Diary - Entry 31
Tonight, I am listening to Josh Turner. . .
The hour is not late (11pm), but yet, I feel as if I have not slept in 'says, weeks, months or even years. . . reliving ones past is sometimes draining, oppressive and downright horrendous. To see the choices that you made, on the path that you took, wondering if you took the right road. . .because it sure as hell was too late to turn around and go the other way. . . too many things have happened, too many choices (good and bad) made and too many regrets on so many levels that the maze of life feels as if it will never let you out.
I am sleeping over with a girlfriend, Hugh is watching a movie with her daughter and we have had a couple of Raspberry Mojita's, while swimming in her fabulous pool with the kids. I needed some down time, and as we have developed a good friendship over the last 6 years ( she and I are one another's safety nets.. .), I needed to talk to someone other than me, myself and I. It isn't often that my husband is a prick, but he was in rare form the last few days and I just had to get away from him.
I don't feel up to delving deep tonight, I have too much on my mind to thrust myself backwards, at the moment. Needless to say, I will be somewhat less detailed than usual. . .apparently there are people that know more about my past than I do. . . .which, makes certain conversations . . . difficult at best. This is not personal, it is just the way I feel. Goodnight for now.
Saturday, August 21, 2010
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
One Foot Wrong. . .
Diary Entry - 30
It's like your a... swingset and I am the kid who falls.. . . .
I am feeling in a Pink mood tonight. She sings what I feel.. . .most of it covering a span of time that most people would find a lifetime crammed into a shell of nothingness.
I would really like to begin, where I left off, but somehow, considering my mood, that just doesn't seem appropriate.
The Pink CD I refer to is Funhouse. . . Each song says something to me in a way that is appropriate to most phases in my life.
I my case, that was my son, James Hayden Anderson V. I did not want to name him that, but like all other factors in my marriage to Jay, I had no choice. Therefore, to distinguish him from his father and most of all his grandfather, I insisted that he be called by his middle name, Hayden.
From the moment I found out I was pregnant, even though I was scheduled to leave for Lackland Airforce Base, I was at odds. Not so much because I was against abortion, but I somehow felt that he was meant to be born and that it was my job, as his mother, to protect him, from harm, and bring him into this world.
When Jay finally realized that we were going to have a baby, he seem to "reconcile" himself to that fact.
He came over, his mother came over. . .even Big Jay graced me with his presence. . .(yee haw). I had a hard time with everything and everyone telling what was best for the baby, don't keep it, keep it, give it away. . . .make Jay marry you. . .he's a "good catch", everyone was relentless with their opinions. I was so beaten down, I just packed up and went to my aunt in Arkansas. She was the first one to tell me plain and simple. . ."a baby is a gift from God, don't slap God in the face for giving you the ability to bring life into this world".
I returned. Jay and I worked things out. He was over at my mothers house on Market street one night , we were listening to music and it was very late. While lying on the floor, he layed his hand on my stomach, leaned down and kissed it. He looked at me and said "we really are having a baby, I feel it moving inside you". . . I replied, yes. He kissed me and we actually 'made love' for the very first time. Everything, up to that point had just been sex. Two people, in love with two other people and realizing that they were, we were. . . .going to be a family and with deep likeness between us. . . parents...
We married in Miami, Oklahoma. I was wearing a second hand pale blue floral dress and he was in a shirt and tan pants. We had $150.00 in the glove box, a baby on the way and the list goes on.
As I am a 10th generation southerner, and to that point, only my parents had been divorced (yet they had married each three times), I took my vows very serious. In the old days, people with lesser feeling and sometimes unknown to one another, had married, had families, grandchildren and died together. This is what I had planned for Jay and I.
Unfortunatly, my husband, although I cared for him immensly, had other ideas.
He thought I was a stupid, inept girl, fresh off the farm, no common sense, let alone able to decipher his most secret plans. He was unfaithful from day one. He even went so far as to have his friend Max, call with all these excuses, because Donna Rector, was on the end of the line. He would go the her on the weekends and leave me, pregnant and alone, in Oklahoma with out so much as a "see ya on Sunday" . When I asked to go with him, he would tell me no. Why? Because he was going to be busy helping his dad and Jake on the farm. . . This went on for months.
While I knew what he was doing and it broke my heart because had violated every vow we made, I felt trapped....trapped in a way that at 19, I could not see anyway out of. I was heavily pregnant, it was late in the summer. I told him to take me with him so I could see my mother. He finally relented.
My mother, was to say the least, not a good host. We came home from Pizza Hut that Saturday with my little brother. I entered the house first. Randy was waiting behind the front door. He grabbed my mother and covered her mouth. I ran (as fast as I could) to the kitchen and grabbed the phone to call 911. He threw a knife at me, aimed at my stomach, it hit me just above the baby, but between the breast bone, he ran when he saw what he had done.
Obviously, both Hayden and I survived. Randy never meant to hurt me, so much as to hurt my mother. He made the sad mistake thinking that my mother would have given a shit as to whether I and my son survived. I grabbed my brother, Mike, went out the back door, hopped in the car and headed for the Fowlers. They had been so good to me and treated me like family even after the seperation with their son. I pulled into the drive-way, dust and gravel sprying. I dragged my brother to the door, Mary opened it, saw my shirt and took Mike by the hand. I said to her "hide him", she did without question.
I then went to the Anderson's, where Lou took me to the hospital. Lou told the doctors, " thats my daughter and grandchild in there, you better take good care of them . " Lou stayed with me the entire time.
To this day, I still have the scar that almost ended not just my life, but that of the fabulous boy that came six weeks later. . .
It's like your a... swingset and I am the kid who falls.. . . .
I am feeling in a Pink mood tonight. She sings what I feel.. . .most of it covering a span of time that most people would find a lifetime crammed into a shell of nothingness.
I would really like to begin, where I left off, but somehow, considering my mood, that just doesn't seem appropriate.
The Pink CD I refer to is Funhouse. . . Each song says something to me in a way that is appropriate to most phases in my life.
I my case, that was my son, James Hayden Anderson V. I did not want to name him that, but like all other factors in my marriage to Jay, I had no choice. Therefore, to distinguish him from his father and most of all his grandfather, I insisted that he be called by his middle name, Hayden.
From the moment I found out I was pregnant, even though I was scheduled to leave for Lackland Airforce Base, I was at odds. Not so much because I was against abortion, but I somehow felt that he was meant to be born and that it was my job, as his mother, to protect him, from harm, and bring him into this world.
When Jay finally realized that we were going to have a baby, he seem to "reconcile" himself to that fact.
He came over, his mother came over. . .even Big Jay graced me with his presence. . .(yee haw). I had a hard time with everything and everyone telling what was best for the baby, don't keep it, keep it, give it away. . . .make Jay marry you. . .he's a "good catch", everyone was relentless with their opinions. I was so beaten down, I just packed up and went to my aunt in Arkansas. She was the first one to tell me plain and simple. . ."a baby is a gift from God, don't slap God in the face for giving you the ability to bring life into this world".
I returned. Jay and I worked things out. He was over at my mothers house on Market street one night , we were listening to music and it was very late. While lying on the floor, he layed his hand on my stomach, leaned down and kissed it. He looked at me and said "we really are having a baby, I feel it moving inside you". . . I replied, yes. He kissed me and we actually 'made love' for the very first time. Everything, up to that point had just been sex. Two people, in love with two other people and realizing that they were, we were. . . .going to be a family and with deep likeness between us. . . parents...
We married in Miami, Oklahoma. I was wearing a second hand pale blue floral dress and he was in a shirt and tan pants. We had $150.00 in the glove box, a baby on the way and the list goes on.
As I am a 10th generation southerner, and to that point, only my parents had been divorced (yet they had married each three times), I took my vows very serious. In the old days, people with lesser feeling and sometimes unknown to one another, had married, had families, grandchildren and died together. This is what I had planned for Jay and I.
Unfortunatly, my husband, although I cared for him immensly, had other ideas.
He thought I was a stupid, inept girl, fresh off the farm, no common sense, let alone able to decipher his most secret plans. He was unfaithful from day one. He even went so far as to have his friend Max, call with all these excuses, because Donna Rector, was on the end of the line. He would go the her on the weekends and leave me, pregnant and alone, in Oklahoma with out so much as a "see ya on Sunday" . When I asked to go with him, he would tell me no. Why? Because he was going to be busy helping his dad and Jake on the farm. . . This went on for months.
While I knew what he was doing and it broke my heart because had violated every vow we made, I felt trapped....trapped in a way that at 19, I could not see anyway out of. I was heavily pregnant, it was late in the summer. I told him to take me with him so I could see my mother. He finally relented.
My mother, was to say the least, not a good host. We came home from Pizza Hut that Saturday with my little brother. I entered the house first. Randy was waiting behind the front door. He grabbed my mother and covered her mouth. I ran (as fast as I could) to the kitchen and grabbed the phone to call 911. He threw a knife at me, aimed at my stomach, it hit me just above the baby, but between the breast bone, he ran when he saw what he had done.
Obviously, both Hayden and I survived. Randy never meant to hurt me, so much as to hurt my mother. He made the sad mistake thinking that my mother would have given a shit as to whether I and my son survived. I grabbed my brother, Mike, went out the back door, hopped in the car and headed for the Fowlers. They had been so good to me and treated me like family even after the seperation with their son. I pulled into the drive-way, dust and gravel sprying. I dragged my brother to the door, Mary opened it, saw my shirt and took Mike by the hand. I said to her "hide him", she did without question.
I then went to the Anderson's, where Lou took me to the hospital. Lou told the doctors, " thats my daughter and grandchild in there, you better take good care of them . " Lou stayed with me the entire time.
To this day, I still have the scar that almost ended not just my life, but that of the fabulous boy that came six weeks later. . .
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