When it rains..........

Joe was laid off from his 2nd job last night. The one that actually supported us since his cop job is the one he works to pay his extortion, I mean child support. After it's deducted each week he's left with about 150.00. So we'll be starving & having the power cut off but he'll continue to pay 434.00 for a single child. He just refused to get it lowered, despite not being able to afford it.

This is devastating news. I don't know what we'll do.

I just can't write anything right now.

Go with your gut

I chose to take the mature route & not act upon impulse.
I chose to bite my tongue & not say what I felt that I had every right to say.
I fought every instinct screaming inside my body & listened to "the voice of reason".
I took the high road & acted like the better person.
I chose not to defend myself since doing so would only have made me so angry & bent out of shape that I would have probably blown my brains out.

I was wrong to do all of these things.

When those 2 gossiping bitch cunts, that I chose to trust with my recovery & my personal life, decided to shred my feelings & trust with their spiteful tongues, I turned the other cheek. I stood firm in my decision to not suddenly bail out on my service position to my old home group & to respect my responsibility, and carried out the duties of the treasurer for the month of June; despite not going to a single meeting there. I acted like a dignified adult and didn't do what I wanted to do, which was tell them both exactly what I thought of their hypocritical blah, blah, blah's. But what do I get in return for these choices?

More name calling. Reputation slandering accusations & more prattling gossip about situations & people these two dumb sluts don't even know. So why am I so upset? Surprised or shocked? It's all a part of the M.O....so why is this bothering me in the slightest?

I really need to go revert back to my say "FUCK YOU" first & ask questions later philosophy. Being nice, considerate, & taking the advice of people who are supposed to be care about me was/is a big fucking mistake, and one I'm not making again.

I gave my all to that home group from day 1. I followed all the suggestions from everyone in the fellowship of NA that had clean time & I respected them for giving a shit about me & my recovery. I did things that I didn't feel comfortable doing because I was instructed that not being comfortable was exactly why I needed to do them...that I had to trust in what the program said and what my fellow addicts had gotten clean doing. I jumped into service work almost immediately & took great pride and pleasure in doing so. I served at the level of area, as well. I broke with every self protecting defense mechanism I owned for 36 years, letting women into my life and into my heart, even though women had always been my enemy & I, as a rule, don't trust them. And now, this.

Yes, I'm an addict. I've been clean for 2 years and 3 months, however many days that is, I'm not sure. I got clean through a hard mother fucking uphill battle that I still fight even now. But I no longer believe in the program I once defended so strongly. Nor do I believe in fucking people who flap their lips in so many directions.

So fuck you & the lies you have spread about me. Fuck you, your accusations & your implications. They mean nothing to me at this point because I see you for what you are; your own unresolved women issues, your mommy hating complex, your desperate need for controlling others because you feel as if you have none in your own life. I don't care what you think of me anymore. My hands are clean, my conscience is clear & my pride is intact.

Oh, and one more thing; FUCK YOU.

wonder why?

i never believe anyone when they tell me that they love me

if i do believe that perhaps they do love me, i don't believe that it's as strong as they claim

i pretty much doubt everything that comes out of another person's mouth

i'm always waiting for the other shoe to drop

i have zero positive expectations for myself

i have accepted the fact that i'll never achieve more than i already have in life

i am so full of insecurity

i always second guess my gut instincts

i can be happy, really happy, for one split second, then suddenly feel like a building landed on top me & sucks all that joy away

i can't ever feel good enough

smart enough

pretty enough

i continuously feel that i blow every second chance i am given

i have zero clue what to do with myself at this stage in my life

i am so terrified that this is all i will ever be & that it was never enough

i cannot lose the feeling that i am searching for something that i have never been able to find.................

not even these simple answers to life's hardest questions

Where you goin'?

Anywhere I want!

Not really....but I did decide to go to my high school reunion on the 18th.

I'd been toying with the idea ever for awhile now, but with my health issues lurking in the background I'd put off sending my money in to the committee. I finally made the decision today while floating in the pool and headed to the post office with the money order, since I knew that once it was in the mail I couldn't very well back out.

I'm not exactly dying to see these people again either....BUT....I'm curious. I didn't go to my 1o year reunion and I'll admit that I wouldn't be curious if it weren't for Facebook and reconnecting with my old classmates, I wouldn't be going to the 20 year reunion either.

We all know I'm not the most social girl in this world, but since I'm all about change and opening myself up to new experiences, I'm jumping in and seeing how it goes. It's all a part of the "faking it till you make it" ideology I got clean with.

I wasn't one of the popular kids in high school either and like a lot of people, I went to a high school that was full of snobby rich kids that we called "preps". I was always the quiet weird girl who was in the color guard and made straight A's and didn't fit into any of the social circles. Another reason I'm not excited about attending.

Funny thing is that even after 20 years, I still feel like that weird quiet girl that no one picked to be on their team in gym class.

Keep on faking it Anna.

Don't sweat the shitty stuff

My second opinion with Dr. Ass was a good one.....thank baby Jebus. This doctor didn't throw around that god damn "C" word once, nor did he tell me that his first resort to treat what ails me is slicin' & dicin'.

Of course, he couldn't diagnose me without a colonoscopy, but he did reassure me that my symptoms do present as either Crohns disease or ulcerative colitis. Yay. He also told me that usually medications are enough to cool down the colon and surgery is a last resort. Double yay. Finally, some good news in a rather distressing situation. Not to mention embarrassing.

I've decided to take this hopeful news as a good sign & run with the son of a bitch. I'm way too sick of being stressed and worried. I won't even mention the fact that the tears finally did come and I had zero clue how to handle the strange sensation of crying like a normal, feeling human being. Who the hell knows when I grew a fucking heart??? Seriously.

I'll go back over for the ass probing on the 24th, which is coincidentally my first wedding anniversary. When they told me that was the soonest he could fit my ass in (HA), I told GI Joe that it was alright if I took one up the tail pipe that day, considering I prolly did our wedding night anyway......

Seconds anyone?

Thanks to this hot lil number, I have my second opinion lined up for Monday morning. I'll be sure to let you all know what I find out. God only knows if something doesn't give one way or the other, I'm going to just throw in the towel. I feel absolutely horrible.

If it weren't so late I'd dish about the latest insane drama that's encircled my life. Once again, I did nothing but merely exist on the planet, yet all this shit (not from my diarrhea ass, but from crazy fucktards) comes my way. Oh, well. At least it gives me something to entertain the masses with. Maybe I'll blabber about it tomorrow.

Don't forget to check out my soul sister, because she's way too awesome to not be reading.

Happy fucking 4th of July, bitches.

But I like my sigmoid colon!!!

You should feel very special to be reading this information because you're the first to hear it. I haven't told anyone and really don't feel like doing so at all.

Today was my much dreaded ass consult. You know, my visit to the butcher, err, surgeon. Grr.

I went alone since I haven't spoken to my husband in 3 days (a whole other post) and I didn't really want to wake him up and ask him to tag along. Shit, I'm a big girl aren't I?

I had to fill out a mountain of paperwork describing which great aunt had what disease and what killed grandpa, and patiently waited 45 minutes before the Asian Doogie Houser comes strolling in. I say this with the UTMOST respect, but the cat doesn't look a day over 16. Hell, I'm not so sure his balls have fucking dropped yet. When I first met him last year while I was in the hospital I wanted to ask him for an I.D to be sure he wasn't playing dress up.

He goes right to the point by telling me that since I'm not even 4o yet and having this health issue, that I need to have the sick portion of my colon removed. My heart stopped. I held my breath & this stone cold bitch's eyes welled up with tears. WTF? Can't I have the colonoscopy before you start talking about gutting me like a catfish????

And what's up with physicians telling you icky sicky news with a smile on their face?? Seriously? I'm sitting on the table with my knees knocking talking about chronic diarrhea and bleeding outta my ass and Dr. Houser is nodding enthusiastically & grinning like I showed him my tits.

I'm doing my best to not freak the fuck out when he uses his hands to demonstrate the size of the hole he'll need to take out the part of my colon via lapraroscopic surgery, and totally tune him out while I begin to think of what cool songs I want played at my funeral. Always the girl to go straight to death, I'm done myself in even before the tube gets shoved up my ass.

See, it's all those years working in health care that gets me every fucking time. You just know too much and it's never the good patients you remember. It's the one whose bowel perforated or the other one where sepsis set in and they died after suffering unconscious for weeks. Not too forget the lovely possibility of needing a colostomy!!! Oh my fucking God.

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

The funny part about what I'm writing here, is that I'm so not trying to be funny. I'm so totally fucking serious. And scared. I'm really fucking scared. What's so ridiculous and retarded too is the fact that I've been fighting tears since I got the news this afternoon but refuse to allow myself to fucking cry. WHY DO I DO THAT SHIT???? What is so whacked out about me that I just can't grant myself the privilege to cry?? Especially when I realize that I would probably feel a hell of a lot better if I just let it all out?

SIGH

He put me back on Cipro & Flagyl since my pain returned after finishing my last round, and I've gotta ask, WHAT THE FUCK is Flagyl made out of??? Fucking horse turds?? That has got to be the worst tasting medicine man ever fucking created??? And the taste it leaves in your mouth for hours afterward!!! Ugh. Like giving a dead man head or something. Just gross.

I don't like feeling vulnerable & scared. Nor do I like the unknown & since I've seemed to have misplaced any faith I had acquired, I'm in a bad place right now.

I need the positive energy of best wishes & prayers and I don't care if you believe in baby Jesus or sacrifice cockroaches. I'm not judging, I'm not being picky, I just need the love, & if it's not too much to ask, I'd like yours.

Peace & love.