Wednesday, May 16, 2018

I watched you die before my eyes.

I watched you die right before my eyes and swore to God to take my life to keep you alive. Years I spent wondering what happened. Because when were just kids I could never had imagined.
But then you cast a spell and somewhere, something dark and Satan’s greatest trick was keeping us apart. And the power took over. Some call it addiction. And i call you on the phone praying for you to listen. But you couldn’t hear me. It was like you were comatose and every time I’d have a nightmare right before my eyes. And I’d never thought you would pray for death but the thought of you dying, steals the breath from my chest. Cause I’m your sister and you’re supposed to protect me. But drugs took my brother and made him neglect me. Then the meth stepped in and entranced you with its charm. And your eyes sunk in and I knew you couldn’t see me. But you said you had visions that you could see so clearly. And I tried to pull you out. My hands deep into the ground. But you passed away with no one around. And I prayed at your grave... sobbing, I’d grieved your life because I was mourning my brother and my brother was still alive. But you were buried., your ribs stuck to your skin. And I wondered was I ever going to see you again. And I screamed at God. Is this really your plan??? To give this gift to me and take it away again and again.???? Is this why you gave him life just to watch him suffer? Why did you make me a sister, just to take my brother? I don’t accept this. You made him for a purpose to be a father to his kids and son and a brother. And I know he’s thinking right now that he doesn’t deserve it. Because I thought that too when he hurt my daughter. When he involved her in his madness and she knew more than she should. But God if you can hear me then show him there’s hope.
Then something happened. My brother started to see and I had to take a second glance cause YOU were looking back at me. And I watched you come alive. Now you call us on the phone. You involve us in your healing and you’re no longer alone. I hope you found this peace, no longer a drug and you found her love and hope it’s enough.  And God gave you a vision, it’s you with your kids, our parents and us. I want to sit back so amazed and the progress you’ve made. I want to finally sleep with no weight on my chest, that my brother will be here and doing his best. And God I want to thank you for giving me back my brother. We can sleep again knowing we have each other.

Thursday, February 15, 2018

He was someone who was unable to love someone other than himself. I am not sure that he even loved himself. He was full of insecurities and self-doubts that he was projecting on others. He gained his self-confidence and importance through the admiration of others.
I lost myself in the process of loving a narcissistic man.
From a happy, confident, and strong woman, I became an anxious, depressed, and weak little girl. I believed that I was worthless to be loved and I saw negativity everywhere.

Wednesday, August 2, 2017

One Year After the Affair

The first year was the emotional rollercoaster year. The first year was full of tears. I cried on my way to work on a daily basis. I cried at work. I cried at night when the house was dark and quiet. I cried as I watched my husband with our children acting as if nothing had happened. I cried until I became numb. The first year was full of triggers. Everything disgusted me. The way he breathed, the way he ate, the way he dresses, the way he went out as if it was no big deal.  By the end of year one I was beginning to focus on learning to live with the affair and not letting it control my emotions. Just living with it. 

Tuesday, March 17, 2015

Surviving an Affair.

If you have to erase messages, email or numbers because you know your spouse will not approve or it will upset them, then you have already cheated, emotionally. Emotional cheating is worse, sometimes, than sexual cheating. To CHOOSE someone over your spouse. To work at hiding the affair, is harder than walking away from starting the affair and working to save your marriage. If you worked as hard at saving your marriage as you did at hiding the affair, you wouldn't be in the situation. The cheated spouse may have suspected long before the affair began, that they were losing their spouse, so they shut themselves off. Meaning, why work at something if they don't care enough to be there. Staying away for long periods, for unaccounted hours or days, looking for excuses to be away, has shut the cheated spouse off from reality. A deep depression sets in. They throw themselves into something where they feel appreciated, loved or admired. They put there whole selves into something, to feel that emotional connection, to hide the pain and sadness. The cheated spouse often finds an alternative to cheating, even when given the chance. They often throw themselves into a hobby, hovering over their children, or other family members or obsessing about their work. If deciding to keep the marriage together, The cheated spouse often feels they need to overcompensate by prostituting their integrity and forgiving too quickly. Not making the cheating spouse earn the trust and respect back. Thus, leaving the cheating spouse to feel invincible. They can't be touched, they can have their cake and eat it too. The cheating spouse will often end the affair, not because they want to, but because they got caught. They will wait for a better time to continue the affair. The affair will most likely continue if the cheated spouse let's their guard down. The cheating spouse felt a sense of entitlement. They were driven, they were drawn, they were lured, they were pushed. The cheating spouse CHOSE to cheat. It doesn't just happen. They chose to continue, they chose to hide, they chose to lie, they chose to choose SOMEONE else over their spouse. They absolutely meant for it to happen or else it wouldn't have happened. A one night stand is completely different than a sexual and emotional affair. The cheated spouse feels defeated, unloved, undesirable, and unwanted. It causes, sometimes, physical or emotional illnesses on the cheated spouse. The cheated spouse will often beg for forgiveness when in fact, they are being played. They are being made to believe what they did was the DIRECT cause of this affair. The cheating spouse continuously put themselves in the situation of a potential affair. Each time an omitted or false statement exited their mouth. Each time they had an excuse for their actions.

Friday, December 6, 2013

No one wants me around

So, as you know my son was diagnosed with Aspergers a few summers ago and a few months ago with ADHD. We'll, we knew it was coming shortly after the Aspergers diagnosis. It just wasn't all adding up. There was more to it then JUST Aspergers.  The impulse control, the social issues, the calling out, the no friends. No one wanted him around. No one understands him. He tries to hang, they push him away. He gets angry and acts out. He acts out because he is unwanted, unloved and invalidated. They actually make things up about him to keep him away. And because of his "issues" most people just say, it's you Bubba, you're the problem. Not them, not understanding him, not their immaturity, not their ignorance. It's not their job to understand or accept him. You can't force people to deal with or accept another person.  So, we finally resorted to medication because he fell behind in school. I never wanted to be one of those mothers who medicate their kids and turn them into a zombie. I always thought children diagnosed with ADHD just needed their ass beat. Until I met my own son. But this med was the opposite. Three weeks on meds and we notice, his counselor notices, his teachers notice. He has a chart in school and the marks go to 14 in the  and 14 in the pm.  The marks went from 1's and 3's to 13's and 14's.  So, we think wow, this is a miracle. But this is not without mishaps. Today at my nephews birthday party. It's all going fine when all of a sudden my nephew comes upstairs and says, "you gotta do something about Bubba, he's hitting my friends and spitting on them." Holy Crap, my son is hitting strangers and spitting in them. How horrible. Shocked and appalled, I run downstairs and grab him and get him out of there. He tells me over and over that he didn't do it. That he was just asking over and over again if he could play the new video gaming system with them but they were ignoring h and when he was getting upset they were laughing and making fun of him. But who believes him. No one. I take him home. And go back to get my other children once I settle him down. In the meantime, the friends don't know he leaves and they call his name in a very strange voice. Why, if you don't want him around, why, why, are you calling his name in a silly voice???? To rile him up again, so he can get in trouble again? What the fuck is wrong with people?  He is a little boy. Not a circus freak!!!!!!!!!  People feel sorry for me.  Don't feel sorry for. I understand him. You don't and choose not to. They want to know why he can't sit still!!! They wonder where his impulse control is. It's not there. Its his brain. It misfires. I am so tired of explaining to people. So so so tired of explaining why my son does what he does. The medication can only do so much and it does wear off. All day long he is amazing. One thing happens and it all spirals. It goes to shit!!!! I upset my sister, my daughters and myself. We became topic of conversation after we left.  Tired of my son being topic of conversation. So very tired of it. Im tired of people pushing him away. I'm tired of people's ignorance of autism, Aspergers and ADHD. Until my son was born I didn't believe ADHD existed. I tell you people, it does and it makes him sad, it makes him feel alone and very isolated. He doesn't have a single friend in the world and at age 9, I, his mom, am his only friend. And that's sad. He doesn't feel as if people love him. Especially his only male cousin remotely close to him. How can I explain to my son why his is the way he his. How do you explain to this beautiful, funny amazing boy why he does what he does.  How do I beat it into people's heads that he's not a bad boy and to stop pushing him away.  I think if these children felt understood or validated, they wouldn't feel the need to bother people. They wouldn't have that need because they felt included.  With me blood is thicker than water at anytime. Never treat anyone like shit. Never deliberately embarrass someone, especially your family. Never tell lies about them. Never  turn your back on your family. Always be there for them. Never think of them as a nuisance. But think of them as an amazing, wonderful gift from God. Everyone is different. I bet if you got to know my son, you would think he was a really cool kid. He's smart, he's funny and his vocabulary is large. He understands more than you think. He has feeling and they hurt just as much as yours do when they are stomped all over.

Sunday, July 7, 2013

Asbergers and an 8 Year Old

     So, my son wanted to be topic of this next blog. OK Bubba, here you go. My son Eric who is 8 1/2 years old, was diagnosed with Asbergers and ADHD last summer. It didn't come as a shock to us' we always new he was different and I am reminded of one of his idiosyncrasies every time I listen to him yell at his video games like they were real people. These are his friends. He doesn't make friends easily. He has a very select few. Most parents don't get him and think he is just a bad kid, so he is never invited to anything. Most kids his age have no interest in talking about the Titanic, World War II and The Attack on Pearl Harbor. When he starts talking about it, most kids just call him a weirdo or dumb and walk away. They call him names and say mean things to him. Sometimes things I have to explain to him and that is sad. He doesn't like to be touched or hugged unless its by me. But he loves to hang on people and push their buttons. He hangs on and kicks and bugs the hell out of my daughter's friends and pretty much drives them away and that's sad too. Sometimes I feel I have no control. He doesn't play well with others and sometimes that stops me from bringing him places. It really limits where we go and what we do. The worst part is the looks from other adults. who just don't get it. They look at him in disgust like why isn't he just being good, why is he doing that and why is he so annoying. I see it, the looks and stares. It saddens me and makes me not want to bring him to those places.
     He always says to me, "Mommy, teach me how to be good. Teach me how to make friends." I try, but really, it does no good. I see him making progress than the next day, its two steps backwards. He is funny and kind and can memorize anything he loves. He loves skits, plays and musicals. I hope he grows up to be a famous actor someday; that'll show everyone.  He loves video games, singing and cars. He is finally getting into Legos. Damn, those are expensive toys.  He hates to takes baths and clean his room. In that aspect, I guess he is just like every other 8 year old boy in the world. I love to listen to him after he has memorized a skit on YouTube. He gets so excited about it.

     He loves baseball and football and he may not be the best player in the world but he shows up, loves to be catcher, be up to bat and tackle. He lives to tackle. Football season is coming up and he can't wait. Bribes of  a McDonald's Happy Meal, if his mind starts wondering, makes him pay attention more in football. HA HA. I get nervous of him hurting someone, which is the exact opposite of most moms. Most moms are worried about their kid getting hurt. It's like mine feels no pain.

     He hates different textured food and only likes breaded chicken; any kind of breaded chicken as long as it has no bones. He hates iced tea of any kind, gags and the smallest things, even a fuzzy on the floor. Will not eat a vegetable unless it is a cucumber and its covered in dip, garlic Italian. He loves noodles, especially with white cheese. He hates trying new things, because he is already sure that he will not like it. Bribery doesn't work with food. It's a daily struggle. But if you say pizza, he is all over it. But take off the cheese and give him a pile of ketchup to dip it in. Gross.

     He jumps, climbs, hangs, dives and Everyday is a challenge. Everyday is a struggle. But, everyday is a new and beautiful discovery of something else my Bubba can teach me or the world. Out of the mouths of my babe, everyone can roast beef, but no one can pee soup!!!

Monday, July 1, 2013

My Reality

~~~~~Tracy Collado Detrick Feb, 2011
I try not to watch those reality shows. To me, Survivor is my very small business trying not to get swallowed up by those huge conglomerates that treat consumers like they are stupid. Amazing Race is trying to beat the deposit of that store rent check to the bank before it posts. Bachelorette, is a 14 yr old holding hands on my couch with her beau. American Idol is a 12 yr old trying out for the middle school musical. Real World is a six yr old starting speech class because he can’t say L's, R's and has a lisp. Heroes is a husband who has to put a bullet proof vest on everyday to go to work, to try and keep the streets safe from lawbreaking scumbags who have no concern for anyone but themselves!! And Where I come from, Housewives don’t act like they do on TV. They're too busy wiping the chocolate off of a 6 yr olds face while practicing his letters. It's consoling a 12 yr olds heart after only getting a background part. It's keeping an eye, yes, keeping and eye on a 14 yr old holding hands on the couch with her beau, and it’s  kissing her own personal Hero goodbye as he heads off the relieve the guy before him at the department.  And dancing with the stars is sweeping my little Bubba off his feet in the kitchen while we are making brownies that will be gobbled up in five minutes. And singing like no one is watching all the while a nine year old dog, who sometimes thinks he's a puppy, then realizes later that he is not, jumps and barks to the music. That's my little dose of daily reality!!!


 ~~~~~Tracy Collado Detrick July, 2013

How my life has changed in those two and a half short years. I still don’t watch those reality shows. We no longer play the Amazing Race with our business rent check, because the bad economy has shut down our business. Bachelorette no longer is played at our house. My girls are much too busy with sports, work and volunteering to have boys on their mind all the time. After two broken hearts, they have decided to play Survivor and make it on their own. Thank God. American Idol is still alive and well, as my now almost 15 yr old, is our families entertainment, followed closely by my almost 9 year old. The Real World has settled in with a diagnosis of Asbergers and dealing everyday, with his reality, is a show in itself.  I still watch my Hero leave the house everyday, in his bullet proof vest, to go and relieve the guy before him to protect and serve the people that have absolutely no respect for them and the law. But now he does it more tired and more cynically and is more resentful of people and life around him. He has seen too much to be the happy go lucky guy he used to be. He has been hardened with that life; in turn, it has hardened me. It is a struggle each day to stay positive in a world you work so hard to change, but see no change in sight.  We no longer even discuss Housewives, not that it was ever close to my life anyway. I am in the work force; once again, if that’s what you want to call it. Hey, I am contributing. That’s all that matters, right now. I am still wiping chocolate of my 8 ½ yr olds face, I am still consoling my almost 15 yr old after not getting a part in the musical at all or a solo in the competition, even though, if you have ever heard her sing, you’d think the chorus leader was off his rocker!!!  She is The Voice of our family. And now I am carting my almost 17 yr old to Runway practice, work, photo shoots and her friend’s houses that have stuck by her after all that. We still dance and sing like no one is watching while making brownies that we know will be gobbled up in five minutes. All the while my 11 ½ year old dog jumps, still forgetting he isn’t a puppy anymore, but doing it with our new family member, our adopted Pit. My reality isn’t ideal, but it’s mine and I wouldn’t trade it in to be a Millionaire.