You Deserve To Have Me Count Against Your Dropout Rate

When I dropped out of High school I was months away from 18. So that still requires a legal gaurdian to sign you out. My father went with me that day. My Mom being a highschool teacher doesn’t have as flexible hours as my father.

When we got there they took us into the principals office. Where all of a sudden a realize I’ve been bombarded by an entire education team. The Superintendent, Prinicipal, both Vice Principals, counselors, teachers, school board reps… it was a circus all lined up in a horseshoe of overbearing male posturing. I waited to see who they had assigned to be ring leader.

Of course, the nice Principal and very nice vice Principal who had both known me since I was little had been given tthe job to do most of the speaking. I wonder how they were convinced it was right to treat me the way that followed? They tried reasoning and twisting and political speak.They all started chiming in as my father and I defended our points valiantly, though depressing that we had to fight to begin with. I was raised by a politician and I understood their bullshit wording and the reasons behind the frantic fae smiles. They didn’t think I’d done my research. Sorry folks, there’s a reason your losing one of the smartest kids in your school. Cause they wouldn’t find a way within NCLB to get my credits to work.

Yet still had the gall to try to convince me to “Withdraw with the intent to homeschool.” Which isn’t the same thing as dropping out of the system. The difference being I don’t count in their state report card as in their drop out rates.

Oh no sirs! We kept trying to explain, not that we got to talk much. Which is saying  a lot coming from a professional talker. Finally they did something that still baffles me and I am not sure is legal or forgivable.

They removed my Father from the room to talk to me alone. I am VERY very lucky I don’t get intimidated. Cause they then tried to convince me it was my parents making me do it. I flipped out on them. I’ve made all the big choices in my life since I was old enough for my parents to explain things and for me to do my own research and understand it.

How dare they minimize me that way, I was not someone to be “handled.” I refused to speak with them farther until they brought my Dad back in the room. But first I chastised them looking them each in the face, verbally reminding them of the promises, the contracts they’d signed agreeing to all of this. They had broken every promise toward my education they made when I first started High school.

Then I went silent and waited.

They started up again and I got mean. I flipped out. I heard later that the entire school’s front office heard me (I don’t have a quiet voice, it projects naturally, and I was furious at that point) knock them all down a peg. Ending with the fact that this was my decision. “Hand me the papers to sign and bring my father in so he can sign his half as well. Because I absolutely will count against your drop out rate. Because I DID the work. I did more than your students who are about to walk, but you won’t let me from a technicality that you aren’t willing to help us find a way around. Bad form. You’re educators. Not the people who derail those who want an education. When dealing with a student who has the system setup against them it’s important to have their back and find the loopholes and back doors in the system to help those students be the success stories they should. I don’t mean cheating, I’m talking about finding a way for them to have an equal chance. But you all, everyone of you, failed with me. So more than anyone I know, you deserve to have my number count against you on that dropout rate!”

They brought my father back in.

A few of them had tears in their eyes, all of them were apologizing.

All of them deserved to feel that way. They deserved to not get to cushion their emotions behind a desk. To recognize that if at any point one of them had tried to help figure out the new system when it came to me, we wouldn’t be there.

But we were and I dropped out. That was 12yrs ago

My Britney Spears’ Moment

Remember when Britney Spears buzzed all her hair off and went totally nuts for a while? Well….

Yeah I know, I shaved my head at least 8 months ago at this point. But the shaving my head isn’t so much the imagery I’m trying to conjure, more the going totally nuts part. Maybe more specifically, an obscenely short lived marriage. Mine made it 7 months, how about you? Two weeks shy of dating for 4 years and a few months shy of being best friends for 8 years. I walked away from my marriage. 

I walked away from my future completely. It’s not like I don’t understand that I can get a new future. Believe me, with every diagnosis I have to reinvent parts of me to move forward in my life. But I never thought this would be a future I would walk away from. I had a husband who despite being dreadfully human; loved me and tried to take care of me, family that is ALWAYS there, professors who were possibly willing to work with my health conditions, an actual decision about what I want to do for a living (if I can hold a job that is), even knowing I am infertile I was comfortable with my next steps I was taking to make a family. I had every part of my life moving forward. Yet somehow I was still drowning and I hadn’t seen any shore yet. I’ve realized, that when it came down to it, I didn’t have any of those life thingies on lockdown. Starting with what was inside my own head all the way to what was going on with him in front of my eyes.

He needed help. Instead of helping himself, he placed me in the role of a parent practically, forcing me to carry him as he ever so quickly was spiraling into the Doldrums. Holding him up was like trying to keep the sand from falling between your fingers after a wave splashes over your hands. Not to mention my hands can only take so much before they cramp up;) –Spoonie joke!

He was so very scarily violent before medications. Only a few of our friends had seen him like this and never any of his family. The friends who had to sleep over in blankets outside my locked bedroom door to keep him from taking the door off it’s hinges to get to me while I was sleeping. Friends who would stay for days, because it wasn’t safe to leave me alone with him or him alone with himself for that matter. But once the medications started to work, he became somewhat functional. Someone who could even-out from his erratic emotions and behavior at times. He became a friend again. I still walked on eggshells, but I didn’t have to have protection outside the relationship anymore.

He prevented me from being able to be me, when the person you are with forever is supposed to strengthen the things that make you you. That was still a problem.

I’ve known I am polyamorous since I was in High school. I wasn’t sexually active until after High school, this gave me a number of years to understand what I felt about this. I knew part of what I was losing myself in with husband was denying the poly part of me. (I must point out that marriage does NOT affect the ability to be poly) Husband and I had always had an agreement that we would be poly, (I, already being so when he met me, and he was going to work on it for himself) but we needed to give each other some focus for awhile as per my policy with every new relationship. Awhile was supposed to be months and it turned into 3 and 1/2 years. Not kidding. With my health issues and husband learning to be my caregiver throughout the flareups and downs, his mental health issues coming to the surface, me having to go on Chemo, and our struggles with becoming adults in the outside world; there was never a good time to start moving our relationship into poly. But he did finally make a deadline after he proposed. I told him I had to be able to start moving into poly life again or I had to consider he wasn’t who I was supposed to be with. I thought that the marriage was a wonderful time for him to understand that he was my primary and another person would never be the reason he could lose me. He seemed to feel this would cement his “ownership” of me. I unfortunately didn’t realize this was how he saw it at the time. He set a date for a year after engagement to start opening the relationship and date other people. When that date rolled around he seemed like he had been hit by a semi truck. He even implied we hadn’t discussed it, ever!? Luckily I was able to get him to admit the bullshit behind that argument, originally anyway. Now that we are separated he is saying all sorts of things to previous mutual friends.

That’s the way break ups work though right? Especially as a girl with mostly male friends… They mostly sided with him. But that also tells me they are believing him when they’re told by husband that I would do particular not nice things, very nonfactual things interestingly enough. Stuff that if you know me you’d look at anybody suggesting them with a funny look. But apparently these friends didn’t actually know me, cause they sure seem to be believing his victim claiming nonsense. Yet they won’t believe me (other than the few who have seen him on the edge with his mental disorder) about his being mean or violent. Decidedly, could they have ever actually been my friends? It still hurts to feel this isolated when I was a victim of domestic violence, yet no one is willing to see him as an aggressor. To the point where they’d rather blame the victim as a liar.

I feel like I’m a stalled car in the center lane of a highway, trying to figure out which fork I take next, to actually get to any destination at this point.

I now definitively can say I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. I know what I was doing, with him in my life, was worse for me, but at least I had a map to follow then. Now I’m struggling to understand what I actually lost when my back was turned so that I never actually saw it. Like the Silence in DOCTOR WHO, I always forgot unless I was looking right at it.

The biggest factors:

Being infertile- I always planned to be a Mom. I want to adopt so badly, always have. But I want to see what carrying a life feels like. Having lost so much in my life, having had so much of my self die inside me, it’s become extremely important to me to feel my body make life not take anymore of mine away.

Being a Burden

Not getting school done— I legitimately only have two excuses for not getting my work done. My frequently difficult health issues and my husband’s inability to do anything “adult life related” to take care of himself. When I had to help with his homework, his class scheduling, his doctor’s appointments, his, his, his…. etc. When in the world was I supposed to have time to work on my own work? Especially when the only times I wasn’t busy taking care of his real world stuff was because I was laid up in bed not in any condition to do anything but request help for even the smallest things (ex. picking up my water glass beside me so I can drink, it would get that bad).

Becoming socially isolated— Yeah, I know. That’s something I said I wouldn’t let happen again. That’s how my abusive ex got me under his control, why would I ever let myself be vulnerable like that again? Because when it comes down to it, I have to trust to love; and I really wanted the chance to love this man. So when he didn’t like me going out without him, because “what if something happened they can’t take care of you right,” I willingly conceded to his judgement. But in the back of my head I didn’t realize at the time, I was only doing this to prevent any “punishment” I would “deserve” otherwise. I was perpetuating the Abuse cycle myself. I didn’t stand up for what I wanted out of fear of the consequences. When did I become someone who was afraid of the consequences? What level of emotional, mental, or physical pain did it take for me to finally fold? Because I sure don’t remember the exact incident.

Feeling worthless— I still can’t shake that feeling of worthlessness that has been creeping up my spine all of these years. It doesn’t help that he would remind me regularly in much more clever wording; that I am indeed worthless and dependent on him. Even though he couldn’t even pick up his medications on his own!? When he was feeling worthless he did everything he could think of (not usually consciously) to tear me down until I felt the same way, brothers in arms I suppose? Well I didn’t want to be held in drowning arms any longer.

Still being abused— On some level I knew I married an abusive guy. Under no fault of his own is he like this though. Before you judge him, you have to understand, it’s like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. He didn’t mean to ever be cruel and rarely remembered much of the cruelty afterward. Such are the symptoms with his disease. But to find out he is doing “so much better” medically and the way he was treating me wasn’t doing better… started to be a wake up call for me. This cycle was too unhealthy to live in forever. If he was unwilling to make a solid daily effort toward bettering his mental health for his own benefit and mine I couldn’t stick around and wait to see if I’d get suicidal in turns along with him. But maybe that’s what he wanted? He has certainly implied that before. Would that have “justified it all” for him? Probably not, it would have just given him another way to self-hate. Which is the last thing I wanted since I really was looking for the confident nonvolatile man that I was friends with 8 years ago. I knew after the disease was triggered he would never be the same. Not being nice to me so that my days consist of walking on eggshells and not being safe wasn’t part of the bargain for me.

Being Poly— He wanted all the bells and whistles like you see with a new toy in a commercial. But he didn’t want to deal with actually having to assemble a new toy first. He didn’t seem to understand that there’s a lot more trust and work that goes into a multi-partner relationship than most mono relationships (not because they don’t also need it granted). He loved the lip-speak all about being poly and swinging, he didn’t love the reality. That would be why I resent this fact coming out so late in the game. He wanted to be poly or so he always told me. Until I got to be poly too, then what he wanted did a pretty big reversal. When it came down to it monogamy was so ingrained into husband’s head he didn’t know how to be or think any other way. Before I asked to be allowed to get rid of any OPP rules it was just an acknowledgeable permission to cheat on his part. He enjoyed these liberties immensely. But when I wanted to be allowed to play without him like he could without me the ingrained belief that it’s still cheating reared it’s ugly head. He didn’t know how to think outside the guilt-driven patterns of his belief in monogamy and took it out on me. That’s ok, there’s nothing wrong with being mono, but I wish he’d figured it out a little earlier along in the relationship. I wouldn’t have poured all of me into him then. I wouldn’t have given him every weakness I have as a weapon. I wouldn’t have done a lot of things actually, there are even more things though, I would have done.

That’s what really kills me. Realizing that I stepped back into the abuse cycle when I started dating him, even though I’d been climbing the ladder out of the “abused women’s well” rather steadily at that point. Somehow he triggered me right back into it. To the point where I passed up opportunities that ranged from mildly entertaining to most likely life changing. I wouldn’t be who I am today without having been through what I went through with Husband. But who would I be?

Making the Equation: A + B = D

A+B=D That’s a phrase I tell myself over and over again in my house. It is part of how I am figuring out and growing in relationships and life.

We all come with baggage. What that means when it comes down to it is that it’s hard to learn new patterns in life from those we develop based on our experiences throughout life. (erroneous example: If a guy hits me every time I say the word dog, I’m gonna learn to stop saying the damn word).

That’s really what we mean by baggage.

When you have an experience over and over again; be it the way of a parent relationship imploding, a year in college that threw your life off track, an abusive relationship in college, or a health condition that got torn down by previous significant others… baggage is referring to the patterns that these interactions built into us.

Due to time after time of the same behaviors. A+B always equals C right? That’s what you learn. Every time your Mom comes home she asks how your days was and makes you cookies, it’s a wonderful experience, let’s say? Then if you came home one day and she wasn’t there no note, nothing, would you be worried? It’s like that! You always know what the equation is in each situation you’ve experienced before. When you are in a negative situation while developing these patterns then you’re going to look at the equation and reach the conclusion; a given of something negative.

It seems to me that most of us develop defense mechanisms to deal with these negative equations. Usually the defense mechanisms aren’t positive attributes for communication, for various reasons. Not just communication, but developing relationships, romantic or not. When you leave the negative situations behind it’s hard to learn to adapt to a different equation.

In our situation, my husband and I both had various behaviors that shutdown a conversation when we weren’t willing or ready to deal with the topic. Perhaps I shouldn’t say had, we still have these defense mechanisms, but when we were able to see that these things were happening we were able to start working on it. We use a variety of techniques from key words to phrases, to rules about situations before they happen. We had to teach ourselves with each situation that A+B doesn’t have to = C the equation can have other out comes (it isn’t always negative) A+B can = D. But this isn’t something that just knowing means it’s solved. Humans are never that simple.

When A+B started to equal D more often I believed that the equation could change. Then my Husband flipped out on me. He went very manic and crossed lines I swore I wouldn’t allow to happen to me… He ingrained back on to my brain the equation A+B= C (at least with him it always will now) and I’m working all over again for the belief that this equation isn’t always a true statement. I don’t want to run off any other man I love because I don’t believe it’s possible For the answer to be D.

Sleeping Beauty Syndrome

Did I really just sleep 46hrs? That’s pretty extreme. I mean I rolled over, I got up to pee, I think people said hello to me… but I slept through everything.

I woke up at 3:00am with a million text and Twitter notifications and a rumbling stomach. I also now vaguely remember demanding Gatorade water at points. (I like to water it down, too sweet) I got to make myself soup that I know my Mom made and left in the fridge. As I wander into the hall way and turn on lights I notice that, shit’s changed!?!

Weirdest thing about sleeping this long? I went to sleep with the place a wreak. Don’t get me wrong it’s less of a wreak than it has been. I have been working on it, really I have! Also my amazing parents keep showing up and cleaning while I lie sick in bed. They tackled the kitchen the other day. It was sad on my part. This was stuff I know a typical adult my age can keep up with regularly. But it took the “cleaning fairies” showing up for my place to see the love I should be giving it. If only I knew how to conserve my spoons and spend them as soon as I get a few!

I have three different infections right now. Woot! That’s what I get for having fun for a weekend…

Possibility of Infertility

It’s not that I don’t have support, it’s not that everyone isn’t listening when I need it; but boy do I feel alone.

My friends and family all try to remind me that I have embryos AND eggs frozen. Most people aren’t lucky enough to have either. They are also reminding that this concept isn’t coming out of know where. I had already considered this as a possible outcome of my health issues as well as my medication side-affects. But Lupus has taken something from me, every step of my life. Step by step I go and Lupus follows behind snatching it all out from under me, since I was a child! I just didn’t want pregnancy to be another one of those things that Lupus took away from me.

Step One Toward Baby World

Well the first steps involve a lot of doctors appointments and tests along with getting my cycle regulated and fertile. Since I was on birth control I have to be off it long enough for my body to start producing eggs again. This CAN take 3 months to a year or so. But I have the time limit of how long before my health deteriorates. If it gets bad enough then trying to have a child wouldn’t be a health-conscious choice at that point.

We see the High-Risk OB this week! We have been consulting with him over the phone and he has been talking with my other specialists. But husband and I get to meet him finally! We will find out what he plans for my Lupus with a pregnancy. I already have the bloodwork done, saw the dentist and eye doctor, my Oncologist’s Okay, my Rheumatologist’s excitement and curiosity. This really is it before the whole waiting for a positive test result.

Name Change Time, Mrs. R

Guess what I did today? Among the much needed cleaning and organizing and Thank You letters written today… I managed to get my new Social Security card and Drivers’ License!!! Officially legally MRS. R now! Legally recognized by Federal and State! WOOT!!

But I was pretty pissed that I can’t change my middle name to my maiden name as is traditional in my family still. My state doesn’t allow for middle name changes?! I’m like, right cause obviously I’m a mobster in hiding… sigh. I’m still going by my maiden name as my middle name though, thank you very much!

Please Return Wednesday

I keep forgetting it’s Thursday. I know that today is the day before the 4th of July. That part I seem to be having no trouble remembering. But remembering that today is a Thursday is not working for me. I’m not talking a mild forgot once incidence either. I’m talking I went to the court house today and thought it was Wednesday until the clerk told me otherwise, then showed me on the large calendar on the wall behind her. They’ve reminded me on Twitter twice. The Victoria’s Secret Angel card guy even reminded me it’s Thursday! I’m having a serious issue with needing one more day in my week today apparently.

Husband says he thinks it’s because I slept through Wednesday…

I didn’t sleep THROUGH Wednesday, I just, slept on and off a lot yesterday… which turns out was Wednesday. I swear this is not my fault. It is totally my Lupus… really…

Oh, what triggered it you say? Well… I guess I did have to do with that part, yeah…

We got back Sunday from our Family (my Momma’s side) vacation and Honeymoon. I didn’t exactly rest afterward like I know I should. Granted I had slept a lot in the car cause I was already sick, so to an extent I felt like I’d been resting already. My body previously started crashing on Friday pretty hardcore. I can’t really claim I had any spoons left by then really. I saved up maybe two spoons on the two day drive home and crashed Sunday night. Monday we find out a best friend, so great a friend she was in our wedding, is having her 21st Bday!! Technically her birthday is the Tuesday, but the dinner and subsequent pub crawl would be Monday night. Woohoo! Not missing this.

That didn’t make Husband happy. He’s looking at me with this, no please don’t you dare do this to me again, look. I just look back like I have no clue how he can fathom a different decision in this situation. I mean come on, I’m already sick, my body is just gonna keep crashing…. whether I go out or not. Why not go out and have fun before the Lupus crash really hits?! This seemed like a fair justification to me at the time. Husband pointed out that I can get sick on top of the illness my body obviously is already fighting.

Oh pooh!  **Great response right?**

It didn’t help that he had other plans for the night, so he had no way to take care of me or make me go home if I got tired or looked sicker. Which didn’t make him any happier. But he drove me up to the dinner and headed to his plans for the night anyway.

Here’s where a beautiful miscommunication happened. I told Husband that I thought I would go on the pub crawl, since he wouldn’t be with me. He heard me say that I wouldn’t go on the pub crawl since he wasn’t with me…. well that led to a lot of confused texts and calls throughout the evening and later missed calls once I was in the clubs.

It doesn’t help that I almost lost my phone in the bathrooms twice. This has been happening to me a lot lately. I almost left my phone at a rest stop on our trip South.

I went on the pub crawl. The level of liquor aside, it wasn’t the healthiest of my choices lately. Being inside the bars, all the people, shaking hands, speaking close to my face, even kisses hello or goodbye on the cheek. I was in the true cesspool of diseases, any of which disease I easily could catch on top of what I have (noncontagious to others) now and I was LOVING it!!! I hadn’t been out and really had fun since the chemo. I mean the last treatment was only two weeks ago. But who cares there isn’t going to be another one!!! AAAhhhhh I wanted to PARTY!!! I really didn’t go that crazy. Drunk granted. But unsafe drunk, black out drunk, any extreme like that. Really not big on that kinda drunk since I was 21 myself actually;) hahaha

**I sound like I’m going a little crazy right? Cabin fever does that to social butterflies I tell you**

I was having a great time. I’d even met some current social chairs to a few Frats (I’m Alum, but I know my girls would love to party with them) I was talking about the potential for socials for my girls and getting pretty excited for them. All of a sudden there’s my Husband standing next to me and pretty much carries me out of the bar!! WTF!?! What just happened, where did you come from, why didn’t you let me finish talking???

Why aren’t you wearing your mask? was his response…

I didn’t have a response for that, other than not wanting to, which isn’t a reason at all. Not when it comes to wearing the mask.

I was awake part of Tuesday, but mostly from anger. I didn’t have a good reason, beyond his over reaction, to be mad at my Husband. I was mad though. It didn’t help that he was by far more angry, so he had a snarky response to no matter what I had to say.

When I say part of Tuesday what I mean is I was awake for coffee and breakfast, I did that part myself:)

Then I slept until dinner, when I went out with my bestie for girl time to catch up. I legit don’t remember sitting down when I got home after dinner, let alone going to bed.

Then I woke up this morning at 7:00am ready to get work done, like I planned to Wednesday! Only to find out it’s Thursday. So can we please rewind and return it to Wednesday that way I can get done what I planned to do today and have Thursday to work as well? K, thanks.

 

Are We Really PLANNING For a Baby!?!

I’m trying to wrap my brain around what my husband and I will be doing over the next few months. The plan will lead to our lives changing for… well forever.

 

I haven’t had a chance to really process the idea that I may not actually be able to have children if I wait, like I initially planned. I mean I planned to have my college degree first, hell even a dog!! But the baby is coming first if I want that option. Unless I’m willing to risk not having it…

 

From the persecutive I have of all the options in my hand right now, the only spade I have to play right now is baby first college after. But boy is that a scary persecutive. Especially since society claims the “proper order” is very specific, of which I won’t be following remotely in this situation. I think what scares me most is knowing this is something I am ready (as you can be) for, but I don’t know if my life with this guy is ready for a baby on top of the complications of his mental disorder and incorporating it into taking care of my health and a baby.

Homemade Wedding

My wedding ceremony took place in my neighborhood. When I say neighborhood, I don’t just mean my parent’s house. I mean the entire neighborhood! It was ACTUALLY the perfect day for it; The weather was amazing, the colors were amazing, It was ridiculously fun!

 

It was weird knowing my groom said he didn’t like anyone enough to want to invite them. I had to fight him to get him to have grooms men. He “didn’t like any of them as people” But I decided to see that as part of his depression talking and chose who I understand to be his friends. They at least believe he cares. So they care about him. They deserve to be there if not just for that reason, they care. Weird snags throughout the night before and day. All of them I can chock up to his strange mood fluctuations. But it was beautiful. If this is the extant of how he fluctuates, then I can do this forever:)