::pack:: of fixations

life after tragedy. living while grieving. love and triplets.



I had an energy reading done yesterday.  It ‘twas pretty profound actually.  The woman doing the readings name was Jody & Jody really helped me.  I want to write this down so I have it forever.

I just wanted to know why?  Why do I get mean girled so much.  Am I attracting it?  I know I’m not causing it.

What she taught me I will try & explain to you now.  In hopes that it might help others as well.

She said to picture a flame burning inside each & everyone of us.  She said that even the very darkest people will still have a flicker.  She said that my light is extremely bright & that there are some that just cannot handle it.  Some will try to make my light not as bright by trying to hurt me, because they can’t handle my brightness.

She told me that I often dim my light when I’m around others whose lights are not as bright as mine, just to make them more comfortable.  I dim my light so they don’t try to hurt me.  But when I dim my light I’m only hurting myself.

After reading my chakras etc (I apologize I’m pretty new to this), she told me that I’m meant to teach.  I can’t recall how she put it exactly but she said that I need to let my light shine in order to step into my divine power.  She said that when those with dim lights are trying to harm me, my spirit needs to tell their spirit that I’m just not participating.  She also said that I’m meant to help teach those whose lights could be brighter.

She told me that Colum IS with me & that had I not ever lost him, I wouldn’t get to have him with me in this magical way.  That He was meant to bee with me in this way.  She said that when I’m allowing my light to shine bright & free from negativity, (& some other stuff), that that’s when I will feel him the most.


A few years ago after I cried for about a year from being mean girled by my in-laws, somebody recommended a book to me & I actually read it.  It was called the four agreements.  I’ve lived the four agreements unknowingly a lot, at least most of them.  I realized that when I lived this way I was my happiest, best self.  The four agreements are:

1) Be true to your word

2) Don’t take things personally

3) Don’t assume things

4) Always do your best

I equally love all 4 of the agreements & it really helped heal a lot of the mean girl wounds.  I learned that if I know I’m a good person, that these things are happening because of their own issues.  I’ve understood & accepted this for awhile now.  But what I didn’t understand was why?

I’ve really just been floating.  For years I’ve been floating not really knowing or trusting this side of myself.  On Thanksgiving I met a person.  This person I may never see again & has little significance to me.  But when this person got up to introduce himself to me I suddenly got really dizzy.  I actually put my hand up to my head because I got so light headed.  His energy was really strong that I felt it physically.  And this person talked to me like he KNEW me.  Not the normal way you know a person, but, like he could read my mind, like he knew my spirit.  This lasted only for a moment.  I had to go home & recover from the way this made me feel, (& cook thanksgiving dinner).

It’s been a few months now & I actually wonder if this person I had met had anything to do with the feeling I got, maybe it was just the MOMENT.  Maybe in that very moment, everything finally aligned for me.  I hope I don’t sound crazy, (Jody understood me completely).  But this very moment is when I feel like I stepped into my divine power.  I could see & understand the big picture.  A piece of that is that I needed to heal.  I had WORTH.  And in order to heal I needed to understand, be brave, & speak my truth.  That speaking my truth isn’t trespassing.  Stop dimming my light.

I truly wish my light wasn’t bright.  All I’ve ever wanted was to live a simple quiet life, but the universe keeps showing me that I’m not meant to be quiet.  So from now on, I will dim my light for no one.  Wish me luck!  Also thank you so much for all your comments.   Let’s all let our lights shine brightly.  Thank you for validating me❤️!


Characteristics of Narcissistic Mothers article

Okay, so I came across this article in result of following a commenters advice & I am still in shock.  It’s like somebody has been following my mother around & then wrote this.  I will elaborate on a few topics from this soon!  I have so much to learn still.  Thank you so much for all of your help everyoneπŸ™πŸ»!




I remember the last thing I wanted to do was plan or talk about his funeral before it happened.  I remember telling my parents that We didn’t want it to be religious because our little family just wasn’t that way.  I requested to sing itsy bitsy spider because that was his favorite song.

You see where we live everybody is Mormon & we both grew up that way.  Throughout my childhood I was taught that you’d never be happy without going to church & following it’s doctrine.  I always felt terrified as a child because I knew attending church meetings would be very difficult for me to do as an adult, because I honestly hated going.  And if my parents (& sister) weren’t there to make me, I was going to be damned for sure.  The first Sunday of every month the congregation is welcome to get up & speak to bare their testimonies.  People would often get up & sob about their relatives becoming inactive & I vividly remember gasping at the thought.  I will tell you if you don’t already know that leaving the church is scary.  No one ever gets up & speaks about that.  The people they get up & cry about probably struggled for years, & felt so.much.shame.  People think if you leave it’s because of Satan, but I left because of how it made me feel.

We couldn’t leave the hospital so we crammed as many people as we could in the chapel at the hospital for the viewing as we could.  They put Ryan & I in “cardiac” chairs (I believe) so we could sit up & we both remember how much those chairs made our poor bones ache!  There was a man there that my mom kept getting really excited about.  Everything’s kinda blurry now so bare with me.  This man had a heart condition that my late brother had had, yet the Drs were able to save his life since technology had greatly improved by the time he was born.

I remember singing itsy bitsy spider & that my oldest sister played the piano.  But all I remember besides those two things is that the man my mom had recently met, spoke at my baby’s viewing.  He spoke longer than anyone else.  And he spoke primarily about Mormon things, as Ryan & I sat feeling disrespected. I had but one request & my parents weren’t about to give it to me.  During my sons funeral the man spoke of Joseph Smith & it took all I had not to just scream at him, there, in front of everyone.  During his talk he also brought up how we’d requested the service to not be about religion but then continued to talk more about it.  I felt degraded & invalidated.  He later came to my hospital room to give me a signed copy of his book.  My mom must’ve noticed my lack of interest in it & I handed her the book as she acted like I’d handed her a million dollars.

If I could go back to that day right now, I would have yelled out at this man during Colum’s Service.  I wouldn’t have cared one bit.  But at the time I was too afraid of offending the Mormons whom were offending the hell out of me.

As I sit & reflect on this day now that I have a clearer head & emotional state I see it for what it is.  The speaker helped my mom make OUR tragedy about HER.  She adored this man not for who he was but because of his heart condition.

After the viewing we were wheeled into a private room somewhere & it was just Ryan, my parents, & I.

I could FEEL that something just wasn’t right.  My mom was trying to distract me from what my dad was trying to tell Ryan.  I kept turning my head towards them and noticed my mothers nervousness each time.  I kept ignoring her & asking him directly, “what’s going on?”.

My father was trying to tell Ryan that he had blessed our kids into the Mormon church, without ever even asking us.  It’s not a blessing per day but more of putting them on church records.  We, their parents chose NOT to do that when they were babies since we ARE NOT MORMON any longer.  It’s still funny to me that despite my drugged up state I literally could feel my fathers controlling, unethical ways.  Never looking for my best interests only his own.

My dad loves to go fishing.  He used to have a boat & he would take his grandsons fishing in the Summers.  He’d take his grandsons, just not Finn.  Two Summers ago I mentioned this to him & the rest of the summer flew by without one single invite.  Finn loves fishing possibly more than most little boys you know & then some.  He had no idea that he was being left out & like myself doesn’t care if he’s the favorite or not.  So the Summer before last I finally got an invite for Finn to go with his grandpa & cousins.  I drove Finn down to my parents house, he was to spend the night & go with them early in the morning.  As I went inside their house, I could FEEL that something was up.  It was the same feeling I’d gotten before but I couldn’t quite pin it until I was driving on the freeway back home.

Finn was about to turn 8 in a few weeks following.  My Dad wasn’t taking my beautiful non-Mormon son fishing out of love, he was taking him because he was turning 8.  And the age of 8 is when Mormon kids get baptized.  I smiled to myself because I know my son wouldn’t be easily swayed.  I am continually saddened by what I know Mormons like my parents think of people like me.  I know this because it’s what I was taught.

I remember watching an Oprah episode years ago where she asked the audience if there was one thing they could go back & change about their life what would it be.  A man who looked to be my dad’s age at the time stood up & said something like this, “I wish I could go back in time & love everybody in my life, & not let what religion they are get in the way”.  I still close my eyes & say a little prayer in my heart for all the brave, satanic people like myself, that maybe one day, their Dads heart can open up to love instead of religious obligations like the man I saw on Oprah did.


Not being “thanked enough”

Waxing different women throughout the years I’ve learned that none of us really “see” ourselves.  We all focus on our flaws, but most of the time the flaws we focus on aren’t even real.  I will have the most beautiful creature in front of me, the epitome of beauty & yet she has no idea.  In fact I don’t think any of us look into a mirror & really see our true beauty at all; only the flaws we’ve made up for ourselves.

Three Christmas’s ago I had returned to work doing eyebrows at Nordstrom.  They reached out to me & asked if I could work at the Anastasia counter at least for the holidays.  I also had 1 year old triplets & a 6 year old son.  There is one Day in December Nordstrom gives its employees a little extra employee discount & so I headed over to the handbag department to shop for my MIL.  There on the clearance table was a beautiful beige Kate Spade handbag, that being already on sale + the extra discount, & knowing my SIL wanted Togo in with me I thought it would be perfect for her.  My MIL & I are very different & I always struggle trying to figure out what to buy her.  

We drove to her house on Christmas Day, which we all know is a difficult day for us.  But We have to pretend that it’s not & that nothing ever happened.  And even if you don’t talk about your tragedy to them & pretend that it never happened at every family party you still get a letter in the mail saying that you “let your tragedy effect you too much”.  My 1 year old triplets were scattered throughout their Grandma’s house & Ryan was making sure that no one fell down a flight of stairs as she opened up the gift I had stressed about finding for her.  I was so excited to give it to her because it wasn’t too loud & it was also a neutral color.  She undid the silver Nordstrom ribbon & pulled out the beige Kate Spade handbag that I thought matched her style so perfectly.  She looked at it with extreme distaste & disgust.  She would barely even touch it with the tip of her fingers as she pulled it out & put it to the side, all while giving me, every sign of revulsion & hatred that her body & face could possibly bare to throw at me.  Her house is obviously not child proofed so it came of no surprise to me when Ryan said he didn’t see his mothers disgust with the gift I’d gotten her.  I also wonder if she knew that he wasn’t looking when she so deliberately tried to hurt me (for buying her a KATE SPADE handbag mind you).  The woman who gave birth to my husband, who my parents told me didn’t care if I lived or died, was trying to hurt me on CHRISTMAS DAY..., but why???

Looking back on that Christmas it’s funny to me because in my heart I knew something was brewing amongst the women on my husbands side of the family.  There were little signs all over the place coming from most of them for years.  For example: I got a tummy tuck, hernia surgery, & a breast reduction after I carried triplets full term.  I literally had a skin apron removed from my body.  My 21 year old niece from Ryan’s side stopped by unannounced shortly after & I mustered up the will power to get out of bed to show off the new me.  Because I assumed like most people she was happy for me.  As I limped out of my bedroom fresh from major surgery she looked at me with absolute horror & disgust.  She was trying to make me feel bad about the way I now looked.  I fully understand now that she was just trying to hurt me, & she did, she made me cry for days, but why?  Why did she want me to feel bad?  Her one mistake was doing it in front of my sitter, who witnessed the whole thing, which made her denial of it all a little tricky afterwards.  I was so grateful I had a witness to her behavior.

It’s a little blurry & confusing what happened months following the “biggest negative reaction to a Kate Spade purse ever” Christmas but it went something like this...

My MIL calls Ryan out of concern to tell him to call his sister, he calls his sister.  His sister tells him that his nieces (whom had been giving me dirty looks for years prior & I had no idea why), said that they heard from some one I said some horrible things about them  So that’s 5 women total that did not come & talk to me about these supposed things I said.  That’s 5 women talking shit about me talking shit about them.  Then they call their son, brother, uncle to try & convince him how horrible I am based off of hear say!!!

When I tried to stand up for myself it was hopeless.  Because the 5 women (4 being my in-laws) thought it was wrong of me to talk about them.  I asked why they didn’t come to me in the first place & they said because I would yell at them & make them cry.

A few months later one niece (she’s in her late 20’s not a child btw), says that all the women sit around & talk about how I didn’t thank them enough.  So does that mean Ryan thanked them enough?, or do boys not count when it comes to “thanking enough”!

 I’m no doctor but I’m pretty sure sitting around & talking about how your daughter/sister/Aunt in-law who was a victim of a very serious crime & then was pregnant with, & gave birth to triplets didn’t “thank you enough” is total gaslighting!!!!!!!!!!!!!  I wonder who the ring leader is?  Did you know that gaslighting is very common technique used in bullying?!?  It’s pretty successful too!  I cried for a good solid year about this.  I cried because I thought that they loved me.  I cried because It was all based on lies.  I cried because I loved them.  I cried because I crave healthy relationships.  I cried because I thought these people cared about us, like really cared.  I thought they helped us because that’s just what humans do.  Because what goes around comes around.  I’ve basically been family-less for years.  

Ya know how they say couples have a 90% chance of getting divorced after losing a child?  I’m actually wondering if their families have anything to do with itπŸ€”?  I wonder if they’ve ever done studies on that?  I guess you’d have to study the 10% of people who didn’t get divorced & survived all the unnecessary bullshit of Unknowingly not thanking enough, etc.  I guess I didn’t get the memo of how to properly thank the in-laws after tragedy.  Maybe they could write us all a handbook on it, ya know for the future victims of people getting hit by others driving high & drunk & losing a child.  

There is no way I can win this fight.
And I don’t even care to try.
I know eggshells when I see ‘em.

In reading about abuse & abusers behaviors I keep reading not to listen to what they say, listen to what they do.  Also, I’m working really hard at “SEEING myself”.  Now that I know that I’m not completely nuts, I don’t want to waste anymore energy on wondering why mean girls are mean.  I’m actually taking all the mean girling that’s happened to me in like a positive way.  Like. I must bee something sorta incredible to have all these women spend so much time & effort trying to take me down when all I’m doing is trying to survive happily!  



When I was around 22 years old, I remember sitting in a room at the Dr’s office while waiting for the Dr with my Mom.  I was having gallbladder attacks even though I no longer had a gallbladder.  

I had been wanting to ask her & test out my new theory & we were just sitting there alone in a room together.  I’d rationalized her behaviors & even started to convince myself about what I was about to ask her.  “Mom, ya know uh,....when I was in Junior High & High school?  Were you going through, uh, menopause or something?  Is that the reason why all you & Dad ever did was yell & scream at me?”.  Her face froze with question & shock.   “Kelly, I never went through menopause.”  

“Mom, are you sure?  Why did you scream at me so much then?”, I asked  unbiasedly.  I just wanted answers, I just needed to understand.  These questions came from a place of forgiveness & understanding, but that wasn’t how she took it.  But, I didn’t know how she took it until a few weeks later.  “Well yes I’m sure, I had a hysterectomy & I was most certainly not always yelling at you!”.  I was so confused.  I don’t remember arguing with her any further, or perhaps that’s when the Dr waltzed in.  I felt crazy & dillusional.  She acted like she had no idea what I was even talking about.  If she wasn’t going through the worlds worst menopause causing her enormous fits of rage over the tiniest of things then why?

I called my parents house about 1-2 weeks later.  My Dad answered the phone & snapped at me.  “Kelly, why’d you say those things to your mom?!?”.  I had no idea what he was even talking about.  He didn’t care what my response was, he interrupted me, “she’s been in her room crying for 2 weeks, because you said that all we ever did was yell at you & now I’m the one having to take care of her because of what you did!”

I remember feeling horrible & ashamed that I made her feel cry for 2 weeks.  I also felt horrible from them denying their treatment towards me.  I also felt sorry for my poor Dad, I was so disgusted with myself. I had assumed she felt bad about the way she treated me throughout my childhood.  But the truth was she didn’t even care about any one else’s feelings besides her own.  So I was the one to blame for everything while my Mother Dearest played victim...again.  And that was the last time I brought it up.  Because, I guess it didn’t happen.

My Dad had just had a knee replacement & we were all to go and visit him in the hospital.  This was made out to be a big deal, (which now being what I’ve been through makes it a bit laughable to me).  My Dad will tell you himself that his knees went bad because he had been both the football AND basketball star in High school.  As I approached his Hospital room I could see his big belly sticking out the side of his hospital gown & that his room was filled with some of my siblings.  He was sitting up in his bed & was very alert, soaking up all the attention he was receiving.  I’d only been there but a minute as he looked up at me, grimaced & loudly stated, “you really need to lose weight, you’ve gotten fat!”.  I didn’t even realize he was paying attention to me.  I was speechless & extremely hurt & embarrassed.  He was right though.  I had put on some weight & it’s all I could think about.  

I was so upset by his comment for days following it.  I remember telling a sister or two how rude I thought it was, & could sense that word had  traveled back that I was upset.  Inside I felt deeply rejected by him because of my weight gain, but I’d never felt accepted either.  I called their house a few weeks later to tell my mom how I felt.  My mom answered.  And it was made known that I was somehow in trouble for having my feelings hurt.  “But Mom, he needs to lose weight more than I do.  Mom, it was rude of him to say that!  Mom, my weight is all I ever think about.  Tell him that it was really rude of him to say that.”  I was crying.


“He’s just really hurt by you honey.  I don’t think he had any idea what he was even saying Kelly, he was on so many meds”.  I remember arguing back & forth about why I was the one in trouble.  It seemed that everyone involved were on my parents side.  Why wasn’t he even being told it was rude of him to say?  Why can’t he just say he was sorry?

Both of these stories are examples of some hard core gas lighting, a new term I’ve learned (my vocabulary is growing fast).  I have been gas lighted so.many.times.  Here is the definition of gas lighting from Wikipedia (again I am still in shock there are names for the things I experienced πŸ™πŸ»πŸ˜­πŸ™ŒπŸΌ✨):


Gaslighting is a form of manipulation that seeks to sow seeds of doubt in a targeted individual or in members of a targeted group, hoping to make them question their own memory, perception, and sanity. Using persistent denial, misdirection, contradiction, and lying, it attempts to destabilize the target and delegitimize the target's belief.[1][2]
Instances may range from the denial by an abuser that previous abusive incidents ever occurred up to the staging of bizarre events by the abuser with the intention of disorienting the victim. The term owes its origin to the 1938 Patrick Hamilton play Gas Lightand its 1940 and 1944 film adaptations. The term has been used in clinical and research literature,[3][4] as well as in political commentary.[5][6]

If I experienced gas lighting does that mean every one in my parents wake did too?  Or do gas lighters have specific targets?
You know what else I’m now seeing?!?  That therapist that told me how BPD & NPD get married AND just partner up so well (she interlocked her fingers when she said it).  Wow, my parents partnership is super impressive.  If gas lighting were in the olympics I bet they’d take the gold for sure!  Also, the abusive asshole I dated in High school definitely had NPD!  I was dating my Dad!  So grateful I didn’t marry my Dad you guys!  Unanswered prayers, sometimes you just gotta bee grateful for them✨.

Ryan turned 40.  The triplets are in gymnastics.  Finn starts flag football in March.  The triplets are constantly playing “Honey’s” or “puppies” when they play house.  Dale brushes my hair, Wren is glued to my side, & Holland’s hair is always hanging in her face.  Finn is such an awesome kid.  I never have to worry about him in school & he is so responsible.  He actually is a lot like I was, they all are.  I look at my kids and see all their sweet innocence & it makes me ill to imagine myself at their age getting screamed at, shamed, & criticized.  I feel so free writing my truth.  I was severely abused & I had already survived it even before I knew it wasn’t normal.  And for the first time in my entire life, I myself feel that I am amazing!



The only way I could sum up my childhood to people was that I wasn’t allowed to have feelings.  That my Mom was the only one who got to have feelings.  I guess the easier way to put it is invalidating.

I wrote about my wedding story on here somewhere but what I didn’t tell you was that when I got home from our honeymoon, I ran back over to my parents to grab something really quick.  I typed in the code to open the garage door, then hung up my car keys on the hook in the kitchen upstairs (habbit) & ran downstairs to pick up a few last items.  I don’t recall a single word being said, but I could feel something was up.  I unhooked my keys in the kitchen, only moments later not thinking anything of it, but immediately noticed that my keys felt lighter.  

And without a word their obligation to me was done.

I no longer had a key to their precious home.  The code to open the garage was changed so I couldn’t get in that way either.  This moment & the way this made me feel is something I will never forget.  I’d never stolen anything from them.  Their house is the very last place I’d want to go to.  Yet, it almost felt as though they saw me as a criminal.  Didn’t they know all I’ve ever wanted was to be free from them?  

I’m realizing that my invalid childhood has lead to poor communication skills into adulthood.  I’m working on it.  I can explain things much better when I write them out here.  I also forgot what it felt like to trust my gut, to really trust it, because everything I felt was invalid.  I thought my gut must be wrong, it must be defective.  I understand that my parents are the way they are because of abuse & possibly permissive parents.  I know they will never be loving parents to me.  And that is all I ever wanted was to feel loved by them. And to understand it all, is freeing.

I once had a teacher that said most people see all of the details but not the big picture or, they see the big picture but not all the details.  I think I definitely don’t see the big picture a lot of the times because I get lost in all the details.  I have felt so lost in all the invalidation.  It’s so nice to see the big picture & to know, really know that I’m not defective; it’s them.

I wax the eyebrows of some pretty big bloggers/influencers.  I saw one in particular last week.  This girl is such an inspiration to me.  She shows so many different sides of herself to thousands of people; sides I’d never let anyone see. She is beautiful & a remarkable human being! She dealt with abuse in her childhood & they are still in her life via family parties etc.  I asked her how she is able to go around them & not get triggered & her response was equally both beautiful & amazing!  She said she puts all her shields up.  She meditates & then combines her inner power, & the light of Christ to make a shield of light that blocks all their negativity. (Or something like that).

Is there a shield store?  Or a shield repair shop?  Mine are broken.  Mine broke when I almost died...or is that my new perspective showing?  My new perspective of YOLO & nope if I need shields to be around you then I’m not coming ‘round, (because my baby DIED on Christmas).  No but really it’s like a gift I have now.  If people are mean to me & I did nothing to them, &
they cannot discuss what the problem is, it’s bye Felicia!  Oh, & this goes for everyone, people that know if my baby died on Christmas or not, (I will write more about this soon!).  But my shields that I have to use against toxic family are broken!  Or maybe they just don’t make shields like they used to?  Or maybe I’m.too.weak.  Or maybe my feet have walked on more eggshells than they’re supposed to & they’ve developed an extreme intolerance.

But would it be okay if I just focused on the good things happening in my life & forget about having to use shields & just not let the toxic people come around us?  (Unless they are willing to pay us of course).  And the ones that aren’t my parents, is it okay that I only want to be around them under my own terms?  Because my baby died on Christmas.  Is it okay to spare myself from additional pain from people, & no longer subject myself to being bullied by women, even if they are family?    

My body has a lot of quirks from all it’s been through. Most of the left side of my body is completely numb.  My entire abdomen is numb.  My left glute, & thigh area is completely numb. When you are numb it’s easy to not use the correct muscles in order to move properly.  This can lead to more problems.  And sometimes the pain radiates throughout.  I scar really bad internally & there’s a whole plethora of different issues there & it can be terrifying.  If I think about it, I can feel that my body hurts constantly.  But I don’t.  I keep a positive attitude.  My last physical therapist told me she thinks that my brain rewired the way I feel pain because I can handle more than most.  It rewired itself after experiencing so much.  I have been doing reformer Pilates and it has changed my life!  It’s expensive but a lot cheaper than physical therapy.  I am relearning to use the muscles slowly & it’s wonderful to feel more balanced.  When you are numb you can’t feel what muscles you’re working.  Pilates is teaching me how to use my muscles again properly.  I highly recommend it to anyone who is struggling with chronic pain.  

I can tell you this with full confidence that if you saw me today, you’d never guess my body had been through what it has.  It’s been years since I’ve taken any opiates/pain pills, (Ryan too)!!!  I don’t even take NSAIDS.  We’ve come so far that it almost feels like a different lifetime.  People ask me all the time how I did it; they say I have every excuse to not get out of bed in the morning.  I tell them that it really isn’t that hard to get out of bed if you have 2 legs that can walk.  After getting used to Colum being gone, the hardest part about Christmas & living everyday without him has been dealing with all the horrible things that our families have done to us, & not seeing the big picture.  It’s been really confusing to say the least.  

I wrote this post a week or so ago, that’s why there are 2 posts in one morning.

Thank you so much for your comments!  They mean the world to me.  Thank you for supporting me so I can speak my truth.

Black out

I used to think it was strangely fascinating when people would tell me that they’d “block things out”.  This person in front of me had experienced something so traumatic that their own brain hid it away from itself, in order to protect itself from reliving the horrific experience.  

In April or May following the crash, I can’t recall exact events now but it was when my mom was wanting me to console her for Colum dying & I wouldn’t, (it should’ve been the other way around, right?).  It upset her, &/or I stood up for myself & the usual thing happened in result.  The usual thing my Mother Dearest usually did was get all of my siblings, or as many as she could to rally against the enemy, which was me...I was STILL USING A WALKER so her desire to be the bigger victim was a hard fight & she could only round up my one older sister, the one who abused me my whole childhood, yup, that one.  They are really there for each other, two peas in a pod really.  

My sister sent me a text message stating: “Bad things happen to everybody, & you need to get over it.”  (She’s talking about the car accident I was in less that 5 months prior).

I responded: “Fuck you”, & no I don’t speak to my family that way.

My entire childhood my mantra with my evil sister was: “I can’t wait to be a grown-up so I don’t ever have to see you again”.  I’d tell myself these words over & over again.  I realized on that day that I was now a grownup & this person, although she’s biologically related to me, has no place in my life.  I’m done.

But strangely she mentioned an incident to me at my Mother Dearests Birthday party a couple years ago.  She told me she wanted to apologize for that time when I was sleeping innocently one night when we were in high school & she just came in my bedroom & punched me as hard as she could in my stomach.  She asked if there was any damage.  I listened to her in disbelief as she described details of my parents even calling the police on her.   ...how do I not remember any of this!?!  She kept mentioning that this one is one she still feels bad about.  None of it sounded even the tiniest bit familiar to me.  And this person has borderline, never apologizes for anything cause, duh, she’s never wrong.  She mentioned that she’s pretty sure that this is when she was on the drug Phen-Fen & how it was the medications fault ‘cause it made her crazy, (aw, this is her motive).  

I actually remember her on Phen-Phen & I don’t recall a change in her behaviors except that was really happy.  The happiest I’d ever seen her actually.  She’d lost some weight & her confidence immediately skyrocketed.  I think she wanted me to know that all her bad behaviors were all to blame on the Phenomenal side effects of a dangerous diet pill.  But what about all the other times I wonder what her excuse wasπŸ€”πŸ§?

 I’m just like those people I’ve always been strangely fascinated by.  But it’s daunting not knowing what else my own mind is hiding from itself.  Or is it? Is it ok to have a plethora of tiny vaults holding twisted memories of abuse, stashed away in your brain & soul?  Truthfully, I am just happy to not be stuck in a basement with her anymore, with a conjoined bathroom between us. When I text my parents horrible things (after thanksgiving), I told them that “when they get to hell, to tell them you want my old room in the basement.”  

The hardest part for me is that my parents hardly ever protected me from her.  They were too busy thinking they were the only ones with feelings. No one will ever understand what it was like in that basement except for maybe her ex-husbands.  


High pain tolerance

I remember sitting in my friends kitchen with my 2 best friends in 8th or 9th grade.  They’d seen my parents wrath of confusing furry the most, especially my Fathers.  He would show up at my friends house & scream at me.  Most of the time I had followed all the rules, but unbeknownst to me the rules had suddenly changed, again!  I was always in trouble, & I was a good kid you guys.  Sometimes he’d just let loose & yell at my friends & their parents too...it was awful.

Sitting in the kitchen my friends broke down & asked what was up with my parents; because it turned out, it didn’t make sense to them either.  They told me if their parents did that to them, they’d rebel. I remember feeling so relieved having somebody who recognized how strange & unjustified their behavior actually was.  This was the very first & only 1 of a few times I’ve ever felt validated.   I’m just now finding answers 20 years later.  I was being emotionally abused you guys.  & not just a couple times, it was everyday, unless mowing or shopping.

I had another therapist/dr client in my studio last night.  She reminded me that she’s told me that my mom has borderline too.  She described the life of living with a BPD with one simple word; “invalidating”.  Because you’re never validated, your thoughts & feelings are never validated.  Your natural feelings & emotions, you are told/taught aren’t valid.

I remember breaking up with my high school boyfriend & my mom asking me why shortly after.  I bravely replied, “because he’s really mean to me, & every one says that he’s actually emotionally abusive towards me”, I was 17 btw, (& if you can’t tell that was a cry for help or at least comfort).  She rolled her eyes & acted disgusted with me for breaking up with him.  “Ugh, well I really liked him”, was her response.  He also raped me once but it was over with so quick that I never knew if it still counted if he only lasted 2 seconds.  He then went on to our high school & told all of his/our friends that I just laid there like a “dead fish”.   ...but my mom really liked him.  So emotional abuse & even being raped & mistreated felt NORMAL to me.  I was so repulsive & disgusting so that’s what I deserved anyway.  Yet I knew her reaction wasn’t healthy, it was confusing because this was my Mom.  The abusive asshole rapist’s initials are C.C.  I actually heard he’s a Dr now.  I wonder if he’s still raping people & if he’s been able to fix all of his premature ejaculation issues by now.  After he finished raping me, he had the audacity to blame the entire thing on me.  I let him too, because I believed at the time that it probably was entirely my fault.

He later went on to serve an LDS mission in Australia.  He told a friend to tell me that he was sorry after he got back.  I’m wondering now as I type if he was apologizing for the verbal abuse, rape, or the dead fish part.  Hmmm, I guess we’ll never know.  I hope that somewhere, someday he gets the opportunity to read this & I hope it makes him feel like shit.

Also, please note that in my parents eyes, none of this happened.  They are probably claiming that I am making all of this up, even that I am the crazy one.  They are never wrong.  But if it’s all a lie then why does it hang over me like...like a cart.  Every so often my “cart” gets too heavy to pull.  Since I have such a high pain tolerance, sometimes it takes me a lot longer to realize the extreme weight, than it would most people.  It turns out that protecting the bad guys can be more taxing than losing your baby on Christmas to a meth-head, re-learning to walk, & almost dying.  Who knew?

With every word I type my cart gets lighter & lighter.  I’ve been pulling this thing around my whole life.  But you know what, I think we should go through what’s inside of it together.  So maybe we can empty out some of your cart too, if you want.

Sorry for all the dark real ness guys.  But it’s real.  But I’m actually happy & fine.  I’m finding it so much easier to fly since I’ve come out of the closet.  Stay tuned, there’s more to come.  Happy New Year everybody!!!

P.S. I’ve really been debating if I should share these posts on Facebook lol, wait I’m serious.  Thoughts?


Saving myself part 4

Ok, so the book’s amazing (walking on eggshells)!  It’s crazy to me that there’s an actual name & medically documented descriptions of her very same behaviors.

I am learning that responding to them in anger won’t ever change things.  I have a life time of pain bottled up inside me that never got to tell my side of the story.  I was so confused all growing up.  I always felt like their & (one of my siblings) free to punch anytime, punching bag.  My entire childhood I was in survival mode.  I grew up as the enemy in a war zone, of a war that made no sense.  I’m realizing that I’ve actually known, even been friends with several people with BPD over the years.  Some are easy to spot for me now.  Some take a few years.

People, when they’ve known me for awhile & find out about the crash they can’t believe it, & they tell me I’m amazing.   People find out I have triplets & they tell me I’m amazing.  People come to my business & fall in love with their browz & tell me I’m amazing.  

People tell me I’m amazing all the time you guys.  It’s just my very own parents that don’t.  Because I’m learning from the book that they probably don’t think I am.  And it hurts a lot when you don’t understand why your parents don’t see you.  

But having the knowledge that there’s a medical reason for their behavior helps me out a great deal.  Feeling validated; Helps me a great deal.  It even says that in the book that “kids of BPD really just need to feel validated by SOMEONE”.  Because they wonder if they are the crazy ones.  And finding validation is hard because most people can’t believe how bad it is.  

Right now, I’m attracting really good things & really good people.  I’ve honestly never been better.  My kids are great but getting so big!  It’s crazy to see their personalities mature but stay the same.  I could never scream at them all the time.  Sometimes it gets really overwhelming having triplets & sometimes I think Finn competes for our attention a little bit (he’s such a great person you guys❤️, they all are).  

Anyways, I practice not taking things personally like it’s my religion, but for some reason my parents behavior takes me back to a sad place.  And honestly it doesn’t take much from them at all to do that.  A lifetime of manipulation, confusion, verbal, & emotional abuse will do that to ya, I guess lol.  I just need to detach myself from people that trigger my pain.  Because I’ve had way too much sadness.  I just want to be happy.  And I will never be able to control my temper, because that little girl who could t defend herself wants to come out swinging.  Because that little girl is now strong & brave because of them.

I feel cheesy right now but I’m gonna keep going.

I watch my kids & all they WANT is for Ryan & I to see them.  I need to remember that as a parent always.  We need to actually SEE & HEAR them.  Even when they are (almost) 37, they need to be seen even just once a year, but hopefully a whole lot more than that.

I tell my girls that we are all fairies, and that every fairy has special gifts.  Holland is the snuggle, helpful around the house fairy (she really tries to do what she’s told, & she’s the most sensitive). Wren is the outfit fairy (cause girlfriend loves fashion).  And Dale is the hair & makeup fairy (girl after my own heart).  And Mommy is the kind of fairy that helps other grownup fairies feel pretty fairy.  Oh & I tell them they are amazing all the time.  Oh, and I try to pay close attention to their gifts so we can nurture them.  

Also, thank God I have Ryan!  

P.S. I have been typing this on my phone & so I apologize half of this is in italics πŸ˜†.


Saving myself part 3

“The people that mind don’t matter, and the people that matter don’t mind.”
-Dr Seuss

My mantra!

I consider myself incredibly lucky because of all the people I get to meet & be around when I’m at work.  I get to repeatedly see people that inspire me & I learn so much every single day!  

I have one client who I saw yesterday & she just so happens to be a therapist or actually maybe a psychiatrist, she is very wise whatever she is.  About a year or so ago she was describing someone to the friend that referred her to me.  I listened quietly but I wasn’t paying close attention to the whole story.  But there were so many similarities to my Mom.  “That sounds exactly like my Mom!”, I quickly added.  “Your Mom has Borderline Personality Disorder”, she said back to me.  

I was surprised several appointments later when she mentioned my Mom having BPD casually, mostly because I was shocked that she even remembered.  Although I usually try not to talk about myself during people’s appointments unless they asked, I’m not exaggerating when I say I was excited to see her yesterday.  I immediately asked her advice on how to deal with my parents, (I think that one is a narcissist w/borderline tendencies & one is borderline with narcissistic tendencies btw).  She had mentioned before how it’s off common for a BPD to marry a NPD & how together they make an abusive dream team, (interesting right?).  Her answer was to deal with them as LITTLE as possible, IF AT ALL.  She said I would need to have concrete boundaries set into place & she said that no matter how much work I do on myself that merely associating with them will trigger my pain, “it’s basically cellular”.  She said that there is no abuse like that of a BPD parent.  I asked, “what about my kids?”...for it’s the guilt of my kids not seeing & knowing their grandparents that always gets me.  She said I need to protect them as well because, “They are who they are Kelly”.  

I tried to order the book that somebody recommended on my last post “Stop walking on eggshells”, on my kindle but couldn’t figure out how to order, pay for, & download it immediately onto my kindle.  I was only able to download the free sample & the paperback copy arrives tomorrow.  But the sample alone gave me some clarity.  I’M NOT THE CRAZY ONE!!!  I cannot wait to get it into my hands & read it!  I probably won’t be able to shut up about it afterwards either.  From what I gathered from reading the introduction is the face of BPD is hard to spot sometimes & that families w/BPD can appear normal to outsiders.  

All their behaviors make so much more sense to me now.  I wish I would’ve written my truth a long time ago!  I’m okay you guys, I’m not crying or even sad.  I’ve began this process many a times.  It’s probably easier for me to drop them from my life than it would be for my siblings (not that I mean my siblings should drop them etc), because I know that when they die I will be fine.  I’ve already lost a child.  There’s nothing worse & I know that nothing will ever Bee as hard as losing Colum.  Which to me feels like a CHRISTMAS MIRACLE!

Something else I didn’t tell you is I threw a family xmas party last night.  I invited my entire side of the family.  I wasn’t sure if anyone would show up I’ll get to why in a moment but first I just want to say that my parents just couldn’t afford to make it this year!  They are TOO POOR & own 2 houses & a Lexus, & so many diamonds.  I told them Walmart was hiring but they just couldn’t come because WE ARE TOO EXPENSIVE.  It’s a shame because our value is only going up & our prices will only follow.

On Thanksgiving I FaceTimed my parents whom are in Arizona at their friends house.  I was talking to my mother dearest & she’d act extra disinterested in me as usual so I just LET her for what unknowingly could be the very last time speak to my kids.  And I got on to say hi & the emotions of how much I missed my family surfaced.  I said, “Mom.  I miss my family so much”, as I began to cry.  Her immediate response was “uh, ok, bye” as I intermittently watched my moms hand float up & her finger click END.  She hung up on me.

My baby died on Christmas.  We were hit on Christmas Eve leaving my family party & ive barely seen much of my family since.  I MISS them.  Not my parents, it’s a SHAME but I just never have.  I miss most of my siblings!  I miss being around the good guys!  But you see my mom is the victim & I think she was enjoying herself on that day.  If “I” got sad then that would mean that she’d have to act sadder.  Or maybe, my Mother Dearest just doesn’t really care about me.  Either way, it set me off onto what I did next & why I didn’t know if anybody in my family would come.

I just started texting her/them.  I started out by asking them to come help me move Studios, fully knowing that it’d never happen.  But then Colum showed up & took over my thumbs.  It was actually HIS idea to charge my parents TOP DOLLAR not mine.  He’s brilliant you see.  He wants me to tell them exactly how I feel.  For weeks We texted them any horrible memory We could think of!  It felt amazing!  I’m going to write it all out publicly here on my blog though from now on!  Just because I can!  My baby died on Christmas & I have this platform that last I checked, over 2 million people have read my blog.  I want millions of people to know what the face of BPD & NPD looks like. I want to talk about abuse, not have a pity party.  I’m also seeing the big picture that my abusive childhood happened, & it happened to all of my siblings.  My parents “Are who they are”.

I’m going to get really real from now on because:

The people that mind don’t matter, & the people that matter they just wont mind if I do.

Thanks for reading, this is my therapy!


Saving myself part II

While I was trapped in my hospital bed my parents told me that my MIL didn’t care if I lived or died.

You see, after I left the ICU the first time, the hospital staff thought it would be a good idea to put Ryan & I in the same room.  I remember being wheeled in to a room filled with people & immediately I wanted to ask them to take me back to where I was.  I just wanted to be alone.  I just wanted to be alone & cry.  I didn’t want visitors, the dr’s said that I shouldn’t have any either.  I didn’t want to have to smile at anybody.  I wanted to be alone with Ryan & I needed to see him be sad.  I needed him to be sad with me for a moment.  & when I was stimulated too much my heart monitor would go off.  My parents were trying to limit the amount of visitors, even stop them altogether.  But my MIL insisted that her son get all the visitors his heart desires.  Ryan looked very happy with his life & I could feel the tension although I was so in & out consciousness.  I didn’t understand at the time how he could be smiling.  & I was also surprised when several months later my SIL on his side came at me about how my parents & I were acting at that time towards visitors.  I could feel the resentment she still held against me for it, like I knew what was going on & not trying to survive the shear amount of utter pain I was in physically & emotionally.  I’ve had several very close friends that showed up to visit me tell me that they were screamed at by my father.  He even made some of them cry.

So yes, visitors were not good for my health.  It wasn’t just because I wanted to be alone, I needed to be physically.  So I assume my parents told me that my MIL didn’t care if I lived or died because that’s how she was acting, by dragging visitors in to see her son despite what the Dr’s were telling her. But that was SICK of them to tell me that.  And it was selfish of her to not care about my health. How would that make you feel?

It was so selfish of them to be fighting with each other instead behaving like Good Guys.  It’s inappropriate to turn someone’s tragedy into your own, when they are still in critical condition.

Ryan was talking to his mom in a different hospital room one day next to me.  After hanging up with her he started spilling his guts about how his mom would call him crying every single morning.  She told him that just following the viewing at the hospital that she walked up to my dad & said that she didn’t think we should have to pay for our son’s funeral & that they should both pay half.  She said that my dad agreed but then proceeded to get in his car & drive to the funeral home & paid in full with our money (that my uncle gave us to survive on, thank you Uncle!!!).

At first I believed her.  For years I believed her.  The woman who gave birth to my husband who didn’t care if I lived or died.  But now, I don’t know who I believe!  To be honest I think she shouldn’t have been confiding in Ryan at all at that time in our recovery.  And to repeatedly call him & cry to him about it was SELFISH of her.  I stopped trying to be anything but cordial with her long before the crash.  And to be honest that was ok with me.  But putting your son in the middle of something so SICK after going through such unthinkable things is SELF-SERVING.  That’s when you should phone a friend or even my Dad, not us, not Ryan!  Use your head!

I wish I had the insight back then that I do now with this.  I’ve been holding all of these other terrible things inside me for too long.  I’m tired.  My MIL did stay with us for 6 weeks after we had the triplets.  She did not miss 1 single feeding in those 6 weeks!  She cooked, she cleaned, & she acted like a mom should.  I’ve never had anyone especially my own mom do anything like that for me.  I AM SORRY  if I didn’t “thank” her enough for that!  I was kind of busy though & I had NO idea at the time that people would do things to “help” me only to be “thanked” enough.

I used to internalize everything & wonder “what’s wrong with me” & “I must be so repulsive that I don’t deserve their love”.  I would put their toxicity onto my own shoulders.  But Colum has helped me see that I’m a good guy & it’s THEIR own issues ...not because I’m disgusting.

I just moved The BrowHive to the most beautiful studio in all the land!  They let me sign the lease & deep down I’m terrified to pay the rent.  But Colum guides me to do things now so I know it’s where I’m supposed to bee.  It’s in a brand new building full of many Studios.  A couple of days ago I watched as the building’s manager sat on a chair while her mom & dad were hanging wallpaper in one of several of her businesses/studios.  Her Mom brought in a beautiful Christmas wreath & hung it up.  Her Dad is always there just fixing things for her!  I swear to you I have never seen anything like it in all my life.  Do people’s parents really do things for their kids like that?!?  I almost asked her once if they’re getting paid to help out so much!  It’s been remarkable to watch & she she has so much gratitude for them.  I want to bee that kind of human!  I want to bee helpful when my kids are embarking on the bravest business venture they’ve ever done!

After the sentencing was over with we made most of our local channels 10 o’clock news.  I wish I had it saved somewhere but on one of them the news journalist was talking about what happened.  When she talked about Ainsworth instead of his face on the screen there was a picture of MY DAD in his stead. My dad’s face was where the bad guys face was supposed to bee.  It was from a picture of him in the audience & we were all scratching our heads on how it got there.  I didn’t SEE what was right in front of me at the time.  I couldn’t hear what Colum & the universe we’re trying to tell me.  But this Thanksgiving was a magical one!!!

Also, if when my kids grow older & have issues about something I did; I will listen to them.  I will tell them that I’m sorry & I will hold them while we discuss how I can make it better.  My parents can’t do that.  Or maybe they just won’t.  Kids still want to feel loved by their parents even at age 37, maybe even have them act interested in their lives too.  So I’m writing this all down for myself because it feels empowering!  I feel so much lighter.  I even feel Colum a little bit stronger which tells me that I have the right to tell my story exactly as it happened.  There’s bad guys in every good story anyways.  Thank you to everyone who has prayed for us, donated to us, & been there for us when our families could not.  We really truly couldn’t have done it without you.  Happy Holidays!!!


Saving myself

Airing dirty laundry only to let it go

Growing up my oldest sister told me she would get hives every time my mom had another baby.  The reason for this is because she was expected to take care of them.  She has told me that my mom never got up with me as a baby, she'd just let me cry & cry (I believe I was the most neglected by my parents overall in my family).  So it was her that got up with me, even though she was only a freshman or sophomore in high school.

The sister just older than I, I now have been told started seeing psychiatricists at the age of 5.  She was so loud & interruptive & self-serving.  She lived to make me look bad, & would beat me, one time she used a bat to my head.  Oh & she also had 100+ lbs on me.  Often as I would get dressed for school, the shirt I would plan on wearing would be ruined because it was stretched out because my sister would try on my clothes when I wasn't there.  I think she was a very difficult child for my parents & she was always out for me, never getting punished or punishment enough.  I was quite small when she was standing on the top edge of the couch with the bat just waiting for me.  I don’t recall being in a fight with her but I was innocently trotting down the stairs as she swinged & hit the wooden bat to my skull.  My Father was the first one to the scene & what I witnessed was barely a reprimand; he didn’t even put her in time out.  Maybe they didn’t know?  

As a child, I remember having so many mixed emotions.  Why was my mom always talking to my dad like that?  At age 10 is when I started mowing lawns.  It was such hard work & made me feel exhausted.  I didn't get paid.  While mowing lawns, at this young of an age I remember a sweet old man whose lawn I was currently mowing came outside & approached me slowly.  As I shyly looked up at his eyes I saw that he was crying.  His arthritic hand was shaking heavily probably from tremors as a piece of candy fell onto the grass below.  He emptied the rest of the candy in my hand, as I was catching them & putting them in my boxer short pockets.  While struggling to catch the free candy, I barely heard his gentle voice say, "a small girl should not be doing the work of a man".  I will always wonder if he knew if my Dad wasn't paying me.  

The night of Christmas Eve 2011, I showed up to my brothers house, I actually hadn't seen my parents in months.  I didn't have the vocabulary to know that I was actually setting up boundaries to protect myself from them at that time.  (I actually still need more vocabulary & therapy).  As the youngest of 7 children I was never nurtured, I never felt special, or even loved by them... truthfully.

My first memories of my mom after the crash was her hovering over me repeating, "I won't hold this against you, I won't hold this against you".  I knew what she meant.  She meant because she hadn't seen Colum in months, & I was to blame for that since I was trying to protect myself from my parents ways.  They don’t even try, they never have & it still hurts to feel unloved by your parents.

After our car accident I went to therapy.  But not because of my fear of driving in cars or PTSD, but because I needed tools to deal with my Mom; whom turned our tragedy into being all about her.  She turned my losing Colum into some sort of sick competition & I wasn't competing.  My mom would call me and just cry psychotically.  I would put her on speaker so Ryan could hear her.  She was wanting ME to console her for Colum's death.  She wanted to be the victim, because she always is.  Up until recently I would justify her behavior, maybe she never properly grieved my brothers death approximately 45-50 years ago?  But I’m 6 years out & am nowhere near to behaving that way.

One time in a court hearing, I think it's when he plead guilty, I began to cry.  The room was filled with news journalists, & bailiffs.  Within seconds of me starting to cry, I heard my Dear Mother start sobbing harder & louder than me.  I couldn't help but feel that my mom brought her victim competition with her.  

When I was younger my mom & sister just older than I would clench their fists & purse their lips (an impression of something I had no idea I would do) & call me lazy & helpless.  I still to this day overwork myself to compensate for them doing that to me over the years.  Is this normal?  Did your mom & sister do this to you?

My parents & the bishop we used to live next door to (that wouldn’t wave to me) actually drove to the hospital & "blessed" our kids into the Mormon church without asking us, their parents who were still fighting for our lives.  This wasn’t cool.

I remember her coming to my hospital room, I was trapped in & naming off the gifts that caring friends, strangers, & neighbors were giving her; a little Jesus figurine holding a boy that resembled Colum was one I specifically remember.  Tears fell from my eyes as I expressed my desire for even one of those things to have in my room with me.  The satisfaction in her evil smirk she gave me, is something I can never forget.  Why would a mother compete with her daughter after going through something so horrible?

My childhood was a lot of the time a hostile situation between my sister & both my parents.  Ask ANY friend who came home with me from school & they will tell you that all my parents ever did was scream at me, my mom usually never even left her bedroom, she’d scream like a senile person at me over leaving a light on.  My Dads yelling would escalate over nothing & many friends witnessed him chasing me through the hallway & around the kitchen with his hand in the air screaming at me over what didn’t make sense.  If they weren't screaming at me, I was invisible to them.

I clearly struggled with eating disorders & a (very) severe case of body dysmorphia (still a struggle for me).  I continued to mow lawns through the age of 18 for free, but my dad always drilled it into all his daughters heads that it was to pay for our weddings.  I mowed up to 180 lawns per week with boys around my age whom my dad would pay, but all they’d talk about was how cheap he was & basically call him an asshole as I’d listen quietly in the truck wanting to shout at them that at least they were getting paid something!  I payed for my own wedding (mostly it came out of Ryan’s paycheck at age 23, I was 20) which I'm still confused about, along with a lot of other things.  But I’d rather pay for it myself than ask them for anything.  And in case your wondering they didn't pay for college or offer.  I grew up saving my lunch money so I could buy a things like deodorant, & a dress for prom & other dances.  It was easy because I was so disgusted with myself that I felt I didn't deserve to eat.  I was neglected, & abused emotionally.  I had no self worth.  I still struggle with feeling worthy of most peoples affection.

I graduated high school early & moved to Denver with a friend.  I did this to escape my life at home.  There we worked jobs & got our own apartment & I lived 100% independently on my own.  It was a huge struggle & it was scary & now that I’m a mom I can’t believe they didn’t care more about me.  I remember all my friends that worked the same job as I would receive tax returns & we would claim the same thing.  I never got one.  I now know that my father was claiming me & keeping the money.  Probably to help pay for my moms purse/whatever else shopping addiction.  "We all pull our own cart in this family".  But honestly it felt like my cart was full of my moms purses, diamonds, & material things.  It sent such a mixed messaged to me with all the waiting for my mom while she was shopping throughout my childhood.  I still can’t bring myself to shop at any outlets because if I wasn’t mowing lawns I was waiting for my mom for countless hours to pick out her millionth purse & sometimes a diamond.  If we are so poor how come you can shop so much?

My sister told me 6-9 months or so after the crash that concerned people around town would come up to her & ask, "how's your mom doin?", & she'd respond, "uh, ya mean my sister right?, you know my mom wasn't in the car".

When I was about 12 I remember working the guts up to ask my mom if She thought I was pretty, (cause she never once told me).  Her response was, " well, do you think I'm pretty?,  because you look like me".  I probably shrugged & I remember running downstairs in my room& crying.  I just wanted to be seen, just for a moment.  I don't have any pleasant childhood memories associated with either of my parents.  I’m not lying when I say I can’t think of one.

A couple years ago my oldest Niece on my husbands side told me that, her, her sister, her mom, & her Grandma (my MIL) sit around and talk about how I didn't thank them enough for helping us, (I assume for watching Finn when we couldn’t wipe our own asses etc). This came shortly after the 2 page letter my MIL wrote me exclaiming that I let my tragedy effect me too much & so many other horrible things.  This confused me since I NEVER spoke with her about  our tragedy.  It also broke me because I really needed a mom figure in my life.  My in laws won’t even say Colums name even though THEY were the ones that actually KNEW him the best.  It still stings so much, but I just can’t work with a group of Women that won’t talk to me to my face or can’t say the word Colum just cause a Meth head took him away from all us.  It feels so cold when I’m around them.

Ryan, used to think I was being dramatic actually about the way I felt about my parents & upbringing.  He’d roll his eyes at me.  This was only until we shared a room or 2 or 3 at the U of U hospital after our tragedy.  I can’t figure out what the exact moment it was that he recognized the absolute horrible behavior of both my parents & continues to apologize & understand me better to this very day!

He’d see them act like heros in front of all the important people only to benefit themselves.  They’d volunteer to pick up things we needed such as combs, bed sheets, & the equivalent of male stripper pants with buttons down the side (these are what handicap peoples dreams are made of), only to nickel & dime us for every cent.  They kept track of every single penny!  But they would never except in front of other people, not even in front of the Costco cashiers.  My parents didn’t/wouldn’t fork out $2 for us, we had to pay them back & hey, they even got to go shopping how satisfying for them.

I am still very confused by their money hungry, childhood stealing, hard labor they put us through, & all their weird hang ups & manipulations.  But I’ve recently realized with the help of Colum that I can no longer have them in my life... well that is unless they are willing to pay TOP DOLLAR to see us, for this is what I believe my/our worth is.  I’m requesting $1000 each to see any of us.  This is to go towards therapy that I need & to pay my sitter while I’m there.  I would also like to put some of the $ towards my triplets preschool because truthfully we can’t afford it right now.  It’s pretty rough when people ask if they are in preschool & most the time I make up an excuse.  There are the government funded preschools that we have been looking into for next year FYI. 

I think my upbringing made me strong & im really grateful for that.  But, sometimes it’d be nice to have just one parent, just one even once a year that told me they were proud of me & showed some sort of affection.  Somebody that wouldn’t twist & turn things I said into something that I didn’t.  In my profession I witness this kind of mother/daughter relationship & it gives me hope for my daughters & I.  

Ryan & I were put in the middle of way too many situations while we were in the hospital that we shouldn’t have.  I think BOTH sides are at fault for that.  I also think it was the most SELFISH behavior I’ve ever witnessed in my adult life.  And it’s unfair that we both have so many toxic people around us.

I’ve slowly been detoxing from ALL toxic people in my life over the last few years.  I don’t think I’m perfect by ANY means but I do know that I am overly humble, a hard worker, & have a very creative mind.  I care about other humans & consider myself to be brave & strong.  I will put almost anyone before I put myself & I’m actually a really decent person.

Colum has showed me to look at the world & the people in it like a child.  You see, there are good people & there are bad people.  I’m a good guy.  I really am a good person that cares about others.  I’ve recently realized with the help of an unknowingly helpful friend that I was starting to not SEE my own kids.  I wasn’t nurturing them!  I was starting to resemble my own parents.  I want them to be seen & heard.  And most importantly that I want them to feel nurtured.

I never wrote the truth about what was happening behind the scenes because I used to want to protect the bad guys.  But, over thanksgiving I had the most spiritual experience of my life.  Colum’s here with me now & he’s strong, brilliant, & funny.  Even though they are my parents, I don’t need to have all of their negativity around me, for misery loves company.  I just want to bee happy, bee myself, & bee good.