Now, THAT was a performance! LOL!

From June 18, 2014, when I saw him at Crusty's son's house; jumping in and out of his truck. No cane while climbing the stairs to: a bent over, shaking, pretending to not be able to stand, even with a cane on July 3 rd. I remember him practicing pain before he went to the doctors! Oh now THAT was rich...The judge said "collossal bs" referencing his defense....The Judge couldn't have said it better. Lol! Crusty and Glen sat there and actually backed up this stunt....I wonder if it ever occurs to them; that he's bsing them as well! Lol!
Oh Crusty explains that I'm scorned...AND want her truck, as an explanation of why I pressed charges on him....AGAIN! I pressed charges because he hit me again in a drunken, drug withdrawal...on the 5th of the month, after I got home from being hospitalized for panic attacks, for Christ's sake. I told him THAT day "it's not the worst hit I've taken from you, but it's the last. I will be leaving the marriage beginning this day"; as he sat at the kitchen table smoking crack from a beer can. You. Crusty. Are/Were Not a part of the equation at all at the time. In fact he didn't meet you until the 20th of that month. He said "well, her legs were wide open; so I f**ked it". I saw you the 22nd of this same month (at the Brickhouse smooching all over one another), and at that point, I was almost moved out. Maybe your ego tells you that you snagged/stole my husband...not so. I was already gone. I couldn't press charges because (as you know) he had combed every street and found my son's car, and hence found where I lived. He and Robert drove by several times daily, along with YOU, once that I saw. He called me up to 17 times daily when you were at work. When you found out that he and I visited at Robert's house...you promptly quit your job, stating they were mean to you. Lol. When I gave up and moved again, where YOU and he did not know where I was...is when I pressed charges. That is also when I   filed for divorce.

The pictures of my face were not doctored at all. You are really 'seeing' things. Did your head hit the headboard one too many times?

He stole BOTH of my caddy's. His name was taken OFF MY business in November 2006...through the courts in S.C. I am not doing business in his name. Never did. In fact I am not doing any business. However, I did begin to start a business for him...You know the one. Where he certifies vessels radio's etc. Lol! Capt. Jensen mean anything to you....

Both wrap yourselves in the warm cloak of victimhood...victim mentality. Look it up...suits him and you well.

Now, about belongings...he sold all of mine and his. Or pawned it for drugs...Nothing was left except what I saved for the kitchen, my books, and some of my art...like the mermaids which Ron and Morra made in likeness of me. He took 2 and made up some story about him getting them overseas. Lol! He never left the base. Never has been overseas. I gave him a few pots, pans, dishes, microwave, pictures, t.v., some furniture which he and you left behind for me to clean up out of our house. He drugged up everything we ever worked for.

Oh and I blocked you Antonia, sneaky little maggot.

Junk Yard Dog

I finally figured out what she reminds me of: a junk yard dog. Yep, that's it. My husband and I were having some trouble. He said "well, her legs were wide open, so I f*cked it". She has been down right rabid. My husband called me up to 11 times a day, but not on her days off; for months. She has been stead foot in the way of he and I talking. After 21 years of marriage I have a junk yard dog snapping at me and guarding what she thinks is hers.

I don't live there any longer...

We loved for many a year. I miss that sometimes. Then I remember....
He makes up stories about me, to cover his own guilts, now. Drugs and alcohol took him, and spite put him with trash. 
Now, he's stuck with trash. Mooching off of good folks for about a year and a half now with his trash. Some, not so good folks. 
So, I wonder how I stole my own coffee pot?
He and trash, trashed my house, and I was left to clean up the mess.
"I gave her everything"...hahaha... stole everything is much closer to the truth.
He drives her cadillac now. He tells everyone it's his. Just like he drove, and stole both of mine....
So, I was so terrible for 21 years? Not.

I don't live there any longer...with a monster.

Lost to me

Oh here I go again; thinking of loss. All the folks that I've lost along the way. Some through death, mournful marriage ending, and just natural change. Lost hope, dreams, plans. I'm not grieving as I was now. I miss Zachary, yet I am so grateful for him at the same time. I miss my dad. But I have reminders of my lost husband sometimes. I had hope that he would find his way. For his own sake. Well, and mine too. It's only been a little over a year, and 21 years were spent together. We went through hell together. Pictures of him keep surfacing, and little items, and I catch a glimpse of him on occasion. Memories flood my mind every now and then; and I shoo them away for fear of falling into a dark place. Or fooling myself. I long for my partner at times, when I KNOW he is no good for me. Good and bad; we were companions.
 Snow geese landed in the yard today, and I became melancholy. It's been bleak and cold this winter. Inside and out.  Living in this dilapidated old bungalow, has it's ups and downs. One down has been that when it snowed. It snowed inside the house! Lol. Yet, I'm making it okay.  The up is: watching the moods of the Chesapeake Bay every day.
Setting my mind on living the few years I have left on this journey, with purpose. Success in focusing on pleasant tasks to make me better; and heal this most shattered heart of mine.

Recently...

Someone asked me if I knew you. So many memories flew through my mind. Some so very happy, and some so completely sorrowful. I realized as I smiled that a tear was on my lash; and I told them : I used to

When he closed his eyes; I went to sleep...

This time of  year, since the death of my lil' son Zachary; I feel him so strongly, as today is the eve of his death so many years ago. Though, somehow, not so long ago. I find myself patting my own chest, as if I'm holding him, the beating of his heart on mine, arms around my neck,  head resting on my shoulder, sweet breath on my cheek, in his own darlin' way...patting his lil' back as I used to do almost daily. I feel him. He was 'bigger' then, and didn't need "mom-mom" so much. I miss that little guy. He would run, fall down ten times, and get up eleven! See, he had mild cerebral palsy on the left side of his body. More than likely why; he couldn't get away from those rolling logs in time, before they pinned him to the earth, under they're enormous weight. He was a spunky little fella, and quadruple the spirit of any other boy. He had to try much harder to physically accomplish things, though he didn't seem to notice. He didn't cry much,... even that day; just one tear on the rim of his lashes. Just a low whisper: "mom-mom", as he looked up to see me, just knowing that "mom-mom" could fix this too! Both of us losing hope; as his innocent blue eyes were becoming fixed. I do hope he felt some comfort knowing I was at least; there with him, as we both struggled for his life. I kissed every boo-boo, wiped every tear, slept by his side as I wiped his fevered brow. But, I couldn't fix this one..... The day his 'loving tree': hugged him; to a breath away from death. Held him so long and hard; that he was in a vegetative state from September 15 through October 26. I brought him home from Children's Hospital on October 21st, so that he would breathe his last breath where he belonged: at home. With us. His family. With me.  "Mom-mom".
I can still hear him say "Mom-mom, myyyy love you", and I would answer; saying that I loved him too.Though  I would also correct him and say: "Zacha, say: I love you, not MY love you". He would hold up the tops of his hands for me to kiss, to leave my lipstick print, and say "myyy am"! I kissed his hands in just that same way, before we laid him to rest in his final earthly bed with his favorite Spider Man p.j.'s on. Remembering how he would lift his leg (in a karate kind of way), trying to balance, with his arms outstretched, laughing ... "kowa bunga dude". Wondering if he was warm enough, tucking his blanket about him. This time of year brought the Canadian Geese, which he delighted in especially; calling out with upturned face to the sky "honk honk", while running to try to keep pace. Zacha especially LOVED his brothers and sisters. This is where he found his truest comfort as he was getting 'bigger'. 
Today I turn my face to the sky above The Chesapeake Bay, which was his most favorite place to be,  his home, put on my favorite lipstick, and blow a kiss to our beloved. 
 He was 4 years old. Casket's shouldn't come so small. 

I believe in monsters now

I never did believe in monster's. Only fairies, good witches, happy leprechauns, and such. Now, I know the truth is: there are monster's. Human form, whom  freeze one's soul with deliberate harm. Nothing freezes the heart as hard and fast as the horrors folks intentionally inflict upon one another. Whether it be physical, emotional, and/or financial. I trusted someone whom never deserved my trust. He snicker's, feeling he got me, hurt me...and it is true. He has/are doing these things. Why? Raise his sticks and cry? I suppose stirring the pot suits him. He is putting forth a great deal of effort to continue to cause pain. Sheesh...hasn't he done enough? When will he be satisfied? What will it take? Is my living a good life eating him up inside? Take some more pills Ed, or drink another 18 pack, you'll feel normal again. I just don't know. It is a tortured path to choose to take. Is he angry that he shook the whore tree, and a housewife didn't fall out? Lol!
I lost my own reflection, for many a year. Became a lifeless shell of a woman based on fear alone. Terror, illness, deliberate sabotage of me financially, kept me still and silent for so very long. Though it is still misty, and veiled... I'm beginning to see myself again. I so wish that he would simply stop. Leave me alone. Just stop.
I am grateful for the folks that have fallen into my lap, since I walked out of hell. I leave Ed; and tons (well not tons), of decent, thoughtful, helpful, understanding people have been becoming part of my life. I think to myself; and I wasted all those years believing a lewd, malicious liar. My god, how stupid could I be? Can ya tell? I'm not feeling so positive right now. I feel as though I am being pushed to fight back. The fight has left me. I am happy with who I am, and whom I'm not. I don't want to be any part of hurting anyone, no matter what they've done to me. I know the pain far too well, which makes me cringe at pushing back. Yet, its survival at this point. So be it. Damn.