Julie's Blog

Drops of water make their way down my neck and follow the creases of my body until they finally join the pool of water at my waist. The tub water is still hot and the tension of the day seems to bleed into it leaving me breathing slowly and steadily once again. My head has been cast back against a folded white towel, cushioned for comfort. The telephones are turned off, the music is on and the scent of the bath salts makes me feel deliciously at peace. This was a tough day. So many memories exploded in my conscious and so much to do. Nothing seemed to go right and I was feeling that dreaded “I’m so damn alone” feeling. I had even let myself speculate as to how long I would have to be dead of some odd household mishap for someone to notice I was gone, lol. We all have those days when the past comes so close to us again and we wonder what it’s all for. I’m no different. Most of my friends would describe me as terminally happy, well grounded, and positive. They would say that I am a survivor and nothing keeps me down. I’m the one in the group that even trained counselors come to for advice. But here in my little trailer I do not feel that way at all sometimes and tranquility is leagues beyond my reach. I am like everyone else; I desire what I cannot have, lust for the boy that doesn’t know I’m alive and I feel sorry for myself because I’m the fat chick. I have been asked how I remain so uplifted. Here is my secret to bringing myself in from the storm and out of the lava pit. It’s very simple and very effective. It can be a bit harsh but bear with me, it works…for me at least  When my daughter was four months old we lived in a roach infested trailer in Seffner, Florida. It was the kind of place that even the food in the refrigerator was kept in airtight containers and when you turned on the light in the middle of the night, the whole room buzzed and moved with millions of little creatures. It was a remote trailer park, not as much because of its geographical location, but because not one family member had ever been there and the only phone was a payphone in the middle of the park with no lighting at all. My ex-husband liked our little desert island. It suited his personality and his lifestyle very well; there was nowhere to hide and no one to look to for rescue. The argument started earlier in the day. I do not know what the cause was only that it was my fault. I was shaking inside all evening as I fed Ashton and Troy dinner. By this time Troy was not speaking to me and took every opportunity to “accidently” slam me up against something or push me. I knew that when I put our daughter down for the night I was supposed to “apologize” which was usually done by oral favor in my home. So when I laid her down and she fell asleep I sat on the couch with my silently seething husband and waited… The thought of his touch made me want to throw up and this time, I couldn’t bring myself to do what he wanted. So he took it and I tried to be quiet so that Ashton didn’t wake up. But when I thought he was asleep I snuck outside and tried to make a collect call to my mother. She was asking me where I was. She heard the desperation in my voice and tried to get me to give her some good directions…then he slapped me so hard on the side of my head that I saw stars and slammed the receiver down. In the middle of this trailer park at 12:30am, Troy was shouting at me and slapping me. “You think you’re going to leave me bitch?” slap, “get in the fuckin’ house” slap. Not one light turned on in the windows and not one person on the street asked questions. I knew what was coming. I tried to numb myself to it. I had to keep quiet because Ashton would wake up and cry and he would go and hit her too. He threw me onto the mattresses that we used for a bed in our room and he stood above me kicking me and in his low toned and evil voice he kept telling me that I would be dead before I ever left him. I said I would have him arrested this time and all he did was kick me some more and tell me that I would be dead before the police got there and what do I think he would do with our daughter? Later tranquility was when he allowed me to sleep on the couch because every time I moved the pain in my ribs and back was horrendous and he didn’t want to hear the noise. Back then peace was when I didn’t have to perform sexual favors to be allowed to buy panties for me or diapers for our baby. Tranquility was at its best when he had a good month and I only had a couple of bruises. So the secret? I remind myself that I may not interest the man of my dreams. I may be alone 95% of the time. My work may drive me nuts, I may be the fat chick and I will probably always want something I can’t have. But today tranquility is not found in a puddle of pain on a ratty old sofa trying hard not to wake my sleeping child with my cries. Today it is found in the little oasis of my trailer in a tub of clean water, and with a great many friends that care for me and think I’m amazing. So it isn’t a secret is it? Tranquility lies in gratitude and hope. It is in the tiny little things we take for granted like a place without roaches, a body without bruises, the power to forgive and give of myself freely and a life where I have learned how all of that was worth becoming who I am at this very moment 

Letting go after a break up is a process and it is different for each of us and both sexes handle it in completely different ways. Most men compartmentalize. That is that they are able to put the person and their grief into a "compartment" in their minds and lock it away thereby separating it completely from their lives until they either revisit it or permanently delete it. Women more often than not put a relationship to rest by trying to "understand" it. They look for information and things that may have been hidden and then they use this to grieve and eventually heal and move on. Men go into a"cave" of sorts to grieve, rest and heal quietly. Women usually involve their friends and grieve out in the open. It is also proven that men tend to grieve for much longer because they hide their feelings and keep to themselves. Either way you never know what a person's process is and it is truly best to respect whatever process they use. And just because they tend to speak to you or use your council during that time, doesn't mean they are not letting go. Nothing in life is ever truly what it seems and what may seem like holding on to you, may be the process of letting go for someone else. In my own situation I have learned to reach out to others because I know from personal experience what happens when I go it alone. In trying to understand I sent an email to my ex that was intercepted by his ex because his inability/unwillingness to speak to me led me incorrect information to begin with. Now she keeps emailing me and I didn't know whether to block her or defend him. The words this person says are of no concern to me as I do not believe any of it. I do not read her emails out of a sadistic need to further hurt myself, I never expected her to email again at all because I told her I'm not interested. I did block her after seeking advice from others. I was able to speak several times with my ex's friend, but I fear he feels as if I am putting him in the middle or that I have solicited this woman's input. He has been very kind to me and I do not wish to make him feel that way. He gave me some good advice today but it isn't about wanting to move on, my ex leaves me no choice but to move on. What I WANT has not been of any consequence. My process of letting go has been difficult and fraught with self doubt, but in life things sometimes do not go our way. I accept that and it is ok. But healing is different for everyone, there is no time limit as long as you are still functioning in your life and your process is healthy. Here are some hints for both sexes when moving on: Men: Tell her why you are opting out. Listen to her concerns and yes even her tears. Do not cut all communication unless you have first ended it verbally and understand that humans feel anger, hurt and betrayal. You might not like what she has to say to you. But know that if you give her the info she needs, she won't have to go looking and you will both heal faster. Remember that if you can talk her into being with you, you can help her to let go. Women: Allow him to tell you why he is leaving. Do not cut him off, do not scream and yell and above all do not beg, it just makes him retreat further and try to accept what he is telling you. In your quest for information try not to let lose a flood of bullshit. Rely on the man you knew and what you know he would or would not do. Focus on yourself and comfort yourself in healthy ways. Tell him how you feel and keep a journal. It all comes down to a very simple idea: Be good to each other and respect each other. The person you are breaking with used to be the most important person in your world..

Kenny hardly spoke to me yesterday and never called. He is in Colorado offloading somewhere near Aurora. I was worried but I simply text him that I hoped he was resting and that he was ok. At work I get a lot of over-reactive females asking me about boyfiriends who do not call or text in relatively small amounts of time. So I know how we women can get, LOL. This is my first relationship since my marriage ended and sometimes I drive my friends crazy asking questions. But I never drive HIM crazy because I know I tend to get scared... Sometimes I worry that he will take advantage of the fact that I do not bitch or demand. My attitude is that something is or it is not and I cannot make something what it was never meant to be. So I wait for my sexxy truck driver and irritate me friends instead :) So, when I recieved no texts or calls I waited and I went about my day as usual. I went to sleep at about 11 and when he called at 1:30am I was so tired I didn't answer, I just put it in my head that he rang the phone, so he's safe. A few minutes ago I recieved several msgs from Kenny that were sent yesterday! He had been trying to text to say he loved me and that he was ok all day yesterday. He text from Kansas City, Kansas all the way to Aurora, Colorado. I am so thankful that I am not someone who uses my energy for bitching and complaining at my SO. One of the first things he said to me today was "Thank you for being so understanding, Baby. I love you and I wish I was with you." If I hadn't remained quiet, if I had inundated him with suspicion and questions, I would never have heard those special words :') The point to my story is this: If he doesnt call or text give him 24 hours and then ASK if he is ok. If he doesn't respond to you and there is nothing wrong, then be worried about something more serious. Rely on your intuition. If the calming voice in your heart tells you that you know who he is and what he is about, then wait. If the same voice tells you that you have no idea what he is about or who he is, then ask yourself what you are doing with him to begin with. You cannot make someone who you want them to be or make them communicate when you want them too. You can offer them a chance to be in your life but you cannot change for them or expect them to change for you. If they care for you enough they will find a way to meet you half way. If they do not, then you must open yourself up to the possibility that love does not always conquer all and that someone just perfect for YOU is out there just waiting to meet you :) Thank you for reading this...

The judge sat up high on his oak podium looking down at T on the plaintiff’s side and me on the defendant’s side. I was nervous, having never been party to a court proceeding before. I was trembling but I had my head up and looked the judge and deputies squarely in their eyes. I was afraid but I was not a bad mom and I knew I had a chance of keeping custody of my children.

Although I was not a “bad” mom, I was certainly a disturbed one. Two weeks before I had sat in my car, in the garage of my home and seriously considered ending my life. My three children ages 15, 13 and 10 were at home and in their rooms. I had become so tired of fighting the opinions and misconceptions of my brother, my ex and my in-laws. I was exhausted by visits from the police asking to look through my home for drugs and evidence that my children were being neglected. I was so very tired of fighting with my ex about the taxes and child support. Tired of his endless, provoking telephone calls that always sent me into a fit of rage which he promptly taped and used for evidence of my addiction and insanity. (He never told anyone that he was calling me and the things he would say about our children that sent me off the edge, no he only taped my tirade and left his out)

T had an open invite to my home with the friend or family member of his choice. I told him I would stand outside while he inspected my home. I felt he had a right to know his children were safe, but he never came. Instead, he used the police department and his badge to harass me and disrupt our lives. He interrogated our children on visitations until one of them reported locking himself in a vehicle for 2 hours to escape what his father and his father’s family was saying about me.

The lithium that was supposed to help me was ineffective because the harassment and stress continued incessantly. I would lash out at him for calling me a cunt and a fat whore but mostly for telling me that it was just fine for his girlfriend to hit or do anything else to our children. “She can do whatever she wants to my children, in my house whenever she wants and fuck you if you do not like it you bitch!” he told me that last time before he filed the restraining order. Yes, I lost it. I had told him that I would leave the state and where I go, the children go. He called me more vile names and hung up on me and yes, I lost it. I called him back and when he wouldn’t answer I told his machine that I wished he and his girlfriend were dead. Just another recording that he kept and never told the whole story about…

He never told anyone about calling me and insighting me to commit suicide. How he used a calm, steady and almost hypnotic voice to try to convince me to take my pills and quietly die. “I knowww you love the kids, Julie and because you do I think you know it would be best for them if you were gone. You love them enough not to want them to grow up with you being sick, I know you do. And it would be so easy, Julie. You just take all of your pills and lie down and go to sleep. They will miss you and hurt for a while, but I know you love them enough that you want them to not suffer from who you are. So just go ahead and do what you have to do and know that I will keep them safe…” I wonder now, who was more disturbed?

For months I had constantly told my daughter to tell him I was not home, I was sleeping or anywhere that he couldn’t reach me but he kept calling. His live-in girlfriend didn’t even know he called me so often. He told her he did not want to speak to me at all. He told our friends and family I was using, was an alcoholic (which most who know me would fall down laughing at the thought. You would have to see me with one beer to understand why, lol). He also told them I didn’t feed the kids and that the children had no clothes. He didn’t tell them that I had to go to child support and ask for a court order because the arrangement we set up was not working. He would get paid and still not deposit the money for three days and when he did he would take out money for “unpaid bills” from when we were together. On one occasion I asked him to please put the child support in the bank as soon as he got paid that week. I was low on food and needed to go grocery shopping as soon as I could. He waited 2 days to put it in my account but before he did he called the Pasco County Sheriff’s office and asked that they check on his children because I wasn’t feeding them!

The mind games were endless and I am not ashamed to admit I couldn’t do it anymore. That night in the car I had taken a glass of wine while sitting there listening to the radio. I never even drank it; I was crying and spilled it all over the center console. I called his best friend and asked him to please tell T to leave me alone. I would have called anyone who would have listened. I knew I was losing it. I just wanted him to back off, let me get better and let me be a mom.

 So there T sat like a slab of concrete, no expression on his face and avoiding looking at me as if to do so would turn him to the stone he already resembled. He wore a cobalt blue, long sleeve, button down shirt with black pants and a burgundy tie. I remember this in detail because it was the day my life was forever changed and the day that I began my high-speed decent into insanity.

I lost. I lost custody, I lost my reasons for living and I lost my mind. In the end the Judge admonished T for the tapes and would not listen to him. Hw was about to rule in my favor until a very angry T said that I had tried to commit suicide and had done so many times. I did not lie. I told the judge I was a cutter and had cut myself more than once before I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder and began treatment. The judge then erred on the side of caution as anyone would, and granted him custody. I didn’t know I could talk about what he had done, didn’t present the evidence in my hands that would have told the judge at least some of the crap T had put me through. I didn’t know how back then and I was depressed and alone. There is no free legal representation to the respondent to an injunction.

 I robotically drove home and slipped my clothes off. Naked, I walked into the large master shower and wordlessly sank to the floor. The water was hot but I didn’t feel it. I was vaguely aware that it was pouring over my face but then so were my tears. It was then, naked, wet and pitiful I began to scream. Deep guttural screams that came not from my gut, but from my very soul. The screaming wouldn’t stop. My voice became horse, my throat hurt and the water was ice cold and still the tears were raging down my cheeks in torrents and the screams were deafening in their shrill display of torment.

These children that he never wanted around unless his Deputy brothers were in the vicinity. These beautiful children who ran from his vehicle the moment they saw a glint of cranberry colored steel.  I spent their whole lives trying to protect them and love them. He spent their whole lives treating them as if they were things to take off of a shelf and play with and then cast aside when he was done.  My lives, my souls and the only light I could ever manage to live for were gone. I knew I would never get them back and I knew that he would do anything he had to in order to keep us apart…

Today I am healthy and I know that I needed help. I know that if I could have afforded a lawyer, I wouldn’t have lost. I would merely have gone to a hospital for evaluation to make sure I was competent to take care of my children. My family disagrees, but I was not well enough for primary custody back then. The tragedy is not that they had to go live with their father, the tragedy is that he refused to let me see them even under court order and he brainwashed my youngest son to believe that I was high, not ill. That it was my choice to be the way I was and that I am just a bad person. Parental alienation is the worst crime you can commit against a child that does not include physical violence. One day this boy will grow into a man and he will begin to ask questions. The truthful answers will make him angry and bitter because he will suddenly see the time he has been forced to miss with a mother that never stopped loving him or wanting him in her life. He will then understand that the step-mother he adores has lied to him all along only because she was jealous and resentful that his dad didn’t marry her in the first place.

The wonderful thing that came out of this was me. My spiral was fast and furious but it ended and my new life began. From jail to treatment to a brand new life of greatful wonder, I went. Thanks to T bringing it all to a head, I found myself, love myself and when my children do grow up I will be able to be there for them like never before. So cheers T! Thank you for the opportunity to save my life by suggesting I end it! J

I think we can all agree that perfection can be seen in the tiny little hands of a newborn baby whom is sleeping peacefully in our arms. We inspect those little hands and kiss the tiny fingers and the intricate fingerprints visible even while the sweet child is only hours old. Its sheer flawlessness astounds us. There is no doubt that from the time we are born we seek perfection. Perfect behavior, perfect grades, perfect attendance and later, the perfect mate are part of what we may strive for in perfections pursuit. But the quest for perfection is long and disappointing, did you ever wonder why? Maybe the answer is that we are so busy trying to be the faultless vision that others will see and want that we forget that it is really all about ourselves and that elusive sense of our own unique individuality and whether or not it naturally synchronizes with our friends, our family members and with that “perfect mate” that may not so perfect at all.

For many years I wondered why life had to be so difficult. Brought up in a family with a severely alcoholic father, abandoned b y both parents at different times and always the “throw away.” I never made the right decisions; they were based on an emotional void. I was destined to battle bipolar disorder and addiction, enter into an abusive relationship and subsequently spend 18 years of my life in a loveless and cold environment filled with despair, guilt and excuses of my own making. All I ever wanted was that perfect love in my life. I needed to feel excepted and cared for. To my way of thinking I could only find perfection by hiding the “real” Julie and being what I perceived that others wanted. I tried to tone down my natural urge to stay young by asking questions and experiencing life. I only used my goofy sense of humor with my children. The sparkle of mischief that was part of my soul was forced from my eye and my natural loud sense of joyfulness was quashed. I did this not because anyone forced me to do so but because I did not see that the only people worthy of being in my life are the people who not only accept me for who I am but who actually embrace who I am.

So in 2008 when I was arrested and my life seemed to give me an even stronger swirlee than usual, something amazing happened. I was sent to a place where it was made clear that from then on I had permission to be just Julie. It was required that I find the authentic person inside of me and findd a way to love her. I was introduced to the idea that maybe she wasn’t so bad and that if someone wanted to be in my life that they would have to love her as well. Here we go, I thought, doesn’t that sound like perfection (you know, the kind I was taught not to ever seek?)? I love me, they love me, nothing has to change and we all skip off into the rainbow filled sunset? Yeah, right….

But I knew that life hadn’t worked the way I myself had tried to live it. My best thinking had gotten me to 41 years old, addiction, mental illness, the absence of my children and hell, just really alone. So I let the sunshine inside of me sparkle through. I am someone I love, someone I am proud of. I am too boisterous at times but always I am real. I have a very sexual sense of humor and I am a big pain in the ass because I am who I am and people love me or they move on and that is okay with me. I will not live in mediocrity. I want to feel everything, do everything and I want to laugh my way through this life’s challenges. When I cry I want to remember that there was a time that despair was so deep that I couldn’t shed a single tear and I want to rejoice in the feel of those wet, salty drops of emotion coursing down my cheeks.

There is a perfect! It is a place where you are exactly the person that God (Or whomever you believe made it possible for you to be here) intended, you love yourself for it and you embrace the differences that make you, uniquely you. And the perfect mate? Your perfect mate is the person who will stand by you in life embracing everything that is you and loving all of your annoying, nasty, little idiosyncrasies as much as you love theirs. Perfection in a life partner comes from two people without any pretense standing naked in front of each other without deception or protection, both of them naturally drawn to one another without the need to change the other in any way, both of them ecstatically happy to simply “Be.”

This ideology could follow you in all areas of life. If you have to force it or change it, then maybe it shouldn’t exist in your life at all. After all, is it really perfection if you have had to form it into something you wanted and continually have to reshape it to fit your needs? Is it perfection if no matter how much of your soul you exchange, it still is never enough? Perfection is here but not necessarily in the way you had sought after, maybe it’s a bit easier than that….

So much has happened since my last post that it almost seems as if I am a completely new person again. I was able to see my sons once in April. They seem happy and well adjusted. I have decided to let sleeping dogs lie and wait quietly for more contact with them. It has been a long time and they do not know me anymore.They are uncomfortable around me and in the prensence of his father, My youngest son Nickolas is reluctant to spend any time with me at all. I need to go on with my life. The mistakes of the past (my own and T's) have done their damage and the thing to do now is to make the best of the lessons that were offered and to learn as much as possible so as not to repeat the same mistakes. In the mean time I have continued with college and tried to give back as much as I cazn to those who have helped me in whatever capacity I can. I have met the most wonderful man in the world and as we speak I am in the sleeper cab of his Semi waiting to see the world that I hid from for so very long. I will be going all over the USA with him because I want to see this country through his eyes and because he wants to show it to me. He is the light in contrast to me ex's darkness and where there is sunshine one can see his face. He continues my education by showing me the beauty that can live inside of a mortal man and by teaching me that compassion and understanding is not alien to the male species, just to certain members of it. He knows the whole story of my life and loves me despite and because of it. I am 43 years old and I have found what I have only dreamed existed. Even if it doesn't last, I have gotten to know a man that gives when he could surely take and who judges not when judegment would be easy. Someone said that life is what happens when you are making plans... Kenny is proof of many things, but especially that....

The screaming went on and on and wouldn’t stop. Its shrill tone cut through my psychosis. With steel fingernails, it grabbed hold of the portion of my brain that feels pain most acutely and pulled until I thought my head would explode. “Why won’t that b!@#h shut the f@ck up?” I asked myself. I realized at some point that the “dumb b!@#h” was me and yet the screaming continued. I couldn’t stop, my mouth wouldn’t take direction. It was beyond my control. There was a voice and I looked up to trail its creator with my useless unseeing eyes. I tried to move my hand to wipe the drool I felt on my lips but discovered very quickly I was somehow tethered to the bed. The disembodied voice was saying I was being charged with at least three felonies. I’m thinking, what is a felony and if I didn’t buy one how could I be charged? Oh, and by the way, why can’t I see anything and why is my wrist attached to this bed I seem to be lying in? I don’t remember what I actually said verbally. The words were lost in the vortex of psychosis as I drifted into unconsciousness…blissful, comforting unconsciousness. .

I haven’t seen my sons in two years. It started out as a punishment for taking T to court for some solid visitation. It continued through my arrest and subsequent treatment and it stays horribly constant as T never answers my request to see our sons. My daughter was a victim of my collapse. She and I have made our peace and with her forgiveness I have found the strength to love and forgive myself. My addiction and craziness was on the outside and on paper for all to see. T’s remains hidden and lurking in the darkness of his mind. His physical, mental and spiritual pain is lying in wait until it is time to take another hostage. I had the audacity to escape and he punishes me by withholding our sons. It’s as if I chose to be ill and addicted. There is no understanding of the times I looked for help, the times I grasped for any hand that was offered. I reached out for doctors that didn’t have the knowledge to diagnose me properly. The medications made me more anxious, depressed and, at times psychotic. T thought I had control or could take control. I didn’t, I couldn’t and with his constant physical and verbal violence over a period of so many years, even free I was unable to cope. They say that people that are crazy do not know. I believe that mental illnesses are much crueler than that. In my case it was as if I was lucid dreaming. I knew I wasn’t right, but was powerless to wake up. I don’t really think T realizes what he is doing to our sons. Putting them on the phone to express what he himself cannot. To hear a thirteen year old boy state, “I don’t think you need to be giving my father attitude” is not good for a child that only wants to love both of his parents. I hurt for our son, but I hurt much worse for T because he truly does not know what he is doing to the boys. He only knows a world of control regardless of the cost. I wish I could go back in time and change T’s young life. His background in a world of chaos and alcoholism has made him something that God never intended. He cannot take responsibility for the things he did to me and our daughter because he can’t think of it or refuses to believe it was wrong. His only hold on his own sanity is his control of every situation at any time. T has a wonderful wife, children that adore him and an ex-wife that has finally dealt with her issues and become whole enough to let go of the evilness of the past but he still seems to want to dwell in the dark and remain afraid and paranoid. I have chosen a life of enlightenment, love and making amends. It’s a shame that there has to be more struggle but I have learned that giving up is not an option and I have the support now that makes me feel like the sun is shining and everything is possible, I want to share that with my children someday soon.

I am feeling blessed today, let me tell you why.......

I wanted this blog to be honest and sincere. I want anyone who comes to my site or dials my extention to know something about me if they have an interest. First here's an update on the children:

My daughter is now 19 and lives with her boyfriend. I see her often and God has granted me a very close relationship with her. My ex-husband began allowing me weekly phone calls with my sons 2 months ago. We are working on slowly reaquainting ourselves with each other. My ex and I have both made changes and we are working on a plan for my sons and I to see each other very soon. My ex is remarried to a woman my sons adore. She has 3 children of her own and they recently welcomed  baby girl Merissa  into the world. I here she is a cutie.

As for me:

I was away from Keen for over a year. I went away to recieve treatment for a co-occurring disorder. I have Bipolar Disorder and I am a recovering prescription drug addict. My anniversery is December 15th and I will be 2, yay!!! I am in my sophmore year in college studying  to become a Paralegal. I am the happiest I have ever been in my life and God blesses me with more every day.

I am currently writing a book which I have entitled "Suicidal Notes from an Insane Drug Addict" I want to chronicle the circumstances leading up to and surrounding my downword spiral. I think people might like to know my side of the story. Sometimes it helps to know that what comes down can certainly rise again. For all of you that call for help, I want you to know that I am not just a psychic. I do not stand outside on a pedestal and try to fix you. I have plenty of life experience. I have been in a 16 year abusive relationship, have abused prescription drugs, been kept from my children by an ex with a badge and a God complex,  have been arrested for assault, sent to treatment, and any number of horrible things have happened.

BUT

 I also accepted help, got clean and mentally healthy, have reconnected with my children, i am halfway through school, I have a wonderfully happy life and I now volunteer to help others. What a rush!

If any of you need help or resources please ask. If I do not have them I will do my best to find them for you. If you are interested in more info about me, addiction or mental illness, please email. I have educated myself extensibly about all three :) Hope to talk to you soon!      The Phoenix

 

 

                          

John and Nick playing in the pool a few weeks ago. The "buddy" routine is just a front for a deeper "sibling rivalry" Why is it that siblings can pick on each other, but there is hell to pay if anyone else picks on them?.....LOL

                          

Ashton and her friend Andrew at our house on our last visitation. She looks a little pink and is trying to imitate the girl to the left of the picture....LOL. But seriously, doesn't she look happy to be home?

                         

                  Yes, John IS as laid back as he looks!

                         

Ashton at the babysitters house (the one assigned to watch me..lol) Trying to be cool.

Each child in this world has something special which only they possess, in the way that they possess it. I have been fortunate enough to realize that there is no one day, exactly the same as another. When you get a chance, even a split second, look into the eyes of someone you love and truly connect with them. Take the opportunity to REALLY see them. Take in every detail, every expression, every eye movement. Save it somewhere inside of you and take it out and look at it often. Sometimes it alone answers that burning question; why?

So, I finally got to see my children today. I had to spend the day being "supervised" by my ex's Grandmother but I got to spend 8 wonderful hours with them. I didn't even get in the house when my daughter came running out and through her arms around me. She nearly squeezed me to death and I loved every minute of it. Troy's grandmother greeted me with a smile and she said, Hi honey! I don't know if it is a game to get information and see what I'm really like now, or if she is sincere. I know that I have been lied to and lied about so often, that my once trusting spirit can trust no one anymore.

So after that we went outside and waited until we could go into the pool. My son Nick sat on my lap and sang the song he always sings to me. " I love you, I love you, I lovey dovey wovey" He looked bigger and he seemed happy. He told me he passed the state tests and the 3rd grade. I gave him his own cell phone to call me whenever he wants.

My son JKohn asked if he could come home now and I wanted to cry. John has down syndrome and I didn't think he quite understood the situation. I was wrong and by the end of the day he was very sad because he wanted to go with me.

The rest of the day went smoothly. We swam and horsed around and I was told I was loved a lot. I needed that. I can't wait to take that piece of crap back to court and get my babies back. He hasn't looked me in the eye since the day he left, that says a lot.

       I have recently re-read a little book called "How to be HAPPY dammit" by Karen Salmansohn. It is a very easy read. It can be read in roughly 2 hours. It is well worth the $14.95 you will pay for it and will give you a laugh. The first page reads; "You think about 60,000 thoughts a day. It is up to you to make sure you don't use 59,999 of them with negative cynical thinking"

       Now there are some of us (including myself) that can use this info. It is very hard to live in this world, be embroiled in problems and hardships and not think negatively. When we are breaking up, divorcing, lost a loved one, lost a job or are just plain tired, we slip into negative thinking. By doing so we sabatage the power of spirit to help us.

 

       Read the book, I recomend it highly and laughter IS the best medicine!

This is my wonderful son Nick. He likes skateboards and bikes. He likes to play war and build his own "guns" LOL. Nick is loving and kind and always asks if he can help. Nick likes to play practical jokes, such as pretending there is a spider on the wall. He draws me pictures and writes I love you on every single one. This pic was taken at his dads last month. Please picture him as I know him, with a beautiful smile on his face. 

This is my gorgeous daughter, Ashton. In this picture she looks scary She tries to be tough, but she has a very beautiful heart and soul. This pic does not do her justice. She is 5'5" tall, has electrifying blue eyes, skin to die for and the bone structure that a Queen would be jealouse of. This little 105 lb girl has saved my life in many ways and on more than one occasion. She is the most intelligent, strong and vibrant female that I know. When I hear Garth brooks song, "Every woman" I think of her. Ashton is also psychic. For example, one christmas she picked up every box under the tree and told me what was inside of it. She sees people that have passed and knows the outcome of most situations. She is SCARY psychic...lol. later when she sends me a better pic and a pic of my other son John, I will update.

 

These are two of the three children I am fighting for. They sneak phone calls when they can and my daughter sends me pics from her cell phone. I am blessed to have them all and I hope I am even more blessed to bring them home, where they want to be and where they belong.