"We Can't Be Friends"

Why won't people give up on me?  Why won't people leave me alone when I ask them to go away?  I was in a court room with my ex recently.  I didn't look at him; I stared straight at the judge the entire time trying to breathe, but I could see him in my peripheral vision no matter how much I tried to tunnel my vision.  It sucks trying to focus on court matters when someone you are deathly afraid of is sitting a few feet away from you just staring you down.  My boyfriend said he was giving me the Zoolander face the entire time, just literally begging me to take him back with his eyes.

What a fucking joke.

I hope it hurt the bastard's feelings that I wouldn't even give him the pleasure of making eye contact.  I fucking hate him and I hope he is as unhappy now as he made me feel for years.

J-E and I were talking about why he locked me up and fucked with me for so long, and I guess he was like a little boy with an ant farm and a magnifying glass.  Why are some people so fixated on beautiful things that they have to tear them to bits and destroy everything good in them?  I was the best thing he will ever have his hands on, but instead of worshiping me, he didn't want anyone else to see me, and he had this disgusting, sadistic urge to destroy everything good in me.  It's so creepy.  So bone-chillingly creeeeepy to think back to what he was doing to me and my daughter.  It was like, I don't even know how to describe it, but it was almost as if he was so afraid that he would lose us, because he knew we were way too good for him, that he had to lock us away in fear that we might somehow escape.  It's almost not even human, almost like some sort of sick, primal behavior.

What the fuck is wrong with people?

Forever, I will be unable to trust anyone again.

I wish I could build a floating island and just never set foot on the face of Earth again.  It would be nice to just float above where nobody could reach me, somewhere peaceful and safe.  I always used to wish I could just grow a set of wings and fly far away from my old life.  I didn't exactly grow wings, but I certainly flew away to a new life.  Now I've realized that no matter how far you run away, your troubles are going to follow you everywhere.  Being a grown up fucking sucks...

Pretty Lame

I guess everything is pretty lame lately.  I'm so jaded with my job and court dates and the all-encompassing bullshit I deal with on a daily basis.  A lot of the aspects of my PTSD feel better, but I know it's just a fake-out.  And when I say "feel better," I mean that I don't have a massive panic attack every time I see "his" vehicle tailing me on the road, that I don't think I'm having as many nightmares as before [maybe once a week instead of every night], that I can go to work without seeing "his" shadow out of the corner of my eye multiple times every night.....  I still have a lot of pain in my throat where his thumb would dig in while he choked me out, and the pain often radiates all the way up my jaw and into my ear.  It sucks.  I wish I could just erase my past now that I've started over on a clean slate in a new place.  I'm so sick of people telling me that my past is what makes me who I am today.  I don't like the person my past created, and I think that whole past-makes-you-who-you-are lump is a load of shit.  I don't care if I wouldn't be who I am today if I hadn't been through what he put me through.  I don't want that crap in my history!  I wish I had just met J-E when I was young and innocent, naive...and when I still had a happy heart.

No matter how far away I run, no matter how long I hide, I will never escape memory.  It's been 14 months.  I've replaced my past with a new present.  Everything in my life is new besides my blood relatives and a few pieces of clothing.  I hate pretty much everyone because nobody will shut the fuck up with their stupid opinions; nobody will quit with their annoying ass suggestions; nobody will fucking stop bothering me.  "They all want to make sure I'm okay."  I just want them to shut the hell up...  I'm not going to be okay.  I was brutally abused in every way imaginable for nearly a decade.  I think it's safe to say, my head is fucked for life.  Most days, I just want to be alone...

But then there is always J-E.  He's always there for me with open arms and a warm heart.  I think he's been through enough of his own bullshit in his own life to understand me.  Miraculously, he has enough patience to put up with me through all my shit.  I never believed I could find anybody like him, but I have.  =)

And yep, that's my pretty lame post after ages of not caring to have anything to say on here.  I've been too busy with work and matters of the heart to bother with keyboards and other junk.

Year In Review

I think it's coming down to being time for me to write another year in review.  Especially with a year like I just lived, I don't think I could skip this review!

I remember the numb, empty feelings that overpowered me during those first few months after I left him.  I was so afraid, and I still found myself living in that auto-pilot mode your mind sets itself to in order to survive.  The more shut-off you are to reality, the easier it is to keep breathing when things are unbearable.  I was terrified.  I thought they would take away my child because I had no means to support and care for her myself.  Thank goodness for the Safe group I found my way to, because they found me all the resources and support I needed.  I credit them in great part to enabling me to lift myself and my daughter from the ashes of our past life of abuse.  Without them, so many of my questions would have gone unanswered, so many of our needs would have gone un-met.  They supported us, fed us, gave us a safe home to stay in.  I am eternally grateful for their generosity and kindness.

I spent the first three months of the year in a battered women's shelter with my daughter.  It was just the sobering experience I needed to keep myself grounded when all I wanted to do was shout and dance and leap for joy because I was finally FREE.  After all those years of suffocating abuse, I finally had the opportunity to make my own decisions, choose my own fate, and do what I wanted to do.  My abusive ex husband took so much from me.  This year has been all about winning my Self back.

I visited our new home-state last year in December.  And while I was here, desperately seeking an escape, peace and freedom, I couldn't help but fall in love.  Oh, how refreshing and heartwarming it is to find new love!  I loved the snow, the chill in the air, the magic of seeing horses everywhere I looked, the beautiful mountains that created the gorgeous backdrop I enjoyed every day at sunset.  And most of all, I found myself loving him.  J-E.  My knight in shining armor and not a link of chain-mail less!

January through the end of March, my daughter and I spent in the battered women's shelter.  I filed for a protective order against my husband.  He attempted to retaliate by filing for divorce, but that just did me a favor [he can have fun paying those court fees himself].  Protective order in hand, my daughter and I fled the state on April Fool's Day.  Nice prank, huh?  =]  And so began my journey to get my shit together!  I found a job, bought my own car, and began creating a home for us.  Spring definitely represented a new beginning for me this year.  I spent the Summer coasting along, trying to avoid my past and just live each day as it came.

As Fall crept up on us, there was a court hearing in which the judge allowed me to have all permanent custody decisions removed from the state my ex husband filed divorce in.  This gave me the freedom to file for custody in our new state, which eliminated a lot of traveling on my part, and protected me from any allegations of being in contempt of court for leaving a state during divorce proceedings before custody was determined.  I also enrolled my daughter in school, something she has immensely enjoyed.  She is learning so much!  She is reading a surprisingly large amount of words, and I couldn't be more proud.  Her favorite hobby is anything art-related.  She could sit down and color or paint for an entire day without budging from her seat.

I frequently struggle with my past.  You certainly don't forget about 10 years of abuse and move on overnight simply because you move a thousand miles or so away.  It's the type of thing where, if I ignore it, it only gets worse, and if I pay it too much attention, it swallows me whole.  There have been days where I was so listless and depressed that I would just sit still, silently, as the hours passed, not saying a word and often bursting into tears when spoken to.  It's tough.  I went through a lot, and I have been unable to process a lot of it.  My fears and complexes frequently interfere with my daily life, my relationships and my mood.  I can't trust anyone anymore.  I have often related myself to a head-shy stray.  I don't think anything else could describe me more accurately.  I'm jumpy, distrustful, and I've found that sometimes I bite back before thinking.  I am on constant alert trying to protect myself, even when there are many times that there is no reason for me to be so protective of myself.

This December, I made a very difficult decision that I wasn't planning on making at all.  I decided to stand up for myself to someone who had been calling herself my best friend for years.  I wish she and I could remain friends, because we have so much history together!  Unfortunately, everything is always all about her.  In my biggest year of need, her heart and interest were nowhere to be found.  I suppose these things happen to adults all the time.  We grow up, forget our childish joy in friendship, and find ourselves too busy with our own families to think about anyone else.  I realize that my friend has been going through a difficult time as well since her child was born with an obscure disorder, but that does not excuse her from the fact that friends are supposed to listen to each other and not just talk about themselves.  All I asked for was a little empathy, maybe some sympathy here or there, and most importantly, an open ear.  All I was getting was ignored.  Literally every time the subject would fall on myself or my troubles, my friend would randomly return the subject to herself.

The other night, I expressed my fears and anxieties about having court the next day.  I sent my friend TWO messages in a row about this, and she replied something entirely unrelated and all about herself!  It is so typical of her, and I had just had it with her for doing that all the time!  The next day, she didn't have anything to say to me although any other day she will start texting me at dawn.  Later in the day, a new friend of mine texted to check in on me, so I sent a subtle reminder to my old friend, mentioning how sweet I thought it was that someone who barely knew me had remembered me on a day she knew would be stressful.  Old friend texts back about her son.  WTF...  At that point, I was absolutely at wits end with her bullshit.  So, I told her how I feel about the way she treats me.

Here are the messages ::

Me to Her : I guess you forgot, but don't sweat it I guess. It's not like I don't know you have all your own worries to deal with too. This is just where life leads us sometimes... Too worried about your own problems to take one minute to read what I have to say when I need your support. I do what I can to support you when you tell me you're dealing with things, and I do my best to keep up with what you're going through. But when I try to talk about things that are worrying me or that I'm upset about, you so frequently entirely ignore me and text me back with something about yourself. Last night I sent you two texts in a row about how worried I was to be doing what I had to do today, and what do you say back? You change the subject, something you have done so often recently. I see where your interests lie - yourself. I realize that I have a whole slew of shit in my life that I keep bringing up, and
maybe you're sick of hearing about it, fine, but you call us best friends. When I need you, you turn the subject to yourself. Your narcissism has effectively destroyed our friendship. I don't even look forward to talking to you anymore because I know that no matter what I am going through or what I try to share with you, you are going to turn the subject back on yourself. Call me an asshole if that makes you feel better, tell me that I'm just as self-centered as I am calling you, do what you have to, but just know that my problems are just as big as yours. I am struggling, and this has been the worst year of my entire life. When you fret over [your daughter]'s condition, I do everything I can to let you know it deeply saddens me and that I hope the best for her. When I share my worries, you just ignore me. I need someone I can talk to, someone who will help me work through my troubles and make me
feel a little bit of love in this cruel world. I don't need one more person in my life belittling me, ignoring me and minimizing my emotions, acting like I do not matter...

Her to Me : What the hell? The last msg i have is me asking how court went/was going and that i hoped the best in finding a solid friendship in your new hometown. And sometimes, i just dont know wtf to say. Im mad i didnt go get you all those years ago and im mad all those times I told you to leave him and you ignored me and made excuses amd then now you praise the hell out of [J-E] for suggesting it, like no one else had ever said anything. I hate how much you hurt and i hate all you are having to go thru. It makes me sick to my stomach. But the worst is i cant do shit to help or make it better. So i say nothing so i can calm down and then i change the subject. Im really sorry. 

<<Bullshit.  The last message she sent asked how my day had gone, not a word about me going to court, and certainly no words of encouragement knowing where I would be that day.>>

Me to Her : 1-No, after the 2 texts I sent yesterday around 5pm, you replied that you were considering getting a job again. What part of that is not changing the subject to yourself? So go re-read your text messages and reconsider what you are saying because I have the same texts on my phone. And all your text said today was "How are things going today???" Not a word about court or my concerns about going there today. And then, you immediately changed the subject to [your son] in the same message. I never TOLD you about being abused because I was ASHAMED and TERRIFIED that he would murder me for telling. And when I finally did tell you, you acted like it was hard to believe simply because I had never mustered up the courage to tell you before. For all I know you were offended that I told [J-E] first and not you. And when I decided to move and try to be happy, you essentially told me I was in the wrong for that because "it would be unfair to other people who didn't know why my marriage ended," and that I somehow owed it to everyone else to give them time to accept the failure of MY marriage. I'm pretty sure it was at that point that our friendship was over. The last year has just been dragging it out unnecessarily because I was clinging to the idea that you might actually care about me. It is clearer to me with each passing day that nobody is capable of actually loving me, so I'll just stick it out on my own from now on. 

2-I hate to say all this, really I do. It fucking sucks. After my divorce, and aside from my parents, you are the only person from my past who I maintained contact with. I am just too hurt from feeling unwanted and feeling like it is all too clear that you don't actually give a fuck about me. I can't even talk to you anymore without getting pissed off about you changing the subject on me. I cannot count the number of times I have gotten upset by your texts and thrown my phone across the room, unable to look at it again for hours on end. I have too much hurt in my life to spend every day dealing with feeling like even my best friend doesn't care about me. At least in solitude I can go numb to all the bullshit in my pathetic fucking life.

And since those texts were exchanged, she hasn't had another word to say to me.  That's what I expected.  It hurts.  It fucking hurts like hell knowing that I didn't mean anything to the girl I poured my heart out to for something like 14 years.  I didn't expect sympathy from her.  I knew she was incapable of understanding what I had gone through and why I am hurting so much.  I just wanted a little empathy, something you should expect from any true friend, and an open ear rather than a cold shoulder to anything I wanted or needed to talk about.  But, that is the way of the world.  Some days, I feel like nobody could understand me, but J-E reminds me from time to time in his own little ways that he does.  J-E and I are definitely kindred spirits, but in an opposites attract sort of way.  He tells me all the time that I don't have to worry about being so hard and tough and that I don't have to be so worried about protecting myself all the time because he will protect me.  I have the hardest time believing anything that anyone says to me.  I lost all faith in mankind when my husband spent a decade abusing me.  If you can't trust the one person who is supposed to protect you above all others, you can't trust anyone.  I'm afraid that is a belief I'll never shake.  It's unfortunate, but naivety won't get you anywhere.

 As this year draws to a close, I find myself in higher spirits.  I have more happy days than before, and I have a little faith that I might make it someday.  When my journey began, a little over a year ago, I had no idea what things were going to look like in 3, 6, 12 months.  Now I am beginning to see that I have some small sense of control over my own life now.  And I like where it is going.  J-E and I have had many ups and downs in our first year "together."  I don't think it could feasibly be an easy task getting along with a terrified and clueless victim.  Hah!  But he has held my hand and been there for every court date, every appointment, every time I've needed him, he's been there for me.  He's a good man for sticking through this year with me, and I know that we have many happy years ahead of us as my life begins to truly settle down to some sense of normalcy.   

J-E gave me this pendant a few days ago.  The image depicts a knight in shining armor and his damsel.  When he handed it to me, I was positively thrilled!  I love it!!  I think it's perfect, because I've been calling him my knight in shining armor all this time.  <3

Here is the original image, from "Valentine and Orson" by Florence Mary Anderson.

Meet my scarf collection, something I've been building since our big move this Spring.  I absolutely love scarves!  I realized today, that after a little shopping spree for clothes yesterday, I'm finally starting to feel like I have "things" again.  I moved here with a bag of clothes and my laptop, so I practically started with nothing.  My life for the past year has been a lot like someone's life must be when there is a fire that burns down their entire home and everything inside along with it.  I often wish it really had been a fire that displaced me and my daughter from our past life.  That would have been a lot easier.  Moving on and moving forward has been no easy task for either of us, and although I respect the importance of facing what we went through and accepting it all, I still wish I could just erase it all.

I attend a domestic violence survivors support group every Thursday, and as of last week, I've started bringing my daughter with me those nights so she can take part in the children's group that is held at the same time.  I had originally been bringing her to see a psychologist earlier in the afternoon on Thursdays, but that ended up a complete disaster.  Through my daughter's school, we were referred to a sort of community outreach program who suggested a psychologist for her to see.  They told me and J-E that this psychologist was their go-to expert for victims of childhood trauma.  Unfortunately, our trust in their judgment was very poorly placed.  At her third session, following all those visits being told by the psychologist that we were not allowed to discuss the violence my daughter witnessed, J-E and I posed a few questions about the woman's approach to my daughter's treatment.  Although I had expressly insisted from the start of these meetings that J-E was to be privy to everything that went on during the appointments and that I expected him to be given every bit the same respect and rights as a biological parent would be given, the psychologist had the nerve, in front of my daughter mind you, to insist that he leave her office in the middle of the third appointment.  She went on to point directly at him, while my daughter was RIGHT THERE, and insist that he had no say-so whatsoever because he "is not a biological party to the child."  He and I both were deeply offended that she would say such a thing, especially in front of my daughter.  J-E left, and I removed my daughter from the room, telling the horrible woman that she shouldn't bother to schedule any future appointments because we would never be seeing her for a therapy visit again.

You'd better believe I am filing a grievance about this matter.  Not only did the lady spend a mere fifteen minutes with my daughter before she was trying to [very inaccurately] label her with ADHD, she refused to hear anything about WHY my daughter needed to be seeing a therapist - how do you HELP someone if you don't know WHAT they need help with?! - and bottom line, she was downright rude and unprofessional.

Today, we were reminded of the psycho-psychologist event when someone from my daughter's school called J-E's phone and insisted, yet again, that the school was refusing to listen to or divulge any information to him.  The guy's trying to help me out, so maybe they could save me a little time by letting him give them answers to questions that he knows just as well as I do.  Instead, the lady insisted upon speaking only to me.  It's like this on a regular basis - they call his phone [because my cell phone is a useless brick from home and has next to no reception] and refuse to speak to him, leaving him to have to come chase me down to answer simple, stupid questions that become just a waste of everyone's time.  Well, I called the woman back and after we handled what needed to be taken care of, I questioned her refusal to work with J-E when I have repeatedly asked everyone to keep him privy to everything.  I went on to ask what the hell I have to do to change the school's refusal to speak with J-E.  She went off on this huge tangent saying that J-E has to adopt my daughter before he can have any say-so, and started going on about her husband adopting her daughter, blah-di-freaking-blah.  And then came the ringer : she added such a nice touch when she said, "You just never know where life is going to take you."  Excuse me?  All I know for sure is what I have today, and today I have a REAL father for my child.

J-E and I phoned the school principal to discuss this matter.  She yelled at the woman over the phone for us to hear [isn't that adorably ghetto?], apologized for what had been said to us, and gave us the information we had needed all along about how to change J-E's rights to parent my daughter when it came to dealing with the school.  It was such a simple answer : have a letter notarized stating what I want him to have access to and bring it to the school to be kept in our daughter's file.  For fuck's sake, people, was that so hard?  NO!  J-E is raising my daughter as his own, and she adores him and sees him as nothing less than her only father.  If I died tomorrow, I would die knowing that J-E would watch over my little girl.  He and I both are sick and tired of society denying him the right to be a parent.  I am thankful every day that he came into our lives and has taken on the role of her father.  She deserves a real dad after being cheated out of one the first go-around.  I would never have gone around telling people that J-E was anything less than her biological father if it weren't for my need to protect her from the possibility that my ex-husband come looking for us and turn up at her school one day.  Because of that fear, I felt I had to tell them about the protective order, and because I want to see to it that all her needs are met, I had to tell the school that I recently removed her from a violent, abusive home-life.  Hopefully things start to change, because we are getting fed up with people disrespecting us just because we appear to be young and because J-E isn't my daughter's biological father.

In happier news, which is hard to come by these days, J-E rescued a dog yesterday.  J-E already has a 2-year-old American Bulldog from the same bloodline.  The breeders recently reached out to him asking for help finding a home for some of their pups.  Unfortunately, there was an accidental breeding, the owners are living in an RV, and coyotes have been circling the kennels at night, endangering the younger dogs.  After living in SoCal, I am all-too-familiar with how much of a threat coyotes pose to domestic animals.  J-E traded the breeders 2 bags of dog chow for what would have been a $1500 dog.  She's the most adorable runt of the litter named Mouse, and is almost completely white aside from a tan "mascara" marking around one eye.  I really, really love bully breeds, especially because I miss my old pitbull so much.  I raised my daughter alongside my pitbull, and she's been so sad ever since my ex-husband threw him out god-knows-where.  When we moved here, she was so thrilled that J-E had his big American Bulldog, and they've gotten along brilliantly but the dog often just ignores her.  J-E made a brilliant point about raising young victims of childhood trauma and sufferers of PTSD with puppies to help them form strong attachments.  At times, because I am dealing with my own slew of emotional issues and PTSD, I can't always be the best person for my daughter to cling to, so having a close bond with our new dog could be a deeply beneficial relationship.  [I suggest you take a look at this website J-E came across on the matter : http://www.ptsd.va.gov/professional/pages/trauma_ptsd_attachment.asp].  My daughter is thrilled to have a puppy to play with!  J-E is such a sweetie, always finding ways to spin things in an effort to help us both out in our struggle to move on after so many years of abuse.  <3

Work

I enjoy working [for the most part!].  After spending most of my adult life being literally held hostage in my own home, it's refreshing to have a productive reason to get out of the house 5-7 days of the week.  I like having my own money; money that I earn, and money that I get to decide how to spend.  It's nice not having to own up to anyone when, where and how I decide to spend the money that I earn by my own hard work!

Unfortunately, my current job is a menial one.  Hostessing in a restaurant, I make very little money.  It's not enough to cover rent in my area on my own.  Around here, a 2-bedroom apartment will easily run you $1100-1400/month.  To me, that's very expensive!!  My first apartment when I moved out after high school was $600/month for a spacious 2-bedroom.  I've even lived in a moderately sized, 3-bedroom home with a very large yard in a nice neighborhood for just $885/month.

Also, because I have such a crappy job, fellow employees are constantly coming and going.  There must be a 75% turnover rate, if not more.  And at this point, where there used to be 6 or 7 of us, now there are 3!  My job has been working me to the bone lately.  I believe I've had 2 days off this entire month.  Now, I typically work 4-7 hours a day, so working 7 days a week at such low hours isn't as taxing as 7 8-hour days in a week would be, but it is still tiresome to be there every single day.  Nothing can beat a good, old-fashioned day off from work!

I seriously bust ass at my job.  I am the hardest working, and I believe I'm the most committed to being a reliable employee.  I don't call in "sick" because I want to go out or because I went out and caught myself a hangover the night before; I only ask for days off that I honestly NEED to take [i.e. court dates, important appointments for my daughter, etc.]; I don't ask to go home 2 hours into a shift because of silly little problems...  I do everything I'm asked, and I genuinely CARE about doing my job well.  I would love to be "promoted" to a waitressing position.  It's a fairly nice restaurant, and I could make enough money by waiting on tables to cover my expenses comfortably.  Unfortunately, because we are so short on hostesses, and because there are already plenty of other servers, my managers won't give me a chance at waiting tables.

I've done everything in my power to set myself up for a promotion.  I work hard, I show up on time for every shift, I pick up everyone else's slack, and I come in on my days off to cover unreliable employees.  At this point, I feel unappreciated.  I get the occasional "thank you" for covering missing employee's shifts, but nothing more.  Last night, when I was covering for someone else, a regular asked the manager on duty why he hadn't promoted me to waitressing yet.  I did the suck-up thing to do and said that they couldn't possibly let me wait on tables right now while we're so understaffed for hostesses.  My manager then said that he wouldn't want me waiting on tables anyway when I can't remember simple tasks like hanging up the closing sign [which in his defense I actually had forgotten to do 20 minutes earlier].  But really?  Really?!  Nit-picking over a stupid ass sign that nobody pays any mind to anyway, was that really necessary?  For all I do for the restaurant, I'd like a little nicer treatment.  Everything else I'm responsible for was done, and then some.  I've been going the extra mile at work for months, and for what?  So I can work 7 days a week, getting paid $4/hour plus mediocre tips and be nit-picked over by management?

I realize that I'm in the wrong industry to be expecting any real sort of opportunity, but a little bit of appreciation here and there would be nice.  I wish I could rewrite my past and go to school, not get married, not get pregnant, not get divorced and not get stuck at home for 7 years while I earn zero job history so I could have a better job right now.  I'm doing everything I can now to rewrite my past and make my future into something bearable, but there's nothing I can do to make up for lost time.  I could have been so much more by now, but I let someone take it all away from me, and I squandered my opportunities.

If I could get into waiting tables for a few months, it would open up so many more doors for me.  With that on my resume, I'd be able to show enough experience with customer relations and handling money to apply for a job in a bank.  That alone would be a job I could see happily working at with a comfortable income, something I could picture myself doing indefinitely until something even better became available.  I'll just have to keep looking...  Hopefully someday I will manage to work my way into a better job..........................

Impossible

I know that I am impossible to love.  I drive everyone away in my life because I am stupid, a burden, riddled with complexes; because I carry so much baggage from my past mistakes, because whenever I try to think, I just fuck everything up, because no matter how hard I think I am trying, I am never actually getting anywhere.  I just keep digging my own grave deeper, and deeper, and deeper.

I hate myself, and I'm not surprised that everyone else does, too.

Every day, I make mistakes.  I usually repeat the same mistakes again and again.  It's like I just can't think straight about anything.  Even though I always wish I could just calculate my moves more carefully, and actually achieve anything, I never manage to get anywhere but down.  I can't even manage to pull together enough brain power in a single sitting to get one straight thought across clearly without every idea being riddled with flaws, inconsistencies and stupidity.

I have done nothing in life but bring everyone else down around me.  It's no wonder my parents gave up and let me go when I kept fucking up as a teenager.  There's a point when nothing can be done to help a person.  I am impossible to help because I am too stupid to keep anything good going long enough before I fuck it right back up.  I am impossible to help because no matter what, I keep making bad decisions.

Nobody wants to keep a burdensome, useless piece of crap around.

I spent a decade of my life being abused and tormented on a regular, always hearing the question, "Why can't you just do right?"  I was so convinced that those words were just bullshit coming from an abuser's shitty mouth.  I thought I could free myself of that thought forever by leaving, moving, running away and starting over.  Instead, here I am, a year into my own run of things, still being asked the same question every day.  I ask myself the same question.  Why can't I get things right?  Wishing for things to get better, wishing I would do better, wishing I could make things right for myself after all those years in purgatory - wishing does NO GOOD when it is impossible for me to follow through.

It's no wonder he knocked me around, dragged me by my hair, threw me out of the house all the time, and screamed in my face every day.  I am SO frustrating!  I frustrate myself!  It's no wonder he would choke me like every night.  Because everything that comes out of my mouth is just one huge diarrhea of stupidity.  I wish I would just shut the fuck up all the damned time, too...  Everything that I do is just one giant, never-ending string of stupidity.

In those domestic violence survivor groups, the leaders always remind us all that we should avoid relationships following a history of being abused.  I don't really think it's just because they want us to take time to heal before moving forward so much as I KNOW it is because it's pretty much proven that people like us are just impossible to deal with that whoever we cling to will inevitably just get so sick of us that they wish they could smack us in our stupid faces.  There are more reasons that people are abused than just that they get involved with some shithead who was pre-programmed to abuse.

What the fuck is wrong with me?  Why am I like this?

I tried.  I tried to believe that it was him and not me.  I tried to believe that others were right when they told me "abuse is always the abuser's fault and ~never~ the victim's."  If anything, trying to believe that bucket of shit was my greatest downfall this year.  I've been walking around like a fucking idiot with a chip on my shoulder.  I managed to convince myself that nobody had the right to cross me.  I have walked around without humility, demanding respect yet also insisting that somehow I have the right to have everything go my way.  Being abused was so humbling and demeaning.  He tore me apart until there was nothing left of me but a shell, a walking corpse with no option but to do what I was told and hope to God that I didn't do anything wrong in his opinion to earn myself another strike.  When I left, I was so fed up with following his rules that I just wanted to do everything my way in some stupid effort to enjoy the freedom I had finally earned myself after all those years.  It is SO hard to live every day knowing that any tiny mistake will earn you some form of physical and emotional pain and suffering.  When I walked away from that life, I wanted so badly to be FREE.  I was so hung up on the idea that nobody was ever going to have the right to cross me, fuck with me, or get in my way ever again.  And for what?  No good has come of my lack of humility.  I just keep pushing everything good out of my life because I am on a never-ending streak of fucking-up.

I can't help but believe the whole world would have been better off if I had just died by his hand.  Maybe he would have shot me with his rifle when he was so out of his mind on drugs and running around the house with it loaded, one in the chamber, chasing after invisible and inaudible intruders.  Maybe he would have run me through one afternoon in one of his furious rages with the machete he used to cut my hand.  Maybe he would have held my throat for just another minute too long after I passed out until I just asphyxiated and died.  But he didn't.  I woke up from the seizures, no shot was ever misfired in my direction, and I didn't bleed out from a sickeningly deep gash in my flesh.

The ONLY reason I am any use to this world is because of my daughter.  Without me, she wouldn't have a safe home or a new life to succeed in.  It was because she was right there when he cut me open that I finally knew that I had to get us out of there no matter what it would take.  It it is because I know that I owe her a better life than the one I had brought her into that I know I have to keep trying.  I have to show her that I love her, have to give her everything I can to ensure that she lives a better life.  I have to teach her that she is better than falling victim to some asshole's violent plans to keep her under control.

I hope that she believes other people when they tell her that her mother was strong, and brave, and determined.  I hope she never sees the truth behind those lies.  I hope she never realizes that I would not have fallen victim to my old life in the first place had I actually been intelligent, strong or brave.  I don't want her to know the truth, because I don't want her to lose faith like I have.

Pumpkin Patch Field Trip

My daughter's pre-K program had a field trip to a somewhat-local pumpkin patch last week.  She was so excited about her class trip that J-E and I both decided to join her for the special occasion.  It's important to me that J-E and I are the type of parents A- can look up to, trust to be there for her when she needs us, and in general have a good time together as a family.  Although I had [and still have] a lot of things I needed to do that day, I set my priorities aside for a few hours and we joined her class for a fun-filled afternoon.  It means so much to me that J-E does the same with his own priorities, joining us for her class trip, watching her when I work nights and even tucking her in bed, coming with me to all A-'s important appointments.  I'm thankful every day that A- has such a positive male role model in her life after so many years without!

We had a wonderful time together!  A- was thrilled with all the huge slides around the pumpkin patch, and she went down each of them with her classmates.  There were cows, pigs and goats to see, and we were able to take A- into the goat pen to pet and feed them.  She really enjoyed petting the goats, both large and small!  We rode a very elaborate hayride with A-'s class, and later walked through a corn maze filled with all sorts of creepy houses to walk through.  There was even a psychedelic school bus to walk through!  A day-glo-dotted pipe spun freely around a bridge that you crossed in the blacklit bus, and the room was so disorienting that the door appeared to spin in circles ahead of you.

J-E and I even got to have a little laugh over the leashed child chasing after a cat ::




Now for the fun stuff ::


PIGS!!  =)  I have a thing for pigs, although I much prefer the stuffed, plastic or ceramic kind.  ;D  At the end of our trip to the pumpkin patch, I picked up a neat little toy pig.  I've never seen one like it before, but it's a mother pig suckling a litter of piglets.  LOL  What can I say, I like weird things!


Now, this was cool!  Baby dragon hatchlings.  =)


A Psychic Rooster?  This farm has some interesting sights, for sure!

I think the biggest and best part of this trip for the kids was the tractor/hayride!

OH! Pokemon!  <333  J-E put a Gameboy Color emulator and a copy of Pokemon Yellow version on my PSP last night.  Oh, the childhood memories!


We were greeted by a space alien coming out of her ship along the ride!


Monster bus FTW =)


Lots of big horror movie names in this cemetery.  >=}




Gnomes!


Gotta love a zombie farmer.