Monday, November 9, 2015

The Crippling Prison

So there’s this bird in a cage, a beautifully made, realistically nature-like, expensive cage. It’s grand and spacious, but not quite large enough for her to fly around in and completely stretch out her wings. She has plenty of fresh water and delicious foods to eat. She’s got toys, plants, stunning living flowers, swings, and everything she needs to live a great life. It looks like a pretty perfect life. She sings gorgeously conducted haunting melodies and smiles every time someone passes by. From a distance, she looks happy and mighty content.
The problem is that she’s really not happy, nor content. If someone really took the time to look closely and thoroughly enough, they’d see this sorrow in her eyes. They’d see the build-up of a lifetime of pain and brokenness, hopelessness, and desperation. They'd see she's insufferably lonely, and so gravely depressed. Her cage is fantastic and can sustain her throughout her whole life in a more than comfortable manor, and she’d live well. So what’s her problem? She doesn’t really have anything to be sad about. What on earth could be wrong?
Well, she can see clearly outside the window by which her cage sits. She can’t see the whole world, but she can see other birds flying free. She watches with envy as they soar through air, flying from tree to tree, landing confidently on branches that comfortably support their delicate little bodies. Oh, how she wishes to be free. How she yearns to know what truly flying feels like. So day after day, all she can do is stare grimly out the window and watch those who are free do everything that she can’t.
Then one day she sees smoke writhing and inching its way towards her. Within seconds she hears the roaring crackle of flames that are engulfing the walls on the other side of the room. Her heart is aflutter! She feels fear like she’s never felt before. She is trapped inside of this beautiful cage with her world burning down around her. As the flames slowly get closer she feels more and more terror. The smoke is so thick now she can hardly see out the window, or even through the bars of her cage. Her lungs are heavy and burning with the thick, black smoke. She feels pain so horrifying that she cannot define it. Her mind is racing in every which way, but she cannot stop the tumultuous rollercoaster on a single thought. She’s frozen. Stupefied. Conclusively crippled. She can see the brightly colored ominous flames growing in size in a slothful, indolent motion. And all she can do is remain paralyzed in an inexplicable fear watching them idly creep towards her.
She turns her back to the flames, and stares vacantly through the inconsistently swaying smoke. As it dances around, almost ceremoniously, she gets brief glimpses of the world outside her window and of the birds who fly so freely. They look so lovely… so happy… so peaceful… and so free. Oh how she yearns to know how that peace feels. And freedom. What she would give to feel the refreshing bliss of real freedom and instead of the weight of her prison pressing down on her. What is she to do? Where is her master, her teacher? The one who taught her to sing? The one who cared so much to give her this beautiful life? She feels so utterly abandoned and trapped inside this prison. If only she could get beyond her cage. If she could just find a way out, all her troubles would be just a memory.
Still paralyzed in her fear, she ponders the many things in this life she never did, and will never do. She can feel the icy hand of Death, the barbarously callous entity that is physically extracting her very breath. He whispers softly that he can make it all better. He can take her misery away. He can save her from this life. She trusts Him, and slowly lets go. Her life force listlessly fading. She suddenly feels herself outside of her body, outside of her cage, like a gaper who is nonchalantly watching her very own life diminish. She can see her light fading, growing dimmer, being snuffed. But she can’t do a damn thing to stop it. She can feel Death’s grip on her, clenching tighter with each throb of her heart, hell bent on not letting her go.
As her breath escapes her tiny, weakened frame for the last time, her thrashing panicked heart slows to a stand still, faintly letting out one last beat. Her mind races no more. Her fear has overtaken her. Forsaken her. Death releases His appallingly deceptive grip on her as her tiny body falls down to the bottom of the cage, where the door lay opened. Her Master’s hand awaited on the other side of the door for her to meet Him. But she was so caught up in her fear and watching the world outside her window that she couldn’t look around and see the one thing she wanted and needed most: His outstretched hand.

Thomas said to Him, "Lord, we do not know where You are going, how do we know the way?" Jesus said to him, "I AM the way, the truth, and the life; no one comes to the Father but through Me."

Thursday, March 19, 2015

I Still Miss You...

Dad, it's been ten years now and it still hurts to remember this day. I play through those early morning hours from so many years ago over and over in my head. I remember too much. And it still hurts. It still hurts to remember you're gone. It's sad when I look around and see all you're missing. Your beautiful grandchildren most of all. But they know you. Thanks to Jesus I can finally listen to your music, I can look at your pictures, I can talk about you without going into hysterics... most days. The pain is still there, I am convinced that it will never fully be gone until after the end times and the great Resurrection when I can see you again. God has comforted me and reassures me that it's alright. He's brought me a little peace. It's alright to miss you like I do. But most of all, it's alright to keep your memory alive. And I do.
Draven looks just like you did when you were his age. I wish I knew what you were like back then. The kids know your voice, they know when your songs come on our playlist mix. They wish they could've met you. Me too. I know they would've loved you.
In the spirit of keeping your memory alive, I want to recount the days prior to your passing. You had only been home a few days from the hospital, still wearing the neck brace and bandages from the spinal fusion, and quite out of it because of the new medication the doc gave you. So I'd come to check on you and spend some time with you and Linda. I recall one night in particular...

We were all three sitting in the living room kinda watching TV. Dad had glanced out sliding glass door right next to his chair. And then he looked at me and asked why that truck was still in the jacuzzi. I chuckled and got up to go look out back and in the Florida Room. Obviously, I didn't see what he was seeing. Those were some pretty strong meds!! So I went back over and sat down and said, "You don't remember Dad?"
"Remember what, baby?"
"Last night, the concert, the bands, bringing them all back home?"
He ponders for a moment shaking his head, fiercely searching for the memory.
"Dad, how can you not remember that?? There were 5 bands at that concert. Do you remember the girls?"
He ponders again, "Well... yeah... I guess I kinda remember."
So now I'm holding in my intense urge to laugh. He shouldn't be remember anything, because NONE of this happened. So I continue.
"Daaaaadd!!! You got to actually MEET all the bands. And during the show you had like 8 lap dances from those beautiful girls."
Linda is losing it now, trying so hard to keep a straight face, and failing horribly to hold in her laughter. But Dad doesn't notice. He is desperately looking for a memory, any memory of why he sees this enormous truck crashed into his Florida Room jacuzzi.
"Okay... yeah... I kind of remember some of that. What happened?"
So I, being the loving, supportive daughter that I am, fabricate this enormous memory for my father, who had been continually hallucinating from this new medication since he came home from the hospital.
"Alright Dad, this is what happened. We went to a show last night, you, Linda, Todd, and me. There were tons of people there, five rock bands, a pretty outrageous bar, and gogo dancers. We listened to the bands, ate food, drank a lot, and then got to party with the band members. You even played some music with them! Well, closing time came and we all had to leave, so YOU invited everyone who was still there to come over here to the house to continue the party. The bands brought their instruments to play, and their gogo dancers because you seemed to really enjoy all the lap dances they were giving you. You really don't remember all this??"
Steam was coming off the top of his head, I could see the wheels were turning. I'm sure by now he's seeing in his head what I've described.
"Yeah, that... sounds... right. Lap dances huh?"
"Oh those girls were all over you Dad! I can't believe you wouldn't remember them. They seemed pretty into you. You even got a few phone numbers handed to you."
He looks out the sliding glass door and asks, "So that's why the back yard is wrecked and why that car is flipped over in the grass?"
"Yeah, there were a lot of people here and it got pretty wild."
"That must be why I'm feeling so hungover."
I chuckled, "Yep, probably. Do you remember getting all the bands' autographs?"
"Well... I... kinda remember. Wow!"
"It was great Dad. Nice of you to bring them all home with you."
He's still searching, really hard, for these false memories. I'm cracking up.
"Yeah, I  kinda remember that."
"We should really do it again sometime."

Shortly after that, I went home. I never told him it wasn't true. So one of my very last memories of Dad was laughing with him about this wild party with music, booze, and lap dances that never happened. The next day I came back to sit with him while Linda ran some errands. He saw Indians hiding out in his back yard as if they were about to ambush the house, walked into the kitchen to grab a knife, and then headed for the sliding door because he was going to kill them. But he couldn't figure out how to open the door. I don't recall what other strange things he did that day while I was there. Late that night he fell asleep in his favorite chair, permanently.
The next morning, I refused to walk into that house and allow my father's empty shell to be the last memory I had of him. I couldn't do it. I'm glad that I didn't see, because the last memory I have of him is a great one. Cheering him up and convincing him that he had a wild party with happy people, music, and lap dances. I sure do miss him.

Wednesday, March 11, 2015

Most Days

Most days, I just want to die. Most days, I swear I can feel my life force fading from the weakened grips of my wavering soul. Most days, it just hurts too much to want to breathe. And most days, there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.
It seems entirely impossible to describe to someone how it feels when the extreme range of pains and horrid sensations emanate from my skin through my bones, and from the top of my head to the bottoms of my feet. Literally. I’ve never been more aware of just how many body parts I have until now. There are so many places in my body that it doesn’t even make any sense to hurt. But it hurts nonetheless. There are places I didn’t even know could hurt. And trying to describe it to someone who gets rid of a headache with an Advil is like whispering into the wind. I would swear that the pain is this entirely whole living and breathing entity of its own. And that whenever it decides to change course, it literally points at my body saying, “Eenie, meenie, mynie, MO!”
People think I am weak, too sensitive, and just crazy. I’ve been told it’s all in my head, that I’ve created it, and that I can just think it away, pray it away, and happy-thought the pain to death. Yeah. Like I said, whispers in the wind.
So many times I’ve felt the need to describe to someone why I cannot stand, why I cannot sit, why I cannot walk, lay, stand to be touched, or even speak fluent coherent thoughts. My memory is worn out, I seriously don't remember something that happened 2 hours ago! I’ve tried to brief them only to get that half-crazy, half-sympathetic glance that says everything except what I need to hear.  I can’t understand why I feel the need to make them understand, it’s not like my healing is dependent upon their understanding. I guess in a way, I want them to believe I’m not just another hypochondriac seeking pity. What does pity get me, besides pissed off? And what does a human’s approval get me, besides further from God?
I know God has something planned for me, some greater reason as to why I must go through this. Something grand. I just can't see it. I know I need to put my trust in Him wholeheartedly: all my faith in His basket. But I don’t know how. Can anyone else tell me how? I’m missing a puzzle piece: the very one that connects my pain to Him. Because, God is love right? He is just. Jesus spent His time on this earth curing people who 'heard' Him of plagues and a whole plethora of ailments, didn’t He? So it doesn’t seem so easy to believe that this fantastic and wonderful loving Father is just sitting back watching me and millions of others suffer in our own personal agonies just waiting for us to have that “A-Ha” moment that suddenly tears down the veil and fully opens our hearts to Him and all His glory. It seems nearly impossible. Perhaps that is why Jesus said, “Because strait is the gate, and narrow is the way, which leads to life, and few will find it.”
Most days, I feel quite certain that I am not one of those few. Most days I find it difficult to try, and impossible to care. Most days I feel so raw, cynical, bruised, and broken that I simply roam from room to room just searching for anything that will make me feel anything else. Anything at all. Most days the very thought of life is just too tiresome to handle. I plead with God daily to just let me go already. I’m certainly not doing anyone any good here, so it seems. I feel like a ghost in my own body. I can’t control it, I can’t stop the pain, and I sure as hell cannot understand it. Each night I lay in bed with the hopes that tomorrow morning I will feel better. And most mornings, I don’t. I have good days, well good moments in days. But they seem too few and far between. And this pain is a literal plague overtaking all of me, every sense we humans possess. And most days, there’s nothing I can do about that.
But there are some days when I wake and feel very little pain. But, I’m afraid to move because it’s probably just a dream that I don’t want to wake from. Some days, I remember what happy is. Some days, I actually laugh, instead of cry. And some days, I can actually look up to Heaven and thank God for my pain, because as bitter as it is, it reminds me that I am alive and have purpose. Those days are a treasure, because they are so very rare.
Most days I forget purpose, I forget why I am here to begin with, and I forget what ‘good’ feels like. Most days I spend having an internal dialogue with God, disputing so many things with Him and just begging for relief. Most days, all I want is to just feel better.

Sunday, February 8, 2015

Not Good Enough


1. the state of being enslaved to a habit or practice or to something that is psychologically or physically habit-forming, as narcotics, to such an extent that its cessation causes severe trauma. 
Please take note that the definition of addiction does not mention the word "games" nor "alternate reality." Please notice also that the definition does not describe what literally happens to the addict, everything the family goes through trying to get their loved one through said addiction, or even just to get their attention. But, hopefully with God's Grace I can put it into words.
These are the literal definition sets of the following words:

verb (used with object)
1. to separate (a part) from the whole, as by cutting or the like.
2. to divide into parts, especially forcibly; cleave.
3. to break off or dissolve (ties, relations, etc.).
4. Law. to divide into parts; disunite (an estate, titles of a statute, etc.).
5. to distinguish; discriminate between.
verb (used without object)
6. to become separated from each other; become divided into parts.
1. emotional pain or distress; sorrow; grief; anguish.
adjective, sadder, saddest.
1. affected by unhappiness or grief; sorrowful or mournful: to feel sad because a close friend has moved away.
2. expressive of or characterized by sorrow: sad looks; a sad song.
3. causing sorrow: a sad disappointment; sad news.
4. (of color) somber, dark, or dull; drab.
5. deplorably bad; sorry: a sad attempt.
6. Obsolete. firm or steadfast.
verb (used with object)
1. to sever or interrupt the connection of or between; detach:
They disconnected the telephone. We were disconnected.
verb (used without object)
2. to sever or terminate a connection, as of a telephone; hang up:
State your business and disconnect.
3. to withdraw into one's private world:
When social pressures become too great, she simply disconnects.
    adjective, lonelier, loneliest.
   1.affected with, characterized by, or causing a depressing feeling of being alone; lonesome.
   2.destitute of sympathetic or friendly companionship, intercourse, support, etc.: a lonely exile.
   3.lone; solitary; without company; companionless.
   4.remote from places of human habitation; desolate; unfrequented; bleak: a lonely road.
    5.standing apart; isolated: a lonely tower.

Now, with those simple definitions given, I must confess... I currently feel every one of them and a plethora more, for the umpteenth time... close beneath the skin... closer than i am comfortable with... scraping the empty cavity of my chest like a dull razor blade, and weighing down my mind and body mentally and physically with sickness and exhaustion so intense there's probably only a handful of people who could possibly comprehend or even survive it. I've been with this man for 16 long years. I've chosen HIM time and time again over other roads, roads I was sure would be better and happier, and still ponder to this day. We've been through hell together, and somehow come out together. But as soon as he is certain that I am not on my way out, he rushes right back into his sole happiness. And the second he turns on that digital world where his mind is enveloped within the folds of fantasy, fiction, and unrealistic behaviors, I can admit... never before or after in my life have I ever felt so severed, so desperately stricken with heartache, so bitterly saddened, severely disconnected, or immensely lonely. Not ever!!!! And what makes it even more unbearable is... he doesn't know. He doesn't KNOW that he is addicted. He doesn't KNOW that his repeated choices have crushed his children and left his wife empty, yet AGAIN. HE, the addict, will justify his playing time, will argue anyone who questions it, and will dispute any case you could possibly bring against him as to WHY he should be allowed to choose to LIVE his free life WITHIN a digital reality, a place where he holds the weapons, and every loved one in close range will feel the bullets piercing our already broken hearts.
In his mind, it was just an hour ago that he turned the game on. In reality, It was 2 days ago. 
In his mind, he's just gonna play a couple rounds with "the guys"... In reality, the first round began 16 hours ago.
In his mind, He "worked" hard all week (3-4 days) and DESERVES to just relax and let loose with what HE desires for a few hours... in reality, that was 3 days ago when he came home "tired" from a long grave-yard shift at work. Sooooo tired, in fact, that he blew off his son's cupcake party and family birthday dinner so he could sleep.... I WISH... he played his game for 10 more hours of that "tired" after a 13-hour shift.
This unhappy, bitter wife has been thru 16-years of promises, of "i will Quits," of new beginnings, or shallow and empty words. I cannot believe it any longer.

So in the meantime, back on 'ole Good Planet Earth where reality is harsh and unforgiving and there are NO re-spawns for a failed attempt, Mommy is left alone to deal with her degenerative disc disease, split and tilted pelvis, bulging c-spine discs, damaged sacrum, chronic migraines thanks to Uncle Joey's headbutt at age 17, and the fabulous fibromyalgia that poisons every fiber of my being with pain so excruciating that a normal person couldn't possibly live 5 minutes with... OH ... AND the precocious 8-year-old girl who is excelling in all her classes but tends to lean a little too close to the social butterfly stage; AND the amazing 7-year-old who is an exact replica of my father, GOD Rest His Soul, and just cares quite too much what others think of him and still to this day has a weak bond with daddy; AND the little miracle of 1 lb. 6 oz. who is 4-YEARS-OLD now and too advanced in his thinking, but too repressed in his speech. Mom's got this. Right? Mom should have this, right? IF Mom was HEALTHY, Mom would have this with a scoop of ice cream and pie. Apple, thank you. But THIS mom ISN'T healthy. She's quite broken indeed. LIFE happened to her. To borrow, for just a brief moment, Lemony Snicket's term, a Series of Unfortunate Events happened to THIS mommy to make her exactly what she is today: not healthy, not pain-free, not whole, not okay, not sane, and not capable of doing ALL this on her own. 
But, Far be it from the Man to see or notice. Seems when something unfortunate happens to mommy, his words are, and I quote, without the NEEDED HUG, "You need to Give it to God," as he walks away from me quickly to turn on HIS world. All he sees is that he has more men to Kill and "this" person from some random part of the world NEEDS his assistance. His wife or kids needing HIM is substantially irrellevent, because, afterall, WE have his PAYCHECK. AND that makes it ALL okay, right? 
I think you'll find quite a different idea of what a Daddy and Husband is from THIS family. I've been broker than broke. And now we have a great, beautiful home with stuff. And barely a Daddy to share it with because this daddy can't seem to handle real life, and he clearly cannot handle this broken mommy... and it's not because he's WORKING a lot. It's because He cannot seem to function in THIS world as it is. And I'm gonna say it. I no longer care what others think. Ask me of I care!!! I KNOW this problem is because his REAL father, the DNA one, a father of "GOD" who cheated on and left his mother for a YOUTH in the ministry group couldn't possibly care less about his own 3 offspring. HIS concern went to some lucky lottery winner, an adopted daughter. So what do you think THAT would do to a son?? or three? Think there's a relation between all 3 boys being addicts of some kind for 20+ years now? I'm sure that douche never even thinks twice about his sons. And then the mighty "step-father" who taught them John Wayne Love: that REAL men never talk, never show emotions, never cry, never make eye-contact at the dinner table... wtfever!!! All around he's screwed. Not much backbone of support from anywhere. Clearly my support is irrelevant. Figures, the one who wants to spend the rest of his life with him gets the aftermath of 2 douchebag fathers. Whatever. He does work long hours, but that seems to fill his mental capacity. So regardless of the quantity of days off this daddy has, be it 10 or be it 2, his choice of time well spent is currently in a ps4 game called Destiny. I sure hope she's beautiful.


Thursday, September 13, 2012

Never Can I Win

I go up.
I lose.
I fall down.
I lose.
I walk away, and still lose.
I do what I am asked and remain in the Dog House.
I love, I break promises, I apologize, I give in.
I lose.
I speak, communicate, open up, shut down, close up, and still, I lose.
I get insulted, yelled at, demeaned, hurt, broken down, and treated like some kind of floor mat.
I can't win for doing what is asked, what is wanted, what is needed or un-needed.
So I push.
I lie.
I pretend it doesn't hurt.
I'll take the pain if it heals someone else.
I'll take it all.

Monday, January 2, 2012

New Beginnings

Life is interesting. We have ups. We have downs. We float high up in the clouds, and we sink far to the depths of hell. And through it all, somehow we manage to endure. To tread on. To keep our heads up and continue forward on the paths we choose.
2011 brought about many changes. In January I got to bring home our preemie, Draikaiden, after his 3 months stay in the Sunrise NICU.  For those who don't remember he was born 15 weeks early at a mere 1 pound 6 ounces. He's pushing 22 pounds now and almost walking. He's amazing. Brother and Sister love him to pieces, and sissie just cannot keep her hands off him.
Easter time brought about a low time for me, as 3 of my discs in my cervical spine began to bulge out, creating excruciating pain and immobility.
I said good-bye to a large part of a family who only ever dragged me down, including my mother. Lost a few friends. Gained and amazing one who lives next door. 
Spent the first ever Holiday with my Dad's family, getting to know the people my mother spent so much of my younger years keeping me from. I've developed relationships with many of them.
The monkeys have grown like wild flowers, they are full of wonder and life!
In December my cousin broke her back in a car wreck. I spent a week in Missouri with that part of the family. Also made it through Denver to make some amazing business partners.
Once I returned from MO, we learned my husband's grandmother passed away. So we drove out to Colorado to be with family, and finally meet family I've only heard of for the past 13 years. They loved the kids, we got great photos, and had great times!
The year wasn't all bad, but it wasn't very good. There was heartbreak, loss, fear, loathing, hate, love, gain, tears, stress, laughter, joy, and sadness. It was a year of success, since we all made it out OK. But I am happy to be rid of it.
I started college last summer, hoping to complete my Bachelor's in Digital Design and Animation this fall. So between school, 3 monkeys, and a very exciting new business venture, Life will most definitely keep me on my toes for yet another year!
I hope everyone has a blessed year full of positive beginnings and love!

Sunday, October 23, 2011

I See Your True Colors Shining Through...

••Warning!! Explicit Content: DO NOT READ if you are sensitive or easily offended!!!!••

So, I was having an argument with my adopted sister. My mom asked if she could come stay with me for a month or so in the summer (this past summer) and I said yes, of course! I loved Lisa and would love having her here! Well, she asked of this about 3 months prior to summer break this year. Lisa was getting all down, talking like she was incredibly depressed on her FB page, so I mentioned to her that she should be happy, she gets to come up here with me this summer! Well, my mom FLIPPED out on me for telling Lisa about the plan. Apparently it was a huge secret that I was unaware of. I mean, why wouldn’t she want Lisa to know? It gives her something to look forward to, an incentive to get her grades up and do her chores (which apparently she does ALL of while my mom sits on her ass and watches TV, and Lisa’s younger sister is just lazy and mom never makes HER do anything cause she’s the baby even though she’s 12, I think).

So the argument started one day when I posted a comment to Lisa’s photo of her with waaaay too much make-up on for a 16-year-old, a tight tank, and a look that only porno stars give in photo shoots. Let me back up, Lisa commented on one of my photos telling me that I looked like SHIT in the photo. I laughed it off, I didn’t care, I liked the photo! So I jokingly commented that she looked like a hooker with all that make-up on and WTH was she trying to do? Well, her very uneducated friend chimes in, in Lisa’s defense, telling me that ‘Lisa iz not a huker, shez a nice pursun’ and what the hell else she said I couldn’t decipher, because she couldn’t spell a single word! Lisa responded too, but I cannot remember her words either. I told them both that they definitely needed to stay in school because I never actually said Lisa WAS a hooker, she just looked it because of all the make-up and suggestive pose. So they both continue to attack me, Lisa telling me how mean I am, and that I’m just a bully going around attacking people all the time. W.T.F?? So, I just dropped it, there is no arguing with teens, they hear no common sense in anything adults say.

Well, around this time I finally got our Easter Photos posted to FB, the awesome ones my dear mother-in-law and father-in-law helped to take, and were part of. My mom nagged me since we brought the baby home in January for photos. So once I finally got them up, I let her know. 2 weeks later I still hadn’t heard her mention the photos, so I asked her if she’d seen them yet. She said she just hadn’t had the time or been able to get on the computer. So I got a little upset. My loser cousin and her job-less hubby, and 2 adopted sisters were on their FB pages every day after school, and my mom seriously couldn’t walk over to the computer to view the images she harassed me about for so long?? Well, whatever. I just let it go.

So, then I posted an image of a painting I’d been working on for my dear friend Jana. Poor Jana had been waiting forever for me to finish! I was pretty proud of the image, and was excited for my mom to see it; sometimes she pretended to care so I told her to go look at it. It was during this week that Lisa and I had the image spat. It was also during this week that mom told me that neither Lisa nor Amber could come up here to visit, even though I had arranged for a ride, and was paying for everything else! I got into it with her telling her that is exactly why she got mad at me for saying anything at all to Lisa about the trip, because she never had ANY intentions of sending her, even though it was HER idea to get Lisa away from a boy, and away from the rest of the kids so she could be around an adult, and learn to start acting like one. Paraphrasing there but that is what my mother said! She’s very quick to tell people that Lisa isn’t very bright and acts like a child, and isn’t going to be ready to be out on her own in 2 years when she turns 18 (her mom did smoke crack while she was pregnant with her, and probably in the room with her while she was a baby). So, I was pissed at my mom, was really looking forward to Lisa spending time with me and the kids for a month in the summer, but whatever, again. My mom is a control freak, and I know she didn’t want Lisa out of her sight, that is the real reason she wasn’t allowed to travel 1000 miles away!

So the next day, and after about a week of it being up, I texted mom and asked if she’d seen the painting yet. Of course she hadn’t! She had sooooo many other things to do that a housewife does when she has a 25 year-old live-in bitchy cook who refuses to get a job, education, OR take care of herself or her own children, and a 16-year-old slave girl who, my mom is proud to say, isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed! So, that was it for me. I was really mad now.

Mom tried to call a couple times; I ignored her. She texted; I ignored. Then she started getting mean, and leaving voice messages saying that I needed to grow the fuck up, and this is ridiculous, all because she wouldn’t let Lisa ride in a car with a perfect stranger (friend of mine who was willing to bring her halfway), and when I get my head out of my ass to give her a call! 

So yeah, I’ll get right on that. I understood her not wanting Lisa to ride with my friend’s husband, but she was seriously just being a bitch about it; insulting my friend’s taste in men because of her first marriage mistake. I even offered to come all the way to Safford to pick her up, and mom STILL said NO. It was just a control thing. She knew she’d lose control of Lisa while she was 1000 miles away. She just wanted to be mean, and not let the girl have any fun, because my mom is soooo miserable, she has to suck the life out of everyone else too. And I know that my mom totally turned it around on me, making me out to be the bad guy by not letting Lisa come up here!

So after maybe a week, Lisa contacts me through FB, this is the convo between Lisa and I all the way up to the day I pissed my mom off by not responding to her, and prior to mom making her and Amber delete me and block me on my personal page.

April 9
Lisa Abshier  hey jess umm i cant wait too go up there with u its goin too be so fun and i hered i get too stay for a month so taxt back oh and by the way wats ur number
Jessica LaRue has mom decided when you get to come yet? my cell number is 928-792-6781. i need to send you a text from my yahoo account though cause it's easier to type from there. but feel free to text me when you want!

April 10
Lisa Abshier i cant text u i have no time on my phone but anyway are u shure im goin up there with u cuzz i dont think monas goin too lrt me

April 12
Jessica LaRue mom said she JUST bought you minutes. if you'd stop wasting minutes on one and two word texts to your friends, you could text me!
and we're still working on the plans on getting you up here. Todd says it's cool with him. So now I just need to work on mom.
April 12
Lisa Abshier k but ya sorry i cant text u but hey i get of school on may/26 so i hope i can go up there cuzz i need too get away from mona shes makin me crazy im like her slave

April 20
Lisa Abshier jess are u still goin too let me go up there i just need to get away take some time away from mona and tristan and every 1 els i just need time too myself pleez do this for me love you

April 21
Jessica LaRue of course Lisa. I want you up here. I haven't changed my mind, has someone made you think I have?

April 21
Lisa Abshier no but mona might not have the gas to drive half way but no i waz just wonderin cuzz we i only have like 3 more weeks of school left

April 28
Lisa Abshier hey jess havent hered from u in a while i cant wait too get up there i need too talk too u bout crap i just want to leave i feel trapped mona doesent let me do anything at all but wateva pleez text back love u sis

April 30
Jessica LaRue i've been busy and in terrible pain. we just got back from Vegas a while ago. I'm exhausted. Sorry, I'm not on Facebook much, I'll check messages more often.

May 3
Lisa Abshier k so when u planning on coming down me and amber are so excited to get to spend some time with u this summer

May 18
Lisa Abshier what do u mean ur not the person i should be mad at why are u bien such a pain i no u have a new baby but come on

May 21
Lisa Abshier why dont u mind ur own buzness and ya i no i spelled it wrong but u need to stop acting like a baby and stop making fun of people u make fun of everybody and ya stop acting like u no everything and leave me alone and mabie u should go back to school and learn sum manners god grow up im goin throw enough stuff right now i dont need more from u so ya if u dident want me up there then just say it okk im done byeeee

May 22
Jessica LaRue Wow, I'm not the one who didn't want you up here. I had it completely worked out to where Mom only had to drive you to Globe. Everything else was taken care of. But i've gotten 4 different excuses now about why you can't come up here. I accused mom of having never planned letting you come up here to begin with, that's why she got mad at me for telling you about it to begin with. And stop being such a bitch to me, I'm not being mean to you, I'm playing around with you. Did I attack you when you told me I looked like shit on one of my photos? I've gone completely out of my way to get you up here this summer and no matter what I do, Mom rejects it. She doesn't want you out of her site, she wants you where she can keep utter control of you. I know you wanted to get away from her, she hates teenagers, she doesn't know the first thing about how to raise them. She doesn't really know how to raise kids at all, and I feel for you girls being stuck with her. But it's out of my power, I tried to get you away for a while, but mom just won't allow it. I even told her I would find you a ride to Globe so there would be zero cost from her end and she still said no. So don't bitch at me about ME not wanting you up here! I did, It's mom who never wanted you to leave Arizona. And don't fucking tell ME to grow up when you're 16-years-old and your biggest problem is that you're lusting after 2 12-year-old boys who just aren't interested in you. I actually have real problems like sick children and a ruptured disk in my neck. I'm tired of hearing that I need to grow up when I'm the only person in the entire fucking family who can actually support myself with a college education! Everyone else is a bunch of leeches and junkies and I get all the shit for being the real grown-up. Everyone down there can go to hell for all I care! And if you want to keep treating me like shit when I try to play around with you, then you can join them! I'm done with games!

So, the above letter, I am assuming, never made it TO Lisa, I believe mom completely intercepted it. She then sends me the following text. Clearly she’s computer illiterate and ignorant to the workings of FB.

May 22, 2011 Text from Mom:
Wow! I just read ur facebook rant. If ur so educated, grown up, busy with sick kids, pathetic neck pain, how do you have time to fight like a child, with a child? And u did it on line! Now the whole world knows ur a 33yr old child! Im so embarrassed for u sis! U must feel really humiliated. Sorry baby, I keep tellin u, u have no common sense. U should always think b4 u type on line! But now since uve made a complete ass out of urself online, mayb that will teach u. Luvs. Ur just jealous cause im a better mother to these guys than I was to u. Practice makes perfects! Kiss the babys!!

Yeah, of course I’ll kiss the babies for your sorry ass. I never responded to her. I broke down into hysterics after that 'jealous' line, and called Becky, who happened to not answer the phone at the time, so I called Tamara, who knows all about mom, so no explanation was needed. She helped me calm down. Then I noticed thru FB, Lisa and Amber had both blocked me. That made me mad, but knew it was mom's doing. Then Todd hops on my computer one day while I had my company FB page open. Lisa is trying to chat with me, but we weren't sure if it WAS Lisa or not, so I told Todd to just block her. Well, the next day I logged in and saw the attempted chat from Lisa, Todd didn't block her! So I went to her page to do it. And guess what I see? From my loser cousin Taylor's account, my mom posted, about FIFTEEN times, the above text, starting it out with "Hey Jess, this is Mom..."

FIFTEEN TIMES she reposted that text on Lisa's Wall!!! So, I'm sorry, but WHO exactly needs to grow up??

Mom sent a few more texts, which I ignored, didn’t even read, then I figured out the phone had a Block Number option. So she was blocked! And my home phone has a block number option too. She tries to call, phone hangs up on her. She tried to call from my loser cousin’s phone, I had Todd block it immediately and they couldn’t get thru to leave nasty messages on my phone about how my husband is holding me prisoner, like she has done before!
So, I’m kind of an emotional wreck for a week, I don’t know why that woman’s paper cuts can burn so badly. After a week, I was great again. Then comes this message in July.

July 9, 2011 Text from Mom:
Trying to pick my balls up, and go on. I realize now that I totally emotionally shut down. Don’t know when I started with “I can’t” but I no that has never been my motto. Ive always been a I can girl. Sorry I let u & my fam down. Im really comin back now. U know the real me sis. Im not bad, just misunderstood. U r ur mothers daughter. Luv u! So proud! Don’t ask me any questions now. Just listen, luv me, I need u. Trust me. I got it this time!

I responded telling her to stay out of my life, I was done with her games, after I found out she tried to kill herself again. Re-blocked her, cause I’m not sure how that message seeped through. Then last week I get this:

October 20, 2011
She sent some message about just in case the world ends on the 21st like predicted, she wanted me and the kids to know that she loves us. I forget the rest and didn’t save it.

I responded, being nice and letting her know I had uploaded new photos of the kids on my company facebook. She said she didn’t have a computer because AJ broke it. So I told her I was making her a book for Christmas anyways, so she’d get to see them. She didn’t respond.

And then out of the blue, as Linda and I are cooking dinner, I get this message, with my mother’s true colors shining through:

Oct 22, 2011
Im not sure I want ur fuckin “crumbs”. I just though u mite send me some pictures of my grandkids! I don’t want ur fuckin book! I just wanted a few pictures. Apparently that’s to much to fuckin ask for!! Keep ur fucking block! I dont want ur snooty ass in my life. Ur ass can keep ur book. Ill c em sometime. U stay blocked and out of my life, u selfish hateful bitch! Do not text me ever again! Im done with ur loser ass. No wonder todd makes up lovers, ur as cold as ice.

My response:
Go fuck yourself! You are the worst excuse for a mother in the history of parenthood. And no, you will NEVER see my kids!! Go get yourself nice and drunk now, cause I’m assuming you’re out of pills and meth due to your fucking attitude. I don’t want to hear that you love me and the kids because the world might end tmrw, I don’t believe U. You’ve never loved anyone but yourself!

Mom’s #1:
No that’s u u selfish cunt

Mom’s #2
I don’t owe u any explanation. But im drug free, liquor free, meth free. That’s why I can see u for what u r!! A big insecure fuckin loser! U cant even keep ur man interested! He has to hav make believe affairs! Mayb if ud quite whoring around hed quit! But u never could k3p ur fuckin legs closed huh jess? Fuck off!

My response:
You’re not sober, and u never have been a day in your life. And you’ve never seen me. You don’t even know me. You can try to say all the hurtful things a cunt like you can think up, your words don’t phase me. U disowned me and toby in our teens over those SS checks, disowned me again when I told you I was joining the marines,, was pissed off I moved to FL to get to know my real parent, the one you spent our lives telling lies about. Say all you like woman, I blocked you from my life twenty years ago. Your lack of sobriety was so pathetic when I was a child that u didn’t even notice Pitman trying to put his hands down my pants when I was 7, he was just a convenience for u because he had drugs right? And that was all that mattered. You are all that matters to you, but please, keep the insults coming, this will make for an excellent book.

Her Response #1:
I’m sure ull be a

Her Response #2:
Here’s another little fact for u. Ur dad didn’t want u either.

Her Response #3:
Fact Check! I disowned u when u were inside me. U made me feel dirty. Never ever wanted u and nothings changed! Still dont! Block me u chicken shit whore! Block me. I hav my real datghters now, and u cant hold a candle to them. Block me and lose my number! I still dont want u and never will. Ur to scared to block me! Ha ha ha chicken shit. My real daughters got more balls than u. Ha Ha

Her Response #4:
One more thing. U do follow in ur dads footsteps. He was a whore. And uve made him proud!! Atta girl!! U must be so proud!!

My Response:
God it must feel good to be drunk again. Here’s a fact for you, you don’t exist. I’m not blocking you because I’m writing all this down, want to make sure my kids know why both my parents died. And Dad did want me, and loved me, and proved that to me. Your adopted children were only adopted because they came with paychecks. When something benefits YOU, you go out of your way to make it happen. Toby and I barely had what we needed for school but u sure as hell had your full liquor cabinet, bag of pot, and crystal meth. Even your dogs were taken better care of than us! Then u had to sink lower than scum and get him hooked on meth. Mother of the fucking year! It’s so sad that you are so unhappy you have to drag everyone else down. I feel so sorry for Shawn, he deserved a much better life than you. You’re the reason he’s so broken. But you just gotta keep going don’t you? Blow your fucking brains out already.

Her Response:
I to am savin these. Right back at u, Blow ur fucking brains out. Oh thats rite, u dont have any. Do ur husband and kids a favor and die b4 u fuck them up more! Try to do 1 unselfish thing in ur life! Die! U were never supposed to b born! Have a nice day whore! Im done talkin to a dead woman!

My Response:
Omg, do you even hear yourself? Every time you don’t get what you want, this is exactly what you do, go to great lengths to say the most ridiculous shit that makes NO sense and holds zero truth just to try to hurt people and make them mad. Look up the definition for ‘whore’ you idiot! You have to actually be having sex with multiple people AND collect money for services rendered. I can count all the men I’ve had sex with on my hands, but I bet you can’t even count the guys you fucked with an abacus!! Oh, sorry, that’s probably a big word for you. Dropping out in 6th grade and all. Your insults are fucking hilarious, keep em coming, I needed the laughter tonight. Make sure you’re drinking with a straw, you’ll get drunker faster. If you didn’t want me so badly, why did you go to such great lengths to keep me from Dad, who actually tried to get us several times?

Her Response #1:
I just gave u ur greated wish. U r welcome. Now u can be happy!! Wait for it, ur gonna luv it I promise!!
(not a freaking clue what she was talking about here)

Her response #2:
News flash ur dad had 5 kids he never wanted u til u were grown up. Cheap prick didn’t pay any child support for any. He only wanted u when u were grown up. But its ur fantasy, run with it. God u r fuckin stupid!! Grow up. Fuck off and eat shit. He really didn’t like u, u were a worthless girl. He didn’t want any kids u stupid bitch. U r so dumb. Wow. All that college and ur dtmber than a box of rocks. He hated u

Her response #3:
U hau me confused with peggy. I went to high school u dumb ass. U have no gdea ur talkin about as usual. Ur facts r so very very wrong. Again. Toby has the brain again. U dont no anything at all about me, u never did and u never will.

My response:
Nope, I’m not confused, I know who you are, and I know who peggy is. You are both selfish cunts so fucking miserable with your own choices in life that u do whatever is possible to drag everyone around u down. You two spent the 1st 18 years of my life playing me against the other, always trying to show me how horrible the other truly was. And I know shit about you, I know you flip the fuck out like this when you’re having withdrawals, or detoxing. I know you make shawn buy you whatever pills he can find instead of actually taking care of the girls. I know you sit around feeling sorry for yourself about how horrible peggy treated u instead of improving your life in any way. And I know you’re pissed off at the world right now because u are literally stone cold sober. No matter how many times you say it, I’m not dumb, or stupid, or a whore. I have a life, an education, a career, a company, a great marriage, and 3 beautiful kids who I love and take care of with every ounce of my being. You can’t understand that though, because you are so selfish. And putting Dad down, this man you’ve ‘loved’ and will always ‘love’ isn’t making you more powerful or anything. But I get it, you’re pissed off because you’re detoxing. Well guess what, it’s not my fault! It’s your fault you’re a junkie, it’s your fault both the girls are humiliated by you, and it’s your fault you let the whole family walk all over you. I’ve been out of your life since you gave up on me and toby when I was 12 and sent us to live with peggy. SHE fucking raised me, u get no credit for that. U dragged us around letting us watch as Don beat the fuck out of you time and time again. We’d of been better off in foster care! Keep telling me to grow up, I’m sure that makes YOU feel more like an adult. But I grew up long before you!

My mother is clueless. She has spent her life in a bottle, hooked on a pipe, with pills in her blood, and her mind in a daze. She has no idea how to take care of herself, or anyone else except her animals. She shafts everyone; and she’s great with the manipulation games, just like her mother. I’ve hated my mother since the first time I remember seeing her drunk and attacking my blind grandmother, or beating the hell out of one of her younger sisters, or completely destroying my aunt’s entire house on a drunken rampage. She used to make me sit with her, while she got intoxicated; I was the bartender, knowing how to mix many drinks by the age of 8. I was made to sit and listen to her piss and moan about what a horrible life she had growing up, how horrible my grandmother treated her, how many times she took a beating for her siblings. She couldn’t do anything with her life because of all this? 

I feel no pity for her, no remorse for any of the things I said to her, and absolutely no guilt for keeping my children away from her and the rest of that part of the family. I shed a few tears this evening, crushed that a mother could say such things to her only daughter. Then I realized, she can only hurt me when I let her. So I stopped letting her, and continued reading her ridiculous texts only so I could write them down, and always be reminded of WHY I chose this path; the one that leads me away from her and that life and into a better life without the malevolence, abuse, drugs, and violence.

I am stronger than her. I am smarter than her. I am better than her. And she will not torment me any longer.


Related Posts with Thumbnails