The beginning

Bear with me... This is a new arena for me and my ramblings. Usually they just clutter up my mind and keep me from sleeping most nights. So now I will clutter the page and maybe free up some space to be able to rest for awhile.

Shall we dance? 

As I begin this journey of self recognition, defining, reshaping and growing to be a better me. I will need to unpack some of this baggage that I have been carrying for the last 52 years. The baggage that has weighed on my soul for far to long. My journey thus far has had more tears than needed, more downs than ups, more what the fuck moments that leave you spinning in the dirt, and more pulling myself back up moments than the average soul. The last part of the statement is what I do, I get up. Everyday, all day long. No I am not dirt poor, sickly, beaten down, self loathing, homeless, jobless or pitied. Just a survivor for today. So I suppose the best part is to start at the beginning of my journey to me and to why I decided to write. No the beginning wasn't my birth, although trying to get into this world earlier than most was how I entered, 6 weeks premature, but a whopping 5lbs 6oz. Yep a survivable weight for preemie born in the 60's. Nope all was well when I was born. World at war, unrest, music revolution, changing, growing nation. Me a free spirit was born, and quickly caged. Oh to say I had wonderful parents would be a fairy-tale. Now yes they clothed, they fed me, they sent me to school. Success on their parts. What they did not do was love unconditionally, support emotionally, believe in me, or strive to help their daughter grow into a successful human being. No, they set out to make my early existence painfully memorable. Belts, switches, hands, and words were the weapons of choice. How does one grow when you are punished for being a female, opinionated, strong willed, open eyed. How does one grow when you are made to feel as if it's all your fault, and told so many times, for the troubles in their lives. Told you are stupid, fat, ugly, useless, going to be a failure, addict, and never amount to anything. All the while you are responsible for watching the younger siblings, that well get the better of their attentions. The 1st boy with the bright blue eyes, intellect, the apple of his mother's eyes. The 2nd daughter with curls, perfect little nose and smile, beautiful to behold, more quiet than the first one. Then later would come the beautiful blonde, blue eyed daughter that would shine for both parents, hope for their future. With lastly the demon seed youngest son, who the father poured his hopes into. All born innocent, but yet all suffered in their own rights, especially after I left, but for 21 years I took the brunt of the anger. I took the responsibility, I shielded them for as long as I could. Then I ran, not wisely, but I escaped, well for bit.......I ran to the arms of a person who didn't ask for anything of me, but to be me. That was refreshing. He loved me for who I was, and always did. What I did not know at the time was that I was an enabler. Of course I was, child of an alcoholic father, and disconnected mother, who wouldn't be, and I suppose I still am,  just now more aware of it. However being this as a person was just another reason this man I ran away to loved me, and needed me, all because of my enabling ways. (Hind sight is great isn't) Anyway, my future husband, was a long haired, music loving, partying loving, less than hard worker that could touch me like no one before or since. I was hooked. I know now that he was a way out, and would also fail me over 27 years, but did help set me on the course of where I am now. In all fairness I failed him too by allowing him to lie, steal, use, and ultimately die...but that's jumping a head of the story... Anyway Bob did try to balance me and my painful parents. They hated him, he was never going to amount to anything they said, you will be dragged down with him, come crawling home on welfare dragging your 7 kids behind you, strung out on drugs and alcohol.... Yep loving in-laws, loving parents. I worked at trying to create a normal life with him, hard to do when you are a 21 year old female, living at his mother's house with the rest of his family, who I grew to love and call my own. They had their own horror story and painful existence, part of the reason for Bob's personal demons. It's amazing how we magnets of despair attract each other, hmmm. At the time I moved in he was between jobs, so I went to work at a local hair salon and life began. I was happy then with being "in love" or actually in the idea of possibly being "in love". No harsh words were said to me, no painful lashing of hand or belt, no threat of violence existed. Bob never struck me, ever by hand or mouth. His lying actions later wounded my psyche, creating a huge trust issue that has left a large gap in my soul, a non-healing scar, but less painful than the others... We married in 86, January 28, familiar day? May not be, but we said "I do" two hours after the space shuttle blew up. I should of known. I paid for the court marriage and our rings. My mom and my Aunt Sharon Kay were there. My mom said she had see it to believe it, my Aunt was there because she loved me. She brought my bouquet, my mom brought her disdain in disguise of "I'm here for you".....Life went on......We tried to move out on our own in the late 80's, he was working pretty steady I was now in a very productive salon, and well he convinced me that we needed a child. While working on that, which was never a dull process between us, I continued to deal with my wonderful parents. Tried too. We'd go see them from time to time, but after each visit I'd be an emotional wreak. Failure was stamped on my forehead, self loathing was a common everyday waking feeling. Bob never said anything to me about them, except for you are beautiful, smart and so much more than what they will ever see so "fuck them", and then go about his business of the day. About that time my parents moved to Texas, so that was a blessing to my emotional well being. I'd still call them almost every Sunday just to try and talk to my mom. Me reaching out to them, the calls from them were always few and usually never. Except for the drunk calls at all hours of the night. Crying about how I let him down, how I failed at not launching myself into a singing career, how I hurt them all. Yeah, still hear them in my head. Bob would take the phone from me, no holding me, comforting me or lecturing me about not answering the phone. He didn't talk much, never did, he didn't touch much either, I suppose only when he needed it. We were opposites, but he did balance me for awhile....... 

Ahhhh the joy of becoming parents. He was elated, I was "I can't do this" at 12 weeks pregnant. I sat straight up one night and simply yelled that out. He, simply woke up, and said "It's a little to late for that thought" and went back to sleep, easily. He could always easily sleep anywhere, anytime, I envied him for that, still do....... So of course after that out burst I continued on to my new journey of becoming a mom, well the role of it in a pregnant woman's mind. It was a typical pregnancy, you know sick the whole time, but you work through it. I was happy about it, loved the feeling, the insights that grew. My parent's were again not happy about it. I mean come on they were in their early 40's still with little kids and a teenager at home, working, they were to young to be grandparents, what was I doing to them, how was I going to support a child when we could barely support each other, you'll be begging to move in with us and put a drain on our life when this all goes south. Ahhhh the joy's....In December of 87, 2 days after Christmas, I pushed into this world at 3:14 AM a beautiful son. Immediate love and the feeling of I will always protect you, love you, and be there for you. Nurture that came first and foremost. Bob was elated, victory sign to everyone, he had a son... Left me sleeping, and the next night he celebrated in his usual fashion, drinks, drugs and friends. It snowed that day, he was sledding down a street in Dumfries, VA with his best friend and chosen brother, his greatest love. I became a mother and now became the responsible adult for all of us. Not long after my first son was born, Bob lost job his job and we had to move back in with his mom. Again life went on. Three years later I'd get pregnant again, my choice, my need this time. Bob and I used to joke that I'd leave him if he ever became bald or lost all his teeth, and he me if I got up over 200 pounds... with the exception of me being pregnant..Silly us! My daughter was born in the summer of 90, she had to be cut out of me. She had her left arm up over her head trying to stop from coming into this world the normal way, my daughter. She seemed sad to be here, crying to be heard all the time, she was colicky and always wanted to be held. Bob gravitated to his daughter, she was his little girl. She was a beautiful baby, dimples, blonde hair, blue eyes and the best smile, when happy. She loved her daddy so. When she was a baby she was sick a lot. No fault of hers, fault lay in the surrounding environment. Smokers, causing irritation to her delicate sinus passageways, building fluid up, and creating a ripe environment for infection. My poor baby girl. In pain most of the time, first tubes as a toddler, ruptured ear drum as well, and eventually some hearing loss. Her dad was like, she's just like me, he had suffered hearing loss as well from ruptured ear drum from when he was a child. Anyway, because these life issues, I lost my job as a manager for a hair salon, had to take to much time off. Bob again was hit or miss with working. He also at this time was running around with a new bunch of friends, drinking nightly, and well now I know doing way too many drugs. He got arrested for DWI, again. I was called by one of his drunk buddies to let me know at 3AM, so I could go bail him out. Freezing cold outside, me shaking from so much anger, had to bundle my babies up and go pick up their dad. He as always had one story or another for what happened. He never got his license back ever. Again I could hear my parents words calling out my future, I suppose it was around this time I started thinking about going back to school. I had always wanted to be a nurse, but the only way I could have went to college right out of high school was if I joined the military because my parents said no. However that was not going happen, because I did my time as an army brat and had enough of yes sir and control. Anyway I bit the bullet and asked my parents for help. They did, they came and got me and the kids and brought us to Texas. Bob was to join later, this was because he got arrested 3 days before we were to leave, yep they came 3 officers to the house and cuffed him right there in front of his kids.. Good thing for them to see, and my last vision of him in VA. I drove away in Feb of 93, hoping to come back to VA someday, but ultimately fate had other ideas....... 

The ride to Texas was no way fun for me and my kids. My dad made them feel scared, where they had always been free spirited happy kids, they were now to be handled. The only up side was that I love Texas, and it was like coming home. Now I was reminded by looks and feelings from my parents, of my mothers foretelling of me moving back in with them with my kids, minus 5 more, since it was always me and my 7 kids, minus me strung out on drugs and alcohol, and at the time minus me being on welfare. I know it was not a good thing to happen, to my parents, to me, to my precious children or to my siblings. We disrupted their lives, and am guilty for being the one to "ruin" those years for them. The kids and I set up living in one room in my parents house. Small room for eventually 4 people. Bob left VA to follow his family, but I think it was also a way for him to escape the law. He jumped bail, I did not know this at the time, blinders I suppose. He tried to work but without a license to drive or to be journeyman plumber here in TX it was a bit hard. He had to much time on his hands, to many items available to pawn, and way to easy drugs to obtain. Me, I went to school, got my oldest into kindergarten and Chelsea, my daughter, into pre-school. My parents did help with everything financially for the kids, the fed them, clothed them and housed them. I was able to get grants for school and started my ADN journey. An "A" student for the most part. Amazing considering all that was happening. The fighting, the lying, and the ugliness of life surrounded our everyday existence. Around December of 94 I went back to church, briefly, with the kids, got Bob to go. He and Cody were saved together and baptized, I thought this is it, our lives are going to turn around, through Gods grace. I was to start nursing school in January of 95. I could see that light at the end of the tunnel, our way out to being a happy, normal, productive, safe family. But then everything fell apart. Things came up missing at my parents house, money came up missing. Fights, accusations and Bob was asked to move out. He left with his clothes in a trash bag and was out on the streets,  now homeless in the December cold. I was left to manage the kids before Christmas and shelter them from the wrath of my parents and siblings. My last fist fight was with my dad at 32, I had, had enough of being called a bitch and worthless bringer of badness to their lives. Never again was I struck after that, nor will ever allow anyone that close without striking the last blow, or they killing me. I digress, at the time, I went on public assistance, so that I could contribute, to pay for Chelsea's day care and to obtain medical/dental care for my kids. So the welfare part finally came to fruition. Onward and upward I marched through Nursing school, managing my kids and trying to comfort Bob while homeless out on the streets. He worked day labor and paid for daily room at one of the bunk houses. Drugs and alcohol and other homeless men were his new life outside the short glimpses of his family. Guilt it's a bitch. I started working at UHS in Dec of 95, became a Med tech, best thing I ever did. Got my foot in the door and will always be grateful to Elizabeth Wilson for the chance. Summer of 96, graduating in July gate opened again to my tunnel leading to my way out with my kids, light getting brighter again. I was hopeful. Bob around this time started losing weight, had a cough. At first I thought it's because he's not eating regularly, and his cough was because he smoked to much. Then the fevers from time to time, became concerning. When I graduated a friend from school asked me to house sit for a couple of weeks, she thought this would be a great way to get my kids and their dad together for awhile. Bob was happy to have a moment off the hot July streets and I was happy to have  chance to feel like we were a family. That's when I really saw how much weight he had lost, how sick he really had become. I took him to a random clinic, they diagnosed him with Bronchitis, gave him some meds and sent him on his way. Two weeks went by, we laughed, we cried, we lived and tried. He went back to the streets and took the kids back to my parents, however we were hopeful. I was about to start my first job as a graduate nurse, the future was looking up. Chelsea would be starting kindergarten and Cody second grade, and in no time we would all be living in the same place, are own apartment. Yep everything seemed like it was falling into perfect place. I started my first day of orientation at UHS on the 9th floor General Medicine near the end of July of 96. Day of excitement and beginnings. Yeah beginnings and endings. Around 1:45 PM they rolled a patient up to the 9th floor isolation hall, my husband.........

The beginning of the end happened in August of 96 when Bob was diagnosed with HIV/AIDS, TB had ravaged his body and took his weight from his usual 180 to 118, sunken eyes, and skeletal appearance to his 6 foot frame. Hep C was the least of his worries or mine.. Immediately I had to get us all tested for TB, that was difficult for Chelsea, took 4 people to hold her down to get a PPd placed, that she got from me. Thankfully we were all negative. Then came me getting tested for HIV, all the while I had to study for my boards. I took my NCLEX that month and I got the news of passing my boards the same day I got news that I was HIV negative, my first of many negatives. Bob kept saying he had not used any IV drugs since 1985, meaning I was exposed for over 10 years if he was correct. I'll never know the truth of where or when he truly became infected, and I suppose it doesn't matter now. Just grateful that I am negative to this day. Anyway...With the knowledge of me being HIV negative, I could at least spare my children from any more testing. Blessing truly it was. Bob was sent to the Texas Department for Infectious Diseases, basically the chest hospital. He was to have to be treated for a year, for he had disseminated TB. His treatment of his HIV was limited also at this time. In October of 96, HIV cocktails were introduced, a bright promising new treatments were becoming available, and people with AIDs were responding and some were getting better. However still many were dying. Bob obtained disability from the government, every penny helped, he obtained it fast secondary to how ill and close to death he was. When Bob was diagnosed I was told get his affairs in order, he will not make it past 6 months. Try getting your kids prepared at that age, it was difficult. How I was I to know it was just the beginning of preparing for his eventual death. Life as we began to know it continued. I was finally able to move out of my parents house in January of 97, and move Bob out of the chest hospital at that time. He was frail, still deathly under weight, but we had him home with us, he was off the streets, he was safe. After he moved in he was afraid to be near me, afraid I'd get sick, that's when he started sleeping on the couch, he was more comfortable there, hurt less too. My bed would remain empty for the most part for the rest of our married life. 6 months came and went and Bob lived, says it was the kids and me that kept him alive. I continued on working and still being the responsible adult as always. In the summer of 97 Bob started on the cocktail, and within months his viral load was undetectable, he could of been the poster boy for taking HIV meds and what they could do, he began gaining more weight, getting more energy back, while dealing with the side effects of the meds. He led himself believe that he was cured. Was able to get a job with a moving company and started talking about the future. He was going to go back to school, get his GED and get his journeyman's license, and be the man I wanted him to be.. Pipe dreams they really cloud things don't they.......He started drinking again, going out, and eventually I am sure used again. He also was not as compliant with his meds, which I did not know at the time, but I found out when my gut instinct kept at me. But of course when asked he'd say adamantly, I am taking them. He went to see his mom in 98, and while he was away, I found my bank account with multiple withdrawals, little deposits, and things missing. He came back, I did not pick him up from airport, it was raining, I had went over to a colleagues house the night before. Drank way to many whiskeys, and was way to mad at Bob. So I did not meet him at the airport, so he was angry at me when he charged into the apartment. Lesson learned don't piss off a woman hung over. I let fly with a lot of things, a lot of pent up frustrations, I was tired of holding it all in for the sake of family.  So I confronted him, and when I confronted him about missing things, missing money, meds still being unrefilled, he as usual denied it all. I had, had enough, I asked him to leave. We stayed separated for about 6 months, he went and lived in some friends garage. I took my new separated self and sought comfort in the arms of another, temporary, unfulfilling, and well a waste of time. Although I needed it however to prove to myself, at the time, I could be attractive and desired by others, but it was an empty feeling really. The kids started missing their dad, sad that he was living in a garage and so I gave in and we reconciled. Again promises made, I'll change my ways, I'll stop drinking, I'll not take any money, I'll not pawn anything, blah, blah, blah....Blinders up, and life goes on. We decided we would buy a house, get out of the apartment, and forward foolishly I went. August of 2000 we moved into my current home, poorly built but it was ours and out of an apartment we went. Bob was working with a commercial plumbing company at this time, and I was beginning to get things in line to start back to school. Bought a new truck that went with the new car we had already gotten. Bob was healthy, going regularly to his doctor, was on new meds for his HIV, responding again remarkably well, drinking less and no drugs. We were closer as couple and as a family. Dog, cats, house, vehicles, jobs, yep life was looking up....In 2004 I was accepted to UT for my ADN to MSN with FNP program. I was ecstatic...Then Bob burst the bubble. He had lost his job, maxed out my credit cards, hid the statements, my bank statements as well, and went back to his old ways. I ended up losing my truck, but not my place at UT. I refused to not start school. I worked full time, school full time, provided for this family full time, and felt empty full time. In November of 2004 by mishap or miracle I became pregnant. Who is the father Bob asked, my mom asked, my friends asked. Everyone knows I was a safety girl, and yet here I was pregnant. Of course Bob was the father, and he knew it, and was immediately afraid for me and our unborn child. Afraid I was infected, and by the grace of God I wasn't. My mother could not understand how I would stay pregnant at the age of 41, how could I do this, embarrass them. She who had her last child at 39, whatever. I was elated, I loved this pregnancy, and this little boy more than life, way before he was born. Connor was born on July 27, 2005, another c-section, Bob again was captured by a tiny new heart. He seemed to change overnight with the need to take care of this tiny human. He gave his all for him. He tried to be the dad to Connor that he wasn't to Cody and Chelsea. He became the stay at home dad, took care of the house, the kids, and me. All was right in the world, I continued on with school and work and providing the funds for our daily existence. Like I said life was better, I finished school in summer of 2008 and started working with UT for Neurosurgery as an FNP in October of that year, yep I had finally made it to my professional goal. We were finally at a place where we were talking about what we would do for our silver anniversary coming up in a few years, what we planned for vacations and doing to the house, yep brightness to the road of happiness was shining again. Then two years later in October of 2010, darkness came again, I had to withdraw life support from the man that I had ran too 27 years ealier, the easiest thing to do, but the hardest to live with today. The last 5 years of Bob's life he gave to us, and the only one that gave him unconditional love in return, was Connor. For he would not ever know of the father that lied, stole, drank to much, did drugs, was arrested, was homeless, no he would not. He knew a man that loved him with all his heart. For Cody, Chelsea and myself we did forgive, we held on to the pain and always wondered when he was going to hurt us again with his lies. Sad thing to hold onto, when you think about it now. Bob told me two weeks before he died that my life would will be so much better without him, financially and emotionally, that Cody and Chelsea don't need him, and with Connor starting school he wouldn't need him as much either. I think he knew the end was near, I wish I did..He'd sing "you better kiss me, because you're going to miss me when I'm gone", and even with everything he put us through, the pain, the lies, the loss of trust, I do. I miss him as much today as I do the day I kissed his forehead goodbye and ran my fingers through his beautiful hair one last time, on that bright blue October morning. For with him gone, so was my balance at keeping all those old fears from my past at bay..To much noise in my head sometimes.. So much more has happened to me since his death. Breast cancer, yeah that I can handle, being a single mom, yeah I got that, life goes on. You keep breathing in and breathing out, standing upright, always moving forward.... Ahhhh finally to why I am starting this blogging journey, to free me...

Shall we continue to dance?