This is one of my favorite hymns, but I couldn’t get through that last sentence. I imagined myself singing it, but my voice wouldn’t work.

It’s mothers day, everything about today is celebrating me and the life I’m providing for my children, the children in my church brought me a rose, the worship director sang a song commending the job we do everyday.

But I can’t find my strength. I can’t stop crying. I can’t stop feeling this way. I can’t stop feeling like a failure. I’m struggling to remind myself of all the good things in my life. I sought help earlier this week and she confirmed what I already knew.

Depression has set it. In the most clinical way possible. I don’t really have a reason to be depressed, my life isn’t perfect but it isn’t horrible either. My brain just simply has a chemical imbalance. She recommended anti-depressants.

The last time I went through this I had a newborn. I was being told what a bad mother I was. Depression was something I could grasp, understand.

I can’t understand it now. I can’t grasp it now. I’m screaming at myself “Snap out of this! There is no reason for you to feel like this!”

But I can’t. I have never felt so completely out of control.

It’s mothers day. And I don’t feel like I should be be acknowledged. Despite all encouragement surrounding me.

But I do.

I feel like a different person than I was ten years ago. I keep trying to figure out how I got here. Where am I going from here? Will I feel this way ten years from now? Should I be talking to someone about these feelings of inadequacy? It’s probably a good thing that I’m starting counseling again. As long as I can remember the appointment.

Thats the other thing. Memory loss is normal, every mom goes through it. But I don’t think it was suppose to be this severe. I would literally forget my head if it weren’t attached, and I’m not just saying that. In the normal course of the day I would say I forget 95% of things that cross my mind. It has started impacting my sleep. I have to stay up past 11:30 if I have any hope of sleeping till 6, then I have to drink a minimum of 3 cups of coffee to even start feeling functional.

I’m really hating all of this. I just want to feel normal again. I want to stop feeling out of control. Because I’m not. Once again, my life is actually going well, I have an awesome guy to go out with every now and then, I have a great job, and amazing kids that love me almost as much as I love them. The few stresses I have are rapidly disappearing.

I shouldn’t feel this way.

Six words that I have longed to hear for almost four years now. “I’m granting the permanent restraining order.” Six little words and I was flooded with relief. Tears streamed down my face, mascara ran, my whole body was shaking, I was suddenly aware of the cold that encompassed that courtroom.

Two weeks ago the same magistrate informed me that there was no way he would make the temporary restraining order permanent. I walked into that courtroom already defeated. I had no hope that anything good would result from that hearing. The only sliver of hope I had was that maybe I could lay out the history of abuse, show the magistrate exactly what kind of person he is, and convince him that this restraining was for me, not my child. I’m the one that gets shoved, pushed, hit, called names, etc.

“Yes, he has visitation of my daughter. Every other weekend. I would love to stop that, but this hearing isn’t about that case. I have to fight that somewhere else. This is about the fact that I know, without a doubt in my mind, that he would kill me if he had the chance.  I’ve tried to stop it, I can’t. I left him almost four years ago but I can’t stop it. He has pushed me, shoved me, hit me, cut me, and emotionally he has ripped me apart. He will continue to do this to me until you stop him. That is the only way.”

The magistrate believed me. My ex showed his true colors with all the arrogance in the world and I now have a permanent restraining order. And it feels so good… Almost like a brand new life has begun.

Driving through Highlands Ranch, Slacker and Steve on Alice 105.9 had just announced that they had a surplus of tickets to give away, but there was a catch (there always is).
Steve claims that he can tell when ANYONE is lying.

So here’s the deal. Call in with two headline type stories, you know, involving celebrities and that kind of thing. One has to be true, one has to be a lie.

Hmm… What is my truthful headlining story… Oh yeah! My brief run in with Hank Williams Jr at 6 months old. The run in that involved me being naked. Perfect.

I called. Multiple times. Gave up at one point. Was reminded by my four year old that she wanted tickets. To what, she had no clue, but she did want them. So I called again, and by the grace of God my call went through. The producer answered after a minute.

“Alice 105.9, what is your true story?”

“Hank Williams Jr has seen me naked”

“Seriously? Wow, ok, what is you’re lie?”

“I sold DirecTV door to door to a Denver Bronco”

“I love that, hang on one second and I’ll patch you through to the guys. Doesn’t matter which story you tell first, just keep it short and simple. Good luck!”

A few minutes later…

“Brenna!”

“Yi!”

“Yi! Give us your two headlines”

“I sold DirecTV door to door to a Denver Bronco and Hank Williams Jr has seen me naked”

“You’ve actually done door to door sales?!”

“Yup, sure have”

“Name one of Hank Williams Jr’s songs”

Mind goes blank…. “Um, the football one”

“You are so lying, Hank Williams Jr has not seen you naked and you sold DirecTV door to door to a Denver Bronco. That was way too easy!”

“Actually, Hank Williams Jr has seen me naked and I only sold a phone line to the Bronco, not DirecTV”

“What?! Are you serious?! How did this happen???”

“Well, I was six months old and quite the little acrobat so I frequently stripped off my clothes when my mom put me in a sleep sack type thing to go run errands. Hank Williams Jr was in my hometown for a goose hunt or something, knew my mom, and when he saw us coming out of the post office he wanted to see the new baby (me). He proceeded to pull me out of the sleep sack where he discovered I was completely naked”

“Oh my God… I should have asked how old you were… Well congratulations, you’re heading to the Nuggets 1st playoff game!”

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how I won Elizabeth’s beloved tickets. Stayed tuned for our Nuggets experience!

Spring is especially amazing with children. They notice the changes happening, they ask questions and I get to share the amazing things God gives to us. Lilacs bloom because of the snow he gave us during the winter, birds sing their melodies because he has brought them back from the south. So many things to discuss and discover.

He has done all of this and more over the past six and a half years. And yet, when I file papers to protect myself, I get looked at as though I’m just one of ‘those’ moms.

‘Those’ moms that for whatever reason, have decided to do whatever it takes to keep the father of their children away, even if he’s a good dad.

I’m NOT one of those moms. My ex really is abusive, my ex really does want to hurt me, and has on hundreds of occasions. He will continue to do so until somebody tells him to stop. I’m not that person, I can tell him to stop all day long and it won’t happen. It is the judicial system that we elect, we hire, we pay. They are the only ones that can stop him.

Because of ‘those’ moms though, I’m being unfairly categorized, stuck in a never ending cycle of abuse. Fuck. That seems to be the most appropriate word right at this moment.

“Mommy! Those boys are on the roof!”

Driving down Broadway, heading home from the grocery store, stopped at the stop light, I turn quickly, fully expecting to see some wild Highlands Ranch boys stuck on a roof, daring one another to jump. Nope, no such thing existed.

“Elizabeth those aren’t boys, those are men and they’re working on the roof”

“Why would they do such a thing Mommy?”

“Because sometimes houses leak water and the roof has to be repaired to stop the water.”

“Wow. That’s amazing Mom.”

Today my horoscope was actually helpful though! “Be slow to speak and quick to think”. Yep, I definitely needed that reminder, especially with the amount of tension I’ve been feeling over the last few days.

Don’t discount your horoscopes people, it could literally save your day from becoming a bad one!

Seven months since he told me to come over for pizza.

Seven months since I had to stand on my tip toes to kiss him for the first time.

Seven months since he made me laugh with his witty and sarcastic sense of humor.

We’ve had a few firsts together.  We started writing books together. I got my first ride on the back of a motorcycle with him confidently guiding the bike through traffic to lunch. New restaurants, unexpected TV shows and movies, uncontrollable laughter at clothing choices… It’s been an incredible seven months.

Recently we had a discussion though. Is this going anywhere? We both put our guards up and said no. This is as good as it’s going to get. We’re comfortable here and that’s all we want. No commitment, no pressure, no planning for the future.

I left with the full expectation that it was my last night with him.

I cried.

I wasn’t ready for it to be over, I didn’t want it to be over. But I thought to myself, “it’s fine. I’ll find someone else. There has to be someone out there that can make me laugh like him, hold me like he does, require nothing from me except that I be myself.”

Then he called. Or texted, I can’t remember. He wanted to go out. So we did. Again. And again. This weekend we went to a wedding. His step brothers wedding. I met the family, watched a couple commit their lives to one another, saw the event unfold as I imagined my own wedding someday. It won’t be in April, it will be in November. The colors won’t be the same, the best man and maid of honor speech won’t even be similar. I do know one thing though. There is a man I want standing with me, and the more I think about it, the more it becomes clear to me that after seven months this isn’t just lust. Is it a completely mature love? No. Am I ready to walk down the isle? No. Is there still room for growth between us? Absolutely. And I fully intend to take as much time as I want to build it into a relationship that I hope will last for the rest of our lives.

Most days I’m okay with not having a best friend. Most days I can push the devastating feeling of not having that confidant on the other end of a phone line. Most days I can lie to myself and say that I have plenty of friends, it doesn’t matter that none of them know me like Ti did.

Today is not one of those days.

I’m tired of this feeling. I’m tired of lying to myself, and more importantly to everyone else. And I’m REALLY tired of hearing other women complain about their lives.

Why can’t they see it? Why can’t they see how desperate I am for a best friend? Is it my fault for not being more dedicated to developing that friendship? My fault for not being more open about myself? All I know is that I look at my life and it’s a pretty good one. I have two amazing kids, a great job, a pretty awesome guy to go out with every now and then.

But it isn’t enough. Everywhere I look, there are women with best friends. Other women that go shopping with the other, get mani/pedi’s with, go out for Valentines dates when neither one has a husband to go with. They walk down the aisles of Target together, post pictures of fun times on facebook, give each other hugs in Sunday school.

It’s a big hole missing from my life.

And I hate it…