Make Love, Not War

Lately, I've been witness to a number of my friends' relationships falling apart. Marriages ending, couples breaking up after years together, and then my own recent upset. It seems like everywhere I turn someone else is falling out of love. It makes me wonder what happened to the days when people were more prone to work at getting back to the core of what made them fall in love in the first place and rediscover each other again instead of just calling it quits at the first sign of trouble. Love is not easy. It's hard. It's a whole lot of work, but nothing worth it ever comes without some struggle, otherwise you wouldn't appreciate the good of it as much. At least that's how I see it. When it comes down to it, if two people truly love each other and both of them want to make it work, then it will. It's as simple as that. Life is hard. Your partner should be your best battle buddy to fight through the hard times with, not an additional source of strife. Everyone makes mistakes, but it takes a lot more courage to forgive and move forward than it does to just play the blame game and take off. You learn from your mistakes and you move on. Let the past go. You can't change what happened, but you can take away some knowledge from the experience and make the future better for you both. I've made my lion's share of mistakes and gave up on relationships, too but I really didn't understand a lot of the things about love and life that I do now.

My Grandparents were married for over 60 years. My Grandmother dropped out of 10th grade to marry my Grandfather in the early 40's and I'm sure they dealt with many hard times, especially since they had 4 children as well. They  were in their 80's and still in love. I'm sure they pissed each other off from time to time, but at the end of the day, when it came down to it, they literally couldn't live without each other. My Grandmother died in June of 2002. My Grandfather was heartbroken and even though he had beat cancer numerous times, he deteriorated quickly without my Grandmother and passed away just one year later in July of 2003. I want to know where that kind of love is today. Does it still exist? I'd like to believe it does and that one day, that will happen for me, too.

The Battle Rages On

Heartbreak. It's never easy. No matter how much you try to listen to the "it's for the best"s and "he doesn't deserve you"s, it still hurts for a while. It's the age old battle of head versus heart. Your head knows that you deserve better. Your head knows that it was inevitable that he was going to hurt you again. Your head knew it was only a matter of time before he walked away from his family again. But your heart, your cruel, hopeful and wishful heart, silences your better judgement. Makes you think you're just worrying for nothing. Makes you see all of the good and none of the bad. Makes you think that somehow, he's changed and this time was really going to be different. And no matter how many times your heart has been broken in the past, it doesn't soften the blow that comes when it ends again. It hits you like a Mack truck. Blindsides you, leaving your head spinning and trying to figure out what went wrong. It never gets any easier, no matter how many times you go through it. You start to wonder what's wrong with you. You doubt yourself and your self-worth so horribly that you feel reduced to a sheer sliver of the person you thought you once were. You cry. You scream. You get angry, rinse and repeat.

Until one day, you wake up and the hurt doesn't hurt so bad anymore. There's no more searing sharp pains throughout your body making you wish you hadn't woken up at all because the pain is just too much to bear. You start to remember why you're worth more than they gave you credit for and stop remembering and missing the times and the things of the past. You can actually smile and mean it again. You no longer walk with your head down and teardrops falling on your shoes. You no longer look at his Facebook, Twitter, or whatever site you so stupidly stalked him on to see if maybe he was regretting it and was hurting as much as you. You stop waiting for the text, the phone call, the IM, the e-mail that says "I'm miserable without you, I'm sorry, please give me another chance." You stop looking for his car when you're driving down the road. Eventually you start to remember that there is life out there still, and that there are many other people who would be honored and blessed to have you by their side. The scars are still on your heart, but the wounds are no longer fresh. You'll never forget what caused them, but they're there to remind you that you shouldn't make the same mistakes again. Your pain was real, but the pieces of your heart slowly start to come back together. Your friends, your family, your children are all there to help you put the pieces back together and are the glue that holds them in place when it just wants to fall apart on it's own. You may lock your precious heart way down deep inside of you again for a while, but it's too wonderful of a treasure to keep to yourself for too long. Someday, someone will come along who is worthy of it and would never dream of mistreating it the way it had been before. They will hold your heart inside theirs and protect it as if breaking it would mean breaking their own. No matter how scarred, battered or tattered it may be, it's still worth something to someone no matter how carelessly others have treated it in the past and thrown it away.

It takes time to get to that point. It's not easy. I am trying to remind myself that it will get easier, but right now, I'm struggling to believe my own words and take my own advice. My heart is shattered. My life is no longer what I thought it once was, and I'm trying hard to learn to adjust to it. I need time to heal, time to breathe. Time to figure it all out for myself, but no matter how lonely I get sometimes, I know I'm never alone. I have the unconditional love of three beautiful children and that will never change. To them, I am the world. And if someone should someday come along and want to share it with us... then lucky them, but my family is precious and it's going to take a very special person for me to be willing to share them with someone else again.

Love hurts sometimes, but anything worth having is never gained easily. While I may be taking a time out so my heart can heal, I'm still in this fight. I've never been known to give up easily, and this time is not going to be any different.

Gone

I wrote a new song. Trying to put some music to it.
These are the lyrics to it. Tell me what you think.

Gone - Jennifer Knapp

No more games
I'm done with this fight
Coming out of the shadows 
and into the light


Can't face the fear
That I'm not what you wanted
I'll just say goodbye
So I'm no longer taunted

CHORUS
Wake me from this nightmare
All I want is something to feel 
I'm drowning inside your heart
And this pain is so real


I just can't accept it
Don't wanna regret it
Flying through darkness
Is this my own sentence?


Who are you to deny me?
You don't even know who I am
So just walk by me
I won't let you break me again


CHORUS
Wake me from this nightmare
All I want is something to feel
I'm drowning inside your heart
And this pain is so real


So real. So real. 
When is it my time to heal?
So long, so long.
No more tears, my darling I'm 
Gone.

___________________________________
These lyrics are property of Jennifer Knapp. Any unauthorized reproduction or copying of them is strictly prohibited.
Contact me for further information.

My (Football) Life is OVER...

The announcement was made today that my beloved Tim Tebow, quarterback of the Denver Broncos, and youngest ever person to win the Heisman Trophy in 2007, was traded to the New York Jets. This news may as well have been the same as driving a knife into my heart. I have been a Tebow fan since his days as a Florida Gator, but there is no way I could ever be a Jets fan. I just can't do it. And as much as I want to let my love for him overcome my hate of the Jets, it just isn't meant to be. Not only does this suck, but it also adds an additional level of disdain for my dislike of Peyton Manning for taking his starting quarterback spot in Denver, a city I have been longing to move to for a while now. I think I may as well just forgo football altogether next year, even though I could still just root for my home team, The Cleveland Browns. Another hopeless cause if you ask me. I love my Browns to death, but they never do very well. I hope they prove me wrong, but I've just about lost all hope in the NFL for now. Good Luck, Tebow. You're gonna need it. That horrid city is going to eat you alive.

I Want To Join The Mile High Club...

I realize my blog is way overdue for an update. I've been really busy lately with kids and traveling and school. It's madness and I love it, most of the time. I figured now is as good of a time as any to throw it out there what's been up lately, so enjoy!

My littlest diva has been struggling with repeated ear infections since she was born. Finally, we got her into the ENT at Nemours Children's Hospital in Jacksonville. I was concerned about her hearing because she sometimes does not respond to me when I talk to her or call to her. I wondered if she could really hear me and was just ignoring me or if the fact that her eardrum has burst twice has lead to some kind of permanent hearing damage. They ran a series of hearing tests on her, including one where we were put into a sound proof room and then she was supposed to respond to the noises by looking in the direction from which they came. The technician started out at a normal hearing level and then worked her way down all the way to a quiet whisper. My daughter EXCELLED at that test, meaning she was just being a brat and choosing to ignore me. Thank God for that, but next time she chooses to ignore me I'll know she is fully capable of hearing what I'm saying. But anyhoo, she saw the doctor and he agreed that she needs to have irrigation tubes placed in each ear for about a year. It's a very minor procedure and she will be able to return to daycare the next day. I'm nervous about my 16 month old having surgery, but I'm sure she will be fine.

My older diva is doing well in Pre-K. She gets smarter by the day. My friend and I laugh because she is not very humble at all. It's the Italian Princess in her, I swear. If you tell her she is beautiful or that she looks pretty today, she doesn't shy away or just say thank you. No, not my diva. She says, "I know". I mean, really?! She's FOUR. She wants to wear "heel shoes" and dresses every day, but comes home from preschool looking like a ragamuffin that's been rolling in dirt all day. I have to make her wear pants under her dresses because she has no idea how to act like a lady even if she insists on looking like and dressing like royalty every day.

My son, the oldest of my three, is in third grade and about to make his first communion. He has his outfit ready and everything, but I can't bring myself to try it on him because I will most likely cry. He's almost as tall as my shoulders now. He's a computer geek and spends most of his free time on his laptop playing Roblox or Minecraft. I had him do real chores for the first time the other day and had him vacuum and take out the trash. He vacuumed for maybe ten minutes and broke the brush on the thing. So much for that! He's the best big brother ever though and helps me take care of the girls all the time. He ties his sisters' shoes for them or gets them a drink or plays with them when they want him to. Sometimes he will even read them a book. I can't wait to see how close they will be when they are all older.

I've been really busy with school, and I'm struggling to keep up. I'm almost done with my A.S. degree in Health Information Technology and should be totally finished by October. It's getting harder as the semesters pass, but I'm managing to maintain my 4.0 GPA. It's no easy feat. I'm in Medical Coding and Billing right now and it's harder than I expected but I'll push through this class just like I have all others. I also recently visited a friend in Colorado and absolutely and completely fell in love with Denver and the mountains while I was there. I want to live out there so bad. I'm going to eventually get there sooner than later if possible. I cried on my way to the airport to go home I loved it there so much.Yes, I did interview for a new job while I was out there, and that spread like wildfire throughout my current company and I was cornered by my boss about it when I got back. Talk about awkward. Sometimes social media can really bite you in the ass. Anyway, I won't know anything about that for a week or so, but I'm hoping the outcome of it is positive. Until then, I'm just trying not to get my hopes up, but any kind of rejection sucks and I know I'll be really disappointed if they didn't just love me.

Sunny Beaches!

     I moved to Florida in the middle of my senior year of high school. As if that isn’t fucked up enough for any 17 year old introvert to go through, I had to move or stay with my father whom I had never lived with a day in my life. That was my ONLY option. Clearly, I decided to move to Florida with my mother. That being said, I packed up my life and left all of my family and friends behind in Ohio while I moved to the most miserable, god-awful hot, elderly-filled cesspool of a town called Palm Coast, Florida. At first, the novelty of moving to Florida was really exciting. I was going to get to live an hour away from Disney World! I could go to the beach any day I wanted to! No more shoveling snow! No more de-icing the car before going to work or school! Flip flops year round! Spring Break! It was going to be SO AWESOME! And it was. For about six months. Now I’ve been in Florida for about 14 years, and let me tell you, that novelty has worn out FAST.



First of all, there is NOTHING TO DO HERE other than go to Wal-Mart or the beach. I haven’t been to the beach more than three times in the past 5 years. The sand is annoying, it takes you for-fucking-ever to get everything together to go, then, when you actually do get there, get all set up with your towels, sunscreen, cooler, beach toys, etc, etc, etc, you can only stand to scorch yourself for about an hour before you are sweating your ass off. You’re about half-blinded by the sunscreen dripping into your eyes from the sweat. That feels AMAZING! You have sand stuck in places you didn’t know existed on your body, and your skin feels like a red-hot brillo pad. The beach here SUCKS. I hate it. I never want to go. It’s nice to look at from some of the beachside restaurants but I absolutely do not want to set foot on it in any way, shape or form.


Don’t even get me started on our Wal-Mart. Ok, too late. I got myself started on it. Wal-Mart is probably going to sue me over this blog post, but oh well. Our Wal-Mart here is enough to make you want to commit suicide right next to the Sam’s Choice underwear hanging on the clearance rack. In fact, many people in this town have actually committed suicide in the parking lot of our Wal-Mart. It’s that fucking bad, people. It doesn’t matter what time of day you go to our Wal-Mart, there are no less than 20 elderly couples lollygagging through the aisles like they have no other place to be. And while I love the elderly dearly, I hate every last one of them when I’m trying to get through the store with my three children in under three hours without popping at least three Xanax and opening up a Coors Light as I shop. Ok, I’ve never actually done that, but I’VE THOUGHT ABOUT IT! I never thought I was capable of murder until I started shopping at our Wal-Mart. That place makes me so enraged that I could easily see myself strangling someone with a pair of White Stag jogging pants. If these people drive their cars the way they drive their carts through the aisles there, God help us all. I don’t think I’ve ever been in that store where I wasn’t approached by someone to help them with something. I’m all for helping the elderly, but what about me trying to corral three kids in a shopping cart as I struggle to make sure I get the right kind of laundry detergent my coupon is for screams “Ask me for help!” when clearly, I am the one who is in need of help. Mentally and physically. Thank God my kids are somewhat behaved in public. Then again, maybe if I teach them to scream and knock shit over, people wouldn’t bother me as I try to get my damn Steak-Ums and get out of the store before I do kill myself or someone else. And please, for the love of all things, WHY, WHYYYY are there 50 check out lanes if you are only going to have 4 of them open at a time for a store as big as the state of Rhode Island? WHY? I don’t expect all 50 of them to be open, no, but then WHY HAVE THEM? I wait in line at least 30 minutes every time I check out there. And the employees that work there? Oh. My. God. Every last one of them looks like their dog just died or that they just showed up for work after an all-night drinking and drug bender. Please tell me that ours isn’t the only Wal-Mart like this. I know it can’t be. I’m sure it’s just that much worse for me because of the kind of people that live in this town. It’s AWFUL. Sure, I could shop somewhere else, but my only other option is the grocery chains, and if I need to get anything other than food, which 99% of the time I do, it’s a lot cheaper to get it at Wal-Mart than it is at the grocery store. I refuse to pay $2.49 for my can of White Rain hair spray when I know it’s $0.97 at Wal-Mart. Bitch, please. You know you still use that shit, too. Don’t judge me.


Did I mention the job market here is horrendous? This county alone has been stuck at a 14% unemployment rate for as long as I can remember. That’s probably because we only have banks, mattress stores, doctor’s offices and pharmacies here. And the one small company that I work for and have for the past eleven years. I want out. Desperately. But there’s nowhere else to work around here unless I’m willing to commute at minimum, 60 miles one way to work for anyone paying decently. This is a retirement community for a reason. And while I may be a fat, lazy bitch most of the time, I am still a Mom of three and it would be nice to be able to bring in a decent income to actually be able to afford to do something with them outside of the house once in a while. Don’t even say “Take them to the beach” or I will cut you, I swear to God. So I’m stuck at this terrible meaningless job for the rest of eternity unless I miraculously get a job offer somewhere else. And I’m trying. REALLY HARD. I hope my boss doesn’t read this.


I am so outta here the first chance I get. They don’t call it God’s waiting room for no reason. People come here to die, and I’m ready to start living! The minute I have the opportunity to go, I’m gone. If anyone tries to sell you on moving to this place, tell them they are no longer your friend because any true friend wouldn’t want you to suffer this life. So, in the words of Jerry Maguire, I’m leaving… Who’s coming with me?

It's My Life, Don't You Forget

I have come to realize in my old age, I’m 31 and I’m allowed to say that now, that I don’t “play the field” as well as I used to. Not that I overly played it in my younger days, but now that I’m older and have three small children, I realize that I don’t have the energy to play Chutes and Ladders most days, never mind the dating field. Not only do I work a full-time job, I am also struggling to balance that with a full-time class load at DeVry University online. Who has time to find a sitter, shower, make myself look human, (AKA fake) and pretend to be a lady on a date when the good Lord knows I’m just waiting for my date to say goodnight so I can take off my bra and put on my granny pajamas and curl up in bed with my book? It’s utterly exhausting. I think my problem is that I try too hard on dates to be what the other person is looking for, instead of being myself.



I have always been a people pleaser and taken on project type men and tried to fix them into what I needed them to be instead of finding someone who was exactly what I needed them to be from the start. In my twenties, I saw this as a challenge and an adventure, even though that always ended up getting tiring when my superb efforts to be everything to someone only landed me my latest broken heart. It’s only after a decade of mistakes and failed attempts at the “dream” relationship that I finally realized that love shouldn’t be so hard, and if it is, it probably isn’t real love to begin with. Bad relationships are my worst addiction. In my opinion, being involved with bad men is a worse drug than anything you can get on the street. Unfortunately, there isn’t a rehab center for women who fall hopelessly in love with loser after loser hoping to turn them into the prince charming they so desperately want them to be. So I struggled, I spent thousands of dollars, I took physical and emotional abuse, I put my children in undesirable situations and sacrificed my own wants and needs to meet the ones of my undeserving partner, If you can even call them a partner. It was more like raising another child, time and time again.


What finally broke the cycle for me? I don’t know if I even have. I have no idea what the hell I am doing most days. I don’t have a five year plan. I don’t have a savings account. I don’t know if I’m going to make it to work on time every day, never mind graduate college. In my life, I have to take things one day at a time. I’ve had to learn to take a deep breath every once in a while and just focus on what’s happening now instead of obsessing over what should or could be tomorrow. I’ve had to learn to say no to them and yes to me. And for the first time in about 15 years, I feel good about myself. I’m in a better place emotionally than I have been in a long time. It’s empowering to know that I finally have control over my life. What happens today is my decision and no one else’s. If I mess up, it’s on me. If I succeed, that’s also on me. I’m no longer living life in a constant reactive state. I’m no longer cleaning up messes I didn’t make, aside from the ones my children make every day. It is MY life.


I am living for myself and my children for the first time in a long time and it feels so good. If someone should happen to come along who can accept me and my children for who we are, ratty holey pajamas and all, then good for them. I refuse to put on a face full of makeup for someone else ever again. I am not a clown. It is not my job to make them laugh, although I probably will. I’ll get dressed up to make myself feel good. I’ll put on my makeup because is pretty and fun to wear, but as Marilyn Monroe said, “If you can’t handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don’t deserve me at my best”. Challenge accepted.