Temporarily Out of Order

I am temporarily out of order.

I have lost my voice because I am choking on a shit sandwich.

My life, interrupted to deal with shit sandwiches.

I might even have lost what sanity I had left because I’ve allowed this shit sandwich to steal my peace.

I am tired. No, I’m exhausted.

Shortly after Christmas, the little people’s birth mommy flew in for a visit. My husband temporarily lost his mind and allowed her to take them for 5 days. Alone. Without consulting with me first.

Because of last years fiasco with her and her abusive boyfriend, she is no longer allowed to stay over night at our home and he is not allowed in our home. I no longer communicate with her. My husband handles all communication with her.

This works good because then I don’t get sucked into feeling sorry for her. This also works good because just talking to her can make a person feel crazy.

She has learned the fine art of gaining pity from others and playing the victim role, which she wears proudly. Her father, my husband, doesn’t fall for her ploys but he does give in to her at times because he still doesn’t want to deal with her. She manipulates him like crazy. She is great at making him feel guilty. She is great at blaming everyone but herself for the messes she has created. He’s angry at her for all of this and a whole lot more.

For 3 years I was stuck in the middle of their chaos and dysfunction. I was the peace maker. I was the listener. The go between. I was getting stuck with arrows from the crossfire's of their crap. One year ago, I made the choice to step out of this.

I did this so that I could just focus on loving the little’s and keeping my peace and sanity instead of on her…and allowing her chaos to affect me.

I will not listen to her lies. I will not get sucked into feeling sorry for her. I do NOT trust her. I will not accept blame for what is hers. I will no longer be used by her to manipulate her father.

I have learned that she can say and do evil with a smile on her face.

I have let go of the fantasy of us being one big happy family. I am losing hope of her ever being able to get it together in time to raise her children. Especially after last week.

On the day we met up with her, she hugged me and instantly the hair on the back of my neck stood up. It felt like I was hugging evil. I felt like vomiting.

How do you admit that you feel this way around your step daughter?

I wanted to take the little’s and run.I wanted to protect them from her. I had to let go of them because it’s not just up to me. Because who am I?

Even though I have given up the past 3 1/2 years to raise her children. Even though I have given up everything to do this. Even though I am the one they come to the most. Even though I am the one left holding the bag…I’m just the one playing “Mommy” until she gets her shit together. Right?

She came without the boyfriend which is good. She didn’t bring their 1  1/2  year old little brother because she told me that he’s too hard to handle and too fussy.

Now the little’s are back and their behaviors are over the top. Even in the best circumstances it would be difficult for them to adjust. But, this is not the best of circumstances is it? This is what I had feared and have fought against.

She took them and pulled them into her world. She twisted and undermined what they know to be the truth. She made promises of things she cannot possibly keep. She made herself the victim to her children. She made them think we are the enemy or at least that I am. She was beyond inappropriate.

One big fat shit sandwich served up to a 3 & 4 year olds. And they’ve been sharing it with me.

 How can she cause so much damage in such a short time? How can she not care about how she affects them?

It has been a nightmare. I am the one they lash out at and take out their confusion on, yet I am the one they cling to for comfort. I am the one they come to for answers. As their shit sandwich explodes all over the place, I am the one that is suppose to clean it up…I’m suppose to make it not stink anymore.

In the face of hearing “I don’t love you anymore.” I am expected to hug & kiss and make these booboo’s better.

I am expected to fix this. I am suppose to show them what to do with this shit sandwich.

I cannot even begin to explain all that went on while they were with her because every day we discover even more pieces to this crazy puzzle.

Yes, my husband has learned a valuable lesson (and in the big picture so have I)but one that comes with a high price. 

They are hurting and this kills me. I cannot take away their pain like they want me to and this breaks my heart.

I just listen, comfort with words of assurance, hug and hold and rock and remain firm. I love them fiercely against the storm that rages.

I am too tired to get you or anyone for that matter to understand the why’s, the what’s and the how’s.

I am empty. I am angry. I am sad. I am broken. I feel like I’ve been knocked down on my ass in the middle of the ring. At the moment I feel stunned. Dizzy. Immobilized.

I’m working on getting the shit sandwich unstuck from my throat so that I can breathe…so that I can start moving forward…but which direction?

I can’t even cry because this sandwich is keeping the tears stuffed inside.

I wish we had someone to guide us…for someone to know what this shit sandwich tastes like so we don’t feel so alone and isolated…to help us do “this” right.

New boundaries have to be set and new rules need to be made in order for me to stay a part of this. I hate dysfunction. I hate chaos. I hate meanness. I hate lies and manipulating.  I’ve worked hard to break free from that life.

When I married my husband I didn’t know I was signing up for “this”. Still in being married to him, I have in a sense “signed up” for “this” and am committed to him. But, if I am going to be part of “this” then someone has to start listening to me. I will not be part of dysfunction and chaos. I will only be part of healing and providing a safe haven for the little’s. I will love them for as long as God keeps them placed in my arms.

My daughter flew in a few days ago to pick up her son(the one I got to have here a couple of weeks ago). All of “this”  over shadowed my time with her. Then yesterday we drove to pick up her son from his dad, so I got one more night with him also. All of “this” over shadowed my last moments with them.

I should be driving them the 2 hours to the airport, right now, as I write this but little lady’s melt downs were so bad that I had to stay home with her. I had to stay home because she has reached her limits and just wanted me. I rocked her to sleep after my husband and little man left with them. I know my daughter understands but is disappointed.

My heart aches in the quietness of their absence. My mind is filled with guilt as it seems that “this” comes between my children and I, all too often.

So there it is. The shit sandwich of the moment. I’m working on vomiting it from my soul. I’m working on getting my voice back…on breathing normal again.  

I can’t carry “this” so I lay all of “this” down. I’m reaching for courage to not  pick it back up. I must lay this down.

My resiliency has kept me from throwing in the towel. I cannot give up.

I call on both to help me get back up and to keep dealing with these interruptions at hand.

Until I do, I will be hiding under a rock.

Dealing with “this” and putting the pieces back together is sucking the life out of me. If I am absent it is because of this and my need to hide. Forgive me. 

This is my life interrupted. I will be back.

Love & Hugs, Lori