Sunday, March 18, 2012
Sunday, February 26, 2012
Don't Be Surprised When Someone Throws You A Piece of Cheese.....
So, last week, my ex when into a "Christian-Living" Program. Which is a christian homeless shelter that is supposed to show you how to live a productive, christian life. I'm all for someone trying to help themselves, But you can't use it as an escape.
He called me the morning he was going to the program. He started out by telling me that in the last few weeks, he has probably spent $500 on crack. I knew he was partying again. You cant spend 14 years with someone and not know when their going off the deep end. He told me the night before, a local crack dealing kept calling him. He said he started by giving him some free rock, Then he would call him daily to see if he needed any. Well. that's a crack dealers job. They call them pushers for a reason. So this kid has been calling him and stopping over because he knows he'll be a good client.
Now my ex is broke and pissed off that this dealer keeps calling (especially since he would love to buy some). So the the night before he's going into the program, he calls the police department and tells them this crack dealer wont leave him alone.. The cops set up a sting operation that night. They give my ex some marked $20s and they have 4 officers staked out in the motel. One officer is in his room. They give him $200 to make a buy. Dealer comes by and gives him the rock and my ex goes back to his room and gives the rock to the undercover. They pull the dealer over a few blocks from the buy. They find a couple hundred and 5-6 bags of rock in his pockets. He is arrested right on the spot.
My ex (feeling like he's just helped mankind) decides to smoke a little weed and pack for the program. about an hour later, banging at his door. Its the cops and they are screaming at him because they didn't find the marked money on the dealer. They begin accusing my ex of ripping them off. They tear apart his room looking for the money. Flipping mattresses, taking everything out of his dresser, just ransacking the hotel room. They don't find the money. So now, they're really pissed and tell him they are going to arrest him.
they take him down to the station. They do the good cop/ bad cop thing. He's in the interrogation room for almost 2 hours. Suddenly a cop comes in and tells him that he's free to go. My ex asks them if they found the marked money. Cops say yes, they found all the marked money. Apparently, the dealer had crotched the marked money. I'm sure he thought something might be up. When an addict goes from buying $40 bags to $200 bags, bells will go off. Im always amazed at the size of my ex's balls. He was on a very high horse when he was telling me this Insanely Stupid Story. As always, rationalizing his behavior. He was trying to help them and he cant believe he was treated that way. He was just helping his fellow man.
Here's Whats Wrong With This:
The dealer wouldn't be coming around if he wasn't buying CRACK. THEN he tries to justify being a Rat. Yes, Crack dealers deserve what they get, But to do it because you obviously can't control your own impulses, isn't Nobel. He kept tell me, This doesn't make me a rat, because this guy kept bothering me. I refuse to agree with cracked logic. This dealer is going to know who set him up and this guy isn't going to forget that face that did it. Most of these small time dealers are backed by a big time gang. So what is he thinking? In a few weeks or months, he's going to be out of this program. He's going to be back out into the general area that this occurred and if this dealer sees him strolling down the street, things wont go well for him.
You are not doing the world a favor when your a big part of the problem. A hooker would be out of business if there were no Johns and it's the same for the crack dealers. You can't create a problem for yourself and expect the police or anyone else for that matter, to clean it up for you. My ex was bringing a crack dealer around descent people every time he bought crack. That is what pissed me off worse than him smoking the crack (when I was married to him). He was bringing these scum bags around where my children slept and played. I don't know who is worse.
He just kept saying, but this doesn't make me a rat, right?
If you have to ask, you already know the answer.
BTW, Make sure to pair that cheese with a nice wine!
He called me the morning he was going to the program. He started out by telling me that in the last few weeks, he has probably spent $500 on crack. I knew he was partying again. You cant spend 14 years with someone and not know when their going off the deep end. He told me the night before, a local crack dealing kept calling him. He said he started by giving him some free rock, Then he would call him daily to see if he needed any. Well. that's a crack dealers job. They call them pushers for a reason. So this kid has been calling him and stopping over because he knows he'll be a good client.
Now my ex is broke and pissed off that this dealer keeps calling (especially since he would love to buy some). So the the night before he's going into the program, he calls the police department and tells them this crack dealer wont leave him alone.. The cops set up a sting operation that night. They give my ex some marked $20s and they have 4 officers staked out in the motel. One officer is in his room. They give him $200 to make a buy. Dealer comes by and gives him the rock and my ex goes back to his room and gives the rock to the undercover. They pull the dealer over a few blocks from the buy. They find a couple hundred and 5-6 bags of rock in his pockets. He is arrested right on the spot.
My ex (feeling like he's just helped mankind) decides to smoke a little weed and pack for the program. about an hour later, banging at his door. Its the cops and they are screaming at him because they didn't find the marked money on the dealer. They begin accusing my ex of ripping them off. They tear apart his room looking for the money. Flipping mattresses, taking everything out of his dresser, just ransacking the hotel room. They don't find the money. So now, they're really pissed and tell him they are going to arrest him.
they take him down to the station. They do the good cop/ bad cop thing. He's in the interrogation room for almost 2 hours. Suddenly a cop comes in and tells him that he's free to go. My ex asks them if they found the marked money. Cops say yes, they found all the marked money. Apparently, the dealer had crotched the marked money. I'm sure he thought something might be up. When an addict goes from buying $40 bags to $200 bags, bells will go off. Im always amazed at the size of my ex's balls. He was on a very high horse when he was telling me this Insanely Stupid Story. As always, rationalizing his behavior. He was trying to help them and he cant believe he was treated that way. He was just helping his fellow man.
Here's Whats Wrong With This:
The dealer wouldn't be coming around if he wasn't buying CRACK. THEN he tries to justify being a Rat. Yes, Crack dealers deserve what they get, But to do it because you obviously can't control your own impulses, isn't Nobel. He kept tell me, This doesn't make me a rat, because this guy kept bothering me. I refuse to agree with cracked logic. This dealer is going to know who set him up and this guy isn't going to forget that face that did it. Most of these small time dealers are backed by a big time gang. So what is he thinking? In a few weeks or months, he's going to be out of this program. He's going to be back out into the general area that this occurred and if this dealer sees him strolling down the street, things wont go well for him.
You are not doing the world a favor when your a big part of the problem. A hooker would be out of business if there were no Johns and it's the same for the crack dealers. You can't create a problem for yourself and expect the police or anyone else for that matter, to clean it up for you. My ex was bringing a crack dealer around descent people every time he bought crack. That is what pissed me off worse than him smoking the crack (when I was married to him). He was bringing these scum bags around where my children slept and played. I don't know who is worse.
He just kept saying, but this doesn't make me a rat, right?
If you have to ask, you already know the answer.
BTW, Make sure to pair that cheese with a nice wine!
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
The Crack Head Lives To Smoke Another Day.......
Some days you just don't want to exist......
Today is one one those days. Although I didn't have a choice, since my bbgirl has Basketball practice and my son is going in early for math tutoring. My 38th birthday is looming over my head and I'm not feelin it. My back is constantly killing me. The surgery Just gave me different and more pain. My tax return is 1/2 of what I'd normally get because I can't work. I'm turning 38 and i feel 28. So, I just feel sucky today.
My ex husband went to my girls bball game last Thursday and the kids said he was sick. he was having trouble catching his breath and his back hurt, then he pucked. The kids can home concerned. My 1st thought was Blood Clots. Hes had them before. So, he called me the next day and I didn't answer. The message he left was breathy and he sounded like shit. So I finally called him back that nite. He said he thought he threw his back out and that's why he couldn't breathe. He said he was just going to take some zanax and sleep it off.
Now, I should have said "OK, talk to you later", I knew if he went to sleep, he'd probably never wake up. I wanted to say nothing. After all the BS he put me threw, I should just let him die. He's too stupid to see the signs of the blood clots, then he gets want he deserves. But that fucking conscience of mine wouldn't allow it.
I called him back Friday evening and I told him that he probable had blood clots. He got off the phone with me quickly and 4 hrs later, I got a text that he was in the hospital, had blood clots in his lungs and 2 in his leg.
Why couldn't I just keep my mouth shut. I don't own him that courtesy. I didn't know if i could live with myself. I'm a good person, he's not a good person. But who am I to play god. I still don't know if I did the right thing.
That's how life is. You make choices and hope they're the right ones because you have to live with those choices. I have made bad choices at times. Where are the angels that are supposed to be on my shoulder. WTF Are they sleeping, off on holiday. Did they ditch me??? Where are they when I need them.
So, The crack head lives to smoke another day. What he will do with it??? Who cares, but I can look in the mirror guilt free.
Today is one one those days. Although I didn't have a choice, since my bbgirl has Basketball practice and my son is going in early for math tutoring. My 38th birthday is looming over my head and I'm not feelin it. My back is constantly killing me. The surgery Just gave me different and more pain. My tax return is 1/2 of what I'd normally get because I can't work. I'm turning 38 and i feel 28. So, I just feel sucky today.
My ex husband went to my girls bball game last Thursday and the kids said he was sick. he was having trouble catching his breath and his back hurt, then he pucked. The kids can home concerned. My 1st thought was Blood Clots. Hes had them before. So, he called me the next day and I didn't answer. The message he left was breathy and he sounded like shit. So I finally called him back that nite. He said he thought he threw his back out and that's why he couldn't breathe. He said he was just going to take some zanax and sleep it off.
Now, I should have said "OK, talk to you later", I knew if he went to sleep, he'd probably never wake up. I wanted to say nothing. After all the BS he put me threw, I should just let him die. He's too stupid to see the signs of the blood clots, then he gets want he deserves. But that fucking conscience of mine wouldn't allow it.
I called him back Friday evening and I told him that he probable had blood clots. He got off the phone with me quickly and 4 hrs later, I got a text that he was in the hospital, had blood clots in his lungs and 2 in his leg.
Why couldn't I just keep my mouth shut. I don't own him that courtesy. I didn't know if i could live with myself. I'm a good person, he's not a good person. But who am I to play god. I still don't know if I did the right thing.
That's how life is. You make choices and hope they're the right ones because you have to live with those choices. I have made bad choices at times. Where are the angels that are supposed to be on my shoulder. WTF Are they sleeping, off on holiday. Did they ditch me??? Where are they when I need them.
So, The crack head lives to smoke another day. What he will do with it??? Who cares, but I can look in the mirror guilt free.
Thursday, January 19, 2012
Once in a while, I see shame in my mirror. Some mistakes just can't be changed
I am sitting here, reflecting on events in my life. Bad things happened to everyone, but it's the people who are in your life, that can make or break you during the most hellish times of your life . These are a few people who didn't break me. These people lifted me up when I couldn't stand anymore. I can't say I always treated them the way they deserved to be treated. I'm not perfect. I've made... more than a few mistakes in my life. I have to live with myself for the things that I've said and done or didn't do. I just want to acknowledge a few special people.
Anne - Without your support, I would have never left HIM. You made me feel beautiful and strong. You believed in me as a mother and a woman. When I was at your house, I felt normal. I envied the life you had built. You were my inspiration, my friend, my Reality check and my angel. I'm sorry for any pain I caused you, I know I caused many fights between you and your husband. I was F***ed up in the head at the time, but that's NO excuse Not a day goes by that I don't think about the friendship we had. From the bottom of my heart, I'm sorry. I just wanted to say: Thank you Anne. PS, Mom say Sammy the other day. He's sooo happy with his new life as a trucker. He makes a great co-pilot. He no longer pukes in the car. LOL He's an only child and spoiled the way he deserves to be
Mary - You were in the same situation as I was and you got out. You not only got out, but you thrived. You put a roof over my head and you took care of me in my time of need. After my hysterectomy, YOU were there for me. I was in pain, alone and scared and you came to my rescue.I know we don't talk anymore. It kills me to know I hurt you. If I could take the things I said and did back, I would....But I can't. There's no excuse for my actions. There's no one to blame but me. I love you and I'm sorry. I'm sorry I lost a true friend. I would give anything to have a coco-lacha with you again.
Gene - Words can't describe what a good friend you are. I'm thankful that you came to 3rd shift. I miss talking to you after work everyday. I miss cooking for you. You are like the brother I always wanted. Your intentions are always good. Its not often that you find someone with a heart as big as yours. You are always there when I need to vent or cry or laugh. I will always try to be there for you when you need me. Your a beautiful person and I love you with all my heart. You need to come out for the weekend....SOON
Frank - I love you and you know how I feel about you. Your my soul mate. But since you don't read my blog, I'm leaving it at that.
Mom - I can't even write about you today without crying because I miss you so much. You've never let me down...I know you can't say the same about me. I'm sorry I was occasionally rotten. I love you & my kids more than anything. I will have to devote an entire Blog-day to you. The best Mom ever!!!
Tyler Hey Hey - I love you. What would I ever do without my Gay???? You have impacted my life more than you know. I can't imagine my life without out you. Don't ever leave Me :)
Anne - Without your support, I would have never left HIM. You made me feel beautiful and strong. You believed in me as a mother and a woman. When I was at your house, I felt normal. I envied the life you had built. You were my inspiration, my friend, my Reality check and my angel. I'm sorry for any pain I caused you, I know I caused many fights between you and your husband. I was F***ed up in the head at the time, but that's NO excuse Not a day goes by that I don't think about the friendship we had. From the bottom of my heart, I'm sorry. I just wanted to say: Thank you Anne. PS, Mom say Sammy the other day. He's sooo happy with his new life as a trucker. He makes a great co-pilot. He no longer pukes in the car. LOL He's an only child and spoiled the way he deserves to be
Mary - You were in the same situation as I was and you got out. You not only got out, but you thrived. You put a roof over my head and you took care of me in my time of need. After my hysterectomy, YOU were there for me. I was in pain, alone and scared and you came to my rescue.I know we don't talk anymore. It kills me to know I hurt you. If I could take the things I said and did back, I would....But I can't. There's no excuse for my actions. There's no one to blame but me. I love you and I'm sorry. I'm sorry I lost a true friend. I would give anything to have a coco-lacha with you again.
Gene - Words can't describe what a good friend you are. I'm thankful that you came to 3rd shift. I miss talking to you after work everyday. I miss cooking for you. You are like the brother I always wanted. Your intentions are always good. Its not often that you find someone with a heart as big as yours. You are always there when I need to vent or cry or laugh. I will always try to be there for you when you need me. Your a beautiful person and I love you with all my heart. You need to come out for the weekend....SOON
Frank - I love you and you know how I feel about you. Your my soul mate. But since you don't read my blog, I'm leaving it at that.
Mom - I can't even write about you today without crying because I miss you so much. You've never let me down...I know you can't say the same about me. I'm sorry I was occasionally rotten. I love you & my kids more than anything. I will have to devote an entire Blog-day to you. The best Mom ever!!!
Tyler Hey Hey - I love you. What would I ever do without my Gay???? You have impacted my life more than you know. I can't imagine my life without out you. Don't ever leave Me :)
Monday, January 16, 2012
What do u need $40 for???
A crack head will come up with 1000's of reasons to get $40 for a crack rock. 1. I'm just going to play poker with the guys ( even though u know he has no friends).
2. I owe my ( Insert a relatives name here ).
3. Its a surprise, Honey.
4. I'm going to make you a gourmet dinner.
5. I need some cigarettes.
6. The neighbor needs to borrow it, his kid needs medicine.
7. I need to buy some weed so i WONT smoke crack.
8. I need some tools for work.
9. I owe my dealer and hes going to come here and kill me if I don't pay him.
10. I just want to have some money in my pocket, I'm sick of walking around broke!!!
Why are you smothering me!!!
Just be honest, I need the $40 because I want some crack. Without it, I can't stare out the window for 5 hours, like a freak, and look for DEA agents who are definitely watching me.
Crack is Whack
2. I owe my ( Insert a relatives name here ).
3. Its a surprise, Honey.
4. I'm going to make you a gourmet dinner.
5. I need some cigarettes.
6. The neighbor needs to borrow it, his kid needs medicine.
7. I need to buy some weed so i WONT smoke crack.
8. I need some tools for work.
9. I owe my dealer and hes going to come here and kill me if I don't pay him.
10. I just want to have some money in my pocket, I'm sick of walking around broke!!!
Why are you smothering me!!!
Just be honest, I need the $40 because I want some crack. Without it, I can't stare out the window for 5 hours, like a freak, and look for DEA agents who are definitely watching me.
Crack is Whack
Am I a .........Rock Band Disgrace??? You Bet Your Ass I Am
I try to embarrass or disgust my spawn on a daily basis.
My kids are mortified when I play rock band. They refuse to play with me. Granted, I have ZERO musical talent... but you don't need it to play rock band.
I was rockin out to American Pie with a friend and my son has his girlfriend over. He ended up leaving because it was soooo embarrassing. I thought it was pretty good (but what do I know, I married a crack head). I know I'm not a rock band goddess but he didn't have to leave, lol. If I knew that's all it took, I'd whip it out everytime they got on my nerves. I'm amazing.... if i only have to use the first 3 keys on the guitar. So, I embarrassed my kids! SO WHAT.
If I had a dollar every time they embarrassed me, I be watching a sunset in Jamaica right now, instead of writing this blog. I'm only carrying on the family tradition my parents subjected me to.
Although, my parents were way worse. I grew up with Hippie parents, so you never knew what you were going to walk into. I would come home from school and peek in the door to make sure my dad wasn't sitting in his underwear. Which is what he did only a daily basis. So my mother started keeping an afghan on the back of the couch (the blanket, not the dog, cause that would be creepy) . That way, he could throw it over his lap, just long enough for my friend and I to quickly go to my room. My kids have it easy compared to the embarrassment I endured.
Back to rock band. I don't want to play it, but i know all the songs. Its calls to me....it says Play Warrant, Play Jon Bon Jovi. Come on, how many of today's youths are going to know American Pie. I only have sooo much will power.
So, Kids.....Sucks to be you.
Momma wants to get her rock on......On Easy (cause I get 90% on easy and when I'm on medium, It looks like I'm was a having seizure) So, Bye Bye Miss American Pie, Drove my Chevy to the levy but the levy was dry.
Oh Yeah, I allowed them to place advertisements on my blog and what do you think I saw? A Rehab Ad. That's awesome, I love it. Very fitting :) Go Rehab, If you are smoking crack...Wait for the ad on the right side to say Rehab and CLICK IT.
My kids are mortified when I play rock band. They refuse to play with me. Granted, I have ZERO musical talent... but you don't need it to play rock band.
I was rockin out to American Pie with a friend and my son has his girlfriend over. He ended up leaving because it was soooo embarrassing. I thought it was pretty good (but what do I know, I married a crack head). I know I'm not a rock band goddess but he didn't have to leave, lol. If I knew that's all it took, I'd whip it out everytime they got on my nerves. I'm amazing.... if i only have to use the first 3 keys on the guitar. So, I embarrassed my kids! SO WHAT.
If I had a dollar every time they embarrassed me, I be watching a sunset in Jamaica right now, instead of writing this blog. I'm only carrying on the family tradition my parents subjected me to.
Although, my parents were way worse. I grew up with Hippie parents, so you never knew what you were going to walk into. I would come home from school and peek in the door to make sure my dad wasn't sitting in his underwear. Which is what he did only a daily basis. So my mother started keeping an afghan on the back of the couch (the blanket, not the dog, cause that would be creepy) . That way, he could throw it over his lap, just long enough for my friend and I to quickly go to my room. My kids have it easy compared to the embarrassment I endured.
Back to rock band. I don't want to play it, but i know all the songs. Its calls to me....it says Play Warrant, Play Jon Bon Jovi. Come on, how many of today's youths are going to know American Pie. I only have sooo much will power.
So, Kids.....Sucks to be you.
Momma wants to get her rock on......On Easy (cause I get 90% on easy and when I'm on medium, It looks like I'm was a having seizure) So, Bye Bye Miss American Pie, Drove my Chevy to the levy but the levy was dry.
Oh Yeah, I allowed them to place advertisements on my blog and what do you think I saw? A Rehab Ad. That's awesome, I love it. Very fitting :) Go Rehab, If you are smoking crack...Wait for the ad on the right side to say Rehab and CLICK IT.
Sunday, January 15, 2012
I Should Have a PHD in Public Relations
When your married to a crack head, you become the master of PR. I have made more excuses than Nixon. It becomes 2nd nature to lie for your husband. I am sure that most wives have to lie for their husbands once in a while, but lying for him became a part-time job.
I've lied to bosses, relatives, friends, best friend and mostly to myself. I would have to call into work for him almost on a weekly basis. Why? Because I needed the money to keep a roof over my babies heads.
You have to explain his erratic behavior, which is no easy task. I got so sick of living the lie. Always wishing that the lies I told to the outside world were true. I wished he was sick, or the car had broke down or (my favorite) the checks were the mail.
I had a permanent gag order placed on my real life. I wasn't lying for his benifit, I was lying to protect myself. To shield me from the embarrassment, the shame and the truth that I denied to myself. How can you tell your mom that your own husband pawned the kids PS2. How do you tell your boss that you can't make it to work because the crack head took your car and hasn't been seen in 36 hrs.
When he would disappear, I always secretly hoped that he was dead. It horrible - I know it is. I was ashamed to have those feelings, but it was a fantasy for me.
I would imagine the funeral, the burial and packing up his belongings. At that time, it was easier to hope for his death, than it was to get the balls to leave. Obviously, that's why i stayed so long. I knew my marriage was over before my daughter was even born.
My son was 3 months old and I was pregnant again. Not really by choice. When he came home drunk, the sex consisted of me crying and him telling me to shut up because I was ruining the mood. He used to tell me "what are you going to do, tell them that your husband is raping you". He said I was just being dramatic. I was, because it was dramatic for me.
When I found out that I was pregnant for the 2nd time, I had to call him at the bar & to ask him to come home so we could talk. He thought I was going to tell him I was cheating on him. lol.
I found out after I divorced him, that he was cheating on me with anybody who'd let him.. I never cheated, not on him, or anyone else. I don't believe in it. But on him, I should have cheated. I could have used someone to pull me out of his grip.
I had my kids and they were my ray of light. I was working full time, pregnant with a 3 month old. I'd get up in the morning, get my son ready for daycare, get myself ready. Then drive to daycare, drop off my baby and drive to work. I'd work 8-9 hrs a day as an Executive Assistant to the President of a wonderful company in Des Plaines. I'd leave work, pick up my boy and go home. Once home, I'd get dinner ready and clean-up the house, When HE got home from the bar, job or where ever he was, that's when the fun began. He would hound me for $40 or $60 bucks. After 3 hrs of him badgering me, I'd usually give in and give him the crack money. Just so he'd leave me alone.
When the kids got older, if I wouldn't give him crack money, he'd play the kids against me. He'd walk by me and under his breath, call me Lizard skin, whore, bitch, cunt, fat pig and anything else he could think of. I would finally snap and start screaming at him. Calmly, he'd look at my 3 & 4 year old babies and say to them, "why is mommy being mean, she is being crazy". My son would say, "mommy, be nice to daddy". The head games were unbearable.
I would apologise to the kids......and HIM, just to keep the peace. If I wasn't lying for him, I was doing Damage Control. That was almost worse than lying. Well, I guess it was just more lying, only face to face lying (which was sooo much worse). Why he started a fight at his family's Sunday dinner, Why he just disappeared from our child's birthday party, people wanted to know why and it had to be believable. I just wanted to say, well, he opened a birthday card for my kid, saw the $50, made a call to Pookie (his crack dealer) and he was gone. Gone to stare out a window for a couple hours.
I have had 14 years experience in Public Relations. I wish I could add it to my resume.
Job Title Crack Head Handler
Years at job 14
Were you fired? No, I quit :}
I've lied to bosses, relatives, friends, best friend and mostly to myself. I would have to call into work for him almost on a weekly basis. Why? Because I needed the money to keep a roof over my babies heads.
You have to explain his erratic behavior, which is no easy task. I got so sick of living the lie. Always wishing that the lies I told to the outside world were true. I wished he was sick, or the car had broke down or (my favorite) the checks were the mail.
I had a permanent gag order placed on my real life. I wasn't lying for his benifit, I was lying to protect myself. To shield me from the embarrassment, the shame and the truth that I denied to myself. How can you tell your mom that your own husband pawned the kids PS2. How do you tell your boss that you can't make it to work because the crack head took your car and hasn't been seen in 36 hrs.
When he would disappear, I always secretly hoped that he was dead. It horrible - I know it is. I was ashamed to have those feelings, but it was a fantasy for me.
I would imagine the funeral, the burial and packing up his belongings. At that time, it was easier to hope for his death, than it was to get the balls to leave. Obviously, that's why i stayed so long. I knew my marriage was over before my daughter was even born.
My son was 3 months old and I was pregnant again. Not really by choice. When he came home drunk, the sex consisted of me crying and him telling me to shut up because I was ruining the mood. He used to tell me "what are you going to do, tell them that your husband is raping you". He said I was just being dramatic. I was, because it was dramatic for me.
When I found out that I was pregnant for the 2nd time, I had to call him at the bar & to ask him to come home so we could talk. He thought I was going to tell him I was cheating on him. lol.
I found out after I divorced him, that he was cheating on me with anybody who'd let him.. I never cheated, not on him, or anyone else. I don't believe in it. But on him, I should have cheated. I could have used someone to pull me out of his grip.
I had my kids and they were my ray of light. I was working full time, pregnant with a 3 month old. I'd get up in the morning, get my son ready for daycare, get myself ready. Then drive to daycare, drop off my baby and drive to work. I'd work 8-9 hrs a day as an Executive Assistant to the President of a wonderful company in Des Plaines. I'd leave work, pick up my boy and go home. Once home, I'd get dinner ready and clean-up the house, When HE got home from the bar, job or where ever he was, that's when the fun began. He would hound me for $40 or $60 bucks. After 3 hrs of him badgering me, I'd usually give in and give him the crack money. Just so he'd leave me alone.
When the kids got older, if I wouldn't give him crack money, he'd play the kids against me. He'd walk by me and under his breath, call me Lizard skin, whore, bitch, cunt, fat pig and anything else he could think of. I would finally snap and start screaming at him. Calmly, he'd look at my 3 & 4 year old babies and say to them, "why is mommy being mean, she is being crazy". My son would say, "mommy, be nice to daddy". The head games were unbearable.
I would apologise to the kids......and HIM, just to keep the peace. If I wasn't lying for him, I was doing Damage Control. That was almost worse than lying. Well, I guess it was just more lying, only face to face lying (which was sooo much worse). Why he started a fight at his family's Sunday dinner, Why he just disappeared from our child's birthday party, people wanted to know why and it had to be believable. I just wanted to say, well, he opened a birthday card for my kid, saw the $50, made a call to Pookie (his crack dealer) and he was gone. Gone to stare out a window for a couple hours.
I have had 14 years experience in Public Relations. I wish I could add it to my resume.
Job Title Crack Head Handler
Years at job 14
Were you fired? No, I quit :}
Saturday, January 14, 2012
Marrying A Crackhead (This is not recommended)
I was with HIM for 14 years, 12 of those were hard time. We were married in 1994 and divorced in 2006 on my birthday. I should have seen the writing on the wall when i got his ghetto-ass proposal.
He'd been up all night doing blow. When i woke up, he had made me breakfast in bed. It consisted of freezer-burned waffles and juice. While i was chocking down my breakfast, he asked me to marry him. He said that his grandpa was upset we were living in sin. OMG, if his grandpa only knew the pool of sin his grandson was swimming in on a daily basis. No ring, just 2 freezer-burnt waffles. We had been living together for a few years and I didn't have any other options. I thought if we got married, things would get better. Boy, was I wrong.
Looking back, I feel so stupid. All I wanted out of life was to be a mother. That was my only true goal at that time. I was living with him, not happily, but I was convinced I could change him.
We were married on the same day as his parents, and his grandparents, February 4th. We were married by the same pastor, at the same church. The highlight of my wedding (after i took a handful of Valium, which gave me the balls to say my vows) was our friends that attended, the prime rib and my cake with the fountain in the middle. The cake was amazing. the marriage was not.
Within months of our marriage, He graduated from powdered cocaine to rock cocaine. There was no ceremony, no diploma from Crack University. But he definitively was in love with the rock. I was being cheated on with a glass dick full of chore-boy and crack. Its hard to compete with that.
He began eating away at my self esteem. I have suffered from a skin disorder, psoriasis, since I was 15. Stress makes it worse. He said I looked had lizard skin and I was disgusting. He constantly told me that no other man would even want to touch me. I felt so ugly. In the 14 years we were together, i never felt good about myself.
Plus I was always trying to hide the fact that my husband was smoking crack on a regular basis (2-3 times a week). I sent him to a rehab (several times). I had a pretty good job and very good insurance. After 28 days of peace (for me), his sobriety would last 3 months and then he started smoking pot, moved to drinking and finally got back on his crack horse. Unfortunately, he didn't ride off into the sunset.
I was exhausted and I couldn't tell my mom how bad it was getting. We had no couple friends. I had friends, but I had to hide the fact that he was on crack. I'm not a drinker and I've NEVER even tried crack ( he wouldn't have share with me anyway, lol). I knew our relationship needed at least one functional person in it.
I was still trying to get pregnant. I know, i know. I know whats going through your head, what you are thinking, dumb bitch, but I thought if he was a father, he'd be motivated to clean his act up. Plus, I needed a child. I didn't feel whole as a person and i just wanted to be a mother so bad.
I found out on Valentine's day, 1998, that I was pregnant. I was so happy and came home to tell him, only to find him smoking crack. When he smokes crack, he stares out the window for hours, stopping only long enough to put the glass dick in his mouth.
FUNNIEST CRACK MOMENT.
He had been smoking crack for hours in the bathroom. I would just pretend it wasn't happening. That was my coping skill (denial). I would immerse myself into crafts or making jewelery. It was about 4 hrs into his crack marathon when I heard him choking and screaming. I ran into the bathroom and he had his mouth open, pointing to the back of his throat. He had taken a hit from the crack pipe and the Chore-boy that he puts into the pipe to prevent the crack from melting to quick, had been sucked though the pipe and was sizzling on his tonsils. It had melted to the back of his throat. I told him we needed to go to the ER. While pulling the car up I had busted out into laughter. Talk about "Just Deserts". By the time we got to the ER, he had swallowed the chore-boy. The ER doc examined him and asked what had happened. He told him that he had put a cigarette in his mouth THE WRONG WAY and swallowed the cherry. The doc looked at him like "you're so full of shit". The doc never came back into the room. He sent the nurse in, who gave him a small amount of pain pills and throat spray and sent him home.
Even now, when I'm scrubbing a pan with chore-boy, I can't help but giggle.
He'd been up all night doing blow. When i woke up, he had made me breakfast in bed. It consisted of freezer-burned waffles and juice. While i was chocking down my breakfast, he asked me to marry him. He said that his grandpa was upset we were living in sin. OMG, if his grandpa only knew the pool of sin his grandson was swimming in on a daily basis. No ring, just 2 freezer-burnt waffles. We had been living together for a few years and I didn't have any other options. I thought if we got married, things would get better. Boy, was I wrong.
Looking back, I feel so stupid. All I wanted out of life was to be a mother. That was my only true goal at that time. I was living with him, not happily, but I was convinced I could change him.
We were married on the same day as his parents, and his grandparents, February 4th. We were married by the same pastor, at the same church. The highlight of my wedding (after i took a handful of Valium, which gave me the balls to say my vows) was our friends that attended, the prime rib and my cake with the fountain in the middle. The cake was amazing. the marriage was not.
Within months of our marriage, He graduated from powdered cocaine to rock cocaine. There was no ceremony, no diploma from Crack University. But he definitively was in love with the rock. I was being cheated on with a glass dick full of chore-boy and crack. Its hard to compete with that.
He began eating away at my self esteem. I have suffered from a skin disorder, psoriasis, since I was 15. Stress makes it worse. He said I looked had lizard skin and I was disgusting. He constantly told me that no other man would even want to touch me. I felt so ugly. In the 14 years we were together, i never felt good about myself.
Plus I was always trying to hide the fact that my husband was smoking crack on a regular basis (2-3 times a week). I sent him to a rehab (several times). I had a pretty good job and very good insurance. After 28 days of peace (for me), his sobriety would last 3 months and then he started smoking pot, moved to drinking and finally got back on his crack horse. Unfortunately, he didn't ride off into the sunset.
I was exhausted and I couldn't tell my mom how bad it was getting. We had no couple friends. I had friends, but I had to hide the fact that he was on crack. I'm not a drinker and I've NEVER even tried crack ( he wouldn't have share with me anyway, lol). I knew our relationship needed at least one functional person in it.
I was still trying to get pregnant. I know, i know. I know whats going through your head, what you are thinking, dumb bitch, but I thought if he was a father, he'd be motivated to clean his act up. Plus, I needed a child. I didn't feel whole as a person and i just wanted to be a mother so bad.
I found out on Valentine's day, 1998, that I was pregnant. I was so happy and came home to tell him, only to find him smoking crack. When he smokes crack, he stares out the window for hours, stopping only long enough to put the glass dick in his mouth.
FUNNIEST CRACK MOMENT.
He had been smoking crack for hours in the bathroom. I would just pretend it wasn't happening. That was my coping skill (denial). I would immerse myself into crafts or making jewelery. It was about 4 hrs into his crack marathon when I heard him choking and screaming. I ran into the bathroom and he had his mouth open, pointing to the back of his throat. He had taken a hit from the crack pipe and the Chore-boy that he puts into the pipe to prevent the crack from melting to quick, had been sucked though the pipe and was sizzling on his tonsils. It had melted to the back of his throat. I told him we needed to go to the ER. While pulling the car up I had busted out into laughter. Talk about "Just Deserts". By the time we got to the ER, he had swallowed the chore-boy. The ER doc examined him and asked what had happened. He told him that he had put a cigarette in his mouth THE WRONG WAY and swallowed the cherry. The doc looked at him like "you're so full of shit". The doc never came back into the room. He sent the nurse in, who gave him a small amount of pain pills and throat spray and sent him home.
Even now, when I'm scrubbing a pan with chore-boy, I can't help but giggle.
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