Musings and fuckery

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I am depressed.  Surprise, surprise.  I haven’t had hot water in my house for over two months.  I can’t take a hot bath.  I spent the past few weeks taking care of a baby with meningitis, and making sure his mother didn’t relapse back to Meth.  He is just now 2 months old.  Then I had surgery.  I’ve been alone.  Depressed, in pain, and alone.  My 15 year old has been taking the baby with her and staying with the girl with the baby, helping her stay clean, and I’m honestly pushed to the aide with everyone.  Pushed to the side in this filthy house.  I’ve tried to get my husband to wake up and talk to me, but he is exhausted from running the store.  I hate that I’m alive.  Hating being alive is an ongoing emotion I have.  No matter whatever else gets thrown in the mix, that emotion is always lingering in the background….  Weaving the black ribbons of clutching, life taking sadness throughout my core.  I hate this house.  I hate me.  I’m so unhappy, and I’m just too weak and sick to ever change it.  

I’m lonely.  I’ve been married for 16 years, we own a business (game store)where my husband basically lives but we don’t even have enough money to keep food in our fridge or our bills paid.  I never have cash.  Or a card.  I don’t have the ability to pay for things.  I’m too afraid to ask to buy anything because money is so tight.  I want to go on a date.  I think I want to cheat on my husband who has always been the person I love. The man I’ve raised my children with. But I am so damn lonely.  

The good news

The good news is that I’m sick.  My gallbladder is in terrible shape, blood pressure was at stroke level, I have something wrong with my heart, so if I refuse treatment, I should die of natural causes.  The bad part is I would be leaving a two year old without a mother.  Would I really though?  My husband is a nice guy..  Women would want to marry him.  My other three kids are almost moved out of the house anyway.  It may just all work itself out by itself.  

The colors

If I had a gun, I would blow my brains all over the wall.  I think the image would be beautiful.  The deep scarlet red splattered across the walls like wet paint on a canvas.  I wonder if my dogs would eat my brain matter.  I wonder if I would be heard then.  I suppose I would be accused of overreacting or narcissism.  

I wonder how beautiful the blood would be if I sliced my arms open.  From the bend in my elbow all the way down my forearm…  The bright red against my pale white skin.  

The colors would be amazing.  

Today is the day that I die…

I think maybe I’ve been dead for a long fucking time already, but just struggling to hold on…  Struggling to try.  

Today I took my fourth shower for this year.  Yes, this year.  I did my hair, my makeup looks amazing, I went to the store prepared to create majestic, beautiful pieces of art.  I ended up not having help with the baby, and got stuck with another kid to boot.

I did get invited out for tacos… Other people wanted to come too, including my husband but I said no!!!!!!  NO, NO, NO!!! I wanted someone to just take me out.  To not talk about business, games, whatever… I wanted to maybe have a glass of wine.  To discuss a movie?  I don’t know,a book? When it was the baby’s bedtime we got her home and my daughter who has been running around with her friends decided she needed to go back to her boyfriends, who she’s been with for two days straight.  

Of course I come home…  I am the one who decided to take in a baby, not my daughter.  

I stood in my studio as I prepared to leave and I looked around.  I looked around at all of the beautiful, 1/2 finished art projects.  I looked around at the room where a beautiful, extraordinary person used to spend hours creating art…  Happiness, thicker than the oils spread across my canvas used to drip from my paintbrushes… Now I sit.  

In my recliner.

In my socks.

With the remote.

And the pugs.

And the baby.

And my hair buns.

And my pot when she is asleep.

And my tears…

And my Harry Potter

Without makeup.

Without company…




Today I said goodbye to my art room.  I know it will be the last time I try.  I know it is my fault.  I shouldn’t have tried.  

But for a minute, people talked TO ME!!  they didn’t fall asleep while we talked, I was told I was pretty, I laughed.  It didn’t last long enough for me to feel it, but I imagine it would have felt amazing.

Today is the day that I accept that my life is over and I’m far too sick, far too gone, and the only thing I can’t honestly do without conflict is to sit.

In my recliner…

In my socks.

With the remote.

And the pugs.

And the baby.

And my hair buns.

And my pot when she is asleep.

And my tears…

And my Harry Potter

Without makeup.

Without company…




I’m too fucking chicken shit to kill myself, but I accept that I am no longer alive, and I never will be again…

I think it is actually liberating….  I can release the sadness of the life I had, and the pain of being alone.  Just know that I am….

Hopefully there’s something good on cable.  

Crazy fucking good girl

Gave her a bath.  A wonderful, wonderful bath.  I combed her hair.  It was so pretty.  

I scrubbed the fridge.  I scrubbed the toilet.  I fought and fought for help cleaning the things that my mind and body would not allow me to look at let alone touch.

Screaming.  Fighting.  Yelling.  Judging.  Screaming.  Hate.

I said “TAKE HER TO THE DOCTOR!!”. So she finally got in.  She was diagnosed with a horrid case of strep.  She is 16, driving, in college, has a job, but refused to take her antibiotic as instructed.  When I tell her ” TAKE IT!!!”. I am mocked.  When she tells me she feels horrible, I tell her strep travels and won’t let your body recover without taking the full amount of prescribed medication….  She laughs and mocks me..”strep travels??” As she laughs to herself.  Treats me like I’m crazy.  

I tell my family that nobody is allowed over until the house is clean…  I’m ignored.  Mocked…  Questioned…  Guilted..  “But she’s like family…  All she has is us!”. ” I thought you had a soft spot for her!!”. 

I ask to leave the house.  To go on a short shopping trip with my husband and his friend a town over.  I made an effort.  An agoraphobic, depressive psychosis, ocd, anxiety ridden me has been trying… Hard…. I was told the car was too messy and I should stay home.  

Of course, I do as told.  

I ask to go to our store to work on my art I’ve so desperately been trying to work on.  I’m told to stay home because the water isn’t working there.

Of course I do as I’m told.  I’m a good girl you see.

I ask for these cubby boxes to be bought so I can try to organize the baby’s clothing.  I ask for a chest of drawers.  I ask for the Cubby’s.  The cycle continues.  I want to try housework.  I want to contribute.  I want to be heard.  I’m told no.  Again…

So I put on Harry Potter and go to sleep because that is what good girls do……. 

Goodnight.  Time to sleep again.  I’m too big of a pussy to kill myself.  Fuck it.  


I sometimes wonder if god doesn’t keep me alive simply because hehas some sick twisted perversion with watching people suffer….  

Too much for one blog: part 2 (family breakdown) 

I’ve mentioned my family before, but let me map everyone out with alternative names for you…

Husband-  let’s name him Gian. -38 

Son- Elijah – 17.  Has aspergers, social anxiety, disgraphia, and depression. He graduated from high school at 16 and is a 4.0 college student.  

Daughter- Alex.-16.  Alex is technically my stepdaughter.  I had eli and he had Alex before we got married.  We have had custody of Alex since she was three. She is a junior in high school, but is also a freshman in college.  When she graduates next year she will have an associates degree and be a junior in college… At 17 years old no less….  

daughter- Gianna.- 14.  Freshman in highschool, no serious academic achievements yet, but she has plans to do the same program her sister is doing.

We have raised three happy, intelligent and productive children…  

Enter Tituba.  That’s a nickname by the way.  

About 9 months ago, our family was harry pottered a baby.  Yup, drop off and go.  No joke.  An acquaintance (at the time) had a close friend who long story short had been given a baby she didn’t want, and couldn’t care for.  I offered to facilitate an adoption because I know a multitude of families wanting children but unable to have them…  We agreed on a two week trial period where the adopted mom (who had lost an infant a year prior and she was barreling through depression and a heavy drug addiction to prescription and street (hard) drugs) could take the time and make sure it was what she wanted…  Again,long story short, the baby ended up staying with us (cps got involved) and we are now in the adoption process….  

The baby was born addidced to countless drugs, including but not limited to Meth, heroin, cocaine, and I’m not sure of the others…  

After that, she was kept strapped in a car seat or in her crib until we got her at 15 months.  She could not walk, crawl, and was very weak and sick when we got her….  We have been working with specialist on catching her up, and she has made such an extraordinary turn around!!!  She is now happy, confident, and has a love and sparkle in her eyes!!! Her personality is in full swing development, and she is surrounded by a village of love!!!  

So here’s the kicker…  First off, we didn’t really plan on more kids, lol…and I was a good girl and didn’t get pregnant!!  Now, even though we NEVER registered to be foster parents, the cps worker has decided we are his favorite people!!! The adopted mother is pregnant, due in may, and cps has already explained to us that the child will be immediately placed into their custody, and they asked us to take this baby!!!  

How strange is it that some people wait their entire lives for a child, yet people keep giving us children??????    

Too much for one blog

Really… I will probably have to break this mind dump up into a coup!e of few blogs…..  Let me start with I’ve been sick.     Very, very sick.  I’m not sure what type of plague stomach virus hit me, but it is the worst I’ve ever had in my life.  I couldn’t keep a single thing down for about three- four days, and I am still suffering from intense stomach cramps.  Yes I’ve already been to the doctor, only because it was so vicious I thought there might be something more serious wrong with me….  I’m still not convinced there isn’t more involved because I’m still suffering abdominal nausea and cramps…

Anyways.      During this time, I obviously wasn’t taking any of my prescription meds because I was terrified they would add additional nausea to my worsening state…  Well, of course I ended up going through a MAJOR breakdown (or three) but as of Thursday it will be a week.  I took two of my klonopin yesterday and today, but other than that, I’m off…  I talked to my husband about it, and we came to an agreement to try it..  Why?? BECAUSE MY BRAIN FEELS HEALTHIER!!!  when I realized this, I began researching the effects antipsychotic medications have on you after a period of time, and I suffer from EVERY single ailment on the list!!!  How scary is that????  I’m being carefully monitored, by my loving husband and family, and am taking care to be aware of my moods, emotions, and other things that could be altered, but I do feel so much better already….  It is scary to think that the drugs I was prescribed to improve my condition, symptoms and quality of life, actually are what caused me to sink lower than I’ve ever been in my life!!!  The images I posted were all saved right before this purge of sorts my body decided it was time for…..  Now, I look at them and think how sad they all are….  I remember who i was…  Who i am…  Who i am without the myriad of medications that have been pumped into my system by a drive through psycharist…. I’ll keep updating on how that process progresses, and move on to the second portion of my blog titled “too much for one blog:part 2”. 

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