I’m so lonely this morning. Maybe it’s just my meds causing this feeling…I just don’t know. I told Head Doc that I didn’t feel lonely anymore. I told him, quite confidently, that I am alone, but not lonely. That was not 100% true. But, I wanted it to be. I’ve been trying very hard to make it so.

At the end of the day…each solitary motherfucking day…I am both; alone and lonely. I suppose it’s my own fault. I’ve sought anonymity for some time now. I just wanted to disappear, so I did. Not that I’m some celebrity, or even very popular…it’s just that I found that the people closest to me aren’t necessarily good for me. So much so that my relationships had grown so toxic that I wanted to die. Still do. It’s an everyday struggle not to put one in my brain. In any case, I decided that I needed to just go away, to the extent that I could. I have always been lonely, so this is nothing new, but I didn’t think leaving who I was behind would take the toll that it has. I only do business in my legal name, even though my alias IS my real, real, name. The one given to me at birth. Anyone with any drive to do so could find me. As it is, my youngest son is the only person on this planet that even knows where I actually live. lol! OMG, I sound so paranoid. But I had to defend myself, somehow, and this is the way I chose, for better or worse. Let me say this: Those toxic relationships were NOT one-way streets. I accept my responsibility in them. But the cycles would not stop and I didn’t know how to disengage any other way but in the way that I have. That’s all.

I’ve been trying to overcome agoraphobia for some time now. There are many days that I cannot even make myself walk out the door to go for a drive. If it weren’t for Walmart Grocery Pick-up and drive-thrus, I’d starve. I’d also be unbearably sober. Head Doc says I have severe PTSD, which is a diagnosis that I don’t think is right for a civilian to have. When he first told me, I told him that. I said that’s for soldiers and I’m no soldier. He said that thirty years of abuse by my husband was justification for his diagnosis, which, in terms of my behavior and state of mental health, is appropriate. Even so, I think it should be called something else if you haven’t fought in a war. He wants me to go to AA. He thinks that I may be able to function around alcoholics, who are my tribe, basically. There’s nothing I don’t know about drunks and how they think and the terrible things they do. In fact, I hate them so much that I became one. lol! Imagine that…

I think that another reason I don’t want that diagnosis is that it reminds me of what, exactly, I have been through over the thirty years before Exish died, nevermind my childhood. He only hit me a few times in all of that time. But, he’d yell at me. Every day. Just scream and yell and turn the furniture over and scare me. Then…grand finale…he’d spit in my face. Just like that. One minute, he’s shaking, an inch away, then he’d spit in my fucking face like I was nothing. I’d have knocked the shit out of him, but I never knew what might happen. My entire life was spent getting yelled at and talked to like I didn’t matter. Working for my mother wasn’t the good time you’d think it might be. She didn’t treat me any better than Exish did. She was mean and demanding and just kept wanting more, even though I was operating at 100% while working in a tremendous amount of pain. Then, it was home to Exish. After a round, or ten, with him, I’d hit the road to the fucking dope house looking for our youngest. The days never seemed to end and, to me, it was all just yesterday. In reality, it was almost ten years ago that Youngest got off drugs and 3/12 years since Exish died. At the end of his life, he was so doped up that he had little energy to flip furniture over and scream much. He took to sitting in his favorite chair with an AK next to it. All he had to do was tap it for me to know it was time to see things his way. I still don’t know why he didn’t just kill me. I think he knew it would’ve been doing me a favor.

So, basically, that’s my life: Trying to figure out the future and shake the past. Isolating so that I don’t have to pile on to what’s already there. I do talk to my mother daily, but only as much as I want to. She has no idea how I feel, except for the few things I say now and then. Unlike me, she has a bullet-proof ego, so nothing I ever say will matter. All this bullshit and I’m 52 years old. I shouldn’t be this way at this time in my life. If things don’t start to line out soon, I’m going to move on, so to speak. Anything would be better than the life I’ve had. Especially the last twenty years. I was happy for about ten, when things weren’t so bad that I couldn’t cover them up and make things look nice to the outside world. Once that ended…well… Anyway, it is what it is.

Peace out, girl scouts…

Jenny, Jenny 

Dear Jenny,

Remember how you told me that the only reason my husband wouldn’t divorce me to be with you was because he didn’t want me to get one square inch of his land? Guess what… I now own all 357,540,480 square inches! 
Just thought you’d like to know. 

That Crazy Bitch 🙂

PS… That land was an inheritance. He knew I couldn’t touch it if I wanted to! 

Big City Blues

It’s a lazy Sunday afternoon here in Tiny Town. I haven’t left the house in a couple of days…haven’t been sleeping. Pain level is ridiculous lately. The only thing that really helps is having a drink, or ten. I have a strict rule: NO drinking and driving. Great rule. Sucks when applied, though.

I’m sitting at my desk. I made the small front bedroom into an office. This is the third time I’ve sat down to write since February, when I moved here. There’s a window in front of my desk. These few visits I’ve made to my office have been quite educational relating to what goes on ’round here. It’s very quiet, and I feel safe here. Although, I think I may be living in the hood lol But, allow me to be clear…the ‘hood’ here in Tiny Town is NOTHING like the hood in other places. In Toxic Town, this would be considered middle class. IF there is any sort of real hood type neighborhood in this town, I’ve yet to find it. But there are gangs and such. We have Crips here. I’m ok with that. I don’t much like Bloods, as they seem a bit more shifty to me. Not that I have extensive knowledge lol I’m just an old lady, after all.

The first time I sat down here to write, I noticed that there is a lot of back and forth going on around this place. Young men in do-rags always walking from here to there…that sort of thing. I don’t think there are many white folks here. That doesn’t bother me, either. I just wanted a place to disappear into, and I found it. In fact, only Jay knows how to find me. Nobody else in the family even has my address. If anyone gives my number a Google, they’ll find that it’s under the name of the husband of the crazy woman who had the phone number before me. That feels good, for some reason. Hell, I don’t even get mail here. I just enjoy being invisible…disappearing from anyone I don’t want in my life. Anyway, like I said, I feel safe here.

Uh oh…Cops are here. Hmmm…They just rolled through, it looks like. (‘Rolling through’ means pulling up, then doing at least a three point turnaround). This parking lot is so tiny they couldn’t be inconspicuous it they tried. I wonder what they were looking for. They missed the dope man. Good GAWD. I don’t know how that idiot stays in business. He usually rolls up on Saturday afternoon, bass rattling the windows. This skinny blond across the way, in the ‘condos’, strolls out, leans on his car, then starts tossing her hair from side to side and sort of shaking her scrawny ass. Every. Fucking. Saturday. He caught me taking in the freak show one Saturday while I was sitting in my car, getting all my crap crammed into my purse. I just smiled…he nodded. Whatever.

The only people here that bother me, (not physically…just…emotionally, maybe?), are the meth heads down the way. They live down by the mailboxes and dumpster. They sit outside a lot…they have kids. They’re very dirty, one and all.  You can tell the kids need things; clothes…food…a bath. I worry about them. I know what it’s like when your parents are fucking psychos, dedicated to their own misery; so much so that it spills over into your little life. Anyway, they’re why I always make sure that I mark through anyting with my real name on it. Tweakers. I’d rather they not know who I am.  I’ve had my identity stolen twice this year. That’s enough for me, thanks.

I just realized how paranoid I sound. Hmmm. Maybe I am a little paranoid. Maybe I just need my peace, as much as I ever have any. It’s powerful…taking control of your world…only allowing who you want into it. It is to me. Powerful, I mean. Because I’m just tired. I’m tired of having people in my life that I would rather just turn away from. I’m just here working on myself…trying to get from today to tomorrow and, maybe, on to the next day. I never really know how I’m going to feel about that, so I take it as it comes, I guess.

If you ever get to know my real name, it means that I puposely want you to know it. To know me. There are quite a few people on my FB that I’d like to tell, but haven’t had occassion to. I think they probably know who they are, anyway. People who are special to me know it, I think. I hope. I dropped off FB for a long while. I don’t really know why, exactly. I think it’s because I had nothing good to say. I’ve been torturing myself about Bennie’s death for the better part of 3 1/2 years now. It’s getting better. I think that I felt a lot of guilt because I didn’t force him to go to rehab. If I had, the last years of his life may have been happy ones. But you can’t make anyone do anything they don’t want to do. Not even a lil bit.

Here lately, when I feel like crying over Bennie, I remember that he tried to kill me two weeks, to the day, before he died. He messed with my brakes like he was Tony fucking Soprano or something. Even Mr. Mike, my mechanic, still thinks he was trying to off me. lol! OMG! I wish I could resurrect him long enough to slap him upside his head! Yep…attempted murder….the stuff romance is made of! LOL! Seriously, though…it does curl my toes a bit. You know, right after I moved here, I found a card that Bennie had bought. It was very pretty. Iniside, he’d written a lil note. It read: ‘I don’t know how you’ll take this, but I can’t live without you. I miss you more and more every day. Lovya, Ben.’ At first, I cried when I read it. I thought he’d written it to me. But, he hadn’t given me a card in a lil minute. This one was brand new. Also, it was signed ‘lovya’. WTF? He’d given me a shit ton of cards in 32 years and always signed them ‘I Love You’. Also, I never called him Ben. I called him Bennie, and that’s how he signed every single card he’d ever given me. Ahhhhh….The light dawns. That card was to that bitch, Jenny. Yep, yep. Jenny Jenny Jenny. Soon to be the receipient of the ‘What The Fuck Happened To Your Teeth?’ award. She took time to school me on my marriage after Bennie, who she was fucking, died. That takes a shit ton of nerve in my book. In any case, I don’t hold grudges, but that card sort of put the Jenny situation over the edge. She doesn’t know that I know where she lives, works…etc. BUT, I know that she wouldn’t know who I was if I was punching her in the mouth with a pair of brass knuckles. Sooooo….there’s THAT. lol! OMG…I’m getting a lil ragey. Better make something to eat. You wouldn’t like me when I’m hungry….



Mother, Pray… 

​If you stand in my way

I swear by God that I will end you

I will deliver you, with a smile, to Hell’s bloody belly

And I will stay just to watch you burn

I give you my word

I will live and die with that promise on my lips

Till one of us has taken her leave

You’ve taken too much

You’ve caused your trouble

And you have visited your pain upon my head

Beneath these black skies, this very night,

I vow to keep my word to you

Mother, pray

A new day found her, once again

And woke her from her bloody dreams

For a moment, she was grateful
She felt a bit of peace
The phone rang and she spoke
Happily, to a friend
She hung up, and he never knew
That she was praying for the end
Loved ones are a stumbling block
If you’ve not yet lost your mind
You want to be there for them, always
But they are stealing precious time
Because you worry for their hearts
You cannot seek your dream
To leave this filthy prison
Made of flesh and blood and pain
Forever solitary in this life God gave to you
How do you give it back to Him
How do say it’s not enough
How do you tell Him that you never wanted
What He gave to you with love
They say that God doesn’t make mistakes
But that’s difficult to believe
Because, a half century and one year ago, He gave life to me

Abaddon Arises

Manic me runs through flowery pastures

Rain soaked and laughing

I bounce about, beautiful words sing themselves inside my head

I am glowing

Radiant from the life that flies through my soul at the speed of light

The world is a better place

I cannot stop smiling…


Every up has its down

And I descend quickly

Darkness falls upon my heart as Abaddon arises within

The Great Destroyer has come to eat my soul

And, that, He does

Devouring every good thing; burying my joy in the unmarked grave that is my life at that moment 

Every breath draws me closer to that from which there is no escape

And I die to the blue skies

Embracing the thunder that pounds away at my heart 

Believing every terrible thing that screams its way into my head 

Flowery pastures be damned, for Hell has won this day 

Sealed With A Kiss

I wanna play with you

Laugh like kids and runaway with you

You be Sid and I’ll be Nancy

Shining our stars down on the downtrodden masses

They’ll envy our love as we scale Life’s skyscrapers

We’ll fly, minds melting one into the other

Blazing out into that other place

Eternally entwined 

Sealed with a kiss

The Game

You wouldn’t like me if you knew me

Bet that

I’m so far from who you think I am

That a million mile journey would not reveal, to you, my face

You watch me in silence

I smile

As I see your curiosity taking over

I’m looking back at you

But you don’t notice

Because you are captivated 

And so I advance

Smile, in tact

Throughout sunny days and stormy nights

I dance in your head

Your pursuit thrills me

You are in my head, as well

And I am in love with this game

Knowing that, finally, I will prevail

And, at the last, you will have never seen my true face

Bet that