The clock is ticking.

Mental illness runs in my family.

Depression being the main culprit for most of us. The history isn't as important as the effect is has had. I myself have trudged through years of antidepressants hoping to see the sunshine more often then the clouds.
 Three years ago I had a pretty severe back injury. I had two surgeries on my back in 5 months, 16 months of physical therapy, wore a bone stimulator belt 4 hours a day for 6 months, have had steroid spinal injections, blah, blah, blah and the damn thing still won't work right. Probably a Wal-Mart back with no extended warranty.
I suppose you think this blog is about me. It's not. It's about my best friend. The man who has walked this long unbearable road with me and some how got lost along the way. Sadly I was so stuck in my own sad life with the loss of my life as I knew it that I didn't really see the disappearance of my husband until he was truly gone.
A month ago today my husband packed a bag and walked out. Not a big bag. A sad little small bag. Even at the end he didn't have enough energy to pack a lot of stuff for himself. He walked out not because he didn't love us. He actually walked out because he loved us so much he couldn't bare to hurt us one more day. Obviously this HAS hurt me. It's pretty hard to feel abandoned and not feel hurt.
I have struggle for a month trying to understand how his depression is different then mine. Sadly it is and it has been for a very, very, very long time.
 It's not all the same that is why it is so hard to treat not to mention the times where we all feel GOOD so we figure we are cured and take ourselves off the meds just to end up throwing a full can of pop at our spouses head sometime down the road. No I wont tell you that story.
As I am trying to keep my own head above the water right now and it is truly becoming a difficult task to hold onto a life preserver for my husband in hopes that sometime soon he will actually grab it and trust that I DO have enough strength and faith to help us both climb out of shit stew we have been calling our life for a long time.
I have spent the past month watching from a very long distance as to whether he is getting the help he needs or whether I will have a cop show up on my door to give me the news that he lost the grip of that life preserver I was holding onto. Honestly at this point I don't think I would answer the door so I hope no one wants to serve me with papers anytime soon because they can all just kiss my ass at this point.... I am not answering it. I may wave at you through the glass but that door isn't opening.
He had started therapy, did see a medical doctor, did get a new type of antidepressant along with some Xanax to help him calm down before he wigs out and becomes unemployed. He has been trying but this journey took a long time to reach the bottom of the barrel so it will probably take a long time to come up for air. While I wait I can almost hear the clock ticking loudly because this illness at this stage is a race against the clock.
I'm sure some of you are saying commit him. I would love to send him to and let him rest for awhile but I don't even know where he lives right now. I also don't know where he is hiding because he has had some enlightening thought that has told him to go out in the woods and spend 3 or 4 days to become one with himself. So he is a grown man hiding in the woods....and yet I still hold this life preserver...while I tread water.
Today my arms are tired...so very tired.

Spam does not always come from a can.

I recently took the time to look at my spam file in my email. Curious what kind of crap I was being sent by whom. I was bragging to Scott about my spam being Identity theft stuff, becoming an ADT authorized dealer, lower my mortgage, or the laser spine institute! Seemingly normal spam for a normal person.Yes, I said normal.
Eventually I got down in the list and the spam became get the Bosley Hair Restoration. HUH? Obviously this person has no clue who I am and has never seen my heavy, thick hair that gives me migraines from a sad pipe-cleaner neck that doesn't always agree with holding that mop up.
Then there is some guy named Lionel Bruce that wants to make sure I achieve the perfect possibilities in bed. Unfortunately I don't think a guy with 2 first names (Lionel Bruce) is gonna teach me anything I don't already know.
Next is the lovely married but lonely.com where I can meet cheating wives locally. Hmmmmm unless those skank's want to clean the oven, scrub the bathroom floor or dust I am not really interested plus they would probably want to use my restroom and I am thinking that is a definite no-no.
The lasik institute wants to give me a holiday special which really kinda bugs me since I don't even own a pair of glasses. I do however think that my web cam is bugged since I was just discussing moving our microwave in our dining room closer to the couch in the living room since the number's have recently become blurry on the damn thing and I can't read the clock anymore from where I sit.
Lifecell wants to take years off my face with it's magic anti-aging crap and they must of been talking to Model secrets because they too have shocking wrinkle research revealed! People better watch out because I am gonna be a baby faced beauty with a 47 year old body. That should be a real eye opener.
Education hub wants me to earn my nursing degree. I am guessing no one from the laser spine center (see line 3 above) has told them I blew my back out a few years ago. Maybe I should forward education hub's email to them to stop all the confusion.
The credit card match.com has a credit card just for me which is really nice of them since I haven't held a job  in over 2 years. Some company's just know you are a good person. I am considering their offer so I can stop by premier care in bathing and check out the walk in tub that is just right for me! Not for you...Me!

Last but not least is the ultimate wines shop that has a Full-bodied & Pure 98pt Single Vineyard Brunello On Sale!  Woohoo.....I don't really know what that is because I am not a wine drinker but it looks like it is super cool since it changed my font color on it's own! 
Spam is far more exciting when it's on a computer versus's in a pan.

Snapped

I sometimes get fed up with shit. I honestly try to be a calm, level headed human being but at times I fail in this category. I would like to be one of those people that is all happy all the time, farting butterflies and leaving a trail of sparkle everywhere I go but I am not.

Secretly I actually hate my spouse, at times. Why? I don't know why. I think it is because that is how life works. Sometimes he chews to loud. Yes I said it...too loud. I sit and try to ignore it but after I have noticed it I can't just turn it off. Listening to him rumble through the container, like a little kid looking for a prize in a cereal box, then chomping away, smacking his lips, while yet another football game plays on the t.v. because that is what a wife wants to listen to all day every single Sunday of her married life. 

I look at him thinking about secretly jamming that remote up his ass as he flips from one channel to the next.... pretending to be in love with me.... when we both know that too many days together during the holidays has caused us to consider a nice stint on the show snapped. 

Could I get away with murder? I don't think so but once in awhile spouses think about that. You don't have to be fighting to have a day where you hate each other. 

It's not real hate, it's that temporary insanity kind of hate. Where you have looked at each other for too many days and the other person is kinda dumb and ugly today. 

It's the same kind of hate that show's up during long rides in a car. Where the conversation is gone because your both too tired to talk anymore and you drift off into lala land dreaming of getting out of the car before you have to listen to one more stupid song they have picked on that stupid radio station.

It's the newborn baby hate. Not for the baby but at this spouse that can't seem to ever hear a baby crying, smell a shitty diaper, or recognize when a bottle needs to be made.

Moving day hate is even worse. Those days can cause anyone to go over the deep end. I can't even look at my spouse during a move. Boxes stacked to ceiling  you can't find anything even if boxes are labeled because the spouse has piled boxes upon boxes on top of each other and doesn't care if all the boxes in the kitchen are marked garage. All you really want is that box with the knifes in it.... luckily it is no where to be found.

One of the worse fight's I ever had with my husband was over gas for the lawn mower. Yes...I almost considered jumping from a moving car just so I didn't have to listen to my husband say anymore about the lawn mower gas. I would of rather died then endured on more minute of that bullshit. What was with the lawn mower gas? I don't know. I can't remember now but it was the biggest thing's going on that day and it  almost pushed a woman to suicide. 

Bedtime arguments suck also. I hate those because both people are defiantly tired since they both went to bed but one sentence can cause an argument from hell that drones on and on. Sometimes no one can even remember why they are arguing it has gone on so long. Then there is the old "Don't go to bed mad" bullshit statement. Screw you because sometimes I am mad and I don't care if it's bed time. Bedtime can kiss my mad ass.

Scott and I argue about grilling. He some how has become a master chef of grilling. He does it right and I don't which I find amazing because I grilled for about 20 years before he came into our lives and we all survived it but now it is all wrong. Blah blah blah...yadda yadda yadda.. Whatever. I figure the grill can end up in the same place I wanted the remote to be earlier. 

The thankful thing about the temporary hate is that it goes away with a little time apart, or a kind word, a soft touch or whatever else melts your heart. I also know that I am not the only crazy biatch that feels this way. We all feel it from time to time and that's what makes the loving, getting along time so much nicer because you appreciate each other and the fact that you don't have to dig a remote out of your husband's ass to watch t.v. 

This is the exciting part!

I have kids. Three of my own and two step kids. I was like most people who planned on having kids. I had tried for two years before I finally got pregnant. I was SO excited.
Zoom ahead 25 years to anyone that is considering having children and I would like to give you some tips before you walk down this road.
Tip 1: Before you have kids start out by setting your alarm to go off ever two hours for the first few months, then set it for every three hours for up to a year. While you are doing this also open your back door and throw out at least one or two paychecks a month. Don't stare at it...it is gone....this is the exciting part.
Tip2: Remember to never leave your house without packing 300 things in your car. Plan on always being late and practice arguing with your spouse every chance you get. In fact to get even more practice in leave something important behind on every trip just for fun. Keep in mind that.... this is the exciting part.
Tip3: Taper back on your sex life to almost nothing for 3 years times how many kids you would like to have. When you do finally get an opportunity to have sex make sure you stop half way leaving your spouse waiting for you. This is the exciting part!
Tip4: Randomly go around your house and break stuff. Pick things that mean nothing and things that have a lot of sentimental value. For excitement throw some of your spouses stuff out the window as your driving down the interstate to never be seen again. When they question you as to why? Pretend like you have no idea what they are talking about. Plus you need to continue throwing your paychecks out the back door. Yep...this is the exciting part.
Tip5: Buy groceries, take them home and put them directly in the garbage. Rip open all of your bags of chips or cookies and leave them open for the next guy. Parents love these kinds of stale surprises.
Tip6: Randomly send money to local doctors, dentists and hairdresser's. If you want to have girls plan on sending a paycheck to the hairdresser every 2 months.
Tip7: Drive yourself to football games, wrestling meets, basketball games, tee-ball, soccer, track , cross country and anything else that the local school has going on. Don't shy away if the weather is bad. Sit under your blanket and rain coat and remind yourself that... this is the exciting part.
Tip8: At Christmas time buy a lot of toys, spend time wrapping them then on the great day open them and have your spouse beat them all to a pulp with a baseball bat. Boy wasn't that fun!
Tip9: To plan for the teenage years slam all your doors all day long. Never fill your car with gas and drive around on empty for excitement. Double your grocery amount and then complain about how there is nothing to eat. Sigh loudly at your spouse and when asked what's wrong reply that your bored. Resume setting your alarm for the middle of the night and sit up in the dark until your eyes are burning out of your head while randomly calling your spouse  and asking them a stupid question. Like" Do I need to come home at curfew?" Wait 20 mins and do over.

If you make it through all this exciting stuff and haven't gotten divorced, became homeless or ended up in 5 east then you are ready for kids. Just don't forget...this is the exciting part!

Till death do we part.

I hate my neighbor's dog. He is an old, dusty looking, almost dead dog. I'm guessing by appearance he is about 150 in human years. My husband and I discuss that dog at least once a week. The dog has gotten to the point where he crap's like a horse now and turds just fall out of him on the road as he slowly walks by. Squatting to take a dump is no longer needed since the muscle's that hold everything in have all but given up.
I know... I am a terrible person for not liking that dusty, half dead dog. I should feel bad for the poor old geezer. Here is the reason I don't...the dog barks ALL day long. When the owner's leave they put him out on a chain and I am stuck sitting here listening to him go bark, wait a minute, bark, wait a minute,bark, wait a minute,bark,wait a minute, bark, wait a minute,bark....a solid steady bitch bark that could make me start drinking during the day if I had the funds to support it.
I realize it isn't the dogs fault. He is just upset because he is 150 human years old, can't see out of one eye anymore and turds just fall out as he walks around.
It's his owner's fault...they leave him and don't care that he barks all day because they aren't home to listen to him bitch about his old miserable life. If I spoke dog I am sure he is calling them dirty names all day. That is the one thing I have in common with the dusty, old, half dead dog.
I don't want any animal lover's to write me telling me how horrible I am because I don't like this dusty dog. I have kids but that doesn't mean I love every kid that walks the earth. I have Cosmo the superdog but that doesn't mean I have to like this half dead dog.
 I can not so fondly recall a time when Logan was a baby and we all lived in a home that didn't have a basement. The tornado whistle went off 4 times that night and I loaded up my 3 kids PLUS 2 HAMSTER'S to go uptown to the storm shelter. I stood there each time holding my baby (who weighed a ton) in a car seat up and out of the mouth's of all the animals the people had brought up with them. Anyone who has held a baby in a car seat for very long appreciates that gravity is a bitch and babies are heavy. The 4th time the whistle went off I had just gotten home in a pouring rain with my 3 kids and 2 hamster's. I stood sopping wet inside my door as it began to blair and walked straight into my bedroom , opening the door to my interior closet and jamming all 3 kids and the 2 stupid  hamster's inside. I was to tired to haul us back uptown to stand with a doberman pincher eyeing my son as it's next meal.
So back to the dead dog. I guess I should be a little bit thankful to him because he annoys me so bad I actually leave the house and find stuff to do. Take yesterday for instance...I had put off getting groceries for 2 weeks. I mean we had some peanut butter and 4 slices of bread left. What's the big deal? Dusty dog started his non stop barking and I found myself staring out the window at him. Thinking about giving him a sweet drink of yummy antifreeze when I changed my mind..grabbed my purse and went and got groceries. By the time I got home and put everything away the half dead dog's owner's had returned home to save dusty dog from yet another close brush with death. None the wiser.
Today the sun is shining, dusty dog's owner's are home and he is inside his warm house doing whatever a half dead dog does at 8 am in the morning....*sigh*...hopefully he isn't following this blog.

Parenting 101

I had parent teacher conferences recently. I hate parent teacher conferences! HATE them!
Why.. because no matter how well a kid is doing they always find something to bitch about. I am on my third kid here...two have grown, graduated and are gone and now I just have Logan (my gift from god) left.
He has ADHD so every conference sounds the same ...he TALKS to much. *sigh*
Ya think? He started talking at like 2 months and hasn't shut his mouth since! I'll take a new complaint for 100 dollars, Alex!
Logan has low A's and high B's which is pretty damn good for a kid that can't remember to brush his teeth each day or to wipe his own butt most times. I have followed him after he has used the bathroom and left me a present in the toilet with no paper... I know.
I do medicate him on school days but let me make this clear that I do it FOR him not for the teacher's that get annoyed with him. That means I have to rely on them to let me know how he's doing. That's why I go.
I met with one of his teacher's who has him for 4 classes a day. I figured she would be the best one to tell me how he's doing. She didn't look like she was going to have a nervous breakdown so I felt like everything was gonna be good. She could barely speak though and she seemed to be so nervous that she couldn't catch her breath.
I have a reputation of being a hard ass at this school. I have had to fight with teacher's for years over Logan's ADHD. One idiot complained that he would get up and shut the door all day because of all the hallway traffic.. it would bother him. DUH..he has ADHD! Don't sit him at a desk right by the door. *double sigh* The only teacher that ever liked him and didn't complain was a woman that I like to call the drill Sergent. She was a total bad ass but that kid excelled under her watch and she gave him praise. Something most ADHD kids don't get often enough.
He is doing wonderful and his reading is so advanced that they have put him a class for the more accelerated reader's so he won't get bored. Recently they have been reading the book "Water for elephants" It has some pretty steamy parts in it and Logan being 13 acted like a typical 13 year old boy by yapping about the sex stuff in another class which caused a chain reaction that ended up back in my lap.
They expect allot from a boy that just turned 13 last week...they should of been in my junior high class. Kelly peed in a tuba in the band room, Troy threw a huge wad of toilet paper onto one of glass windows in a door and we all got to watch is slide slowly down while Mrs Cook looked like she was gonna have a heart attack, and there's Tyler and his lovely football throw into Sue's nose at a 5 foot range. Just to name a few...
I have not read the book but did see the trailer of the movie before it came out which looked like a steamy love story. I also knew about the steamy stuff because Logan came home one day while I was on the phone with his oldest sister and told me about a part in the book where this dude was masturbating.
 His sister was like "What did he say?" I repeated it to her and she flipped out. "He's not old enough for that mom!" Whatever...he is in junior high now. I had to remind her that somewhere there is a 13 year old boy having sex right now and we should be glad he just dropped the M bomb....and nothing else.
To get my point across to her I reminded her of an evening years ago when her, her sister (who was probably in 7th or 8th grade) and I were driving home from a concert at the school.
I had 3 miles left and I would be off the gravel road we were on and heading into my house for the night. I can still see the glow of the dash lights as I was driving when I heard a voice from the backseat say "Mom, what's a blow job?" I almost drove into the ditch as I turned to look in the mirror and try and see the  face of my curious daughter. I then realized that my oldest sitting next to me had a big smirk on her face. My first reaction was to respond with something like "I don't know what your talking about." If you can explain it then it implicates you...nobody warned me when I was pregnant about this part.
I am a firm believer in the truth though no matter how hard it is to spit out so after I blocked out the side eyeing, grinning face of my high school kid I began to explain what it was. Straight up..no beating around the bush. I did not get to finish as the voice from the back seat began to say in a loud, flat, tone...NEVERMIND..NEVERMIND..NEVERMIND!
I guess you could say that by now I am numb to all this parent crap so that night I began to explain to Logan that it's a privilege for him to be in this reading class reading mature material and I expect him to act mature about the material he has read. That even though boobs, butt's and masturbating is funny to talk about the kid he is joking about it to may not be as mature ( I doubt that) and it might actually embarrass them...blah,blah, blah, yada, yada, yada....whatever.
I am still not sure I agree with him reading a book where the class skips over the sexy parts in class but then the kids have it in their possession to drool over the smut later when they are alone. All that  means is if he has questions about anything I may just end up driving in the ditch some dark night on the way home.
I'm getting to old for this shit.

My friend

I have a friend in prison. Yes, I still call him my friend.
Why.. because from 1st grade until long after graduation we had a group of us that ran around together, laughed, partied, got married, had kids, some of us went through divorce. He made me laugh more often then he has ever made me sad. I miss him and have just recently began to write him in prison.
People don't think about the family and friends of someone that has done wrong.They can't comprehend how hurt we all are by the choice this human being has made. I have done the same thing..."Lock the bastard up and throw away the key!" I still feel that way when I see any sexual predator on t.v. I have no compassion for this human being. I forget that this person is someones son, daughter, husband, wife, father, mother, best friend.
My friend murdered another human being. He did it in the most awful way and he did it in front of her children. They could hear her screams as she was being killed in her front yard. I almost throw up as I write this just thinking about how awful it must of been for them. I feel sad for them and wish I could find some way of helping them through what must of been the most terrifying moments of their young lives. I can't. No words I could ever say could ever make this better.
I feel very angry when I think about those final moments that changed my friend from a "normal" human being to what most would consider a monster. I also feel sad that he didn't love himself enough to want better for himself. That he settled into a life that wasn't the kind of life our group of friends would have ever wished upon him.
My first letter told him that I could not find the words to write and that is why years have passed before he has heard from me. The person I write to is not the murderer but the funny, stupid kid that I grew up with. By me writing to him it does not mean that I condone what he has done. I cannot ever understand nor forgive this horrible act! He does deserve to sit in prison and had he gotten the death penalty I would of understood that to.
I miss my friend though. I miss his wit, his genius. He was so super smart the guy never had to crack a book. He could of been anything! We all knew it. We all envied that he was like that. I had to study my ass of to even hope for a B yet you have this guy that didn't even have to struggle and he could pull an easy A anytime.
My friend didn't know this..He didn't know he could be anything...he lacked self esteem. His life was a hard one yet he always was the funny one...the one that was easy to talk to.
He didn't judge people....I think this was his biggest character flaw. I know that some of you won't agree with this because you post things saying don't judge anyone.
My question is... if you lived your life not judging anyone than would you hang around the shady assholes that your mother warned you about?  We all judge and that is part of the reason I am free...and my friend isn't.
I don't surround myself with drug user's and drunks. I don't want to hang out with people that would rather steal then work. I judge..and I am judged. Some people won't understand why I still call this man my friend. He is a killer..he did something awful and unforgivable.....but to me he is still that stupid kid I grew up with. The idiot that put a hot dog in someones mouth if they passed out early by a campfire. The one that most people followed because he would always supply a good time. The guy that never complained about his shitty life.
I wish he had complained like the rest of us bitcher's. I wish we could of seen this coming. We didn't. We are victims too. We lost someone too. We may never see him again. He may die in prison. Even if he doesn't die there I am sure his personality will. I have no plans to ever visit him because he probably wouldn't be my friend anymore if I saw him in that enviorment but I can write him a few times a year.
 I have chosen to do this because....He would of done it for me. He is my friend.