Thursday, November 17, 2011

I stalked you and your girlfriends on facebook tonight.  Out of sheer boredom and nothing else.  I am lonely tonight.  Wishing I had someone and thinking about when I did and I was still lonely.  I want to text you something nasty to make myself present in your night.  Hope I fuck up your feelings.  I want to tell you that you are a jerk one more time, as if this time somehow, it'd get through your fucking head.  But it wont and I know it and I really do pity you deep down.  Instead of calling to hear your lies or texting to read your bullshit, I decided to blog where I doubt you will ever see it but the only place I can let it out for the pain in my words that it is to me.
You broke my fucking heart a zillion times over and I am free of you.  It has been about five months now.  But still, I feel the pain and hurt and scars of you.  And the beast in me wants to keep hurting you. I want to kick and poke at you.  Even when I know that you don't give a damn.  It hurts me still.  That I loved you so hard and you turned out to be my undoing.  
Now I'm picking up the pieces.  Because I chose life, and the possibility of a better existence for our kids over the sickness pain and hurt that was you.  But late at night, when my babies are sleeping and this house is quiet, I think of you.  I think of all that could have been and all that was.  I think of what it really is.  A hot mother fucking mess.  That's what it is.  I do not regret walking away and I never will.  I tried so hard for so long to make it better and to stay even though it wasn't.  I warned you...
And now I am gone but I'm still mad about going.  Isn't that a bitch!  I am mad that you still are such a retard that you cant see your fucking sins or see that I see right through your bullshit and have for sometime now....I'm mad that I am seeing it all from the other side now and am just as mad at me.  People say that abuse is bad and that if you're in a relationship with someone who hurts you then you should just walk away.  If I had, who knows who I'd be now.  But I wouldn't have the girls either...But I wouldn't wear the scars you've given me either.  I wouldn't think that no matter how many fucking love stories I read, love is a fucking fake ass joke and good guys don't exist.  When all you know is hurt and pain and meanness in a relationship, how can you ever really believe that people actually love and respect and appreciate eachother in a relationship?   I wish there is a good guy out there for me.  Someone who someday makes me see that I am worth loving and treating like a princess and staying faithful to.  But I'm just a shell of the girl I once was.  I am just the remains of your love and what you did to me cannot be undone.  Who will love me now?  I'm having a hard time loving myself these days.  Its hard to believe that there's love out there for me still.  After all the years of you telling me how bad I am, I actually might believe it a bit.  I try to prove a little bit more each day that I am nothing that you said I was, but deep down, I hear your voice in my head even that you are gone.  I married you, I joined my heart to yours.  I carried two of your children.  I wept for you, I bled for you.  I still do.  I hate you.

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

I am free of you
but my heart is still damaged.
You wont let me go.

Autumn is here now.
My soul, heart, mind, is changing.
I am older now.

By spring, you'll be gone
from my conscience and my ways.
Thoughts will be my own.

Winters uncounted
I slept in the dark of you.
Not this year. I'm free.

And when summer comes,
I'll dance in the heat of ME.
I'll say, "Ha-cha-cha!"

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Okay, so here goes something I hope.  Its been months and months since I've blogged but not a minute goes by that these thoughts in my head and feelings inside of me make burning words I wish to push out....I left him.  I picked up my kids and our important papers, and I quit my jobs. I ran through my house with a roll of trash bags and twenty good minutes to clear out.  I packed up my Yukon, and I bounced.  My babies and I went to live with family until I can get on my feet in this new city.  Hurts to say that still.  I did 8 years of loving him with the entirety of my soul.  I almost died in the oblivion that was his "love".  I moved away, I filed for divorce, and I'm starting over. I go to a domestic violence program.  I go to counseling, I have a psychiatrist. I go to peer support groups.  I am a survivor of a life I never wanted to admit that I lived.  I still feel that shame I felt while in it, that prevents me from talking about it sometimes.
  I have new problems now too.  I get panic attacks.  Anxiety is driving me crazy.  Depressed, anxious, stressed out, weepy, angry, insecure, scared shitless.  I feel like my shoulders are pinned to my ears and I'm in a constant state of stress and tension and nervousness.  I go hard on myself, mean and demanding of me.  I'm my own worst critic.  Seems like I don't need him to tell me anything, I can say it all on my own.  A broken record in my head.
  I feel like the girl in How To Love.  I am insecure.  I am terrified.  I had a lot of crooks try to steal my heart.  I wonder will anyone ever even really love me.  Is there someone out there who even knows how to?  I don't even know how to love myself.  I don't know what I deserve.  I'm not even ready to love, or look for love or anything like it, but I doubt I will know it if I saw it.  I just hate this lonely.  This feeling like I spent my life trying to fix a love that wasn't ever gonna be right and now I cant even love myself.  I can't even sit in the quiet with myself and be okay with what we talk about.  Me and I don't get along.  I don't like this feeling.  I don't like to feel.  I don't want to feel.
  So I started to run.  I felt like kicking and screaming and burning down the entire world.  I felt like lashing out and attacking anyone and everything in my path.  Total destruction, utter devastation.  Hurt like I do motherfuckers, and so on and so forth.  So I stood up out of my pity party chair, put my shoes on and ran right out of my garage and down the street.  Very Forrest Gump-ish I know right, "I just felt like run-ning".  The faster I ran, the harder my breath was drawn in and out of my lungs, the less even my inner voice was able to shit talk.  I ran until my head was quiet.  I ran until my legs were jelly.  I ran until sweat poured and my lungs burned.  Felt pretty good. Until the soreness set in the next morning.  But I took care of myself and the next time I warmed up first and stretched and all that good shit.  I got my ipod out and did it right the next time, but then I even turned it off and just ran in silence.  I never pictured me for a runner, but there I was, out there run-ning.  I told my counselor and she had a book about running as therapy.  I downloaded a couch to 5K running app on my droid.  I got out and got running.  I was like NIKE, I just did it.
  Then my counselor said, maybe I need to hear my head again for a while.  What kind of shit is that?  After 28 years, I'd finally found a safe and healthy way to make my thoughts shut the fuck up and I should not do it so much?  Wow.  I need to think, I need to feel and hear myself and learn to love me blah blah blah.  She told me to journal, to blog, to do poetry and integrate that with my running.  So this morning, my fingers are running over this keyboard instead of my feet beating the pavement to the base line of Adele's Rolling Through The Deep.  And I think I may feel a little bit better....

Monday, May 23, 2011

Shit My Mom Says...Mondays

  Wow, it's been a couple of weeks since my last post.  I've had bloggers block I guess.  I recently subscribed to Evernote (awesome shit) and am using it to keep track of blog topics, but I haven't been able to form any coherent thoughts worthwhile enough for a blog post.  Mom has had plenty of things to say in the last couple of weeks....

  • My mom has her 215 and she's gone to the club to get her medicine and takes forever getting back.  I know it's because she has to talk to everyone she sees between her front door and her destination about whatever comes out of her mouth.  When she returns, she seems a little out of sorts so I ask what happened. 
     "I'm in the club waiting for the lady to take care of me and another lady comes in and asks the price of the edible suckers.  $4.50!  $4.50 for a fucking sucker, mind you, and this lady wants to buy 20 of them!  I scoffed and told that lady I didn't see the need for anyone to buy 20 suckers unless they're taking them to a daycare!"

  I almost choked on my own tounge laughing at the image of a daycare filled with nice, quiet, laid back little stoner toddlers, all ready for snack and a nap!  Now, I want everyone to understand that this one was completely just mom talking shit.  She does not share with children lol.  Her motto is "if you just say no, there'll be more for me."  But of all the shit my mom says, this was one of those things she said in public which made it even funnier to me.

  • We talk every morning, either she calls me ass-crack early, well before my alarm goes off and then I end up oversleeping and Nonna misses the bus; or I go to her house the next town over after dropping the baby off at school.  This morning's conversation went a little something like this:

   "Mornin' Mama, how are you today?"
   "I'm fine Tina, how are you?"
   "Decent.  Whatcha doin' mom?"
   "Same thing I do every morning."
   "What's that mom, trying to take over the world?"
   "What?  I don't give a fuck about the world, I just want a man with a big ass crop I can take over!"

  Can't help you there mom, but it did lead me to the belief that medical marijuana patients should have a dating service.  Mom needs her a man.....a man with a master plan!

  • Mom has a problem with authority.  She hates cops, doctors, firemen, pharmacists...basically anyone with a badge or with  medical credentials.  If a cop today were to stop her on the sidewalk to let her know she had dropped her wallet, I'd probably have to bail her out of jail for accosting an officer.
    She would talk so much shit before the poor cop could even tell her about his good deed that he would just take her ass to jail.  So when taking her places where authority figures, or medical representatives are present I have to give her little pep talks about manners.  "Remember mom, they are just doing their jobs.  The questions they ask, they ask everyone," and so on and so forth.  So when I took her to the pharmacy to get her medicine I had to remind her that she could talk anyone in the entire Wal-Mart however she wanted, but she had to be polite to the pharmacy techs.  "Just hand her your prescription, ask how long it will be and say thankyou."
      "Why the fuck do I have to be nice to everyone?  That bitch in there is crazier than I am and they let her on the other side of the counter with all the medicines!"
       "Ya, but she's got security on her side mom."
       "Fuck her security, I'll go find someone to talk to in the pet department!"

     And she did, she found her a man in the pet department looking at one of those retractable leashes and boy, did she sell him on it.  She told him all about how well it works for her dog, how she got her leash at a yardsale, the breed of her dog (a black pitt/lab named Onyx, and you better not ever call her dog a black bitch either, thems fightin' words) and asked the man what breed his dog was.  Too bad he didn't look like he had a big crop.  She said good morning to passers by and when they didn't respond, she responded "Well I guess not then!" but she left the lady behind the counter of the pharmacy alone and we made it in out and out of there with no confrontations!  Yay for you mama.  I love you!


Monday, May 2, 2011

Shit My Mom Says..Mondays

  • My daughter is laying flat on my mom's kitchen floor, swishing her head back and forth like a mop...         mom says: 
       "Get your hair off of that floor right now!  Do you know how much pee I put on that floor?  I pee on it every night.  Don't you tell nobody that though."        
I can just see my 5 year old's eyes light up. I'm sure she'll be telling her whole class soon enough.

  • She is supposed to be listing things she is good at, and her dreams for her counselors' appointment.  I'm over visiting and helping her brainstorm. My mom is good at lots of things and I was sure to help her with that list but I told her her dreams were on her own to list.  They went a little something like this:
     "I dreamed I was 7' tall, it never happened.  I dreamed I was walking along an ocean beach.....That shit's not happening either.  What the fuck am I supposed to dream about!?!!?"
  • Every time my mom says something that just has me laughing my ass off now, I look for a pen and paper so I can remember it for my Monday posts.    She's told me repeatedly that she doesn't give a damn that I have this blog posting.  But the last ROTFLMFAO comment had me yelling to my 5 year old to get me a pen immediately.  She's eyeing me sideways now.  She very calmly says:
     "What the fuck are you writing?
     "Shit My Mom Says Mondays, mom.  I told you about this."        
     "Hmm.  More like Diary of a Crazy White Woman's Mad Black Daughter!"
     "God I love my mom."

HAPPY FUCKING MONDAY EVERYONE FROM ME AND MY MOM!                                                        

Saturday, April 30, 2011

Beauty That Turns A Man To Stone....Haiku for You

Medusa, you are
misconceived in your glory
they only see ill.

I see you in there.
With your star like qualities,
you blow them away.

Crumbling and cracking,
when their eyes meet with your own.
Turns a man to stone.

Your beauty unseen,
they cant love you if they look
for what lies beneath.

Close your eyes sweetness,
pray for a blind man to see
you in your true self.

Open them again
the snakes still writhe in your hair
No longer hidden.

Your lover can't see.
Or you'll turn that man to stone.
May as well give up.

Let him only touch
that which you want him to see.
Or it will end him.

No more love for you.
Too bad for you Medusa.
Your eyes tell the truth.

Monday, April 25, 2011

Shit My Mom Says..Mondays

You're not using my ashtray for a fucking ashtray! What's wrong with you?    
 -sorry mom, I thought that's what its for.  It's a really cool ashtray though, more art than function but still, its a fucking ashtray.

I put the lizard in the bathroom and you'll never guess where I found the shower bless his little heart.
-yup, figure that one out on your own peeps. The lizard is obviously too fucking cold to do anything but lay around in the shower stall and wait to get captured.  He could have maybe made his grand escape if he'd only got up to the toilet....but then I'd have got the late night call that we were going to have to come help her search the pipes for her lizard.

I don't mind scratching your dog's ass, cuz he can't reach it, but really he's got to stop looking at me like that.  Don't you ever scratch his ass for him?
-nope, I leave that for y'all two's quality time when you come to visit mom.