My life has been a series of mistakes and failures.  Nothing works better if I need to give a good cry than to think about what one big failure is my life.  First, let's just start with high school (cuz it's easiest, and puberty would take too long).  I was not popular or particularly well liked (no, say it ain't so!) and yes, I did care.  I had a good boyfriend (eventually) but he went to a different school, and my friends didn't really like him anyways.  I didn't care what they thought about him -- I thought he was perfect.  My friends were cool, to me, but they were as strange as I was so they didn't count to lessen my teenage angst.  I didn't particularly think I was pretty (I thought I was pretty ugly, but that was 15).  I look back and realize I was good looking but that doesn't help me now.  I was horribly shy -- to the point that walking across campus was sometimes painful (are they staring at me, does my butt shake, do I have dirt on my butt?) Then my boyfrind broke up with me (I have nothing to compare you with, so I don't know if you're the best).
     I met my future husband.  Hate at first sight but I still couldn't find it in myself to tell him to just go away.  I couldn't hurt his feelings like that.  I ran to my friends house before he came over just to avoid him.  He was still there when I came back that evening.  I married him because I felt it was fate, not because I particularly wanted to.  Have you ever had that feeling that you had to do something, want to or not?  I had a kid first, a big failure in my parent's eyes.  I married too young (#2).  I didn't immediately go to college or get a job and when I did go to school, I dropped out after 1 semester. I later went back for two other semesters, but I didn't know what I wanted, so I didn't finish anything.  I divorced my husband (I left, he filed).  This lead into a big child custody suit over my daughter,  Mistake #(who's keeping track, boys and girls?).  My parents flet I should have never left her with him when I was moving and I should have filed agaist him.  After all, I was the one with bruises and he has a temper, but I never thought he'd do something like that to me.  The divorce wasn't generally bitter.  After he did what he did to cause the bruises, there was nothing else.  I didn't feel he needed to be bitter anyway.  He had Dw and he seemed to like her better anyways.  My parents felt that I didn't fight hard enough for my doughter and I should have come up with something to make the judge rule in my favlor.

Then I move in with a man my mother had disapproved of since high school.  By all rights I should have been with him after D and I broke up, but when I was lonely and calling around to all the people in my phone book Wayne was in LA and unreachable and Paul was home.
     Paul and his wife Lara were firends of mine since I was in junior high.  I would hang out with Lara before she married Paul.  So anyway, Lara was away at trucking school trying to find her direction.  Paul was lonely and so was I.  We started hanging out and when Lara got sick and had to quit trucking school she brought along her friend Ny, whom she said was perfect for me.  Keep in mind I was 16 at the time.  Who was she to tell me who was perfect for me?  For the next month or so they pushed us together every chace they had and while I was a little lessshy and more self-confident than I had been even a year ago, I still couldn't tell them to quit or tell him that I didn't like him.  So began that, but back to the story.

I moved in with Wayne and had another child (out of wedlock).  Wayne and I got into a lot of fights and there was screaming and yelling and yes, hitting.  The cops were called three separate times, by Wayne and I'm surprised he would even chance it, since I was the one getting beat on.  No, there was no black eyes or broken bones, but we both have teeth scars and I did manage to straighten one of my stubborn, crooked teeth on his hand once.  The cops told us "you do know that this is not a healthy realationship, don't you?" All we could do was laugh.  His drugs and my inability to leave was, at best "unhealthy".  Well.  He has been off drugs for the past four years (it finally got through that no matter how hard it was for me or the fact that I had nowhere to go, that I was going to leave and one of those days he wasn't going to be able to stop me.) and I have a job, such as it is.  I could leave right now, and sometimes I still want to.  I have gone from being my parent's daughter to my husband's wife to my greatest admirer's best nightmare.  I have never been on my own and sometimes it seems like too much to bear.  I keep on, doing my best and occasionally life really sucks, but I hope it gets better.  I'm only 25, this can't be all there is.

On a better note, went and did my taxes tonight and it was good news!  Woo hoo!   Bills are going to get chucks bitten out of them and chewed like a Black Angus dinner!