Tag Archives: hurt

A time you feared for the safety of a loved one.

Posted on October 21, 2010 | 10 Comments

There was a prompt from Mama Kat this week that caught my attention.
Mama's Losin' It

5.) A time you feared for the safety of a loved one.

I’ve told this story before.  It’s from the scariest time in my life. New mother, beautiful newborn and a meth addict.  Somethings gotta go…..

There is nothing scarier than fearing that the drug addict you married is going to kill you and/or your child.  To me, there is nothing scarier or more dangerous than a meth addict in need of a fix.

converseChapter 7 in what I like to call “The book of meth”……..we’re nearing the end now, thank you all for coming with me as I tell my story….

Catch up from the begining here-

Or the entire Book of Meth here~

My first Christmas as momma was amazing. The PIT was healthy, happy and full of spunk. She had no idea I was miserable inside….

Mr meth was still in jail thru new years. I still hadn’t gone to see him, still refused to speak to him…all communication went thru his family. Finally in January I went to see him..I simply went to make myself clear…I was done. I told him that I hated him, that my daughters first Christmas was amazing no thanks to his worthless ass…told him that when he got out he was not coming to my home…told him it was over, I wanted out. I told him I wanted a divorce. I sat there and felt nothing as he bawled his eyes out and begged me to give him “just one more try”…I felt nothing. I wanted him to hurt. He crushed me…I wanted him to feel the pain that I felt when I realized “we” were over because of his choices.

I said “make a choice fucker! Marriage or meth?!?”

He made his choice and that is why we are here, discussing divorce, behind glass in a fuckin jail…on our fuckin sham of a wedding anniversary. Every little girls dream I know.

I left the jail still emotionless, quiet…I felt numb. Seriously?! Is this really my life right now?! What the shit?! What the fuck is wrong with me? I thought to myself. What kind of loser has a husband behind bars? What kind of loser has a husband who brings meth to a family reunion and drops it? Apparently me! Fuck!!!


111I went to pick up the PIT, took her home and cuddled and rocked her to sleep. I held her all night that night. Didn’t sleep for even a moment..I sat in that stupid gray rocking chair rocking all night…crying…bawling. I looked at my precious baby and I felt like such a failure….I wanted to give her the best and I knew that there’s no way I could. Failure….that haunts me everyday. I still feel like a failure because she doesn’t have a dad like I meant for her to have. I wonder if I always will…and as tears fill my eyes right now…I’m pretty sure I will.

Mr meth was released from jail sometime in January or February…he didn’t bother us at first. He went to his aunts and stayed with them for a while and seemed to make an effort. Soon however..the meth the friends the same old same old sucked him right back in. He started breaking into the house again and told me he would rather kill me than lose me. Ummmm, wouldn’t he have lost me either way? Hello…dead?! Nut job!!

Since the holidays my family had known that my marriage was over. Not feeling the need to hide my situation anymore I went to my dad for help. He spent a day with me helping get a restraining order and change the locks on the doors yet again. I met with a realtor to put my house, that I loved but could not afford on just my income, on the market. One more thing I was going to lose because of mr meths choices. I loved that house…my grandfather gave me my inheratance to use as a down payment on this house…I moved into this house literally one week before my grandfather died. He was to weak to even come into my house the day I moved in…but he drove to town with gramma and waited in the car in my driveway and told me that he was proud of me and that my house was beautiful. I squeezed my poppa thru the car window that day…poppa and I were both beaming. Now here I was bawling as I signed the papers to put the house up for sale. I still feel like I let poppa down…I lost the house he helped me get….

Mr meth was getting more and more nuts by the day and the restraining order didn’t stop him most days. One sunny afternoon I went out to my garage…a place I rarely went…I’m a girl…I have no business in a garage unless it’s a garage sale:) that afternoon I went out there looking for who knows what..I’m not even sure why I went out there. I went to open the door and almost broke my face…apparently the door was locked. Odd…I didn’t even know this locked! I knew I didn’t have a key because I knew this lock had not been on my door before, so being the naturally psycho bitch that I am, I kicked the door open…I must have been really pissed because I’m still kinda suprised I kicked it open in one swift kick!  There, in my garage was a Lexus, a Lexus that I knew was not mine since I had just begged the car dealer to buy my own Civic back from me because I couldnt afford it.  I actually knew who the Lexus belonged to…I was a fellow drug lord friend of Mr Meths car.  The question was. why the fuck is the drug lords car in my garage? How long has it been here? What the hell?! I really need to pay attention!

The PIT was napping when I made this discovery so I took that as an opportunity to pick a fight with the drug lord.

First, I went down to the basement, also a place I rarely went, mostly out of fear of finding drugs…..but that day I went. I went into the room that I later found out my husband was smoking meth in, a room I hadnt been in for a very long time. There on the shelf was the bottle of ZipStrip paint thinner I was after……..I poured the bottle of ZipStrip paint thinner into a super soaker that was in my basement for some unknown reason….I figured it was a sign from God to use it in my mission.

I called the drug lord who had his Lexus in my garage and asked him what the hell was going on. He told me that Mr Meth and him had gotten in a bit to deep with the latino drug lords and were now on their shit list, so naturally, they decided to hide the Lexus in my garage.  Terrific. Using my garage to hide your car from latino drug lords that you have pissed off. How thoughtful. Especially since I had made myself more than clear that I wanted NO part of any of this nonsense….none.  At least I had thought I made myself clear…..apparently not….so I told the owner of the Lexus that I was on my way out to the garage with my super soaker full of ZipStrip paint thinner and I was going to write “CRACKHEAD” on the hood of his beloved Lexus.

Within moments he was at my garage ready to relocate his car….but not before I could scream every possible obsinity at him and called him every bad name a person could call an asian….all of my neighbors were outside at his point…..curious as to what the crazy lil white girl was screaming about.  They soon found out…..I made it clear that this person as well as my soon to be ex husband were worthless drug addicts and I had no part nor did I want any part of the horse shit they were into. In fact, I yelled to all my neighbors…..”if you see either of these fuckers anywhere near my house PLEASE call the cops….  they are most likely wanted for some crime somewhere”.  After this chaos I created in my own front yard had gotten way out of hand the police did arrive but my worthless turd of a husband and his drug lord associate had already fled.  However, at least now, EVERYONE knew that I personally wanted no part of his illegal activity and the neighbors soon took the action to call the police whenever Mr Meth slithered back my direction.  I also knew, that I had brought this chaos into their quiet little neighborhood.  I knew I had to move…..I was always gonna be the crazy white chick screaming at the asian drug lords with the cops at her house weekly.  Yuck…..nightmare neighbor!  Nightmare reality is what I was living….

→ 10 Comments

Posted in The Book of Meth, Writers workshop

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Shitbricks of life

Posted on September 27, 2010 | 7 Comments

Ya know how sometimes life hits ya with a shitbrick that knocks you on your ass and youre like “eh, well” and you get back up?

Im just going through a “Im not getting off the floor. Im going to lay here to die” phase.

Not to worry…I hate my ex far too much to risk him ever getting MY child ever.

And I just know there would be some happy ass save the world type that would be all “oh lets reunite this little girl with her meth addicted father” before Im even buried.

In a matter of days my world crumbled…..in a matter of moments I felt the air being sucked out of my lungs, the weight of my worries too heavy this time….In a matter of days…..I crumbled to what is sure to be my darkest ‘funk’ thus far.

My job, my once friends, my heart……not at all what I once thought.

It hurts to be wrong.

It hurts to be betrayed, lied to and shunned.

It sucks when reality sets in and you have to admit that you’re alone and you were so very wrong…….

but I always come back….eventually……

→ 7 Comments

Posted in I rarely ever to never have anything nice to say...like right now, Journey to find....me, NEWSFLASH: Im a bitch, someday I'll be *normal*

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , ,

9-11…a day of more than mixed emotions

Posted on September 11, 2010 | 9 Comments

It was a glorious fall morning in Minnesota.  The bluest most untouched sky…sun shining bright…leaves starting to change that wicked red and orange of autumn.

Autumn

I remember getting into my car that morning and thinking “it’s to fuckin early for this. Damnit that sun is bright! I feel a vomit coming on. Shit” and then running back onto my house to blow chunks yet again.  You see, that glorious morning I was heading to the doctor (far too early. Anything before noon in my pre-momma days was murder.) to confirm what that little pee stick said…that I was indeed knockered…which explained the constant puking. (I puked cheerios. Who the hell can’t handle cheerios?!)

*side note: try being a nurses aide at a hospital, wiping old folks asses and having to say “oop one sec Margaret…I’m gonna barf…just stay right there k?” not cool. I barfed all the damn time!

Once the barf session was over I headed out to the car…cranked up a CD and headed off to the doctor. I remember sitting in the waiting room listening to elevator music thinking “I’m gonna barf. I’m never going to stop barfing. Omg 9 months of barfing?! What have I done?!” just then a nurse called me back. I sat in the exam room nervous, terrifed, naked, freezing and still barfing waiting for my OB to come in. My OB was a wonderful woman who calmed my fears, and told me that I wasn’t going to barf forever and I could have an epidural for delivery. (What? It’s scarey to think about the pain of pushing a person outta your vagina! Forget it…call anestesia) and answered all of my ridiculous “I’m to scared to be a mom” questions and “what ifs”.  Then it was onto the physical exam. Which, for the record is terrible. Get the hell away from my cervix! But then my whining turned to panic.  My panic grew with every move the doctor made with the stethascope across my belly. “I’m not hearing a heartbeat.” she said.  I laid there silently but the look on my face must have said “OH FUCK” loud and clear because she reached out her hand, helped me sit up and said “let’s not panic. Let’s get you in for an ultra sound” Ok..an ultrasound didn’t sound so bad. I could handle that.  She was able to get me in for an ultra sound at 1:15 that day and asked me to return right afterwards and we’d discuss the findings.

(discuss the findings? You mean we’ll discuss if I have a viable fetus or not? If I’m going to have a baby or if I’m going to have a D & C? Super. Great. I’ll be here)

I left her office, got in my car and bawled until I barfed..yet again. I was absolutely terrified and it was only 11:30. What the hell was I going to do until one?!? Fuckin worry?!? Yup, and fill my bladder per doctors orders. I went to hardees for the hot ham & cheese sandwich, curly fries and large coke I was craving and headed home to catch my beloved soaps.

I remember sitting there, on my sofa, chewing on some fries, the dog sitting next to me hoping I’d drop a fry and I remember the feeling in my gut that day as I realized that All my Children wouldn’t be coming on.

I watched in shock, and horrid disbelief as I watched the reports of the first plane hitting the tower…I shook with fear as I watched the second plane hit.

towers

My fear was accomanied by anger as I watched the third plane hit the pentagon.

Pentagon

I bawled as I watched the fourth plane in that Pennsylvania field.

remember

So many things raced through my mind…so many emotions poured out of me as I watched those people in those buildings leap to their death…..

9-11_Falling_Man

as the fire fighters kept going back into those burning buildings…

firefighters-at-9-11

as the black smoke rolled out of the pentagon. ..The streets of new York were filled with panic and covered in ash….

_Ground_Zero_02

the pentagon had a plane IN it…passangers took down that last plane..those passangers that called their loved ones from the plane and said their goodbyes and I love you’s knowing THAT would be the last time they would ever be able to.

Tom Burnett (From Minnesota) called his wife, Deena, and reportedly told her, “We’re all going to die, but three of us are going to do something” and added: “I love you, honey” before the call ended.

They did that and then they kicked some terrorist ass.  I get chills now as I think about it…the courage that had to have conquered the fear long enough to say goodbye to your wife, hang up and say “let’s roll” united with strangers with the same courage to fight back.

Let's_Roll
I headed back to the clinic for my ultra sound shaken by what I had seen (a bit suprised it took me till noon to figure out the country was being attacked) and now back to full force worry mode: heartbeat or no heartbeat.  The waiting room at the ultra sound clinic had CNN on..playing the footage of the planes flying into the twin towers and the footage of the still burning still somewhat standing buildings.  I cried as I watched the terror in the peoples eyes as they ran for their lives down that new York street with a massive cloud of ash pumeling after them.

9-11_panic

The tech called my name…”oh shit..please please please let there be a heatbreat” the tech was very nice and could sense I was scared shitless. She put that cold gooy stuff on my belly and got the wand ready and….I barfed.  Then we proceeded…there it was…a tiny little blob with a very much so beating heart.I’ll never forget the joy i felt at that moment, staring at this little blinking heart….it was beautiful…it was at that moment that I felt it…I felt…mom. I felt so much love yet so much fear as I thought about the events unfolding before my eyes..before the eyes of every person in this country.  What kind of world am I bringing a life into? What’s going to happen now? Will we even be around by the time this child is born?  I left the ultra sound clinic and went back to my OB where we discussed my due date (yes!!!!)  I left her office with my very first picture of my baby…dated 9.11.01.

1233332 182

A day I’ll never forget for joyful and painful emotions. That afternoon I reported for duty at the hospital where I worked. I remember the somber feeling…the quietness of the halls…the red puffy eyes of the nurses who had watched the days attacks just as I had.  Not much was spoken, with words, the looks in the eyes of my fellow Americans said it all.  We were all scared, worried, sad, sick with the idea of the number of lives lost, we were all shaken…but never broken. The census on first floor was low so I was able to join some of the nurses who were walking up to a memorial type service at city hall.  We walked together quietly…we stood together and cried with many others who had gathered at the service.  We stood shoulder to shoulder with strangers and held hands as fellow Americans as we prayed together….

Firemans_Flag_lg

Tell me….where were you?

→ 9 Comments

Posted in 9-11-01

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , ,

What color was my what?!

Posted on July 1, 2010 | 4 Comments

It was once said that I was lucky that I hadn’t been burnt so bad by love that Id completely given up.

Clearly a memo was missed.

I happen to think that having your “husband” cheat on you with not one but two crackwhores, in your own home, while you’re giving birth is the kinda burn that can leave an incredibly massive blister on your heart.   And that’s only part of the fire Ive endured with misplaced love.

Shit, I have an entire post dedicated to reasons that I WONT date, plus I revoked my own rights to date until I was 30.

Fuck that noise….Im done. Keeping my heart in my pocket bitches.

Mhhmmmm….thats what Ive said for the last 7 years.

I convinced myself ages ago that there would be no happily ever after for me, it was going to be me and the PIT until she turned 18 and leaves me to chase her dreams (not boys) thus leaving me….destined to be the old cat lady. I wasn’t super stoked about it or anything but I had accepted it.  Ill get a fat lazy cat and yell “GET OFF MY LAWN” like Clint Eastwood did in Gran Torino.

(Badass flick btw..)

My outlook on my future as a single momma changed with one question outta the PIT’s mouth.

“What color was your wedding dress momma?”

gown

Motherfuck. It hits me. This is gonna be interesting…..

My daughter LOVES weddings….she loves everything about weddings, the music, the food, the chicken dance, (most recently she learned the Macarana) but most of all….she LOVES the brides that look like princesses.

So….how the fuck am I going to explain my “wedding”?!?!?

“I didn’t have a wedding dress” I replied.

“Why? What did you wear to the church” the PIT inquired.

*Motherfuck*

“Ahhhhhhh….well, I didn’t get married in a church.” I said

“Well then how did you get married?!” she squealed as if implying that I had been lying this whole time & never actually had been married.
*Pssshhh I wish*

“There are lots of way to get married darling…lotsa places…its not always in a church. Some people get married on a beach or in the woods or something…” I said (yeah…like that’s helping dumbass)

“Did you get married on a beach?!” the PIT asked almost hopeful
*Way to bring up the beach stupid*sweetbeach

“No.” I said as I tried to come up with some way to make this sound not so obscured in her simple lil mind. Turns out…it cant be done. “I got married at the courthouse by the Justice of the Peace” I said with a hint of shame in my voice.

*What a LAMEASS story! How disappointing! She LOVES weddings and wedding stories and I don’t have SHIT to tell her.

“Why?” she asked

“Because” —–Yes that’s all I said. So I left out the “because I was knockered” part…itll come.

“Who was there?” asked the PIT with a very puzzled look on her face….the one that says “Im not buying this because shit momma”

“Auntie” I said

“That’s IT?! She screetched “Was nana there? Or Uncle?”

shockedpeople

*Hmmm well that would have been tough considering I got married on a Saturday and called my family on Sunday night all “Oh hey btw…..I got married yesterday soooooooooo get off my back”

“Just Auntie” I said “That’s all we wanted…just a small, personal ceremony, it was very nice” I said

*Amazing I know. I managed to say that without projectile vomiting. I took a lot of Xanax but I did it.

Ill continue to do it because the PIT loves to hear stories…even though this particular story sucked and its hard for me to talk about him without wanting to puke….she loves to hear stories.

I think Id be ripping her off pretty badly if I didnt at least attempt to tell her any stories….

I think Id be ripping us both off if I didnt at least try to love again…

→ 4 Comments

Posted in I rarely ever to never have anything nice to say...like right now, Journey to find....me, My ex's MAY have made me kinda bitter, So I fucked up...big fat friggin deal

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Rockstar mommas, world domination and even a few good MEN (I know, I was shocked too)

Posted on April 23, 2010 | 6 Comments
**For those of you who have been putting up with me over the last year as I blogged and unblogged….some of these posts are going to look firmiliar.  You’re not bonkers–they are firmiliar.  I’m going back to what I already knew—but I’m bringing new knowledge, feelings and experiences with me, adding them into the mix, shaking shit up and rocking the fuck on.  Mhmm…I slipped. Shit happens–I apparently AM human.  One fabulously bitchtastic human. Now, back to the original plan with a twist—** 

What makes a rockstar momma?

Tattoos, piercings, in your face hair do’s, a foul mouth and a criminal record?

 Is there an “official” definition for it? Beats me.

Not interested.

I’m making my own definition

 Making my own rules, marching to the beat of my own funky lil drum, rockin the shit outta this ozzy red/gwen stefani blonde hair, getting tattoos and one day……world domination.

I’m bringing some hott rockstar mommas with me too.

This picture defines what a rockstar momma is......beauty

Like this gorgeous creature… 

Each rockstar momma in this posse is unique and a rockstar in her own way. But we all share the common bond of “I’m a mother, not a damsel in distress” and that my friends, is a serious force to be reckoned with.

My rockstar momma posse is going to change the world by being honest, opinionated, respectful, caring, compassionate and not afraid to say “I fucked up. And?  I also survived.” 

We don’t judge each other or anyone else for that matter, we don’t bullshit, and we raise our children to be baby rockstars.

Not all the mommas in my rockstar posse are as “in your face” and brutally honest as I am.  Not all use fuck four times in one sentance like me.  Some of us are single mommas, some of us are married mommas…..  We all want the best for our children.  We will work together to be the change that we wish to see in the world and one day we will actually see the world change……when our rockstar babies take the stage the world will be a better place because they had kickass rockstar mommas and even in some cases….a superhero dad. 

 

Brace yourself and get ready to meet some of the most amazing rockstar mommas and dudes that are NOT dinks or douchers….EVER~

**Check out my first round draft picks in “Links to Dudes that are NOT DINKS”**

→ 6 Comments

Posted in Mission: Change the Mindset, Yes, I am the bitch you love to hate

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Revisiting my mission…

Posted on April 19, 2010 | 10 Comments

I generally keep quiet when it comes to talking about relationships shhlet’s face it…I don’t know shit about relationships

Or do I?

Depends how ya look at it I guess.

When I rip on my girlfriends (I’m always the bad friend reminding your girlfriends that they deserve better…whisper so…step up your game before approaching my friends) they look at me like “yeah yeah…says SINGLE you” and with that look I’ll generally bite my tounge and continue to bash their boyfriends in my mind.

After all, who am I to say shit about relationships.

Well, when it comes to having a successful relationship, yes, I dont know Jack shit.

 Marriage

However, when it comes to royally fucking up your life because of bad relationships, poor choices, letting it slide one to many times, hoping this is the last time he pulls that crap, crushing your soul because of you simply loved the wrong person far too much…when it comes to self destructing because of “him”…I know quite a bit.

 4xy

I can bitch and yell at my girls all I want…bust their mans balls day after day…in the end however it’s always up to them.  I was once the girl getting scolded for making excuses for the worthless turd….the one that wanted it to work so badly I overlooked things, let shit slide…believed him when he promised that this was the last time.

24

I’ve been there…I know…lemme tell ya..some shits just plain unacceptable.

I hope my daughter never forgets for a second that she deserves nothing less than the best.

I hope that by telling my stories..women will be concious of their self worth and will never settle just so they’re not alone. It’s better to be alone and true to ones self than it is to sacrafice a shred of yourself to be with him…

wo 

To thyne own self be true.

2

I’m making it my mission to be the voice that wispers to women everywhere “you deserve what you accept” and reminds them “To thyne own self be true“.

hand

The girl with the scars and souvieners to tell the stories that only further prove the lesson Ive learned to be true…….

you only deserve what you accept.

→ 10 Comments

Posted in I rarely ever to never have anything nice to say...like right now, Just because Im a mom does NOT mean I wont throat punch you, Mission: Change the Mindset

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

It’s those damn quiet nights…

Posted on April 12, 2010 | 3 Comments

Every April, after the gifts have been opened, games played, and everyone’s stuffed full of birthday cake the party winds down.

 The PIT who is hyper post- sugary frosting keeps me busy for a few hours and eventually surrenders to sleep regardless of how hard she tries to stay awake.

That’s when the “quiet nights” are the worst.

 It’s those nights I feel weakest and most vulnerable.

Knowing something is missing hurts.

 That connection….the one I thought I’d have, thought I’d never have and then almost thought I had it again…love.

Love between two people…love that is shared for each other and their children.

The quiet nights would be spent drifting to sleep safely in *his* loving arms.

Pretty simple.

 Such a simple thing goes missing and it feels like I’m missing a lung.

 It hurts to breathe. 

It aches in every inch of my body…it keeps me awake at night.

  Usually the ugly memories from the book of meth start to creep in and the pain turns to complete and total fucking anger.

  Oddly enough…I can go to sleep content with the anger & hate because although he let me down in a major fucking way…he pushed me hard enough to fight back….and win. 

 Yes, I consider riding my life & my child’s life of a drug addicted he-whoring gangbanger a bigass win.

 That doesn’t change the fact that I had intended to have that connection with him pre-meth whore.

That doesn’t change the fact that I long for that connection. 

I know that I will never, ever, ever have that connection with the sperm donor. 

Ever.

He pushed me past the point of no return. 

 So I’ll never have that connection with the man I had intend too.

For years I had accepted the fact that I was never going to have that connection with anyone ever again and I managed to keep people at bay quiet well.

  Recent years I’ve found myself missing that connection with someone more than I’ve been angry at Mr. Meth.

I’ve been angry at myself for being so damn good at keeping people away.

  Even more recent and probably why this year the quiet night hurt so badly is because I rushed into thinking that I had found someone to finally share that connection with. 

 I believed it with all my heart.

The heart I kept in my pocket letting nobody near….slipped out….and took a hit.

  Took a hit…didn’t break.

Still, enough to piss me off….at myself. 

 Stupid girl.

 Keep your heart in your pocket!

You’re exhausting yourself with this up and down crap.

Wanting it so badly can cloud a person’s judgment. 

Maybe admitting it out loud…I want that connection…I want that love….is the first adequate step I’ve taken. 

 Step two is advice I’m taking from my blogging besties Mely & Jellie.

  What I want in a man. 

 All I seem to know is what I don’t want.

It’s time to sit down and figure that out.

 Perhaps if I write down the qualities or “must haves” in a man Id start noticing them.

It would give me something new to look for in addition to wedding ring tan lines and track lines. 

 

 

→ 3 Comments

Posted in and then theres this kinda shit, Journey to find....me, Mission: Change the Mindset, so I have a heart and feelings...tell anyone and Ill kill you

Tagged , , , , , ,

Revisiting the “dad” issue

Posted on April 7, 2010 | 20 Comments
 
I wonder......
I wonder……

     

The dad issue is usually a dead issue unless the PIT is incredibly over tired and pissed at me or just having an emotional day. Her birthday is nearing and that always pulls at the heartstrings of both of us.  She wants a “mom & dad” just as bad as I want to be able to give her that but right now….we’re just not there yet.  Someday there will be someone to fill the void that was left in both of our lives but until then….I have keep my cool and my wicked tongue….bad mouthing the donor would be teaching the PIT the wrong lesson…..I keep the slander of my ex here…..for all of you to enjoy lmao but srsly…its in the kids best intrest that I keep on a blogging!       

 
I made a choice a long time ago to not bad mouth my ex husband in front of the PIT.  This choice has left me speachless in regards to the baby daddy.  I really dont have anything nice to say about him anymore.  It takes all of my strength to muster up a memory when the PIT  asks me something related to life before I was mommy.  Dont get me wrong….I have memories of my ex, not all were bad but trying to talk about them now makes me throw up in my mouth a lil bit. (I still cant say his name without filling with rage) I bite my tongue everytime she cries for him or thinks she wants him or throws a fit cause she “misses” him.   I roll my eyes & mumble under my breath “if you only knew girly if you only knew”……  I’ve had to try and explain the dad issue without telling her that he’s a worthless meth addicted gang banger somewhere in Cali. Is there a nice way to tell her the truth? I don’t think so, at least not at the age of 7. I’ve been able to get by with “your dad is doing his own thing and we’re doing ours”. When she asks if she will ever see him I just reply “anything is possible” which technically isn’t a lie. I do know that chances are pretty good she will never meet him, it is best that way. Meth addicts have no business being parents and I terminated his parental rights after he tried to kill me more than once.  Do I like the fact that Im a single parent? Somedays I do somedays I dont… Is this what I had in mind? Um no but it is what it is and Im going to do my best to make it without losing my mind (any further). Do I want the PIT to have a dad? Of course I do…..but he’s got to EARN us both.     

shhhhh

shhhhh

  

Does not exactly telling the whole story make me a liar?    

Does it make me a bad mother?Guess it all depends who you ask.  I received a lovely email from someone who feels that I am indeed the worst mother on the planet and how dare I RIP my childs father away from her.  Apparently, someone missed a post or two…..I didn’t rip shit. I ran. Theres a difference. And if what I’m doing, raising a respectful, smart, caring, kind individual is wrong and makes me a bad mother then good.  The intriguing little creature is turning out quite nicely thanks to my bad solo parenting skills.  As far as change…I dont care.  Look, you try to kill your wife in a methbinge rage then you don’t get to be around children. Not even if you donated your DNA. Lesson to be learned here: Dont try to kill baby mama.

→ 20 Comments

Posted in and then theres this kinda shit, I like to bitch.ALOT, I rarely ever to never have anything nice to say...like right now, Just because Im a mom does NOT mean I wont throat punch you, My ex's MAY have made me kinda bitter, NEWSFLASH: Im a bitch, So I fucked up...big fat friggin deal

Tagged , , , , , , ,

She misses her what?

Posted on April 6, 2010 | 6 Comments

As I said before…terminating Mr Meths parental rights is one choice I’ve always been certain was right.  However, being right doesn’t mean there isn’t a little heartbreak here & there…….

“Momma?” she said in a quiet tone.

I turned to look at her and she had tears in her eyes…she started to bawl

“I really miss my daddy” she sobbed.  “I haven’t seen him since I was a baby and I think about him a lot” she says “I just really miss my daddy”

My heart breaks every time we do this.

6heart

I scooped her up in my arms and squeezed her tightly as she continued to cry.  As always, I started to tear up, it kills me to see her so sad and upset.  It pisses me off so fucking much to watch this little girl cry her eyes out over that worthless fuck.

I can feel it creeping back in…the anger, the hate, the pure disgust I have for that man.  How dare you break her fucking heart like this! For what fucko?! Meth!?! “ I hope you choke on the next hit you take bitch” I think to myself “I fucking hate you”.  My gut aches as I fill with anger….my heart breaks as my child cries in my arms, as her tears run down my chest one tiny shattered piece of my heart runs down with it.

tears fall

She looks up at me with teary eyes and asks “Don’t you miss daddy?”

UUMMMMMM…….FUCK!

Do I miss the man that I divorced?  The man who cheated on me in MY house while I was giving birth, the motherfucker who threatened me and tormented me with his insane ways once he discovered meth, the man who warned me to sleep with one eye open, the man that I was so terrified of that I literally slept with you next to me every night so I was sure he wasn’t going to take you from me? The man that looked at me, cold and empty, and asked “how do I know you’re not fucking wired?!”  No…..I don’t miss him one fucking bit. In fact the thought of him makes me want to vomit….the thought of him fills me with so much rage I honestly think I could rip his face off if given the opportunity.  How the hell could I miss THAT?!  I also don’t miss the person that I was when I was “married” to him.  Scared, hurt, bitter (more bitter than I currently am), depressed, hating myself…..I don’t miss any of that.  I wish I could erase all of those memories that haunt me….just wipe em out.  If I didn’t remember it so well, if I didn’t still feel a bit scared, if I wasn’t constantly looking over my shoulder…..maybe this “missing daddy” thing wouldn’t be as hard.

Yeah right….I don’t think anything could make this kinda thing any easier.

Although, thanks to a very wise and caring man, I was reminded of one simple fact that did indeed help.  I may know who he was, who he became, the things (and whores) he did…..the PIT doesn’t.  She doesn’t actually miss Mr Meth because she never knew him…..she just knows that theres a void in her life where her daddy should be….

I can be the most awesomest momma ever in the world

rockstar000

and its not going to fill that “daddy” void.

I have to accept that theres nothing I can do about that.

Missing is a natural emotion and having a dad is a natural thing so of course shes going to miss having a dad.  I cant fix that….mostly because its not broken.  Its natural….part of life….a test of my strength.

154

I may hate Mr Meth but the PIT has no idea that I do.  I intend to keep it that way.

I wont spew my hatred for that assclown on my child….thats what you’re here for.

Thank you~

→ 6 Comments

Posted in I rarely ever to never have anything nice to say...like right now, My ex's MAY have made me kinda bitter, So I fucked up...big fat friggin deal

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

There’s more to being a dad than DNA

Posted on April 5, 2010 | 12 Comments

Mhmm, this post is Chapter 9 in the Book of Meth. A repeat I know. However, I like this one….to this day I KNOW I made the right choice going to court that day.

A recent post from the lovelys over at Singlemommyhood (yeah thats right-we have our own hood) reminded me that is more to being a dad than DNA….it feels good to have legal documentation of that now.

 

 

Get rid of him…..

Turns out that terminating parental rights is not an easy feat. The courts WANT parents to be involved and responsible for their children. Duh. Who doesn’t want that? What happens when one of the parents turns into a flaming douchebag by becoming a psycho meth addicted loser? Then what judge? You want me to sit here and hope and pray with all of my being that he never shows up ever again? Ah yeah fucking right. I refuse to accept that. If you don’t WANT your child, well then, fuck you. Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on your way out homie. And a meth addict who is notorious for his over the top “I’m gonna getcha” shit?!?! Nope. Not gonna happen.
When mr meth called me that night and begged me to terminate his rights….I was like a kid on Christmas morning! I was living in the city not the same place I got the divorce so first I tried to locate a local lawyer.

First lawyer was a prick and told me that I should be ashamed of myself for trying to get rid of him instead of helping him. I in return was an equal prick and told him that I was already plenty ashamed of myself but not for this…I went on to tell this attorney, who I didn’t know, nor did I need to spill my guts too, that I didn’t owe that son of a bitch anything and if I really wanted to get rid of him I’d hire a fucking hitman and not an attorney! All I was trying to do was protect my daughter from a meth addicted gang banger with a violent fuckin history! Is that really so much to ask?! I told the attorney that HE should be ashamed of himself for judging people so quickly, without knowing the whole story.  “A quick tognue will slit your own throat if you’re not careful” I told him before hanging up to sob. 

I went to plan B……the wonderful attorney who helped me throught the divorce.  Problem was….she was in a different county and we werent sure which county I would have to proceed in.  Since my ex husband had a long history of trouble with the law in the county where I was divorced we wanted to proceed there….I had already been before this judge for the divorce and my ex was before the same judge to be sentanced for drugs….the judge knew the story so I thought maybe that would help my case.  Nope, I thought wrong.  My case wasnt going to be easy but I had already come this far so there was no way in hell I was stopping until his name was OFF her birth certificate.  I didnt know what kinda trouble he was in and I didnt want to….I just wanted him GONE. 

My lawyer and I worked for three months to prepare the case.  How hard could it be to build a case against a gangbanger really?!

First, mr meth had “abandoned”  the PIT in the courts eyes.  He had been gone out of the PIT’s life since she was 15 months old and at this time she was nearing her 3rd birthday.  Mr Meth had made no contact (except for threats on my life) with the PIT. He left town that day after getting the divorce papers and never saw her again. No letters, cards, calls…..nada.

Second, Mr Meth was behind in child support payments to the tune of $20,000 and had never made a payment ever, nor was there any hope of him getting a job given his serious lack of motivation and current drug abuse.  I was busting my ass to survive on my own, without child support and without any sort of public assistance, without anything. Shit I even paid for the kids overpriced health insurance on my own and lived on microwave popcorn! 

Third, Mr meth requested this termination because of his gang involvement.  He had a long history of trouble with the law so proving he was a loser wasnt to hard.  I had the court papers of his last violent arrest, the restraining order from my divorce (which was valid for 8 years…thank you) and his own admission of gang and drug involvment. 

It was clear Mr Meth was not father material. This should have been easy.  Instead, I had to meet with the social service people so they could see how I interacted with the PIT and to see that she was well taken care of. Ummm im sorry but what the fuck?! Make him prove something!! I birthed the child and I have been caring for her MYSELF since day one! My lawyer advised me to shut my mouth and jump through the hoops the courts were going to put me through. I KILLS me to shut my mouth by the way. But I did. I jumped through every stupid hoop and met with every social workers they sent to me and I smiled through every interview, the whole time I really just wanted to tell them that this “system” was a bogus fucking mess. 

Finally, my day came and I was heading to court to present my case.  I threw up in the lawyers office before we left. I was just a lil bit nervous apparently!  My mom and my dad both came to the court with me….I was so glad that they did.  As I cried my eyes out on the stand as I relived the nightmare that Mr Meth had made my life and begged the judge to sign the order….I felt stronger with my parents there. (Thank you both)  As I sat on the stand all teary eyed, the judge looked at me and said “How do you know he isnt just trying to get out of child support?” 

“I dont care. I dont care about the child support…Ive never recieved any so how could I miss it?! I dont recieve any assistance from tax payers at all nor do I intend to. I dont see what the court cares about the stupid child support order!” I yelled. I was so frustrated…..so angry…..WHY was this not an open and shut case?!?! ”Im not doing this out of spite or to get back at him or anything like that your honor. I AM SCARED of this man. I am terrified that he is going to take my child from me again….like he did that day when I almost ripped his face right off. Together we are monsters who will fight to the death. I just want this nightmare to stop. I want to be mommy. I have a gorgeous little girl who NEEDS and deserves her mother….a mother who is not living in fear.  Please your honor,” i said as I bawled…..”Please help me“

The judge handed me a tissue, leaned back in his chair…..he told me that he hoped I had learned a lesson about running with the “wrong crowd” and that in the future I should pick my baby daddys a bit better.

Ok…that kick in the teeth is duely noted sir.  Thank you for pointing out the obvious.  

Finally he signed the order terminating Mr Meths parental rights, changed the PITs name and my last name….ordered a new birth certificate and sent me on my way. 

I was exhausted but giddy! Had I really just accomplished that?! Holy SHIT! WoooHOOOO!! That was the best feeling in the world……I fought my ass off for my girl and I WON. The nightmare that I had been living finally came to an end in 2005. The PIT and I were free of Mr Meth!!

*Currently maintain NO contact with Mr Meth what so ever. I attempted to make nice with his family when the PIT was wondering why she looked like she should speak spanish but it didnt last long. We’re good with why she looks like she would speak spanish. His family and I didnt see eye to eye on alot of things and I am not the kinda girl to bend for someone if I just dont want
to. Mr Meth is still cracked out in Cali last I knew….has a new baby now…super…glad your winky still works and that youre still irresponsible enough to reproduce….(I revoked my own rights to reproduce after the book of meth and had my tubes tied. I made a mess the first time around..no need to repeat!) Anywhooo—-the PIT and I are together, we’re happy, healthy and ready to take on the world!!

→ 12 Comments

Posted in I rarely ever to never have anything nice to say...like right now, Just because Im a mom does NOT mean I wont throat punch you, NEWSFLASH: Im a bitch, The Book of Meth

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , ,