There’s something very awkward about having a public persona.
We live in a world where people Google you after you first meet. They make assumptions about you and know tidbits about your life that are most likely, way out of context.
The publicity was necessary. I wanted to make sure Jason didn’t go to prison.
There’s a lot of things that can’t be put on the record or the judge won’t allow it to be on the record. It was important to me that our story be told so Jason could get the help he needed.
I advocated so hard and so fiercely that it took a lot from me.
When the dust settled, it was like standing on a hill of rubble after a tornado had just torn through your life. You look around at the damage and you don’t know where to start.
Your home is gone. Your life is gone. Everything is destroyed.
You’re standing there alone. With nothing.
You’re naked and the world can see you.
They point at you, some with sympathy. Some judge. They give you advice you never wanted. The worst are the looks of pity. (It’s not to say I don’t appreciate the concern but, it’s a strange feeling to be looked at that way.)
The people you miss won’t touch you. The people you want to stay away, are always there. It’s such a paradox.
The truth is, despite all the publicity, no one, not even Jason, knows the half of it. Jason has very poor memory of his psychotic episodes. And yes, I now say episodes. The fact is, this isn’t one out-of-the-blue thing.
I’ve lived this reality for the past 8 years. Although BOTH of us sought help, no one, for whatever reason, believed us and he was NEVER referred to psychiatry.
I played nurse, doctor, wife, friend, psychiatrist, pastor — anything that anyone needed. I’m a fiercely loyal and passionate person. I put up with more than people realize (I’m not just talking about Jason here) because I actually, believe it or not, don’t publicly air out my grievances.
Despite my ongoing presence on social media, things aren’t what they seem. No matter how it appears, I’m actually a very private person. I don’t share every little detail or every little thought.
Trust me, damaged little me, has A LOT of thoughts.
A lot has been happening. A lot will continue to happen. Despite this, my updates have become fewer and far between.
Some things are true: I’m taking this time to rediscover myself. Figure out what I want. Re-ignite the fire I used to have before I made myself or allowed others to make me small.
I could never get past the sheer amount of tragedy that has been in my life for the past 5 years. I feel like it started with the two miscarriages then, my business closing, my step-dad being in a coma for 8 months, my mom getting stage 4 cancer, my step-dad then dying, my mom dementing and my husband developing mental illnesses, all the while, giving birth and caring for three beautiful tiny humans.
It’s funny, I feel like the trial ending was the moment that forced me to “get over” it all.
It sparked something in me that really forced me to accept that life is just hard. That it’s not just me. I need to figure out how to get past this without losing myself again. I want to grow, not shrink.
A couple of weeks back, I was chatting with someone I had just met. Not wanting to share the intimate details of my life, I kind of just said, “I have a lot of sh*t going on.”
To which he said, “Do you think because your name is Precious, it makes you special? We all have problems.”
It’s funny because I really took that statement to heart. It sounds harsh and yet it’s actually what I needed to hear.
Life is full of tragedy. The most important thing is to reflect, learn the lessons and take those lessons with you as you move on. They help you make better decisions. They help you become a better person. They help you become happier.
The sooner you realize that you can’t escape the pain that is life, the better you’ll be able to cope.
The thing is, I’ve been coping. There’s been bandaid after bandaid on every wound. But now, I don’t want to just cope. I want to be happy.
I don’t even know where I’m going with this.
Just know that no matter how open I may seem online, the only way you will ever truly know me is make an offline effort.
If you really want to get to me, then get to know me. Don’t Google me. Seriously.
The Precious Mama. She’s not me. She’s an online character that represents parts of me.
Knowing the real me takes effort. I don’t even know me.
Anyway, God bless and HAVE AN AMAZING SUMMER!