Friday, November 06, 2009

Wonder Twin Powers Activate! - Form Of A Cold Hearted Bitch!

I am going to take a page out of my rockin' daughter's playbook. It comes from absolutely ignoring that 50 ton elephant in the room that is both asthmatic and flatulent, You begin by sticking your fingers in your ears and following the mantra "sunshine, lollipops. and the delicate first flowers of spring," and then, after several hours of chanting, you begin to hold your gracefully poised hands under your chin and sleepily blink as the the fairy dust gently rocks you to an imaginary land filled with love, and the milk of human kindness.

And no one is ever sad. Except when your children utter the occasional phrase of "How I really don't like myself". It's then the flatulent elephant makes his presence known and all of your years of telling your kid how amazing they are start to unravel before your eyes.

You can visualize the insomnia, you can empathize with it wholeheartedly. You can listen to their stories and instead of the fluffy clouds of sparkling purity that were once surrounding you in your attempt to "move on" and "get a life", you look down to see your children's hearts in your hands.

And you start to notice that flatulent elephant in the room. And you start to stick your fingers in the many whole of their hearts, trying to stem the bleeding.

The dutch boy had it easy.

But anger is a bad thing. It is wrong to look around at the people that played a part in this destruction for they will proclaim their innocence. They just wanted to do what they wanted to do.

Your kids were just collateral damage. And so were you. So buck up and start smelling those unicorn farts, cuz they smell like skittles. Buck up! Stop whining! Get the fuck over it. It's history. You're just playing the victim. You're a whiner and a loser and JUST PLAIN MEAN.

It's not right to ignore the strides that fucked up women make after they get done fucking up your life.

It's also cruel to be hateful to STBX's siblings when they were just trying to convince you how much he really loves his kids.

Words can be said to "come from the horse's mouth". They can also be said to "come from the horse's ass."

But if I state my belief that kids should come first and their protection should be paramount above all else and the definition of love does not include molestation and physical beating and emotional torment, I have the sneaking suspicion that I would start to get the doe eyed lecture myself.

"Just because he did these things to the kids, doesn't mean he doesn't love them."

There are no bad people. Just bad choices. Let's join hands and sing!

No, I do frame my arguments with anger. It's the anger that makes me a "sanctimonious bitch". It's the anger of incredulity at anyone that could choose their own self interests over their children. It's the anger of incredulity that a mother with a son could even attempt to defend a perpetrator because he had "had a hard life". It's easy to say that when dear Uncle Tracy wasn't playing "cho cho train" with your little boy in the dark. Don't worry, I'm sure if he would have, you would be able to separate out your feelings and still agree that poor Uncle Tracy really had his best interests in mind. I'm sure he loved him too...every night for years.

I don't give a shit about any of it. I care that every day, I try to find the words to say to make things better for my kids. I try to tell them that they are loved. That they are wonderful human beings. That above anyone else in the world, I will always have their back.

As Charles Baudelaire said, "I cultivate my hysteria with joy and terror"

And with a happy little Parker-esque spin on Eminem: "Look, I can't change the way I think/ I can't change the way I am/ but if I offended you, GOOD/'cause I still don't give a damn."


Anonymous said...

Is it wrong to assume that the kids might not be doing so well today? This week? This month? This year? AND what about you, how are you? Your anger has to be seen, felt and heard. So does your childrens'. You are NOT a whiner or Bitch. You are a loving Mother who is doing the best she can in a terrible situation. Anger can and does give us the strength to go on. Not until your demons are exercised will the anger subside to a throb. You and your children will heal in your own ways, in your own time and FUCK anybody who doesn't like it! I no longer have anger, from the torment that was my childhood, but it took YEARS and I did not have anyone to turn to. You and your children have each other and really that is all that matters.
Our Prayers are always with you and yours.
Tabatha (friend in Folsom)

Anonymous said...

Amen Tabatha.

P in Michigan.

Rebecca Hartong said...

I have to admit that there have been times over the past year, reading your ongoing story, that I've thought, "Man... she really should just MOVE ON. She really ought to GET OVER IT ALREADY."


I am an idiot.

Here I sit -- in my comfortable chair -- not only physically very distant from you, but also experientially distant. (After all, I've never been abused nor, as far as I know, has anyone in my immediate family ever been abused.) It's awfully easy to think this must be just like other "bad stuff" that happens to people. That it's just a matter of scraping your shit together and getting on with your life.

Then I read something like this: "Except when your children utter the occasional phrase of "How I really don't like myself"." And I realize just how stupid I can be about things.

I'm sorry for being so stupid. Thank you for reminding me of just how deep and lasting this sort of damage can be.

Anonymous said...

you need to get a grip and move on he is winning because you do not move on .he must lauch as he knows he still has you under his thum even locked up he wins

Debbie said...

I will move on, when I am no longer legally attached to this piece of shit. What people fail to realize is the whole legal battle that is going on behind the scenes. I have to DEAL with shit that perhaps, just perhaps, the internet knows nothing about.

It's a little hard to "move on" when I have to sift through a mountain of forms and paperwork to get this or that question answered every other day.

As soon as my divorce is final and our last name is what we have chosen, I will move on. The only time I'm gonna hear about STBX will be from the MN Dept. of Corrections when he gets out or when he moves anywhere.

And since he is a predatory offender, you'll hear about it too if he moves into your neighborhood.

I won't need to wallow in this shit to remind myself just how crappy it has all been.

I am the one, after all, who is walking in these shoes.