I’m used to January being a bittersweet month and I’ve come to expect February’s to hold some sort of devastation. However, February 2012 takes the cake, and that is no small feat considering Februarys past.

Within three weeks of Pawpa getting sick, he was gone; poof, just like that. We had little time to wrap our minds around his ultimate fate, much less accept it. Once hospice took over his care I knew it was just a matter of time, but I still hoped like hell that he would beat the odds. I tried to be there for him as much as I could in his last few weeks. How could I not? He was my Pawpa and I wanted to make sure that he knew how much I loved him. When I felt his last heartbeats and realized that he was gone, I wanted nothing more than to curl up next to him and take my last breaths as well.

He was one of the few people I’ve known who truly loved me unconditionally. He was the father that mine refused to be. He wiped my tears, he made me laugh, he annoyed me, he teased me, he was always there for me and he made me feel like I mattered. He would’ve done anything for me. I regret that I didn’t appreciate him more and that I didn’t spend more time with him.

I know he wouldn’t want me to give up and let the depression overcome me, but I can’t help it. I feel like I’m losing everyone and without those I love life doesn’t mean anything to me. The fear and grief are drowning everything else out and my life has gone to shit.

My job fired me for missing six shifts while Pawpa was dying. I fought to get it back but lost. I found out Thursday night that I also lost my unemployment claim and I only have a few days left to appeal the decision. I also ended things with Sugarbear that night. And to top it all off, I’m broke and about to lose my apartment.

Everything I try to stop my life from spinning out of control so I can regain my footing fails. I’ve thought about killing myself many times over the past month. It switched from thought to plan Thursday night, but it didn’t work.

I planned on getting drunk, and then either severing a few arteries or overdosing on my blood pressure and diabetes medicine. I went to the liquor store and got the biggest cheap bottle of rum I could find and came home and started making preparations. I grabbed all the Metformin, Ambien, and Lopressor I could find and lined the bottles up on my night stand, along with a new box of razor blades. One way or another I wanted to make sure I didn’t survive.

I had a couple of shots and then my new roomie (some guy who answered my ad on craigslist) got home. He could tell I was upset and he did make an effort to get me to open up, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to pour out my dark thoughts on this perfect stranger.

He watched me slam shot after shot. He gave me a Xanax bar to settle my nerves and I took the whole thing. Shortly afterwards, I blacked out. Apparently, I semi-reached out to Dan and Shawna while I was blacked out. (Shawna and I made up the afternoon before Pawpa passed away.)  Then my roomie put me to bed. I woke up the next morning and realized I didn’t even attempt my plan. I was pissed off at myself for missing the opportunity.

I decided to talk to Tori about most of what was going on and she wanted to come over and cheer me up. I picked her up and she bought jager. We got drunk and invited Dan and Candace over. We both ended up pouring our hearts out that night. We cried and laughed and then cried some more.

The next day, Tori took me shopping and bought me a new dress and some fabulous shoes. Then we went to Granny’s. Several other family members showed up and we had a cookout. Tori and I didn’t leave until after 8:30pm. Then we went to her dad’s because his roomie offered to pay me to help him with his Chemistry homework.

When I woke up this morning I felt somewhat hopeful because I had a prescreening employment test. I passed and was told they would be calling me back for a face to face interview. Afterwards I had to rush to my doctor’s appointment.

I realized after what almost happened Thursday night that I needed to have my anti-depressant increased. I also wanted to talk to her about giving me a doctor’s note since apparently the unemployment office didn’t care that I had FMLA. I hope that they will accept a note from her that I was incapable of doing my job during the two weeks before Pawpa passed away and approve my appeal. I know it’s a hail mary, but it’s my only other option for money right now. I’m trying to find a job, but I’m still also fighting grief, depression, and suicidal ideations.

I told her about what I planned to do Thursday and she asked me if I would consider going inpatient. I told her I can’t right now. I would definitely lose my apartment and everything if I take time to go back into the hospital, besides without insurance I wouldn’t be able to go back to Brookhaven. I would be sent to the state-run hospital and I’d rather die than go there. I left out that part though. Since I wasn’t suicidal at that moment, she couldn’t legally have me involuntarily committed. She said she will write me something after she reviews my FMLA documentation and the rest of my case and it should be ready tomorrow.

After my doctor’s appointment, I received a call from a head hunter who found my résumé online. He offered me an interview with a well-known and well-respected insurance company as a customer service representative. I accepted the interview for this Thursday.

After I got home, I was in decent spirits, until I started thinking about what is going to happen if I lose the appeal, and don’t get a job soon. Then I started missing Sugarbear and regretting severing ties with him. And then I started thinking about what had really been hurting me all day… remembering that Pawpa died a month ago today.

Suicidal thoughts have danced in my head since. I can’t sleep. I don’t want to reach out for help. So I write and write and write… hoping this feeling will pass soon or that the courage to just finally get it over with will take over.

I was with Pawpa, at the hospital, for about nine hours yesterday. I got there when Jess was leaving. Mom and Granny were still there. They’ve been keeping vigil with him almost all day every day.

One of his doctors came in and told us that Pawpa has pancreatic, stomach, and lung cancer and he is still waiting for the CT results to see if it has spread to his brain. He said the only treatment option is chemo but that it is ineffective with pancreatic cancer and the side effects are terrible. He said again that they will keep him comfortable. He said he would discharge Pawpa to go home as soon as we are ready. Granny told him we’d be ready by Saturday evening. The doctor then recommended Evergreen Hospice and said he would call them for us.

A nurse from the hospice came in about an hour or so later. She explained what hospice does and what they can do to help us take care of Pawpa at home. They’ll bring a wheelchair, hospital bed and other supplies. I couldn’t stop crying.

Mom slept most of the time. After the nurse from hospice left, Granny told me she wasn’t ready to lose Pawpa. She talked about how they grew up together. She was fifteen and he was seventeen when they got married. She also talked about how much she loves him. I know this heartbreaking for her. She said, “He told me last night he wants to go home and die with dignity.”

The only justification I can think of for all these cancers to invade my Pawpa’s body is so he doesn’t have to suffer for a long time, but still have time to say his goodbyes. Less than three weeks ago, Pawpa was fine, and then boom, terminal cancer.

Pawpa’s favortite aide/sitter, Tim, came in around 4pm. Granny was exhausted but needed to run a few errands. So she and Mom left. I recognized the aide from my past. We’d had a one night stand about five or six years ago, when I worked at the bar. I tried to ignore him at first.

I sat there, next to Pawpa, holding his hand and trying to keep my tears in check. Pawpa was sitting on the side of his bed. He opened his eyes as wide as he could and looked at me. Then he fought back tears long enough to tell me how much he loves me. I couldn’t control it any longer and burst into tears. He rubbed and patted my shoulder. I got up and hugged him and we cried together.  Tim was silently watching, waiting for us to settle down, and then he helped Pawpa back into bed. Tim was great with him and Pawpa looked at me and said, “I made a new friend before I died.”  He was amazing with my Pawpa and I’m so grateful.

I started crying again and had to go outside his room to collect myself. When I came back Tim tried to comfort me a little. Later, he told me that Pawpa told him that his last wish is to go home and die on his porch. Pawpa took a nap and Tim and I talked a bit. I was careful to avoid bringing up our dalliance. We talked about his job. He told me how difficult it can be sometimes, especially now that they have him working at the Cancer Treatment Center also.

Granny called me around 6:30 to let me know she was heading back up shortly. I’m not sure why, but after that, I decided to talk to Tim about our past. He remembered me and we talked about what a small world it was. We changed the subject when Granny arrived. She had Jess, Mark, McKayla, and baby Logan with her. Tim’s shift was over at 7 but he stuck around until about 7:30. Granny hugged him before he left. 

McKayla gave me a big long hug and then I played with baby Logan. I kept thinking about how sad it was that Logan would never really know his great-grandpa and that, of course, made me start crying again.

I hadn’t eaten all day and was starting to get a migraine. I left about 8 or 8:30. I cried the whole way home. I cried on and off until I went to sleep. I woke up crying three or four times. I swear I’ve never cried so much in my life, but it beats the alternative, even though I feel like a big titty baby.

There is so much bullshit going on right now I don’t know whether to scratch my watch or wind my head. I’ve been in a form of shock over my grandfather’s health. I wasn’t prepared for this. I don’t know how to handle it in a healthy way. My first instinct was to cut because I knew that seeing my blood would help me feel better and bring on the calm numbness.

It’s been a long time since I’ve had the urge to cut, but I’m suffocating. I need relief. After I got past the urge to cut, I wanted to get drunk, once I talked myself out of that and got validation from Tori to avoid liquor, I thought about getting some strange to preoccupy myself but decided against it because I’m done using meaningless sex to cope with life. Retail therapy was out of the question thanks to having too many other financial obligations. And then I thought about smoking a bowl. I went with that option; after all it’s been nature’s cure for thousands of years.

My trip, for lack of a better word, was productive. I went through several stages.

• Stage 1: Start inner dialogue to verbalize what I’m feeling.
• Stage 2: Sort through the mess of emotions so I can make some sense out of them.
• Stage 3: Cry it out instead of bleed it out.
• Stage 4: Find a way to handle them without hurting myself.
• Stage 5: Listen to some of my favorite upbeat songs, sing and dance to get some good endorphins flowing.
• Stage 6: Eat a decent meal. I hadn’t been eating much since last Friday. I’ve lost almost a pound a day since.
• Stage 7: Take a long nap. I haven’t been getting much sleep since Pawpa’s been back in the hospital.

I called in to work my last five shifts. I had called in Friday because I was exhausted from crying so much the night before and I was so depressed I could barely get out of bed. Saturday, I was too upset to deal with people. I stayed home all day and kept busy cleaning and rearranging furniture. I was starting to feel better and planned to go back to work Sunday, but I got a call from my mom Saturday evening that re-depressed me. Pawpa was readmitted to the hospital and wasn’t doing well and that he wasn’t lucid. I spent the rest of the night crying. I couldn’t sleep. I finally passed out around 4am. When I woke up Sunday morning I had missed some calls from Tori. I texted her and she called me.

She told me that the doctor said Pawpa’s cancer spread throughout his lungs and he probably wouldn’t make it much longer. He said he could go at any time. Tori and I cried on the phone together. After I got off the phone with her, I broke down into body-shaking sobs. I was devastated. I met up with her, Bug, Jess, McKayla, and Logan at the hospital.

Pawpa brightened up when he seen us all. At first, we all cried, except Pawpa. It was hard seeing him look so helpless. We spent most of the day with him. They gave him four blood transfusions and it made him feel better. He was lucid and in good spirits. He assured us he would fight the cancer. When I left, I felt hopeful that he would get better. Bug spent the night with me.

Monday, they did more tests and biopsies, as well as a procedure to stop the internal bleeding. He wasn’t as lucid as he was Sunday and he was mean to nurses, aides, and he got rude with Granny and Jess because of the anesthesia. Tuesday was more of the same, except he wasn’t being mean to people, but he was still irritable. Before I left the hospital, he told me he loves me a lot and he wishes he could’ve done more for me. I almost cried again. I told him he’s done more than enough for me and everyone else he loves and it’s our turn to be there for him. He said, “yeah, but I wish I could’ve done more. I love you, Jennapoo. I love you lots, baby.” That was the first time he called me his pet name for me since he was re-admitted. I wanted to cry, but I made myself stay strong until I was alone in my car.

He never got mean with me and I didn’t want to give him the chance. I didn’t go see him Wednesday or today because I couldn’t handle it. I needed a break from the hospital. I did call periodically for updates on his condition. I spent most of yesterday super depressed and unable to sleep. I played a violent video game for about twelve hours straight, blowing shit up and killing bad guys to vent my frustration.

When I called my mom to find out how he was, she said that the doctor had come in but that she couldn’t talk about it right then. I texted Jess and she told me that the doctor said he thought that the cancer spread to Pawpa’s pancreas and possibly his brain and that the oncologist would be in tomorrow to let us know if treatment would help. I cried again but tried to remain hopeful.

That hope was shattered a couple of hours ago. Mom called me and said the oncologist came in tonight instead of tomorrow and said treatment won’t work and that all they can do is keep him comfortable and send him to hospice until he passes. She said that Pawpa asked to go home to die instead. I held it together until I got off the phone with her and then I broke down into hysterics. My worst fear is being realized.

I had planned on going back to work tomorrow, but I can’t. I need to spend more time with my Pawpa, besides I don’t want to break down at work.

My Pawpa has been my father-figure most of my life. I love him so much. This cancer just blindsided us all. Granny has been in poor health for years and I always expected her to pass first. I love her a lot too and that thought pained me as well, but I was semi-prepared for it. Pawpa has been healthy as a horse most of his life. I fully expected him to live well into his nineties or longer.

I am so heartbroken and shocked I just don’t know what to do or how to handle it. I just want to curl up and die with him.

I need to stop smoking. It’s getting too expensive, my job has made it harder to smoke during work hours, even on break, and the biggest reason of all: I just found out the best man¹ I’ve ever known, my Pawpa, has lung cancer.

He was rushed to the hospital last week with chest pain. He had been tired and lethargic all week and my Granny thought he might have been having another heart attack. Turns out he was severely anemic and had to have a few blood transfusions. The doctors ran more tests and found an enlarged, hemorrhaging mass in his lungs. They admitted him for several days and did a biopsy.  

The results came back and while I was visiting last night, Granny broke the news to me. Pawpa has lung cancer. We don’t know what stage it’s in or what treatment options there are yet. His doctor is referring him to an oncologist. Granny says Pawpa is depressed and she has had him on her version of suicide watch since he was diagnosed. He is so depressed; he doesn’t even want to fight it.

I’m scared. I wanted to break down and cry and hug him and tell him how much I love him, but he needs us to be strong for him. So I swallowed my tears and played the role of the optimist. After I left my grandparents house, I burst into tears while driving the twenty miles back home.

I relived all the loss from last year and I had a notion that broke my heart to even consider: what if all that loss was partly meant to prepare me for the death of my Pawpa?

I thought about how Granny’s health has finally improved and now my Pawpa is in for the fight of his life with cancer. It’s not fair. I want nothing more in this world than both of them to be in excellent health and live many, many more years.

One of the main reasons I’m trying to get healthy is so I can have a successful pregnancy. What if my beloved Pawpa is not here to see me have a child? What if my child never knows what a wonderful man my Pawpa is? How can our family survive without him?

I never was a momma’s girl because I was too busy being her mother. I was never a daddy’s girl because he was never there. I was always a Pawpa’s girl, hell, I still am. He even has a goofy nickname for me that I’ve never liked, but the possibility that he may not be around much longer to annoy me with it is devastating.

I’m also terribly worried for my Granny. She just lost her sister and a brother and her other brother is very ill himself. Now, her husband of 56+ years has cancer and may not survive it. She has her strong face on, per usual, but inside, I know she is hurting even more than I am. They bicker and annoy the hell out of each other sometimes, but they also love each other so much.

I cried myself to sleep when I got home and I’ve spent all day in bed, mostly crying. The last three Februarys have had at least one tragedy and I can officially say I hate February. I wish this was just a bad dream.

1. related to me

I began adulthood when I was five years old. It was gradual that first year, but after my mother got pregnant by my then step-father the learning curve grew steeper with each passing month. By my mother’s sixth month of pregnancy I learned Larry was an alcoholic pervert. By her seventh month, I had learned how to play opossum while being sexually assaulted. By her eighth month, I learned it was my duty to assume the responsibilities she ignored or forgot. By her ninth month, I learned how to take care of a baby because neither Larry nor my mother could be trusted to handle it. I fell in love with David the first time I saw him and I took my role as big sister very seriously. I knew I would protect him at all costs.

The day my mother and brand new baby brother were released from the hospital I learned Larry was also physically abusive and how to rescue them from him. I learned by sheer guy instinct. Larry was drunk and started arguing with my mother. She said something and he threw her up against the dryer and started slapping and punching her. He broke her glasses for the first time. I was screaming at him, trying to distract him and get him to leave her alone. The baby was crying. Mom took off outside to get away from Larry. I ran to David and picked him up; trying to soothe him and stop his crying. I was scared shitless that Larry was going to hurt him if I couldn’t settle him down.

I successfully got David to stop crying. Larry ran outside, looking for my mom. I knew if I didn’t do something to stop the fight he would hurt her badly. I was trying to figure out what do with the baby so I could go help Mom, but Larry came back in. He couldn’t find her. Then he seen me with the baby and snatched him from my arms. He ran outside screaming for my mother with the baby crying in his arms.

I knew I had to get the baby away from him, no matter what. I ran after them. I was crying, begging Larry to give me the baby. I told him he was hungry and needed to be fed. He wouldn’t give him to me. He kept screaming my mom’s name and that he had the baby. I saw her behind him. She had one of the lenses from her glasses, trying to find her way around in the dark. I saw her duck into a neighbor’s closed doorway. I went up to Larry and took the baby from him, saying it was late and if we didn’t get inside someone would call the police. I ran as fast as I could, holding the baby. When we go back to the apartment I grabbed his bottle and hid in my closet with him.

After David fell asleep, I tiptoed down the stairs, and then sneaked past Larry. I ran to the pay phone. I called my granny and told her what had happened. Pawpa was at work, but Granny told me she would be there soon. Then I went to the neighbor’s apartment to find Mom. I gave her the rest of her broken glasses and told her Granny was coming over and that the baby was fine. We went back to the apartment. Larry jumped up and started in on her again. I kept looking for Granny’s headlights and was so relieved when she finally pulled into the parking lot. I went running out to meet her. She had a big crescent wrench and went storming into our apartment. She grabbed Larry and pushed him down to the floor. She straddled him and told him to settle down or she was going to beat him with the wrench. He knew better than to raise his hand to my Granny.

I learned then that a being a big, formidable woman would help keep me and my loved ones safe. I wanted to be able to handle Larry, and men like him, the way my Granny did that night. I should’ve learned that Larry was a coward, but I didn’t, yet. I had seen him throw my Mom around like a rag doll and I knew he could break me in half if he wanted. I also learned to keep my eyes on the baby at all times when they were fighting or intoxicated, which was quite often.  I learned to step in and take the beating when I could or to get an adult involved when I couldn’t get Larry to take his aggression out on me instead. Over the years, I took a lot of abuse to protect my Mom and siblings. I don’t regret it. I would do it all over again, except blaming myself for the sexual abuse.

After meeting my hematologist, in January, I started thinking about my health and what I need to do to make it better. He told me I have to stop smoking, start exercising, and lose weight. Smoking and all the extra weight I’m carrying increases my already high risk for stroke, blood clots, heart attack, embolus, and deep vein thrombosis. Those factors no doubt attributed to my high blood pressure and diabetes as well. I’m at a point where if I don’t do something to turn the decline of my physical health around it will kill me sooner rather than later and I won’t be able to carry a baby full-term. I can’t handle another miscarriage.

A few months after I graduated high school I embarked on a journey to lose weight. I succeeded. I lost 100 pounds in eight months, but I did it in a less than healthy way. I took prescription diet pills and I severely restricted my caloric intake. It got to the point where I would fast 3-4 days a week and on the days I would it, I wouldn’t eat more than 500 calories. I isolated myself from everyone. I was starving myself. My family was worried about me and there were rumors of me using meth to lose weight, which were untrue.

I was still living with my mother at the time. My cousin, Owen, was living with us. I shut him out as well, but he was able to draw me out of my room from time to time, when he brought his friend, Layfield, over to the house. Between the two of them, I rejoined the world outside of my room. I had a very tumultuous on-off relationship with Layfield for about nine years afterwards.

I started gaining the weight back about two years later after I had lost it, when I got engaged to Raymond and got on the depo- provera shot. It took about five years, but I gained back all the weight I lost and then some. I’m about twenty pounds less than I was at my heaviest, right now.

I don’t know if I can quit smoking and I’m afraid to try just yet, so I decided to tackle my weight again, except this time I would do it in a healthier way. I’ve got plenty of bad habits to break: I eat comfort foods when I’m bored, emotional, anxious, stressed, confused, sad, afraid, or happy; I eat one or two medium to large meals a day;  I don’t drink water; I skip breakfast; I eat most late in the day; and to top it all off, I’m not very active.

I lost too many people to death last year. It started with one of my favorite uncles, then a buddy, then my favorite great-aunt, and then the best male friend I ever had. What made it harder to bear was they all died within a 60 day timeframe. Their deaths made me start thinking about my own mortality and I am unfinished. I don’t want to die like this, without accomplishing my goals. It’s time to stop putting them off because death can happen anytime, whether I’m ready for it or not.

I started making changes right after Adrian died. I switched teams and supervisors at work, I stopped dating Forrest, I started withdrawing from Sugarbear, I confided in Erick again, I all but quit talking to Charlie, and I got an apartment alone.

The supervisor change didn’t work and about a week and a half ago I got that changed back. I’ve already noticed a difference in how I feel at work, which is a good thing. I slipped up and fucked Forrest once more. I’ve been yo-yoing with Sugarbear. I realized Erick is a douchebag. I’m friends with Charlie again. The only change that has stuck so far is having an apartment alone.  

February 4^th, I started a multi-dvd exercise program called the Supreme 90 day system. It involves working out six days a week and has 10 dvds. It’s hard, even the damn warm-up gets me out of breath and starting to sweat. I’ve been eating healthier and starting to drink water as well. I did fine the first week, until I stepped on the scale and saw that I had already lost four pounds. I don’t know why, but it freaked me out. I stopped the exercise program and started giving in to cravings of pizza and ice cream. I had the urge to eat, even when I was already full.

I started my period yesterday and haven’t had many cravings since then, so I’m hoping it was just pre-menstrual hormones. This period is a painful one, thanks to the adenomyosis, and has kept me curled up with a heating pad most of the time. I plan to start back on the exercise program as soon as my period is over. I can do this. I have to do this.

I went out with Tori and Dudney Wednesday night. First, we did a little shopping for the new apartment Tori is planning to get. Then we went out to dinner at a home cooking style cafe. It was great to sit with them and just talk and joke. We spent more time laughing than we did eating. After we left there, Tori and Dudney wanted to go have a few drinks at End Up. I didn’t really want to go there. It reminds me of Paul too much and we went there for New Year’s Eve. I wanted to go to a straight bar or a lesbian bar, but Tori has social anxiety and End Up is one of the few bars she feels comfortable, so I relented.

Tori bought us round after round. She was drinking Patron shots and chasing them with Jack and Coke. Dudney was drinking Liquid Marijuana and a shot of Patron here and there. I was drinking double jagerbombs and then chasing them with the best Sex on the Beach I’ve ever had. I didn’t intend to get drunk, but I did, and I ended up having the most fun I’ve had in ages. I thought of Paul a few times while we were there and I missed him a little bit, but overall I had a great time and was glad I went.

They were playing some good songs and the more we drank the more animated we became… singing and dancing off in our little corner. The best thing about going to a mostly-male gay bar is we don’t have to worry about being judged and we are free to be our usual goofy selves.

They only had one dancer working. He was cute, but flaming. He kept trying to get me to dance with him on the pole. I was drunk, but not that damn drunk. The dancer was obsessed with my breasts and couldn’t keep his hands off them. I thought it was hilarious. Tori and I made a bet that if she danced with him by the pole then I would do the splits. We both did our part and had a blast. It’s not every day you see a big girl in a wheelchair dancing on a pole and a big girl doing the splits near the pole. That’s entertainment.

People have told me I was perceptive since as far back as I can remember. At times, my perceptiveness felt like it was its own entity which I had no control over; it had its own voice in my head. Looking back on it, I mostly perceived negative things, but that was likely caused by all the bad things around me. While growing up, I could usually read a man’s ulterior motives in a matter of seconds. I could also see all of the mistakes my mother was making or about to make and part of me hated her for them.

Age and experience has put me in similar situations at times. One of my therapists from Brookhaven thought I subconsciously put myself in those positions to try to understand how my mother could have been so foolish and to see if I could replicate an experience so I could understand why she did or didn’t do certain things. One thing I have yet to understand is how she could have not known most males I came in contact with as a child were abusing or assaulting me¹ and that is still an obstacle in our journey to have a good relationship.

My abusers ranged from cousins, step-cousins, step-uncles, family friends, neighbors, and my step-dad. Most of the abuse was sexual. My then-stepdad, Larry, was the worst culprit. He abused me any and every way he could. I learned to not wonder how much worse it could get. There is an inherent evil man within him. He fooled a lot of people into thinking he could do no wrong, but I know better… oh boy, do I.

Shawna, Larry, and scumsuckers like them can call me a liar all they fucking want, it doesn’t change the facts. Whether anyone believes me or not is not what really matters to me. The part that helps me is coming clean about my entire past, even the parts I don’t want to remember; the parts that make me feel like an outcast, freak, or a living sex toy that doesn’t deserve to be loved by anyone. If I can admit the wrongs I’ve endured, I can overcome them and let them go. I want to move past them so I can have lasting, healthy relationships, romantic as well as non-romantic.

The only significant males² in my life as a child and teenager that did not abuse or assault me were my maternal grandfather and my father. Despite my father’s absence, he was a powerful force in my life. He was a piece of shit, but I still yearned for his love and approval. Oh man, I’ve repeated that theme for most of my post-pubescent life thus far, but that’s another story altogether.

During the early stages of my treatment for my mental illnesses, I constantly doubted my perceptions because I was learning about irrational thoughts and most of my perceptions could be classified as irrational thoughts. Now, almost five years later, I still struggle to determine the difference sometimes, but I’ve also learned that just because a perception or thought is irrational doesn’t make it any less true in many cases. Shrinks and therapists can disagree with me all they want, but they can’t disregard the fact that most of my perceptions and intuitions, even in the midst of an episode, are dead-on accurate. I still analyze them to determine if they are caused by my own deep-seated fears, but for the most part, I trust them.

1. sexually, emotionally, or physically
2. non-romantically

Wow.

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BipolarChick
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Friday night I crashed your party
Saturday I said I’m sorry
Sunday came and trashed me out again
I was only having fun
Wasn’t hurting anyone
And we all enjoyed the weekend for a change

I’ve been stranded in the combat zone
I walked through Bedford Stuy alone
Even rode my motorcycle in the rain
And you told me not to drive
But I made it home alive
So you said that only proves that I’m insane

You may be right
I may be crazy
But it just may be a lunatic you’re looking for
Turn out the light
Don’t try to save me
You may be wrong for all I know
But you may be right

Remember how I found you there
Alone in your electric chair
I told you dirty jokes until you smiled
You were lonely for a man
I said take me as I am
‘Cause you might enjoy some madness for awhile

Now think of all the years you tried to
Find someone to satisfy you
I might be as crazy as you say
If I’m crazy then it’s true
That it’s all because of you
And you wouldn’t want me any other way

You may be right
I may be crazy
But it just may be a lunatic you’re looking for
It’s too late to fight
It’s too late to change me
You may be wrong for all I know
But you may be right

You may be right
I may be crazy
But it just may be a lunatic you’re looking for
Turn out the light
Don’t try to save me
You may be wrong for all I know
But you may be right
You may be wrong but you may be right
You may be wrong but you may be right

He’s driving me crazy.

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After much consideration, I decided to report Shawna’s protective order violations. The police officer left my apartment a couple of hours ago. He told me he would file the report and the DA will take it from there. He recommended I report all violations as soon as possible in the future, regardless of how trivial I may think they are. Part of the reason I waited was to get enough evidence together to prove the violations, but he told me not to worry about that because it is his job to investigate. Another thing that he said that was interesting is that this last violation may be a federal offense because she was harassing me while she was in Colorado. The feds take cyberstalking and harassment a lot more seriously than Oklahoma.

I don’t care if Shawna is prosecuted over the violations or not. I just want her to understand that I mean business and to leave me alone completely. From here on out anything I perceive as a violation will be reported to TPD. Also, if my brother starts harassing me for her, I will get a protective order against him too. I’m so done with this bullshit saga.

At the very least her latest stunt will give me grounds to get the protective order against her extended another three years or perhaps permanently. I hope to never hear from her again… I doubt that will happen though. The bitch just can’t let shit go.

I’ve taken precautions. I’ve moved, Facebook was her last method of attack, but now that is gone too. I blocked her, David, Sarah, and Tracy from contacting me on Facebook. I’ve also made it where only people on my friends list can message me on my personal Facebook profile. I’ve made my more personal blog posts viewable by logged in users only so I can track if she tries to stalk or harass me via my blog again and so she won’t be able to keep up with the intimate details of my life anymore. I don’t regularly use other social networking sites or chat on yahoo or anything like that, so she can’t bother me that way either. The last thing to do is change my phone number and I’ll be doing that next week.

Today, I just kicked back and relaxed with Jacob and Salem¹. We re-arranged some furniture, watched movies, and played video games. Then for dinner I cooked us breakfast foods. Jacob loved it. We had a good time. He’s my oldest nephew and we’ll always have a close connection. He also knows he can always come to me and I will do whatever I can for him. Since I haven’t had my own children yet, I dote on my nieces and nephews like crazy. They have me wrapped around their fingers and they know it too.

Today was also Jess and Granny’s birthday. I didn’t go to see them because that’s what the dinner yesterday was for and money is still tight so I couldn’t go out with Jess and everybody. I’ll be caught up soon and then I’ll get to do more with my family. I love them all so much and I don’t want them to ever doubt it.

The only reason I really wrote this is because I’m trying to stick with my write for at least 10 minutes a day resolution.

1. my new black cat

I spent some time with my mom and grandparents earlier. I had made roast and vegetables for dinner. It turned out pretty damn good. It wasn’t perfect, but it was only the second time I’ve made a roast. Granny had also gone to the doctor yesterday and got good news. Her defibulator/pacemaker is finally helping. The last adjustment they made worked and the doctor is taking her off some of her medications. Hearing that was a big relief. With all the loss the second half of 2011 brought, it is wonderful to have some great news for a change. Granny’s health is important to me. I couldn’t handle losing her or Pawpa.

After dinner, I went to the movies with Tori, Jules, Noodles, and Bug. We watched “The Devil Inside.” We were disappointed with the ending, but most of the rest was decent. I talked with Bug and Jules about the shit either Shawna or David was emailing me on Christmas Eve. I let them read the messages for themselves so they could see the kind of lies and venom they spew. It’s sad that he/she is still so bitter. I stopped caring about the situation a long time ago, when I got the protective order. Shawna’s obsession just amuses me now. She used all her ammunition and can’t hurt me anymore. That doesn’t keep her from trying though. The only thing she really has left to exploit is my love for my brother, but I am able to deal with that by pretending he is still in prison.

Jules came home with me to spend the rest of the weekend. We’re gonna have some fun. He’s gonna love my cat.

Forrest was messaging me on Facebook, trying to convince me to continue our relationship, but I think I finally go through to him, that I don’t want to be with him.

Around the beginning of September I was frustrated with Sugarbear and ready to give up on our relationship. Things were at a stand-still and I couldn’t stand it anymore. There was a guy that I started talking to several years ago that popped back up. I agreed to go out on a date with him and Sugarbear knew about it. I told him that I was done putting my life on hold. I have needs and I needed some physical attention.

I didn’t plan to have sex with Forrest on our first date, but he made a move and I was so horny I couldn’t resist. It had been almost nine months since I had sex. As a person, I could barely stand Forrest, but as a lover… I was very satisfied, but he annoyed me to no end. He was asking me to be his girlfriend the next morning. I couldn’t in good conscience commit to him. I’ll never have feelings for him, hell, I can barely stand him. I wanted him in my life for one thing, a good time. I also knew I wasn’t anywhere near over Sugarbear. I still had hope that me dating would light a fire under his ass to kick it up a notch. I didn’t have some malicious plan and I wasn’t trying to manipulate Sugarbear. I was prepared to move on and that’s what I was doing.

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David and/or Shawna tried to ruin my Christmas Eve. However, it didn’t work. All he/she accomplished was getting Granny pissed off. I think it’s pathetic that he/she/they would wait until Christmas Eve to try to stir up drama, but that’s Shawna’s style. She tries to emotionally hurt people as badly as she can. Her tactics don’t work on me anymore. I’d have to give a shit about what they thought for that to happen and quite honestly, I couldn’t give a fuck less.

The only reason I am writing this is because Granny asked me to do so. She said, “I want you and Jess to tell that spiteful bitch that I SAID THIS SHIT BETTER FUCKING STOP! This is bullshit! Our family didn’t have any fights or trouble like this until that BITCH-WITCH came along. She needs to grow up and stop bothering you. So does David Leslie if he’s involved in this crap too. IT’S BULLSHIT!” Anyone who knows my Granny knows she can’t stand the ‘F’ word. She only uses it when she really means it. I’m posting Granny’s warning because I know Shawna still obsessively stalks me via my blog and social networking sites despite the protective order, so this is the best means to get it to her without actually having to interact with the evil cunt and violate my own protective order.

Granny, Mom, Jess, and Taylor all read the messages. Mom is convinced it was all Shawna, pretending to be David and doesn’t even think David knows about it. Granny and Taylor think Shawna did it all, but that David knew about it. Jess and I think David and Shawna both were doing it. I want to think what my mom thinks, but I don’t. None of us think it was David acting alone. Shawna was definitely involved in the harassment, which is a direct violation of the protective order.

For those of you who aren’t Shawna, David, or know either of them you’re probably a bit curious about what this is all about. If you’ve been reading my blog for a couple of years or if you’ve read old posts then you have an idea of what’s going on. For those that don’t, I’ll explain.

Shawna was my best friend since I was like 18. A couple of years ago, when my younger brother got out of prison, he hooked up with her at a party I threw for him. Our family didn’t like it from the start because Shawna is my age¹ and she had three kids by three different men already. At first, I was happy for them. Less than two weeks after they got together, they were engaged, and I agreed to be the Maid of Honor. About a week after that, Shawna announced she was pregnant and claimed my brother was the father. Warning bells sounded in my head, but Shawna was my best friend, so I gave her the benefit of the doubt. Everyone else in my family said from the start there was no way the baby could be David’s biologically. During the two weeks before David had sex with Shawna, she was fucking at least three other men that I know about.

After another week or two, I couldn’t ignore the feeling any longer. My instincts told me from the start that she was conning my brother. I told him what I thought was going on. I wanted him to have the choice to marry her, not the obligation. It backfired and she manipulated him into isolating himself from our family. After the baby was born, I became even more certain that David is not the biological father. I, along with Tori and Jess, offered to pay for the paternity test. David was more than willing, but Shawna fought it every way she could. She started huge fights and told my brother all kinds of lies about stuff I was supposedly doing and saying and he believed her. The day we were supposed to go for the test she started another big fight and the test ended up not being done, again. I realized that day that she would block the test from being done for as long as possible and David would go on believing her bullshit over his own family. So I made the choice to get her out of my life. The only way I could get her to leave me alone was to get a protective order. I was fed up with it all and wanted the drama to stop.

After the protective order was granted, she had no choice but to stop harassing me or face jail. She still tried to turn other family members against me though. It didn’t work. Most of my relatives are not as foolish as my brother. Once she realized she couldn’t turn the ones I care about against me, she backed off. She still obsessively read my blog, but she was smart enough not to comment and harass me that way anymore. I pretty much forgot she existed and it stayed that way for the most part until Christmas Eve, when she started harassing me through David or David’s Facebook profile. I’m going to post the messages in their entirety. I didn’t respond too much to them because it was pointless. Most of what was said via David’s profile was lies or exaggerations and I’ll explain those too. Without further ado, here are the messages.

From David’s Profile

My Explanation:

• I knew the 5 year part was probably an over-estimation, but I was angry and just posted whatever first came to mind. When I wrote my responses, I thought it was David, but after re-reading them, it is clearly Shawna, pretending to be David.  I never did anything to isolate Aiden from my family. David and Shawna did that all on their own by refusing to bring him to visit them. I didn’t make anyone in the family believe Aiden wasn’t David’s they ALL thought that on their own and before I even thought it. In fact, it took several of them to get me to acknowledge that I was having doubts about it myself.
• As for the accusations of me stalking Shawna, oh man, this makes me laugh my ass off. First of all, I don’t look at anything about her because I don’t give a rats ass if she lives or dies. Second, there is no proof of me looking at her wall because I don’t do it. Third, I moved on the day the protective order was granted in my favor. I have never logged on to Taylor’s profile to look at Shawna’s facebook wall. There was one time, last June, when I read some messages on Facebook between Shawna and Taylor, but it was an accident. Taylor had gone camping with me, Tori, and James and we got into a fight. We made up after a week or so and she moved back in at my apartment. Taylor² was living with me. She used my desktop to surf the net and get on Facebook and stuff. She was supposed to use the Guest profile, but she used mine a lot instead because it had more access. One day, I had gotten on Facebook and seen there was a message notification. I clicked on it and it was from Shawna. At first, I was like why the fuck is this bitch violating the protective order and how did she get past the privacy block on Facebook? Then I noticed that it was on Taylor’s profile. I read the messages because I seen where Shawna was talking about me, trying to turn Taylor against me. I still didn’t look at Shawna’s wall. Then I asked Taylor what was going on. After that, I was curious about how my brother was doing, so I looked at his wall. I also wanted to see if Aiden was finally starting to look at all like David. Then I logged out and into my own profile and I’ve never been on Taylor’s profile again. I swear on everything and everyone I love that is the truth. I don’t look at anything related to Shawna because I don’t care about her in the slightest bit. She is dogshit on the bottom of my shoe.
• After that, I told Taylor to not discuss me with Shawna or discuss Shawna to me. Taylor told Shawna the subject of me is off limits. Anyone else find it weird that Shawna waited six months to confront me about it on Christmas Eve?

From David’s Profile

• You are the one that told everyone he wasnt mine. Have you seen recent pics of him of coarse you have you stalk my wifes facebook. He looks JUST LIKE ME when I was younger, my grandma pearl and MOM say so. You wont ever admit it cause you totally smashed our relationship and ruined my relationship with half of my family. You never have been able to just mind your own business. you always have been and always will be a cunt and drama queen. No worries here I will be leaveing you alone from here. But as i said if i find out your stalking my wife still after this we will be taking our proof to the court house go ahead and push me call my bluff i want you to i would love nothing more then to see you go to jail over your own fake ass false police report and protective order. Take a look and see what nonsense you ruined lives and family relationships over stupid bitch and NEVER contact me again! OR stalk my wives facebook! Or I will make sure you have to uphold the protective order the same she has! and there is time limits if you take shit in right now… they will ask you why you didnt bring it in then and they would see you then for the dramatic shit starting cunt you are! so get real. and carah asked for the info so there no way you can turn shawna in for it. but you guys are all so well at falsifying shit like you did with this WHOLE protective order and police shit anyway, Shawna never stalked you or harrassed you! You were the one stalking and harrassing us because i didnt do what you and Jessica wanted! so shut the fuck up i saw you for who you guys really are now and dont give two shits what happens to you guys as long as you leave my wife alone and stop using taylors facebook to see whats going on in our lives, and taylor and jacob have both saw you on taylors facebook looking at shawnas facebook and will witness to it for us already asked them!
• and I hate to tell you this but even if you did have any kind of proof on my wife WHICH YOU DONT she wouldnt go away for 5 years over a first offense, you’d be lucky if she got more then a warning dumbass! on top of the fact i have seen people violate po’s over and over and never spend more then a night in jail, you really do live in your own little world
• oh and just so you know, Lisa already sent an email to shawna apologizing for LYING to you when she got pissed at Shawna so Shawna also has that email, so there goes half of your so called proof right there.
• any and all your info and “proof” is all lies dumbass cunt
• My Response
  • We’ll see about that, asshole

• At this point, I suspected it was Shawna. I was using my iPhone because I had just moved and didn’t have my internet working yet, so I didn’t really respond much. Besides, if it was Shawna, I knew my arguments wouldn’t matter and it’d just be a waste of my time. Arguing with her is like arguing with a fence post, as my Granny says.
• Once again, I didn’t tell anyone in the family that the baby wasn’t David’s, every single one of them said it to me first. She posted a picture of Aiden from October to try to prove that Aiden looks like David. Honestly, Aiden looks more like Lee than ever now. Mom may have told David that Aiden looks like him, but it’s only because she is trying to get him to talk to her more. She still thinks Aiden is Lee’s.
• They can blame me for the severed relationships all they want, but no one in my family told them they didn’t want anything to do with them. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Many family members decided to keep their opinions to themselves about the paternity and avoid the subject with David because they didn’t want to jeopardize their relationship with him and he still cut them off.
• As for my police report and protective order being fake, they are definitely not and I did not lie. I just printed off my blog posts and the comments Shawna made under other people’s names, then I showed them the phone records and transcripts of the text messages. I had no need to lie and I still don’t. I’m not stupid enough to file a false police report or lie to a judge. Shawna just tries to convince people I did so she doesn’t look like the obsessive psycho stalker that she is.
• I haven’t reported protective order violations sooner because she didn’t accomplish anything by breaking it and because as far as I knew she didn’t try to contact me directly. All I wanted from the protective order was her to stop harassing me. I don’t want ANYTHING whatsoever to do with her.
• I think it’s hilarious that they continue to say I’m the one stalking and harassing them.
• To address this further, let’s define a few terms:
• Harass – to disturb persistently; torment, as with troubles or cares; bother continually; pester; persecute; to trouble by repeated attacks, incursions, etc., as in war or hostilities.
• Harassment – the act or an instance of harassing,  or disturbing, pestering, or troubling repeatedly; persecution.
• Stalk - to pursue or approach prey, quarry, etc., stealthily; to proceed in a steady, deliberate, or sinister manner.
• Stalking – the act or an instance of stalking, or harassing another in an aggressive, often threatening and illegal manner; of or pertaining to the act of pursuing or harassing.
• Who contacted who here? When was the last time I knowingly engaged in conversation with Shawna? When was the last time I initiated any contact with her at all?
• As for proof of the violations, I have plenty. I have the IP logs from when she would view my blog. I have emails from Lisa saying Shawna was commenting on my blog while pretending to be her as well as other emails from Lisa talking about Shawna would try spying on me anyway she could. Shawna knew Lisa had told me the truth because I wrote about it on my blog and posted some of the emails. Shawna claims Lisa was lying but she’s just trying to cover her ass. Even if Lisa was lying, which I doubt, I have plenty of other proof. I have emails between Carah and Shawna that Carah sent me. I have the messages from Shawna to Taylor about me. I have 4 witnesses who have seen Shawna on my blog and Facebook as well.
• Concerning punishment for the violations, I really don’t care what happens to her, I just want her to leave me alone. I don’t want her in my business or life in any way.

• your threats dont mean shit anymore, you dont have a protective order against me, and you dont have shit on my wife that you can use, because a woman that hates my wife claims she did something? And she is your friend? Think they are going to believe that? The email was from over 2 yrs ago you cant use that anymore. your shit is pathetic and shows how much a waste of skin you really are. you try to play the role of the poor innocent victim but yet your the one that created all of this! you started it all and you have kept it all going! I have emails of people telling us that you have used taylors facebook to look at shawnas and your computer under the circumstances can be used to see just how much you really do look at shawna’s facebook, then you have broke your own protective order. You lie about half the shit in your blog, i have read it where you say i gave you the benefit of the doubt and never said i didnt want shit to do with you anymore, and that i wanted the paternity test for LEE? your a lying ass bitch and you know it. i made if very clear in the beginning of all this that after it settled i wanted nothing to do with your ass and i never once gave a fuck about getting the test for lee i wanted it to try and save mine and your relationship until i see just how shady and what a liar you still are, i thought you had changed from when we were younger but you havent. and you didnt raise me bitch my grandma pearl did! so quit fuckin telling people that too! lying cunt!
• just like in your blog you made it sound like you cut our relationship? bullshit bitch i called you and told you no matter if shawna and i were together or not i wanted nothing to do with you ever again. but you told everyone you washed your hands of me, always have to make it look like you have the upper hand and you made decisions. all because you cant tell all your pathetic ass followers that someone actually saw you for YOU and rid their life of you! My life has been way better since I got rid of you, now you come back around stalking shawna’s facebook by using your little cousins facebook? how pathetic is that? And you pop back up and look, here we are LEAVE MY FAMILY ALONE!!! I have saved these emails as well, and I am really considering taking taylor and jacob up on the offer of being witnesses and pressing charges on you, so go ahead and make your threats, because I promise, you will lose, you never bothered to bring up in your whole protective order thing that you posted a new born babys picture on the internet for millions to see without the parents permission i have that post printed off and ready to go, spoke to an attorney and thats illegal due to child abuse and all that shit now a days, and lord knows you DID NOT HAVE OUR PERMISSION to post that picture on the internet. BACK OFF MY FAMILY BITCH AND I MEAN IT!!! and dont email back im done and blocking you now!
  • My Response
  • You are such a fool. You believe anything. Btw I KNOW Aiden is Lee’s biological son. You do too that’s why you’re too scared to get the paternity test! Prove me wrong! You won’t because you can’t because he has Lee’s DNA, not yours. And for the last time, I don’t look at her fb. I read emails between her and Taylor once and it was not on purpose. So fuck you.

• In my last response, I was really harsh, but it was just an attempt to goad David into getting the paternity test done to prove me wrong.
• In the first part of this response he/she basically admitted what they said about Lisa lying was bullshit. Also he/she is trying to say some of my proof can’t be used, which is untrue. I checked with the police and a lawyer and was told that the statute of limitations does not run out until after the protective order expires. They may wonder why I waited to report the violations, but that won’t stop them from prosecuting over them.
• As for the accusation that I try to play the role of poor innocent victim, I say bullshit. Anyone who knows me knows I don’t play victim. I’m a survivor and a fighter. I haven’t kept anything going between Shawna and I since the protective order was granted in my behalf. They don’t have any proof of me using Taylor’s facebook to stalk Shawna because I haven’t done so in any way, shape or form. As for my computer being used as evidence, that’s fine because it will show that I don’t do what they’re claiming. That wouldn’t happen anyway though. Besides, even if I did what she claims, which I didn’t, they couldn’t prove it because so many different people use my computers. Additionally, looking at anything related to Shawna does not violate my protective order. She doesn’t have a protective order against me. The only way I could violate my own protective order is by contacting her or letting her around me, which I haven’t done.
• I rarely lie and when I do, it’s usually a white lie to protect someone’s feelings. I.e. do these jeans make my butt look big… No, of course not. I detest liars and anyone who knows me knows it. It’s one of the first things people learn about me. If anything, many people think I’m too blunt and honest. As for my blog, I’ve never lied in anything I’ve written, that would contradict my whole purpose for blogging. Shawna tried to use a lot of stuff I blogged against me, but it backfired on her because everything I wrote was true. All she accomplished was further alienating herself from my family by trying to make me seem like a liar and it made them believe me even more.
• As for the conversations between my brother and myself that I blogged about, it was 100% truth and Tori witnessed them. About me cutting him from my life, I blogged about that before he called me parroting what she said, so it was me who washed my hands of it. My readers know me for me more than a lot of people in my real life because I’m so blatantly honest about myself and my experiences and none of my readers are pathetic, except her.
• I’m sure David and Shawn’s life is great. They keep bouncing from job to job and trailer to trailer because they keep getting evicted. Shawna’s teenage son has been doing drugs and getting tattoos since he was thirteen. They’re so great that David stole his Grandma Pearl’s RV and burglarized her house for almost $20,000 worth of jewelry. He’s lucky that Pearl doesn’t want to be responsible for him going back to prison.
• Jacob and Taylor never volunteered to be witnesses for Shawna or David. I asked them both about it. They are upset that Shawna and David are trying to drag them into the drama. The good news about Shawna doing this is that Jacob and Taylor are starting to see her for what she really is: a lying, manipulative, vindictive bitch. She almost succeeded in pitting Taylor against me until Taylor seen these messages. Haha, another backfire on Shawna.
• As for the evidence presented during the protective order hearing, I did include the post of the poll with Aiden’s picture because that is where a lot of Shawna’s harassing comments were posted. I also presented every single post that had anything to do with Shawna because I didn’t want to be accused of omitting evidence. As for my rights to posting the picture of Aiden, legally³ I am Aiden’s aunt and the picture was taken with my phone, so I didn’t need permission from anyone to post it. Nor will I need permission to post the picture he/she attached to these messages.
• I was harsh in my responses because I was angry that she/he was trying to ruin my Christmas Eve and even though almost everything she/he said was a lie it was still hurtful because I thought it was coming from David. When someone is trying to hurt me, I instinctively retaliate, usually verbally. Once I realized it was from Shawna, it no longer affected me at all.

After my last response, I blocked his profile from being able to contact me. Then less than two minutes later, I received this message from Shawna’s oldest son’s profile.

Skittzz IsSuch Akittycat

• This is for my dad, he said to tell you that he would actually have to give a fuck about your fat stupid ass to want to prove shit to you, that he has the proof he needs, you arent and never will be a part of our lives and thats why you know nothing about anything, but i can tell you when my mom and dad were going to seperate there was a paternity test done, and lee knows about it all too. Guess you were left out cause no one gives a shit about you. Lol and dont bother harrassing me like you did my dad cause i am blocking you right now. 

I blocked that profile without responding at all because by then I realized it was Shawna pretending to be Connor just like she had pretended to be Lisa, Tracy, David, and others, in the past. I also blocked her daughter’s profile so she couldn’t harass me on it. A few days later, I heard that she made her kids tell anyone who was friends with me they couldn’t be friends with them. Really pathetic.

The truth of the matter is, there still has not been a paternity test done because Shawna doesn’t want the truth of Aiden’s paternity coming out. It will prove her to be the lying bitch I already know she is. She has lied to people a lot about a test being done, but she will never show the results and then they figure out that she is lying again. She wants to keep David mad at me as long as possible because it buys her time from doing the paternity test. That’s the only reason she keeps trying to stir up shit.

The picture that was attached in a messages from David’s profile:

I still think he looks like Lee. Judge for yourself http://bipolarchick.net/blog/2009/08/which-man-is-aidens-biological-father/

David is 1, Russ is 2, and Lee is 3.

1. 6 years older than David
2. along with her mom and brothers
3. since David claimed Aiden

I’m not usually one for holiday traditions. I don’t put up a Christmas tree or decorate my home for Christmas and I often don’t participate in gift or card exchanges. I don’t eat black-eyed peas on New Year’s Day. I don’t celebrate Easter. I rarely celebrate Valentine’s day, Memorial Day, or Labor Day.The only holidays I typically celebrate are Independence Day, Halloween, Thanksgiving, and New Year’s Eve.

I don’t really have anything against holidays or traditions, I’m just indifferent to them. Major religious holidays like Christmas and Easter don’t suit me because I’m not a Christian. However, most of my family members are Christian so I will try to get together with them on Christmas and or Christmas Eve.

Moving out alone prompted other changes and I view it as a fresh start. I spent Christmas Eve with my mom and grandparents, despite drama Shawna and/or David tried to stir up. After work on Christmas Day I went back out to my grandparents’ house and celebrated with them. I ate black-eyed peas on New Year’s Day for the first time in at least five years, probably closer to ten. I want to keep the momentum going, so I’ll make some resolutions for the upcoming year albeit a few days late.

1. Write for at least 10 minutes a day.
2. Update my blog regularly.
3. Get my new apartment organized and get rid of shit I don’t need or use.
4. Keep up with the positive changes I started in 2011.
5. Do something good for myself daily.
6. Spend more quality time with people I care about and keep drama queens out of my life.
7. Improve my health by making smarter choices when it comes to what I put in my body.
8. Be more active.
9. Start building a nest egg.
10. Learn a new skill and/or hobby.

I think these are reasonable and attainable goals and I look forward to keeping them.

This applies to all relationships, not just romantic ones. Once I cut the destructive people out of my life, it drastically improved.

Overall, I would call 2011 a bad year, but it had its moments:

Best Moments

1. My beautiful nephew, Logan, was born.
2. My sister married a good man who truly loves her.
3. I didn’t have any cutting episodes.
4. I stopped basing my relationships on sex and I let myself truly get emotionally involved with a man for the first time since Erick.
5. My heart didn’t get broken.

Worst Moments

1. Uncle Butch, Bill, Aunt Nita, and Adrian died… all within two months of each other.
2. My mother was committed to TCBH again.
3. I realized my relationship with my brother is irredeemable.
4. I had some major financial difficulties due to taking on too much responsibility where my family was concerned.
5. I was diagnosed with a couple of disorders that were the likely cause of my miscarriages.

However, four of the five worst moments turned out for the best.

• TCBH was able to get my mother semi-stabilized and she is making progress. We are rebuilding our relationship.
• I love my brother and nothing will ever change that, but a relationship with him is negative for me. He lies to and steals from his family and he chose a manipulative, selfish, conniving liar as his wife. He chose her over his own blood and then tried to blame it on me. It’s kind of ironic really; he chose to believe a pathological liar over his own sister, who has never lied to him. He also conveniently forgot that I was the only person in his family who supported their relationship at all, until I couldn’t deny the truth about her pregnancy and motives any longer. Nevertheless, it worked out; I am a gazillion times better off without him and Shawna in my life.
• I gave up the apartment I had with Dudney because I couldn’t bear the financial burden of five other people. I made it almost nine months and then I realized I couldn’t keep putting everyone else’s needs above my own. Sugarbear validated my feelings and that was the final push I needed to make the decision to get my own apartment again… Just me. I need to recharge and relax. The stress was unmanageable.
• Getting tested for the cause of my recurrent miscarriages was difficult. I was terrified because I thought I would hear something like, “You cannot have children. There is no hope.” Instead, I was told it was risky, but very possible for me to carry a baby to term under certain guidelines. It hurt to think about my lost babies and what could have been, but once I faced that and got an answer, it helped; my guilt was assuaged. I learned that I was not to blame for the miscarriages.

The only bad things that happened this year that I cannot put a positive spin on are the deaths of four of my loved ones. I mourned all the loved ones I lost this year, but the one that grieved me most was Adrian. I still grieve for him. Without him, I feel an emptiness that no one or nothing can fill, but each day it hurts a little less. I’ll never forget the kindness and love he showed me. He was my protector, my rescuer, and my hero.

2011 ended wonderfully. I got an apartment alone and started focusing on myself and what I want instead of putting everyone else first. 2012 will be a great year!

I’m feeling much better emotionally. Sugarbear and I had a good talk last night. He sent me another pic of him all smiley and gorgeous. I’ve known him for over three years and we’ve been, as lame as it sounds, courting for the past year, as of December 12^th.  I’m ridiculously attracted to him. He still gives me butterflies, just as he did from day one. We are still a bit guarded with each other sometimes, but he opened up some tonight.

He’s off his pedestal, but I still want him. No man in my entire life has kept me interested without sex for a year. The closest was Erick, with eight months… and I thought Erick and I moved painfully slow. Haha, if I only knew then… Well, come to think of it, I’m glad I didn’t know what was going on because I really loved Erick with as much as my heart as I could and had I known the truth from the start, I would not have experienced that with him. Not excusing him, but I know things would have been very different and I don’t want that. He’s turned into a jerk, either that or my blinders are off and I have the benefit of hindsight. Can’t change the past but I can prevent it from repeating.

When something is really bothering me, I sometimes vent to or bounce ideas off of Sugarbear. I trust him and he doesn’t judge me. I had already told him about my living situation¹. Sugarbear never tries to force a solution down my throat. He listens to me, which gives me the opportunity to stand back, evaluate the situation, and come up with my own fix, and then he will give me his opinion. I knew my next check would be pretty good because it would have my sales incentive. I thought about what to do. I could either spend my entire check trying to stay afloat where I was the only person working. That didn’t sound appealing, especially because I knew I’d be back in the same place within a couple of weeks. My other choice was to allow the eviction and either get my own apartment or move in with my grandparents. I wanted to get my own place. I told him I was considering moving out alone. He thought it was the best solution for me. I like that he is looking out for my best interest.

The tough part will be in implementing my new plan. I still feel guilty for throwing in the towel. I worry about where the kids will go and I will miss them. Dylan and I are really close. However, Sugarbear keeps reminding me that I’ve been taking care of them for almost nine months and it’s time to put myself first. I had already made the decision, but without his validation, I probably would have let guilt and sympathy prevent me from changing my priorities and putting myself first and I would pour all my money into keeping a roof over their heads and the utilities on yet again.

I started apartment hunting via craigslist and the Tulsa World classifieds earlier. I’m off tomorrow so I’m gonna go box hunting and try to narrow down my choices. I don’t get paid until Friday, so I’ll get up early Friday morning and go looking at apartments.

Adrian’s passing proved to me that death just takes an instant and we’re never guaranteed tomorrow. It’s time to do what I want and consider what’s best for me. I deserve some happiness before I die. The season for sacrifice is over. “It’s a new day. It’s a new dawn. It’s a new life for me.”

1. My cousin and her three kids moved in with me and Dudney a couple of weeks before her husband went back to jail. Shortly after he was locked back up, she lost her job and didn’t bother looking for a new one. Things were tough but Dudney and I managed to keep everything paid up for about six months. Then Dudney was fired and I was the last one working. He was convinced he’d get unemployment so he didn’t bother looking for a job. We found out it was denied a few days ago. There is no way I can come up with almost a 1000 for rent, water, & late fee, plus the 400 for electric, not to mention the other household bills and necessities.

I’ve been fighting a depressive episode for a few months. I’ve been able to keep it at bay for the most part, until today. Today it is totally kicking my ass. I feel like the sky is falling and I’m helpless to stop it. A part of me would love nothing more than just the sweet peace of oblivion, but the wiser part of myself knows that is the depression and if I can keep myself safe long enough the feeling will pass. PMS isn’t helping the matter any either. One minute I’m crying, overwhelmed, wanting to die, the next I’m ready to fight and find some solutions to everything that is threatening my autonomy and quality of life.

I’m ready to give up and stop helping people, because they only take it for granted and won’t help themselves. They take advantage of my love or compassion and use me until everything is gone or until someone else they can bleed dry comes along. I get tired of being responsible too, but I don’t mooch off of people or expect them to financially support me. I have taken care of others since I was five years old. Even when I got an apartment alone about a month and a half after Paul and I split up. First, I was taking care of his niece, and then D.W., one of my nephews and his sister would stay with me at least a couple of nights a week, then my mom. I’ve never actually lived completely alone for more than a couple of weeks at a time. I’ve been thinking about giving it a shot. I have to do something. I am done. It’s time to take care of me only for a change.

I was watching the 11th episode of “Homeland,” one of my favorite shows earlier, and it was confirmed that the main character is bipolar. She was shown in the depths of a manic episode. Her mentor witnessed her episode and blamed himself for her illness. He had apologized to her for failing her and blamed himself. When she started coming down she told him, “I’ve had this since college. You didn’t do anything, I just came this way.” That just hit so close to home. Partly because I’m bipolar and partly because I’ve cared for other people who are bipolar. Unassigning blame lightens the burden of this illness and makes it more bearable.

Long before I was diagnosed and started getting treatment I had episodes in varying degree of severity, the worst ones usually ended up with a suicide attempt and me emotionally hurting people I loved. They would blame themselves, but my behavior was not their fault.

I’ve also been on the flip side and blamed myself for a bipolar loved ones behavior or feelings.

The following passage is a scene with the main character and her father. He is trying to talk her down from her manic mountain.

Father: “It feels good up there doesn’t it, like you’re the queen of the world.”

 

Carrie: “YESSSSSS!!!! EXACTLY!!!!!”

 

Father: “But you’re not, Carrie. When I’m there, I’m just like you, you know, lots of gut feelings, things that I HAVE to do, but there’s good gut and then there’s bad.”

 

Carrie: “Yeah.”

 

Father: “Well, sometimes, I think I need to empty my refrigerator and set it on fire… you know, that’s what my gut says.”

 

Carrie: “That’s bad gut.”

 

Father: “And if I wait awhile. I realize it.”

Talk about nailing it… This episode was obviously written by someone with more than a little experience with bipolar disorder. It was phenomenal. They depicted it in an honest way, without stereotypes attached. I love that they waited until the second before last episode of the season to reveal one of Carrie’s manic episodes. I think it will make people who have watched the show who know little to nothing about what bipolar disorder is really like understand it more and reduce the stigma. Well done, Showtime!

I heard about a woman getting busted for mixing up meth ingredients today in a Wal-mart a few miles from my home. The story irritated me. The reporter was so high and mighty while reporting the details. And the one witness she interviewed made harsh judgments about the woman, saying things like, “If you’re broke get a job…” Blah, blah, blah. Um, has she noticed the job market lately? How is a minimum wage job going to support a family?

I’m not condoning her behavior, by any means, and she should be held accountable. However, I understand why some people may do things like this. Cooking meth does not automatically make someone a horrible person or just another tweeker. It makes them desperate; desperate for money, a high, or power, etc. Oftentimes, especially with the economy in the toilet, the government and charity doesn’t come through. There are people out there, down on their luck, no job, no money, with kids to feed and bills to cover.

Common Scenario: Unemployment runs out or was denied, car breaks down, you can’t find a job, you can’t get a loan, no savings left, and there is no one to help you get back on your feet. There are just hungry kids who you would do anything for because you love them with your entire being. You need money fast, you got a lawyer to pay, a final cut off notice for electric, eviction notice, and Christmas to pay for, among other things. The food stamps ran out and there is another week and a half until you get more. A deadbeat dad that doesn’t help support your kids. You can’t stand the thought of your children in a shelter, group home, or foster home. You can sell your body or you can get into the drug business… What do you do?

Drugs are a problem, but they are a subset of a much bigger issue; poverty. If poverty is reduced, drug crimes will diminish as well. There are bad people in the drug business, but few are actually kingpins or enforcers. It is mostly single-mother, work mules aka middlemen that keep it going along with the rich and not-so-rich addicts funding it.

I am not a single-mother or a meth cook, but I grew up in the ghetto and I’m familiar with that element. I was the oldest of three kids. My mother worked two jobs, got food stamps and we lived in a section 8 home, after she left her abusive, alcoholic husband. She only had a high school diploma and couldn’t get a job outside of the restaurant industry. Despite receiving some aid, she couldn’t make ends meet and resorted to selling marijuana to supplement her income. Did this make her a bad mother or bad person? No, it just made her poor and desperate. I resent many choices my mother made, but selling marijuana is not one of them. She did what she had to so she could support her children.

I’m sick of judgmental, holier-than-thou, people passing judgment on others, but never bothering to judge themselves. On a personal level, I hate meth. Meth ruins lives, but it is a symptom of bigger problems. If we start tackling those bigger issues then the drug problem will diminish. The war on drugs has been a resounding failure, as was alcohol prohibition… it’s time to find another way to fix this problem.

As Einstein so eloquently said, “Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.”