Book of Meth

Chapter One…..The man I met….   

We were 17 when we first met. I had seen him around school but never actually met him until we were both at a  friends wedding. From that day in October on we were inseperable. He made me laugh…Oh we used to have a good time..he was my first love love. When I was with him, the way that he looked at me…I could feel that he loved me….we were so right for each other.  We went to school together, graduated, got jobs and bought our first home together. We hung out and never tired of each others company. We could stay up all night talking about everything from his childhood in Laos, our inadequate relationships with our parents and our future, which when we talked about our future we were on the same page. He knew I wanted a career more than I wanted children. We talked about it alot actually. He said that i should get my butt back to school.. He knew i wanted to be an attorney just so i could argue in a skirt and prove someone wrong. We worked and we saved, we had plans…we had plans. He knew I struggled with depression and self doubt, he could read me like no other. If I was pissed he knew it first just by the way I wrinkled my forehead that one certain way. He could sense a breakdown coming on and was always there to hold me while I cried, and just let me cry because he knew that sometimes, I just needed to cry it out. As the tears fall from my eyes as I write this, I have to admit, just this once, that I miss having someone to hold me while I cry it out. I hate that I miss it..it hurts to miss it. There I said it….wiping tears…deep breath and moving on…   

It was simple, peaceful, stable and steady for 6 outta the 7 years. I can honestly say that I was in love and I was happy. I also knew that he loved me. We both worked, shared the responsibility of the house and we genuinely were equals. He never made me feel inferior, in fact he praised me. He encouraged me. He understood me and tolerated me thru depression and anxiety. He pushed me..to never give up… Never surrender. “Fight your ass off for yourself baby cause you are worth it he used to say”…he would bring me flowers for no reason and tell me I was beautiful. I remember one morning I woke up and he was laying next to me, staring at me, he grinned and said “you are so beautiful. I’m so lucky to love you” what? Lucky to love me?! Shit …. What an idea! We said “I love you” before we hung up with one another, he always planted a kiss on my cheek before he would dash out the door to work.  He gave me confidence and encouragement…just what I needed. He was my rock, such a huge part of my life that without him my world would crumble…I did indeed crumble… my whole entire life crumbled around me.   

Thats what pisses me off the most….how did I let someone ruin me? Everything that we had, that we had worked for and all of our plans had just been been blown the fuck outta the water. How did I become so dependant on someone….someone that I was clearly wrong about? I hated myself for that. Sometimes, I still do.   

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Chapter Two….”Meet meth….the end of your happily ever after.”    

I was about 5 months pregnant when the foundation on which my steady yet fragile life started to shift.  We got married in January 2002 at the local courthouse one Saturday afternoon…can you sense the joy? Well theres a good reason I wasnt your average giddy princess bride.    

One: I was knocked up thus refusing to wear a dress or anything similar.     

Two: I was only getting married so that my family would finally shut up. Maybe they never even realized that they were making me feel like the scum if the earth for not only being knocked up and unmarried but knocked up and unmarried to a foreigner….ugh…the disappointment was more than obvious to me.  I felt it every time my father would say things like “Being married before the baby is born would be best.  Dont want your baby in the bastard file do ya?” Hmmmm…bastard file dad? Nice…friggin jerk.  My mom never made it as clear that she was moritified by my choices…she was more sumbtle.  She just avoided telling people until it was obvious…and she was living in Washington so I think that not actually seeing me might have helped.     

 I never told my parents my plans to get married that Saturday. Only my bestie April came with me..she knew i didnt want to be there. She questioned what the hell I was doing but I insisted this was for the best. She stood by me as I made one hell of a mistake in just under 15 minutes and she stood by me everyday after that and helped me pick up the pieces of what she knew was my broken dream…a simply dream of a loving husband. Eh….I called my parents on Sunday. They were mad…and probably mostly disappointed.  I didnt care…I was so depressed I just wanted to shut the world out.  fuck it I said…again…    

We had been married for 2 whole weeks before he started to change. First he was working double shifts almost everyday. Then he just started not showing up for a day or two, then a week and then two… When I confronted him about it he was instantly defensive and yelled…he never yelled at me before..odd I thought to myself. But then just as I noticed the change in him, my pregnancy was complicated with preterm labor. I was only 26 weeks along the first time it happened. 26 weeks! I was crazy with pregnancy hormones, my husband was acting like someone I had never met and now I was terrified that I was going to lose my baby.    

Stick a fork in me…I’m done…yeah right. I was nowhere near done, in fact it had barely begun.
I was put on strict bedrest at 26 weeks. I went from working full time in a busy hospital to laying on the couch watching the soap opera channel (which looking back, watching soaps when you’re full of pregnancy hormones is not a good idea) soaps, movies and Maury filled my day for the most part. You would think that having this time alone would make me wonder what was causing these changes in my husband….but I didnt really…I worried about the baby. That little tiny life inside me was all that mattered…she needed me to take care of her. She was tiny and defenseless…he was a grown man perfectly capable of making decent decisions if he wanted to…There was however this lingering wonder and frequent worry. Thoughts like…. “where is he? What is he doing? What the fuck just happened here?!?” filled my head and made my guts ache…. each day that passed I became more and more pissed off at him.    

What the hell was he thinking? What was going on?! We talked about this for years before I got pregnant…having a dad matters. He said so himself! He wanted kids and lots of em..what the hell! Now I was pregnant with his child, his opportunity to be the father he had always wanted and wanted to be….what the fucking fuck?!    

I got a call from a friend who’s husband was friends with mine one day. “you need to come over. NOW” hmmmm…she never demands me to do anything…she was furious and clearly needed to talk…so I went. She had just found a little red rock that was apparently meth in her hubbys car. when she confronted her hubby he said the lil red rock belonged to my hubby. Fucking saweeet..
I didnt know a rock of meth from a hole in the ground….I knew little about this drug terrible little drug that one addict even referred to as “sucking the devils dick”….I don’t even know exactly what that’s supposed to mean but regardless, it does not sound good. I researched a little bit about the drug but was lost at the on ramp apparently…..super energy, no need for food or sleep?!? Why would anyone want a drug that would do that?! I like to eat and sleep and I’m more than ok with my motivational deficiency so the idea of using meth is completely obsurred to me. I don’t get the motive. Not to mention the fun side effects like hallucinations, paranoia, sore that never heal because you are so fuckin certain that there is indeed something in your arm and it’s going to kill you if you don’t dig it out immediatley even if you have to dig it out with a fork…sounds like fun ey?!    

Everything I read about meth scared me, every story I’d listen to about how people just cannot quit this shit and everytime I’d see another meth head that used to be someone I knew but now…well now they were like the walking dead, it made me gutwrenchingly ill. And now my husband was among those making me ill.   He was the paranoid freak and when he looked at me his eyes were empty.  I once refused to take him to the ER (where i had been working) because he was so convinced that there was something in his eyeball that he had dug a nasty gash into his own eyeball to get NOTHING out!  When he would drag his sorry ass home I would immediatley demand answers..he would immediatley become defensive and a nasty fight was soon to follow only ending when one of us stormed out of the house. When I was pregnant it was usually him leaving, I threw alot of household objects at him…hormones I tell ya! We went around and around like this, constant fighting all the time throughout the rest of my pregnancy. It got to the point where I preferred him not to show his face in what we once called our home. I was pissed. Along with that I was depressed. I hated being pregnant, I wanted to run but how could I run with child? Where would I go? My parents who were the main reason we even got married had no idea what was going on. My mom was living in washington and my dad…hmm..he barely acknowledges me to this day so he didn’t notice. I was far to stubborn to tell them I was in over my head. Funk that noise! I knew they were just dying to say “told ya not to date those foreigners”!! I couldn’t stand to hear “told ya so” or the disappointment in my mothers voice if I told them the truth. So…I just pretended when my mom called. Pretended everything was fine, my hubby was working and helping me as a hubby should..I told her what I thought she wanted to hear….lied to her. Lied to my dad too…everything was just frickin dandy folks:) no biggie that my hubby has discovered that it’s more fun to do meth than me or that I’m 99% sure he’s banging a high school chick…everything is just fine. The depression took over and I blocked the reality of the disgusting mess of a life with a methhead quite well. I focused on my baby…that’s all. Fuck the house, fuck this marriage, fuck this town…I was going to make sure this baby was healthy and loved. Nothing else mattered. Nothing  

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Chapter Three

In addition to lying to my parents and everyone around me, I was lying to myself. What the hell did I think was gonna happen?! I still get furious with myself…banging my head against the wall screaming how did you NOT see this coming fucktard?!? How? Depression that’s how. And yes, my own poor judgement.  I accept responsibilty for my actions….my choices….my failure to see the headlights of the on coming truck that was about to rip threw my life.   

I managed to lie to my parents thru my pregnancy (note..it kills me to say “I lied to my mother” but claiming that I simply  ”pretended” would just be sugar coating the shit truth and I’m not one to sugar coat shit..my own blog  is no execption to the expectation of honesty) I went on lying that everything was super…in reality…oh the reality fucking sucked!
The reality was this..I was going into labor early. If that kept up, my child could die. So I avoided my meth addicted husband whenever possible like avoiding a stalker. Not a fun endeavour when your pregnant. I knew he was so into meth by the time I found out that I knew he wasn’t coming back. No rehab, no jailtime no tough love was gonna save his ass now. I remember the night I had to accept the harsh reality that the man I met, fell in love with and made a life with was essentially dead. He was gone. There standing in front of me that night was a pale, skinny fidgity meth addict with no soul..nothing in his cold eyes as he looked right at me, his eyes glaring at me in such a way I was actually scared of him…this fuckin monster who just stood there in my kitchen and said “how do I know you’re not fucking wired?!?!” that was the day I felt like a widow.   

Got a bit off track with that rant, my apologies…I would deleted it but I cried and shook with anger yet again as I relived that in my mind…but this time it felt like I was getting bigger than the anger. I kept telling @taytayllamalady that I don’t wanna let go of shit because what is left wihout the anger? The pain?! I wasn’t having it….until now. Thank you @taytayllamalady! You were right, you wretched whore! I love your guts!   

Ok..back on track…for real this time!   

Again I find myself trying to decide where to start. There are millions of memories flooding me right now…
As my pregnacy progressed so did him addiction and his radical behavior. Early in April 2002 I heard from someone who heard it from someone who heard it from someone that when my hubby was missing a few weeks earlier, no where to be found when I went to the hospital in labor…again…alone, he was out of town with a blonde chick still in high school. Fuckin tits! As if I needed any more shit to hit the fan! So hormonal pregnant very angry me confronted my hubby who was now in my eyes a whore. I smacked him right in the face. Threw a huge fit and threw him out.
April 9th…I’m still quite pissed about the whole whore incident. I was also due to birth a child any day now..didhwt stop me from chasing the blonde bitch that day when I saw her? Nope.  Not even for a second.  I caught a glimpse of her in her car, I was also in my car with a friend. I hit the gas, that was that…I was telling this bitch what was up. (Um newsflash dumbass..your hubby was banging a high school chick. Thats what was up) I tracked her down in her in her friends driveway.  She never got out of her car. Not even after I smashed her face into her own steering wheel. I was FURIOUS! How fucking dare she! I warned her in no uncertain terms to stay the fuck away from my husband or feel the wrath of the bitch that is me and I left.  I went home still furious…shaking with anger.  By midnight I was in labor.  By 1am I was able to track down the worthless turd who was nice enough to show up earlier in the evening and scold me for yelling at the blonde bitch and then he took my car. So I kinda needed the jerk to get to the hospital.  Fun fun.    

April 10th at 1040 am I welcomed my daughter into the world.  The pale corpse-ish thing was there too but only physically.  His soul was already gone.  Shortly after she was born, he left. I didnt care…..I held my baby. Hour after hour..I just held her.  I looked at her and I bawled….”it wasnt supposed to be this way” I cried….I apologized to her over and over again…I hated myself because I knew she would never have her daddy.  I hated myself because I knew she deserved better than me.    

April 12th  Discharge day! Hours before being released I recieved a call from a friend.  “The blonde bitch. Her car is in your driveway.  Its been there all night.”  Talk about a low fucking blow!  That was that…rock fucking bottom.  I was pissed. More pissed than I had ever been.  How fucking dare you….after all Ive been through….game on. BOTH of them were on the top of my shit list.  

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Chapter Four

As a wife, I was devestated…crushed beyond recognition. You cheat, we’re done.  As a mother, however, I was fierce and ready to protect my child. This little tiny person, this precious little girl and I had just worked rather hard to get to this point in case you hadn’t noticed while you were hitting the crack pipe and getting your dick sucked…we could have died! Woulda taken him 2 weeks to even notice if we had died…in between meth binges I suppose. Fuckin jerk. Get the fuck out! Out of my house, out of my life out of my childs life..get the fuck out! Shoulda been simple right? You cheat=you leave…duh.
Apparently it wasn’t that simple when dealing with a meth head. He wasn’t going anywhere if you asked him, even though I would repeatedly chase him out and had already disposed of most of his clothes and what not. Dispite the fact that I told him daily that I hated him for what he had done and often reminded him that he was not a father, he was an addict. There was also the minor, tiny detail of me lying my ass off to everyone around me…my family, my friends, my coworkers…noone knew because I wouldn’t let them. (I want to make that clear. I wasn’t alone, I had people who would have helped if they had known. I can’t explain it…it feels like “I’m never alone, I’m alone all the time” noones fault but my own. I was just to ashamed to confess that I had been wrong)    

My mom was flying home to meet her grand-daughter 2 days after we got home from the hospital. 2 days after I discovered my husband was not only a meth addict but also a whore….terrific! My mom had no clue I was in trouble. She came and I never told her…..if he wasnt around I would say he was visiting his family or working.  I was exhausted and depressed and just didnt want to deal with anything but my baby.  My mom made me put the baby down and take a nap…she could see that I was exhausted and could probably see that I was in trouble but she never said anything.  My mom avoids conflicts….shes a kind, gentle, trusting woman and I am her opposite…I seek out a fight usually…she didnt want to fight with me…i was vicious when provoked.  She gracefully helped me over the next few days.  She helped me with house stuff…not just my laundry and such…no no…my mom rolled up her sleeves and went to work! (thank you mom!) She made minor repairs around the house, cleaned it and helped me with the baby. All the while, she probably knew something was up but she had no idea what she was in for either.  

The first Sunday of the PITs life was also my grandparents anniversary:) The whole family got together. My aunts, my uncles, my cousins…all of em….we all gathered together to celebrate granny franny and granpa hobie being together for 6 million years and to welcome our mewest member….my daughter.  Oh how my grandpa loved my little girl….instant bond. Ill never forget the my they looked at each other. Its was perfect..  

Except, my family had no idea my husband was a meth addicted whore or that I had thrown him out of the house and wanted a divorce.  I wasnt ready to admit that I was in trouble I guess so…..I drug his sorry ass with me and tried my best to play a happy family. Wasnt too hard….he had and fell asleep. It was easy to ignore him and everyone asumed that he was just exhausted from the work of being a new daddy….dont I wish!  I ignored him and went on ooooing and aahhhing over my new baby with my ready to spoil the baby aunties~ it rocked. I loved watching my grandparents with the PIT. My grandpa always had to hold her:) and granny franny would say “well isnt she sweet” I can still hear her to this day…..I love it. Im so grateful for those memories…..  

At the end of what I thought was a perfect day, he dropped a bomb on me.  “I think I dropped something at your grammas” he said.  

“Something? Like what? Your pocket?” I asked.  

Nope…apparently he had brought a rock of meth with him to my grandparents celebration. How thoughtful. He carried his my baby in one arm and meth in his pocket. You fuckin idiot.  And then you dropped it?! Christ on a bicycle do you have any idea what my mother is going to think?! I filled with fear and anger and I smacked him. Right in the face. Told him I hated more than I ever had and he left. I sat home that night holding my beautiful little girl, rocking her, crying, feeling like such a failure. Knowing that someone would find his rock….praying it wouldnt be my cousins…I was so terrified I didnt know what to do.   

My mother took care of that the next day…..she came over and she was clearly upset/bothered.  She asked if we wanted to go to WalMart. Sure….I loaded up the PIT and we went shopping.  (WalMart was our best option in the small town where I lived) That day she started to cry as she asked me if I was in trouble….if he was in trouble. She told me how she found this rock at my grammas….under the chair he had been napping in. She didnt know what it was but she knew it was bad….and she said in a panic she flushed it….she must have known it was his.  Should would have been just as ashamed as I was to have the meth addict for a son in law…..so we kept quiet.  But the silence between us was finally broken. I finally was able to tell her most of what was going on. I left out the whore part…until right now:) My friend came over and the three of us talked…it helped a bit but honestly I was so depressed there was nothing anyone could say to make me feel better.  My mom had to fly back to Washington a few days later…probably killed her to leave me and the baby but she held it together and go on the plane.   

I braced myself for war….war with an addict.  

  

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Chapter Five.   

Leaving my seriously meth addicted husband turned into a battle to survive. Hormonal, depressed, angry and ashamed of what my marriage had become so I shut down. The only thing that got me out of bed in the morning was knowing that my baby needed me. In all honesty, if I had not been her mother, I don’t believe I would have made it out alive. It was the lowest I had ever been but being momma out weighed it all. I wasn’t sure if my husband was going to kill me or if I was. It’s scarey to admit but it’s the truth.  

 
I had thrown my husband out repeatedly. I also let him back more than once thinking “I have to know that I gave it my all”. Turns out I gave more than my all but I needed to know that. We fought all the time, loud nasty fights. He would randomly show up at my house and just waltz in like we were the fuckin klevers. That seriously annoyed the piss outta me. How dare you not acknowledge the misery you have created you miserable jerk! Instant fight. Then there were times when he would break in thru a basement window….usually when I was at work but sometimes while I was sleeping. He would break in and take my keys and then I would be stranded in the morning with no car. Called the police once but you can’t report a car stolen by your own husband that you have no restraining order against…also you can only get a restraining order against your meth addict hubby, at no cost if he physically hurts you. If he hasn’t hit you yet it costs around $200. Terrific for a broke ass new mother who is terrified that her husband is going to kill her and or take the baby. Cough up the money you don’t have to protect yourself or hope he just wants to smack you around a bit and not beat the life right outta ya…rather limited options dontcha think?! I didn’t have the money to get the restraining order that would have prevented him from repeatedly breaking in my house to shower or steal my car..so feeling helpless and like I deserved every bit of chaos I got..the depression got worse.   

Although the depression increased and my life felt more outta control than ever, I was loving motherhood. She was my purpose.  My daughter is what got me through the depression. She was a happy and healthy baby and I was so grateful, so in love and so ready to leave her “father”.
Mr Meth grew increasingly more aggressive as I tried to keep him at a distance. Meth can seep through a persons pores and cause an irritation on a baby skin. Sorry suckah…you’re not holding her. Get sober and we will talk. Get sober..yeah right. By this time he had been fired from his job and was unable to get a new job since he wasn’t able to pass a drug or criminal check. He made one bad choice after another once he was unemployed…..He gambled alot…won at first but then as it always seems to…his luck turned. Soon he owed people money. Lots of money. Then he started selling meth, which as we all know, an addict cannot be a dealer. Soon he owed the drug lords. I noticed one night when I was getting the PIT in her jammies that her piggy bank seemed a bit thin. Sure shit..that dirty fool stole money from a childs piggy bank. Money I hadn’t been able to put in the bank since someone kept stealing my car. Furious and quite frankly repulsed by his thieving I confronted him. He gave me some sob story about how he owed this one and that one and if he could just pay these off that would be it…honest. Nope not even close.   

By the time I went back to work I was completely and totally broke. He had taken every cent we had in savings and maxed out our credit cards with cash advances. I had nothing left and no net. What the fuck?! All I did was give birth! This fuckin jerk was ruining everything. Couldn’t he just fall off the face of the earth already?! Just go away. I bet I said that to him ten thousand times. Why don’t they just go away?!
I went back to work and bawled because I was leaving my baby. I was also terrified that he would snatch her when noone was looking. I needed a damn good sitter/body guard. The Lord sent me an angel in the form of Desi and Karla. Desi and Karla were a mother daughter duo that lived across the street from me. Desi was the best sitter, friend, and assistant a newly single momma could have ever had:) I worked second shift at the hospital but Desi didn’t mind watching the PIT until midnight. She was so helpful and I am forever grateful to her…you have no idea how much you helped me!
Desi also knew the situation with my husband. She was caring and alert and never seemed to mind the drama I was dragging with me.
The drama was getting worse. We would fight until I would pack up the baby and leave. Or until he would throw something and then I would throw something bigger…all the while thinking “is this gonna be the time he snaps?” I changed the locks on the house (which didn’t stop him from going thru a window) and got rid of the car. I couldn’t afford it and he kept stealing it so I went to the dealer with my big momma boobs (like my marriage..didn’t last) and a low cut top with my baby on my hip and I bawled. Told this stranger at the car dealer my whole story..my husband was a meth whore, I was broke, no chance of getting out anytime soon so please take this car back. The dealer did indeed take the car back, bought it from me technically so I owed nothing. That was a huge relief but I bawled all the way home. Why was I losing everything because he was being a douche?! I was so angry…I still am. He turned my world upside down and my head was spinning.
After my brother graduated he moved in with the PIT and I. He kept my husband away for the most part. There was the one night where the meth head declared that he was going to sit on my front steps until I took him back. I called the police but they said that since it was still technically his house too there was nothing they could do. Fine…don’t help me. My brother was ready to protect his sister and his niece, but I couldn’t risk him going to jail…so when he left (to find a big stick to beat mr meth with I suppose) I smacked mr meth with a brick. I was done. Done fighting, done repeating myself that I hated him just done. A brick to the face didn’t do much damage but he did leave after one more failed attepmt to “hug his wife” ewww don’t touch me mr nasty ass…one more slap, punch and push and he finally left.
I was exhausted…just wanted out. To my relief he went to jail 2 weeks before the PITs first Christmas. To my relief he was gone, I didn’t have to see is increasingly thin face. To my dispair…my first Christmas as a wife and as a mother..was nowhere even remotely close to what I had hoped.

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Chapter 6 in the book of meth…..  

Mid December 2002 and it had been a week or two with no sign of mr meth. I was releaved but curious…”did he finally overdose? Was he shot in a lame attempt to over throw the drug cartel?” I thought to myself.  But wasn’t curious enough to check the hospitals or morgues so I carried on about my business of being a full time single mom and full time lippy HUC at the hospital. (ps–WRH nurses…you ROCK!)  

Being momma effing ROCKED:) the PIT was about 8 or 9 months old and her personality was amazing. She was bright eyed, full of smiles and “cheesy grins”, curious and never ever stopped moving, ever. (to this day she still hasn’t) I loved waking up every morning to her big brown eyes, bald lil face and baby babble:) Also during this time she took her first steps! Right before Christmas she took off after the dog, her first steps were to keep the dogs toy away from the dog! That was the only day in her life that she walked. She has been running since!! (Maybe another lil marathon runner in the family Erika! )  

Shortly after new year I swear she looked at auntie April, tugged at her name tag and said “what is that?” aunite and I looked at each other stunned!  

“Did she? Did she just ask what is that!?” April said..  

“Beats the hell outta me?! Up until now the only word that has been even remotely understandable has been SHIT!” I said almost yellingscreaching like I do when I’m in awe!  

Yup…from that day on all I heard was “what is that?” , “momma”, “shit” and “no”. Best feeling ever….being a mom…watching this little person become a person.
My motherly bliss was clouded by the disaster my marriage had become. It was right before Christmas when auntie aprils little sister, Heather, showed up at my door. Odd…why is heather here? I mean heathers like my own little sister and is always welcome but she rarely came over. She’s a homebody like me! I was getting the PIT in her feety jammies when heather came over. She came in and I could tell in her gorgeous eyes that there was trouble. Heather told me that she received a collect call from mr meth. (I blocked collect calls..I told him more than once “don’t call me when you get busted your ass can sit there”) apparently he wasn’t going to just sit there. Oh no he was gonna get through to me and I would come get him….ah yeah right dude. Shortly after heather left (and I had thanked her for the update and advised her to not accept anymore calls) my phone rang. It was Karen, my step dads sister. Karen also received a collect call from mr meth. Fucking sweet, so right before Christmas no only is my husband in jail but now my whole family has to know, shit more than my family, my step dads family?! What the shit?! It’s not like mr meth and I were close to Karen…we saw her at holidays and what not but for christs sake I wouldn’t even call her from jail! Who knows why he felt the need to call her! Desperation I suppose. In addition to mr meth calling my friends and family collect from jail, he was calling me at the hospital where I worked. Are you fucking kidding me?! Why don’t you write it in the fucking sky “I’m in jail…leaving my wife and child alone for their first Christmas because I’m an idiot” Jesus! He may not have had a problem with his current residence but I sure as shit did!  When I discovered that he had been calling me at work I immediatley called the jail where he was and DEMANDED that his phone priviliges be taken away. Idiot…how dare you call me at work…..a HOSPITAL! The person on the other line chuckled and said “for how long would you like them revoked maam?”   

“For the duration of his stay” I replied. I hung up the phone and marched upstairs to the hospital administators office where I had to explain that the collect calls on the hospitals next phone bill were because of me.  I bawled….again (i hate crying).  The hospital administrator was very kind to me and he put his hand on my shoulder and said very softly “I understand. Its not a problem. Noone is mad at you” A breathed a sigh of relief and went back to work.  The nurses I worked with were all very sweet and so supportive.  Most of them knew what was going on and most of them knew that I did not want to talk about it. (I NEVER wanna talk about it) They stood by and provided me with a secure net of mothers, woman and nurses all ready to catch me just as my bestie April would have….if I would have just let them in.   

I was depressed, stressed and now even more mortified than before because now EVERYONE knew. The humiliation was insane. Why was I so humiliated? I wasnt a meth head! Inside I just felt like such a failure. Failure as a wife, mother, person, I doubted everything about myself. I wanted to crawl in a hole and die. I believed with all my being that the PIT would in fact be better off with someone else….she deserved better than a crackhead dad and a depressed mother.  I bawled myself to sleep every night.  

Christmas was just around the corner and my mom was flying in from Washington:) My mom had already discovered my husbands problem…catch that story here….. but now we were going to have to tell the WHOLE family. My grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins would wonder where mr meth was….I knew they would find out…I was terrified of the humiliation I was certain I was going to feel.  

We went to Christmas and I over heard my mom and her brother talking….  

“Wheres Jai?” asked my uncle.  

“Hes not coming.” replied my mother  

“Why” asked my uncle  

“Well, him & criss are having so trouble. I dont think she will keep him around.” my mom told her brother.  That was all….very graciously stepped around my humiliation (thank you mom)  

“Oh, well Criss is fine without him. Shes a tough kid…they (the PIT & I) will be just fine” said my uncle.  

What?!?!? I would be just fine?! Did he really believe that?! Why couldnt I believe it? Why was I convinced that I was doomed?!  

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Chapter Six

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!!! 

 
I 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…. 

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Chapter 8 in the book of meth……  

I had the house on the market, sold my car back to the dealer, had the restraining order and now all I needed was a divorce to make this nightmare of a marriage offically and legally over. And then a fairy godmother to get me the hell outta this town so my daughter and I could start fresh.  

First things first. Divorce. Hmmmmm how is a clearly poor single mother supposed to pay for a divorce?  

I have no idea…thankfully my gramma stepped up on afternoon and said “if I pay for the divorce will that help you get rid of him”  

“ummmmm..”YES!!!!!”  

My dad put me in touch with an amazing attorney and my gramma sent me off with my first down payment of my divorce. (strangely I felt almost friggin giddy when I handed the attorney the check. I was finally going to get out of this mess alive)  

Mr meth was not pleased when he heard I now had the assistance I needed to divorce him. He showed up one afternoon trying to make it past the neighborhood watchdogs wearing a blonde wig and sunglasses (yes crackhead the blonde wig totally disguised the fact that you are an Asian male you fucktard) he asked if he could mow my lawn.  

Huh?! My God this man is seriously nuts!! Mow the lawn? Bitch I’m divorcing your ass! Go away!!! One more fight…one more call to the cops and once again mr meth was running. This time however he ran because he was told that if he didn’t sign the divorce papers that I could never divorce him. I simply said “yup. Guess you got me” and let him believe it. He was served with divorce papers the day before he went back to Cali with his parents. All I needed to be done had just been done! He had to be served with the divorce papers, he didn’t need to sign them..he didn’t even need to show up..little did he know, he had just given me the break I needed to run. You have to wait 30 days from the day the papers are served to even get a court date. In those 30 days my lawyer and I put my case together. We were not sure if mr meth would show up for court or not so we decided to make the divorce as quick and clean as possible. I took it all…I took the debt of the house, all the credit cards that he maxed out in my name, I also took full sole custody of the PIT.  

Day 32 my attorney and I went to court. Mr meth didn’t show up, never contacted my lawyers when they attempted to reach him and never responded to the courts. In divorce court that is called “no contest”. I called it hallelujiah! My divorce was final…I was no longer married to a meth addict…now I was running! I wanted out of this town where everyone knew that I was the meth heads wife. I wasn’t going to raise my daughter in a place where I would never feel free.  

How does a clearly poor freshly divorced single momma run? She quits her job, packs up a uhaul and leaves town with her bestie..that’s how! My bestie, April, oh how I love this girl…if not for her quitting her job and leaving town, leaving her family that she is so so close with..I would not be where I am today. April, I know you read this and I want you to know just how grateful I am for the sacrifices you made for the PIT and I. You didn’t even complain when I said “I wanna move like today” you just came with me…you knew that I needed you and as always….there you were. I love you so much for being my “sister” and I am so grateful that the PIT has such a wonderful and loving auntie. You my dear, held my hand as I took the scariest step of my life..my first steps as a single momma…I will never forget those first steps. I’m eternally grateful that you were there with me april…  

One week after my divorce was final April and I left small town America for the big city. I sent the PIT to my mothers place out in Washington while I got us an apartment and a job….and just to be safe…there was still a meth head who had no idea I had just successfully divorced him. As far as I knew at the time, he was in Cali but I wasn’t taking the chance.  

Eight weeks after April and I moved to the city the PIT FINALLY returned to me! It was our second holiday together….this time the new year was met with momma and auntie…and momma was a bit traumatized but nowhere near as miserable as the last new year….we were gonna make it after all….I finally could breathe! I did it! I left him and made it out alive (so far) and I felt fucking incredible!  

I was ready, finally to pick myself up, and move on with my new life….my new life as momma….JUST momma~  

About a year later mr meth called me. He told me that he was in over his head with the gang and drugs in Cali. He told me his parents house had just been shot up. I could hear the fear in his voice….it scared me a bit too. What do I care if he’s in trouble? He told me he was in DEEP and needed to cut all ties to my daughter.
“Terminate my rights and change her name and your last name. You two NEVER knew me.” he said.
Yeah no shit we never knew you! And now you’re telling me that we are in danger yet again because of you?!
“I’d love nothing more than to rid my life of you. I’ll call my lawyers” I told him.  

Could this be real? He’s willing to terminate his rights? Weee! Should be easy right?   Not so much…..stay tuned to hear how I successfully became a LEGALLY single parent…thus making my ex husband nothing more than a sperm donor. (Yes it makes me giddy to call him that!)  

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Chapter Nine …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 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!!