I’m in a better place, I’m trying to move beyond my anger that seems to reach locally as well as nationally. On a local level I’m still pretty pissed at my mother. The contradiction of her sicky sweet, “Oh poor me” emails coupled with the fact that she’s been telling everyone who will listen that Julien has dropped out of school.

My brother told Julien’s ex-girlfriend that he had dropped out of school and that the choir director at the high school had told him this. A lie, obviously, considering the choir director has arranged for music study to be sent home for Julien to make up for him not being in choir on a daily basis.

The ex-girlfriend that I considered family at one point, is now my brother’s little buddy and obviously a suck up to my mother. She’s turned into a wretched little bitch. I haven’t heard from her in months, but the last time I saw her she mentioned that she was “so worried” about our family. I didn’t get it at the time, but now realize it’s because my mother was filling her head with whatever psychotic nonsense.

Then there is the ridiculous tax levy notice we got, for a bank that we don’t even bank at. Our bankruptcy attorney is a weasel, dipshit, fuckwad who cares more for covering his own ass than protecting his clients. He is (incorrectly) under the impression that the IRS can send out ONE levy notice with whatever bank name on it they want and then levy any and all bank accounts they can find. I researched this morning on the IRS website and found that, no, in fact they send out a levy for each account they attempt to attach.

In the meantime, I’m just going to shuffle money in and out of the account as quickly as I can, which isn’t hard to do considering we seem to constantly run short anyway.

Watching the news to see when congress will either vote on, pass or whatever they are going to do for the new bankruptcy act. One way or the other as soon as the word comes down I am rushing in to file the bk so they can’t touch our account or garnish S.O.’s wages. In the meantime, we are going to stop his direct deposits just until this little matter is cleared up.

I can’t seem to catch a fucking break here. My upper back is so freaking tight that when I go to stretch it pings something in my left ass cheek.

And the desire for revenge is growing daily… but I’m managing to keep a cap on it for now.

Last night I managed to go through most of a liter bottle of Raspberry Vodka. According to S.O. I cackle like a witch when I’m drunk, I don’t think I do it all the time, but last night I distinctly remember playing out revenge fantasies in my head and laughing maniacally at each one. So there you go.

S.O. said he was worried I had crashed my broom when everything got quiet. Turns out I had just fallen asleep finally. Most likely with many sugared thoughts of mayhem, revenge, and blood shed swimming in my head.

Yep, there you have it, the vicious Stella.

I’m waiting for the fallout. Spoke with Deirdre’s principal this morning (I’ve given my kids nicknames, see the Stella page for a description if you need it, I was tired of referring to them as “the boy” and “daughter”) and she (the principal, a lovely woman actually) is going to be *gasp* bringing my mother in for a conference.

Now, the principal has stated that she is going to do so in a non-inflammatory way and without naming names or discussing specifics, I’m not sure how realistic that is, but the end result won’t matter. She’s going to basically as my mother to perform her duties in a professional capacity and keep anything personal completely off-campus.

Without sounding to completely crass, the shit is about to hit the fan.

I was very careful to maintain that my mother is an asset to the classroom. In fact, in a strictly professional capacity she’s good at what she does, she should probably have a full-time teaching position somewhere because at least then she’d be too overloaded to screw with the rest of us.

Arrangements have been formalized. Instead of Deirdre just showing up at the office when my mother is subbing in her class she will now report to the guidance counselor and be reassigned to the library as her own personal study hall. This is far better than her being left in the office looking like she is in trouble or something. She hasn’t done anything wrong here and shouldn’t be treated as if she has.

That all being said… yes, I’m waiting for the fall out. This will undoubtedly send my mother plummeting over the brink. I’m trying not to be fearful of it, but let’s face it, with everything that has gone on it would be remiss of me if I weren’t a little wary.

I’m fuming now. Absolutely steaming.

My brother has taken to snatching my son’s girlfriend’s homework in English class. Yep, you understood that correctly. Mr. Perfect, was requested by the teacher (through a substitute teacher) to collect reading logs or something. Somehow my son’s GF’s homework was “lost” or “misplaced” and she didn’t receive credit for it.

Now this is the same class and same teacher who my brother tattled to not long ago. When GF (son’s girlfriend) approached the teacher explaining that the work had been turned in and she had never received it back to see what grade she had gotten, the teacher basically acted as if GF never turned it in and said that my brother was “trustworthy.”

My brother is usually a favorite of the teachers because he has Asberger Syndrome (a mild form of autism that only affects social skills) and he’s incredibly quiet and shy. In fact, most of the teachers don’t know about the AS and just assume he is quiet and shy. So basically because he’s not a “normal” teenager – he’s more trustworthy than the more social kids in class. Keep in mind that GF has good grades (her mother would KILL her otherwise), she’s smart, and she’s very outgoing.

So naturally, compared to my brother she must not be trustworthy.

I guess her mother is calling the school. It won’t get my brother in any trouble, although it rightfully should. But at the very least the snot ass teacher owes GF the credit for the assignment. Obviously, if she hadn’t turned it in she wouldn’t have inquired as to what grade she received on it, duh.

In other news, my mother has a blog. Did you know that?

Yep, I helped her set it up. Nice of me, huh?

Now she’s using it to lash out at my family. Thank goodness no one reads her pathetic bullshit except for her buddy in Texas. She almost cost him his third marriage because the two of them were “attracted” to one another. His third wife can’t stand her, gee, I wonder why? It didn’t stop my mother from acting all hurt and bewildered and, “Gee, why doesn’t she LIKE ME? I’ve been so nice to her. I’ve HELPED her!”

Anyway, the blog post recently is on Michael Phelps. Ok, fine. So lots of people are posting on this and everyone is welcome to their own opinion, fine. Unfortunately, my mother is striking out at us because she says:

“The results of years of testing have recently revealed the link between smoking marijuana and cancer, in particular testicular cancer in young men.”

There is no link between marijuana and testicular cancer. In fact, the fastest growing age group to be diagnosed is young men, but mostly it’s young ATHLETES. More importantly, she doesn’t know what my son does one way or the other (he’s a runner, do you really think he smokes anything?) but she knows that I occasionally imbibe, I have a prescription to do so, I abide by all the laws here in California and I have legitimate medical reasons to do what I do on the rare occasion I do it.

This woman is so fucking stupid that she threatened to call the police on me the day she started her bullshit when my son got out of the hospital, she really thought that it was a threat that held weight. It doesn’t. And, I told her so and furthermore asked her to please call the police because I was going to press kidnapping charges against her since she had my daughter and was refusing to bring her home. That shut her ass up. If this woman thinks she is EVER EVER going to be allowed my home, my family, or my children she is obviously smoking something and it’s not the good stuff.

Yes, I’m angry. I’m fuming. This was a blatant hit below the belt because she is hoping I still read her pathetic little blog. Know how I know? Suddenly and mysteriously, her blog isn’t accepting comments anonymously and all of her comments are moderated. She’s had that blog for well over a year this is a recent change to the settings.

I’ve made a point of being quiet, made a point of keeping my mouth shut, maintaining “radio silence” and what-not, but I’m rapidly reaching the end of my rope here.

My MIL sent each of our kids a Valentine’s Day card.

Let me be really clear here…

She has NEVER sent them cards for basically anything. Well, when our son was diagnosed with cancer she sent him a card that read, “I’m sorry.”

No, love Granny, I love you… nothing. Were it not for the envelope he wouldn’t have known who it was from.

Two of our children have had birthdays in the last two months she has not sent them birthday cards. Yet, for some reason Valentine’s became important.

We can only surmise that she and my mother are on the outs. Possibly because my mother’s other boyfriend (S.O.’s boss) has been in town and I’m betting she skipped church to be with him and this didn’t sit well with my MIL.

At Christmas our son dropped by to give her Christmas presents. Nothing big, just framed pictures of our kids. She was pretty nasty to him (this would be just three weeks since he had been out of the hospital) and told him, “If that came from THAT house over there, I don’t want it in my house.” Funny considering she worships our youngest daughter and one of the framed pics was of just her, alone.

But here we are with Valentine’s cards from that shrew in our mailbox.

I threw them in the trash. I was tempted to mark them ‘Return To Sender’ with a note on the front of the envelope that read, “We don’t want anything from YOUR house either.”

But, I didn’t. I’m maintaining, as a friend and I refer to it, radio silence.

You may be at loose ends over some recent news, but if you remain focused on the small stuff, you can clear it all out of the way so you can get on with life in the near future. It’s all worth it.

– my horoscope for today.

I got up yesterday morning, my daughter was not feeling well and missed yet another day of school. Last Friday I had taken her to the doctor where she was diagnosed with a stress induced digestive disorder. It causes pain, nausea, fatigue, and shortness of breath. She was prescribed some medication that the pharmacy was slow on filling and we weren’t able to pick it up until yesterday.

Between the appointment on Friday and picking up the prescriptions yesterday I checked the bank to find that I was $450 overdrawn. This included 9 $35 charges by my bank for “overdraft” fees.

The culprit? An un-authorized charge of $100.00 I had to cancel my card, file a complaint, speak to a rather rude, little twit from the fraud department of the bank, and spend a couple of hours in near melt down mode.

By yesterday afternoon I had managed to get my daughter’s meds and get a senior rep of the fraud department to actually listen to me and pursue the claim with Visa. They reversed 7 of the overdraft fees and gave me a $100 provisional credit (fancy term for reversing the $100 erroneous charge) until the investigation is complete. Worst case scenario is that if they don’t find it to be an unauthorized charge I’ll be stuck with the $100 going back on to my account.

S.O. said that this sort of thing wouldn’t be so upsetting if it weren’t for how the last year has been for us.

Last weekend was okay, although, my “thrill” with S.O. was short lived. I’m out of birth control pills (for a hormonal imbalance, yeah, I know it’s not a solution it’s a band-aid) while the pharmacy waits for my doctor to renew the prescription. S.O. likes to attribute this to my not calling in refills in time or some such nonsense, except he doesn’t have any prescriptions and has no clue what a pain in the ass it can be waiting for a doctor to get back with the pharmacy to authorize things. The lack of pills (aka hormones) puts me into horrific mood swings, migraines, fatigue and basically feeling like I am trying to function from the depths of a sludge pool.

As S.O. puts it, “it’s cute for the first couple of days, but after that it’s tough to live with.” Wow, he should try being on this end of it. I mean, he’s cute for a while and then I find myself trying not to jam a fork into his fivehead. Yeah, that was a little snippy crack at my husband’s paranoia over a receding hairline.

See what I mean?

Don’t think I didn’t say that to his face. I did, right after he told me I was cute for the first couple of days.

It’s supposed to rain all weekend. I’m looking forward to it. With a little luck I might just get some action with S.O. this weekend… rainy weather is perfect for that sort of thing, dontcha think?

We’ve decided to put our son on home study for the rest of the quarter. He’s just pushing so hard and doing well academically, but emotionally not so good. He needs more time to heal, rest, and not feel so pressured to spring back to 100% instantly.

As I’m typing this S.O. wandered in with a glass of wine in his hand. I smiled at him and he asked if he could read over my shoulder. I love a man who is that considerate.  Plus, I think he’s kind of hot and I have plans for a steamy weekend so he can read over anything he likes of mine.

Did I ever mention that this entire blog was his idea? He thought I needed a place where no one knew me and I could just start letting loose without fear of hearing about it over family dinners or receiving shitty emails from either of our mothers.

The boy has a blog too. Some day soon I’ll let the link slip out of the bag, but only here. Only with you guys.

The laughter floating down the stairs right now is almost contagious. The boy’s GF is giggling (we call them Giggles and GrabAss around here) and our youngest is in the mix laughing hysterically.

Which reminds me, today on the way home from picking my oldest daughter up from school it was super awesome to hear the youngest call out to her brother and then follow it with, “Guess what? I love you!”

There isn’t much in-fighting around here. No sniping or snapping and if someone is in a really craptacular mood then they seem quick to apologize and make ammends for it. Even me. Honest.

When I look at the era before with my mother up to my armpits in our business and compare it to now where she is just an occasional thorn in my ass, the differences are really amazing. Our home feels more positive. There really isn’t the sniping and snapping that went on between my oldest two children like there was before. The relationship between S.O. and I and all the kids has improved tremendously.

At the height of my mother’s intereference our oldest daughter would barely even speak to her father much less offer up a hug. Now the two of them are co-conspirators, she confides in him more, talks to him more, teases back when she is teased, and frequently calls him “Daddy” like she did when she was little. It really freaks me out to think of all the nasty shit my mother must have been filling her head with, there were literally times she talked to her dad like he was dirt on her shoe. It broke my heart on many occasions.

But, not anymore. Things are dramatically different now.  And it feels really good.

Yes, new look around here. The black was getting a bit depressing and to be perfectly honest, I have a bitch of a time reading the white text on the black background.

The art piece in the corner is one I own a limited edition print of, it’s called “Spring Awakening” by Erin Banks. It’s one of my favorites and it seemed to sort of fit the mood here.

Spring awakening, this is just where my head is these days. I’m hoping spring will arrive and I’ll wake up from this nightmare I’ve been living. That sounds a little melodramatic, I know, especially given that things really are improving.

Laura left a pretty cool comment yesterday:

Deep breath, don’t panic! I’ve experienced something like this before – after prolonged and protracted negativity, you start to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Then, suddenly, RELAPSE and you feel like it’s all going south again. But it isn’t! It truly isn’t! It’s like that one last snowstorm in mid-April before spring FINALLY sets in. You’ll be okay. I promise!

This is the hope I’m hanging on. I’d like to get back to funny bits of dialogue and some of the other things that I created this blog to write about. I guess that’s why I changed from the bleak black, even though I loved the art work on it. I feel like I’m trying to close a bleak chapter on my life and move on to something brighter and better.

I’m half-assedly dieting again. I don’t think it’s really a diet, I’m actually trying to make more of a lifestyle change. Less junk, fewer carbs, more veggies, fruit and fish. Fiber. Lots of fiber.

I’m doing better today. I don’t feel so overwhelmed or frustrated. Although, my daughter has a doctor’s appointment with a new doctor on Friday and they want her shot records. Fuck if I can find them, they’ve been missing since we moved a few years ago. I had always kept them in the same place, right where I could get to them if need be, my underwear drawer actually. Somehow they’ve been shuffled, put in the wrong box, or I thought I had a better organization plan, I don’t know.

But, the not knowing is what is causing me some anxiety twinges.  That and I’m just so damned tired of doctors.

I think we’re going fishing this weekend, might even have some friends over Saturday night. I think I need to just get out and breathe for a while.

I can’t keep doing this. I’m trying. But, I’m bottoming out. It’s too much. All of it.

I’m constantly worried about my son. His emotional state, the fact that he can’t seem to make it through a complete week of school. Yes, he’s had major surgeries, yes, he had cancer… I know, I know. But, where is the line between recovery and normal life? Is the answer tough love? Or am I pushing him and myself beyond the breaking point?

He got up yesterday morning, feeling great, nearly normal he said. Two hours into his school day I get a text message saying that he accidentally was elbowed in the stomach in the hallway and puked in a planter. Contact with his abdomen sends him into near panic attack status, not to mention internally he is still recovering, his organs are still bruised from being jostled around from a major surgery.

And, here I sit worried about absences, grades, and college.

Then there is my daughter with all of her stomach problems and stresses. She seems to be improving the more distance she gains from my mother. Still…

Then there is the 5 year old. This is her last year at home, my last baby, before she starts school in the fall. I have not been able to devote the time to her that I want to be able to.

Of course there is business, files, billing, all the extraneous garbage that spreads out from the main point of the business – the actual work.

I feel like I’m failing all over the place.

I’ve pushed so hard to get past all the garbage from last year and yet, I find myself in the familiar position of having to write all these things out to get them out of my head. Put them somewhere other than my mind where they swirl around becoming bigger and bigger.

Why is everything so hard? Why does it all have to be a big deal? Where is the balance? Where is a moment to just think?

Add to all of this the absolute bullshit from my mother. Her desire to make my life harder for whatever sick and twisted reason. The fact that I just can’t get away from her. She comes after me.

It’s coming back and I don’t think I can ward it off much longer.

So, yesterday was a really bad day. Although, not nearly as bad as the dark days before. I skipped my 5mg on Friday, took it on Saturday, and skipped on Sunday. Yesterday I had a mini-melt down. Things just seemed to be a bit much.

My daughter sent me a text message to let me know that my mother was subbing for her math class. I called the school and she spent the period in the office doing math work. Which is really fine because it’s not like much instruction goes on with a substitute teacher there. But, this pissed my mom off and she was a bitchy sub to the rest of the class for it. My guilt quota is pretty full so I’m going to have to write that one off. Sorry 5th period math, my bad!

But, here I am having to call the school and disrupt my daughter’s day because it would cause her far too much stress to sit through a class with my mother in charge and I think it’s safe to say we have no idea what that woman is capable of.

I got that fire put out and my son’s counselor called. Some of his teachers have sent emails to her mentioning his absences. He’s missed a few days since school has returned to session from Christmas break. The problem being post-traumatic stress (from the week stay in the hospital and gee, cancer) and he is still a bit sensitive and his stomach gets upset easily. My understanding is that it can take a few months post-surgery to really feel “normal” again. Coincidentally, he was home yesterday throwing up most of the morning.

The counselor went on to tell me that his grades last semester were largely due to teachers being “generous” which, pissed me off because my son completed ass loads of make up work, made up final exams, papers, etc. So, perhaps a portion of his grades might be due to “generosity” but let’s not take all the credit away from the kid when he went through two surgeries less than 30 days apart and still managed to bust out all the make up work they threw his direction. She asked if we wanted to put him on home study. I explained that it would really be bad for him as he was trying, incredibly hard, probably too hard, to just be NORMAL again. Her attitude was rather bland and she sounded less than concerned or sincere, to be perfectly honest. When people talk about “phoning in” performances I think this is exactly what they are talking about.

I got off the phone and had a bit of a melt down complete with a lot of tears. Between the family bullshit which is constantly popping up in my face in one form or another and dealing with the aftermath of everything we have been through over the past several months, it feels like I take two steps forward and get thrown back four!

I just want my life back!

Instead I have kids who have endured so much stress that my son has nightmares and bouts of puking his brains out, my daughter is convinced she has an ulcer. She worries so much about her brother, the family garbage, etc. that it sends her stomach on a roller coaster. Then there is me, moving quickly so that the demon (aka depression) doesn’t catch up to me. The problem is that I’m starting to get really tired and out of breath from trying to outrun that son of a bitch.

And, all of this is on top of the usual stresses of bills, business, oh and the bankruptcy we are filing.

I just want my life back…

S.O. is being amazingly understanding and incredibly supportive. I don’t know what I would do without him. But, all of this wears on him as well. After all, he has the family garbage two-fold with my mother’s other boyfriend being his boss.

Rock meet hard place.

We’ve decided to make major strides in improving our diet, the family’s diet, entirely. Lots more fresh veggies, fish, etc. While we need to lose weight, it’s not the primary goal here, I just keep thinking that if I really focus on nourishing my kids with good stuff that it will help them combat the stress and all the physical discomfort coming along with it.

The weather has been less than cooperative in terms of getting out and being active outdoors, but that is the next step. Fishing, hiking, etc. We don’t sit on the bank and fish, we use spinners and lures which require a lot more motion and movement. Yoga… definitely. Meditation, etc.

Tiny changes… baby steps… eat the elephant one bite at a time.

I just want my life back.

My cousin came by yesterday. She mentioned she had received a letter from her father. A handwritten letter detailing everything she had done to hurt or disappoint him since she was 12 or 13 years old. From her desire to stay at my grandparents home after he and my grandfather were in a physical fight on the front porch shortly after my grandmother died, something he considered the height of “disloyalty” to her decision to have her son baptized because he doesn’t agree with baptizing children/babies. I’m sure along the line somewhere he listed her divorce from her first husband as well.

The man is sick and twisted beyond belief. The stories I recall hearing as a child horrified me. My grandfather walked in on my uncle beating his wife (my cousin’s mother) with a belt. My other uncle raped her (my cousin’s mother), sexually assaulted my mother throughout her late childhood and early teen years, and attempted to molest my cousin.

Most of this I didn’t find out until my early twenties. Imagine my horror when I realized that my mother sent us (my sister and I) down to L.A. to stay for a week or so with my aunt and uncle (the rapist); I don’t know if she thought he wouldn’t be interested in us, if my aunt would protect us, or what. All I do know is that as a mother not for an instant would I consider ever putting my children in that type of situation.

My cousin’s father? Doesn’t believe any of this and on his long list of grievances he included my cousin having a relationship with my mother as not being loyal to him. My other uncle actually called her to berate her for believing my mother’s story. Apparently, he had forgotten about his inappropriate behavior with her.

The level of denial in my mother’s family is unfathomable and disgusting. The rampant abuse and sadistic behavior is nearly unbelievable. The parents my mother and uncles knew were not the grandparents I knew and grew up with. It’s a challenge to reconcile loving grandparents with knowledge that when they found out about my uncle, my grandfather beat the hell out of him (as he did all the boys, he had a very, very short fuse) and my mother was spanked/beaten whatever while my grandmother assured her that if she told anyone the police would come and take her away and they would never see her again.

Years later, shortly before her death, my grandmother apologized to my mother for the way they handled the situation. It is impossible to view my mother’s recent actions and behavior (and the multitudes of odd behavior prior to all of this) without considering the level of abuse the woman was born into and raised in.

The letter my uncle sent my cousin was the final letter. It detailed all of her “crimes” and ended with him declaring their relationship over, permanently. He has written off his only grandchild in the process. Which is probably for the best considering that he believes him (the grandchild) to be more of a sissy than autistic and in dire need of some “toughening up.”

I think my cousin views some of the things that have gone on between my mother and I differently now.  I didn’t see the wall there that I had seen clearly the other day. I didn’t get the same feeling from her, she was open, hurting, and seemed to regret something she left unspoken which was fine.

She seems most angered by her father accusing her of not being loyal. As she pointed out, he has never shown loyalty to her or her brother, the children from his first marriage. He regularly beat their mother, drove her into a mental institution at one point, and took them away from her for years. He married another woman, much younger, who had a great deal of animosity toward his children, he didn’t care, he knew and he didn’t care. She was cold and borderline vicious to my cousins, had two children of her own and proceeded to allow them to run rampant and have their way with whatever they chose (including allowing them to destroy their older, half-siblings’ belongings) and at the top of the vicious pyramid was my self-righteous, sanctimonious, piece of shit, abusive uncle who paraded the two younger children around as if they were prize sired race horses.

I cannot begin to fully express the level disgust and rage I have for this man.

I told my cousin that the letter from him did her a huge favor. She would not have been able to live with herself for cutting ties to him. Now she can walk away with a free conscience. She’s not now, nor has she ever been strong enough to do what I have done with my mother; not answering phone calls or responding to emails. She’s angry, hurt, and frustrated. She wants to understand why her father would do this to her. I’m different, I don’t care WHY, I just believe, firmly, that he should PAY in the most painful way possible for as long as possible. Retribution, swift, severe, and without mercy.

Now more than ever I feel that way because I didn’t see the wall. I saw a very hurt, abandoned child in my cousin’s eyes. Bewildered, helpless, undefended, uncared for, unprotected. It enrages me. It makes me want to find my uncle, take him off somewhere where no one can hear him, and hook him up to a car battery until he begs for forgiveness. That’s the dark side of me, the one who wants desperately to avenge the wrongs and provide the retribution that his victims, his children so badly deserve.

And my mother?

She’s damaged goods. She’s so damaged that she has to pretend to do the right thing, pretend to say the right thing, pretend to feel the right thing. Then she ruins it all with lies and fear. She has never made peace with her past, her parents, her life. She probably never will.

I’m gaining sympathy for her. My goal is forgiveness. To forgive, not forget. Things will never be the same between us and I have no hope for something better. There is a poison that runs through that family and I believe now that in order to have any sense of harmony or peace that I have to distance myself and my children from it.

I hurt for the damage done, the acts of unspeakable cruelty that I can’t make right, the helpless children that were left unprotected and later blamed for something beyond their control. I’m disgusted by family secrets that I did not ask to be part of. And, I’ve come to realize that I’m just me, a woman who has to deal with this, put it in its’ own emotional compartment, and get on with my life.

It’s just going to take more than a few showers to get rid of this horrible dirty feeling that I have right now.