Bad Day Bad Life

I woke up this morning with the thought that my life was stolen from me. Everyrthing that’s happened before has led me to this point.

I hate to do this because there’s nothing I can about what’s already happened but it’s so difficult to fell motivated to lift myself out of this because I feel so hopeless.

Yesterday I had another emotional flashback over something B did. I flew off the handle once again and once again it was the same old pattern. I yelled, he sat with his eyes closed, indicating it was too loud for his head and ears and after I calmed down I apologized.

And after I apologized he said, “I should know better.”  Just like a good little abuse victim, he blames himself.

Last week I showed him a video by Richard Grannon where at the end he talks about how a significant other can help, can deal, can cope. In fact before that I had B and I had a conversation and in that conversation I told him to please set boundaries. This is exactly what Richard said.

I told B exactly what to say. “I understand you’re upset/angry but I’m not going to have this conversation until you calm down.”

I pointed out how that line draws a boundary for himself, but lets me know that he’s open to conversation, just not while be disrespected.

Well, he didn’t do it.

I’ve approached him with these ideas before as well.  I mean, I know I’m responsible for my behavior, which is why I have sought for so long for help and finally getting it. But it doesn’t get fixed over night. And the fact is, I need his help.

But he won’t help, or isn’t capable of it. So I’m alone in this, even though I live with someone. And besides that, I’ve only proven to myself once again that it’s a waste of time having these conversations with him.

It’s lonelier living with someone who can’t get involved and help with such a severe problem than it is living alone.

I was thinking about how sick we are as I did my breakfast dishes and thought, one reason for it is that there are no consequences. No consequences for me when I start the yelling and berating. And none for him when he continues with his apathy and lack of care and incapability of communication.

As soon as I ask him how he feels about something he clams up and says he doesn’t know.

We went through a period of time where he wasn’t paying certain bills and I found out incidentally because I happened to be looking for something in the file box where they were kept. He’d gone months making his debt worse and saying NOTHING to me.

That’s worthy of getting the fuck out and never coming back. But did I do that? Nope.

No emotion, no communication, no presence. I can’t even go to sleep when I want because I’m afraid he’ll burn the place down.

I feel so trapped.

Update On Ozzy (Kind of)

I had to cancel Ozzy’s vet appointment this morning, which was scheduled for Monday. There’s no money for it right now.

A lot of shit is hitting all at once with this month’s bills and some extra shit as well.

Without getting too much into detail about our finances, the money just isn’t there unless we go without toilet paper and Ozzy needs food.  No point in the vet if he can’t even eat.

Why Do Some Get Bullied and Others Don’t ?

Here’s another edited post I had on “private” for a while. Before, I had titled it, “I Have a Question.” I changed it to match the content better.

It’s so interesting going back to read stuff I wrote some time ago.

Sleeping Tiger

Question on humanWhy does it seem that the majority of those abused at home as children are abused and bullied outside the  home too? I’m not talking about later in life when we’re drawn to those who abuse us or some who were abused as kids become abusers themselves. I’m talking about when we’re still kids being beaten up in every way imaginable made to feel like we don’t matter because we’re dismissed, at home, only to go out into the world and be bullied by others.

I remember being called a cry baby by a few other kids when I’d cry in kindergarten . These were probably the kids eating paste, but they weren’t crying and they were laughing at those who were, so they must be cool. I was 4 when I started kindergarten.

Later, I remember being made fun of because I wasn’t good at kick ball in gym class…

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I relate so much to this. Good thing I enjoy being alone now. I never used to but that has changed. However I do get quite lonely sometimes, even when I’m with others.

Comments closed here, please visit the original post.

no face woman

You hear their words
tell you
‘I love you’
You know they mean it,
some more than others.

But how can you tell them
what a judgemental,
you really are.

That you resent their chatter.
Resent their well meant words.

How can you tell them,
you just want to be left alone,
more often than not.
Conversation is effort.
Politeness is effort.
So much more effort
than it seems to be
for other people.

Why is it so difficult for you
to get through a week
without needing complete silence.

That by Friday,
you are so exhausted
with it all,
that all you want to do
is curl up
and speak to nobody.

How can you tell your partner
that you long so much
for him to understand.
To hold you,
to tell you that you’re valued,
attractive, even.

But how can you expect
anyone else
to create…

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Dear Sister

This is an old post but one of my favorites as far as getting my anger out about the abuse from my family. Seems my sister was the ring leader. She is no doubt the most narcissistic of any of us.

I used the words sperm donor and egg donor out of anger. I do not generally like to de-humanize people, including my parents. As I edited, I thought about changing it, but decided to leave it because it’s raw. I’m still angry and hurt by it all. I don’t expect to ever “get over” (and what does that mean anyway?) such treatment. But I am working on forgiveness, particularly toward my parents. And for that it’s a matter of getting through it not over it.

I’d also like to say I did not send this letter. I don’t recommend it but everyone has their own decision to make. I decided against that option.


Sleeping Tiger

Fuck you!


Ok now that I have your attention…or maybe it did the opposite and you have no interest in reading further because of the aggressive profanity. Well I don’t give a shit because this is a Christmas present to MYSELF! And quite frankly…Fuck you! sums it up quite well anyway.

I got your invitation to your annual Christmas open house. And my RSVP is a big fat “NO” and a “How dare you even send one to me.”

Stop sending me invitations. Stop sending Christmas cards. Move on and pretend you don’t know me because you don’t deserve to know me. Your cruelty, abuse and narcissistic triangulations, manipulations and gas lighting is something I’m wide awake to and I no longer have any desire to see you, talk to you or PRETEND that everything is fine and fuckin’ dandy.

How dare you send me an invite as if everything…

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Rainy Day

I took a photo of the tree just outside my window. I couldn’t get the essence of it if I hung out the window and aimed so I had to take it from inside. Which meant the frame of the window was a problem. So I cropped it.


Since it is raining, and I love the sound of the rain, I wanted to capture that as well. So I took a video. I have always loved the rain. My mother has told me I’m weird because of this. Ha! I’m weird anyway, but I’m happy to be different.

You can still see the rain a little and the sound is much more peaceful. At about 1:25 you can see a bird fly by.

The second video is a little later with heavier rain and a slight different view.

Listen to them together!


Before Oz there was Cali. She was a cute little cat.

She used to raise her paw when she wanted you to pet her.


You can see the date this was taken with a ‘regular’ camera. We’d only been in the house this was taken at for 5 or 6 months. (So long ago!) She is so cozy on that blanket.



Caught her in a hunched position just as she was going in for some grass.