I usually spend every milestone in each year analyzing the events the have occurred since the last occurrence of that milestone (i.e. birthdays, anniversaries, holidays, and of course new years eve). I am not a person to ring in the new year with 150 of my closest friends...that i don't have. I am very low key and would rather snuggle up on the couch after a good meal and enjoy the a quiet evening. Since this year has had many upsets, like divorce papers that were served and a spouse that i am still not on the same page with. I rang in the new year in bed, with my dog on sedatives so that my neighbors traditional fireworks and sometimes gun shooting wouldn't cause her and I unneeded anxiety.
The new year always seems to bring new hope that this year will be MY year and according to facebook, lots of my friends feel this way as well. I do know one thing that this year will have its ups and its downs and i will turn 40. I do not feel compelled to make these new years resolutions, as i am always trying to improve myself daily. I do not want to be 20 again, ugh, i have battled myself for the last 20 years (actually longer) and it has taken far too many years to get where i am today. I have succeeded financially, professionally, and emotionally (some days more than others). I took a pay cut and gave up on a situation that was unwinnable and spent a year mourning that loss and failure. I finally was able to fulfill my dream of going back to school and received my associates with a 3.75 GPA.
I am taking a page out of my amazing aunts book and creating this blog to hopefully work through the rest of my issues that through the help of medication that i am finally able to get rid of the static in my brain to focus on. I hope this will fulfill my dream of writing, sharing my experiences to keep someone else from repeating, and working through my issues without paying for expensive therapy to have someone ask "how does that make you feel?". I can do that on my bffs backporch with a 12 pack for a lot less and not be concerned that she thinks that i am crazy, because she gets me.
Here is my history. I was born in '72 to a single mother. This was my mothers second child, she had married her high school sweetheart, the relationship was abusive so she left her husband and son behind. Supposedly, my father had asked her to marry him and she wasn't sure, so he took that as rejection and they split up. My biological father is Spanish and was the first in his generation to be born in America. I can remember meeting him a few times, but never really had a relationship with him or that side of his family. My mother met and married my adoptive father when i was very young (under the age of 5). My mother was 23 when i was born. I cannot even imagine what it would be like to be 23, on your second marriage and second child. She feared failure and was determined to make this family work. I am sure there weren't a lot of men standing in line to marry a single mother in the seventies. My adoptive was willing, he had already been married to his high school sweetheart, had 2 children, and was getting divorced, he was 11 years my mothers senior. Maybe she was looking for a father figure or thought that he was older and wiser (not the case). My adoptive father decided that living in California and being a cop was too dangerous to be married and raise a family. He found a job as a professor at a junior college in Warner, Oklahoma. This town doesn't even have a stop light.
My adoptive father comes from a family where depression and schizophrenia has ran through at least two generations. My grandmother and grandfather had four children, my adoptive father was the oldest and between child two and three (i believe) grandmother would have a tough pregnancy that would end in the death of the child. David Wellington (which my brother was named after). The family still remembered the day every year. My adoptive fathers grandmother was a strictly religious person and made my father believe that the baby died due to his sin, he has carried this anger and guilt ever since that time. My uncle and sister are both afflicted with schizophrenia.
My adoptive father suffered from severe acne growing up and he had huge ears. He felt rejected by women and spent the rest of his life trying to screw every woman he could just to prove that he wasn't the pimple faced high school dork. Women were objectified by him....that is another story for another day.
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