Tuesday, November 30, 2004


I looked across the room and I caught his eye. My heart skipped a beat. He was looking back at me. I hadn't seen him in SO long. He looked good. He looked handsome. He looked SEXY. He looked happy. I could read his thoughts, in his deep brown eyes. He had missed me. I had missed him. I wondered where he had been and why he went there. I knew where I had been and why I had gone there. It was a forced departure. Not one I was happy with. I wondered if he had been happy with it. No, I knew deep down he had not been happy with it. It was something that just happened. The pressures and stresses of life pushed us apart. Little by little until the crevice between us was huge. Until each thought the other no longer cared. Until each thought the other's heart was full of disdain and hate. How could we have been so foolish. We did still care after all this time. After all the pain. After all the abrasiveness we had felt for each other.

As I looked at him I felt one hot tear stream down my cheek, my lips began to tremble just a bit. He saw that tear. Maybe it glistened in the light as it descended my face. Maybe he felt it rip at his heart. Maybe he knew me that well. Once upon a time he did know me that well, we used to joke that we were twin souls. Whatever the reason, he walked toward me. He embraced me.

"I love you", he said.

"I have missed you so much, I was so afraid I would never see you again, I have felt so alone with out you" the tears became uncontrollable at this point. He held me and stroked my hair, and he whispered, "I've missed you too, I am so glad I am back, don't be sad I will never leave you again. Thank you for waiting for me, thank you for being patient".

In that moment I knew that "we" would eventually be ok.

We bought a snowflake this weekend, at a craft fair. A craft fair he WANTED to go to with me. It hangs by a little suction cup on my dresser mirror. It signifies our knew beginning, and it is to remind us that love is fragile, and beautiful and unique.

Happy Tuesday

Monday, November 29, 2004


Warning: If swear words, especially the word FUCK, psychosis, feeling sorry for ones self or just plain patheticness offends you, please do not read the following post. The following thoughts were experienced when I was EXTREMELY angry, and do not necessarily reflect my every day feelings or thoughts. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

My life is full of shit. Nothing but fucking shit. Everywhere I turn. Every single aspect of my life is full of grief and aggravation. Never joy. Never any fuckin joy. I can not take it anymore, this has got to end. The never ending shit. The money, the kids, the stress it's driving me crazy. Shit River flowing gracefully down from Shit mountain, at the bottom of which lays Shit Lake located in Shitsville, U-S fucking A.

Oh, how I long for a normal life. A good life. A Life lived shit free. To come and go and do what ever you want with out worrying about money. I mean not rich. NOOOO- I am not greedy. I don't need servants or five hundred dollar sunglasses. Just enough to live well. Enough to be able to pay the bills, buy a few things, maybe be able to take a vacation every couple of years. Ya know? What The Fuck?!

And a family? Oh a family that gives a shit would be nice. Maybe a mother that treats you equally to your brother? And a father that would actually CALL you to let you know your grandfather was in the hospital? A brother who doesn't talk down to your kids, like his are fucking angels? (I think not) Didn't we have the same parents? Didn't we grow up in the same fucking house? Where the hell did he get that fucking high horse?

What the fuck did I ever do? I am a nice person. I try to be open minded and not judge others. Fate hates me. Is it fate? Is it god? Is it the devil? Who is it that hates me so much that I must be tortured every fucking day, every fucking hour, every minute of my life?

Oh I have some joy in my life. I am convinced that it is dangled in front of me like bait, when I am pushed beyond my limits. When my soul is ready to give up and say fuck it. Fuck it all, I am outta here. When I feel this way, *boom*, something good will happen. I will think well ALRIGHT, finally things are turning around. Woo hoo happiness here I come. Then a hideous laugh and I watch as the happy, bright landscape fades into a slimey, brown sludge. It develops and unfolds over and over again. Until I get to that last, lonely thread that keeps me hanging on. When I am at the edge again and every thought is I don't care, fuck it, here comes the dangling of the fucking joy again. Then hope begins to creep into my thoughts. Stoopid fucking hope. Hope you are naive and you suck! You fucking SUCK. You useless waste of thought Hope? Pfft. What's the sense.

I want to know who's idea of a sick fucking joke this life is anyway? Jesus H. Christ how much can one fucking person take? Constantly pelted and pummelled by shit? Beating, bruising, emotionally draining, shit. Maybe it's me. I blame everyone else but maybe it's me. Maybe I am the bad seed, the black sheep. I have joked about being the black sheep for years, but am I really the bad luck black sheep?

Maybe I need spirituality. Maybe I am being punished for not being spiritual? I wish I knew. I wish I could be at peace, instead of constant conflict. Razor sharp, metal teeth nashing conflict. I feel like Gulliver when he was tied down by the little people. (the Lily-p-u-tions) Unable to move or breath, helpless, hopeless.

I am always one step behind happiness, never actually catching up with it. Always thinking, if I can just get thru this crisis everything will be ok. But it never is. It's like that stoopid joke you play on your friend, you know the one where they are about to grab the car door and you hit the gas and move forward to leave them standing there like a dork?

That's me grabbing the door handle, and happiness is driving the car.

Maybe I need a medication adjustment.

(Spell check kept trying to get to me to replace the word FUCK with the word FUJI....every single time, for some reason I find this hilarious, I know I am Fuji'd)

Wednesday, November 24, 2004

Mars and Venus

This is an old situation I found myself in that we (Mr. Mars and Miss Venus) could not seem to agree upon. I would like opinions from men and women, if there are actually any men that read this. If not ask your husbands and tell me what they say.

Mr. Mars works part time at a physically demanding outside job. It's summer, it's hot. Mr. Mars has a female co-worker, who does the same job. One day Mr. Mars invites Miss Venus to go to work with him and enjoy the scenery and sunshine, while he works. Miss Venus says what the hell and goes. Female co-worker is working in shorts and a bikini top. When she sees that Miss Venus is with Mr. Mars today she scurries away and puts on a shirt, over her bikini top.

Miss Venus thinks this is sneaky, underhanded. Why would female co-worker go put on a shirt because Miss Venus is there? Miss Venus thinks female co-worker, had on previous occasions been trying to catch Mr. Mars' attention with her bikini top.

Mr. Mars think she is being respectful, not to be walking around in front of Miss Venus half nekked. (coughbullshitcough)

What do YOU think?

Snagged form Sheli, who snagged it from Smoochdog, who snagged it from...........

Happy Turkey day ya'all! Let's all be thankful for the things we have and not upset about the things we do not. And lets also pray (pray I don't freakin pray) that things get better in this country. How very adult of me. (blah)

Anyway, this is a game that seems to be spreading like the plague. Answer these questions,(in the comments section) then ask 3 of your own questions and answer those also.

Have fun, hope it makes you laugh.

1. What's your most embarrassing moment?
Having to be carried out of the bull pen drunk by my uncle, who by the way was STILL buying me shots. (bad uncle) And then falling up the stairs drunk, and having to go to work every day with a black and blue nose.

2. Name one thing you are really scared by/of.
MUCK, that dead rotting stuff, leaves, whatever on the bottom of a pond or lake. It just freakin grosses me out.

3. If you could be any animal, what would it be?
A Cat, independant...yet loving and cuddly. Oh and my cat she can be a bitch, so yea, we have that in common.

Monday, November 22, 2004

Fecal Fast Food

On Thursday, I had food poisoning for lunch….

I started feeling nauseous at about 3:00 on Thursday. Dizzy...hot then cold. When I left work I had severe pain in the right front abdomen area. It continued to get worse, I could not even drive home from daycare...good thing I brought hubby with me. All I could do was lay curled in a ball, moaning in my front seat. I made myself barf, (when I got home) I know its gross, but it had to be done, and looking back it was the best idea because if the rest of my lunch had gone thru my system I probably would have been sick longer and worse. I lay down with the heating pad on my stomach and tried to decide if I needed to go to the hospital. I was tossing and turning and cringing aloud every time a wave of pain hit me. It felt like someone had reached into my body and was squeezing whatever it is that is located in that area of your body. Over and over again, while simultaneously sticking a knife in my back at the exact spot of the pain in the front.

I called my mother and asked her if she new the symptoms of an appendix attack, which gave her an anxiety attack. She had to drive over and see me for herself. She brought her ancient medical book, which gives symptoms of every ailment known to man, well every medical condition that was around prior to 1967 that is.
Do you have pain running down you’re your left arm?…..No
Ok good you are not having a heart attack.

Is the pain constant? No, its sporadic, it lets me take a breath every few seconds
Ok good I don’t think its appendicitis.

I think we may have gone thru most of the book.

Somehow while trying to figure out why I was dying a slow horrible death, and if I would rather die at home or at the hospital, the big guy pardoned me. I fell asleep. When I woke up, I felt a bit better. I remember mumbling to my husband where is mum? He said she had gone home, covered me up and kissed my forehead, I fell back to sleep. I kept sleeping and waking feeling better each time. When I woke up in the AM I WAS ABSOLUTELY FINE!! Incredible!

I have decided (without medical opinion) that it was food poisoning. When I got to work this morning I told my boss about my suffereing. He said “Jimmy, (his brother-in-law) would say, that’s what you get for eating at Burger King” You see Jimmy owns a McDonalds franchise in another part of the country.

I think I am done with fecal fast food for a good long time. Every time I saw a BK sign or commercial over the weekend I got nauseous! And there are a lot of Bk’s along the highway from Massachusetts to Maine!

Wednesday, November 17, 2004

Living on Hope

The struggle continues. I miss the man I fell in love with 10 years ago. I get fleeting glances of him sometimes, but then he is gone.

He has started methodone maintenance treatment. I guess this is good. But I am sad. He goes to the clinic everyday to get his dose. He said that the methodone will help repair the damage done to pain receptors in his brain, while taking care of cravings to use.

He can not remember anything. I tell him something and the next day he can't remember the conversation. I keep track of his appointments and remind him every day, where to go and what time to be there. He is easily overwhelmed. It's very frustrating for me. I feel as if I have gained another child.

I reassure him that everything will be ok. We will work everything out. One day at a time. And I feel like lier, because I don't know if this is true. I don't know if evrything will work out. I don't know if our family will ever be "OK" after this.

He is so thin and pale. At night when he is tired, he practically falls asleep standing up. One night he was out of bed for a while, so I went to check on him. He was asleep, on the kitchen counter. Well his torso was on the counter, his legs were still vertical. I worry about him. I wonder if one day he will be gone. Leaving me to deal with everything alone.

I am short on patients and trying very hard not to take my worries and frustrations out on him. But lets face it, he has caused 90% of these worries. It makes me mad. Mad at him. Mad at the world. Mad at life. Mad at myself.

Recovery will be long. He will deal with this addiction everyday probably for the rest of his life. Much like a reformed smoker he will still get a craving now and again. I don't know if I have the strength in me. I have always been the "grin and bare it, get done what has to be done" kind of person. But lately, I am slipping into a depression. I just want to curl up under a warm blanket and sleep. In my dreams I am happy. I dream of when we first met. I dream of the smile on his face when our son and daughter were born. I dream of the day we were married. And then I wake up. And I am sad.

Sometimes I feel him twitch in his sleep from withdrawals. Sometimes I wake up because he is soaked from night sweats. He has aches and pains in his joints. Sometimes I have to help him get out of bed in the morning. Sometimes I feel so selfish because I just want to run away.

But then he will smile, what I call "my smile". Big and bright encompassing his whole face. AT that moment I see the man he was, and I have hope.

Tuesday, November 16, 2004

You know the United States is in trouble when the top 3 leaders are named Bush, Dick and Colon!

Friday, November 12, 2004

Old School Ain't Bad School

Can I just say that I love John Mayer? OK thanks. I LOVE JOHN MAYER. With songs like "Your Body is a Wonderland" and "Daughters" who could help loving him. And that voice of his, it provokes my clothes to melt off my body.

I would be SO all over him if I wasn't married. I know, I know. He is younger than me, so what? I could teach him a few old school things. I mean I am not THAT much older than him.

Along came a spider and sat down beside her

Call me little miss muffet. I sat on the throne yesterday morning and a spider appeared right in front of my eyes suspended on a slender thread from the ceiling. I was so amazed and amused that I could not kill it. So there we sat for a minute until it began its ascent back up.

All I could think of in my sleepy haze was the nursery rhyme.

Little Miss Muffet (Muffet? What kind of surname is that?, Sounds sexual if you ask me)
Sat on a Tuffet (what the hell is a tuffet anyhow?)
Eating her curds (blak) and whey (wtf?)

Along came a spider
And sat down besider
And frightened Miss Muffet away

I just now realized that it could also, easily be turned into a cheap porn movie.

I know, I am warped.

Bitch and Proud

I listen to the same radio show every weekday morning on my way to work. The DJ's make me laugh. It's a good way to start the day. Some days they have an e-mail to share and they usually ask for listeners to call and comment.

Today's problem: A wife emails for advise. Her brother-in-law has been living with she and her husband for a year and a half. (he was supposed to stay for a couple of months to get back on his feet) He does not contribute very much financially. He is 39 years old divorced with 2 children. The children lived there over the summer and the asshat gave his brother/sis-in-law a hundred bucks. Obviously this did not cover the extra food for the kids for a whole summer let alone anything else. The wife is fed up, she says its time for him to get-ta-steppin.

A male caller gave his opinion: The wife should mind her business, and stay out of it. It is between the brothers, blood is thicker than water and blah blah blah.

I thought "OH HELL NO" I called, I commented.

Sissychong says: I think they have been more than patient trying to help him get back on his feet (this is me being nice) Also if my husband ever told me to mind my business and stay out of it in a situation like this, they would both be living in an apartment in the south end of the city. (this is me being a bitch)

The female DJ laughed, the male DJ said alright, thanks for calling.

The best part of this whole thing? I can not wait to get home and tell my husband I was a bitch on the radio. I know what he will say. I know his tone of voice. I know the smirk he will have.

He will say, "Maaaaan, what a bitch", then he will slightly shake his head, then he will laugh.
And I will say, "You say bitch like it's a bad thing, oh and it's queen bitch to you baby"

Happy Friday!

Thursday, November 04, 2004

Is This It, Is This My Lightening Bolt?

Yesterday while sitting in my car and fumbling around in my purse my tweezers went flying. They landed wedged between my passenger seat and my console. I squeezed two fingers into that spot and as I slid them down to grasp the tweezers, the crevice open more due to my fingers and the tweezers slid down into the abyss. A look of horror shown on my face and panic crept into my being.

I carry my tweezers EVERywhere. You never know when the condition of the light illuminating ones brows will cause the need for spontaneous tweezing.

My irrational side thought, ok get the tools from hubby's tool box. There must be something in there that I can crawl under my car with and unhinge, unscrew or unlock whatever is holding my seat in my car. This will allow me to liberate the tweezers, thereby saving my emotional life. I can picture myself doing this. I can picture the smile on my face and feel the relief in my mind when I see the sparkle of my oh so shiny tweezers against my dark car rug.

I admit I am slightly (slightly?) obsessive/compulsive about the tweezing. Is any one else this crazed or is it me?

Is this my lightning bolt? It HAS been a pain in the ass not being able to excersize one of my civil rights. You know the one, yeah, freedom of tweezing. If this IS my lightening bolt, then God I commend your leniency and applaud your compassion. You have made your point and it has been well taken. I'll never yell at you again, lest I suffer the wrath of the unruly unibrow.

Happy Thursday

PS. In related news, on the way back from the store, I saw a 3 1/2 legged fox hobbling down the sidewalk. First off a fox, on the sidewalk? Secondly a fox with 3 1/2 legs, on the sidewalk? Maybe that was my bolt. Things could be worse, I'll quit my whining now.

Wednesday, November 03, 2004

Waiting for a Lightening Bolt

I yelled at God this morning. Yup, I lost my temper 'wit da man" (woman?) I am not a deeply religious person. I have not been to church since I was a child. But some time in the very near future I will see the clouds part and a very angry lightening bolt will shoot from the sky directly at my ass. All because I couldn't keep my big mouth shut.

Apparently, I am so out of shape that I can not bend at the waist to spray gel the underside of my hair. I did this Tuesday morning and pulled a muscle in my lower back. I am walking like I have a load in my draws. The action of sitting forces grunts and groans from my lips. This morning while trying to get to my feet from a horizontal position, I groaned so loud that my 15 year old daughter came running from the second floor of our house to check on my well being.

Of course because of my limited movement the little ones and I were running behind schedule this morning. My 6 year old, with her coat half on, was struggling to put on my socks for me, when the school bus came. She kissed me, said sorry I can't finish, and went out the door. So there I was, half laying half sitting on the couch, with one sock on and the other dangling from my toes. I tried to sit up and the pain ripped thru my back. I flopped back down on the couch and staring at the ceiling I screamed "Why are you doing this to me, don't I have enough misery in my life right now?"

When the muscle spasm stopped I eventually got to my feet. I slid my sock the rest of the way onto my foot by pushing my foot on the rug. I was able to put my shoes on, thank goodness they are the "no-tie-slip-on type" and I left for work.

So now I am feel like I am one step away from total catastrophe. There is only one thing I can do. Apologize to the big guy.

Tuesday, November 02, 2004

Nothing is Fixed

Some how I thought when he came home, everything would be wonderful. He would be fixed. I would be fixed. WE would be fixed.

I thought when he left the facility, it would be over. However, the facility was just one small step on the road to recovery. I know now that the struggle is just beginning. For him and for me.

In my opinion he came home too soon. He surprised us Friday night when he walked in the door. Of course the kids were VERY happy to see him. They showered him with hugs and kisses, asking how his trip to visit Uncle Charlie was. I was happy to see him BUT this was overshadowed by my doubt that he was ready to be here. And the fact that he made this decision with out my knowledge or input did nothing to quell my fears. Nothing had been set up for his out patient recovery.

Working thru the maze of phone calls to be made, has proven frustrating for him. We make appointments for a week down the road, when he really needs to see doctors NOW. Just 2 minutes ago, I got a phone call canceling an appointment that is supposed to begin in 20 minutes. It is an important appointment. Someone is out sick and they can not take him. Simple as that. Someone is out sick? Do they know that this disappointment could send him back into the arms of the devil? Don't they understand that he is at a critical stage in his recovery?

He has been out of the facility and with out the dose of methodone for 4 days now. The withdrawal symptoms have started. He did do something last night that gave me hope for the future. He was irritable last night due to the withdrawal. He was craving. He dug out his weights and began lifting. He said this will be his focus shifter. When he craves, he will lift. It will distract his mind and tire his body. I think this is a good plan. He used to lift 4 or 5 times a week before the addiction. It was inspiring to see him do something that he used to love.

I am having a hard time trusting him. I keep wondering what's around the next corner. Will he use? Will he lie about it? I wish I could surround him with a force field to protect him. How can I protect him from himself? I have to have faith, in him and it is hard.

I told him I was thinking of going to a support group for loved ones of addicts. (al-anon?) He didn't understand why I needed that. He said I was not that bad. I did not steal from my family or anyone else to feed my addiction. I did not hurt you or the kids physically. I never took away from you for it. On one hand he didn't. On the other hand he did. I explained my feelings to him.

I have watched you hurt yourself for 2 years. At first I thought, and you reassured me that the pill taking was just a social thing. And it probably was. But at some point it changed from a want to a need. At that point I still didn't believe it. And you told me not to worry. You said things like "I am not a drug addict", "stop worrying, I can handle this", "I am in control, I can stop anytime I want to", and I believed you, heck you believed yourself. But the addiction continued to grow. And so did the aches and pains. You began to not feel well. The tooth aches and the back pain you complained about. I watched you suffer through pain and I was torn. Watch you struggle with pain or watch you take pills to feel better, which was worse? I still do not know. The only thing that could make you feel better was the pills. I was scared. I didn't know what to do. So many times I voiced my concerns and at times you made me feel like I was insane. I started to not trust my own judgment. Was I right?, Was I wrong? Oh and the number of times I heard, "I just need a couple of pills to wean myself off of them" was unbelievable. At first when you said that I was relieved, FINALLY I thought. But time and time again it did not stop with the couple of pills. Everytime I heard that phrase I became less and less relieved until your words meant nothing. I remember asking you if you knew how many times I had heard that before. It was like a slap in the face to you, I could see it in your eyes. I told you never to tell me that again. I was torn, I wanted to help you and at the same time I wanted to run from you. I cried and begged you to stop, for you, for me, for the kids. By this time you were no longer in control. The addiction had taken over. I don't remember exactly what made you go into detox. I had not threatened to leave you, even though I had thought it a millions times. Something clicked for you, and you cried. You told me you were scared, and in a tiny little voice on the phone you said, "I need help". Those three words were the best words I had heard in so long.

Now I need to heal as much as he does. I need people to talk to, that have been thru it with someone they love. I need to know I am not alone and that it is possible to put this behind us.

He never knew that his addiction affected me like this, he was sad and apologetic. I told him not to dwell on it. It's a waste of energy at this point. Focus on where you want to be in the future and lets get there together.

Happy Tuesday!

Monday, November 01, 2004

Forever Changed

The highway was the same,
I was forever changed,

The parking lot was the same,
I was forever changed,

The lobby was the same,
I was forever changed,

He was different,
I was forever greatful.