I'm done. I feel bad for my kids, my husband. If I am with my husband, the dynamics of dealing with his children will kill the most precious thing, the innocense of my children. If I am not with him, we will both whither and die in the most important ways.
I'm lost. My husband is lost. We have realized that it is not workable to have princess and the pee in the same home as me and my sons.
My guts feel like a wide open scream, it hurts so much.
Those ass holes. How dare his son call his father a bitch, tell him that he's only good to him for money, that he's not going to even ask for money, he's just going to take it. I have jewlery at home, my sons have big piggy banks (trust me, all going away now). I went downstairs to find a set of headphones for my ipod, I wanted to listen to music while doing this blog (Laday GaGa). ALL HEADPHONES GONE. Even the ones in the new package because I had held onto my dearly loved ipod for over six years and finally, when it could hold not charge at all, caved and bought a new one (but I still have my first one, I'll always hold onto it).
My husband offered to put his son out. If you knew my husband, you'd understand what a fundamentally wrong and desperate thing it was for him to offer that. No, that's not the answer. I don't want that, and neither does he.
We are both being driven insane by these awful people.
I sent my ever lovin' step son quite a series of text messges. God forbid people actually talk when they're only yards away from one another. Let's keep it to fucking texting, that way we don't really have to deal with one another. We get to stay within our own convoluted misperceived cesspools of shit.
He, ah, flat out said to my husband that my sons and I are retarded, that my husband has abandoned him and princess for his new 'fairy tale famiy.' As Thelma said to Louise, "I'm awake. I'm really awake." Oh, what a price there is to pay for that. Thelma and Louise died, you see?
My husband is the most steadfast man on the planet. With a fever, after a full day of taking care of kids, at 9:00 pee wants to go to a friend's house an hour away. My husband, pale as a ghost, said no, and within 15 minutes had negiotiated within himeself that it was up to him to ensure a good weekend for pee. Pee generously said he would 'think about it' and then used that against my husband, actually telling my husband that he was being held prisoner in his room by my husband.
pee, you see, is surrounded by retards out here in the sticks. Now, I don't know how the school districts out here are pulling a massive and sophisticated number on the state with falsifying test scores that would seemingly indicate that students out here in the stix are on par with the sophisticated city folk that pee originates from, but goddamn, there is apparently one hell of a fucking conspiracy going on that pee has unique insight into. He has identified us all as 'tards. I'm a doctor, but apparently I'm a fucking 'tard, too. Well, I am dealing with his bullshit, guess may I am.
Oh, ladies, I stepped over the line, jumped off the cliff. I called both of those little shits out. pee had the nerve to call his father a bitch, tell him to shut up, tell him to fuck off, fuck you, we never do anything for him, the wrestling team out here is lame, I'm lame, my husband is lame, my kids are lame. That theiving little shit made sure that he was not here for a birthday party thrown for him today. Can I possibly express how desperately I want headphones to listen to my ipod right now? Like close to tears needing that so much. All headphones in the house are gone. I had the bad judgment to text pee and say to him that since he had told his father that he would, from now on, be taking money from the house, that I would just like to know straight up if he had taken the headphones and converted them to cash for himself so that I, as a retard, would not have to waste time continuing to look for them, or if my retarded kids had misplaced them, and that I, as a retarded mother should continue to search for them. Ladies, I threw down the gauntlett. And believe me, there's going to be hell to pay.
I didn't stop there. I texted princess, and I let her know that the current basement siutation is done. pee has gone down twice and put it to her idea of right, and each time I hear him I go down and set to my idea of right. There is one feral cat, and he can fucking live in her room, now that my kids have been tried and convicted of killing Buddy. Buddy's buried, there are two other nice cats (pee really is brainwashed, as one of those cats he rescused as suckling kitten, near to death, she has slep with him every night til now, this was a gateway for Smokey to rejoin him, that fucking asshole, but he'd rather sacrafice Smokey to princess's goddamn fucking shrine of death).
I sobbed and sobbed, because I cannot and will not sacrafice my boy's innocense to their poison. My husband sobbed because he feels like a failure with his children and has never had an outside perspective.
No matter how deep I dig, I cannot summon it up within me have grace.
They have been told numerous times pleas so not leave the windows open downstairs, that whole third of MY FUCKING HOUSE is theirs, and I had the balls to go into the basement tonight.
The windows were open.
The heating bill was 572.00 last month.
I wrote a note and posted it. The note said, 'The fee for open window is $15.00 per day. Please pay in advance. Thank you, The Fairy Tail Family."
Oh, shit,
I've really done it. Gig's up, let's do it.