Distraction.

I've been struggling so hard the past month and a half. Trying to distract myself with every little thing. Working out, reading, putting on my happy face online and with everyone I speak to. As the weeks have passed, it's becoming harder and harder to distract myself. Just sitting and watching television isn't enough if I have to sit through commercials. Sitting online isn't enough when I take a moment here or there to think. Reading and working out, provides a steady stream of distraction. But I'm flying through books too fast to keep it up. With this depression I have no desire, whatsoever, to leave the house, so exercise isn't quite doing it's job. And the pure laziness I feel when I get like this is keeping me from doing anything much at home.

I have no desire whatsoever to do anything besides the bare minimum. I don't want to leave my bed at all. Yet staying in it is even worse. So I make myself get up before the hubs and go sleep on the couch. It's the only way I've been able to get up and take care of the kids in the morning. The mornings, I stay in bed until they wake I fight the most intense battle. My mind tells me to stay there. Don't worry about anything, just grieve and cry and sleep. My heart reminds me I have three precious children I need to take care of. My heart tells me she wouldn't want me wasting time reliving the past, feeling guilty, feeling angry, feeling that low.

I know things would be easier if I just made myself do things. If I just made myself do the mundane household tasks, play with the children, work with the children, leave the house, things would be easier..

Lovely. Just lovely. As I sit here typing what is so hard for me to get out, so hard to explain, while I fight to get the words out, the song comes on. Her song. Stopped my trying, dead in it's track, mid-word. "Every little thing's gonna be alright."

You see, New Years Eve 2007, just 3 hours before 2008 would begin, I got a call. Nana had a heart attack. We were having a party at our apartment. Since I was just 18 days away from my due date with Collin, I had the only other sober person there come with me to the hospital. On the way there Bob Marley's Three Little Birds came on the radio. I thought nothing of it at the time. Nothing at all. Just a couple days later she had another heart attack. Again, the song came on. Again, it didn't phase me. I hadn't even noticed that I heard it the night of her first one. On January 19th, two days after my sweet Collin was born, I got a call while I was still in the hospital, "Nana's in surgery, her entire colon is being removed, C-dif, not sure if she can pull through with her heart still healing from the bypass." Just a few pieces I remember from the conversation... I called my doctor to rush the   discharge. I needed to get to the other hospital. When I climbed into the car, with my brand new baby boy and my husband, he was turning the radio dial and stopped on the same song. "This is my message to you-ou-ou, saying, don't worry, 'bout a thing"

I was too worried to think much about it still, but it did calm me down enough to stop crying. I never made it to the hospital that day. The song came on a couple more times during my visits to her. On her birthday, February 9th, we left our 3 week old son with a sitter, for the first time. With the c-dif and being in ICU, my boys weren't able to come. Tom and I parked pretty far from the hospital. Just as we were about to get out of the car, it came on. I immediately cried. We were being tossed around with the doctors words. Every other day it seemed we were being told she was strong. Was going to pull through. Every other opposite day we were told she was weaker, and wouldn't. After listening to the song, and crying my eyes out I had the most intense sense of calm. We walked the 8 blocks to the  hospital in silence. That night we were told she would be in the ICU for a couple weeks at most, then moved to a different floor, then moved to a rehabilitation facility, then could come home if she had help. Two days later my entire family made the decision to pull the plug. She was bleeding internally, the pneumonia caused her lungs to be 80% filled with fluid. Her kidneys were failing. All of the machines were living for her. She was in and out of it. While she was "there" she would shake her head no to every question, never opening her eyes. The 11th was such a long day. We had all, except my husband who stayed with my boys, been there with her. The hospital staff didn't dare speak against us for breaking the two visitors at a time rule. Finally a little after two pm it was time. The plug was pulled. We all crowded around her bed. Crying and watching. Struggling to catch her breath.. Finally a very, very close family friend, scratch that, a member of our family, went to her. "It's okay Betty-Girl. Go see Frenchie." She said a few more words, and we all cried more intensely. She looked around the room. Into the eyes of most, if not all of us. And that was it. None of us wanted to leave. I tried so hard that day to remain strong. So strong for my mother. I couldn't, absolutely could not let her see me upset. Finally, after hours I left. As soon as I started my car, it came on again. I laughed. What kind of cruel joke is this? Every thing is not going to be okay. It will never be okay.

The day of her funeral, I was in a daze. I couldn't cry. Nana wouldn't want us to cry over her. She'd much rather us gossip, and be nosy. To laugh at our memories of her. And I did. Well, when we weren't in the car anyway. When leaving the funeral home to head to the church, Bob Marley played on one of the radio stations. When leaving the church for the cemetery, again. When leaving the cemetery, again.

She was never told she had her own special song.

It's been almost three years since her death, and this year has been the worst since it actually happened. Maybe it's because my mind is clearer now than it was the last two years. I don't know. I just know I'm really struggling. This battle is continuing deep in my soul. Half wanting me to give up. To do anything to soothe the pain, even if it causes more in the long run. The other side keeping me from diving into the deep end again. Fighting to keep me strong. Fighting to keep me here for my family. For myself. Fighting to keep me safe from myself. Fortunately, I know that side will win. It's only lost one battle and has gotten strong over the past couple of years. But it doesn't make it any easier to know that I will get through this. It doesn't make it any easier to know things will get better once I start doing things again. Once I start seeing some sun.

All I have to do is remind myself one small thing: "Every little thing, is gonna be alright."

I guess this post turned into a completely different one from what I intended, 

all because this one little song started on the television behind me.

I saw this video for the very first time after arriving home from the funeral. 

This take on the song perfectly shows my view on the song. 

Another failed Birthday Party.

Collin's birthday party is fast approaching. It is this Sunday. We are still struggling with after-Christmas catch up, and Tom is laid off again. Unfortunately, between having to pay the rent this week and taking Collin out to celebrate yesterday, and grocery shopping, we are pretty much tapped out. This will be yet, another party I cannot provide for my children. Another party I have to count on my father to play the parental role.

I am so angry, bitter, and depressed right now. I am these kids mom. I am the one who is supposed to give them nothing short of the best. I am the one who is supposed to give them that fun-and-friend-filled day filled with games, activities, and cake. And as par with the tradition we formed, Collin will be getting the short end of the birthday party stick.

Thomas each year, has an amazing party with an excellent turn out. Almost everyone I know with kids shows up. We have a great time, the kids play as it's still summer, we have great food, great cake or cupcakes, and the kids walk away with stuffed goodie bags. Everyone always enjoys Thomas' parties.

Bailey has only had one so far, and it was not at bad as Collin's but not that fantastic either. I didn't spend any time at all with my children, or my husband. I was too busy rushing along everything in fear of everyone leaving before we got to the cake that took almost 8 hours to make. Everyone was cold, but we had no where indoors,  large enough for the amount of people we had invited. And just like Collin, other than Tom and my immediate family and my best friend, no one with kids came. I had 16 goodie bags, and so many kids cupcakes that I had to bring back home.

Both of Collin's parties while stress free have been awful. The first year, with a winter birthday we had to give him a two day party, one day for the kids we invited, and one for just the adults. Only half of the people we invited, came. I had counted on most, as that's what happened with Thomas' first two. Last year for his 2nd, only our immediate families came. No one else.

This year, again as it has been since the year he was born, money is practically non-existent. So many people knew my fear of no one showing and had promised they would make it. The party is Sunday, and only two of those people have RSVPed. We have yet to put the money down on the hall, and do not have it. My father, as usual will be taking care of that. Then, because it is in a hall, we need to provide activities and games for the kids, to keep them occupied. I had so many plans and ideas for a perfect Winter party and have no money to make any of them come true, even with how cheap they were. We have no money for goodie bags. No money for cake, of course my father will take care of that as well. And no money for the coffee and appetizers. We only want to do chips, and a few tray of veggies, fruits, meats and cheeses. Simply and not to expensive like Baileys, but again, have no cash.

My father has offered to put off paying his electric bill for another week to use his unemployment check on Collin's party. And I am very grateful for having parents who do care so much about providing for my children. While they won't get down and play with them, they will make sure they have everything the need.
Yet, as grateful as I am, I am angry and depressed, and just plain miserable about the whole thing. I am so beyond sick of having to rely on dear ol' daddy to take care of me and my children. I am sick of still needing him. I am so tired of not being able to provide 100% for my children.

I should just count my blessings and get over it. I mean, at least my children do get birthday parties. My niece and nephew (3 and 8 years old) have never once had a birthday party. At least until this year, when I celebrated them at Thomas and Bailey's parties.

And now I feel guilty. Guilty for not providing the best for my children. Guilty for not just being thankful for what help I do have.

The Hurt Is Still There

Guilt

With my daughter's birthday soon approaching, guilt has begun to overcome me. October 3th, 2006 is not a day I will soon forget. It still haunts me. I still miss my baby I never got to hold.

When struggling with figuring out my due date early on in my last pregnancy, I only had one thought: Do not let it be on CBM's day. Do not let it be October 3rd. Of course it did end up being October 3rd; because, well that's my luck.

Being on Methadone, I let the date slip my mind. I would still be a day to remember CBM because Bailey was going to come before her due date. Most methadone babies come early. Then September 30th came. And I knew, Bailey's soon to be birthday would forever be bitter sweet. Mourning one child while celebrating another.

Bailey came just 3 hours and 9 minutes before her due date. I was convinced that night I was not going to remember my angel the next day.

Yet, I did remember. And I cherished my newborn baby girl so much more. I held her tight and cried. For my child who I never got to hold, and for her. I was so grateful just to have her with me.

It has been not quite 4 years since that dreadful day and it still saddens me just as much as it did then. Yet, it does so much more now. I no longer just weep and mourn for my child, as I had done the first two years. I now take my thoughts of my precious Angel, and focus my attention on the children who are here with me. I will do right by them, in honor of CBM. I will cherish my three Angel's who are here with me day by day. I will remember to not take them for granted. I will do my best to provide them with as much love as I can muster. And when there is a difficult day, I will try to remember my short time carrying CBM and focus my energies on Thomas, Collin, and Bailey. I owe it to CBM.

I may not have known your gender,

I may not have felt your touch.

But I will always remember. 

I will always love you, so very much.

Begins Again

I slowly see it returning, like a fog blanketing the city. Only instead, its a fog blanketing me. Just a few weeks ago things were really good. Simple things, like actually getting out of bed with a smile on my face or actually not minding picking up around the house. Spending most of the actually playing with my children and teaching them new things. I had no problem keeping my eyes open all day, something I had not been able to do for so long. Play dates 1-3 times a week. Visits to my moms just because and actually enjoying her company. My body wasn't sore. I felt good. I felt content with life. I felt content with myself for the most part. Were things 100% perfect? Of course not. Were there things needing improvement? Of course.

Now, this fog that once reduced my visibility to nothingness is returning again. Since the layoff I have been struggling to get up each morning. I have been nodding like a junkie every time I sit on the couch. Other than leaving the house with my husband for two hours on Tuesday, I have no left the house all week except for the few times I had no choice. Other than homework time after Thomas gets home, I have not really spent any time with the kids. Regarding household cleaning, I am only doing the bare minimum so the anxiety with the mess stays at bay. Through out the day I just want to sit on my ass. Even moving to change a diaper or make breakfast or lunch takes maximum effort. I'm avoiding phone calls again, instant messages, and emails.

I hate this. I hate feeling this way. I hate not having any control whatsoever over anything. Part of me feels like if I can't make anything work to help the family, outside the house, why do anything inside? I feel like I need to be doing more. The one thing I can do, my husband is fighting tooth and nail against it. Yes, he is right, I do not have a sitter to care for my kids if I work and he has side work. Yes we will argue like lunatics if I come home and everything isn't up to my standards. I know he means well and all, but this is my children's life. They can't live with out lights. They can't live with out food in the house. And what if there is an emergency at Thomas' school? We need a working phone. And with out the internet, which yes it is a luxury we all take for granted, with out the internet Mommy is not someone they want to be around. The internet is my only way to rid myself of stress. Without the phone and internet, I'd have no connection to the outside world from home.

Right now, I just want to be left alone. At the same time, I just want to do the best I can for my children.

Source

Long Lasting Impact

Who knew the death of my grandmother, Nana, would have such a long lasting ill effect on me?

Things had already had been spiraling down hill when she had past. When the family "pulled the plug" it was for the better, for her, but it still was upsetting. I was angry, bitter, and hurt. How can she die without meeting her newest great-grandchild? Her death was icing on the cake of shit that was already getting worse with each passing day. Troubled marriage, a lay-off and lack of incoming money, postpartum depression, individuals in my life I couldn't quite trust but my husband refusing to understand why, things sucked royally when she passed. All of this was just the right combination to help me lose my mind, sending me into a psychotic break. Leading to suicide attempts and a heroin addiction.

Growing up, she was always the one that was there. Parents fighting all the time when I was three? Head on downstairs and there she'd be. Need to get away from my parents alcoholic and drug using tendencies? And she'd always let me come stay with her. She was always the one to make everything better. Always. Then she left me. She left me at the lowest point of my life.

Maybe if her passing was expected? Maybe if she didn't go from being perfectly fine to death in a matter of weeks? Maybe things would be different.

Since her passing, I have changed. I am no longer the happy, always smiling, always laughing person I once was.  Since her passing depression has taken over my life. I finally thought I was moving on, finally returning to the "old me." Then one little thing goes wrong and I am back to that dark place almost instantly, filled with thoughts of hurting myself or others. Filled with thoughts of finding the easiest way out. Filled with such darkness, it's almost impossible to see the light.

I was never this person before her passing.

Since her passing I have learned to appear to be the same person on the outside. I have learned how to act and behave so friends and family believe everything is happiness and roses. On the inside? It's complete turmoil. I no longer can handle the little things life throws at me and my family. Before her passing, my husband getting laid-off didn't really phase me. Yes I'd stress, but it didn't control my every thought.

Currently things are pretty rough around here. Worse than they were back then, financially. In fact, next week our cable, internet, and phone, followed by electricity will be getting shut off unless there is a miracle. My husband will only say, "Don't worry" to me. He flat out refuses to look for a non-drywall job. His reasoning is, he will just have to quit when better work comes up. And that, if he comes across a side-job, he'd make more than working somewhere for minimum wage. Why don't I go get a job, you ask? His same reasonings. "I make more in one day than you would in a week." Um dude, how is that possible when you aren't even working? His other reason is that if I work days, I'd have to quit the minute he is called back to work and if I work nights it would not be good for our marriage. And this last part is true. I can't even leave for an hour without things being turned into absolute chaos around here. My husband is not very good at multitasking when it comes to caring for the children, cooking dinner, running baths, bedtimes, and cleaning up the evening messes. In fact, he can't do it.

When I was working nights, I'd come home to a complete disaster to find the children didn't get a bath, dinner wasn't until 8-9 pm, and they fell asleep whenever. All three still in the clothes I had them in when I left. Which used to lead to me coming in screaming, throwing things, and slamming fists and a face into the walls. So, is me working worth the stress it would lead to?

I often wonder, had my grandmother not passed away, would I handle life stresses differently?
I am so sick of thinking about her death and all else that happened in 2008, ruined me.
I need to realize it's not her fault. I mean how could it be? It's not like she died to ruin my being and take away the light?

Who knew the death of my Nana, would have such a long lasting ill effect on me?

This post is written based on the writing prompt, "Describe a tragedy you didn’t expect to be as deeply affect by as you are." over at Mama Kat's.

The Struggle

Worse than ever, barely afloat.

It lasted much too long.

Now thoughts are creeping back again.

It's the same old song.

Thoughts are closing in again.

Sanity is slowly losing the race.

"Money can't by happiness"

Yet, we're stuck in last place.

Trying to provide,

And act if nothings wrong.

Eyes are watching closely.

How can one stay strong?

Ramblings

I have been getting so much more traffic lately and of course have nothing I want to blog about. So, I thought I'd just update on all of us

Collin has amazed me today. For a boy who does not/can not say much at all, he really shocked me. I got what, wait, juice, thank you, cheeze its (LOL), kiss, and stop. ("wha" "way" "deuce" "dank yo'" "dees itch" "dist" and "top") He is making me oh so proud. Another Collin brag: For a few days now Collin has been asking to go potty. He pee's each time. I love that he is doing this all on his own. Makes a mama proud.

Bailey was so silly today. Everytime one of her brother talked to her or smiled at her, she'd clap. Big, big, wide-eyed smiles, with tons of clapping. It was adorable. She also discovered two cabinets tonight. The pots and pans in one and tupperware in the other. She is at that age where she is doing something new and exciting everyday. She has been randomly pulling up to standing for a week or two, but now she is doing it all.the.time! The best is when she pulls up onto my leg and I start to slowly walk, she walks along with me. I love it!

Thomas is such a good helper with Bailey. I cooked dinner tonight so hubby could fix the toilet and  as always when I step foot into the kitchen, Bailey started screaming. Thomas sat with her, in the kitchen, kept her away from Vader's dish and my feet since I was cooking with hot oil. He gave her some puffs, and he is the one who showed her the cabinets. Thomas wrote all 26 letters of the alphabet the other day. Made Mama so proud!

On to the hubby. We have been arguing a lot lately, but it's normal for this time of year. Just waiting for it to pass! He was sweet tonight though, he went and got me an iced mocha, without me even mentioning I wanted one. Then he got all three kids ready for bed, "just because."

Me...I have been really depressed and angry lately. I hate it. Yet, I am used to it. I am so glad I am still breastfeeding Bailey and it means so much to me. I have been having intense thoughts lately of using and hurting myself. It kills me to feel this way and think this way. I keep having to make myself think of other things. Like the fact that if I follow through on any of my thoughts I cannot nurse her.

I have a new counselor at the program, again, so I need to build a rapport with her before I can feel comfortable confiding in her. I know I will get through this. I always do.


OH! The biggest update! I got an email last week from a publicist at Discovery Health. She said she came across my blog and after seeing Bailey in a Snapshot Saturday post, she thought she'd be perfect for the contest they are running, now until July 1st. Winner gets their photo shown on a commercial on the DK channel, and runner-ups will get featured as baby of the day on the website! There will be 16 finalists.
I know it's not like a grand prize or anything, but it is still an amazing feeling to know someone else honestly thinks your child is beautiful.


Now, I think that is all that is going on worth mentioning. Hope everyone else is doing well!

Desperately seeking help and guidance

I thought these feelings were behind me. I thought I had everything under control. Not anymore.
The suicidal thoughts are back with a vengeance. The depression and psychotic breaks are tearing me to shreds. I need a helping hand. A miracle worker. Help.

At this exact moment I am struggling, with every part of my being, not to slam my face into the drywall. Struggling to stay away from the pills bottles and knives. Struggling to stay calm. I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, if it weren't for this life inside of me at this moment, I would be back where I was a year ago, trying to end my life.

I sit here typing this as it is my only way to get these ramped thoughts out of my mind. Tears streaming down my face, fingers barely able to find the right keys as my hands shake so tremendously.

The only person I am willing to call and speak to about these thoughts will admit me immediately. I cannot, though I desperately need to, go back into the nut house. I have to work. I have to make it to my appointments. My children need me here, home. Yet, I need me sane.

Doctors, medication, and counseling cannot help me right now. Only the state of Connecticut can, yet they won't, not until things get worse. I cannot, as a mother, as a human being, let things get worse.

I learned today, after doing some math and speaking to a few social workers, there is no way I can come up with my rent this month. My utilities are officially way past due. I should shut off my internet, cable, and phone; but am petrified of what I would do without any connection to the outside world. I have no idea where my children and I will be going in a few weeks. I cannot even throw my son a 4th birthday party, as I don't even know where I will be living. I had one thing I have been looking forward to, which will only cost $25 tops, and I cannot go. I can't even afford clothing that fits me. If it weren't for the baby shower my wonderful aunt is throwing for me and a few dear friends, my soon to be daughter would have nothing.

No one knows this but I am seriously considering putting her up for adoption. It breaks my heart to even type this as I cannot even say it out loud. I have wanted a daughter so desperately for years. Yet, right now, how dare I even contemplate bringing another child into my life? How dare I bring her into my household when I can't even support myself or my two boys. There are millions upon millions of women out there so desperate to have a child of their own. Those women would give everything to make sure she was well taken care of. I can't even take care of her when she is in the most protected place she will ever be in.

I never saw myself here..I swear a few years ago, I would have never seen myself as a heroin addict, manic depressive bi-polar psycho, who believes her children are truly better off without her. Yes. I do believe they are better off with out me. At least they wouldn't be looking at living in a damn shelter in a few weeks. Or sharing a couch and floor with each other and their parents in the middle of drive-by central. At least then, if I weren't here, the state would help my boys.

Yes. That is where we will be in a few weeks. Either in my in-laws living room, living in the middle of the ghetto, where the house next door gets shot at on a weekly basis. Or.. In a fucking homeless shelter. And, not until we are homeless for 60 damn days will the lovely, children 1st state of Connecticut, lend a helping hand.

Fuck. I have always fended for myself. Never needed to live off the damn state. Yes. I got married young. Yes, I was a teen mother. But damn it. My children, almost all three, in fact all 5 of my damn pregnancies have been fathered by the same man. Damn it. I moved out at 16, always been able to pay my own damn way. Even when the damn times got tough, my husband and I have gotten through it.

Then I lost my mind. Then everything went down hill. Starting with the depression and suicide attempt, continuing with the heroin, followed by us losing everything. Then things started looking up. For a whole couple months. Now... Back to falling down this damn hole into the pit of darkness, where everyone is just standing at the top laughing at us struggling to hold on.

I am sick on holding on. I am sick of fighting so hard to provide for my children. I just want what any caring mother wants.

To provide for my children.

I just want some help finding a place and paying to get out foot in the damn door. And a damn job for my husband. Yep. Fourteen months laid off now. Unemployment should have run out weeks ago, yet, some how he is still collecting. Some people would love to make what he makes a week in unemployment at a real job. But when your rent is more than most mortgages in the area.. it just does not cut it.



I knew if I began to type I would calm down. At least for now the tears and shaking have stopped. Now to prevent these suicidal thoughts from returning I must continue to fight and search for help. I know it has to be out there. I know this damn state cannot really expect someone who is actually not milking the system to go into a shelter with a preschooler, toddler, and soon to be newborn. I know if I keep fighting, as much as I don't want to I will find what I need to take care of my boys.

Been a while huh?

Wow, I haven't blogged in ages! So much has happened!



I am in my 2nd trimester of my pregnancy-going great, check the details (and pictures) our at my other blog The Unexpected. Oh, if boy, baby is Samual Adam; if girl, Bailey Grace Elizabeth.

My parents moved out! We are officially on our own. Tom and I in our own room. Thomas in his own real bed. Collin in his crib, when he isn't climbing out. The boys are lucky enough to have a playroom, all to themselves! They love it! I my own computer back, though it is really slow and old, I have my photoshop back! We have the backyard all to ourselves, the boys love it!
-Oh and we also have a roommate! Vinny is my brothers friend of 7 or 8 years. And helps us out with the rent, which is great! He isn't ever home when I am so it works perfectly!

Work is going great! I love waitressing so much its weird. I love the tips, the attention, and all the flirting. Who knew being pregnant would turn on so many guys? In fact, one guy actually said to me, "Man I so wanna bite the shit out of your belly!" WTF?? Whatever... Hours will be getting cut soon as the leagues are all ending, but all is well.

The meth. program sucks.. I refuse to see the shrink there anymore, as he thinks I am crazy.. Apparently I am not stable enough to take home my methadone bottles, I may OD or poison my kids or something... Fuck him. Plus he wants to prescribe me meds that are catagory X for pregnancy... Fuck him again. I really wish I could detox. I really want to detox. I believe I am ready to detox. I can't detox. Detoxing means buh-bye baby. That would be bad!

My mind is really fucking me. I am having problems decifering fact from fiction, and reality from dreams as of late, and I need to find a new shrink to discuss this shit.. Thank god for free medical now.. I am having alot of manic-down mood swings lately and rapid crazy highs.. I know I need to find a med that I can safely take while pregnany and breastfeeding. I refuse to take a med I cannot breastfeed on, or that will harm my child.

Mostly though things really are going well. Heck I am even planning my very 1st weekend EVER out of CT!

Oh! Here are my latest photos and creation from photoshop!

Got some facts.

Finally, I know some facts.

Here's the story, Daddy is talking to a 21 year old mentally challenged pedophile. He thinks no one knows. We all thought this relationship ended last May. I guess it is still going on, behind everyone's back.

Truth is out now, she never calls him. Only three times since October. He calls her every other day, usually 4 days a week. No call is longer than 6 minutes. And usually there is two in a row.

Can it be, "Hey I am on my way."
Followed by a, "Hey I am here!"

?? Why would he call her? What does he see in her? Why would anyone want to socialize with a person who thinks its normal to violate children?


I will get to the bottom of this and make these scumbags pay.

Daddy Dearest.

Darling daughter, special son...
both of which always considered number one.
When will I be number one?
Wait I am now... Number one when it comes to making the health and financial decisions when Daddy dearest is too far gone to do so himself.
Other than when it comes to smarts I am nothing. Daddy's biggest fuck up, though I am the only child of his with a job, that has ever fled the nest, that takes care of his or her own.

Why is dearest daughter can't even call and ask how I am? Why is it she and special son, both just think I am stupid and need to 'grow up'?
Do they not see how damaged I truley am

I need a friend.

I need a friend to be there for me, as I can be there for them.
I need a friend to listen when I need an ear.
I need a friend who will get me away, when I can't catch a break.
I need a friend who can watch my kids, so I can get some time alone.
I need a friend who can gossip and bitch with the best of 'em.
I need a friend who can come to me with any of their problems.
I need a friend who can count on me, and let me count on them
I need a friendship that goes both ways.
I need a friend.

How will I get by?

How will I get by with out you to bitch to?
How will I get by with out you to help me through?
How will I get by with out you by my side?
Who will I complain to?
Who will I hang out with when I am bored?
Who will I go out to lunch with? And Will they pay?

Nana, through out each of my pregnancies, you have always been there.
Been there to listen, keep company, and to gossip.
Who will help me stay sane this time?
Who will calm my nerves?
Who will drive me to the hospital?
Remember! It is supposed to be you!
Remember after I had Collin? Finally 21? You and I were supposed to go out for drinks at Chilli's! And for our "shots." Man those shots at chilli's were so good...

Who will rock this baby to sleep? Who will instantly stop this baby's crying?
Collin still is desperate to meet you! He wants cookies too.
Thomas misses you bunches, lady, why can't you still be here?

This year without you has been hell, I need you to help me make life better.
Without you, life just doesn't seem worth it.
But I am still needed, so I have to wait to join you.
Listen lady, as soon as I can, I will! I still need my rematch in Skipbo, I know you cheated!

Thomas was asking for you on Halloween. Wondered where you were.
The holidays aren't the same without you, Nana.
We all need you here.

But you are gone. No longer here.
No longer there to listen, to care.

My mother will never take your place.
She will never be the Nana you were.
Hopefully one day, I can compare.



Nana, I hope Tom is right!
I hope this baby is your way of coming back.
I hope this baby is your way of shedding some light.

Tom misses you so much also.
He had no one to get drunk with at Christmas,
no one to pass out at the table with.


Man oh man lady, we need you still..

Father, for you have sinned.

Stop this man for he will kill.

Kill my body mind and soul.

Does he not seee what he does to me? To my husband? My children?

My husband should not worry if today is the day I kill.

He should not worry if it is my father or I.

Its funny how it is my father who provides.

He provides my family with shelter. With light. With cable and internet entertainment.

But why must he rub it in our face during every waking hour.
Not with warm words, but with hurtful angry ones, which make us feel like insignificants, losers, failures.

Then comes big the apology.
The, "I'm sorry, I don't know why I acted that way."
The, "Let me buy you off with presents, or pay you off with cash."

Can't he just understand? We are doing everything in our power now. We are saving every cent.
Does he not see how focused we are? Not even to get out for us. To get away from him.

My children do not need to see mommy screaming and slamming her face into walls.
Especially as she is working so hard on staying calm.

What works? I sat in here counting to 10.. didn't work.. biting my nails.. didn't work.. squeezing my pillow, hugging my son.. nothing works to stay calm, its even worse with him. At least when I argue with my husband, I end up braking down. Realizing how stupid I have been behaving. Not with dear fucking Daddy. Maybe its the clashing personalities.. Maybe the zodiac actually means something. Maybe its our destany for being born exactly 30 years apart to the day. Who fucking knows? Yet, we clash. Bad. Nothing but another can stop us when we fight.


Yet, here I go rambling on again, again with no point.

Whatever, one day it won't get to me. One day I will get out of this state. One day he will realize he needs to just grow the fuck up..

Missing her.

Growing up, for the longest time she was my bestest. My closest. The only one I could tell my deepest, darkest secrets to. And when she is around I still feel the same. Why? I give her my all, I call weekly to check in on her and my nephew. I want to spend time together like in the past. Just bullshitting like always. Her doing my hair, me giving her advice. Maybe driving around aimlessly blasting to some shit, trying to get lost. Or just sitting around watching 7th Heaven, boy meets world and full house reruns. Or even, just sitting on the phone for hours.. I miss those days. You would think now that we both have children we should get to get together more often for the boys to play.

Yet, I feel she wants nothing to do with me. She never calls. Never wants to hang out. Never wants to do anything with me. She doesn't even consider me a friend anymore according to her myspace surveys... heck according to those she doesn't even remember her own nephew was born the same year as her son.. When we talk she is never concerned about how I am, though I am always wondering about her. Hoping she is coping with living with her mom. Hoping she is coping with a fiance that isn't motivated to get their family a place of their own. Hoping she is coping with life as a mother. I worry about her greatly, deeply, constantly.

Does she worry about me? Would she care if I did go through with my suicidal thoughts? Would she even notice if I weren't here anymore? Does she ever want to spend any time with me anymore? Will it change when the boys get a bit older? Or will it be like it is now? Her moms family is number one.. and everyone else is garbage.

All I want is to plan weekly, or bi-monthly play dates. Maybe her and I could hit the gym together. Or go out shopping.. Anything..

What she and I need is to socialize with other mothers. Other women. What is better than your own flesh and blood? Your own sister? We are both women. We are both mothers. Why can we not spend time together? Why doesn't she want to spend time with me?

Do I have cooties or something? Do I smell?

Miss you sis...

More than a Moment.

Man, why? Why oh fucking why?

I just read some awesomely wonderful amazing news. I will finally get to meet one of my bestest friends in the whole damn world. I think I deserve a fucking moment of fucking happiness?

Anyone else?

Or does everyone on the god damn planet want me to be miserable every fucking moment of every fucking day?



Man.. I love my parents to death, they are doing so much for me and my family, but do they need to make me feel even more disgusted with myself than I already am?

Do they need to remind me every fucking day that with out them, I wouldn't fucking exist and my children wouldn't have a fucking roof over their heads?
Do they need to remind me every fucking day that with out them, I would be completely fucked?
Do they need to rub in all they have to do is tell me to get out and I will be fucked?!
Does she need to tell me EVERYFUCKING HOUR OF EVERYFUCKING DAY that I need to save up and get an apartment?

Man..

Fuck.

No birthday for Collin,
No christmas for my boys.
No work for my husband.
No happiness, no joy.

No where to go soon.
Not a place for me to live.
No reason to go on.
Why on earth should I continue to give?

Why do I care?
About everyone around me?
I put everyone 1st..
Yet, no one can see.

They think I blame all.
Anyone but myself.
They think I have no sense of anything
for anyone but myself.

They see me as a baby.
As one who could care less.
About anyone, anywhere,
About anyone but myself.

I do care.
I put everyone 1st.
If someone needed it,
Fuck, I would just rip off my shirt!

I cry, I grimace,
I run and I hide.
I just fucking let
my emotions hang on the outside.

I let people know how I feel.
I don't try to hide.
Its is everyone else
that cannot simply find.

They can't find their way.
Everyone comes to me.
Fuck them, I can't handle their shit!
Why can't they see?

Why can't they see,
that I just don't function right...
How can I take care of anyone,
when I don't even see the light?

I try my best to be
everyone's number 1.
I cannot do that anymore.
Don't they see I am done?

I am done putting everyone 1st
I need 1st to be my family.
I am done helping everyone.
I need to help me!

I don't want to live.
I don't want to care.
I don't want to be.
I don't want to share.

I am done sharing my hand,
when I get nothing in return.
No one can offer me hope.
Everyone just leaves me to burn.

Fuck everyone,
anyone I know.
I may not have
anywhere to go.

But I do have the fact that I try.
I always try.
But I am always left,
just left to just die.

I am not the selfish one
It is those around me.
Those that are just
to fucking selfish to see.

To see how they really are.
How they always blame me.
To see how they really act
How they hold that fucking key.

The key that controls
Everyway I am.
Controls how I feel.
How I am nothing but a lamb.

I cannot even call
myself a fucking sheep.
I am not big enough..
I am just a fucking creep..

I am nothing
I always have been..
I am nothing
I will always be.

Fuck you,
for I am fucked.
No where to go,
No one to want me,
No one to care,
No one even fucking really knows me
to even understand,
let alone,
offer a helping hand.
Fuck Everyone.

Conversation between Tom and I

"Why aren't you trying to find work hun?"

"No ones hiring yet.."

"What about Mcdonalds or some crap like that? Ya know, it is something.."

"I make $XXX.XX on unemployment, do you really want me working part time for minimum wage?"

"No.. that would suck even more than you not working.."

"Then why do you keep bringing up me not having a job?"

"Because we cannot live the way we are much longer, Tom, I am not going to make it through this much longer!"

"Sweetie, we don't have a choice, this is the bed we made, we have to lay in it now."

"Our kids should not be living in this situation. They should not be sleeping in the same room as us. Thomas should be sleeping in a real bed! You and I should both be working. You and I are supposed to be raising the boys. Not us and my parents! We cannot live here much longer we need a place to live, Tom. Our boys need a place to live, not next year, not next week, but now! We need to get out and be on our own again!"

"I know, but we cannot be on our own until I can find work. I won't find work until I can make more than I get in unemployment, I can't do that until my union is hiring again and I pay off my dues."

"How can you pay off your dues if we cannot even afford to live on our own? Or Collin's birthday? Or Christmas? Or much of anything?"

"Nicole, this is not forever. We are going to get through this. We always get through everything."

"Yea.. Right.. I should just fuckin' end my life! Then I at least would not have to worry about where our kids next fucking meal comes from. Then I wouldn't have to worry about the fact that you all have a place to go but me.
Fuck it, I might as well just leave. I might as well be dead. Everyone would be better off, at least my negativity would be out of the way."

"Nicole? Stop talking like that! You shouldn't be talking like that. You know we need you. You know we love you. Stop talking about killing yourself. If there is anything that we don't need its that!"

"Well, Tom, this is me, this is who I am. I want to kill myself. No one really cares anyway, not you. Not my parents or yours. Hell the only people who even convince me they do really care I don't even fucking know. Fuck you. I am leaving. After I type out our convo on my blog I am leaving!"

"Yeah.. And where are you even going to go? You don't even have a car to get you anywhere!"

"Exactly. I am going to walk until I can't anymore, then end it. I am going to fucking end it all! I cannot feel this way anymore. I am sick of freaking out about life. I am done. I know my boys, and you, the loves of my life will be okay. I know I won't be. So I am going to leave, do something that I know will end my life. Then the cops will call after a few days, and ask you or my parents to identify my body. Then a bunch of no good assholes I can't even remember will come to my wake and funeral. Then I will just be a distant memory.
And the great part. The only good thing about everything about me is, is that the boys are so young they won't even remember what a douchebag, what a worthless piece of shit I really am! Isn't that awesome? They are so young they won't even need to know! Just tell them I love them, over and over, and will be with them when they pass on, when they are old and grey.

"Nicole, stop! You are not making any sense!"

"Yes hun, I am. I am not needed life sucks to much to be fixed for me. I love you and the boys so much that I know what is best for you three. And I am not it.

I reach in for a kiss, go and kiss the boys. Begin walking out the door.

"Nicole, stop what the fuck are you doing?"

"I told you I am done. You will get a call in a few days to i.d. my body. I love you."

I go into my brothers room, hop on his computer, type out this last conversation. Press "Publish Post" and leave.

Peace Yo'
Nicole Ann Lalla Montgomery

Thanksgiving

What do I have to be thankful for? Most definitely my children, my husband, my parents, my inlaws, and my few few friends. What else? Hmmm... I don't think there is anything else. I hate this. I hate being so fucking negative, especially on a holiday. Especially a holiday were you are supposed to be so fucking grateful for what you have.. How can I be full of thanks when I feel so terrible. When I have so much hatred, guilt, and self-pity filling my soul? How can I be thankful, when this is been the worst year of my entire life? When will I get over this? When will I get over myself? When will I move on with my life? Why do I always live in the past?

Happy Turkey..