Perception

I confess. I hate Facebook (FB). Yet, I check it 20 friggin’ times a day. All these people and their happy lives with their happy kids and their happy vacations, it’s hard not to compare your own life with what you see on the newsfeeds. “That should be me at the restaurant; that should be me wearing that new outfit; that should be me at the beach; that should be me announcing I’m pregnant; that should be me buying a home.” But none of those are me because of the situation I married into, not knowing that in a year of marriage we’d be faced with legal and financial issues that would be beyond our control for years to come. Part of me feels cheated and resentful that my life didn’t go in the direction I had dreamed it would go, and part of me knows life isn’t fare and those things I dreamed of were maybe not meant for me to have. It makes me sad. How could it not? So if I sound bitter, then yeah, maybe I am. So instead of me posting about vacations, houses, babies and the like, I get to post about my cat. Listen, if I have to sit there and look at pics of your kids clogging my newsfeed every time I check my FB then you can do me the same favor and look at my cat and act like you like it, damn it!

I’m guilty of it, comparing my life to those happy robots on FB. I mean seriously, how can anybody be that damn happy all the time? I shouldn’t compare myself but it’s easy to fall into that way of thinking. Most of the time people inspire me on FB and other times they depress me. I have to remind myself that all we see on FB is one side…the happy boastful side. We don’t see the screaming kids, the fights, the messy homes, the moms pulling their hair out. Our “perception” is that the Joneses have it all together because they’re not showing their “moments of shame”. Pull that curtain back further and then the whole story becomes more colorful and true. Everyone has drama in their life, some are better at not showing it…unlike me. FB asks “How do you feel?” Really? Someone out there really gives a hoot how I feel? Can I be honest? WELL I’M EFFING MISERABLE because I’m mourning the life that I won’t have and try to forget about but constantly get REMINDED of it thanks to the ‘happy people’ on FB!” (Sigh...) Well, as a Stepmom dealing with constant Parental Alienation, I find it a bit difficult to keep from posting about the hell I’m dealing with at that moment. It seems like FB is a perfect outlet to voice how I feel, right? But I quickly find out that no, you can’t post anything like that on there or else you get looked down upon, judged, and ridiculed. But I post my 5 minutes of shame anyway and my husband finds out, gives me that look of disapproval, and I feel remorse. I don’t want to be one of those people who “air out their dirty laundry”. But, GUILTY! So, I soon follow it with the press of a button and it’s gone… and I’m left wondering who all witnessed my moment of weakness.

No, I’m not a drama queen. I’m just not good at hiding my feelings. I don’t think of myself as a loose cannon, despite what you might think right now. I can only hold in so much before I break. Even the strong people need their moment to cry. I sometimes wish I was the kind of person I used to be, more controlled and unexpressive. When I turned 23 that all changed. For years I’d keep my mouth shut and smile no matter how many daggers flew at me. I “just took it” and didn’t bother with confrontation. I figured if people wronged me then somehow I must have deserved it. I later learned I didn’t deserve it; I just let people manipulate me. Keeping it all buried eventually turned into anxiety. But these days as an adult, I find that as a professional I have to work hard at keeping that poise and silence I once had. When dealing with my personal life, however, I’m a bit more unreserved. When I moved away from home to the big city I figured out quickly I didn’t have to take that crap lying down. I’m free to think and do as I feel and no one has control over me but me and my own conscience. I don’t mean I think I’m free to run naked and wild through the Wal-Mart. It means I’m free to make my own decisions as an adult, be accountable to myself, voice my own opinions without worry of someone getting pissed off and giving me the silent treatment, and not have to answer to people who don’t have my best interest at heart anymore. I used to keep things wrapped up inside and later learned after all my heart health issues that it wasn’t healthy to do that. And in order to have a healthy marriage I’m supposed to communicate. So I’ve mastered the art of talking about it. Thank goodness I married my best friend. (Poor guy.)

It’s funny how our memories can lie to us. We subconsciously choose to remember certain things and forget the others. And most times what we remember becomes glorified into being something it really wasn’t… but we “want” to believe it. For example, after returning from my Stepmom conference this summer, I immediately got off the plane and drove up to attend a family get-together. The discussion about “Perception” was still marinating in my mind. I’m having a conversation with my stepsister and she suddenly brings up something that happened many years ago that I find still rubs me a bit raw. How she remembers it is not how I remember it. Her perception is that she was “helping” me. It’s funny because that’s not at all how I recall it. She had an agenda and succeeded, as she did many times before. I was humiliated and made to look bad, and to make a long story short, she got what she wanted because I didn’t know how to defend myself and refused to get down on her level. As uncomfortable as I was listening to her talk about her “helping” me back then, I kept my mouth shut. The word “Perception” rang loud and clear in my head and all I could tell myself is this is how she chooses to remember that incident. Fine, I’ll give her that one for now, but I know the truth. I choose to let it go because I love her, regardless…. I choose to forgive, but forget is not something I can do.

So, what does any of this have to do with me being a Stepmom? Not really a damn thing. I just wanted to blog about “perception”.

Control Freak

I reread my last post and the first thought that came to mind is damn, I sound like a whiney little b*tch. But, anyone who doesn’t know my whole story really won’t understand where all of that comes from. As time goes on, I will share what led me to such a paranoid state and whiney disposition. It’s actually quite mind blowing believe it or not. Most stepmoms who read it won’t be all that surprised. I think some of it will still be considered as pretty extreme and just might make you appreciate your situation a little bit. I’m not saying my situation was worse than anyone else’s but I bet I have some shock factor in there that will make you shake your head a few times.

I’m the kind of person who likes to be in control…of my money and my life. I like STABILITY. I don’t like surprises. I struggle with giving God the reigns to guide my life and find myself grabbing them and getting my hands slapped. Even He would tell you “She’s a stubborn one!” I need to do better with that and I work on it every day. I HAVE gotten better. When things are not stable, like money for instance, I am a worry wart. I worry about every damn thing. It’s like I can’t turn it off. I’ve prayed, meditated, exercised, drank myself into a bolivian… It’s a bad habit of mine…worrying I mean…not drinking. Well….

After our first year of marriage, we had talked about having a child. But we got sucker punched when BM made false allegations against my husband claiming abuse to their daughter. At that moment, my life spiraled out of control. All the lawyers, court sessions, social workers, doctors…I swear BM has a crystal ball and uses black magic to try to destroy us. I laugh when I say that because I can picture her sitting there on her “jobless & lazy-by-choice butt” hovering over a ball chomping on Cheetos and Little Debbie cakes chanting evil things. Okay, so Im’ exaggerating but really, she probably sits on the couch watching Lifetime and creates the drama to implement day after day.

Her lies were meant to hurt us, which they did, and separate us, which they did not. We struggled financially for years because of her horrible lies. We’ve had cars repo’ed, we’ve come home to no power, no gas to get to work, no money to get prescriptions and no food. All our money went to people who we had to pay because of the allegations. Nothing was stable, so of course I freaked out, loud and often. My anxiety and blood pressure levels have been to the extreme and I have been so low in a deep dark depression I honestly didn’t think I would come out of it. Although I will explain my entire story, I will not be doing so today. That is an area of myself I keep in a place deep inside me and it will take a lot of Jesus and Bourbon for me to rehash it all. Another day, perhaps...I’m out of Bourbon.

Those Happy People...Uhg.

So there I am… walking into my husband’s family’s get-together and everyone is happy, laughing, passing babies around, hugging each other and there is nothing but LOVE all up in that place.

And then there’s me.

I immediately feel a sense of unworthiness and an overwhelming feeling of not being able to leave my BabyMomaDrama at home. Oh why does it follow me EVERYWHERE??? The pressure I put on myself before arriving there always brings out the negative feelings and doubts of “what I’m not.” I’m not in the mood for this; I’m not able to blow off my issues to act happy to be there. I’m not a mom. I don’t have anything in common with these people. My life is nothing like theirs. I’m stressed, tired, resentful, and I don’t want to be around happy people when I’m ….not happy. If that black cloud would just go away maybe…just maybe I could appear to be more “happy” to be there and mean it. Sometimes I sit there and wish that just once, just once I would like someone to acknowledge what I’ve given up; what I’ve sacrificed; what I deal with on a weekly basis and say “Wow, I don’t know how you do it. We are so lucky you are in SD and DH’s (my husband) life. Here, hold my baby.” Okay, so maybe I’m asking for the equivalent of a unicorn but I’ll explain the “Here, hold my baby” in just a moment.

I’m not fake. I’m definitely not an actress. So pushing that smile out and onto my face is like trying to force a crap while constipated. Oh…there it is! I did it. Now maybe no one knows this is killing me. Oh…but then someone walks right up and hugs me. Damn! These people hug a lot. Ready or not it’s show time. “Oh, hi! It’s so good to see you. I love your hair. Have you lost weight? Love that dresssss!” This is how southern people greet you and make small talk.

So anyway, like a player on Call of Duty, I immediately scour the perimeter for an empty seat. Found it! I sit down. I look around and see babies. Babies every-damn-where. Uhg! Why can’t I get excited about them? But hey wait a minute, why are their mothers not handing them to me? Do they think I don’t like babies? Or do they think I’m not interested? Oh no, what have I done? Quick…have I given anyone the impression I don’t like kids? Surely not… Oh wait. I don’t have any kids so maybe they think I don’t know what I’m doing if they hand me their babies... PARANOID? Um yes. Over the years of BM mocking me saying I “play house” when her daughter is with us, that I don’t know what I’m doing when I have helped SD with things or when I do her hair. BM even laughs at the clothes I buy her. She has made comments that I am not a parent so I don’t know what I’m doing. These things stuck in my head for so long. Do I believe those things? No. But I let it hurt my self-esteem somehow. And now it shows around my husband’s family. Or at least I think it does. Don’t get me wrong. I do love my husband’s family. They are precious people and I wouldn’t trade them for anything. I just have issues that I need to deal with and they have nothing to do with how those issues got there. I have to find a way to set aside the BabyMamaDrama and be a part of the family. And no one is going to let me hold their baby if I don’t “grow a set” and ask.

No longer a Blogger virgin

Finally! I figured out how to work this blog. It only took me an hour. And here I thought I was techy! So this is my first blog EVER! And never did I think it would be based on being a StepMom. But here I am. I'm looking forward to spilling my guts since society thinks I should keep my mouth shut, be a wall-flower and deal with the world with a smile on my face. I don't plan to blog about all the negatives in my life but I have numerous concerns, thoughts, questions, ideas, and moments of weakness to divulge. I also want to write about happy moments, successes and plans to improve myself or situation. Being a stepparent isn't the lifestyle I thought I'd ever have and after being in this position for the last 6 or 7 years it has taught me a lot about myself. I haven't solved this stepmomhood puzzle and by no means do I claim to have any answers that are one size fits all, but I think I will touch on areas that you can relate to as a stepparent and find comfort knowing you are not alone.

Me in a nutshell. I'm a Christian (but I struggle with a few cuss words from time to time), I'm married to a wonderful man, I have no children, I'm a professional business woman, I have a 9 year old StepDaughter we see EOW and due to all the PAS tactics and craziness I seriously don't know that I want children. That is where I am.