Archive | December 2013

Not Just Wishful Thinking

Today I was read by a psychic medium.

It wasn’t the first time.  The first time was at least 15 years ago and that guy read pictures and told things about what was going to happen and insanely enough…he was right on about everything he said.  Even the stuff that seemed bizarre … happened.

As for today’s reading, it was a wonderful confirmation of things that I have been hoping and praying for.  Things that I am working on and prepping for and that needed validation.

First of all, it was last minute.  I had no idea I was going so there was no prep time for him to research who I was and to feed me some crap that he could find out online.  Nope.  It was nothing like that.  He started off by telling me something that happened to my stepfather last week.  Something no one knows.  Good start.

He moved on to tell me that my maternal grandmother was present and that even though I had never met her (she died 8 days before I was born), she has been with me my whole life.  And that she was very sharp tongued and blunt when she said…my husband was dead weight.  Lol…can you imagine?

He said to me, “You are working alone in that marriage.  You take care of everything.  It’s almost as if he feels he has earned or is entitled to sitting back and you taking care of it all.  You work, you make sure everything is okay with the kids and you take care of the house.  And he does nothing.”

Continuing on he said, “Even for Christmas you did everything.  And he didn’t do a single thing and didn’t worry about it because he knew you’d take care of it.”  Now let me elaborate on how true this is…I bought the (6ft. real) tree…brought it home…put it in the stand…decorated it…decorated the front window and the house…bought ALL of the gifts and wrapped everything, etc.  Luckily, the kids and I were blessed that he had to work Christmas day.  Best gift we’ve gotten in a long time!  Point being…the medium was, yet again, correct.

He continued on to tell me how everything is going to be okay…and that there is happiness in my future.  He confirmed that once my son graduates high school the opportunity will present itself and when it does, leave.  He said, “Do not worry.  You have sacrificed your happiness for the sake of your kids for all these years.  Now it is your time.”

He told me how my marriage was solely meant for my children and nothing else.  Which is something I have said before.  I have felt for a long time my kids were a part of God’s plan and that was why I ended up with my husband.  He also brought up my Ex and confirmed things about him and about us that I already knew to be true.  So that was comforting to hear.

My grandmother had a few more choice words to say about my husband.  I believe he may have picked up on the abuse but possibly didn’t want to go there being as we only had a limited amount of time.  He also hit on other areas of my life that were very accurate. One of them being, “I don’t mean to be rude but your sex life sucks”. (As discussed in Let’s Talk About Sex so we know that’s accurate!)

There was a group of people to see him and not one of us left him without tears in our eyes.  Even the men that got a reading came back crying.  The one thing that I find strange is…he asked all the others except for me and my friend who was hosting the gathering if they had any questions for him.  He didn’t ask me that.  He straight out told me…”when you need me…call me.”  That’s the only thing I find a little creepy.

Otherwise…it was great validation to know that I am on the right path to my exit from this life.  Everything I have been feeling and been aware of for all these years seems to be accurate.  I didn’t really question my own judgment in the first place but it is comforting to know that this is something the universe is confirming and that it’s…not just wishful thinking.

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To read from the beginning… my story starts here.

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The Ranting Narcissist

A few weeks ago, I called into my voicemail to record a classic rant.  Since then, I’ve been deciding on whether or not to post here.  It was a minor nothing situation.  Those are usually the kind that create such an intense ongoing out loud battle with no one.  Just him ranting and raving to no one and to no end…just to be heard.

Let me paint this scenario.  It was a Sunday evening, approximately 6:00pm.  This is his day off and as of late he has been using these days to do absolutely nothing except lay on the couch, watch full seasons of whatever tv show strikes his fancy on Netflix, getting up only to get something to eat and go to the bathroom.

When he watches television…the volume is on – if you’re not deaf now you will be in a half hour – and because the bulk of his day is basically him sprawled out on the couch, the kids and I usually utilize that time and stay in our rooms.  But when I came down to start dinner he decided it was time for company.  So now he calls my son down…who is undoubtedly on the laptop which is where he spends most of his downtime.  We all know this “company” time is completely uncomfortable yet we all have conformed to placate him to a certain degree of our unrest just to keep him silent.  My son comes down and like any normal human with normal hearing asks him in a normal tone of voice to lower the volume.  My husband did go to lower the volume via remote but it wasn’t budging.  Either he was hitting the wrong button or the batteries got loose (like when you have to whack the remote a couple of times and then the buttons work again). Whatever the situation, my son asked again and that’s pretty much what set him off.

Warning: This may be a trigger for those who can no longer tolerate a man screaming and cursing.  Below is a transcript of the bullshit.  And let me just say…this went on for at least a half hour.  I made a four minute recording for this post because that’s all I can tolerate.

“…But no that’s not good enough, that’s not good enough.  They start me up and then I go crazy.  And then they say about it…oh look he started, he’s doing this, or look at that, look at him, look at the way he’s talking, the way he’s fighting.  But does anybody hear me explain what the fuck is going on? I’m not doing nothing wrong?  But no…”

Me interjecting…”All he said was to lower the volume, he didn’t know the remote wasn’t working!”

“If I’m trying to lower the fucking volume in front of his face … are you fucking an idiot?  You know.  Don’t come downstairs if you are going to be like a fucking dick.  But he can’t come down now.  You know.  This is what I mean.  Don’t do that to my mind.  Why are you doing that to my mind?  What did I do wrong?  I couldn’t lower down the fucking thing? I couldn’t lower the fucking volume down?  You know.  Fucking idiots.  That’s how it’s going to be all fucking day now (note…this was already 6:30pm).  They can’t listen to me, they can’t hear me?  But no…then they start me up.  That’s how I do it.  That’s how I do it now.”

“I just have to go crazy in this house.  My head is…  Again, I was quiet.  I was relaxed.  I was happy.  Then here comes this guy from upstairs with an atti-fucking-tude that … I hope he’s not on the computer.  I swear I hope he’s not on the computer.  Cause if he is on the computer… I break it today.  I’ll let you know that right now.”

My son interjects… “I’m not on the computer I’m laying down…okay?!”

“…He comes down here with an attitude, you know what? Do me a big fucking favor…don’t come down here.  I was here all fucking day without a word coming out of my fucking mouth.  I was happy.  I ate my ice cream.  I made a little sandwich.  I watched my tv show.  I’m laying down.  BOOM…comes down with an attitude.  Why the fuck is he coming down with an attitude?  Because I couldn’t lower the fucking lower the fucking thing on time?  And then when I say something he’s got a fucking bitch attitude?  But no this is better…me…right now, right?  This is what you like hearing…me every time going crazy, right?  I guess so.  I guess so … because you always do it.  Always do it.  Bunch of idiots.  A whole bunch of idiots. Let’s hope I try to relax.  Nobody can say, you know what…he’s happy.  Let me start him up.  Nobody can say you know what, let me shut the fuck up, let me not say nothing to him  (?) … You got me. I wasn’t doing nothing wrong…you know? But no. They had to find something.  The remote control.  The remote control was not operating right.  You know? Then I’m wrong.  I am wrong.  You know?”

There you have it.  This can pretty much go on any day, any time, for an undetermined length of time.  This is what I deal with nowadays in lieu of beatings.  Joy.

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To read from the beginning… my story starts here.

Back to Business

How the hell did I let two weeks go by without posting something?  I blame it on the holiday season.  Everything gets extremely hectic.  Running around in preparation for everyone else to be happy while you (hopefully) sit back with your feet up and a glass of wine, completely exhausted and thankful it’s all over.  Yeah well….that’s not really the reason.  Boring old excuse…work.  Crazy busy and I am not complaining just had to put my priorities into perspective and even though I would have GLADLY chosen WP over work…truth be told, blogging doesn’t pay the bills.

However, I have been doing some behind the scenes legwork.  Overall, this journey has been the most amazing experience for me in terms of growth and understanding what I want for my future.  I can see it, smell it and even taste it.  It’s just so….so…right there.  Yet, some days I feel numb.  Paralyzed.  I know what needs to be done (massive preparation) and I have 100% faith that I will get it done.  I’m nothing if not determined and once I set my mind to something I don’t stop until I get what I want.  My peace of mind is what I want and I am so excited for what my future holds.  There is just this undeniable lingering feeling that I am somehow missing something.  No matter what plans I put down on paper, I feel as if it is not enough to actually pull it off.  Maybe it’s fear?  I don’t feel scared.  I feel capable.  But there is something.  I just can’t put my finger on it.

To further my therapeutic process, I decided to start enlisting survivors.  Those of you that made it out.  That no matter how many times you tried before, the day came where the stars aligned and your head, your heart and your body agreed and you got the hell out of there.  Those stories will be posted on my sister-blog (Your Path to Peace).

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Those of you who are wiling to do so, please share with me your story of escape.  Not only for my sake but for those who are also still in an abusive situation who just cannot find their strength yet.  This may be just what is needed.  Those stories of…if I can do it…so can you.  They are powerful.  They need to be heard.  It may be more helpful then any of us are aware of.

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To read from the beginning… my story starts here.

If Looks Could Kill

Sure, we’ve all heard that saying before but how many of us have really put thought into what it is actually implying?  I’d assume a perfectly happy go lucky – dare I say – normal person just sees the passing comment as a whimsical way to describe someone who gave a dirty look to another person for whatever reason.  Maybe if you are standing next to some random person in a department store and they sneeze in your direction – that warrants one of those nasty looks of disgust that we may describe as such.  However, as a woman who has felt the wrath of abuse by none other than her own husband…my take on the phrase runs far deeper.

In the very early stages of my marriage, I was young and naive.  There was a part of me who a) thought he really didn’t mean it, and b) thought I could somehow change his ways.  That in itself is hysterically funny. Well, at least it is in hindsight. Poor little naive girl.  When the hate sunk in – and boy oh boy did it sink in deep – I prayed over and over for his death.  Nights when he went out with co-workers and came home late I sat there first pissed like who the fuck is he to come home whenever the hell he wants but I have to give him a freaking weeks notice for when I may be going out and get harassed about it every day until the day arrived. Oops, got a little sidetracked there. Sorry.  As I was saying, once I started to hate him from my very core, I prayed for his death and before he’d get home from wherever I pretended that instead of him coming to the door the police would come to inform me of a horrific accident that took his life.  I always wondered…upon hearing that news…would I smile or would I cry?  Would I laugh hysterically and ask the officers…is this real?  Would I feel the delight rise within me but muster up a tear for sake of the sad wife?  Would I then close the door and skip around my house with sheer joy??  Oh how I hoped and prayed.

Then at some point, I realized I was doing it all wrong.  How likely was it that he would be struck down just because I had wished it to be so?  We blow out candles and make a birthday wish every year.  How often do those wishes come true?  Actually, I used my birthday wishes for his death too.  Sometimes that he would just leave.  And some that I would eventually get my life back.  To date, the wish thing hasn’t worked either.  I figured all of this begging for his death was more likely keeping him alive.  That was by far the absolute last thing I wanted to do.  So I stopped.

Instead I began to imagine things in the middle of arguments.  He’d be screaming at me and I’d visualize me getting up and ramming a butcher knife into his throat.  I know, that’s pretty extreme.  On the nicer end of the spectrum I would just punch him in the face uncontrollably for far longer than I’d be able to in reality.  Then came along…the mafia.  I’ve always felt an admiration for those guys.  Yes, some of them are cold blooded killers but who cares.  We all have our issues.  Point being, I couldn’t get enough. The men we saw on the news being paraded into the courthouses with a smile on their face, knowing they would not be going to jail. Confident. Of course the movies glamorize it all and really give you a taste of what these guys have done.  Scenes of torture, death and dismemberment soothed me while my husband would go on and on.  He was on a rampage and I could see his mouth being taped up, his wrists being taped up, and him being bludgeoned before being cut into pieces.  Even with every name he was yelling at me…my soul felt calm and relaxed.  Keep talking mother fucker.

Again, I knew that all of the above was never really going to happen but damn it felt so good to imagine it all.  Drawn and quartered, suffocated with a pillow, poisoned, tied up and slowly removed body part -slowly- piece by piece, day by day. Small things at first, just for torture sake, so he could live through the pain.  Oh how I longed to hear the cries of torture.  Even now, sometimes I can see his skin being ripped from his body as he has one of his fits about his usual narcissistic bullshit.  Even better, when we go on vacation, we are usually on a lake with private access.  Such a shame…he can’t swim.  What a shame if we went out on a boat to fish and we tipped over….oopsie.

At the very, very least I imagine that he see the err of his ways and allow me to do everything to him that he has done to me.  The excitement that thought brings to my heart…indescribably priceless.  However, karma – the beautiful thing that it is – has started to come around.  He has had rheumatoid arthritis for quite a number of years now.  So he is always in pain.  It’s quite lovely, actually.  Just to sit back and hear him scream out in pain.  Especially this time of year with the cold weather upon us.  Yes, it is true, what goes around does come around.  He is only at the beginning stages.  Here’s to many more years of your suffering – fuckhead.

Somehow, I have a feeling I’m not the only one who has had these thoughts about their abuser.  What were yours?

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To read from the beginning… my story starts here.

Five Year Plan

When I decide to post something it’s because I can feel it physically.  The emotional need and desire to write.  Almost beyond my control, what I want to say just rises within me and…I write.  Some sort of purge, I guess.  Whatever it is…once I get it out onto “paper” I feel better and it’s gone.  Giving it up and out for the universe to take it away from me.  On days when I don’t feel the urge to write, I literally feel calm and rested.  For the past couple of days though it’s been so emotionally bizarre for me. I’d stare at the screen ready to post and it was just inner madness.  So strange.  The best way I can explain it is like seeing bits and pieces of debris flying out from a spinning tornado.  Except this debris was whatever it is I need(ed) to get off my chest but I just couldn’t focus.  It wasn’t clear.  It still may not be clear but here I am.

I’ve been thinking about it for a couple of weeks now and today I decided to just do it.  Meditate.  Quite literally, like less than two hours ago I just gave it a shot.  I did some research and read all about my energy and chakras and just went for it.  Let me say, it felt good. Like really good.  I think it will definitely help my clarity and focus on what lies ahead of me. I am excited to start this new endeavor.  I’ll take it day by day and see how it goes.

As far as this post goes…my five year plan.  This is one of those “assignment” type activities teachers / therapists give to help – I don’t know what – help us realize we only think in the now? Give us an outline to guide us through our future?  Who knows?  I just figured this might be something good for me to do.  I am the type of personality that needs to see that plan, work out the kinks and put it into action.  Now, this is just a general overview but I trust that putting it out there will definitely provoke me to follow through.

Not sure how to start this so bear with me.

My main goal, obviously, is to be far gone from my current situation.  I trust that in five years this life will be nothing but a distant memory.  Something I lived in a different lifetime.  I will be happy and at peace with my new life.  Well earned and much deserved.

I look forward to living on my own.  After all, I went from living with my parents to living with my husband.  I never had the opportunity to be in a self-sustaining environment.  Even though I have always been independent, I have been either a dependent of my parents or depended on by my husband.  In five years from now, I will be happy and content in my surroundings, be them a studio apartment, a trailer, or a house that needs some TLC.  It will be mine to come home to and be at peace in.

At present, I work at home and run my own business. It is something I can do no matter where I go but if for some reason I need to go back into the working world on the outside, I am fine with that too.  In fact, in five years I may need that face to face humanity.  So be it at a desk, behind a cash register or in some form of help to those who have gone through the same life I have, so be it. I am ready. I have thrived in every job I’ve ever held and I would accept and embrace the change.

In December 2018, I don’t know if I will necessarily be in a new relationship, a rekindled one, or just on my own.  At this very moment, it actually doesn’t matter.  I don’t see that part of my new life as being an issue.  The important part will be for me to be able to live on my own first. A relationship is not necessary and doesn’t define me.  However, in five years I have no doubt I will know where I stand as far as this part of my life is concerned.

At some point in time, whether or not it will fall within the five years or shortly thereafter, I want to travel.  Not so much around the U.S. – that can be done anytime – mostly, I have a deep desire to go to Italy, at least sometime before I die, to the town where my great grandfather is from and just soak in my heritage.  It’s actually been about five years since I started genealogy research on that side of my family and the amount of new information I’ve come across that no one else in my family knew is overwhelming and I just need to feel that in person.  And, of course, eat the food.

This is all I have at the moment.  I feel better.  The tornado has stopped spinning and something made it out of my mind and onto the screen.  Wishing us all inner peace. ❤

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To read from the beginning… my story starts here.