February & March used to be my all time favorite months, favorite seasons . If you’d have asked me 20 years ago, what time of year, or which season is my favorite? I’d have told you March. Fast forward 10 years & I’d have called it, ‘ my season.’
My season’s start and end date may or may not have always been the same, I can’t quite remember, but I do know that it would only slightly depend on the weather of that year. It generally falls somewhere between February… March & April, sometimes May 😜. You’d have probably told me I was crazy if you heard me.
My season wasn’t really based on weather, at least not the way regular seasons are, but by Spirit, by Feeling, by the things I did and the people I saw. For years and years every time my Season came around, came a new group of friends to enjoy it with. Actually, and also for years and years, every time my season came back around, so would some of the same people. It was like, it was our season, our time we had for each other. ( or was it more like… we could only stand each other during these months? This amount of time? )
Of course, some of these people were Year rounders, and we’d venture out with our seasonal friends together, but the most important part is that this season always brought us a brandy new group of kick a$ people to go do some kick a$ $h!T with!!
I swear, I had always met the coolest people during my season. I had always had the Most fun I’d had all year, during my season. For years of my life, almost all of my teenager-hood. Not to say that I didn’t have fun, or that I never met new people during the rest of the year, and not to say I hated the rest of the year, because none of that is true. It just so happens, that I made some of the best memories of my life during my season. Because it was my season.
As a matter of fact, I met some of the most important people in my life, some of my favorite people, in the Summertime. I can still remember some of my favorite memories that took place during the summer, with some of the people that I’ll never ever forget.
I make my own seasons, and I love every single one of them, I’m just talking about this 1 specific season today because; as much as I loved it almost all my life, I now equally cannot stand it today. I don’t hate the memories or the friends or even the regrettable adventures, ( I don’t regret even the regrettable, not even for a moment, not even the ones in Randolph 😜 ) .
What I hate is , what it has taken from me.
A friend, an ex lover, 2 lovers, a best friend for life, a pregnancy, a partner in crime, a soulmate and time. That isn’t even the half of it, and I’m sure it’s not done yet.
I can’t say it has been all bad. I was given one of the most precious gift’s on this Earth in February 5 years ago. My LuLu❤️.
There are many many things, many times, many dates, many memories & many people, that I am grateful for and grateful to my season for. I am grateful, grateful for every experience I’ve ever had. Grateful that today is February 28th, 2022 and I’m here at home with my family. I’m not in jail, I’m not gone, I’m not using, I’m not in pain, I’m humble. I’m grateful to and for every day of life, but that is just not what this is about. This is about what I always thought was my time of year.
This is about why I stopped loving my season, the season of February, March and April (&sometimes May) as much as I did 10+ years ago.
I think there have been many of my seasons that have since passed without incident, but I also could be 100% wrong.
I’ve learned to take the good with the bad, to smile when I’m sad, to remember what I’ve got & to remember what I have.
So with that being said, here is what I remember.
February 2010.
The good : This was when my DH & I became us. ‘Twas a little messy at first, and it all started in a dark, cold basement, over a game of strip uno. We were both all over the place at that time, but that was okay, it worked at the time.
The bad: Well, for starters, I had just fully upgraded from pills to H the month before. I was drinking way to much ( which is nothing new). Clearly the two helped get me to this next memory. My first time in Prison. The first time I was wrongfully taken from my child, due to her fathers anger and spite. My first restraining order, a random crazy, party that I crashed, and a *67 prank phone call that I never should have made.
2012 just wasn’t the greatest year all around. i cannot remember anything specific of that atm, but I’m sure I will later when I’m much less distracted. – I just remembered as I was typing up 2013. February 2012 I had relapsed. It was when DCF came along. They intended to take my children away, but they didn’t until that May. 2012 was a really bad time for me all around.
January & February 2013 . Let’s start with New Years Eve. My DH & I had spent the entire month of December in what felt like a dream. We nodded through Christmas and that was when and why I made the decision that brought me to NYE. I made a promise and I kept it… at least for the time. NYE we got high for what I said would be my last time as he drove me to HighPoint, a place that I had often frequented in my many attempts at getting clean. I made it! I did it! I got through Detox& spent the rest of the month next door awaiting a bed at a halfway house. I was really doing it this time! The farthest I had ever gotten. I had a blast in there with the same group of people for a month. We were the “cool kids”, the ones who’d go on to the places & the ones who’d make it. I made it to the island. I was there a month, until someone got drugs & I did NOT DO THEM– I was too busy sneaking in my script of suboxone. But still, she pointed the finger at me and I was kicked out. My season only got worse from there. It was bad. My DH had left & was running harder than he ever had.
When I told him I was home, he came home, and I went right back down with him. My probation officer was looking for me & we were sleeping in our abandoned Gym for 2 weeks. It was bad. When they finally came, they came rolling deep. 13 cop cars, 5 sherif / county cars – it was bad. It ended with me back in a prison cell. That was February 28th 2013.
I spent a month before ending up in the hole for 28 days , when I got out of the hole, they told me I was pregnant. I didn’t get out until June & that was the year I was sent back for a false positive urine & had my baby On Halloween 2013, from Prison. i didn’t get out until late November.
2013 was bad. But February 28th 2013 was my sober date.
February 2014. I suffered what was one of my closest losses at the time.
A love lost. Half a decade of memories taken away in the blink of an eye. Except for, it wasn’t. He wasn’t gone in the blink of an eye.
He was left. He was suffering. He was in and out, until he was just out. That was it. He was gone. And I’d never ever see him again. Every memory we made together, gone with him, only to stay in my mind alone. It feels like they were all just dreams.
It tore me apart at my core. My heart, my soul was crushed. I’d never felt anything like this and it didn’t look good on me.
2015 On February 28th 2015, I was working overnight and after 2 years of hard work, effort, sobriety, love & happiness , I relapsed. It wasn’t until May 15th that my DH took my children and left. It wasn’t until November 1st 2015 that I once again got sober. There were attempts, but none of them as sincere. I was getting my family back. I had done, lost, and given up, way too much at that point.
2016 January 1st my family came home. Except, our home was gone- I had lost it months before, but we needed a new start. Our new place was awful, and we stayed only a month before I realized the cockroaches. February 1st 2016 we were homeless. We stayed in a Motel in a nice area for 3 weeks until we decided to leave the state and head to family in NC. But that didn’t last more than a month & by April we were at my family home in New Hampshire & a month later, I found out I was pregnant again.
2017 January one of my Best friends passed away. One of my longest friends. One of my closest friends. She was gone, and would never get to meet my baby. We would never again play Scattegories or drinking games.
February 2017 I had my amazing little girl. My 4th amazing child, my 3rd perfect little girl. It was one of the best times of my adult life. A milestone for my family. Surrounded by family, living on 80 acres in the middle of nowhere, with our own farm and the closest Walmart a 45 minute drive. As great as it was and as wonderful as we had it there, we decided the kids needed more. I wasn’t able to see or speak to my oldest child, even with all my hundreds of attempts, daily voicemails & texts- as her father turned into the Devil , it had been a year , we needed to move closer. I couldn’t live happily any longer without my girl.
So we moved to the City, now a 40 minute ride rather than 3.5 hours, from my daughter.
Her dad put me through HELL, he made me take a, however many week DIVORCE CLASS ( we were never married) before I could even get a 15 minute phone call. I did what I had to do, and worked up to being back with my oldest daughter. I found out he got married – and once again, he was back on his spite trip, his power trip.
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