Dodged THAT Bullet

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Whenever people meet my current boyfriend, Jon, all I hear afterwards is how good of a guy he is, and how I really dodged a bullet with the end of my last relationship. I always kind of just nod and agree. Jon is a great guy, I love him to death (and I’ll gratefully buy his tombstone after I annoy him into an early grave), so in par with separating myself with the past, I just agree.

The sometimes a blast from the past just hammers what you already know home.

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Yup. I got that right after I had gotten out of the shower, after a long day’s work. That’s my ex boyfriend Ryan’s sister, Jessica. This message was followed up by:

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News Flash Jessica! What he did is no longer just his business, it’s everyone’s business, that’s what happens when you diddle kids.

I guess I must’ve forgotten the whole 4.5 years we were together though. I seem to remember him being unemployed or working for $6 an hour for the first 4 years until he got a union job. I also remember working 70 hours/week in management the first 2.5 years, then back to 40/week for the rest (I still work at the same job as I have when I met him). The hospital thing.. well.. Go Crohns! Maybe she thinks that I did that on purpose? Who knows. *Shrugs* Either way.

This is what she was talking about:

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I made this post after a friend of mine did, her daughter went to this school, and I was so ENRAGED that some creep did this. Just this ONE post.. I’m sure I’ve mentioned him.. like twice in the last year (since he finally picked up his dog) but I guess that’s what “all the time” means now. Why did I mention Ryan anyway? Might as well get it out there. If I’m going to get harassed about it, I might as well be truthful.

Well, he is a sexual predator listed on the Sex Offender Registry for Illinois for aggravated sexual abuse on a minor between 13-16. The offense was before I met him, and I didn’t find out the severity until years into our relationship. I should have ran when I first found out and it was “just once” with a “17 year old”.. instead of when it turned into a “15 year old”,”multiple times”, “included oral sex” and “in a home he shared with his wife”.

I had such low self esteem when I met him, I wanted to believe he was a good person so bad, that I just went with it. I kept telling myself that he was just a good guy who made a mistake. -Insert old news of years of narcissism, cheating, sex hotlines etc-

So I was wrong. That reinforced my idea that people like him cannot change, and they shouldn’t be allowed back out into the world. Some people are scum. As you can see from the post, he wasn’t the point of it. The sicko who videotaped middle schoolers was. However, a couple people found out that he was a sex offender from it.. and it spiraled out of control from there.

The conversation went on with Jessica for quite a bit, but honestly, I’m too lazy to screenshot all of it. She baited me into responding for a little while, making a feeble defense for myself as I was being told I was just desperate, he doesn’t want me (uh good?) and other crap. Honestly, I was just more in shock than anything. Eventually I just said peace out and go away. Her last text was:

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Ha. I’m a hoodrat. Most of you who know me in real life are laughing your asses off right now. Whatever. Then my phone goes off again.

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You might be able to tell.. but I kind of lost my temper. I had to go step outside for a minute. So now, I had his new girlfriend (conveniently with the same name as me.. wtf that makes 3 exes in a row!) texting me.

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So I tried honesty.. (Backstory, I had bought, with my own money a really nice copper wind-chime. The 2nd time Ryan robbed me [and threatened to come take my daughters bed too if I called the police] and I was too chicken to make a report, he took that as well to be petty. So now, when I get stuck behind his ass in traffic the joke is “I don’t miss him, but I want my fucking windchime back”.) ..and just got a snarky admission to keeping my things. Claaaassy. Did she even see the post? It’s not like I screenshot his mugshot from the registry webpage??! Whatever. Not interested.

Then…

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Right. Of course the next logical step would be to have the ringmaster of crazy text me.

All of this when I’m sitting on the couch with Jon, my after-work-cup-of-coffee in hand and kid trying to tell me about her day. All of that over an article I posted on my private page… that blew up because he tried to hide his felonies from people he knows.

I sat there and radiated hatred. My afternoon, fucked up, because those 3 decided the logical step was to barrage me with messages (because obviously that’ll un-rape that teenager). I’m sorry, it’s not my fault that he’s a rapist. It’s not my fault that he likes under-aged girls. It’s public knowledge, hence the registry. He screwed me over, and regardless of whether it’s 2 times a year or once a god damn day, anyone who does what he did to someone, more importantly destroys a 7 year old? I think I’m allowed to be bitter once in a while. So fuck all of that noise. Jesus what a headache!

So after all the shit he had put me through, the manipulation, the cheating, the screaming, and leaving my daughter and I with an empty house.. somehow the powers that be thought it would be okay to let them interject into my world again a year and a half later? Then I looked over.

Sitting there next to me, rubbing my leg, trying his best to comfort me and not hunt my ex down was a man who means the world to me. Someone who looks at me with nothing but love (and maybe a tinge of annoyance as his ribs are so fun to poke) in his eyes. A man who loves my daughter and I despite what we’ve been through.

It hit me like a freight train. I dodged a bullet.

I love a man who picks up my daughter from school just to make my day easier (note: is also legally allowed to be on school property) and to spend time with her.

I love a man who will sit down and discuss a disagreement with me, and exchange apologies with me. (Instead of screaming at me, that I was in the wrong, and at fault for it all.)

I love a man who works his ass off to cover his half of the bills, and takes great pride in what he does and has done. (Combat Vet/Manager – which I am very proud of. Was pretty hard to be proud of someone who you could google and end up on a government registry.)

I love a man who holds my hand when I hurt instead of picking fights with me while I have an NG tube.

I love a man who loves to sit and watch stupid sci-fi with me, instead of hiding an affair and 20 hours of sex-hotline phone minutes.

I love a man who loves me for who I am, who treats me with respect and like an adult. I love a man who I am not afraid of, nor would he ever give me a reason to be.

Sometimes, you need to get a reminder about how lucky you are, and how good your life really is.. even if it’s by three numbskulls who might as well be arguing through AIM in 1999.

A quick police report was made, and then we settled down and snuggled for the rest of the evening. (Yes, I made a police report, not because I actually think Jessica will harm me, but her maturity level would be on par with stealing something or egging my house or some shit. Better safe than sorry.)

Basically, it took a bit of hell and harassment to be reminded of the wonderful man who I have by my side. I love you babe, and I’m sorry if I don’t always show it. I can’t wait to see what the future holds.

Work Ethic

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Some days I have a real hard time in the mornings.  For whatever reason, since I was diagnosed with Crohns Disease 6 years ago, mornings are really rough for me.  Even when I’m in remission, I still spend more time in the bathroom than I’d like to. 

Either way, today was one of those rough days.  I was totally feeling like shit (no pun intended) and wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed.  Instead, I didn’t want to leave my girls to the wolves (also known as the Monday Craziness) so I got moving.  Sometimes it takes all I have to keep a smile on my face until 5pm.  That’s just how it is with a Chronic Illness. 

Sometimes I get bitter though.  I wish I didn’t have so much pride in my job.  I am very proud of myself for supporting my family and doing what I have to.  It’s hard watching my generation flake out when I’m doing my best to muster through a bad day. 

For instance, my sister quit her job just because she didn’t like it.  That’s her prerogative, how she’s handling it after the fact is another story though.  So when I’m hauling my butt to work, and others just quit because they don’t like what they’re doing, I get bitter.  It’s almost jealousy, but not quite.  I could never sit at home depending on someone else again, my marriage taught me that. Some days its just rough is all.

Which got me thinking.  What happened to my generations work ethic?  I grew up in a working class home, my father worked on cars.  I watched him bust ass to care for us, even though his job pissed him off.  I’m proud to have grown up with such a great father with an awesome work ethic.  It’s what fuels me through my bad days, and what I use for an example.  Hell, my mother worked an office job, similar to the position I started in… and worked it through cancer.  Pretty damned impressive if you ask me.

So while my generation may be lacking in the pride in a hard day’s work, or hell, not even working at all… or even in my sister’s case, looking down on someone who works a working class job (like both her parents and now myself do) while they have no employment of their own. I’ll take pride in the industry I work in (and love) and I only can hope that that I instill the same pride in my daughter.  I hope that by setting a good example, even if some days I’m sick and don’t particularly want to, I’ll teach her to take pride in whatever she chooses to do.  I hope I teach her to have a good work ethic and do something she enjoys as well… whether or not she has a college degree to back it up. 

I guess the moral of the story is take pride in what you do, and do it well.  If you’re lucky like me and get a job doing something you love, take it and run with it and be proud!

Actions, not words

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People expect you to put a lot of stock into the words that come out of their mouths.  If you say it, I’m supposed to believe it with out a doubt… even if your actions prove otherwise? 

Let me just clarify that for the internet.

Nope.

I’ll listen to what you have to say, but ultimately?  I’m going to judge you by what you do, how you act and the pride you take in said actions. 

If you take the time to explain to me that I shouldn’t think you’re a douche, that your priorities are in good order and that you give a shit about your family… you should probably act like it. 

A bit more than a week ago, someone freaked out on me because I suggested that maybe they had handled themselves wrong in a situation.  (It involved drinking, fighting, calling parents drunk, getting mad and putting said parents through hell, then dropping a bomb on said parents and asking them to pay bills for them.  Then going on a tangent about what horrible parents they are when the reaction received wasn’t getting money thrown at them.)

I was informed that they were completely sober, weren’t scumbags, and how they were offended that I’d rather my daughter spend time with my neighbors than them. 

Sidenote: wasn’t true, is now.

Whatever.  My daughter’s birthday was coming up and as some of you know, I’m changing medications for my Crohns Disease as it is acting up.  I have a lot on my plate and dealing with that chaos is not on my to-do list. 

On Monday, my family came over for my kids birthday party.  This person told me she was coming, along with her boyfriend.  Let’s just say, thank god I had enough sense not to tell my daughter that they were going to be there.  Of course, for a child’s birthday party, a child that she told me she loves to death, she blows off, with out a call, text, birthday card, nothing.

So here we are, a week later, and I still haven’t heard anything.  My daughter thankfully hasn’t asked, but it’s quite telling that her scumbag bio dad sent a gift but a member of her own family completely blew her off. 

I’m very lucky that I have such a wonderful family, my life has gone through some tough times and I’ve needed support badly.  Each and every time my family has been there, except one… Only when it’s convenient for her.  I’m not even upset about that though, I’m used to it after a decade.  Apparently after dragging all of us through hell and back when things aren’t picture perfect in her life, I can’t even expect her to show up for my child’s birthday party, much less even call to say happy birthday. 

I guess the emotion I’m more or less feeling is disappointment.  I can ignore being treated badly, I can pretend it doesn’t bother me when someone doesn’t care about anyone but themselves.  However when it extends to my child from someone she loves, I have to put my foot down.  Thanks to my ex husband, my daughter understands that some people are just self absorbed, but that doesn’t mean I need to expose her to them.  Family is more than blood and she deserves love. 

So after a week of waiting for a phone call, I’m ok with walking away from that portion of my life.  I have been making great strides to give my daughter a happy and healthy home, and in order to do that, sometimes you have to cut out the negative.

Adios, you may think it’s okay to treat your family like something you stepped on walking the city streets, but that doesn’t mean I have to put up with it forever.