It’s My Fault She Was Hit

My life is like a really bad written soap opera. Who ever is writing the script needs to do a rewrite, because I’m honestly tired. And it’s getting too out of hand.

I was at work when my mom texted me saying that my ex’s mom wanted to talk to her in person. It was rather strange for me. Immediately all the thoughts flooded to my head, did she find out? Did she see something online about me? Did she see me celebrate my birthday?

When you don’t know the facts the mind can be one of the most creative places ever to exist. That’s where my mind went to. My deepest fears.

She then asked if we could talk when I got home. I messaged her yes while I was shaking my head no. Was I about to come out? I prepped myself. What was I going to say? How was I going to tell my side of the story? How was I going to explain it?

I got home and things were more quiet than usual. As if someone sound proofed the rest of the world from our home.

She was ready at the kitchen table. Calm. Gathered. I sat on the other side. She had been crying. I could tell by the way her eyes look. Tired, concerned, and irritated.

What came out of her mouth next was not what I had rehearsed on the drive home.

My ex’s father had hit my ex. Across the face. Bloody nose and everything.

I felt cold. I felt terror. I felt like I should have been the one to take the blow. I deserved it anyway. I put her in the line of Fire. I used her as a road block, as a speed bump, something to help me run and hide from who I really am.

I asked her why. What happened? I could barley manage the words out of my mouth. It was dry. I needed water. I felt faint. I almost threw up.

She told me that she’s been sad ever since our break up. She’d been depressed. She’s been missing.. me. She’s been angry, furious. Why? At who? Her father. Because I put that in her head. Because I told her things weren’t going to work out because her father was too over protective. Because he would never let her spend time with me. Because he would never let me go over. Because he would never let me see her. Because he ruined our relationship.

It’s my fault she was hit.

It’s my fault she took too much and finally screamed her guts out to her abusive father.

It was my fault he didn’t take it well. I turned her against him. I did.

It’s my fault.

I feel like all this time I’ve been carrying gallons of gasoline, but it’s been leaking for the longest time and everything behind me is now catching fire.

When will the fire catch up to me?

For Anyone Who Has A Family Member Out There Going Through The Stages Of Breast Cancer

It’s pumpkin spice season everywhere again from lattes to ice cream. Along with that, stores once again bring out Christmas trees in mid October to force you to believe that if you don’t have a Christmas tree, is it really Christmas?

Nonetheless, October marks the start of a really special time for me. It has always been special to me. From the weather changing to hot to cool and the sun setting sooner. From the cold air in the mornings to the chilling wind at night. Everything feels different.

Even Halloween, which used to be my favorite holiday, how could it not? Free unlimited candy, getting to dress up as something you’re not, and scary movies at midnight. But now, there’s something even more special about October, and it’s that it’s Brest Cancer Awareness Month.

Breast cancer awareness has been going on for many many years, but it never actually meant anything to me until about two years ago. I knew about it. I knew women were very prone to breast cancer, but I did not understand the actual damage breast cancer can do to a person and to the persons family. Yes, I knew it was bad, horrible even, I mean it’s a cancer, but I hadn’t seen it from the inside as I had when my mother was diagnosed with it.

I can’t speak for how she felt when she found out that she had breast cancer. I can only speak for myself. And this is actually really for anyone who has a family member out there going through the stages of this horrible disease.

I know how you feel, I was there. I cried so much. And it’s ok to cry, you’re human and you need to let it out. Trust me it’s so hard to try to keep it all together. That’s what I thought. I thought that by always showing a strong stern face at every moment, I would be stronger. But all that energy I used to do so I needed it be there for my mother.

Another thing that I discovered is that it’s okay to tell people. Don’t keep it to yourself. Sure, some people will pity you and some people will praise you for being so brave. Stick to those people and let the other people go. You need all the help you can get, all the support, and love that friends will bring you. Because your time soon will be given to your loved one, and that’s all you’ll want to do.

And now, with all the hospital visits, the surgeries, and the recovery that I have seen my mother go through it has made me apréciate her so much more and realize what a strong woman she is. A powerful, courage, strong woman.

So if you have some one out there going through this, be there for them, cry with them, and don’t take them for granted, don’t let them give up the fight. If you’re the one going through this, let me tell you I’m sorry, but you are strong, and you will fight this. You will be victorious.

Great Things

My mother is one of the strongest women I know. I don’t say that because she is my mother but because I’ve seen what’s she’s been through and it amazes me how good of a person she still is. Some people would walk around like with a sour taste in their tongues wishing bad about people just like they have received themselves.

I’ve learned a lot from her, sometimes or should I say most of the time, she would tell me things and I would ignore her because I was always the one that was correct right? Wrong. The one thing I wish I had always done was actually pay attention to the instructions she had to say.

It a always been for my own good. She’s not greedy, she’s not mean, and she’s only shown love towards me. But like any other young adult the parents are the ones that are wrong and after us which is not true.

Parents have experience maybe twice as much as you have or even more, maybe it was a different era, different times, and obstacles but the concept was the same. So maybe you should listen to them no?

Of course I know there are some parents that have an exception. But still, finding the wrong in them before you give them a chance just doesn’t make any sense. We all need chances and some of us need more than others but sometimes those chances bring upon great things.

Moving This Mountain 

          Yesterday I took my mom to the doctor. It was time for her staples to come out. It was a little of a wait but when we finally got in they took the staples out. My mom said it didn’t hurt like she thought it was going to. When they were off she said she felt better. But then she looked down. I feel like my heart had just shattered into a million pieces then was set on fire. Looking at her face, seeing how hurt she was. Looking down and seeing what she saw. The scar that was now forming. 

          I put my hand on her shoulder and told her she was strong. Not because she’s my mom, but she is one of the strongest women I know. She felt a little better. I try my best to comfort her as best as I can. I know I can’t make that hurt that she feels go away but I can help her though it. She seems at peace with what happened but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t emotionally hurt still. It changes everything. 

          Like yesterday before we went she wanted to wear a scarf. I asked her why? She told me that she just felt like it. But I knew she just didn’t feel comfortable going out like that. That gave me such a pain in my chest. Knowing she feels that way. That people will look. Jerks. They don’t even know what we have gone through, but it’s the sad truth, they judge. So I let her wear it, and I told her she looked beautiful. 

          We are still trying to move this mountain. It’s hard but here we are. One day at a time. It gives me much joy seeing how she’s returning to herself. Getting up and waking around. Even yelling at my brother and me to make our beds and clean up. I missed her. I missed that part of her. The part that made her my mom. No matter what happened, she’s still my mom. She will always be, and I will always love her, And it makes me happy that with each day that passes by she gets better. Physically and emotional. 

And it will be moved

Emotional Recovery 

            Today we had our first check up since my moms surgery. According to the doctor everything is turning out “beautifully”. Makes me happy to hear that. Although while we were there and they were taking the gauze off I had to help undress my mom. 

            Now, never did I think I would be doing such thing. But, her health is my priority. Once the gauze was off I got to see the wound. It wasn’t a pretty site. It was actually a little unsettling. If I was shaken up about it, I can only imagen how she felt. Like, a part of her, a part that made her her, is now gone. 

            Once the doctor was examining her, I sat there thinking, how would I feel if a part of me was no more? How would you feel? It’s something that you have to kind of train your brain to think about, and also later accept. Then I thought of all the women who get mastectomies and they have to remove both breasts. That must be wicked hard. And I have mad respect for them. If your one of them, you are strong and I am proud of you. 

            If your a guy reading this and you don’t understand because your a cold hearted and closed minded asshole, just picture someone taking one of your balls off, maybe even both. How would you feel? They are part of you. Part of what make you male. So for a women to get a breast or breasts removed is hard. Extremely hard. Because sure they can take your balls off no one would notice. But breasts are pretty visible. 

            Anyway, the doctor said there might not even be any need for chemo, but that would be up to the oncologist. We have to make an appointment to see him soon. 

            I could tell that my mom was shaken up about seeing her wound. She said she didn’t want to see it but she did anyway. I hugged her and encouraged her the most that I could. Got her to see the bright side of all this. This is all for the better and her health is the most important thing. She cheered up a bit once I started making my little jokes, I like to see her smile. 

            Now, hopefully we are on the path of recovery. I have to find some exercises for her arm so it won’t stiffen up. Also maybe a bra that will get her self estime up a little. I know this isn’t easy for her and I want to make it as easy and as painless as I can. Even though it’s a lot of physical recovery I feel that there will also be a lot of emotional recovery, and I will be there every step of the way to make it better.