When Can I Go Home

Hiatus

poor_turtle — Tue, 20 Sep 2005 12:27:53 GMT

I'm taking a kind-of-almost-permenant hiatus from live journal. I'll still be around but I won't really be active (not that I am anyway). I just don't have time.

I read all your journals and I am genuinly interested in everyone on my list. Yees, EVERYONE, even the ones I've never commented on. I read all my friends everyday but I honestly don't have the time to post everyday or comment everyday. I get about 1/2 an hour everyday to be online and that time is used to read journals and to communicate with my daughter. When I have the time to be online longer that's when I comment and post.

I feel kind of bad because I worry that you guys think I just don't care or aren't interested but that's not true.

So, I'm just trying to say that if you're not getting what you need from me then I will understand if you want to remove me.

I'll be here, reading and ocasionally posting and commenting. Just like always.

And to the friend that is having some serious problems that I haven't commented on yet, I read and I care and I'm sorry for what you're going through.

Time to roll another fatty.

poor_turtle — Thu, 15 Sep 2005 21:12:55 GMT

Soory, I know I haven't posted or commented but I've been looking for work. This is really fucked up...

I had an interview Monday for a job making $9.50/hour but I wasn't to sure I'd get it because I'm so small. You have to spend the whole day lifting 40lb battery trays and then stand the completed unit up wich weighs about 700 lbs (don't ask how a person is supposed to do that). Well, the supervisor looked at my little 4'10" 100lb self and actually said he wasn't sure if I could do it, so I kept looking. I applied everywhere.

Yesterday "The Maids" called me back and had me come in for an interview and I started the job today. I start out at $7.00/hour and may work 15-40 hours a week. I get home and guess who wants me to come and work for them? The battery tray place with a garaunteed 40 hours a week. I can't stand it.

I don't know what to do. On one hand cleaning peoples houses is gravy work, no drug test, and it might be kind of nice to get home early some days, but the pay sucks.

If I quit "The Maids" and the other job proves to be to difficult then I'm fucked and I'm pretty sure this other place drug tests wich means having to find someone with clean piss. I don't really know very many people with clean piss...

What to do, what to do...?

I guess I need to go roll the fattest joint I've ever seen and think about this some more.

Letters to a stalker

poor_turtle — Wed, 31 Aug 2005 16:15:56 GMT

When I was in jail for 7 months my ward was across the hall from one of the mens wards. People that knew anyone in that ward at one time or another knew that it was where they sent stalkers, child molesters, wife beaters, etc... anyone who would get the shit beat out of them by other inmates in any other ward.

Well, the girls found a way to pass notes to them. They'd write a note and roll it up dagonally to make a tight, skinny, long tube. Then they would connect all the letters together in one super long tube, stick it through a little crack under the door, slide it across the hallway and into the crack of the mens ward door.

After a minute I got bored enough to join them in this silly, childish behavior because like they all told me, what could possibly happen? They were locked up. We were locked up. They couldn't get to us and it helped to kill many long nights.

The man I was writing to was a stalker and wife beater. The men would send us hot chocolate and coffee in the tubes just because talking to women made them feel like men again.

It was all in good fun until the guy started writing things about me being to independent and he would have to fix that as soon as we got out. He wrote something about tying me to a bed in a secluded mountain cabin until I got over my independence. Scary stuff!!!!

Well, I stopped writing to him but he kept sending all these letters saying he was so sorry and he was playing with me and blah blah blah. After awhile boredom kicked in once more so I started writing to him again. His letters became softer and he seemed quite intelligent so when he asked that the next time I was in the hallway going for a visit or church or counseling that I have a friend give a special knock on the wall I figured what the hell.

Well, he got his look at me. He sent a letter, the first letter sent that night, saying that he though from my letters I would be a chubby, ate up, prostitute looking bitch but was shocked to see that I actually looked like an innocent child. He went on and on about my "child-like" angelic beauty. I started to feel invaded and dirty. I started to wonder if he was a child molester.

Next thing I know I'm getting letters from the other guys saying that this dude was dangerous and he was saying really crazy and scary shit about me. Talking about keeping me to himself and no one else would have me.

Later after I had gotten out a friend sent me a letter from prison with a letter from the guy attached. He had found her and said when she got out he was coming to see her and they'd put their heads together and see if she couldn't come up with an idea of where he might find me now that he was out.

Well, my friend is out now, but the guy never found her because she was out almost immediately smoking crack. I don't even know where she is anymore.

Just goes to show, if it seems like a stupid idea, it is!!!!!

I'm camera-phobic

poor_turtle — Wed, 31 Aug 2005 15:22:23 GMT

Someone asked so you asked for it....

They used to thing I was a commie

poor_turtle — Wed, 31 Aug 2005 14:40:00 GMT

Hey, forever_adrift, I agree man, totally!!!!!!!!!!!

Prozac Nation

poor_turtle — Tue, 30 Aug 2005 13:14:39 GMT

When he finally wound down and lost a little energy I reminded him of all the accomplishments that I've made and how I often talk about the fact that him and I are one of a kind and most people with addiction problems don't come out of it like we did, succesfully. I pointed out times, places and conversations where I spoke of how proud I was of myself. The one thing that may take me almost a lifetime to forgive myself of is the kids though and he had to just fucking give that to me or leave.

Then he realized he was wrong. it wasn't at all like he accused me of. I don't sit around and talk about what a horrible, nasty person I am all the time. I work hard for my achievments and I acknowledge them often. I may be terrified to try things I don't feel I'm capable of but that doesn't mean I won't try.

The whole thing started over Lowes. He said I should apply. I told him I was scared I would fuck up because I don't know anything about paint, home remodeling, etc... He got so mad over that, screaming at me that me being so down on myself and refusing to try anything for fear of failure was affecting him in a seriously negative way. We fought all night and all day the next day.

Back to him calming down though, when he finally did I informed him how I had gone to put my application in at Lowes and I had intended to all along. Just because I was scared didn't mean I wasn't going to give it a shot. He looked dumbfounded and said if I'd just told him that at the start we wouldn't have even fought. Oh, well, maybe if I'd been able to get a word in edgewise. maybe if I'd been heard over all the screaming. Maybe if he'd just stop thinking about his own fucking problems constantly and just open his fucking ears and LISTEN to me and hear me. I honestly don't know why I bother talking to him because he doesn't listen and it really hurts. How do you talk to someone who who isn't listening enough to even know when they've been asked a question?

We watched Prozac Nation. It scared me how much she reminded me of myself because I saw just how unstable I really am. on the other hand it kind of showed Mark how hard it is to fight that bitter demon. I've been on Prozac. I've been on Remeron, Paxil, Wellbuterin and about 3 more I can't remember the names of. Some helped, some didn't, but they all made me into a zombie. Now I'm on weed and it seems to suit me just fine.

Mark gets angry at me easily sometimes. He goes into a dry drunk and takes it out on me. I don't dare say a word though because it only makes it worse. Never accuse a recovering alcoholic of being in a dry drunk.

I think he hid the knives. I haven't slashed myself in two years but there are no knives to be found. Does he really think I'd go back to that way? I have to wear long sleeves in 90 degree weather just to hide the scars from my daughter because I see her eyes get teary and she gets quiet everytime they are exposed. She's afraid I'll try again. I'd rather she forget the scars are there. I will never do anything that will risk the only child of mine that I am able to see. I will never leave her. Not by car, train, boat, plane, foot, or death. My life is about her and making sure I am 100% stable and succesful when the others are old enough to come find me, or me find them. This is now what my life is about and if Mark doesn't see that then maybe Mark should be paying a little more attention to his wife.

I think I'll go waste a few cops and ballas.

The last

poor_turtle — Tue, 23 Aug 2005 13:22:24 GMT

According to my husband I shouldn't be sad that my kids were taken away and I couldn't get them back. According to him I should forgive myself and stop hating myself for it. I should get their perfect, beautiful faces out of my mind and not think about the fact they think I abandoned them or didn't want them and how badly they were hurt by this. Guess I should have no regrets. That would make me a unicorn then, wouldn't it.

Apparently I need to talk to someone about all my past mistakes and failures and being sexually molested, my stepfather putting a pillow over my face to kill me, drug addiction, being a prostitute, being a thief, being abused and pimped by my ex, etc... to feel better (but not to him he says) because me being sad is making him miserable. Hmmmmm, anyone want to talk about all of my "issues" so that my husband can feel better?

It's a good thing turtles don't wear clothes because they'd sure look ridiculous in a skirt.

poor_turtle — Sat, 20 Aug 2005 03:39:52 GMT

I'm sorry I haven't been posting much or commenting and stuff. I've been busy looking for a job. The hours I'm insisting on and/or my felony is really holding me down. I thought I had a job at IHOP. The manager was acting really interested and said he'd give me a call yesterday but he never did. Even one of the waitressess said he'd probably hire me. Oh well. Probably a good thing because he seemed very flirtacious. That's the last thing I need. I really don't want to deal with that kind of shit.

When I'm not out looking for a job I'm murdering ballas and stealing guns. San Andreas is very addictive. For being a really non-violent person I sure am getting a kick out of shooting cops in the face.

my Ozzy kitty has been more affectionate than usual lately and my willow-is-a-pretty-girl has seemed really sad. I think she may be needing a little more attention and is still a little bent over Shadow being here for 3 weeks.

I want to slap Mr. Life fucking silly!!!!

poor_turtle — Wed, 17 Aug 2005 15:39:30 GMT

The new job sucks!!! I quit!!!!!

There were only about 4 people on the floor. That tells me
A:They use temps up and then get rid of them
B:It's a really sucky job
C:They don't get much business so there's no room for growth and A (see above)
D:All of the above

Not only were there only about 4 people but they were all women and all white. What the fuck??????????? AND they were telling racist jokes wich I was forced to listen to because there were so few people that I couldn't help but hear.

The bitches made me feel really unwelcome. I kept hearing "psssst, temp this and bzzz bzzz temp that" They actually made me cry. One of the wires in the air dryer I was assembling came out of the crimping (no fault of mine, it was the crimpers fault) and the supervisor came over and said "Oh no". Made it look like I did something wrong and one of the fat bitches came running over just to see the new temp fuck up. I wanted to cut her!!!!

Fuck them fat cunts. They can lick my vulva.

So now here I go, beatin the pavement looking for another job. Sure wish I had a car. I was gonna get one if that job had worked out.

Samuri Warriors are not very sexy!!!!

poor_turtle — Sat, 13 Aug 2005 23:51:11 GMT

I feel really weird today. I woke up looking and feeling strung out. Now I'm a bit tired but yet I feel like COME ON COME ON COME ON LET'S GO LET'S GO LET'S GO. I don't have any idea what that's all about.

This dude comes over last night and we all blazed up. Well, dudes sitting there tokin' away and asks if Ozzy is a stoner kitty. We tell him that if Ozzy wants to get high, he knows how to get high. Never in a million years would I blow smoke in any animals face. So, this dipshit fuckhead says his cat loves to get high and whenever motherfucker blazes up his kitty jumps in a box with a lid (wait, how does he get in there if there's a lid on it???) and buttfuckhead blows smoke at kitty in the box and covers the lid. Man, I don't want to have to go to prison for murdering that asslick moron.

We're gonna sell the bike. Yep, no more motorcyle escapades. I'm kinda glad. I won't really miss it.

I wish I was a cat!!!

Oh, and Mark wants my unpregnany undone in a couple of years.

why why why

poor_turtle — Fri, 12 Aug 2005 18:41:46 GMT

Why do I feel like I'm dying. I almost missed the bus and had to run to catch it. I was afraid I might puke onboard. (Un)fortunately, depending on how you look at it, I didn't.

Mark doesn't want me to work. He's happy that we'll have more money again, but he's not happy about me working. I'll be all the way on the opposite side of town and in the worst area for crack. For those of you who know the area, it's right off Lincolnway West, on Sheriden. What worries him is that if he can't pick me up and I have to wait for the bus that someone will pick me up or I'll run into an old using buddy and get caught back up.

He need not fear. Cocain and heroin took everything away from me. Things and people that I cannot get back. It destroyed my children and my relationship with my family. It took my dignity, my pride, my sense and the part of my life that mattered most. I will never be the same and I can never be truly happy. They took everything and I will not let them take the people and things I've aquired since, including what is left of my sanity.

I think he's also (though he'd never admit it) afraid I'll meet some guy... Man, I wish there was some way to convince that guy that he is my best friend and the only man I have ever been able to genuinly love. Maybe he doesn't see the way I just sit and stare at him sometimes, admiring everything about him. Maybe he doesn't feel me holding his hand in the middle of the night just to be touching him. I could never hurt or betray him. I could never look at another man the way I look at him.

So anyway, man I think I gota go roll a joint for this tummy ache.

poor_turtle — Fri, 12 Aug 2005 14:58:46 GMT

I am so fucking sick. I don't know why.

Went for a job interview yesterday. Got the job. Start Monday.

I held a condom full of piss in my panties for 2 hours yesterday, freaking the whole time that it would break and it would look like I pissed my pants, and they didn't even test me. They may today though, so I have to do it again *rolls eyes* I have to go downtown to people link and get signed back up and on their payroll.

I have to go puke again first though.

Update later.

poor_turtle — Wed, 10 Aug 2005 15:27:40 GMT

The most wonderful thing happened. Emmy finally called last night and I took Shadow home to her.

You know that look in a childs eyes when she looks up into her mommy's eyes with love and admiration? She hasn't looked at me like that for so long. She hasn't had any reason to because I've let her down so many times, but last night my girl looked at me with tears of gratitude in her eyes. I came through for her. I did something for her that no one else would do. I brought him to her immediately. She couldn't believe how fast I got there and how shadow had gained some weight, etc.... i made my daughter happy and I seemed to have restored some confidence and faith in her. I think she realizes she can count on me again, just like before the drugs and jail. She hugged me so tight and called me mommy instead of mom. I think I could probably fly right now.

I need to smoke a fat joint

poor_turtle — Tue, 09 Aug 2005 18:46:47 GMT

Mark won't be home for a little while so maybe I'll just suck down a roach. I need to focus on what it is I'm trying to focus on and I'm not quite sure what that is. I just hear a nagging voice in my head that keeps saying, "Listen. Listen to me dammit. Pay attention, this is important."

What the hell???

poor_turtle — Tue, 09 Aug 2005 15:28:59 GMT

My sleep has been very strange since the evil from the forest warned me and showed me what he would do to the child if I interfered. I have a vague recollection of what my soul does as my body sleeps; I travel and visit, yet in a very detached kind of way. I've yet to go back to the forest. The fear must be much deeper than I realize or the evil must be to strong. I can't seem to make myself go back there though I try so hard to set my destination beforre falling asleep.

An odd thing happened last night though. I had set my destination and fell asleep very suddenly. I saw myself on grass but there was nothing ahead of me. Nothing. Just distance. Like a wall of distance. Suddenly I felt pressure, like a force. It wasn't pushing. It was more like squeezing and suddenly my limbs began shaking and my chest would not expand. It forced me awake so quickly my whole body jolted off the bed and I couldn't breath.

My husband used to ask why my body shakes and jolts when I am falling asleep or waking up. I tried to explain but he is very skeptical. He thinks that our dreams are our subconcious explaining the psychology of our minds and how we feel. While I think that that is a beautiful theory I just can't agree. I know where I go at night. I know what I feel, what I see, where I've been, who I communicate with. The proof is not visible to the physical eye, but it's there. Like I've said, our bodies need rest, but our souls do not. Tell me, what would a restless soul who's physical entity is resting, do? Just wait? No, there is far to much to do and see. Far to much freedom.

Watching Montell always makes me cry

poor_turtle — Mon, 08 Aug 2005 15:59:45 GMT

I've had a really busy/distressing last few days.

First of all, after I got Shadow all exited about going home, took down his terrarium, transfered him to a metal cage he hates, washed the cover to his terrarium and all his toys and snuggle paks, Emmy never called. Never called all weekend. Still hasn't. I don't know what's going on and I'm worried. Shadow wouldn't eat for 2 days. He wouldn't even play. Usually he's noisy all night and eats all his food. he wouldn't eat anything and I feel responsible because I had gotten him exited about Emmy.

*note* For anyone who doubts that animals can understand what we say to them, well, you're full of shit!!!!!!!!

Last night I gave up hope of Emmy calling until next weekend and put his big terrarium back together and put him back in it. It makes him a little happier. He ate about half his food and even squeeked for attention in the middle of the night. Man, I thought he was going to die. I am so sad for his poor broken heart. I just can't handle seeing animals or children in pain, emotional or physical. It truly makes me want to die.

Yesterday I got to contribute a little since I still don't have a job. I went with Mark to help him with a painting job. I kinda liked it and we're planning on starting our own business here when we get a little money put together.

I woke up at about 5 am puking and my stomachs been hurting all day. My head hurts and for some reason I just can't stop crying. I don't even know WHY I'm crying. It just start suddenly and I can't make it stop. I'm not even sure I know how I feel at all about anything. I feel so numb and there's no reason for it. No explanation.

supercalifragilisticexpiolidocious

poor_turtle — Sat, 06 Aug 2005 13:32:21 GMT

I haven't said it for a while, so I'll say it again:

I love mischief!!!!

poor_turtle — Fri, 05 Aug 2005 22:02:03 GMT

Why am I such a brat??????

Mark came home to pay the rent and bring me a case of coke but he had to go back and finish a job. I'm a brat because I wan't to burn a bud but he's not here. He said to go ahead, He even said, "Burn baby, burn" wich made me laugh at the time but I'm still feeling shitty. I wish I wasn't such a little shit sometimes.

I'm not mad at him, just feeling disapointed. Guess I'm feeling disapointed about a lot of things and not being able to find a job has my self esteem and self worth a record low.

I get in these funks too, where everything just seems so grey. The world, people, places, just glum. Glum like Elkhart. Sad like the things that happen there.

Okay, I'm getting off the pitty pot. Guess I should go roll a fatty so when Mark comes home we can toke together. Hey enjoy a toke. Blah

Deadant, deadant, deadant deadant deadantdeadant deadant..........

poor_turtle — Fri, 05 Aug 2005 20:01:05 GMT

I asked Jeeves why ants carry around their fellow dead and he said for food. Ick!!! I was really sad because I thought that it had something to do with mourning, but to find this out.... ugh

Going home

poor_turtle — Fri, 05 Aug 2005 15:20:55 GMT

My daughter Emmy is coming home today and Shadow will be going home.

I guess I didn't tell you guys, but Emmy's dad and step mom went on vacation in China and so she had to go stay with her grandmother (fuckers could have let her stay with me. I'm so sick of this shit). Well, her grandmother must be a real bitch or something because she wouldn't let her bring her sugarglider Shadow with her. She had asked some lady she knows who breeds sugargliders to keep him for 3 weeks and she said she would, but backed out at the last second with the lame excuse that if Shadow died while under her care that Emmy might bash her and ruin her business. Fucking bitch!!!!! My daughter is far better than that, and would never bash her for that reason because she knows how depressed sugargliders get away from their owners.

So, anyway, she asked me to do it and of course I want as many oppurtunities to come through for my girl as possible. I have a lot of making up to do, so without hesitation I said yes. I was more than happy to do it.

Well, she's supposed to come home today and I've got mixed feelings. See, gliders are very social animals with their owners. Emmy stays up all night and lets him out of his cage to cuddle, play and socialize the entire time. Well, I'm not 16 anymore so I can't stay up all night. Shadow was very hesitant to come to me and when he would he would jump on the top of his cage and stay there looking around. I'd reach out with a treat and he'd come to me, he nuzzled me a few times, and if I woke up in the middle of the night and touched his cage and talk softly to him he'd come right over and stand over my hand. It broke my heart how much he wanted to have hands on attention, yet was so sad missing Emmy that he just couldn't let go and get really comfortable.

I've gotten really attached to him and although I'm thrilled that Shadow and Emmy will finally be reunited, I'm really going to miss him.

As I was taking one of his cages apart to clean and prepare for the trip home I sang him a little song

Shadows going home
Shadows going home
He's going home to Emmy
Emmy is his MOMMMMMMMMYYYYYYYYYYY

He stopped what he was doing and got real still. He knows Emmy's name. I got choked up and started to cry. partly out of pure joy that his little dear heart will no longer be broken and partly because I'm gonna miss the little guy.

poor_turtle — Thu, 04 Aug 2005 19:43:09 GMT

I just took my second shower for the day. I wish I knew why I felt so icky all the time.

poor_turtle — Wed, 03 Aug 2005 16:01:43 GMT

Sometimes I wish I could leave myself alone!!

poor_turtle — Wed, 03 Aug 2005 14:16:18 GMT

I wish I could find my latest fucking issue of Juxtapoz!!!!!!!!

poor_turtle — Wed, 03 Aug 2005 14:09:15 GMT

Whatever the evil in the abandoned house is, he put a body under my bed. He doesn't want me to interfere and I'm seriously freaking out. There has been strange noises coming from the closed bedroom door and it makes my cat very nervous. He keeps scurrying around the living room looking towards the hallway and ducking his head.

He's also called me on the phone and said that he can see me through the slats in the blinds and if I try to make a run for it he'll know. I'm not quite sure what to do. He distracted me last night with an imposter of my husband so I never made it there. It makes me very afraid to know what's going to happen tonight.

poor_turtle — Tue, 02 Aug 2005 16:42:43 GMT

I'm looking at 2 pigs (stuffed of course) and for some reason they are really freaking me out!!!!

So, when my soul leaves my sleeping body at night it usually wanders to a field. In front of me, slightly to the right is a pond. About 50 yards and to the left there are woods. In those woods I have found a family living in a makeshift shack. They're hiding there. I think the husband has murdered someone, but the children are very scared and the baby seems sick. The boy leads me to a house in a clearing and we have to go in through a broken window. Oddly enough I cut my cheek once while going through the window on the broken glass. This seems familiar to me because when I was a child I remember having a scar on that same cheek. The scar wasn't severe, and faded in time, but I find that there is a link there somewhere that I cannot remember.

In this broken down, dirty, ramshackeled wooden house there is a boarded up hole in the wall wich leads to a room above the second floor, like an attic. There is just enough room through the slats in the wood for me and the boy to squeeze through.

I don't like going there because there is something very evil in that dark, musty room. Even in my sleep I can feel the fear in my physical body. It starts in my chest and rapidly radiates to my arms and legs and my soul wants to go no further.

I don't like this place, but I'm drawn there to protect the boy. I have no idea what the evil is in the room nor do I know why the boy goes there.