Tuesday, February 12, 2013

Aight. It's been a minute.

Taxes came in (IO's, not mine. I don't get any this year because my kids' Dad decided that even though I had helped him out monetarily in the past, & that when we split we'd agreed to each claiming one child on returns, he went ahead & claimed them both because he's a fucking asshole.)

Anyways.

I still have a buttload of presents for the kids (I've since missed my beloved son's birthday as well. Don't ask.) & IO is replacing my car. I've spent most of the day comparing insurance prices to show him later. I'm only getting liability, as I have no idea how long it'll take me to find a job back in AR.

I really wanted to be home by this weekend, but it's not going to happen.

For one, I discovered that the house phone records the previous 20 numbers that've been dialed. They can't be deleted. SO I got my ass reamed for calling 2 very dear friends that I'm "not allowed" to speak to.

This isn't your fault. Don't worry about it.

What this means is that I've inadvertently given him another reason to suspect my actions. Which means that he's going to find 50 more reasons to drag his feet on the car tip. There's not much I can do but attempt to get back into his good graces & wait.

A lot of people are wondering why I put up with all of this. Some have questioned whether or not everything is as bad as I report it to be BECAUSE I'm still putting up with it.

Let me lay this out for you...

I'm 27. My parents live in Indiana & a nursing home. The only Aunt/Uncle set I'm close to lives in Colorado. My Grandmother, who would've helped & who gave me the LAST vehicle passed away 1 year ago on the 18th. My sister & I are not close & she's expecting my niece on March 1st.

I tell you that to explain to you that I have no family capable of/willing to help me. So I've been put in the position of relying on my friends.

My friends who've seen me make this very same mistake repeatedly. Who've lent me money & bedspace & time to help me STOP making this mistake. Oddly enough it's these people who're still here for me.

But they've already given me so much & done so much more than I ever deserved. I can't bear the thought of going home only to mooch rides/somewhere to sleep/food off of people to whom I'm already so deeply indebted.

On top of all of that, IO is the reason I don't have a car in the first place. He's part of the reason I've been separated from my children. He owes me big, & even his inherent assholery can't prevent him from realizing it enough to attempt to make amends.

It's fairly simple. I'm putting up with it in an attempt to get my due. Being totally dependent & having no job leads, this is how it's happening. The thought of what I'm doing is nauseating to me.

My only solace is that it'll get me back to my children.



Wednesday, January 16, 2013

I've had a couple of people ask why I don't mention the kids more often in this blog. The form of this question has ranged from "So why don't you mention the kids?" to "Yeah you must care SO MUCH about them since you never talk about them."

Here is my response:

My children. My reason for living. The whole of my heart. The apples of my eyes. They are NEVER, I repeat NEVER out of my thoughts. There are images I can't look at, words I can't say, songs I can't hear, movies & shows I can't watch because to do so will bring a million memories flooding back so strongly that I very well might drown in my own tears. My children are constantly at the forefront of my mind in a myriad of ways. When will I see them again? When I get back will I be ALLOWED to see them again? Are they sick? Are they crying? Do they miss me? Do they remember what I look like? Do they remember how I smell the way I remember their smells? Do they even want Mommy since she's been gone for 4 months? Do they even need me? How can I make them need me? I don't want to MAKE them need me, I just want them to need me. What if it's too late? What if my previous bad decisions created enough BS karma for this to be completely justified? What if I really AM a broken type of robot & can't support myself, much less them? What if I'm not good enough to be their mother? WHAT IF I'M NOT GOOD ENOUGH TO BE THEIR MOTHER? WHAT IF I'M NOT GOOD ENOUGH TO BE THEIR MOTHER? WHAT IF I'M NOT GOOD ENOUGH TO BE THEIR MOTHER?

All day. Every day. Ad nauseum.

I have found very few things that can actually draw me out of my ball of self-pity & woe long enough to stop crying & put on a happy face for a while. Save for this blog, FB is my happy face. I have a rant on there that I doubt anyone has read, but that's about it. I was crushed yesterday when I found out my good online/fet buddy Azrael had lost control of his truck & departed this world, likely flipping us the bird as he went. But you only saw a modicum of the crying I did for a person I'd never even met face to face. I have a half-finished cthulhu beanie that I was going to trade him for nipple piercings. In the minds of many, this does not amount to a lasting friendship, but that didn't matter to my feelings. I fucking SOBBED. WEPT. CRIED MY HEART OUT over a man that I had only ever spoken to on the phone & chatted with online.

Now, how do you think that could apply to 2 of the most perfect creatures on the planet, who I carried for 9 months, birthed, raised, supported, love unconditionally, & have now been separated from simply because, in the words of their father, "It's my time now" completely overlooking the fact that he never once offered to support them on his own. Overlooking the fact that he wanted the divorce, & that I was their primary caregiver in ALL OF THE WAYS.

Can you imagine how talking about them at any length possibly makes me feel?

Wednesday, December 26, 2012

Merry fucking Ho Ho's.

Yesterday was the first Christmas I've ever spent away from my children.

IO said weeks ago that this weekend we'd go down to see my family. He reneged. His reasoning being that "Well I don't get to see my family, so it only seems fair."

For the sake of clarity, his family ALL lives in town. He didn't go see them because he didn't WANT to.

I was depressed, downtrodden, & sad something fierce. But still, I put on a happy face, & drew him his (now traditional) Holiday Smut & baked him a custard pie. I made Xmas dinner out of random shit in the kitchen, because the electric was due TODAY (about $300, since he never fully pays a bill.) It was decent mind you. Green beans, mashed TATERS & gravy, 3 cheese macaroni, biscuits, fried spinach, & 2 BBQ'd canned hams. Plus the custard pie & a pound cake w/ Xmas decorations. While I did all of this he slept & played video games.

I STILL got accused of "ruining Christmas" due to my depression.

ALSO...

His daughter calls at about 4. "Can you come & pick me up?"
"Nope! Not coming to pick you up. Bye now!"

Me: "Why won't you go get her?"
Him: "What? And let her & her mother walk all over me?"

O.o

I retract the previous entry in which I stated that he loved his daughter. He obviously couldn't fucking care less.

This was reinforced by this exchange about an hour later.

Me: "Why are you so moody?"
Him: "Oh, so YOU can be moody 'cos YOUR kids aren't here but I can't?"

NO. NO YOU FUCKING CAN'T. YOUR child is FIVE FUCKING MINUTES AWAY FROM YOU, yet you WON'T go pick her up on FUCKING CHRISTMAS DAY. MY children are SIX HOURS AWAY. You SWORE you would take me to see them, but you reneged on that shit, which was of course, MY fault. Because me being eternally depressed & sobbing constantly wasn't enough of a reminder for you to fucking make good on your promises.

But you know what? ALL of this, EVERY SINGLE FUCKING OUNCE, is FINE. FUCKING FINE. WHY?

Because now I know 100% for certain that I wasted 3 years on your STUPID ass.
Now I know that you care for NO ONE but yourself.
Now I know that all you want is CONTROL. When you don't get it, you act like a CHILD.

And now? Just as soon as I possibly can be, I'm DONE with you. 100% DONE.

Saturday, December 22, 2012

An Open Letter to IO


You'll be 36 in 20 days. You have a 13 year old child.

And yet you found it necessary to call me a bitch in the middle of busy hellmart because instead of poring over the same aisles of overpriced McShit electronics for roughly 45 minutes as is your habit, I wanted to look at yarn.

I didn't even suggest that you NOT pore over the same aisles of overpriced McShit electronics for roughly 45 minutes as is your habit.

I simply suggested that WHILE you did that, I'd be looking at yarn. I can spend 45 happy minutes looking at yarn, no thang. Really.

I realise that when something holds no interest for you that, like a spoiled child, you see no point in acknowledging it. I just thought (stupidly I might add) that you could overlook that, as I'd be approximately 3 aisles away, & you don't need me with you to decide to spend money on stupid shit for yourself as opposed to our children.

I now realise that when I think, it results in my being called a bitch in front of incredulous onlookers.

Thank you SO FUCKING MUCH for teaching me this lesson. I also hope your dick turns black and rots off t('-'t)



Merry Fucking Xmas

Thursday, December 20, 2012

So...

S'been (about) a month. I've reintroduced myself to FB (pseudonymically, of course) & have been in contact with more people & such. It's still addictive as ever it was.

I sprained my ankle the weekend of the last post & had to be off it as much as possible for the following 2 weeks. This past Monday I resumed my regime.

I got called a "niggerlover" by the insignificant other because I have in fact, been with 2 black men in my life. When I mentioned that I'd told him that before I ever came up here originally, his response was "(Real name) you always say you told me about things when it's convenient." O.o I don't know how "convenient" telling anyone about my sexual history is...no. Just no. I fucking told you, & you said "No big deal." Now I'm a racial slur. I really wish you'd mentioned that shit before I wasted ANY time on you.

Also, this morning I realized that I'd been nauseous for three mornings in a row for no apparent reason.

I'm hoping like a baby cobra whose just spotted a 'roided out mongoose that it's flu. That way I have a valid reason to stay in bed & feel miserable, plus I'll drop like 15 pounds.

(OHPLEASEOHPLEASEOHPLEASEOHPLEASE LET ME BE ILL. I DO NOT WANT TO BE THIS CRAZY BASTARD'S BABY MAMA. I HAVE A DAMN UNCOMFORTABLE REPLACEMENT IUD IN & WE'VE BARELY TOUCHED EACH OTHER IN WEEKS OHPLEASEOHPLEASE...)

-sigh-

You're barely worth the facepalm of the niiiiight...



Anyways.

I don't see myself making it down for xmas. Since the insignificant other (IO from now on) couldn't tag his car because he & his brother (who sold him said vehicle) are fucking morons who don't feel the need to brief themselves on the motor laws of the state in which they're selling/buying a goddamn vehicle, they both have to sign some shit before a notary & sign the title in the right fucking places. This entails them both taking off work during a weekday for about an hour to do this shit, which I don't see happening anytime soon.

The fact of the matter is, I really thought he'd have this taken care of by now, if for NO OTHER reason than to keep himself from getting fined for driving a vehicle w/ 3 month expired tags. He doesn't know the cops around here well enough to get out of that shit, so WHY is he...nevermind. That particular path of thought is NEVER not NEVER no NEVER fruitful.

Also, I spent every fucking penny I had (& rolled) on xmas gifts for the kids. Fairly nice ones too.

$150 of Mommy trying to buy the time she lost



But alas.

All I can do at this point is remember that tax season is coming up, & refunds, & wait. And bide. And wait. And bide. And hope like fuck that it's enough.


Tuesday, November 27, 2012

We can file this under More Shit That Annoys Me.

Dear Evette Holyfield,
 
      I'm having an issue with the design of the medal you're supposed to be receiving for keeping your legs closed, especially since you "don't have those desires". I started sexing it up when I was 15 (that's ELEVEN YEAAAAAARS AGO) & I can assure you that, despite my efforts, I have yet to sleep "with the whole world".


Dear People Who Interviewed Her,

      Is there a reason I'm supposed to give a fuck?


Is this really a day in age where people must constantly be validated for being themselves, which SHOULD require little to no effort? I mean I understand that if you're queer in the deep south (been there) that being yourself is a struggle. I understand that if you're a Christian in the Middle East, being yourself is damn near deadly. THOSE are fucking struggles. I know there are loads of other examples, but fuck you, I went with those.

People who go on (& on & on & on) about "still" being virgins, or not ever smoking or doing drugs, etc etc should be smacked repeatedly with a rolled up newspaper for at least one good 10 minute stretch. GOOD FOR YOU. I DON'T GIVE A FUCK, AND YOU'RE GODDAMN ANNOYING!


I did 2 miles today. My under-ass-cheek/hip is swollen now, but doesn't hurt any more than it did -le sigh- In relation to diet & exercise; today I realized that for most of my life I've been using the phrase "I'm hungry" erroneously. Maybe you've been doing it too. Earlier I vocalized to the empty house that I was "SO FUCKING HUNGRY"...before realizing that I was full. I'm not hungry, I want hand-to-mouth movement to replace smoking. I want something to do. I may be restless, bored, & unfocused; but not hungry.

Hence, KNITTING! I'm currently knitting mah Mama a hat & matching cigarette holder (because when you're 53 & in a nursing home, you deserve every vice ever) using Lion Brand Homespun in Amethyst...


No, I didn't crochet that. I used the pic to show the colourway. You can actually buy that nifty infinity scarf here.



In other BREAKING NEWS, I officially want a chihuahua. We can blame Jenna & Marbles.

PLZ TO GIB LUBS?!

Today dawned bright & lovely. A bright, cold morning.

Perfect for the jog I shouldn't go on but am anyways.

I shouldn't because while doing my 3 miles yesterday, I felt a sharp, sudden pain under my right ass cheek which extends around my hip. I did my own research. Since it's not in the hamstring area, it's apparently either Ischial bursitis, Pyriformis Syndrome, or BONE CANCER (! O.o !)

I'm chalking it up to nerve pain due to not stretching. We'll see how this works.

Why am I risking certain bodily damage? Well...

I still have no form of government ID. If this is bad, I'll need to go to a doctor. Doctor's require ID. It's manipulative, yes, but I've already tried the more straight-forward methods of asking, pleading, & begging to be taken to request another SS card. Then a birth certificate. Then an actual state-issued ID.

You never know how much you need that shit until you ain't got it.

Shit I've needed an ID for in the past 3 months:

  • Reestablishing ownership of my hacked gmail account (got around that with my awesome fucking photographic memory)
  • Having & keeping my fetlife account deleted
  • Keeping an open facebook account (I also have no cell phone)
  • BUYING FUCKING BOOZE (the night guys at the gas station are obviously blinded by my radiant beauty & are rather missing the bags under my eyes & the fact that I try to buy microbrews, not a 30 pack of Beast/wine coolers)
  • Since I'm still jobless, attaining minor government aid

Like I said, manipulative. And yes, it bothers me. But if at first, second, & third you don't succeed, try a different goddamn approach. Giving up is no longer an option.

I'm actually stoked to give myself permission to still walk (no jogging for a while) as I've grown quite fond of my regime. It's nothing complicated & certainly not expensive. Hopefully someone as broke & dependent as I am will stumble across this & be able to do some good for themselves as well.

Also: Hey ex-ish husband! You DO realize that the absolute highest point of EVERY day is talking to my children, correct? THEN KEEP YOUR FUCKING PHONE CHARGED!


Your god dislikes your face