Blog Challenge #2: Passionate Post

     

     Blog challenge number two is a little more of a "challenge" for me because I don't have a business. It seems as though this challenge is to help promote your business. I'm not really a business person. I have tried to promote myself in the past selling painted items, clothing, scrapbooking supplies, even porcelain dolls. I did craft shows, home sales, parties, even had a booth at Costco. I did everything but build a website, but I did think about it. I'm just not a salesman. My dad was a wonderful salesman, supporting our family selling snack foods all over Montana, Idaho, Oregon, Utah, and Washington from a company he successfully built himself. My brothers inherited his great selling skills. We three girls? Not so much. I can get excited about helping someone find art supplies at Michael's, especially if I know what I am talking about, but ask me to push a credit card application or get an email address to fill a quota? Nope. Can't do it. 

     I have always had the ability to sense when someone has something they need to talk about. I am someone people come to when they need to talk. I sometimes say that I have a sign that says, "The doctor is in." Random strangers will start telling me their life stories. And even if I'm busy or have somewhere I need to be, I will stop and listen. I have had this for as long as I can remember. It just happened. I did not cultivate it. I did not ask for it. It just comes with my personality. If you need a good friend, I am it. Tell me a secret and tell me not to tell anyone? That's me. I won't tell a soul. I could have been a therapist. 

     I also say that I have a "Superman Complex." I have a need to save the world. Sick puppies or motherless children? I'm the one to call. Abusive boyfriend or ornery roommates? Tell me about it. I've been there. I have great advice. I will drop whatever I'm doing to help someone who needs to talk or be cheered up. It also comes at an expense. I have a habit of setting aside whatever I need to do to help whomever needs me. Because of this, sometimes I won't answer a phone call or text. Sometimes I'm just too tired or stressed to be that person. Sometimes I have to say no and take care of myself. 

     I was talking to my daughter last night (in our five hour Skype conversation) and she said that she loves when she sees happy people because it makes HER happy. I told her to be the happy person that makes other people happy just by looking at her. That is what I hope to do. I want to be the happy person that can help others be happy. With this blog I hope to reach those that need my help or advice. I can pass on whatever help I can without having to be readily available when there are times I mentally cannot. 

     I am a passionate person in any situation.  Mostly I am passionate about being happy and making others happy. I have seen enough drama in my life to understand what others are experiencing in their own. I know what I have to do to become a happier person and I try extremely hard to pass that on to others. I have had some make comments that I post a lot on Facebook. I'm not posting what I made for dinner, or what color shoes I chose to wear that day, or a funny video, or a bad joke, or even whether or not a Utah driver annoyed me enough to cause road rage. I try really REALLY hard to post positive things. I follow so many self-help gurus, and motivational speakers myself because I choose to surround myself with happy, positive people. And those are the posts that I share on my Facebook page. I know I have friends that are experiencing trials and "stuff" in their lives that they want to get away from.  I know what I share on Facebook helps my friends because some of my friends have personally told me. I know that I am doing what I am supposed to be doing. I am here to help others be as happy as I am trying to be. My blog will touch a larger audience, and maybe stop those naysayers from complaining about too many FB posts. 

Blog Challenge #1: Introducing yourself (What, you mean you don't already know enough about me?)

   

     I decided to join a Blog Challenge that I randomly came across tonight. I cannot even tell you how I found the challenge because it just seemed to drop into my lap. Since I fully believe that everything happens for a reason, I decided to just jump right in.  (If you are interested in joining in, the link to it is here: 7 Day Blogging Challenge.)

    I don't think I've ever actually introduced myself here. Initially writing a blog was for myself, not anyone else so I never thought I needed to. It was like a diary to me, just a place to put my thought barf. I guess if people are actually reading my posts, and thankfully, sharing them, I should get even more personal than I already have been and give a little introduction. 

     My name is Sheridan...well, actually it's Sheri. I go by Sheridan at work because it's on my official legal paperwork, my name tags, and my paychecks. My friends and family call me Sheri. If you've been told to call me Sheri, consider yourself a friend. If you haven't, don't take offense. Give it time. If you still choose to call me Sheridan even after I have told you to call me Sheri, that's okay too. I answer to either. I won't even flinch. 

     I grew up in Edmonds, Washington (north of Seattle), the youngest of six kids. Yes, six. I was an oops. Everything happens for a reason. You have me. Edmonds sits on the Puget Sound and is still the place I call "home." It's where my youth and best memories reside. I haven't lived there in about 28 years but it isn't because I don't want to. That place is expensive! If I could afford it, I'd be there. If you ever get a chance to visit, do it. It's really lovely. There is a great waterfront park, amazing restaurants, and even a ferry terminal. It's an artsy little town that boasts a yearly art's festival and even "Taste of Edmonds," a weekend party of music, beer, and of course, great food. Edmonds is even the residence of Rick Steves, a famous tour company owner. My first trip to Italy was on one of his tours. Great company and a really great experience. I recommend his tours. 

     I currently live in Salt Lake City, Utah. I moved down here almost 2 1/2 years ago to be near my children. My oldest moved to NY about two weeks after I moved here. Was it something I said? This has never been home to me. I am not "married" to this state. I like it here. I really do. It's really beautiful with the mountains and the sunshine, but it's not home. Winters are cold and summers are hot. I don't snow ski. I don't even like to be cold. There is no ocean, no palm trees. I constantly feel like I'm waiting for my next "assignment." Where do I move next? I'd love to move somewhere more year-round summer, like Florida or California. Where is my beach? Someone, please find me a beach. 

     I'm an artist, a writer, a photographer, a front desk clerk at a large international chain hotel, a painting/drawing instructor at a craft store, and a student. I could throw in therapist, police, comedienne, best friend, and mother, but I think those just come with being me. I dream of being a travel writer with a pinch of beach-front artist. My heart and brain are somewhere in Rome most of the time, waiting for the opportunity to return. I'm just waiting for the right moment...and the funds to do so. I'd be perfectly content living out of a suitcase if it meant I could experience the world in a plane, a train, a boat, or the back of a motorcycle. I see travel through childlike eyes, always in awe of the sights that I see. 

     I have been lucky enough to raise four amazing adults. My oldest son is 31 and has blessed me with a beautiful daughter-in-law and the cutest little grandson in existence (he's almost 2). My son and his family live in NY where he works for Blue Sky Studios, the creators of Ice Age, Rio, Rio2, Epic, etc. It's pretty wonderful to have a child that is in animation. Watching their name roll through the credits. His talent continues to amaze me. I don't think he quite understands the pride I feel when I see his drawings. He is living my dream: to get paid to create art. He and I have more of a friend relationship than a mother/child relationship for reasons I won't explain here. I treasure every moment that I can spend with him and his family since they live across country. My oldest is the man every mother dreams of raising. He's the perfect husband, father, and example of priesthood holder. I never have to worry about this one. He makes my life so simple. I love him for that. 

     My second son is 28 and also ridiculously talented. He draws art that compares to the comic book greats in DC comics. He prefers the dark characters like Batman and Joker and boasts tattoos on his legs that he designed himself. He knows everything there is to know about comic books, movies, books. He's the keeper of random comic book facts. He's my troubled son and I worry about him constantly. I had to learn to relinquish control with this one. He's a rebel. He's also one of the sweetest men I know. I lost contact with him when he was around 21 and now when I spend time with him, it's like getting to know someone I never gave birth to. I don't know him very well but I am definitely working on it. I'd do anything to ensure that he is happy the rest of his life but I understand that it is all up to him. 

     My only daughter is 23. She's a gorgeous, talented young woman who has been through way too much for someone her age. Even she says that she feels old. I don't know that I ever felt old. Heck, I don't even now. People would warn me as she was growing up that once she hit puberty she'd be a nightmare. I never had problems with this one. She was an angel growing up, even through puberty. I always said that Heavenly Father put her into my life because I needed sanity. When she was growing up, there was a lot going on in my life. I could count on her to be happy, loving, cheerful, helpful, and a wonderful listening ear. Even now, she is my best friend. Not to say that my boys aren't. She's a girl so she "gets" me. Having two older brothers and one younger brother, this girl was no girly-girl. She didn't wear dresses to school until she was a senior in high school. Now she's all girl and it's wonderful. She's in the process of figuring out her life. Ironically it coincides with me figuring out mine so we're learning from each other  Because of this we are growing up together. She lives up in Washington now so a five hour Skype conversation is not unheard of. She's a photographer and, just like her father, has the voice of an angel. 

     My youngest is 21. He's been with me through trial and tribulation and he's still here. He's moved with me from our home that we lived in until the divorce, to a three bedroom apartment in a nearby town, to a two bedroom apartment in another state, to a one bedroom apartment where he slept in the dining room, to finally our rental house in SLC. He has stood by my side through divorce and then abusive boyfriend. He's a talented bike builder, musician, and all around great kid. I got him a job where I work at the hotel but his personality kept it. He works hard and relaxes well. He's followed homeless people in search of stolen bikes, taken bike trips that left his mother gritting her teeth, delivered leftover bread in the park for the homeless, and made me laugh more often than not. I can honestly say that I would be lost without all of my children's support. They're beyond what I ever expected I would have had when I thought I wanted to be a mom. I have been truly blessed by all of them. 

     I started blogging about four years ago with some blurb about alone time when my (ex) husband went on a camping trip with my youngest. This blog was never supposed to be more than an electronic diary. Just a place to put down my thoughts. Someone I knew had started a blog about their family experiences and I thought it would be fun. When I went to Italy for the first time in 2012, it became the place to keep my memories of my trip.  Somewhere in the last year, even the last few months, it has exploded into a way for me to find myself, and now to help others who have the same thoughts and experiences as I do. I want to help my friends, my children, and anyone who might come across my words. I am here to make the world a little better place to be. If I help anyone along the way, I have done exactly what I set out to do. There is no real organization here. If I want to write about work one day and school the next, I'm going to. It's a place for me to clear my head. I see this as a place to put my thoughts, adventures, fears, experiences, musings, gripings, creativity, sarcasm, and love. If the universe picks it up and passes it along, perfect. I chose the title "Fearless Over Fifty" because I want others to understand that they can be fearless at any age. They can accomplish whatever they set out to do. They are limitless. There are no walls keeping us from being who we truly want to be. I see myself as limitless. I have wings to fly. I am fearless.

      

     

Flipping That Switch (or How to Make Your Heart Stop Hurting)

      I have a switch. You probably have one also. I discovered that switch after my marriage fell apart. It really appeared when I begged my husband to take me back one last time. I had asked him two other times before that (I guess it only takes three times for me to get the hint), wanting him to take me away from Port Orchard and my problems and the dumb situation I had gotten myself into. I knew that if he took me away, even for a couple of weeks, everything would be better.  Our marriage would be back on track. We'd survive another 22 years and beyond. I told him I'd do anything he wanted if he would come back to me. I remember sitting on the phone late one night, crying to his answering machine begging him to come home, praying to Heavenly Father that he would. I texted him over and over again that night, waiting for his reply. I'm sure I knew what the answer would be but it was still devastating when he texted me back in the morning, "I'm sorry. I have promised my heart to Jennifer. We have promised each other that we will never hurt each other. Heavenly Father loves you and forgives you." BAM Just like that. 

     The second time was when he showed up at my father's funeral. I didn't want him there. He had no personal relationship with my dad. I hadn't told him the details of the funeral and neither had his children. He got the information from one of my nieces. Why he wanted to be there, I had no idea. I hadn't cried when my dad died. It's not because I was happy that he'd died. It was because my dad had suffered with dementia for probably ten years and it was his time. He was at peace. But when my husband arrived uninvited to the funeral, I cried. I thought he was there for me. I hugged him, told him I loved him. His words? "I will always love you." BAM He wasn't there for me. He was there to make an appearance. To look good to my family. The switch started to flip that day. It was halfway there. Two weeks later he filed for divorce. 

     The final trigger that flipped the switch was when I called my husband about a misunderstanding regarding a ticket I had received (dumb Tacoma Narrows Bridge). Suddenly I found myself telling him that it was a mistake. He said, "What is?" "The divorce, the whole thing, it's a mistake." Then he said, "You want to settle out of court?" BAM  "No. I don't want a divorce." Dead silence And then the switch flipped for the first time. We were done and I knew it. I wasn't going to beg him anymore. I loved that man but I was not going to beg him to love me back. 22 years was gone. He was in love with someone else. Our marriage no longer existed. All he cared about was settling out of court. It was another year before the divorce was finally over. I never settled, by the way. Switch Flipped. 

     The Switch for me is something in my head. It's the armor I put on to protect my heart. It's my survival skill. It's self-preservation. Call it whatever you will. It helps me to stop crying. Stop being depressed or blue or whatever. Stop thinking about whatever is upsetting me. It helps me to move on. It helps me to be strong. It's not as easy as it sounds, though. I may go through a day or two of sadness and loss but I finally just stand up, shake it off, and move the freak on. I have to consciously remind myself that the switch has been flipped. I tell myself that I am too important to continue to let myself be hurt. I deserve better. Whatever mantra works at that moment. I say it until I'm "cured" of that hurt. 

     One of my favorite Switch Flippers is a visual tossing of whatever has upset me. I put whatever thought or love or hurt into a tiny virtual box, pack it up tightly with virtual string and virtual brown paper, say goodbye to whomever it is I have placed into the box, and throw it away. I usually do it epically, like over a bridge or off of a cliff. Something so huge, I can never get that little brown paper package back. Kind of like burning the love letters or pictures of someone you want to forget. Right up there with dancing around a bonfire to cleanse your spirit. I recently had a picture of me and someone I had cared about for a really long time. That picture was important to me and, even though it was small enough to fit in my wallet, it meant everything to me. It symbolized a great time spent together when I thought there was a future for us. I brought it along with me on this last trip up to Washington, knowing full well it was probably going to be the end of a possible future with this person, and I was ready to release my heart from it. Driving back from Washington, once I had Flipped the Switch and realized that this person could no longer have control over my heart, soul, or mind, I literally tossed that picture out of my sunroof and watched it float onto the freeway behind me. I was crossing over the bridge that divides Washington from Oregon. To me it was fitting to leave those thoughts and hurts behind, never to be thought of or be hurt again. I loved that person but our relationship together was toxic. He was toxic. I deserved better. I love how the symbolism of leaving our "relationship" behind in Washington worked so cleanly. I laughed as I released the photo. I said goodbye.  It served its purpose. Weight lifted. Happiness found. Switch Flipped. 

    I perfected the Switch over the last year. Crazy ex-boyfriend was a huge contributor the the strengthening of the Switch. You can only go through so much abuse, anger, verbal and mental beatings, suspicion, and defending yourself, etc,  before your defense mechanism kicks in. When you reach that last straw, you know, the one that breaks the camel's back. The one that says "I am done taking this." The final straw was over two weeks ago. Friendship gone. Door shut. Switch flipped. Peace. 

     And I've had other moments of Flipping the Switch. Whenever I want to move on from someone or something quickly. Generally thinking, "It wasn't meant to be," works extremely well. Or analyzing what wasn't good about the relationship or experience helps me break it down into quicker reasons to Flip the Switch. I have learned that I am more important and deserve better than whatever is upsetting me or hurting me. 

     Over the last four years, and especially the last year of self-discovery, I have learned to love myself and see that whatever drama or anger or sadness or depression or stress, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera, that slams into my heart, soul, mind, and body, is not what I want or deserve. I deserve to be happy. I deserve to love and be loved. I deserve everything my little heart desires. We are placed on this earth to be happy. To live epic lives of loving, making ourselves happy and of course, making others happy in the process. We cannot love others if we do not first love ourselves. 

     Flip the Switch, my friends. We deserve better than what we have been accepting into our lives. I am a warrior of love and light against those negative and toxic forces that seek to drag me down into their personal darkness. Join me. Let us make this world a better place. I don't know about you but I have an adorable little grandson who deserves to be as happy as he can be the rest of his life. Let's do this. Switch Flipped.

What I Miss About My Ex-Husband (it's a short list)

   
     ....other than the intimacy which, when it happened, was amazing, I miss the deep relationship connection you get with a committed spouse or significant other. Yes, we had our problems. OBVIOUSLY. We aren't married anymore. But, there was a part of my marriage that is seriously lacking in my life right now.
     From the moment we met, we had a connection. It was in Palm Springs, California, at the Single Adult Conference, 1989.  I had decided at the last minute to go after being inactive from the church for about two years. Call it inspiration. I don't know. But I went. Okay fine, back story: After not going to church for about two years, I decided to go and ended up meeting my new roommate (a girl) and a bunch of twenty-something guys that ended up being more brothers than anything else. I was sitting in a meeting at church shortly after one of the "brothers" insisted I go to the Single Adult Conference contemplating whether or not I should actually go. I had just started a new job, moved into a new apartment, short on cash, didn't know anyone, etc. I had plenty of excuses to not go but, as I sat in that meeting trying to decide, a little voice in my head said, "You might meet your husband there." Crap. I'm pretty sure in my head I even said the word "CRAP." So, I went. I got a ride with one of my "brothers" and we headed up after work Friday night. When we arrived, there was registration and assigning you to cabins. I just remember thinking that there was no one there that I would even date. I started wondering why I was even there.
     The next morning we all gathered for a devotional. The musical number was sung by this guy. He was overweight and dressed strangely (it was the 80's after all, but he seemed to have no sense of fashion, mixing several different styles all at once) and seemed to think that he was pretty funny. I didn't think much of him...until he opened his mouth and sang. Even now, 25 years later I remember the feeling I experienced when he sang. Even now, it makes me cry (or maybe I'm just tired, hungry, and extremely stressed). I always loved telling this story. You know, "The Story of How We Met." Best story. EVER. You know in the movies when the two lovers meet for the first time and the rest of the room goes dark except the two lovers, and the light practically beams down on just the two of them? It was kind of like that. It was just me staring at him singing, knowing that the song he was singing was just for me. It was called "The Test" by Janice Kapp Perry.


The Test 

Tell me friend, why are you blind?
Why doesn't he who worked the miracles
send light into your eyes
Tell me friend if you understand.
Why doesn't he with power to raise the dead just make
you whole again?
It would be so easy for him.
I watch you and in sorrow question why.
Then you my friend in perfect faith reply.

Didn't he say he sent us to be tested?
Didn't he say the way would not be sure?
But didn't he say that we could live with him
Forever more, well and whole,
If we but patiently endure?
After the trial we would be blessed
But this life is the test.

Tell me friend, I see your pain.
Why when you pray in faith for healing does the
crippling thorn remain?
Help me see if you understand.
Why doesn't he who heal the lame man
come with healing in his wings?
It would be so easy for him.
I watch you and in sorrow question why
Then you my friend in perfect faith reply

Didn't he say he sent us to be tested?
Didn't he say the way would not be sure?
But didn't he say that we could live with him
Forever more, well and whole,
If we but patiently endure?
After the trial
We would be blessed.
But this life is the test.

Tell me love why must you die?
Why must your loved ones stand with empty arms and ask
the question why?
Help me know so I can go on.
How when your love in faith sustain me,
Can the precious gift be gone?
From the depths of sorrow I cry.
Though pangs of grief within my soul arise,
The whisperings of the spirit still my cries.

Didn't he say he sent us to be tested?
Didn't he say the way would not be sure?
But didn't he say we could live with him
Forever more, well and whole,
If we but patiently endure?
After the trial we would be blessed.
But this life is the test.


       After the song ended, the world went back to normal and it was me sitting with everyone else. I wiped the tears from my eyes and tried to focus on the rest of the meeting. After it was over, I found the soloist and told him that I loved the song and how it made me cry. He just thanked me. That was it. No epic connection, just "thanks." I didn't think much more about it and went to spend the afternoon out by the pool....and there he was. What happened in between the moment he showed up at the pool with his roommate and the actual moment we started talking does not matter. We talked non-stop the rest of the day. That night he kissed me on the cheek and practically ran away and I thought I'd never see him again. The next day he was right back again. He ended up calling me every day, left notes on my apartment door, showed up at random times to see me (even seeing me without makeup and he still came back), and a month later we were engaged. We had that instant connection and I felt like I'd spent my whole life looking for him. Once I found him, I was done searching. We were inseparable from that moment until...until the end of the marriage 20 years later, I guess.

     My point being, because I always have a point, is that I miss that connection. That person you can always count on. You can comfortably sit in front of the TV, or reading together in bed and never say a word, and it's okay. You've had a bad day and that other person is there to make the day better. You always have them to talk to. Even when you have an argument, it's not the end of the world. You know they're always going to be there. They see all of your flaws and love you anyway. They see your wake-up-in-the-morning face and they still come back every night to wake up with you again. There is that trust that you know they love you and they'll be there when you need them, or even when you don't need them. They are there through bills, crying babies, sickness, dog poo, burnt dinners, speeding tickets, bad gas, bad breath, and weight gain. Even when you are tired and can barely kiss them goodnight, they keep coming back. Unconditional love. Holding hands as you sit in a movie, walk down the street, watch TV. (By the way, the most personal connection between two people is holding hands.)  Laughing over jokes only you know. Talking about "stuff." Being there for each other. That's what I miss. You can't find that easily anymore. I've been on too many first dates lately and, as far as I can tell, it could possibly be a long while before I find that connection again. Yes, marriage and relationships are tough but being alone is much, much worse.

     You could sense from this blog that I miss my husband. Here's the thing, I LOVED my husband. I miss the connection that we had. BUT, the man I loved for twenty years is long gone. The man he has become is unrecognizable. Will I find a connection like that again? I believe so. Other people have it. Why wouldn't I? Did I give up that opportunity when my marriage ended? Not a chance. 

Let us lighten the mood a little bit, shall we?

     I just submitted my first story for my Creative Writing class tonight. We were supposed to find a picture, painting, or drawing and write a poem, short story, dialogue, or essay about the picture. The first picture that popped into my mind when I was reading about the assignment was Birth of Venus by Botticelli. I remember seeing this painting in person for the first time when I was in Florence, Italy, and the emotions it evoked. I'm pretty sure I cried a little. If you can look past the nakedness of the woman and really pay attention to the art of it, I think you'll love it as much as I do. The story itself is probably really juvenile but I kind of like it. Don't judge me. I'm new at this creative writing stuff. 

     She was cold. The sky was blue with not a cloud in the sky, but the soft breeze that blew across her naked body gave her a chill. She was not even sure how she got there. She just knew she was naked and cold, yet she was not afraid. This experience was all new to her because she did not recall experiencing anything like this before. In fact, she could not remember experiencing anything at all before this. Her mind was a clean slate.

     She stood upon a strange vessel that was sailing smoothly across a body of water, propelled by some unknown force. Her long strawberry blonde hair floated around her face softly; tickling her nose just enough to cause a slight itch but it did not disturb her peaceful demeanor. She merely brushed the wayward strand away from her face and focused on the water around her. She did not feel off-balance even though the platform was small. The edges curved up towards her and there did not seem to be a smooth, flat area for her to stand, yet she stood steadily upon it. As she sailed silently across the water, she began to take in her surroundings. Turning slowly to face behind her she saw that there was nothing crossing to the horizon, as far as her eye could see. The water was a deep shade of turquoise blue and she was unable to see the aquatic life that moved below her yet she somehow knew that it was there.

     The sun continued to warm her face as she turned back around to face what loomed ahead of her.  She could see that she was nearing the shore of a beach surrounded by luscious green foliage, the sand a warm shade of gold. As the water became shallower, the colored changed to a light shade of pale blue-green and then to her right she noticed a subtle movement. Floating just inches above the water was a winged figure carrying a woman in its arms. Blowing softly upon her, the figure was the breeze that carried the woman and her vessel steadily to the shore.  

     Having someone suddenly so near to her, the woman realized she was no longer alone and became embarrassed by her own nakedness. Not having any source of clothing nearby, she awkwardly covered herself with her hands and her long flowing hair. “Who are you,” she asked the winged man. “My purpose is only to make sure you arrive safely on the shore,” he answered.  It was then that she noticed the redheaded woman standing on the beach as though she had been waiting there all along just for her to arrive. Beautifully scented flowers began to magically trail slowly down from the sky as the nude woman arrived at the beach. As she was about to step off of her floating platform onto the beach the redheaded woman stepped forward to meet her, covering her nakedness with a beautiful red cloak and speaking to her softly said, “Welcome home Venus, Goddess of Love and Beauty. Come this way with me.”

Addendum to last post

***Addendum** (Updated October 7th)
     Said stalker seems to think that this whole thing has not affected me at all. I lost my friend. This was someone who has been in my life for four years. He's been involved in every facet of my life. I didn't just let go of four years of abuse. I lost someone who was important to me for four years, practically my whole life, even throughout the crap he put me through. Had he not been important to me, I would have walked away the first time he ever picked a fight with me over religion. Told me my birthday was just another day of the week. Picked a fight on Christmas. Got mad at me because I didn't need him to leave work early because I had cut my foot. Or the time he got mad because I didn't need to wake him up when I went to the ER with heart issues. I would have walked away the first time he kicked in the cabinet doors in our bathroom. Or kicked a hole in the bedroom door. Or shoved me into the wall hard enough to leave an indent in the sheet rock and a bruise so big on my arm that I had to wear long sleeves in the summer. Or sent me nasty emails and text messages when I was at work. Or decided at the last minute he wasn't going to help me with a school presentation he promised he'd help me with so that I got a zero for my grade. Or shoved me to the ground in the parking garage at work so that I slammed my head into the cement. (This was the first time I filed a police report.) By this time I had been dating him for 2 1/2 years. 
     Let us not forget June of 2013 when he got mad because he didn't think I was paying enough attention to him while he was out of town. And when he assumed I was picking him up from the airport (when he had never actually asked me if I would), and I couldn't because I had an appointment, he lost his ever loving mind. It was midnight on my birthday and suddenly I'm receiving alerts from Amazon, my bank account, my email addresses, my cell phone account, and Netflix all telling me that someone has logged into my accounts and is making changes. He locked me out of Amazon and ordered an iPad mini plus the supplies that go with it all using my debit card on file. (I need to add here that Amazon is really amazing at fixing stuff like this almost immediately. The order was canceled/no money lost). He locked me out of Netflix and attempted to order gift cards using my debit card on file. (Thank you Netflix for being so diligent in getting everything switched back to normal). He even changed the language on Netflix to Spanish...because I can speak Spanish? Nope. (He really should have been more creative and changed the language to Chinese) He attempted to hack into my bank account but he didn't know the password so his attempt failed, thankfully, and I received an immediate notification. He even went so far as to create a new Facebook account in my name and friend request me. Seriously, I was friend requested...by me. Luckily he was crazy enough to use my email address to start it and I began to get those emails also. He hacked into my email addresses and began reading my emails looking for something suspicious. As all of this was happening, I was frantically chasing after him online changing everything back and changing every single password into something he could never even guess. Then he sent me messages admitting he had done it all. I spent the next two days in a police station filing a report against him, trying to get an order of protection against him. They wouldn't do it. He wasn't violent enough. Don't they know that this is how women are killed by their spouses, boyfriends, etc? Not violent enough? How violent does he have to be before it is enough? 
     And yet, even then, I did not learn. I should have walked away right then and there and never looked back. 
     He has packed up his belongings and threatened to leave so many times, it was more packing than he did when we actually moved. He continuously threatened to take things away from me that he gave me because to him "THINGS" were more important than a human. Than the heart of the woman he supposedly loved. His way of controlling things. In his mind. When I could FINALLY walk away and stand on my own two feet, even THEN I never felt safe. 
     And now, even though I have told him to stop contacting me or my family or my friends, or even ex-friends, or I would contact the police, he STILL CONTACTS ME. Even after his Bishop tells him to stop contacting me twice in twenty-four hours, he still does it. He creates a fake profile on POF with a fake picture, fake description, fake name, fake age and starts a conversation with me pretending to be a nice guy. And thinks it is okay. Does anyone else see a problem with this? Is he for REAL? 
     And, the thing is, I have NEVER mentioned his name in any post, whether here or on Facebook. Because I don't want to cause OTHERS to look at him badly. Only those in my family and those closest friends even know who I am talking about. Does he do the same for me?
      I lost my movie buddy, my Comic Con buddy, my sushi buddy, my Walking Dead buddy. I lost someone I could talk to about anything. If I was upset about something, he was the first person I called because I knew he'd be there. I lost SO MUCH MORE than he thinks I realize. I lost my best friend. And more. 
                     But I need to remember all of this so I don't do it again.
     Why did I stay? I couldn't tell you. Nor can any woman involved in an abusive relationship. I think it's because I am not sure I don't deserve it. I've spent the last year trying to fix not just four years of abuse, but a lifetime of abuse from practically every male influence in my life. SO, when the ex-boyfriend tells me all of my relationship failures are my fault, why not believe him? He would tell me that the common denominator in my failed relationships was me. It must be true. Why should I deserve a loving, honest, sweet man? WHY SHOULD I?  We attract what we feel we deserve. When he tells me that any issues my children have is my fault, why shouldn't I believe him? I've spent the last year trying to change that mindset. Yet, one blow-up from him brings everything rushing back. Every old story that was written for me, but not by me. It must all be true. Just when I think I have healed and worked towards seeing the light inside of me, he reminds me that I must be garbage. It must be true.
     And that is why I must walk away for the last time. It's survival. He will never change. I'm sure even now he believes I will let him back into my life and forgive him. Again. It is not going to happen. EVER. Because he will never change. There will always be something I am doing wrong. The eggshells will continue to be laid out before me, waiting for me to walk on them. I have told him a million times over that if he was sweet all of the time, because when he is sweet he is amazing, I would marry him. When he is good to me, he is wonderful. But Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde dance around me so often that I cannot exist in that same space with them. He will not and cannot promise me he won't hurt me, and he has told me that many times. And I have told him that I need that promise. He will not change because he does not see that there is a problem. He continues to blame me for his behavior. So, if I am to survive any longer I must walk away for the last time. When my family and friends tell me they fear for my life, it's time. 
     There is a commercial running right now during football regarding domestic violence and rape. I've never been a victim of rape but, because of my life with the crazy ex-boyfriend, I am an authority on domestic violence.

http://youtu.be/I6zKqx5srts

     Dear Ex-Boyfriend, seek help. I know you are reading this. Read it again and again until you understand. Before you start a new relationship. Before you damage another love. Before you hurt one more love. Before you help bring life into this world and pass on what you have been taught that causes you to be this horrible person, seek help. Stop the abuse now. I know you can be a really wonderful man. If I know that, someone else will also. But, before you seek the love and attention that you crave so desperately, seek help. I am sorry that you feel you can only be in this type of relationship. That, after watching the abusive relationship your parents have, you think it must be the only way to love. Stop the abuse now, before it's too late. 
     

Have I Learned My Lesson This Time? (Please do not read if you don't want to hear me vent, or get doused with drama)

    A little over a year ago I posted here that I had a stalker. It wasn't a proud moment in my life but I felt like it needed to be made public in an effort to get the blackness of it out of my head, and to help others who may also have gotten themselves into this situation.  Well, I'm back in this situation again. The really stupid part of it all is that it is the exact same person it was last time.
     After said stalker put me through the ringer in June 2013, I decided that it was best to forgive the anxiety they had caused me and let them back into my life. I am a nice person. I don't like enemies and I don't like anyone to be mad at me or view me in a bad light. This person had been in my life for three years prior to the stalking post of June 2013, and having them as a "friend" seemed like an easy thing to do, BUT I never totally trusted this person and always kept them at arm's length. When you've been in an abusive relationship with someone, you never totally trust them. Always waiting for the bomb to drop again. That's what I've been doing for the last year. Just waiting.
     The trigger for him this time was really ridiculous.  I wasn't spending enough time with him as far as he was concerned. We were FRIENDS. How much time are you supposed to spend with friends? Are you supposed to text them all day every day? If you don't answer a text within at least twenty minutes, does that mean you are ignoring them? Because, heaven forbid you might actually be busy and unable to text back. Are you supposed to see them more than once a week? Are there actual FRIEND RULES? I didn't think there were. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I don't really know how to be a friend. Maybe I've been doing it wrong my entire life. He felt I wasn't initiating text conversations. I wasn't talking to him all day every day. He accused me of lying by omission. (What was I omitting?) He is always happier if he can accuse me of lying. Either way, in his eyes I have violated the terms and conditions of the Friend Rules. Because of this, he has initiated full on bullying and threatening. It began with an email. Then another email. I responded to the first email - why I felt a need to defend myself for something I wasn't even doing, I don't know. Once again, I thought it would do some good. I began to ignore the next two emails because I knew it wouldn't do me any good to respond. When he gets worked up and starts accusing me, I have no defense. Nothing I can say will matter. He won't listen. You cannot reason with a mad dog.
     If he senses a change in the force - i.e. I begin to make subtle changes to my life - it must be because I am doing something wrong. Something behind his back. Isn't the point of life to continuously improve who you are? In the last year, I have attended two self-help seminars to do just that. My stalker went to one of those seminars with me. I invited him in an effort to help him be a happier person. Did he learn anything? I'm going to assume that it's a big giant NO.  I've lost 12 pounds in the last four months. Must be doing it because I'm seeing someone. Could it be that I was tired of feeling exhausted and unhealthy? When I started posting "selfies" on FB, he asked me who was taking the pictures. Seriously? SELFIE. By the way, he's been blocked on my FB since I labeled him my stalker a year ago. The guy now has THREE FB profiles. When he sent me a message on FB this morning, I discovered the third profile and blocked it also.  That was the only way he was able to see my updated profile selfies. He would save them on his phone and text them to me, asking me who took them. Even as I type this, I realize how really stupid it is on my part to even have remained friends with him after the incident last June 2013. What the heck was I thinking?
     And it's not like we haven't had small incidents of his temper flare-ups in the last year, or even in the past four years of our relationship, because we have. This is not the first time. He did really well for a while but they started up again a couple of months ago. He began panicking because he realized I might be moving away. THEN what control will be have over my life? I had him house-sit my dog (and my house) while I was home for a family reunion. WHY! Because I needed someone to watch my dog. He and I were friends. I thought I could trust him to do it. WRONG. He went through my drawers. He went through my closet. The day after I got back home, he proceeded to ask me questions about things he had found that he thought were questionable.  I had to defend myself, which is ridiculous!! It's MY HOUSE with MY STUFF. I owe no explanation!  He wrote me a huge lecturing letter and hid it in my drawer. Then he started sending me text messages asking probing questions. I'd had enough. I made him meet me in a park and I lectured him (like a little kid) until he listened to me and apologized. I thought it was over. Then there was the concert he took me to in August. He bought me tickets to Paul McCartney for my birthday. Could it have just been an enjoyable night? Nope. It turned into him accusing me of things again while we stood in line for the concert. The same things I thought we had already gotten passed. I finally had enough and walked right out of the line. He followed me, apologized (for twenty minutes-he doesn't know how to be concise), and we ended up being twenty minutes late for the concert. It's been quiet for a couple of months. Until two days ago. And then it began all over again.
     This guy never talks to your face about things that are important. I have experienced and lived through four years of accusational text messages, emails, and letters. Seriously. No matter how many times I told him I wouldn't talk about anything serious if it wasn't face to face, he keeps going back to his old habits. He can't talk about anything serious to my face because he knows that I can defend myself better in an argument if it is face to face (I have been told by two different legal people, including my ex-husband's lawyer, that I would make a great lawyer. I stick to the facts.). In an email or text he thinks he has control.  I. Keep. Every. Written. Word. This is to my benefit that he does this.  I have it all on record. Then he began contacting old friends, posting his version of my blog on his third Facebook page (where he tagged me, posted blatant lies about our relationship and who I am), tried to contact me on Facetime late last night, threatened me, called me and left angry messages, etc because I refused to respond to his original accusations three days ago. 
      And the thing about having friends that become your enemies: They have just enough personal information about you that they feel they have ammunition against you. They are bullies. So, suddenly my past becomes fodder to destroy who I am now. Two divorces? Must be my fault. Former boyfriends? They left me. I am the problem. Or, OR, I've just made bad choices, or attracted the wrong people into my life. We attract what we think we deserve. Either way, the past is the past, not the present. This person lives in the past and worries about the future. He never lives in the moment.
      In his mind, I've had multiple relationships in the last four years when instead I have had only one, and it was him.  Now he publicly claims that we have been dating the entire time since March of 2013 when he moved out. We have not. I have not had a relationship of any kind since March of 2013. My dating experience began a few months ago. When he and I were FRIENDS.
     Here is what could have prevented this whole mess from happening, (besides never speaking to him originally. EVER):  Four days ago, had he just come to me as a mature adult and told me of his concerns instead of accusing me of things that never happened, this whole mess never would have happened. Had he listened to what I had to say and trusted that I was not lying, this would never have happened. He knew that I would not respond to emails or texts that were serious in nature, yet when I refused to respond, it caused him to escalate into bullying and threats. Then he told me this was all my fault BECAUSE I didn't respond to emails (that he knew I would never respond to anyway). Accusations, arguing, and bullying are not acceptable in ANY relationship, friendship or love. 
     I have reached a point in my life where I NEED happiness, I NEED fun, I NEED to live stress free, I NEED to love and be loved. Call it self-preservation or whatever. My children are demanding that I discontinue any further contact with this person, and have been demanding it for at least four years, friendship or not. It is all lost. Four years of anger, bullying, accusations, character defamation have all reached the end. It was not enough to love this person, be concerned for their well-being, encourage them, see them for who they COULD be. I could never live up to their expectations of how they felt our relationship SHOULD be.  What I could give was never enough. He wanted more. Admittedly obsessed with me, yet I could never be enough. Have I learned my lesson? After four years I believe I finally have.