Peace out 2017

This year kicked my ass, but if I’m being honest, I feel like I kicked it’s ass in return. 

Here I am, alone on New Year’s Eve, sitting in bed at 10pm getting ready to go to sleep. I’m thinking about all the things that happened this year.  This year kicked my ass, but if I’m being honest, I feel like I kicked it’s ass in return.

It kicked my ass.

  1. My stress levels are through the roof, I don’t sleep much
  2. I went to court 3 times for divorce hearings
  3. I finally got divorced on Dec 27th (judge signed the papers and all)
  4. I have a low self-image view.
  5. I’ve been battling depression all year
  6. My son began having developmental delays

I kicked it’s ass

  1. I took and completed 8 graduate courses and got A’s in every single one of them
  2. I got divorced
  3. I elimated toxic products from my life
  4. I work out 3 times a week
  5. I have a better relationship with food (minus this holiday season)
  6. I survived
  7. My kids survived
  8. My son is kicking his delays in the butt. He is working hard.

Overall I feel like the working out has helped me psychologically cope with all the stress. I still struggle though. For example today, I asked my ex to not take the kids to a certain place (cause GERMS). They have been sick since Thanksgiving and I really want them to be better by the time they go back to school. He lied to me. I lost it. It’s stupid, and I am still fuming about it. I hope that one day I will be able to let these things roll off, and I have to remember that once a liar always a liar. He is not going to change. He took them there against my urging him not to, and this was after he switched his time cause he had “new year eve’s” plans. I had plans to be married and not living with my parents at the age of 31. Kids change things and you have to adjust.  I know I need to give myself time, and I need to continue working on forgiving him. I’m scared I’ll never get there. I will be this bitter old woman who held onto hurt and abuse her whole life, and never allowed herself to be happy again, punishing myself for making such a poor choice in a partner.

So what I am hoping for in 2018

  1. Workout 4 times a week or more. Move intentionally everyday
  2. yell less at my kids
  3. cope/deal with my crazy ex husband better
  4. Pass the NCE and begin work as a LPC
  5. Continue my self-care journey
  6. play more music

June sucks

The month of June is a hard month for me. Well- actually it all starts at the end of May. It was never a bad month- until 2015. Then it became a bad month. I had a 13month old and I was 7 months pregnant with twins. See, around the time my life began *obviously* falling apart (it was long before, but shhhh that’s a secret) things happened on significant dates. My husband overdosed for the first time on one of my closest friend’s birthday. She spent her whole birthday with my 13 month old, and her husband spent the day with me and my husband. I stayed with her that night because well…it wasn’t safe for me to go home. High husband…threatening to leave the hospital…police were there…I had been attacked by my husband in the waiting room of the ER. I didn’t get hurt-kudos to my friend’s hubs for helping in that stressful situation.  A week after that day it was my husband’s birthday. He got high on PCP or a designer drug similar and with my limited knowledge of drugs and what high people look like; ignorance was bliss- I hid my husbands car keys and gun, and went and slept on the floor in front of our daughter’s room. Just in case whatever craziness he had going on was going to effect my kid. Don’t mess with Mama Bear. The next day I told him and showed him the videos. He thought it was funny. I made him go clear out his office. He told me he was making “supplements”. No sir, you are making drugs (this revelation came months later when I start researching the ingredients of his supplements). Fast forward a week or so- he is planning on going on a trip with a bunch of guys from high school/college for a bachelor party. I ask him not to go. I need help. I’m seriously pregnant with twins. He says he deserves a vacation. whoopdie freakin do. I don’t need a vacation? I digress.  So he is gone over my birthday. Mind you- the previous year he forgot my birthday, June 20. He really needed to not miss this one, considering we had only been married a little less than 2 years. Anyway guess what happened. He forgot. I couldn’t get a hold of him, I couldn’t even get a hold of him the next day. I ended up calling the hotel and tracking him down. His phone had gone mysteriously missing at some venue (found out it was a place called lipstixxx several months later- it sucks when a hooker steals your phone) I go to the airport to pick him up. He’s not there. I wait for 3 hrs. I take my baby home, and leave her with my brother and sister-in-law (who luckily lived with us and got to witness this phase of life in all it’s glory). I go back to the airport, and while I am searching for answers, a big pregnant-PANICKING-woman in the airport I get a call from the police that my husband had a seizure on the airplane at was taken to a hospital. I go to the hospital. My brother comes too (he got to ride in a police car going 100MPH. jealous.) So I go to the hospital and they won’t tell me what’s wrong. He seized for 4 days in the ICU. No one will tell me what’s going on. I finally find out he has told them they can’t. I found out at discharge, when I told him I wasn’t taking him home otherwise that he had high amounts of METH and PCP in his system. We go home and I tell him that if he ever does drugs again he can’t live with us. His seizure happened on June 21, my mother’s birthday- the day I realized the previous overdose wasn’t just an accident, and that he probably was high on his birthday when I didn’t know what was going on and slept outside my daughter’s room. Yall.  HE DIDN’T STOP. HE DIDN’T ASK FOR HELP. EVERYONE TOLD HIM TO GET HELP, OFFERED HELP. I didn’t know he was still doing drugs, I thought all the things that continued to happen (I.e. picking his skin off) were residual effects from the seizure. My uncle called it. He told my parents that he thought my husband was on drugs. See I hadn’t told anyone besides my friends who stepped in and rescued me earlier in the month. Our wedding anniversary is June 29. June 29, 2015 I tried to celebrate, but really I realized I was in over my head. I needed to tell people we needed help. We started counseling. I’ll leave it there. Maybe next post I’ll rehash July of 2015.

This is why the month of June is hard for me. June of 2015 sucked. Now when it’s June, we start the month off remembering his first overdose, then it’s his birthday, Father’s day (which come on- I have a great dad, but my kids don’t so I feel conflicted about this day), my birthday, mom’s birthday (2nd overdose anniversary), and then our wedding anniversary.  Last year on June 29th I was sitting in a lawyers office asking to file for divorce (still not divorced- being married to a lawyer sucks). This year would have been 4 years. June sucks. I’m not feeling sorry for myself. I’m just overwhelmed by emotion at this point in my life, and in June they all come flooding back like a force to be reckoned with. Divorce is the last thing I ever wanted. It really hurts. Hurts SO much. It was a hard decision, and I’ve had to mourn the life I’m not gonna have, but I have these three magical little people who need me to move on and dream of the life the 4 of us are gonna have. That’s what they deserve. but June still sucks.


This is my baby June of 2015. Her smile and fluffy toddler hair make me smile.


I’ve spent a lot of my life being who I thought someone would want me to. That someone could be my parents, brothers, friends, boyfriend, husband, teacher, you name the person, I had an idea of who they wanted me to be, and I would try my best to be that person. Do you know what that does to a person? In the midst of utter chaos, it will leave you lost.

It’s not any of those people’s fault. I am the person who wanted to please. I am the one who wanted to be perfect and be everything to everyone. The truth is, I am replaceable in many areas of life. When I left my job after having Clara, REPLACED, when I quit playing piano at church, REPLACED, ect… do you see where I’m going? In most areas of your life, there is going to be someone to pick up the slack, whether they are worse at it than you, or better than you. My experience is they are usually better than me and then I have to come up with some reason why that person is more successful than me.  I never realized this about myself before. I knew I wanted people to like me. I thought everyone felt that way, so obviously I was normal and just like everyone else.

Fast forward to me sitting in counseling and telling my therapist about all the problems with my peoples.

He says “Who is taking care of Kim?”

This may come as a surprise, but he asked me this pretty much every time I came to see him. I didn’t know that he could see it, but he knew. I was lost. I was physically ok, but otherwise I was lost. There was chaos swirling around me, I couldn’t see the ground, and I had spent my entire marriage trying to be the person my husband wanted me to be, that when it all came crashing down, I was lost. I had 3 kids under 3. I got that, change diapers, feed people, don’t cry in front of them, be a good mom. So I was mom. I wasn’t wife anymore. I had spent the past 3-4 years trying to be exactly what this man wanted me to be, and now I didn’t know what to do. I was lost. Barely treading water. Who was I? Who was Kim? When he asked me “Who is taking care of Kim?” I think he might have also been asking “Who is Kim?”

Honestly. I am still figuring parts of it out. There are constants. Things that are intrinsic that have gotten stronger, and taken more root. That is my faith in Christ. There is no way I would be able to even stand up or be alive through all this without Him. He has been my Rock. The Lord has blessed me immeasurably through friendships, he’s humbled me, he has shown me how much he loves me through all the mess. He has answered so many prayers. He has asked me to reach out and ask people for prayer (I felt so uncomfortable doing it, and then He answered my prayer!). I can’t say enough that I know God is real, and that He loves me, and that He has big plans for my kids, cause He got them here in a big hurry.   My family. They have stood by me, and been there for me. We have only gotten stronger. My besties. They have seen me in my worst. The worst. I’ve said mean things shown them just plain ugly sides of myself, and they have shown me nothing but grace, love, and support. I can say that my foundations are really strong. If you don’t have a strong foundation, you need to get one.

The things I want and need to figure out about myself are things that I always did for other people that I should have been doing for myself. I am gonna do the things I wanted to do before I decided to be who my husband wanted me to be. I love being a mom. I love those crazy little monsters. But, what kind of example am I setting for them, if I don’t show them that you get to have a life and be your own person? I don’t have to be nothing else and just be mom. That isn’t my identity. I need to be me. I can dye my hair purple and have sleeve tats, and at the same time be a good mom too. I’m pretty sure purple hair and sleeve tats is not this gal right here, but you get my point. I have however already dyed my hair rose gold, and the next round I think it will be a little more pink than this round! What is my style? What do I want to be when I grow up (I know, I’m 30, but give me a break people!)? What’s on my bucket list? What do I want? NOT What does the other person want. WHAT DO I WANT? I’m not trying to be selfish. I’m trying to decide. That’s not wrong. I’m just gonna do me.  I know. Most people did this when they went to college at 18. I’m a little late to the game. I want to go to dinner with my friends, and I want a life that is not just about kids, or spouses. I want to have interests and things that don’t just revolve around other people. Is that too much to ask? I need to find myself. I need to get unlost.