There I sat, tears streaming down my cheeks in the barely lit room, reading and highlighting pill books and doing bio-chemistry conversions. The master plan, so to say.  He didn’t talk about what I was doing, or why I was in the state that I was in. The sheer urgency of needing a light at the end of the tunnel told him the bad parts of the story, so he didn’t have to ask. He convinced me to call a family member in Las Vegas, or that was their last known whereabouts eleven days ago or so. So I called. A familiar but unidentified voice was on the other end of the line. I asked for my family member and there was a pause then, “Oh, he’s already left. I’m sorry.” Before the “sorry” was ever there, I had fresh tears pooling in my eyes. The sure thing, the one who would care for me no matter what, was already gone on to who knows where. I had thrown out his number before hand, so I couldn’t call him.

Feeling trapped I said my thanks and was about to hang up with the man on the other end of the line offered to take a message. “Do you have [his] number?” I asked. “Of course. But I don’t know who you are, so I can’t give it to you. It’s not my place,” he replied. I felt somewhat relieved. While I was giving the info to him via a speaker phone, my friend James was telling me things through FB to ask. Under any other circumstances, it would have been pretty funny. The guy on the phone asked me who was there, and I said I was chatting with someone through a video, and he replied, “You’re not crazy love, I can hear him too.” I had a feeling of who I had on the line, but I had to ask, and I was right. I felt a little embarrassed about calling his room, upset and thinking horrible thoughts, but I wanted out so badly. We finished up the call, he wished me well, I thanked him, and returned to my video chat. James hit the nail on the head when he asked me who it was by name. I saw his eyes light up. “Why don’t you go live with him! And bring me with you?!” Another thing that would have been funny under different circumstances.

I came to many conclusions last night and tonight. One of them is that I know who I can count on. I know who really loved me. The sad part is that I am not as smart as I thought I was. I thought I would never be taken in my another Roxanna again, and it’s very clear that I have been. She used to promise me hope of deliverance from my domestic violence situations, and then never fully able to go through with it. I didn’t need food. I didn’t need money. I needed companionship, someone to tell me that I was not alone. Someone to tell me that everything was going to be alright and that they were going to be there for me through it all. Looking back at those messages, I have to wonder if I was conversing with Roxanna again. Did she change her voice again? Where is she getting those devices? They all sound like different women, but they use the same sentence structures, same words, same phrases and life stories that she presented to me eleven and a half years ago. How does she keep fooling me off of the computer? Will she ever give up? What is so important that I have that she wants? If she just tells me, I will gladly give it to her for her to leave me alone forever. I am no longer even interested in keeping a record of her lies online anymore because I want her to leave me alone. I won’t even white knight for her future victims anymore. Discover the bitch like I did. Carry on the torch as I tried to. Just. Leave. Me. Alone!

In the mail this afternoon, I received a plane ticket to New Jersey. Do I want to go? Not especially. I can bring along the little ones, but only one carry on luggage each. The tickets are one way. There’s no turning back once I do go. I have faith in James, though. I know if I go to him, he will really be waiting for me at the Newark airport. He will really take me to his place. I won’t end up lost and wandering around alone somewhere down Texas way, with no way to get to even an enemy that I know down there. Not that they would help me, but it would be a familiar face. Maybe there’s a lesson to be learned from all of this, but I have to say that I should have learned it a long time ago when  I first caught Janna in her lies and then caught Roxanna in similar lies. But I fell for it. Maybe it’s my weakness that every human has a heart and compassion for another human being in help, though I know many who have turned a blind eye to me since childhood.

James put a light at the end of the tunnel that I was in. I didn’t know if it was a train or the sunshine, but I could see a light and that was all I wanted to see. It was all I needed. I’m happy that he gave me that hope and didn’t just push me away when I reached out for help. Even if he had not sent me any tickets anywhere, and just conversed with me last night, not shooed me away because his mind and heart were on other things, I would have been just as grateful. I’m saddened a little that I did not marry James when I had the chance, but that’s just one of a thousand regrets that I am going to have to live with.

I was in a relatively good mood today. The weather was nice once again, and I got to talk to Nick about what we were all going to be doing when I get to the Golden Coast. I still want to make that perfume I mentioned in yesterday’s post. I want to gather the wildflowers by the seaside in Sydney. Those flowers are in full bloom right now, and they will be so nice for the next four months. I want to get to the batch in the mid-summer, so they will put out better, stronger scents. I have a feeling I will be doing this the Friday before we leave. I hope Mandy likes them!

I’m still cleaning up after my harasser. The lies were against me eleven years ago, after a two-year tango with my harasser lying to me. Ten years. That’s too long to be thinking about things like this. I should have let it go. I was doing so great, even though said racist harasser commented nearly fifty times an hour, for twenty-four hours from the same IP and computer. Damn. I attracted a shut in! But today, all of that is gone, forgotten. I am saddened that I lost all of my first round of archives. I’m going to print out some more pictures that my mother wanted and hope that she doesn’t destroy this batch. I’m unusually tired tonight and it’s not even 8pm yet. What is wrong with me?! Speaking of my mother, this is probably the last batch I do for her for a long time. I found out that she stole more of my medicine for her meth-addict sister, so I get to go to work suffering.

I called Nick in tears over this, and he said that he would get me another bottle or two of the syrup, and we could be together on the plane going over. Just us and Chloe. I could sip or chug as much of that syrup that I could take. I smiled at that thought.

When we get home from this magically summer ride, we’re supposed to start prepping to go to Las Vegas! Another road trip! Good thing I am up for these things! I feel so lucky and so blessed, even if I am one kidney short and my heart is still weak, and I am exhausted. I will get to Las Vegas and I will see Mandy. Those are just two of the things that I want to do now that the only thing holding back is my own tight grip on the railing to the stairs. If I leave, my place will get robbed, my pets killed, and my house trashed; possibly burned down. Or maybe the fire won’t happen, and someone comes in and steals our computers, DVD-R, flat screen HD TVs, Wii, you know, all the stuff we worked very hard to have and got with in a few years of being motivated.

I keep thinking about seeing my friend there with me in Las Vegas. Maybe Dallas. I have a seminar there about blood cancers, what treatment worked best for me, what to expect, and what parents and care givers can expect when their child is on chemotherapy. I usually hate these seminars, but this time, I am looking for an excuse, any excuse to get out of the house for a little while, drive down town and come home. I’ll feel like I’ve had a “real job” as my harasser says. Because a job should never be something one enjoys to do for larger salaries than some boring cashier at a video store. But I guess they truly value their child-hating cashier who laughs hysterically when kids get hut in the store. Make snide observations and then check their name when the pull out their credit card, to see how much more money they have. Strange that for someone who was running the family into poverty but was going to be the World’s Next GOD, they never finished their degree. They just got a professional degree and they’re working in a Blockbuster video along side people who are physically 16, 17, 18, 19, not just mentally.

Yes, the person who made fun of me for working at Arby’s when I was 16, is in their 40′s today, and they still work as a drone in a Blockbuster store, where they have been since 2003. It’s great, right? I got a PhD while they were on the web making me look bad. I ignored them. They lost their jobs, lost their schooling, their spouses, and here I am, independently working on my own research, research that was unique to the University before I came here. I have been doing work like that since I was thirty. My learning days and test taking seminars are over. I teach at those now. I have three to go and teach at, get my complimentary meals, snacks, and I can leave without cleaning up. Perfect.

Not as perfect as being on the Golden Coast, but I’ll take it. *all smiles*

I didn’t venture out, but stayed inside with the windows and doors open, letting the warm breeze sweep though the house, cleaning out the dirty air, and replacing it with fresh air. The zing zing made working on anything a little harder. I feel like my foot is swollen, but I don’t believe it is.

With all the good things that happened to me today, I am still dreading next week and the start of dialysis. Dialysis is what caused the septic infection that eventually led to Jess’ death. His body couldn’t fight off the infection, so the doctor did not supply any antibiotics. They went ahead with the transplant, though. Smooth move, doc! There’s that tiny thought in t he back of my mind that I may or may not end up like Jess. In so much pain from sepsis that I swallow too much codine or too many Percs and I don’t wake up. Champ offered to bring me over some barbs. No thanks. I have enough to worry about, with how I could fight off the pain, should I get an infection.

All that being said, I am excited to get the first dialysis over with, because that means I can board the plane to the Golden Coast and nothing will stop me from being with my man and family. It’s summer in Australia right now. Where I am is about to get covered with several feet of snow. I still have plenty of time off, and nothing to occupy my mind. I have read Chloe every book that is appropriate for her, played dolls and video games with her, read just as many books to the boys, and played hide and seek with them, letting them win a few times, of course, that the three kids are tired of playing. Ashe asked me if I was going to start dinner soon because he wanted his supper and to go to bed! How many other people have the luxury of their four year old asking them for bedtime?! Didn’t think so.

I myself am going stir crazy. I finished my spiral notebook that I started back in October, I started a new journal, and even ordered a new one from Amazon. I’ve done all I can do with this site and the design. I have looked through more layouts, chosen one for March, and then I actually turn off my computer. I have watched every single show on cable in HD several times over. I am bored with everything. Bored and brilliant is a really bad combination. When I get those two together, I usually end up having a seizure and wake up sucking some stranger’s cock in the men’s room of the Cherry pub, stoned off my ass on a narcotic or two, in the early stages of alcohol poisoning, only to stagger out and be informed by Champ that I had a fourth man who wanted to take a turn. Whoa. I have called all the friends I have numbers for. I brushed the dog. The kitchen is spotless. I have an open bottle of Jack Daniels here, and I have had several drinks from it. Oh downward spiral, take me on another magic carpet ride…

Nick finally called me last night. He said they weren’t going to take me out of the filming. I was secretly relieved. I really wanted to work on that with him. The director is just going to shoot some other scenes that do not include me. I really want to go back to the gardens there in Sydney. I want to relive the beautiful flowery trails, collect wildflowers and have them pressed and made into perfume. That’s always been a favourite thing for me to do in Australia. I want to make a bottle for my friend Mandy, too. I hope she likes it!

While I was going through my meds this morning, I noticed that my fentanyl was gone. A whole five patches. I found out that my loving mother gave them to her drug addicted sister because she “needed them more than I did”. What? Really? All that is wrong with my aunt is she’s a chronic drug abuser. I really have a broken back and tumors that are causing me horrible pain. After the argument, I locked my med box in the trunk in the closet. Double locked, I might add. Let’s see anyone break into that! She started to tell me that maybe I should move out and earn my own money for my medicine myself. What kind of a selfish bitch was I to totally rely on my husband to work and support me and my ‘drug habit’ I had because of my cancer diagnosis. Wow. I’m not allowed to rely on my husband to buy my meds and work to support the household? I should move out of my own home? What the hell is wrong with her family!

That trip cannot get here fast enough. Have a great rest of the weekend, everyone! I have some pictures to upload after a while from when I tore apart my TimeCapsule and old iMac and harvested their drives. Now if I can only get some USB cords and connect them, I can get my data back. I’ll be so glad to get it, too. Never ever rely on media that you cannot connect to your main computer. I learned that the hard way.

I’m off to finish the bottle of Jack Daniels!

Actually, I’m not that much happier. I am not motivated to do anything other than lounge around my bed and watch the world go by through my green box window. I was supposed to be on the Golden Coast today. I was supposed to start filming. I was supposed to be experiencing the Sydney summer sunshine. Yet here I am in a cold, smoggy city. There’s plenty for me to do, but I have no ambition to do it. The Golden Coast was supposed to be my get away.

I did go with Nick to the airport, something I  have not done in a long time. We were late to the gates, and I secretly hoped he would miss his flight, but the piolet was late as well, and there we were. I stayed too long in the airport. I didn’t just watch the plane disappear into the smoggy, gray, cold sky. I stood there in anticipation that it would come back. That there was something wrong and the piolet would have to come back. But after three hours, it was clear the plane was not coming back. Walking back to the entrance, I saw my cab had already gone on. Might as well. I didn’t want to ride with myself, either.

I kept trying to cheer myself up. I kept telling myself that we could appeal the case and that all would be right in our world. Come a week from Saturday, I would be on the Golden Coast as well. The warm sea water, the bright sunshine, the city in bloom. Best of all, no pills. No one to tell me that they wanted to intentionally trigger me “just to see what happens.” No more worrying about who I was going to accidentally offend next. Chloe thought she was going today as well. She was pretty upset when we made her go to school this morning. I was just as upset as I walked in the University and began my work for the day. I felt all over that this isn’t right. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. I haven’t let my phone out of my sight, for fear that Nick is going to call and I will miss his call. He promised to call me as soon as his plane landed. That was nearly twelve hours ago. I sometimes wonder if he forgot about me?

I played the two new songs over and over on my phone as I went through the motions of work. Carl made some smart-assed remarks to me and I barely batted an eye. Normally, I would engage in his torment and tell him what I thought of him. But this time, I let it go. I let many things go when I let go of Nick this morning.

It shouldn’t have to be this way.

I got a letter from my lawyer telling me that we had lost the case, but we’re going to appeal. Like a dumbass, I left the letter out and Nick found it. This really upset Nick. He went so far as to say that he wasn’t going to the Golden Coast tomorrow. Wait. That’s tomorrow? I had completely forgotten. I then had to break the news to him that I couldn’t make it until Saturday of next week. Of course he wanted to know why. I said I had appointments that had come up, and he pleaded that we had made plans to go to the Golden Coast months ago. I agreed, but if I miss this appointment, the other party in our case may be able to win by default. I didn’t go into too much details. By this time Nick was in tears, and I was the Bad One. I am still gathering information, if not for myself, than for the sake of having these therapies go as smoothly as possible. I feel if I don’t piss them off I can stay home for the majority of the testing.

All week has been strange. Nick wrote this really awful song, more of an eulogy to me, than a song, and it bothered me. Many things about this week has bothered me. Group therapy bothered me. NA bothered me. Listening to Sister Rose tell me how Chloe is trying to dig her earrings out bothered me. I don’t want to go through with this whole therapy thing again, because the last time I went, it did not help me. I know what’s wrong. I have PTSD and I live with an abusive person, unable to live my life the way I really want to. My best friend is dead and I spend hours after work at his grave. None of this is healthy, but it’s what I do. It’s part of who I am. It’s something I have never had to deal with before. I know that I am acting out again, and that worries me. I see changes in me that I never thought I would have to see before. Whether they are positive changes or not, I am unsure. Time will tell.

My (asshole!) doctor wanted to blame the chemicals that I work with. They can cause severe kidney damage. Sure. If I had worked there for fifty years. He then blames the metformin that I have been on for the past four years. Well, he wanted me to take it because it causes weight loss. He also told me there were no horribly wrong side effects. Um, sure. See, I knew better. If I were an everyday person I could have a lawsuit against him at the moment, but as a bio-chemist, I knew the risks of taking the medicine and I still took it. Having my mother tell me that at 173 lbs, losing 30 lbs since Halloween night, made me less of an embarrassment to her. Of course she’s in her 60s and living off me, but I’m the embarrassment because I was a few pounds overweight. Technically for my height I wasn’t even obese, but I stopped eating, got depressed, and here I am. Though my loving doctor and mother want me down to 100 lbs even by summer. I was encouraged that I could do this. Ever see a 100 lb 6′ 1″ person? We don’t look good. We look like we survived the holocaust. We have no energy. Ten years ago I was down to 100 – 90 lbs and I looked like total shit. No tits. No energy. Constant pains. But damn, I wasn’t an embarrassment to my mother, her family, or my doctor. The people whom I should have truly been trying to please weren’t interested in my weight; I’ve always been perfect to them.

I was put on a double transplant list yesterday. Monday I pick up my pager to wait for the news that there is a kidney or lung (yes, those are fucked up too). I’m not sure if this will affect my trip to Sydney, or the trip to Las Vegas in March. I’ve already paid for my tickets and I want to go. My plane to Sydney is supposed to leave on Thursday morning and I return on Sunday the fifth. I had everything planned, from a new camera to a ton of GBs of space to take pictures and video. I even stocked up on spare batteries and a fast charger so I wouldn’t run out of juice on the trip. Then there’s my “artisan” make up because I was supposed to be a part of the filming we’re going to. I can’t get on camera with a dialysis cath in my arm with the bruises to go with it. This all has screwed up my entire pleasure in looking forward to the trip; I haven’t been to Australia for pleasure since 2003. Dennis was also looking forward to seeing DW again. I guess he can do that without me there, though. Nothing would be stopping him. I haven’t told anyone about this, other than posting it here, for people to sympathise with me over it. Let’s have that Pity Party for me!

On a lighter note, I have a couple of family members who are going to take blood tests and such to see if they match and I can get a kidney from them, possibly. I know my cousin BJ got tested. I’m not sure if I truly need my lung(s) replaced. That’s one of the things we’re going to discuss at the doctor’s office Monday afternoon.

Oh, and my TimeCapsule died and went to hell a week ago. I’ve gone through the motions of removing the hard drive in it (and have the pictures to prove it), and now I am waiting on my check to go into my card so I can get a cord for it. I have another TimeCapsule, but I can’t get the computer to recognise it. I hope that wasn’t the error with my older drive. After harvesting that drive, I feel as though I can harvest the drive from my old strawberry iMac, just to get the data off  it. That would be pretty awesome if I could get that drive too. I may update next with pictures of me harvesting my TimeCapsule drive and the iMac drive, if I can get it out. Right now I have to sit at my desk and update, and that’s a bitch. I usually update from my bed while I’m watching TV. Not anymore! Not until I can figure out how to get that TimeCapsule working. Any suggestions? Advice on anything I’ve posted? Email me if you do. Or leave a comment. Whichever is good for you.

Don’t forget to add my feeds:

here, there, and facebook or just plain add me on facebook. I’ll love you forever!

I had another bout with a blood clot. This time in my right leg. I had severe leg pain and went to the doctor just to be x-rayed, ultra-sound-ed, and told that I needed surgery to remove the clot. I was afraid I was going to miss Christmas. I was absent during my own SITS period, and I’m sure that people out there think I abandoned the site or lied when I said I was going to return comments. I got over sixty comments, and I am trying my best to return them today. I’m just so tired, even after being home a full day. The surgery required a little incision in my chest, which then required sutures to close up. Infection spread within a day of the sutures, causing my delay in getting home, and escalating my sadness for possibly missing Christmas with my family.

I sorely underestimated how much love my family has for me.

They waited for me to get home just to clear a space for the Christmas tree to be put up. For over a week, Dennis fed, clothed, washed and entertained the little ones, going so far as to cancel a meeting with his mates to be at home with the kids. One of the activities they did was make cards and drawings for me, nearly every day, which Dennis brought to me on his daily visits. I did cry when I saw Chloe’s drawing. It was of me, as an angel, with the words: “Don’t spend Christmas with Jesus this year!” at the bottom. I’m not sure why she is so certain that I will not be around to see her grow up. I am going to be around for a very long time, I am planning on that. Something I set my mind to.

Coming home yesterday was a relief. I am thankful all over again for what I have and how I have been blessed in this life. I was thankful for every little thing I had, from  my cell phone, to my bed, to being able to watch TV on my own set. I missed so much by being in the hospital, yet I gained so much in perspective on how much I am loved, appreciated, and thought of by my family. Though there wasn’t really anything that made me think otherwise. *all smiles*

As for my health, my doctor doesn’t know what is wrong with me, or how to “fix” me. He’s actually told me that I will never be cured, and I should make arrangements to reflect that. But why? I don’t feel worse, except for after dinner tonight, I felt as if I was going to throw up, though that may be because I’m not used to eating much lately.

In the end, I feel incredibly lucky to have the family and support that I do. Even in the comments and emails I get from this page, people are so wonderful to me most of the time. Big thank you if you were one of the people who have left me support, humor, and general happiness.

For now, I’m off to bed, to sleep off this nausea and just dream. G’Nite everyone!

The kids ganged around their Hero of Time father, hoping to watch him succeed in beating a video game. All he really managed to succeed in doing was keeping the bed from being made for the past few days, twisting his ankle, and breaking a window, on top of hitting the potted plants in the bedroom, causing them to crash down to the floor. I was glad we don’t have carpeting in the bedroom. It was easy to sweep up the potting soil, but then I had to stop what I was doing and re-pot the plants. Three of which were thorny cacti and my thumb is still burning.

This morning, Chloe announced that she did, indeed, have homework this Thanksgiving weekend. Ok, so maybe she wouldn’t have had any if she had sat down three weeks ago and did it or even started on it. She has a diorama due on Monday, but there is nothing done! I gathered up the supplies for her, and an hour later, she wasn’t doing anything with it. Still watching daddy play his game. I read the directions for the diorama and fine-tuned her supplies, and still she did not touch it. I offered to help her with the cutting and placement. Nope, didn’t interest her.

After dinner tonight, she had the audacity to ask me if I could do the diorama for her! Um, no! She asked Dennis, and he lovingly introduced her to super glue. Yes, super glue! All that accomplished was Chloe gluing my desk drawer shut.

*snarl*

I gathered up her supplies, then gathered her up, and put her in her room and told her she was going to do the project tonight and tomorrow, or she was going to suffer the zero on the assignment. No help from momma or daddy, now. Her reaction was to cry, and scream that I was a bad, abusive mother, then scream for help from her daddy. When I saw the boys giggling about the ordeal where she could see them, I told them to either go back and watch the Link game or go to their room and shut the door. I then closed Chloe’s door and went back to working on sorting laundry. The boys scattered. I haven’t saw them since and I have a feeling I won’t see them until breakfast.

I am glad I took the super glue away from Chloe. She was going to glue my laptop shut and glue my phone’s charging cord to the wall. Little brat! All because I was ‘bothering” her to do her homework. Dennis asked me in mid-battle with some kind of strange monster on the game, if I was sure I had made the right choice in making Chloe do the assignment right that second. “Well, she’s had all month to do it, just now told me that she had an assignment, and so, yeah. I think I made the right choice in making her at least start the project,” I replied.

Upon checking up on her, Chloe had about 70% of the diorama done, and she was sleeping on the covers of her bed. See? It wasn’t that hard!

I have my NanoWriMo to finish and then I have my court on Wednesday. I have to call the judge Monday and tell him that I will be there. I thought the lawyer was going to do that. Oh well. I plan on being there, no matter what.

Hope everyone had a good Thanksgiving, and that your Christmas shopping is going smoothly! Have a good night and a good weekend!

We head back home on Tuesday. Two more days and nights, and then it’s back home to the daily grind. I can’t say that this trip has helped me any, but I can’t say that I’m worse, either. I’m somewhere in between. Tomorrow is my 5th anniversary with Dennis. I hope we celebrate accordingly!  Have a good weekend, a happy Halloween, and I’ll see you next month!

I want to thank everyone who leaves personal support and love for me here. I appreciate it. As for those of you concerned about the personality stealer (which is all that I will refer to her as), I don’t care what she does. If she wants to claim that she and I have the same interests and likes, that’s fine with me. I know that she does not, and in doing so, she isn’t impressing me or anyone out there because I don’t like myself in the state that I am. I feel there is room for improvement and nothing that she says or does will make that any different. It scares me a little to think that she feels that she is a perfect person in mimicking me, and I feel bad for the next person that she pretends to be, but what can one say? I’m annoyed about it a little, and a bit amused, but that is all. Again, thanks for telling me. I appreciate it.

I haven’t been feeling well these past couple of days. I don’t know what it is. I am going to try to clean things up around here and see if I feel any better. I feel pretty bad tonight. Bad enough that I flushed my supper down the toilet rather than eat it. I wasn’t that hungry anyway, and spent a good part of the day trying to sleep. I still feel pretty bad. Back pain. Leg pain. Calf pain. Head aches. I was put on Coumadin a few days ago, and since then I have been a little dizzy. I am thinking of going off of it. I also want to get my act together and see a doctor, even if it is the asshole that I despise, because I need some of my old meds back. I need them to get my life back on track. Or maybe it’s the idea that my mother has been living with us for a year now with no signs of moving out or reconciling with dad? That has always made me feel exhausted because she harps on everything I do, and she can always do so much better than me. On top of that all, she hates Chloe. Yes, she hates her granddaughter for two reasons: One, the girl was born out of wedlock (as if my mother was even married before I was born, and even then, I belonged to another man) and two, I “baby” her too much by getting her a pristine education, won’t let her walk and run the streets at night, and on Halloween I (GASP!) won’t let her trick-or-treat at the registered sex offended (pedophile)’s house! What the hell kind of mom am I, not letting a child who hasn’t hit puberty get molested?!

Okay, I’m being sarcastic and witty. Time to publish my post, close my browser and get to bed!