#ihaveseenworse

[veannaleethings-blog]

I was telling a story.

I was telling a story this morning, a story that, had not been forgotten, but one that needed to be remembered. I needed it in the forefront of my mind to remind myself, that unless it is death indeed, I will survive it.  I was speaking with a woman I work with about the year a chain supermarket had opened in our area. I had not realized it had been here that long. Not unusual really, as during it’s first few years open, I lived on the opposite end of town, and had no reason to ever venture as far north as it’s location. I had no clue it was even here. I didn’t find it particularly odd that I had no clue it was there, due to having lived where I lived, and more so how I lived. Not only was I, and am still, a bit reclusive, but at the time of it’s opening I was at a precipice, teetering on the edge life, as I knew life to be. Boy oh boy, did I ever fall over the edge. This of course is where the real story begins.  It was winter of 2011 and while it was not particularly wicked that year, the trappings of life were indeed cruel.  My husband and I had divorced just before Thanksgiving and I was working 40 hours a week comfortably at a job that I knew well. My son was in Kindergarten and everything was okay, I mean it was a new trying to get used to our home without Kevin there but we did alright. We loved one another, had fun, and most of all we were getting by. All of that changed of course, when I lost my job.  Losing my job made the quickly approaching winter feel much colder, stretch longer, and it made me appreciate the once indigenous lives of the human species, but that wasn’t until later. This winter was a shifty winter, and one I will never forget.  Not long after the snow began to fall both depression and worry took over completely.  They had set in some time before that, when the leaves were turning, but they really consumed me by mid December.  I still had no job, and of course this was the height of our “recession” here in the states, and for a normally working, single mother of a half day kindergartner, this was terrifying. All of the social service programs that I was once familiar with, had changed, and the limited benefits played a huge factor in the types of work I could accept as after school or during school care was crucial.  Needless to say, none of it worked out, at least not in the way that I was expecting. Sometimes I would ace an interview and then when negotiating a start date, potential employers would shutter when I explained my availability, my child’s school hours, my lack of child care and needing a lunch break at a certain time....yadda yadda yadda.... eventually concluding the interview with me walking out discouraged and having to start all over.  I grew tiresome of all this and began any side work I could find. I washed windows for local store fronts in the freezing ice and snow for cash or goods, or I would offer cleaning services to homeowners, barber shops, you name it. If it had a price, I would do it. I had a pretty good rhythm for a week or two and I was feeling a little more hopeful because between the public assistance I was receiving, my mothers unemployment checks, and the bartering/cash work gig I had sustained, I was able to survive and break even at 0 dollars but alive. (sounds pretty bad right? That’s because it was.) Having to accept my mothers unemployment checks as a way to pay rent was probably the most humiliating thing I had felt, until I found out I was pregnant. I was pregnant and had to make a choice, but first, I had choose which potential father I was going to tell first. (It doesn't get better from here, so if you are absolutely disgusted I suggest you stop reading now, and find some uplifting adventure for an alternative.) This was not the child of my recent ex husband, this was a child conceived out of pure desperation and it was either...(we will call them) Jay, or Brad’s.. No, these are not their real names, but for privacy sake, this is what we will call them.  Jay was no longer in the state. Hell, the morning after we did what we did, I drove him to the airport and he boarded the plane with his one way ticket to a place much more sunny than here.  Brad at the time of this discovery, was in rehab.  I had met up with 4 days after having taken Jay to the airport, indulged in large amounts of wine together and did what we stupidly did. I say stupid because I knew he was using heroin at the time.  You see Brad was my ex from several years before and his heroin use was what broke us up the first time around. As if that had changed, but I wasn’t trying to spend my life with him, I just wanted that one night. I even took the Plan B pill (one step) TWICE in an effort to make sure there were no accidents.  Turns out there was accidents. Either way, I was with child, in the middle of the biggest storm I had experienced in my life up until that point.  Not only was I terrified, but worse than that I was ashamed.  I didn’t want to have another abortion...that’s right, another one...because I have had several, so if you are here in this story now, just remember I invited you to stop reading before it got worse.  Well, okay then, lets return to the story, because this is where I was about midway down the free fall.  So, it’s now halfway through January of the new year, the sun is shining brighter on the cold winter ice, spring is around the corner and I am a few weeks pregnant, no job, and feeling like I was days away from  homeless with an unreasonably happy kindergartner in tow. My knight in shining armor! Of course, if he knew how atrocious his mother was he may have changed his mind, but goddammit if were weren't a fucking team!   Still are actually, and while I still make my share of stupid mistakes, none of them are as risky as they once were. Anyway, I digress, I had no idea what to do.  Everything was culminating to what led up to my fleeing, a literal running away. My mother and I were at odds, not something new, but during that time it wasn’t something I could deal with, so I got my tax return and took a mini vacation. During that mini vacation, what seemed to be a silver lining presented itself to me. Of course it came with heavy consequence, but when I hit the ground everything was beautiful.  After vacation I came back and was here for 3 weeks, long enough to get my finances in order, do what I could to help out with what was about to be my absence. Of course being the fearful daughter I already was, I did not utter a single word of my plan to my seemingly overbearing mother.  I simply did what I needed to do, in complete silence.  On a cold February morning, still pregnant, and intent on keeping the child, I dropped my son off at school and had about 5 hours to get my shit together and be ready to leave that afternoon. I went home, packed the necessities that fit into my car, paid an extra month’s worth of rent I had saved from my tax return, paid it, and picked up my son. I took him back to the house, told him to pack a few of favorite toys, because we were going on an adventure. I can’t imagine the damage that may have caused him, or how terrifying that was; something I have also come to terms with, but the choice that I made ultimately brought me to where I am today, and I have no idea what would have happened had we stayed, but I can certainly say without a doubt, that I do not regret the choice that I made by leaving.  We made our way to the Oregon coast and settled in. Of course my silver lining was actually the plan of a swindler who ended up draining me of all the money I did have saved, running up my credit card, and totaling my car, but things turned out okay.  I moved down, terminated my pregnancy shortly after realizing the situation was not ideal for me and my already living offspring and there was no way I would make it with an infant added to the equation. Yet again on the brink of homelessness, after all my money was gone and in a rental car, I packed up in garbage sacks again, everything I had brought with me, 3 months in I had a choice. I could head back north or try to make it down there. I had a job after all, I just didn't know anyone outside the person that took me for my money, with the exception of a girl I met through him. I wasn't sure I could trust anyone down there and I certainly couldn't afford another low blow. I was at the bottom of the free fall about to slam into the ground. So with 324 dollars and my shit in a rental car, I packed up yet again, and went to say goodbye to the only other person I had ever met down there on the dreary bay, and upon my arrival to her home, all packed up, she invited my son and I to stay for dinner. After deliberating with her live in lop of a boyfriend, they decided that I was welcome to crash at their place, and they would make sure my son was okay through the night when I was away at work. It took me all of 8 days to get my shit sorted and find a place. Just over a week of what I thought was the blackest of black I had ever seen, and I was on my way to much lighter experiences. I was able to scrimp and save, got a bit of a refund from the auto body shop and collectively, with my paycheck, it was enough to get my apartment.  It was a dream, life is but a dream, but it was a dream come true.  I smile now even because while the chapter of darkness closed, what came next are the moments of my life that I cherish most. I will never forget my life at the Rose. Obviously I have trailed way off course, it happens all the time, but going back to the beginning,  I needed to remember all of this, because while I might be a little uncomfortable now, going through this little transition, I need to remember what I have survived, what I made it through, and what it took me to realize my own strength. I needn’t be ashamed of any of the choices I have made, and frankly societal constructs that say I do, can fuck right off. My children are happy, and yes I say children, because I have since had a daughter and she is lovely, my son is a pre-teen now and entering middle school,  and whatever I do have, I am grateful for, because I have had less.  

[whitenotblack-blog]

I’ve seen better days with less pain. But that doesn’t mean I’m not blessed. BlackNotWhite.com #inspirationalquotes #inspire #blessed #ihaveseenworse #lifeisbeautiful

[whitenotblack-blog]

Don’t ruin a good day because of a bad yesterday - just let it go BlackNotWhite.com #inspirationalquotes #inspiration #ihaveseenworse #everyday