I’ll start some writing while I wait for my TV dinner to cool. Can’t talk to him, cuz he’ll just deny what I have to say or turn it all around on me, so I’ll talk here.

I awoke with a dismal, depressed, hopeless feeling, but what else is new? I didn’t expect to bounce back in a day and when I do bounce back, things are gonna be very different. God wouldn’t have let us have a kid, anyway, so why put myself through all the problems that go with sex? We’ll just be on our own sexually, cuz I’ve reached my fill and snapped. I can’t take his games and teasing and lies pertaining to sex anymore, then be further humiliated while he sits there and denies it. I’m not gonna give Tom and God the satisfaction of hurting me anymore. They’ve hurt me enough. Between Tom’s games and lies, and God hexing my sex life in one way or another all my life, then denying me a child, I just cannot take it anymore.

Later...

OK, I just ate a little, but due to being so upset, I don’t have much of an appetite.

I couldn’t believe some of the things Tom said last night to pin the blame on me. He said that he was virtually certain we’d never have a kid cuz I won’t let it happen. Then he said he couldn’t believe some of the things I said to him and said they weren’t true. We’re never gonna have a kid cuz of God. And if it weren’t for God, who knows then? With the way this guy’s always got a problem and is so obsessed with playing games, you just never know what would’ve happened if God weren’t in our way. I think that if I had gotten pregnant, it’d take years with the way he is and with how little he cums.

I’m sorry, but I didn’t deliberately do anything to botch up last night. And if I did, I’d say so to both him and this journal. I did all I could. It was he who was too soft and who just couldn’t get into it, it was he who wasn’t lined up right, it was he who had to play this game and break his word to me without a care in the world for my feelings and emotions. He just had to do this and he had this whole thing mapped out from the get-go.

If he knew he could cum three days in a row and if he knew he wanted to cum three days in a row, why didn’t he just do it? Why’d he have to promise to do it? Cuz he knew he couldn’t and wouldn’t and that he wanted to play with my head. That’s why.

I just want to retreat into my own little world where no one can hurt me any more than they already have. I just want to be left alone with myself and my mind. In my mind, I can imagine and fantasize about a full-time normal sex life and a child. I may wish that I could have these things in real life, but that isn’t real life. It’s simply a dream and dreams are just dreams. Well, I’ll go to Never Never Land and stay there, cuz reality sucks and reality will never change.

This morning he had the nerve to try to hug me. I told him I needed time. Then a few minutes later, before going to bed, he told me he was sorry for getting mad at me for wishing I’d done things differently and that he should accept me for how I am, cuz he loves me and I’m who he married. At first I thought that was nice of him. Then it hit me. I didn’t tell him this, but the only reason he said that to me was cuz he obviously hoped I’d say to myself - I should accept him for how he is, cuz I love him and married him. So instead of wishing he’d change, have sex with me more often, cum more often and keep his promises, I’ll just forget it and accept him as he is.

Well, the bottom line is this, I’m done trying to fight God and having God punish me for it. And I’m done being hurt, teased, played with and pissed off by Tom. I can’t do things to stop God from denying me a child, but I can do things to stop Tom from doing his shit to me.

He said in a few days we’d sort out our very existence together (nothing to do with sex or his wanting me to leave, though), but there’s nothing to sort out. I’ll always love him and be with him, but I’m not gonna allow this relationship to be fucked up by problems with sex.

Like I said, I don’t want to can sex. I don’t want to not have a child. However, I don’t have a choice and I must do the right and best thing. We can never have a child, says God. We can never have a happy, normal, full-time sex life, says God and Tom. God and Tom will not hurt me anymore, says me.

Tom says he thinks that I either consciously or subconsciously botched up yesterday’s fucked up sex, but that that had nothing to do with the promise in which he’s at fault and responsible for breaking. Well, I knew he’d be at fault and responsible for breaking the promise, but why would I either consciously or subconsciously botch up something that I wanted to work? I wanted nothing more than to look Tom in the eye and say, “I’m sorry. I was wrong and you were right. You did keep your promise.”

I just wish I knew what was motivating him all this time. Does he really not want the kid that bad? Is it something he doesn’t like about me? What is it?

I still believe, too, that God has a part in his ways when it comes to sex. Even if he really didn’t mean to break his promise and even if he did try his best, God had to punish me for going against him. He does not want us to have a normal, happy, full-time sex life. He does not want us to have a child. Once again, if he hasn’t sterilized me, which I know he has, why can’t he at least have let me have a normal, happy, full-time sex life? Why does he have to add insult to injury? It’s like a bonus punishment, on top of an already huge punishment, which is not allowing me a child, no matter what I did.

Then Tom said that this probably happened (after saying it was his fault in another breath), cuz of my negative attitude and my presumption that this would happen. If things always happen the way we assume and expect them to, then how come I got married? How come I saw Larry in 1993? How come I got an ear canal? How come I’m in Arizona? How come I live in a house? How come I’m not on disability? How come I’m addicted to computers? How come I got over never being a singer or with a woman?

Like I told Tom, my days of fighting for sex and getting pregnant are over. Then he said that that’s what he always told me should be the case. Meaning, that sex and a kid aren’t something you’re supposed to fight for. If a couple isn’t meant to have a normal sex life or a child, that can’t be changed and vice versa. Some may be able to fight fate to a degree and weasel a child or two off of God with fertility specialists, but they and their kids are gonna have to pay dearly for it, if that’s what they want and if it’s worth it to them.

It’s a family curse, and I still think God hates Jews. He has to, or else there wouldn’t have been a Holocaust, etc. If I had been from a non-Jewish family and if I hadn’t been from New England, or couldn’t do well with music and art, then maybe things would’ve been different. God definitely has some hang-up with miscarriages, kids dying and hexed sex lives in my family. My mother had a miscarriage, Sandy and Larry lost two kids, even if one hadn’t been born yet (Sandy was 8 months pregnant and lost the baby, Sarah Ann, in a car accident). Then you got two sisters with hexed sex lives and I wouldn’t be surprised if there are more people in the family with sexual problems and/or abnormalities.

From what Tammy’s told me, she’s either never been able to cum, or she does very rarely. Bill can’t rise since coming down with Lymphoma. In my case, it took Ron three months to get in there, I couldn’t get Al in there, I couldn’t get the right woman, Tom wouldn’t cum, and now this. Making sure Tom would make sure he plays his games, teases and gives me sex part-time, and making sure no kid comes out of it. I see a pattern here. One that spells many words such as curse, sign, meant to be this way, meant to be childless, not meant to be normal, punishment, unchangeable, etc.

It was really stupid and rather naïve of me to think that maybe I was able to conceive after my last visit with Dr. Rugg. Just cuz I have all the parts and get regular periods, even though they’re light, doesn’t mean shit. I didn’t get pregnant when I was in my early 20s. I didn’t get pregnant the times Tom came (and he sometimes did so in the right time frame), so this tells me I am sterile for sure.

I get a kick out of how Mary said that maybe God’s got some child out there who needs me. Ha! What child? Is God planning on offing David and Evie and having their kids come here? I don’t think so! And if he did off them, they wouldn’t be coming here.

Let’s just put it this way, punishment or not, I couldn’t handle a kid, anyway, and I wouldn’t want Tom running around breaking promises he made to the kid. So together, God and I shall punish me and deny me a child and I’ll go along with and aid his decision to leave me childless and I will suffer the loss of this child he’s denied me and just dream about it. After all, it was only a baby I’ve been denied, right? Still, I’ll do right by God, quit trying to fight him, live with and accept fate, no matter how much it hurts and maybe he’ll start to bless us in other ways. If I’m this awful person that God thinks doesn’t deserve a child, maybe he’ll reward me for going along with this attitude and decision. I don’t have a choice, anyway. He wants me punished, so OK, I’ll punish me, too. I won’t have any sex and I certainly won’t have a kid. I’ll keep getting fatter and I’ll just be a nothing and a nobody, and I hope he kills me soon enough, so I can move on. There’s no moving on here in this world.

Continuing to add insult to injury, God’s gonna make sure they can’t read my PAP since he just has to put a price on any sex I do have. And for my so-called dirty, wrong dream of having a child that I used to fight him on. He knew I was planning on having sex and trying my hopeless fight against him yesterday, so he made sure I bled as easy as I have been since I got married.

First of all, this lady did not look like a physician’s assistant. She was young and kind of reminded me of a young Debbie Gibson. Not that she really looked like her, but she looked like a senior in high school. She had a beautiful figure, straight blond hair just past her shoulders and seemed friendly enough. She didn’t talk or joke as much as Gloria did. That’s Dr. Rugg’s first name.

The nurse weighed me at 111, then she came in to do the exam, which was the least uncomfortable ever. She asked me if I was on birth control, if I was sexually active, and if I was trying to get pregnant. I hesitated for a moment there, cuz I wanted to be careful with what I said, so I quickly said, “Yeah, soon.” 

Then she grinned for a second there, but not at me, cuz she had her head turned to the side while she was writing.

Then she asked me if I’d ever had a sexually transmitted disease, not that she thought I did. Then she said she was curious as to why I bled so easily and said I did have a discharge. I said that I thought it was common for DES daughters to have a discharge and that some women do bleed easily. She said that was true and that’s when she learned I was a DES daughter (I thought she already knew).

She said she thought everything would be OK, but that she’d call if there was a problem. I didn’t tell her this, but she can call all she wants and I don’t care if there’s a problem, cuz I’m not going back.

Lastly, Andy didn’t need his pants hemmed. They didn’t have his size, so his boss said to take a pair in to be altered and that they’d reimburse him. Great! I hate to sew.

Later...

Congratulations. I hope I’m happy now, is what I’m telling myself. What I just did is sorry proof that I’m so used to sexual bullshit, being controlled, failing, and being slapped back into place by God, that I expect it and I really do ask for it. I should’ve known better a long long time ago, but what do I do? I continue these hopeless, losing fights against God and fate. I don’t know how much Tom hurts over this or if he really meant it when he said he didn’t like to see me suffer, but I left Tom a note saying: Still feel sorry about yesterday? I know I do. So since we said we’ll love each other forever and don’t like to see each other hurt or suffering, why don’t you wake up, eat, digest, keep your promise for today and tomorrow, cum, put the baby in the oven, together we’ll fight God and win, and I’ll be patient, calm, still, and try not to pull your dick off.

It’s like - who the fuck am I kidding? Do I have this disease of the brain or something? Why do I keep setting myself up to fail and fall? Why do I keep asking to get hurt and thrown up against walls? Does my deep subconscious like to try for things that are impossible and that’ll get me nothing but feelings of failure, hurt, anger, sadness and hopelessness? What’s wrong with me? Why did I leave that note? Of course, I expect that he’s gonna say no. But still, why do I dig my own holes and throw my own dirt over myself?

Another thing I forgot to mention is that you have no idea just how mad I am at God, too. He just had to let this happen. He just had to interfere. He couldn’t have just said, “Aw, just let them do what they planned to do. It means so much to them. Especially to the wife. I mean, if I’m gonna be so low as to punish them by denying them a child, I can at least let them have fun,” 

But no. He just had to add insult to injury and help mess it up for us.

Also, last night, not only did I want to beat the shit out of Tom like never before, I wanted to cut myself like you wouldn’t believe, but it was Tom’s talking to me and my parents’ visit that stopped me. Talk about a strange turn of the tables, huh? Most of the times I cut myself, it was cuz of them or stuff they allowed others to do to me. Yet this time, it was cuz of them and their upcoming visit that stopped me.

Later...

Now this is weird. Two houses away from the one that’s directly across the street from us has been for sale. Tom said it’s been for sale by owner on and off. Well, I was just in the back room, when I heard bass and went to see if it was next door. There’s no one next door, but I could’ve sworn I saw Mike pull up his Jeep at that house. I caught a quick glimpse of the guy that got out of the Jeep and it looked like it could’ve been him. What? Did he buy that house to be close to next door? God, I hope not! Anything’s better than him pulling his bass up to the bedroom window and so close to the house, but must I listen to him pass by the garage every day? I want him out of the area completely, so I hope to hell he hasn’t bought that place. I mean, really!

Later...

Uh-oh. I know we sometimes get no mail, but I sure hope the fact that we have no mail today has nothing to do with a little complaint that was made. If so then, why now? I’d think that he got the complaint yesterday or the day before. If this guy starts fucking with our mail, then he’s gotta really not give a damn about his job or getting fired.

The Jeep is still there, but if he did move in there, that Jeep sure looks better across the street and two houses away than right next door at only 3 feet away.

Later...

Tom’s still asleep and the Jeep’s still there. Meanwhile, I did a couple of loads of laundry.

I can’t wait till he gets up, cuz I’m so curious to see his reaction to the note I left in the bathroom. My guess is that he’ll go along with it, after all. This way he can tease me some more, but there’s no way he could cum both today and tomorrow. In fact, I’m sure it’ll be the same scenario. He can’t get in there. Well, he could, but he won’t. And if he does let himself in there, he won’t cum. Not a chance. He doesn’t get over things too quickly (aside from his games). He gets over things quicker than he used to, but still, he may not even want to bother tonight. He may feel the closeness/sex isn’t worth the tease.

I can’t believe I haven’t seen that trailer across the street, not that I’m complaining. This is the longest time, though, that’s passed without it being there.

I just thought of something unfortunate. If that is Mike living over at that house, he may play his music even louder. As loud as that fucking Pinto, just to piss me off. And maybe to piss her off, too, next door. And if he cranks it up while he’s pulling weeds or something, it could still be heard in here just fine. At least there’s no basketball hoop over there and also, I think he’d hire someone to do his yard work.

The bright side of it is that Jeep would be so much easier to egg over there and not be suspected here. He’d think that one of his new neighbors did it, or just somebody at random, but I don’t see how he’d suspect me, then egg our house or something for it.