Category: Sadness

It All Comes To An End

Since the last time I wrote, there have been several major changes in my life.

First, Jorge and I called it quits AGAIN sometime at the end of March 2021 (This was after the first time I found out he cheated with that little idiot, Sabrina, back in March of 2020). One of the conditions of getting back together back in November/December 2020 was him seeing a therapist for his mental health/anger issues and getting meds prescribed. and he did go—once. I could always tell when he had stopped taking them because he turned into a short-tempered jerk. Any little thing would set him off. And even though we were “working things out” he still lived at his house with his kids and I lived at my house with mine. He would sleepover every-so-often, or I would sleepover at his house. And then we would argue. He would take me out to eat and we’d still bond over playing Pokemon Go…until we would argue again. He’d storm off to his house and I’d fester in my anger at mine.

One day in late February 2021, we were up for a home inspection by my landlord. The house, which by this point I’ve lived at for 10 1/2 years, needed the doors and trim painted and I needed help organizing. Jorge said he would help me and of course the kids would help me. Even though I knew better, I made the mistake of waiting for him. But I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. That entire week, when I would try to paint after work, he’d want to go out to eat since we were “kid-less” and he would say, “What are you worried about, I’m going to help you on the weekend.” Something deep down inside kept bugging me about him saying that. I knew he wouldn’t.

Friday comes and he has to work late. *Insert facepalm here*. He doesn’t get here till 11pm and by then he just wants to go to bed because he’s tired. He says we’ll wake up early and go to Walmart (because I needed paint rollers). Our alarm goes off the next morning and I try waking him. He stirs and mumbles something about going to Stripes and getting breakfast tacos…and falls asleep again. Well, if he’s gonna sleep, I’ll sleep too. I set the alarm for another hour and go back to sleep. When he doesn’t wake up the 2nd and 3rd time I try waking him, I finally shake him awake because I’m panicking about the time; the day is going fast. His bi-polarism causes him to wake up in awful moods when he’s not medicated (pretty much how I was greeted every morning that we were together for 10 years). He storms around, bitching that the kids and I should have started early. I tell him, “But you told me all week you were going to help me. I waited for you like you told me to!” As we walk down the hallway to leave to Walmart, the dogs hear us and lose it because they want to go outside. He yells at Alaethia to wake up and take the dogs out and proceeds to talk about how lazy she is. I’m swallowing my anger by now. Then he’s complaining that he doesn’t have pants and he can’t believe he’s going in his sweatpants. I tell him we’ve gone to Walmart in pj’s plenty of times and that I don’t like how he spoke to Alaethia and he proceeds to call her lazy again, plus my other 2 kids. And I snap, “You are talking about ALL the children, including yours, right? Because yours are just as lazy!” And he says I need to get over it and that he doesn’t even LIVE HERE so why should he help me?? Then he says, “You know, you’re right— this shit really isn’t working.” And I said, “You leave this time and THAT’S IT! Don’t come begging back!” And he says, “Oh, I won’t, don’t worry!” He marches back in to get his things and drives off.

I’m so angry I stomp inside and start bawling from sheer frustration because how am I supposed to do this on my own?? But my gals came in clutch: Sally, Kary and Martha came over to help in the evening, thank God. Mario was coming to pick up the kids and starts helping, too. We order pizza and have wine and everyone is helping paint and organize. Somehow, we get everything painted and spic-n-span by the time the landlord shows up the following day. I was so grateful for everyone. Jorge called later that first night when his episode was over and asked if I needed help, way after the fact, mind you. But I was livid. I didn’t want his help at all.

A couple of weeks pass and he’s once again calling, asking to see me, or to have dinner, and so on. By this time, I’ve already replaced the TV and sofas that he took in October 2020, when he moved into the house he and Javi are renting. I had money saved and I felt like a strong, independent woman who don’t need no man! But he still calls. Still wants to work things out. Still takes us to the beach, twice. I told him he needed to be on his meds because I knew he wasn’t. I was extremely skeptical and still didn’t trust him after the whole cheating-with-Sabrina thing.

Then he gets this career opportunity right before my birthday to be the General Manager for either 1) a brand-new restaurant opening up in our city, or 2) the GM for 2 other already-established restaurants in our city. Let’s just say that I had no idea that choice #1 was the type of restaurant where the women are VERY scantily clad. He painted a pretty picture of it, saying that it was like a Hooters. Ok. I could handle Hooters, I guess. He kept saying he didn’t know if he should take the job because he would be away on training for a month and he didn’t know if his mental health would stay intact if he was so far away and alone, and he knew I wouldn’t like the idea of the new restaurant. I told him not to base his decision on what I would think, because obviously we weren’t doing very well and I wasn’t about to be blamed for him turning down a “good opportunity”. But deep down, I knew I wouldn’t be okay with that place. Especially after a quick Google search.

So we spend time together here and there. He’s trying his best. But I’m still keeping my guard up.

April 13th is Sally’s birthday. She was feeling down so I gathered up the girls, a cake and some flowers and we had a little get together for her at The Oak Bar.

My birthday is on April 14th. When the day comes around, we get as many of the kids together as we can. We’re not doing too good with money but I had some saved up and John had sent me $200 so I took myself and the family out :). Things still felt awkward to me, though; it just felt like everything was…forced? And he’s in a bad mood, like always, but he was making an effort to keep it at bay. And he brought me flowers.

We decide on Cheddar’s and have a pretty good evening with the kids.

The overhead lighting was terrible so we used flash and I looked like the opposite of a raccoon.
Very indulgent birthday!
From friends
From friends
Emily surprised me!

It was a great evening. I was feeling pretty darn blessed by the end of the night.

We (Jorge and I) celebrated my birthday at Suerte Uptown with Martha and Rudy that Friday. It was Selena-themed! Love those events! Sally and Kary didn’t go because they didn’t want to have anything to do with Jorge, which I’d grown used to, but so was a little butthurt, not gonna lie.

We had a great time, we even danced. Jorge was due to leave to training the day after and he wanted to go out one more time before he left.

The next day Jorge got ready to go and Martha and I took an impromptu trip to San Antonio because she wanted to go to IKEA. She was a couple months pregnant and had terrible morning sickness plus motion sickness and got sick several times on the way over. I felt so bad for her. But we eventually made it and she felt better on solid ground, heb.

Gotta selfie it up in the IKEA rooms. My unattended LV bag Jorge had JUST gotten me in the background.

For the rest of the month while Jorge was away in Dallas for training, he would call and send photos. One of the days towards the end of his stay in Dallas we have a serious talk about working on getting back together. He would take his meds. I would work on forgiving him. He would move back home.

But once he got back from training mid-May, he was working long hours setting the restaurant up, hiring servers and training staff for the grand opening on May 31st. We took the kids to the soft opening and I was appalled. John went with us. The chicks were basically wearing thongs. I knew I wasn’t going to like this at all. Not because I’m a prude, but because I knew my husband.

Jorge sleeps over at the house several nights out of the week, but he goes home to his house on some nights to check on the boys and Javi, and to make sure they haven’t destroyed the house. There was one time when he was sleeping over at my house that he left at 3am because there was some “emergency”. My womanly instincts didn’t buy that shit. He had even started taking calls outside when we were together so I wouldn’t hear whom he was talking to. Then, not too long after, he starts calling after work saying he’s working super late and he’s the only one available. I start getting Wing Stop vibes—back when he still worked in San Antonio and he wasn’t coming home anymore because he had started cheating with that little bitch, Sabrina.

In mid-July, Briana is packing up the house in Austin and moving back to the Valley. We decide to make a weekend of it. My girls and I would help her move and we’d all hang out. I tell Jorge about it and he isn’t going at first, then says he’ll join us. On Friday afternoon, as we’re getting ready to go, he is BITCHING that we’re running late and he has to go to a storage unit to rent for his mom (because he waited on his ass all damn day instead of going—but it was my fault, don’t you see). We get to the storage place and he says we’re super late and he’s not going to get the unit for this lady and we’re going to arrive super late and that EVERYTHING IS MY FAULT. The girls and I were thinking, WTF is his problem?? If I didn’t know any better I would have said it was drug withdrawals, or maybe he’d hada right with one of his hoes, but who knows.

The entire 6 hours over there is brutal. He’s just in a terrible mood and at one point during the evening he starts telling me off. The girls are in the back, scared, and Emily even starts recording. He’s going off on me and I told him to shut the fuck up because he’s showing my daughters exactly how a man SHOULDN’T be speaking to his spouse and he needed to stop being an asshole.

We get to the house and he acts like absolutely everything is peachy in front of his mom and sister. She knows otherwise, of course. As they’re moving things the next day, he whines and complains about how they shouldn’t have asked him to come if Briana and Dinah didn’t like how he did things. Briana’s like, Um, nobody invited you LOL.

So it was a miserable time. The girls and I even left earlier than he did so we didn’t have to deal with him.

About a week goes by and every single time we talk, we argue. We can’t just be civil. Dinah and Briana and the kids are staying at Jorge and Javi’s while they find a suitable apartment. Briana and Jorge are fighting all the time and I tell her that she and the kids can stay with me and my kids at my house if she wants. Then, on a Wednesday morning, I get a text from Briana asking if she can stay with us after all because she doesn’t want to be there anymore and she has to tell me something.

Again—my spidey-womanly senses are a-tingling. It’s about Jorge. He did something, I know it. I’m on pins and needles until she finally calls. She sounds exasperated and in angry and tells me that he took a tall really young girl to the house and took her to his room. And that they’d been having pool parties with a girl named Daisy (who ends up becoming Justin’s fiancé later on). And that Jorge is just partying it up till all hours of the night acting like he’s a teenager himself. She said there’s beer bottles piled high in the bins. And he was waking everyone up making the chick breakfast (or dinner) at 5am.

I’m livid. I knew it the entire time. I looked through the photos of the shitty “bar & grill” he worked on and I knew exactly who it was. Some little bitch named Steph, who had JUST TURNED 19!! We have kids older than that. I was so disgusted by him. The girls were disgusted. And yet, he starts calling me a couple months later, after a I broke my foot, asking about my love life and telling me about his and that little whore. He ends up trying to weasel his way back, but I’m pretty sure it’s because he was broke (oh, he ended up owing me tons of money) and I was going to remove him and the boys from my health insurance and he wasn’t going to want to pay me. Needless to say, I gave it one more to—mostly because I needed the help. But he was still talking to her, I later found out. Still talking to several chicks and on Alaethia’s birthday, told me he didn’t want to be responsible for kids or me or anyone. Told me he regretted every marrying me and that was it. I stopped answering his calls when he “missed his best friend”. Told him he couldn’t have it both ways. It took me a bit to get over it, especially because I couldn’t believe he did it to me AGAIN. But that was it. I wasn’t going to be stupid anymore. I’d wasted enough time.

This Only Happens to Me, Part 2

I am so mad at myself. And this happened to me because of me, which is the most frustrating part. I can’t even blame anyone else!

The one thing I feared happening, happened. I lost my damn phone. It was a beautiful, holographic Samsung Note 10 with a cute case and glittery Pop Socket. All my photos!! My eBooks!! My memes!!

I’m most devastated about my photos. And my darn memory card. I have never lost a phone in my life. And all because I went somewhere when I should have stayed home. I even had a FEELING I should stay home. Why don’t I ever listen to instincts??

It all started Monday, Labor Day. I slept in a little and was going to spend the day cleaning and watching Season 3 of 90 Day Fiancé: Where Are They Now? But first, I made French toast for the kiddos.

I started laundry and ate 2 pieces of French toast. Yes, I had carbs–you would have, too. These slices of bread had BERRIES in them. Then I get a message from Mel around 1pm asking if I wanted to meet her and her friend Edith at Yardhouse. I was feeling incredibly lazy, comfy and I hadn’t even showered, but she said we could meet at 3pm. I got ready in a hurry and met her at her house and we took off together to Yardhouse.

We had a good time catching up and gossiping and talking about our lives and our plans. Then we got to talking with Edith when she arrived. We had drinks, and shots and more drinks. Then we ended up at the beach on a Monday evening when I have work the next day [insert facepalm emoji here]. It was around this time that I thought, Shit. I should have stayed home.

We laughed, we drank some more, we had fun, I somehow fell and scraped my knee with sand and then we head home around 1am. (Neither of us were driving, by the way.) I hear my phone so I answer Jorge’s text, who is quite obviously livid by this point. I have my phone in my lap and when we arrive at Mel’s truck she says, “Don’t forget your phone.” And I’m feeling around my lap and the floor and it’s GONE. Just gone. I had literally just texted Jorge 15 minutes prior. We looked and felt around and then we gave up. I couldn’t believe it was missing. Mel suggested that maybe it was on my lap but I dropped it in the parking lot. But I knew it had to be in the truck. I didn’t hear anything fall.

I get home, Jorge is pissed, naturally, and I strip down and shower because I have sand everywhere. We get into a quick fight and we both have to work in the morning so he takes his usual spot on the sofa and I go to bed. I feel like I went to sleep and woke up in 30 minutes. I feel like absolute shit and then I remember my poor phone is missing. I don’t know if it was the panic and sadness of losing my phone, or the amount of alcohol I had the night before or if it was my anxiety (or all of the above) but I was chihuahua-shaky all day with heart palpitations. It was awful.

Still, I held out hope all day that Edith would find my phone in the truck somewhere. I call it several times and it’s already dead and it hasn’t been charged so maybe someone didn’t pick it up in the parking lot. When I get the text from Mel that, nope, it’s nowhere to be found in the truck, I want to cry. I ask my boss if I can leave early so I can check if we dropped it in the parking lot of the mall (I knew it was a long shot), where we’d left Mel’s truck before leaving to the island with Edith. He lets me (he’s a saint) and I leave and arrive at the parking lot. I walk, in tall-ass heels, a flowy dress in the wind and with a badly bruised knee (my bad knee, to top it off), throughout the parking lot, checking under cars in 100 degree weather and nothing. Not even little shards of glass where someone may have run it over (I could have at least gotten my memory card out 🙁 ). I even go to each of the restaurants in the area and ask if anyone found a phone and nothing. I check with the mall’s lost and found. Nothing.

I am, once again, swearing off alcohol. I can’t believe I was so stupid!

The next day comes and as I’m leaving to work in the morning I notice my stupid back passenger tire is going flat. Great. All I need. My boss and one of the Sergeants are having a brief meeting and I told them about the tire. They both said they saw it and I should take care of it now. So I go to the tire shop and I’m told both back tires are BAD; there’s hardly any tread left. So how much does this cost? A whopping $650. No phone for me this week!

Since I’ve grounded myself the only outings I’ve had this week are work, of course, going to Goodwill during lunch on Friday to purchase some books and then Dee’s little girl’s birthday party at Xtreme Jump on Friday evening. Mel and I met there with our girls and their friends. I had already gotten to 137.9 lbs. from the stress of the week, but I’m sure I gained 2 lbs back from having flaming hots with cheese and chili. It was so good, though. No regrets. But then Mel and I started talking about our night out at the beach and we started talking about OMG what if we get the Rona?? Our throats were feeling itchy and my nose was running. So I got home and made some tea and took my vitamins.

By the next morning, I was better, thank God.

Visited mom and John today (wearing a mask, social distancing and Germ-x’ing, just in case) and ate lunch with them. On the way to Whataburger, away from Mom, John and I talked about our current mental health. It’s crazy how similar we are.

So that’s where I’m at right now. Using my iPad and Messenger for communication. Yes, I feel sorry for myself and yes, I’m owning my mistakes. Thank goodness for upping my anti-depressant/anxiety meds dosage last month, or else I would have been a basket case. I’ve been pretty calm, all things considered, and I’ve only cried twice! So that’s some progress. Been reading (finished “Where the Crawdads Sing” that Sally gifted me on my birthday and finally finished “Big Little Lies”. Just started “13 Reasons Why”) and still watching 90-Day Fiancé: Where Are They Now? Currently watching the “Tell All” of Season 3. These couples are probably my favorite cause they’re so scandalous! They make me feel normal 😆 . Anyway. Here’s hoping my next post will be more positive.

Highs and Lows

Warning: Mental Health Post

It’s Monday and I’m lacking sleep, on the brink of PMS (or PMDD, it seems) since I spent a good chunk of the morning crying. At work. It was one of those mornings, which is how I know THE RED TIDE is coming. Good thing no one is here and I can cry in peace and silence at my desk.

I learned about PMDD right as it seems like I was in the throes of suffering from it a few months ago (February 25th, to be exact, before Covid-19 swept in and I became one of the few “essential employees” that couldn’t work from home 🙄 ). I couldn’t get control of my emotions and I just kept tearing up for no reason–it was so embarrassing. The guys would joke around (like always) and usually I’ll laugh or roll my eyes but I was incredibly irritated and wanted to just lash out or CRY. Or a customer on the phone would ask the same question in different ways and instead of breathing thru and being patient (because this happens often), I’m sure the customer could hear my eyes rolling in my voice. I never used to be that way! I loved talking to people, so as with most things I blamed it on age and becoming more…impatient?

It happens every month, right before my period. In fact: that’s how I know the impending doom is near. It’s easier to determine now since I’m on birth control to regulate my periods, of course. I thought I was just extra-sensitive from hormones but I’m beginning to realize it’s way, way more serious. So I was just browsing through those never-ending Snapchat Stories in February and saw a post about Bebe Rehxa and her experience with bi-polar disorder and PMDD, or premenstrual dysphoric disorder.

Everything started to make sense as I read the article. I felt exactly the same way every month and hell, the highs and lows during the rest of the month. The bi-polar disorder (or manic depression) is exactly what John was talking about when he told me he really thinks I need to see a therapist about it. It explains my laziness and desire to just stay in my room alone and sleep. Or the times that I feel like cleaning the entire house or going out to a club (which is VERY unlike me–and I regret it once I’m there). Or the reason I’m obsessed with collecting succlents and cacti, records, clothes, shoes…and lately–CATS. Like, live animal cats…

Anyway, then I read this paragraph and it’s exactly how I feel.

Rexha said. “A day before [my period started], I would feel like my world was ending, that my life went to shit … I would get into these funks and be really depressed and not want to leave my house.”

That’s exactly how I started feeling last night. I cried myself to sleep, just thinking of all the shit wrong in the world and ALL the shit going wrong in my life personally, right now. I woke up puffy and frog-eyed. I had a hard time getting out of bed and ended up not flat-ironing my hair, felt ugly, was running late to work and continued the spiral at work.

I know I need to get formally diagnosed but it’s good to finally put a name to all these FEELINGS I constantly have. In the meantime, I’m keeping myself busy as much as possible. Even if that means watching “13 Reasons Why” and exacerbating my anxiety instead of going for a jog. But at least I watched it in my workout clothes! Baby steps.