The Things I Carry

Cold metals have left their marks,

The smooth thin lines,

Barely recognizable as the years have passed;

Prove that I am capable of surviving. 

Laid there in fits of drunken anger

The blood, hot against the cold steel,

portrayed my marriage perfectly.

Four of them adorn my body,

each one followed by a promise

of sobriety,

of change,

of transformation.

At the time I believed he would

be the one to perform these actions.

Vile from my heart would fall out,

sounding like gentle roses upon his ears;

promises that I would love him,

be true to him,

and stand by him.

With each instance that I had to reaffirm

these promises to him

my resolve to find a way to escape solidified.

I changed from a young girl

wishing to be blissfully married

to a mother of a young child.

I transformed myself

from a scared mother

to a strong,

independent,

single mother.

Fresher marks now adorn my body.

Creases around my mouth and eyes

prove that I have learned to laugh again,

to smile without end.

Other new metals now wrap my finger;

the combination of metals and stones

affirm to me that I am now safe,

loved,

cherished.

The cool metals now warm my heart and soul.

The scars across my abdomen,

numb to the touch

attest that I have birthed two healthy children.

Their laughter and giggles fill my head

and overflow my heart on a daily basis.

My body carries permanent reminders

of a life I once lived

as well as markers of a life I live now.

I sobered up to the idea of what love,

faithfulness,

and marriage was about.

The scars I carry with me

serve as a reminder to a life once lived;

a warning to others of a life that shouldn’t be theirs;

a prayer that intelligence overrides passion.

....Mostly written as part of my Literature writing assignment in response to "The Things They Carried" by Tim O'Brien, but wish to keep it & share it here.

Tweet

Warning: This is long.

This blog post is going to most likely be fairly jumbled and confusing and annoying and I can't promise that I won't swear during it. In fact, one can almost put money on the fact there is going to be swearing. Sadly I don't have words strong enough to express my complete disgust and irritation and pissed-offness that has prompted this post...I'm not even terribly sure such words even exist, so I'll see what I can do to create one or two.

So anyways...you may want to grab a piece of paper and create your own timeline and see if you can make any sort of sense of it all with me.

I was pulled over for speeding on Saturday. Legitimately speeding...I was irritated at an idiot driver, sped up to avoid a collision, didn't pay attention 1/2 a mile down the road that I was well over the speed limit, until it was a hair too late. Not the biggest big deal....I'd thought. Annoying & upsetting, for sure, but I was in the wrong and I'm a big girl who wears her big girl panties, I know when I'm in the wrong and can accept the consequences of my actions. It sucks, but it is what it is...

Onto the "I'd thought" part...I was informed that my license has been revoked.

WHAT THE BLOODY HELL!

This is where you're going to need your thinking cap and a pen and piece of paper.

I have not been pulled over since October of 2005. Not for ANYTHING. It is currently August of 2011. So that's almost SIX years without a single moving violation of any sort.

I had originally lost my license in June of 2001. I was 19 years old. Got drunk for the first time in my life. While in the process of getting very drunk I was assaulted by a couple of guys, I left the party in a hurry, walked 3 blocks to where my car was. Unlocked my car, from the passenger side because my driver's door lock mechanism was broke, and it wasn't a fancy enough car for button unlocky thingys. After unlocking the car I hit the power unlock button, shut the door, walked around, and discovered I did not unlock my car...in fact I'd hit lock instead. The awesome part about that is I'd thrown my purse & keys into my car prior to shutting the door. So there I was, at 4am, drunk, for the first time ever, upset over being assaulted, and now my keys are locked in my car and I have no clue if I was still being followed or not - so was freaking out. I start wailing on my car windows with my pretty strappy heeled shoes when a cop rolls through the parking lot and asks me if everything was alright. I gave him the story about locking my keys in my car...left out the part about the assault, etc because I was upset in that moment about my car..and I was drunk. Drunk people are NOT rational, AT ALL. At least I'm not when I'm drunk. Woulda, Shoulda, Coulda, but didn't...yea... Anyways...the cop gets out of his car, looks in the window & sees my keys & purse laying right there, pulls out a slim jim from the trunk of his car & unlocks my car for me. I AM FUCKING DRUNK AND 19, PEOPLE! THERE IS SOMETHING SERIOUSLY WRONG WITH THIS! I get in my car and drive off. Two blocks down the road Mr. Nice Cop pulls me over, asks me if I've been drinking, because he said I was driving with my bright lights on, through town. Do understand at this point my bright lights did not even work on that car, a fuse had gone out or the switch had, can't remember now...but I was drunk & had only had the used car for almost a week, and I am not rational when drunk. Of course I admit to having been drinking, etc...he calls my grandma to come pick me up & take me to her house, I was to stay in her care for at least 10 hours to sober up. Oh, and my breathalizer test showed that I blew a .095, which at the time was just .005 below the legal limit...the next month the new law went into effect that the legal limit was only 0.08. Anyways, several court hearings later I convince the judge that I'm not going to pay a lawyer $1500 in addition to my fines & such, she accepts my guilty verdict and life went on.

I was also a very stupid 19 year old. VERY FUCKING STUPID 19 year old! I LOVED to race cars back then, especially on the highway...yea, add those tickets in on a suspended license. So I racked up some points on my own. By the time I was 6 months past my 19th birthday I was newly married to my ex-husband AND newly pregnant AND getting ready to move 600 miles away AND this was all during that period of time that my folks both ended up in jail over my sister's lies AND the rest of my family thought I was being petty and selfish for not bending over backwards to take in my 17 year old sister and 14 year old brother to finish raising. I was FUCKING 19 years old! If my almost 40 year old parents couldn't keep a handle on their 17 year old child what in God's green earth makes anyone think I can? But whatever...I was pregnant, married, and moving far away...most of my biological family thinks I'm utterly selfish and in need of serious psychological help (although my psychiatrist thinks I just need to talk to someone more often than just once every few months).

Ok...so some time goes by, I work to pay off/down all my fines, yada yada...life went on. My ex & I moved back to Arkansas about a year after moving away, my dad was sentenced to 30 years, my mom got out of jail, my sister was living with her now husband, and my baby brother was back with mom...My license was still suspended - thanks to my racing on a suspended license I'd lost my license until I was 21. Not quite the biggest of deals since my ex never allowed me to do much of anything anyways without him, so whatever. The times I did have to drive I was careful enough to not get caught nor in a wreck, so whatever, what's done is done.

Then it got a bit dicey.

In December of 2002, just 4 months after Mikeal was born and 6 months before my 21st birthday, my ex was arrested. He was charged with attempting to sexually assault a 5 year old little girl...and I won't go into all the details of that right now because I don't need to REALLY make my blood boil more than it is already, but it ended with him being thrown in jail for a while, in Missouri...we were still living in Arkansas, he'd crossed state lines to do this... I ended up needing to move back in with my mom, in Oklahoma. A month later my ex's adopted father bailed him out, yada yada, I was convinced at that time that he'd just been urinating & she walked in on him...I wasn't a terribly bright 20 year old either, but I was in a dark depression then, physically & emotionally exhausted from the abuse, etc. My family (aunts, uncles, cousins) of course wouldn't believe my husband would ever do such things I accused him of, I was just making things up for attention and I needed serious psychological help still for wanting to leave this great man that my ex was and whom I had a child with.

What's really fucked up is my mom witnessed firsthand the abuse of my exhusband...he'd come in, drunk & cranked out, one night & hit the wall of the bedroom where Mikeal & I were sleeping because I was asleep....that resulted in a fist fight between my mom, my brothers, and my ex husband. The oldest of my brothers, who was there because he'd broken his back a few months before and was finally at the end of his recovery...and living at mom's during this time period with his (ex) girlfriend and their oldest child (who was 6 months old at the time)...was the first to jump up and respond violently towards my ex for having DARED to even act like he was raising his hand at me! Then mom got involved because not only did he act like a threat towards me but he then was involved in a first fight with another of her children...and my mom is NOT a force to be reckoned with. My ex ended up with a bloody nose & some scars. Mom had a bloody toe. Daniel ended up thrown/falling off the deck and had a concussion. I was on the phone with the cops. I WAS DONE! I was so far past done with having anything at all to do with my ex that I was just D.O.N.E. - DONE! The cop showed, put my ex in the back of his car, then came to talk to us. He thought it'd be best to just not provoke him and let him sleep off his drunk. WTF! Daniel agreed not to press charges since he'd just finished his own stint in prison not but a few months before that and wouldn't wish it on anyone...Mom then left it up to me to press charges, since he was my husband. I said yes. Then was talked out of it by either my mom or the cop, the rest of that night is a bit fuzzy to me, I just remember ANGER and disbelief. Here I am, with a not even 6 month old crying child, abused for over a year by this man, my mom is bleeding, my brother is puking & convulsing, and no one wants to press charges, in fact I think it even got turned around on me that I'd somehow provoked this violent rage.

Mom kicked us out and we ended up moving 100 miles deeper into Oklahoma, into a camper, at my ex-adopted father-in-law's house (Charlie). I felt slightly safer about being there because Charlie was not only a long time foster father to teenage boys but he was also the newly retired police Lieutenant. Fuck was I wrong. Anyone that ever wonders why a woman stays in an abusive relationship...this is the exact reason why. They're shunned by family members or made out to look like they're the ones in the utter wrong...that they'd somehow provoked the abuser into being abusive...because to everyone else they're the greatest piece of shit to ever grace the Earth with their presence. I was finally 21 but because of everything we never did finish paying off my fines and I was never taken to get my license reinstated.

In September of 2003, Mikeal was only 13 months old, my ex was given a four MONTH sentence with four years PROBATION for attempting to rape this 5 year old. His lawyer had been able to get him a plea bargain where it was reduced to just indecent exposure. And people really wonder why sex offenders run the streets. You can look for yourself even...Here's the national sex offender registry listings. My ex's name is Bryan Gilliam..you'll have to agree to the terms of use & then enter a captcha to search his name, but he's there. Last known address = moved out of state, to Arkansas...and that's all they know, as of about 2 years ago. Maybe he's in Arkansas. I suspect he's working under the table for his old boss, who lives in Missouri, but has contracts all over the country, selling newspaper subscriptions with a crew of young teenagers, door to door...somewhere.

But the most important thing about him going to jail is I was finally free of him. I did not take his family, nor their influence, into consideration. In October, less than a month after he was sentenced & booked, I wrote him a letter telling him that I was leaving him, I wanted a divorce, and that there was no way in any sort of Hell that I would ever take him back.

Within a week I started getting pulled over on my way too and from work. I had a toddler to take care of and couldn't do it if I just sat at home because my license wasn't reinstated yet. I spent a great many days in and out of that courthouse, sometimes my name was found on the docket other times it was like the ticket I was holding was something I'd dreamed up...On December 22nd my neighbor had gone with Mikeal and myself to Arkansas to take care of some of my license stuff...a good 3 hour drive, one way. We stopped at a nice place to eat, my neighbor got smashingly drunk, even though she was supposed to be driving me there and back because I wasn't able to get my license totally reinstated that day afterall. But my lovely neighbor was also kind enough to cause the waitress to spill a pitcher of beer on me.

I drove for 3 hours..it's nearly 2am when we finally get into the home stretch of the trip. Less than 3 miles from my apartment I was pulled over. I was charged with a DUI. Damnest thing about that is despite the fact I REEKED of beer I was sober...and the breathalyzer test proved that I was sober. I blew a 0.00. But because I REEKED and because this was my ex's hometown, where I was the horrible evil wife who was leaving her husband while he sat in a jail 500 miles away, they booked me anyways. Told me that I was somehow cheating the test. Now, if you remember back to the beginning, I'm a big girl and I know how to wear my panties...I'm not above accepting consequences for my actual actions. I was put in jail anyways. I did get to make a phone call to a buddy of mine, told him what was up, he agreed to call a few other folks and they'd have my bailed out within the next day or two, in time at least for Christmas morning with my 15 month old son. On the 1st of January (10 days later) at 2:45am I was released from the jail. Who in their bloody right mind puts a 21 year old girl out, on the most dangerous night/morning of the year to either a) find someone sober to come to the jail and pick her up at that horrendous hour or b) walk the 10 miles home at this house, along the highway. It was also freaking cold, snowy, I had a sleeveless shirt on, that I'd been wearing for 10 days already, and no coat. I walked those miles home and thankfully made it there alive. I never did see the judge...she was out on vacation I was told. When I did finally get home I called my buddy who'd told me he was going to bail me out...he told me he was told that I was being released the next morning and when he showed up the next morning to see if I needed a ride he was told that I was already gone. The 50 some odd voicemail messages on my machine over those 10 days I was locked away basically confirmed his story.

I was continuously harassed though. First by the cops, then by my neighbor lady, then by my landlady (who's son was best friends with my ex while they were in high school), then over time learned the rest of my ex-in-laws were also set to make my life absolute hell while I lived near them. I lost job after job because of them, I sank into a darker depression, I lost vehicles, my family were under the impression that I'd brought this all on myself. I started drinking HEAVILY. I will admit now that I'm utterly shocked that I did not get arrested a few times for ACTUALLY being drunk while driving, but by then the harassment had slowed from law enforcement, since it'd picked up with everyone else..and Charlie also passed away around this time. Coincidence? Yea, you can judge that one for yourself.

In February I had a 3 week work conference to attend in Austin, Texas. Of course I made arrangements with my mom, my sister, and a few friends of mine to watch Mikeal for me while I was down there because I wasn't going to be reimbursed for the $10 an hour childcare during any seminars, etc I had to attend on a daily basis. I went down there, a week into it my baby brother was thrown off the back of a car (car surfing in the high school parking lot, less than 20mph) ended up in ICU for a week. No one was willing/able to get Mikeal, so I had to make an emergency dash to Joplin, MO, from Austin, TX, in less than 24hrs round trip. I'd made some awesome friends during my time there who were more than willing to accommodate Mikeal & myself during the duration of my conference. Mikeal ended up with coffee burns at the hospital while I was en route. A nurse had left her scalding cup of coffee at the edge of the counter & what does any 18 month old child do when they want a drink & see a cup? They grab it. Burnt the right half of his face & his neck - 2nd & 3rd degree burns. Mostly just 2nd degree. He wasn't hospitalized for it, they treated him and he was back to mostly normal Mikeal by the time I got there. I didn't do anything about it at the time because I was on a tight schedule, my mom was already distraught over Duke still not being awake, and it was just not the time to get into it.

Over the course of the next week Mikeal's neck started showing signs of severe infection, my conferences all wrapped up, and we went back to Oklahoma...I didn't have the funds to pay for the out of network charges if I was to take him to a hospital there in Texas. We get back to our apartment only to find that my landlady had removed all of my appliances...said that the appliances were only on loan to me because a previous tennant had left them there when she'd moved out and had come to get them...umm, they were sitting there in her garage. But whatever, I was just done. Completely utterly distraught and just done. Packed up what I could, put the rest into a storage unit and left. I went to visit my mom to spend a night there or so and help her out with Duke who'd just been released from the hospital. Later that evening Mikeal started running a fever, I took him to the ER (weekend, small town, only thing available). Found out that the burn blisters on his neck were infected with MRSA and to make the trip even more fun I'd been bitten by a brown recluse as I was packing everything in my apartment and that was a nasty site as well. I wasn't allowed to leave his bedside because they were short staffed and didn't have someone available to keep an eye on him and make sure he didn't fall out of his bed. During the initial first week there at the hospital I only left the actual hospital room three times to go smoke. Yes I smoked then. I also quit then. Not even my mom would come up and sit with him/us and she just lived 10 miles down the road more than once or twice...she was too busy with her new boyfriend. My car was stolen from the hospital parking lot, with a lot of my stuff thrown out into the ditch by the parking lot. I don't know, no explanation, car was never found, or no one gave enough of a fuck to find it, whatever...

After Mikeal was released from the care of the hospital and we spent a week at my mom's for more IV antibiotics my boss in Tulsa paid for me to stay in a place there in Tulsa. A few months into that I moved to Austin, TX. I couldn't stand the constant harassment anymore. Lots of shit happened, the harassment never did fully cease, but I was far enough away from it that I was able to feel safe living again. Eventually though I had to move back to Oklahoma to get my divorce taken care of 100% as well as take care of my other legal stuff...namely all the harassment tickets I'd accumulated and said FUCK IT to.

During my quest to get everything taken care of I spent time in and out of jail because of warrants that had accumulated...sometimes being 'forgotten' resulting in not seeing the judge even for the first time for weeks. One judge, whom I didn't see until after I'd been sitting in that jail for 29 days chewed out the jailer that had brought me up there. She'd had several previous traffic courts and I should have been before her during the first one after I was booked. Other tickets that I KNEW I had been given during that time just seemed to 'disappear' when I'd go to take care of them...only to show back up in the system some time later...I really wish I would have been better about keeping records of everything then. I did learn from all of that though. I keep EVERYTHING. All utility payment receipts, all court papers, all pay stubs, all tax forms, all my calendars where I right things down during the year. ALL of it. I can't afford not to anymore...not after all the hell I went through then.

I not only was harassed incessently but one of my ex-sister-in-laws, who was constantly in trouble with the law, started using my information when she'd get pulled over, arrested, etc. At one point in time *I* was booked on meth charges and had a felony charge against me for it - I'd found that out during my first trip to this particular county jail - I had to then prove that I was who I said I was, complete with fingerprint cards that dated from the time I was in Kindergarten. (My record was cleaned of MANY things at that time, but not until after I'd paid a lawyer almost $10,000 to hunt down everything to be able to do so.) There were car loans, repossessions, house loans & foreclosures, credit cards, utility bills, checking accounts, I don't know but it amounted to almost $700,000 of debt on my credit report. If you're new reading my blog I'm surprise you're still reading, but I'll let you know now I have NEVER had a credit card, etc...the ONLY thing I have EVER bought on credit was a kitchen stove a few years ago from a Rent to Own place and that was mainly just because it was an emergency and we expected to be able to find a decent working one quick enough to not have to pay on the 'new' one for too long...such isn't the case, we've since moved, and now that stove sits in my basement collecting dust, since about a month after I paid it off. I LOATHE interest payments. Loans are the biggest waste of money a person can ever come across!

Anyways...It took me a while and several tens of thousands of dollars but I got nearly all of it taken care of. Once in a while something will pop up, but the number has slowed DRASTICALLY! Do keep in mind that this was all around 2003-5 so things like identity theft were still 'newish' and when you're a single mom just trying to raise your child, while going through a horrid divorce and being harassed not only by your ex-in-laws but also by law enforcement that's supposed to be on the side of right and truth it's all QUITE overwhelming and the only thing you want to do is just move on with your life so you can breath for a moment...and that screwed my ass. I got to where instead of just fighting and fighting and paying lawyers I'd just pay things off, hang my head, plea no contest, and let it be. I was so screwed, I felt, anyways, and alone in fighting all of it and trying to support Mikeal I just wanted to be done with it.

I ran off a few times for a while. I was pretty good at not getting caught...my last ticket/run-in was in 2005.

In September of 2008 I was involved in an accident, a teenager saw the light was green, but didn't take notice of the fact that I had just barely taken my foot off the brake, because I had been stopped at the JUST previously red light. At that time I still had a few outstanding tickets etc to take care of but the judge told me, when I showed up for my court hearing for not having a license, after the wreck, that if I got everything taken care of and showed him a new reinstated license he'd drop the charges against me. My next court date was November 22nd...I had everything 100% taken care of, by just paying it all off and retaking my driver's test, etc by my court date. I had my new shiny Driver's license in hand on November 15th or so.

I've not been pulled over since. At least not until Saturday, as previously mentioned.

I've ran out of steam on writing this blog post...and if you're still reading, I'm shocked. But the end result is I still am fighting crap that I was ASSURED was taken care of, by court officials, 3 years ago. I have all the paperwork to prove I've paid everything. When my insurance agency ran my license, when we got insurance here, 18 months ago it came back clean...or at least nothing of the last 3 years. Then they do another check every 6 months. Our insurance just renewed in May. So as of May, as in three months ago, my license was still good by insurance company records. Here it is August, I've not been to Oklahoma in 18 months, and Oklahoma has revoked my license.

Fuck me running with a splintered bat anally. I'm TIRED of this BULLSHIT!

Tweet

Depression

...sucks.

That's really all I have to say, but I'll likely ramble anyways about whatever escapes from my fingers onto this post by use of the keyboard.

In no particular order:

I miss my dad. He's been dead now for just over four years, but I've not gotten to hang out with him in 10. Sure we talked on the phone a few times & wrote a few letters back and forth, but it wasn't the same. See, my dad spent the last 6 years of his life sitting behind bars. He was given a 30 year sentence for a crime I don't believe he committed. Of course the argument stands that if he didn't commit it then he wouldn't have been given a 30 year sentence, not in this day & age...yea, our judicial system is so upright where innocent folks aren't locked away & the guilty are that - guilty. I mean, just look at the whole Casey Anthony or O.J. Simpson things, right?

I rest my case.

I've tried really hard over the last 10 years to wrap my brain around it to the point that it's so wrapped I think it's just warped instead. I really don't want to believe either side. If I take my dad's side of things and defend him, well, I've lost a great deal of close relationships because I did take his side. If I take his accuser's side then I am compelled to be completely disgusted with my father, but also betray what my heart & mind tells me. The most fucked up part of all that is I may not be quite so conflicted about it had some folks not been so adamant that my dad was completely innocent...until my grandparents both died. It was almost immediately upon their deaths that all these folks, who'd supported my dad, bailed on him, trash talked him, and to this day paint him as the worst kind of scum to walk the planet. Of course his accuser went from just a spoiled little brat trying to get what she wanted to the patron saint of all that's right but wrong in the world, a poor innocent victim. Fuck her.

I miss the children that I birthed that were born with barely a fighting chance at life. Dear Alonna was a victim of doctors not putting all the pieces together & me being so utterly depressed I barely made it through the last half of my senior year of high school. Her father, my first husband, was killed in a car wreck days after we'd gotten married. During our short marriage, because I was a FIRM "virgin until marriage" person, I conceived her. Between severe depression, ulcers, stress, school, work, family life, God only knows what all ailed me at that time, doctors had me on a nice little cocktail of medications to treat each and every ailment. No heed was paid to the notion I could have been pregnant. Hell, I didn't even think anything of it. I still had bleeding from time to time, I didn't pay that close attention to timing and all that because I wasn't having sex...had only had sex twice, and it was in wedlock. Teenage pregnancy doesn't happen except out of wedlock, right? OH, YES, I was a naive one back then. She was born in December...in fact she, Mikaila & my Grandpa all share the same birthday, December 13th. My pregnancy wasn't confirmed until after I'd fallen down a flight of stairs just a few weeks before. The fall down the stairs wasn't detrimental to her, even though I'd like to blame something so innocent on the loss of her life. No. She was born with very underdeveloped organs or holes in the organs that did develop due to all the different medications I had been on during the majority of my pregnancy. I was given the option to have a late-term abortion, but I wouldn't hear of it! What kind of fucking moron suggests such a thing to an 18 year old gal who's not only lost her husband & best friend since preschool, but is now finding out she's PREGNANT and VERY near her due date, just mere weeks after her parents told her to "Get your dog, your computer, don't forget your hamster & the rest of your shit & get lost?!" Simply because she wasn't paying enough of the bills anymore because she was trying to move out into her own place... Then of course I had her, without the first drop of pain medication, because I was scared out of my fucking gourd after learning about all the medications I had been on for the previous 9+ months. I still, to this day, have issues with taking medications & hesitate going down stairs... I PLEADED with the doctors & nursing staff to pull a miracle out of their asses. I don't blame them. They tried. For 14 hours they worked to sustain her. Reflecting on it 11 years later now, pieces of me wish I would have saved them each that grief. It's not the loss of Alonna that haunts me so much as the looks on the doctors' and nurses' faces as they not only tried to console me but also make my miracle come true. Thing that haunts me further is the stigma that "we don't talk about that".

Then there was Bridgett. I got pregnant with her almost immediately after Mikeal was born. Ok, not completely immediately, but I'd gotten my first depo shot after he was born, then my ex husband was thrown in jail for attempting to rape a 5 year old...I was given a lame story about how this little girl had walked in on him while he was peeing in a laundry room and it was just some messed up misunderstanding & all he was guilty of, from the early stories I was told, was indecent exposure. I did what any scared, almost 21 year old girl who's been horribly abused by her husband & no one there to support her, except him, with a 4 month old...I believed him & by my upbringing I stood by him. During the early hoopla of all that I missed my appointment to get my next depo shot, was pregnant when I finally did get a chance to make-up that appointment. I hid that pregnancy for as long as I could during the court proceedings. On our anniversary, in June, I was 23 wks along I shared the news with my ex. He responded by beating the shit out of me & throwing a 27" TV at me...back before they were just 10lb pieces of plastic. Then he left to go smoke some meth with his cousins down the road. ((My naive ass didn't know a thing about any of that until well after the fact.)) I carried my 10 month old son & drug my bleeding ass to a neighbor's house, where the lights were on...it was only about 2am...and they called an ambulance for me. All I really remember was about 24 hours later I was being released from the hospital & that my baby girl had died. I did file a police report. All that got me was a rap for being a troublemaker & liar by the police department. Afterall, the Lieutenant's adopted son would NEVER do such a thing! I made the whole thing up!

I'm proud of the fact that I went to the meeting with his lawyer not long after that...I heard the confession tape for myself & learned the whole truth behind the charges. He'd picked a 5 year old girl up from an apartment complex, took her into a laundry room there, & considered having sex with her before some of the effects of the meth & alcohol he was on wore off just enough for him to let her go. I then spent the next few weeks charming my ex. I'd swear up and down how I'd be there for him & I'd never screw him over, yada yada yada yada yada. He was given a 4 MONTH sentence with only 4 years probation. On September 22nd he was booked on the charges...I left from the courthouse, with his ATM & credit cards in hand, & wiped those suckers clean, including the overdraft privileges. I sold what clothes of his that were left over from my brothers picking through them, I didn't make the first one of his vehicle payments, then I broke every fucking rule that bastard had laid upon me of what I wasn't allowed to do while he was incarcerated. I'd then write him letters telling him about how I started smoking, was going out to the bars, sleeping with whatever I felt like, doing whatever I liked. That $900 wedding ring set he'd bought me & still had a nice balance on - sold them for $175...then had a GRAND time at the bar....at least I think it was grand. I woke up in the bed of the truck, somewhere. ((Mikeal was safe at a babysitter's, who knew/understood/something to that effect my mental state of mind at that time.))

A few months later, on Mother's Day, I called Child Services on myself. I was in a desperate state of mind and was under the impression that they'd at least help me. I was suffering from alcohol addiction, was basically homeless, and well...it was bad. Know what child services did for me? Nada. Told me that because I had the presence of mind to call them that it meant that I was a good mother and could figure it out & didn't see Mikeal as being in any real danger. I BEGGED and PLEADED with them to PLEASE place him in a safe home & to help me get into a treatment program. They didn't. The next day I left Mikeal in the care of my 'less than fit roommate'...while he was passed out drunk (not Mikeal, the roommate) and got a job a few blocks away, working graveyard shift at Waffle House. Thankfully I had some awesome coworkers that let Mikeal & I move into their one bedroom apartment...then instead of going out to the bars I joined a chatroom.

I met a TON of very wonderful folks in that chatroom, and minus a few details, I moved from Tulsa, Oklahoma to Austin, TX, to move into a house with a complete stranger. Folks down there would drive an hour one direction to help me get out and look for a job, others would watch Mikeal for me, one guy gave me a car...I met Brian during all of that...yada yada...I sobered up, mostly, and my mother grew up a bit. I went back and lived with her for a while so I could get my divorce taken care of 100%, then moved back to Texas, eventually reconnected with Brian again, he proposed at my dad's funeral dinner, we went back home, in Texas, pregnant, yada yada...we've been married almost 4 years now with a Mikaila added to our family.

My ex is still a complete asshole.

My current marriage, like any other, has it low points, but overall it's awesome. I love where I live now, I love my friends, & tolerate most of my family, but I'm completely in admiration of my children and husband! But yet I still feel depressed. The logical side of me says I have no reason to be depressed. There's nothing I can do about the death of these loved ones, I know that having another child isn't going to replace any of the ones I've lost. I can't pinpoint a reason behind my depression. I'm mostly 'at peace' with the trauma my past inflicted upon me, but then every once in a while it just completely blindsides me and throws me for a complete loop and I don't even know what to think. The littlest thing can set it off and big things won't even phase me. I constantly feel like I'm swimming in a black hole that is devoid of everything, but yet I can see that I'm surrounded by all these folks that I know love & care about me and I just feel empty, withdrawn, and sad. But mostly angry.

The anger bothers me the most.

I'm absolutely justified to feel the anger. I can't think of many folks who wouldn't blame me for completely lashing out at some folks who have caused this anger. But at the same time I'm better than that. I feel guilty for having this anger. I want to just let go of the anger but I can't. I can for short periods. Most of the time I don't even notice it lingering. I don't want to be angry. I don't like feeling this way. This in turn makes me not like myself. And the cycle starts again. I've done decent, in my mind, with coping with it. I've gotten better. Stronger. But it's still there, haunting me. I know it's effected persons around me, I try to keep it hidden, to keep it a secret...because it's just not one of those things we talk about... I don't even know how to talk about it. I don't know how to fix it. Sure I can repress it and pretend it doesn't exist...for a while. But I'm not comfortable with that and that fuels my anger, just in more directions.

I don't know what to do at this point. I'm not even sure I even know what I WANT to do. I just know that my head isn't always healthy & it may never be fully healthy...but I also don't want to go through the rest of my life with this anger hoovering over me.

This grown-up shit is hard.


~*~Then of course I'm searching for info that I need, again, for my assignment, that was erased by Windows' need to fucking update without warning and restart without allowing me to save any work I'd worked SOO fucking hard on...and I run across this blog post. I needed it. I'm going to start working on setting the tone to my own happiness & fulfillment...by starting on #3, especially.~*~

Tweet

It Started as just a Comment...

I started to write a comment on A Daddy Blog's blog post about Disney Princesses & the messages conveyed by the Princesses of the various stories. I highly recommend reading the post before reading too far into this post of mine, simply because my post may not make a great deal of sense otherwise. *maybe* I could be wrong, but he wrote a great post, so either way you should still check it out, as well as the comments posted.

*~*Disclaimer: I've been drinking tonight, a lot. My mind is in rambling mode...or my drunk fingers are, I can't tell.*~*

I agree with your sentiment posted, Michael, as well as the points highlighted by the previous commentors.

Both my ex husband & my current husband can be likened to 'The Beast" and myself to Belle - strong willed, intelligent gal, of Beauty & the Beast...the difference is with my ex-husband I thought I could change him over to being a prince charming when he was nothing more than a beast at the core, even still - abusive, controlling, manipulative, you name it...except he was quite the charmer to everyone else, but me, after I was 'sucked in'. Current husband, where he wasn't abusive he did take quite a bit of time & patience to learn what honest love was & that he was worthy of being loved, despite not being 'perfect' by others' standards.

I agree we can't shelter our children from the negative influences...my parents tried, with everything...and from personal experiences, it doesn't matter how well we're taught by our parents, peers, etc we're still going to make some pretty stupid mistakes along the way...its how we learn from those mistakes & grow from said mistakes that shapes us into adults. Some young folks will never experience things like peer pressure to try things like drugs, or wind up in an abusive relationship, etc the list is miles long...I never expected to wind up in any such situation because I was smart, I knew better, I was intelligent, had a straight upbringing, etc...I didn't have the first ounce of street smarts though & that was a hard road to walk after I moved out as a single woman at 18. Then another hard road as a single mom with a toddler before I was 22.

My opinion is - to teach the good, the bad, & the ugly and how to avoid/react to each...then be there for them when/if they fall. That was where I got snared in-my folks weren't there to help me out of a dark situation because they'd taught me better, I went against what I was taught, I had to find my own way out of my own mess. I got the same story from the church I had been attending, other family members, and a random multitude of persons I'd basically grown up with as role models for me. My life was FULL of ideal positive role models. I think I knew MAYBE five whole people who even smoked cigarettes - my grandpa quit when I was 10, he's 78 now, still as feisty as ever, my stepgrandpa smoked what seemed like a carton of cigarettes a day, until the day he died, at 84 years old, from 'old age', and my PaPa smoked until he died 3 days before his 70th birthday - his death was attributed more to just a broken heart from losing my Granny less than a year before after they'd been married almost 50 years. She died of a combination of stress, diabetes complications, and a weak heart, never smoked a day in her life...my Papa was an over the road truck driver & smoked outside, she was barely exposed to any secondhand smoke.

Anyways, my point is - I didn't grow up around alcoholics, those that did have a drinking problem had quit their addictions years before I was old enough to even know they'd drank, ever. I don't think a single person I grew up around ever did any illegal drugs - I wasn't exposed to potheads, meth addicts, coke or heroin junkies...I seriously grew up thinking such things only occurred in bigger cities, like Los Angeles, New York City, & Miami. Of course, now, as an almost 29 year old adult I know better.

I've been exposed to a number of different substances, even ones that I'd never even heard of in my drug awareness classes. I know the street slang for 90% of it too. It is really scary to me to think of what I knew when I moved out of my parents' home, at 18, compared to what I learned within the first 3 years of being out of their home. By the time I turned 19 I was hooked on drinking & smoking pot - to EXTREMES. I sobered up for a while when I found out I was pregnant & then breast feeding, but within two months of leaving my ex, stopping breastfeeding, etc when Mikeal was 13 months old I was back into that party scene....I was also 21, so no longer had to sneak around or fake IDs in order to get into bars and the like. A few months before I turned 22 I found myself homeless with an 18 month old because no one was willing to help me get out of this bad rut I'd found myself in - between the depression, the lack of self-esteem, the complete worthlessness I felt I turned harder towards the "party" lifestyle.

I became the gal that everyone liked, everyone 'trusted', and I was subsequently exposed to more and more substances - I was the go to gal, if anyone ran out of anything I knew who to contact to get more...of course because I didn't do anything more than smoke a bit of weed once in a while and drink like a fish out of water I was a great pack horse to transport *whatever*. Ironically one of my 'contact' persons to get stuff from was/is the lead prosecuting attorney of the city, she guided me as to how to go about getting by with not getting caught, how to get out of having my vehicle searched if I ever was pulled over, the like.

On Mother's Day, right after my 22nd birthday, Mikeal wasn't but 21 months old, I called Child Protective Services on myself. I wanted help, I needed help, I needed motivation or something to get out of this lifestyle I'd gotten myself into. I love Mikeal more than life itself-it was my love for him that prompted me to make that phone call. I PLEADED with the social workers. I BEGGED them to help me, and if they couldn't help me then to at least take Mikeal away from me so he wouldn't be exposed to it all anymore. I was a disgusting excuse of a mother, where my opinion is concerned, frankly that's the only opinion that matters.

Imagine my shock and horror when I was told that because I asked for the help, etc that they saw no reason to intervene and take Mikeal from me. Apparently because I wasn't denying the fact that I was a fairly shitty excuse of a mother and I wanted to protect Mikeal, that he wasn't in any immediate danger, but the living situation was quite dire, (no food, no running water, living with a meth head, & 3 alcoholic adults) then they didn't see the need to take him or do anything at all about my case. They gave me a list of addresses of places I could go to get help, etc during the week. Later that evening, I called again, this time though I told them that I was on the brink of just ending both our lives so that we'd no longer be a burden on society - that worked.

I had to fucking threaten to kill my own child and myself before anyone even glanced in my direction. Two social workers & a police officer came out. In person I told them my first story, of needing Mikeal to be put in a safe home, where he'd be taken care of properly, and I needed help to get my life straightened out. After what seemed like an eternity of pleading they took Mikeal to a group home...the next day they took him to my ex-mother-in-law because she'd seen this as an opportunity to milk the system even further. I wasn't given any restrictions to Mikeal, I was told to get my life straightened out and at any time that I decided I wanted him back to just go get him and bring him back home to myself. And was left at that. It didn't seem to matter that I was needing to turn my alcohol system back into a blood system, or that I was in a dark mental place, etc. I did land myself a fair job, working graveyard shifts at the Waffle House that was within walking distance & then later I got a job at the Denny's just down the road too. I didn't have a vehicle. I tried meth during this time during a particularly horrible week where I was ready to really end it all - it didn't work, I saw no effect from smoking, snorting, or just eating the stuff...and I did a LOT of it that week. The 'professionals' were shocked that I didn't seem to be effected by it. I was over it nearly as soon as I'd started it.

I moved into a slightly better roommate situation - there was at least running water & the power wasn't constantly being turned off. Oh, and they had internet. I turned my 'need' to go out to get drunk into a chatroom obsession. I sobered up because of that chatroom - it was full of great folks, in Texas...I was in Oklahoma, an 8hr drive from the majority of the folks I'd chatted with, including Brian.

By the end of July I was nearly over my obsession to drink & go out, I was also making a fair income, and had someone nearby who was clean & sober & willing to watch Mikeal for me. That's when more problems started. My ex-mother-in-law decided that she didn't want to give Mikeal over to me...after all during those two months the state put her in a housing unit where she only had to pay $25 a month in rent, $25 a month in utilities, got almost $300 a month in food stamps, was awarded her disability for her fake back injury that she'd been working on getting for a while and had been denied several times, her life was GREAT! There was no way in any sort of fucking hell she'd part with her cash cow! She could lock him in a closet and run around all she wanted now. Heck, she even used him to help her in her shoplifting schemes - schemes where she could walk into ANY store empty handed and walk out with a few hundred dollars in cash & merchandise that she'd later sell on the streets.

I digress. After I learned that the ex-hag wasn't going to give me my son back without a fight that I didn't have a leg to stand on to fight one of my dear friends (I've known them all for now almost 8 years) worked a plan with me. He offered to let me live in his house, site unseen, for a few weeks, until I was able to get on my feet there in Austin....I just simply had to get down there with Mikeal. I worked my tail off to make more money...of course the more I earned the more often it seemed that my roommates expected me to pay towards rent, etc, leaving me no further ahead than when I'd started.

I finally was able to get about $500 in my pocket - my grandmother sent me a couple hundred of that, in the mail. I bought myself a Greyhound bus ticket, I was to be leaving out on the 14th of August. I talked my mom into coming up to take me to get Mikeal & drive me to the bus station - we told my ex-hag that I was going to be spending the weekend with my mother & Mikeal, I'd be back on Sunday or Monday, this was a Friday evening. She sent 2 changes of clothes for Mikeal, that was it, and one diaper, although he'd been out of diapers for months when he went to go stay with her in the first place. He'd regressed that much in less than 2 months.

Anyways...my bus left out at 6pm, 12 hrs later it pulled into the Austin terminal. A different chat buddy picked me up at the bus terminal & took me out to where I'd be staying - a GORGEOUS $300K house (for those of you not familiar with what that means in Austin - it meant 4 bathrooms, full entry way, 3 car garage, 4 bedrooms, a huge master suite, formal dining room, HUGE kitchen, HUGE living room, beautiful fenced in private yard, etc...I felt completely out of place. Here I was with every worldly item I owned at that point in two duffle bags, a carry on suitcase, and a normal sized suitcase...I also had a car seat. That was it....well, I did have a few things that my mom took back to her place-enough to almost fill the trunk of her 2door car, but even that didn't amount to much at all.

Over the course of a week complete strangers would drive all the way out there, some from as far as an hour away, to pick me up and take me around town to look for a job. Within a week I landed a job, the next day I was given a car by a different 'complete stranger'. Within a month I met Brian face to face, falling instantly head over heels so fast it still takes my breath away. A week or two later I moved in with him & his roommate.

Of course that wasn't the end of fairy tale. My ex-hag hunted me down & started sending out subpenas that would beckon me to make regular trips back to Oklahoma, she felt completely entitled to Mikeal. I won each and every hearing, simply based on the fact that 1)I'm his mother & 2) she's a convicted felon. She pulled every dirty trick in the book and I was still gullible and naive, we'd work out a 'custody' plan between the two of us...and then she'd run off with Mikeal for a few months with the help of her family. I put a stop to all dealings with her after that incident. She of course hired a lawyer and a few court hearings again the judge finally told her to get over herself and let me care for my child...that was 7 years ago. I've only heard from her once since, and that was about 18 months ago. She told me about how she loved her grandson and yada yada yada yada bullshit until her own son went back to jail for failure to pay child support for a little while. I've not heard from her since, and I don't believe my mom has either (seeing as she has my mother's number, but not my new one). For all I know she's dead from a drug overdose or was caught shoplifting and is now sitting behind bars for the rest of her life, per the terms of her probation from her previous arrest. Either way, GOOD RIDDANCE!

I've only heard twice from the deadbeat sperm donor since I left him in Sept 2003. The first time was in Oct 2005, just a few weeks after I moved back to Oklahoma so I could file for the divorce, then again in February of 2010, where he told the judge he wanted 50/50 custody of Mikeal & to never have to pay child support or he wanted his rights terminated and to never pay child support again. The judge denied him on both accounts and he's still spotty in making child support payments and hasn't bothered with anything else related to Mikeal, the son he loves so much.

Brian on the otherhand, he's been great. We've had some pretty low points, as a couple, broke it off on SEVERAL occasions, but he's always been a daddy to Mikeal. Even when he and I weren't seeing eye to eye there was no denying his relationship with Mikeal, for that reason alone I never completely broke off contact with him...sure we'd gone over a year without seeing/talking to each other, but we had some things individually to get taken care of both legally and personally.

Well, at this point I'm out of alcohol in my juice bottle and out of juice to put in my alcohol bottle, and it's 2am and I should be doing some of my homework assignments, instead writing this entry...but my point is you can give your children the best upbringing in the world, mine was far from 'the best' or even mediocre for that matter, but it was VERY sheltered - I'd never even watched MTV until I was in my mid-20s, and don't care a lick for it - and my young adulthood turned out to be less than stellar. The MOST important thing a parent can EVER teach their child is that they will be there for them to HELP them when they need it and are willing to work for it....and sometimes you have to let them have the opportunities to make some mistakes so that they'll learn from said mistakes so that they can grow away from making deeper mistakes. I'm seriously lucky to have survived those few years with no more scars than what I have now. By all rights I should be dead or sitting in prison for someone else's death or something equally life damning. I can't say I've been given a 2nd chance to make my life awesome...I think I'm pushing the ranks of being on my 20th chance at life, but I can say that the LAST thing I want to do is lie to my children about the reality of life. I don't sugar coat, or make my kids think they don't have to worry about such things because 'we live in a good area'. Because frankly, it doesn't matter in the slightest how nice of an area you think you live in. The crap is everywhere - ALL of it. Right now you have at least one neighbor who beats their spouse, another neighbor that tortures their children, and another neighbor that spends 90% of their time completely strung out on *something*. And maybe that someone is you.

My family and friends, even the ones that saw me on a near daily basis, never knew or admitted that I was being beaten, burned with cigarettes, raped, cut with knives, verbally attacked, etc...yea, sure, I'd tried going to them in the beginning, I tried getting out early...did me absolutely no good to a bunch of folks who preached about how an honorable wife sticks with her husband or the husband had everyone charmed and just thinking that I just had a flare for the dramatic, since I was only 19/20 and he was almost 10 years older than me. After being shot down about it I just got better at hiding it, to the point that I became the things everyone believed me to be - a drunken whore to put it lightly.

I still work on a daily basis to be the woman that I know myself to be before all the bullshit swallowed me, but it's hard. I've only recently gotten to where I trust myself to have an occasional drink or three even, such as I think I've had tonight...I didn't measure out the shots of vodka, I just took a few sips out of the bottle of juice, filled it up with the shot or to I had in my little bottle from a few months ago, then when I drank that down some I poured in a few more shots worth of vodka from the new little bottle Brian brought home for me....But I still can't stomach the smell of whiskey or tequila.

One can make Disney out to be the villain, or MTV, or classmates, or any number of things...the reality of it is it all rests on the shoulders of the parents, caretakers, and role models in a child's life. The lessons taught and learned don't stop when the child becomes a legal adult and moves out of the home. The teaching and molding influence you have over your child doesn't stop until your child has died, at that moment they're no longer able to learn from you. Until that time comes though, they will still continue to learn from you, even after you've passed on before them.

My PaPa's favorite saying all my life was: A day is only wasted if you learn nothing and you teach nothing. Never let a day go wasted. There is always something to learn, even while teaching. He wasn't a scholar, he dropped out of school when he was 8 years old to join the circus, didn't learn to read past that level until he was nearly 60 years old, when he started having to use a computer to drive a semi. However, he was also one of the wisest men I knew. He only passed away about 8 years ago, when I was 20, I saw him on nearly a daily basis for the last 10 years of his life, with the except of the very last year, when I had moved far off to pursue a life with my ex-husband, and I still learn things from the way he lived his life, treated my Granny, their kids, and nearly 20 grandkids and four great-grandbabies (Mikeal was the youngest one born when he passed, Mikeal was 4 months old).

As far as my opinion goes, and it's the only one that matters, my PaPa was a great man. He makes all the Prince Charmings of the Disney franchise look lame. Dads - be the type of man you'd want your daughters to marry. Moms - lighten up and just enjoy...the dishes and laundry will never be caught up and a little dirt behind the furniture never hurt anyone. Money, looks, things, etc mean jack squat. I grew up dirt poor, but I was happy. I married a man with a lot of money (in comparison, at least), who made a lot of money and I was absolutely miserable and mistreated. Now, our family income counts as below poverty level for a family of 4 and I'm happier. I'm still working on some demons & hang-ups I have from my past, but outside of that I have everything I want in my broke, slightly overweight, balding, covered in body hair, Prince Charming. He's kind, honest, trustworthy, loving, and my best friend. That is all I know that matters. The stuff & looks can be gone without even a moment's notice - integrity lives for generations.

Tweet

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.

Tweet

opps...just one more, then bed.

I have decided that I will be deleting a blog that I have poorly kept up with. I will be merging it into this blog in the next few days...or weeks...depends on when the mood strikes.

The posts will be back dated to the dates that I originally wrote them in the previously 'private' blog, so they will not be showing as a newest post.

However, if you wish, until I get the posts all moved over...and really there are not that many, maybe 10 total, if that....you may read them here.

I don't remember everything I may have gotten around to writing and I'm not going to take the time tonight to read through the posts, so read at your own risk. The previously 'private' blog is about my marriage and relationship with my ex-husband. Not a pretty time of my life.

I must add a bit of a disclaimer. I tend to blog when I'm exhausted and the thoughts in my head at the moment that my fingers touch the keyboard are the thoughts that wind up published in my blog. I REALLY should take the time to wait to publish my posts until I've had time to proofread them and guarantee that they make an iota of sense, but I don't. One of these days I may, but in the meantime...you get the 'uncensored' rough drafts.

Tweet

I am a HORRID mother

My children ought to be banned from me!

My son is circumcised, my daughter has had her adenoids removed & tubes put in her ears.

Both my children are exposed to cigarette smoke.

I refer to either of them by their name, title, or individual pet name, as opposed to 'It' or 'Thing'.

I get a bit irritated with some of their normal for their age behaviors, but I work to help correct undesirable ones. I would never consider a child I was raising as evil, retched, ...or other condescending adjective that makes their behaviors a fault of theirs as opposed to a lack of attention on my part.

I let them play in dirt and other 'natural' things, to help them explore some of their likes and dislikes.

My house is no where near perfectly neat and organized, but it is child friendly.

My children know their manners - and USE them, even with complete strangers.

I allow my children freedom to be responsible. Either by allowing them to ride their bike without my hawk-eye on them every moment and by assigning them chores around the house.

My first child was exclusively breastfed, even though I worked on and off for that first 13 months, my second child was only partially breastfed for the first couple of months before I gave in to just giving her a bottle, thus ensuring greater peace for both of us at feeding times, even though I haven't held a job outside of the home since I was 7 months pregnant with her.

I have a husband who has medical problems, so I take on the bulk of the 'man' chores around the house, not because he can't do them, but because it's only fair after he's worked 40+ hours that week to provide for us and deserves a 'break'. He in turn keeps up with the kiddos - that is my break.

I'm not in the greatest of physical health myself, but I don't make excuses, I make allowances and then find a way to accomplish what needs to be done anyways. This could entail 'ignoring' the fact that something is out of place or just working in spurts.

I don't judge others because their choices for their families are different than mine, because I believe we all have that freedom to decide. There's also this clause about let 'he [she] without fault cast the first stone' and 'don't judge lest ye be judged'.

My children have a 'minimal' number of toys to play with, thus ensuring I don't have closets and closets and shelves and shelves of things to constantly have to be cleaning up.

If I don't want my child to get into something I either put it out of their climbing reach or behind a latch that they're unable to master until they're older. If they happen to get into something they shouldn't then it was my fault for leaving it out where they could get it. It doesn't make them an evil child, they're just learning. If I'm at someone else's home I am *mostly* diligent about keeping a close eye on them if I know they're prone to getting into things.

If my child needs some comforting in the middle of the night, whether that means crawling in my bed, a rub on their back in their bed, or even a super late night movie and snack, that's fine. They do know just what they need, it's my job to nurture that.

I, ALONE, (with the partnership of my husband) am responsible for the behaviors and actions of my children, if they behave in an unacceptable manner you can best believe I will do whatever the situation calls for to correct the behavior. If I find one of my actions to redirect ...or reteach their actions does not work I try something else, until I find something that DOES work. Yes, I have spanked on occasion and proud of it.

I have also found that 'do unto others' is a great rule to go by, within reason, with children. If they like to hit, kick, bite, pull hair the only way they will really understand the implications is if they've experienced such things.

It is in NO WAY up to me to determine what is right for another family. This is what works for mine. If I decide that in the middle of the grocery store, when my child starts throwing a fit about being hungry or thirsty, to serve my child a snack or drink that I plan on purchasing and letting her eat/drink throughout the store, that's MY choice. I'd rather have a satisfied child than a screaming one. Other times I deem it necessary to just ignore their fit and let them scream as they see fit.

I cook 98% of our meals, at home. Dinner is served AT the dinner table, with EVERYONE at the table (on the nights Brian isn't working). We all sit at the table together, with the TV turned off or placed in such a way that it is not viewable from the dinner table.

If someone decides they don't want something that is served a small effort is made to get them to at least eat a few bites, otherwise a leftover substitution is made or they just do without.

If they leave the table hungry because they didn't want to eat that's on them, I refuse to force them to sit there and eat if they truly are not interested in eating...this to me is an ACCEPTABLE natural consequence. I will put their leftovers in a container, into the fridge, then will reheat it later if they decide they are hungry. Afterall, I'm not always hungry at mealtimes, why should I expect them to be ready to eat right then. But they will sit there until either myself or Brian are done eating.

I do NOT deny my children sweets and 'junk' food. I simply limit what is available and make sure to have better alternatives on hand, at all times.

Stories are read every night before bed and bedtime routines are modified to fit the individual child to ensure that everyone is able to get some sleep (especially now that sleeping is no longer painful for Mikaila).

Rules at home are fairly lax, but rules away from home are strictly enforced, learned, and respected.

I use 'real' plates, silverware, etc and wash them over and over again, unless of course I'm going to have more people over than I have 'real' plates. My kitchen may be hot, my AC may be broke, and my dishwasher may not exist, but I refuse to be so lazy as to not be willing...or have my child, who is learning lifelong skills...to do the dishes on a daily basis. In the very least I own a $10 box fan.

I send my child to public school, without his own packed lunch on most days.

I do laundry on an every 3rd day-ish basis, therefore no one HAS to have 500 articles of clothing to have strung out everywhere. I put a limit of roughly 10-15 of each item (unless you count my shoes). Whatever is not worn & loved or has been outgrown just I give away.

I don't 'ban' my children from knowing their families because we have a difference of opinion, but I will limit their interaction with ones who are physically, mentally, and/or emotionally abusive. This even holds true for the dead beat sperm donor. He IS allowed, per MY decision, to have two hours of court SUPERVISED visits on the second Saturday of each month. HE chooses not to take advantage of this, not me. It is up to me to teach my children how to be respectful of EVERYONE, not just those that kiss my ass or bend to my desires.

I vaccinate my children, on the pediatric recommended schedule, just like I was, my siblings were, and likely my parents, as well as at least my cousins were and their children - the ONLY ones to have anything mentally or physically wrong with them are the ones that are afflicted with ailments completely unrelated to anything supposedly caused by vaccines.

I also had both my living children via cesarean - the first one because the doctor became impatient with me being in there for a THIRD weekend to have him, then I didn't progress quick enough for him to be home for dinner. Second one because it just wasn't feasible to attempt to drive 3 hrs to the nearest hospital that allowed VBACs, and because I picked her birthdate she was born at 37w3d - weighed in at 8lbs 4.5oz, with me smoking my whole pregnancy (yea, not terribly proud of that, but its done and over with and if 8lbs+ is going to be considered a low-weight newborn, born early, then so be it!)

For all of these choices and more I am PROUD of my parenting job. What I feel works for me, or what I'm learning doesn't work for me doesn't hold true for everyone, but that's their choice. At the end of the day all that matters is that myself and my children are happy and healthy about the choices I make (with my husband's help) about how to raise children. We may not see eye to eye but I can RESPECT that and withhold rude judgment, because who knows...in a few years I may change my mind about some things.

I also felt the need to add some more....

This was a 'response' to someone ALWAYS HARSHLY judging others' parenting decisions.

THEN takes and acts completely calloused about a motorist who, yes, was not wearing his seatbelt, but was killed in a car wreck. Calling it a 'natural consequence' and such. Just kinda pushed me over the edge of keeping my mouth shut and just looking past her judgments.

I seriously pray that she doesn't wind up with such a 'natural consequence' of her own...say loses a child because she wasn't able to keep all 3 from bolting from her and ending up getting hit by a car in a parking lot. I mean, in that case that would be considered a natural consequence, right? She should of kept better control of what her children did.

Or because she refuses to take one of her children in for allergy testing because they break out in hives on a regular basis from a food of some sort, that she's been unable to absolutely pin down and eliminate from the diet, that child winds up going into shock and medical personnel are too long in coming to her aid and she loses her child over it. I mean, that would be a natural consequence, right?

Then her 'pet' names for her children are Thing 1, 2, & 3...while referring to Thing 2 (the one also always breaking out in hives) as an evil, naughty, retched being...a gal who only happens to be a couple months older than Mikaila...when in reality it could be that her behaviors are related to her allergies, where many of Mikaila's were related to her ears...or in the very least related to the fact she's TWO, almost three.

Then other instances where she brow beat folks over choosing to have their young daughter's ears pierced, then turns around a month or so later and pierces her own not even (then) 1 year old's ears.

Or goes on and on and on about how HORRIBLE it is to send your child to public school...and has now signed her own child up for public school.

Or she goes recently and gets in her own wreck because she didn't pay attention and pulled out in front of someone, putting the lives of her children at risk, as well as the other persons in the other vehicle in jeopardy. Regardless of her "superior" car seat rules, if the other car had been going a bit quicker or been a bigger vehicle, besides a 2 door car vs her mini van, it could of been a completely different story.

Just CONSISTENT bullshit ALL THE TIME because she's so much better than everyone else.

THERE...now I think I feel better having gotten all of that off my chest. ☺

Tweet

Eight Years Ago...pt 1

...on this day was my due date. I went in for my regular check-up. I was measuring two weeks ahead by this time, so had another ultrasound. My ultrasound showed him to be weighing about 7lbs 8oz. My doctor was going to give me another three days to go into labor on my own before he induced me. None of us expected that it would take another 2 inductions - for a total of 3 - over the course of the next 18 days before I would get to hold my little big man with the help of a cesarean.

Edited to add the ugly side...because I promised myself I would quit hiding all the details....

The dead-beat that I was married to at the time started in on his criticism and degrading of me for this. Told me that real women go into labor on their own, that I was being lazy and the like. He went out that afternoon to go to work, did not get home until almost 5am, drunker than snot. During that evening I spent a lot of time walking the staircases and halls- we lived on the 3rd floor of an apartment building, that was designed like a nice hotel- so there were plenty of stairs and halls. I missed one of his phone calls during my walk, so when he finally got home, three hours after last call, I was apparently the one screwing around on him.

I ended up thankful that night that he was extremely drunk when he walked in. He passed out while in the middle of his outburst, crashed through a wall, and slept there all night... The next morning I moved the large solid oak entertainment center over to cover the hole in the wall, as well as the rest of the furniture in the living room to make it less obvious. I was 12 hours from friends and family that had already turned their back on me...believing me to be as immoral as the dead-beat had made me out to be.

Stay tuned over the next few weeks for the rest of the story....

Tweet

A Post a Day

HA! Who am I kidding?! If you're an avid reader of my blog you know that's me doing more of that crazy talk I do once in a while. I can count you lucky though if you catch more than five new posts from me a month, much less anything more than that, especially lately.

So some quick updates:

1) I'm not pregnant at this time. I'm going to be seeing a "real" gynecologist sometime next month to get to the bottom of getting this Mirena removed.

2) Mikaila goes in on the 1st of July to have surgery done to remove her adenoids and have tubes put in her ears. I guess I haven't given y'all that news... Because of her speech and behavioral issues we've been seeing a number of different therapists and specialists. A hearing test was ordered, but before her doc would sign off on it he wanted her to be seen by an ENT (Ear, Nose, Throat Specialist). The ENT noticed a lot of fluid built up, gave me a script of antibiotics to give her, followed up about 3 weeks later, there was zero change in the fluid, so the surgery was scheduled. The general consensus is that her tonsils and adenoids are larger than is necessary for a gal her size...likely have been all her life since she has snored every sleeping moment of her life. She's a big mouth breather as well, always has been, hence contributing to our problems with her being able to latch on comfortably to breastfeed, bottle feeding was slightly better, but I still had to hold the bottle just so. She's always ALWAYS had sleep issues...some months are WAY worse than others. She's always, ALWAYS, had a runny nose. There really is a long list and had she had a competent doctor to begin with most of these problems could of been taken care of a long time ago. Ironically it wasn't apparent or brought up in the traditional sense because she's only ever had two diagnosed ear infections. The fluid was always mentioned at her well-checks and other visits with her previous incompetent doctor's office, but nothing worthy of more note than that, apparently. UGH!

3) My ex has moved out of Oklahoma. He's supposedly living in Missouri now...and I just won't get into that whole can of "what the fuck" right now. There went my $200 a month child support payment...can I get a "big whoopdeedoo"/"what did you expect"?

4) Brian and I both have awesome health insurance now!

5) This week has been one positive after one negative bombshell all week long.

I'd go into more of the details, but I have an ugly stalker and care not to indulge her with everything too.

Later lovies!

Tweet

Explaining it all...

I know I've been vague in some of my posts recently. Just a lot has been going on and a lot of things were up in the air. I don't like to be an alarmist and try not to freak out or worry others before I have all the information, it's just not my style. I like to get all my information, all my facts, and have a better handle on things before I share with everyone. There are some people that know my play by play, but only because they're key elements in me being able to get to the other side to share with everyone.

Here I talked about Big Changes. Now that we're two week down the road and have everything rolling in that direction and getting ready to take off I'll share. We're moving to Tennessee. Brian is going to be transferring out there, so there is no issue on that front, he'll still have his years of tenure at his employer, still eligible for his benefits, raises, and promotions...there's just better opportunity for those raises and promotions to take place in an area where there has been steady and substantial growth in his field, as well as it's a much more populated area, all things that work in our favor...MUCH more so than being in this stagnant area that we've been in for the last few years. There's not going to be much growth here, period. This town and area is likely about as big as it's ever going to be - maybe 25,000 people for the whole county, with anything to do, jobs included being a minimum of a 30 minute drive, move of it being over a 2 hour drive, one way. We'll be living right outside of Nashville.

I'll also have the opportunity to put the kids into daycare, so that I can go to work, HUGE bonus there, not just because of the money I could bring in but also because I'll be able to get out and feel like I'm contributing to society. Nothing against stay-at-home-moms, but it's just not in my personality.

We're leaving out on Tuesday, after I'm done testifying against my ex-husband in court.

That moves me onto my next part of this...the court hearing.

My ex was released on a felony charge, with 4 years probation, back on the 23rd of December. Now I'd warned the judge that he wasn't going to follow through with paying it. After all this now makes the 3rd time she's released him in the last year...the last time he made a payment was on the 24th of February of 2009, almost a year ago. He's made almost THREE payments since the child support was first ordered in February of 2006. He's now trying to take me to court. Now mind you, he was released in December on probation, probation that states he's not allowed to miss a single payment for the next 4 years or he goes straight back to jail for the duration of that four years OR he pays the $10,000+ that he owes in back support, whichever comes first. It's nearing the end of February, still haven't received a payment...so he's taking me to court.

Why is he taking me to court?

I asked my caseworker about this...my ex is claiming that I haven't allowed him any visits with Mikeal. Unfortunately that just proves that my ex is incapable of reading what the divorce decree states.

The decree states:
The Petitioner is granted custody of the parties' minor child, Mikeal ****.

The Respondent's right to visitation is suspended due to his incarceration, and that upon the Respondent's release he shall be entitled to SUPERVISED visitation with the parties' minor child on the second Saturday of each month, beginning the month after his release, from 2:00pm until 4:00pm. The Respondent may not modify the custody or visitation provisions of this Decree until he has filed with the Court proof of his completion of the Helping Children Cope with Divorce, or similar program.

Added by the judge in writing: Both parties are required to complete Helping Children Cope with Divorce within 30 days of this order and much file a completion certificate before seeking relief from this decree.

The dumbass has yet to take the course, much less file with the courts a certificate of completion, so he can't change it, for one. SECONDLY...it states SUPERVISED visits on the 2nd Saturday of the month, from 2-4pm. Meaning he has to petition the court for a court approved supervisor to oversee the visitations, another thing that he has yet to do. This is all for my son's protection. My ex is a registered sex offender who, with the help of his mother, has kidnapped Mikeal and ran off with him for a few months, when he was just barely two years old.

I'm going to get the biggest kick out of seeing him actually show up for this hearing and try to convince the judge that because he's not made an attempt at either of these two conditions of visitation gives him the right to not have to pay child support...child support that he's currently on probation for not paying, and has not paid since being released on probation. The judge here she stops giving a person a chance after they've fucked up so many times, ESPECIALLY when she's been as gracious as she can be with such a loser. She's going to laugh at him, tell him tough titty, and have the bailiff escort him down to the county jail - which sits in the basement of the courthouse.

OK. Moving on.

Here I blogged about many things in our world coming crashing down. At that particular time we were given some fairly grim news about Brian's legs. He's had a bum knee for a while, sometime during Christmas he slipped and started wearing his fancy brace full time on that knee. Well, as a result of the combined slip and favoring that knee his shin on the other leg became QUITE inflamed. We tried to treat it for a month and it just wasn't getting better, instead seemed to be getting worse. So he went to be seen, after we had the money for the doctor's visit. They did x-rays, but because of all the swelling and inflammation they we're able to tell what all was going on, they were quite sure this his tendons had ruptured, meaning surgery. And because they were going to be doing surgery on the one they might as well as do the surgery on his bad knee at the same time to cut down on the chance of re-injury by favoring the bad one, visa versa. He does definitely need surgery on the one knee, eventually. So here I was sitting on thinking my husband is going to be out of work for a while for double leg surgery, I have a 2 year old that I haven't been able to find childcare for, in an area where finding a job is like finding a needle in a haystack - DIFFICULT - all that to be known in less than a week's time, on whether he'd need the surgery or not.

He rested up best he could, called in from work one day, had the next two days off, went back to the doctor who'd splinted it up pretty good and had asked he come back in a week to see if the swelling and inflammation had come down. THANKFULLY the swelling went down and the doc was better able to see what was going on with him; turned out to just be shin splints. Told Brian to go on light duty for a month, check back in, and it should be healed enough for him to go back to work as normal. His employer stated they weren't able to accommodate him with light duty, so gave him the month off under FMLA. NO big deal, seeing as we'd just gotten our income tax refund so had a bit of a cushion from that to pay up and ahead on all of our bills for a few months.

That brings us back to why we're moving. That morning BEFORE we knew what was going on with Brian having to have surgery or not our landlord's husband - who REFUSES to even take the rent payment if his wife isn't home - comes POUNDING on our door at 6am, before we're even out of bed, to chew us out over we better not be trying to screw over his wife, because Brian missed ONE day of work in over TWO years of even being at this job, AND to add insult to that rent wasn't even DUE for another 48 hours, wasn't even late for another 7 days, we've NEVER missed a payment NOR have we even been late in almost 2 years of living here. - THAT was the catalyst to us deciding to move and make such an extreme move. Later that day, after the doctor's appointment and Brian talking to his boss about the restrictions, it was confirmed that this was the best timing for us to move. Brian being off from work for a month, a house being open and in our price range, that we can move into by the end of the month, then a week later the job transfer was confirmed. Of course we were detained here by my having to show for court next week, so that sucked.

Another thing that came crashing down at the VERY same time that Brian first went to the doctor was Mikeal started having some VERY noticeable health issues. Passing out being the BIG thing. I talked to my mom about it at that point, eventually, and I found out that according to her that was how my dad's heart issues started presenting themselves, so I panicked a bit. This is my baby. My daddy died at age 44 from a heart attack, his heart issue wasn't diagnosed until he was in his early 30s, but the clues of it had been there all his life. So I got Mikeal into the doctor, insisted that the doc not take me lightly, and to my surprise he didn't argue with me, he knew I wasn't messing around with this. Blood work was done there and an appointment was set for March to follow up with a pediatric cardiologist...I'll have to transfer that to his new doc in the Nashville area, but that's not a big deal. From the blood work we found out that Mikeal has a thyroid issue, blogged about here.

Lengthy, I know. But I had to wait until we got closer to this point. Nearly everything is packed up. Monday we get the rental truck and load it. Tuesday I go to court at 10am. Directly after being done there we're headed down the road. We should be in our destination city by roughly 10pm.

Have a good day. I'll post more details of our move and our new house once we get settled in and everything turned on. :D

Tweet

Ex-husband vent.

I'm needing to send my ex a letter of my intent to move....one of those things in our divorce decree, so that I can give him "adequate" time to file for a change of visitations, etc....either 30 before I move or up to ten days immediately after my move, whichever is most doable.

As it stands he's allowed visits on the 2nd Saturday of the month, under the supervision of a court mediator, between the hours of 2pm and 4pm. He also is not able to change the visitations from that until after he has participated in a divorce counseling seminar (judge's decree, I had to attend that too). So I'm not worried about my ex who won't show for court on child support matters to attempt to take me to court to change the visitations. Furthermore, my ex has only seen Mikeal TWICE since I left him when Mikeal was 13 months old....he's now 7 1/2. He saw Mikeal for a few hours during Easter when Mikeal was about 18 months old - my ex's adopted dad took Mikeal and I up to Kansas City to visit him hoping that I'd reconsider getting the divorce. And then he didn't see Mikeal again until he was 3 years old, and hasn't since. During this time my ex has also only sent 3 letters, and has made a few phone calls to my mom's house, or rather, had his mother call. Now, my ex-MIL started calling in early October of this past year, would call and talk to Mikeal on a regular basis...then stopped calling altogether, about the time my ex was picked up again on the failure to pay support...haven't heard anything from them since outside of the courtroom while my ex was sporting the county jumpsuit and silver bracelets.

BUT as a responsible, law abiding mother I am still required to do my part to inform my ex of where I'm going to be taking Mikeal.

I have to provide address, phone number (don't have one yet), and the reason for our move.

I haven't actually written one of these letters because prior to this move I thought I just had to update with the child support officers and the court, plus my ex was in either jail or a halfway house, and I'd just call his grandma (who absolutely hates him and his mother's side of the family for all the lies and stealing they've done to her) let his grandma know that I was moving, she'd in-turn tell her son (ex's bio father) and he's in turn tell ex's mother, and she'd tell ex...I'd know he got the message because I'd get a letter from him telling me what kind of horrible person I was for keeping him away from his son...as if his being in jail 600 miles away, BEFORE I moved another 600 miles down the road, didn't have anything to do with that anyways... But I found out today from my lawyer I have to send the notice to him since the protective order is no longer in place...it expired on Mikaila's first birthday and there hasn't been enough probable cause for the courts to renew it.

I really wouldn't even bother with sending a letter except for the fact his grandmother is in her 90s and she's already had to deal with physical assaults from him, threats, and the like, so I don't want her to be put in such a position, at least not because of something I told her and she passed along. She's a great lady, now that she knows I wasn't making up all the stuff I'd told them about my ex and my reasons for leaving him...my ex in a drunken state one evening, while living with her, went on and on about a lot of the things he'd done to me....prior to that everyone thought I was the horrible lying cheating whore he'd made me out to be, because there's no way that ex would ever do such things, he's made good money, he's the first one of that family to actually graduate high school, he'd never been arrested, and blah blah blah....VERY high marks for that family, let me tell you.

So my problem now is how do I go about writing this letter and then sending it so as to keep my ass covered with it all. His family is the sort that will use any chance they think they have to make life miserable for me...such as trying to bring me back to court to get custody of Mikeal...granted they haven't tried that since spending almost $20K to several different lawyers when Mikeal was 2 and the multiple judges laughed them all out of court, but still it worries me.

In also don't have an address for my ex...I have one for his mother and I think his bio father, but not for him personally...he hasn't lived at his sex offender registered address for at least a year, and it took the courts over 8 months to actually find him to arrest him, only to release him again.

My lawyer's secretary just said that I needed to send it certified mail, in the care of his mother to him and leave it at that. Again, I haven't talked to his mother since he beginning of November and then she claimed to have nothing to do with her son because he's tried multiple times to kill himself, she caught him shooting up in her house, so kicked him out, the like...yea, whatever, he probably just wouldn't share with her so she kicked him out, but that's something for another day...

Ugh...I'm so sick of trying to do right in this whole deal. I just want to be able to be rid of my ex and be able to live my life with my wonderful husband and children without having my ex always in the shadows of everything I do!

Tweet