5. The best and the worst

Being a mom was unlike anything I had ever experienced. My own tiny human, that I and the man I loved created. Having a child is the most intimate experience you can have with someone you love. They talked about soul ties when you have sex with someone, but holy shit the soul ties when you have a child with someone. Looking at the beautiful little one that was half me and half my husband, I’d never experienced a love like this. I’ve never loved anyone to the degree that I did my own child.

It was a little difficult, I won’t lie. I didn’t have a clue what the fuck I was doing. There were nights where I’d bawl my eyes out because my son wouldn’t stop crying. I fed him, changed him, loved on him, and did everything I could think of. I finally just collapsed in front of the crib and bawled my eyes out. At that point, I called my mother crying. She told me to relax, take a break, and let him cry for about 15 minutes. She told me to just shut his door, go into the living room and listen to some music.

When I re-entered the room, he had gone quiet. He was happy. I picked him up and snuggled him. And we were happy. I wanted everything in the world for him. I couldn’t even go shopping and not get him something. I wanted to give him as much as I could.

My son loved his daddy, even if he spent most of the time with Mommy. My husband loved our son. He wasn’t fond of changing diapers, but what person isn’t? Something I had also noticed is that he only wanted to do the fun stuff. When it came to feeding, changing, or bathing, he’d rarely do it. That was annoying. But we were being taken care of. I got to spend every day of my life with my child, and if that isn’t the biggest blessing in the world, I don’t know what is.

The child took up a lot of my time and energy, and I have to say, my marriage made sacrifices. We had decided early on before he was sleeping through the night to take “shifts.” I’d sleep from 10pm to 4am and he would take care of the baby. Obviously he wasn’t up all night, but if he woke up, I would still get continuous sleep. Then I would get up at 4am and my husband would go to sleep. This is before he would go back to work.

The night I went into labor, I noticed my husband being a little shady with his computer. We had been doing so good, please oh God don’t let him be fucking it up right now. I expressed my concerns, but he quickly dismissed them. He looked at me straight in the eye and said, “I will never do that again. You can read whatever you want.” The thing about my husband is, when asked, he always tells the truth. He’ll omit like his life depends on it, but he never lied to me when I straight up asked him. However, whenever I had these feelings, I was always right. But, I just kinda stood there, and was like, “Wait, I’m wrong?” That’s weird. But I let it go, after all, I started having contractions that night.

Things were becoming distant with my husband. When I was not taking care of our little one, I did my best to try to give my husband what he needed. I’d dress up in lingerie for him, but he did not seem interested. I tried to make the effort, but he didn’t want it. Talk about insecurity for a woman who just had a baby. I remained relatively small throughout my pregnancy, up until the last month. But I had a bazillion stretch marks all over my tummy and I was not too thrilled.

I didn’t feel pretty, and the lack of interest from the man I married did not help. I felt defeated. So I let him play his video games and retreated to my room. See, this is the point where we should have talked, expressed our feelings, and tried to come to some sort of reconciliation. But no, both of us remained silent.

When you are not doing your duties as a spouse, people start looking elsewhere. It’s not right or justified, but it does happen. My “elsewhere” came in the form of my high school love. We’ll call him Max.

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4. Where crazy began for me

My relationship was going good for the month, but then I started noticing some subtle changes. He was spending a lot of time on his computer, particularly in the Skype program.

Little did I know at the time, he was talking to his ex. This was the first crushing blow. He was telling her how much he loved her and missed her, and sometimes he’d almost accidentally call me by her name. Lovely. Just what I wanted to read. Not to mention, the stockpiles of naked pics of her in the gallery.

My heart was broken. And that’s the first time I learned not to trust. I confronted him and we had a conversation. He basically came out saying he wanted to be with her. I was so upset, worse than when I lost my virginity. I felt betrayed, but I let it go. He was confused. I told him that when he gets his priorities straight, he was gonna know it was gonna be me.

I was stuck on that whole “I’m gonna marry him” feeling. He and I were on and off for the next few months. I’d check his shit, delete the bitches, and we’d fight. See, when it was good, it was really good. But goddamn that social media (I say in irony). But to catch up, we had hit a point where we both finally felt we were going to be together for good. And that’s when I decided to get pregnant. I just wanted to be married and have a family. His goals were parallel to mine.

So I was pregnant at 19. I decided to get out of the military because we were planning to get married, and I didn’t want both of us to have to deploy away from our child. I filed for separation and it was granted. I was pregnant in March of 2011, and then we were to be married in September of 2011.

I was so excited to be pregnant. I took like four pregnancy tests, hoping they would be positive. And the very last one was. I remember being so overjoyed. I was ecstatic. I couldn’t wait to tell everyone, except my parents, perhaps. But it wasn’t too bad.

What essentially sucked is what happened that summer. He had already planned a trip to visit his family back in the states and put in for leave. So, I was going a couple weeks without the father of my child and my fiance. But it would be okay. I’d survive.

Not far into his trip, I had a horrible nightmare of him cheating on me while he was at home. Something about it rocked me to my core. I had read that during pregnancy, these types of dreams were likely to happen, simply on the fact that you are committing in a big way and your subconscious worries internally. But I had Skyped him and he told me not to worry. He wouldn’t do anything.

LIE, LIE, LIE SOME MORE.

I swear, is lying built into each man when he’s created? Because I’m pretty sure they are the root of all evil. I had gotten a phone call from his other ex, we’ll call her Hannah. Hannah had told me that he had made out with another girl at a party and she wasn’t sure if they’d slept together.

My worst fear had materialized. It had come out of my prego brain and manifested into my real life. I was extremely heart broken at this point. We were supposed to get married, I was pregnant with his baby, and it took him all of 9 days of being away from me to hop on another girl. What the actual fuck?

I had already filed for separation and it was granted. I was supposed to get married. What the fuck was I to do now? My worst fear was being a single mother at that point. Now I know women around the world do it every day, and I commend you. That’s amazing. But it wasn’t what I wanted. I don’t know many women that consciously thought, “Hey, I want to have a baby all by myself.” Now, there are some, but not many.

I confronted him over the internet and he told me the truth. He expressed to me that he had not slept with her, but that it was only a kiss.

Only a kiss. Only a kiss. Only. A. Kiss. It’s only a knife. Just a knife stabbed in your leg. You won’t die from it. You’ll just bleed a lot. But it won’t kill you.

I had to hold on to these words, otherwise, my life was going to take a drastic turn I wasn’t prepared for. I had put all my eggs in one basket, and this basket turned out to be weak and non-dependable. At this point, I had to repair it, or I was going to lose everything.

When he returned, I was very cold to him. He wanted our relationship to keep moving forward. I, on the other hand, kind of wanted him to suffer. That was the first time I had ever had hateful thoughts toward someone.

I was very soft-hearted as a person. I grew up with a lot of love around me. I had no knowledge of the outside world. I was never taught how to function as an adult. So this adult life, this relationship shit, this cheating bullshit, really affected me. I was doing the best I could, and somehow the man I loved still looked the other way.

WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH MEN? Okay, now I get it. Not all men are this way, and not just men cheat. I’ve cheated before. But we’ll get more into that later. At this point, I had a fairly clean slate when it came to my relationships. I had a hoe phase shortly before he and I got together, in which I made some terrible decisions that affected people as a whole. I thought maybe this was my karma for that.

So I pulled my relationship together. I made him go to premarital counseling, which literally was like one session. He couldn’t stand the idea of someone telling him how to live his life. DON’T CHEAT. That’s it. For the love of God, stop cheating over social media. Stop sending pictures, stop being a goddamn idiot. Nothing grates on my nerves more than that shit. And our world makes it so fucking easy now.

There was one more incident before he and I were to be married. I busted him exchanging pictures with Hannah, the bitch that told me that he had kissed the other girl. Figures, right. You’d think this would be the last straw, but it wasn’t. I knew that he wanted a marriage and a family more than anything. He wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize that. I had told him that the moment he married me, he needed to let all that childish shit go. We were adults. We were going to be parents. He needed to be an example of what our child would look up to. Our son. Yes, I was having a boy.

On September 21st, we got married. None of our family was there, and it was done at the courthouse on base, so it wasn’t fancy by any means. But, I was happy.

I have had about four months in my life where I was truly happy. It’s the most amazing thing, when you literally aren’t worried about anything. I was completely in love with my husband, excited to be a housewife, and I couldn’t wait until my baby boy was born.

We were the only couple of our friends that were married. The rest of them were single Airmen. So our house became home to many of our friends. We had a big Thanksgiving dinner, and Christmas Eve with all of our friends. We were the glue that held everything together. I loved hosting parties. He would invite all his friends over to play video games or Yu-Gi-Oh! and I would make dinner for everyone. I was the hostess. It’s the most fun I’ve ever had.

Being a wife had calmed the wild side in me. I don’t know how, but everything was coming together. I hadn’t had any issue with my husband, and we were honestly so excited for our baby. We bought him only the best of stuff. His nursery theme was Ocean Wonders and we spared no expense. One thing about my husband I’ve always admired, is the fact that money was never an issue. The military basically paid for everything and left overs was used to pay whatever we want. And he spoiled me. Boy, did he spoil me. And in return, I treated him like a king. He never asked it of me, but I wanted to do it for him. He deserved it. I was happy, in love, and waiting for my son to make his debut.

3. Building for a future I wasn’t supposed to have

“They say that love is forever
Your forever is all that I need
Please stay as long as you need
Can’t promise that things won’t be broken
But I swear that I will never leave
Please stay forever with me”

~Sleeping With Sirens “If I’m James Dean, Then You’re Audrey Hepburn”

Courtesy of Rise Records

I met the man who would become the father of my future children in Japan. He had switched assignment with a girl in my class in tech school, back at Lackland AFB. He had actually been dating one of the girls in my class, but was further along in his training. He was toting around an acoustic guitar and walking by the dorms when I was headed home from work. He worked at the dining facility and I worked at the gym. Clearly, we were doing big things for our country. I’d stop by and chat for a little bit.

I had gone through a recent break up due to cheating on my boyfriend because he gave me permission. My boyfriend was totally gay, but we were best friends. He gave me a free pass, because he wouldn’t have sex with me, and I took it. Apparently, he didn’t think I’d do it, and then was mad when I did it. He wasn’t even attracted to me. That’s gotta be one of the weirdest relationships I’ve ever had.

So my first steps into adulthood and I was learning that relationships were more complicated than I could have ever anticipated. Like, how am I finding these weird ass relationships? I had a traditional thought of relationships. You date, meet “The One”, get married and have kids, then live happily ever after. A naive thought, I’d discover over the years.

But this guy, he was different. He wasn’t married, wasn’t gay, but was lonely. We hung out a couple times, and our hangouts were becoming more frequent. I knew he wanted to date me, but I wasn’t ready for it. We started having casual sex. He was the absolute sweetest. He opened doors for me, had a little country boy accent. He was something I never would have expected to be remotely interested in. I wanted a rock star. A guy with black hair, dark eyes, tattoos, and eyeliner. No joke. I pretty much fell in love with opposite.

Like all relationships, this one did not come without its struggles. The first struggle being the fact that I had to get my head out of my ass and realize that someone amazing wanted to be a part of my life. So I did. December 2011, we started dating. I fell in love fast. Within a week of dating, I knew that I was going to marry him. Don’t ask me how or why, I just looked at him in the car and felt it. I was like “Oh shit.” And I didn’t necessarily want to marry him at that point, but something telling me inside said I was.

Everybody’s got a dark side, or some sort of downside. We’re only human. We’re bound to make mistakes and keep making them. Hell, if I don’t make a mistake at least once a day, it doesn’t feel like an actual day. If I’m not fucking things up on the daily, something’s seriously wrong.

With this particular one, he was hung up on his ex who was the girl that used to be in my class. She was back in the states. Why are they always hung up on their exes? I mean, let’s talk about this. Does any man actually move on from someone they loved? Or do they secretly pine away for the ex before. Over the years, I have completely moved on from exes. I’ve learned to completely detach myself from past relationships. These men could stand to learn a few things.

THERE IS NOTHING WORSE THAN LETTING AN EX INTO YOUR CURRENT RELATIONSHIP.

Like for fucking real. Honestly, it’s worse than letting a new person into your relationship. I literally would rather be cheated on with a new bitch I’d never heard of, than someone I know full-well who they are and how you felt about them. We girls always have that comparative insecurity. We compare until we’re blue in the face.

SO IF YOU WANT A FUNCTIONAL RELATIONSHIP, MAKE SURE YOUR MAN KNOW TO KEEP HIS STUPID FUCKING EX AND HER CUNT FACE OUT OF THE RELATIONSHIP NOW.

And this, my friends, is where crazy starts.

2. Inexperience leads to experiences, and not always good.

My first real boyfriend in tech school for the military started receiving indications that I was a little baby-crazy. Now, he was nowhere in the position to be knocking my baby wanting tendencies, solely on the face he was married. That’s right, married. Judge me.

Judge me all you want. Because to you, I’m just some bitch you met on the internet. You don’t know me, and I don’t know you. That’s the whole point of this. But yes, my boyfriend was married. But listen, in my defense, his wife knew. Yes, now this took a different turn. I had met him out a field while we were doing PT. I was injured and so was he, so we were standing on the edge of the field. Well, he was. I’m a lazy-ass motherfucker, so my broken-ass was sitting. In a pile of red ants, I’d soon discover. He was a short mexican boy, with a really fun attitude, and some charm. He was ridiculously smart. Like, the kind of smart you can’t stand. There was shit he talked about that so so scientifically intricate, I’d zone out while he talked because it was just too much for my brain. It was embarrassing really.

I don’t remember how it all started, but he said something about his wife coming to visit. Then he mentioned the idea of a threesome. Apparently, that’s normal now. I did not know this then. I had sheepishly told him I was a virgin. And I was for the most part. I’d experimented with girls when I was younger, but I’d never had a dick in me. Fairly impressive for an 18 year old girl.

I once messed around with my high school teacher when I was 17, and I got caught. Worst high school graduation ever. That teacher was married too. Apparently, I attracted married men. And then with it. Because I’m a moron. For someone who was a virgin, I was kinda turning into a big hoe. That should have been my first clue.

But anyway, he suggested I come out with them one evening and see what sex is like. There was no pressure for me, just to simply observe. Let me tell you, for a virgin who’d never actually held a man’s dick in her life, watching two people you didn’t really know have sex was one of the weirdest experience I had until that point.

I felt intrusive, as if I was watching something I wasn’t allowed to see. Like, why was I there? I was a little uncomfortable, and a lot shy when they pulled me over to the bed. As mentioned before, I had a little experience with girls, so when they invited me to do stuff to her, I was like, okay, I can do this. It was a little more comfortable. I don’t think I did anything with him, although I can’t remember. But I wanted my virginity in tact.

I talked to some of my girl friends about losing my virginity. It was becoming something I just wanted to move past. I had been a religious girl in high school, saving myself for Jesus, and what not. Not that if you’re doing so, it’s wrong. Whatever floats your motherfucking boat. It’s your body. Fuck whoever you want, if you want. But premarital sex was taboo, where I learned about it from. You only want to have sex with your spouse, because sex is something God blessed between a husband and a wife. I was told that if you had sex with someone other than your husband, it meant that you were creating soul ties with another, and it would tear you apart. Also, I was told it hurt a lot. Didn’t make it sound very appealing to be honest. So, I had been flat-out scared to lose it. It wasn’t that I didn’t have offers, just the idea of being naked with someone freaked me the fuck out.

So I decided, well fuck it. Let’s get it over with. And I did. It wasn’t a horrible experience, at least not like some of the nightmares I’ve heard. I lost it in a fancy hotel room. I can’t even be certain I had an orgasm at that point. I don’t think I could tell, so I’m assuming not. It wasn’t bad, but I was more disappointed that I didn’t feel anything different. I got done, and I was like, really? This is what everyone was worried about? I didn’t feel in love, nor was I attached. I expected it to be a little more exciting. This is what they call “becoming a woman?” Very anti-climactic, if I do say so myself.

 

1.Where crazy comes from

1.Where crazy comes from

Nobody starts out crazy. We’re not born out of the vag or tummy being like, “I think I want to be a psycho when I get older. I want to hate everyone around me, not trust anyone, and live in a world full of shit.” At least I didn’t. And maybe I don’t “necessarily” hate “everyone”, but shit, in this world, I’m telling you, there’s a lot of serious dislike.

And I’m not crazy. At least, I’ve never been diagnosed as such. Of course, I’ve never gone to a doctor to test that theory. So we’re going to call me “not crazy.” But the problem is, I feel crazy. I feel it every day. I overthink waaaay too much, panic over the most ridiculous things, worry about everything, and am constantly stressed. But being an adult is being stressed. I know this. It’s not all rainbows, unicorns, and fluffy kittens out here in the adult world. We’re all struggling to make ends meet, pay our bills, work our worthless and underpaid jobs, just trying to make it through one day at a time.

But see, it wasn’t always like this for me. I had a pretty good life, as far as typical lives go. When I was 18, I was stationed in Japan. In 2011, I got out of the military on pregnancy. My boyfriend was in the military as well and we got pregnant. Okay, well I got pregnant.

I know what you’re thinking. Dumb ass teenager went and became a statistic. Can’t use a fucking condom. Irresponsible. And maybe that is the case. Yes, I was young. Did I bite off more than I could chew? Probably. Who doesn’t at some point in their lives? But, I became pregnant on purpose. And it wasn’t to trap my boyfriend. He was aware of it. This was no accident. This was a conscious decision made by two baby adults. You see, when I was 17, my sister had a beautiful baby boy that lived with me and my parents. I spent the first year of my nephew’s life with him. I had not had much experience with babies beforehand. But shortly after my sister brought him home, I fell in love.

Have you ever experienced something in your life and you think to yourself, “This is what I am meant to do.” ? For me, that was being a mom. I can remember the exact moment I wanted to be a mother. My nephew was maybe a week or two and I was in a recliner, with my nephew laying on my chest. No one else was around. I was softly patting his back as his squishy little face nestled into my chest. I was singing quietly to him. I believe the first song I sang to him was called “With Eyes Wide Shut,” by blessthefall. I was an alternative girl, so my music tastes are a little strange to some, especially when looking at me.

I watched his little eyes flutter open and closed, trying to fight sleep, but not making a sound. They finally closed and he lay there, tiny breaths escaping his chest. He look so tranquil, and my heart melted. Even though we had just met and he’d only been in this world for a couple of weeks, I felt so connected to him, and absolutely fell in love. “I want this. I want to be a mom. I want to be one right now.”

Mature seventeen year old I was, I deperately wanted a baby. From that point, I fell in love with babies everywhere. You know those movies like Baby Mama and How To Be Single when these women who want babies start hallucinating babies everywhere? Basically, that was me. Now, I wasn’t seeing full-blown hallucinations (Thank God), but there was an ache inside, knowing desperately I wanted one of my own.