” I hope to arrive at my death late, a little in love and drunk.” Atticus

I just truly love that quote that popped up on my Pintrest one day

Anyway, summer is well underway. So far it is not a notable summer ( Thank You God.) Though In 5 weeks time, our electric box caught on fire, a meth addiction crashed into our electric pole busting it in his, then when we’d finally fixed that Batman flooded our upstairs while we were at work, causing structure damage.

Other than that, everything is going, well smoothly I suppose. I may not be my happiest right now, but I don’t think I’ll ever get that back. So now to accept, and adjust. Bad things have happened. The universe kinda took a shit on me for the past 3 or 4 years, so now I’ve got to figure things out from this point. Hopefully thing will stay boring and go smoothly.

” We made quite mess, babe.Its probably better off this way.

And I confess, Babe. In my dreams you’re touching my face and asking if I wanna try again with you.”

I am so tired of begging to be noticed. Of screaming to get my words heard. I am a mother,a wife. My words, my rules, should be scared. It’s not as if I am blasphemous about anyone’s rights or religion, I don’t say about Jonathan Kent’s personal life, I never come right out and ask if the Penguin is gay, I only speak in positive reinforcements to the heroes, and I don’t even question the hard no.

Yet at the end of the day, I’m the bad guy. I enforce baths, homework, and Graduations. I keep in touch with teachers to know what snacks to send, what forms need sign, and how much money we owe. I organize vacations, call in ADHD meds, rearrange my work schedule so I am off for counselling appointments as well as physical therapy for the Penguins broken foot. I schedule the animals vet appointments.

And somehow I have developed a problem with alcohol, and people wonder why? I don’t drink while the littles are up, and I function fine. However, its enough of a problem that people ask me if I am sober (ok 1 person, multiple times) before beginning a conversation. I want to laugh in their faces. No I am not sober! And even if I wasn’t drunk, I’d be sedated in lala land with nerve pills, so which version do ya want?

I’m just so over this life. I really am. I want disappear. Literally. If I woke up somewhere else tmr, and knew that at a certain fate I’d go home and my kids would be taken care of in the meantime, i would take that deal in a second. And do you know why?

When my biological mother died, who i found, I told every aunt cousin and friend I had, I love you because I needed to hear it back. Finally about 8 hours later one of my aunts said it back.

When my daughter was deemed incompatible with life, nobody in my family acknowledged what had happened. They made me go through with a wedding, 3 days later.

When I was in labor with Batman and had a placental abruption, no one was there when I woke up. A nurse. She told me all the stats on him, but couldn’t tell me the color of his hair or who he looked like. It was 4 hours before I saw someone who wasn’t medical. And that’s only because I sent a nurse after Jonathan Kent because I was losing it.

When Batman had colic, I called an aunt and told her I hadn’t slept more than 45 mins at a time in days, and I was too exhausted to pick him up, and Jonathan Kent had gone back to work, she told me it was my problem and to work it out.

When I was pregnant with Robin, I was on bedrest for 16 weeks. No one listened to the dr and I never got bed rest. I got picking up, chasing, changing a 40lb 2 year old.

Two minutes after I walked in the door after coming home from the hospital with Robin, I had to change Batmans diaper, where he preceeded to kick me in the stomach.

There are many more things I can throw out at my family. Calling me 4 minutes after mother/aunt has passed demanding to take her property.

Asking me to masterbate for you. Asking me for insane amounts of money.

I dont just think my family has taken advantage of me, I think they see me as a walking ATM machine they can order what they want, and to help with the consequences.

This goes for all my family, super heroes, husband’s and ex husband’s.

No one sees mothers. They don’t see the dishes or laundry or dirt in the sweeper after it’s ran. They don’t measure the little amount of sleep. They don’t see the time I put into figuring out childcare.

They don’t see. And they don’t care. Because its a motherfucking man’s world and I’ve got a vagina.

“We all change, when you think about it.We’re different people through all our lives.and that’s okay, that good,

As long as you keep moving. Aslong as you remember all the people you used to be.”

Oh how I do love Peter Pan. The boy who never wanted to grow up, dead or not. And Wendy, the girl who needed to believe so much, she flew.

My dreams for the past few months, have been scattered fragments of my time with Van Helen. From the beginning on a hilltop.  Or the ending on the very same couch we used to cuddle aganist.

However last night, the dream was long, and I was lead through several scenes. All of the dream, I was trying to get to Van Helen. We were on the phone, we were trying to coordinate how to get to one another. There was a parry scene, there was a teenage scene, between us with the fast and furious movie played in the background.

There was an adult scene, showing that each of us had responsibilities we had to tend to. Then finally, we made it to each other. It was passionate, and gentle, and love I had never felt before when we finally finally were together.

We talked about our families. He told me about his business. I told him about my house. It was the kind of conversation 2 adult lovers would have. In my dream, we went through every single way we could be together. But neither of we’re willing to compromise about things.

There was a moment, i was sitting in his lap. His head on my chest, and my head ontop of his. I said I love you so much, and he said it back. But then I pulled his face to mine, said but its not ever us is it. He shook his head no. And shortly after I woke up.

I feel this is Somehow a joining of our subconscious. Idk how much you all believe about Astral projection or joining of dreams. But I feel like the signals and energy I have been sending out in the past few months have finally got enough power that we met.

Or subconsciously.  I think I may have finally, got the closure I was looking for. We love each other. We were that love for one another. Yet, it can’t be.  And now too much time has passed. We’re different people who took different paths. Not all roads lead to the same castle, Jon Snow.

“So this is what I’m up aganist”

You know everyone has that one person they cant live without? Their person, best friend, partner in crime, whatever you wanna call it. That person almost becomes like an appendage because you rely on them so damn much. Every decision is ran by them, basically every minute of your day is replayed to them, and that is just useless because you’ve already spent the day texting back and forth. They are the person you call to help hide the body. The first person you call when you hit the lottery. Or when you find out your marriage is over. They are your person.

Over the last few months, I feel like I’ve been shut out of everyone who matters ( children excluded) To me lives. Not shut out exactly. But expendable. I’m someone they confind in or talk to because I am there. Not because they need to tell me. I’m a therapist. I sit on the couch and list to their shit, and say what I think back, then they leave. Sometimes they reply to the things I have said, and sometimes I’m just left on read.

I’ve watched, closely, over the last 4 or 5 months how people in my life treat me and respond to me. The 2 best friends I thought had, they never bother to reply to my messages. And if I do try to tell them something about my life, they turn it back into them. Even Captain America does it. Leaves me on read, doesn’t reply, or acknowledge or notice.

I can suggest group plans and either nobody will respond, or everyone has other things to do. With the exception of one group of family friends that I have been friends with for 15 + years, no one ever seems to remember I exist for outings. I am very grateful for this family, but I’d like to know how I became a total outcast with the rest.

Processing all this, and figuring out how people really feel about me has been one of the hardest things I’ve had to come to terms with. I know people grow up and move up, that’s Natural. But with these two I’m talking 20+ years of friendship. Now all of our convenersations are superficial and lacking depth or emotions. If I had some issue I needed to discuss or vent about, I guess I’d just let it eat away at me because no one would give a damn.

We had a pretty horrible 3 weeks of problems going on at my house. Our electric panel caught fire and had to be replaced, displacing us for 11 days. None of my friends or family checked on us. As soon as we got back in the house, 2 hours later a drugged up driver crashed intonmy front yard ( 20 ft from where the kids and I were playing), and snapped my electric pole in half. I sent pictures to my “friends”, none of them checked on us. Then on Thursday I found out that my (stay with me) step father who legally adopted then abondded me when my mom died, his oldest son, died. I found out from Facebook. I told my 2 “people”, and while one did seem concerned and sorry, the other didn’t give a damn.

I’m a loss of what to do, or what happened. It really really fucking sucks to know, without a doubt, that if you just disappeared, it would take months for people to notice you were gone.

I swam parallel to the shore

My kids, Capt. America, Jonathan Kent and I embarked on a vacation to Panama City Beach last week. The ocean was amazing, breath taking. From the first scent of that humid salty breeze in Ponce DE Leon, I was immediately relaxed. Qnd of course when the heroes saw the Gulf for the first time, I cried.

They first saw the Alantic Ocean, at Outer Banks, right after my mother/aunt died. That was such a cathartic experience for me. Seeing them react to the ocean for the first time, it’s something I can’t describe. It’s one of the top 3 moments in parenting I’ve experienced.

Watching them take in the Gulfs blue waters, so clear they could see their feet, it was something else. They were able to walk to the buoys during low tide. They found baby ghost crabs, hermit crabs, live sand dollars and a host of fish. They had the chance to swim in coral reefs, and be in area known for sharks and dolphins. ( we didn’t see anytbing). They ate shrimp, and other seafood for the first time. They bulit huge sandcastles and jumped off things into the never ending water.

It was dream worthy

But behind all that I had to fight every second with Jonathan Kent. I had to explain things to qla very drunken Capt. Qnd yes it’s vacation and they should get to have fun and relax. But leaving me as the responsible 24/7 is not nice either.

It did reset my sleep schedule which I am thankful for.

But now I am home. And I don’t have the salty humid air qnd waves crashing to lull me to sleep at night. I donr have that sunset to set all my worries free and end my day at peace.

I have a home that I love and resent.

I have kids who I adore, but sometimes I don’t knownhow to handle.

I have 1 family as family, maybe 2 friends and indont know how to communicate with them. I’m letting them slip away and waving as they go.

I’m so lonely and indont know where to turn. Everyone I care about is 100% tired of my shit. If I told them that in the 48 hrs, I had thought of suicide as an option, they would just look at me and shrug their shoulders because they don’t believe I’ll do it.

And that’s the worst thing you can do to someone in my shoes. Anytime it is mentioned to you, you need to take breath talk them down and then call 911. Suicide ideation is not something to take lightly, bc it is the first step in them taking their own lives.

However, family and friends get tired of. They always think this will be the same as last time but maybe it’s not.

The one time I tried, really tried to commit suicide, I was ignored. I was left alone to fix myself. I lied my way out of help. I went back to unsafe environment. And it’s because no one believed me.

So believe when sometime tells you they are unable to get to shore. That they are trying to swim parallel but they can’t keep their head up. Listen. It doesn’t matter how many hours you’ve listened before, because you are a lifeline. You are an o2 tank giving them air. You are a dialysis machine keeping the kidney running. You may not think that listening to them ramble isn’t help anything, but I promise it is.

“A long night, spent with your most obvious weakness.

I start shaking at the thought.”

Whe I was 19 to 24, I was pretty wild to say the least. And somewhere,in the MySpace vault of last decade, is a picture of me TinkerBell captioned with this.

Honestly, it’s a great picture of us both. And if I could gain access to it, I would print it out. She’s not in Tink custome ( that comes later) but were sitting on a mid level stair landing. With a homemade disco ball. The light caught us at just the right time. I am cracking up laughing, holding a bottle of Patron. And She’s telling me a story, with the back of her hand resting on my hand, so it doesn’t it hit the wall.

This girl was probably my soulmate, a soulsister. Someone I seen at parties and loved dearly. And it was was always us if we were both there. Standing on tables, clad In underwear tight shirts and short skirts, or sheets demanding everyone else to strip down or find a toga. Or holding up hair in the toliet. We often fells asleep in a rocker glider in the back yard where someone would deposit in a bed.

Then one day, I was with Jonathan Kent. And I couldn’t go to those parties anymore. Tinkerbell and I tried to continue our friend,but bars don’t like it when you take off your clothes and apparently neither do police.

We didn’t keep in touch after the last great charade, and I wonder what happened to her. She was a girl after my own 22 year old soul. Loving, wild, free. We didn’t discriminate. I miss you TinkerBell.

I pray there are like you. Who see souls and hearts. Who love without reason. Wherever you needed up, my dear girl, I am proud of you.

You start shaking at the thought”.

Where do I go from here?

This is a question I have been asking myself for the last year. I’m stuck in purgatory. Even though I am going the basic motions to keep my kids safe and healthy, I’m not mentally present. If I’m not asleep, I’m on my phone. If I’m not on my phone I’m laying on the couch, pretending to sleep. When they make the smallest commotion, I’m yelling at them to be quiet.

It’s gotten to the point that Batman now tells Robin, stop Moms not paying attention, or quit we’re going to get yelled at. That makes me feel so guilty, and so sad for them. But I just burrow further and further into my hole.

We are supposed to go on vacation in a week. And I am so completely dreading it. I dont want to spend extended periods of time in the car with them. I don’t want to be cramped in a 2 bedroom condo. Even though I will be at my happy place, the ocean, I just don’t even have the interest or energy to get excited about that.

My feelings of worthlessness and nothingness really scare me. And as much as I may try to reach out to anybody, no one seems to care. No one gives a damn. I’m out at sea. I’m stuck in a tsunami, and I’m not even bothering to swim parallel. I. Just adrift.

Lean on me, when you’re not strongAnd I’ll be your friendI’ll help you carry onFor it won’t be long’Til I’m gonna needSomebody to lean on

My best friends mom died today. And instead of transporting myself back to a living room in 2005 or hospice room in 2017, I took a breathe. I texted her that I loved her, that I loved her family, that I was so so sorry, and that I would buy them clean underwear if they needed.

Because as much as this triggered me. As much as I could face myself in her shoes, I wasn’t walking in her Nikes. I was wearing grey Converse, so her reaction was different than mine. I held back every notion to say this is what you should ( the only recycled advice I gave her was to rest.) I asked what she needed. What did her kids, husband need? Food, laundry, dog sitting, grocery shopping how could.i help.

I wanted her to know, I wasn’t there for social media likes, because I didn’t post a thing about it there and.thos blog is pretty damn anonymous. I didn’t message any of her friends to say hey I think we should do this. So tomorrow I’ll go and order her a pillow or something ( they are not doing a funeral showing) and I will donate to her bill. Because I love her.

We Have the kind of friendship where.we hid money in our wallets. Then if she needs it or the kids need it we have it. It doesn’t matter to us who paid for what pictures, so long as they got paid for.

She is the half to my whole. The one I hold nothing from. Who will be with me and the boys until she can’t. She’s my safety, I’m her wild, and we are both O’Hana

If I’m flounder you’re sebastian. If I’m stich your lilo. If I’m rapunzel your flynn. Your my soul mate, my other half, my lexie grey, or Christina yang. I love you beyond however many starts there are. To infinity qnd beyond.

Ladies and gentlemen

I have been featured on another blog. I am beyond freaking excited. That I got that attention, validation.

Thank you, every single reader. Every subscriber. Every like or comment. Thank you so so much.


“Hows it gonna be when I dont know you anymore?

Because I don’t care, how it’s gonna be.”

I think if more people were honest about their lives, they would admit that they hate them or are very unsatisfied with them. Some would say they feel stuck. They may admit to resenting their families.

Me? I would admit that there is nothing in my life that makes me happy or look forward to. I love my kids, and they are what is keeping me from slitting my wrists or taking a handful of pills. But they don’t make me happy. I go through the days, smiling at the right times, pretending to care about people who truly don’t give a damn about me. I’m unappreciated at work. I’m not even noticed at home unless I’m screaming about nobody listening to me, or we run out of some kind of food.

I can have a whole conversation with Jonathan Kent or Capt. America, they will be too busy looking at their phones, not acknowledging my presence. Just for me to finish my conversation, then they look up and ask me a bunch of questions and I have to explain it all again.

With the boys, the most basic instruction can turn into a fight. And that’s my part, that shows my bad parenting, my lack of patience.

It’s just I have no freaking drive to do anything. I don’t care enough to clean. I don’t care enough to put laundry away so I just keep buying new underwear and socks for everyone. I don’t care enough most days to take a fucking shower. The fact that I am able to get the boys in the tub each night and in clean clothes amazes me.

I dont care about my life, I don’t. I am just here. Taking up space. Besides my children, I’m worthless. Somewhere all this journey of mine, I have become meaningless and irrelevant. I’m someone everyone used to know, used to care about. And now I don’t care enough to try and revive these friendships or make new ones. I have nothing left of myself to give. Everything, the love, the goodness, the laughter, its gone. It’s been taken. I gave it away and nobody helped me refill.

Today this week month have not been good for me. I desperately need someone to show me they love me and care. But I am pretty sure I know how it’ll turn put.