My Need to Clear the Air ...

Let me apologize beforehand if this is jumbled from thought to thought...I can edit it later before I send it off to his ass...I'd love to be able to read it in court before they ship him off to prison....

I remember a little scene in between the kitchen and the dining room at Tarpin Ridge many years ago, right where the refrigerator was. You were standing in my face telling me that “I’ll take Bobbi Jo away from you and I’ll use whatever means I can and that includes using your own kids (like they were some kind of criminals or something) both of whom you were around since they were 1 and 5 years of age. How dare you! after all the psychological abuse we all suffered at your hands! and how dare you tell me that “if they were on fire in the middle of a road that you wouldn’t even piss on them” which was your exact words. You were supposedly the male figure who was responsible in trying to help me raise them, so what does that say about you? I just gave you two more targets to abuse, didn’t it? I also remember that I blew up at that moment, and hit you square in the face since you had yours up in mine spilling your nasty verbage, hitting you so hard the impact landed me on my ass and you threatened to call the law on me! I told you to go ahead, and that I would hit myself in the face and tell them you did it, you bastard! I unplugged the phone too. I felt possessed by a demon, enraged and fed up with your emotional attacks; I had hit the end and I was exhausted, but getting that punch in felt damn good. Yes, I remember your maniac behaviors and vile mouth in my face many times, as well as directed towards my children way back when, and these last few years with our daughter, Bobbi Jo too. Was it easier for you to abuse mine? They weren't really yours after all, you didn't father them, no you never cared at all. Did you not care about our daughter either enough to stop abusing her?

Did you sexually abuse our daughter too? Just like you did my oldest? huh? Did you touch her when she was little and she didn’t know any better? Or did you just warp her mind starting with grilling her every weekend she was at my house, only you could never see how afraid she truly was of you and how she begged me NOT to take her out there to be abused by you. I let you abuse me too, even after I divorced your ass, you would call my house and get all over me stating that Bobbi said this, and Bobbi said that, making up stuff and turning a wonderful time into something ugly for your own satisfaction? Why? She could have a perfectly wonderful time, but to hear you tell it … it was another story. You worked on her little soul and psyche and hurt her so very much. I hope you rot for all that. I tried not to argue with you because I knew you would take it out on her, I hate you for what you did to my baby, and for all those years you tried to warp her still into believing your lies…that you were the only one who truly loved her, cared about her, blah, blah … that you had to protect her from what? From her mother? From the only true love she ever felt? From my family? How dare you!

When she was 11 and you filed to take away my parental rights over some stuff you had her write on a piece of paper? Yes, over and over she would have to erase if not to your liking … and for what? Did you ever stop to think that she wanted to be with her mother? That she wanted to live with her mother? That perhaps the only reason that came about was because she was jealous that I had a granddaughter with whom I became close to because I so desperately missed her. I tried to fill a void I knew I never could until she returned back home to me, and I knew one day she would. Did you ever stop to think that her spending one night at my house on a school night was a crime? Or did you ever stop to think how much joy you took away from your own daughter? from not letting us be a mother and daughter? You tried to replace me in her life with Sandy, funny how Bobbi can see things more clearly now. Even the summers were manipulated by you, and your Disneyland shenanigans.

I made it easy for you didn’t I? I did not fight about time spent or not spent, but you sure as hell always had a problem no matter what. You even concerned yourself with Bobbi spending time with my family, which you did not allow her to do on my visitation? You made her a nervous wreck and miserable and for what? Again, another example of your manipulation and control? She came to my house one weekend around that time with bruises of your hand on her bottom, and she was way past the age of spanking. I worried myself sick over that one. Bobbi begged me not to say anything to you about it for fear of retaliation for showing me. Damn you.

And the bruise on her knee around Mother’s Day one year (2004) when I came to pick her up, you told me I’d better talk to my lawyer? I was shocked. She hadn’t been to my house in two weeks and come to find out she had a bruise that weekend before seen by a friend’s parents that I, or even worse, Rae (my oldest daughter) was accused of putting it on her? Was it that you hit her yourself to silence her enthusiasm at wanting to spend the summer here? You were a piece of work I’ll have to say, taking it all down legally and making me look like a piece of shit dragging me into court for nothing. All lies. All these years I was the emotional wreck while you were calm, cool, calculating and making it all make sense to you and to the courts? Bobbi and I were both sacrificial lambs at your evil disposal. Did you also take pride in making sure you found fault with any of her friends she made? And just forbid her to run around or talk to them? Remember Nikki? And the other girl across the street that she liked? It never mattered to you … her happiness did it? Did you never want her to make any decisions? Let her make any mistakes at all or learn how to be sociable? Because you were a loner, did you want her to become one too?

Even the first time you got temporary custody; that was some big fabricated lie too. You had a good lawyer, plain and simple, and Bobbi Jo was bought and paid for wasn’t she? Sure she had a bruise on her eye and a cigarette burn, and even I will admit that the timing certainly wasn’t right for those unfortunate accidents to have occurred, which is what they were. A screen fell out of a window she was under playing while I was trying to put it in, much to my dismay, and the cigarette burn was from her running into my cigarette at poolside. I would never ever purposely hurt my child, as you and your lawyer so implied. That event coupled with my own posttraumatic stress disorder from living with your abuse worked in your favor didn’t it? If you will remember I had also buried my father just months before and also had my oldest daughter in foster care, thanks to you. Not to mention a person that I had talked to filed charges against me for something I didn't do and I found myself in jail in the middle of my own divorce and custody battle? That case was dropped but still it left an impact. Yeah, circumstances seemed to work in your favor back then, and it didn't hurt to have a good ole boy lawyer who played golf with the judge and a father and mother who knew everybody in this horse town. She was bought and paid for. She did not deserve her fate either. I was so heartbroken.

You will never begin to imagine my heartbreak over that day, August 11th when you were awarded custody of our baby, and I know she had to feel lost without me. How in the world could people not see what you were? I was devastated. She had never spent a night away from me in her life, and I will never forgive you as long as you live for that, and for those early developing years you abused our baby emotionally, and the only payback I know for you will be that you will never be allowed to see Bobbi Jo ever again as long as you live. I hope you are tortured in prison, and die there, alone. I told you many years ago that all your evil would come back for you and it has. You might have won the battle, but I will win the war.

It seemed you always had something cooked up or would throw a rod in any happiness when it came to Bobbi Jo and me. You were always one devious step ahead, weren't you, planning and calculating your next move. She wanted to live with me and you knew it, you feared this most of all didn't you? and you tried your best to make sure you paid her off with toys and whatever she wanted, when all she really wanted was loved. When "things" didn't work anymore what did? Threats of harm to her or to those she loved? What about the time you threatened to kill her own mother? She broke down to John and me one time it was awful. We tried to alleviate her fears but you had far too much control at that point. She would destroy herself by letting herself be abused by you. Even by the time counseling was ordered, it was obvious that you would never let go of any control you had on her, and it was psychologically ingrained into her, and even removal of her from your custody would not free the situation. As fate would have it, things happen the way they do for a reason. She lived in fear of you for many years, it was heartwrenching for me, and then it came out finally in anger didn’t it? Especially over the last two years. It is not unusual, it follows a pattern of abuse. You bastard. Did you hope to warp Bobbi into never functioning outside in society? Like you? You always hid behind your mommy and daddy, didn’t you? They financed all your legal moves, even your house they paid for so as to be free of you, but they couldn’t be free of you could they? You never lived out on your own did you? Did you ever once question as to why their demise was so soon? I’m sure the stress you put them through was enormous, not to mention the worry. Even your own brother these last few months, what a shame.

I knew one day Bobbi Jo would have enough of your shit, or fate would intervene and stop your evil once and for all. Time did tell the story, didn’t it? The only comfort I had came from the fact that when Jean was still alive she would somehow protect Bobbi Jo from your cruelty, but even still your own mother walked on eggshells around you, didn’t she? And then came a stepmother Sandy to help protect my baby. You ran the house at both your parents and our home, and even when you were married to Sandy. You told everybody what to do and when to do it. Your own mother took your abuse for years, and why I will never know. Even your mother’s extended family knew what you were. Your own brother couldn’t stand you for years, so he moved off. When you kicked and hurt Dick (your own brother) breaking his ribs out there when one of your parents had died (I don’t remember which one) Bobbi saw that and she knew what you were capable of. This impacted her psyche just like seeing you shoot those little birds on the deck, or the baby raccoons. She would try to be obedient, and quiet, but that wouldn’t be enough for you would it? She could not even function at school due to the stress environment you created for her. Oh, I forgot that was MY fault too wasn't it? You covered that up so well or so you thought. All the times she was up for hours trying to get through what homework should have taken 15 minutes. I was exasperated with her what time I tried to help her with homework, but then you told her to stop bringing homework to my house. I assumed that you got her help or tested her, but you never did. Your own wife, Sandy told you that Bobbi needed to be tested. You just ordered her to "do it" without realizing that possibly she couldn't do it. Sandy told me that she or Misty would end up doing it for her. Did you ever think she might need tested for ADD because you made her life a living hell emotionally? I always thought she had ADD and needed tested and told you so. For God's sakes, she didn't even talk until I took her to speech for two years about the time you got custody of her. You never wanted to think she had any problems. Her biggest problem would be YOU. You just neglected her in this manner, another form of abuse from you. Now it's up to me to fix that too, and I will. You bastard.

What did you really want with custody of Bobbi? To get out of paying child support? Was she just a pawn so you could continue to hurt me? Why did you hate all of us so much? Did you hate me because deep down I knew you were capable of and that I believed Rae? And now look what you are accused of…Did you conveniently forget not only your vile words, but your behaviors too? Remember, you never once said you were sorry for anything you EVER did to ANYBODY...EVER. Not even your own mother. I think you are very much capable of doing everything you are accused of and believe you are both a sociopath and a psychopath.

My biggest fear has always been that you would abuse my baby sexually, but most importantly you abused her emotionally starting at the ripe young tender age of five. You are indeed a monster. I hate myself for not fighting harder, for not talking to people, for not opening up the hearbreak and exposing what you were doing to my baby many years ago. I feel responsible for what has happened to her, that I could not protect her from you, and I will fix what you messed up. I am mad at myself for being scared of you, for letting you manipulate the situation always even legally, and being scared of your retaliation against my baby and my family all these years should I have fought you more. She is finally home, you bastard. Karma is kicking your ass in the grave next, Owney. I hope you’re prepared to meet your devil maker and burn in hell for all eternity.

Dick, your own brother, felt sorry for your mother and could not stand your abuse of her. He even feared crossing you on a certain level, not wanting to fuss about anything with you for fear of not being able to see Bobbi Jo. Even these last few months, you put your brother under tremendous stress and I think he believed you guilty of the crimes of which you stand accused, and thought that perhaps if you got out that you would kill yourself facing going to prison. What is worrisome more than the abuse, is that in your sick warped assed mind you would take Bobbi Jo's life with yours as your last statement of innocence and martyrdom. You should know that your daughter does not grieve your not being in her life anymore, nor has she grieved for your brother, and seems quite contented. She learned to have no empathy from you. Deep down both Jean and Herman knew my heart and I wept many tears over their deaths and my not being able to say goodbye, despite your trying to turn them against me, but they knew your heart was cold and manipulative, and that Bobbi Jo would never thrive under your rule. Nobody who really KNEW you, believed you were capable of raising Bobbi Jo, and certainly you were not deserving of the right to do so. As far as family, blood is thicker than water, and I forgave them their trespasses. One thing I’ll say is that psychopaths are pretty convincing to people who don’t live with them. Nobody knows all your dirty little secrets, do they?

A few weeks before finding out you were taking me into court over, I had a dream which I will never forget. I had Bobbi Jo in a van and were driving, she was happy and her Barbie fell out the window. I had stopped to help her get it, but she took off running to retrieve it, and I found her quickly drowning in quicksand. Try as I might I could not pull her out or save her. I woke up screaming and crying, and it wasn't too long after that I realized you were at it again; making her life and mine a living hell.

You almost broke me, but I survived it, and so has our daughter. I suppose that at an early age you learned to control and manipulate those around you, and that would explain how you got so good at it, twisting things around to suit yourself, making others feel guilty. Even mistreating the pets was a sport for you wasn’t it? Yes, intimidation and manipulation were certainly two of your strongest attributes. Are you going to deny you beat Flattop, our dog, to death? With me and your Dad as eyewitness to your kicking her and hitting her with closed fists and the dragging her down to the house and demanding that she walk down the 20 or so steps to the basement when she could barely even stand? I had nightmares and flashbacks of abuse while I was going through my divorce from you. I went to my doctor to be put on meds which ended up making me stay up for days on end. I was suffering posttraumatic stress disorder and didn’t know it, and how conveniently it played out for you when it came to custody, huh? Not to mention having mommy and daddy's money to hide behind to finance all your legal moves, while I didn't have money for groceries at one point.

I don’t know how you got that controlling and manipulative or abusive, was it perhaps because your dad abused you with that razor strap, and you felt neglected yourself? Perhaps when you were seven years old and your parents were trying to divorce you would begin your manipulation and continue it. I bet you don't remember turning over a plate of spaghetti in front of my son who was 10 years old at the time because your mom filled your plate too full when she sat it down in front of you at the table? I was appalled, and made some lame excuse for your behavior. Why did I do that? Because your mother did? You ran that house didn't you? We all remember your ordering your mother to fix you something to eat, her waiting on you hand and foot, and you in your 30s? living in the bedroom? How messed up was that? I sometimes wonder why I ever got involved with you to begin with. Especially after the camping trip in which you ordered my kids to clean the campground after you threw a fit throwing stuff everywhere and scaring them, and my telling you I wanted to go home, that it was over between us, and I vividly recalling your playing Russian roulette on the highway passing/dodging cars telling me that if you couldn't have me, nobody would, and to think I came back for more abuse from you? Unfuckinbelievable. I think it was your mom who convinced me to give you another chance.

Bobbi Jo recalls how cruelly you treated your own mother too. She saw and took in more than you realized. Oh, I forgot you NEVER did realize that anybody else had any FEELINGS other than YOU? It was always the world according to Bob. I question why I put myself and my kids through all your torture, and I realized what I truly craved was an extended family, "grandparents who seemed genuinely concerned about my kids," and who seemed normal enough, but as time went on the truth reveals itself, and like my mother once said, "Jo, a leopard doesn’t change their spots they only learn to camouflage better." I don’t care what you’re your story is anymore, nor do I care. I want to close this chapter on my life. This letter and news of you subsequent death in prison will end it once and for all. I am glad that everybody will finally see what you've tried to hide all these years, that the monster, is YOU.

The Dating Game

Meet Fred. Fred is attracted to a woman named Martha. He asks her out to a movie; she accepts; they have a pretty good time. A few nights later he asks her out to dinner, and again they enjoy themselves. They continue to see each other regularly, and after a while neither one of them is seeing anybody else.


And then, one evening when they're driving home, a thought occurs to Martha, and, without really thinking, she says it aloud: "Do you realize that, as of tonight, we've been seeing each other for exactly six months?"


And then, there is silence in the car.


To Martha, it seems like a very loud silence. She thinks to herself: I wonder if it bothers him that I said that. Maybe he's been feeling confined by our relationship; maybe he thinks I'm trying to push him into some kind of obligation that he doesn't want, or isn't sure of.


And Fred is thinking: Gosh. Six months.


And Martha is thinking: But, hey, I'm not so sure I want this kind of relationship either. Sometimes I wish I had a little more space, so I'd have time to think about whether I really want us to keep going the way we are, moving steadily towards, I mean, where are we going? Are we just going to keep seeing each other at this level of intimacy? Are we heading toward marriage? Toward children? Toward a lifetime together? Am I ready for that level of commitment? Do I really even know this person?


And Fred is thinking: ...so that means it was...let's see...February when we started going out, which was right after I had the car at the dealer's, which means...lemme check the odometer...Whoa! I am way overdue for an oil change here.


And Martha is thinking: He's upset. I can see it on his face. Maybe I'm reading this completely wrong. Maybe he wants more from our relationship, more intimacy, more commitment; maybe he has sensed - even before I sensed it - that I was feeling some reservations. Yes, I bet that's it. That's why he's so reluctant to say anything about his own feelings. He's afraid of being rejected.


And Fred is thinking: And I'm gonna have them look at the transmission again. I don't care what those morons say, it's still not shifting right. And they better not try to blame it on the cold weather this time. What cold weather? It's 87 degrees out, and this thing is shifting like a garbage truck, and I paid those incompetent thieves $600.
And Martha is thinking: He's angry. And I don't blame him. I'd be angry, too. I feel so guilty, putting him through this, but I can't help the way I feel. I'm just not sure.


And Fred is thinking: They'll probably say it's only a 90-day warranty...scumballs.


And Martha is thinking: Maybe I'm just too idealistic, waiting for a knight to come riding up on his white horse, when I'm sitting right next to a perfectly good person, a person I enjoy being with, a person I truly do care about, a person who seems to truly care about me. A person who is in pain because of my self-centered, schoolgirl romantic fantasy.


And Fred is thinking: Warranty? They want a warranty? I'll give them a warranty. I'll take their warranty and stick it...


"Fred," Martha says aloud. "What?" says Fred, startled. "Please don't torture yourself like this," she says, her eyes beginning to brim with tears. "Maybe I should never have...oh dear, I feel so..."(She breaks down, sobbing.)


"What?" says Fred.


"I'm such a fool," Martha sobs. "I mean, I know there's no knight. I really know that. It's silly. There's no knight, and there's no horse." "There's no horse?" says


Fred. "You think I'm a fool, don't you?" Martha says.


"No!" says Fred, glad to finally know the correct answer. "It's just that...it's that I...I need some time," Martha says.


(There is a 15-second pause while Fred, thinking as fast as he can, tries to come up with a safe response. Finally he comes up with one that he thinks might work.)


"Yes," he says.


(Martha, deeply moved, touches his hand.)


"Oh, Fred, do you really feel that way?" she says.


"What way?" says Fred. "That way about time," says Martha.


"Oh," says Fred. "Yes." (Martha turns to face him and gazes deeply into his eyes, causing him to become very nervous about what she might say next, especially if it involves a horse. At last she speaks.)


"Thank you, Fred," she says.


"Thank you," says Fred. Then he takes her home, and she lies on her bed, a conflicted, tortured soul, and weeps until dawn, whereas when Fred gets back to his place, he opens a bag of Doritos, turns on the TV, and immediately becomes deeply involved in a rerun of a college basketball game between two South Dakota junior colleges that he has never heard of.


A tiny voice in the far recesses of his mind tells him that something major was going on back there in the car, but he is pretty sure there is no way he would ever understand what, and so he figures it's better if he doesn't think about it.


The next day Martha will call her closest friend, or perhaps two of them, and they will talk about this situation for six straight hours. In painstaking detail, they will analyze everything she said and everything he said, going over it time and time again, exploring every word, expression, and gesture for nuances of meaning, considering every possible ramification. They will continue to discuss this subject, off and on, for weeks, maybe months, never reaching any definite conclusions, but never getting bored with it either.


Meanwhile, Fred, while playing racquetball one day with a mutual friend of his and Martha's, will pause just before serving, frown, and say: "Norm, did Martha ever own a horse?"

What Day Is It?

Oh, it's Friday, January 23rd? Gee, I lost a few days there. I was hospitalized due to this "thing" growing on my ... what do they call that area? the soft spot between the thigh and the actual genitalia between the labia and the rectum on the left side. It was massively swollen and very painful in just a matter of hours. It made me systemically sick with fever, nausea ... ick!

I can't believe I actually worked any time at all on Monday or Tuesday due to the misery I was in just sitting down. It didn't matter though which position I was in, it was "killing me." I knew better than to go to the ER because they would have been ready to butcher me without the proper anesthesia more than likely. After all, I remember having an ingrown toenail and the ER treatment for that was just brutal, and I was not up for any brutal treatment of my perineal/vaginal area.

I called my doctor and my ob/gyn promptly Monday morning to see which one I could get into see first. One of the PA's from the gynecologist's office called me back and told me that perhaps it could be a Bartholin cyst (I never even knew I had Bartholin glands; she said most won't know unless they get backed up or infected), and that I should present Tuesday at 2:30 to the office. One look by my ob/gyn physician and a "holey moley" exclamation from his mouth let me know I was in for a hospital stay over this one.

I did present to the hospital Tuesday evening but this actual cyst/mass/whatever it was broke the skin before I got there. He had ordered me a morphine pump to use for pain, which I took full advantage of, too bad I couldn't have had that on Monday! One thing about morphine, it doesn't do a great job and it makes me meaner than a striped snake! Give me Phenergan, and I go peacefully to sleep. One 25 mg Phenergan and I'm out for at least 24 hours it seems like, or at least groggy for that long. Geeze...that is a better narcotic than the morphine!

I came home yesterday afternoon with orders for Home Health to come and pack this wound for the next few days or so to make sure it is healing properly. It is in a weird place and just gapes open, as it has to heal by secondary intention. I haven't worked since Tuesday, but hopefully by Monday morning, I can get a few hours in.

Who Me? Stressed?

 RUN AWAY QUICKLY ~!

Some days I just want to run! Just get in the car and take off not ever come back! just let the chips fall where they may!

At present sitting at my desk working typing medical reports is rather painful due to something growing down there! oh Lordy, it's purple, seems to have a knot and is tubular, and my thoughts it might be a cyst or boil doesn't seem to be the case as it is not mobile and seems solid. My groin lymph nodes are swollen as well, so a trip to the Gyno or family M.D. is definitely in order.

*update on the pubic thingy* my ob/gyn called back and said it was probably a Bartholin cyst which can be very painful and cause me to feel ill all over, which is the gospel, no kidding.  A Bartholin cyst develops when the duct exiting the Bartholin gland becomes blocked. The fluid produced by the gland then accumulates, causing the gland to swell and form a cyst. An abscess ccurs when a cyst becomes infected.  I just hope it is not some form of cancer. All I know is that I have never in my life had anything like this, so it's off to the his office at 2:30 p.m. tomorrow. 

Don't we wished there was a magical cure to all our stress-related or health-related problems? Perhaps a lengthy vacation! Being waited on hand and foot? What's your idea for a stress-sandwich cure?

Go ahead, tell me.   eeeek lunch is over, back to slavedom!

UPDATE: 

After seeing my ob/gyn, I was instructed to go directly to admissions for surgical incision and drainage of this monster thing which ended up breaking through the skin before I could get there.  Come to find out it was not a Bartholin cyst but rather a mass/abscess from something; we are not sure what.  A tissue sample as well as fluid was collected and will be analyzed and they will let me know.

The Dead Heart...

A heart shaped stump complete with ventricles.

no longer beating ... no longer necessary

sustaining no more...

Yesterday I received a phone call about a relative of sorts, "Uncle Dick". It seems his body was found in the house my teenager used to live in with her dad, stepmom and such other various foster kids, two of whom my ex is accused of committing sexual crimes against. I just read yesterday that the local courts convicted a sex offender just this week, same judge who will be trying his case. Her dad has been in jail since August and Uncle Dick (ex's brother) had been living in their house. I didn't know he was that sick, however he looked really thin and frail.  I don't think anybody realized how bad sick he was, but he had multiple health problems to include a history of bladder cancer, pancreatitis, chronic alcoholism (although he quit 8 years earlier), and diabetes. It's sad really.

Last time my teenager saw Uncle, it was a few days before Christmas when I took her out there. Him and I have been estranged for years, except for an occasional call to my residence when Bobbi was here on the weekends, and haven't had a chance to really sit down and air out the "old laundry" since he came here from Florida to handle his brother's affairs and due to the tension of loyalties due to this upcoming trial. Guess he won't be a character witness for his brother, and according to what I found out from a friend of his for almost 40 years who called today, it seems that "Uncle Dick" pretty much felt that his brother would be convicted.

Well, my teen no longer has a Disneyland Uncle, but she doesn't seem to be that bothered by it. In fact, she hasn't said a word to me about it since yesterday when I gave her the grave news. I am not surprised by her lack of empathy; after all, she was raised by her father who shut her down emotionally many many years ago, and now she is mine to fix. Lord knows I have to protect her, especially now from her own Dad. He has lost every family member he has; no mother, father, or brother and God forbid by some miracle he is not convicted because he could crack at some point, realize everything he has is gone, and take his life as well as the life of my daughter.

I remember my ex's haunting words many years ago, "I will do anything it takes to take her away from you..." and he has been a thorn in my side for way too many years, and destroyed her psyche in his quest for what? to protect her from the very one who truly loves her? Her mother? Yes, he is capable of taking her life with his, in one last selfish act.

Death Of The Uncle ..

I remember seeing him outside the car the first time a few months ago ,and I thought to myself how sick and frail he looks, and so skinny. Does he have Aids? Was the first thought going through my mind. My Bobbi didn't seem to notice or care much about his health, despite my asking her, and my concern that he would be driving? I didn't realize how really sick he was, as he never confided to me. I hate it that he and I never had a chance to clear the air, but I could have said the same of his parents, who passed on and I didn't get closure with that either. I suppose when my ex dies that will totally close that chapter in my life book too. The uncle had diabetes, and at one point had prostate cancer supposedly in remission or I was told? I don't know the cause, he had multiple health problems I"m sure. The last time I took Bobbi out there, she said he could hardly walk and the house was trashed. He would always text Bobbi ..sometimes she felt he ignored her..telling her that he had friends over and was going to friend's so I just assumed that somebody was looking in on him from time to time, as should have been the case if he chose to confide how sick he was to somebody.

The first thing, Sandy (my ex-s second wife said ..."What goes around...comes around." and she's right ...

The coroner had called me from jail I guess he had gone to tell Bob about his brother about a couple of hours ago, and he inadvertently asked me if I wanted to talk to Bob, my ex, and I said reluctantly okay thinking he wanted to talk to me or something. I could hear in his voice he was torn up, of course he would be, and I expressed to him my sympathy over his loss. That wipes out his whole immediate family, well, except for Bobbi. The only reason Bobbi got upset was because I was teared up when I told her, but she was fine really. No big display of grief or nothing. I think she was upset more that she did not get to talk to her Dad. It just is upsetting to me that Dick and I could not talk about the interests of Bobbi face to face due to the circumstances surrounding this court stuff, and that he could not confide in me how sick he truly was, so I could have provided him more time with Bobbi. All he ever did was text Bobbi on her phone. Bob said something about his dog, and asked me if I would want it, if not, let Sandy's daughter take him. He asked me to speak to Bobbi, I said not right now, and asked if he could call her sometime. I told him I would have to discuss it.

Well he's next to go. Up river.

I sit here at the moment, remembering an incident when Bob, my ex, was standing inches from my face raging his tongue at me many years ago that he would use whatever he could to take Bobbi away from me, and coupled with countless other things he had done, I realized this man was truly evil; he stood there spouting that if my other two kids were in the middle of the road on fire he wouldn't even spit on them (which he supposedly had a hand in raising and abusing just like all of us) that he was totally incapable of love; all he wanted was manipulation and control.

I looked at him, and I said, "One of these days, all this evil stuff you've said and done will come back to you...you wait and see" He said is that a threat? I said, "No, that's a promise. Karma will take care of your evil ass."

yep, karma.

A few minutes after telling Bobbi, her first concern was calling her Aunt Betty whom she hasn't seen in years (my ex's and the uncle's mother's sister), "What about the car?" that was her biggest concern ... the car and the house out there. I am not surprised at her callousness, as this is a product of his raising her. I have been concerned about her lack of empathy for a while now. This is nothing new. She was raised with callousness and emotional abuse, does anybody expect her to really care? She has a right to know what is legally hers since her father is now in jail and nobody is in her house.

Dirt Poor

 

The other day, I was reminded of the luxuries that most of us take for granted.

I was typing a psychological report and the lady was describing a claimant who had come in applying for disability due to psychological reasons.

In describing his appearance, the psychiatrist used the word filthy more than once, as well as malodorous. She said his clothes were filthy, and from her description it was apparent she was a bit uncomfortable with his appearance, and with the stench that filled the room. However he was polite during the interview as he relayed his story and his symptoms. As the interview progressed it became apparent to her why he was so filthy and disheveled, as he had no running water or electricity, and slept for nearly 14 hours every day.

He told her that he had bought this little house on E-Bay moving across the U.S. to live in a cabin in West Virginia. He had the promise of starting over in a new place, almost a year earlier after a divorce, only to now have no income, on Food Stamps, and inability to hold down a job due to posttraumatic stress disorder. His PTSD came as a result of seeing someone murdered in his home, by someone he had trusted and let move in. He was awaiting court proceedings as a witness however was fearing for his own life.

It just got me to thinking how fragile life is. We just never know what is around the corner for us, do we? Fragility and circumstances can turn our lives upside-down.

Just when I get to feeling sorry for myself and my daily struggles, I forget that I have much to be thankful for, and that includes running water and a job.

Didn't I Already Know This?

Here is your horoscope for Saturday, January 3:

Do you feel lost? It's not so bad -- or surprising -- if you do. In fact, you may be going in circles, but that's just because it's not time for you to move on quite yet. That time is coming soon!

Actually, I don't even check my yahoo mail that often, but I decided it probably needed weeding out, and clicked on this this horoscope thingy just for fun, go figure. ha! this certainly hit the nail on the head, huh?

A Love Letter ...

I came in here this morning and I read the line about spending more time with "D" but that is hardly something I can make happen. He calls the shots on that one, not me. He is not mine per se. He belongs not to me. My heart is a little heavy this morning. I always get this way when I'm in pain more so than when I'm not in pain. The work schedule is going to be messed up with trying to juggle Bobbi back and forths to high school. I am dreading it. Work is no doubt going to have a hissy fit on me. I guess the worst thing that could happen is that I would lose my job and ultimately lose this home I've struggled to make payments on since late 2003.

I sent an email to my supervisor at home this morning asking her to work a few hours today, which is going to hurt like hell since my shoulders/neck are already burning and hurting and it's only 10 a.m.? I probably need to load up a syringe and give myself a double dose of Vitamin B12, so I'm headed up to get that done.

As far as "D" I think the following letter expresses my feelings pretty well; however I have to make myself want to believe it. I guess I still want the fantasy because somehow the reality is just too harsh.

It is tragic that two words as innocuous as lonely and sad encompass such a wide range of emotions. It's been a lonely few months for me, struggling and handling everything alone. I guess lonely can be filled up with anything other than personal love. Were you ever really lonely? I wonder ... was I nothing but a convenience? one you never expected to really involve yourself with? one you care about only when you chose to care? ... I wonder, are you lonely now? I wonder what feeling if any, will come over you when you realize that I will no longer be present anymore in your life. It has been a stark realization for me that you are not present in mine; your real life only serves as a reminder that I am not in it.

I had spent so much effort and desire on you. I wasted nothing in telling you how much you meant to me … months came and went and rarely did you ever go without hearing a word of love slip from my lips, most over it over the phone or online, still all of those times dictated by you. I never once called you. I followed the rules, respecting your privacy, but in that process I was left outside your life. It was hard to face that fact, but I fell for the fantasy of us. I tried to show you in every way, shape, and form that I possibly could that I cared deeply, truly. I tried to ease the loneliness I felt you had in your life, and fill mine as well.

Nights of sleeplessness spent calling to you, longing for you. Somewhere, back in the deepest reaches and recollections of my memory I remember you telling me and I confiding in you of my feelings of sadness and loneliness. You and I both know the feeling of unlovedness, as we have known one another's touch, I am alone still.

She shares your life. Alas, she is not me. And I am sad because I know this fact is real, not imagined. She is there, I am here… alone and lonely for you ~ for the scent of you within my nostrils; lonely for the weight of you against my body, in the confines and security of my bed… and I think to myself how fortunate you are to have found someone to share your life, because it has not happened for me. I quit searching for a partner to share. I waited for the one man that I desired ~ you.

Your scent is almost gone now from within the folds of my mind. I know your scent, even without the physical reminders of it. The scent of your passion burned into my mind and left an indelible mark that can never be erased. Though your scent has faded in this present, it will remain strong, within my heart and mind.

Even as I wait for the impossible dream to come to life, I know that you are not what I need in my life. You are the fantasy that I love; I will always love, but a fantasy nonetheless. So I'll file you away in my memories that have accumulated over the past few years… there you will remain with the other sweet things that touch my heart.

Why can't I just end it? tears fall like rain...

The Red Curtain...

Either one anticipates its opening, or applauds its ending...

 

It always brought me a sense of delight, wonderment, anticipation of what was behind it!

I could use a little delight, wonderment, and anticipation of something good, something to look forward to?! Couldn't we all?

Life right now is hard.  Yes, I know others have it worse, I do give thanks for what I have, at least for the moment.  However, it's been a long few months of ups and downs, scraping the pavement, and I guess I'm really depressed more than I realized.  Lately, I haven't had much to say, and that's okay,  isn't it? We all get that way from time to time. I just haven't bounced back the way I usually do.

In all honestly, I don't recall ever a time feeling this lonely in my life with absolutely no one I felt I could depend on.   It's like being lost without direction, not that I was too good with directions to begin with.  I never could read a map.  Like I said before, I'd probably get lost trying to find my way out of a paper bag, or fight my way out of it.  I'm fighting with a lot here lately.

I don't know when I'll be back, but I'll be checkin' in on those bloggers I've come to love and respect.  

Who knows, maybe this year I"ll find a real life, a real love, and a couch, too! ha!

If you're looking for me ... here I'll be.

New Year 2009 ...

slipped in before I realized it! There was no celebration. I thought my daughter had made plans but her boyfriend came over early and left long before midnight. Neither daughter or I had stayed awake long enough to see the ball drop into 2009, but no big whoop really. This next year will be what it is and nothing more. I want my daughter to realize all the potential she has, and the changes that are headed her way. One thing is for sure, her father's case with go to trial and it will be over, one way or another.

I think all of us are going to be subpoenaed guests by the commonwealth, and I'm not sure Bobbi is ready for this. I do worry that she will suffer more guilt if he does get convicted, but she has information that is similar to other testimony in the case and she will be testifying. The next question is whether we can close the courtroom and even take her dad out. I'm not sure about that one. I just don't think she can handle seeing him sitting there. She hasn't seen him since she left out there in August.

This year, I would love to truly feel loved once again, and I would love to find the joy in family that has been missing for a while. No big resolutions. Looking for nothing but love really.