Never was a Cornflake Girl…

Ok, so I reckon the wordpress blog is back up and running.  Ugh, I hate switching blogs.

First, I’m keeping two different journals now.  One is my personal journal and one is the journal my therapist is making me keep, my “recovery journal” which sounds totally cheesy but in fact is pretty hardcore.  I would have you all read my “real” journal before I’d select one of you to peek at my “recovery” journal.  I have to write about really painful things in there, things I don’t want to think about much less write about.  But hey, that’s EXACTLY why I’ve gone so many years and not gone to therapy – not because I thought I didn’t need it, but because I knew it would be WORK, it’d be hard work.  I know it will be worth it but until then, the pain the pain the pain.

So Marie left myspace.  I don’t understand what is up with the privacy settings; I use the new module thing, and I set all mine to private… but Michael tells me she can’t for some reason?  Either way, a myspace blog sans Marie is just not the same.  When I first came over to wordpress I caught a backlash from all my regular readers except for Marie and Amanda.  Now Michael hates myspace and everyone seems to be leaving, so okay, back to wordpress.  I can wordpress from work anyway.  The only thing I don’t like is that I always seem to THEME my wordpress blog, and when I tire of that theme I leave the blog.  So marital problems/divorce were the theme of this blog, and I hate that.  My myspace blog seems more REAL diary, plus I can lock it down to preferred list when necessary.  This is trickier.

I have several blogs stored up, things I want out there.   Amanda asked about my diagnosis and I will expound upon that later.  I also want to blog my resolutions.  I’m at work now, but another counselor has come in and I want to leave.  I like being alone at work.  I keep the lobby dark and I play music and sing while I work, talk to myself like I’m am completely and totally insane.  Lorrie is the counselor who came in.  She’s new this semester and I like her best out of the rest, but she’s still older than me.  I wish there were more people like me around here.  Anyway, she scares the shit out of me when she gets here.  See, I was going to play some music on the computer, I went to (the latest music streaming site I’m using at work since they have now blocked pandora and rhapsody, assholes), and I realize I took my speakers home for Jade over xmas.  Oh I was pissed, but I had the mp3 player.  I briefly considered “what if someone sneaks up on me?” but I can’t work without music, so an hour later I’m in here singing along with Jewel “cute boys with crew cuts and … day glow surf boooooooooooards!!!” and I get up to get some more paper out of the lobby copier and scream!!  Lorrie is right there and she scared the ever livin shit outta me.  She says, “I’ve tried to talk to you a couple times, but you were singin’…” LOL.  Hey, it could have been worse.  Once in the middle of the day Jeremy walked in with the entire FIC crew with him and I was cooking and jamming to some Regina Spektor, actually attempting the Russian part of “Apres Moi”.  You should have seen the look on Tommy’s face, almost like he was scared of me.  😛

So, as much as I love Lorrie and as much work as I need to finish, I just can’t work the same if there are people around.  I need to work out but don’t know if I want to go to the gym or M&M’s to the treadmill.  It’s so beautiful outside it’s a shame not to be in the sun working out, but SHIT it is cold, I hate it!!!!  I put some powder and eyeliner on, and nipple nibblers on the lips (a sex thing made for nipples, I put it on my lips and it has the same effect… makes the blood rush to the surface and tingle, so the lips plump and get red – gimme your address if you want me to mail you some I have plenty left over from the summer I sold it), and Jeremy asked me when I left why I looked so pretty to go to work.  It was so nice, the way he looked at me, because before that all I could see in the mirror was the dreaded uniboob … I hate the way sports bras make my chest look, like the breasts are not separated enough so everything up there is just one big lump, ugh!  So it felt nice and I said, “Awwww, you think I’m pretty?” and he says, “Yes, I do.  And I think you do too.”

“I do now.”



I want to write lately but just can’t seem to make myself.  In two weeks I’ll be moved out.  I feel lonely but oh well, that’s all just part of it.  It’s scary but staying is scarier.  This song is fitting:

A Better Wife
Erin McKeown

i’m just something else he tried
a catalogue of interests in a catalogue of lives
i hid myself from him, i wouldn’t say it was a lie
but hiding worked its way into the way we lived our lives

it was clear that he was troubled
he had trouble with his pride
but i could never tell if the fault was his or mine
so i drew myself away, i wouldn’t say i left behind
a man who would never know the man he was inside

in a moment he was gone, i could see that he had died
by the quickening of blood and the fluttering of eyes
so i held him to my breast like all the better wives
who furnish men with love and never leave their side

i’m just something else he tried
the salt that’s left behind after tears have dried
and I suppose that i’ll go on, after all it was my life
and all that i supposed i held has come to be untied 

I started two different blogs earlier.  First, I have a lot to say about Sarah Palin.  As a woman, as a voter, as an American, an intellectual… there is just a lot to say.  I will try to have that done by the end of the weekend, but for now I just have so much more on my mind.

So I started another one, about being burned, losing a friend (no one any of you know, an old friend, I’ll explain later).  But I didn’t want to post another rant.

So I got to thinking, about how in the very near future I’m going to be pretty vulnerable and I’m going to need to learn how to protect myself from the people who will prey on that.  A certain poem started running through my mind while talking to a man tonight.  Not just any poem… since about 1998, if you asked me what my favorite poem of all time is, I would give you this one answer.  I need to repeat it again and again to myself in the upcoming months.  I hope it might be helpful to some of you as well:

Never Offer Your Heart to Someone Who Eats Hearts

by Alice Walker 

Never offer your heart 
to someone who eats hearts 
who finds heartmeat 
but not rare 
who sucks the juices 
drop by drop 
and bloody-chinned 
like a God. 

Never offer your heart 
to a heart gravy lover. 
Your stewed, overseasoned 
heart consumed 
he will sop up your grief 
with bread 
and send it shuttling 
from side to side 
in his mouth 
like bubblegum. 

If you find yourself 
in love 
with a person 
who eats hearts 
these things 
you must do. 

Freeze your heart 
Let him—next time 
he examines your chest— 
find your heart cold 
flinty and unappetizing. 

Refrain from kissing 
lest he in revenge 
dampen the spark 
in your soul. 

sail away to Africa 
where holy women 
await you 
on the shore— 
long having practiced the art 
of replacing hearts 
with God and Song.

This week has been quite a rollercoaster of emotions, obviously.  Never once has my mind changed or have I started to become unsure that I’m doing the right thing.

But I’ve taken some blows, that’s for sure.  My parents said they supported me, they wanted me to leave if that’s what I wanted to do, etc.  That was earlier in the week.  After coming up and visiting for a night, all of a sudden they both think I’m being selfish and not putting my kids first.  They think I should use the breathalyzer on Jeremy every day when he gets home and if he’s been drinking, he has to go stay somewhere else.  Thats’ supposed to keep him sober, and then we should be able to make it.  Right??  What is so wrong with that?

Well I don’t think that sounds healthy at all.  I think it’s pretty sick and I don’t want to make it work even if he DOES stay sober, I want out.  I don’t think that is unreasonable, given what I’ve been through.  I don’t think I’m fucking the kids up.  I think our marriage is less important to my kids than our relationship.  I think we’ll have a better, stronger, healthier relationship if we don’t have to live together and be married.  And the kids will see that, and they’ll be happier too.

Maybe I’m wrong, but I think I’m more qualified to decide what’s best for my kids than anyone else.  It does hurt to go forward without their support though.

Anyway, I woke up, cried, got sick, got mad, cried… and decided to follow up on that lead on the rental in Eudora.  Jesus H. Christ, that was the nastiest, filthiest place I could imagine living.  I told the man it wouldn’t work and explained what I was looking for.  He gave me (shitty) directions to another property he rented that might be more suitable.  After getting M&M to direct me out to this place out in the middle of NOWHERE, I wound up being disappointed – and a little more than insulted that he thought for one second I would live in something like that.  Ugh…

I had given up.  Distraught and defeated, I drove to Michael’s and got a pep talk that convinced me to make just one more phone call for today.  I mean, I gotta keep pressing on.  The only other option is to accept defeat and stay in my disfunctional marriage (and sadly that was looking like an option).

The phone call was pure kismit.  The lady who answered told me her house was rented already, but that her cousin had a place that would be perfect for me.  She described the absolute perfect situation for me and the kids, but it was in Hernando and the price was way too steep.  But we talked anyway.  The woman and I shared the same hairdresser, her cousin works with one of my bffs, her kids graduated from the high school where I work.  So even though I told her I could never afford it, she told me to call her cousin anyway.  I didn’t, and a few minutes later my phone rang.  She had spoken to her cousin and they want to meet me and negotiate a price on the rent.  So I’m supposed to meet them and see the place Monday!

I still don’t know if I’ll be able to afford it, but I’m sure going to crunch some numbers between now and then.  It’s a great location, perfect size, covered porches, yard, three bedrooms.  The lady’s niece lives next door and has kids Jade and Nate’s ages.  And it’s just a couple miles from where my bffs are thinking of moving.  All of it just seems like fate.

So I’ve come a long way from this morning and I’m feeling better.  I’m still scared and it’s still hard.  Now it’s even more terrifying and harder, knowing that I’m doing this without my parents’ help or support.  But I know that I have yall’s support and I appreciate that!!  Without that, I honestly don’t know if I would still be alive and breathing this afternoon, I’m serious.

And a special thank you to all of you who have emailed me your own personal stories.  You’ve made me feel like I’m not alone in this, and you’ve inspired me.  I think to myself that if you could do it, maybe I can do it too.  So I’m still going through with everything and I hope everyone is behind me on this.

I think you’ll be hard pressed to find another city in which every single person knows the address of the jail.

I was going to blog and tell you all my exciting, wonderful news.  That was when I was pretty much feeling great.  Not that I feel bad now, or something has gone wrong, because it hasn’t.  I’m just exhausted so I can’t muster up the energy to feel as ecstatic as I did last night.

I have gotten about 6 or 7 hours of sleep in the past 72 hours.  I know, I know.  It’s just been crazy, you know that.

And it’s been pretty freaking Memphis, too.

What I mean by that statement is that I cannot BELIEVE I have survived this work week, doing the job I do, when it just seems everything is happening at one time.  I have left a lot of it out of the previous blogs for the sake of brevity.  Yes, I said brevity… I honestly could have written blogs 10 times that long.  You know how I told Misty I felt an impending sense of doom?  In addition to my own troubles that you are well aware of, these are other things that have happened in the past four days:

One of my students shot and killed another kid.  That’s how my week started.  It happened a few hours after my “doom” statement.  I haven’t talked about it yet because honestly, I’ve had to talk with a few students about the incident and it was hard enough to focus on all of it then, given everything else that’s going on with me lately.  I haven’t even read the article, but you are welcome to if you wish.

Wednesday I leave work and pull in to the gas station near my apartment to get the kids a snack for the road – I was going to ride around and check out some rental property.  The cops swarm the car wash that is part of the gas station.  I’m pumping gas, talking to the old man in the pickup beside me, asking what happened.  He grumbles about hearing gunshots and I said, in true country fashion, “Naaaw…”  Oh he got all worked up then about how Horn Lake/Southaven was just like Memphis now, and blah blah blah…

I knew something big had gone down, though, because there were weird ass cop cars flying up, like unmarked cars and cop trucks and shit I’d never seen.  Whoa, the SPD out to kick some arse.  I asked Jaden what she thought could be going on.  “Probably someone drinking or smoking,” she offered, bored stiff, “can I get my bug juice now?”  It was just a wee bit disturbing that my kids aren’t phased by cop cars anymore.  I guess that’s the city anywhere though.  At least she didn’t ask for jungle juice.  The incident wound up being a random shooting with no announced suspects or motive.  It was just a kid who came up to the carwash, shot at someone washing their car, and then took off back to his assumed home at (wait for it, Michael, wait for it…) the Civic Center Apartments!

Last night, right up the road yet again, a 32 year old woman was shot to death in front of her two young children.

I’ve had to see kids, I have to help them.  I’ve had serious shit that couldn’t be ignored or put off – besides the murders.  I have DHS up here now seeing a child that I called them about 22 minutes ago.  If you have ever had to deal with DHS you’ll know that is RECORD TIME.  They have 72 hours to respond to my call, and they usually take at least 48.  I won’t go into the details, but the response time should indicate the severity of it all.  And that parent I told you was so nasty and hateful to me when she came to enroll her child?  The only parent I have bitched about so far this year?  Kid came to me with extension cord marks on her legs and fingernail marks dug into her neck this week.  Lovely.  I don’t get the extension cord thing, I have seen more of that than I ever want to.

It has been hard!!  Marie, you know what I’m talking about!  Sometimes it’s so difficult to even hear the words coming out of their mouths, let alone feel that you’ve helped.

Just one more whine: when I left the gas station Tuesday and rode into Memphis, I wanted to go up on Vance Street.  I don’t normally go there (though I did note the Thai restaurant on Poplar everyone tells me to try, and I will definitely do that!), but it’s become second nature to take 240 to Lamar to Central to get to midtown – takes me maybe 15 minutes tops from my parking spot at the apartment, so sometimes I’ll drive up just for coffee and to be alone.  Anyway, since I’m going to Vance I decide to take Cleveland, the road right before my usual Central turn.  And I did.  And I got pulled over immediately.  Because as you Memfus folk reading this know, you can’t turn left onto Cleveland from Lamar.

The cop is white, which sucks because of my Obama sticker.  I gave him my insurance card and he informs me that it expired 6 days before.  I know I’ve paid my insurance so I ask him if he can call the number, which he got very snotty about.  While he wrote me a ticket I called my insurance and got my new cards emailed to me – the agent was a little miffed that he wouldn’t take a verbal from her when the cards were out less than a week before.  Not to mention my two little kids in the backseat.  He cut me no breaks, and because I have the insurance ticket, that is a MANDATORY COURT APPEARANCE.

So guess who has to spend a fucking day in October at 201 Poplar?  That’s right, moi.  Slick fucked up if you ask me.

My good news I have to share??  I will post a blog with details later when I’m in a better mood, but suffice to say that Jeremy and I talked everything out last night when he came home and – finally – blew a .00 (the day before it was .29 when he came home).  Yes, we are still getting a divorce, but we are doing it together, with love and mutual respect.  We want to be friends and parents together, we want to be there for one another.  But we know we can’t be married or live together.  It was a beautiful and special thing to be able to sit down with him and really talk – it made me realize just how long it has been since I’ve seen him completely sober.

I’m going to look at that place Saturday!

And Jeremy is considering all of his options – including military service.  I am very very pleased with how things are going right now, so let’s all hope he doesn’t get drunk and fuck it up.

(P.S.  Just before I get any response to this, let me please ask you to refrain from saying “Memphrica” to me right now.  I really really hate that shit.)

I feel so … weird.  It’s odd, I remember before all this happened, on Monday, I got this feeling in my stomach.  And I was sitting in my office with the door shut, eating some nabs and chatting with Misty when I just out of the blue voiced what my stomach had felt all morning long, “I feel an impending sense of doom.”  Misty looked taken aback, and she hesitated before responding with, “Wow.  That’s not good.  What makes you say that??”

I shrugged.  I didn’t know, really.  It was just this strong feeling in the pit of my stomach.  As I very often do, I really opened my mouth and said it without thinking.  I didn’t consider my words or carefully select the word “doom”.  But as I sat there swiveling in my chair I mulled over what I had just blurted out and decided that no matter how hastily the word may have been chosen, it was certainly the most fitting description of the feeling in my belly.

Then Monday night all this shit hit the fan.  The bubble that started expanding years ago finally burst.

Now the feeling in my belly is stronger, it’s so strong I can’t eat.  I would expect to feel shitty right now, to feel scared and alone.  But it is stronger than those words alone, and it is really impossible to describe.  First, the sense of doom didn’t dissapate when this all happened, there was no relief… it just got stronger.  Add on to it that I feel terrified – not scared, but literally terrified.  Guilty, nervous, anxious, and powerless.  Weak, stupid, played, pissed.  Betrayed.  Sad.

But I also feel hopeful and optimistic.  The good feelings I have are much weaker than the bad feelings, so instead of allowing me to to actually feel good in any way, they just help me feel a little bit less bad.  If I can hang onto them.  Sometimes I can’t.  Sometimes I think I’m okay, and I’m truly feeling better and the next thing I know tears are stinging my eyes and I have to grip the edge of my desk and try like hell to keep it all together.

Let me tell you what has helped more than anything: all of you.  I know it sounds like just words, but when I say this I really really FEEL it – the comments yall have made, they become my mantra sometimes when I’m holding back a floodgate of tears at work.  The text messages have always seemed to come at just the right time.  The myspace statuses (stati?) directed toward me have made me smile.  You just don’t know how much I really NEED your support and to know that I have it is just like my net below this death-defyingly high tightrope marriage I just fell out of.  I have some pretty fucking great friends, so I believe Bob Marley – every little thing is going to be alright, no matter what my belly thinks.

And man, I knew some of you were going to help me.  But I had NO IDEA the things you would say would help as much as they have.  When Marie countered my “what’s going to happen to him if I leave?” with “what’s going to happen if you stay?”, man that really made me think.  It made me doubt myself much less, it gave me strength.  And Kristin – WOW – I knew you had been there, but the whole “you can’t keep rearranging the furniture in a house that’s on fire” line… I have heard that before, but it has never so accurately described a situation in which I’m personally involved.  But when you said that being a good person deep down isn’t good enough when you’re hurting everyone around you… THAT was another one of those times that just immediately made me think, “Damn, I am so glad I posted this blog — I needed to hear that.”

I repeated several of all of your words of wisdom to the counselors at work who are walking me through this, and they replied with low whistles… “Man,” one of them said, “that is good.”  They know I have some great friends.

Some of you offered spiritual-esque wishes, or the antithesis of such… one person messaged me on myspace telling me she was praying for me and that Jesus one day would indeed wipe away my tears, and of course Michael’s proud atheist ass told me there’s no heaven so get moving on this life.  Strangely, both comforted me immensely for different reasons.  Mostly, I am just so grateful for yall throwing your love my way and allowing me to use it to wash off some of the betrayal I’ve felt.

So, for an update.  I am trying to get Jeremy to consider going into rehab for a few weeks and when he goes out, I think he should enlist in the military.  The pay is good and while he’s getting paid he will have no bills.  He is in zero debt – all the debt is in my name.  All he’d have to do is support his kids and save to build a life for himself.  The housing, clothing, and medical care are all provided.  He could buy a house when he gets out, on the GI Bill.  The kids could get college scholarships, and he’d have a life insurance policy for them.

He is so fucking mad that I even suggested that.  I also found some garage apartments he could rent and stay around here.  He could afford them.  I don’t know how that’s going to help build a new life, but hey that’s his choice.

And I got some really exciting news for me too!!  I found a 3 bedroom trailer for rent on a private acre in Eudora for only $450 a month!!  That’s Frayser prices, without the 99% chance of getting my honky cracker ass raped or shot.  I’m supposed to call them back about it at 8:30 and I just realized it’s past that, so I’m gonna get to it!  But I know it’s still available!

HELLO FREEDOM!!  (That’s the excitement talking.  Trying to stifle the fear…)

Well yesterday and today have sucked on many levels.  The National Guard decided to fake some sort of hostage situation in the building yesterday and I had to maneuver through police, military personnel, and the Red Cross to get to work.  Obviously I was late.  Then I had to listen to their “concussion bombs” and whatnot all morning, all the while fielding phone calls about what was going on and registering new students.

Today I had my rudest parent.  Compared to this time last year this lady was a pleasure to deal with, but it’s really not the best time of the month to be copping an attitude with me, if you catch my drift.  She was just a jackass and wound up asking for the number to the school board, which I was more than pleased to give her, but it generally pisses me off when people act all hoity toidy, like they’re going over your head to get you in trouble.  Go for it, call county, let them tell you the same damn thing I did, Miss Wait-Until-The-Very-Last-Minute-To-Enroll-Your-Children-In-School.

On a personal note, Jeremy’s debit card information was stolen so someone in Portugal was really racking up until we went overdraft and the party was over.  Now I have all those charges to dispute.

But okay, you didn’t click the link to my blog to listen to me bitch and moan, did you?  You probably wanted to hear the good news!  If you are a parent, this is valuable information that you likely did not know until now.  I didn’t.

For years, I have thought I had to vaccinate my children in order to enroll them in public school.  Both my kids are up-to-date and managed to receive their vaccines without any dire consequences, but I know people who were not so lucky.  I know the government has finally acknowledged the link between vaccines and autism, but they say that even with the skyrocketing rate of autism the benefits of the vaccines are worth the risk.

I say tell that to the mother whose sweet angelic little boy will no longer hug her or look her in the eye.  The mother who will never hear her daughter say, “I love you, Mommy.”  I’m sorry, but these things are priceless to me.  My eyes are brimming with tears now at the mere thought of my precious little boy never wrapping his arms around my neck again.

Nate lacks one more shot before he starts kindergarten.  And now, knowing what I know, he will never receive it, or any other vaccine.  Not for the measles, not for polio, not for the freaking flu.  What the government doesn’t tell you is that the flu vaccine will increase your chance for developing alzheimers later in life – by a lot.  That the polio vaccine, in its experimental phases in Kenya, likely started the HIV virus.  That vaccinating your child will not only increase their chances of being autistic, but can also cause paralysis, hepatitis, post-vaccinal encephalitis, blindness, kidney disease, or even death.

So you can trust the vaccines and take your chances, but you do have a choice!

Contrary to popular belief, you do not have to vaccinate your child for public school.  Today a parent presented me, not with a shot record, but with a different form entirely.  The paper she handed me was an affidavit declaring her son expempt from vaccinations because they conflicted with her personal beliefs.

Apparently this is a FEDERAL law, and no state can refuse to accept this form in lieu of a shot record.  Senate Bill #942, Section 1, Chapter 7 states, in part, “Immunizations of a person shall not be required for admission to a school or other institution… If the guardian, parent, or adult who has assumed responsibility for his or her custody and care in the case of a minor, or the person seeking admission, files with the governing authority [i.e., get it notorized], a letter or affidavit stating that such vaccination is contrary to his/her beliefs…”

So you want a copy of the affidavit for your personal use?  CLICK HERE AND GO FOR IT!! And congratulations to your for making the decision to protect your child from the harmful side effects of vaccines.