Time is a cruel thing

As I reach the mid of my 40th year on this Earth, I realize that youth is no more.  I could still feel those rare remnants of it in my late 20’s or maybe I just didn’t recognize that time was marching on because I was stuck in the drama that was my life.  I did still feel it in my mid-thirties but that was due to weight loss.  I’m fat again never to be thin like I was 3 years ago due to many different health reasons, so youth….is disappearing.

20120422-142821My body is failing me.  I will soon be developing either degenerative disc disease or arthritis in my spine which pretty much keeps me from any of the weight lifting and hardcore cardio on the elliptical I did 3 years ago.  My thyroid is shutting down causing said fatness and I feel like an ugly round butter bean.  I was on such a high, 3 years ago. But the higher you climb, the harder you fall and psychically, I fell long and hard with no sight of getting back to where I was in sight

I only have memories, memories of a time where I could breathe, literally.  Memories of when I could smile.  I could smile even THROUGH the vast loneliness that consumed me, even while looking my best.

Youth is gone…..

I was just told by my mother a few days ago that the Frontal Temporal Disease my father of 64 had, is now full fledged Alzheimer’s.  This is something that began developing when he was 57…..57!   His brain, after a recent scan and compared to the last scan done 3 years ago, shows the signs of dark voids that most MRI scans of Alzheimer patients will show.

dementia-introduction-slides-by-swapnakishore-released-ccbyncsa-19-638

Not the actual scan but this is a good comparison

This both pisses me off and makes me sad.  My father has done nothing but work and work and work to stay with my mother, to uphold her standards of living, to keep us, since I was a child 40 years ago.  He didn’t divorce or leave her because he didn’t want to lose my sister and I as he lost his two children before from his previous marriage. Now I won’t claim to know all the reasoning behind his life with her. I only know what I see on the outside. And granted, his previous wife was a bitch from hell and took his kids (my older brother and sister) but that is neither here nor there.

His quality of life is no longer.  His youth is most definitely gone.  He can no longer speak or interact.  He does not react well to being outside his room where he just sits and watches T.V.  As of lately, it seems his brain can’t process small types of crisis such as, “I have the slight urge to go to the bathroom but I’m not dying” but his brain says “if I don’t go to the bathroom now, I’ll lose my mind and wail and scream“….the wailing and screaming he is starting to do more. That is very hard to see.  My mother, is diving into a pool of depression and frustration that she really isn’t becoming a good caretaker and the burden falls on my sister and I, but mostly my sister, who is starting to lose her own mind.  I sense that especially after a tear filled weeping conversation I had with her on the phone.  That is abnormal because this is a person who NEVER shows emotion and when I mean never…I mean…I have NEVER seen her cry past maybe once or twice in her 35 years of life.  The weight my mother puts on her/us and then how she repays us with ugly words and treating us like crap….I have little respect for her, very little.  She gave me life….and that is the extent of the decency I will show her.

I sometimes wonder, if this is God’s cruel idea of a joke

We are only here for a short time….

That is what I keep telling myself…’This is temporary…This is temporary”

It may seem that I left this blog by the wayside and perhaps I have.

In the weight department, I have been at a steady and maintained weight loss of 75lbs. Sometimes it goes up…then I bring it right back down. I am now conscious of when I start to gain a pound or two and make sure that it comes back down. As of right now…I’m up a bit but I will bring it right back down. I have been keeping exercise as a regular part of my routine at 3-4 times a week, 30 minutes on the elliptical or bike and weight lifting. I am pretty much carb free but sneak the occasional dinner roll or fry here and there. But 98% of my food choices do not include carbs in any form. I am going to finish up my last two weeks at the medical clinic and then I’m going to switch to another facility which is just around the corner from my office building and I can visit for my vitamin injections during my lunch hour.  I want to start fresh at a new place, from my current weight.  I still have about 30 pounds to lose although I may try and go as far as losing another 50 lbs bringing me down to about 120 lbs at 5 feet 4 inches height.  I started this journey May 4, 2013 and will never look back.  After a year, I will start fresh and these will be my new goals:

Height:  5 ft, 4 in
Current Weight:  178 lb  (give or take)
Healthy weight range:  117-146 lb
Current BMI:  31
Healthy BMI range:  20-25

MjAxMy1lYjAyZjhlYThkZWIyNGUwWork has not been so good.  I am currently dealing with a boss who yells, argues and screams at me, on the phone, or to anyone he’s talking to.  I’ve documented it with H.R. and that is all I can really do.  He also burps all the time, farts in front of me (his office constantly smells like butt) and I literally have to leave the area when he eats lunch because he’s SO loud with his chomping and slurping that it makes me physically ill.  I made the mistake once of walking into his office while he was eating lunch and let me just say, the spaghetti sauce was ALL over his mouth….all…over.  And by the way, this is a 58 year old man.  He is disgusting.  My solution, since I need a paycheck and can’t quit, is to completely shut down any interaction with him.  Basically, I avoid him at all costs.  Communication is mostly through emails.  It’s working out, for the most part.

But the worst was about 1 ½ months ago, when somehow, an un-authorized person snuck into the buildings and stole 3 wallets straight from purses sitting on cubicles.  My wallet was one of them.  I’m very disappointed in how my employer handled the situation.  But I have to put up with all of this because eating is not an option.  I will say it really takes its toll on me.  The stress is beginning to affect my stomach.  I’m pretty sure I have IBS but I need to go to my Dr. to get him to diagnose me but from what I’ve read, I’m sure that’s it.  On my own, I’m starting probiotics and cutting back on the coffee…(*sorta* teehee).  But my appetite and eating is pretty much null and void.  I have no desire for food as I used to over a year ago.  But that’s fine with me.

Screenshot_2014-08-01-12-02-36

My farm….

I have become mildly obsessed with Farmville 2: Country Escape.  Yes, yes I have. I’m farming and harvesting and creating yummy foods such as cakes, pies and fish that sometimes just playing the game brings my appetite back! It’s funny.  Anyway, look up cpamorain@gmail.com on Google Games and that would be me. It should be listed as one of my games that I’m getting achievements from.

Rejection-Investors-Startup--790x391I have officially given up on finding someone, a companion to walk with me and beside me for the rest of my life.  After putting myself out there for a bit…the rejection, even after becoming physically attractive (or so I thought the weight loss would help) is unbearable.  I was never one to react positively from rejection.Plain Jane

I’ve had a series of revelations. There was a time that I firmly believed that my over weight issue was what kept me unattractive and plain.  I have since come to find out, it was never the weight.  I will admit to being a “Plain Jane” and nothing that turns heads.  Hell, I’ll be lucky if I can get another human being to even acknowledge that I exist.  Beyond that, there is something about my personality that makes others turn away.  I am not all alone for no reason.  I should wear a sign that says “does not play well with others”.  The weight is gone and still, I’m a nobody.

I barely exist to anyone.  My son just sees me as a bank to make sure he has what he needs and a disciplinary who stops him from having “fun”.  Although I firmly believe that I am the coolest mom on the planet.   Just recently, he started becoming interested in Superman comics and we found a great Comic Book store near our apartment that I take him to (when he acts good) and I get him comics to his hearts desire.  Now tell me, how many mothers will get down on their hands and knees digging through boxes of back issues of Superman comics in a local comic book store, to find the right Superman comic for their 10 year old son.  We are not many, us cool moms.  I love it though.  I’ve always been a geek at heart.

Mario KartI also visited just about every McDonald’s in the area JUST to get The Boy his last Mario Kart toys from there.  They were the Happy Meal toys and he was only  missing three.  I found two out of the three he was missing.  I couldn’t find Donkey Kong.Beanie Babys

I will admit…I did get some of the Beanie Babies (the “Girl” toy) for myself…they were so cute!

But this all proves this theory: That kid…is my entire reason for existing…my entire…..reason.

My parents barely know I exist beyond giving them their most precious grandchild. I’m just waiting for my father’s impending progression of Alzheimer’s to finally kick in and he won’t know who I am, at all.  Until then, he just can’t talk.  But both my parents pretty much ignore me more now than they ever did.   My younger sister….*sigh*…her and I are just not on the same page about morals and standards in life and are having serious personality conflicts.  It really does break my heart but she is the most stubborn and unforgiving person I know.  She also needs to think before she speaks just as a common human courtesy.  I also think she resents me for my weight loss but that is just speculation.  She is going down the path of physical self sabotage and gaining SO much weight and I worry for her health.  She is pre-diabetic, has thyroid issues and back problems.  She really needs to lose about 100 lbs, for health reason alone!   I know that she holds some resentment towards me just by being in the same room with her because we’ve both been fat our whole lives.  This journey is a lifetime change and she is all about the “3-day cleanse” diets.  That doesn’t work for us.  It’s a lifetime thing.  My older sister, well I never had a real relationship with her as we didn’t grow up together.  I have no friends and barely know a handful of relatives.

liar_liar_pants_on_fireI tried the dating thing and it just didn’t work. There was always someone better than me or, as I’ve come to realize, most men, especially the so called “Christian” ones, are all liars.  The amount of liars and hypocrites I’ve run into in the approximately 8 months I’ve tried dating is outstanding and absolutely incredible.  Guys that say “I’m looking for a Christian woman, with standards and values……” then turn around and want to jump in the sack…uh…no….?  Or you get the ones who really like that I’m a sports fanatic and would rather go to a good baseball or hockey event than shop for shoes, then drop me like I have leprosy to pursue someone who, surprise…..surprise, is eye candy for them to hang off their arm.  Pathetic…. Men, are a lost cause, especially at this age.  I’m done with them and their lies, arrogance and hypocrisy.

And after that evaluation, I really will be brutally honest and admit that for me, death cannot come fast enough.

Now let me explain that statement.

The Bible tells us that Christians will be with Jesus the instant they die.

In 2 Corinthians 5:8 the Apostle Paul even longed for death because he knew it would take him into the presence of Jesus.  He said,  “We are confident, I say, and willing rather to be absent from the body, and to be present with the Lord. “

In Luke 23:43 Jesus tells the thief dying on the cross, “Verily I say unto thee, Today shalt thou be with Me in Paradise.”

I just want to be with Jesus, where there is no pain, physical or mental or emotional.  This life is temporary and full of heartache and sorrow and sometimes, it’s a bit to much.  But I do not condone murder, so when I say that, I mean that getting older only carries for me regret that I didn’t live my younger years with more wisdom.  I sometimes feel I have nothing to teach my son yet, on the flip side, I have everything to teach him because of my mistakes that I learned from.  I know that he alone, is the only reason I exist on this planet.  Well him and the fear of the eternal consequences of murder (because, yes, suicide is murder and God gave us each our paths for a reason).

So please, no comments like “you need to seek counseling blah blah blah”.  I’m not going to off myself.  I just can’t wait to be in a happier place when this life walk is over.  The end of this physical life in this physical skin will be such a welcome to me.

thCAAVBAA6

I used to blame God for my loneliness and be petrified of dying, but I can’t feel that way anymore.  It was I who made my choices. The only “blame” that can go towards God is that He gave humans the ability to choose right from wrong.  He only shows us the paths and we must choose to walk the proper one.  I did not  with the choices I made, out of rebellion and spite and now I suffer the consequences by dealing with loneliness and the harsh reality that for however many more years I have on this planet, they will be utterly and totally, alone.

So, in essence, since my last posts in here of our wonderful day trip to Hearst Castle to my constant battle with loneliness, it hasn’t gotten much better.  There are good days and bad days.  There are days when my family really get on my last nerve and I’m done with them.  But for the most part, I spend most of my time with The Boy and just prepare myself for the day when he will jump on the bandwagon, and also reject me somewhere down the line.  Then I will be utterly and truly alone and my battle between living and being patience for God’s time for Him to call me to His Kingdom, will truly begin.

Or, it might not end up that way because I have also learned that I am not the one making the path.  I just follow what is right and how believe.  I will enjoy my son and teach him the best I can.  He starts school a week from Monday and will be entering the 5th grade.  I’m taking him to a Dodger game on Sunday as a “End of the Summer” last fun thing to do and a night at a fun restaurant in Pasadena where you throw your peanut shells on the floor.  I’ve already been to two Dodger games this summer, one with my sister and my kid and one with my sister, kid, and my parents and I think I just want to be with my kid now.  Sometimes, they are all to much for me to handle and my patience is pushed to it’s limits.

But I constantly do question one thing about my faith.  If Jesus died for us and forgave us, why do the sins of our past hurt us in our present?  I guess I should talk to a pastor about that but I try to figure things out on my own.

Today, she would have been 37

I had a friend who was sweeter than cherry pie.  She never had a negative word to say about anyone.

She was more my sister than my friend.  She would never show her emotions beyond a silly grin, whether she was sad or upset.  She only once gave me a good scolding and that was because I deserved it.

She never wanted to let off that she was sick, to weak or in pain.  She was stubborn like that and I adored her for it.  She never asked for help.  She never seemed to need it as strong as she was.  She never worried about anything and I mean anything.  She had building debt but still traveled and enjoyed life.  She also never cleaned her room but I loved her for it.

She was living on borrowed time the moment we all found out she had cancer at age 19.  She fought that bitch until age 29, when finally, it won.  She spent her last days with loved ones, travelling with her family, celebrating her birthday with her friends.  All the while, I knew she would be gone soon.

I was there when she died, I saw her soul go up to God.

There isn’t a day I don’t think about her in just about everything I do.  I lost my best friend, my only friend and because of it, I’ve been friendless since.

I miss you and Happy birthday.

Let’s talk about 9/11

Every single American adult (and even the children) in this country will forever remember where they were the day that thousands of our fellow American died.  I’m sure, just like in the past 12 years on this day, there will be plenty of blog posts about what one was doing on that morning we witnessed the horror.

My story of that day and how days after have affected me, is no different or more special than the next person who blogs about their memories of this tragic event because we all, universally, shared the same emotions.

I was 24.  On that day, I woke up a bit earlier than normal because I was about to spend the day apartment hunting with my fiancé.  We were to be married on October 27, 2001.  I was not working at the time so I usually woke up later in the morning.  But today, I woke up earlier.

I turned on the T.V. and every channel was set to a burning skyscraper in New York City.  I really didn’t know the lay out or much of the demographics of New York because I live in California and have my whole life.  However, I did recognize these towers and knew them to house many business companies and many people worked in them.  As I stood in the kitchen, I stared at the T.V. listening to the reporters describing the flames coming out of the building because a plane had slammed into it and you could hear the panic in their voices mixed with confusion because no one really knew what was going on!  One reporter thought it was an accident or that maybe the pilot lost control.  Another did suggest a hijacking and that it was done on purpose.

It was when the second plane hit WHILE they were still reporting and showing footage of the first planes’ wreckage, that I believe every American watching it knew, all at once, in unison, what exactly was happening.

This was not an accident, this was deliberate.

I walked upstairs and woke up my mother and said “I think New York is being attacked. Come look at the news”.  Of course, knowing my mother, I should have used less dire words because she woke up with a start and I’m sure all she heard was the word “attack” and probably words I never said like “our house is being attacked and we are all going to die”.

Although, now that I think back, her awakening panic was very much called for this one time.

We both watched the news for a bit but I had to leave to go apartment hunting.  Of course, at this point I, and I believe a lot of us on the west coast and around the world, didn’t realize what kind of tragedy this would turn out to be.  I got back home later that afternoon after randomly listening to the radio news about what was happening in NY.  Little did I know that airports were being shut down simultanesouly across the country and public places were being cleared out.  Even Disneyland was quickly emptied out for fear of the unknown that could be heading towards ANY city or public venue, big or small, within the U.S.

Disneyland

Actual photo taken of Main Street, Disneyland in Anaheim the morning of 9/11/01.  By this time in the morning, Disneyland should have been filled with smiling guests. It was never opened that day. Photo from laughingplace.com

As the days rolled on, more news came in about what happened and what was thought to have happened.  The black boxes from the United planes were retrieved and soon released.  Stories began to flood in from people at Ground Zero and more footage was becoming accessible.  Being that I didn’t watch the whole news cast on the day it happened, I had yet to see the footage of the Towers collapsing until days later.  I was stunned and horrified when I did.

As the years rolled on and Anniversary’s of the day came and went, more stories came out.  Footage from random people in apartments many blocks away were revealed.  They even released some 911 calls that came in from people in the Towers and the planes which were devasting to hear.  Simply devastating.

Ever since that day, anytime I watch old movies from before 2001, I always notice something I’ve never noticed before.  Those tall, towering skyscrapers in the New York skyline.

It turned out that just as the Statue of Liberty depicted New York, so did those Twin Towers.

To this day, watching a movie that shows New York, or any metropolis, being attacked and buildings crashing to the ground, gives me chills and makes me cringe.  I know it’s all Hollywood and in those movies when Aliens attack, why wouldn’t they want to bring down every building they can.  I just think that from the moment the first plane hit on 9/11/01, the “Alien attacking” scenes from any movie, rubs everyone a little raw.

Before 9/11

Armegeddon

From “Armegeddon” (1998) Image from rottentomatoes.com

supermariobrothers01303ct8

From Super Mario Bros. (1995) Image from therealnewsonline.com

 Films more recently released…

A scene from The Avengers (2012)  Image from onthesetofnewyork.com

A scene from The Avengers (2012) Image from onthesetofnewyork.com

Man of Steel

Man of Steel ( 2013)  Image from businessinsider.com

September 11th is now called “Patriot Day”.

In remembrance of the thousands of lives lost.

In remembrance of the many children who lost mothers and fathers, many spouses who lost husbands and wives and many families who lost brothers and sisters.

911 Never Forget

R.I.P. DJ the Hamster

image

DJ the Hamster

This morning, I was awoken by The Boy rushing into my room saying, “Mommy! DJ Died! ”

Oh Good Lord…..

So, I get up and go to see what is what. Sure enough, it’s dead.

I then explain to him that we will clean the cage out and place him in a bag.  He says he wants it buried.  Uh ok?  Being that I live in an apartment complex I don’t have access to a back yard.

I must think fast.

I tell him that I will put it in a bag and take it down to the bushes on the other side of my apartment building where there is more dirt than grass and I will bury him there and then come back and get him and he can place his little “tombstone” on it with a flower from the bushes.

I take the bag with the dead animal down the stairs, to the dirt spot, pass the dirt spot and drop it into the large dumpster in the back.  I then go back to the dirt spot and rustle the dirt a bit to look like I dug up the dirt and put it back, then go to get The Boy.

He puts down his little piece of “tombstone” bark and a few flowers there and we move on with our day.

I feel bad that I couldn’t tell him that I just threw it in the dumpster but I’m pretty sure that someone would have seen me putting a small rodent into the ground and I would have been caught.  There are always people walking around and it’s out in the open.  And if a gardener had found it, I don’t think they could have pinned it on me but who knows if they have cameras around the tops of the apartment buildings!  I think like that sometimes.

So, The Boy got his Memorial.  That is all that mattered to me and he was able to lay DJ to rest.

image

A moment of silence for DJ the Hamster, please……..

First question out of The Boy’s mouth….”Can we go to Pet Smart and get another hamster?

Ugh…..

I have had the night to think on this…

I found out about my childhood friend dying last night, around 10:00 p.m.

I’ve had some time to think, to message and get a response from her sister on what the heck happened. 

She did have Stage IV Breast Cancer and had been fighting it for 3 years.  Apparently, no one really knew and I believe that was by her request.  I totally respect and understand that.  She also will not be having a funeral service, also by her request.  That last one kinda bothers me but I’m trying to find out at least where I can visit her gravesite.

I will admit to wanting to cry, a lot, here at my desk at work.  I probably should have just stayed home but I am one to put on a happy face, when inside, I’m screaming in pain.

I know sometimes, I just want to shake my fists at God asking “WHY?”.

Why would two of my friends, who were fairly healthy people, non-smokers, non-drinkers, one a devoted wife and mother, the other a kind soul, be taken so young…yet….

My ex husband who a) abandons his son b) drinks and smokes heavily c) gets into bar fights and d) is just an over all mean and heartless soul amongst who knows what other bad habits he’s contracted…….gets a clean bill of health every year and will more than likely live until he is an old man.

There are other people I’ve known who have done horrible things and live into their 90’s. 

That kind of “logic” will never make sense to me, ever.  No matter how many minister’s or Christians explain it to me.  Is it the Achilles’ Heel of my faith?  It sure is.  It just simply is not fair.

I would like to think it could possibly be a type of torture.  These people have to live with how they are and/or what they have done.  So life, for them, is a jail sentence into their souls.

My friends, were just to damn good for this World and needed to move up higher than anyone.

Maybe….maybe I’m just sick of all this death happening around me lately.  It’s bumming me out.

My youth…is dying

I knew that THIS post was happening for a reason.

Along with my Best Friend, there was another friend who was part of our circle.

I just found out last night, that my other friend, just passed away last week from breast cancer.   She was 38.  She left behind a husband and 6 year old daughter.

These two friends of mine, shared an apartment together when we were younger.  I would always go over there to visit them.  They both hosted my Bachelorette Party and helped me make my wedding favors.

They are now both dead.

As the title states, I feel like my youth is dying…. and I suddenly fear I’m next.

Oh Lord help me.

What would we be doing right now?

I remember what we were doing before we were 29.

  • You always had so many different friends that I always felt that I was sharing you with so many others, even if you were the only true friend I had.
  • You were usually telling me that I was a bit to blunt and outspoken for my own good and you would always do it in a way that put me in my place, without making me feel like a Class A Bag of Douche.
  • You would always pour me to much Rum and Coke and I would always push it away, until I just decided to just take the drink so you would stop pestering me to lighten up.
  • You helped me through my wedding and fights with my mother, even though you shared her feelings that I was marrying the absolutely wrong man.
  • You always had positive words and a bright smile………Always, up until we were 29.

What would we be doing now?

  • You would have been my shoulder to cry on when my divorce finally became reality because you always listened so patiently and without judgement.
  • You NEVER would have said “I told you so” after my marriage was officially done because you would have known that my family would have already said it enough.
  • You would have helped me with my child as much as you could.
  • You would have given me the advice and the strength to venture on my own and to be independent as a single mother.
  • You would have joined me on my adventures with my son, and smiled the whole time.
  • You would be here with me, in the present, to take me out for coffee or a stiff drink, when I needed a night off.

However, we will not be doing those things.  At 29, something else entered our lives.  At 29, Cancer claimed you and stole from me my Best Friend.

You were my only friend and I have never found your equal since, nor do I feel I ever will.

7 years ago, my life went from “what did we do then” to “what would we be doing right now”.

I miss you so much it hurts to the core of my being and I would give anything to have you back, sitting here, telling me that I’m a bit blunt and outspoken, then handing me a Rum and Coke.

rum and coke

If one doesn’t respond to a text within minutes…they must be dead.

Yesterday, I kept The Boy home because he had a nasty little cough. I stayed home from work with him. We watched some TV in the morning then migrated to my bed to watch Adventure Time on the computer and take a little nap just before lunch. I love Adventure Time. It’s super cute.

Sick Child = 800px-Adventure_Time_-_Title_card

The whole time, my cell phone was on silent. I usually don’t have it on silent when I’m not at work but I had neglected to switch it off silent when I got home the night before.

Now, there are days when I can have no communication, text or email, with either my mother or sister. Of course, this was not one of those days.

Remember, my phone is on silent and I never answer my land line especially during the day because it’s always some sales person trying to sell me a subscription to the local newspaper, a bill collector collecting a debt from someone who isn’t even me or the wrong number. I just have that land line for 911 emergencies.

I noticed around 4pm the land line had been ringing a lot and I figure this is how much it rings during the day. I’m not home during the week days so how would I know? I wouldn’t be surprised if that was so. By this time, we had migrated  to the front room to watch Call of the Wildman on Animal Planet. It was a 3 hour marathon of that show. (pretty good show by the way).

Anyway, around this time, 4pm, I decide to get my quiet, silenced cell phone off my end table in my room and look at it.

The missed calls, voicemails and texts were innumerable.

3qxwj9

Ok, maybe not 10 but you get the point…

They are all from my mother, with one from my sister. The first text was a random text from my mother about a $50 gas card she had given me on Saturday. She was just asking if I had used it yet.  When I didn’t respond immediately, she texted again and again “where are you?” and “hello?”

It was then I noticed emails, voicemails and missed calls.

I pick up the phone and called her and she starts bawling almost immediately! She said she got scared when I didn’t text her back right away.  She called my WORK line (well good thing I wasn’t playing hookie or anything! I actually did call in to say I would be caring for The Boy and wouldn’t be in to work).

She said she called my son’s day care, who told her that he didn’t show up to school.  But unfortunately, the day care also failed to mention that I had called the school at 8 that morning to say he was going to be out sick. This fueled the fire even more.

At this point, she thought we were dead….

I do not make any of this stuff up. She really thought we were dead.

I don’t know what to think of this. At first, I was annoyed. I mean, seriously, I don’t respond RIGHT AWAY and that means it’s time to send out the National Guard. She admitted that the next call she was going to make was to hospitals because to her, we must have been dead. But my sister talked her out of it. Even my sister was a bit tiffed about this over- dramatic episode. She was at work and when stuff like this happens, my mother tends to do everything short of walking into our offices and getting in our faces. Hence, just short of getting us fired.

These texts, voicemails and emails were all within the time frame of 1 hour.

However, I will admit that I did feel very bad. I mean in my mother’s little world, she really thought her daughter and her grandson were dead. No joke. I apologized profusely because I’m not mean and I would never have purposely wanted her to think that we were dead…

But seriously, am I being strange in thinking this kind of paranoia is just bizarre?

Am I rude in thinking that just because I don’t respond to a text within minutes, it’s a bit over dramatic to think I’m DEAD?

She said “usually if you don’t go to work you text us saying you are staying home”……Uh..no I don’t. Because last time I checked, I was a 36 year old adult and didn’t need to check in with mommy and daddy that I would be sick from work.

It’s like Drama is a genetic part of this family’s DNA…..

got_drama_bumper_sticker-p128731813388799796en8ys_400

Its exhausting….

Some history: My Relationship with My Mother

I will just say that my mother and I really just do not see eye to eye at all and we never have. She is NOT my best friend, as I have seen some women claim their own mothers are just that. If she was not family and the woman who gave me life, I would not associate with her. Her theories are so backwards it’s unbelievable. As I said in my Black Widow Dream entry, I am VERY careful with what I share with her because she is the type of person who will take a weakness about me and absolutely exploit it just to make herself feel powerful. The funny thing about this is, she only does this with me. To the outside public, she is a saint.

The History:

Her and I have bucked heads since the day I was born, when I actually almost killed her coming out of her. As morbid as that sounds, it is the truth. I mention this because, it is for that reason that I still honor and respect her because, she did birth me and she deserves that in the very least.

Also, it should be expressed that she lost her own mother at the age of 9 and had to raise her 3 younger siblings at that age, as a mother would. My grandmother died of Kidney failure at the age of 35. I am 36, I carry my Grandmother’s name and when I finally passed 35 I breathed a sign of relief because I to, have had Kidney problems in the past. I’m superstitious like that sometimes.

Moving on, growing up, it was quickly established who was the “man” in the house. My father gave up his “cahones” the minute he married her. She was very manipulative and would have bouts of absolute hysteria (now, looking back, I realize she was probably severely bipolar and a manic-depressive). I remember it, my sister, has blocked a lot of it out.  There are also other family issues that arose many times dealing with my mother’s father, who is now dead.

Side Note: I will never feel well speaking ill of the dead but this man, my mother’s father, well let’s just say I really do NOT think he is sitting at the right hand of God. He did horrible things to my family, my mother, sister, aunts and to his last breath he never asked for forgiveness. He died lonely with only my mother and his wife by his side, the only two women he apparently had a strong hold on. He had 7 children (one that is out there but never was brought into the family), none were there. He had numerous grandchildren, none were there. He even had numerous great-grandchildren, one of which is my son and none were there. I can assure you, it was not without good cause, that he died practically alone. At the funeral, as I looked around, the only people who really “mourned” him were those who didn’t know what kind of man he really was. I know I was just there to pay respect to a life, even if it wasn’t lived all that well but if he hadn’t lived, then neither would I be living.

Moving on, I know my mother suffered in her childhood and there isn’t a day that goes by where I hate that she suffered. Because of her suffering and the sins of her father and the unfortunate death of her own mother, my sister and I suffered. Tremendously. But a lot of who she is today isn’t her fault.

A lot of my mistakes in my choice of husband not only had to deal with low self esteem and thinking no one else would want me but it also included the fact that I wanted to get away from my manipulative and controlling mother.

I realized that I would never get away from her as long as I continued a relationship with her, no matter where I was in life.

Life in her house, after my divorce:

When I lived with her after my divorce and while my son was a baby, the manipulations were tremendous because now, she was using my son.

Oh and where is my father in all this….the man did whatever she wanted, followed whatever she did and if his daughters were hurting, crying, in pain because of his wife’s words, it didn’t matter. He was her puppy, not one ounce of backbone. But, just as I still respect my mother for giving me life, I do the same for my father because he worked hard to provide for his children and wife. I will always respect that and for teaching us to work and not wait for “hand outs”. He had his own family history to blame for it (another entry maybe?).

I was 28 and living in my parents’ house with a small baby. Not a good combination. It was their house, their rules so there was no way I was ever going to be a mother the way I wanted to be a mother.

I wanted to be a fun mother. Not the “I will be your best friend, son” type of mother because I don’t think a mother and child can be “best friends”. But they can be friends. I wanted to go on adventures. I got a Disneyland Annual Pass when my son was 10 months old and that was the first time he went to Disneyland. It ended up being a routine just about every Tuesday, my day off from work.

My mother, did not make life easy. She constantly put me down, which I should be used to by now because even to this day (more on that later) she still finds a way to put me down. She would tell me everything I’m doing wrong.

For example, I was giving my son soup for lunches and forgot to put the one can of water into the soup. She was determined to convince me that because I was not putting the one can water into the soup that The Boy was breaking out in a rash. I do not make this stuff up. She berated me for forgetting to put the water in the soup and there was my father, right behind her just nodding his head.

Thinking back on that now, it’s laughable because the me of today would have laughed in her face (as sometimes I do when she starts to come up with silly notions again). She would make sure one little mistake I made was blown up to the size of a mountain and that it was cause for The Boy’s demise.

I do recall one incident that showed me that some how, some way, I needed to Master the Jedi Art of Ignore when it came to my mother.

I had just lost my job. It was not a high point in my life. I fixed The Boy some waffles and eggs for breakfast. He was being fussy and didn’t want to eat and threw a fit. I put him in his room for a time out. My mother came into the kitchen screaming at me that I was a horrible mother, that I didn’t know how to do anything and couldn’t even keep a job…on and on.

What happened next, in my head was like something you would see in a movie. I could hear her voice screaming at me I could feel the angry and frustration building up and I could feel myself using all my power to push the anger down. It’s like her voice was in a distance and I was losing it.

What she did next was not unfamiliar to how she handled things. She took the plate that had hot eggs and waffles on it and threw it directly at me, spilling it all over me and the kitchen counter. (it was not uncommon for her, throughout my childhood and teen years, to grab the first closest thing she could and throw it at me. If she was close enough a good slap to my face was the next best thing. Although the last time she physically hit me was when she punched me in the stomach at a restaurant in Palm Springs back in the summer of 2007.)

So after the plate of food was thrown at me, this is what I recall happened next.

I rose my hand, half to block the egg that was being thrown at me and half to just throw my hands in the air in disgust at this woman.

She, in turn raised her arm and stepped back. At the time, I’m assuming she thought that with the raising of my arm, I was going to assault her.

She then stepped backwards and tripped over the counter stool and fell back, bruising her arms and leg.

That is what I saw…her story was different.

She said I pushed her, full force into the fireplace area causing her to fall.

I.did.not.push.her.

She told my sister this, my sister comes home from work telling me off. She is crying and whoa is me and then my dad comes in telling me off.

I’m astonished how she has the power to make others see what is not there.

I am the bad guy in that scenario. I grabbed my kid, got in my car and spent the next 3 days after that in San Diego, where I took my kid to the Zoo for the first time.

When I returned, to keep peace, I apologized. But never, not once, did I receive an apology from her for actually assaulting me with a hot plate of food. However, as I mentioned before, it was not uncommon for her, in the past to throw the first thing she could grab and chuck it at me. Or if she was close enough, a slap to my face worked best for her.

It was then, I realized, this woman will do and say anything to make her look white as snow….I see the game being played now.

Moving on, in April of 2011, I moved out of their house and into my own apartment. It was tough and money was non-existent but it was my home. It was a smooth move with little drama because it was necessary to get my son into a good school district and at least we agreed on that. Where my parents live is not the best of school districts or cities for that matter and on that  subject, I put my foot down and said I will get The Boy into the best school district I can. And I did.

The Relationship I have with my Mother today:

For the past two years, being in my own home and out of hers was an interesting transition for our relationship. She still believed that she could come into MY home, as if it was her own, and belittle me, put me down and berate me. She could not. This was MY home, my money paid for this home, I pay the bills, I AM THE MOTHER HERE.

mom-thanks-teaching-about-mothers-day-ecard-someecards

She did not like being out of the control box.

Even just as recently as last night the occasional belittling comes out. My parents finally came over to help with the last, oh, 5 boxes of my move (The Boy and I had already moved the bulk of 40+ boxes but hey, they came over for the last 5). She begins to put me down on why The Boy has allergies, why he was dirty (uh, we had just gotten home…showers hadn’t been taken yet), why his toe nails weren’t clipped.  *sigh*

I wanted to say, “none of your f-ing business…” but of course, could not. I bit my tongue. And when I say BIT MY TONGUE….I mean I literally bite my tongue. Sometimes to the point of bleeding.

She then walks around my home telling me how dirty everything is. Uh, we are moving…of course it’s a bit messy, believe me the mess drives me nuts. It’s just put down after put down. More tongue biting….

This was all last night. Granted, her visits are VERY far and few between because, well because I just can’t stomach her sometimes. So she rarely comes over. I usually go to her house or we all eat out at a restaurant. The latter is my favorite choice because in public, things stay neutral.

For the most part, I’ve learned to be more patient with her. She is getting older and more tired which is why her rants may be getting fewer. She does have a lot on her plate right now. She is taking care of her step-mother’s affairs such as bills and expenses. She has to deal with the dramas of her sisters and just recently one of her sisters died in a car crash.

She has to deal with my father’s failing memory. Although, I believe on that count she is becoming more and more impatient and the way she treats him sometimes is just downright rude. Last night, he was having trouble getting one word out (the speech has gotten worse over the past 6 months to the point where he can’t put 3 words together) and she hit his face. Now, not a full on slap but just tapped his cheek. I think she saw the look of horror on my face and explained that sometimes, if he can’t get the words out, she will tap his face. I ask if she does this in public and the disgust must have been visibly apparent on my face because she didn’t answer and just turned away.

*sigh*

To wrap this up, my mother is not my best friend. My best friend died of cancer in January of 2006.

As of right now, in this time and place in my life, my mother is a relationship I keep at arms length and am very wary about. I do not confide in her alot, if at all and I do not let her see that I can break down. She no longer sees me cry and I have mastered the ability to be able to walk away when she starts to pick a fight with me, something that continues to happen to this very day.

I love the woman, I always will. But let me picture it this way….

Our relationship is like Regina and Cora’s from Once Upon a Time. Regina loved her mother, Cora, but Cora was an evil witch who used magic to manipulate Regina. Yet, Regina ALWAYS returns to the mother who has betrayed her numerous times.

That is me. I will always have loyalties to my mother, she almost died giving birth to me. But will I ever respect her and confide in her…no. She never gave hugs. Not once, ever, has she said “I love you” but states that her actions show it. M…kay….

She is who she is because of her past and I am who I am because of her past. That is how it will go from here until one of us is no longer on this earth. And when that happens, we will both be at peace with each other.

Can anybody out there interpret dreams?

Last night, I had a disturbing dream which involved a certain arachnid that you see pictured below, the Black Widow

Black Widow, courtesy of Wikipedia

I sure wished it was the Black Widow from The Avengers because I would take Natalia Romanova over this mini monster any day. But alas, this dream was not about a beautiful red-head but a deadly spider with a red hourglass. 

Note: I apologize for any of those who cringe at the picture I posted. I’m cringing just posting it but I needed visual to get my point across.

a-divider

The Dream: 

I don’t remember how it started. In fact a lot of it was hazy except the Black Widow part. This spider was HUGE. About as huge as the picture you see here….no, it was a lot bigger. It was so huge, I could see its fangs. The thing would not leave me alone. It kept biting me and in my dream, I could feel the pain of the bite.

However, I guess I was pulling it off quick enough each time to not give it time to inject its venom into me after each bite, because it bit me numerous times and I was still able to pull it off each time. It bit me on the hand, forearm, neck, forearm again. After pulling it off each time it would bite, it would pounce at me again like Super Ninja Spider. This thing hated me.

The last thing I remember is pulling it off with its fangs still in me (I could see its fangs IN my skin) and throwing it to my mother, who was also trying to get it off me. That was the end. 

a-divider

What is the significance of that? I assume the introduction of my mother trying to save me from the gargantuan Black Widow was the fact that, last night, before this dream, I confided in her my unwillingness to get up and go to work on Monday and being in a very bad state of depression that day. I was apprehensive about saying it but sometimes my lack of moral support leads me to just blurt out things which will, in turn, make me very vunerable.  The minute it came out of my mouth, I regretted. My mother tends to thrive on my vulnerability and uses it to either put me down or boast about how she never would have done something like that because she was the perfect mother….blah…blah…blah.

But she was not judgemental about it. In fact, her face showed, concern. She even admitted that she sometimes needed a day during raising myself, my sister and later my half-brother, to just rest and re-group. Whoa what? She actually was not Super Mom and admitted to being….wait for it…HUMAN?!

For once, in our relationship, I felt safe confiding in her and not cringing waiting for her put downs and judgements to start. It was just for that one moment though as I will not count on that happening again. I don’t trust her and still am vunerable with her knowing that I needed a break. I now get to see how long it takes before this is brought up again and used as a tool to put me down. It’s happened before, I wouldn’t be surprised.

But back to my lovely 8 legged friend. What the heck would make me dream of a super large Black Widow spider biting me, not just once  but multiple times and even targeting me for destruction? Maybe the apprehension I felt telling my mother something that would leave me vulnerable, as I was vulnerable to a 50 lb spider?

Or maybe this spider represented depression. I have not one person to confide in when I get into a state of depression. In terms of the dream, no one to tear the spider off and throw it to. No help with my inner “spider”.

Not my sister, she is to wrapped up in her own life of owning her condo and getting her degree to even offer an hour of her time to help me move boxes.

Not my father, I could never confide in him or even have a conversation with him in the past due to him asserting the “I am the authority ” role if I had an opinion other than his own. I just never tried to talk to him much. And now that alzheimer’s is setting in making him inable to speak a full sentence or remember anything past 5 minutes, I keep our interactions to a minimum.

And never my mother, she would throw my weakness back in my face with an example of how wonderful a mother she was and I just have to turn away because she has a MUCH different view of my childhood as it was not wonderful at all.

I know one thing is for sure. Whatever that spider represented, it was something that should be small (as a spider is small) yet, it was portrayed as something rather larger (as it was 5 times as big in my dream than a real spider should be).

That’s a bit frightening.

April Fools! This isn’t your life!

This Easter was slightly blanketed with sorrow because of the tragic death of my aunt. The funeral was as any other. Loved ones spoke, wonderful photos were displayed on a PowerPoint screen. I saw many people from my past.

But it just leaves a numbness inside, I’m actually stuck. Yesterday, we had family all over at my sister’s condo. There we sat down with food and shared in the grief we felt at the recent loss we had. I listened, and did not participate.

I listened to my mother speak with her sisters on how we have to let my cousin grieve how she feels at losing her mother. My mother said we just have to comfort her. I listened and inside, I laughed.

Why the heck would I laugh as we were all trying to figure out how to comfort my cousin as she was falling into a hard depression since this happened? I laughed inside because, my mother was lying. She would not comfort her and tell her its ok to cry or that its ok to cry in front of your daughters and its ok for them to see that you are human and need to grieve.

Neither she nor my sister would say that. They would say NEVER show your children any emotion because you are supposed to be a rock hold especially as a mother and never feel any sadness or show emotion at all. They would say, get up and do what you need to do, don’t lay in bed covered in sheets of your own sorrow. They would say there is never time for depression and pills are a cop out.

Lies….just for show. Hence, I did not participate. I left with the excuses that the next day the boy started school after two weeks off for Spring Break and I had to get up for work. (I reality, the season finale of The Walking Dead and Season 3 premiere of Game of Thrones was about to start….needed to get home).

But don’t get me wrong. In essence, I’m so sorry that this tragic thing happened and now my aunt is gone, my cousins lost their mother and my mother and other aunts loss their sister. Her husband, who she had just re-married a few months ago, lost a wife. Just loss all around, which is never happy times. I was never really to close to her or my cousins but regardless; it is still a great loss.

On the way home, the boy demanded ice cream from Coldstone’s. Of course, he threw in my face that I HAD promised to get him this ice cream. Even though the premise of that promise was to get him to settle down and behave. Possibly bad parenting, I know, but there are some points when I throw “good” parenting aside and toss the kid the candy! Sue me!

Now I stare at my half frozen meal replacement shake. It is frozen because my mother suggested if I freeze it, it will be defrosted by lunch time…nope. When will I learn? So my meal replacement will be replaced by an actual meal, due to the bad timing of its frozen state.

I go back again to my neck and head which both feel like they are made of iron. The reason for this could be because I woke up extremely tired, even though I went to sleep at the normal time I always do. It could be because the alarm woke me up from a dream of someone actually loving me and wanting to be with me…but then I get jerked into the reality that it was only a dream and there is no love of my life, ever.

I wished I could say this whole entry was a April Fool’s but it isn’t. I wished I did wake up and it was “HAHA! Just joking! you do have a fantastic husband and a 3 bedroom house with a yard, instead of a 2 bedroom hole that you pay close $1250 a month for! And because of that fantastic husband, you get to stay home with your children and miss nothing of their growing process….”

This…is my life. Possibly a year round, lifelong April Fool’s Joke.

Sometimes, I go back in time

Sometimes, I go back in time with my thoughts.

When I was younger, I adored The Cranberries. (This reminds me I must get their newest album). I worshiped them from about 17 years old. Their lead singer, Dolores O’Riordan, had a booming strong voice. The album cover pictured above was the first album of theirs I ever owned and had Linger on it. That song made me realize…I could sing. I idolized this little woman’s voice and her energy on stage.

I still listen and sing to The Cranberries CD’s in my car. Then the thoughts and memories run rampant.

My best friend, Michelle,  bravely battled cancer for 10 years, from age 19 until she lost her battle to it, at age 29.

Yes, 29.

I was there the moment she passed and it was, truly a miraculous experience to see the soul actually leave someone’s body and the body become just an empty shell. That is the only way that I can explain it.

She shared my love for The Cranberries. I went to their concert when I was 24 in Los Angeles and she was supposed to go with me, but she was already full into her cancer and constantly was sick from the medications so at the last minute, she couldn’t go. I ended up going with my husband at the time.

I love singing to The Cranberries in my car. I love remembering the posters I had of them in concert above my bed in my dorm room when I was in college that showed how vibrant and how much fun Dolores was on stage. I remember how young I was when I adored them. How much I wanted to be in a band and just sing my heart out while three handsome men played behind me.

I do not like how, sometimes listening to those songs, makes me miss my best friend so damn much. She would have gone on adventures with me to this day if her body had allowed her. She was always so adventuresome. And we shared our forever adoration and love for The Cranberries.

My favorite songs, to date, from The Cranberries were Zombie and Ridiculous Thoughts (posted below) featuring a very young Elijah Wood, pre-Frodo days.

Sometimes, I go back in time and I miss my youth. I miss the people I knew in my youth for I will never see some of those people again and it is with regret and sadness that I look back.

I will forever love The Cranberries though.

Sad news today…

I wake up this morning to about 5 missed calls and 2 text messages from my sister. I panic. Of course my cell phone was on silent so that is why it didn’t ring.

I call her back and she tells me that my mother’s half sister, who lives up in Washington, was in a car accident yesterday and didn’t survive.

So this was my Aunt. She got really sick a few years ago and her heart stopped twice then but she survived. She JUST got re-married to her ex husband and they were both really happy.

My mother wasn’t doing to good yesterday as her other sister, also in Washington, was the one to call her and tell her.  The thing is, this happened in the morning yesterday, yet her husband wasn’t told until 8pm that night and her children were calling everyone trying to find out what was going on after she didn’t come home from work around 6pm.

Its unbelievable how life is. The cliche happened. This made me step back and think.

How can we step back and smell the roses and slow down when this world forces us to move so fast. We are late for work or something and we are rushing, not just in cars but always on our phones or some electronic. Now i have nothing against electronics, just sometimes they can hinder what they are supposed to help. But I do love my camera. So its a love hate thing.

But I know one thing I will always regret. Not choosing my mate wisely so that I was forced to be a single mother and HAVE, not want, HAVE to work, therefore missing pretty much 80% of the boy’s life.

I hate it.