Sarcasm is free, but not everyone seems to appreciate it.

Sarcasm is free, but not everyone seems to appreciate it.

Wow, its a good thing I am not a mommy blogger, or news reporter. My long stretches of unblogged time might cause my hoards of imaginary fans to worry. Well, I’m not so its okay. I could say that so much has been going on that I’m just to busy but truth is I forgot my password this one time, and then I have 5 loud, impatient, youths who live to make me crazy that I’m trying to raise into productive members of society, plus the dogs, cats, lizards, 3 “adopted” teens, friends babies, family members who all love to have my undivided attention…….. all that keeps me pretty busy, which is good for a recovering addict…. I don’t have the time to scam and score my drug of choice. In February of 2014 I will be 5 years clean. I hope that doesn’t jinx me by being optimistic… After all you take each day 1 day at a time…So here i sit at 6 am Arizona time, trying to remember why I think its funny that sarcasm is free and yet most people don’t want it…..I mean its like words of wisdom or constructive criticism with a little bit of sassy pants added to it. But some people just don’t like it when you give them your sarcasm for free. Personally I think we should have a bonus if the sarcasm was so good that it took the receiver a minute to think about it before it was comprehended. But ……………………. its 6 am Arizona standard time so maybe my brain is being sarcastic by allowing me to sit here and plug out this nonsense that makes perfect sense right now.

Just what to say to your sister, who is deceased….

The picture I posted with this post, is me ( the red head ) my brother ( on his wedding day ) and my older sister ( almost a year before she died )
My sister and I were not close, anymore, we used to be. So close you couldn’t tell us apart if you called the house. We loved the same music, movies, places to go, even friends. We each had our own friends, some that didn’t like me, some that didn’t like her. We had friends that were ours to share, who excepted that with one you got the other. Those friends that didn’t really like me or my sister didn’t get called much and were only seen at school really. My sister was a grade above me and so we didn’t see each other much at school so it was ok to have “other” friends at school. But once we were home, we were inseparable. My sisters boyfriend had to find one of his friends to date me so that I wasn’t the third wheel on all their dates and I wasn’t annoying him. He is still my friend to this day, we don’t talk often or hang out much, but he is there when I need him and vice verse.
I guess that’s enough babbling about high school stuff. We were not always so close, I mean we fought. She moved away for a few years, but no matter what we always found our way home. We fought drug addiction in our early 20’s, we made it past bad relationships and marriages. Through people who wanted to to break up our sisterhood. Cuz see in reality we weren’t sisters. In reality she was the neighbors kid, when I moved to Arizona in 1991 so my mom could remarry. My step dad and Shawnees aunt thought it would be nice if she took me under her wing and befriend me and stuff. It was a nightmare at first. She resented having to babysit me and I resented being in a new place, having this preppy popular neighbor telling me what to do and how I needed to change because she couldn’t be seen with a girl who wore ripped jeans and biker boots and listened to head banging noise. But as time passed and I gradually let go of being a hard bitch and she excepted that I was a foul mouthed, loud sarcastic girl who laughed at everything and intimidated all her friends. We found ourselves spending more time together, and gravitating to each other for a shoulder to cry on, and a person who had your back no matter what. Shaw was just shy of 5 ft, and small, I was 5’9 and 200+ lbs of amazon. She was never one to pursue conflict or confrontation, being more of a passive person. But knowing that whether she was in the right or dead wrong, I would have her back she gained confidence in speaking up for herself. I was quiet around large groups and people that I didn’t feel like I needed to talk to, but I was loud and often abrasive and my social graces were sorely lacking, until she helped me find my inner grace and I looked up to her enough that I started thinking about what I said before I said it, just so I didn’t embarrass her to much. After High School, she graduated I did not, we each had somewhat separate lives, but still spent time together. We each picked men that smothered us and kept us apart from each other. But in Oct of 94 she had her 1st son, and I followed in Aug of 95 with my boy. We loved having kids so close together. My step dad, took to Shaw so much that he basically adopted her into our family and refused to let anyone say she wasn’t his kid, same went for me after my mom and he divorced. We were his and that was it. So he took our kids as his grandsons and to this day counts our children as his own. So years went on and friends came and went, she had another boy, and another failed marriage, I had 2 more boys and a girl, and a failed marriage. But until March of 2006 we still had each other, till the wheels fall off, that’s what we used to say. In 2006 we both began using Meth, we both covered for each other to our spouses when we would go out and cheat, we partied together. Then we decided that we wanted to tell our boyfriends the truth. So then began the 4 of us using together. Until my sister decided to try to get back with her ex husband. I helped her, even going as far as to moving her boyfriend in with me and my husband when she threw him out. She got her ex back and she didn’t feel guilty because she had made sure her boyfriend had a place to go. Well, Meth makes you do things that you would not normally do, and Her boyfriend and I had a history. We were friends for years, before he ever dated my sister, we were friends. He says he nursed a crush on me the entire time we were friends. And when he knew I was never going to look at him as more then my friend, he turned to my sister. For 9 years they were together. Moving from here to Illinois and back. And now here he was in my home dumped by my sister and being my husbands best friend he knew that my husband was unfaithful and abusive. It was easy for the two of us to ” fall in love ” The drugs helped alot. So we kept our affair going for a few months, until my sister found out. She wanted him back and couldn’t believe I had slept with her boyfriend. No amount of reasoning or logic mattered to her. And he loved her still, he used me to feel better about himself, and to hopefully make her jealous enough to want him back. It worked. It was the most horrible time in my life, except for my unreasonably supportive husband. He wanted to make us right again, no more affairs, no more lies. He told my sister my side of things, but she only wanted to believe her boyfriends side. Painting me as the bad girl who pursued him and seduced him away from her. She was so filled with hate and revenge was what she felt she deserved.
I couldn’t understand and to this day still don’t understand how she could put aside the fact that she threw him away for her ex husband, she pushed him at me, and went on with her happy little life until she realized that that he wasn’t just waiting for her to take him back. It was all my fault in her mind and none of what she had done made any kind of an excuse. So, my marriage did end, and I continued to use Meth until Feb of 09. I got clean with my boyfriend and best friend. I began to put the pieces of my life together. Every piece of my puzzle put back in place but for her. She wasn’t going to forgive me. Her life had seemed to be all together. No one ever believed that she used Meth, and her and Chad never admitted it. So I carried that weight all by myself. We were thrown together at family functions, or family emergencies. But she refused to bend. Finally, at our younger brothers wedding in March of 2010 I told her I loved her and that I forgave her and I would wait no matter how long for her to forgive me. She never will, she is gone. I sometimes think that if I would have tried harder I could have been a part of her life and seen the warning signs that things were falling apart for her. But it wasn’t to be, on Jan 4, 2011 my sister died. She overdosed on her prescription meds, and other illegal drugs. I will never know if she was on the path to forgiving me. My dad, and brother tell me she was. She had even started referring to me as her baby sister again. I love her still, and I am at peace in a way with the fact that I was able to tell her I loved her and I was able to forgive her and wait for her to forgive me.
There are songs that I hear and find myself crying as I sing along, because they were our songs. Garth Brooks ” A friend to me” is a big one. Doug Stone “Better off in a Pine Box” is another. But last year Black Shelton wrote a song for his brother, his wife Miranda Lambert recorded it as Blake said it would be to emotional to sing over and over again at shows and concerts. ” Over You” expresses just how deeply I feel about my sister and the loss of her. So I’m going to end here for now as this subject has finally made its way to form a knot in my throat and my vision blurry. But I share with you the words to this song and hope that it may be a song that you can hold dear to your heart like I do.
 Weather man said it’s gonna snow
By now I should be used to the cold
Mid-February shouldn’t be so scary
It was only December
I still remember the presents, the tree, you and meBut you went away
How dare you?
I miss you
They say I’ll be OK
But I’m not going to ever get over you

Living alone here in this place
I think of you, and I’m not afraid
Your favorite records make me feel better
Cause you sing along
With every song
I know you didn’t mean to give them to me

But you went away
How dare you?
I miss you
They say I’ll be OK
But I’m not going to ever get over you

It really sinks in, you know, when I see it in stone

Cause you went away,
How dare you?
I miss you
They say I’ll be OK
But I’m not going to ever get over you

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Angry All The Time??

This is me, sitting down having no mental outline for a blog. Just my head and heart overflowing with ” stuff ” that I need to vent out. Maybe if I share my ” stuff ” it will help me sort throught it and get a grip on it. Whatever it is…

I have 4 children, thats 4 lives I brought into this world through no choice of thiers. Thats 4 little souls that count on me to be there for them. I am supposed to care for, nurture, teach, love, inspire, encourage, etc…… you see where I am headed with this, right? Ok, well I failed. Miserably, completly, and willfully failed my children. I dont even know why I did it, choose drugs over family, but I did. Not only did I let my grip on reality slide, but I took my husband down with me. I didnt even know the plane had crashed, until almost 4 years later. Thats how off the reservation I had gone. I lost my job, crashed my car, cheated on and was cheated on, lost my home, lost my family, and for just about 3 years after all that loss I was still thinking I really had no issue, it was everyone else with the problem.

Guess who really got stuck with the trauma of my choices…. Yes, your right..it was my children. They ended up seperated, my oldest with his paternal grandparents, the other 3 with thiers. My husband out of the big picture on his big adventure, and me on mine. But today, this ” stuff ” isnt about then, or rehashing history. Its about now, and the reprocussions of what happened then.

My theory on the past is this, yes I screwed up, yes I am sorry I hurt my children, family, and friends. Can I fix the past? No, but I can be all that I wasnt then, now. I also feel that moving forward is the only option, not making excuses, not being guilted, and not feeling sorry for yourself. Everyone has problems, you have to get over it. You learn to live with the things in your life. You have to learn what you accomplish inspite of things that might be used as enablers to quit or make excuses as to why you cant do things.

Three of my kids came through the damage and distruction, with minimal mental and emotional scars. Thats not to say they werent changed or traumatized by what they went through, but they were able to push past the negative and use the positive to move forward. My middle son, my Turtle Boy, was not so lucky. He was 3 when his life changed, he didnt come through it like his brothers and sister. He has been diagnosed not just with ADHD, which I feel can be treated with structer, routine, and guidance, not just medications, but also PTSD, Compulsive Aggression Disorder, and Impulsivity Control Disorder. All together it means he is hyper active, with severe anxiety, that can explode into uncontrolable fits of rage with no warning, and he rarely remembers what happens during an episode. This is his nightmare, and he is so undeserving of it. He is the most empathetic, loving, compassionate kid, and one small misstep in his minefield and he will lose all ability for rational thought and end up heartbroken for it later. 

As a mom, I know my son can learn to work through all of the labels that have found their way infront of his name. As his mom, I know that I am responcible for helping to put those labels there. As his mommy, I am so lost as to what is the right way, or the wrong way to help him. This life of ours has become a maze of treatments, and ideas. Some help, for a while, others lead to dead ends, while some seem to just go on in one direction forever, never helping him, but keeping him on a level playing field.

I fixed me, I am in recovery and I have worked very hard to gain back the things that I could, find new and improved versions of the things that I had to replace, and take eachday as it comes. I am stable, as a person with an addiction, and anxiety can be. I use routine and structure, and the foundation for our daily lives. I have strong, positive relationships with the people that love and want only the best for my kids. I wish I could say the same for my ex husband. I cant. His life is still out of his control, and spiraling downward again. And this time I get to watch as my baby, declines at the same pace as his father. I dont know what I can do to help him, that I am not doing already. But I am failing him again. 

His mind is frozen. He refuses to allow himself to feel any emotion, he will not allow his mind to expand and absorb new information. He is Angry All The Time. 

I will not quit on him, I will not lose this war, even if some battles are lost. Tomorrow I will get up, I will hug my children, I will send them off to school, I will encourage them to grow, I am not powerless. I am a fighter, my children worth the fight, and will learn to fight for what they hold dear. 

Though, today I feel beaten, Im not dead. I take a deep breath, hold my head up high, take another step forward. This is what I want my children to learn from me. That getting knocked down isnt what is important, it is something that will happen more then a few times in thier lives, its the getting up and standing tall, taking the next step forward, thats what really counts. Nothing can defeat you if you refuse to give up. 

There, I think I have let out enough uncertainty, and given myself a good confidence reminder. Now, I am going to let my son know that he isnt supposed to expect to be a perfect person, he is perfect as the person he is. 

Why me, why meth?

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As the 4th year of my being clean from that shit came and went, I realized just how fragile the grasp I had on my real, reality. Being clean wasn’t the hard part, staying clean wasn’t the hard part, getting clean now that was tough. . . but . . . It wasn’t the hardest part. That came just yesterday. 

On October 20th of 2006 I lost my 3 youngest children, not like they wandered away at the Costco lost, but that they were saved from my self destruction by my then mother in law. My then husband and I were reaching the end of our marriage, had reached the end of our sanity and all self control. Our main focus was our drug of choice, and abusing each other. Neither of us really had a job anymore, and its very sad because we both actually were on our way up in very promising careers. I had recently totalled our 1 car, having long sold off our 2nd car for drug money since we no longer needed 2 cars when we had no jobs. You see the twisted logic here. The Sheriff had been to our home to many times to count for domestic disturbances, and twice I was transported to the E.R. only to leave because I was to high and scared to stay, while Mr. Jeni was arrested and transported to county jail for assault. It was enough for my in laws. I had a live in boy friend, who was supposed to be my husbands best friend, he was just as crazy as we were. Hell, so were all of our ” friends” and our home was no longer a home, but a flop house. I was so close to eviction, and didn’t even care.

So, there went my husband to jail to stay for at least a month or more, there went my children, the little lives that used to hold the most value to me, and there I was with my boyfriend. High, sad, high, angry, high, depressed, and well high. I sold off almost everything I owned for drug money, and to fix my boyfriends car. Ended up living in my brothers small apartment in his dining room. High. I wont bore you with the rather unboring details of the next 3 years, lets just say, I saw did some crazy things, spent some nights eating cold ham sandwiches with crazier women then I, and moved from place to place to many times to remember.

January 2009, here I am again, high, alone, boyfriend having taken a break from my crazyness for a month, and facing another eviction. Almost everyone I knew in my little drug world was in jail, waiting on trial. Some real friends I had almost made along my journey were scarce as I was out of control and they were scared of me and for me. Finally I was rescued, my boyfriends best buddy, and dealer, went to jail. His girlfriend and her 2 kids alone and needed help, just as much as me and my boyfriend did. So we had a place to live and she had help with her kids. Still we were high. At this point I began to realize how much I missed my babies, and hearing my name “mommy” being sung through my home. I had seen the kids maybe 5 times over the past 3 years. I had no right to hear the word mommy really.

It was time, for all of us adults in the house to get right. You would never guess how we went about getting ourselves right. It was quite an adventure. First we had to get rid of the things around house that had been acquired due to Meth. So we had a Spousal Restitution Sale, posted on Craigs List, in the middle of the night OF course. So that was the first step, cleaning house, the second step, hiding from the friends ” of the life”, but that was kind of easy as most were locked up or hiding from being locked up. And number 3, pick our Independence Day, and start the withdrawal party. Feb 18th, 2009….. 3 people having met through our drug use, nothing in common to really make us friends, went through a nightmare with each other, for each other. We did it, we made it past the shakes, the need to be high, the sleeping for days on end, the crabbys, everything you think you know about it, and then more. I went from a size 8ish, to a size 18 almost over night. I have never been a smoker, so instead of nicotine, I was a hard candy junkie. I guess it took about 4 months before the want, and the need really wasn’t there anymore. For any of us.

Then real life came to visit. Traffic fines I had totalled over 10,000. came knocking. I had to quit ignoring and start being proactive in handling my life. I spent way to much time with warrants and overnight jail visits over traffic tickets then was necessary. Jeremy, the man who stuck with me from start to finish, had some similar court issues also. Lolo, my amazing buried treasure and best friend needed to get back on track with a job that she had worked for years, and loved, but was endanger of losing. So we all 3 had our battles to fight. I also was looking at a war. 

Over the years I had seen sporatic visits from my still then husband, he was just as much of a mess as me for a while. His mother pulled him out and forced clean living on him to give our children at least 1 decent parent. That lasted long enough to get through 7 months of court cases to decide the custody of our children and get divorced.

I made the first move, I filed papers to terminate his parents temporary custody of my kids. I went in thinking ” oh, I got this.” I was so cocky, I mean I was clean, I had shown progress in working out my court issues, I had a stable home. Four months does not show a judge that I am ready to be responsible for 3 lives I had already damaged with my bad choices. I was granted my petition, but I was not given my children. They were to remain with their father, in their grandparents home until such a time as a custody agreement was done through a divorce proceeding. My visitation was a few supervised hours every other Sunday. I was crushed. I was unrealistic, and not prepared to deal with the anger, hurt, mistrust, and estrangement I felt from the people who were my family.

I think I was going to give up, to involved in selfish pity, to realize that as painful as it was to go through, I had made the first step. I needed to keep walking forward. The phone calls were hard, I cried so much that the kids were upset and took the calls very hard. I had to get a grip, be stronger then I really was. The first visit was not the joyful reunion I thought it would be. My babies were not the babies I remembered, I was not the mom they dreamed I would be. I was a crying, clingy, scared, scatter brained mess and they didn’t know me. I will say that the calls got better, the visits became happier and progress was made, one step at a time.

Divorce court, here again I thought, I am the mother, so I got this. No problem. Wrong again. Jay, and his lawyer had it all planned out, paperwork in order, nice and tidy and correct with the court. Me, I hired a paralegal late in the game and though I had several things working against Jay, I was still in no way ready. He took round one of divorce court, or so I thought. I was devastated. He got custody, he got child support awarded, he demanded hair follicle and urine testing on me, and was awarded that as long as he did the same. I was awarded weekend overnight unsupervised visits every other weekend. So, a small victory for me in that. But I couldn’t afford child support, or the cost of weekly urine testing and the first test including a hair sample was not cheap. But I keep waling, one step at a time. Within a month Jay was willing to drop child support if I would agree to the custody agreement, and drop the weekly urine tests. He also promised that I would have more time with our kids. So I settled, the fight wasn’t the important part, it was the kids. I hadn’t realized that I had made the second move in getting full custody of my kids. November 11th, 2009 my divorce was made final. Jay had residential custody, with final decision making and I had weekends, holidays, phone calls, and no child support to pay. He got free of the drug testing and that was all he wanted. His parents continued to raise our kids and Jay went off to crazy land again.

I still pressed on, one step at a time. Gaining the kids trust, their grandparents trust, and getting to know who I was as “mommy” again.

We waited, we watched, and we were patient. Jason moved him and the kids into an apartment with his new love and they married. And we waited, and I continued forward one step, into the next. Then it happened. The door that I knew would open, did. Jay slipped up and once one domino fell, they all went down. I watched as his world began to crumble and he didn’t even seem to be aware of it. 

His mother, someone who I once thought of as family, then the enemy, was now my advocate. The children needed me, and she believed I was ready, and her faith in her son was gone. It only took till July of 2011 for me to see that everything had happened the way it did to bring me to this one moment. I filed about a million papers, copy’s in triplicate. And waiting to see the same judge that had granted my divorce. I guess, Jays current legal charges, and incarceration spoke for itself, because I never saw the judge that day. He granted me the kids on an emergency order and set a hearing for 30 days out to hear both sides and review and modify his original orders if needed. I cant describe my feelings as I left the court building. Relief, redemption, vindication, validation, those were for myself. For my children, I felt pain, anger, betrayal, and I was so scared. How was I going to tell them about this new change in their lives, and what do I tell them about their dad…….I finally got what I wanted, I knew that it would happen pretty much the way it did, but I wasn’t feeling like a winner. I think that’s when I finally realized I was mommy again, because my feelings took second place to my children. 

So, my life now, I have a job I am happy with, and its a step in the direction of my career choice. I have paid off the last of my court traffic fines, and am a licensed driver, with my own car. I have a bank account, not busting with money, but not in the red. I am on the verge of a new home purchase in the area where I currently rent. Its a nice suburban neighborhood with great schools. My anchors to the real world still by my side, Lolo and Jeremy. We have lived together for over 4 years, raising kids, rebuilding our lives and working together to keep moving forward. I say I a lot, but I really isn’t singular for me. If it wasn’t for Jeremy’s love, Lolos belief and trust I wouldn’t even “be”. 

This story has been difficult to let go of, and its really the short, abridged, rated PG, version. There is so much more to the adventures of Jenibear into the decline of Meth. But I will save those for another time. I want you tell you why I had to sit down this morning and let the past overflow from my memory.

Yesterday at 11 am I watched as someone else sat in a court room and lost her children. The woman who replaced me as Mrs. It really was heartbreaking to be a witness to. I even let myself be called before the judge to give as much of a positive statement as my conscience would allow on her behalf. It wasn’t much, but it was the truth, and it didn’t help. The current Mr. and Mrs. look a lot like the Mr. and Mrs. of years ago. I watched it happen these past months, and protected my kids as best as I could with my ex mother in law still my faithful advocate. He love of my children saved their lives, I doubt that not one bit. Her anger and hurt, and mistrust at me, well I had earned that. Easily, as a matter of fact. It was much, much harder to win her faith, respect, trust and love back let me tell you. 

My kids are going to be OK, they wont ever be free from the past. Its left scars on all of us. Its still haunting my ex and I don’t see that he will ever be free. I wonder how many will be dragged down with him as time goes on? His step children, they are in a better place right now. We all know this, but the admission is still tough to say out loud. Mrs. is just beginning her war, and she doesn’t even know it yet. She hasn’t recognised the signs of the battles she already fought and lost. But I know, I have seen, and I have fought. I will always have to be ready to fight. Once an addict, well you may be clean, but it always stays with you. 

Be strong, be worthy of the positive things others see in you, you may not see them, but others do. 

Why me, why Meth? I guess it had to be someone, and I lived to tell my story. So maybe that’s why, so that I could share my war with others so that they might see the light at the end of their tunnel, and fight all that much harder to get to it. 

Was it worth it? I don’t know. The lessons I have learned are priceless and the value I place on people is very different today then 6 years ago. I guess the doubt comes from the pain I caused my children, and the lessons they had to learn because of me. So, for me it was worth the fight to teach me the value of what I have. 

Fight, that’s my best advice. One word. For everything you face in life. If you want to truly be free you will have to fight to know that value of life. If its easy to come by, its easy to lose. But the things we fight for, the people who need us to fight for them, will mean that much more and you will fight even harder to keep them in your life if you first must earn the right to claim them.

Happily Ever After, huh?

Hello Word-pressers, today I have had several inspired thoughts….However, some of them took a connecting flight out of the area before I could put them into words. So I used a picture of a statement about tattoos for my first thought, and now I hope to put into words the random passing of my thoughts, experiences,and ideas about relationships and the L word.

I am 37, I have 4 children, 2 baby daddies….both moved on and married to new suckers.  I am not the classic beauty, but I’m not the ugly step sister either. So as appearances go I’m OK. That’s not what caused me to bounce from relationship to relationship until I was 30 years old. Its what was hidden under the big brown eyes, curvy physique, and infectious laugh. 

Oh, yes. please ask me? What could it have been? Not bad breath, or stinky feet. Not because I have as many kids as the woman in the shoe. No DOC number in my past. Its way bigger then those things……. personality…….. Yeah, and not the good qualities either. I mean who can resist a woman who loves to laugh, finds humor in everything, is so open minded that she will at least try most things before deciding its not for her, doesn’t mind the cheap seats, getting dirty, hanging with the family, loves to romance and be romanced, a hard working girl who knows the value of a dollar? Well, quite possibly a man who finds sarcasm, having an opinion about everything, loudly willing to share said opinion, doesn’t know when enough is enough with the jokes and jabs, and cant let go of anything, a bit much to deal with on a daily basis.

I had to learn the hard way that there is a positive and a negative side to every quality. being loud isn’t always a bad thing. I really think not being afraid to speak up for yourself or any injustice you see is quite honorable. 

I finally did find my Happily Ever After man, he was the guy that couldn’t stand me, and vice versa. Through time we learned to respect each other and fell in love. I have to say that this relationship has lasted the longest in my life. Its built off learning about each other and mutual respect. Neither has tried to change the other, and we teach each other to be better people just by accepting each other as we are. 

So yes, there is Happy Ever After. Buts its not from Love at First Sight.

Tattoos

What we take with us…..
When we die, we leave so much behind. Family, friends, pets, stuff…….a lot of memories. Tattoos are a way for us to use our bodies as Bill board for things that have meaning, or interest us. Just like our scars are the road map of our soul, telling the tale of our life as we grow.
Scars are fates way of telling our tale, tattoos are our way of telling our tale.