Chapter 9: Anal Rape

I sat across from him, nostrils flaring, as he spelled out the misgivings I have been so fervently attempting to hide. Priority. Responsibility. A mistake last week that could have cost him $3000. What do you do when you realize that, in trying to keep the casualties low to nill, you have created a fox hole in your office? I kept me, the kids, food, shelter, my mother - mostly afloat while I tried to do one of the hardest things in my 30 years.
Regardless of now- regardless that I am letting Him back into my life - like a morphine drip- the bag nearly bursting with expectation. Regardless of that, this has been hell. Ever had a migraine? Know that "hangover" that happens when the final throbs have ceased? That hangover has been looming in me since September. The hangover of doubt: the nausea of worry, those little black specs of shame.
I could have tried harder, but I am stuck in a selfish phase right now. So I would pop on email 5 or 6 times a day to check in on those that I love? So I would stay at my desk and eat my turkey burger while playing Bejeweled instead of going away from my monitor. Escape. Ever try to escape your life and fix it at the same time?
So I fucked it up. I cant handle that much responsibility now. Fuck me for trying to hold it together.
I wrote the letter - gloriously worded defeat. Gathered my shit, handed him my pitiful excuses and walked out. No sir, I haven't been thinking about this for a while, but perhaps I should have. Thank you for opening my eyes fully to how I've anal-raped my chances at a great job. Thank you folks, and good night.

Bless the warm weather (a whopping 36 F today) or I would have never been able to make my quick, angsty getaway from the office parking lot. Hildegarde needs at least 20 minutes of warm-up or she wont get out of first gear. Not only did I get out of
1st, I got up to nearly 80mph going East on 94 for the few exits I needed to get to Him. Go ahead Mr. Policeman, pull me over for doing 25 miles over the speed limit. Dare ye who fucks with a woman fueled by self-pity.
Bless the day off from work He had.
Bless the appointment He had to leave abruptly for so that I could sit here in his quiet apartment and sulk. Alone. Surrounded by my kids' toys, eating King Vitamin from a bowl I fell in love with at an antique store in Stillwater. Drinking Jasmine tea from a mug I bought my mother for its light feel in her arthritic hands.

The Picking, as I call it, started - well, progressed to full force really - just after Sawyer was born. I'd later be told it was a form of self mutilation akin to pulling out your hair and eating it. Niiiice. Good to know. While I should have devoured the tea to calm my nerves and left my pretty hands alone - I did just the opposite. Now, as I write the preliminary draft of this latest installment of emotional diarrhea, I do it with marred fingertips. I have deskinned my cuticles and the soft pads of skin at the tips of my fingers. How centering self mutilation can be. Focus, grasshopper.
So what now? Well, as epiphanies go, I think the blood on my fingers has been well spilt. The guidance I have received from the Rape and Abuse Crisis Center, the donations from women's charities, the shelter provided to me and my children by the YWCA - all need to be repaid. If I am to feel worth anything at all, I must find a career with less responsibility, similar pay and that gives back. So that leaves me to call my counselor, my contacts at the Y and other women's charities and get movin.
Time to mop the floor with myself. Time to clean up the puddle of scug I have become. Time to get my ass in gear.

Straight to my heart

It's kindof how I imagine the Irish feel when they hear bagpipes.

Some 'splainin to do

I know, I know.

You can all roll your eyes and wave your mental fingers at me... I know.

I know I said I was done with him, I know I said that I hated him and I'd never have anything to do with him ever again.... I know. I know. I know.

But see, there's the sex. And see, I'm 31. Do I need to draw you a diagram?!

And there's a difference now. This shit is on my terms. I'm not the weeping willow I was before. I'm a damned stubborn Redwood and no amount of huffing and puffing's gonna bring me down. No sir.

And I'm still going through with the divorce 'cause as far as I'm concerned, that marriage that was that thing.... you know... that person I was - that, that eewie snivelling heap of insecure and belittled... that just needs to go away. Forever.

I'm back - say it loud, I'm (um black?) BACK AND I'M PROUD!

So am I slightly ruled by my vagina? Maybe.

But I won't go back there. I won't ever be her again.

I'm not about to go out to the bar scene and pick up any 'ol virile twentysomething just so I can have a backup plan in case I run out of batteries. This guy knows me. I don't have to school him on how to do that thing that I like. He's got it covered.

So is it possibly out of laziness? I considered that. Jury's still out on that one.

Is it possibly because I am a bad girl and like sneaking around my family and friends and not telling them that I am friends with this guy - that was that guy and did all that shit...Um. No. I don't like lying to the people that love me.

They have seen me lower than any human should go.

But they hold me accountable for their respect for me, and I am just now slowly building that back up. They wouldn't understand that, instead of finding Random Fargo Frat Boy to schtoop, I'm schtoopping the father of my kids.

I'm not gonna say I'm a complete lowlife scum, but I'm not gonna sit here feeling justified and all "Bitch Pahleese" either. No talking to the hand. S'aldight? S'aldight.

Part masochist, part slave to loooove, but mostly I'm a derelict to reason -

All things I have done within the last 24 hours:

had 2 doughnuts
2 dinners (one at lunch, one at dinner)
had lunch with my soon-to-be-ex:
(Did I stare lovingly into his eyes, did I yearn to curl up in his lap? Did his presence make me moist in my naughty bits?? HELL. YEAH.)
masturbated furiously
sent the kids to bed without brushing their teeth
had a total of NINE CUPS OF COFFEE
picked boogers from my daughters nose with a set of tweezers
slacked at work
busted my ass at work
shopped online at work (mmmm....want this.....)
signed the kids up for those Dolly Parton books
lied to my mother
unsuccessfully set a date for nookie with the soon-to-be-ex
regretfully sent the kids to be at their dad's for FIVE WHOLE DAYS


urgh.
See, among all the other crap that I'm trying to figure out, something came to me. I simply am not able to get my period unless I partake in one of our historically earth-shatteringly orgasmic sessions with the soon-to-be-ex.
So without the period-bringer, I eat. And I masturbate. Both in what would be socially unacceptable proportions... at what would be considered often inappropriate locations. Like popping into the restroom at Hornbachers... or at work.... or attempting to steal some time at home while the crotchlings beat at the bathroom door.
So, you see, I can't ever fully ditch this guy. The sex is not only too good, it's medically necessary.

That, and well - I love him. There. I said it. Standing in a door frame now.

Oh, and I nearly forgot:

Going through Fremont Ohio on the way to my mothers, I noticed it. All I could do was blink - and then the riotous laughter came. Lucky the roads were good that day, cuz I ended up crossing lanes of traffic. I told Ma about it when I got to Jersey, and I'm not quite sure she believed me. But there, at the end of our first day of travel - there it was. We pulled over for the night and stayed at the Holiday Inn. Upon getting off the freeway and paying the toll (gnarrr! tolls!), Mom and I lost it. We cackled our way through asking the toll lady why on earth there is a street with the most odd name we had ever seen. I had to stop about 30 feet after we went through the booth to wipe the tears from my eyes.
Try Googl-ing it, other people have seen it too.
Prepare yourself: click here.

I'm particularly partial to the definition of "Vampire Erection".

So after fishing around on the Fremont Visitors Guide site, I found this. After putting in "Fangboner" into the last names, I ran the search and came up with 23 matches going back to 1874. My guess is that's where the name came from.
And they were a prolific bunch, that Fangboner clan... uh -huh.

Onward brave knights

So I don't really know where to start.
... But the drive out to Jersey was peaceful. Even through Wisconsin and it's aggravating semi's - splashing my windshield with gunk and rendering me yelling and blind in the evening blackness. Even that, was okay.
I arrived at the border of Ohio with no actual cash and in need of some sleep, so I slept with the rental running until 6am when the daily limit on my ATM would roll over and I could pay the damned $1 toll.
Tolls - seriously - it was about $30 in tolls one way.
But it was peaceful, mindless driving. I didn't think - about anything. Until Pennsylvania. At which point I had an internal dialogue about fairness that resulted in a sniveling call to the Soon To Be Ex.
"Why me? Why all of it? You have a mother that killed your sense of self and is the reason for 70% of your isms - you have a sister that you both deeply love and absolutely cannot trust.... but you threw all of your inner hatred and self loathing at me... why? Why did I have to bear the burden? I was but a small sliver of the pie of pain in your head. Shit, you could barely balance an olive under all that cheese..."
Again, more rhetorical questions to the man that can only give me apologies now. I have stood on the pulpit and shown my scars, I have the nightmares still, I cry when I feel how much the children want us to just be in the same room for more than five minutes... all we have are what's left of our choices.
I chose to leave him to his pain. He is a better parent now that I'm not there to depend on - I hope. I hear tell of him getting a new PC and I am filled with anxiety at the hours upon hours of time he will still not fully admit to spending in front of that thing - the compromised parenting to play games and spend money we didn't have.
And even through the coffee jitters of anxiety I have to tell myself it's not my problem anymore.

So Pennsylvania - a state I absolutely adore for its mountains and views - hit me. Well, I hit back. I made it through that windy state by 7pm and got to my mother's in Jersey around 10. Were it not for the infamously poorly labeled highway system out there, I would have been there around 9.
A few odd things happened while in Jersey:
First, I was visited by a totem that I can only assume was sent by my brother. She was a Coopers Hawk.
While unloading boxes onto the front steps of a local charity thrift store, I had an urge to simply look up. There, perched on a thick branch not 12 feet from my head she just looked down at me. Just sat there, and looked.
So I spoke to her. I greeted her, asked her where her mate and her babies were. Then I asked her if she was there to look after me. She answered with a high pitched squeal and stomped her feet. Well ohhhkay. I spoke to her of how lovely she was, thanked her for her visit, and told her it was about time for me to go as I had much to do that day. At those words, she dropped from the branch - soundlessly- spread her wings and swooped away.
And that was that.
I ran back to tell my mother what I saw - filled with glee- I knew that my brother was familiar with my love of birds and knew that if he wished to make himself known to me, he'd have to go for the obvious. Secretly, however, I doubted some that it was even him.
During the next half hour I heard her again. I was loading the rental and heard her - about 100 feet away- screeching at me. She was nearly imploring in her call... lest I forget her.
So with her blessing we loaded up in the rain. It was 46 degrees that day.

When finished, we stayed at a friend of hers house. As I settled in for the evening, I pulled out my laptop and searched for a wireless signal. I found a few with family names or merely code numbers. The signal I chose lasted me nearly an hour before I lost it. Upon a second search, I found merely encrypted signals. Not giving up, I searched again.. and there it was..... steven. Soooo creepy.

We originally had a slew of places we wanted to go (translation: lots of eating to do), but we opted for just leaving. Screw it.
So three days, 1500 miles, wierdness, omens and 10 crappy road-meals later here we are. I have my mommy and my two beautiful children.
And so I begin this year much as I had surmised my last year: Everyone needs someone to take care of them.

We are all merely a chain of "taking care of". To break the chain is to be lost to yourself, your humanity and to others.

So Much of Nothing

As you may or may not know, I traveled out east and picked up my mother to come and live with me and my children in the Frozen Tundra. It was a long trip, I racked up about 3000 miles in five days.
The trip had its oddness, supernatural touches and a little bit of fun.
That being said, I am safe, happy and sick again. I chose this print because I was visited by a totem while in NJ, and I rather lack the energy or time to go into details right now of all the occurrences of my trip. But I will give you this print while I build my strength to begin writing again.