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.

Not Good Enough

Addiction:

noun

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:

sever:

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.

 

heartache:

noun

1. emotional pain or distress; sorrow; grief; anguish.

 

sad:

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.

 

disconnect:

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.

 

 lonely:

    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? 
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.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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.

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!
~jes

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 21^st 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 6^th 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 1^st 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.

A Miracle Birthday!

What started out as the single most horrendous experience of my entire being, has turned into an amazing learning experience and one of the most positive situations I can possibly describe.

At a mere 22 weeks, I began having labor pains, and not just Braxton Hicks. These were full on labor contractions. Simultaneously, there were intense marital problems, which caused much fighting, heartbreak, and stress. Two stubborn hearts trying to force the magnets together… it seemed impossible.

Then, the improbable happened, I woke up, alone with 2 kids, with full-on 3-minute apart labor contractions. Stuck in the middle of nowhereville, 3 hours north of Las Vegas, where doctors travel in and out of every other week, so who knew what could happen. I called my mother-in-law. She was the first on my mind. I wasn’t certain I was having real contractions, because the pain was drastically different than with Kaida. I explained it to Becky, and she directed me to immediately hang up and call Todd, who was at work. So I did. I was a little hysterical, in pain, and scared out of my mind. He gets on the phone and I tell him to come home because I think I’m in labor, as I have a contraction while on the phone with him. He instructs me to immediately hang up and call Jeremiah, because he was off work and in town and could come to my aide. When I hung up the phone, the only person I could think of was Tamara. I called her cell. Was holding back hysterics, but she could hear right through my façade, as usual. I told her I hoped to God she wasn’t at work. She said, “What’s wrong??” I told her, “I think I’m in labor.” ‘Click’ was all I heard. 2 minutes later she was busting through my front door. She ran all the way from the Station House where her and hubby were having breakfast, leaving him behind to pay the bill. She instantly ushers me to the truck and John shows up to take care of my monkeys. 

I was in pain. I was scared. And I was worried for this little man who wasn’t fully 25 weeks along. Tamara drove me to the hospital. Into the ER we went. I would not let her leave my side. She called everyone important to let them know. They had me upside down and on a Magnesium drip. She stayed. Until the ambulance drove me to the airport, she stayed. Even after Todd arrived, she stayed; held my hand, calmed my fears, made me breathe. She reminded me of her son, Dimitri. He was born too early, and the idiot Doctor made her push him out instead of taking him via c-section. The trauma through the birthing canal caused unnecessary problems. He lived 8 hours. I couldn’t be in the hospital with her, but I was there for her as much as I could be at the time. It was the most difficult experience for 2 19-year-olds to have to endure. I was reminded of this so I refused to give birth to my son in the middle of nowhere with an ER doctor who had to remain on the phone with a specialist in Vegas the entire time I was there! They waited 2 hours for the perinatal team to arrive. Then they wanted me to push him out. I looked at Tamara, could see the stubborn, disobedient look in her eyes. I looked at my husband, fear and desperation in his. So I feigned a push. Nothing happened. The ER Dr. immediately called the Sunrise specialist again. He said to have me push once again, and once again I feigned it. So, the Sunrise specialist, Dr. Miller, said “Put her on the plane with the perinatal team and send her here!”

They put me back on magnesium, back upside down, and strapped me to the gurney. Then some bad news came. Todd could not fly with me and I had to say goodbye to Tamara. He was going to rush home to get some things and fly his ass down to Vegas as quickly as our hot rod would safely allow. I remember Tamara whispering to me, “You make them give you a c-section. DEMAND IT!! I love you.”

And then I was alone with the perinatal team, and our town doc Dr. Scoccia, out to the airport and onto the plane. I had only a few hard contractions on the plane. Scoccia kept telling me to go to a happy place. And I tried.

Finally at Sunrise, and I meet the Doctors who specialized in this department: premature births. Todd shows up finally, and everything seems OK. They put another shot of steroids in me, leave me upside down which caused an excruciating headache, and wanted me to remain this way as long as possible. Around 4 am the following morning, my water broke. There was no stopping this little boy from entering the world now. And now he was exactly 25 weeks.

They were prepping me for c-section, because every time a Dr. came in, that is what I asked about, with Tamara’s words ringing in my head. The doctor said it would absolutely be a c-section unless something goes wrong to prevent it. The amniotic sac was already bulging out, and now the water was broken, so if anything else changed, there would be no c-section. I prayed. It took a few hours to prep us for surgery. I’m hysterical now, unable to calm down; he was way too young to come out, I didn’t want him to come out. They roll me into the operating room, as I keep asking for my husband. The anesthesiologist started the shots in my spine to get me numbed. I’m still a little hysterical, and mentally believe the shots aren’t working. Todd is finally holding one of my tied-down hands. The anesthesiologist is at my other side. I keep telling him the medicine isn’t working. He keeps telling me to calm down, and that it is. Todd keeps telling me to calm down. I keep asking for more numbing agents, as I hear the operating Doctors say they’ve already cut me open and were about to pull the baby out. Now I’m even more hysterical, I didn’t want it to be real; I didn’t want them to actually be taking him out, he wasn’t ready! I start freaking out. I’m crying and begging Todd, for what I’m not sure. He keeps telling me that it’s OK. The anesthesiologist gives me something that knocks me out, and I drifted away. Todd watches as the amazing perinatal team grabs our son, all 1 pound 6 ounces of him. He shoots a couple photos.

I wake up a while later in the recovery room. There was a nurse with me, and I just wanted to know how the baby was. I was really out of it; I wasn’t able to speak clearly. After a while longer they wheel me into my room and I meet up with my hubby again. I just wanted to see the baby and know he was OK. Everyone kept telling me he was just fine, but I wasn’t allowed to see him yet because I was still recouping from surgery. He was upstairs in the NICU, I was downstairs in the Mommy ward. Sixteen hours later I was finally allowed to go see him. Todd had left to go meet his parents, so the nurse wheeled me there. All I could do was cry; he was so tiny, frail, thin. He was hooked up to everything you can or can’t imagine. He was inside an incubator, intubated, IVs everywhere, mask over his face to protect his eyes from the Billy Ruben lights. I wasn’t allowed to hold him. All I could do was stare through the plexi-glass at this tiny little fighter who was born 15 weeks too soon! I was so scared for him.

For 3 months I watched him inside the NICU. At 2 weeks old I was finally able to hold him. 

Within the 3 months I was only allowed to hold him a handful of times. Then the day came… he’d met all of his goals: gained weight, was drinking from a bottle, able to maintain his own body temperature, and passed the car seat test. Mommy walked out of that Hospital NICU for the last time, with Draikaiden. He was almost 5 pounds.

He still remains the strongest person I know. He fought harder than anyone I’ve ever met. Brother and Sister welcomed him home with excitement and love. We’ve watched him grow from a 1 pound 6 ounce miracle baby, into the nearly 20 pound monkey he is today. 

He’s crawling all over the house, faster than most of us are ready for; he’s pulling himself up onto things to stand; he’s teething like crazy; he’s loud, he happy, and today is ONE YEAR OLD! It seemed like I would never take him home. It seemed like THIS day would never come! 

But here we are! Celebrating a first birthday for the strongest person I know! 

Happy Birthday Baby Boy! 

Mommy Loves you more than you can imagine! To the moon and back!

Why I Can't... (Part I)

You need a license to drive a car, a motorcycle, and even one of those tiny little mopeds. You need a license to shoot an animal AND an annual permit and can only do it in a specific time of year. You need a license to own a gun. You need a license to run a business, just to sell things to other people. You need a license to build something and special permits that are appropriate for each county. You need a license to practice medicine. If you’re specially trained well enough, like Chuck Norris, you even need to register your hands as weapons. And you even need a license to catch a silly little fish. There are probably so many other things you need a license for that I am not aware of, so many trivial things that require a license. But any idiot can conceive a child and be responsible for that child’s life. Fish are more important than babies in the government’s eyes, apparently.

Anyone can make a baby. And most women think that the 40 weeks of carrying the child, and the labor we go through, automatically earns you the title of “Mother.”

But it doesn’t.

Because any crack-head can carry a baby, give birth, then leave that child in a dumpster. Any teenage couple can conceive a child, give birth in a park right across the street from a hospital, then have a friend help you run over that baby and hide the evidence of any such pregnancy until one of the 3 finally cracks and tells officials. Just anyone can kill her own child, wait 30 days before reporting her missing, and still get away with the murder AND walk free among us.

Mother is a name that is earned.

Mother is a title that deserves more respect than it gets. 

“Mother is the name for God on the lips and hearts of all children.”

That quote holds more truth than most people realize, or even care to understand. A mother is the first person a baby comes to know. In most cases, her face is the first they recognize. Her voice is the most comforting. She is the guide, the teacher, the nurturer. Her kisses heal everything. Her hugs make all the hurt go away. She knows everything, and has all the answers. She listens to you, hears what your saying, and even hears what you’re not saying. She sees every freckle, is aware of every scar and how it happened, every memory is hers. She knows your cries, your fears, your emotions better than anyone. She’s a hero, an idol, an angel. 

Mother isn’t just a person who gives birth, and she certainly isn’t the person who’s supposed to walk away, run away, hide in a bottle, or leave you with everyone who will take you while she lives a separate life. 

"Things aren't the way they were before
You wouldn't even recognize me anymore
Not that you knew me back then
But it all comes back to me in the end...

...I've put my trust in you
Pushed as far as I can go
And for all this
There's only one thing you should know

I tried so hard and got so far
But in the end it doesn't even matter
I had to fall to lose it all
But in the end it doesn't even matter"

~linkin park