I don't know how to get rid of all this anger.

Every time I read that vignette my Chef wrote I actually see red.  I've stopped crying every time I read it - but this intense anger is almost over powering.  I don't know what to do with all this hate.  I don't know how to get past this one. I've worked so hard to get through the fear and anger over what my X did to the kids and I when he brought that gun to my house....  this is different though.  This feels so much more intense.

I knew in my head that my kids had been damaged by what my X did. But reading those words, written in Chef's own voice is physically painful.  My throat starts to close up, and I actually feel my blood pressure rising.  It just brought home, on such an elemental level, what she's been through.

It's almost like I could get over what was done to me... but what he's done to my kids is so much worse.  I don't know how to let this go.

75 days

In 75 days my more than slightly psychotic ex-husband will be released from jail.  No parole, no monitored group home, no restrictions on his behavior other than the restraining orders in place for the kids and I.

As of September he was still talking like a crazy, bitter, angry man.   He was still blaming me for his decision to try and shoot me.

He was promising to get back "everything that was taken from him" and claiming to be thinking about me every hour of every day.... delightful... just what you want to hear when someone has gone to jail for stalking you, trying to shoot you, and then having you followed while he was in prison. 

I'm doing everything I can to control my fear, and my anxiety.  Some days I'm successful, some days I'm horribly, pathetically incapable of keeping the fear under control.  I don't like that he has the ability to frighten me.  I don't like that I'm not strong enough to live my life without anxiety attacks and psycho therapy.  I don't like any of this.

I'm glad Ethel moved while he was a guest of the state - at least he can't find her and her family in an effort to find me.  Not that he won't find me...I'm sure his Drama Momma has already told him what town we are in, and he'll just hire another detective to find me.  In this day and age it's nearly impossible to hide - I accept that.

I just have to hope his desire to remain out of jail is stronger than his desire to punish me, but hope is a fragile thing that brings me very little comfort of sense of security these days.

Blizzards, Birthdays, Bonuses and Bitches

It's been a busy, CRAZY busy week. We got 20+ inches of snow, and are expecting a bit more to come tomorrow. I spent well over an hour with a snow shovel, as BLT doesn't own boots and it's in the teens here temp. wise. I dug us out - the snow was as high as my knees! Today we only had to work a half day, so we went and bought that man some winter gear!

Today is Monkey Pants' 6th birthday. We celebrated with her favorite dinner - mashed potatoes and macaroni and cheese. LOL, weird combo I know, but hey...that's what you get when you offer to make a six year old anything they want to eat! Grandma got her a Pillow Pet and embroidered her name on it for her. BLT picked up a stuffed monkey and a Rapunzel doll - both were quite the hit. She woke us up at the ass-crack of dawn to say, "isn't there something you want to say to me?" Heh, yes she's precocious!

The boss man at work called BLT and I into the office and told us that being such a tiny company they can't afford to give us any kind of holiday bonus in cash, but we did each get a 50.00 gift certificate to our local butcher shop (mmm, and out here that means it's FRESH and usually Organic, like "get that cow out of the field because LoM wants steak tonight!) and we'll be closed from December 23 - January 3rd, but we'll get paid for all the days we are closed! NICE!! We are both very excited... we were just happy to have the time off to spend together, and for BLT to drive home to see his family for a couple days. Getting paid for it wasn't expected at all!

And now to the "bitch" section of this post. Neither of my psychotic X's parents sent Monkey Pants a gift for her birthday. Both asked when they could see her. I told both of them the same thing, that their therapist and I both agree that it's not in their best interest to have anything more than limited contact with family or friends who are actively supporting and/or excusing the X. I gave both parties my mailing address and asked them to mail any gifts or cards to her and I would make sure she got them on her birthday. In true narcissistic fashion they're more worried about their hurt feelings than my poor child, and neither of them ended up mailing her anything. And I made the damn fool mistake of telling Monkey Pants a gift was in the mail from Grandma because we couldn't get together with them right now, so she's been waiting and she was disappointed today. I feel like an ass for assuming they wouldn't punish the child because they are upset with me. What a couple of twat waffles...

So I went to the store and bought an extra gift today. If on Monday there isn't anything in the mail I'll wrap it up and pretend it's from Grandma. At least it will make her feel better, and I'll know not to make promises I'm not sure they'll keep. It's not her fault her grandparents are useless, spineless, self obsessed a-holes. I feel guilty. I feel like if I just sucked it up, and dealt with the anxiety and bit my tongue, or just let them keep abusing me then they wouldn't be punishing the kids. I just can't believe anyone would punish a small child like that...it's their own grandchild for craps sake! Who does that? Either way I guess they've shown their true colors. Now I have to figure out how to explain it to the little ones when they ask why.

Controling the Anxiety, Standing Up For Myself, and Not Making Plans

I've had several pretty massive panic attacks lately. I've also had several smaller, more easily controlled bouts of anxiety as well. I'm working on removing the things from my life that cause those anxious feelings, and dealing with the ones that I can't remove. What causes me the most stress is finding myself in situations where I don't have control, especially in regards to my former husband's family. I don't know what information they are funnelling to him and/or his bulldog lawyers. I can't handle having them minimize my feelings or what the kids are going through. Dealing with them at all is a huge trigger for me.


To this end I sent my former father in a law an email that told him, in no uncertain terms, that his contact with my children is limited to written communication or cards/gifts sent by mail. Their therapist and I both agree that the children should only have limited contact with any of my X's family members that are actively excusing his behavior and who are not expecting him to take responsibility for the damage he's done. The former FIL has only seen the kids 2 times in the past year and a half, and never once called me to find out if they were okay. Even when we were only 1 step up from being homeless. If it weren't for Ethel and my parents we would have had to live in my car - but that man lives in a 5000 square foot house with at least 4 bedrooms. Were it my grand-kids I wouldn't care how much I disliked my former daughter/son in law and I would suck it up and offer them a place to live.


As for standing up for myself, well my former mother in law called work and left a message for me. She wants to know if she gets to see Monkey Pants this week for her birthday. She also wanted to know what the plan was for Christmas. I stood my ground. I called her home and left a message on her machine. I told her that I wasn't ready to see her, and that if she wished to she may mail her gift to Monkey Pants and I would ensure that she gets it on her birthday. I told her that I was not ready to decide about Christmas yet, and that I would let her know. I did inform her that the children would not be attending the traditional Christmas Eve dinner and gift orgy at the Great-Grandparents house. (I heard the horrible and hateful things they said about my former father in law when he divorced the X's mother years ago... and right in front of my X and I. I won't have my girls subjected to that kind of poison) I also informed her that if I do agree to meet with them it will be at a restaurant or neutral location. I do not wish to be in their home.


I didn't tell them why, they don't need to know that it makes me feel very vulnerable. I have no control in their environment. I don't want them to know where I live, so they obviously can't come here to my home. So for now, I'm going to refuse to make plans. I'm going to play things by ear and see how I'm feeling closer to Christmas.


Whenever I start to feel anxious, I just keep hearing Ethel's voice in my head, "what can you control right now? Breath deeply and slowly and focus on the things within your control. You've got this, you're not alone."


Whewww... I've got this. I'm not alone.

Standing up for myself

I can be pretty forceful when I need to be. I don't like it though- I have the classic oldest daughter syndrome that makes me want to please everyone, to smooth the waters, to make people happy with me.

I've just been pushed too far by the former in-laws however. I couldn't take it any more. His mother has spent the past year and a half excusing his behavior. Hell - she spent his entire life doing that. She has supported him financially, excused his poor behavior, his crazy choices, and his down right dangerous denial of his responsibility. She butted into my divorce when I asked her not to. She discussed the X with my children when I expressly forbid her to do so.

Having her show up in court and write a "poor him" letter to the court talking about how important it was for him to regain a father-daughter relationship with his kids, even when it's not in their best interest of my kids, was absolutely the LAST straw. I'm done.

She enabled him, once again, to perjure himself to the court. In effect she stood by while he called his children liars. I will not have a woman like that around my children. She chose to stand by her sweet baby psycho at the cost of my kids so now she'll just have to live with having a very minimal influence in their lives.

Today a difficult call was made. I told her that I'm changing all our personal cell phone numbers. She can reach me at work Monday through Friday. I told her that we no longer have a relationship. We no longer have any reason to speak with each other. She can see the kids but it will be on my terms, and in a limited capacity.

Both my therapist and the kids' have expressed the opinion that it's not in any of our best interest to continue this relationship in it's current state. So I'm changing the rules.

I am so angry and frustrated. I didn't want it to come to this. I went out of my way to try and keep things friendly. I overlooked and forgave them time and time again. But I've seen the grief on my children's faces when they've told me stories about what the X said and did in those days leading up to the crime. I can not forgive her for enabling him to call my children liars.

I'm hoping I did the right thing. There will be some serious repercussions I'm sure. The grandparents were paying for Lady Bug's full time, tuition based Kindergarten. I have no idea how I'll pay for that. She may have to change to a part time - free class if there is room. Out of anger they very well could give their bull dog lawyers free reign to make my life hell.

I did what I think is best... yes, partially out of anger and resentment, but I'm sure that we all will benefit in the end. The in-laws need to face the consequences of their choices. The kids and I need to be surrounded by people who truly support us. It doesn't seem like those two can take place at the same time.

Back to Court

Thursday (tomorrow) I'll be back in court asking the judge to remove the X's rights to send the kids further letters, and to extend their order of protection for another year.

The children have discussed the letters with their therapist, and all on their own decided that they don't wish to receive any further correspondence from him. I did not make any attempt to influence their decision in any way and I excused myself from the room while they discussed it with the Dr. so that they could be totally honest and not worried about my feelings or opinions.

The two older kids came home and wrote letters for the judge- reading their words broke my heart in a way I didn't think was possible. I thought I had cried all my tears and raged all that I could. I was quite wrong.

I'm so very angry, and sad, and confused. How can anyone do this to someone they love - much less their own children? How is it possible to be so selfish? In my oldest child's letter I learn something new. Apparently their father told them that everyone had to choose sides. That Ethel and Fred chose my side - and all daddy's friends and co-workers chose his side, and that they too had to choose sides. Who does that to a child? How do you rationalize to yourself that it's okay to make a child choose between their parents?

It's one more episode of him having no appropriate boundaries, no common sense, and no sense of decency where they are concerned. The momma bear in me wants to gather them up and protect them at all costs - but there are laws and procedures that have to be followed, and some things are not within my control. That kills me inside a little.

So, if you're inclined to prayer, positive thoughts, or good mojo then please keep us in mind. There's no way I'll sleep tonight. I'm just trying not to become overcome with panic, anger and grief right now.

Getting What I Deserve

“The minute you settle for less than you deserve, you get even less than you settled for.” ~Maureen Dowd


Did you see that Ethel? This applies to both of us Love.


Doctor Feelgood - a.k.a. my therapist says that I have a case of self loathing going on. Its all wrapped up in my guilt over the way X found out about BLT, about the kids pain and all the drama and trauma they've gone through, and my own type A need for perfection.


Whew, that's a lot to deal with - drama, guilt, pain, and the need for perfection.... I'll be in therapy for years at this rate. I have a long history of accepting less than what I deserve, because I struggle with the idea that I actually DO deserve good things. I've never felt smart enough, or pretty enough, or talented enough. I settled for a marriage to someone I didn't really love because a part of me thought it was better to have someone, than to be alone... that it was the best I could ask for because I didn't deserve better.


I let him disrespect me. I let him call me bitch in front of my children. I let him get out of being a full time father so that I didn't make waves. I didn't leave when I knew I was never going to be happy with him - because a part of me didn't think I was able, or worthy of better.


So, I'm writing it down so that it's out there. I deserve happiness. I deserve love. I deserve to be trusted and to have someone I can put my trust in. I deserve better this time around, and I won't settle for less.


At some point I have to start letting go of the guilt especially. It's the one thing that holds me back the most, the one thing that makes me doubt myself. I made mistakes, but those mistakes do not have to define me. I don't have to punish myself, or expect less for myself because of them. What I struggle with the most is that I fell in love with another man at the end of difficult and self destructive marriage and I had an affair. It was not the reason for my divorce, but it was a symptom of the cancer in our marriage. And while I don't regret being with BLT, it is not a choice I would ever make again. At heart I'm a one man woman.


I'm honest about the affair. Once it was out in the open I didn't make excuses because I believe in taking responsibility for your choices. I've been drug through the mud, humiliated, belittled, gossipped about, and questioned more times than I can say. I lost respect, and I lost friendships. My X made it a point to tell his version of the facts to every friend, family member, neighbor, co-worker, and random stranger who would listen. He exaggerated, embellished, and manipulated. It was humiliating to have all my personal business out there for everyone's entertainment. For the love of God he even told our Schwan's delivery guy, the real estate agent who sold us our house, and people he met online.... and all of those are the consequences for my choices. I can live with that.


But I'm not going to keep letting him punish me forever, and I'm not going to keep punishing myself. If former friends no longer want to be in my life, then so be it. I personally do not judge my friends by their mistakes - but by how they respond and deal with them after the fact.


I'm going to keep working on accepting myself and letting go of the guilt. I'm going to start asking for what I want, and expecting good things to come into my life, and I'm going to work on believing that I deserve to be happy.

I get so angry on your behalf...

I know you're sad.

I know you're hurting and you want to try and save your marriage.

I know that you're self esteem has been beaten and battered down so hard that you can't see your own beauty and worth.

I know you want to trust him, even though he has done nothing over the past decade to deserve that trust.

But what I know more than anything else is that you deserve better. I get so pissed off when he hurts you. I get so angry that he makes you feel like you're crazy. I don't believe his stories, I don't believe he treats you the way you deserve to be treated. I don't believe this is healthy for any of you. I worry about your children and the example they see of how people in a relationship treat each other.

I worry that you still sleep with him, knowing he may not be faithful to you. Even if it's just emotional affairs (which I don't believe, it's more than that). He hurts you, and you still give that part of yourself to him. I can't even fathom that this is healthy for you.

I love you.

I support you.

I'm here for you in every way. Be strong. Believe in yourself. Lean on me.

I have my first counseling appt. tomorrow

I wont go so far as to say that I'm dreading my appointment tomorrow, but in no way could I say that I'm looking forward to it. I'm not really good at expressing my feelings, especially in the company of strangers... at least not when I have to look at them. Talking about my fears, and revealing my insecurities to someone else makes me distinctly uncomfortable. I guess that's why I like blogging so much. It's fairly anonymous, and I don't have to look anyone in the eye or deal with uncomfortable stretches of silence.

On some level I feel silly that I can't deal with this on my own. It's not like I was beaten up on a daily basis, or chained to a wall and starved of human companionship. My counselor specializes in PTSD related to domestic violence - and I'm sure she is used to dealing with cases of women who have been truly, horrifically abused by their spouses. What I had was a single episode, and as traumatic as it was it was a single day... a moment in time. I feel weak for not being able to get over it and move on with my life.

What's odd is that I would never judge anyone else for getting counseling if they felt they needed it - and yet I'm embarrassed to be going myself. I don't want to tell anyone outside of my immediate family. I feel as though I'll be judged and found lacking, or that somehow I'll disappoint someone.

I'll let you all know how it goes tomorrow night.

A Letter from the Convict...

My oldest child received a letter today from the X. While he is in prison he is only allowed to communicate with them via letter, and there are rules he's supposed to follow. First I want to say that perhaps there is nothing at all wrong with this letter... I understand that I'm not a good judge in this situation. EVERYTHING related to my X feels like a threat. I see danger in every word, and every action.

That being said, I feel there is a blatant threat being made, directed at me. He knows that every letter he writes to the children is first read by me and edited in case I object to the content. There is no way the words he wrote weren't meant for my eyes.

And so here it is... Let me know if you think I'm crazy. For privacy I'm removing any names.

Dear Chef,
I can't even tell you how much I wish I could be there for your birthday. I wish I could call you and tell you how much I love you and your sisters and how I think about you all every day. Even your mom is still on my mind every hour of every day. I haven't given up Chef, I promise you that. One day soon I'll be able to hug you again and everything else that was taken away from me.

The letter goes on to describe what he asked for on his 13th birthday and goes on to promise that whatever Chef doesn't get for Christmas or Birthday he will "find a way to get them for you when I get out". So damn typical, him trying to buy affection with expensive gifts, but I digress. Back to the letter.

He then tells Chef that there are photos of the kids on his wall (wonderful... all the lovely felons can stare at my four young children, this makes me feel just dandy) and that "You and your sisters should never have had to suffer because of the decisions your mom and I made."

HUH?? He decided we were getting divorced. Then he decided to start stalking me, hack into my computer and read all my private email, have me followed, break into my cell phone account to monitor my calls and texts, and finally to bring a gun to my house and cause me physical harm. I'm pretty sure the more accurate sentence is, "You and your sisters should never have had to suffer because the decisions I made" but again... he's still sitting his crazy ass in jail not taking responsibility for what he's done.

I'm sorry, but the LAST thing I want is for him to be thinking of me every hour of every day... can we say Obsession? Unhealthy Fixation? Scary Stalker Behavior? And then the line about him promising Chef he hasn't given up. On what? Getting me back? Getting back AT me? Finishing what he set out to do and kill me then kill himself? What is he promising exactly, when he knows I'm reading these letters?

It concerns me when he uses phrases like, "and everything else that was taken away from me" It's no ones fault but his own that he lost his job, his family, and his freedom. Yet even now, a year after going to jail he still puts the blame on everyone else.

This letter scares me. I swear one day he'll try to kill me again. If I suddenly go missing at any time after March 11, 2011 then you all know what happened to me. He didn't give up, and he finally got what he wants.

So tell me friends, am I over reacting? Is my fear getting the better of my common sense? Once before I didn't listen to that nagging voice in the back of my head that said, "protect yourself, this is getting out of control" I let him bully me. I let someone I didn't know convince me that getting a restraining order would make things worse. I didn't follow my gut, or listen to the advice of friends and family and he proved himself to be both crazy and dangerous.

I don't trust myself anymore. I don't know what is a reasonable amount of caution versus hysterical fear, because honestly thinking about him at all makes me slightly hysterical. All I know is that after reading this letter tonight I'm feeling very vulnerable and I don't like it one bit.

PTSD and My Mommy Made Me Do It...

Some of you, my dear readers and friends have mentioned that I might be suffering from some type of PTSD.

My most disruptive symptoms are: Nightmares, Frequent upsetting memories, Strong feelings of distress when reminded of the event, Irregular / fast heart rate, shaking and sweating when recalling details of the event, Difficulty falling and staying asleep, Having outbursts of anger at inappropriate times, Crying out of the blue at random times, Being hyper-focused on "fixing" things or on issues related to the court case/divorce/event, and Feelings of being totally alone and that nobody really understands what I'm going through.

Several of these are listed as classic symptoms of PTSD.

As the X's release date inches closer the children and I are all having a harder and harder time dealing with what happened and all of the changes we've had to go through since. I found a way for the kids to get free or at the least very low cost mental health counseling. Their first appointment isn't until the first week of October, but at least we are on the books and they'll be able to work through some of their fear and issues before his release if they can fit them in a few times before March.

After my break down on Friday my parents have decided...okay, my MOTHER has decided that I too need some kind of counseling. I personally think I've done very well. This was only my second real break down in a year, and the first one was actually during our separation, before he came to my house with a gun to shoot me.

My mother thinks all this "keeping it together" is really just me internalizing and trying to bury all the fear and memories of what happened. She's afraid at some point I'm going to just crack and really lose it. She called a victims advocacy group and figured out a way for me to start seeing a counselor as well. My first four visits are free, and then the advocacy group with pay 80% of the cost after that so that I can continue to get help (if need be) up until the time of his release. There is a free support group meeting each week after his release that I may or may not qualify for, to be determined by the Dr. after we have a few sessions.

I'm really not comfortable with this. I don't want to discuss it anymore. In a way I just want to forget that it even happened, but I can't. Every day there is some new disaster to deal with; lawyers - restraining orders - bill collectors - the kids fears. Something that brings it all back up over and over.

I really feel like being able to post my thoughts and fears here, in a fairly anonymous way is helping more than anything else. Just having a place to vent my frustrations relieves more pressure than anything else. It's MUCH harder and scarier to share my feelings, my guilt, my worries, and my fears aloud to someone else.

1 year ago today...

He called, demanding that I pick up the dogs from his house. I refused, it was after ten at night and I was just getting ready to hop in the shower.

The next thing I know he's at my door. He tries to talk me into coming out to his car to grab the dogs. Again I refuse. He tries to get me to come out to his car to get a bag of dog food. I tell him to keep it - I have my own bag.

When it's clear I won't come out to his vehicle he walks out and stands beside it for five to seven minutes. I just want him to leave. I just want a hot shower and my bed, I have to work in the morning. All I have on is my bathrobe and I feel vulnerable. I figure the fastest way to get rid of him is to see what he's doing.

On my front porch I see him grab a long, black plastic case with a center handle from his car. He says, "I told you I bought Chef a guitar right?" I think to myself, "well that's the weirdest guitar case I've ever seen, it's so narrow. I'm sure he bought some piece of shit toy thing that won't work and I'll get to fix it when she's disappointed."

I turn around and walk into my house, he follows immediately behind me. I don't notice him locking the door as well as the deadbolt. I sit on the couch, my back to him. I fiddle with my cell phone that I put into the pocket of my robe. I remember thinking, "maybe someone will call and I'll have an excuse to get him out of my house." I hear him behind me fiddling with the case and I assume he's pulling out this weird guitar to show me.

In a moment he says to me, dead calm, kind of a low, slow tone. "So we really aren't getting back together are we?"

"no... we are never getting back together"

"Well this won't take long" and like a slow motion dream I hear the familiar sound of a gun being cocked opened. Not that I have any experience with firearms at all, but I've seen enough movies. I've heard that sound a thousand times over on the big screen. I look over my shoulder and I see him removing shells from his pocket and loading them into the chamber of the rifle. It's pointed directly at my head.

I slowly stand up, backing towards the door I dial 911 on the cell phone in my pocket. When I hear the operator's voice I life the phone to my ear and say, "my ex husband is in my house with a gun I need the police NOW."

She asks me if I can get out of the house. I tell her I don't know. She tells me to run, just run and don't stop until I get someplace safe. I'm pulling on the doorknob and I can't figure out why it won't open. I see the deadbolt and I flip it open. I pull again... it still won't open. I'm starting to get frantic, I feel trapped. I'm sweating and my blood is pounding in my ears. It occurs to me that the door is locked, and I flip it open.

Suddenly it's a rush of cold night air and I'm running. I hear him behind me on the patio yelling "YOU DON'T WANT TO DO THAT!" I keep running down the driveway. It is near total darkness, no street lights and only a few lights from local houses. I head to one of those lights in the neighbors house.

A sudden explosion of pain in my right foot sends me to the ground. I land on my right shoulder feeling it shoved out of its socket. Another explosion of pain makes my vision blur. I don't feel like I can take a deep breath as I crawl on my hands and knees to my neighbor's door. I pound furiously. I can still hear him screaming in the distance.

My neighbor answers the door. I tell him what happened. I'm still on the phone with the police. I must have given them my address by this point. They tell me that help is on the way. My neighbor hides me in the closet of a back bedroom with his teenage daughter and his wife. He's also on the phone to the police. I keep apologizing over and over for bleeding on their floor. My foot looks like raw hamburger and my arm is hanging limp, useless, and at an unnatural angle.

The police arrive a few minutes later. They get me out of the closet. They hurry us out of the house. I see the SWAT team arrive as they lock me in the back of a police car. I call my best friend and his family before someone searches me and takes my phone. For three hours I'm questioned, I'm forced to write a statement with my dislocated arm. My cell phone is confiscated. I'm nearly naked - still in nothing but my bathrobe, cold, and injured. They won't tell me where my children are. I'm frantic, having convinced myself that he killed them before he came to kill me. I am honestly and truly, for the first time in my life, hysterical.

The rest is a blur. At some point the police finally inform me that they found my children alive and well at his home. My former in-laws picked them up and they are safe. They take me to the station and lock me in an interview room. After approximately four hours I demand they let me go or charge me with a crime and get me a lawyer. I demand my cell phone be returned to me. I call my best friend. She comes to get me.

At some point in the wee hours of the morning he surrenders and they remove him from my home without further incident or injury. He's arrested. My life is never the same again.

I have to tell my children that their dad won't be coming back to them for a long time. I have to make statements to the police again, get a restraining order, contact my land-lord, get medical attention, call my employer, and try not to break into a million little pieces.

One year ago today I became a person I never imagined I could be. I became a victim, a single mother, a survivor.

One year ago today I changed.

God I was a bitch today

I have to admit that I was feeling so put out and bitchy today, I know I wasn't pleasant to be around.

I can blame the heat. Or the fact that my kids called me six times at work screaming and fighting on the phone expecting me to play referee. I can blame my former in-laws for continuing to piss me off. Or the bank for making it impossible for me to get my X off my automobile title without jumping through the most ridiculous steps. (Honestly, why do they need proof of the weight of my car to print a new title with just my name on it? Why the hell does how much it weighs affect anything?)

I suppose I have plenty of fairly legitimate reasons to feel pissed off at the world, and I think in some ways it was a combination of all those things. But it wasn't any one thing that triggered this enormous melt down.

I saw myself in one of those bank camera / tv things today and I look fat. Like REALLY fat. I've gained back 20 pounds of the 60 I lost several years ago. I can't believe I'm letting myself go... I'm slipping back to that hideous mess I was. And you know what? I was pissed at myself.

Then add in the phone calls, the heat, the bullshit with the bank and POW... mega bitch mode kicks in.

I have had a headache since two o'clock this afternoon. I need to just take a cool shower and go to bed. Maybe I'll be nicer to myself and everyone else in the morning light.

Dear Former In-laws...

Dear former in-laws,

Please do us all a favor and butt out of my life.

You have to accept the fact that you are no longer involved in certain aspects of my life. When I divorced your son, hell BEFORE that, when he brought a gun to my house and your answer was to lay blame at my door you lost a right to have a say in how I live my life.

When you paid for the divorce lawyer whose only job was to screw my kids out of the resources they deserve to feed and clothe them then you made a choice. You chose your gun toting, narcissistic son over your grandchildren and you lost the right to have input on how I raise them.

Do not ask me about my personal life. Do not ask me about my finances. Do not share your opinion on either of these subjects either. Do not make judgements about me, do not discuss my private affairs behind my back with other family members. Keep your unwanted opinions to yourself.

Do not call me at work, and get me so upset by butting into things that have nothing to do with you that I start to have chest pains and feel the need to hide in a closet and scream at the top of my lungs in frustration.

What I once accepted as "involvement" out of parental love I have now come to realize is simply nothing more than an unhealthy control issue. You need to control what I do, what I say, whom I socialize with, how I raise my children and any other aspect of my life that you feel is your business because your bat shit crazy son is sitting in jail and you desperately need someone to blame.

I am not your scape goat for all the crap you're dealing with. I'm not the cause of your grief, your own personal marital problems, your emotional pain, your financial woes, or your ire. I did not raise a selfish, self obsessed, anti-social man, and then make excuses for his erratic and downright destructive behavior...that one is all on you. Deal with it.

I will not be made to feel guilty because I do not love your son. If you are sitting around hoping I'll take him back when he gets out of jail then you're just as crazy and demented as he is.

I will not let you control me with money - or the withholding of it. You can not bride me, or my children into behaving in the way you feel is most "appropriate". I will say what I want, I will tell my side of this story without shame. I will take responsibility for the mistakes I made, however I will not make any apologies to YOU for the decisions I made. BECAUSE I WAS NOT MARRIED TO YOU!! I will not hide my feeling or my intentions. I will not let you shame me into feeling like I'm somehow in the wrong for finding happiness and love because YOU aren't ready yet.

I am moving on with my life. Accept it, or leave me the hell alone.

Yours Truly,
Little Ol' Me

I thought we were okay...

I don't know what's going on. I'm so confused. BLT seems to have woken up on the wrong side of the bed this morning and he's been short with me and cranky all day.

I was going to take all of us out to have Mexican food for dinner and on the way home he said, "do you really think that's a good idea?" and he explained that he felt bitchy and cranky. So even though I'm exhausted I went to the store and picked stuff up, came home and made dinner. I brought in the groceries by myself, and he came down to inform me he was going to run to the store to get a beer.

Well that was an hour ago. No call to say where he's going or when he'll come back.

What the hell flew up his butt? What did I do? There's a part of me that's been waiting around, holding my breath for something like this to happen. For him to wake up one day and decide this is all just not worth it. I'm not worth it.... my kids are small hellions on occasion, and with one sick, one who's erupted into a snarky tween it's not always fun around here. I get that.

On one hand I can't blame him. I'm scared of my life some days, it's too much to handle for me, and I'm their mother, how can I expect ANYONE to want this?

Yesterday I felt so very loved and understood...today I'm just confused, and honestly I'm scared he's finally come to his senses. Add to that the weight I've gained recently and, well... I just feel like shit tonight.

Words of Wisdom... and Capt. Crazy Town

Ethel sent me an email a few days ago and this was at the bottom: Life is short, Break the rules, Forgive quickly, Kiss slowly, Love truly, Laugh uncontrollably, And never regret anything that made you smile...

I love that! It's so true, and it really speaks to me today. I'm struggling with nearly all of those. Forgiveness? Not happening today. I'm working on the kissing, the loving and the laughing however.

I went to court, all scrubbed clean and ready to be DIVORCED! And I'm not... it was a total joke. First of all I had to read over the settlement and sign it.

Okay, here's the thing. I made an offer to try and avoid going to court. He absolutely refused. His mommy cut the purse strings. He made me the exact same offer, with one tiny addition. I accepted. My lawyer drafted up the paperwork. He refused to sign because he didn't like the way the dates were formatted, how we described the crime he plead guilty to, and a few other ridiculous things. I pay my lawyer to re-draft and resubmit. He signs, but can't send back the paperwork w/o a "special D.O.C. envelope" which we find out is total bull shit. He sends the paperwork in - but he didn't sign all the areas. We pitch a fit at the continued delays (this whole process has taken place over several months) and his lawyer signs for him and returns the papers... FINALLY!

I drive three hours to sign the paperwork, and low and behold he's scribbled notes in the margins. His crime is described as: Harassment with a fire arm, domestic violence against the wife. He scribbled out the words "against the wife" and wrote in "against himself" REALLY? WTF?? He's still sitting in jail believing that he didn't do anything wrong. He's convinced himself and his family that he came to my house, blocked in my car, locked me in, loaded a gun while pointing it at my head and said, "this won't take long"... and he was there to commit suicide. He doesn't think he did anything wrong. He accepts no responsibility - AND THIS IS EXACTLY WHY HE IS STILL REALLY, REALLY DANGEROUS TO ME!! He still believes to this day that I lied, and if I would just tell everyone he was only there to kill himself he wouldn't have to be in prison. WTF is this man's problem? He's a total whack-a-doodle.

So after our good laugh at the fact that the man thinks he plead guilty to domestic violence against himself I continue reading...

Under the section where we divide our meager assets he writes in "except for the washer and dryer, which are on loan from the husband to the wife." Again...WTF?? What does he need with a washer and dryer... in prison? The man doesn't even know how to do his own laundry! When he gets out he's moving in with Mommy. I have the four kids, I need the washer. The only reason he wants it is that he knows it's a 2000.00 dollar set and I don't have the money (you know, being a single mom with four kids and no child support) to buy anything as nice. I LOVE that huge Maytag set, it washes 22 towels or 16 pairs of jeans. Basically I can get all the kids stuff done each week. If I don't have a super sized set I'll never be able to keep up with the laundry.... he knows this... Jackass!!

So fine, I'll give him the washer and dryer. It's not on "loan" for craps sake, but whatever. I'll save up for the next nine months and try to buy one. Then I'll leave this set out in the rain in the back yard until he sends a moving company to pick it up. Maybe I'll toss a nice salmon inside it to rot for good measure.

See...that makes me laugh! But the forgiveness? Not gonna happen any time soon.