I type faster than a bullet yet I don’t know if my fingers can keep up with my brain as there are so many thoughts and emotions running through me right now. I will try to put to print all the details I can, but will only share this entry with the few people I’m closest to, though I may publish some of it. There’s a lot of sadness and anger in this entry and it’s anything but positive, so I’ll understand if anyone doesn’t want to read it or may just want to skim it. It could be a long one either way. It’s been a frustrating day turned emotional.

I can tell you right now, though, that I’m a firm believer in what an old therapist once told me and that’s that there is no right or wrong emotion. So I’m not about to feel guilty or ashamed for the ill feelings I have towards my mother and some others. I have always believed that if one can respect oneself enough to walk away from abusive people who aren’t related to them, one can and should do the same with abusive people who are related to them. Just because she gave birth to me doesn’t make her abuse ok. It is no ticket to tolerance as far as I’m concerned. I am not obligated to stick around and pretend I care or that I have any respect or love for the woman because I don’t. Sometimes I wish bad things upon her, but I am mostly numb with indifference. I sure wasn’t today, though. Despite all the shit my mother has put me through I’ve never wanted to harm her in any way. I mean physically. Today, however, after I got off the phone with Tammy I knew that if I suddenly appeared before her in the nursing home she’s in I’d have throttled the bitch from 80% demented to a perfect 100%.

My rage isn’t just about what she and others have done to me, it’s about them getting away with it time and time again.

“She’ll never do a day in jail for what she did to us!” I raged at Tom. “She’ll never know a day of poverty. I was vindicated in the end, but still, the black welfare bums and their pig pal will never pay for setting me up.”

“The welfare bums are still welfare bums,” Tom tried to assure me.

“But she works for the city! You know she started doing that right before she moved. City workers make big bucks.”

“Not anymore. If you still have your job with the city it’s because you accepted huge pay cuts.”

Maybe so, but none of this is good enough. God has always ALWAYS protected my perps. I don’t think, but I KNOW that if I were murdered He would not only protect my killer from the law, but He would probably also go so far as to make sure they had a pretty decent life, too. Knowing this is pretty damn scary because that’s something that takes a lot of hate. A LOT of hate. On the other hand, Tom would take care of them if he knew where they were. Still, people get compensated in court all the time for the dumbest of things, but it looks like I’m not going to get shit in the way of compensation from my abusers, thanks to their stupidity. Many think that seeking compensation be it legal or not is wrong. They also think that revenge is revenge even if it’s done through the courts by having a perp charged, convicted and sentenced.

But if people aren’t made to pay for their actions, isn’t that like saying it’s ok? The bitch is never going to pay in jail time or any other way for abusing us. Therefore, a little money would’ve helped. It wouldn’t have changed or undone the past, but it would’ve helped. I don’t expect those who haven’t been abused to get this, but regardless, it’s how I feel. Something up there felt I didn’t deserve to be born to a loving mother, so the least it could’ve done was let us have a few grand to help jump-start renovations on our new home which isn’t going to be very “new.” People say she’ll pay in the afterlife, but we can’t know that. That could be pure wishful thinking for all we know.

I’ve learned that the bad guys aren’t always the bad guys and the smart guys aren’t always the smart guys. I’ve been old enough long enough to know my parents weren’t these strong, perfect people we often see them to be as kids. I know they have their weaknesses. I know they’ve made mistakes. But it seems I didn’t quite realize the extent of it till now. Or maybe I had some idea but I just didn’t get it. I’m not good with numbers. I have always been as bad with numbers as I am good with writing and learning languages.

One day I realized I had achieved fluency, though not perfect fluency, in Spanish. I now knew three languages. But that wasn’t enough. Three languages just weren’t enough. So I kept studying languages and writing stories but I never bothered with going beyond basic math abilities and even my “basics” are shaky. Nane explained her job to me and I didn’t get it. I just didn’t get it. I told Tom what she said and he explained it to me. I still didn’t get it. For all I know a presentation is me presenting what’s left of my doll collection for one to see. A performance is something I see on YouTube. Funds are something my twisted country gives too much of to other countries because it refuses to take care of its own. That’s all I know.

Tom always said not to defend, excuse or play down the situation, but my parents’ money is theirs to do as they please with, and that we should appreciate the help they gave us when we needed it in 2007 and see consider anything else as just an appreciated bonus.

If they hadn’t been such shitty parents, then maybe I could see it that way, but it’s not that easy.

So many people believe there’s a good God out there, but I have believed – no, I’ve known – that there is something up there that has hated me for the most part. It hasn’t shortchanged me when it came to true love and good friends, but it’s had it in for me in almost every other way imaginable.

Before we left Oregon we had two huge letdowns from two different potential moneymaking sources. I won’t get into what they were, but that’s when reality hit me. It was winter of 2007 and that’s when I realized that “God” or whatever’s up there would see to it that we never had much money and may even fight to keep us struggling most of our lives.

Then his pitiful excuse of a mother disowned us for daring to ask for help after we helped her and lost thousands of dollars to her that she promised to repay but never did. When I thought of those two lost opportunities and then realized that we wouldn’t get an inheritance from either of our parents (although at the time I thought we wouldn’t get anything from my folks because we weren’t talking), this was when I lost any last doubts that something was out to curse us financially just as much as it had with neighbors and other things.

Sure enough, half a year later we moved down to Cali to better our lives in a place we thought had more opportunity. Then the economy collapsed. I don’t have to be a financial genius to know it will never get better. It’s too far gone to ever make much of a comeback. It must be torn down and rebuilt from scratch to be “repaired,” but this is never going to happen because people are just too stupid to know any better. Or to at least do what needs to be done instead of just talking about it.

I’ve been back in touch with my parents since 2007 after a 10-year quiet spell brought on by shit they pulled that I won’t bother to get into. Andy is the only one I regret dumping, but I’m getting off-topic. Well, I never would’ve been back in touch with them if it weren’t for our moment of desperation back when we were in motels. We’d spent 36 hours on the streets and then pawned and sold some stuff to get a room for the night. Tom was in a real Catch-22. He couldn’t go to work because he had to spend time selling things. So we were losing money while trying to make it. We lived like real bums as if we were lazy, drug-dependent people who didn’t give a shit. I hated God above with a passion and I still do. We were genuine bums while some others lived high off the hog simply for breathing. It isn’t those who work hard and gets what they deserve I have a problem with, as I said in a previous entry, it’s those who work hard that DON’T get what they deserve that really pisses the shit out of me. But the point is that that’s the only reason I reached out to them at the time. Hell, I’d have reached out to Jeffrey Dahmer had he been our only option! At the time I thought they were still doing ok since they overnighted $450 to us, plus paid for a couple of nights at the hotel. Even so, a sudden thought hit me later on down the road – that God would make sure to screw me out of my inheritance some other way.

Through online research and other things, we’ve come to suspect that their money dwindled the older they got. For one, mom was always a high spender. It was always more important to her that her fucking mutts had bows in their ears as opposed to her kids having enough to eat. Between the constant spending, the economy collapsing, and their acquiring more medical problems with age, I suspected they were going broke.

“I tried to tell you this, sweetie,” Tom said to me. “No one their age works just to keep active. They work because they need the money, only they would have hidden the fact that they were going broke.”

That’s true, too. That’s definitely something they would’ve tried to hide from people. It’s not like they’d be quick to brag and say, “Hey, we once inherited a ton of money, but we weren’t the least bit smart about our money and so we blew it all and left nothing for our kids. At least not the ones that deserve it most.” Dad did, however, say the economy got them down so bad they couldn’t even save, and what they did save had to go to medical expenses. Still, when I learned that Jennifer (Larry’s 30-year-old daughter) is to be getting money as well as a valuable chest mom’s parents had while I may not get shit, that made me want to strangle the bitch like never before! This estranged granddaughter of hers who doesn’t even know she exists, much less give a damn about her, is going to get what should be mine. Tammy said she doesn’t want her fucking money, but I’m just the opposite. I want to milk the bitch for every cent I can. Why not, people do this to people in court for a helluva lot less than what my mother’s done to us over the years. Jennifer, on the other hand, appears to have a full-fledged nursing career. Well, guess what folks? I don’t have any career. Our lovely God has seen to it that I not only can’t work but also can’t collect disability either. So once again Jodi gets the short end of the stick. She doesn’t get what she deserves while someone else gets what they don’t deserve. Thank you, God. Thank you so much for caring about me.

Tammy initially asked me what I wanted from the house, but as I told her, Mom and Dad’s material things don’t interest me. All I wanted was money to help with the upcoming move and I thought we’d get at least a few grand. Had I known exactly what Jennifer was going to take and that we’d be fucked out of money, I’d have asked Tammy to try to get it to me before she could get it and then I’d have sold it. Tammy said she went through the place looking for things of value but there wasn’t much of anything. The only other thing of value is their vehicle but that has to go to pay off their fucking debts which I’ll get to soon enough.

This is why I was furious to learn Larry had knocked his child-woman up. Tom had asked what I could possibly have against this unborn child and that it doesn’t matter how many grandkids one has since it’s just the kids that inherit, but not in my family. When I remembered how my mom’s parents gave each of their 5 grandkids 2K, I figured she would give to her grandkids as well. Well, even if the bastard’s born to a 21-year-old welfare bum with daddy issues, it still counts as a grandkid. If the fucking pervert had just waited till the bitch was dead, then he could knock up the whole damn world for all I care. So not only has God helped ensure me no compensation, He “replaced” the son the pervert killed in 1995 with his carelessness. As I always said, God killed the wrong Larry that night.

I didn’t realize just how careless and downright dumb both my parents were either, her with her overspending and warped priorities, him with his being too soft and not having a backbone of his own. It’s very common with Jewish couples for the woman to wear the pants. He did whatever she wanted. He stood by her no matter what. That’s my only complaint about my otherwise cool, easygoing dad. He just wouldn’t put his foot down. When she got abusive he looked the other way, not that he was totally exempt from the abuse himself. Oh, he could say some nasty things at times, and he had a way with his belt when he got pissed enough. But still, there was no comparison between him and her. I don’t think, but I know that had she killed one of us he would have stayed with her just the same AND the bastard above would have protected her and made sure she never did 5 minutes in jail.

Things were the same with her own parents. Jack wore the leash and Shirley controlled that leash. When Shirley told Jack to jump, Jack jumped.

“Jack, don’t breathe!”

Jack didn’t breathe.

The plan was to dump Tammy as soon as they both died and we got whatever may be coming to us, but now I’m not so sure that’s necessary. There is a connection between two sisters who were abused and I’m not so sure the enemy really is the enemy anymore. She still swears it was Bill and Bill only who called the pigs when I threatened him for his treatment of her and Lisa, but she did admit to and apologize for other things. I had feared she would try to burn me again because she can be more spiteful and vengeful than I used to be once upon a time. I know she’s just itching to report Larry’s child-woman to the Massachusetts Welfare office for living with the baby’s working father in Florida. But I think she has gotten above and beyond some of the things she used to do, and I wouldn’t be dumb enough to give her ammunition to use against me by doing the kinds of things I used to do, like threaten cocks like Bill. I’m either going to just do it or keep such threats to myself.

I just didn’t get her for a while there. I’d slap the shit out of any man that was as rude and disrespectful to me as Bill and others were to her. But as she said, that was all she knew for so long. Tammy’s 8 years older than me and Larry’s just 3 years older than her. When she was alone with him, he’d be like mom and kick her around. I know it’s common for a lot of women who were abused as kids to seek out abusive men or to become abusive themselves by beating their husbands, boyfriends and kids. That’s how Paula is. If she has a hard day, she takes it out on whatever guy she’s with whether she’s PMSing or not. Some of it is still the guy’s fault, too. They provoke women either thinking they can’t or won’t fight back, though we rarely hear about abused men because they are often ashamed and embarrassed to admit they took one from a woman. It is still believed that bigger is always stronger, regardless of physical fitness and state of mind.

Anyway, she admitted that sending Tom that letter in defense of her abuser was wrong and that it was on account of her low self-esteem. She swears she knew I was still in Arizona when we left Phoenix, but didn’t know where we’d moved to or Tom’s family’s name in order to call and trace us through them as they would’ve been dumb enough to disclose that info. If this is really true, then I’m suspecting the outstanding warrant that was out on me at the time pushed the pigs to hunt me down. I don’t blame her for the warrant on account of the white/Jew-hating welfare bums that set me up with the help of their pig pal (I won’t get into how he did it) for the city complaint we lodged. If we didn’t know it was out on me, then she certainly couldn’t know about it. If the pigs make a case against you, they put out court subpoenas and then warrants when you don’t show up, even if they don’t know where you are and can’t serve you. Well, we had no mail service at our Maricopa house, so they couldn’t have served me their little court call. It was when the pig came to the house on account of Bill that they routinely ran a check and discovered the warrant.

So as Tammy and I both agree, we’re thrilled to know Bill’s cancer has returned and I hope to hell he suffers miserably for having a hand in costing me half a year of my life and thousands of dollars, not to mention emotional distress like crazy. You know what else? I don’t care who may think I’m wrong for saying so! I would still beat that cock’s ass if it materialized before me, only now it would be for different reasons than I had when I sent the letter I sent him.

I’ve chosen not to actively seek revenge on anyone be it legally or not because I always get punished for doing so. God screws me by letting others screw me, and He screws me if I try to fight back.

There’s a difference between those I don’t want anything to do with and those I hate so damn much I could not only never forgive them, but know I would mutilate if they magically materialized before me. Kim and Molly are people I want nothing to do with. I don’t like them one bit. But I don’t hate them either. I can forgive people for the kind of shit they pulled on me even if that might still mean I don’t want to associate with them.

But every single person that had a hand, both directly and indirectly, in getting me thrown in jail, is a whole different story. Even if I’d been 100% guilty of writing such a mean, threatening letter to our less-than-kind welfare bums who drove us crazy at our own expense since it was our tax dollars that allowed them to sit on their asses and raise hell, who the hell deserves to go to jail for half a year and then lose thousands of dollars for a fictitious letter?!?! For a fucking letter that, had it been real, was mere words on paper that no one was forced to read, mean or not. That was sent to an adult and not a child.

But everything was all about how black they were, and poor poor blackie this and poor poor blackie that. And of course they had kids and we didn’t. Well, the two measly little pranks I pulled on them – totally provoked by them in the first place – doesn’t mean I deserved what I got! Right or wrong, you can’t pick on someone for 3 years and not expect a reaction. So yes, I pulled a couple of pranks but it was nothing compared to what was pulled on us as neighbors and then through the law when we moved and tried to escape their shit. Never once was their credibility and integrity ever questioned. They casually and freely lied in court and to the media, no questions asked. All the blame was 100% thrown on me. Never once were they asked if they instigated anything. No one knows about the endless hours of noise, trash and vandalism we went through on account of these assholes. I was so, so hurt and definitely offended when no one (except for the few who were powerless to help me) would listen to or believe a word I would say in my own defense. Well, then why did they fucking ask?! Words can’t describe how pissed I’d be when people would ask why they did certain things, I would answer, and then they’d say, “Nah, that wasn’t why,” even though they never lived there or met the assholes.

I know what happened and I know why it happened. So does my husband. If you don’t have a hold on me of any kind, then I have no reason to bullshit you. If I were a drinker and on probation and asked by my PO if I drank and the answer was really yes, you bet I’d lie in that case. But if one doesn’t have a hold on me, don’t expect any tall tales from me because you can’t use the truth against me in any way. You can not like it, but you can’t beat me over the head or control me with it in any way or spank me and send me to bed without any dinner.

The fucking judge made up his mind about me before he even heard me speak in court. This perfect stranger donned a black robe and sat in judgment of me and a situation he knew virtually nothing about other than a pack of lies from one side and one side only. He wasn’t there. My husband and I were. No matter how many false assumptions were made, no one gave a shit and no one would listen to me.

Although my family has nothing at all against gays, it hates blacks and Muslims. While I may hate people as a whole I have always tried to judge people based on their individual behavior and not their color. But like it or not the vast majority of blacks, at least in America, have been determined to “avenge” the past and make the whites of today, who have absolutely nothing to do with the slavery of the past, pay in some way. They’re using their race against us like crazy and it’s automatically our word against theirs. This pisses me off same as people blaming today’s Germans for Shitler’s shit. But I not only can’t have a White History Month or a white whatever without being called racist, but I also can’t have a black person charged with a hate crime should one attack me for being white. How is that any more correct than it is to deny gays equal rights?

Although I was vindicated in the end, there is no record whatsoever to show this that I know of. That’s another wonderful thing about this country which even my sister is coming to hate (I told her I’ve been thinking of trading it in someday for Spain), we air people’s dirty laundry out, but we seldom air their victories out. So I have nothing to show for the vindication that came 2 ½ years too late other than the memory of a phone call early one morning in the late spring of 2003. Scared the living shit out of me, too. It was just after 6am and when I saw it was my PO I thought, “Oh no! They’ve set me up again! They’ve accused me of some shit I have no way to prove I’m innocent of and now I’m gonna get another 3 years or worse.” But it was my PO giving me the good news. I’ll never forget that day. I ran around the house grinning like a mad idiot. Then I was overcome with this strange, sickening urge to hurt myself. Why? Because I was so used to some form of abuse, for once I wanted the abuser to be me so I had no one to blame but myself. I never did hurt myself, though. Just vowed to never ever forgive God.

Getting off-topic again. Sorry! I admit that for a while I was so disgusted with my sister that I couldn’t stand to even look at her picture. Then I just didn’t know what to believe. The family is filled with a web of deceit and illusions that’d make anyone’s head spin. As flaky, weird, and childish as I can sometimes come across with my playful nature, I like to think I’m both sharp-minded and with a good sense of character, but sometimes even I don’t always know what to think.

Tammy has expressed a desire to move on, chat with Tom sometime, and have me get to know Mark who I will admit does sound very kind and loving. They’ve been together for over 10 years now. The only two people he hates are Bill and Larry, LOL. I asked Tom how he felt about my keeping in touch and he saw no harm in it and agrees the past is the past, and regardless of who did what, it can’t be changed anyway. Well, I don’t want to make any decisions right now one way or the other, but I did make it clear to her that we’ll never return to New England. Oh yes, she and I are true opposites. We don’t look alike, we don’t share any of the same interests, and where she likes a seasonal climate, I like a warm one. They didn’t like Florida at all and are thinking of swapping Connecticut in for either Maine or New Hampshire. Ugh! Even so, some people just think the world is all wrong if the leaves don’t turn colors and fall off. It’s still wrong if it doesn’t snow and then the leaves don’t sprout themselves in the spring. And it’s totally wrong to step outside on Christmas to find it 80°. The only time I like it cool is when I’m sleeping and working out, but that means 70°, not 7° with snow and ice. So she can keep her hot chocolate to cuddle up with by the fire while I run around in shorts and sports bras.

I will admit I was a bit of an absentee aunt there for a while even after we slowly started communicating again, for two reasons. One was because Lisa and Sarah were very rude to me in 2010, especially Lisa, Two, I saw it as friend mixing which can be a bad concoction at times that has a way of backfiring on you. Well, I didn’t want to get caught up in the “he said, she said” game. I’m still keeping my distance, though I have no hard feelings at all and wish them the best. Maybe we’ll talk in the future or maybe we won’t.

She got a new laptop, but won’t be back online till the 18th. Poor girl’s got over 100 pounds on me, too. I guess she’s on some medication that’s got steroids in it and it makes a person anything but slim. Everyone’s so tall in the family except for me, though that fucking bitch of a mother of mine wasn’t that big. About 5’ 3”, 160 pounds.

Back on topic yet again. I was under the impression all 3 of Tammy’s girls were anti-Larry, but apparently, Lisa’s been in touch with him. I guess the pervert called her to ask what Tammy took from the condo or something like that. Anyway, Tammy went off on a tangent about Lisa. I guess that Lisa’s caused all kinds of problems for the family, and Bill and her sisters don’t want anything to do with her or at least not much. I won’t get into what it was Lisa said to me a couple of years ago but right away I could see that something was off. She’s obviously not right in the head, but I doubt it’s in the way Molly’s fucked in the head, and I think a lot of her problems were Tammy and Bill induced. I don’t know her well enough to judge, and I don’t want to get involved with any family problems that don’t pertain to me. Nonetheless, Tammy went on and on about Lisa raising hell and “trying” to hang onto the relationship but getting fed up.

First I really poured out our past struggles to Tammy and she really listened and never judged me for my feelings and beliefs (she used to hate God like I do but now thinks He’s just great) and for that, I really appreciate her.

I try never to condemn anyone for their beliefs but I don’t get how she can be such a fan of God. He let the abuse happen. So that’s another one I don’t get. Wouldn’t my buddying up to God be like a woman buddying up to her rapist? But I can see where if one has a relatively good childhood and doesn’t struggle much as an adult and usually gets what they want, they would be quicker to say God was good. If I suddenly won a million dollars, I wouldn’t say God was good since the damage has already been done, but it would help. I still think, for reasons we’ll probably never know, God sees people as we do. Some He hates, some He likes, some He loves. If being a 1 out of 10 means being the most hated, then I’d say I’m probably a 3 or 4 overall, but if you take just this last year of my life, I’d say I’ve moved up to an 8 or 9. Regardless, He let so many people use, abuse and walk all over me, and then He gave them 100% guaranteed protection. How do I “buddy up” to that?

“We lived like bums while mom and dad lived high off the hog!” I shouted to Tammy. “Never consider yourselves bums,” she said.

Oh, I don’t. It’s her lovely God that apparently does. It’s her lovely God who felt my husband deserved 28 months of employment while his wife deserved a sleep disorder. Nonetheless, we struggled our asses off in a tiny trashy trailer for years. I tried to tell myself it was better than some slum in a third-world country, but this isn’t no third-world country! This is the US of fucking A!

I have tried praying for things I’ve needed and wanted, but the results were inconclusive. If I got some of the things in the end it was probably a coincidence that would’ve happened anyway. I have, however, noticed that if I cuss God out and really let Him know what I think, I get punished for it. Things just get worse. They break or other minor inconveniences start escalating. So I am forced to keep in most of my emotions since He obviously can’t handle them and doesn’t want to hear them. So I won’t belittle myself by crawling to this entity that so obviously hates me so, but I try to keep the cussing spells to a minimum.

She was happy for us and how we’re house hunting now, and said she just got a bedroom set she loves. Well, I’m happy for her in return, and although we could do it all ourselves if we had to (it would just take a year or two), I really hoped the least my mother could do after the years of hell she put me through was contribute enough to at least jump-start the renovations and new furniture and all that stuff. That was the least the bastard above could’ve helped see that we got if He gave a damn about me at all, but no, of course not. At least it doesn’t look that way.

Ok, here’s what happened that really got me furious as hell. Tammy said that when Dad was dying he muttered, “It’s not enough. I’m sorry. It’s not enough. I’m sorry.” But she didn’t get it till she learned some things right before mom had a stroke. Well, the store just sold for 50K, but they owed that much on the condo. Then not too long ago, Mom took out a 50K loan which Tom later confirmed he saw online. So now they’re up to owing a little over 100K. Tammy wanted to list the condo for 120K. Not in this economy, the realtor told her.

Why oh why do I feel like God “guided” them and set things up to end up this way just so I wouldn’t get shit? If I’m psychic enough to know other things, mostly through dream premonitions, why would I be wrong about Him or something else up there hating us?

I’ve pounded out half a dozen pages of raw emotion and I’m getting kind of tired. I’ll continue on with the saga later.

Later…

My day started off frustrating and full of tech issues, but then it turned downright sad and infuriating. I am currently composing an entry about it that will only be shared with my closest friends. It’s long, sad and very graphic, so those I share it with may not want to read it. That’s ok. It’s their choice. But if I email it to them they’ll at least have the choice to make. It will probably be done sometime tomorrow. Right now I’m too tired to finish that or write much else.

I woke up with a backache and hip pain and was reminded of why I hate this overly firm mattress so much. I look very forward to the new one coming soon.

Then it was off to fight with phones, keyboards and fans that didn’t want to work right, along with the usual Internet issues. Right now it’s out cold so who knows if I can post this when I’m done.

We’ve been looking at places in the park that his coworker lives in as I’ve mentioned before. But then last night Tom found a good deal on a doublewide. It’s being sold through a realtor, but we’re definitely interested in checking it out. It’s old and ugly but we can make it pretty. It’s 1200 square feet which is better than 720 or 2000, and it’s a corner lot. Satellite images show the roof looks horrible, but it is in otherwise good condition for a 1977 model. Ugly colors, but they can be changed.

So we’ve got a slight change in plan. Because it’s a lot of house for so little money, we’re going to check into that first. We’ll probably still be out of here sometime next month, no matter what we move into. We now have adequate savings to get something decent enough. It’s just a matter of finding the right place and going through the paperwork.