My ex knows how to push my buttons, and for the last week he has done that pretty much every damn day, to the point that he had me so angry yesterday that I wanted to go out and just beat the dog mess outta the first fool that crossed me and that looked enough like him to satisfy the itch.
Its not that I have not got my temper under control, I do. But understand, I do.not. have. any. outlets. other. than.writing. I am starting to go a little crazy. I haven't had sex in so damn long that I think my parts have forgotten how things are supposed to work, and that is really damn frustrating. Its been difficult to get out and go running or get in a good workout due to scheduling hassles and having kids making it difficult to sneak out for a run in the wee hours of the morning without worrying about them waking up and freaking out that im not home,(its happened before) so I have been a slack ass, lazy bum lately and the tension is killing me. Not having a guitar around to plink on,even badly, is also a drag. I was working on re-learning how to play, and even though the damage to my hands makes it difficult, I found it soothing to at least try, and I know that Chance felt the same way. The one bright spot has been the goofy little cat we got. He is a royal pain in the ass, and he yells at me and right now he is biting the shit outta my ear, but he is so funny and its kinda soothing to have him just lay up around the back of my neck on the couch and purr in my ear,(right before he bites the crap outta me and then shoots off into the kitchen to yell for something to eat), and he harasses Chance when he tries to sleep on the floor. Seeing him follow Stevie around and grab onto her monkeys and attack them,cracks me up! She tries to make him behave and he just rolls up in her skinny monkey and starts kicking it and biting and making little growling sounds until she shakes him loose by picking it up and running off with it, and then he just sits there looking after her like,'Hey! bring him back, hes got a purty mouth." hes already litter trained and he damn sure lets us know when hes hungry by yelling at us, so I next week we are scheduling him to get fixed and a good check up so he will be set for awhile and then I am going to get him on a food that hopefully will take care of his gas problem, because for a tiny little cat, he can just about clear a damn room, and considering he likes to hang out around peoples heads and neck areas, thats a bit of a problem. The cat has been a good thing for all of us, and a welcome distraction from the bullshit of the ex calling and stressing me pretty much every damn day, but even with little Jasper,(yes, the fecking name has stuck and I still flip Chance crap over it), I still fume every time my phone goes off with my ex's ring tone. Used to be, I would be happy to hear from my boys, but I rarely get to talk to my boys much, instead it is him, either yelling at me or just bitching and complaining about something that he thinks I am to blame for . I did not make him a lazy,shiftless bastard. I did not make him an abuser that found it necessary to brutalize me and my eldest son. My ex does not realize how lucky he is to be alive I think. He hates me for sending him to prison, but the alternative was killing him and I was going to do it, because I am a person very capable of wrath and hate and when he beat my 12 year old son in front of me like a bad dog, I burned with a hate that has not abated. Yes, the courts system dealt with him. Yes, I got him the maximum sentence for the charges the piece of shit county attorney felt capable of pursuing, but, my son did not get justice. My son was called names like,'bastard', "stupid", and other things that no child should hear, he witnessed things that no child should see, and he is scarred as a result of it. All my kids have to live with my anger and damage, and though I am working on it, the end result is, I am still not the mom I should be, and when he calls and verbally abuses me over the phone, and tells me that he isn't providing for my boys that he kept, in the way that they should be provided for, I get angry all over again. I cannot just refuse to take his calls, because he has my two youngest sons, and if I dont take his calls, he wont let me know how they are doing and I wont be able to talk to them. I miss my boys soo badly, and I worry about them every day, and if the courts in Arizona had been in any way accessible to me, I would have taken them and run, but the judge that granted him 50/50 custody of them and refused to put them on the restraining order,AFTER HE TOOK THE STRAIGHT RAZOR TO ME, was still the judge in charge of our custody case, and until he retires in December, I am stuck, but once that bastard is gone, I am filing for a change and I am getting my kids, unless of course he manages to lose the house before then, and if that happens, I will get my boys sooner, but either way, its most likely a damn good thing there is a good amount of distance between us, because something in me shifts when one of my loved ones gets hurt, and my son is still hurting and God help my bastard ex if he hurts one of my other babies, because no one else will be able to.
I was evaluating my tattoos the other day. I have had tattoos for the last 15 or so years and I designed them all myself, and while the original designs had special meaning, one the application, some of them were not done properly and I have to get that fixed. My best tattoo is the one on my left arm, its my feather and I have had it the longest out of all of my tatts. I got it when I lost you, and after I did a lot of research on our family heritage and the meanings of the various feathers. Being that the native blood runs so strong on both sides, I thought the feather was the best choice, and then I went with Lakotah symbolism for great grandma. The feather is split at the bottom to symbolize the loss from a loved one,(since you are gone I am the only one in the family left that cuts my hair to mourn our losses as well), the end is red to symbolize wounded in battle, and the blue beads at the top symbolize my two children that I had at the time, and the bear claw on the leather thong hanging to the side,symbolizes our family clan and you.The rest of the feather is battered and damaged, but pure white that symbolizes that even though many hurts have occurred, I have remained pure at heart. I didnt go into this one lightly and it has always been my favorite and I had a brilliant artist in Yuma do it.The one on my chest is of a grizzly standing in a forest fire, and it has a lot of personal meaning that I dont share, but its meaning has morphed and changed over the years, even though the tatt has stayed the same. The one on my right arm is a shining example of what can happen when someone else controls your life. Its the state of Texas that was being done to cover a poorly done bear paw, and the artist stopped at what he felt was a prudent place to cease because I had a very large area of skin that was raw, bleeding and open to infection if not allowed to heal, so I went home with the plan of going back in 2 weeks and getting it finished. That evening, my ex was pissed at me for being gone for a few hours. It was a stressful scene at the house, and I had taken my bandage off to show him what I had been doing,(he always hated my bear paw and wanted it gone), and while it was uncovered, Stevie, who was 10 months old), grabbed my tattoo with her grubby, poopy hand. By the next morning I had the tell-tale lines of blood poisoning already down to below my elbow and I had a fever of 103. I ended up having to have an iv of antibiotics and the tat had to be scrubbed and debrided like a burn. I was not allowed to go back to get it finished and the scarring is a reminder that sometimes fuck ups cannot be fixed easily, though I am planning on seeing what it will take to get it the rest of the way filled in, now that I am now in control of things. My motto is on my back. I wrote it and I designed it, and the fact that it is in Latin is significant because I love Latin, and my High School guidance counselor told me I was not smart enough to take Latin in high school, so I took it in college, and that is where I wrote my own motto, as a testament to my family heritage and my love of my children. Its ," Ex Animos Venio, Propter Amore Audeo" or "From Courage I Come, For Love I Dare" and it honors the tough as nails, refuse to give up and die, Scot/Irish/Native ancestors who always seemed to end up in the thick of battle with none of the glory, but are the ones that made this country strong.
My other tattoo is a screwed up mess that was started but not finished on my back, of bear paws working their way up my spine, and is a testament to the ability of my ex to raise my blood pressure to points that scare people. Its also one on my "fix" list. But my next, new tattoo is going to be the most light hearted and fun one, and though all my tats are on my upper body, the kids are advocating for me to either put this one on my lower back just above my butt, or on my leg, though I was thinking of putting it on my left forearm or even my right chest.I have to find an artist I can trust though, I didnt have very good luck in Flagstaff because the last guy seemed incapable of grasping what I really wanted, and tattoos are not something that I go into with the thought that they could get removed, I go into mine for life and they are not flash, they are keepers for life that are a part of me that I control and they cover up and incorporat the marks that others have left, in more ways than one.
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