Past Present Future 

I’m at such an odd place in my life. I’m sure you’ve all been there. It’s that spot where some of your friends are married, some have kids, while others are still single and living for themselves.

 When you get married, take the next step on the ladder, and start trying for kids it completely throws you when your husband leaves out of the blue and files for divorce. I was half way up that ladder and all of a sudden I found myself at the bottom. The real problem is that I’m left to decide if I want to try and climb that same ladder again or pick a whole new ladder. The even bigger problem is that I was actually pretty content with the ladder I was on. I had no idea that it wasn’t stable, that it didn’t actually reach the height I needed too, and that there were cracks. My ladder was damaged goods with a fresh coat of paint. A fresh coat of paint doesn’t fix everything unfortunately. 

A few days ago I spent the night in Toronto with my best friend, something I seem to be doing every three weeks or so now that I’m driving. He had gotten Sam Hunt tickets for my Birthday. I started drinking the moment I walked in the door and didn’t stop until 3am. In my defence he had a glass of Sangria already poured waiting for me. How does one say no to Sangria? I let loose, I partied hard. I didn’t really party or drink that much on my late teens, early twenties. I’m doing things now people my age have typically outgrown. I’m having fun though, enjoying life. 


Two days later I find myself sitting in the grass at a local park, watching kids run and play. I still watch the two boys I used to do full time care for on occasion. Their parents are at a golf tournament today. I also take them to their tee ball games when their parents work late. 


I love these boys like their my nephews, sometimes it’s challenging though. I’m 29 years old, sitting in the grass by myself. I look around and see other families. Single parents, happy couples, new babies, adorable toddlers, proud grandparents. They all look so incredibly happy. I’m sure they assume that I’m just another single mom out with her boys. I know better though. None of these kids are mine. Sure, I brought two of them here. I fed them lunch and put sunscreen on them, but they’re not mine. I didn’t dress them this morning and I won’t be putting them to bed. When I leave this park I’ll be taking them home to their parents. I’ll have a little extra money in my pocket but I’ll be going home to a kid free apartment.

It kills me to know that had things been different I’d be sitting here watching my own toddler play. Had things been different I’d be with my husband and our child enjoying the sun. We’d be descussing dinner options for tonight and which set of grandparents we should visit tomorrow. Then when our little one was all tuckered out he’d carry him up to car and we’d head home. 


It’s not an extravagant life. It’s not partying in downtown Toronto. It’s not drinking vodka soda and eating asiago dip on a patio on Church Street at 12am. It’s not kissing a girl in a bathroom while your friend does something unspeakable in a stall. It’s simple and innocent and significantly cheaper. It’s the life I thought I was supposed to be living right now. 

I’m not sure if I’ll ever meet someone. I’m not sure if I really care to ever be someone’s wife again. One thing is for sure though and that is that I want to be a mother. I’ve been tossing around the idea of being a single mom. I was fully prepared to do it before. Now that enough time has passed and I have my life somewhat together I think it’s time to revisit. 

I’ve decided to take the summer to focus on me and enjoy life. I’ve made the move into this two bedroom affordable apartment. Come the fall I’m going to start saving for donor sperm. I’m giving the universe the summer to set in motion whatever it has planned for me. 

I’m happy with everything I’ve accomplished. I’m loving this new found independent lifestyle.The truth is though that I would trade all of those nights in city for afternoons in the park. So, as Sam Hunt would say, I’m single for the summer. 

Settling Into A New City

So I am officially moved and starting to settle into the new place. It’s been interesting, a little bumpy, but long term I know this was the right decision.

The move its self was ok, until the movers tried to scam me out of more money. I had an anxiety attack and my Mom went Mama Bear on their asses. Once they were gone my Mam set up my bedroom and living room. I got internet last Wednesday. I still need to unpack the kitchen… but it’s a cute place with potential.

I had a run in with the downstairs tenant. He approached me while I was in my car at 1:00am the day after I had moved in. He was visibly drunk, drooling, and stumbling in the road. He called me every name under the sun because my dog had been crying while I was out. New place, she needs time to adjust. I would have apologized had he reacted differently. Threatening to call animal control, the city, my step dad (My step uncle lives next door) and getting me evicted seemed like his best course of action. He told me I didn’t have a job, was a crack head, and needed to get back to the city I came from as this is his house… even though he has a separate apartment in a house that’s owned by the city and converted into two units… and that I pay market share rent (full price) while he is subsidized and doesn’t work.

I was in tears and freaking out. Thankfully my step dad came over the next day to talk to him. Apparently he was incredibly sorry and wouldn’t let it happen again. A few days later he apologized to me and admitted that my dogs are very quiet and well behaved. He has three of his own who are super yappy. I ended up getting a free AC unit out of the deal… so go me.

Unfortunately the trouble doesn’t stop there. Yesterday while on our daily walk the dogs and I were attacked by a rottweiler who was not on a leash. He got into it with Swarley. Thankfully my golden is a good boy. He was limping a bit afterwards but other than that we were all ok. It was terrifying and I broke down as soon as I got them home. As a result I’ve booked him in to be neutered July 6th. He’s current on his shots but we just never felt the need to get him done. He’s well behaved, he doesn’t hump. I got Jersey done, but she was a girl. It’s going to cost $300 but hopefully the scary dog on the corner wont feel the need to assert his dominance over my sweet boy after that.

Other than a few set backs though, we’re doing well. I’m enjoying the commute so far, I’m spending more time with my brother, it’s kind of nice to have family so close. I have moments where I get worked up and wonder what I got myself into… but over all once everything is set up I think I made a smart choice. I think I’m happy.

Stuff And Things… Things And Stuff

Some how, like I typically tend to do, I landed on my feet. The lease has been signed and I have two keys for a two bedroom apartment in my wallet. Technically speaking, I have two homes right now. Bananas right? I officially move in on Saturday so I’ll talk more about this after I’m in and settled.

Instead, I’m choosing to speak about Luke. I slept with him again… and again. He slept over last Friday. I was cool about it though. I didn’t come running. We did things on my terms. I played hard to get. He didn’t just fool around and peace though. He slept over. I don’t know how I feel about it. Part of me doesn’t give a fuck. Part of me missed him.

Last night I’m jolted awake by the sound of my Golden Retriever barking. Like a fool, I don’t lock my door. He herd the first door open and was on alert. My girl is silent. She doesn’t get it. She cries when she thinks I’ve just gotten home because she’s excited to see me. Knowing that I’m already home and in bed though I guess she didn’t feel the need to join her brother and bark.

I’m frozen. I’m wearing an over sized tank top and nothing else. No bra, no panties. It’s after 3am on a week night. It’s either Luke, or someone is breaking in. My apartment is tiny. They layout is weird. There isn’t a balcony or a second exit. Even if I wanted to make a run for it while being basically naked there’s no where to go. There’s no where to hide. If it’s not Luke than I’m clearly dead. So I sit, frozen, in bed, staring at the door that connects to the stairs that leads to the outside door. Waiting for it to open. Waiting for my heart to stop racing.

If it wasn’t obvious by now, it was Luke, and not a murderer that happened to be passing by.  He comes in and asks 50 times if this is ok and if I’m mad. Relieved that I’ll live to see another day I tell him to stop babbling and get in bed. He jokes that my dogs are jerks and that he really just wanted to sneak in. I’m just happy my incredibly friendly golden retriever knew enough to alert me of stranger danger. I check my phone and sure enough there were text messages from Luke 15 minutes prior asking if he could sleep over.

Luke tends to babble, like I do. He also has similar anxiety issues that I have. Our banter can be pretty entertaining. I cuddle into him while rubbing his chest like I typically do and he starts to worry.

Luke: What if I snook in here and you had another guy in your bed?

Me: I don’t know. That’d rank pretty high on the awkward scale

Luke: What would you do?

Me: I don’t know. Start locking my door?

Luke: You can’t do this with anyone else ok? Cuddling, and rubbing my chest. That’s our thing. You can’t.

Me: Well, there isn’t another guy in the picture at the moment so I think you’re safe for now.

This little exchange left me feeling a little weird. You can’t lock down my amazing cuddle skills. I’m sorry but if I meet someone that I connect with am I just suppose to say “Sorry, you’re a great guy, but I promised my fuck buddy who can’t commit that I wouldn’t cuddle with other guys” Like seriously? What was he thinking?

We had sex. Good, solid, 10/10, best sex I’ve ever had sober sex. It just didn’t end. Multiple positions. Have you ever had something feel so amazing that you think you might actually cry? Yeah, that good. I didn’t even give him a blow job. I just got out of this world sex that I can’t stop thinking about.

He called me sexy. When he first crawled into bed. He was super attentive. I joked about how he wouldn’t be able to pop by once I move as I was further away. He responds with *New City Name* isn’t that far away. I’m still going to come in and sneak into your bed. Later a few hours later he called me Babe while I was on top, something I don’t like to do often, and asked if I was ok and if it was good for me.

What the fuck is happening here? What is he doing? What is he thinking? I can’t let this keep happening. I love the sex, and I’m definitely not going to put a stop to that… but unless he commits I can’t fall down that rabbit hole again. No more feelings. We vibe so well but I can’t sit around hoping he’ll change his mind.

Fuck Luke. What are you doing to me????

SHORTEST RELATIONSHIP EVER

Italy asked me to be his girlfriend. Two days later he finds out that he’s been given a promotion running the Montreal location…. that happens to be seven hours away from me. He decided it would be best if we no longer speak. Lovely. It’s cool though. I’ll just keep playing with Luke for the time being.

Next please.

Drowning On The Inside

To say that I am overwhelmed would be an understatement. I’m trying so incredibly hard to keep everything together but it’s proving to be an impossible task. It feels like I find a solution to one problem and then 50 more pop up… like weeds. Some how, some way, I manage to find a way to make it through, but this time I’m not sure if I will.  It always comes down to money.

I made the difficult choice to move in order to be more financially stable. The utilities in my current apartment were bleeding me dry. I was getting deeper into debt with each passing month. Moving isn’t cheap though. It’s a long term solution but provides short term challenges.

I need $1,400 by May 24th for first and last month’s rent. I need $300-$400 to pay for a mover. I also need to purchase furniture and a microwave.

In addition to that I currently owe $500 in back rent on my current apartment. $150 for the last hydro bill. $75 for my past due internet bill, $240 for my past due cell phone bill. I currently have $300 in my account. That isn’t going to get me very far.

It gets better though. The AC isn’t working in my little car. Since I still have 25 000km left on the warranty I ask service to take a look. Turns out there’s about $1000 worth of repairs that need to be done that should have been done after my accident last October. The one that forced me to enter a consumer proposal in order to manage the repairs because insurance wouldn’t cover it… because I was broke and missed payment.  I’ve been driving around for 7.5 months with a shredded S belt, among other things. I drove to and from Montreal, a 7 hour drive one way, thinking my car was in great shape.

So, in a week and a half I’m likely to be homeless and I can’t even live in my car because she’s busted up. I’m at my breaking point. In the grand scheme of things it doesn’t seem like that much but when you don’t have it, and no way of getting it you find your self getting desperate. I’m back to having panic attacks even though I’m still seeing my counselor and taking my anxiety meds. I’m freaking out and on the verge of tears on the regular. I just honestly don’t see an answer as to how to get past this… and that’s just the money side of things.

For those of you who followed me before my divorce you know I’ve had to climb mountains to overcome the mess my former husband left me in. You know how hard I’ve worked and how far I’ve come. I’ve accomplished things I never thought I would. I’m tired though. So so tired. I can’t keep this up. There isn’t enough room in my car for all my stuff and my dogs. I just don’t know what to do but to sit here and cry.

When it rains, it pours.

I did a thing…

Italy blew me off twice in one week. Not intentionally I guess but it’s way too early in to be doing that. The first time he had a work emergency and the second he couldn’t get away from family. Both things are understandable but I’m not about to sit around waiting on someone again like I did with my former husband. I got upset and annoyed that plans that he initiated fell through twice in a row. So I slept with Luke… because I am an awful, terrible, self destructive person. At this point in time I don’t even give a fuck.

BIG CITY SLAMS BOYS

I’ve been off my game lately. I’m miserable and stressed out and overwhelmed. The obvious solution to that problem is a night of binge drinking with my best friend. Now that’s he’s back in Toronto from living abroad, and I have a car, I find that we’re seeing each other much more frequently now. I was actually just out there two weeks prior.

City life is expensive as fuck. I honestly don’t understand how he survives out there. I was his date to a birthday dinner/bar night for his friend’s 30th Birthday. We shared a cheese pizza, a garden salad and a bottle of wine and we paid $65 a piece… We literally shared a meal meant for one person. At the first bar the round of drinks I paid for was $48 which included 2 shots of vodka and 2 double vodka sodas. Not something I can swing on a regular basis, especially since I’m super broke right now. Thankfully I have $90 in babysitting money.

I always feel better in the city with Tyson though. We get dressed up we go out and live live. I experience things I wouldn’t have experienced on my own. For 18 hours I was happier than happy and without a care in the world. I looked hot, I danced my ass off, I drank, I had fun. Now I’m back in the real world and miserable and stressed out and anxious. I just need to get through May.

 

Well, Hello There

Luke messaged me yesterday morning. First time in three weeks. Made small talk, acted like he was actually interested in what’s going on in my life. Then proceeded to try and convince me to call in late to work to “hang out” and that he would buy me breakfast.

Obviously I said no, politely of course. I explained that I needed to be at work and that I was counting calories and didn’t need his breakfast. He then continues to make small talk about how hard I’m working and well I’m doing at this weight loss thing… and then proceeds to ask me again

Luke: Do you want to see me later?

Me: Possibly

Luke: Oh

Me: What are your intentions?

Luke. Cuddle. Fuck. Blowjob

Me: I thought you didn’t want that

Luke: Today I do

I left it at that. It’s been three weeks since I abruptly grabbed my keys and left his apartment without saying a word. I cried the whole way home. I felt dirty and repulsive and not worthy of anyone. Three weeks have gone by after he said that he only wanted blow jobs from me and he thinks he can convince me to miss work to satisfy him in exchange for breakfast? Seriously?

No thank you Luke. No thank you.

Set To Self Destruct

I went on a date last Friday. Like an actual legitimate date. We met on plenty of fish. When it seemed like we might click we exchanged numbers and texted back and fourth, then switched to phone calls which lead to a date surprisingly enough.

This wasn’t my typical fuck boy date though. This particular gentleman caller is 36 years old, Italian, and very old fashioned. We weren’t just meeting for coffee down the street from my work where I could easily escape. He wanted to take me out on an actual real live date at a nice restaurant where he would pay. I was a little floored to be honest. I took it as an opportunity to dress up a little and put in some effort. I even attempted this hair braid headband thing I saw in a tutorial video on facebook.

Instead of meeting at the restaurant he picked me up at home. He greeted me at my front door with flowers, my favorite actually, and chocolates.  He opened the car door for me and held doors at every opportunity that arose. We had great conversation the entire night. He politely spoke up for me when my order came out wrong when I was going to let it slide. When the bill came he reached for it right away not even giving me the chance to offer to pay. At the end of the night he walked me to my door and gave me a hug. He was a perfect gentleman.

We’ve been texting non stop ever since and have had lengthy telephone conversations every night. He’s an incredibly sweet guy who genuinely feels that he struck a home run by finding me. He’s so amazing that it’s almost intimidating. I almost feel like I’m not worthy of this kind of kindness and courtship. I don’t deserve it. I’m not wholesome and sweet. I’m divorced. My former husband ran from me without so much as a good bye. Luke decided I was only good enough for blow jobs. My first serious relationship ended with him telling me that I wasn’t wife material. I’m damaged goods.

I think maybe I’m self sabotaging. Someone treating me the way you’d want to be treated feels foreign, wrong even. It’s like I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop. A co worker told me that she was a firm believer that everything happens for a reason. Things end with Luke and then I meet the gentleman caller, we’ll call him Italy. The day of our first date I receive the stamped paperwork that states that 31 days after April 24th 2017 my former husband and I are officially divorced. My co worker feels these are signs.

I’m not sure if I believe in signs but I do know that there’s a pretty good chance I’m going to fuck this up some how. I always do.

Goals And Stuff

So as I mentioned in a earlier post, I’m working on loosing more weight. I had been going to the gym before Luke told me I was too fat to fuck but I wasn’t eating enough or the right things. Apparently weight loss is 20% working out and 80% diet. I guess that explains How I went from 320lbs to 260lbs.

Before

 

After

 

I can’t be too proud of that massive change. Some people eat when they’re depressed. I don’t. My husband left me and I lost over 60lbs. Those before pictures make me cringe. The only upside to looking so repulsive on my wedding day is that I’ll hopefully get the chance to do it again and look a million times better. I was not proud to hang those bad boys on the wall.

So I lost weight, gained confidence, and even found the courage to buy a fatkini from Torrid. I was killing it.  Unfortunately over the last year I put roughly 15lbs back on. Around my birthday back in March I started to notice my jeans fitting a little tighter and my face looked a little pudgier.

Now

 

I wouldn’t say I feel repulsive but I’m for sure not happy. I can still clean up well but I have a long ways to go. So I joined this 12 week challenge. There’s about 50 women participating, all who paid $10 to join. Who ever makes the most progress as voted by the group wins the pot. My starting weight for this challenge was 275.4 lbs as of Tuesday May 2nd.

I’ve stepped up my work out routine, upped my water intake, and am planning out my meals and logging everything out in the My Fitness Pal app. As of yesterday, Thursday May 4th, I weighed in at 274.6 lbs. I’m not sure if it’s my hard work, the fact that I’m eating all three meals and a snack, or that all of this water is making me pee every 30 minutes… but I’m excited. It’s not much, but it’s something. It’s a start. It’s proof that if I keep going, keep working, keep trying, that this might make a positive difference.

I want to look good naked. I want my future partner to be able to pick me up. I want to be on top during sex and not feel disgusting. I want to shop at stores that don’t specialize in plus size. I want to buy decent clothes that don’t cost an arm and a leg. I want to wear a bikini and look hot. I want to get pregnant and have an adorable baby bump. I want to run and play with my kids and be able to keep up with them. I want to be a positive role model for them. I want a long and happy life.

So I’m doing this. I’m not giving up. I’ve got this… I think.