Secrets...

  It's official, I am a hot mess. I think I may get used to it, but I'm not liking it right now. At all! I am the oldest of three children. I was the one that moved out, & did (have done) my very best to never move back in. There was a very brief stay with my father that did not go, nor end well. And two different tries with my mom, she's great most of the time, but we CANNOT live in the same house. So, I have always tried to be self-sufficient pay my own bills, buy my own vehicles, blah, blah, blah... Totally not working here lately ):
  My life has never had a "plan". I never said I would be married by age _, have _ kids by age _... You get the idea. In fact, I was the daughter that makes mom's everywhere cringe. I wasn't going to have a husband. I did not ever play with dolls and say this one has the same name that my devil child will have one day, there were no children. 
I dare someone to ever tell me life does not have a sense of humor. I do in fact have a husband, that I am doing a very poor job (according to my MIL) of being a wife to. And kids, yep those too. The only part of this that has been 100% intentional is the husband. I really married my very best friend, & we are on a swift path to self destruction, but I'm not fluid enough in my thoughts on that t write about it yet. So I will tell you secrets that not many people who have met me face to face know, about kids..
  I have given birth three times. And have one Chewie to show for my efforts. Before you feel badly, let me tell it all so you can decide to shoot me, or empathize/symphathize with me.. It may be a hard call, & I'm ok with that, I hope. I can say this, at least I didn't have girls.
  So here's the roll call, & a brief story of each boy. And a explanation (?) of why I worry over whether or not I'm doing a good job. Number 1 is going to be 16 next summer. His dad, & I were all bad from the beginning, if it weren't for number one we wouldn't have been together as long as we were. When we told his parents, his mother didn't take one second to allow it to sink in before she was getting her address book out to call their preacher. I will never forget the look on her face when I said, "We said I am pregnant, not we are engaged". That moment is when she decided to make my life hell for as long as she was in it. The second time I got her to make the same face was when I threatened her in front of 7 police officers, I believe I said, "I will bounce your fat ass all the way through this house, out the fecking back door, beat you over your red head with a shovel, & bury you in your own yard if you do not bring me my son now!". Yep, that's what I said. And all the police said was be careful how you talk to her in front of us, she went to high school with the Chief". The warning was heard, loud, & clear, next time I said something nasty (there were lots of next times) I made sure no law enforcement was within ear shot. To skip most of the stupid shit, that relationship obviously went worse fast. We split, custody sharing went well. Initially. Then after I had put out her child, we still would run into one another at clubs on occasion (I was only 22, that's what 22 year old people used to do, go to clubs), & once I felt badly for him, & let him sleep on my couch. Apparently, my bed strongly resembled my couch, & no sounded a fuck of a lot like yes. During our very nasty two and a half year custody battle I was secretly pregnant. So secretly, only myself (Chewie's bio-dad), & my mother knew about it, my Godmother was told later so she could help me as well. Then came number 2.
  Number two is gorgeous, also.. I make great looking boys, too bad they try to kill me, literally. Number one caused a small abrupt ion, the doc's said "No big deal, first baby, this can happen". I also need to add here that I begged for a tubal, like I had since the age of 16 after the birth of Number 1. The whole word said (except my mom), "You can't be sure that's what you want", despite the fact that I bawled like hell when they wouldn't give me one. Back to Number 2. My beautiful, healthy, content boy also tried to kill me. The excuse this time was that I was so small (pregnant lady-wise) that things like that should be expected. Number 2 was adopted by a wonderful family whose entire family is filled with adopted children (nieces, nephews, everyone). And they (at the time) raised Rotties. They gave him everything he would not have had with me, & Number 1 asshole. They are my heroes, & I am forever grateful to them. He is going to be 14 next year.
  And now there are three. Number 3, is my number one. Chewie.. This child is disrespectful, rude, does not listen to a fecking thing that comes out of my mouth, but he is mine. His dad may leave me, his bio-dad left everyone. But until the day some female welcomes him into her home, he is mine. I may fuck him up real bad before I give him away, but isn't that what parents do?
  

My Second Award!!!

I have two awards, I can't tell all of you how cool I think this is. My second award is also from Miz Tink over at rantingsofamouthybitch.blogspot.com it was given July 13, 2012. It is being accepted July 25, 2012, due to the crazy happening in my life.
                                              
                                                   
I truly enjoy Miz Tink's blog, & am stunned that she thinks of mine well enough to offer me this award. As with any award there are rules to accompany it's acceptance. The rules are as follows:
1. Include award logo in your post, or on your blog page.. Which I did, right up there!
2. Answer ten (10) questions about yourself.
3. Nominate 10-12 other fabulous bloggers (wow, this means Miz Tink thinks me fabulous :) 
4. Link your nominees to the post, & comment on their blog, letting them know about the      
    award.
5. Share the love and link to the person that nominated you (done as well, up top)


So here is the Q&A part of this super cool award:

1. What would you most like to change about yourself?
    God's honest truth, nothing.. I am who I am.. I have been through a lot to get here, & 
    if I change anything, it would change everything.


2. What's your theme song?
    There are so many I could choose, but at this point in time it is My Bitch Bad by
     Ludacris


3. One part of your life, an action, memory, etc. that you wish you could surgically
    remove from your brain?
    The suicide of Chewie's biological father. It haunted me for years, it's turned into a 
    weapon for some at times, & a black hole I've fallen into on more than one occasion.


4. What generation do you wish you had been a part of?
    I'm best off in the one I'm in. I don't do demure, I don't bow down to men 
    automatically. However I would have loved to be a part of the Native American
    culture of the past.


5. What was your favorite childhood toy?
     My Golden Retriever that was given to me on my second birthday. She was my very 
     best friend in the world, & she started my lifelong love affair with dogs. I miss her 
     still. Chewie has a Golden Retriever at his Nana's, & I think she is my dog re-incarnated
     it's her eyes.


6. What is your favorite house cleaning chore?
     I would have to say dusting. I like to go over my stuff with a cloth, or duster, and see
     how much care was put into making it, & how I can make it look beautiful a little bit
     longer.


7. Do you use Twitter?
    Finally an easy one. No, I do not.


8. Any goals?
    I have several. I intend to do whatever it takes to remain married to my husband, 
    happily. If not, I will live alone still married, I do not want to be without him, or be
    divorced. I want to have a small bit of property with many horses to train, & rescue
    American Pit Bull Terriers long into old age.


9. Do you really drink Margarita's all the time?
    Not just no, but hell no. I stick to the occasional import beer. Tequila was a buddy 
    of mine when I was younger, but it tends to bring the mean out, FAST. I will sip one,
    slow, but not all the time.


10. What is the ugliest car you've ever driven and were embarrassed to be seen in? 
    I have to be honest, I never had a vehicle bought for me, so any one I owned I paid for
    so I was never embarrassed to be seen in any car. Just grateful that I didn't have to 
    hoof it, lol.


And now we are at the fun part, where I get to share some of my favorite blogs. I read a lot, I always have.. It's my escape from reality, that causes no harm to anyone, including myself.


1. I Want a Dumpster Baby, I adore Katy. She is everything I hope to be when I finally grow up. She has been through it, & still finds the sunshine in every day! And she, & Chris are pregnant, & it's wonderful.


2. Diary of a Mad Woman, I have experienced the loss of someone close to me due to suicide, but I was not as amazingly honest about it. She inspires me to do better every day. For Chewie, HNIC, & myself.


3.That's Mrs. Brady to You!! This chick is awesome. She's been through some serious shit, & is starting on another journey. Her kids are amazing, because she is amazing, & I dig her!


4.Holdin' Holden This chick has a book, a blog, a hubs, & two boys! She definitely was one of the inspirations for me trying my hand at blogging. 


5.You Know it Happens at Your House Too And we all know this.. But how many of us are brave enough to tell it to the world like this chick ;) ~


6.Rantings of a Mouthy Bitch My nominator, is also one of my favorite reads. She has a wicked sense of humor, & doesn't pull any punches.


7.I Could Have Been Mother of the Year If... I'm waiting for her to become Mother of the Year, so I can say I "knew" her back when.. Cause we all need people who remember our climb up


8. I Am A Bitch and Proud of It She, & I got brave about the same time as far as jumping into the blogging world.. She's got family down, it's all for the kids :)


9.My Husband Ate All My Ice Cream Well mine eats all my desserts of any type.. I'm hoping that if I continue to follow her, she will share with us all a solution to this problem. And she's hysterical!


10.The Klonopin Chronicles I just love her, that's all.
     

Holy Crap!! I Have Been Given Awards!!

        I have been honored with an award from a fellow blogger, I am so excited!This award was     bestowed upon me July 12, 2012, & due to my fun times with Paxil with-drawls, I hadn't had the brain power to accept it until today. So my official acceptance date for my very first award is today, July 24, 2012 <3 This is better than someone I know personally stumbling onto my blog   (God forbid, & Peter bar the gates), & saying they enjoy it. Which I swear they wouldn't, haha. 

I was thrilled that someone else had taken the time to read my blog, & enjoy it enough to share an award with me! That person is Miz Tink at Rantingsofamoutybitch.blogspot.com. She is fabulous, & obviously quite generous, she did share this with me :) I can't say thank you enough Miz Tink, really.While this is my very first award, there are a few rules I need to follow, after being given this honor. They are :

1. Choose 5 up and coming bogs to pass the Liebster Award on to. The blogs must each       have less than 200 followers. I will list them at the end, so they can find their names           easily, & you readers can as well.  

  2. Show your thanks and appreciation to the blogger that gave you the award by linking       back to them. Again, I can't express my thanks enough to Miz Tink for sharing honoring me  with this award.

 3. Share 5 random facts about yourself.

    1. I am a surfer, deep down in my soul, I am a water baby. I truly believe if I could live   

        near the ocean I would never need medication again (possibly because I could just          

        drown all the assholes during my morning swim, don't worry I may be kidding ;)         

    2. I never wanted to be a mom. I wanted dogs, horses, & surfboards. Chewie is my gift, 

        and I am a "cool" mom. We don't hide shit here in Casa de Crazy from the

        inhabitants, & probably show to much to the non-residents a lot.

    3. I was once that girl. By that girl I mean I could get what was wanted, & made a great 

        deal of money that I promptly blew on bullshit, all the while watching my back to be 

        sure I was about to get robbed, shot, or harmed (being a female in an all male game0 

    4. I would happily be an only child. Pretend (my sister), & Missing (my brother) took

        a page from our Pop's book, & chose not to recognize my birthday this year. They

        are allowed this rudeness because they have no children, I have Chewie so must be

        the "bigger person", & be sure they get a call on their's (maybe from Chewie only

        this year).

    5. My desire for acceptance from other relatives outside of our home is non-existent. I

        really don't care, seriously! The bigotry, close minded views, & general bullshit that

        surrounds their every action makes me proud to be the outcast. We like it here.

 4. Post the award to your blog. With this post that will be accomplished!

      Now, I have to chose 5 of my favorite bloggers who are little like me.

      In absolutely no order at all, I would like to  give the Liebster blog honor to:

  daddyknowsless.blogspot.com, he, & Peanut have fabulous adventures even when they

  are just retrieving The Director from the station after work.

  thebradybunchoncrack.blogspot.com I met her on our Facebook pages, & I dearly love

  her blog as well, she's wide open just like me :)

  youmydearareanasshat.blogspot.com is another friend from my Facebook community, I

  adore her, she is the type of grown up I hope to be one day.

  icouldhavebeenmotheroftheyearif.blogspot.com a total riot, I love her outlook on life!

  nonstopmom.blogspot.com probably has more than the recommended number of

  followers, but I do want her to have this as well.

  I have to switch laundry now, & try to be up for a few minutes. But my sweet

  Miz Tink, has bestowed two awards on me, so I will collect, & post the second in just

  bit.

  

Deal with it...

Deal with it. If I thought I could I wouldn't be ignoring avoiding my Facebook page, with all the wonderful friends I've found there. I wouldn't be listening to people tear me down while I'm fairly certain I can't get any lower. It is only getting worse, each second, all day.

This is what I have decided the monster in my head looks like. It's devouring everything, my thoughts, my emotions (which are returned in a most confusing, & overblown fashion), but it has eaten every drop of my sanity. I must be fair to this monster that has taken up residence in my mind however, by saying it's had help in the form of NO Paxil. When I was diagnosed with all the cute stuff they said must be wrong with me to begin with I refused to be put on Paxil, I had first hand experience of the suicidal tendencies success rate of others who had been on it. It scared the ever loving fuck out of me! I never should have relented on that position.

So a "Doctor" (the quotes are intentional, I'm going to explain now) upon finally understanding that I was not going to bend on this, said why don't I prescribe Prozac at a very low dosage & see how that works. I am not a Doctor, PA, Nurse, or Pharmacist, at all, so I agreed to try the Prozac. My panic attacks were unrelenting, my concentration was   non-existent, & my job was in jeopardy, so I had to do something. The "doctor" did say it would take a few days for the meds to work into my system, & to give them time. I did. Then I learned how it must feel to live in a bubble, that's firmly anchored to the ocean floor! I have never found a sensible way to describe it to anyone. The best I do to give anyone a clue to how I felt is this: It was like being in a constant state of dreaming, nothing felt real at all, & it was as if every thing had an aura about it, a fuzziness if you will. So after two weeks of waking to a zombie like state, I had enough. I gave in and began taking an incredibly low dose of a drug I was terrified of. That was almost six years ago. Well, I also had kick-ass health insurance, shitty doc, but great insurance. 

Then the insurance went the way of the dinosaur, along with the job (which I hated anyway). So I found a new more affordable Doc, but in order to get my refills I had to go in for a office visit robbery every three months. If I cannot afford an office visit, I get no meds. Which brings me to where l am now.

                                                                            

I am disappearing, and it's so very scary. I have learned that Paxil is in the same family of drugs as the Prozac I hated so much. Not only that, but that it is more difficult, and dangerous to stop taking Paxil. I have 

not wanted so badly to punch a grown, educated woman in the face as I do now. Someone should have explained to me that I couldn't do this. Stop this medication. Ever. No one did. I have had nightmares like I did when I was alone after some horrible things happened in my life in the last few days, maybe more. I wake up soaked in sweat, like someone dumped a bucket of water on me as I slept. My son is having to learn a whole new variety of fucked up, by having him mom tell him, "Today is a bad day, please be easy". I shouldn't have to say things like this. I shouldn't feel this way. I should be excited about how my interview went today for a new job. I should be overjoyed that my Lito is better, & himself again, & I am. For very selfish reasons. He is tuned into my feelings like no other dog I own, it's lovely to have him to comfort me, & I am grateful. 

I should also be grateful that I have a direction for what has been the randomness of my blog. I will do my best to chronicle my journey through my own hell, while I try to remember me, & not get swept away by the undertow. Maybe I can help someone else who is dealing with this, & hopefully you guys can help me as well. I have to work tomorrow, I hope I don't space at the wrong times, & make it through the day. I'll let you know how it goes. ~ HBIC          

                                                                                         

                                                                                         

How I Learned to Fake It for Holiday's

                                                   
    By now most of you know my family is fucked up. Not just your every day, "That happened to me too" fucked up, but the "That never happened to you" fucked up. It's that bad, & has always been, I just learned to fake it. My parents divorce was probably one of the most wonderful things they did for us when we were little, hands down! I am grateful for it every day, honestly, because I cannot imagine having them in the same home. Ever.
    So I have become a master bullshitter during all occasions that require family gatherings. I have had to go to weddings, birthdays, & all manner of holiday get together time, knowing two things. One, everyone there wishes I weren't so they could talk about me. And, two, everyone there hates one of my parents. In fairness, they aren't my favorite people, but I do not let anyone outside of my home speak ill of my mom. Yes, she has serious issues, & is a GIANT bitch, but she raised me, & sacrificed for me, so I hold exclusive rights on talking shit about her. And I do not give ammunition to others who have no good reason to be around her at all. My father is a whole different ballgame.
   My father is not an only child, so he had built in defenders growing up, & to this day. My father who I did indeed have several fist fights with from the age of 13 to 23. People witnessed this (more than once), but will look me in my eyes, & call me a liar over it. I'm OK with that, but Chewie rarely got spanked when he was little, do you wonder why? So Father's Day is kind of a fake holiday where my celebrating it is concerned. However, HNIC is a great Dad, so we do celebrate it here in Casa de Crazy.
   My stomach hurts on every major holiday, as if I could puke at any moment. But I never do (that's another post I'm sure will come), but I love my Xanax (thanks Doc) because without it I wouldn't survive 5 minutes. Not only do I have to go smile, hug, & nod in the proper places with my Dad, but also with my "pretend" sister, & "missing" brother (who is a Dad now as well). And none of us like the other, but we'll all go fake it. It's what we do, what we've always done.
  One day, I will be far enough away that we can use distance as our reason not to show.. Or (please God not anytime soon) my paternal grandparents will be gone, & everyone can stop faking it for their sake, but they already know. When their time comes, some family members may finally come out, some will tell others how they really feel, & my stomach won't be auditioning for the  flying trapeze circus act any more.

Am I crazy?

Wow, if I could remember this quote I would not wind up in the place I always find myself. Let's see... I got into fist fights with my father, regularly. My son's biodad, & I had the world's most disfunctional relationship ever, & now my husband hates me.
Ok, maybe that's a little dramatic.. My MIL hates me, & encourages him to act like an asshole. If my feelings get hurt, I'm greedy, & selfish. If my house isn't spotless, I do nothing.  I feel like I'm on the most frightening roller coaster ever, & can't get off, without ruining everyone else's ride.
My son's dad is my husband, his bio-dad was never healthy enough to be a dad. But how I love my son. So much so, that I would suffer the rest of my life for his heart to never break again. I lived my life from 13 until 23 trying to fix shit for my mother, & it's still broken. I will not let my little man carry this responsibility, it isn't fair to any child. But I don't know yet how to make sure he doesn't carry this burden on himself.
But, I am tired. I am tired of wondering wh0 my husband will be when I wake up in the morning. I am tired of having to protect myself from pain. I am tired of being let down, & left out.
Maybe I am crazy.
~ HBIC

Wasting Time..

seems to be a lifestyle rather than a brief moment in the day for me. There are millions of seconds, minutes, shit let me be honest, years that have brought me to this conclusion. Again. Story of my life, wasting time.

There was no side for me when my parents divorced. I saw a need within my mom to have us with her, & a rage within my dad. There were three of us, my pretend sister, my gone brother, & me the oldest. The HBIC. I ran shit. Then my gone brother left. A couple of years later the middle child, my pretend sister left. I took care of them, & they left me to take care of Her.
I tried. She needed me to change. To like a different kind of guy. One maybe with a trust fund, that wore ties. To not love tattoos, bad dogs, rock clubs & beer. To be her normal child, but I'm not. And I leave.

Eight years wasted.
Then there was the tragedy tragedies. So many they all blend together, a collage of wasted time. Rescuing the unsavable, losing touch. Another 5, or so, years of wasted time.

These last few years have been spent rebuilding, & adding on. I will not let them be more wasted time.

~HBIC