How do you save the damsel if she loves her distress? Answer: You Don’t. So now it was going to have to be about saving myself. And the next step in this journey of discovering me was to figure out more ins and outs about me that not even I knew. Why did I make the decisions I did? Why do I do the things I do? What is it about me that leads myself into a situation that inevitably blows up in my face? Seriously, these are hard ass questions to face and you must have a thick skin and a solid stomach to venture into this type of unknown, this type of Abyss and I wasn’t sure I possessed either. But onward we went. On this quest I started to have a ton of teenage trouble with my daughters. To the point that being bed ridden, working from home and still in pain did not bold well to being a sufficient parent. I searched for help in many different places; family, friends, school system and eventually I got down to the last person I could go to: Gingham. He was in fact her father, he did have quite a reprieve of parenting over the past thirteen years, it was time he stepped up. I called and explained that I had used up all my aces and needed his help. I went as far as to beg him for help, to come back to NJ and aid me in this labyrinth of teenage angst. Much to my surprise he agreed. Shortly thereafter he packed his things and arrived back in NJ. The agreement was he would live with us while searching for an apartment and a job. He would help with all aspects of parenting while I was incapacitated and would learn what being an everyday parent was like. He was walking into the lion’s den if you ask me, but none the less I needed help and he was it. I didn’t realize he was coming for me and not my children although I should have known that. Every time he and I ever spoke we did one of two things; Fight or he told me he loved me. Every time for the past thirteen years. I knew he loved me, I still know he loves me. He tells me and my children all the time. His mother calls me often, not as often as in the early years, but often enough to let me know he still loves me and me and the girls are the most important things to him. I believe this, but he and I don’t work. We are so great as friends, not as a couple. He lasted 11 days. 11. I went back to my first day of work in the office and when I arrived home he and all his stuff were gone. Just gone. Like in Gone Girl, but minus the staged kidnapping scene. I didn’t call to ask where he was, I didn’t call to see what was going on. I knew what went on. I had said he and I would never be together and he left. While no one was watching. He left us…..again. That was really the tipping point for my kids. Their father coming back and leaving again was almost more than they could handle. And I got the brunt of it as always. Things like “You should have known” and “Why would you do this” and “You are so bad at this” Words that struck like knives through my heart cause even though it hurt…they were right. I should have known, but I hoped for the best. Always. That’s another thing I learned about myself. I am legitimately surprised when people let me down, even if they’ve done nothing but let me down over and over again. I find it inconceivable for people to not think the way I do. Narcissistic maybe, but I was taught by my therapist that if I constantly compare people to how I would act then I will always be disappointed. And I was. Cause I did. I thought things like “I would never do that.” and “If it were me, I’d be there for my kids no matter what” I didn’t have the option to just leave. And if I did, where would I go? Those girls were a part of me, wherever I am, they are. We are a package deal. And I was good with that. Now I had to find a way for me to work on myself, keep my daughters above water and hope for a man to ride in on his horse…..yea right.