Ten

Every year I think about what happened on October 16^th, 2008. I get angry. I get upset. I get scared. I recall every detail. I feel every emotion. I feel his hands around my neck. I feel the gun against my head. I feel the fear in my body for my children in the next room. I feel it all like I am right back in that living room going through it all over again. Every single minute of those hours of torture.

This year is different. And I’ve been having a difficult time putting it into words on why it’s different. Maybe because there has always been this dread in my mind and heart that feels like this was his day of power over me. It was a day where he took so much from me. It was the day I felt my weakest. It was the day I could not protect myself. It was the day where I had the least control ever in my entire life.

So why do I feel different this year? Maybe because enough time has passed? Maybe because I am finally forgiving myself? Maybe because I see how Amber and Hunter are growing into two of the greatest human beings I have ever known? Maybe because I am finally living the life I have always known I wanted and deserved?

Despite why it is different, I do know that I look back on October 16^th, 2008 with gratitude.

Pretty odd word to use when remembering the most horrific thing to ever happen to me. I get it. But this past year, more so than ever before, my mind changed. The way I remember that day has changed.

Ten years ago, my world crashed. Completely crashed. The façade I had let everyone believe was my life was now naked and center stage for everyone to judge. I found myself broken and bloody holding a 20-month-old and an 8-month-old in my arms as every emotion ran through me while not knowing how I would ever be able to feel like I wasn’t drowning. I felt embarrassed. I felt alone.

It’s taken ten years to feel whole again. It’s taken ten years to take back power over how I feel. It’s taken ten years to live the life I truly want to live for me and my family. But I am almost now in a place of understanding and peace. Not all the way there, but pretty damn close.

That’s why I am grateful. Truly and whole-heartedly grateful.

This year I found my voice. In all aspects of my life but mostly against the demon that consumed me. And that demon was my self-doubt and my fear of what HAD happened. Most people are afraid of what WILL happen. Not me. I feared what had happened. I left a part of myself open to all of those feelings from ten years ago. I still allowed myself to be scared to stick up for myself against him. I still allowed myself to have anxiety over things that were out of my control when dealing with him. That’s the realistic aftermath of domestic abuse that people don’t know about because they can’t see it. Physical abuse you can see. It is a glaring sign board of what happened. But bruises fade. Blood gets cleaned up. Torn clothes get thrown out. The house gets put back together. The effects from the emotional abuse is where everything was left up to me to fix. My heart. My soul. My mind.

So, I’m fixing it. From now on I choose to embrace October 16^th as MY DAY and not his day. I have so much joy and love in my life. I would not have had that if I remained where I was. I have the ability to help others in a way many can’t. I would not have had that if I did not endure what I did.

October 16^th is now my Independence Day. It is a day I will celebrate being given the gift of freedom. That day made me unstoppable. It made me stronger than I ever could have been. It gave me the opportunity to start over and make a life I wanted to live – day in and day out. And for that… I am grateful.

A message to anyone out there who is in any toxic relationship: You don't have to be. No matter what the circumstance. Take control of your life. You only live it once. Focus on what is good or could be good and forget what holds you back. Your reasons for why you should stay should not outweigh your desires to live the life you deserve to live. 

If you or someone you know is in an abusive relationship please reach out for help. No matter what you think it might cost. Because whatever it costs you is worth less than someone's life. 

1-877-R-U-ABUSED

http://www.jbws.org/index.html

It’s Really Not How It Seems

Here comes a bigggg truth bomb. 

I hear it a lot... Heather I have no idea how you do it. You’re super mom. You’re an inspiration to me. You make me feel so motivated.

Honestly though... that’s you putting yourself down because you’re comparing yourself to me. So. I’m going to just let the truth run wild so you all know I’m the furthest from having my shit together. 

I’m the mom who goes into the laundry room and shuts the door and turns on an empty dryer and has mascara running because I have tears streaming down my face while I drink from a full bottle of wine because I cannot hear the word “mommy” anymore. 

I’m the mom who has all these grand plans of spending the day making my home Clorox clean while all my kids are in school and then I wake up to one kid with pink eye, another who needs something dropped off at school because they forgot it after I reminded them 7 times, and also needs to spontaneously go to Verizon because my phone refuses to work, for them to tell me my phone needs to be replaced by Apple, and then I go to Apple with a pink eyed two year old that makes the energizer bunny look like the sloth from DMV scene in Zootopia only to be told I needed an appointment and need to come back in an hour and a half which means I need to find something to do with the pink eyed two year old while I wait for my “appointment” which by the way is really just a fuck you word for “waiting.”

Good news on that example, I made it home in time for the aforementioned two year old to get a nap in before I picked the others up from school. Even if that nap was 20 minutes I’m taking it as a small win. 

I’m the mom who every day knows I could do better. I’m the mom who loves my children with everything I have however most days I don’t like them. I’m the mom who loves to cook healthy and work out but usually ends up eating chicken nuggets from McDonalds or pizza and having my only workout be the million times I run to and from the bathroom to help my “potty trained” 3 year old wipe herself. 

I’m the mom who lives paycheck to paycheck and depends on overtime to buy groceries and put gas in my car yet can always find the money or work more in order to spoil my kids too much with things they’ll just end up breaking or get taken away as punishment when they talk back to me for the 19th time in one hour. 

I’m the mom who tries to do special things and make moments that will build good memories for my kids only to have them ruin them by fighting with each other or them not being grateful and then me getting mad and ruining it more and throwing my hands in the air and screaming “Why do I even bother?”

I could go on and on. But we all live this. We all think we aren’t doing a good enough job. Is 4 too much? Yup. Would 3 have been enough? Nope. So it’s time to re-evaluate my so-called self-defining fails. 

Me in the laundry room... pathetic to some. When I look at it I realize I spared my kids from feeling bad about whatever I was stressed and mad about to the point of needing to put myself in time out. 

Pink eye ridden two year old at Apple after the pediatricians office... did it suck I got nothing accomplished on my to-do list? Absolutely. However. No one else in my family got pink eye and I have an operational new phone for free and 20 minutes of quiet time where I literally sat in silence. That never happens. So what my list didn’t get done. I got other things accomplished. And let’s be honest. My Clorox clean house would have looked like I never cleaned it 10 minutes after the Fierce Four got home. 

Knowing I could do better by not inhaling chicken nuggets and getting to an actual gym... at least everyone in the house likes chicken nuggets and I didn’t have to make 5 different meals for 6 different people because the Fierce Four refuse to eat my healthy meals... and at least she is “potty trained” even if she does need my help wiping. 

Paycheck to paycheck... well. Can’t take it with me when I die. And they have food. And do have nice things (even if they break them). And we do go on vacations. So. Maybe the stress is worth it. 

Those failed special moments... it’s still time spent with my kids. And yeah maybe we don’t like each other enough to sit through a full game of monopoly but we do love when we get smacked in the face with pie. And the time spent together is still the memory. 

But at the end of the day, after the perfectionist Instagram and Facebook posts and perfectly filtered selfies, we all are just surviving. That’s the truth. That’s the inspiration.