Friday, June 10, 2011

No Pictures Please

Yes, I know it's been a while.
But I've been busy....sort of.

I decided that today would be the day that I write a new post, lucky for you. See, as I was typing into Google "I hate my child's father" sort of inspired me - I could just write about some of the crazy shit that he did whilst we were together. People love reading about other people misery.

Oh, another piece of news, I just found out that I passed my occupational licensing exam. That's good I guess. I mean, I can hear it now..."way to go!!" and "you must be so proud" and "you have done so well". Blah blah blah. I mean, don't get me wrong, it's all nice to hear. But I am more like "okay, get over'd been 4's about time I did something". I mean, isn't there some statute of limitations on getting your shit in order?? I'm over it, let's move on.

I get though, from an outside perspective - I am pretty much a living breathing miracle. But miracles are just miracles - they just are and it's isn't a big deal. The true miracle in ALL of this is that I am not HIV positive. I am still astounded by that.

So anyways, I rule.


You must have heard or read stories about abusive relationships and also about the paranoia associated with using crystal meth (hereafter to be referred to as speed. I hate the word "meth". Speed is so much dirtier and awesome and I just feel like that word sums "it" up so much more. Gibb is a good word too. of course, maybe it is spelled with a J but for some reason I always think of it with a G and a double B). This afternoon, as I was watching my son's Dad put him in the car seat to take him overnight (relax people, he has been clean for years too - otherwise I would not allow my son to be anywhere near him) I realized how f*cking crazy it is that I had a kid with this guy. This nightmare of an individual. I mean, who knew?

I am sure I told you all about how we met. It was a blistery and cold November night..he pulled up in his Ford Explorer (still hate those trucks to this day) and asked me if I wanted to hang out. Really, that's what he said. Like, he doesn't want ME, a prostitute, thinking he picks up prostitutes. And actually we didn't have sex that night. It was an okay time, he gave me money for dope - that was all I needed. Took me to his house - so I wasn't cold. But what is it with guys, they always want to save you. I mean, sure, I lived a miserable life but it was mine and I was only unhappy when I was dope sick. Which was only every single f*cking morning, not too often.

Anyways, if I had known then what I know now...the thing is, is that I couldn't get away from him. I would have been perfectly happy living with him and being "allowed" to go make money. But nooooo - that wasn't okay with him. Initially it was, but eventually no. Of course, when he had no money the cash I brought in was good enough to feed him and his habit.

I've already told you all this, you know, when he physically attacked me, etc. It is in previous posts. I wanted to get away from him. I ran away but I knew eventually he would find me. All he had to do was look - I was going to be downtown - I was terrified that he would find me at 3am in some dark alley and slit my throat. No joke, I really thought that. He was crazy - and the speed didn't help. He was convinced that the driving school that always took student drivers on a route that led past his house was not a driving school at all-it was a secret society of people watching him. He made lists of license plate numbers constantly, convinced that they were repeated hovering around him.

He was always so paranoid. He HATED any honking sound around him. Was sure it was a conspiracy of individuals that were communicating with each other via honking their vehicle horns. One time I was on the phone with him and a car honked in the background of wherever I was and he freaked. These are mild examples.

Once we had moved away from my red zone his behavior continued and escalated. And once he had me isolated it was even more alarming. By this point I was on methadone maintenance and was only using speed with him. Well, not WITH him. He would just give me some before he went out for days at a time. Or he would share with me and force me to go and help him "make money" in various shifty and sketchy ways. These times were the worst. I mean, ladies that have been in abusive relationships can relate. ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING you do is wrong.

We did the typical things..and this is humiliating to admit but we used to do that scrap metal thing. You know, go in to abandoned houses late at night and raid it for copper, aluminum..anything of value. Initially this was sort of fun, using speed sort of added to the effect of was like being super f*cking excited about going on a treasure hunt. But, after a bit, his paranoia got worse and I wasn't ever allowed out of his sight or allowed in a different room as he was convinced that there was another guy in there and for sure I was blowing him. He would run into the room and be so sure that he was going to bust me on my knees in front of some street urchin, but it never happened. As if I would do that - do that and risk death upon discovery??
I wouldn't even make eye contact with men, and I would pray that no one would speak to me ever because that would get me in big trouble. It sounds so insane when I say this but it's true. He was totally text book. One time he accused me of having an affair with the guy at a pizza place because i took too long getting our food. He even told me he was sure that "our" son wasn't his at all, that he had been sired by my sister's husband.

One time, we were living in this basement suite (I always insisted on basement suites because I knew there was people upstairs so they would hear me scream if he was trying to murder me) and he had come home from a few days out and he asked me how I was. Or something like that, he would never say that exactly, more like "what the f*ck have you been doing for the last 2 days?" and I had been watching alot of CSI. I was bored, all I could do was watch TV and I proceeded to tell him about how Gary Sinise from one of the CSIs did a cameo on another CSI (I know, very engaging conversation - but I had to say something or he would accuse me of sh*t and I was just trying to make small talk) and wow, he totally lost it.

See, stupid me, I wasn't even thinking. Just by coincidence the family that lived upstairs from us had a 16 year old son named Gary. No big deal right? WRONG. He, in his twisted mind, thought I was telling him about Gary Sinise verbally but mentally I was making love to the 16 year old boy that lived upstairs and actually been doing that in real life for some time. It was this night that he actually told me he WAS going to kill me. In fact, he just leaned in real close and said "you're dead" and when I said "I'm sorry, ****, I am so sorry, I didn't mean anything by it" he said "oh, you are gonna say my name huh?? Say my name so they know it's me??!!". Like, who else would it be? Retard.

He ended up taking off and I just went to bed. See, I was on methadone, like I said, and could pretty much fall asleep at anytime if I stayed still long enough. Anyways, I went to bed. And he came back like 4 times that night. And every single time he would just walk in the house, rip off my blankets to see if I was in street clothes and not in my pajamas. He was sure he had seen me in a few cars passing by him while he was driving. Was sooo sure he would come home to bust me. But no.....spazz, I was in bed not out prowling the streets like him.

It's amazing that I had a baby with this guy. My son came home from a visit with his Dad a couple of weeks ago and said "Mummy, Daddy had a sleep over" and as I questioned him (my son) it all came out. He has a girlfriend. Great, soo glad, finally. Of course, I do feel sorry for her. Even though he isn't using anymore - he is still an idiot. But I asked him about it, I just wanted to make sure she wasn't a nutcase or a dope addict if she is going to be around my son. But then he proceeds to tell me he isn't really into her anyways and it's sort of weird, etc. Like as if I care. I am just glad he has moved on, it's been forever.

But then, the next day I get an email from him and it was all "Oh, I want to ask you some questions but I get all nervous and filled with butterflies...did you ever love me?" (NO) and then goes on to say "You are such a good mother to our son" (I know that, and don't need or want to hear that from you) and "I am so proud of how far you have come" (BARF, seriously, that makes me want to vomit - I am not kidding, my mouth is watering right now just thinking about it. Proud of ME? Again, don't want or need to hear that from you) and then, and I get this quite often "You looked so beautiful when I picked up **** the other night..." UGH. Beautiful? How so? Was it the fact that I was geeking out in my broken glasses that are being held together with electrical tape or the mustard stain on my t shirt?? I usually don't look my best when he comes by.

Anyways, surrender the fantasy, buddy. I can honestly say, that even if he was the last man on Earth would I NEVER. EVER. People always say that the day their child was born was the best day of their life..not so with me. The best day was the day I left my son's Dad. And it was 4 years ago on June 3rd.