Hurt: Hard Liquor and Connect Four

Charlie tells me hard liquor fixes everything. That is if it is drank while playing a board game. Its funny his brother said the exact same thing about liquor and marshmallows. Liquor and marshmallows fixed my sorority girl problems when followed by a dose of manly advice.

Advice that seemed to flow into one ear and out the other. Sometimes I’d listen to Connor and other times I’d nod my head as he rambled on. Often his voice was drowned out by the crashing waves that hit the shores of park point. I’d give anything to be back on that beach. I know it’s a lost cause, so I guess hard liquor and board games will do.

A good friend knows that your fretting just by the look in your eyes. As Charlie opened the door he took one look and said “Oh babe I’ll grab the wine, you wanna play connect four?” I haven’t played connect four in years. Charlie was way to excited for this he popped the cork and ripped the box open. I watched quietly as he eagerly put the game together and popped the checkers out from their plastic mold. He looked at me padded the floor, “Here babes it’s all set. Now whats your problem today?” I just laughed.

Laughter provides me with comfort. If I can laugh no one needs to know that on the inside I am falling apart. No one needs to know that I hurt someone and have no idea how to repair the harm I’ve caused.

In truth I’m not even really sure what I did. If I knew I would fix it. One thing I’ve learned in life is that men are complicated. Oh God are they complicated creatures. Manuals, men need to come with manuals. That would be awesome, we could just look up strange look and bingo we’d know exactly what we did wrong. I think a man manual is a few years off, after all we did just get a little thing called the iPad.

Since I don’t have a man manual I guess Charlie’s insight will have to do. I slipped my first checker into the slot. Charlie told me “Amjay your black, yea cause your mood if funky today kiddo.” Some days I want to kick Charlie. But today is not his lucky day. After all he is putting up with me and my big girl problems.

Problems that seem so simple yet so hard to solve. One can’t hash out old feelings if the other side isn’t willing to talk. I am tired of this game we play. I throw a text out there. You don’t respond. I see you in the skyway, I duck and turn my back. I even hold my breath as I get into the elevator in this very building praying it doesn’t stop on your floor.

Then one day I realized something. We are adults. So as fate would have it I ran into you late one night. I was going to keep on walking but, hello flew out of my mouth faster than I could walk away. I was stuck. We exchanged pleasantries and that was that. Again I chucked another text message into the wind. Nothing. Nothing comes back. Are paths crossed again. Being the bigger person I said hi, you coldly said hello and darted away. I figured you were busy.

This game needs to stop. I am tired of it. I am sorry, I truly am sorry for whatever I said, did or text to you. It was never my intention to hurt you. I met you at the wrong time. I met you when my life as I knew it was slipping through my fingers. It was changing faster than I can spell Mississippi. Its funny one year ago today I was sitting next to you carrying on a conversation. Your ADHD brain switching topics faster than I could think. Yet, I kept up with you as you chatted about your job, your new bike, daughter, and whale wars.

To be honest I didn’t know where it would go and how it would end. It didn’t really end, it just kind of fizzled. An life got busy for me and you.

I explained this all to Charlie. He looked at me, ha Amjay connect four I win! take a shot!. I downed the shot. Charlie always laughs as I wiggle after taking a shot of whiskey. He tells me ” You’d make a sad man, men don’t wiggle after downing a shot of whiskey!”

An babes “Men don’t walk away from unfinished business. Fate will give you the chance to explain. You just need to be patient and let things flow. If he never mans up, its his loss and well he’ll just have to be angry forever. There’s nothing you can do to change how he feels. He doesn’t know you, he is missing out on the real AmandaJean that we all know and love. Hell what man doesn’t like a woman who swears like a truck driver. You need to put your manly pants on and think like a man hun.”

Oh boy. Manly pants. I don’t think I have manly pants. Ha! Charlie look at that connect four! I win. “See babes you’ve got your manly pants on!” Hard liquor doesn’t fix everything, but playing a game takes your mind off the world. Charlie maybe on to something here.

Happy Fathers Day Pete

I am so thankful to be able to celebrate fathers day with Pete. It’s hard for me to think that my pillar of strength was almost taken away from me 10 years ago. This man isn’t just my father, Pete is a late night therapist, a cheer leader, and mostly he is my best friend. This man gave me life. He taught me to have faith in things unseen and to always always have HOPE.

I love you Pete.

Standing On The Other Side Of Divorce

June 27th will mark 1 year since I left my x husband. Wow, really wow one year is almost here. I remember the day I left and how broken I was. The woman that pulled the prius out of the drive on Brighton trail, isn’t the woman I know today.

Honestly I was never happy in my marriage. I kept up a good act of making people think we were the perfect couple in the perfect house. The house that was supposed to make us closer turned into a 3,000 sq foot battle ground. A battle that was always raging. In truth I was dying inside. I was trying to earn the love of a man who never wanted me.

A man who shoved my dreams, my needs, and wants to the bottom of the pile. His family (brothers and parents) always came before me. Heck I wasn’t even second on his list. He cared more about his whores, than me. He gave compliments, glances, and his kindness to every woman that wasn’t his wife. He’d sneak off in the middle of the night to warm another woman’s bed, Craigslist was his play ground, and I was left alone. Left trying to make our marriage work.

Work was something he never understood. He never understood that we were suppose to be a team. That it took two to make a marriage. He was always checked out and I was left to take care of his child. A child that I didn’t want to lose. I worked hard to give Nylan a family, a home, and a life he deserved to live. I would count down the days until Nylan would arrive from Texas. Plan outings, meals, and revel in the joy he gave me. Nylan, is the sole reason I stayed.

I felt I owed it to Nylan to make our family work, so I stayed. Soon, I couldn’t take it anymore. I brought it up to the x and a huge argument exploded before my eyes. He told me ” your fat I am not attracted to you anymore. You are the only problem in our marriage.” Thats right in his eyes, I was always the problem and he never did anything wrong. I hate to say it, but his choice in women isn’t the greatest. As long as she was loose, ready and willing he’d fuck her until the sun came up. I’m sorry but your never going to find a quality woman on craigs list. I had enough.

I had nothing left to give to this man and I no longer had the strength to make things work. I was a stranger in my own body. No one has ever made me feel like he did and no one will ever belittle me again.

No one will ever rob me of my happiness, my self-worth, and my kung fu again. The day I walked out of that house, I felt a dump truck lift off my shoulders. I had hope again. My laugh was more bubbly, my smile a little brighter, and my life was mine to live.

I was free. Free from the mental and emotional abuse he laid apon me. Free to dream, to dare, and free to hope for a better day. Mainly I realized that I am worth it. That I matter in this world.

One Year Later:

I realize now that giving up law school for marriage was the DUMBEST decision I have ever made in my life. Yet, it isn’t something I would change. Because each moment of darkness we endure makes us stronger. When I first left, I didn’t realize that I had been a victim of abuse. To me abuse happens when someone throws a punch. Abuse in a marriage takes many forms, for me it was mental and emotional. With the help of my family, friends, and one hell of a therapist I came out on the other side. I cried the first time that someone told me I mattered. It had been five long years since I had heard the words “You matter to me.”

Knowing that I matter heals some of the pain and brings me comfort on quiet nights. The first few months were rough, I was trying desperately to find a rhythm and clinging to anything I could grasp. Slowly I found the rhythm and let go of the safety net. The constant need to be in contact with friends dwindled. Long gone are the months of 8,000 text messages. They have been replaced with independence and the ability to just be. To be me, without my black berry glued to my hand. My hands actually hold other things now. An my friends have grown with me.

We had to learn together. They had to realize that a lack of a text, tweet, or message doesn’t mean I’m dead. In reality I can’t blame them for being concerned, after all I did almost die on my friends and family. They know that I love them and that this is how the pre-marriage AmandaJean used to be.

That I am back, the sassy, stubborn, big-hearted, independent take no bull shit from anyone AmandaJean is back. I have dabbled in dating. Dating provides me with more blunders than successes. I am still single and at the end of the day I am ok with that.

The x husband would tell me “bear you’ll never make it on your own.” Well I’ve got a roof over my head, my bills are paid, the muppet has food in his bowl and my bank account is in the positive.

Fuck you Scott! I made it!

Strength In A Bottle

There are days I wish I could head to Target and ask the pharmacist “Do you have strength in a bottle?” Imagine the blank stare I’d get from the pharmacist. Trust me I’ve searched and a bottle of Strength isn’t in the vitamin isle nor is it in the beverage isle. Strength is something we gain, something we pull out of our little toe when we have nothing left to go on.

It amazes me how cruel people can be and how quickly they pass judgement on to someone. The other day someone told me: “Ya know AmandaJean your infertility is God’s way of thinning the heard.” I honestly didn’t know what to do, I just looked down at the ground and said “I didn’t do this to myself, I am not flawed, my my body just got destroyed.”

People are so quick to judge. If they only knew what I’ve been through, what happened to me. Then, then they would understand. My body wasn’t meant to carry a child, my eggs are fertile, but I can’t go through IVF because of the hormones. The hormones are what put me in this mess. The birth control I used robbed me of my body and it took away they very thing I was trying to prevent. Yet, that very same birth control that almost ended my life, brought me more strength than I could ever imagine.

The strength to live, the strength to inject myself twice a day for 3 weeks with life saving Lovenox, the strength to endure 6 months of twice a week INR tests, countless CT Scans, and the strength to take a new infection in my lung with a grain of salt. Strength to understand that I will never be the woman that I once was. Time and time again I am reminded of how lucky I am. Reminded that if I had gotten to the hospital 5 minutes later, I would be dead. Thats right I would have been dead at 26.

Death is the alternative and that is one I am not willing to visit anytime soon. Uterine cancer tried to take over my body. It lost I won. Winning is something I’ve been doing a lot of lately. The best decision I made was to fight for my body and bring it back from the aftermath of the birth control.

Slowly my body is coming back. The meds are right, vitamins are great, and today is a good day. Tomorrow is uncertain and constant chest pain reminds me to fight a little harder. There are days where I am ok with not having children and then there are days where I cry into my cheeros before work. I have always been a fan of options.

Options provide me with hope and I don’t want to completely close the door on motherhood. My right of carrying and creating a child was taken from me. An I will be damned if someone or anyone tries to take away my option of adoption or a surrogate. Those options are mine and you can’t take them from me.

So this is what I have to say to the haters and to the people who don’t understand: No, my inability to carry a child is not God’s way of thinning the heard. It is not his way of eliminating my genes from the gene pool. He is looking out for me and that is why God brought me Angela, a woman who wants to be my surrogate. That is why we have thousands of orphans all around the world waiting for a woman like me to be there mom. I am not damaged, I am not flawed, nor am I inferior to you. I am simply me and this, this was God’s plan. You can look down on me and you can snicker behind my back. Go ahead throw your religous garbage at my feet and make me feel weak. Because nothing you can say or do will make me feel inferior. Nothing will break my strength. Maybe one day when I don’t need it, I will bottle my strength and sell it to you.