Friday, March 4, 2011

Answer To a Question

Some have asked me why me Twitter name is @gypsy_momma .

The answer isn't because I think of myself as a person who rivals Esmeralda, contrary to popular belief.

Its really quite a bit more simple than that.

I moved. a LOT. While pregnant with my son, up until about the time he was 3, I moved well over 20 times, across 5 states (I think just 5).

The insane amount of moving started the evening I got the positive pregnancy test. It was a previously planned move, from Arkansas to Indiana, for my ex's job.

Upon entering Indiana we moved another half dozen times from trashy hotel to mini-apartment-like hotel suites, until we finally found an apartment that would work for us...

Two months after Mikeal was born the job transferred us again (namely because my ex was drinking too much to fulfill his contract properly, and his boss was trying to cover his own ass with having a drunk asshole driving kids 13-15 years old around neighborhoods.) So we found ourselves back in Arkansas.

Less than two months later my ex was charged with kidnapping, indecent exposure, and attempting to rape a 5 year old, who lived in Missouri, just across the state line from us. He went to jail for a few weeks, I moved in with my momma in Oklahoma.

My ex was released after his dad paid his bail money, we moved into a house down the road from my mom. (At this point I was completely clueless as to the truth behind his arrest.)

A few months later he re-contracted with a different guy, in the same door-to-door sales line of work, we moved to Tulsa.

My ex started feeling paranoid due to the multiple 'visits' from law enforcement to our home, mainly brought on by our neighbors calling the cops for domestic disturbances. I tried to move back in with my mom, but she wouldn't have it, same story with my aunts and uncles, as well as everyone else I knew...I became 'stuck' - 21, only a high school education, not a dime to MY name, an abusive drunk for a husband, and a 1 year old baby.

We ended up moving again into his adoptive father's camper (his adoptive father who happens to be the police Lieutenant) for a few weeks...and then I found out the whole truth behind the charges against my ex. His lawyer was so kind to play back the 'confession' tape to my ex and my ex thought it'd be perfectly fine if I was standing in there while it was being played.

In September the final trial date was set, Mikeal was 13 months old, and we'd again moved into an apartment that I was to keep up with for him to move into when he was done with his sentence... I'd already formulated and perfected a plan of a different sort. I'm a great actress...at least great enough that EVERYONE believed me when I said I'd be there for that lying, abusive, drunk, baby raping, fetus killing, sorriest excuse for a human being I've EVER known.

Sept 22 he was sentenced to...wait for it...make sure there's nothing terribly breakable nearby...swallow whatever it is you're drinking or eating...Make sure you are completely ready to read this...you're still not ready...4 months. Yes, you did not read that incorrectly. The bastard who ADMITTED to intending rape this 5 year old child, who ADMITTED to leading this unattended child from the stoop of her apartment to a laundry room, and ADMITTED to exposing himself to her, was only given 4 months in a PSYCHIATRIC treatment facility for DRUG ADDICTION. He was also given 4 years of probation. My dad on the other hand? was only simply accused of sexual misconduct against a minor, there was no proof, and the accuser's story changes as often as I buy underwear, was given 30 years in a maximum security prison, not a few months prior to this. I put my plan into action.

My ex had given me a list of 'rules' to follow while he was incarcerated. Rules included things like: pay both of his vehicle payments, I wasn't allowed to start smoking (I was a non-smoker at that time), I wasn't allowed to go out with friends, I was to keep a phone line turned on so he could call collect, and I was to accept any and all charges and be available anytime he called, I wasn't to fall behind on any bills, blah blah blah blah blah...I don't remember them all, but he was kind enough to send them to me in a letter a few days later...and you better believe it when I say I made DAMNED sure I broke EVERY last one of them before he was released. By the time he got out 4 months later I'd started reinventing myself. I moved so that he couldn't find me.

Of course his family made my life an absolute living hell after they found out that I wasn't going to grant him 'permission' to come and live with me, and he couldn't go live with any of them because they each had felony convictions, except for the adoptive father, who was also a foster parent, therefore unable to accept him as well. I couldn't tell you how many times I moved around that city (Tulsa, OK) or how many different jobs I'd lost because of them...it got to the point that I found myself on the street with an 18 month old.

Thankfully my sister was willing to let Mikeal come stay with her, not me though...I'd obviously screwed up along the line to find myself homeless, therefore that's what I deserved...yea, my family is a bit screwed in the head, but whatever. A co-worker and his roommate let me sleep at their place while I worked to get back on my feet, it wasn't a safe place for Mikeal, (HORRID neighborhood) so I did what I could, working as many hours as possible, at three different jobs. I spent my spare time in a chatroom.

Due to the AWESOME people I'd met in said chatroom I ended up moving to Austin, TX...the frequency of my moves slowed, I started to stabilize, and Mikeal was with me. I met Brian through that chatroom as well.

As anyone could tell you who has had to start over from scratch it's not always smooth...I did move a few more times, once back to Oklahoma for a year to get my divorce finalized, then back to Texas for another year, until I had problems with my pregnancy and we made the move back to Oklahoma to be closer to my mom & family... We were there for three years, and now we're in Tennessee, closer to Brian's family because Oklahoma is the quicksand pit of the country, we had to get out while the getting was good. We've been so INCREDIBLY blessed by making this move and I have absolutely no plans of packing up again, for a REALLY long time.

The great thing about moving so much in the past is I went from 'having' to use a large moving truck for everything, to just a few suitcases...now I think we're up to about three large moving trucks of 'stuff'...but it's just that - stuff. I've gone without all of this, I'm not afraid of going without it again.

So that's the long story. The short story is that I gained the nickname "Gypsy" because I can pack up, move, and 'disappear' at a moments notice.

2 comments:

  1. Wow. That is a very tough story.

    We say "gypsy blood" in my family for the same reasons of moving at a moment's notice as well. But, ours was more, I was 1 years old in Poland and in the middle of the night we fled across the border with nothing to Austria, stayed for a year, came to the US, lived in the city for a couple years, and moved to the suburbs, and now I'm several states away.

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  2. oh wow! I can't imagine what it must have been like for your parents! It's one thing to move across a few states - not much is really all that different, but fleeing to other countries, then halfway around the world! I'd imagine it was quite the cultural overhaul, then to add in the reasons for their fleeing in the first place, with infants & toddlers even!! I hope that by moving and such their lives became more peaceful and that you have each had greater peace!

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