Marie and I were talking about how we still get angry at times when we think of those who have abused us in the past. Actually, I don’t “think” of them. They seem to randomly force their way into my mind when I least expect them to, and then I’m seething with the kind of rage that would undoubtedly end up sending me to prison for life if they suddenly appeared in the flesh before my eyes. That’s because the tables have turned with the hands of time and I’m now the one who could hurt them. Then again, I probably have enough anger alone to give me whatever strength it would take to break them in half. And I wouldn’t hesitate! Normally I can think ahead to the possible consequences my actions may bring, but not in their case if they suddenly materialized. I never want to see them again, but at the same time, I wish to hell they would show up here, though I know they never would even if they knew where I was. They wouldn’t have the balls to after screwing me over the way they did.

I remind myself that they can never hurt me again – not legally, not personally – and that helps. I don’t ever have to see my brother or uncle ever again who have caused my family a lot of grief over the years. And I never have to see anyone else in the family either. With my folks close to the end, it’s unlikely I’ll ever even see them again, but I’m ok with that and with keeping in touch by phone and mail for whatever time they have left, and I’m sure they agree.

For the longest time I worried about not being able to control myself should someone start shit with me at my folks’ funerals and that I may end up beating the shit out of them. But I already decided a long time ago (and I told my folks this) that it would be in everyone’s best interest that I do not attend their funerals. I can mourn their death from right here anyway, and all I’d be doing if I went back east would be getting in the way, putting myself in jail, and a few others in the hospital. My brother and uncle are getting up there in years now, and chances are they still smoke and aren’t nearly as fit as I am. They’d be too easy to hurt.

And then there’s my sister who later admitted that yes, she wanted me jailed for defending her and telling her abusive ex just what I’d like to do to him for abusing her and Lisa. She threatened me in a letter and phone call to Tom for sticking up for her, and she and the ex ultimately got me in jail for half a year, even if it didn’t have anything to do with her directly in the end. And then there are the thousands of dollars we lost on account of it all, so how the hell could I just stand there, smile, be polite, be “courteous” and not want to strangle her, too? A couple of rude messages from her kids are nothing compared to the hell she helped sic upon my husband and I.

I know my sister’s EXACT address. I could’ve faxed her local police department or sent the link to the site she threatened me on the same as she managed to do when she found out my whereabouts when we left Phoenix so she could send them to our door in Maricopa. But I chose not to be so childishly vindictive.

Same with the welfare bums in Phoenix. I could’ve called the cops when they were tossing sexual notes in our mail slot – a serious federal offense – and when they prank-called us, but I knew I could just ignore it and that no one could make me read or listen to anything I didn’t want to. I didn’t feel the need to spite them and to “get” them. Instead, I felt I had more important things to accomplish in life. And so I was the big one who turned the other cheek and moved on.

But put all these people in this room with me and the only “big one” would be the ones to survive my wrath. I would want them to survive too, so they could have to live with the memories of what I’d done to them.

I also used to worry for the longest time that if my parents left anything to Tom and I once they were gone, Tammy, being the executor of the will, would see to it that she kept our share and probably Larry’s as well. I don’t think my folks realize just how much she can’t be trusted. Of course she’s going to promise them she’ll carry out whatever their wishes may be, but I also know her better than my folks do. They don’t see her for the evil, selfish, vindictive, crazy bitch she can be, and maybe they don’t want to. What parent wants to see their kids that way?

It could be that my parents will die so broke that any money that may come from the sale of their home/cars has to pay off their debts, but I doubt it. I think my sister and her brood will get it all. The condo, the cars, the store, the personal items – everything.

But if that’s what’s meant to be, so be it. Ain’t nothing I can do about it. But by then we’ll either be dead or making what we need or more than what we need anyway.

I know, I know. I’m rambling on again about shit I’ve already been through. So why rehash it? I guess I just have to every now and then. I guess it just feels good to do this periodically because it’s good therapy for me. These aren’t things one ever forgets or gets over. You don’t help trash someone’s life and expect them to just forgive, forget and move on. It just doesn’t work that way.

Marie was telling me of how she uses drugs to help cope with her anger (the prescription kind that’s perfectly legal, of course), and while I don’t condemn her for coping in whatever way she sees fit, I couldn’t do that myself. Even if I had insurance which I still don’t expect to have for years, to me that’s like turning to alcohol or illegal drugs. No pill can make the problem go away, so I figure it’d be best to learn to cope on my own without the side effects, costs and addictions that can come with relying on medication. I’ve been there before and for me personally, life has been much, much better since I quit the pill-popping. If anything I’m calmer overall and much perkier. Again, though, to each their own. We all gotta do whatever works best for us, just like Mary turned to God as a coping mechanism.

Mary. Haven’t heard from her since Christmas and I’m beginning to wonder if I ever will.

Anyway, to sum it all up, when I worry about hurting Larry, Tammy or Ronnie, I remind myself that I don’t ever have to see those people again in the first place – and I know I won’t – and so there’s nothing to worry about, not that I’d feel guilty for kicking the crap out of them. Just worried about my own ass going to jail.

These people could get caught in a fire or a car wreck, and I wouldn’t feel any different than if it were some stranger in Wyoming.

And I’ve quit worrying about everything going to Tammy and the brood, too. I just hope that when she’s living high off the hog and if we’re still struggling like we were lazy bums who just don’t give a damn God will be a little bit nicer to us in the next life – if there is one – and compensate us for the unfairness we’ve endured in this life.

Paula sent a message saying she was lonely, and could I hook her up with a guy in the Springfield area? No, I told her, but she can try the Yahoo! personals or something like that herself.

My buddies at the incense/perfume site didn’t have CocoMusk or Hot Buttered Popcorn in roll-on options, but Elliot said they would be added. I want to get those when I make my next order.

Starting in July I should be able to put about $100 a month towards savings and still have $20 - $30 to play around with. Meanwhile, I’ve resigned myself to the fact that it’s going to be years before Tom’s working again.