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Writer's picturemuseme222

I'm Enough - Part 2.2 - Stop Caring What Others Think of You!

Updated: Jun 4

Man have I been avoiding this one since I started recreating all of it. I really do hate doing this sometimes. It's hard.


I just want to have fun and be free and to be loved without doing all this fn work on myself.. LOL smh. Yea, I know, don't we fn all.


I'm just gonna dive in here.


Disclaimer: This blog may contain cursing and vulgar language. Not suitable for children under the age of 14. Having said that, this is my blog - so feel free to fuck right off if you don't like it. I'm trying to heal my own emotional traumas and wounds and maybe help someone else by doing it. I apologize in advance if you don't like how my memories and feelings make you feel - but thats on you. That's on you to heal ;)

Thanks for reading!


I went to teach my fitness class. Pretty sure I was about to puke again. The fn anxiety of having to look people in the eye.


At that point, there was only a handful of people that actually knew anything about what was going on but still my mind raced with thoughts of, "What if they come and arrest me here? What if someone asks me about it?"


"WHAT IF THEY COME HERE IN FRONT OF ALL THESE PEOPLE?"


Holding back my tears, I breathed a few times and got out.


I remember taking a breath, holding it in and praying for strength and exhaling as I pulled that door handle open.


A wave of assurance passed through me. This whole experience has been soo crazy to try and explain. I mean, you think it makes sense until you say it to someone or write it down.. And you're just like, lol man, ohh okay, I guess maybe I really am crazy huh.. lmao.


Anyway, I went in, taught my class, nobody knew anything. I didn't cry. I didn't puke. I didn't collapse. I just focused on what I had to do and I did it. I was eerily calm and normal. I felt like everything was going to be okay in that moment. And then class ended and walked out into the nightmare that had been my world for the past 4 months.


My husband had called and texted. "Fn great" I thought. He never calls me unless something is wrong.


Sure as shit, the police had come and tried arresting me at my home in front of my kids and neighbors. He had said that he told them that I would go up to the sheriff's department and turn myself in.


I just sat there in my car. I couldn't believe what was happening to me. I just kept saying, I've never been in any trouble in my entire life (except for that one time in high school). I was literally only spanked one time during my childhood that I could remember.


I've never done anything maliciously wrong to anyone my entire fucking life - the extreme opposite actually. (except when I got in trouble at school that one time and even then it was a complete accident - this story will end up being it's own entry.)


I've only ever been a "good" person. I found myself crying out more times that I could ever count, "Why me?! What did I do to deserve this?!".


As I sat in my driveway, just staring blankly into the distance, trying to collect my thoughts and deal with my shit show nightmare of a life (and husband - who still hasn't said anything about any of it at this point).


I go in, check on everyone, hug and kiss my kids good night, collect my bail money from the dark corner of the freezer I had hid it and got back into my car.


I remember thinking, God, I hope I don't throw up in booking. I felt like I could totally puke right then and the nausea hadn't subsided for the last 4 months. I just knew that I hadn't thrown up in a couple days but I also hadn't eaten anything either.


I roll my eyes thinking back about it now. I was scared that I would throw up on a police officer. LOL I was worried about the police officer being upset with me at a time when I had every right to feel and be the way I was because of what was happening to me.


I finished my cigarette, grabbed my cash and made my way inside to booking.


The whole booking process was actually pretty painless.. I mean, besides the whole mug shot thing and finger printing. I was never put into a cell. I was never stripped searched or hosed down like you see in the movies. And I don't really understand why I had to change into the orange scrubs if I wasn't staying.. It just seemed like a pointless load of laundry to me. But then again, I wasn't questioning anyone. I kept my mouth shut and did what I was told.. Like I always do, right.


As I'm ready to check out of that roach motel, I pay the lady confinement officer my $5k for bond. Thinking I'm just waiting for my receipt and then I'm out of there right. Nope, there's a $5 processing fee that I need to pay also.


I was like, "I'm sorry, what?" She repeats herself and says, "That will be five thousand and f-i-v-e dollars..". I say, "Processing fee? I just handed you cash. I'm not using a credit card or any form of electronic payment."


She just says, "Because there's a processing fee". Feeling my face catch fire, I say, "Oh, because the money I pay out in taxes isn't enough huh?"


She said, "Is there anybody you can call to bring you f-i-v-e dollars? Do you need your cell phone out of your personal property? I will allow you to use your cell phone to get a phone number if you need to?"


I just stared at her.. Trying to process my thoughts into words.


I had left my cell phone out in my car because I thought I would be in and out there. I read over the website multiple times and I never once saw anything about processing fees. I was prepared to go there and get out. I had done my research. I had worked in the legal field at that point for almost 2 years and had never heard of a processing fee.


I finally mustered up enough dignity to respond as rationally as I possibly could, "I left my cell phone out in my car because I thought it would be easier. I'll call my husband. We live on the next street over and everything will be fine." I'm not sure If I was actually talking to her or to myself at this point.


I go to the pay phone and I make my collect phone call to my husband. I reassured myself again that, we literally lived on the next street over and he could just run over here quickly - assuming he still had money that I had given him..


He didn't answer. Idk how many times within that next hour I called him. It seemed like a million. He never answered his phone. I remember leaning against the wall for support.. I'm not sure when I had let my body slide down that wall and nestle itself under that pay phone. The ear piece still in my hand. I had completely disassociated myself from my current situation.


The only thing I can remember thinking - I couldn't fucking believe it. Of all the times, I never needed someone. Of all the times, I never needed anyone. The one person who was supposed to love me - was NEVER there for me. None of them where EVER REALLY THERE FOR ME..


All the times, I've never needed anyone but was ALWAYS there for them. Stopping my life for them. Going out of my way for them. Doing things that I didn't want to do for them.. And the only time I REALLY needed someone.


I sat there in complete misery with myself. "I'm going to spend the night in jail". "I'm seriously gonna spend the night in jail over f-i-v-e fn dollars", I replayed in my head the way the female confinement officer said it.


Someone cleared their throat or coughed and brought me back to present moment. I looked up and saw my surroundings.


Damn, ok, I wasn't dreaming.


I look down at the phone in my hand. Oh, okay, yeah, now I remember, I'm trying not to spend the night in jail. Right.


In slow motion, it seemed, I released the white knuckle grip I had on the ear piece and let it dangle beside me. I put my palms to the floor as if I was trying to suck some energy from the cold pale dirty floor I had found myself on.


I wasn't about to get onto all fours and straggle my way to my feet. Nope. Planting my feet and using my arms to lift my ass off the floor, I slide right back up that fucking wall to my feet.


I bent down grabbed the ear piece and hung it back up.. Pausing with my hand on it.. I thought maybe I will try and call him one more time.


I didn't.


If it were me and I saw that I had a million missed collect calls from the local jail, knowing my my wife was there. The woman I claimed to love and adore, the mother of my children. The woman that worked her fucking ass off and made sure that I was the most important thing in her life.


I wouldn't have waited for her to try and call me back. My ass would have been at that jail banging on doors or whatever else. My ass would have asked my neighbor to keep an eye on our kids while I went and got my partner taken care of.. My partner wouldn't be spending the night in jail. I mean, fuck, my partner wouldn't have went alone to fn begin with.


That's how I do for my people. That's what I would do for my partner.


Once again. Alone.


I let my hand slide off the ear piece as if I was saying good bye lol. Ugh, it brings tears to my eyes now.


(I really hate doing this shit ya'll.. Trust me, if I could go on with life being ignorant I would. Yea, probably not, though. I don't ever want to feel like that again. I don't ever want to let someone make me feel like that again. I only hate it because it hurts. I only hate it because I've spent a lot of life hurting my own feelings expecting me out of people.)


My hand dropped to my side and I looked over at the female confinement officer. I straighten my shoulders and I walk over to her. She looks up at me with understanding eyes and said, "Can't get a hold of anybody?" I nod no and ask for a phone book.


The only other number I knew by heart was my real dad's number but they had just disconnected it because they all had cell phones now. The only other people I knew that had a land line that might be in the phone book was my husband's parents.


I flipped through the phone book, squinting through blurred vision, trying to find their names and letting out a silent, "yessss" when I did find it.


I called and his mother answered. As calmly as I could, I briefly explained what had happened and what I needed. I asked if she would try to get a hold of her son and/or bring me f-i-v-e dollars.


She came through for me - and I was grateful. I still am. I remember she just hugged me. I was too tired to cry then. Well, tired and just flat out fn pissed off at my husband!


I don't remember anything else that happened that night. I don't remember if I fought with my husband or what.


I honestly, don't remember really anything for the next couple of weeks. I've tried to remember what I did or how I felt but I just can't remember it.


Well, until I do remember anyway. Two weeks later.









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