Partner

Partner

This morning has gone incredibly well. I am maintaining a stress free attitude as I am in my safe haven. I got up first this morning taking my shower in peace. I was able to thoroughly enjoy my shower because unlike my home there was no ” mom ,mom ,mom ,mom  !!” , at the door to disturb. My first steps from there were back to bed and to the laptop. I have so much work to do on my blog of course. Advertisers to list, post to write, blogs to read, promoting that is calling my name. I’d say I worked on it for a solid hour before the in and out of the wifi at his country home gave me more grief than I was willing to endure. I from there got myself dressed. Blogging in the nude is all the new rave you see. To the kitchen clothed I go. I cook a feast for breakfast. I enjoy cooking in the kitchen with the birds. I think me waking them on Saturday mornings and cooking while chatting away with them and papa still in bed is a good bonding experience for us. So I cook a meal and Marc wakes to startle me. He came up behind me while I was string eggs and checking a notification to the blog that had popped up on my phone. I was in my zone and clearly not paying attention to his presence. My mistake because this isn’t the first time the little shit has made me jump from my skin while cooking his breakfast. I almost peed myself I was so startled. I had done dishes while cooking and had them on a towel drying. He after showering us all with attention. Myself, the birds and the kids that were home. Marc went right to putting the dishes away. I have pretty much been the sole dishwasher since our relationship begun. I don’t mind much though I rather enjoy taking care of him. I have not however ever put them away. Before I ever even think to he has already done it for me. After we eat he spends some time with the kids allowing me again some free time to pay attention to this blog. It’s really far more time consuming then you can imagine. He returns to the bedroom while I am in midst of promotion to give me some much needed attention. I thrive from that stuff. That genuine adoration he has for me. I don’t ever have to beg for it. Never have to give something to get that in return. There is no little voice in the back of my head making me feel low for what I may end up doing in return for that positive attention. All I had ever known before him was such. So he showers me with everything I need. I listen attentive to his ravings of a plane. The most uncomfortable looking plane I had ever seen in fact. The plane had metal seats. Well I shouldn’t even say seats as it was just the one metal seat. Nothing he was able to enjoy or share with me so I had to really force the interest. It was more for aerial tricks and such not romantic sunsets flights. Off track again. After all my needs are meet from him he hops up and says I am taking the boy out to play with cars. I can see it in his face that he is excited to spend time with my son. It’s the greatest gift anyone can give me. To light a fire in my son with his love and attention as he does. I know part of him taking him outside is to aide in minimizing my distractions so that I can get some blog work done. Marc is a partner…. It’s not like any other relationship I have ever been in. It’s completely overwhelming at times because I don’t really know how to let him be an aide in my distress. He loves my kids from within it’s nothing to do with winning me as he already knows he did that long before ever meeting them. We are partners and match each other in everything perfectly. Yesterday he sat me down with a talk of how I was only seeing the negative in everything. How could I be anything but stressed and defeated if that was all I was thinking of. Not to mention the sleep deprivation I experienced this week. He is outside with Malachi now who has already ran in beaming of fishing poles and fishing trips. Every man who has ever played house with him has made promises of those trips. I use to cringe when Malachi came home speaking of plans of them because I knew it was only to be a let down I would need to help him recover from. I don’t fear that now. With Marc I am able to let myself get excited for my son. I can rejoice in his excitement and not fill with worry. This man is my families blessing and he has absolutely no clue of his infectious love. 20180512_110416.jpg Blue and Gold Macaw Coloring Book

The Flashback Memory ( Train)

Today as we were driving down the the beach to gaze at the water we noticed that there was a train slowly passing through. The speed in itself instantly took me back in time.  I am 13 years old. Living in Bridgman Michigan right next to the Cook Nuclear plant. I hated everything about my home. I was just moved from where I wanted to be and it never settled well. I had next to no relationship with my mother. She was clearly the enemy in my mind. I had one friend that I was very close too! She was having her own struggles at home as well. Both thought that we ourselves could do far better without their help. We decided one night that we would run away. We started at my house. We packed my things just one small bag is all I took. I left a note saying that I was going to go stay at her house. We walked to her house from mine. Her house was in town more and it was a two story house unlike my one story. Her room was in the second story we planned our escape and the life we would make for ourselves that night smoking a joint out her second story window. Her mom was drunk that night and her dad asleep. It was easy to sneak a $20 bill out of her dad’s wallet and just stroll out the front door. We left a note there as well saying we were at my house. Speaking nothing that we were running away. We decided that the way not to be caught was to walk the railroad tracks. We had literally no destination in place at all. Walking seemed endless. Suddenly we heard the whistling and howling of a train. In my mind it sounded just feet behind me and I thought it was fast moving freight train. None of which was true of course. We began screaming yelling and running. What the hell else is there to do when there is a TRAIN chasing you! On each side of the tracks was a very steep. The sides were large chunky rocks and at the bottom of the steep rock sides were trees and woods. It was pitch black and I am not sure how we even seen to get out of the way at all. In my sprint to escape that train that was really inching towards me rather than barrelling I fell crashing knees first into the unforgiving rocks. I rolled all the way into the trees below tearing my jeans from the anklet straight to the crotch. I cried I laughed and then I watched the train creep by. It was slow enough we could have easily jumped on it but we didn’t. I remember stopping at the roller rink and using the pay phone next door to find out where our ultimate destination would be. Watervliet was the spot. We eventually made it there our 20 dollars running out by day two. We slept on benches and in parks. We barely ate anything. Days and days passed just kinda lingering in town. Our parents at some point realizing we weren’t at the other’s homes. They called the cops. I remember thinking that no one was looking for us. It was quite some time before the police stop us. We lie about our names at first just to be caught in the lie and taken to the station. My first ever ride in a cop car in fact. The tears flowed as I thought life on park benches was far better then what I had came from. I begged the officer to put me in jail incarcerate me was my plea. It went unheard though as the only thing the officer did was return me to my mother. I didn’t’ even want to face her. My friend and I went through more then I could ever blog while we were on the run. At 13 I had this harsh reality of the world. I am glad my kids have no experience of this at all.

Why I no longer pick up the paint brush that brought me so much comfort.

Why I no longer pick up the paint brush that brought me so much comfort.

I was living in my Grandma Dee’s home. Pregnant with my first child, already thrown out of the father of my child’s home, and a teenager. My Grandmother had just remarried. She was living in a huge home in Three Oaks. Her and her husband opened their doors for me and I had a large room and a decent life. I rarely left my room outside of the daily trips to the post office to buy stamps and mail letters to my son’s father. I wrote him constantly during that pregnancy. I stayed in my room. I didn’t eat as I was sick the entire time. I drank milk by the gallons but I bought my own as I had food stamps and wic way back then. I coped with my life with painting those days. I had mass amounts of paints I would even volunteer at the thrift store up town for credits there for painting and crafting supplies. It was just my passion. No one in my life wanted me to keep my baby. I mean NO ONE.  Abortion, adoption, whatever the opinion was it was absolutely not me parenting. I was on my own. I was fine with that though I had made my peace with it. I was in every parenting class known to man earning points and things I needed for my baby. Allen had it all!!!! So there is no way I had ever even considered another option for him. One day I came home to my grandma in my room. I hadn’t been gone long just walked to the post office a few blocks up and back. When I got to the top of the stairs I could see her in my trash can. She was fumbling with the garbage from my painting mess and I wasn’t sure why. Entering the room startled her and she was irate in an instant. She was screaming ” I caught you!”. I honestly had not a clue what the hell she was talking about.” I knew you didn’t want him. You aborted that baby. Right here in my house.” Her screams were ludicrous to me. Has she been drinking? My grandma didn’t drink but I truly just had no idea what on earth was going on in the moment. Before I knew it she had slapped me and I pushed her back she tumbled and we both ended up on the ground. Me with her clear hand print on my face. She then called 911! “My granddaughter has given herself an abortion with a coat hanger. I stopped her and she pushed me down. ” Oh my God at this point i realize she is bat shit and I should go. I get to the front door and the officer is already there. Her hand print still very clear across my face. She flies down the stairs to give her story first. I sit myself down on the porch trying to not stress through my high risk pregnancy.  I had been on bed rest the entire time. I couldn’t eat much and lived off milk and carnation breakfast drinks. The officer came to me next. He was holding the hanger. It was evidence. I was baffled. I had to go to the hospital and prove my story. I could have pressed charges as grandma admitted being angry at my actions and hitting me. I at the hospital was told the stress made it time to induce and was set to deliver the very baby I was said to have aborted the very next day. I moved back home to never have a relationship with my grandma again. I have seen her a few times but never had a bond at all since. I do my best to avoid her. I can’t move on from it no matter how hard I try. The hanger was simply covered in the red paint I had used it to stir and unclog one of my paints. The exam in my head created an issue that lead to my preterm delivery being needed. My son being vacuumed for 36 mins.  I threw all my paint supplies away that day and never touched a paint brush again. 

Dinner at the Mark

Dinner at the Mark

So I didn’t tell dinner from my side and my actions just as I seen my kids doing. Truthfully my side should be told as well. See when we sat down I already was full of worry. I kinda always am with food. The menus before me seem overwhelming. I am starved staring at the choices. I probably haven’t taken a days worth of calories all week long. I am beyond starved  as half those calories I vomit back up. Even when I tell people I am doing okay holding it down I am not!!!! So in my mind I am playing okay what do I want that I’ll be okay possibly puking in 5 mins. I am searching for the bathroom doors and wondering how many people maybe inside it if I have to go hug the porcelain God. I also have to worry about the daughter who is struggling with the font and reading the words on the menu and feeling overwhelmed and a son that is trying to experience all he can from his meal. I grabbed his leg before deciding I was going to get my favorite exactly how I enjoyed eating it. I order my nachos with nothing but meat and cheese. So when you order mexican and you leave out all of the rabbit food let me just tell you how skimpy the portion then becomes.  So I add extra of both meat and cheese. I swallow hard looking back at Marc. He smiles the reassurance I need but he has no idea he is even giving. Again he is perfect so most of the amazing things he does require no effort at all. His smile always warms me from the inside. Soon I see people walk in that I know… Memories that aren’t to fond. Ones I still want to share with him though. I know he hates negative stuff and maybe I shouldn’t always share them when they come up like that but he held me and let me cuddle him to pieces after and you know once he told me that the people I knew went to the back room I never thought about it again throughout dinner. I had gotten out he parts I needed to say and he had given me the comfort and listening ear I needed and then we just moved on.  I seen them again when going to the rest room but felt nothing as I had when they walked in. It was just another person in the restaurant was all.  Food arrived and I want to hoover it. My doctor apt was the afternoon before going to dinner and this is something I had just been told not to do. My tummy would need time eat very slowly. So I am eat time telling myself chew slowly as I eat. Still very focused on getting it in my belly! I eat about half my small portion. Not very small though if you ask me. Then I start to feel very full and cramping begins. My guilt is already setting in. My meal was expensive how can I not finish it.  I had FORCED HIM to PAY EXTRA for my extra meat and cheese and now I was leaving some of that on the plate. I surely hadn’t forced him at all but in my head that is exactly what I am thinking. The waitress comes to take everyone’s plate. I make sure I am still picking from mine when she does so she makes no attempt to take it. I simply can’t leave not finishing this plate. Now she brings the check. Oh no I have to see what it’s charged him for this. I have to resist grabbing the check as I know he feels better paying for dinner. It gives him pride in himself and I don’t want to take that from him. ( we’ve had these talks many times about dinner is his job to buy for.) So I wait for him to grab it and flip it and get out his card. He has established now that he is paying. Okay, it’s safe to slide it to me and look at it. One dollar and seventy five cents extra is what the fee was. Back to picking the toppings from the chips now. Gorging myself and starting to really cramp. I wonder had I stopped when I knew I should if I could have prevented getting sick. I picked and picked until he said he was ready and rescued me from my plate, from my own head. I got up and knew I was going to get sick. I have practiced how to get sick as quietly as I can now. If I said nothing no one would know. No one did. I rinse my mouth in the sink a million times because now my purse contents are missing and I am not protected with the mouth wash it would normally carry. My battle armor is gone. 🙁 I come out to find he waited for me before going into restroom his self so I would not think he had gone to the car. The sweetest gesture of course made my head worry. He had been waiting do you think he knew I was getting sick? Did I take so long it’s noticeable? He wraps his arm around me kissing my forehead and we leave the building. The food was delicious he was not worried about my dollar seventy five one bit and he later raved of the time he had with us. I wish I could worry just a bit less. HE loves me. I wonder if I will spend my life reminding myself of that or if one day I will let all of these foolish worries go. All the pain from that past one day might just stop crashing through. Before writing this blog I created it in my head while shedding the tears it deserved and coloring my pain away. I often play a blog post in my head before typing but I never reread them I type freely. This is the page I am working on. In the coloring book that was here waiting for me when I arrived home for the weekend.

Being His

Being His

Yesterday Marc took me and two of the kids out for dinner. He takes us out pretty much every weekend at least once typically far more. Malachi seems to pretty much always choose being with us no matter what other offer is on the table. I noticed a few weeks ago each time we go out to eat he chooses something he has not ever eaten and it’s usually on the expensive side. The first time we went out Marc told him he could choose as he wanted. There were not any restrictions. I am positive that he has ever felt that was the case before dinner with Marc. Dinner was always on a budget and even if it wasn’t it was just known to us we weren’t worth those expensive meals. The man in my life has ALWAYS controlled the finances ( dispute it being my area of expertise) even if I was the bread winner. It was the man who got the expensive meal and we did our best to stay as low as possible. Most occasions the kids and I got water while the man choose as he pleased. We were not the priority. It’s not that Marc’s financial status is greater as you would think. If there was a budget for the meal with Marc we wouldn’t know as it is him who would adjust his meal to a lower price to compensate. We aren’t beneath him as we have spent our lives feeling before. There isn’t a pack of cigarettes or a bottle that will come before us being spoiled. When we got home from dinner laying on his chest I had tears flowing down my face trying to explain to him what he does for us. I swear he is the very best thing for my health and stability. I think he got a bit of what I was trying to say but he doesn’t grasp how much we appreciate his love. I’d give my last breath to him without hesitation. I have found it a bit difficult because feeling this happy and loved shows me so much of what I was lacking. My entire life no one could give me this. I just never ever could feel loved. It was a lonely pathetic existence. I was always trying to change, trying not to say no, trying to be what and where they wanted so someone would pretend to love me. Marc never even had to say the words. I felt his love far before he said them. I trusted in it before he asked me to. I feel it in my soul. Not all of the kids feel it that deeply. Some are still worried he will walk away. That negative actions will send him running like the rest. I know Jade feels unworthy of it. I know she needs his love as badly as I do. I can’t wait till the day I can see he has melted all that for her. I know he will as I know he truly loves us all. He loves my crazy even. I have had hard time thinking my emotional wreck self is lovable. You know the one where in your head you know you look like a lunatic from the outside but 7 kids, no sleep, 3 baby daddies, and life that shit just made you unable to calm down and be a rational human being in anyway.  He loves that me! I can see him as nothing less then completely perfect. He has woke up and now I can’t seem to find a thing important enough to write with cuddles so openly available. If I lay down he will pat his chest like Tarzan for me to take my place on it. I get so excited to be his Jane. 🙂

Loved me through the worst

Loved me through the worst

I really had no idea how broken I was until he loved me. A lifetime of pain made me a shell of who I am suppose to be. I had told a horrendous lie that I thought was simply the only choice on the table. I held that lie with my life. I let it control my life. I allowed my kids dad to black mail me over this lie. The power I gave that lie and the person holding it was consuming. I left the man who loved me in attempt to hide my lie. I felt at a fork where I was choosing my love, or my kids. That left me with no choice at all because what mother could choose anything over her offspring. In a panic I found myself complying to all the rules and ultimatums as I always have. I was instantly miserable and depressed. A black cloud surrounded me within mins. 5 hours of complete agony. Five hours snout down my face crying gasping for my breath. I was clearly in a panic attack. I wouldn’t even open the door my love could not even look me in the eyes. He couldn’t look at me and fix things because I wouldn’t allow him. I told him nothing of the lie or the black mail. I just cried uncontrollably. He got down on the floor. Under the door he grabbed my hand. My heart sank my tears poured how badly I wanted to be on his chest. How could I choose him over my kids? Hours later I unlocked the door. I poured out my heart and pleaded for his love. It never faulted. It mattered none of why I left him with a letter. He never cared about any of the events just how he could help me fix them. He simply wanted to protect me. He didn’t have any anger. I couldn’t even fathom how he could be there. How he  could love me after me leaving in that way. I tried to plan and execute us keeping the secret under wraps until we had what we needed for our dreams. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t let another man speak so ill of the one I loved. I couldn’t let another man touch me. I couldn’t pretend. I blew it all and the flood gates opened. The lie poured out and damage was monumental. My heart wrenched for my son. I wanted badly to scream from the rooftops why my choice was the only one I had. I was willing to give up the only man I had ever loved to protect the lie. Protect my child. I failed. It is all out. I may never see him. I may never get forgiveness. My heart shattered but there is no more anyone can do. It’s all over now. My penance paid. The statue of limitations is over I had kept the lie long enough. The damage is still far to great for me to see the light yet. I do know he will love me through it. I know I won’t be alone. My pain won’t be by burden to myself. He will be there and he will get me through it. I haven’t ever had so much faith in anything as I do in his love. I know we will find a way to make things right again together 🙂

The venom and lies he still spews.

The venom and lies he still spews.

There are places I am restricted from going over the lies he tells. My ex husband is angry very angry. He has been paying the minimum required support for a very long time. In fact he took me to court to have it lowered with a doctor’s note saying he could do minimal hours and work. At the time having claims that he was going to get disability and was unable to work and support his kids for medical reasons.  His base support the amount that came to the kids being set at 88$ for 4 minor children. I left that be even after and I mean just a few weeks after Keith started a union overtime often job. No biggie really as the kids aren’t going without at the time. Recently Keith and his wife moved to my town. I myself encouraged it. I was sick and I mean very sick I was desperate for help with the teens him and I shared and welcomed it. I used my truck and I helped his wife move things from her storage to their new house. I loaned cigarette and gas money when they first moved in. Not a substantial amount or anything just 7-`10 bucks here and there. I provided rides where needed I just tried to be supportive and helpful. His wife called his paycheck card in mine and the kids presence pretty regularly to the point where I knew what he was making. The kids and I had several conversations about how much money that was to have so little and to never do anything for them. When the kids bdays rolled around and they got nothing but fake broken promises. While he wife bragged of the purchases for her and her kids it became clear of their intentions. Occasionally if Keith was asked directly on payday before the money was cleared out and depending how and for what was asked he may help. He put $50 on the $380 class ring Allen got. I still never filed to raise anything. It seemed that the battle for asking for more support even if it were the right thing would be more than I was willing to take on. Then things got progressively worse. As he would buy from fundraisers and never give the money. He would put bday money in their hands then pull it back to say he had to hold it and spend it on another child and flaunt that. It was a very sad situation. The battle in my head to raise support was always there. In my state it’s done by a formula if the amount he was paying was the amount he was able to afford then it would be left. I asked Keith for help many times that summer. It was my sickest moments. I truly needed the help. That summer my girls rape by the brother living in Keith’s home came to light. That summer I stood and watched in fear as Keith dragged Malachi from the home. In a vicious fight between the two. A screaming match between a father and son like I had never seen in my life. I watched Keith foolishly spend money that I knew my children could clearly benefit from. Our eldest son getting into a college program was a milestone. I was desperate to get him his license, a car , and a cell phone. Keith promised him a phone, his truck, and to pay half the license cost with me. Sadly for my son that was all lies. I begged for the 50$ money order for the drivers ed for a long time. Allen given many excuses for the phone and why he didn’t have one. Meantime the son who had raped our daughters got a cell phone. I thought maybe for Keith that taking care of the kids he seen daily and were in his house seemed priority, I am sure he held his own anger to the lack of bond he had with his first born. I have truly and honestly tried to foster that. Allen is 16 now his opinion of his father is formed only Keith can change that. Keith made plans to take Allen shopping for shoes. I thought that was the coolest plan yet… that was over a year and a half ago Allen is still waiting.  Sometimes Keith can appear and be the dad they love. He doesn’t even have to put in much effort honestly they simple want his time. Sometimes it’s like he comes around to hurt them like he is hurting from them. I wish he’d leave the wife and other kids and home and just pick up the four and soak up the time before it’s not there to soak up. Allen will turn 18 in no time and he will break that tie completely as I have my father. I went to court after the incident with the shoes and the money order for drivers ed. I had no idea how high the support would increase. Over 109% increase. Now he is slandering me as a gold digger all over town. How I take all the money he needs to survive. I want so badly to say are you kidding !!!??? Do you remember when I left you your wife your kids and your 9 dogs into my home!!!!!!! DO YOU!!!??? Do you remember the groceries I brought to your shawnee trailer, your hills haven trailer!!!! I bought you clothes,blankets, coffee, cigs. I raise your CHILDREN!!!!!~! I just don’t get it. Like how can you be so dishonest do you really think that I take child support to hurt you!?! It’s not about you it’s not about me. It’s about the kids deserving to be supported. They deserve to have the same financial obligations by us both. I have not once not been there for something him and his family needed. When they themselves were on hard times and they had to complete a program for michigan works to get state aide it was me that took their kids for that entire week. Both kids. One that was not even keith’s and one that was from and affair in our marriage. I took their kids to church, to easter egg hunts, their first time feeding the ducks was with me, first time trick or treating was with me! I took your kids to water parks I included your kids in my family and in return your slandering my name. It’s like a slap to the face that I expected and still forgot to duck. I was unwelcome somewhere last week because I am a gold digging evil baby mama…… hmmm I just can’t see it in the dark he sees. I wish I could say that if he called I’d hang up, not help, tell him where to shove it…. but truthfully nothing would change for me. I will be supportive I will buy groceries if that means his kids see him or the coffee he needs to deal with them. The cigs he needs to chain smoke to entertain them. Ill do whatever because it’s what is best for my kids. My heart still hurts at how he sees this and me. It hurts that people who have never meet me are now passing such ill judgement upon me. I wonder if the money was worth the insults. I wonder if the money even has a thing to do with it or if they would still be there just the same.

The Daycare Provider

The Daycare Provider

I am 18 years old. I am a mother of 2 at the time with my third to be on the way. I have completed my high school education and I am feeling trapped by my abusive husband, my children, my life. I decided that I could go to college for free. I could easily get state aide to provide payment for the daycare and I could get a grant for college. I could do something with my life! What a plan. I worked diligently to put it in action. Let me tell you what understand dhs and the requirements to get into college, daycare paid, books bought, and I had no license at the time. So getting my license was a large task to complete as well to make this happen for me. I had my heart set I was so excited. I pulled off dot after dot on my to do list. I found what seemed like the perfect daycare. The home in a rich sub division. The nanny a young married woman with impeccable cleaning skills. She was licensed and made nutritious meals. I took so much pride in the achievements even though it went unnoticed to everyone else. I remember talking of buying the books to my grandma. I had put up a ad at the local grocery store to babysit and I had babysit with taking my kids to earn the cash for my school books. Well grams thought I was ridiculous. I’d never finish I was wasting my children’s money. As that is who it rightfully should be used for not books. So I didn’t share much of anything about the journey at Lmc that year. I thought the daycare provider was my friend. I think I have pretty much always had a need for that ” friend “. My husband had told me to invite her out one night. We went to karaoke at the sliver beach bar. I knew by the third drink his red headed ass drank I would not enjoy the night. I had no idea how much it would destroy me from the inside. They drank and I mean they drank heavily. I stayed sober of course I was pregnant. My pregnancies we always awful. I was very ill and I had preterm babies. I wasn’t able to have sex. My husband didn’t think waiting was in his duties. He took the daycare provider home that night. He took her to my bed. He repeatedly called me to the room when his drunken state left him unable to stay hard for her. Making me help erect his cock. I’d race from the room and retreat to the kitchen the furthest room from them hoping I could drawn out what they were doing from my mind. He’d call me in again her this time wanting me in there. 🙁 I cried and I cried. I slammed the fridge in anger once after leaving the room and Keith ran out and grabbed my throat looking deep in my eyes and telling me not to do that again. I slept that night in my children’s bedroom floor under the crib. I sobbed and I sobbed. I never could feel good about being naked after. Not until I meet Marc. I couldn’t have confidence to be nude. The Daycare provider’s name was Megan. She and Keith would begin to see each other regularly. Even though she was married herself. She became pregnant in fact. Keith claims the child to be his although Michigan law made him her husband’s. In anger I tried to tell her husband. Keith eventually left me taking every possession I owned. The two of them making me into the monster who was crazy. I was biter and vindictive they would say. I think it changed friendship for me. I can’t trust. I can’t be open. She flaunted that she was better at everything a better wife took better care of the kids. She was his age she had the education and the time as a mom I hadn’t gotten yet. She stole it all from me for awhile. Later dropping it all like a bad habit. I am sure that was about the time she realized what that life she stole entailed.  I desperately wanted to ask her if it was worth it? If her son now is a constant reminder to the person she was to me and her own husband. The man that she had promised to love? I heard she later divorced, remarried, and moved away. I felt relieved knowing we wouldn’t bump into each other at some grocery store. Keith has showed the pictures of his son to myself and the kids. Bragging still of the time he had with her. They’re face book friendship and so fourth. It makes me sick to my stomach. It hurts that one day just as he and his mom did for his grandma and her children. My kids will search for the answers and siblings that they don’t know about and will hear of all these horrid tales. Of the children carelessly created and how they have no relationship or knowledge because their father never could figure out how to be a father. My heart breaks that my pain could be their’s one day.

The Link Crisis Center

At 14 years old I was residing with my mother and stepfather. My mom finally had the tools she needed to be the parent she had always wanted to be. She was no longer alone. She no longer feared evictions and we stopped moving and planted roots. The problem being I already felt abandoned and the only people I had developed relationships with they were taking me away from. The phone bills I created were massive. I wanted so badly to go back to the life we had left. I resented my little brother as he seemed to have so much more love than I was able to gain. He was never in the trouble that I was in. He didn’t have to act out for time or attention. The begun to lock the phone away from me. Meaning now I had no one. I couldn’t hold a conversation with my mother that didn’t spin into a angry dispute. I couldn’t forgive what I was holding inside. I made calls myself to child protective services, the link crisis center and anyone who would listen and help me escape. I believe even the cops came when I checked myself into the crisis center. I can’t remember the finer details anymore. I remember being asked over and over are you sure this is what you want? You want to check yourself in? You don’t want to be home with your family? I was certain any life outside those four walls were better than in them. So off I went to St joe where the building was. Inside there were many other teenagers scattered about. None of them had sent themselves to the hell I had though. I wanted to stay on the bed I had been assigned but that wasn’t allowed. The room’s had 8-10 bunks in them and there was a community room with a pool table and some games and television. They held group therapies and cps came to speak to me. To be honest it really wasn’t to bad until it was time to eat. I just couldn’t bring myself to put a single bite in my mouth. It was a HUGE deal for them me not eating. They were ready to diagnose me with a eating disorder by day two. Thinking I was on some sort of strike. It was really nothing of the sort. I simply had food issues. Not weight issues not body image issues. It was the food itself the problem. It was how I was in control and at that age the only thing in my power to control. I became extremely picky I had issues with textures and food touching. The issues were very deep rooted. They begun making me sit at the same table I had fought to get away from. It opened floodgates of memories. I just couldn’t understand why everyone wanted me to sit at a table for my entire life. Why must they waste my time? It was my choice to eat I couldn’t understand why everyone felt the need to force it. Soon everything was dictated by the food issues. My restrictions racked up because if I couldn’t follow the rules on food then I couldn’t do anything but be made to stare at the food. I ran here for help and now I wanted nothing more then to run again. I can’t even remember now how long I was there. I can’t remember how I left or where I went from there. I can’t remember the people I meet I can remember the kitchen and dining area like the back of my hand. I can remember every single meal I was made to sit and stare at. I can remember the times they lifted the food to my mouth for me to clamp it shut and have no part in it. As a child how did no one reach out. How was I the one punished for not eating? The food issues have spilled into my adult life. Looking at a menu is overwhelming. I love to cook but hate to try what I cook. I sometimes gag while chewing thinking of someone winning by me swallowing it. Like I have given up the only control I ever had. Oh how silly this must sound. I am so damaged.

Bathroom Penetrations (ADULT ONLY POST!) Must be 18 to read :)

Bathroom Penetrations (ADULT ONLY POST!) Must be 18 to read :)

I slept in just a bit this morning normally waking around 7 today it was nearly 830 before I rolled out of the bed. I did my normal shower and blogging in bed. Letting the rest of the house sleep. This morning was my first morning to wake the birds on my own. I had planned in out so that I could make breakfast while the house was asleep. I woke the birds filled their food dishes. I made breakfast delivering it to him in bed. He seemed tickled and devoured his plate. We had the kids this weekend. That meant the need to be more creative and quiet. After finishing breakfast we got back into bed and cuddled. I drifted asleep waking up on his chest with those delightful princess kisses he showers my forehead in oh so often. I had gone to bed horny the night before. Passing out before he got out of the shower and missing my opportunity. The bedroom door was open. I begun to run my hands all over his body. In no time at all his member was standing at attention for me. I slowly and teasingly untied his pajama pant bottoms. Giving my hand the room it needs to get inside and touch him. I love light touches spinning my finger around the sensitivity ring on the head of his firm cock. Grasping at his balls and back to caresses that rock hard cock. He plays with my breast for a few moments kissing at my neck before jumping up from the bed. “where are you going?” I gasp. He grabs the lube from the head rest of our bed and heads for the bathroom. Holding open the door for me. As soon as he grabs the lube I know his intentions and happily prance behind him. Dropping my pants as soon as I enter the bathroom. The lights are all on he had turned up the tv and turned on the bathroom fan. He anticipated that even with my best efforts I may still need background noise to drown out the panting and moaning. I bend over the sink wearing just a skimpy tank top that doesn’t leave much for the imagination. He come up behind me and I hear him pop the top of that lube bottle. A tingle sensation takes over my cunt as soon as I hear it. He covers the head of his cock with the cold lubricant. He pulls me close to him hands firmly gripping at my hips. Running the cold wet head of his cock up and down my slat letting out his own giggle at my response before plunging into me. The first plunge sends me elbow deep into the sink. He gains speed and I never can seem to look up to the mirror to watch him. I cum quickly letting him know when I do. Oh my god does it just feel so incredible. My legs closed between his and in perfect rhythm till he explodes and fills me to the brim. After he gives me a few more thrust I wonder if he will go again as he sometimes does. He finally eases out and goes to the back of the toilet to the wet wipes. He hands me two and him two and we clean up ourselves. A quick peck and back to the cuddling. In bed I find my place back to his chest. We spend some time chatting and enjoying each others company before he finds himself right back to playing with my breast. I tell him he had better not tease me. He playfully tells me it’s my fault with the tank I am still in he can’t help himself. I grab the blanket and pull it over us. He starts making his already firm cock jump pressed against my leg it grabs my attention with a quickness. I press myself closer to him me on my back him on his side facing me. My left leg entwined with him and my right bent at the knee. Hiding what I was doing making a tent of the blanket. Even though we were alone in the room we were not alone in the house. Under the tent I had created I let my right hand wonder into my own pants. My left hand gripping at his cock. His hands grasping at my breast and tweaking at my nipples. I turned my head toward him playing more rapidly with my clit. He begun to kiss at my forehead. I was panting grinding my pussy into my hand. Holding onto his cock while I masterbated to orgasm for him to watch. He would peak under the blanket making me play faster. As I finished he kissed me again. “Did you just cum he murmured?” mmmmm hmmm My response got an immediate reaction. He leaped up from that bed and snatched the lube “come on let’s take care of this” Back in the bathroom I did just as I had before dropping my pants before him this time I pressed my bare ass into him when I bent forward. He grabbed it and gave it a bit of a squeeze. This time when I bent forward I put my legs much further back. Leaning at the edge of the sink. He lubed his head sliding about missing the hole a bit before entering me again. I could tell my muscles were tight after my fresh orgasm I had given myself. Within ten thrust I had cum for him. Making sure to tell him he had brought me to climax. I enjoy telling him I feel it relieves pressure for him as he always wishes to please me above himself. This time he told me as he was about to cum to. When he did I forced open my eyes and squeezed my vaginal walls around his member as tightly as I could. Watching in the mirror as he made that wrinkling nose face I just adore. It felt like a bursted hydrant inside me. My sex life is so delightful.