my dad.

prepare yourself. i’m about to rant.

The man I refer to as ‘Dad’ is not my biological father but the father that stepped in, adopted & raised me.

not once in that sentence did I say he was a wonderful, loving, kind father. he was harsh. many times verbally & emotionally abusive. but I am thankful he adopted me- having a dad is better than not having one, right? but now, i come back to today: & my leg (fresh with stitches still) is aching. I bumped into something earlier and immediately heard in my head “well, yeah- that’s what you get. it should hurt- you’re the dummy that did it.” and today, may 29, 2019 i finally realized that the voice i so frequently hear in my head putting me down isn’t my own but is none other than my dad. i want him to be different. i want him to be loving. and kind. and an engaged grandparent. but he’s not. narcissists can’t really help it. but what i really want to say is ‘eff you. all i wanted was a daddy. and you were an asshole instead.’ BUT, i’m gonna put on my big girl panties and just say what i need to say here. and right now i just need to move on. && accept what is done & what cannot be changed. one thing’s for sure though- i’m DONE hearing his negative voice in my head. i’m a grown ass adult, dang it. and i’ll hear what i want to hear!

&& love always, Aimee

Looking back.. (TRIGGER WARNING)

Friday: January 18, 2019

I’m gonna kill myself tonight. Or i won’t. It’s currently 7:11pm and i’m enjoying a diet cherry 7up vodka soda.. And smoking. Within the next hour though, i will go inside and get my valium. And i’m going to decide one way or the other. To live or to die. To swallow the bottle full of pills and end this pain.. Or to continue to yet another agony filled day. I just don’t know if i can do it anymore.. I fear the pills may finally win tonight. I have fought for so long, i’m weak. And tired. And simply want to rest… to sleep peacefully and say goodbye to this world. My children will heal. My husband will have no problem moving on. The insurance money will cover our debt and my funeral. About that- i know i said i want to be cremated. I’ve reconsidered and want a burial site. I want my kids to be able to visit if they ever forgive me enough to be able to. I’m so sorry for all the pain i’ve caused each one of you and if i could’ve fixed it.. I would’ve. I fought long and hard. And i’m weak. And just done.

It’s tomorrow… 8:21am. I failed.

After being handed my prescription and appointment card, i sat in the waiting room quietly crying for ten minutes. Waiting for someone- anyone– to ask if i was okay. Because if they would have, i would have told them no. that i need help because i’m going to kill myself otherwise. But nobody questioned so i eventually walked out. I sat in that damn car for thirty minutes debating on going back inside to tell my doctor my plan for the night. But instead of going in, i took a breath, made my decision & calmly left the psychiatrists office. I picked up the girls from DJ’s and then spontaneously picked the big kids up from school early for a park playdate. We had so much fun at the park- even weston, though he was upset he missed dodgeball at school. For dinner we ordered pizza… something everyone would like. & we ordered the good kind (Round Table). Walter wanted supreme (which he doesn’t know i really dislike) so i said sure… and we had a nice meal as a family. After, i proceeded to head outside. Cup of ice in hand ready for my bong (and extra for the drink i planned on making). I smoked. & i drank. And wrote that sob story up there. After, i came inside, i cut a few times and showered- made sure to shave & put on nice panties since i planned on not waking up again. And honestly… i poured those pills in my hand multiple times. Never could get myself to take them though (i wanted to wait until the kids were asleep and i could just fall asleep peacefully in bed next to my husband… and drift off to nothingness). I did manage to drink 2 ½ strong cups of vodka soda though. Enough to where i told walter about my plans so he took my pills. Ended up falling asleep in hopes the valium that was already in me would be enough with the alcohol. But it wasn’t. Because i woke up this morning. Head pounding. Nice little reminder that i did not in fact get to finally rest but now will feel my eyeballs pounding out of my head all day. Awesome sauce. I’m still alive– yay.

today is 5/28/19. I feel differently (most days) than I did up there. but it’s been hard. and i’m still on this long journey to recovery.. seems I will never make it- but I know I will. just gotta keep at it!

Reality Check

&& please know, it isn’t only me suffering from borderline personality disorder. my husband suffers with me too. daily. it affects our entire family. I did not choose this illness any more than they chose not to have it. but that doesn’t excuse me giving up. I know firsthand the monsters were never in the closet but in my head.. so I get up and I fight– every day. I cannot give up. it’s no longer an option. but it has taken a long time to get here. and it’s been exhausting. i’m still fighting- some days i’m not fighting for myself but for my children, my husband or simply what I want for their future. it doesn’t have to be about me- just as long as i’m fighting. and I never stop.

It’s been a journey.

do I regret it- the cutting & all the harm I’ve done to myself over the years? no. I don’t. each and every scar holds a moment of pain, of agony & anguish. each scar holds a moment when I was broken and falling to pieces and had no other way to escape than to cut it out. my scars are victories that I’ve made it through it all, ALIVE… && they are just that- scars. not new wounds. memories of old ones. so I don’t regret it. if I didn’t go through it all… I wouldn’t be who I am today. and I kind of like her now.. she’s growing on me.

&& love always, Aimee