Rants Of An Over Middle Aged Redhead
My own place to share my life, thoughts, dreams and beliefs.
Tuesday, December 30, 2014
So much has changed......
So much has changed.....
If you think I'm losing my mind after reading this, ok, so what. I know life is not fair, but hoping you don't wake up the next day is unfair also. Its not the material crap, money or social status. I've lost every part of who I am and now just trying to cope with being a complete opposite to survive another day. So, don't judge. It can happen to anyone, although I hope not. We all should still be able to dream, hope, and have some happiness.
All of them are gone, all I have left is Buddy and with his age and health, I don't expect to have him very long. They left me here, I am with no options, no one who actually really cares. Everyday is just a curse. I have been beat down to the point, I no longer know myself. There's no one left to lean on, cry to, love, hold, cherish, no one. My beloved Kaye passed on 2 years ago this next March. The only man who made me feel like a beautiful person, John Wayne, my brother, cousin, true friend was gone a year this past Dec. 13. I get so mad because they won't come back for me. Its a roller coaster, one day I am something treasured, then for weeks I am nothing. Just a dependant, stupid, ugly, worthless nothing. Every word out of my mouth is ignorant, making me feel unworthy of breathing his high society, better than everyone else air. It has been so long since I have been treated like I am worthy that I no longer try to be. I do not clean the house, nor do I care that I live in filth. I try, this is not me. Me would care, me would do any and everything to have a home, plants, make up, hair, clothes that I was proud of. No matter how little money I had before this disaster, I was proud of how I utilized it. I cared, I enjoyed living, the veggies I grew, the flowers that bloomed, fresh misty morning air, sunsets, thunderstorms. The free, fabulous joys life gives those who take the time to appreciate them. Those are the wonders I enjoyed with every loved one who has passed on. Simple, innocent, casual joy. My most cherished moments are those, losing the memory of knowing what happiness feels like is absolutely killing me in many ways. You could say it's my own fault, but hell no. I didn't know they'd all go away. I had to cut ties with my best friend, Angie, back in June. She finally pushed every button, toxic is putting it mildly. As I said, I have no allies left, only those who make them selves feel good by hurting others, those who don't give two shits about anything simple or beautiful. I wish I had the guts to end it, to leave this fucked up lie of a life that I hate to the extent it is eating me from the inside out. I like to eat, feed my furbabies, have shelter. So being happy or enjoying one moment of living is not even a remote possibility as I can forsee in the future. I want to drive out to Pine Top in my Trans Am t tops out, jacked on white crosses, starting on a 12 pk, with a couple of joints to smoke. The sun would be just starting to set on a warm, not humid, late spring day. The road to the top of the secluded hill wouldn't be too washed out from the rain 2 days ago, just a little dust in the rear view. Not alone, with anyone who made beautiful memories with me in the past, when I was me. Just sit there, listen to great tunes, both country and rock, get a killer buzz, laugh, lay on the hood, gaze at the colors of the sunset until the heat lightning appeared after dark. If I had that as my very last memory, if I had passed on like that years ago, I could conclude my life was wonderful. I don't want to go out hating every moment I must exist, lonely, sad and empty. I want to fire that TA up, feel the wind in my hair, righteous tunes massaging my ears, smell the fragrant summertime, smoke some killer weed, then smile as I drive off into the sunset, never looking back, never coming back but
KNOWING I loved life and it was good, very good. At least I have one dream left.....
If you think I'm losing my mind after reading this, ok, so what. I know life is not fair, but hoping you don't wake up the next day is unfair also. Its not the material crap, money or social status. I've lost every part of who I am and now just trying to cope with being a complete opposite to survive another day. So, don't judge. It can happen to anyone, although I hope not. We all should still be able to dream, hope, and have some happiness.
All of them are gone, all I have left is Buddy and with his age and health, I don't expect to have him very long. They left me here, I am with no options, no one who actually really cares. Everyday is just a curse. I have been beat down to the point, I no longer know myself. There's no one left to lean on, cry to, love, hold, cherish, no one. My beloved Kaye passed on 2 years ago this next March. The only man who made me feel like a beautiful person, John Wayne, my brother, cousin, true friend was gone a year this past Dec. 13. I get so mad because they won't come back for me. Its a roller coaster, one day I am something treasured, then for weeks I am nothing. Just a dependant, stupid, ugly, worthless nothing. Every word out of my mouth is ignorant, making me feel unworthy of breathing his high society, better than everyone else air. It has been so long since I have been treated like I am worthy that I no longer try to be. I do not clean the house, nor do I care that I live in filth. I try, this is not me. Me would care, me would do any and everything to have a home, plants, make up, hair, clothes that I was proud of. No matter how little money I had before this disaster, I was proud of how I utilized it. I cared, I enjoyed living, the veggies I grew, the flowers that bloomed, fresh misty morning air, sunsets, thunderstorms. The free, fabulous joys life gives those who take the time to appreciate them. Those are the wonders I enjoyed with every loved one who has passed on. Simple, innocent, casual joy. My most cherished moments are those, losing the memory of knowing what happiness feels like is absolutely killing me in many ways. You could say it's my own fault, but hell no. I didn't know they'd all go away. I had to cut ties with my best friend, Angie, back in June. She finally pushed every button, toxic is putting it mildly. As I said, I have no allies left, only those who make them selves feel good by hurting others, those who don't give two shits about anything simple or beautiful. I wish I had the guts to end it, to leave this fucked up lie of a life that I hate to the extent it is eating me from the inside out. I like to eat, feed my furbabies, have shelter. So being happy or enjoying one moment of living is not even a remote possibility as I can forsee in the future. I want to drive out to Pine Top in my Trans Am t tops out, jacked on white crosses, starting on a 12 pk, with a couple of joints to smoke. The sun would be just starting to set on a warm, not humid, late spring day. The road to the top of the secluded hill wouldn't be too washed out from the rain 2 days ago, just a little dust in the rear view. Not alone, with anyone who made beautiful memories with me in the past, when I was me. Just sit there, listen to great tunes, both country and rock, get a killer buzz, laugh, lay on the hood, gaze at the colors of the sunset until the heat lightning appeared after dark. If I had that as my very last memory, if I had passed on like that years ago, I could conclude my life was wonderful. I don't want to go out hating every moment I must exist, lonely, sad and empty. I want to fire that TA up, feel the wind in my hair, righteous tunes massaging my ears, smell the fragrant summertime, smoke some killer weed, then smile as I drive off into the sunset, never looking back, never coming back but
KNOWING I loved life and it was good, very good. At least I have one dream left.....
Thursday, May 17, 2012
Can't I Just Run Far Far Away?
I have to get away from here, NOW! Staying is only going to result in me going to prison for doing something stupid in a fit of rage. My inlaws seem like the sweetest old people ever to most but those people aren't their daughter in law. They are demanding that I sell all MY possessions to pay back a loan that my husband got from them. Must be nice to kick someone while they are already down. By the way, these are the same people who had 100 acres of flourishing wildlife habitat clear cut to fund a gambling trip and cruise. They still won't shut up trying to convince me to do the same, which completely goes against everything I believe in. Well, Karma does exist, but takes it's sweet time with these people.
I have a brother who has Down's Syndrome. He has overcome the odds and is in his 40's. I love Mike beyond what words can express. A few years ago his mother(my stepmonster) who I have never gotten along with, forbid me to ever see him or my father again. We only live a few miles apart. Sunday, I put on my big girl panties, got brave and went shopping with Angie. In WalMart, guess who was down an aisle, my brother and father. They didn't see me. It was most likely for the best since she was a couple of aisles away and spotted me right off. Ever heard of "laser beam eyes"? I'd be ground meat right now if hers worked properly! I really want to have a one on one with her but what we have to discuss shouldn't be attempted in a public place. Things will get ugly, there is no way around that. 45 years of anger and hatred coming out will be catastrophic.
I have mourned the loss of our house for months now and wanted so badly to go home, that's all. Well....something in me switched suddenly. We will most likely be moving back in a couple of months from now. Someone we know bought it so we could rent to own it. The price was less than half what we owed when it was foreclosed on. Banks are so stupid! They could have let us refi and kept getting those high payments with interest. About the switch.. I don't want to go back home anymore. Back when we lost it, the plan was to live on our land which is so beautiful and completely wooded. That plan fell through due to the bitch who won't let us use our deeded easement without a long expensive lawsuit. Going back to that house means also going back to every problem that was there before. It still needs a roof, water pressure sucks, carpet is worn out, needs paint inside and out, and it is close to the road. Those are the problems that don't bother me much. Those are the easy ones! Going back means his parents will be spying on my every move again, the brother in law will have his nose stuck in everything we do, the idiots who ride loud 4 wheelers all hours of the day and night will still be driving me crazy, and for some reason everyone thinks our driveway is a park and party spot at 3 am. Living in travel trailer doesn't seem so bad now. It is pretty nice, just way too small. I'd gladly take it and move somewhere far away with my dogs, cats and plants. Just that, he can stay here with that house and enjoy it all by himself for all I care.
All my life, I have never really wanted to run away from here. Each time I went somewhere for a few days, it made me so homesick. I was born here and have lived here since. All the problems, bad times, loss of loved ones, family disputes never made me want to leave and not look back. I'll be 46 in July. I want to leave now. My pets are all that give me a reason to hang around. I know that Angie will eventually end up where I go, so I don't have to worry about seeing her again. There's nothing else keeping me stuck in a place that is full of closed minded people, no jobs cause here it's who you know or who you blow, a bunch of church drunk hypocrites, and small town gossip. I have not had any real quality of life since my grandpa died. We hung out, went places, and were the best of friends. He was so good at keeping me sane. We would get in the car and just drive. We enjoyed so much that most take for granted. One time we drove for hours just to get good slug burgers. It was new adventure everytime. Those are the memories I treasure. There was nothing better than those times we would drive just to see the beauty of sunshine and see the gifts nature has blessed us with. I miss him more than I have ever missed anyone or anything. He was so cool. Always wore overalls and had the pockets full of gadgets that he might just need if something happened. He loved and respected this planet and all the creatures living on it. If I could only remember half of the wisdom he shared with me, my life would be so much better now. Oh, he was so stubborn and set in his ways! I was still his little redheaded girl that stayed on his heels every step he made. There's nothing I can do to bring him back, I have already tried like a fool, a crazy deranged fool. My soul died the day he stopped breathing. This sounds so bad, but I couldn't even be at the funeral home without being completely drunk and doped up. Believe me, people don't understand that one bit. It was the only way I could be at the time. I don't go visit his grave, he's not there. He is with me and will never leave me, he promised. He never lied to me, so I know that is true.
I'm going out of my mind trying to figure out my get the hell out of here plan. I won't be homesick this time. I need a new start, a job, a whole new life and that is my goal from here on out. No matter what roles I have to play in the drama right here right now, my only chance for happiness is to get away. I am not any more special than anyone else but I feel like I have the right to at least be happy. It's been a rough life so far and I have to change that somehow someway. I have been beat half to death by drunks, had my hard earned money stolen by people I trusted, spent years trying to help others who won't even help themselves, watched helplessly while everything I owned went up in flames, cried out for help while others laughed in my face, and worst of all been mentally tortured over and over again for no legitimate reason. Physical abuse is not near as painful as mental abuse. I look back now and wonder which time I went left when I should have turned right. I will find a way to be happy again, I have to. Staying here is not an option anymore. There's a place for me. I just have to run away to get there.
I have a brother who has Down's Syndrome. He has overcome the odds and is in his 40's. I love Mike beyond what words can express. A few years ago his mother(my stepmonster) who I have never gotten along with, forbid me to ever see him or my father again. We only live a few miles apart. Sunday, I put on my big girl panties, got brave and went shopping with Angie. In WalMart, guess who was down an aisle, my brother and father. They didn't see me. It was most likely for the best since she was a couple of aisles away and spotted me right off. Ever heard of "laser beam eyes"? I'd be ground meat right now if hers worked properly! I really want to have a one on one with her but what we have to discuss shouldn't be attempted in a public place. Things will get ugly, there is no way around that. 45 years of anger and hatred coming out will be catastrophic.
I have mourned the loss of our house for months now and wanted so badly to go home, that's all. Well....something in me switched suddenly. We will most likely be moving back in a couple of months from now. Someone we know bought it so we could rent to own it. The price was less than half what we owed when it was foreclosed on. Banks are so stupid! They could have let us refi and kept getting those high payments with interest. About the switch.. I don't want to go back home anymore. Back when we lost it, the plan was to live on our land which is so beautiful and completely wooded. That plan fell through due to the bitch who won't let us use our deeded easement without a long expensive lawsuit. Going back to that house means also going back to every problem that was there before. It still needs a roof, water pressure sucks, carpet is worn out, needs paint inside and out, and it is close to the road. Those are the problems that don't bother me much. Those are the easy ones! Going back means his parents will be spying on my every move again, the brother in law will have his nose stuck in everything we do, the idiots who ride loud 4 wheelers all hours of the day and night will still be driving me crazy, and for some reason everyone thinks our driveway is a park and party spot at 3 am. Living in travel trailer doesn't seem so bad now. It is pretty nice, just way too small. I'd gladly take it and move somewhere far away with my dogs, cats and plants. Just that, he can stay here with that house and enjoy it all by himself for all I care.
All my life, I have never really wanted to run away from here. Each time I went somewhere for a few days, it made me so homesick. I was born here and have lived here since. All the problems, bad times, loss of loved ones, family disputes never made me want to leave and not look back. I'll be 46 in July. I want to leave now. My pets are all that give me a reason to hang around. I know that Angie will eventually end up where I go, so I don't have to worry about seeing her again. There's nothing else keeping me stuck in a place that is full of closed minded people, no jobs cause here it's who you know or who you blow, a bunch of church drunk hypocrites, and small town gossip. I have not had any real quality of life since my grandpa died. We hung out, went places, and were the best of friends. He was so good at keeping me sane. We would get in the car and just drive. We enjoyed so much that most take for granted. One time we drove for hours just to get good slug burgers. It was new adventure everytime. Those are the memories I treasure. There was nothing better than those times we would drive just to see the beauty of sunshine and see the gifts nature has blessed us with. I miss him more than I have ever missed anyone or anything. He was so cool. Always wore overalls and had the pockets full of gadgets that he might just need if something happened. He loved and respected this planet and all the creatures living on it. If I could only remember half of the wisdom he shared with me, my life would be so much better now. Oh, he was so stubborn and set in his ways! I was still his little redheaded girl that stayed on his heels every step he made. There's nothing I can do to bring him back, I have already tried like a fool, a crazy deranged fool. My soul died the day he stopped breathing. This sounds so bad, but I couldn't even be at the funeral home without being completely drunk and doped up. Believe me, people don't understand that one bit. It was the only way I could be at the time. I don't go visit his grave, he's not there. He is with me and will never leave me, he promised. He never lied to me, so I know that is true.
I'm going out of my mind trying to figure out my get the hell out of here plan. I won't be homesick this time. I need a new start, a job, a whole new life and that is my goal from here on out. No matter what roles I have to play in the drama right here right now, my only chance for happiness is to get away. I am not any more special than anyone else but I feel like I have the right to at least be happy. It's been a rough life so far and I have to change that somehow someway. I have been beat half to death by drunks, had my hard earned money stolen by people I trusted, spent years trying to help others who won't even help themselves, watched helplessly while everything I owned went up in flames, cried out for help while others laughed in my face, and worst of all been mentally tortured over and over again for no legitimate reason. Physical abuse is not near as painful as mental abuse. I look back now and wonder which time I went left when I should have turned right. I will find a way to be happy again, I have to. Staying here is not an option anymore. There's a place for me. I just have to run away to get there.
Thursday, March 22, 2012
It's been awhile...
Since this doesn't get read, it doesn't matter what I say so...
I'm just so tired of living. It's springtime, what used to be my favorite time of the year. Now I don't even care. Last night, I saw the first lightning bugs this year. Didn't seem to have that same effect on me that it used to, didn't make me think of fairies and magical creatures this time. Dogwoods are blooming, so what. The day before Ostara, noticed that there was one little pink bloom on petunias that came back from last year, no big deal this time. How can I, someone who could always find beauty and pleasure in the most simple things, just not give a shit anymore? The only, and I do mean only, pleasures I get out of life are my best friend and dog Buddy, and playing Farmville. Strange, huh? I panic with every noise heard, keep the blinds closed that someone might be able to see in at, curse the fact that I still have to breathe. Want to just run away to a magical land or become a beach bum in California. Buddy is my lifeline. I just can't leave him or make him live without me. We have been together for 12 years and other than being a different species and not having my blood, he is my child.
Yesterday I had to get out the earbuds and listen to some "cry in my beer" music. All that did was bring back memories of happier times. Just made the whole situation worse. I have so had it with all this "put your faith in god" crap from people. By now they ought to know, I don't worship their god. I worship a goddess. Someone told me to listen, She would guide me. I have tried, numerous times there has been no answer. So now I don't know if I believe in anything anymore. Some how my mind has adopted this weird theory that I am just here to be miserable and depressed. Maybe that is why I am still around. It's some sort of celestial joke that is being played on a big flat screen somewhere while the universe is making fun of my struggles to decide whether I live or die. I am just one speck of sand that someone has brushed off in annoyance. I matter to no one in any way except to Buddy. He is the only one left on this earth that cares for me. He is the only one who cares enough to be by my side while I struggle. I have tried to reach out to others, all I get is no response. As much love as I want to believe I have to share, Buddy is the only one who will accept it.
I'm just so tired of living. It's springtime, what used to be my favorite time of the year. Now I don't even care. Last night, I saw the first lightning bugs this year. Didn't seem to have that same effect on me that it used to, didn't make me think of fairies and magical creatures this time. Dogwoods are blooming, so what. The day before Ostara, noticed that there was one little pink bloom on petunias that came back from last year, no big deal this time. How can I, someone who could always find beauty and pleasure in the most simple things, just not give a shit anymore? The only, and I do mean only, pleasures I get out of life are my best friend and dog Buddy, and playing Farmville. Strange, huh? I panic with every noise heard, keep the blinds closed that someone might be able to see in at, curse the fact that I still have to breathe. Want to just run away to a magical land or become a beach bum in California. Buddy is my lifeline. I just can't leave him or make him live without me. We have been together for 12 years and other than being a different species and not having my blood, he is my child.
Yesterday I had to get out the earbuds and listen to some "cry in my beer" music. All that did was bring back memories of happier times. Just made the whole situation worse. I have so had it with all this "put your faith in god" crap from people. By now they ought to know, I don't worship their god. I worship a goddess. Someone told me to listen, She would guide me. I have tried, numerous times there has been no answer. So now I don't know if I believe in anything anymore. Some how my mind has adopted this weird theory that I am just here to be miserable and depressed. Maybe that is why I am still around. It's some sort of celestial joke that is being played on a big flat screen somewhere while the universe is making fun of my struggles to decide whether I live or die. I am just one speck of sand that someone has brushed off in annoyance. I matter to no one in any way except to Buddy. He is the only one left on this earth that cares for me. He is the only one who cares enough to be by my side while I struggle. I have tried to reach out to others, all I get is no response. As much love as I want to believe I have to share, Buddy is the only one who will accept it.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
First Blog Ever and I'm 44-My Abbreviated Life Story
Hi. My name is Debbie. I'm a rapidly aging 44 year old redhead who has alot to say that probably no one is interested in. I'll never be consistent with my blogging, bore everyone to death and this may never be read, who knows? But here goes, from the beginning:
I was born in July 1966 in Tennessee to a beautiful redhead and her husband sperm donor after 6 years of marriage. 7 months after my birth as she was driving to work on icy roads, my life changed forever when she slid off an ice covered bridge and died a few hours later. My "father" went off the deep end for a very short period of time, very short. All I ever had after that day was my loving maternal grandparents who raised me and did everything they could, despite being poor southern people, to spoil me rotten. 6 weeks after my mother's death, my 24 year old father married my 14 year old step mother from hell. Of course, he didn't have any testicular fortitude, so she, being the bitch she was, is and always will be, easily convinced him to forget I existed. I am the spitting image of my mother, or at least I was at age 22. That is as old as she ever got to be. My grandparents only had one child and I was all they had left. I was a tomboy, still am. I had little overalls to match Papaw's, worked on the old 1950 Chevy truck with him, picked cotton, worked in the garden, and even got an occasional but small sip of beer with him. In my eyes and my opinion, he was the greatest man that ever lived. My grandma was really cool, too but with a hell of a temper. Not violent, just a hell of a temper. We had a pet racoon named Sammy. He died when I was 4. I still pull out the only picture I have of him and he's laying on my father's chest. He was 14 when he died. I'll never forget how hard and long I cried. I got a social security check until age 18 for some reason because my momma died. Father was my legal guardian and wouldn't let my grandparents legally adopt me for reasons unknown. The only time I saw him for years at a time was when he would come over to sign that check. He lived 8 miles down the road. Sometimes he wouldn't even come by so Papaw had to go hunt him down to sign it. It's funny how I can remember things like that. So why am I blogging? 1. I need to put all this somewhere before I do get old enough to forget it. 2. I have read blogs, forums, etc. where others put down memories and feelings and I appreciated them because they are important to the ones who typed them. 3. Right now my life SUCKS. I have had major depression issues for over 20 years, dr. medication doesn't work, talking to an unsympathetic shrink with a time limit doesn't work, my best friend since 1st grade has enough problems of her own and I refuse to burden her with mine, SO this is my vent, my memories, my heartaches and my story to share whether anyone out there cares enough to read it or not. At least I can stop holding it in because holding it in is doing alot more damage than good. I have no kids, 1 friend and a husband with a blank stare, so I gotta do something. I'll continue this story next time. Maybe someone will read this and I can make a few friends that I may never meet, but at least I won't be shutting the world out anymore.
I was born in July 1966 in Tennessee to a beautiful redhead and her husband sperm donor after 6 years of marriage. 7 months after my birth as she was driving to work on icy roads, my life changed forever when she slid off an ice covered bridge and died a few hours later. My "father" went off the deep end for a very short period of time, very short. All I ever had after that day was my loving maternal grandparents who raised me and did everything they could, despite being poor southern people, to spoil me rotten. 6 weeks after my mother's death, my 24 year old father married my 14 year old step mother from hell. Of course, he didn't have any testicular fortitude, so she, being the bitch she was, is and always will be, easily convinced him to forget I existed. I am the spitting image of my mother, or at least I was at age 22. That is as old as she ever got to be. My grandparents only had one child and I was all they had left. I was a tomboy, still am. I had little overalls to match Papaw's, worked on the old 1950 Chevy truck with him, picked cotton, worked in the garden, and even got an occasional but small sip of beer with him. In my eyes and my opinion, he was the greatest man that ever lived. My grandma was really cool, too but with a hell of a temper. Not violent, just a hell of a temper. We had a pet racoon named Sammy. He died when I was 4. I still pull out the only picture I have of him and he's laying on my father's chest. He was 14 when he died. I'll never forget how hard and long I cried. I got a social security check until age 18 for some reason because my momma died. Father was my legal guardian and wouldn't let my grandparents legally adopt me for reasons unknown. The only time I saw him for years at a time was when he would come over to sign that check. He lived 8 miles down the road. Sometimes he wouldn't even come by so Papaw had to go hunt him down to sign it. It's funny how I can remember things like that. So why am I blogging? 1. I need to put all this somewhere before I do get old enough to forget it. 2. I have read blogs, forums, etc. where others put down memories and feelings and I appreciated them because they are important to the ones who typed them. 3. Right now my life SUCKS. I have had major depression issues for over 20 years, dr. medication doesn't work, talking to an unsympathetic shrink with a time limit doesn't work, my best friend since 1st grade has enough problems of her own and I refuse to burden her with mine, SO this is my vent, my memories, my heartaches and my story to share whether anyone out there cares enough to read it or not. At least I can stop holding it in because holding it in is doing alot more damage than good. I have no kids, 1 friend and a husband with a blank stare, so I gotta do something. I'll continue this story next time. Maybe someone will read this and I can make a few friends that I may never meet, but at least I won't be shutting the world out anymore.
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