Breaking Point

At this point life was great, I saw this super cute boy in my Human Rights class in college. Of course I called my mom to tell her all about this guy I knew nothing about. Next thing you know one night I’m having margaritas with a mutual friend of ours and ending it kissing THE CUTE BOY! The first time I brought him home to meet my family my mom goes, “hi, are you the cute boy in Bailey’s class”…(talk about blushing and being embarrassed!) We left that evening and he told me how awesome my family was, how I’m a spitting image of my mom, and how down to earth we were. I was soo happy. Our relationship continued into our senior year we were so happy and getting ready to graduate and make a big move.

Well one Saturday morning we are waking up and I get a call from my dad crying. Saying he messed up. I had no idea what was going on, he said to meet mom at my aunt and uncle’s house and she will tell me. He just kept repeating he was sorry and he made mistake. As the news broke I found out my dad this guy who I thought I knew embezzled from where he was working. I knew he had a drinking problem and ya, I couldn’t stand most of the time, but at the end of the day he was still my dad so I always gave him the benefit of the doubt. I was so confused to why he lost his job because so many stories were being told.

Living in a small town of course the rumors started. He would never tell us the story of why he was fired. Was it because he didn’t want us to know to protect us in case the feds asked us? was he ashamed? it drove all of us nuts that we heard bits and pieces of it, but never actually knew. Long story short he was fired and being investigated for embezzlement.

Well this is when the drinking got absolutely terrible. My mom was embarrassed, hated going out in public, even though she knew nothing about anything that was going on. She always said people stare at me, they judge me. I told her to tell them to fuck off, but she said “that would be rude” šŸ˜‰ Then when she got home she had to deal with a drunk husband. Obviously she was dealing with way to much. He had nothing to do all day, no place would hire him because he was being investigated for embezzlement. So he coped with his feelings by alcohol. We all tried to help him get into rehabs, therapy, all those things, but you can’t change a person who doesn’t want to change. They can only change themselves and they need to want to change. I believe he didn’t want to change.

This is where it broke me. I wanted to help. I wanted to fix him. He is broken. It destroyed me, my family, my relationship, etc. I was getting depressed, angry, etc that I lost my dad. He was turning into a severe alcoholic and someone I didn’t want to be around. He finally got a job in New York and moved there, I moved to Pennsylvania, and mom stayed home in Vermont. Well I thought I was ready for my move to PA, I told my boyfriend the old Vermont bullshit was behind me, I’m ready to move forward in life. Well I thought wrong. Hearing my mom and how depressed and tired she was from this monster calling and texting her terrible abusive messages, and saying accusations about her, and financial stress, but most of all she wanted to make everyone else around her happy while she was disintegrating. So I was calling her all the time crying with her. We were both trying to change things out of our control. I started taking my frustration out on my boyfriend. I stopped contact with this monster and my mother tried to, but it was more a legal thing than anything to stop contact. Luckily my boyfriend had enough patience to understand and help me, but it was not fair that he had to deal with all of this and have my physical body in PA, but my mind in VT. It was a shitshow to say the least, but slowly its getting back.

As the months went on this guy who was once my dad became a total stranger to my brother and I. Neither of us had talked to him in months. My last conversation with him was telling him if he changes he can be back in my life, but until then he needs to work on himself. Well the change never happened, so I never talked to him again. My mom though, I talked to her every single day if not more than once everyday. She was my person, shit she is still my person. Though this monster was so jealous of that. He was so angry that she had a great relationship with her kids and he did have a relationship at all.

The next thing I knew I was on the phone with my mom laughing & chit chatting, then an hour later I’m getting a nightmare call from my grandmother. My mom was killed. This monster couldn’t fix himself and was so angry with himself and jealous he couldn’t have his children, so I suppose he thought she couldn’t either. I lost my mom. I lost my best friend, hero, rock, role model, jello shot maker, life of the party, but most importantly this baby girl lost her mama bear. He took her, how could he do this? The rage I feel, I can’t even explain. She didn’t deserve this, never in a million years. Why didn’t he die from his gun shot, but she did? It’s not fair. Why? It’s a question I keep finding myself saying. WHY? WHY THE FUCK IS IT OKAY FOR YOU TO TAKE MY MOM. Let me answer that, it’s not okay, never will okay. Now so many people are broken because of YOU, you took the life of the sunshine in our lives.

Each day gets harder and easier at the same time. How? Harder because I don’t have my mom to talk to. Yes, I know I can talk to her, but god dammit I want her to respond. I called her every day on my way home from work and now I can’t. Yes, I can call others, but its not the same. And its harder because life keeps going on. The world does not stop. Fortunately I have had an amazing support system that makes these hard days easier and that is how each day gets a little easier. I’m starting to get use to this “new normal” of mine.

Now you know the “short” version of why and how I’m in this “hole”. How do I keep getting up everyday? How do I keep eating and sleeping at night? How do I talk about this tragedy and without hesitation talk about domestic violence. Well keep reading because that’s going to be in the next few posts.

Iā€™ll be back soon to keep writing my story.
Until then rememberĀ #loveshouldnthurtĀ 
Domestic Violence Fact #2:Ā Domestic violence is the leading cause of injury to women ā€“ more than car accidents, muggings, and rapes combined.
Fun Fact #2:Ā You canā€™t hum while holding your nose closed. (Yes, I totally just tried this!) Always good to end on a positive note & smileĀ šŸ™‚

 

Fly high my angel, fly high ā¤

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The Beginning…

The beginning? Where to start? I guess childhood. Growing up I had what I thought was the “perfect family”. I had two parents who weren’t divorced, an awesome older brother, and my grandparents lived 10 minuets away. We always supported each other, went to every event for each other. From the outside it looked like our life was fantastic and as kid I always thought that because of my mom. She was such a positive person, putting everyone before her and trying to hide that ‘bad stuff’ from my brother and I.
As a kid I was typically always happy, loud, full of energy, trying new things, excited, over around just a happy kid. Then bad things started happening behind close doors. My dad at the time started really drinking. Yea drinking is common, but when glass or two of milk at dinner transformed to drinking a bottle or two or three or even four of Budlight at dinner I knew something was changing. Though I didn’t really listen to that little voice in my head saying, thats not right because everything else was fine. Mom had us go around the table every night say the best part of our day. And most of my friends rarely, if at all had family dinner every night like we did. So I thought well it’s better than what I have seen.
Then over the years the 4 beers at dinner became a whole 30 rack a night. Yes, I said 30. Along with the 30 beers came lies, verbal abuse, mental abuse, sneakiness, heartbreak, sadness, depression, denial, the list of the negative affects it brings goes on. I would always have hope that when the drinking stopped for a day that was going to be the day, the day I would get my dad back, but then I got my hopes up too often that I gave up hope. But when he wasn’t drinking for those couple hours in the morning he was great. Though many times the night before I was being called a dumb cunt or stupid bitch because I did something he didn’t like or didn’t listen to him barking drunk orders. So the next morning was me waking up upset and pissed that he would call his daughter something like that and/or him waking up “not remembering” a thing and wanting to be my best friend. Now imagine my mom, brother, and I dealing with that with nobody over. Now imagine him doing the same thing when we had company. Well we didn’t have to imagine it, it was a reality we had to face when we wanted to have friends over.
I would have to forewarn friends before coming to my house that my dad was an alcoholic, so if he says something bad ignore it and that I was/am not like him. Mom would have to “babysit” him to try to protect my brother and I from being embarrassed. But when our friends would leave our house and they would say after one visit their, “I feel like I am your family now. Your mom is just so awesome. She makes me feel right at home and is hilarious. I see were you get your personality from”. My mom was the ‘community mom’ everyone knew her and everyone loved her. The bond my mom and I had was no like a bond I have ever had before. How was she such a rockstar? She made our friends feel like family while also dealing with hiding this drunk asshole for our friends and us.
Although all this shit was happening behind close doors we still had a pretty great life going on. My brother went off to the military, and I went to college to become a teacher, both our parents had great jobs. We still went on family vacations, laughed together, cried together, supported each other. All those things families do for each other, we were a strong family. Obviously not the perfect family, but its the Northeast Kingdom every other person is an alcoholic so it wasn’t that big of a deal, so we thought…
So thats the beginning…
I’ll be back soon to keep writing my story.
Until then remember #loveshouldnthurtĀ 
Domestic Violence Fact #1: 1 out of 3 women and 1 out of 4 men have been in an abusive relationship.
Life Fact #1: The world’s oldest chewing gum is over 9,000 years old. (Always good to end on a positive note & smile šŸ™‚6708a85c4a5982dfd18eda6f2372943d