When Survival Looked Like Strength -But Really?
- Mizzy Bender
- Jan 27
- 7 min read
Updated: 5 days ago
I've thought about writing this story so many times and each time I am shocked by the way I so nonchalantly went about my day after the ridiculous night that unfolded.
A few pieces of information that will be important to know.
#1. At that time in my life I never wanted to own a house. As I look back on it, I know it was because I never wanted to feel so committed to my life. I think I wanted to feel free even though I felt stuck. But, through my life story blogs, you may have remembered Super Storm Sandy changed things.
#2. I did always dream of being a homemaker per se. I wanted to bake. I wanted to cook glamorous meals. I wanted to decorate like my house was in a magazine. I wanted to fulfill my old school soul, with my apron and over mitts.
#3. Easter celebrations always started with an Easter Egg hunt leading to finding the basket. The hunt was set up with about 10 riddles, that were fun and thoughtful. This tradition was set up well before me and it was what my ex-husbands parents did for him. So it was only natural that we continued it on for my stepson. I would like to mention that I hated this part. I was not good at creating the clues.
It was fine for a while because my father-in-law would help me get things in order. It was very rare that my ex was coherent enough to help. Which of course was aggravating in itself. I never allowed his alcoholic issues to ruin or impact his son's holidays. I worked extra hard to keep them happy and fun.
Eventually, and sadly, my father in law left us and I was a lone ranger managing things alone.
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EASTER EVE 2014
It was Easter Eve and we still had the clues to create. It was promised to me that we would tackle it later on in the night. As the time was passing, I was realizing that my ex was getting drunker and drunker.
I kept asking over and over to get the clues done. Eventually he drank so much he fell asleep. Imagine the anger flowing through me. I was furious. This mother fucker couldn't keep it together for his own son. That made me resentful. In the sense of …. This is your tradition. This is your child. Now, I want to stress how much I love my step son, but in moments like this I become so enraged. It reminded me of why I had to stay. It was the reminder that if I wanted this child to have a “normal” life, I needed to get the job done.
But - before that things got wild.
I understand where I went wrong in this situation. I take accountability. I can not normalize what happened next.
In my moments of furry, I would make it my mission to search the house for all the hidden vodka bottles. The spots were unique and more thoughtful each time. By the time I would be done, there would be numerous bottles gathered of all sizes. I'd like to make mention that this was a normal part of my life. Pretty much weekly. And in the spiral moments, daily.
Some bottles still had vodka in them, some were empty. In my spiraling mindset, I took the bottles that still had vodka in them and poured them all over him. That surely woke him up.
Never wake a sleeping marine who in a heart beat can transfer himself back into war.
In an instant, I knew I had made a huge mistake. I don't know how it really all happened, but I do know within seconds my head was body slammed against his knee and I was unconscious.
Waking up from that realization was a very calming moment. I picked myself up, said to myself…. ok, you have clues to write. So, I wrote the clues, set up the egg hunt and locked myself in the bathroom until the next morning.
Most of the night was spent in between crying and sleeping. I needed to build up enough strength to pull myself together to host the most magnificent Easter Brunch. The attendees were my parents, my brother and sisters families and my grandma.
I could not allow them to arrive with me looking distracted and out of sorts. So around 5am I sat strong in that bathroom with a particular song on repeat, as loud as I could possibly make it.
It was a message to him that I am truly done with your bullshit. That I hated him so fucking much. I wanted him to hear the words.
It was a message to me that I am strong. I am a bad ass bitch that can do this. You have 2 more hours to sit in this mess and then you need to pull it together.
That is exactly what I did.
EASTER BRUNCH
I was always so incredibly grateful for my brother. He and I are the best of pals in every way. We share a deep connection from early childhood and it will never and can never be broken. Holidays would be and still are spent with him helping me cook. It's just our thing and frankly, I love it.
We've spoken about the distant relationship I had with my parents (mom & step dad). Because of it, I always felt an obligation to be with them on holidays. I felt like if I invited them to my house first, It would remove any guilt I felt and would hopefully put me in better graces with them. It was always ackward as fuck and so superficial in a way. I wasn’t comfortable sharing anything with them. My trust and understanding of needing their protection left long ago. Although I still craved their love in a very dysfunctional way. Going into this holiday was no different.
EASTER BRUNCH MENU
I absolutely loved the table setup. Beautifully placed tiered treats hand created by me. That was the first year I made lemon scones from scratch. They were delicious. I also created the cutest chocolate covered spoons, placing chocolate candy eggs, making little nests on each plate.
The main entree was a combination of different kinds of eggs. The most fancy creation was the hashbrowns I made into nests in cupcake pans. Once cooked, I added some bacon and cracked an egg in the center. They came out so cute. I was so impressed with my set up and spread considering the state of mind I was in earlier that morning.
As always, I pretended like everything was amazing. Was I speaking to my ex? No, barely. But I was a pro at acting like there was no tension or issues going on. So - I thought ….
Later that morning my step dad pulled me to the side asking if I was ok. He said I didn't look like myself. He said that I lost weight since he saw me last. Which, probably at that time, was Christmas. I can't be sure. He stated that he was really concerned.
I looked him dead in the face and said …. Everything is great. Don't worry.
Why? Why would I do that? Why wouldn't I have said I need help? Do you know what happened last night? I could have said something … anything … help … I don't know how to get out.
I try to understand it all myself. Was my soul so far damaged by that point, that I just didn't have the emotional capacity to process the depths of it? Was I so far used to enduring trauma and assault that it no longer registered that this was not normal living?
Did I not feel safe enough with anyone? What the fuck was it? I convince myself time and time again that I stayed for my stepson. That is absolutely true. But at some point in time, I needed to normalize my situation to survive.
How does one become normal again? Did I really survive? Because at this point, trying to release all this from my soul…. It feels pretty damn damaging and difficult.
If you’d like to explore more, my blogs are full of personal stories, resources, and thought-starters to help you navigate this path. You can also reach me directly through mizzybender.com—the safest and most authentic place to connect with me.
Until next time, I will talk to you super soon.
Xoxo,
Mizzy
The stories and experiences shared on this blog reflect my personal journey, memories, and perspective. Everything I share here represents my truth, told through my eyes and heart. This content is deeply personal, and out of respect, it should not be copied, shared, or reproduced in any manner without explicit permission. Each individual mentioned in my stories has played a significant role in my life—people I have deeply cared for, still care for, and hold respect toward. My intention is never to harm, offend, or disrespect anyone. Instead, my aim is to honestly share my experiences, thoughts, and emotions from my personal viewpoint. Please read these stories understanding that this is solely my perspective, and others involved may see or remember these moments differently.
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Background: Who doesn’t love to talk about sex and everything in between? Mizzy Bender is here to discuss all the down, dirty, and not-so-fun moments that life has to offer. Mizzy is one female who isn’t afraid to embrace all aspects of life, from sexuality to success.
Mizzy Bender is a 42-year-old female entrepreneur and influencer leading the way within the Swingers/Adult Lifestyle community. If you believe in Ethical Non-Monogamy, this is the community for you. Mizzy’s journey started with Mindbender Parties and continues as she travels the East Coast, hosting full thematic swinger events with her partner in crime, Mr. Mindbender.
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