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@alyishername
New year.
Whatever.
I can't even describe the thoughts or feelings that continue to plague my mind & body tonight. I'm just over it. I don't know what else to write.
His eyes. They got me from the second they locked with mine.
I have a history with him. He was my neighbor in an apartment complex. Stoner. Skater. Shy. Mike. Shunās new friend. Another person to blame. First time I met him was in his raggedy Mazda (5speed) with drawings all over the interior that kinda matched his hemp converse in a way. He was driving, Shun was up front, & I was confused. I donāt remember wanting to get to know him. He was older. He was a boy. He was not my friend. I was involved with Shun & he made his expectations clear. Mike was different from the others. They were so similar in every way. He was not. If he noticed how different he was from them- he didnāt care. Shun & all his homeboys were thug white boy wannabes who did drugs, chased ass & supposedly money, & built that image with their parents credit cards. None were as hood as they tried to put on. Mike didnāt have a shaved head. Instead, he had blackish blue long shaggy hair. Hat was cocked but not a fitted straight bill hat. He had hoop earrings & didnāt own a pair of Js that I ever saw. Converse, baggy jeans, whatever shirt he picked. Punk rock music poured from every speaker he controlled. His room was a common smoke spot. It was never clean. He had fun & was fucked up more than sober from what I can remember. He just lived with no fear or worry.
A few months later I found out I was pregnant & Shun lost control of his drug use. Meth became a big problem for just about everyone we knew except me. I was pregnant & ātoo youngā so I got to watch as the drug destroyed the people I used to know & Mike wasnāt different in this way. Dope changed them all into strangers. I had no idea what was happening until they were so shot out that they were scary & want to be taken care of. Mike disappeared.
I was unable to help Lynleyās dad see beyond the dope that was killing him & any chance we had of being a family. My mom made a choice I couldnāt - she put my daughter & I on a plane to Illinois to keep us safe. Shun had been very unstable & his actions were proof. He was a stranger⦠& a very scary one too! We disappeared too. Mike & Shun stayed on destructive dope fueled paths. I lost contact with both of them for a while. I remember talking to Mike online one day & for reasons I canāt recall - I sent him pictures of me. Pictures that were revealing, some more than others- I guess our shared opinion of how fucked up things were & the fact that he didnāt associate with Shun anymore made me want to know who he really was. We had hung out alone before & I liked listening to him create beats while we smoked. He didnāt appear interested in me or any other girl but didnāt give a gay vibe either⦠He was just Mike. After I sent him those provocative pictures- I told him the dates of my upcoming trip to Georgia. We made plans to see each other during that week. I showed up at his apartment but he wasnāt home. He called Shunās looking for me but I wasnāt there. I was looking forward to seeing him & I was disappointed. I donāt remember how I found out- but after being blown off & back to my life in Illinois, I heard he was locked up. Mike was no stranger to the county jail. His unique shy neighbor boy persona was my first impression of him⦠Wild, loud, irrational, careless, & self destructive were more accurate a few months later. I was shocked when I learned that he wasnāt doing a week this time. 12 years for manufacturing methamphetamines? Mike? It didnāt make sense that he had changed that much⦠I didnāt know him well enough to feel as I did. I was actually sad. MisterPoupon wouldnāt be back online anytime soon. I didnāt keep up with him or anyone else from that part of my past. I had a different life than the one I left in GA. I never thought thereād be a reason to show my face in the city of Columbus. It was a black hole. Every update was bad. I was one of few that escaped just in time & nothing could make me consider going back. I had a new baby. I was in college. Had worked hard to buy my own SUV, live in a nice home, became attached to a good strong family that loved me & Lynley, had a few best friends my own age, & joined the Army⦠Mike reappeared on Facebook out of nowhere. He randomly popped up with a question or two but disappeared as always. I didnāt ever plan on seeing Mike or really plan on the possibility of our paths crossing in the future. I did think about him from time to time & his name came up in a few conversations. I prayed for him & a few others for a long time. My heart hurt for him & I never understood why. He teased my brother. He held my daughter. He took me to & from school or let me hide in his room if I decided to skip. He made my brother take a shower. He jumped on my trampoline. He was never disrespectful to my mom. I could not imagine how much he would change & definitely never thought Iād find out. I was living in Columbus. So much had changed since I moved back. I was married, strung out on heroin, & looked awful. Mike appeared on my front porch with his best friend who was no stranger to me, but a regular customer who had the same addiction as me. They were both plastered & I could hear their drunk obnoxious voices calling my name⦠& I hadnāt even gotten out of bed yet. I was home alone with my daughter & stepdaughter. Iām not sure why I went to the door.ā but as mad as I wanted to be- Mikeās drunk ass made it impossible. He was so good at distracting me from the reality that it was 3 am on a school night & I had two drunk uninvited fools show up without calling & to buy something that I didnāt have. He knew I was aggravated but did his weird dances to make me smile & he was so eager to share how good he was doing & he looked like it. He told me about his new job, showed me his prison tattoos, & even told me about his sex life with some stripper somewhere in Alabama or Louisiana. He gave me his number & we agreed to take a trip to ATL the following morning. I was supposed to make a few hundred dollars off him but he never answered my calls the next day. That was in March 2012. December 2012. He reappeared via text message. Again, plans were made to hang out. I vaguely remember our conversations. I was in the beginning of a 4 day relapse & about 20 Xanax deep- he later told me I was telling him how awesome sobriety was as I slurred. The night finally came that we succeeded in actually hanging out. I was at Shunās & they had just rekindled their friendship a few weeks prior. I was excited. Shun made a few comments about my reaction to the news that Mike was on his way with some beer. A few other friends were already there & I was freaking out because I didnāt know what to wear. Shun was on to me & just to prove that I didnāt care about getting dolled up for Mike- I settled on an old green tshirt, gray cheerleading shorts, & an old pair of Nikes from my basic training days. I did touch up my hair & make up⦠a few times. He pulled in, windows down & rock music blaring. I smiled so big as I watched him park. Him & Jake hopped out. I rechecked my hair & make up. Shun made me promise to not hook up with Mike or Jake. I had no intentions of being sexually involved with either of them. Plus- I was told that Mike was only coming over to see a different girl, Ashley. I was determined to distract him. I donāt know why I didnāt want them to hook up. I watched him walk from his car, up the stairs, & greeted him with a hug outside on the porch. Thatās when I saw him in a way I had never seen him. His eyes. I couldnāt stop myself from checking him out & commenting on his body. He was so not the skinny shaggy Mike I met 7 years prior. He looked so much differentā¦in a good way. His hair was now his natural color & looked freshly cut. Not inmate/prison short, but not shaggy at all. Clean. No earrings. His outfit matched, looked brand new, & was American Eagle. Not a brand I expected to ever see on his clothes. Nike shocks replaced the Converse. He was super swoll & every vein in his body was visible. He smelled good. That was definitely something new. He had new tattoos. His braces were gone. If I hadnāt been drooling over his most recent half naked profile picture on Facebpok a few hours before he arrived- I probably wouldnāt have guessed he would look totally different than the image of him I had for years. Those eyes were one thing that were the same. The effect that they had on me when our eyes met was all it took. His smile was exactly as I remembered & his voice, laugh, & attitude were unchanged. His confidence, cockiness, & checking account were on full display. He had grown up. I was surprised & confused. I couldnāt help myself from wanting to get his attention. Mike was not easy to read. That bothered me. I donāt know why I wanted him⦠I wasnāt even sure he was available. I was married & had no intention of dating him. I did wonder if he would be skilled in other areasā¦. Like his bedroom. I wasnāt sure if he saw me in that way. I was determined to make him see me as just Aly. Not lil sister or homeboys baby mama or lil girl. We were both trying to figure each other out. It didnāt take long. The next morning, Mike picked me up & was late as I expected he would be. I made a bet with him during our late night Facebook flirt session. He lost & as a result, owed me lunch. I purposely wore my new Nike dri-fit pants that are skin fitting & drew Mikeās attention where I had hoped. My butt. It had always been nice, but 2 kids & 8 years later, itās size & shape were definitely noticed by him & I knew it. Ashley never did make it that day. Mike lied & told me he called her but she didnāt answer. I asked her later that day why she didnāt show up & she informed me that Mike never called. I was trying to hide the smirk on my face. I wanted to have him to myself. I didnāt see her as a threat, but I wasnāt sure of their history & I didnāt need any drama. Mike was single & I liked him that way. No way did I need her or another girl to distract him & change that. We worked out for a while & I could feel his eyes on me for most of that session. Every time I turned around- he was at a station that gave him a perfect view of whatever I was working out on. The black pants were our topic of conversation as we left the gym. He was seeing how much I had changed too. I couldnāt tell for sure if he was going to act like my brother or play the game I hoped would put us in a situation I promised wouldnāt happen. I carefully tried to toss hints here & there during our car ride but nothing I said got me any closer to what I wanted. Maybe laundry could help. He had mentioned doing his laundry & I happened to have the same plans. Instead of going to a laundromat, I went to Mikeās apartment. It was definitely cleaner & emptier than his old smoked out bedroom. His bachelor pad was a lot nicer than I expected & he didnāt have much of anything yet. Not even a couch. Just peanut butter, a few frozen things, a blender, protein, vitamins, & his mom had to be the source of all the cute Christmas decorations placed throughout his home. He started his laundry before I was able to finish looking around. He gave me a tour which consisted of a Georgia Football themed bathroom complete with Rudolph hand towels, his walk in closet lined with flannel AE shirts of all colors & shelves stocked with fresh Polos, & another pair of shocks, Georgia boots, & Sperryās. I had no idea who Mike turned out to be but the more I saw & the more time we spent alone made me want to learn more. His bedroom was last to be shown & he was quick to turn on the huge flat screen, PS3, & tossed the controller to me. Netflix was on the screen & I didnāt hesitate to lay on his made up bed while I went through each movie . We decided on Deafh Race⦠Action type flick. He also sat on the bed but there was an awkward distance between us. He got us each a beer & I had an idea that would for sure bring us closer physically but also help me figure out where his head was. I had already started a game that he quickly caught on to & was good at playing along with me⦠He had accepted a ājobā without asking for details but had to get past the āinterviewā first. I refused to tell him what either really consisted of & his imagination was hard at work. I started a play fight with him while he was on a work related call- his boss I think. The object was a Georgia koozie that I blatantly disrespected by only using it if turned inside out- making it a simple black koozie. Mike & I wrestled over that thing until it landed on the floor & his lips were locked with mine. I was wrapped up in his strong arms & his āinterviewā was way more intense than I imagined. Our first kiss was flawless & the most perfect kiss in every way. He didnāt slobber, his tongue wasnāt jammed down my throat, he controlled every breath, & my doubt was instantly replaced with a desire to see what else I was underestimating about him. He was not the inexperienced, teachable kind of guy I thought. He had his own ideas of how he was going to seduce me that totally killed every idea I walked in with. He got his way & I couldnāt resist. I didnāt want to be easy⦠but he had me caught up in his kisses & his eyes. The way he stripped my clothes off my body without any warning was an absolute first in my experience & so not something I was going to allow on our first encounter⦠He didnāt stop when I told him to. My request was probably ignored due to the fact it was in between catching my breath & not at all convincing while my hands were busy getting to know every inch of his bare back, chest, & chiseled abs. His clothes were soon on the floor next to mine. He made me nervous & excited all at the same time. His warnings advised that I would fall in love with him & a Mike original: his dick is small but cute. I laughed & couldnāt wait to see if he was serious⦠He lied again. We fit together like puzzle pieces. Every single motion was perfectly synchronized & I felt like he knew every weakness & every secret spot that I had & more. Our intimate connection was unlike anything I had ever experienced before that day. It wasnāt a love-like feeling, but a feeling that has no name or can be described or compared to any other feeling I have ever experienced before. I remember how surprised I was when he kissed me that day. I was expecting & hoping that I could tease him, get him to want me, & only give up a kiss to leave him wondering⦠Never did I imagine that he would be the first guy that I saw as more than a challenge or as just a part of another plan. Before I went to Mikeās house to do laundry that day, I had made up my mind that I was not going to have sex with him no matter how bad I wanted to because I didnāt want him to think I was easy. Plus, we had just started hanging out & as bad as I wanted him- I wanted him to work for it. I had never thought that he could make me give in to him the way he did. That first kiss & the feeling that came with it was not something I planned for or had any control over. I couldnāt stop⦠I didnāt want to. I was going to rehab & he was going back offshore in a few days. I wasnāt sure when Iād see him again or if heād even want to see me again. We had already made it clear that having fun was our only intention. No strings attached. Our āfunā was a secret & not an easy one to keep. In an attempt to spend more time together without being questioned, we said we were leaving town early. Mike was taking me to rehab on his way to work & everybody knew that. Our plan worked. Those few days went by so fast. Before I knew what was happening, I was kissing him & was wondering if it was our last kiss. We were standing in the lobby of an inpatient rehab center & struggling to part ways. I promised to call him after my intake was complete & watched him as he left. The counselor later referred to him as my husband. I corrected her & she looked extremely puzzled. I explained quickly, he was my special friend- she understood. Mike was special & he was my friend⦠The next 17 days proved how special he was. We talked almost every night until my time was up, I got caught, or the minutes ran out. He warned me before that 10 minutes was his average limit⦠My phone card had 1200 minutes when our first conversation began. Mike refilled my card multiple times without hesitation & never made excuses to get off the phone. He didnāt usually take his phone into the field either but that changed when I found a way to call āmy sponsorā during the day. We never ran out of stuff to talk about & there were no such things as awkward silences. He actually listened, paid attention, & could keep up. I looked forward to hearing his voice every night & thought about him all day long. I made him a bracelet with a hidden meaning. I wasnāt sure if the meaning would remain hidden or if some day, Iād tell him. Christmas & my 24th birthday fell during that time. I was in tears & smiling at the same time when I read the note from Mike that came with a dozen peach roses & a teddy bear (later named Mister Poupon). He amazed me. He was in the middle of the ocean & still found a way/the time to make me feel special. Nobody else did. Only Mike. I was able to manipulate my discharge date & referral to make it easier for Mike to pick me up. I jumped on him the second our eyes locked. I had no job, no money, no place to stay, no family⦠Just a plan to go home with him until I got into a residential rehab. At least, thatās what we told my counselor our plan was. I wasnāt sure if he was seriously going to follow through. I didnāt really care. I was just happy to be sitting in his 4runner with him. He stopped at a gas station & popped the trunk to get something. We were barely on the road 10 minutes. He remembered a comment I made about his Shox & for my birthday, had bought me my own pair. They were perfect. Size, sparkles, & color⦠I was so speechless. This boy absolutely amazed me more & more every single day. He was not anything like I expected⦠in any way. It was the first time I had that instant need to be around somebody & I never got tired of him. He was everything I didn't know I wanted, didn't know was possible, & everything I couldn't live without. Our days together went by so fast & we fell in love before we could figure out if we were going to stay a secret or pursue a relationship. Those 2 weeks of countless conversations over the phone were the foundation of our relationship. It made it easier to tell him things that I probably wouldn't have had we been face to face... Maybe it was also easy because I instant trusted that he wouldn't judge me & also the fact that I had been in jail & rehab for the previous 4 months made me look at myself deeper than I knew was possible. I was at a time in my life where I was learning about myself & obsessed with figuring out "why" I am who I am... He was the first person to hear my true life stories, to listen to me cry over everything I was letting go of, & the first person I shared my darkest secrets with. I don't know why he was different to me... I don't know why I couldn't hide the things I've always hidden or why I actually wanted to be honest & tell him about myself as I was learning about myself... No other person on this planet knows me as well as Mike does. I have always been able to be completely myself with him & despite my lifelong efforts to be who I thought the world wanted me to be- I couldn't continue to be that way. Not with him. He was not like any other man I had been with before or even just been friends with. He wasn't just a challenge, a person to use for whatever reason, a faceless one night fling, another accomplishment, or a person I was tied to... He was the first man I couldn't figure out what game to play with or if he'd even want to play with me. He wasn't easy to figure out. I had never had a problem dissecting people, especially men. Mike's eyes were the most mysterious, beautiful, tempting, full of emotion, serious, gorgeous, deep, & entrancing eyes I had ever looked into... He was the only person to ever look straight into my eyes without direction to do so. Most people cannot maintain eye contact... He was a pro. He made my head spin & my heart race when he looked at me.
I always wondered what they meant when they spoke of their demons. I felt bad for those who saw only evil where I could see only hope & faith. They were a few years older & they succeeded in protecting me for a long time. I got older. They did too. The fear I had of turning into one of them faded. Opportunity & curiosity came together 10 years later. I released my own demons that day. Every time I see this quote I am reminded of how many people instantly relate- & I wonder what level I'm on & how many more levels exist. I wish my hell was imaginary & the devils too. Every day I feel the presence of evil & on some days I can actually see the devils hard at work in the world around me. I don't know if its possible to see things as I used to. I don't know if I will trust or have faith in myself, other people, or anything at all. Doubt prevents trust. Proof denies faith a fair chance. Fear destroys hope. I cannot believe that my perception has developed so quickly & is so difficult to make sense of. My life has never been easy. It's been a fight from my first breath & the perception I created allowed me to hope without fear. I failed to accept the possibility that I was capable of seeing things differently as I grew up & experienced much more than my child self imagined. Ugh.., I am soo dizzy. Back to my level..
Writing wrongs.
Writing has been my way of saying things that I donāt want to necessarily share out loud with anybody. Writing is my way of releasing what I might otherwise bury. I can write about whatever topic is given to me & I can do it well but given the choice to put my own shit on paper- itās rare that I ever get the nerve to write what I really want to. Thatās why I created this blog. To tell nobody & everybody the truths that I know exist but have never been told in my words. It has been a long time since I stopped to notice the real reasons I am how I am & for the first time as far back as I can remember, I am not letting the fear of opinion or judgement get in front of what I need to do for me. I know that running from anything will only put me closer to the next thing I will run from. Itās a bad habit that I can recognize has only done more harm to me than good. Itās not an option to run away from myself or the situation I probably created but no longer want to deal with. My life has been an extravagant tale of adventure & struggle that will continue to develop unless I do something to prevent it. I canāt change anything but right now & I canāt allow myself to become overwhelmed with my past or my future when I donāt know how to even handle the present most days.
Iām keeping my head up but I canāt always keep a smile going through the times Iām so fucking sick of. Iām not being negative but damn. I just canāt figure out where to start cleaning up. So far, writing hasnāt done shit & talking to the one person I trust hasnāt made me want to do any cleaning at all. Just want to find a way to make it all go away & life be good. I have only been able to see how much I need to do & still am looking at it all to try to see where the answer is. Nothing makes sense to me anymore. All I know is that the things I feel a need to write are the things I will regret keeping as only a thought or feeling. Thereās so much that cannot be told as it happened or in words that could accurately describe the feelings I donāt know names for. I can only try to write it so I can get past it & write more. Many people have made comments suggesting I write a book of my life for their own reasons & thought of what all would be sharedā¦. I donāt know that any one of them ever thought it would happen. If they did, I know that each & every person would read it & find that they wish they hadnāt encouraged such a painful task. I have not always had the perception I do today & havenāt ever wanted to see things differently. I am tired of being scared. I am not running or hiding this time. I am so not pretending either- just to satisfy somebody else. I want to write down the secrets, the lies, the truth, & the real life situations that made me into the person I am.
Random Reason.
Thoughts of my forever busy, wondering mind... Tuesday afternoon. Garage. Woods & nature in sight. Everything happens for a reason. Even at times where it is difficult to find reason or understanding to help answer our most common question- āwhy?ā. Until the answer is clear, I can usually gain a sense of security & faith because of this belief. I have always believed in this saying & have almost always been able to trust that things will work out the way they are supposed to. I donāt believe that there is a concrete plan created for each person. I believe we choose our own destiny & make our own choices without knowing where exactly each choice is taking us. My life has been a very interesting sequence of events that are nothing close to what I thought might happen when I was still a child. My hopes, dreams, goals, attitude, plans, & decisions were the recipe for the life I knew I wanted & thought I would have. I thought all I had to do was become a grown up & everything else would follow.
As far back as I can remember, I wanted to be a grown up. Immediately. They had everything I wanted to have. Especially power, freedom, & control. They didnāt have to ask for permission- they made their own decisions. I got in trouble if I didnāt ask! They were all supposed to be instantly respected & listened to by all children. If I stuck my tongue out at a teacher & walked away without completing a task they assigned me, I got in trouble. I couldnāt even choose how much trouble I got into, punishments were a grown up decision too! I remember having to fight with my mom about my outfit on picture day in 1st day. I refused to wear a dress. She knew I hated them. It was an ongoing argument- but that day, she gave in. I wore what I picked out. I still remember (over 20 years later) what I wore that day: a purple sweat suit, with white polka dots, & a teddy bear on the top. That was one of my first tastes of freedom⦠I wanted more. I wanted to pick out all my clothes, every day. I wanted to cut off my super long, beautiful blonde hair. That took a long time for my mom to give in, but eventually I got my way. I remember wanting to have my way ever since. My way wasnāt always the best way, the right way, the most efficient way, or even the way I truly wanted. I didnāt realize it then- but I wanted a completely different life than I was given, I wanted to be a different person, I wanted to find & use every possible escape from my life- no matter how temporary, & I wanted everything now. Yesterday was better. I thought my life would be easier & I would be happier if I was in control.
(Note: Control should really come with a warning label & an instruction manual.)
I learned quickly that despite my strong desire to be in control of my life, I cannot control everything. I can try to change the life I was given into the life I always imagined, but when change is not possible, I must learn to accept. If I made a list of everything in my life that has happened & what I believed the reason behind it was at that exact point in time & compare it to what I believe the reason was today- I wonder if I'd come up with the same reasons. In a nutshell.,. Yesterday (& every day prior) was required in order for Today to exist. Tomorrow is still waiting to happen & can only be seen with imagination.
Reality is not real. Foreal.
12:13 am. Still in the woods of HC. Mind still going 100 mph. Smoking Newports. Sober as a rock. Time is moving forward while I am not moving anywhere. Possibly in circles. Maybe. Don't feel like talking, guess I should write. They say its healthy for me. Not that it matters. I don't follow directions or suggestions well. Not by choice. It's a character defect. I have many that I am aware of & many more I haven't taken the time to discover or assign a name to. I am still figuring myself out. Here's what has been on my mind lately. Warning: I may not be able to make much sense & will probably contradict myself & have difficulty reasoning. Reality has been the focus of the majority of my thoughts lately. It began with a girl at my work saying her life sucked & her list of reasons why. I listened to her, because I can't help but listen to everybody, & when she looked at me for I'm assuming some sort of confirmation that her life truly does suck- all I could spit out was that her PERCEPTION of her life sucked. She looked almost pleased to find out that it only appeared to suck. She agreed with my statement & didn't mention it again. I stood behind the bar for a minute & thought about what I just realized. I turned to one of my regular guests & he saw the wonder in my eyes of a new question- he knows that look & is almost always ready for whatever I throw at him. This question was different. I was serious. I'm never really serious. Is reality real? I said it aloud & only got a confused facial expression as a response. I repeated myself. Several times. He finally put his hand up, a signal to stop repeating myself. He smiled & said "No. Reality is not real." I love when I discover & share my thoughts with others who can open their minds to thoughts that sound crazy, provocative, defiant, or just sound like straight up bullshit. Many people who know me or just happen to share a *moment in time* with me, know that I am a very curious, must-know, intelligent, attentive, bold, & creative woman with no real concept of what is considered appropriate or acceptable based on anything other than my own opinion & what I believe in. I don't know why "everybody" cares what "everybody" thinks... I don't even know who "everybody" is. I'm just Aly. & back to the real issue here... The word REALITY is a useless word in my vocabulary today. I can't use a word that I can't define or understand the definition of. Reality is defined as "the state of things as they actually exist, rather than as they may appear or might be imagined." When I read the definition listed above, I instantly wonder how we can determine what actually exists without seeing it as it appears or if not available to determine visually, we may imagine what it looks like & determine the existence based on whatever else necessary. Reality is later defined as "everything that has existed, is existing, & will exist." Much more broad of a definition but still not much help in determining if reality itself exists. I always thought reality was right now & would be a constant state, always changing but yet always the same. Reality was everything I could see, touch, taste, feel, & everything else that I knew was real. My reality was always changing, always getting harder to accept, becoming more difficult to hide from others & myself, & I wanted to change it. What I saw as my personal reality was never good enough for me. From the time I was a small child & could feel jealousy burning inside my chest when I saw the reality other kids had that I could only imagine or dream of... As I got older, the jealousy faded & my reality was whatever I wanted it to be. I learned to develop perceptions of my reality that could be easily distorted, manipulated, & adapted to the standards & expectations that I believed were necessary for a reality that I could accept & be happy in. I began to develop little alternate worlds long before I could identify my reason for doing so. School, cheerleading, school groups, anything & everything I could to stay out of the house. As I grew up, I just moved away & started over to escape &/or change my reality. For years, I ran from reality. I hid from reality. I ignored the realities that were staring me in the face, begging for attention & growing wildly out of control. Nothing made my realities go away because only my perception can change. Reality is my perception of what is real based on personal experience, knowledge ,trust, truth, & can be viewed differently on an individual level. Reality is the most confusing concept that I have tried to break down. Anything to do with the way I think, view, imagine, create, or combinations of thought processes are enough to keep me busy & ultimately drive me crazy. Reality is not a choice. It is however what we make it. My perception is my reality. I am 24 years old. I have a beautiful daughter & an awesome son. I just moved out to the country. This year has been a lot better than last. Above I stated a brief perception of my reality. Others may view it like this: I'm a teenage mom who dropped out of school to raise 2 kids. My boyfriend & I had an unexpected break up. My heart hurts but at least I can live with Lynley & her dad. Last year was full of drug & criminal activity & rehab @ jail & so much more. This year, not as many disappointments but some. The reality was not altered but the perception was very different. Nobody can live your life for you. Nobody can feel the emotions that you feel or understand why you feel that way. Nobody can think & get inside your head to produce the ideas you can. Nobody can ever possibly experience your life & agree with your perception of your everyday realities. I'm the only one who can tell my story.
How I see it...
Hiding in the country. Laying down. 10:24 pm. Monday night.
I have always wondered if other people saw the world the same way I do. If the colors I see & learn a name for based on my own visuals are the same as those another individual sees. We would both not know any other visual possibility & therefore never be able to confirm that we see everything in the same exact color, brightness, dullness, or even have different colors in our individual rainbows that do not exist in the other. We would also not be able to deny this possibility. I am unaware of any scientific study that either can prove or disprove my question & have had more people instantly shut out the possibility rather than think about it. The few that do take the time to really understand the complexity of my question usually can only smile & say that they never really thought about it. Just to clarify: this is not the same as two individuals being taught different verbal identities for colors. Such as, Peter sees the visual of the color we all connect with the verbal identity āpurpleā but his mother teaches him to verbally identify this color using the word āorangeā. Peter sees what he knows to be identified as orange but everyone else, his mother included sees orange. This association was taught & not at all the same as my wonder which is extremely difficult to explain. If you donāt understand what I mean by now, you may never understand. Iām frustrated with myself for ever coming up with this mystery in my mind. Unless I am ever given the opportunity to see the world through somebody elseās visual perception only, I will never get an answer I suppose. I just wonder if we all really do visually see the same colors or if we verbally identify the colors we connect with our own individual visual which would all be associated to its own identity which in this case would be a color. We learn what āredā is based on what we see. But do we all really see it in the same way? If youāre not lost, Iām surprised. :)
I cannot help but revisit this mystery that was created in my own mind with almost every new encounter I have with somebody I believe is relatively smart. Most people I try to talk to really have a hard time understanding what I'm trying to explain. It's difficult to imagine everything I know to simply be just a learned identity, association, memory, skill, process, habit, or whatever you want to call it. On the day I was born, my mind was blank. I cannot imagine what that was like. No knowledge. No fear. No expectations. No concept of the future or what we will one day grow to be. I had no idea why I was alive or really even had the ability to question my existence. I knew nothing more than what I knew that day & had no real desire to know anything more. I saw the world as I was taught to see it for a very long time. My perception of my life was guided by my parents, teachers, friends, media, experiences, & memories. I never imagined my life to be anything but beautiful & happy. That's all I was able to see when I looked around. I don't know what everyone else saw, but I had no idea any other view was possible. My mom always said, "You know what you know & you don't know what you don't know." I never really understood her until today. I couldn't have explained it any better myself.
"My life is full of so many unbelievable true stories that I couldn't make up a better lie if I wanted to!"
-Me on My Life. September 16, 2013. Harris County, GA
Not a fan.
1:27 am August 31, 2013 I am sitting on the bathroom floor. Unable to sleep for a few reasons. Just wanted to make a note of the fact that unpredictable, uncontrollable, mandatory change that requires immediate attention & thought followed by quick planning resulting in even quicker action sucks. Bad. I am definitely not a fucking fan of such situations. As always, I will figure it out. I will be okay. As much as it may sometimes present it self as an ugly, difficult, painful experience... Life has no mistakes. Everything happens for a reason. I don't understand that reason right now... But one day, I will. Until then... I'm going to cuddle up with my beautiful daughter. The only thing that makes perfect sense when nothing else does. Worrying is a lack of faith. I have faith.
4:50 am. August 31, 2013. Layed up in the bedā¦
Almost every night for as long as I can remember, right before my brain cuts off, it gets overwhelmed with thoughts. Thoughts of the past, thoughts of the day that just ended, thoughts of the day that will begin when I wake up, thoughts of the future, thoughts that I can never seem to control, some that I canāt make sense of, & they all seem to go a million directions, a million miles an hourā¦
I always wondered if there was a reason I couldnāt make them stop⦠If other people had the same problemā¦
As Iāve gotten older, I realize that it is not really a problem⦠Other people do the same thing⦠But it still bothers the hell out of me⦠Unwanted thoughts overflowing in my head when all I really want is to end my day & fall asleep. Seriously aggravating.
I easily overwhelm myself with my own thoughts quite often. Sleep has become my only true escape from myself & the world around me. I can admit that I do get mad when I want to sleep & canāt.
I guess this is just another method of mine to get away from reality. Looking back, I have tried many different ways to make āitā go away. I used to cover my eyes or ears to what I didnāt want to see or hear. I ran across the street to my best friends house to get away from the chaos in my own home & enjoy the peace in hers. I made myself go to sleep to end a bad day.. Even if it was 5Ā oāclock & bedtime was hours away. I spent hours building Barbie houses & creating an alternate world that I could pretend to be a part of. I took up every offer, opportunity, & chance to leave my house even if my family had something else planned. I never realized how bad I wanted to get away. It was so natural. I secretly wished & prayed for a new life all the time. I looked at other people & envied the lives they lived. I never understood why things were so hard for me & so easy for everybody else. I still donāt.
Itās not like my life was even all that bad. I donāt remember a lot from the first 6 years⦠Bouncing from home to home with my mom, her abusive relationships, all the different schools, barely seeing my brothers⦠Itās all a blur with a few vivid memories.
It wasnāt until she married the man I call my father in 1995 that my memories are really clear.
I remember moving to Georgia⦠I was so scared to leave my Nana, Grandma, brothers, friends.. Everything I knew. Everything that was familiar. I never thought my life could change so drastically. But then again, I was only 6. I didnāt really know how to feel. It had always been my mom & me.. I went where she went. This time was different. She had just married a man she met a few months prior, we had a ānew familyā, & it was HIM that we were following. My mom was always good at painting a pretty picture for me⦠Georgia was no different.
I always wonder how different my life would be, how different I would be had we never left.
Georgia was an extreme change. New house. New car. People talked funny. Different manners. Daveās furniture mixed with ours. My mom didnāt have a job anymore. No family close by. Nothing was the same. Everything was so different.
I threw up the first night we slept in our new house.
It seemed like I just woke up one day with a new life that I didnāt know existed.
My mom tried to keep our old life & new life connected. Road trips, phone calls, pictures⦠But it all faded through the years. Trips became few & far between⦠The boys only came during summer, sometimes⦠I became used to my new family. Just my mom, my dad, & me. I missed the way things used to be. I think thatās when I realized how powerful change was.
Nothing ever stayed the same for long in my life. I didnāt grow up in one house, in one city or state, with the same people, or go to the same school for more than a few years. I didnāt have a family pet that lasted more than a few months to a year. The bills werenāt always paid. The phone & cable were off just as much as they were on.
Things were always tough for us. That was one thing that never changed.
The older I got, the harder it was for my mom to keep reality hidden from me. Her & my dad both were always good at making the best of things, convincing me (& themselves) that we were okay.
I donāt mean to make my childhood sound like it was bad. I was far from miserable. Always smiling actually. I played ball & I was good. My dad coached one year. I had friends. My parents seemed in love & happy most of the time. We played board games, made sāmores in the fire place, went camping once, I did competitive cheerleading & if I wouldāve stayed with it, probably wouldāve gotten a scholarship into any college I wanted, my younger brother eventually came to live with us full time, my grades were always above average- straight As, & I had an amazingly close, awesome relationship with my mom.
Up until recently, I have usually portrayed my past in a way that does not provoke a lot of questions, pity, or cause others to judge me or anybody else in my family. I never mentioned the parts that I didnāt like. I guess I thought I could tell my story any way I wanted & whatever story that was would be real. At least to the person I was telling it to. I was more than okay with making people believe that my life was just as normal & good as theirs.
That method failed. More than once.
I moved to Illinois in 8th grade when my dad retired from the Army. He got a $40,000 severance check & for the first time for as long as I could remember, we werenāt poor. My dad took us to 6 flags over GA, to the outlet malls, bought bedroom suites for everybody⦠Basically bought us everything that we always wanted. My parents also decided to move to Illinois where my dad was from.
I had to start over. Again. Different everything.
After fighting with my parents & losing⦠I realized that what I wanted didnāt matter. My friends didnāt matter. I was moving to a brand new state, with brand new people, a brand new house⦠All the feelings from when I was 6 years old came rushing back. Insecurity. No support system. Fear of the unknown.
That was the summer before 8th grade. The summer I started rebelling. Making my own choices with no regard to anybody elseās feelings but my own. The summer I learned how to lie, manipulate, sneak out, steal from my parents, shoplift from stores, & was determined to do it all without getting caught. I smoked pot & drank alcohol for the first time that same summer. That was the summer my perspective on life changed forever.
"You never truly know how strong you are, until being strong is the only choice you've got."
Unknown
Destruction or development?
Thoughts come & go... Currently on my mind: There have been a few people (well, men) in the past few years of my life that I have warned to not get too close to me (fall in love with me, really) simply because I had come to the obvious conclusion that I destroy intimate relationships... I believe I quoted it something like- everything I touch, I destroy. People tend to find this statement intriguing I suppose & laugh it off. I really believe what I've said to be true & don't really know how to feel or act when my warnings are not taken seriously. I guess I'm extremely selfish for allowing relationships to develop... Especially if I believe they're bound to the end result of destruction. Why? I know I'm not some sick, sadistic bitch that gets pleasure out of other people's pain. I definitely do not enjoying causing any kind of pain to others.. Whether it be emotional, physical, mental, or even spiritual. I actually feel like its my moral obligation to help others escape whatever pain or hardship they are currently experiencing. Smiles. That's one thing I try to give every person I cross paths with. It has been pointed out to me (for years) by several people, all whom which are very close to me, that I have a co-dependency problem. A big one. Mostly, it has been supported by the fact that I have had a "boyfriend" since I had my first "boyfriend". If one broke, I got a new one. I hate to put it like that, but it's one of my many ugly truths. Flashback: Growing up, my mother always had a "boyfriend" too... I never really noticed it or put much thought into it. That's just the way things were. Plus, I was really little. But looking back, she was constantly involved with one man or another, searching for love & acceptance & some sort of stability I guess. There were a few long term, a few marriages... Whatever. One thing never changed in my eyes- my mom was always left alone, sad, hurt, & most of the time she was left in a hole that she had to climb out of. I could be completely wrong... But as a child, that's what I saw. My conclusion was that I would never depend on a man for anything. I would not be my mother. I didn't even want kids. I didn't want to get married. That kind of love didn't really exist... Only in movies & storybooks. As a small child, I planned to live the remainder of my life as a single woman. No children. No husband. No problems. No pain. Present day: I don't know if my childhood or my life experience with men has caused me to be the way I am or if I'm just "wired" this way. If someone hurts me, I hurt them back. If I feel like I'm losing somebody, I'll leave first. If there's a fight, I have to win. If they expose me for one thing, I expose them for many. There's so much more. Later. None of it is right... But it's the truth. I have never needed a man, but I have never gone more than a few months without one. I have always been the one to walk away or run away. Whichever I felt necessary. I've always had a valid reason to end a relationship: Infidelity and/or abuse. Those were my 2 surface reasons. My emotions on the inside were the real reasons. I wanted to start over. I tried starting the relationship over.. You know, fresh start type thing. But it never worked. It was too far destroyed to develop.
Naked. One of my many practices on becoming comfortable with who I am. Inside & out!
How did I get here?!
Age: Birth - Baby Location: Northern Virginia I am going to try to go back a little bit further so it can be better understood where I come from, what my early years were like through my eyes, & descriptions of some people who need to be explained...possibly. The Facts, Fictions, & Fairy Tales... My birth certificate & my mother both agree that my name at birth was Alyssa Nicole Gardner. My mother admitted that my name was inspired by a young actress who starred in Who's the Boss?... I believe a TV show from the mid 80s considering I was born in 1988. Alyssa Milano. She did grow up to be quite beautiful in my opinion & somewhat famous too I believe. I know her from the more recent show, Charmed. It fits I guess. I was my mother's second child & first & only girl. I was due on December 25th, 1988. I was 3 days late & did not take my first breath until 12:46 pm on December 28. My delivery was extremely complicated & almost tragic. The doctors quickly identified that I was in breech position (head in the ribs, feet first instead of head first, feet in the ribs) & would need to be physically turned around before my mom could begin labor safely. The doctor attempted to turn me by placing his hands on the outside of my mom's tummy & turning me until I was in proper position. This was standard procedure & probably would have been successful if my umbilical cord was not extremely short, measuring at 4 inches. My super short umbilical cord snapped during the attempt to move me & immediately caused major issues. The monitors flatlined moments later... My lungs began to fill up with amniotic fluid- without my connection to my mom via umbilical cord, I started to breathe through my nose & mouth. It was an absolute nightmare for my mom. She was screaming & crying uncontrollably. She was cursing & accusing the entire medical staff of killing her baby... Everybody thought I was dead & unsure of how much damage had been done & didn't have a clue on how successfully it could be reversed, if at all. They wondered if I did make it... Would my brain suffer irreversible damage? Even with all of the chaos, fear, doubt, & lack of preparation- the medical team rushed my mom down the hall into surgery, administered whatever meds, & performed an anchor cut, emergency c section & got me out. My mom says I was purple, black, & blue. Dead. Not one breath or cry. She was absolutely hysterical. She prayed. Within minutes, I took my first breath of air, cried my first cry, & my skin changed from tye dye to normal. I was a miracle baby. My initials are the first 3 letters of ANGel & my mom has called me her angel ever since. I did not suffer any permanent damage & still find the story hard to believe.. Only because I was the baby who was considered dead before alive. It's always given me a funny feeling when I think about it. Oh yeah- did I mention there was a blizzard going on outside on that very day... the blizzard supposedly stopped just hours before we were released to go home days later. Complete chaos. My mom should've known then! I was born into a small family. Duane Allen is my mom's oldest son. She married his dad, Paul, their senior year of high school & Duane was born right before she graduated on May 9, 1984. She was 17. Paul's parents bought them a house & she moved out to start her family. A few years later, I am unsure what year exactly, their marriage began to fall apart unexpectedly... I know the story but it's not mine to tell. Use your imagination here if you want. They separated with no intention of reuniting. My mom & Paul agreed to see other people even though the divorce wasn't final. Custody of Duane was still being decided by the courts. During the time of the separation/custody battle... My mom became pregnant. Yep. That's where I came in...but first I should explain a few things. All prior to my conception. She had been dating a sales consultant for CellularOne named Jeff who was also part of a rock band. It was the 80s. If I remember right, it wasn't anything too serious. They only saw each other on the weekends because of work schedules, Duane, court, & his band stuff. Feelings got stronger & Jeff asked my mom to move across the state of VA with him. I think the band was located in Roanoke or was relocating there?! Something like that. She declined his offer. She was still in the middle of her divorce from Paul & refused to give up on the fight for custody. He left. She stayed. It was over. Then there was Scott. My mom has described her relationship to Scott in a few different ways over the years so I can't say which one is the closest to the truth. I do know that he was a "bad boy" & had been in a ridiculous amount of legal trouble for a 22 year old. I believe I was told he had been incarcerated for various crimes& time frames 19 times at this point. I really don't know how my mom met him. School or a mutual friend I think? Scott was not her boyfriend. Not ever. From what I understand- he wanted to be & was angry with my mom for rejecting his offer to be lovers. He called her for help with one of his many problems one night & was very emotional. She met him at a park to talk to him & offer her advice & support. All I know is that Scott didn't want to talk & lied to my mom so she would meet him. There was a struggle. A lit cigarette held close to her face. Scott was high & angry. My mom just wanted to go home, unharmed. That night didn't go as planned. A few weeks later, after Jeff moved & Scott disappeared... She found out she was pregnant with me. She didn't know who the father was. Jeff & Scott were both informed of the pregnancy. Each of them knew that they might be my father. Paul also was either told or found out that baby #2 was on the way. 9 months later... I was born. Paul was the only one of three who came to the hospital. He is also the only one to have a DNA test performed. Negative. Jeff- I'm not sure how many times he came to see me. I used to have a picture of one occasion. We were at a park. He looked happy to be with me. I also had one letter & one card he sent me. Both signed Daddy. Last one dated in 1990. No communication since. Scott- I think he came to see me once when I was a baby. I don't know what happened to him. I really don't care. With my luck, he'd be the piece of shit that I share DNA with. I'll probably never know. My biological father has not been confirmed. I have wrestled with the idea of locating Jeff first. If he's not my birth father..then I'll decide if I want to come face to face with the scumbag. I really don't care to meet them, develop any kind of relationship with them, or speak to them. I just want to know if I have any other brothers or sisters & I would like the medical history for that half of my bloodline. My mom knew it was going to be a tough few first years... Duane was 5 & I was a newborn. I guess it helped that Duane lived with Paul primarily. My mom was basically on her own raising me at 22 years young. I think we lived at Nana & Grandma's house on McKay St in Falls Church, VA when I was born. Or maybe that was the time frame when Nana actually moved out of Grandma's to get an apartment with my mom. I really don't know. That was back when our family was still somewhat tight... Uncle Bobby- my mom's brother; the coolest gay guy ever; awesome brother & uncle. RIP 2005 Uncle Tim- Uncle Bobby's life partner for a longgg time. Still call him Uncle Tim. Friends on FB. Aunt Pam- my mom's sister. Used to be so much fun. Then her & Uncle Ric split. He took her smiles or something. She's a loner now. No 1st cousins. All my great aunts & uncles are pretty cool. My second cousins are a lil bit older but we all still played when we were little. Uncle Jerry- my favorite great uncle. Used to volunteer as a clown at the children's cancer hospital. Magician for fun & parties. Harley addiction. Took me on my 1st motorcycle ride. Nana's brother (one of them) The above listed family members are the few that always showed me love & that stick out in my childhood memories. We used to get together at Grandma's on McKay St for every major holiday & family BBQs & get-togethers... I started going when I was a super tiny baby!