• To you, this may just look like dinner, or maybe breakfast.

    But to me….

    This represents so much more. Growing up we called this dried beef gravy. I’ve heard some people eat it on toast and call it “shit on a single “.

    This may be my favorite meal, a lover of carbs and worshiper of gravey, this is the perfect pair!

    I don’t know how many times over my adult life, that I’ve begged and bargained for my mother to make this for me. Each time her expressing the time, above average abilities, and borderline nuisance it was. I’d buy the ingredients, clean the kitchen (Tidiness is not my strong suit), buy her coffee, feed her and my step dad then clean up after.

    Never really paying attention, because, well it was difficult, so why?

    I have an amazing husband, who is is damn near a culinary genius. I’m always trying to impress him with my cooking skills πŸ˜….

    One day he pointed out, that dried beef gravy that I would beg, barrow and steal for, was in fact, the same sausage gravy I make, but with dried beef in place of sausage!!!! What the hell??

    That woman would make such a big deal over making me a meal that had 5 ingredients in it. She allowed me to think that there was no way I’d be able to match her skills.

    Well, guess what’s for dinner tonight?!

  • I don’t know if its the stillness I am forced into right now, from a broken foot, or if its just my normal anxiety and insecurities.

    We were supposed to go to JB’s for the weekend, some time to get to know each other, let the kids run outside, fish. We were leaving Friday. But Wednesday I woke up in excruciating pain in my foot and off to the Dr.s I went. Stress fracture, just what I need to muck up my plans!

    Now I am sitting here full of all these emotions and feelings. I am worried that JB and his wife will be mad that we “wasted” their time by saying we’re coming, then not. I am feeling bitter and cheated out of having not known about this side of my family sooner.

    I have a sister only a few hours away, whos children could be wonderful cousins to my own. My children have an aunt we could easily day trip to.

    I have another sister, who may very well be my soul twin! When I see her FB posts its like she is me, in a different time and place. We both love to craft, care deeply about people, are generous, and lost to restore things. I feel so cheated when thinking about the time missed with this sister.

    I know life works as it supposed to, and I have faith in the universe. We were put together at the right time, I suppose. But some days it sucks. And today, while I am laid up on the couch, all I can do is think about the sucky’ness of it all!

  • Well, My Birthday came, My sons Birthday came, and it was like just any other day when it comes to my family. Whats weird is tho, I had a party, and my son did to.

    Other then my children and husband, my only other family member who came to my celebration, was my step father. I was so shocked and happy to see him there. He has always been the person I call when I need help, fixing something, figuring something out. hes who I would call if I was stranded. He used to drop me off at school, and my friends, he took me to the mall and was the person who went and got me pads, when I was in the 5th grade and started my period. Yes, you read that right. I did tell my mom. I was scared out of my mind. She didn’t say a word, and sent him to the store for me. I did get messages from J.B.’s family, that was nice. I can not count the effortless Facebook “happy birthdays” I got from my other family, as they would not count it from me.

    Its crazy to me.

    My brother and sister in law showed up to the babys Birthday party, and we brought granny. Its nuts to think tho, that my younger kids, have no active Grandparents, aunts/ uncles or cousins. I am so glad for our friends who we call family.

     

     

  • Some days are so much better then others. Today isn’t one of them.

    It’s cold, I’m having a hard time focusing. My partner and I aren’t getting along.

  • They say we’re a reflection of our parents.

    What does that mean? Does that cancel out the whole “Do as I say, and not as I do”? Because, a reflection is a mimicking movement, right?

    What if we don’t know our parents? What if our parents are super nice, highly functional people? What if they’re not?

    What if you suffer from addictions and your parents have never tried drugs, and are well rounded, hard working people with a healthy social life. What if your parents are a mess, and you manage to pull away and become well rounded and successful in what you do.

    If you like, you can walk with me while I try and figure this out for myself. I’ve struggled for years with feelings of abandonment, anxiety, loneliness and low self worth. I’ve also always said that you have to be responsible for your feelings and accountable for your actions. Yet, eternally I blame my parents and my upbringing for my dysfunctional state of being.

  • I have thought about this a lot, especially over the last year. I can tell you what I am, I can tell you where I am. I can give you my name, age andΒ  birth date, beyond that, I don’t know how to answer that question.

    I am hoping that by letting myself be a little more vulnerable, and typing all this jumbled mess that’s in my mind and heart, that I can figure out (for myself) who exactly I am.

     

     

  • I am still trying to figure out how to sort all this out. Exactly how to process the first 40 years of my life.

    Do I work it out in chapters, like: Year one…. Or do I sort it out by charters in my life… My mom… My dad… Or by events?

    I am not sure what I have committed myself to, by deciding to heal myself. It sure would be easier to just curl up into a ball and avoid everything… But I will continue to go to therapy each week, and I will write everything down and just try and process it and let it all go.

    I just want to be free of that hold my mother has on me.

    So if you have any tips…

     

  • The Journey Begins

    Thanks for joining me as I stumble around trying to clean up the emotions and confusion my mothers dysfunction has left in my life.

    I know what and who I am NOT, but it is time for me to figure out what and who I AM.

    I am not a professional blogger, I am literally a regular (if there is such a thing) person, who is just trying to sort though my life up to now, and undo and fix the mess my mother has left behind. There may be spelling errors, or things that don’t make sense right now. This is a process, and I am going to do my best to make sure the last half of my life, is not like the first. Its accountability time, and from this moment forward I can blame no one but myself for how my life goes. I will not be my mothers victim, I will not be her fathers victim by default, and not let her remain in any kind of control of my life.

    My “family” may not agree with my method of healing, but quite frankly…

    Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter. β€” Izaak Walton

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