I’m not sure what gave me the idea that this blog would be a good idea, let alone a feasible one. I work full time, I have a trashed house, 5 dogs, 3 cats, and two children. I’m not really familiar with “spare time” and I risk getting caught typing this at work.
Not going to stop me though 
It’s a new year, and I actually have a positive balance in my bank account as of today. Yes! Last year was so ridiculous I found myself constantly looking for a hidden camera everywhere I went. Here’s a recap:
January: I suffer an ectopic pregnancy. My right fallopian tube ruptures within the ligaments surrounding it, causing incredible abdominal pain, and internal bleeding. Most ruptured ectopic pregnancies bust straight thru and you visibly bleed…so you know, you can be alarmed and get yourself to the hospital. Nah, not me, I like to do things impossibly dangerous. I end up having 4 liters of blood in my stomach, damn near kill myself, and I’m out for 2 weeks recovering. I try to play this down to everyone around me, but I’m terrified to know that I was a;bout 2 hours from bleeding myself to death.
February: Nothing to mention really, except that eventually I’d find out my (now) ex has impregnanted yet another woman.
March: Still nothing, not really…just the average struggles of a one income family.
April: Here’s where things start to get crazy. My neighbors are murdered. Not just killed, not even just shot. They are stabbed to death in what the Greene County Sheriff calls one of the most brutal crimes he’s seen in his career. They are elderly missionaries, its 5 am. I wake up to see police lights outside my house. I live on a double cul-de-sac (do you call that a cul-de-sacs?) and its safe here, its quiet, there are small dogs and children in every house. This is VERY strange. My ex and I dress our kids, let the cops interview us, and we book it out of there. This is when my ex leaves me. I drop him at a deli on the morning of the murders, and he never spends another night with me again. It is now January, of the next year, and they have never caught the man who did this. My neighbors and I have developed a militia of sorts, and anytime we see someone we don’t know walk down our street, we tackle them. We’ve also memorized each other’s phone numbers, garage codes, and installed bars on our doors. Thanks asshole.
May: I’ve moved in with my mom. I’m not living at home by myself with a murderer on the loose. My mom sends my broken, terrified heart to the mall with $200 and an afternoon to myself. I hear “Cara!?” from over my right shoulder and there he is. My jester. A friend from my teenage years I had assumed was either imprisoned for life, or dead. (He’s neither) I hug him, we exchange numbers, and from then to now I haven’t gone a day without either speaking to him, or seeing him. This is the month I was saved from another downward spiral.
June: My best friend and I take our families to St. Louis. I smile so hard my face hurts, and the sun starts to tan my kids’ cheeks. They look fantastic with a tan. The jester’s daughter is born, and I decide I’m done having kids. The two I have are the best I can get anyway.
July: I celebrate an Independence Day like no other. July 4th was always in my head as my wedding day. I wanted to be married to my ex on this day, for whatever reason. Maybe it was a subconcious homage to our explosive relationship? Either way, my sister, my brothers, my best friend, and my kids make my Indepence Day mean so much more. I’ve also acquired at least one new tattoo.
August: I’ve begun drinking again, in safe company. I’ve sang karaoke. I’ve started dating, and let myself be loved. I’ve smiled more than I’ve cried, I’ve gotten new carpet and finally moved back into my house. I run to Kansas City in a moment of stress to meet the jester, we gamble, dance, eat lots of gluttonous food, and hang out at 3am on a gorgeous hotel patio. I watch him smoke and we talk about everything we’re going to do with our lives.
September: We celebrate the birthdays of my best friend, my jester, and my honorary husband, Jaime. I go to Ernie Biggs Piano Bar for the first time. I start to feel something missing and realize its the baby I lost in January, I’d be due next month.
October: Zeke’s birthday. My jester makes the effort to be there for him, enraging my ex, who then threatens to slit both our throats. Awesome. Halloween comes and goes, my kids trick or treat on their own…I follow desperately behind with my camera. I get NO pictures and gawk at the murdered neighbor’s house. My friends have now moved into it. Creepy.
November: Ren’s birthday, my birthday. Thanksgiving. I get to have my makeup done, and go to Branson and watch my ex’s brother fight in an MMA tournament. He loses, but I see so many lovely friends there, and have so many beers bought for me that it doesn’t matter. I text my ex the play by play and tell him I wish he could be there. We have a sentimental few weeks, and things seem okay.
December: Christmas. My dad’s birthday. At some point this past year my dad has decided I’m not worth his time. My oldest brother has decided the same. My younger brother and I are apparently “emotional wrecks”. We find this funny, they find it annoying and we don’t talk much. The holidays with them are dramatic and uneccessary. Christmas at my mother’s house is perfect. My kids get everything they asked for, thanks to my stepdad’s vicious shopping habits.
Typing that out, I know I’ve left out the sad parts….well most of them. I can’t figure out if its because I don’t want to talk about them, they have all run together, or if I have honestly forgotten them.
I know my general emotions about my 2011 are bittersweet. I feel heart broken, and healed at the same time. I have hope for the first time in my life today. I can look at the beige walls of my office and smile, instead of cry. I think about going home today and seeing my kids and the emotions I feel are light, I enjoy feeling them. Instead of the horrified, and heavy, weighty, scared or depressed feelings I felt this time last year.
I think I’m going to be okay
