Tag: Sobriety

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13. Survivor – edited*

“From every wound there is a scar, and every scar tells a story. A story that says, -I survived.” ― Fr. Craig Scott

I know that I haven’t finished discussing my past with Kevin [09. First Love] but we’re just going to skip forward some. It’s not that I won’t or don’t want to talk about him, I just feel like there’s more to share that explains {why} I am me. Or rather, how I’ve gotten to where I am? I don’t know, whatever.

There are 2 relationships post Kev – well, maybe not exactly -post- but we weren’t “together” and he was away at college getting accustomed to his new life as a freshman basketball player. So what’s the best way to move on? Rebound. Not that I was exactly looking for a rebound but getting to know someone else didn’t hurt in helping me forget about Kevin. Although that relationship may not have hurt helping me get over Kev, it definitely hurt and left its mark for years to come. Here’s a definite altered name because he doesn’t deserve to be called anything other than, Asshole. Our relationship may have only lasted 3 months but it’s amazing how one can emotionally abuse you so much that you’re forever altered after such a short period of time. * EDIT [When you are emotionally abused you do things and put up with things that you wouldn’t normally accept. Emotional abuse can and -often does- lead to other forms of abuse. I choose to use “emotional abuse” as my umbrella term as it’s easier to discuss and how it >often begins<]* How did this happen? My only guess is that I was so vulnerable after Kevin went away to school that my guard and standards were dropped.

*🚫➡️ To better understand emotional abuse please visit: Here
*🚫➡️ If you or a loved one are a victim of domestic violence,
contact the National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1-800-799-7233 for
confidential assistance from trained advocates.

I had only been diagnosed at Mayo [06.HS/Diagnosis] just a few months prior and was still corresponding with my diagnosing doctor via email. All of my important notes, results, suggestions – everything and anything that I needed to share with my doctors back home, teachers, everything – were saved in an important file within my email. In a stunt to show control, Asshole hacked in and deleted EVERYTHING! Not -just- my medical folder, but he wiped clean my entire email account, to nothing… Remember now, I am only 17 at this point and to technically have a yahoo account you needed to be 18 at the time (has that changed?). Not that an 18 year old would know any better how to rectify the situation but my mother got a hold of customer service so fast that even The Flash would have had whiplash! Buuuuut unfortunately there was “nothing” they could do, once things are deleted from the trash, they’re lost within the back hole of cyberspace.

Looking back now, I’m sure Jack could have figured out a way to retrieve everything as his hacking skills are essentially what granted him a free masters degree that lead to some significant cybersecurity jobs. It’s always been a running joke that he actually works for the government but can’t tell us. He gets SO mad whenever anyone mentions it. He may be a phenomenal bullshiter, using words intentionally to go above your head so you have no idea what he’s saying and end up just going with it, but a gut feeling is a gut feeling and this gut feeling says otherwise! Ha, Ha.

Anyway, it was this stunt that got my parents involved and I was finally able to break away from the grips holding me prisoner. I am not exactly sure what happened, I may have a fantastic memory but I’ve certainly tried to block A-hole out, but I do remember him calling me late at night while I was at my dad’s so mad, that my dad took the phone from me – letting this guy have it, threatening to call his parents and tell them everything while also getting a restraining order. He may have been 18 but he still lived at home and had his parents fooled. It only took that one threat for him not to contact me again… until spring break [11. Childhood Friendships+] about 18 months later. I have NO idea how this guy found out, but apparently he joined the military and was stationed in FL at the time I was there. I received a call from a number I didn’t know so obviously I ignored it. Hello!? Who actually answers random numbers from out of state area codes?!?? I then received a text message from the same number that shook me to my core. It didn’t say who it was, but > I knew <. It was something along the lines of how I’m not a child anymore and that since we’re both in the same state, and area at the same time we should get together. That it had been long enough that I [shouldn’t] still be upset and that I was an adult now and didn’t need Daddy to protect me.

BreAthE…

See? I meant it when I said it shook me to my core!! I was at the strawberry festival at the time, not somewhere I had even planned on going, it was a last minute thing with Sheri’s parent’s. Nowhere was it posted online, nothing. Wherever we were, it wasn’t far from him and I still get chills when I think about it. How? How did he know? After all that time, new phone number, what? I never responded and as soon as we told Sheri’s parents what was up we booked it out of there! He never tried contacting me again, until he congratulated me via a FB message on my engagement, over 2 ½ years later. Uh, HARD BLOCK! I knew him during the Myspace craze and my FB wasn’t even under my real name at the time. What THE ACTUAL fuck?!!! It’s been 12 ½ years and THANKFULLY the universe has been beside me and I haven’t heard from him since. He lived in Royal Oak, which just so happens to be one of the top locations for adult nightlife. There is so much to do down there even during the day, but I get paralyzed every time I go there. For years, I couldn’t. Even just getting off the exit to go to the Detroit Zoo was the same and caused extreme tachycardia. Has it gotten easier over the years? Yes. Am I still affected each time I head to Royal Oak? Yes. I don’t wish anyone ill, but I also wouldn’t shed any ounce of sorrow or tears if something happened to him.

He broke me.

Which is what sent me to someone SAFE, comfortable. Someone I trusted and truly cared about. Someone who pined over me for years. Someone my mom really cared for even when we were just friends, though she always wanted more for us. Do you remember the time I kissed a guy on the bus, on the 3rd day of freshman year? If not, meet Christopher [09.First Love]. Oh Christopher… See, I [believed] he was someone safe, comfortable and trustworthy; but he shattered my heart. Unbeknownst to me, he was an addict. He too joined the military and leading up to his departure we were much closer and from my understanding, together. This was somewhere around March-May 2006 I believe? His family knew me, I was in contact with his parents (mostly his mama) while he was at bootcamp. I helped set up his welcome home party, was driven to and from said party by his dad and step-mom. They believed I was his gal, until this other girl showed up bouncing off the walls so excited and introduced herself as his girlfriend to everyone… jaw meet floor. The confused looks we all shared, it was almost a pin dropping silence within our own little bubble. At one point his cousin asked who she was, then looked at me and said, “I thought you…” I cut her off and replied, “am the best friend” with a shrug. At one point they left together and when he came back, she was gone. He told everyone he didn’t know why she thought that but that she had left. Other than that, never once did he try to rectify the situation and barely even apologized to me. It took every ounce of strength that I had not to cry.

Later that evening I received an email from his mom apologizing for his actions, that she was in disbelief herself and so disappointed in him. She promised to talk to him and make him get in touch with me. So, even later that evening I received an instant message (ayy A.I.M.!) He just kept apologizing and telling me how much he loved me and was going to make it up to me. Saying all of the right things, right? We only got a chance to talk at night due to work and school/whatever else goes on in the service post bootcamp, oh and a mini deployment. For nearly a year, I genuinely believed in our relationship. He would [half jokingly?] ask me when we were “getting hitched”, even gave me a date; blah, blah, blah. So no, we were never really engaged but from my understanding, rather serious!!

Then one day in November 2007 I got an email blast announcement, announcing and congratulating the newly married couple… Wait, what? Yeah, that’s exactly what I said and thought, too. I was so confused and angry that I sent a message I should have probably waited to send until I had some time to cool off. He of course wrote me back not understanding why I was so upset. That he’d expect me of all people to be happy for him, that he loved me so much, -> wait for it…

[I was like a SISTER!]
Boom! Mic dropped!! I’ll let you digest that for a moment…

Are you fkin’ kidding me? I didn’t even know what to say. This had to have been a joke, right? Like, this isn’t real life. I have hours and hours of saved messages, letters, texts… a sister? GTFO! My mom was just as devastated as I was. I quickly blocked him and refused to talk to him. There was nothing left to be said!!

My heart was shattered. Literally shattered.

It didn’t help that Kevin had started dating a girl, thee girl that caused most of our issues at the end (well not the real, real end, but I guess in a way it was because of her that we are officially no longer in each other’s lives at all, just not at that time). Hello mental rollercoaster, we meet again… Chris’ mom emailed me a few weeks later checking in and seeing how things were going. The nerve, right? No, I get it, she genuinely cared and wanted to see how I was doing, but also why I wasn’t talking to Christopher. So, I wrote her back, attaching just a fraction of the conversations I had saved, but enough for her to see why I believed we were legitimately, seriously, together still. Ha. The ironic thing is, I don’t even know if we were ever really technically together.

If you remember, I mentioned Christopher was an addict, yet I had no idea. His mother called me so fast, so angry and disappointed in him that she wanted more details. She was in complete disbelief. She had no idea her son was even capable of doing what he did. Apparently she let him have it and he tried reaching out because he was confused. All I had to say, or rather show, was the middle finger to my phone as his name appeared. <- I had a bad habit of not deleting anyone’s numbers. ::shrugs:: I didn’t have anything to say to him and ignored all his efforts. BTW that marriage was over within months, maybe even weeks, if I’m not mistaken.

I met my husband about 3 months later with a high, high guard up. But I’ll explain our story another time. After about 8 or so months Chris was going to be in town and really wanted to get together to talk. Having met Igor I was in a better place to try and listen. As I was still ignoring him however, he reached out to me via his mom and I told her that if he was serious, then for him to call me when he was back in town… Yeah, that call never happened. THEN a little over a year later he reached out :again: and firmly made it known that it was imperative that I give him a chance to explain himself. That he had so much to say and that “I more than anyone deserved an apology in person.” Uh… Igor and I were in such a great place that I was conflicted and concerned for his feelings about my meeting up with Chris. Like, this would be the first time in close to 2 years since we’ve actually spoken. I didn’t want Igor feeling concerned or anything but I knew he trusted me and when I asked him permission (and no, of course I knew that I didn’t {need} his “permission” – it was more about showing my respect for his feelings!) he didn’t sound too happy but knew that deep down, I needed this closure in order to really move on and heal. He told me that he’d respect my decision either way but deep down I knew he was on eggshells. Little did I know, the same day that I asked Igor about my getting together with Christopher, was the same day he received what he hoped would be my engagement ring…

We made plans to meet for lunch a few days later. He wanted to come to the house but Mom didn’t think she was ready to see him, given everything. So we planned to meet at a local diner where I waited, and waited, and as it turned out – that day became the first and last time that I have EvEr eaten by myself at a restaurant. Fker stood me up!! Seriously?! I was beyond fuming at this point when I received a call as I was driving home. He called beggggggging me to meet up with him right then, claiming he slept through his alarm because his phone died or something, who the eff knows. I was too weak to say no, and ultimately I’m -glad- that I didn’t, but part of me wishes I was strong enough to have just said, “F.U.”

Igor was right, I needed that closure. I knew that our relationship was progressing but in order for me to fully drop my wall, to be authentically raw and 100% vulnerable in my love and trust for him, I needed this.
I’ll admit, it was hard seeing Christopher at first. He’s always had this charm and charisma about him that no one can withhold smiling back when he smiles at you. I kind of hate him for that, joking::notjoking:: He told me first and foremost that I deserved so much more than an apology, that there are no excuses for his actions and that he hated himself for the hurt he had caused me. He loved and respected me too much, to not apologize and explain himself in person. He knew that nothing he was going to say was going to fix or make things better, and that he would understand if I still held resentment, though of course hoped I wouldn’t. He really wanted to apologize to Mom but he understood and asked me to pass his sincere apologies on to her. It was this conversation where I learned about him being an addict. That he was so messed up in the evenings that he couldn’t recall half of our conversations. Essentially, our entire “relationship” was while he was under the influence and he was basically living a double life without realizing it. You smell bullshit, right? Cause, same! The more we talked, the easier it got to see his side of things and my wall of anti-trust was starting to crumble. That said, forgiving and forgetting are two very different things. I could feel the genuine sincerity behind his words and forgiveness crept in. I told him about Igor and he claimed that he had never seen my face or eyes light up the way they do when I talk about him. He could tell how truly in love I was and apologized that he couldn’t be that person for me. He was thrilled for me because I deserved better and that until he was in a good place with himself, that he couldn’t be that person for anyone; he knew he had a lot of work to do.

Saying goodbye to Chris was easier than expected. We hugged and went our separate ways. I called Igor as soon as I got into my car and started bawling… Ha, I can only imagine what must have been going through his mind at that second seeing as he had just gotten a ring for me days prior. The tears I shed were relief, forgiveness, happiness, hopefulness, and so much more. I was relieved that the weight of all this negative energy was lifted off my shoulders, I was able to forgive and kickstart my healing to truly move on and leave it all in the past, and for that -I was happy-! Most of all, I was hopeful for my future with Igor. Meeting up with Christopher was exactly what I didn’t realize I truly needed. I was at peace; and within just a few short hours:

I was also engaged!!

{I wanted to end this post with that very last sentence, but I felt it necessary to give an update: It took a couple more years but he finally did it! If I’m not mistaken, I believe he recently celebrated 9 years of continuous sobriety. He has since married and had children. Which, of course, is great but honestly? I care more about the fact that he went on to achieve his bachelors degree and then even his masters! He was able to attain his ultimate dream of becoming a professional sports reporter and is currently a director of public relations and broadcasting! I could not be prouder or happier for him and his success!! You know the whole “once you love someone you always will” thing I keep mentioning? It’s true, I do love Christopher; but something  I have come to realize as the years have passed and with the help of therapy, is that after Asshole, I went for safety. Chris had always been special to me, [a true friend], even though he always wanted more for us. I never could love him the way that he wanted/needed, the way that I had loved Kevin or my husband. Maybe deep down he always knew that. While this is speculation, I believe that what transpired could very well have been his own subconscious way of protecting the both of us. It sucked and hurt so much at the time, but looking back, I wasn’t being fair to him to begin with. Maybe that’s why saying goodbye to him was easier than I had expected. Subconsciously I knew that I loved him fiercely, but only ever at arms length as a true friend.}

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02. Dad

“A father is a son’s first hero and a daughter’s first love.”
– unknown

You see, I had to grow up very fast. My parents separated when I was three due to my father’s inability to break up with alcohol. I remember the separation, talking to the court, the battles between my mother and great aunt and what it was like to see my father again after months of being apart while he tried to get his sobriety in check.

That memory of reuniting is my truest happiest early memory! My mother’s step-mom, Grandma Ina (may she rest peacefully) made it happen. She was an incredible woman and I will always be thankful for the seven years I knew her! When we arrived at my great aunt Mary Lou’s, whom from here on out will be referred to as simply, “Auntie”, it was like every kid’s dream come true. Presents stacked from floor to ceiling in every holiday wrapping that we missed dad. We even had both Christmas stockings and Easter baskets with Valentine treats to boot. Purely magical in the eyes of a child. Hell, even as an adult who wouldn’t love a scene like that? The Valentine treats being the most symbolic because as of February 14th, just before my fourth birthday, my father stuck to his sobriety and hasn’t looked back!

Other memorable early memories with my daddy include: Friday nights, fish sticks with macaroni for dinner, watching Full House and playing games, particularly barbies, on the kitchen floor. Odd as it may seem, playing on the kitchen floor became “our thing” for years to come.

With sobriety came truths, secrets and personal turmoil. For the first time my father had to face who he was, what he was and what it’d mean going forward. Remember how I mentioned that my father was raised Catholic? We’re talking about five siblings, private school and a mother who worked for the church kind of Catholic. Irony there is that dad and his siblings all struggled with substance abuse and addictions. So much so that out of all the “kids” in my generation on that side – I can confidently say that I am one of, if not the only one, who hasn’t had a substance abuse issue! Unfortunately history repeats itself, passed down by generations. I actually had a cousin who was so caught up down the wrong path that he was wrongfully executed by the state of Texas. That’s right, the asshole known as Rick Perry allowed an innocent man to be put to death. By the sound of those crickets instead of gasps, this news clearly isn’t a shock… Texas has the Law of Parties, which allows someone to be held criminally responsible for the actions of another. Steven Michael Woods Jr. was murdered by a wrongful justice system – while the real criminal (who pled guilty and ALL physical evidence points to) sits in jail for life. The most fucked up part is that Rick Perry had to give the final “okay” just 15 minutes prior, knowing Steven was, for all intents and purposes, innocent of a crime that would warrant death. Perry then went on record just weeks after bragging about his number of executions. ASS-hole!

Just a few short months after working the program, Dad met Brian. Anyone who knows anything about the program knows that you should wait at least one year before starting a new relationship. Yes, you read that right; Dad and Brian started a relationship. Not only was my dad battling for sobriety, but also the truth in the fact that he is gay. I honestly believe if it wasn’t for Brian, my dad may not be where he is today. They were the best thing for each other at such a pivotal point in my dad’s life! [Thank you, Brian, for not only helping my dad, but also for being a decent step-mother… even if you did tie us up that one time while watching us. 😉 ]

Obviously these new revelations spiraled confusion for everyone involved and everyone dealt with it differently. It took some time, but finally everyone came around with acceptance. In fact, my parents are the best of friends, they talk almost every day and we celebrate holidays as one big family. Brian and mom get along great. You’d never know there was a time when things weren’t so great… but there definitely was. I’m not sure when Jack found out about Dad, but I was nine.  Jack had a very difficult time with friends for various reasons, but having a gay father didnt help during a time with less acceptance and when HIV/AIDS was on the rise. Dad didn’t want me to face the same hardships, wanted to protect his Princess from prejudice. As I was getting older Mom tried convincing him to fill me in – but it was too late. I found out during a fight with my life-long friend [shout out to my Lori-Lou Sissy Poo]. Lauren and I fought like sisters. The two most memorable being when she threw a handful of panty liners at me, while simultaneously yelling at me to, “eat pads!” and the other was when she yelled, “at least my dad isnt gay!”
My brother and Lauren’s brother were in boy scouts together and our mothers became instant friends. Every morning before school, for 6 years, Lauren would be dropped off at my house roughly two hours early while her mother went to work. I was usually still asleep and would wake up to either A) Lauren playing, B) a clean room that wasn’t clean the night before (having an organized clean freak for a faux sister had its perks), and more often than I would have liked, C) a sneaky little blond trying to glance at my latest diary entries. Talk about invasion and lack of privacy! Usually I wasn’t mortified, however once when we were seven, the last thing I wanted her to discover was sprawled right across the page: “Mrs. Jena Martin. Mrs. Ricky Martin” … her brother’s name is Ricky…

Yes, Ricky Martin.
No, not the singer.

As I’ve mentioned, we fought like sisters. Over everything. One morning a fight broke out revolving around my dollhouse. This was not new territory, however the following was. I’m not sure exactly what was said leading up to it, but I’ll never forget these few lines:

Bratty Jena: “at least my dad’s not fat!” (Sorry Rick!!!)
Upset Lauren: “well at least my dad isn’t gay!”
Shocked Jena: “my dad’s not gay!”
Confident Lauren: “uh-huh! I heard Mom and Ricky talking about it!”
[Confused, angry Jena runs upstairs and sits on sleeping mother’s bed]
“MOM lauren just said Dad is gay!”
[Half asleep Mom yelling, “oh shit” inside her head]
“What?”
J: “he isn’t gay, right Mom?!”
M: “Lauren, go watch T.v.” 
[Pause that lasted an eternity]
J: “Mom?”
M: “I think that’s something you need to talk to Dad about.”

I didn’t. And it wasn’t until a few weeks later that my dad sat me down and told me what I had already come to realize as true. He is gay and him and Brian aren’t “just roommates”.

Funny story… I had known Brian was gay for at least 3 years – never thought anything of it. Never made the connection. Though, it all made sense then why Dad slept in what I thought was Brian’s room (which was really their guest room) any time Jack and I were over, why we celebrated so many things with Brian’s family. Ah yes, explains a lot. I had found out Brian was gay when I discovered his male calender. At the time he told me it was his former ::coughpartnercough:: roommate’s. I mentioned it to Jack and he told me it was Brian’s. When I asked if he was gay, Jack came right out and said, “yes.” Surprisingly enough, Jack didn’t mention anything about Dad. My guess is because he was protecting me as well… I was only five or six. But don’t you think if I knew what gay was at five, I would have been filled in? That’s what I thought at least when Dad finally told me. I wasn’t upset he was gay, I was upset about the decite and waiting so long to tell me – or rather, for me to find out.

Ironically, I only ever had one incident, actually two – same person – when it came to my father’s sexuality. I always had friends going with me to stay the night at Dad’s. Okay, maybe not “always”… again, female = absolutes… anyway, there was never an issue until 5th grade. I had a friend over for a sleepover – nothing out of the ordinary happened, and yet the next day my mother received a very rash, disgustingly hateful voice message from said friend’s mother. She could not believe my mother failed to let her know about my dad before she allowed her daughter into “that environment.” Needless to say, said friend wasn’t “allowed” to be my friend anymore. The second incident happened a few months later at a school function. The entire 5th grade throughout the district had a meet and greet at the local skating rink. Good ol’ Skatin Station II. My former friend had gotten into an altercation with her friends from her previous school. I just happened to witness it. Yay me! When the girl told her mother, I somehow was again present and was accused of being involved. It was then when her mother publicly announced that I was, “the girl with the faggot father.” Yeah, maturity at it’s finest, ladies and gents. It wasn’t until three years later at the 8th grade end of the year party that the girl’s mother actually apologized.