Another day, another dollar fight.

I say we need to talk more.
He says I don't try.
I say we need more moments alone.
He says it's gotta be on my time.

I say we need to make love more often.
He says I push him away.
I say we need to be there for each other.
He says he is here every day.


Maybe it is the financial stress. Maybe it is more. Who knows. He claims it is all me. I claim it is all him. We are always in this vicious cycle it seems. Months where we are just so happy and in love. Months where we aren't even sure we want to fight for this anymore. I am sick of the bottom of this cycle. I want to be back at the top again. Just a couple weeks ago, things were grand. Though I had not been giving even 2% into our marriage, and he had been giving it 110%. He had been doing so much to help me be comfortable. Letting me sleep, taking care of the kids, taking over all the household responsibilities. He was doing it all, as I was barely leaving my bedroom for more than an hour.

Maybe I was taking advantage of him. I probably was. I have always been a selfish person who prefers everything to be about me. At least that's who he tells me I am.

He had said I am also retarded, stupid, idiotic. All words that make me completely shut down and run away. All words I had been called through out my entire childhood. He then tells me he only says it out of frustration. He 'really' thinks I am smart, intelligent, wise. All things my parents used to say after I would cry about them putting me down. I feel like a little kid again.

Then he said the worst thing anyone can ever say to a mom.
He actually said I don't love my kids. According to him, I can care less about them. About him. About myself.

Maybe this is my own fault for being so negative towards him lately. Maybe this is my fault for pushing his buttons instead of being grateful for all he was doing to help me.
Maybe, maybe, maybe what-fucking-ever.

I don't deserve to be told this shit. Just like he doesn't deserve me being ungrateful, selfish, unloving.


We are both in the wrong here. Yet I am the one left begging for forgiveness. Begging him to talk to me. Begging him to get over whatever. Begging him to put back on his ring, after he threw it at me. Begging him to stay awake. And now.. begging him to join me in bed.

5 of the last 8 days have consisted of fighting. I have a feeling this time the cycle is on slow motion and this will be drawn out....

Desperately seeking help and guidance

I thought these feelings were behind me. I thought I had everything under control. Not anymore.
The suicidal thoughts are back with a vengeance. The depression and psychotic breaks are tearing me to shreds. I need a helping hand. A miracle worker. Help.

At this exact moment I am struggling, with every part of my being, not to slam my face into the drywall. Struggling to stay away from the pills bottles and knives. Struggling to stay calm. I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, if it weren't for this life inside of me at this moment, I would be back where I was a year ago, trying to end my life.

I sit here typing this as it is my only way to get these ramped thoughts out of my mind. Tears streaming down my face, fingers barely able to find the right keys as my hands shake so tremendously.

The only person I am willing to call and speak to about these thoughts will admit me immediately. I cannot, though I desperately need to, go back into the nut house. I have to work. I have to make it to my appointments. My children need me here, home. Yet, I need me sane.

Doctors, medication, and counseling cannot help me right now. Only the state of Connecticut can, yet they won't, not until things get worse. I cannot, as a mother, as a human being, let things get worse.

I learned today, after doing some math and speaking to a few social workers, there is no way I can come up with my rent this month. My utilities are officially way past due. I should shut off my internet, cable, and phone; but am petrified of what I would do without any connection to the outside world. I have no idea where my children and I will be going in a few weeks. I cannot even throw my son a 4th birthday party, as I don't even know where I will be living. I had one thing I have been looking forward to, which will only cost $25 tops, and I cannot go. I can't even afford clothing that fits me. If it weren't for the baby shower my wonderful aunt is throwing for me and a few dear friends, my soon to be daughter would have nothing.

No one knows this but I am seriously considering putting her up for adoption. It breaks my heart to even type this as I cannot even say it out loud. I have wanted a daughter so desperately for years. Yet, right now, how dare I even contemplate bringing another child into my life? How dare I bring her into my household when I can't even support myself or my two boys. There are millions upon millions of women out there so desperate to have a child of their own. Those women would give everything to make sure she was well taken care of. I can't even take care of her when she is in the most protected place she will ever be in.

I never saw myself here..I swear a few years ago, I would have never seen myself as a heroin addict, manic depressive bi-polar psycho, who believes her children are truly better off without her. Yes. I do believe they are better off with out me. At least they wouldn't be looking at living in a damn shelter in a few weeks. Or sharing a couch and floor with each other and their parents in the middle of drive-by central. At least then, if I weren't here, the state would help my boys.

Yes. That is where we will be in a few weeks. Either in my in-laws living room, living in the middle of the ghetto, where the house next door gets shot at on a weekly basis. Or.. In a fucking homeless shelter. And, not until we are homeless for 60 damn days will the lovely, children 1st state of Connecticut, lend a helping hand.

Fuck. I have always fended for myself. Never needed to live off the damn state. Yes. I got married young. Yes, I was a teen mother. But damn it. My children, almost all three, in fact all 5 of my damn pregnancies have been fathered by the same man. Damn it. I moved out at 16, always been able to pay my own damn way. Even when the damn times got tough, my husband and I have gotten through it.

Then I lost my mind. Then everything went down hill. Starting with the depression and suicide attempt, continuing with the heroin, followed by us losing everything. Then things started looking up. For a whole couple months. Now... Back to falling down this damn hole into the pit of darkness, where everyone is just standing at the top laughing at us struggling to hold on.

I am sick on holding on. I am sick of fighting so hard to provide for my children. I just want what any caring mother wants.

To provide for my children.

I just want some help finding a place and paying to get out foot in the damn door. And a damn job for my husband. Yep. Fourteen months laid off now. Unemployment should have run out weeks ago, yet, some how he is still collecting. Some people would love to make what he makes a week in unemployment at a real job. But when your rent is more than most mortgages in the area.. it just does not cut it.



I knew if I began to type I would calm down. At least for now the tears and shaking have stopped. Now to prevent these suicidal thoughts from returning I must continue to fight and search for help. I know it has to be out there. I know this damn state cannot really expect someone who is actually not milking the system to go into a shelter with a preschooler, toddler, and soon to be newborn. I know if I keep fighting, as much as I don't want to I will find what I need to take care of my boys.

Oil Spill? In my yard?

Apparently when a guy was looking at the house today, with great interest of renting it to me if he purchased it, went on the side of the house no one ever goes on, unless they are mowing the lawn, he saw something very interesting:



The real estate agent was telling me how people in this neighborhood used to keep the oil tanks under ground, they think that the one here burst.. It makes sense but I have no clue, and of course it is just a guess. It is very obviously oil, as you can smell it so clearly the minute you go ever there. I am shocked we never noticed it in the year we have been living here.. I have no clue what to do, it is great because it will probably keep people from buying the house.. But.. it will also probably keep this guy from buying it. And this guy gave me so much hope that we may have a chance to stay in this house. I do not want to move from here.. It is the perfect neighborhood to raise a family. Seeing as Fannie Mae is pretty much my "landlord" as the house is in foreclosure, I have no idea what I need to do to make sure the house is safe for myself and my family.

All I can picture now is the entire house blowing up.. :unsure:

Can't. Stay. Awake.

So yeah.. haven't blogged [or been online] in like.. um.. forever?

Pregnancy and methadone maintenance are really, really taking a toll on me. I need to lower my dose, but I have been advised not to while pregnant. I cannot take this fatigue much longer. I get up at 6:30 a.m. every morning to go off and get medicated. If Tom has side work I am "up" for the day, if not, I go back to bed until 11-12. If it is a day where he is working I put Collin down for a nap at 11 a.m. Let Thomas play some Wii or V-Smile or watch a movie, while I sleep. If it is a day Tom is home, Collin will not nap until 1:30-2:30, which is when I will go back to sleep until at least 4. If it is a work night I will not get to go to bed until 12-1 a.m. If it is not a work night, I head to bed right after Collin at 8:30, I will usually fall asleep before 10. But then, from 10 p.m. until I get up in the a.m. I am up at least every 2 hours to pee or reposition myself. >_<

Sounds like enough sleep right? It used to be. All I want to do is sleep. When I am not sleeping I am lounging on the couch falling asleep struggling to stay awake.

Anyone wanna be me for a while?

What's a mom to do?

A cousin, a sister and a sister-in-law all receive disability insurance and/or state help to raise their children. The cousin is the only one who does not also have a parent helping raising the children.

The cousin receives section 8 housing, state medical insurance, and food stamps. The father is 100% there for her and the children. With the state funding and help, he pays the difference for the rent and utilities.

The sister is applying for disability currently due to her epilepsy. Also receives state medical, and will be getting food stamps and cash assistance. She is living with her mother and step-father. She does not pay rent, an electric bill, cable bill, or phone bill. She does not buy groceries, diapers, or formula. The father is in the baby's life, but while he does provide few material things, it is not much. Heck he won't even let his son or fiance, my sister, live with him until she can support herself and the child.

The sister-in-law is also living with her parents. She has not had a job in 10+ years. The state and her parents support her children. In fact, she barely gets out of bed to take care of them. Yet the state provides everything to her to keep her children healthy, fed, and clothed.

Now myself. It took my husband being laid off for 6 months before I was able to qualify for state medical for myself and the children. And still my husband was brought into court for child support. It took my husband and I separating for my children and I to qualify for W.I.C. My home, which I am renting, is in foreclosure, and when it sells we have to move. My monthly rent plus basic utilities are twice as much as our monthly income. Yet I cannot qualify for state assistance. In order for me to receive housing help for my children and I, I must divorce my husband, have him totally forget about my children and I, and he needs to disappear and not pay any child support whatsoever.

I just recently found out due to my many psychiatric problems I could probably qualify for disability assistance. The problem with that is the problems I have are not preventing me from working, so that option is out, as I always have held a job.

According to the state my only option for housing when our current rent sells is to start saving now, can't do that and afford the rent, utilities, plus food and clothes, or to go into a shelter when the house sells and save up then.

So what is a mom to do? What do I do to make sure my children have shelter? Do I let myself go, let my labels and disorders take over, and quit my job and go for disability? Do I divorce my husband, have him leave my children and my life? Or do I keep going like I am and just see what happens? Maybe we will get lucky and someone will by the house as a rental property? Maybe the house won't sell? Maybe we will catch a break?

Its not like things haven't already improved drastically since one year ago...

Toms CurseBirthday

Today marks the day I am officially married to an old man. Tom turned 30 years old today. We are having a small BBQ next Sunday for him, as we refused to do anything for his birthday in fear something bad would happen.

See every year something happens on his birthday, whether a stomach bug, car accident, loss of something important, or death of someone close. Something always happens.

I woke up today feeling pretty good considering we had went out to dinner last night to celebrate and so far nothing had happened. Until I ran out to get McDonald's breakfast, and I saw my left ring finger. Yep, the one with my engagement ring and wedding band on it.

It happened again.
Toms Curseday struck again.
Only this time.. It struck me.
My rings are still there, but my diamond is gone. Completely gone.
The claws that hold it in place, bent, crushed and completely out of place.
(photo to come after work when battery is charged.)

Of course I am crushed. So crushed I have been in bed since. I feel horrible. I feel as if it is all my fault. I mean I have only had the damn ring for 5 years, this month. Five damn years and I couldn't keep my ring safe and beautiful.

I am just not meant to have nice things.
My camera-broken two lens in the year (minus 4 months in the pawn shop) I have had it.
Past, present, and future diamond necklace-broken two chains in the 1st year I had it.
My family bracelet-first month I had it I completely broke it in half.
It is a good thing nose rings and eyebrow rings are cheap as I have gone through more than I would care to admit.
I am just not meant to have nice things.
At least the diamond is not my fault.
It's the dates fault. If Toms birthday hadn't have come, it would be find. I promise you that.

Whats worse?

Yesterday we were given some bad news. My parents house they are renting is in foreclosure. The landlords are telling us it is not, but we were served the papers. The marshell had no clue there were tenants in the home. If it were the landlord, they would have until Nov. 25th to get out. It is a bit different for tenants, not much but a bit different. The marshell will come again on or a few days after the 25th to tell us our options. He said basically that they will give us our "get out" date. This really sucks. If Tom and I both start working today, we still will not be able to get our own place within 90 days. We have to fix our credit before either of us will be able to rent an apartment. Our credit is just that bad.. My father told us when they have to find a place they are looking for a 4 rm rent, which means we can't come. Which means, Tom and the kids will go move to my IL's but I have absolutely no where to go. No Where... I am really freaked out. I don't know what to do. I spoke with the state this morning, and they will help me find a shelter, but I am not bad off enough where they can help me with housing. WTF? I explained that My kids and I need a home. Need a place to stay. I didn't tell the lady that the kids can go to my IL's I made us sound worse off.. Apparently not too bad though since all they can do for us is a shelter. I am so scared. Last night I was in such a bad state of mind all I was thinking about when suicide again. I don't know what to do. I want another kid? How dare I even think about getting off the methodone and getting my body back to normal and getting pregnant if I don't even have a place to live?!

I have 65 days clean today. Which I am very proud of. I am on new meds. I am seeing a new shrink and counselor and going to groups for women addicts, mother and child, and relapse prevention. Tom is in the same boat as me, he has 38 days clean.. He just go his methodone dose to the right amount for him to be "functioning" So he just started working his butt off to find some work. He is actually doing some side jobs this weekend. But the union he is in still has no work.

I thought things were getting better. I thought things couldnt get any worse. I honestly do not no what to do. Tomorrow morning when I go to get my med I am going to ask to speak to someone. I need to talk to a professional. I am just not in a healthy state of mind. I mean I am when it comes to posting to other topics online. But not when I am just sitting or doing something around the house.. Its like I need to stay online or play with the boys just to keep my mind for fucking with me.

I thought things were getting much better.

The never ending cycle.

I convince my dad to spend $129 on a study guide to get me into working for the USPS. $129 I need to pay back when I get a job, fail the test, or do not land a job on the 1st interview. Well.. I finally get all the materials. For what? For me to find out that not one post office in CT is currently hiring. Not one. I can move anywhere else and apply. Just not in CT.. Maybe I should move to MD, or MA, or NJ, or RI..

Oh wait.

Can't move.
Can't move with out money.
Can't have money until I find a well paying job.
Can't find a well paying job unless I move.
Can't move without money.
Can't move.

Gotta love this vicious cycle.

154?!?!

Oh no! I knew the halloween candy would do it. I knew it.. I have been pigging out, porking out, and just plain devouring chocolate, sweets, brownies, and cookies for the past 10 days. Of course some of the lbs I have lost came back.. So freaking depressing. I have always been on the heavy side. At 13 I wieghed 140 lbs. At 14 I was up to 160. 15, 150. 16, 160. 17, 180. 18, 200. 19, 180, 20, 175, 21, 214. I am still 21. Since January I have lost 64 lbs, getting me down to 150 lbs, the lowest since I was 15, six years ago. Sadly, I did not do this the right way, but I have never felt better about my physical appearance, but after cleaning up my life, my old eating habits have been returning. Now, to maintain my healthy weight, maybe drop 20 lbs more. I want to do this right! I read that to maintain my weight with my body type and metabolism I should eat 2016 Calories/day now for fat loss 1612 Calories/day and for extreme fat loss, 1232 Calories/day. I have also read cutting down more than 500 Cal/day in a short time or more, will slow my metabolism. We do not want that! Anyway, within my ramblings I will also include what I have eaten for the day, as of that post. I normally have around 2,500-3,000 calories a day. So for the next 4 days I will aim for 2,000, with 25,000 being the absolute most. Today, I was busy so it was a slow eating day for me. I find if I am bored or not busy I eat more.

So here is today, so far, I will probably eat another something before bed, always have a snack around 9, 3 hours before bedtime.
24 oz of iced tea, 240 cal.
1 So. Beach dinner, 240 cal.
1 choco. donut, 180 cal.
2 fun size candy bars, 160 cal.
1 slice of bacon, 80 cal.
16 oz hot chocolate, 225 cal.
Total: 1125 cal



I have also walked the block and raked ½ the yard.

Oh! Just an F.Y.I. my BMI is 25, making me over weight. A healthy weight for someone my height is 115-145, depending on body type. My goal is 130 lbs! 24 lbs to lose!

The same ol' thing.

Everymorning it's the same old bullshit. Collin gets up first, talking and screaming in his crib. Then I roll my eyes at the start of another day, get up and make a bottle, hand it off to Collin in his crib, with a few toys and try to get a few more minutes of sleep. Then Thomas wakes up, joins Collin in the crib for some play in there so Mommy and Daddy can get a few more minutes of sleep. Next comes the mad dash. The dash to get the boys and ourselves dressed, which means: I get Collin dressed, Thomas changed, myself dressed, then Tom gets up, grabs a smoke, heads to the bathroom until he knows that I sure have done it all myself..again. Then we rush to get medicated and come back home.. and guess what!? By now, its noon.. time to start another mad dash.. Make some formula, make some lunch, and while Tom does do most of this part.. What does he do once the kids food is in front of them? Rush into P.J.s room to play PS3... Man it has only been a few days since that part has been apart of our daily routine but I am sick of it.. Not because he plays while the boys eat, but because he doesn't stop playing until P.J. goes to bed, around 9-10p.m!

I have been asking for a week now for him to take me somewhere so the boys can play in some leaves and I can get some great foliage photo's..

Maybe Today..

Treat others how you want to be treated.

Isn't that what all parents teach their children?
..Then why don't all parents treat their children, or son in laws in my case that way? Okay heres the deal. My husband was supposed to make his car payment today, with his unemployment check. Normally he makes xx amount of money, which just covers the car payment. For some reason unemployment only gave him x amount, which is ½ of what he needs. Okay.... Well the car is both my husbands name and my fathers... Yesterday my father made a huge fuss about my hubby making the payment because the last few have been late, very late, but were finally paid. Instead of my husband telling my father he didn't have the money last night when his check came, he waited until tonight. He waited so he could call unemployment and ask why he didn't get his whole amount. He also waited so he could try and come up with the other half of the payment. Of course, he didn't get the rest of the money so he went to talk to my father.
What does my father do...
The same thing he always does!
He flips out! Totally screaming, telling my husband and me we need to pack up, get our children who are ready for bed bundled up and get the f out of his house. Because unemployment changed the amount my husband gets with out notice, he wants us out of his house. He doesn't care his screaming is affecting my children, his grandsons! He doesn't care my three year old and nine month old are crying their eyes out, scared out of their minds, begging mommy to make Poppy stop yelling. My father does not care!
I do understand him being upset, over the past few months my husband and I were terrible. I know this, he knows this, everyone knows this. We were addicts. We did exactly what he did 9+ years ago when he was battling his addiction.
He says he understands us getting clean and getting back on our feet. He says he understands us being broke. He says he is their to help us. Yet the minute things are not his way or not on his terms, he freaks! It is an every other day thing where he has to fight us. He fights us because my husband doesn't go to N.A. He fights us because my husband would rather collect unemployment than make half of what he makes there at McDonald's or Stop and Shop. He fights us because my Methadone makes me nod more now than when I was getting high. He fights us because we turn on the kitchen light instead of the pantry light. He fights us because we stay up late and have our television, in our room on past two a.m. He fights us because we only have one working vehicle. He fights us all the time, over every little thing. And him fighting us means him screaming and yelling and slamming doors and throwing things in front of my children. His fighting us means my young children being scared, crying, and begging mommy to make it stop.
He was an addict. He knows what it is like when you are first getting clean. He knows how hard it is to get back on your feet and pull yourself out of that gutter.

Why can't he treat others the way he wants to be treated?

If we yell at him we might as well be homeless, but he can treat us like the worthless junkies he believes us to be.

Yet why am I complaining? What right do I have to complain? I mean he is letting us live here rent free, all four of us..