Posted by Anonymous.
I hate what I become when I am around you. I become a bitch. And with good reason, but it stays with me. For days. It gives you too much power. Way too much power over me. And I hate that.
You. You who was addicted to crack, benzos, pain killers. Hard core. $1400 in a week and half hard core. You who did it while your kid, my nephew, was in the house. You, who I entrusted with my kid when you were first starting using without my knowledge. You, who I discovered later, drove my kid in your car while you were high. You. Because of you, I am a bad mother. For not knowing, for not realizing sooner. Once I found out you were using, my kids have not come close to you alone. While you were in rehab, I put two and two together. You. You stupid bitch. And me.... stupid for EVER having trust you in the first place.
You. I went with you to that meeting. I told you my concerns. I held my tongue about my kids, when I should have punched and spit in your face. You. I was supportive. I told you I did not want you to rush back to that guy. The guy that you had only spent a month "together" with, but have known "forever". The guy that you did all these drugs with... with your kid and my kid in the house. The guy whose brother held a knife to my throat years before (who you were dating at the time. then you changed his name and continued to see him after he held a knife to my throat and slammed me against the wall). I thought you had changed, truly. I just wanted you to get better, dear sister. Wanted you to give it time. I was cautious, but was doing all I could to help you on your path to recovery, including letting the past lie while you were going through this delicate stage in regaining sobriety. I was doing it for you.... for your son.
You. You had the nerve to tell me I wasn't being supportive enough. That I wasn't telling you enough that I was proud of you for quitting, even though I had. Fuck you, bitch. I was giving you all I had considering what you had done. I was on the phone with a counselor for two hours trying to find you a specialist when certain old memories surfaced. I shared caring for your kid while you were in rehab. I told you that I was proud of the changes I was seeing. It wasn't enough for you? Fuck that. I should have walked away from you, never utter a word to you again. You have stabbed me in the back one to many times. And its personal.
You went anyway. You went to that man. In fact, you left your kid crying on the doorstep as you left. Are you a heartless bitch? You say that he is better. You say that he is a good man. He is on parole. How do we know what he is on parole for? How do we know anything about him? How is this formerly codependant relationship going to work? What about your son?
I wrote you. Telling you how pissed I was. You did not respond. You. You wanted me to take sexy pictures in lingere of you. I refused. I don't know where they are going. I will not pay part to your sorid affairs. You went again this weekend, assuming mom would be there no matter what. Not caring you thwarted her plans. You had to leave. You had to leave at a time that you couldn't even attend a function at your son's school for 40 minutes. It crimps your style right. Got to get on the road. You.
They say to you in rehab you have to be "selfish" to get better. While I agree, I don't think that this is what they mean. They mean taking time when you need time. Taking a step back when you need to take a step back. But you still need to own up to your responsibilties. You can't have it both ways. You can't have it so that mom deals with your son, talking to his teacher, feeding him, disciplining him, and just leaving him whenever you want, and then be angry when she is doing that. Kids don't raise themselves you know. You aren't stepping up. She is. You want to do something? You want to have a say in how your son is being raised. Step up. Be there. She is, afterall, letting you stay there while you recover, and you are miserable to her.
You get mad. You get mad because everyone is miserable. No one is mean to you, even if we should be. Yes. We are miserable. Because you continue to make bad decisions, even if you are not using. You do things that worry us. You throw them in our faces. It is "your decision" and the rest of us don't matter, us giving you good advice or no. we have to trust you. Trust that you are clean. Like you have EVER told the truth about that this whole time....secretive and hiding. And it doesn't matter that you essentially abandon your son in the process (even if he is living with grandmom....you are still the mom..... and you technically still have custody) And we are supposed to be what, happy? Not get cranky when, after calmly investing so much time into this, our advice, kind words, support is thrown away? Damn straight, we are cranky. And yet, you. You think it is all about you. That we are to give and give and give until you get better. Well, you know what, it doesn't work that way. You can reguratate all that you want from your meetings and call it recovery. I call it being a parrot. And while that might be semi-helping you get through each day, you are missing so much of the point.
You have NO RIGHT to get indignant with me, with mom. Or to con anyone else in the process.
You. I have supported you. You. You could have killed my daughter. You. My naive lack of awareness to YOUR issue in the beginning has made me question myself as a mother so much more than you will ever know. It is a job I take VERY VERY seriously. You. You fucked it all up. You. You essentially gave up your son for drugs, for a man. And you want him back, but maybe not enough to really do what needs to be done to get him back, not enough to do right by him. Not enough that his second grade teacher know who you are. Not enough to take him to a school function. Not enough to not leave when he is crying for you not to go.
You. My reaction each time I see you lasts for days. You. I am done with you, recovery or no. You may be clean, but your overall actions aren't speaking to me. I have been burned too many times by you. We are done, sister. But the real sucky thing is that we love your son. He is my daughter's best friend, and he loves her too. It is UNFAIR to him to punish him for your fucked up actions. I will continue to be a force in his life, and he is welcome always here. You, however, I cannot be a force in yours any longer. It is toxic. I rid myself of you.
Audience, what would you do about my nephew? How would you handle that situation (we are not letting him back with her unsupervised). I mean, how would you handle the friendship that my daughter and him have and me wanting to be a positive force in his life... without having to deal with her?
Monday, January 26, 2009
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Weekend Update: Dear Sister In Law
Update to Sister In Law, posted by Anonymous.
Here's the update: my MIL passed away the day after I wrote this
(which also happened to be my 31st birthday). After giving my BIL the
silent treatment the entire six hour drive, my SIL spent the rest of
the weekend doing the same to my husband and I. And she's yet to even
acknowledge the existence of our six month old son.
When it came time to travel across the country for her funeral, she
refused to come because she said she needed the right to completely go
off and blow up at anyone who even "looks at me funny, even if it's in
the middle of the funeral" and that she expected him to back her up
100% of she did it. He said he couldn't do that, so she refused to
even make the trip. To be honest, it made the weekend less stressful
for everyone there.
Now, it's looking increasingly likely that she won't be my SIL for
much longer. She has been lying to my BIL about a variety of things,
blowing up at him every other second for nothing and everything, and
when he asked her to come to counseling to try to work out their
issues, she said she'd go, but she really wasn't interested in putting
much work into the relationship. So..while I'm sad that my BIL is
having to go through this (he's an awesome guy), and so soon after his
mother's death, I'm actually kind of excited about the possibility of
being able to hang out with him, spend time with him, and do family
stuff with him with out having to worry about her.
Just writing that letter made me feel much better.
Here's the update: my MIL passed away the day after I wrote this
(which also happened to be my 31st birthday). After giving my BIL the
silent treatment the entire six hour drive, my SIL spent the rest of
the weekend doing the same to my husband and I. And she's yet to even
acknowledge the existence of our six month old son.
When it came time to travel across the country for her funeral, she
refused to come because she said she needed the right to completely go
off and blow up at anyone who even "looks at me funny, even if it's in
the middle of the funeral" and that she expected him to back her up
100% of she did it. He said he couldn't do that, so she refused to
even make the trip. To be honest, it made the weekend less stressful
for everyone there.
Now, it's looking increasingly likely that she won't be my SIL for
much longer. She has been lying to my BIL about a variety of things,
blowing up at him every other second for nothing and everything, and
when he asked her to come to counseling to try to work out their
issues, she said she'd go, but she really wasn't interested in putting
much work into the relationship. So..while I'm sad that my BIL is
having to go through this (he's an awesome guy), and so soon after his
mother's death, I'm actually kind of excited about the possibility of
being able to hang out with him, spend time with him, and do family
stuff with him with out having to worry about her.
Just writing that letter made me feel much better.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Dear Sister In Law
Posted By Anonymous
Dear Sister-In-Law,
Our mother-in-law is on her deathbed, yet you still can't put away the pettiness that has plagued our relationship from day one. From the beginning, we have done our best to welcome you into the family. Yet from the beginning you have treated me coldly, found one reason after another to confirm your belief that we are intentionally excluding you from the family.
Normally, I would shrug this off and continue to take the high road. I would say that if you want to allow your pettiness to keep you from allowing yourself to be welcomed and accepted into our family, then it's your problem. But this time you've crossed the line. And I can't just shrug it off because it is impacting the people I love.
You are driving down here with your husband to visit our mother-in-law. I think this is a good thing. I really do. I am happy you were able to put things aside enough to make the trip. It what is best for both her and you. It is also what is best for your husband, who needs your love and support right now. But, my husband received a call this morning saying that because you are coming, and you can't put aside your petty grievances, you won't be staying with us. And, even though we cleared our schedules to be with family at this time, we are left hanging because you don't want to see us. And even though we canceled our dinner reservations (our first night out since the baby was born to celebrate my birthday) so we could spend time with family, we can't count on that because you do not want to see us.
And again, normally I wouldn't let such things bother me, but here's the catch. You don't want to see us, or spend time with us in this critical time. But you want to use my mother's house for free lodging. Even though it made me angry that you wanted to use my family and I in this way, I called my mother and asked her to open up her house to you, which she was more than willing to do. Because even though I don't think you deserve it, your husband does. And because now, when our Mother-in-law is dying, is not a time for petty grievances. It's a time for family to come together and support each other. So I didn't hesitate to call my mother on your behalf.
And even though it makes my blood boil to know that upon hearing that I was upset about my family being used, you turned everything on me, saying you had to get a hotel instead of staying at my mom's because I was uncomfortable with you staying there (something I never said or even implied). That even after all this, you are still finding ways that things are my fault, that I am the one being unreasonable, that I deserve your ire and stubborn silent treatment.
Given all this, I can still look past your pettiness. I can even swallow my pride and allow you to use me and my family so you and your husband can have a place to stay during this difficult time. But what I can't shrug off is the way your stubborn pettiness is fracturing this family at a time we need to be coming together. I can't look the other way while you prevent my husband from being able to be with his brother right now, to have him to lean on and to be there to be leaned on in return. I can't pretend it's all ok when you are leaving him to go through this without any other family to help him through this.
And it makes me angry that at the same time, you are leaving your husband to go through this without his brother as well. That because your relationship with him is fragile enough that he feels he has no choice but to take your side, even at the expense of his own brother. Because he knows his brother will forgive and always be there (even after all this crap), but you may not. With all that this family has gone through (the messy divorce that has left strain and tension and now the loss of their mother), your stubbornness and pettiness are robbing these guys we love of the only thing they have left -- each other.
We have tried everything! Hand made Christmas gifts? Check. Knitting lessons? Check. Stocking our cabinets with your favorite foods during visits? Check. Homemade whatever you want to eat? Check. Showing you around and doing whatever you want to do? Check. And this is the thanks we get. You have hijacked this family. It is always about you. Even with our mother-in-law dying, when it should be about her and about our husbands and coming together as a family, it's about you.
But I will never say these things to you. I will continue to do my best to keep the peace and not add further strain to our family. I will keep taking the high road and not give you any more "proof" that I'm the bad guy. I will continue to welcome you when you'll let me. Because that's what this family deserves. Maybe one of these days you'll realize that. And for the sake of our husbands, I can only hope you don't cause irreparable harm before then.
Dear Sister-In-Law,
Our mother-in-law is on her deathbed, yet you still can't put away the pettiness that has plagued our relationship from day one. From the beginning, we have done our best to welcome you into the family. Yet from the beginning you have treated me coldly, found one reason after another to confirm your belief that we are intentionally excluding you from the family.
Normally, I would shrug this off and continue to take the high road. I would say that if you want to allow your pettiness to keep you from allowing yourself to be welcomed and accepted into our family, then it's your problem. But this time you've crossed the line. And I can't just shrug it off because it is impacting the people I love.
You are driving down here with your husband to visit our mother-in-law. I think this is a good thing. I really do. I am happy you were able to put things aside enough to make the trip. It what is best for both her and you. It is also what is best for your husband, who needs your love and support right now. But, my husband received a call this morning saying that because you are coming, and you can't put aside your petty grievances, you won't be staying with us. And, even though we cleared our schedules to be with family at this time, we are left hanging because you don't want to see us. And even though we canceled our dinner reservations (our first night out since the baby was born to celebrate my birthday) so we could spend time with family, we can't count on that because you do not want to see us.
And again, normally I wouldn't let such things bother me, but here's the catch. You don't want to see us, or spend time with us in this critical time. But you want to use my mother's house for free lodging. Even though it made me angry that you wanted to use my family and I in this way, I called my mother and asked her to open up her house to you, which she was more than willing to do. Because even though I don't think you deserve it, your husband does. And because now, when our Mother-in-law is dying, is not a time for petty grievances. It's a time for family to come together and support each other. So I didn't hesitate to call my mother on your behalf.
And even though it makes my blood boil to know that upon hearing that I was upset about my family being used, you turned everything on me, saying you had to get a hotel instead of staying at my mom's because I was uncomfortable with you staying there (something I never said or even implied). That even after all this, you are still finding ways that things are my fault, that I am the one being unreasonable, that I deserve your ire and stubborn silent treatment.
Given all this, I can still look past your pettiness. I can even swallow my pride and allow you to use me and my family so you and your husband can have a place to stay during this difficult time. But what I can't shrug off is the way your stubborn pettiness is fracturing this family at a time we need to be coming together. I can't look the other way while you prevent my husband from being able to be with his brother right now, to have him to lean on and to be there to be leaned on in return. I can't pretend it's all ok when you are leaving him to go through this without any other family to help him through this.
And it makes me angry that at the same time, you are leaving your husband to go through this without his brother as well. That because your relationship with him is fragile enough that he feels he has no choice but to take your side, even at the expense of his own brother. Because he knows his brother will forgive and always be there (even after all this crap), but you may not. With all that this family has gone through (the messy divorce that has left strain and tension and now the loss of their mother), your stubbornness and pettiness are robbing these guys we love of the only thing they have left -- each other.
We have tried everything! Hand made Christmas gifts? Check. Knitting lessons? Check. Stocking our cabinets with your favorite foods during visits? Check. Homemade whatever you want to eat? Check. Showing you around and doing whatever you want to do? Check. And this is the thanks we get. You have hijacked this family. It is always about you. Even with our mother-in-law dying, when it should be about her and about our husbands and coming together as a family, it's about you.
But I will never say these things to you. I will continue to do my best to keep the peace and not add further strain to our family. I will keep taking the high road and not give you any more "proof" that I'm the bad guy. I will continue to welcome you when you'll let me. Because that's what this family deserves. Maybe one of these days you'll realize that. And for the sake of our husbands, I can only hope you don't cause irreparable harm before then.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
What Am I Doing?
Posted By Anonymous.
I have something to say. Something that I think is bad. Wrong. Wrong, wrong, dirty and wrong.
I have been married for 10 years to an amazing man. We have 3 kids. 3 beautiful, adorable, busy, energetic kids. Lately, we’ve been stressing about finances. Our credit is horrible, because husband lost a job, we lost a house and a vehicle because of it. So we rent. And we no longer WANT to rent, but there is nothing else we can do. Can you say "mortgage crisis"? It has gotten to the point where whenever we talk, we end up arguing. The only way we can hold a rational conversation is through email or text message. I can’t remember the last time we had sex. Even further than that, I can’t remember the last time sex lasted longer than 5 minutes. I am a sexual being. Sex is important to me. It’s not to him.
So the wrong thing? Yeah. I googled the name of an old friend. Ok, not just a friend. But a friend with benefits. Wonderful, awesome, mind blowing benefits. Benefits that lasted four years. Benefits that lasted until I met the man that is now my husband. I found this friend. I emailed him. He’s now married, with kids. He’s moved 1000 miles away and is no longer anywhere near me. It had been 10 years since I last spoke with him. We remained friends (but no benefits) up until the day I got married. After that, we cut contact. It was really best for both of us. It was extremely hard to be friends without benefits.
So I found him and emailed him. He emailed back telling me he was married, kids, moved, finished college, nice job, etc. I emailed him back and told him what was going on in my life. Just jumped into it like we were old friends again...not like we hadn’t talked in 10 years. He emailed me back and told me it would probably not be a good idea for me to email him because if his wife found out it would hurt her. I was humbled by that email. I told my husband what I had done. I let him read the emails. He was somewhat upset with me that I confided in this person that I hadn’t talked to in 10 years. He asked me not to ever speak to him again. He didn’t understand the whole friends part...he wasn’t able to get past the benefits. And that I enjoyed the benefits, and talked about the benefits. From day one he was always jealous of this friend...probably for good reason. I knew he had nothing to worry about, but he didn’t know that.
Fast forward one week later. I get an email from a weird address. "Hey this is so and so, wife and I are going through a rough patch and I thought it was her emailing me pretending to be you (she knows about me to...he cheated on her with me while they were dating...many times...she doesn’t like me for good reason). But then I did some research and realized that she would never know your married name. So email me on this address from now on and we can talk. So I did. Big mistake.
It started out innocent. Talking about our kids, our lives, our jobs, our spouses, our families. Catching up on the last 10 years. Then we started chatting on Google instead of just emailing. Once or twice a week we would chat for a few hours at a time. Then the chats turned dirty...as they were probably destined to do. We started talking about our past, and possible future..not together, just the benefits. We started describing things we wanted done to us that our spouses didn’t do. Now we chat everyday while we are at work. Not constantly, but in spurts. Regardless, we both have the screen up all day long. We have progressed into planning on how we are going to meet each other again. We tell each other our problems with our spouses. We offer advice and encouragement on how to "fix" our relationships. This has been going on for 6 months now. We never run out of things to say. He’s called me at work once. We actually talked. It was nice. But awkward. We decided that we rather the computer.
The worst part? I’ve come to realize that I am truly upset if I don’t get to talk to him. And it hurts me to know that I would talk like this to someone else when I have not done anything like this in my 12 year relationship with my husband. It scares me that I can tell this person, this man, all my fears, my hopes, my desires, my needs. But I can’t tell my husband. And it saddens me that I am actually thinking about meeting him. Somehow. Someway. I need this man behind the computer. I need to feel the way he makes me feel. It is just sex. We both agreed to that. But it’s not. Not for me. And I don’t think for him. We see in each other the things we want to see in our own spouses. We can have all the benefits without all the bullshit. But I am smart enough to know that if we have the benefits, and the benefits are truly what we remember, the bullshit will come. We will resent our spouses. Our relationships will probably fail. Our relationships that we have worked so hard to make. I know I should let him go. I know I should stop. But I can’t. I can’t let go of the way I feel when I talk to him. I can’t give that up. Giving that up now may make me turn to a person who is actually real. And within reach. And THAT would truly be devastating.
But I need to stop. How do I stop? How do I pretend like this never happened? To me, it’s cheating. The things I’ve said, the things he’s said. It’s cheating. Right? I’m not telling my husband, I’m not being 100% honest with him. I really don’t think that I will ever meet this friend for real. There is too much at stake. Too much to lose. Not for just one night of amazing benefits. But if I do meet him? I will cheat. For real. And that is wrong. Wrong, wrong, dirty and wrong. But yet, I still cannot stop.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Weekend Update: My So-Called Life
We all want to know what happened with the stories that touched our hearts here, and so updates from people who have posted stories here are always welcome. I'll be posting these on weekends, so that we don't get any further behind in the regular posting schedule (many of you are waiting to see your posts up here, and I promise, they're coming. It's just that there are lots of them, and I don't want to bunch them all together. You all deserve your time at the top of the page to get your story heard and to see discussion). Here's an update on the story, My So-called Life, posted by Anonymous...
HBM,
I don’t know if you remember me but I wrote this post for the Basement last year. Some people asked me to update them with my progress, and now I finally can.
Since my last, I let things spiral down a bit further until December, when I got a wake up call that I had hit rock bottom and called my parents crying, and finally asked for help. Through a plan with my mother’s employer that covers all my costs, I got help from a counsellor, who talked to me and asked me about myself, my plans, my hopes, my dreams and where I thought everything had went wrong. Between the two of us, along with help from my parents, we’ve got new goals set, and a new plan is in motion.
I am moving home at the end of March for the summer (as my courses are all correspondence this year, and I can leave earlier than most students). I’m living at my parents place for the summer, rent free, and working to save up money for next year. I’ve in the process of transferring to a university that’s a little less than an hour’s drive to my hometown, and it will be easy for me to visit family and friends on weekends, when I want to. Once school starts, I will still be living on my own and independent, but I will be an hour away, instead of almost seven. I’m going home, where I belong, and it feels great.
I want to thank you for posting my story, Catherine, and also thank every person who commented on my story, prayed for me, encouraged me, and told me to seek help and that moving closer to home and reaching out wasn’t a sign of me failing. I needed to hear it so badly at that point, from unbiased people who don’t know me or have their own plans for me, so thank you for your support and your encouragement. You all helped give me the push I needed to get out of the darkest stage, and I am so grateful. Thank you to each and every one of you.
Friday, January 16, 2009
Enough
Posted by Anonymous.
I am not sure how to start this but to say that I have had enough. Enough of your verbal abuse and enough of your selfeshness. We have been together 15 years and I should have left you 14 years ago. It started with you belittling me. Not in front of others but just when you and I were around. Calling me stupid, dumb ass. Later, your abuse came in front of others. We went on a vacation with your friends. You became enraged at me when we were fighting, turned the car around and told me to get the fuck out. Out of your car, life and out of your house. You told me to pack my shit and get the hell out. Left me at the garage where your brother was working. He was kind enough to let me use his car to get home. I did pack my stuff and move back in with my parents.After you left me at the roadside, you got back in your car and went on that vacation with your friends for 3 days. Didn't call or see if I moved out. You said that you were sorry and wanted me back. I moved back in with you. You were nice for a while. Then the belittling began again. The cleaning wasn't good enough and I just did not do things right for you. I thought that things would change. We went to counseling and things got a little better. We had a child and got married because of that child.
Then the partying began. Once we had a baby you couldn't get enough of the partying. Anything to get away. You began spending more and more time with friends. Pretty much every weekend you would be out at the bars with friends or out with friends brewing beer. I really don't know who exactly you were out with but it doesn't matter any more. I was always at home taking care of things and the kids.This went on with all 3 children.The worst time was when I called the cops because of the abuse. Once again, you became enraged at me. Called me every nasty name in the book.Told me to go fuck myself, packed your things and left. Left me with no job money and alone with the kids. I was so fearful of you that I called the police. The officers suggested that I go to a battered womans shelter and they went out looking for you. Even called your employer. I dropped the charges against you, you came back and apologized The kids know us as hated enemies and that makes me so sad. I am afraid this will scar them for life. 3 years ago we moved out to a rural area at your insistence. You had to have this house. It has been nothing but a personal and financial headache. Sometimes I think that you wanted to come out here to continue your abuse.
The final straw for me was when you told our son what a fucking bitch I was on our vacation this year, the vacation that I paid for.This is not the first time that you have done this with him. You like to pull him aside and tell him what an asshole I am, how stupid I am, etc. Unfortunately for you, he tells me everything that you say about me.I am so ashamed that I have let this go on this long. No one knows how bad this has become. Now, 15 years and 3 kids later all we do is fight. I am working, going to school and providing for myself. I have saved enough money to file for divorce, put money down on an apartment and finally leave your sorry ass. I am not going to tell you when it will happen either. It will be a surprise By the time I am done I will take half of everything that is yours including equity in the house, 401 K , etc.
I am not sure how to start this but to say that I have had enough. Enough of your verbal abuse and enough of your selfeshness. We have been together 15 years and I should have left you 14 years ago. It started with you belittling me. Not in front of others but just when you and I were around. Calling me stupid, dumb ass. Later, your abuse came in front of others. We went on a vacation with your friends. You became enraged at me when we were fighting, turned the car around and told me to get the fuck out. Out of your car, life and out of your house. You told me to pack my shit and get the hell out. Left me at the garage where your brother was working. He was kind enough to let me use his car to get home. I did pack my stuff and move back in with my parents.After you left me at the roadside, you got back in your car and went on that vacation with your friends for 3 days. Didn't call or see if I moved out. You said that you were sorry and wanted me back. I moved back in with you. You were nice for a while. Then the belittling began again. The cleaning wasn't good enough and I just did not do things right for you. I thought that things would change. We went to counseling and things got a little better. We had a child and got married because of that child.
Then the partying began. Once we had a baby you couldn't get enough of the partying. Anything to get away. You began spending more and more time with friends. Pretty much every weekend you would be out at the bars with friends or out with friends brewing beer. I really don't know who exactly you were out with but it doesn't matter any more. I was always at home taking care of things and the kids.This went on with all 3 children.The worst time was when I called the cops because of the abuse. Once again, you became enraged at me. Called me every nasty name in the book.Told me to go fuck myself, packed your things and left. Left me with no job money and alone with the kids. I was so fearful of you that I called the police. The officers suggested that I go to a battered womans shelter and they went out looking for you. Even called your employer. I dropped the charges against you, you came back and apologized The kids know us as hated enemies and that makes me so sad. I am afraid this will scar them for life. 3 years ago we moved out to a rural area at your insistence. You had to have this house. It has been nothing but a personal and financial headache. Sometimes I think that you wanted to come out here to continue your abuse.
The final straw for me was when you told our son what a fucking bitch I was on our vacation this year, the vacation that I paid for.This is not the first time that you have done this with him. You like to pull him aside and tell him what an asshole I am, how stupid I am, etc. Unfortunately for you, he tells me everything that you say about me.I am so ashamed that I have let this go on this long. No one knows how bad this has become. Now, 15 years and 3 kids later all we do is fight. I am working, going to school and providing for myself. I have saved enough money to file for divorce, put money down on an apartment and finally leave your sorry ass. I am not going to tell you when it will happen either. It will be a surprise By the time I am done I will take half of everything that is yours including equity in the house, 401 K , etc.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Not Welcome Here
Posted by Anonymous.
You were not invited. In fact, you were specifically told to wait, perhaps until the holidays when your son could be here to "entertain" you. Because I, I would have a brand new baby and I would need my space. Now was too soon. I have a new baby, later would be better. I was very clear with you - visitors make me uncomfortable, and you especially so because you dislike and are afraid of my dogs, who are my family. You flinch when they brush past you, and you make no secret about how they are "dirty, expensive and time consuming." They are my family, and have been so long before your son was my family. You've never liked them, or me, and you are very clear about that. But now that there is a baby, MY baby - you seem to feel the need to play this grandma gig to the hilt. And yet, you don't like me, and I am her mother. Right now, where she goes, I go. We are still virtually one being, with her wholly dependent on me. You offer to "help" but your idea of helping is sitting on the couch and staring at the wall. You are the most helpless person I've ever met. How do you plan to help me? By telling me what you think I'm doing wrong? I don't need your picking..........
I told you not to come. I told you to wait. To please, give me some time to heal from the ordeal of birth both physically and mentally. How could we have known the baby would be late, I would have a c-section, and that we would both be so so very exhausted? Somehow, I did know. I knew that I would need time to recover and get my feet under me for this "mom thing." I knew that I would need more than three or four weeks to be comfortable enough, healed enough, to have you here. This is why I asked you not to come right away. Because I was having a baby. I knew I would need more time. I would need to be on top of things to deal with you and your dislike and disdain for me and my dogs. Now, I have a three week old baby. I am not on top of anything. It's amazing I showered today. And yet, you are here, in my home, in my personal space. You ignored me, completely blew off my request for space and time and came anyway. You wonder now why I am distant and a touch rude? Perhaps because I have a three week old baby and I'm exhausted. And because you were here, demanding to see and be seen - I missed out on a three hour nap this afternoon. I am exhausted, have I mentioned that I am EXHAUSTED? I'm lacking the ability to cope with normal stress, with everyday activities, let alone the added pressure of having someone in my home who dislikes me so much.
You have begun a battle of wills that I will win. I am her mother, I am his wife. This is MY family and you don't get to say how it is run. You do not get to parade my daughter around like she is some prize pig at a fair. You do not get any credit for who she is. She is mine, not yours. I carried her all these months. I am the one who gets up in the middle of the night to feed her and cuddle her back to sleep. And he may have been yours long ago, but he is mine now. You've never been my friend, have been nothing but judgmental and cruel, and NOW you want to play the doting grandmother? I think not. I feel ignored, manipulated, railroaded, and just plain pissed off. You and I will never see eye to eye, mostly because you see only what you want, and hear only what you want. I will never understand someone who is so very afraid of animals, someone who is so intolerant of other's beliefs. You will never be able to comprehend the depth of the relationships I have with my icky old dogs. How much they bring to our lives and what they mean to us. That they are an integral part of my being. That yes, we are going to let her "get all doggie." You will never understand me, you never even try. Which is fine, because I no longer have any desire to try to create a relationship with you. No desire to do the "family thing" with you, and no desire to listen to your venom. You do, however, have to respect that this is OUR life, not yours, or you will be promptly removed from any aspect of it. I understand you, I just don't like you, but at least I can play nicely with others. I can put on the happy face and pretend that I am not enraged. Most of the time. Not this time. This time I will let you feel my anger and disdain. Because I am tired, so very, very tired - and here you are, in my face.
I told you not to come - because I was having a baby. And you came anyway - because I was having a baby.
You were not invited. In fact, you were specifically told to wait, perhaps until the holidays when your son could be here to "entertain" you. Because I, I would have a brand new baby and I would need my space. Now was too soon. I have a new baby, later would be better. I was very clear with you - visitors make me uncomfortable, and you especially so because you dislike and are afraid of my dogs, who are my family. You flinch when they brush past you, and you make no secret about how they are "dirty, expensive and time consuming." They are my family, and have been so long before your son was my family. You've never liked them, or me, and you are very clear about that. But now that there is a baby, MY baby - you seem to feel the need to play this grandma gig to the hilt. And yet, you don't like me, and I am her mother. Right now, where she goes, I go. We are still virtually one being, with her wholly dependent on me. You offer to "help" but your idea of helping is sitting on the couch and staring at the wall. You are the most helpless person I've ever met. How do you plan to help me? By telling me what you think I'm doing wrong? I don't need your picking..........
I told you not to come. I told you to wait. To please, give me some time to heal from the ordeal of birth both physically and mentally. How could we have known the baby would be late, I would have a c-section, and that we would both be so so very exhausted? Somehow, I did know. I knew that I would need time to recover and get my feet under me for this "mom thing." I knew that I would need more than three or four weeks to be comfortable enough, healed enough, to have you here. This is why I asked you not to come right away. Because I was having a baby. I knew I would need more time. I would need to be on top of things to deal with you and your dislike and disdain for me and my dogs. Now, I have a three week old baby. I am not on top of anything. It's amazing I showered today. And yet, you are here, in my home, in my personal space. You ignored me, completely blew off my request for space and time and came anyway. You wonder now why I am distant and a touch rude? Perhaps because I have a three week old baby and I'm exhausted. And because you were here, demanding to see and be seen - I missed out on a three hour nap this afternoon. I am exhausted, have I mentioned that I am EXHAUSTED? I'm lacking the ability to cope with normal stress, with everyday activities, let alone the added pressure of having someone in my home who dislikes me so much.
You have begun a battle of wills that I will win. I am her mother, I am his wife. This is MY family and you don't get to say how it is run. You do not get to parade my daughter around like she is some prize pig at a fair. You do not get any credit for who she is. She is mine, not yours. I carried her all these months. I am the one who gets up in the middle of the night to feed her and cuddle her back to sleep. And he may have been yours long ago, but he is mine now. You've never been my friend, have been nothing but judgmental and cruel, and NOW you want to play the doting grandmother? I think not. I feel ignored, manipulated, railroaded, and just plain pissed off. You and I will never see eye to eye, mostly because you see only what you want, and hear only what you want. I will never understand someone who is so very afraid of animals, someone who is so intolerant of other's beliefs. You will never be able to comprehend the depth of the relationships I have with my icky old dogs. How much they bring to our lives and what they mean to us. That they are an integral part of my being. That yes, we are going to let her "get all doggie." You will never understand me, you never even try. Which is fine, because I no longer have any desire to try to create a relationship with you. No desire to do the "family thing" with you, and no desire to listen to your venom. You do, however, have to respect that this is OUR life, not yours, or you will be promptly removed from any aspect of it. I understand you, I just don't like you, but at least I can play nicely with others. I can put on the happy face and pretend that I am not enraged. Most of the time. Not this time. This time I will let you feel my anger and disdain. Because I am tired, so very, very tired - and here you are, in my face.
I told you not to come - because I was having a baby. And you came anyway - because I was having a baby.
Monday, January 12, 2009
Back To My Old Self
Posted By Anonymous.
We dated for two and half years before becoming engaged. I wanted nothing more than to become someones wife. It was seriously the best time of my life, being engaged to you.
Our relationship was full of struggles, but we were happy. You loved me more than I loved myself, you looked after me, you took care of me, you never cheated on me and you cherished me.
As I did you.
And then you told me about your addiction to pain killers. My world crumbled around me.
You went away to rehab leaving me to fend for myself, and I liked it. To have absolute freedom and control over myself and not worrying about anyone else.
Your family never reached out to me to make sure I was OK, and for that, I hated them and knew that if I couldn't depend on these people who were to someday soon be my own family, then I wanted no part of it. Instead, they tried to guilt me into staying with you. You can blame them and not yourself for my decision to leave you.
Two weeks after you moved out, I slept with someone else. It felt absolutely wonderful to get back to the old me - the me who is so fiercely independent, who loves to be desired by other men and gives in on occasion to her lust.
After all is said and done, I think I've come to the realization that I was never meant to be married. And I'm thankful that your addiction was my only way out of our engagement.
But know this, I will never, ever speak ill of you or our situation. You are such a great, kind and gentle human being, who isn't perfect. You made a mistake. I make them all the time.
I will forever love you and am so grateful that I had the opportunity to love someone as much as I loved you and to have that love reciprocated ten fold.
I sincerely hope that you get your act together, find a person who will love you and treat you right. You deserve it.
I know we'll probably never talk again but I think of you every day and the one thought that clouds my mind is if you would have given up on me as quickly as I gave up on you. I know the answer and it kills me. But you have to know that we're better off this way.
And you know as well as I, that I will move on. In some ways I have and I know that's why you don't want to have contact anymore.
I will never regret the decision I made.
We dated for two and half years before becoming engaged. I wanted nothing more than to become someones wife. It was seriously the best time of my life, being engaged to you.
Our relationship was full of struggles, but we were happy. You loved me more than I loved myself, you looked after me, you took care of me, you never cheated on me and you cherished me.
As I did you.
And then you told me about your addiction to pain killers. My world crumbled around me.
You went away to rehab leaving me to fend for myself, and I liked it. To have absolute freedom and control over myself and not worrying about anyone else.
Your family never reached out to me to make sure I was OK, and for that, I hated them and knew that if I couldn't depend on these people who were to someday soon be my own family, then I wanted no part of it. Instead, they tried to guilt me into staying with you. You can blame them and not yourself for my decision to leave you.
Two weeks after you moved out, I slept with someone else. It felt absolutely wonderful to get back to the old me - the me who is so fiercely independent, who loves to be desired by other men and gives in on occasion to her lust.
After all is said and done, I think I've come to the realization that I was never meant to be married. And I'm thankful that your addiction was my only way out of our engagement.
But know this, I will never, ever speak ill of you or our situation. You are such a great, kind and gentle human being, who isn't perfect. You made a mistake. I make them all the time.
I will forever love you and am so grateful that I had the opportunity to love someone as much as I loved you and to have that love reciprocated ten fold.
I sincerely hope that you get your act together, find a person who will love you and treat you right. You deserve it.
I know we'll probably never talk again but I think of you every day and the one thought that clouds my mind is if you would have given up on me as quickly as I gave up on you. I know the answer and it kills me. But you have to know that we're better off this way.
And you know as well as I, that I will move on. In some ways I have and I know that's why you don't want to have contact anymore.
I will never regret the decision I made.
Thursday, January 08, 2009
What's Love?
Posted by Anonymous
Dear Dear Daughter's Sperm Donor:
your favourite pastime is spreading the word how much you love your baby girl.
nagging me to allow you to take studio pics of you and my DD together to send out for xmas.
saying "ill pay child support" when the $10 dollars you could manage to save from the beer fund wouldnt be worth me having to hear "i have rights, i support her"
and strolling her around showing off, when you could be looking to her talking instead of simply pushing her around, she has no idea who is pushing the stroller!
while you may not have the myriad of "privileges" that i have,
like getting up 6 times a night,
having your nipples bleed,
having your whoo-hoo stitched up,
having the man that stayed with you through pregnancy with another mans child roll over and say "we might as well give up for tonight, she's not going to stay sleep for us to get any loving",
and being called a whore by the darling babies biodads mother father grandmother siblings and ENTIRE extended family, and have them tell everyone about it...
having said beautiful baby turn into a toddler who refuses the bottle and won't let momma have one night with her DF..... etc etc
while you may not be lucky enough to do that.... you were given 2 years of chances. to do the very simple things i asked.
not for me.
for her.
for her i asked that you grow some balls and tell your mother, father, sisters, brothers, grandparents, so-called friends to shut up. since you KNOW the baby is yours, and have never said otherwise, and i have offered to do a paternity test if you did question it, its very important to me that you tell these assholes spreading the word that "god-forbid we didnt know if that child would come out black or brown" that you tell these assholes. that they shut up as it will hurt your darling baby girl when she grows up to hear these things on the playground.
instead, you sat by, and she has a legacy of "her biological paternal grandparents, greatgrandparents and uncles and aunt all say she could belong to a dozen men"
for her. i asked you to stop doing drugs and cigarettes and partying like a drunk everyday. for her. so that when she grew up she would not have to have a friend on the playground say "see those 3 bums over there, one is your daddy"
instead. you can't help it. your life is so hard and it makes you so upset to see your daughter with my DF and i....... and you simply can't say no to your friends. you claim you arent addicted. you just do it to fit in. WHAT A FINE QUALITY FOR A FATHER... "must fit in with coked out friends"
for her. i asked you to move out of the crazies house. so that when you wanted to visit your daughter, she could come over. as i would not allow her to go to the house where your family would go nuts on her and hurt her with their stupidity. for her. i thought it would be great and you could talk and play with her instead of simply strolling her about...
instead. for the past 2 years, you asked 1 person about a possible rental. and decided that would waste too much money. because you simply HAVE to go see your girlfriend, and flying and partying and renting houses in the big city is expensive.
which brings me to that. a woman that you see on the road and she points and says "hey you" and you sleep with that night is not good stepmom material. ( i was not model material either, but i have changed as you have never disputed) since you love your darling daughter so much i would think you would make a better choice. even though you have seen this woman 4-5 times over the past few months and had sex these times, it does not constitue a dedicated relationship.
so here it is simply: if you LOVE your daughter, like you say, and you will do anything, like you have said and have not made any action: you will have to stop throwing your entire months salary away to see this woman you love so much and have just met and must party with. and get a lawyer.
it's not that i "just don't like her' or i am jealous. i HATE that when i said "choose the baby or your slut" you said "i cant give up my slut. she's nice. i love her" when you should have said "well i dont want too. but if thats the only way ok' to which i would have said "Wow. THAT is really something. i am so impressed in a way i havent been ever....you dont have to give up ur g/f, just dont ever think you'll watch my baby while yall are partying and best be ready for my random drug testing"
so.......child support and visitation go hand in hand.
snot that i want the money. its that i NEED to see some sort of action. after all i have done for her in 2 years.... i have heard nothing but empty promises from you. and i cry. i do. cause you must not really know her. cause if you did. you would love her as much as i do. there would be no choice for me. not a 10 seconds delay to think about it....
but at the end is. its sad. because in one way. i really hope. hope. that this will force you to say "my child is important. i must wake up." but why should i have to force it? why do i even have to make demands. demands for you to do whats best for her. shouldnt you as the most loving dad ever be running to me. asking and begging to do anything and everything for her.................
and i know. you won't choose her. you wont. you'd rather live at home with those that hate her, those that have to look the other way when they see her. you'd rather hang out with those friends that say you are an idiot and she doesnt belong to you, those same friends that didnt think enough of you to warn you about me if i was so bad....you'd rather throw away every dollar you have to get some pussy from someone you don't know, but "seems nice", then see your daughter.....
and when i say you'll never see her again. and i dont want to mean it. but if you can't make one little sacrifice for her. not one little thing. not 1 dollar in a bank account..... not even moving out so you could play with her more in 2 YEARS!!!!
then you really don't deserve her.
you don't know what love is.... and now that i do. that unconditional doing HARD things i dont like for my child. for her good. planning for her future....i wont settle for anyone to be in her life that doesnt really LOVE her. and 2 years of chances is enough.
i would say i expect to hear from your lawyer. but i wont.
the thought that wasting money on a lawyer to be able see your soon to be 2 year old daughter.....the thought of wasting that money and having to lose a woman you've had sex with a few dozen times in the past half year just is unthinkable.
and i dont care if every person i know says "bad mother. she should be able to know her father" i dont care.
they've called me a whore before.
i am a good mother. and i will protect her from your miserable failings and "love". just hope your gf doesnt dump you too soon. wouldnt want to have to deal with your renewed attetion on us again...
btw... she has a father. a man that has kissed her goodnight since she was born. a man that works hard and will be paying for her college and everything else, without being asked, he just assumes its his duty, cause he pretends like she is his. a man that changes her poppie diapers when the 1st time i asked you said "i dont know how to do THAT" a man that sometimes doesn't get to party everynight and have lots of sex, because he is taking care of her. a man that said "by the time she can write i hope she can have my last name", a man that when ive lost patience and can't take it...dances and sings UB40 to her. and a man that whispers to her when he thinks i'm asleep "doesnt matter if he doesnt love you Toria, ill take care of you".................
Dear Dear Daughter's Sperm Donor:
your favourite pastime is spreading the word how much you love your baby girl.
nagging me to allow you to take studio pics of you and my DD together to send out for xmas.
saying "ill pay child support" when the $10 dollars you could manage to save from the beer fund wouldnt be worth me having to hear "i have rights, i support her"
and strolling her around showing off, when you could be looking to her talking instead of simply pushing her around, she has no idea who is pushing the stroller!
while you may not have the myriad of "privileges" that i have,
like getting up 6 times a night,
having your nipples bleed,
having your whoo-hoo stitched up,
having the man that stayed with you through pregnancy with another mans child roll over and say "we might as well give up for tonight, she's not going to stay sleep for us to get any loving",
and being called a whore by the darling babies biodads mother father grandmother siblings and ENTIRE extended family, and have them tell everyone about it...
having said beautiful baby turn into a toddler who refuses the bottle and won't let momma have one night with her DF..... etc etc
while you may not be lucky enough to do that.... you were given 2 years of chances. to do the very simple things i asked.
not for me.
for her.
for her i asked that you grow some balls and tell your mother, father, sisters, brothers, grandparents, so-called friends to shut up. since you KNOW the baby is yours, and have never said otherwise, and i have offered to do a paternity test if you did question it, its very important to me that you tell these assholes spreading the word that "god-forbid we didnt know if that child would come out black or brown" that you tell these assholes. that they shut up as it will hurt your darling baby girl when she grows up to hear these things on the playground.
instead, you sat by, and she has a legacy of "her biological paternal grandparents, greatgrandparents and uncles and aunt all say she could belong to a dozen men"
for her. i asked you to stop doing drugs and cigarettes and partying like a drunk everyday. for her. so that when she grew up she would not have to have a friend on the playground say "see those 3 bums over there, one is your daddy"
instead. you can't help it. your life is so hard and it makes you so upset to see your daughter with my DF and i....... and you simply can't say no to your friends. you claim you arent addicted. you just do it to fit in. WHAT A FINE QUALITY FOR A FATHER... "must fit in with coked out friends"
for her. i asked you to move out of the crazies house. so that when you wanted to visit your daughter, she could come over. as i would not allow her to go to the house where your family would go nuts on her and hurt her with their stupidity. for her. i thought it would be great and you could talk and play with her instead of simply strolling her about...
instead. for the past 2 years, you asked 1 person about a possible rental. and decided that would waste too much money. because you simply HAVE to go see your girlfriend, and flying and partying and renting houses in the big city is expensive.
which brings me to that. a woman that you see on the road and she points and says "hey you" and you sleep with that night is not good stepmom material. ( i was not model material either, but i have changed as you have never disputed) since you love your darling daughter so much i would think you would make a better choice. even though you have seen this woman 4-5 times over the past few months and had sex these times, it does not constitue a dedicated relationship.
so here it is simply: if you LOVE your daughter, like you say, and you will do anything, like you have said and have not made any action: you will have to stop throwing your entire months salary away to see this woman you love so much and have just met and must party with. and get a lawyer.
it's not that i "just don't like her' or i am jealous. i HATE that when i said "choose the baby or your slut" you said "i cant give up my slut. she's nice. i love her" when you should have said "well i dont want too. but if thats the only way ok' to which i would have said "Wow. THAT is really something. i am so impressed in a way i havent been ever....you dont have to give up ur g/f, just dont ever think you'll watch my baby while yall are partying and best be ready for my random drug testing"
so.......child support and visitation go hand in hand.
snot that i want the money. its that i NEED to see some sort of action. after all i have done for her in 2 years.... i have heard nothing but empty promises from you. and i cry. i do. cause you must not really know her. cause if you did. you would love her as much as i do. there would be no choice for me. not a 10 seconds delay to think about it....
but at the end is. its sad. because in one way. i really hope. hope. that this will force you to say "my child is important. i must wake up." but why should i have to force it? why do i even have to make demands. demands for you to do whats best for her. shouldnt you as the most loving dad ever be running to me. asking and begging to do anything and everything for her.................
and i know. you won't choose her. you wont. you'd rather live at home with those that hate her, those that have to look the other way when they see her. you'd rather hang out with those friends that say you are an idiot and she doesnt belong to you, those same friends that didnt think enough of you to warn you about me if i was so bad....you'd rather throw away every dollar you have to get some pussy from someone you don't know, but "seems nice", then see your daughter.....
and when i say you'll never see her again. and i dont want to mean it. but if you can't make one little sacrifice for her. not one little thing. not 1 dollar in a bank account..... not even moving out so you could play with her more in 2 YEARS!!!!
then you really don't deserve her.
you don't know what love is.... and now that i do. that unconditional doing HARD things i dont like for my child. for her good. planning for her future....i wont settle for anyone to be in her life that doesnt really LOVE her. and 2 years of chances is enough.
i would say i expect to hear from your lawyer. but i wont.
the thought that wasting money on a lawyer to be able see your soon to be 2 year old daughter.....the thought of wasting that money and having to lose a woman you've had sex with a few dozen times in the past half year just is unthinkable.
and i dont care if every person i know says "bad mother. she should be able to know her father" i dont care.
they've called me a whore before.
i am a good mother. and i will protect her from your miserable failings and "love". just hope your gf doesnt dump you too soon. wouldnt want to have to deal with your renewed attetion on us again...
btw... she has a father. a man that has kissed her goodnight since she was born. a man that works hard and will be paying for her college and everything else, without being asked, he just assumes its his duty, cause he pretends like she is his. a man that changes her poppie diapers when the 1st time i asked you said "i dont know how to do THAT" a man that sometimes doesn't get to party everynight and have lots of sex, because he is taking care of her. a man that said "by the time she can write i hope she can have my last name", a man that when ive lost patience and can't take it...dances and sings UB40 to her. and a man that whispers to her when he thinks i'm asleep "doesnt matter if he doesnt love you Toria, ill take care of you".................
Monday, January 05, 2009
Addict
Posted by Anonymous.
OK so I know my problem..I am an internet addict..
there. I said it.
do I forgo food?
no
do I forgo feeding my family?
no.
is my house hazmat bad?
no..
BUT
my house is NOT clean...it is cluttered and dusty and the clothes need washed and the floors need scrubbed..
I do delay feeding said family..sometimes the pull of the computer chair is just too great.
and sometimes I forgo feeding myself for a while..maybe not such a bad thing since i am over weight to begin with
my kids do suffer for it.
my husband suffers for it
their homework suffers for it.
my bills suffer for it.
the laundry suffers for it.
dinner suffers for it.
I know my health suffers for it.
am I addicted to porn?
No.
am I addicted to one thing?
no..
I LOVE being online..it is like a GIGANTIC book...anything you want to know/read/do all in one place.
I could clean..but there is some app on my space I can play instead..
I could get dinner now instead of rushing to throw it together at the last minute..BUTTT there is a message board somewhere that I HAVE to read now.
Oh the oldest child is suffering in school?
mmm..nope..sorry..have e-mail to answer.
for all of the sugar coating in the world.. nothing will change that I put this computer above my family.
sad.
very very very sad.
OK so I know my problem..I am an internet addict..
there. I said it.
do I forgo food?
no
do I forgo feeding my family?
no.
is my house hazmat bad?
no..
BUT
my house is NOT clean...it is cluttered and dusty and the clothes need washed and the floors need scrubbed..
I do delay feeding said family..sometimes the pull of the computer chair is just too great.
and sometimes I forgo feeding myself for a while..maybe not such a bad thing since i am over weight to begin with
my kids do suffer for it.
my husband suffers for it
their homework suffers for it.
my bills suffer for it.
the laundry suffers for it.
dinner suffers for it.
I know my health suffers for it.
am I addicted to porn?
No.
am I addicted to one thing?
no..
I LOVE being online..it is like a GIGANTIC book...anything you want to know/read/do all in one place.
I could clean..but there is some app on my space I can play instead..
I could get dinner now instead of rushing to throw it together at the last minute..BUTTT there is a message board somewhere that I HAVE to read now.
Oh the oldest child is suffering in school?
mmm..nope..sorry..have e-mail to answer.
for all of the sugar coating in the world.. nothing will change that I put this computer above my family.
sad.
very very very sad.
Friday, January 02, 2009
Found
Posted by Anonymous.
I know I shouldn’t have. But when his sister and I connected on Facebook, I couldn’t help it. I had to look. Sure enough, he was there, his twinkling eyes and impish demeanor smiling back from 96 photos.
My first thoughts? He’s packed on about 50 pounds since the last time I saw him – and I’ll admit that I took delight in this observation. His fiancée, the girl he chose over me nearly four years ago, is plain, frumpy, and chubby. Smirk.
And feel? How did I feel? I felt nothing -- no sorrow, no longing. A little surprised, and glad even, that he’d accepted my bid for online friendship. Our breakup was disastrous, and I willingly accept the blame for that because I very nearly lost my damn mind. You never really know what you’re capable of and when he left me I discovered a brand of crazy I didn’t know existed. I don’t have many regrets, but my reaction to that breakup is one of the few things I wish I could change about my life.
And if I’m to be completely honest, I wish I hadn’t found him again. Not for the typical reasons – I don’t want him. I’m engaged to a man who makes me deliriously happy and provides for me in exactly the way I need it. He supports and motivates me, and is the reason I am (physically and emotionally) in the good, sweet place I am today. He is my heart, and I am eternally grateful that I was able to endure such heartache because doing so brought me to him.
No, I wish I hadn’t found the ex because it has created sadness in a different way. I’ve spent a lot of time on Facebook lately, looking at photos and profiles of people I used to know. It’s caused a lot of memories to burble up. Places I used to go, things I used to do, people who once were close friends. It’s made me homesick, and I haven’t been able to shake that feeling for five days now.
It’s made me feel old – that my youth is withering away. Four years ago I was a 23-year-old-woman with the world at my feet. And what a world it was! In the aftermath of that breakup, I got to know two people who are now my best friends. I won awards for my professional work. I went back to school. I learned how to accept and forgive. I realized that I deserved more than what I was being given from certain people and jobs, and I discovered how to stand up for myself.
I’m more settled now. My friends have children. I have a mortgage and a wedding to plan, not to mention three future stepsons. I dream about children of my own.
In many ways my life is just beginning. But a part of it is gone that I’ll never get back.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
The Price Of Motherhood
Posted by Anonymous.
I feel like shit. I interviewed for a position and the person they hired posted their resume on the internet. I googled her. She speaks 3 languages, has a degree and diploma, has worked with countless graphic design firms, and she had to come along and eat the little job I was applying for. Why didn't she try for something bigger and leave the scraps for me?
What makes me upset the most is that there's no way for me to get what she has. I have no time to upgrade my skills or gain the experience she has without risking my steady paycheque. I spend ALL of my free time taking care of three children. I can't go to the bathroom myself, can't shower by myself, can't go to sleep by myself. It's always "mommy, mommy, mommy" for everything, even in the middle of the night. My whole life has been interrupted by these kids. I once had so much fire in me that I felt I could take the world by storm and show them what I'm made of. Now I've been reduced to a depressed mess.
I feel like I missed my chance to have a career, and not just a job. I wanted a family, but didn't realize at the time that it would mean my doing 90% of the household work and still being looked at like I'm not doing enough. I didn't realize at the time that I would have to give up who I was and what I stood for in order to be 'mommy' and 'wife'. I didn't realize how much I would have to sacrifice to have kids. And despite how many times people tell you about the true responsibilities of having kids, I never fully got it until I had them. Now I'm bitter and angry.
I'm mad at my husband for being allowed to carry on as if nothing has happened to his life. He can still climb that corporate ladder, socialize and put his needs first without being accused of being a bad parent, while I have to take a back seat and pretend that I have no needs of my own. I have to listen to other mothers at work talk about mommy guilt and how they can't do enough for their babies and wish they had time to do more for their kids. More? Really? Is sacrificing everything not enough? It's like they've been sucked into a 'mommy' universe where they are no longer people, no longer women, just mommies with no desires outside those that involve their kids. Some women will whisper to me about the difficulties they face, but won't say anything out in the open. It's like a secret, a big shameful secret to be tired and exhausted from carrying an entire family on your shoulders.
I just want to scream sometimes in the most inappropriate places "I can be a mother to my children without having to give up everything!!!!!!!". Even if I just had a space to talk about it and not have to bottle it inside to avoid the 'selfish mother' title. Now, I'm stuck in a job I don't like and I barely have enough time to brush my own teeth let alone study for school to upgrade my skills. Even though I love the little people inside my house, I know that given the chance, I would not ever do this again. The price of motherhood has been too much for me. I am so miserably unhappy.
I feel like shit. I interviewed for a position and the person they hired posted their resume on the internet. I googled her. She speaks 3 languages, has a degree and diploma, has worked with countless graphic design firms, and she had to come along and eat the little job I was applying for. Why didn't she try for something bigger and leave the scraps for me?
What makes me upset the most is that there's no way for me to get what she has. I have no time to upgrade my skills or gain the experience she has without risking my steady paycheque. I spend ALL of my free time taking care of three children. I can't go to the bathroom myself, can't shower by myself, can't go to sleep by myself. It's always "mommy, mommy, mommy" for everything, even in the middle of the night. My whole life has been interrupted by these kids. I once had so much fire in me that I felt I could take the world by storm and show them what I'm made of. Now I've been reduced to a depressed mess.
I feel like I missed my chance to have a career, and not just a job. I wanted a family, but didn't realize at the time that it would mean my doing 90% of the household work and still being looked at like I'm not doing enough. I didn't realize at the time that I would have to give up who I was and what I stood for in order to be 'mommy' and 'wife'. I didn't realize how much I would have to sacrifice to have kids. And despite how many times people tell you about the true responsibilities of having kids, I never fully got it until I had them. Now I'm bitter and angry.
I'm mad at my husband for being allowed to carry on as if nothing has happened to his life. He can still climb that corporate ladder, socialize and put his needs first without being accused of being a bad parent, while I have to take a back seat and pretend that I have no needs of my own. I have to listen to other mothers at work talk about mommy guilt and how they can't do enough for their babies and wish they had time to do more for their kids. More? Really? Is sacrificing everything not enough? It's like they've been sucked into a 'mommy' universe where they are no longer people, no longer women, just mommies with no desires outside those that involve their kids. Some women will whisper to me about the difficulties they face, but won't say anything out in the open. It's like a secret, a big shameful secret to be tired and exhausted from carrying an entire family on your shoulders.
I just want to scream sometimes in the most inappropriate places "I can be a mother to my children without having to give up everything!!!!!!!". Even if I just had a space to talk about it and not have to bottle it inside to avoid the 'selfish mother' title. Now, I'm stuck in a job I don't like and I barely have enough time to brush my own teeth let alone study for school to upgrade my skills. Even though I love the little people inside my house, I know that given the chance, I would not ever do this again. The price of motherhood has been too much for me. I am so miserably unhappy.
Sunday, December 21, 2008
The Bank Account
Posted by Anonymous.
Yesterday my husband went to the doctor. He got a new perscription and, rather than wait however long it took for the pharmacist to get the insurance company's approval for coverage, he paid the total cost of the perscription with a check.
There was not that much money in our checking account.
There is so much of a marriage that goes into mistakes like this, so much history that informs its meaning. We are both inept with money, but about ten years ago I became the household accountant, due to the fact that I am slightly less horrible at it than he is. I pay bills late, but I don't bounce checks. I still struggle to do the responsible thing with money, but not bouncing checks is enough to make me Chancellor of the Exchequer around here.
But last night the husband was childishly impatient and he wrote a check he should not have, so today I drove to the little bank that holds my little personal savings account, and I took out nearly everything and deposited it in our joint checking account to cover the check. I was in time. It will not bounce.
And then I sat in my car and I cried. I cried because this tiny little savings account, though it would never make me rich or even get us out of debt, was mine. It was the only thing in our lives that was, really and truly, mine. That mattered to me. I am the stay-at-home mom to our children, which is the right decision for us, but leaves me with no career, no job experience, and precious little indiependence. Those dollars cobbled together from birthday gifts and rebates I sent in and other odds and ends told me that I still had a separate identity, something independent of my children and my husband. Even if I raided it occasionally to cover other family expenses, I had invested it with the significance I Am Still A Person, not just a cog in the household machine.
Now it is gone. Tomorrow I will get up again and do the usual chores, and over the next few years I will add to the account by dribs and drabs again, and we will be alright. This doesn't end things. It just hurts, and I wanted to say so in a place where I was free to grieve, somewhere I could be openly sad for this small loss.
Yesterday my husband went to the doctor. He got a new perscription and, rather than wait however long it took for the pharmacist to get the insurance company's approval for coverage, he paid the total cost of the perscription with a check.
There was not that much money in our checking account.
There is so much of a marriage that goes into mistakes like this, so much history that informs its meaning. We are both inept with money, but about ten years ago I became the household accountant, due to the fact that I am slightly less horrible at it than he is. I pay bills late, but I don't bounce checks. I still struggle to do the responsible thing with money, but not bouncing checks is enough to make me Chancellor of the Exchequer around here.
But last night the husband was childishly impatient and he wrote a check he should not have, so today I drove to the little bank that holds my little personal savings account, and I took out nearly everything and deposited it in our joint checking account to cover the check. I was in time. It will not bounce.
And then I sat in my car and I cried. I cried because this tiny little savings account, though it would never make me rich or even get us out of debt, was mine. It was the only thing in our lives that was, really and truly, mine. That mattered to me. I am the stay-at-home mom to our children, which is the right decision for us, but leaves me with no career, no job experience, and precious little indiependence. Those dollars cobbled together from birthday gifts and rebates I sent in and other odds and ends told me that I still had a separate identity, something independent of my children and my husband. Even if I raided it occasionally to cover other family expenses, I had invested it with the significance I Am Still A Person, not just a cog in the household machine.
Now it is gone. Tomorrow I will get up again and do the usual chores, and over the next few years I will add to the account by dribs and drabs again, and we will be alright. This doesn't end things. It just hurts, and I wanted to say so in a place where I was free to grieve, somewhere I could be openly sad for this small loss.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
You Just Don't Know
Posted by Anonymous.
I need to get something off my chest. You (my sibling, my mother-in-law, my mother, my friend) call me and you ask me how I’m doing. I answer “overwhelmed.” And somehow this is your cue to gush “Oh! I know!” and then launch into the many ways you are busy and also overwhelmed.
I’m sorry. You don’t know.
You, with your no children or older children or grandchildren cannot possibly “know” how overwhelmed I feel with three small children, a busy husband, a house, volunteer commitments and the other million little things that need my attention every day. You who sleep all night cannot possibly understand what it’s like to tackle all I have on my plate after night after night of little sleep. So please don’t tell me “you know” because you don’t. You can’t fathom my level of overwhelm right now.
Listen, I do know that you’re overwhelmed. I believe it! I too have felt completely overwhelmed without all that I have going on right now. The point of this is NOT that I’m way more overwhelmed than you are. The point is that I don’t share this information with you so that I can hear about everything going on in your life. I tell you I’m overwhelmed because I really need to vent and get some support right now. When you respond “I know!” and launch into a litany of all the things on your plate it feels like you’re taking my plea for help and throwing it back in my face.
So in the future, when you ask how I’m doing and I respond “overwhelmed!” instead of “good!” please, please don’t take this as an opportunity to add even more to my plate. Please take a breath and acknowledge that I’ve reached out to you. Because you really can’t know unless you’ve been here or you’ve asked me what it’s like.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Sick
Posted by Anonymous.
Imagine you had a grandchild who was immune deficient. Now, just say you had another grandchild who came down with gastro and then add into the mix that an arrangement had been made with two other grandkids (who you don’t see very often) for a sleepover. Would you then go and visit the infectious grandchild just before the said sleep over, considering those kids are the siblings of the immune deficient child?
Would you not tell the parents until the big kids had been in the house for 24 hours that you had been to see the sick kid?
Would you carry on and make the eldest grandchild feel bad when she wants to come home (for fear of infecting her sister with gastro) when she finds out that the still infectious child is coming to be babysat at the sleepover house?
What about if the grandfather suddenly came down with the stomach bug? Would you tell the grandchild she was selfish for wanting to come home?
As the mother of the immune deficient child, would you be angry because you know that once the gastro hits your house (and it will) and the immune deficient child gets it, it will mean another week in hospital?
I don’t get it.
No, my parents in law don’t get it.
Either that or they just don’t care.
We have a mess of kids. The bug will run through them like wild fire.
Our family dynamics are already strained. Very strained.
We don’t need this and yet the two (now infectious children) are on their way home.
I don’t usually swear but
FUCK.
Tuesday, December 09, 2008
Monday, December 08, 2008
Spiritually Stuck
Posted by Anonymous.
I hate going to church. I hate it.
If I only had to go on Sunday I could manage to trod along but it’s not just Sundays. For example, by the end of this week I will have had church related commitments, either for me or one of my children, everyday for the past 9 days. 9 freaking days of meetings or activities that my kids needed to attend or lessons I have had to teach, on at least half of those days there was more than one thing that needed to be done.
If it were only the time commitment I could probably manage, even though it’s gotten to be a huge time commitment, but I am sick of feeling like even when I’m dragging myself and my family uphill against the wind to make it to everything I am still being judged. It’s as if I am surrounded my people who want to tell me if I could just give a “little more” I would be almost good enough. Almost. And there are couple of women especially, that I feel like if I have to have many more conversations with them I am going to pull my hair out. All of it, and I have thick hair, it could take a while. The problem is I work closely with at least one of these women so, yeah, I’m going to be having many more conversations with her, all the while I am screaming inside.
The worst part is that even if I had to attend something EVERYDAY with women who need to take hormone shots if I believed in it I think I could do it, but that’s the thing, I don’t think I believe it. I feel spiritually dead, and I can’t tell anyone. If my husband knew that I felt like this he would be devastated. He would start with an exorcism and move on from there. He was raised religious and I was not. I have tried to be what he wants, at times I have been pretty good at it, but for the last year it has been getting harder and harder for me. Our religion is everything to him. I’m afraid to say anything, it’s not just a Sunday thing, it’s a lifestyle (an often time sucking, guilt inducing, demanding lifestyle) and our kids have been raised this way and like I said there are commitments and expectations.
I hate it and I’m stuck. I know I’m stuck because the consequences of me dropping out would be too great. I love my husband and my kids too much to quit something that is so much a part of our (their) lifestyle. I’m mad and sad because I feel like I have no alternative but to keep pretending. I feel like I have sacrificed my life on the proverbial alter and there is not one person in my life that I can talk to about this, I can’t think of anyone I know who would understand. They would either tell me to pray harder to keep Satan at bay or those on the other end would never understand why I feel like I have to keep faking it.
It feels cowardly to post this here, but if I don’t get it out, even just this little bit, I feel like I am going to explode, or worse, shut down. I just keep wondering if I can keep this up forever.
Wednesday, December 03, 2008
The Monster
Posted by Anonymous
I'm going to warn you now that this post might enrage you as it does me. Mostly because I cannot help the situation. I cry a lot over it.
I have a friend - let's call her Sarah - with three kids. Two boys are her oldest and youngest and her little girl is the middle child. These kids are kind, sweet, adorable, polite...everything their mother is and more. Sarah is one of my best friends.
About 3.5 years ago, Sarah left her husband of 15 years. She left him because she finally had enough of his abusive ways. She beat her, belittled her, broke her down repeatedly, often in front of the kids. He was a peeping tom and caught several times by wives of friends in
their old town. He has a very strong desire for teenage porn and has told Sarah many times that he can't wait for their daughter to have sleepovers.
He was not an involved father, drank to excess frequently, spent money they did not have, was unable to hold a job for longer than a few months and made them live on his income. Sarah was not allowed to work. She filled her time raising those three beautiful children who are all less then 12 years old now, so they were all less than 8 years old when Sarah finally stood up to him and left with her kids.
She told me in the car one day on the way to the gym that she was leaving him. I was shocked. Not only had my friend gone through hell those 15 years, she had hid it well from every single person she knew.
As Sarah went through a very trying time of securing a place to live, finding employment and resources to help her keep her family above water, the Ex played mind games, one after the other to intimidate her. He showed up at her new home without calling, he called her
repeatedly - sometimes 100's of times a night, he barged into her new place and stuck his hand down her pants to feel her, then accused her of still loving him because she was wet (aren't all vaginas naturally wet? Pervert.) He told the children to never bathe or shower with their mother because she was a slut now, sleeping around. (She hadn't dated anyone - she was too busy taking her children to therapy, family court, children's services, on top of school and 'normal' commitments.) Further to that, Sarah has been in 3 car accidents in the last 8 years - 2 of them the Ex was driving, the 3rd she was rear-ended. She deals with chronic pain and physiotherapy. She doesn't have an easy life as it is.
The mindgames escalated when Sarah used her grandmother's inheritance to buy her little family a used car. Ex showed up in the middle of the night, on 4 separate occasions, to deflate her tires, key her car, and other little things - but only on days where she had to be somewhere like children's services at 9 a.m. The Ex also claimed his income was $12K/year and got away with paying a mere $27/month/child. He never paid that meager amount anyway.
He called over 100 times while I was at her house one day. Finally I took the cordless phone outside and answered it myself. I asked him if he was drinking. I told him he was upsetting the children. He didn't like that I wouldn't put Sarah or the kids on the phone. I advised him that if he continued to harass Sarah, I would call the police. He kept calling and we called the police, who went to his home and got him to knock it off.
Within a week, he tried to hit my car with his. My kids were in the car too. Once again, the police were involved (I called immediately). He denied it and the matter was dropped.
Despite all of this craziness, Sarah, with the help of a lot of therapy and us as her friends, did a complete 180 on her personality and went from being this meek woman to someone who was very proud of herself, very aware of who she was and a woman who knew what she wanted. She remained a caring, sweet person, but now she had an unbreakable spine.
Nearly 2 years passed and Sarah began dating a lovely man, a guy my husband and I really liked. He was thrilled to have this instant family, this wonderful woman and her beautiful kids. But there was the Ex to contend with and make no mistake, he really made things
difficult.
The man was not put off by Ex's attempts - in fact, it only made it easier to love Sarah and the kids because the man felt the need to protect this new family.
And so he has. Through thick and thin - though times of bonecrushing stress, this man has stood because Sarah as she has navigated the court system to try and secure the best possible situation for her kids. He even bought a house in a small town for them all to live in.
They truly are a happy couple and the kids love him.
The court has sent those kids back to their father for visitation despite:
- the kids crying and screaming not to go to his house
- the youngest (age 7) wetting the bed
- the two youngest having repeated yeast infections
- the Ex not administering prescription medicine for ear infections
with 2 of the kids
- the Ex drinking and driving
- the Ex having kids in the front seat while driving (it's not safe
because he can't turn his airbag off and none of the kids are old
enough to be in the front seat yet)
- the Ex drinking and phoning Sarah to verbally abuse her while the
kids are in his presence
- the Ex telling the oldest son that he has a big penis and that girls
will really like that someday
- the Ex getting on MSN messenger to chat with the oldest and having a
picture of his 'girlfriend' in a bathrobe, legs spread eagle, as his
profile picture
- the Ex telling the oldest that 'mommy plays with herself in the shower'
- the Ex explaining sexual positions to the oldest
- the Ex telling the daughter that mommy is getting fat and to be
careful she doesn't end up like mom (Sarah is nowhere near fat)
- the Ex doing absolutely everything for the daughter, rendering her
an indecisive mess by the end of every visit (she comes home unable to
make decisions or do anything for herself - Sarah is very concerned
about what he is doing to her daughter)
- the Ex yelling and swearing at the kids, both in person and on the phone
- the Ex not feeding the kids, returning them starving after nearly 24
hours with no food in their bellies
- the Ex threatening the children if they say anything about him to
Children's Services
- the Ex not returning the kids at his designated time (this has
happened at least 10 times)
The list goes on and on.
This man is not a man. He is not a father. He is a monster.
Sarah has documented everything and submitted everything to Children's Services and the courts. The police have been involved so many times it's ridiculous. These kids really need to be protected from their father.
I hope today is the very last straw. Sarah called to tell me that Ex had told the kids to walk home after their visitation.
IT'S A 90 MINUTE DRIVE. ON A SUNDAY NIGHT. IN THE DARK.
The police picked the kids up on a road as they walked. Children's services is involved again.
Sarah has toed the line until now. She has obeyed the court's wishes to the letter.
She has sent her children back to their father for the very last time.
Her words to me today chilled me to the bone: "What more has to happen? Does he have to kill them?"
I'm so terrified for them. For her. Because I'm afraid that is exactly what he will do, and I don't know if it will be an accident from drinking, or something else - but he doesn't care about those
kids in the least. All he wants is to hurt her.
Let's hope this final straw will be the kick in the ass Children's Services needs to finally say no more to the Ex.
Postscript: He got access back. No, I don't understand why.
I'm going to warn you now that this post might enrage you as it does me. Mostly because I cannot help the situation. I cry a lot over it.
I have a friend - let's call her Sarah - with three kids. Two boys are her oldest and youngest and her little girl is the middle child. These kids are kind, sweet, adorable, polite...everything their mother is and more. Sarah is one of my best friends.
About 3.5 years ago, Sarah left her husband of 15 years. She left him because she finally had enough of his abusive ways. She beat her, belittled her, broke her down repeatedly, often in front of the kids. He was a peeping tom and caught several times by wives of friends in
their old town. He has a very strong desire for teenage porn and has told Sarah many times that he can't wait for their daughter to have sleepovers.
He was not an involved father, drank to excess frequently, spent money they did not have, was unable to hold a job for longer than a few months and made them live on his income. Sarah was not allowed to work. She filled her time raising those three beautiful children who are all less then 12 years old now, so they were all less than 8 years old when Sarah finally stood up to him and left with her kids.
She told me in the car one day on the way to the gym that she was leaving him. I was shocked. Not only had my friend gone through hell those 15 years, she had hid it well from every single person she knew.
As Sarah went through a very trying time of securing a place to live, finding employment and resources to help her keep her family above water, the Ex played mind games, one after the other to intimidate her. He showed up at her new home without calling, he called her
repeatedly - sometimes 100's of times a night, he barged into her new place and stuck his hand down her pants to feel her, then accused her of still loving him because she was wet (aren't all vaginas naturally wet? Pervert.) He told the children to never bathe or shower with their mother because she was a slut now, sleeping around. (She hadn't dated anyone - she was too busy taking her children to therapy, family court, children's services, on top of school and 'normal' commitments.) Further to that, Sarah has been in 3 car accidents in the last 8 years - 2 of them the Ex was driving, the 3rd she was rear-ended. She deals with chronic pain and physiotherapy. She doesn't have an easy life as it is.
The mindgames escalated when Sarah used her grandmother's inheritance to buy her little family a used car. Ex showed up in the middle of the night, on 4 separate occasions, to deflate her tires, key her car, and other little things - but only on days where she had to be somewhere like children's services at 9 a.m. The Ex also claimed his income was $12K/year and got away with paying a mere $27/month/child. He never paid that meager amount anyway.
He called over 100 times while I was at her house one day. Finally I took the cordless phone outside and answered it myself. I asked him if he was drinking. I told him he was upsetting the children. He didn't like that I wouldn't put Sarah or the kids on the phone. I advised him that if he continued to harass Sarah, I would call the police. He kept calling and we called the police, who went to his home and got him to knock it off.
Within a week, he tried to hit my car with his. My kids were in the car too. Once again, the police were involved (I called immediately). He denied it and the matter was dropped.
Despite all of this craziness, Sarah, with the help of a lot of therapy and us as her friends, did a complete 180 on her personality and went from being this meek woman to someone who was very proud of herself, very aware of who she was and a woman who knew what she wanted. She remained a caring, sweet person, but now she had an unbreakable spine.
Nearly 2 years passed and Sarah began dating a lovely man, a guy my husband and I really liked. He was thrilled to have this instant family, this wonderful woman and her beautiful kids. But there was the Ex to contend with and make no mistake, he really made things
difficult.
The man was not put off by Ex's attempts - in fact, it only made it easier to love Sarah and the kids because the man felt the need to protect this new family.
And so he has. Through thick and thin - though times of bonecrushing stress, this man has stood because Sarah as she has navigated the court system to try and secure the best possible situation for her kids. He even bought a house in a small town for them all to live in.
They truly are a happy couple and the kids love him.
The court has sent those kids back to their father for visitation despite:
- the kids crying and screaming not to go to his house
- the youngest (age 7) wetting the bed
- the two youngest having repeated yeast infections
- the Ex not administering prescription medicine for ear infections
with 2 of the kids
- the Ex drinking and driving
- the Ex having kids in the front seat while driving (it's not safe
because he can't turn his airbag off and none of the kids are old
enough to be in the front seat yet)
- the Ex drinking and phoning Sarah to verbally abuse her while the
kids are in his presence
- the Ex telling the oldest son that he has a big penis and that girls
will really like that someday
- the Ex getting on MSN messenger to chat with the oldest and having a
picture of his 'girlfriend' in a bathrobe, legs spread eagle, as his
profile picture
- the Ex telling the oldest that 'mommy plays with herself in the shower'
- the Ex explaining sexual positions to the oldest
- the Ex telling the daughter that mommy is getting fat and to be
careful she doesn't end up like mom (Sarah is nowhere near fat)
- the Ex doing absolutely everything for the daughter, rendering her
an indecisive mess by the end of every visit (she comes home unable to
make decisions or do anything for herself - Sarah is very concerned
about what he is doing to her daughter)
- the Ex yelling and swearing at the kids, both in person and on the phone
- the Ex not feeding the kids, returning them starving after nearly 24
hours with no food in their bellies
- the Ex threatening the children if they say anything about him to
Children's Services
- the Ex not returning the kids at his designated time (this has
happened at least 10 times)
The list goes on and on.
This man is not a man. He is not a father. He is a monster.
Sarah has documented everything and submitted everything to Children's Services and the courts. The police have been involved so many times it's ridiculous. These kids really need to be protected from their father.
I hope today is the very last straw. Sarah called to tell me that Ex had told the kids to walk home after their visitation.
IT'S A 90 MINUTE DRIVE. ON A SUNDAY NIGHT. IN THE DARK.
The police picked the kids up on a road as they walked. Children's services is involved again.
Sarah has toed the line until now. She has obeyed the court's wishes to the letter.
She has sent her children back to their father for the very last time.
Her words to me today chilled me to the bone: "What more has to happen? Does he have to kill them?"
I'm so terrified for them. For her. Because I'm afraid that is exactly what he will do, and I don't know if it will be an accident from drinking, or something else - but he doesn't care about those
kids in the least. All he wants is to hurt her.
Let's hope this final straw will be the kick in the ass Children's Services needs to finally say no more to the Ex.
Postscript: He got access back. No, I don't understand why.
Monday, December 01, 2008
Quarterlife
Posted by Anonymous.
I'm 25 now.
It took me a little while to type that sentence. There's this distaste that enters my mouth whenever I write it or say it. I feel like that it should be the start of a longer sentence: "I'm 25 now, and I dally in Europe with my girlfriends." "I'm 25 now, and I own a home." "I'm 25 now, I have a wonderful partner, and we're discussing marriage." "I'm 25 now, and I know what I'm supposed to be doing with the rest of myself."
The fact is that the sentence is what it is. I'm 25 now. I don't dally in Europe with my girlfriends. I don't own a home. I don't have a wonderful partner, and I don't know what I'm supposed to be doing with the rest of my life.
Some have said that I am going through my quarterlife crisis. Logically, I know that it applies to me and that this is partly true, but being the one living the quarterlife crisis is different. I've always been the one in my family who has known what they were going to do. I'm the academic one -- that's the label given me by my family. I'm not the pretty sister, or the edgy sister or the hippie sister. Those never belonged to me, and I never aspired to those labels. I have always known what I was going to do with the rest of my life -- I knew what path I was going to walk. My family and friends knew me as a decisive person where my schooling and career was concerned. I didn't need a partner or dates because "you're so, so smart."
I landed an entry level job in my competitive industry of choice right out of college. I got a promotion to my dream position not long afterwards. And I thought that this was all I needed -- this job that challenged me and took up so much of my time. And then I turned 25. I got depressed, almost mournful. Nothing satisfied me. I felt restless and purposeless for first time since my freshman year of college. I realized that I got depressed when my job went into it's "slow period" for the year. I didn't realize that I had invested myself so heavily in my position until this bleak onset that came on suddenly. I've scared myself... I figure it's because I didn't have it there to keep me occupied.
So I'm doing little things to change me. I'm looking to buy a one-bedroom condo -- something small and economical where I can entertain. I'm supportive of my best friend, who now has less time for me since she recently found a partner. I'm trying not to work so much. I'm trying to date. I've looked into grad schools. I don't want to be "invincible" again, but I'm frustrated feeling this way. I'm going to go my doctor to discuss what's going on with me. I don't think this is depression, but I don't know, quite frankly. I'm tired of 25.
I just hope that 26 gives me back my sense of purpose. But if it doesn't, what will I do?
I'm 25 now.
It took me a little while to type that sentence. There's this distaste that enters my mouth whenever I write it or say it. I feel like that it should be the start of a longer sentence: "I'm 25 now, and I dally in Europe with my girlfriends." "I'm 25 now, and I own a home." "I'm 25 now, I have a wonderful partner, and we're discussing marriage." "I'm 25 now, and I know what I'm supposed to be doing with the rest of myself."
The fact is that the sentence is what it is. I'm 25 now. I don't dally in Europe with my girlfriends. I don't own a home. I don't have a wonderful partner, and I don't know what I'm supposed to be doing with the rest of my life.
Some have said that I am going through my quarterlife crisis. Logically, I know that it applies to me and that this is partly true, but being the one living the quarterlife crisis is different. I've always been the one in my family who has known what they were going to do. I'm the academic one -- that's the label given me by my family. I'm not the pretty sister, or the edgy sister or the hippie sister. Those never belonged to me, and I never aspired to those labels. I have always known what I was going to do with the rest of my life -- I knew what path I was going to walk. My family and friends knew me as a decisive person where my schooling and career was concerned. I didn't need a partner or dates because "you're so, so smart."
I landed an entry level job in my competitive industry of choice right out of college. I got a promotion to my dream position not long afterwards. And I thought that this was all I needed -- this job that challenged me and took up so much of my time. And then I turned 25. I got depressed, almost mournful. Nothing satisfied me. I felt restless and purposeless for first time since my freshman year of college. I realized that I got depressed when my job went into it's "slow period" for the year. I didn't realize that I had invested myself so heavily in my position until this bleak onset that came on suddenly. I've scared myself... I figure it's because I didn't have it there to keep me occupied.
So I'm doing little things to change me. I'm looking to buy a one-bedroom condo -- something small and economical where I can entertain. I'm supportive of my best friend, who now has less time for me since she recently found a partner. I'm trying not to work so much. I'm trying to date. I've looked into grad schools. I don't want to be "invincible" again, but I'm frustrated feeling this way. I'm going to go my doctor to discuss what's going on with me. I don't think this is depression, but I don't know, quite frankly. I'm tired of 25.
I just hope that 26 gives me back my sense of purpose. But if it doesn't, what will I do?
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Dear Ex-Friend
Posted by Anonymous
A letter to my crazy, husband seducing, whore of an EX-best friend
I have always known you were crazy. I just thought it was in an endearing, I love you despite the fact that you kind of suck most of the time sort of way. We have been friends since 10th grade and we have been through just about everything together. I want you to know that our friendship endured because I allowed it to endure. Over the years people have asked me how I could forgive you for things. Like when you bailed out on being in my wedding just because you didn't like the dresses I picked out. I mean HELLO SELFISHNESS it was like MY freaking wedding!
Yeah, how about when you got mad at me because I put my daughter in Montessori preschool a couple of days a week. And then again when we signed her up for morning ESP at her school last year because I had a newborn at home. Newsflash! You are NOT the world's perfect mother. Oh and when you gave your 3 month old baby boy chicken broth in his bottle I DID think it was weird. I just believe that parents should keep their mouths shut if they don't agree with someone else's parenting technique.
I always defended you and made excuses for your bitch tendencies. I loved you even though you didn't bring your kids to my daughters birthday party ( 3 years in a row) and didn't even bother to call. I loved you even when you were about to cheat on your husband the first time. I told you that you were going to ruin your marriage and that you would regret it. I helped you to make the right decision and I supported you when 3 years later you yet AGAIN wanted out of your marriage. I tried to be a good friend. I never judged you, I just persevered and loved you despite the fact that you are hard to like.
I am not the only one of our girlfriends that feels that it is hard to be friends with you. You never make it easy. You criticize when you should gently be truthful, you are selfish and you are ignorant about the world around you. You are either in a great mood and you love everyone or you don't answer your phone for days and then act all bitchy when you finally come out of hiding. I really do think you have a mental disorder. I am no expert....but I have known you a very long time. If I had to guess I would say you are Bipolar. Now...don't misunderstand me. I have struggled with anxiety and depression myself, and I am empathetic to anyone who has problems such as these.
HOWEVER! I don't think it is an excuse to use your time with me as a reason to be around my husband. I guess hindsight really is 20/20. We were like family and now it is over. I thought of you as a sister and that is why I put up with your shit for as long as I did. Now I realize that I should have put you in your place years ago. I guess I was a little crazy myself. You do have your good qualities. I am just hard pressed to think about those now that you chose to come after my husband. You guys used to hate each other!
Even now it is hard for me to believe that it happened. I guess I just never thought that you would be able to hurt me this way. You knew that the next week was my aunt's murderer's trial. You knew that I was struggling with being in the same room as her killer and seeing pictures of the crime scene. You knew that we were going back to marriage counseling. You knew I had already made the appointment. You knew where the weaknesses were in every area of my marriage. You knew his vulnerabilities. I gave you a bloody road map on how to appeal to him.
I want to know....what were you thinking? You said that you weren't thinking about me. You said that you were only thinking about yourself and what you needed. I say that is impossible. You came to MY house right before you went to his gig! You came to bring me a cute little rug for in front of my sink! What was that? An "I pity you because I am about to go fuck your husband gift"?! I mean seriously! How could you come to my house and look me in the eye and get into your minivan and drive to his gig!!!!?
Now YOU are begging your husband to stay? I tried to help you to see that your marriage could be saved. But now I am afraid that you have gone too far. And I am a little ashamed to say that I am having a hard time feeling sorry for you. You had so many chances. I counseled you. I read you scriptures and I prayed for you and your marriage. I tried to be supportive and non judgmental.
I was an awesome friend to you. How could you make my life so much harder? You knew what he and I had been through. You knew our story and that our road had been a difficult one. Why would you choose to make it harder?
Guess what? I am still here. I am still taking care of my family. I still have faith in God. I believe that I am still sane because I have chosen to seek God in all areas of my life. This letter has helped me to realize that I still have bitterness to work on. I still have some forgiving to do. But I know that I will be ok. No matter what happens in my life, I know that I will be ok because of Jesus Christ who strengthens me. I suggest you run to God as well. He will forgive you if you ask Him to. Maybe something good can come of all of this destruction. If He can forgive you....so can I. I know you will never read this...but I didn't write it for you. I feel better already. I can feel the peace and contentment setting in already.
Don't even get me started on my husband's role in all of this. That is another post for another day.
A letter to my crazy, husband seducing, whore of an EX-best friend
I have always known you were crazy. I just thought it was in an endearing, I love you despite the fact that you kind of suck most of the time sort of way. We have been friends since 10th grade and we have been through just about everything together. I want you to know that our friendship endured because I allowed it to endure. Over the years people have asked me how I could forgive you for things. Like when you bailed out on being in my wedding just because you didn't like the dresses I picked out. I mean HELLO SELFISHNESS it was like MY freaking wedding!
Yeah, how about when you got mad at me because I put my daughter in Montessori preschool a couple of days a week. And then again when we signed her up for morning ESP at her school last year because I had a newborn at home. Newsflash! You are NOT the world's perfect mother. Oh and when you gave your 3 month old baby boy chicken broth in his bottle I DID think it was weird. I just believe that parents should keep their mouths shut if they don't agree with someone else's parenting technique.
I always defended you and made excuses for your bitch tendencies. I loved you even though you didn't bring your kids to my daughters birthday party ( 3 years in a row) and didn't even bother to call. I loved you even when you were about to cheat on your husband the first time. I told you that you were going to ruin your marriage and that you would regret it. I helped you to make the right decision and I supported you when 3 years later you yet AGAIN wanted out of your marriage. I tried to be a good friend. I never judged you, I just persevered and loved you despite the fact that you are hard to like.
I am not the only one of our girlfriends that feels that it is hard to be friends with you. You never make it easy. You criticize when you should gently be truthful, you are selfish and you are ignorant about the world around you. You are either in a great mood and you love everyone or you don't answer your phone for days and then act all bitchy when you finally come out of hiding. I really do think you have a mental disorder. I am no expert....but I have known you a very long time. If I had to guess I would say you are Bipolar. Now...don't misunderstand me. I have struggled with anxiety and depression myself, and I am empathetic to anyone who has problems such as these.
HOWEVER! I don't think it is an excuse to use your time with me as a reason to be around my husband. I guess hindsight really is 20/20. We were like family and now it is over. I thought of you as a sister and that is why I put up with your shit for as long as I did. Now I realize that I should have put you in your place years ago. I guess I was a little crazy myself. You do have your good qualities. I am just hard pressed to think about those now that you chose to come after my husband. You guys used to hate each other!
Even now it is hard for me to believe that it happened. I guess I just never thought that you would be able to hurt me this way. You knew that the next week was my aunt's murderer's trial. You knew that I was struggling with being in the same room as her killer and seeing pictures of the crime scene. You knew that we were going back to marriage counseling. You knew I had already made the appointment. You knew where the weaknesses were in every area of my marriage. You knew his vulnerabilities. I gave you a bloody road map on how to appeal to him.
I want to know....what were you thinking? You said that you weren't thinking about me. You said that you were only thinking about yourself and what you needed. I say that is impossible. You came to MY house right before you went to his gig! You came to bring me a cute little rug for in front of my sink! What was that? An "I pity you because I am about to go fuck your husband gift"?! I mean seriously! How could you come to my house and look me in the eye and get into your minivan and drive to his gig!!!!?
Now YOU are begging your husband to stay? I tried to help you to see that your marriage could be saved. But now I am afraid that you have gone too far. And I am a little ashamed to say that I am having a hard time feeling sorry for you. You had so many chances. I counseled you. I read you scriptures and I prayed for you and your marriage. I tried to be supportive and non judgmental.
I was an awesome friend to you. How could you make my life so much harder? You knew what he and I had been through. You knew our story and that our road had been a difficult one. Why would you choose to make it harder?
Guess what? I am still here. I am still taking care of my family. I still have faith in God. I believe that I am still sane because I have chosen to seek God in all areas of my life. This letter has helped me to realize that I still have bitterness to work on. I still have some forgiving to do. But I know that I will be ok. No matter what happens in my life, I know that I will be ok because of Jesus Christ who strengthens me. I suggest you run to God as well. He will forgive you if you ask Him to. Maybe something good can come of all of this destruction. If He can forgive you....so can I. I know you will never read this...but I didn't write it for you. I feel better already. I can feel the peace and contentment setting in already.
Don't even get me started on my husband's role in all of this. That is another post for another day.
Monday, November 24, 2008
Suffocating
Posted by Anonymous.
I went to seek drugs, because I need them desperately. They said, “you are exhibiting drug-seeking behavior. We will give you nothing.” Well, Sherlock... My aunt has the same illness I do, and has been sending me Xanax in the mail. I ran out, and I don’t want to ask her for any more. It makes me feel dirty and exploitive. So now I just scream into my sweater for hours.
I hate everything about college. I hate New York, I hate my classes, I hate the idea of transferring again. I don’t even want to be a writer anymore. It was all so fluid before; I only wrote when I had something to say. Now I have to write constantly, all the time, about things that I don’t care about, and it’s all crap, which makes me feel bad about myself, so then I go spend all of my money on alcohol and cab fare. I miss Colorado so much it makes my skin burn to think about it. All of my friends here are so glamorous; and they think that I am too, but really, I’m not. I read books and listen to decent music and know how to dress myself coherently. If that’s all it takes to be glamorous, than people should stop spending so much time reading up on it in Vogue. I will never be glamorous for real, because I am never going to be calm when I meet a famous person. I've become good at pretending, but the whole time I was talking to John Mayer I wanted to throw up. Also, John Mayer is an asshole. They are all assholes. Nobody here is normal. They get vodka companies to sponsor their birthday parties and then rent out some venue and fill it with people they don't know. I am constantly surrounded on all sides by strangers, and they have their faces pressed against mine in the photos the next day. Fuck you. I don't even know your last name, or what makes you laugh. You seem to be laughing always, with your head thrown back like someone punched you in the spine. Nothing is funny. Don't worry, everyone is looking. Being suffocated by people is the most frustrating way to be alone.
I was crying uncontrollably the other day, and M. said, “You just have to not do that.” Right. Because that’s how bipolar disorder works; you just stop. God, why didn’t I think of that? M. has allergies that are so severe she has to carry around an epi pen with her, and I wanted to say, “The next time someone accidentally feeds you a tomato, you should just not swell like that. Seriously, just stop.” But that would be terrible and mean, so I didn’t.
It’s lucky that I only live on the third floor of my building, because if I lived high enough that I’d for sure die on impact, I’d totally jump off of my fire escape.
I went to seek drugs, because I need them desperately. They said, “you are exhibiting drug-seeking behavior. We will give you nothing.” Well, Sherlock... My aunt has the same illness I do, and has been sending me Xanax in the mail. I ran out, and I don’t want to ask her for any more. It makes me feel dirty and exploitive. So now I just scream into my sweater for hours.
I hate everything about college. I hate New York, I hate my classes, I hate the idea of transferring again. I don’t even want to be a writer anymore. It was all so fluid before; I only wrote when I had something to say. Now I have to write constantly, all the time, about things that I don’t care about, and it’s all crap, which makes me feel bad about myself, so then I go spend all of my money on alcohol and cab fare. I miss Colorado so much it makes my skin burn to think about it. All of my friends here are so glamorous; and they think that I am too, but really, I’m not. I read books and listen to decent music and know how to dress myself coherently. If that’s all it takes to be glamorous, than people should stop spending so much time reading up on it in Vogue. I will never be glamorous for real, because I am never going to be calm when I meet a famous person. I've become good at pretending, but the whole time I was talking to John Mayer I wanted to throw up. Also, John Mayer is an asshole. They are all assholes. Nobody here is normal. They get vodka companies to sponsor their birthday parties and then rent out some venue and fill it with people they don't know. I am constantly surrounded on all sides by strangers, and they have their faces pressed against mine in the photos the next day. Fuck you. I don't even know your last name, or what makes you laugh. You seem to be laughing always, with your head thrown back like someone punched you in the spine. Nothing is funny. Don't worry, everyone is looking. Being suffocated by people is the most frustrating way to be alone.
I was crying uncontrollably the other day, and M. said, “You just have to not do that.” Right. Because that’s how bipolar disorder works; you just stop. God, why didn’t I think of that? M. has allergies that are so severe she has to carry around an epi pen with her, and I wanted to say, “The next time someone accidentally feeds you a tomato, you should just not swell like that. Seriously, just stop.” But that would be terrible and mean, so I didn’t.
It’s lucky that I only live on the third floor of my building, because if I lived high enough that I’d for sure die on impact, I’d totally jump off of my fire escape.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Not Welcome
Posted by Anonymous.
I live in an elitist town.
What does this mean? It means I will never measure up. I will never be good enough to be in the "hip mom" circle.
Most of the time, I'm okay with that. I know I'm educated and my child(ren?) will grow up to hopefully be educated, caring people.
I don't care that I'm not the most fashionable mom at the park. I spend my money on things that bring pleasure to me, like books and photography equipment.
But sometimes, it really hurts.
Like tonight.
I went to an open house for a new toy lending library. I was hoping to get some business exposure (I have a home party business selling toys) since I figured that anyone willing to shell out $100 a year to borrow a few toys would be willing to buy some of these good quality educational toys.
Everyone at the open house was wearing a cute little dress and looked like they had just come from having high tea. I was wearing a decent shirt (no baby snot) and casual pants.
I tried to smile and act like it didn't matter that no one was talking to me.
The "owner" introduced herself and I was able to talk to her for a few minutes about our business possibilities since we had spoken on the phone.
Then one of the "committee" members came up and was introduced. And proceeded to monopolize me right out of the conversation by speaking only to the owner and facing her. Hello, I can read that body language a mile away. It says, "you're not welcome here".
I was so hoping to break into this circle for my business, but I guess I'd have to be "one of them" to do that. And that's not going to happen while I slouch around in my flip-flops, taking pictures of everything and not caring that I have dirt on my butt.
I live in an elitist town.
What does this mean? It means I will never measure up. I will never be good enough to be in the "hip mom" circle.
Most of the time, I'm okay with that. I know I'm educated and my child(ren?) will grow up to hopefully be educated, caring people.
I don't care that I'm not the most fashionable mom at the park. I spend my money on things that bring pleasure to me, like books and photography equipment.
But sometimes, it really hurts.
Like tonight.
I went to an open house for a new toy lending library. I was hoping to get some business exposure (I have a home party business selling toys) since I figured that anyone willing to shell out $100 a year to borrow a few toys would be willing to buy some of these good quality educational toys.
Everyone at the open house was wearing a cute little dress and looked like they had just come from having high tea. I was wearing a decent shirt (no baby snot) and casual pants.
I tried to smile and act like it didn't matter that no one was talking to me.
The "owner" introduced herself and I was able to talk to her for a few minutes about our business possibilities since we had spoken on the phone.
Then one of the "committee" members came up and was introduced. And proceeded to monopolize me right out of the conversation by speaking only to the owner and facing her. Hello, I can read that body language a mile away. It says, "you're not welcome here".
I was so hoping to break into this circle for my business, but I guess I'd have to be "one of them" to do that. And that's not going to happen while I slouch around in my flip-flops, taking pictures of everything and not caring that I have dirt on my butt.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Give Me Some Credit
Posted by Anonymous.
I continually fight with myself to not flip out on my friends or family members when it comes to taking care of a child. I have taken care of children since I was six *with parental supervision of course* and I went to a babysitting course, and got my first aid to give immediate care if needed, I've babysat nearly 30 different children from newborn to 12. YET for some freaking reason when asked for my advice on some matter, they never seem to actually listen, do whatever was said, or even go as far as giving me the credit. I can't take it anymore and I can't believe how they treat me just because I personally don't have a child.
DO NOT sit there and say I don't know what I'm talking about.. I DO, I do know what you're going through. JUST because I am just a babysitter and NOT a mother does NOT mean I don't know what you're going through or that I don't know what I'm doing. I have to know what I'm doing, or OBVIOUSLY I wouldn't be a babysitter, and I wouldn't have all this trust from all these parents.
You have no problem asking me to babysit, do you? NO, because you ask me whenever you can. So don't sit there and ignore what information i have to offer WHEN YOU ASK FOR IT,
just because of the sheer fact that I'm not a mother. And if I'm babysitting your child from 7am to 6pm in my home and I tell you I've been telling your child not to touch something like a cord or a dvd, DO NOT sit there and let them play with them! Especially when you're living in MY HOUSE.
And HOW DARE YOU say I don't know what you're going through when I'm the one
spending everyday 4-5 days a week with them. That's MORE than what you did and you're his mother. HE LEARNED TO SPEAK FROM ME! HE LEARNED TO CRAWL FROM ME! and he started to learn to walk from, yeah you guessed it... ME! ME! ME! So to all those people who say I don't know shit.. FUCK... YOU.
I continually fight with myself to not flip out on my friends or family members when it comes to taking care of a child. I have taken care of children since I was six *with parental supervision of course* and I went to a babysitting course, and got my first aid to give immediate care if needed, I've babysat nearly 30 different children from newborn to 12. YET for some freaking reason when asked for my advice on some matter, they never seem to actually listen, do whatever was said, or even go as far as giving me the credit. I can't take it anymore and I can't believe how they treat me just because I personally don't have a child.
DO NOT sit there and say I don't know what I'm talking about.. I DO, I do know what you're going through. JUST because I am just a babysitter and NOT a mother does NOT mean I don't know what you're going through or that I don't know what I'm doing. I have to know what I'm doing, or OBVIOUSLY I wouldn't be a babysitter, and I wouldn't have all this trust from all these parents.
You have no problem asking me to babysit, do you? NO, because you ask me whenever you can. So don't sit there and ignore what information i have to offer WHEN YOU ASK FOR IT,
just because of the sheer fact that I'm not a mother. And if I'm babysitting your child from 7am to 6pm in my home and I tell you I've been telling your child not to touch something like a cord or a dvd, DO NOT sit there and let them play with them! Especially when you're living in MY HOUSE.
And HOW DARE YOU say I don't know what you're going through when I'm the one
spending everyday 4-5 days a week with them. That's MORE than what you did and you're his mother. HE LEARNED TO SPEAK FROM ME! HE LEARNED TO CRAWL FROM ME! and he started to learn to walk from, yeah you guessed it... ME! ME! ME! So to all those people who say I don't know shit.. FUCK... YOU.
Saturday, November 15, 2008
Should Have Listened
Posted by Anonymous.
I should have listened to my sister.
She told me to never get involved with a man with small children.
But of course.. me thinking I know everything... didn't listen.
Well, I got into this relationship with a man that I love dearly.
We won't EVEN talk about his ex wife who needs a good slap upside that ugly head of hers...
Anyway...
It's the constant spending of money. The wasting of money that kills me. Maybe because I have very little money of my own and very little to provide for my own nearly grown children that I see it as so wasteful. Whatever they want? They get it. Even if they don't ask for it? Or want it? He buys it. I have literally seen hundreds of dollars being spent on nothing. and everything. It makes me sick to my stomach.
I really don't feel it is jealousy on my part. I just see it as so wasteful and so damaging to the children.
I finally told him that I feel that he is really doing his kids a disservice..that NO ONE is going to be able to please them when they are adults. They will never be happy because no one will be able to provide for them like this.
They are spoiled rotten little children who feel that they "deserve" so much...
They are disrespectful and it sucks.
I can't say too much as I am just a "girlfriend"...and no one wants to hear someone else say something about their parenting.. so I am stuck.
P.S. I do not proclaim to be a perfect parent by any means. I am sure I have made my fair share of mistakes, too.
I should have listened to my sister.
She told me to never get involved with a man with small children.
But of course.. me thinking I know everything... didn't listen.
Well, I got into this relationship with a man that I love dearly.
We won't EVEN talk about his ex wife who needs a good slap upside that ugly head of hers...
Anyway...
It's the constant spending of money. The wasting of money that kills me. Maybe because I have very little money of my own and very little to provide for my own nearly grown children that I see it as so wasteful. Whatever they want? They get it. Even if they don't ask for it? Or want it? He buys it. I have literally seen hundreds of dollars being spent on nothing. and everything. It makes me sick to my stomach.
I really don't feel it is jealousy on my part. I just see it as so wasteful and so damaging to the children.
I finally told him that I feel that he is really doing his kids a disservice..that NO ONE is going to be able to please them when they are adults. They will never be happy because no one will be able to provide for them like this.
They are spoiled rotten little children who feel that they "deserve" so much...
They are disrespectful and it sucks.
I can't say too much as I am just a "girlfriend"...and no one wants to hear someone else say something about their parenting.. so I am stuck.
P.S. I do not proclaim to be a perfect parent by any means. I am sure I have made my fair share of mistakes, too.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Busted
Posted by Anonymous.
You are so busted. You are so busted you don't even know it. When we said if you fessed up to your drug use, we would rally 'round the family with a pocket full of shells. We promised, I had all the funds ready to go for therapy, counseling, whatever financial help I could supply. All you had to do was tell the truth. We had the goods, we had everyone else telling what we already assumed. You failed. You said, I won't do anything-you just have to believe me. I have my life under control-I don't touch that stuff anymore.
She told us the breaking play by play. The coke use, when, with who. And the fact that your own sister was your dealer for it? Not so surprised. And you all would not be so surprised to know that I WAS the one who called Child Protective Services on her and that craptacular family. I didn't just do it because young kids live in that house, where prescription drugs are misused and pot is smoked and cocaine is snorted. I do believe their young and stupid mom can protect them to some degree. I did it to get your sister back for feeding you your poison. I did it as a silent message telling her to stop! You can't start up with that stuff again. YOU just CAN'T.
It shook all of us. Everyone was so mad at Sister and me. They thought we just dropped communication to be assholes. They thought 'we abandoned our mother when she needed us'. They didn't even know the half of it. And they didn't call to get our side, they just listened to yours. The druggies side. Who does that? But you did what every junkie does, you manipulate and feed the story to suite your needs. To get your desired effect. And you succeeded. They thought the worst. And you let them. Knowing all along what you had done. You were so deep in your own lie, you believed it yourself. You couldn't let them know, while they were hand feeding you, taking care of you, paying your bills, giving you shelter in their homes that you were out doing drugs with their money. I don't know I would risk that free ride either.
Weeks went by, months, you were assumed not to be in attendance at Sister's wedding. That was your penalty for not coming clean. For refusing the drug test. Which just answered our question. I know, I know....your new job had you do one. But we explained the piss test wasn't good enough. We needed the follicle. We needed to see just what you had been up. Your bipolar was in rare form. And you know it is almost impossible to get that shit under control when you are using. But you know hoe to tell when a junkie is lieing? Their lips are moving.
Sister threw you a bone. But you forgot that one of your girls learned your power of manipulation. I played you. I promised whatever you told sister I would never know. But I never told Sister that. She knew the ramifications of me knowing you used again. That shit freaks me out. I can't even watch drug use in movies. But, just like I knew would happen-Sister called right after you hung up....and she said you came clean. You told her you had used. You were scared to tell the truth because we would be mad. We wouldn't trust you. Now, now we all have to make nice. Play fair. And act like nothing ever happened. Like a good little picture of perfection family does. Meanwhile, in all those posed and unposed pictures by the wedding photographer charging a King's Ransom, we will all smile our composed smiles. We will laugh and cry at the wedding. We will dance and drink. But all the while, I will know. You sold your daughters down the fucking river to save your own pathetic ass. You let us take the fall, you let them think the worst of us-all the while you know what you had done and what a drug test would show. You let us down, you let YOUR OWN CHILDREN TAKE THE FALL for YOU. Do you hear how fucked up that is?
You are so busted. You are so busted you don't even know it. When we said if you fessed up to your drug use, we would rally 'round the family with a pocket full of shells. We promised, I had all the funds ready to go for therapy, counseling, whatever financial help I could supply. All you had to do was tell the truth. We had the goods, we had everyone else telling what we already assumed. You failed. You said, I won't do anything-you just have to believe me. I have my life under control-I don't touch that stuff anymore.
She told us the breaking play by play. The coke use, when, with who. And the fact that your own sister was your dealer for it? Not so surprised. And you all would not be so surprised to know that I WAS the one who called Child Protective Services on her and that craptacular family. I didn't just do it because young kids live in that house, where prescription drugs are misused and pot is smoked and cocaine is snorted. I do believe their young and stupid mom can protect them to some degree. I did it to get your sister back for feeding you your poison. I did it as a silent message telling her to stop! You can't start up with that stuff again. YOU just CAN'T.
It shook all of us. Everyone was so mad at Sister and me. They thought we just dropped communication to be assholes. They thought 'we abandoned our mother when she needed us'. They didn't even know the half of it. And they didn't call to get our side, they just listened to yours. The druggies side. Who does that? But you did what every junkie does, you manipulate and feed the story to suite your needs. To get your desired effect. And you succeeded. They thought the worst. And you let them. Knowing all along what you had done. You were so deep in your own lie, you believed it yourself. You couldn't let them know, while they were hand feeding you, taking care of you, paying your bills, giving you shelter in their homes that you were out doing drugs with their money. I don't know I would risk that free ride either.
Weeks went by, months, you were assumed not to be in attendance at Sister's wedding. That was your penalty for not coming clean. For refusing the drug test. Which just answered our question. I know, I know....your new job had you do one. But we explained the piss test wasn't good enough. We needed the follicle. We needed to see just what you had been up. Your bipolar was in rare form. And you know it is almost impossible to get that shit under control when you are using. But you know hoe to tell when a junkie is lieing? Their lips are moving.
Sister threw you a bone. But you forgot that one of your girls learned your power of manipulation. I played you. I promised whatever you told sister I would never know. But I never told Sister that. She knew the ramifications of me knowing you used again. That shit freaks me out. I can't even watch drug use in movies. But, just like I knew would happen-Sister called right after you hung up....and she said you came clean. You told her you had used. You were scared to tell the truth because we would be mad. We wouldn't trust you. Now, now we all have to make nice. Play fair. And act like nothing ever happened. Like a good little picture of perfection family does. Meanwhile, in all those posed and unposed pictures by the wedding photographer charging a King's Ransom, we will all smile our composed smiles. We will laugh and cry at the wedding. We will dance and drink. But all the while, I will know. You sold your daughters down the fucking river to save your own pathetic ass. You let us take the fall, you let them think the worst of us-all the while you know what you had done and what a drug test would show. You let us down, you let YOUR OWN CHILDREN TAKE THE FALL for YOU. Do you hear how fucked up that is?
Monday, November 10, 2008
The Fender Bender In The Corner
Posted by Maggie, Dammit.
When I got the call at 2am that my brother was crouched broken and drunk in his garage with a loaded gun pressed to his temple, my first thoughts were of you. Where the hell were you? How did you manage to sleep through these precious wretched hours while your husband was imploding? Why did he turn to his friends, these friends who called me at 2am, instead of to you, his wife? But I murdered those thoughts as quickly as they came because there just wasn't time. I had to keep both of you alive, I had to figure out what to do, I had to weigh the images in my mind of him shooting himself, of him shooting you, of the police shooting him, and decide which one I could live with. I had to make decisions from the deserted island of my living room floor, and I failed. I froze, and I failed, and though someone else stepped in and saved us all, the business of hating myself was enough to keep me busy and distracted for the next few months and so I did not think about you at all.
That was this summer, a lifetime ago, and the changes I've seen in him are nothing short of miraculous. He has quit drinking. He willingly takes his medication. The boy who would speak to no one now confides weekly in a therapist, and the boy who could not read until high school writes for hours in stacks of weathered notebooks. He seems so steady now he's almost unrecognizable to me, a likable stranger I plan to get to know if I can just baby-step through this trail of broken trust and old pain but, you? You are leaving him.
You're not just leaving him, you're slipping responsibility like a cocktail dress from your angular frame. You are pouring wine in front of him, you are poking at fresh wounds. You and your crazy family are searching for new problems, new mysterious ailments he must possess, and blaming his non-cooperation in his own witch-hunt as proof he doesn't want this marriage. It makes me question everything I have ever known about you, everything you have ever said.
When my brother was a train-wreck nobody noticed you, the fender bender in the corner. Now he is mending and you can't handle it, your own scratches and dings and decades-old mold coming to light. And it's not just the distraction from your own brand of crazy, it's something more, something sinister, and I don't think you mean it and I don't think you see it but it's there, and it's real, and it's this: It's like you need him to be sick, like it's feeding something in you. Without it, you starve.
I have waited 30 years to know my brother. You can leave him if you want to, I'm staying right here by his side.
When I got the call at 2am that my brother was crouched broken and drunk in his garage with a loaded gun pressed to his temple, my first thoughts were of you. Where the hell were you? How did you manage to sleep through these precious wretched hours while your husband was imploding? Why did he turn to his friends, these friends who called me at 2am, instead of to you, his wife? But I murdered those thoughts as quickly as they came because there just wasn't time. I had to keep both of you alive, I had to figure out what to do, I had to weigh the images in my mind of him shooting himself, of him shooting you, of the police shooting him, and decide which one I could live with. I had to make decisions from the deserted island of my living room floor, and I failed. I froze, and I failed, and though someone else stepped in and saved us all, the business of hating myself was enough to keep me busy and distracted for the next few months and so I did not think about you at all.
That was this summer, a lifetime ago, and the changes I've seen in him are nothing short of miraculous. He has quit drinking. He willingly takes his medication. The boy who would speak to no one now confides weekly in a therapist, and the boy who could not read until high school writes for hours in stacks of weathered notebooks. He seems so steady now he's almost unrecognizable to me, a likable stranger I plan to get to know if I can just baby-step through this trail of broken trust and old pain but, you? You are leaving him.
You're not just leaving him, you're slipping responsibility like a cocktail dress from your angular frame. You are pouring wine in front of him, you are poking at fresh wounds. You and your crazy family are searching for new problems, new mysterious ailments he must possess, and blaming his non-cooperation in his own witch-hunt as proof he doesn't want this marriage. It makes me question everything I have ever known about you, everything you have ever said.
When my brother was a train-wreck nobody noticed you, the fender bender in the corner. Now he is mending and you can't handle it, your own scratches and dings and decades-old mold coming to light. And it's not just the distraction from your own brand of crazy, it's something more, something sinister, and I don't think you mean it and I don't think you see it but it's there, and it's real, and it's this: It's like you need him to be sick, like it's feeding something in you. Without it, you starve.
I have waited 30 years to know my brother. You can leave him if you want to, I'm staying right here by his side.
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