::Let Me Clear My Throat::

I am So. Frackin'. HAPPY! Just being able to truthfully say that is a huge deal for me, but seriously.  It's like I got a dump tank worth of happy just dropped in my lap overnight and I opened it and it exploded on me.  Holy crap...I'm lightheaded. 2012 was not exactly a banner year for me. Granted, it had it's ups, so I'm not knocking anything, but as for the personal stuff, yeah, not so awesome.  I spent most of it with a painted on smile, but inside I was pretty much crushed all the time.  I was crazy lonely, and the outlook on my love life was pretty grim. I wrote it here so many times that I got sick of saying it and wishing for it to change, and after a while the wishing just stopped.  Of course, that's when the all encompassing Universe decided to drop off a li'l sumn sumn, just when I wasn't looking for it.   I'm not gonna go into crazy, drawn out detail, cuz I kinda just want that stuff for myself for now, and if things don't...

So my faithful reader and close friend Ms. Berry asked that I follow up my incarceration experience with a blog describing my stay.  I kicked the idea around for a bit, wondering how, exactly, I could encompass the magnitude of that sort of thing and put it into words that make sense and do it justice.  Then I realized that in itself is completely fucking impossible; this shit is gonna be as watered down as a drink in a downtown club.   In order for me to give you even a semblance of an idea of what it was like, I'd have to throw a Thesaurus' worth of adjectives at you.  It's sad to say that prison is preferable to the County lockup, but that's as real as it gets. What is it like?  Loud, routine, dirty, lonely, bizarre, smelly, boring, demeaning, annoying, claustrophobic, scary, enlightening, and a hideous blow to my fashion senses (I realize now that dusty blue is just NOT in my color wheel). It's one of those things that all the adjectives in the world...

Well, kinda... Dear Abby decided to answer my plea for advice...even tho I completely forgot I asked for it. Daughter Must Zip Her Lips With Mother Who Opens Hers By  Abigail Van Buren  |  Dear Abby  –  Wed, Dec 5, 2012 Email Share 1 Print DEAR ABBY : When I was an adolescent, my father molested me. It took me 20 years to finally confide this secret to my mother. Afterward it felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders. That feeling lasted about two minutes. That's how long it took for her to get on the phone and spread the news to everyone she could think of. This was two years ago and, after repeatedly asking her to stop, she continues to tell. Two days ago, I caught her spilling the beans to an acquaintance she hadn't spoken to in more than a decade. We got into a heated argument, and she told me she will say what she wants, whenever she wants, to whomever she wants. My feelings are  not  c...

Because it would feel a hell of a lot better than the pain of saying goodbye to my kids yet again.  I'd take broken bones with a smile if I could trade. Tomorrow, once again, I will be at the mercy of the Cook County judicial system.  This time, however, I have no idea how long they plan to keep me.  I will be walking in having no clue when I will walk back out.  The agony of this lack of knowledge is indescribable. Anytime before this, it was easier to swallow.  The kids could mark the days, and were able to prepare ahead of time.  Tonight I had to watch my daughter cry because she was afraid I wouldn't be home for her birthday or Christmas, and listen to my son plead with me to not go at all, even though he knows I have no choice.  Let me tell you, there is nothing... NOTHING more heart shredding than hearing this from them and having no definitive answer to appease them with.  I would rather peel my own fucking skin off. The biggest ass kick...

I remember my decision to not blog for a while.  As it happens, I have had too much wine tonight and frankly I don't give a shit about anything right now, so inhibitions be damned. I'll probably have mixed feelings tomorrow, but lets be real: I CONSTANTLY have mixed feelings about something.   Back to the wine. So, yeah..I never actually drink by myself, but with the shitstorm I'm caught up in these days, it was either get fucking drunk alone or stab the first person who stands in my way. Hurricane Sandy ain't got shit on this girl right now. I'm..tired. I'm tired of drama, tired of issues, tired of failing.  As soon as I crawl out of a hole and find the light, the ground beneath me gives way and I'm right back where I started. In the dark. Clawing my way back out. AGAIN. Unless you've actually been in this position, you couldn't imagine how fucking exhausting this is, and no amount of positive thinking or changes in scenery are enough to alleviate...

I've decided that I'm not gonna blog anymore-at least not for a while. I have mixed feelings about having the contents of my twisted mind on public display, and the so-called 'catharsis' blogging is supposed to bring doesn't keep the demons at bay for long.  There's alot going on inside me right now, and part of me wants to leave it in a puddle on these pages, but then the rest asks 'why bother?' because I know it won't make me feel any better, and the issues will still be there when I hit 'Publish'.  Truth be told, most of what I'm dealing with is already weaved thru this blog, but I've just said it so many times that I'm tired of addressing it.  I'm sort of over myself at this point.  Curling into a ball and shutting out the world just seems like a more attractive option to me now, so that's where I'll be. TTFN.

Sometimes I sit back and examine my life, and I wonder if I just royally fucked up somewhere, or if I truly was just handed a raw fucking deal.  Call me pessimistic, but I think I'll go with the latter. Nothing is ever simple.  Everything has to be tangled and backwards and complicated. I'm always getting buried, and no matter how many times I attempt to crawl out of that hole, something else comes along and kicks me back in.  Again, I try, and again, I fail. Epically. Miserably.  I feel like I'm stuck on a hamster wheel...running and running but never actually getting anywhere.