Soooo; What Now?

1. okay so life is really rotten to the core at times, so bad it feels like you're going to hurl at any moment from the constant cruel onslaught directed with admirable ferocity at your overworked mind and body, and the ones you chose to trust and look up to now smirk in obvious satisfaction at your misery, which they are intentionally causing.  Remember this:  you're darn amazing, impressive to jaw-dropping degrees, Fahrenheit and Celsius, and you are more miraculous than you can even conceive.  You have capabilities to make fantastic things happen all of the time, to create life and help it flourish, to brighten smiles and make important connections, to be that person in your wildest dreams....
2.  When I wrote this draft, I felt I could show most everyone else in the world that his or her worst day is Disneyland in comparison with mine, and yes; I still feel it was that bad as more puzzle pieces fit in with the terrible memories haunting me.  You will rarely see me crying though because my crying is usually done like like this: 😂 When the squeeze of evil comes in, I'm generally holding out for that more cathartic sort of tears, which do return, at unexpected moments for which I’m always grateful again.  We aren’t here to suffer without reason; suffering should cause us to take action against it, because if we form habits of silently acknowledging suffering, not only do problems cease to find resolution, they generally will fester in their own awfulness and become worse.  
3. off to the grind on the orders of my love turned anti....yay.  Id better do as he says, #1 because the bills are tremendous #2 because he promises to pay much more back for selling his house, and escrow closes soon, and #3 because he will call the police and have me arrested again for RO Violation if I argue at all, and those Sherriffs come faster each time now :( I detest feeling degraded and used, more so because invariably I’ll be unattractively brooding, with a palpable steam coming off of me that needs no words to say I’m going to unleash the verbal hounds of hell upon some poor undeserving soul if I don’t exorcise it somehow...or...get 20-30 miles away and he will be unreachable again.  I could fly right back at 80mph, crawl thru the doggy door and get kicked in the head three more times, then be drugged with our dog’s pain pills only to wake up the next morning in a god awful mess surrounding smug what’s-his-face, the psycho smug renters, and a nearly empty quart of lube tossed haphazardly across the room opposite the new projector which has been broken off the ceiling and now sits awry beside two separate bowls of cereal, while I groggily wonder, “What horror show took place around my knocked out body, and why?!
4. I made it thru and I don't care to think about that abusive ex any more, nor the other one.  It’s confounding to me that they are so jealous of each other and yet so similar; plus neither has what it takes to be awesome—humility in strength to overcome pride and make amends.  I miss my kids so much it feels like my insides will fizzle away in the acid of longing—their obnoxious teenage revelry and commentary, the feel of their arms around me, their simple gestures of love, and how sweet they smell.  I wonder if their rooms are clean and laundry done, now that I don’t give in and do these for them while they’re at school, if their grades are still good without my homework help, and how I could have been a good life-long Mom, retaining my composure in good character under the constant angry manipulative control their dad had seized to avoid domestic abuse counseling.  I was miserable whenever our kids weren’t around, had connived to bring both of them into the world in the first place 😎 and cannot allow them to accept that sort of “character modeling.”  Their grandmother was in my exact same situation, unable to aright things, and so the cycle continued another generation, but she would not concede to help us, only her son’s elaborate scheming to downplay and deny it all in public records.  As small children, they learned the power of wealth supersedes even the most basic human rights, because enough of it keeps just about anyone quiet for a while.  Growing up with every possible indulgence, they may not see the institutionalized control now firmly in place, and ongoing, seemingly unlimited financial support from these puppeteers, should at least keep them contained until its time to move away for college.  I will have to buy my own house this time, down payment and all, since the mainipulation of twenty years of home equity is justified by what I cost them in high-profile attorney fees.  Its not funny but I couldn’t help but laugh at that last part just now, rereading it. There came this point where I snapped and was ridiculously angry, but there came another point where I accepted what I cannot change and flipped two middle fingers to the oblivious or scoffing world still justifying what they know is lucid insanity. I think most people are comfortable in mundanity, enough so that they resist the sort of work that causes epic changes, for these will find roots in a dark and frightening unknown territory which is actuality really profound, endless in opportunity and exciting in possibilities.  I thought I would be on my beach ranch by now, combing my thoroughbreds after a long ride through the mountain meadows, but extricating myself from a second narcissistic, violently abusive cyber-spying jerk (almost :/) I realize similar horrible things are done covertly everywhere all of the time, and the truly sinister things are right under everyone's noses but most of the masses are too busy self-medicating in denial or too desperate for acceptance to get into the filth and scoop it out. I think I'll just slip quietly into a new life somewhere else, again, avoiding deep relationships and doing what I love best, teaching, selling real estate, writing didactic verse, taking carthartic hikes and poking around party perimeters. God takes me where I am most needed, and when my work is done to the best of my ability, I have to move on, “stoop[ing] to pick up with worn out tools, and never breathing a word about my loss[es]” as Kipling says, so life will make a man out of me.  lol.  Aw well...I love a lot of things, so my adult life should be pretty entertaining for a long time to come. So the world is full of judgemental jesters, pining perverts and hopped up hypocrites; it's also a really big place where wholesome people self-actualize into fascinating beings.  People are witty, energetic and open-minded, and I’ve been cooped up with the chickens for too long. There are plenty of nice niches where one can find solace from the apocalyptic propagandists without their cooty-goo splashing anymore onto me.  Ewwww.  I’ll be a lonesome, bearded mountain hermit before I accept that anyone has a right to put harmful digits on this temple, or that a man is entitled to sexual affairs in anyone’s opinion for any reason.  For years I  forgave too much, in the hopes it would promote healing; loved too long, way too long, while he grinned childishly over bottles hidden in the garage, and when the breeze shifted, smacked my thigh with a 2x4, bounced my head off the walls as he jealously and non-sensically ranted about my relationship during our separation, completely disregarding his relationships in the process. His friend Chris stood up and said, “Ken; come on man,” as Ken tauntingly twisted the loaded .45 in little circles before my pretty frightened face. Ken replied, “shut the fuck up.” And that was the end of that intervention.  I always thought I could talk sense into those maniacal eyes, but it was not to be. 
5. I was showing homes to a handsome corpsman, and we were crazy about each other in no time, moving into a Fallbrook bungalow and buying the best German Shepherd ever!  On top of the world in his arms, he made love to me to the song “Earned It” by The Weeknd and I felt sure I would never be mistreated again. He was attentive and fun and so very brave and intelligent.  How could I have imagined he would pay prostitutes as soon as I left for work, hundreds of dollars missing every few days and then supporting another babymama living in the filthy shack next door, in addition to his mail ordered Puerto Rican and Russian prostitutes, shooting up with her, playing dress up with my clothes, having her in our shower while our psychotic roommates befriended her and kept the terrible secret from me, yet later left audio recordings for my listening enjoyment? In the deepest throws of lethargic depression, he took my $700 Galaxy S7, cloned it, cloned Amazon, PayPal, Uber and Lyft accounts making up work, getting paid for nothing, and setting me up for the authorities. He told me, “awww; you’re so cute when you’re submissive,” as I stood breathless before his unbelievable audacity, and my own pooling of spirit beneath me.  He’d been flying around the world, assuming other people’s identities, and while I was remodeling and then selling his home, rather than helping me, he was charging up my credit to his business front, then spending it on women he bought and spoiled, making fifteen fb profiles for stalking the loved ones he’d betrayed and so had blocked his Roderick Reed pages, which should have given him a wake-up call, but instead drove him deeper into madness, calling himself Drake Casanova, Don Juan, Tony Jirapa, descendant of royalty—yes; royal p.i.t.a.  Still I am surprised the bush “ladies” in our neighborhood believe him when he told them I was just a housekeeper, or perhaps he’d mentioned I told INS about the Mongolian woman he’d moved in just to “honor his promise until she earned citizenship” for a phony marriage that supplied his marital raise and VA loan.  I wanted to believe him, but two weeks of that insecure creature in our home showed enough signs of BS for me to order her out faster than chop suey.  He’d assume this childish innocence faster than contact lenses and tell me how “mean I had been to the poor whore.  Oops.... I digressed lol.  God; I’m so glad to be out of that swamp of lies.  These abusive men were like my emotional polar opposites, selfish and conniving, and too afraid of public opinion to be honest no matter who it eternally hurts, those who share their blood, emulate and admire them.  
6. Don’t keep hurtful secrets, and if you get caught doing this, don’t cover up or justify hurting others.  Repeat after me:  “I did something terrible; can we fix it?”  We may get dirty sometimes, yet helping and making people feel better has intrinsically mutual effects on the helpers, and of course, before we may assist others with their oxygen masks, we must have ours firmly in place.  I know we are full of pain a lot of times, and putting on that brave face so no one else has to endure reminders seems like a good way of paying peace forward. I understand things this way and want to focus on amazing future discoveries and possibilities. I’m a winner, not so much a whiner, yet I admit it’s taken a lioness’ share of pure hell to come this far.  Lets listen more to society’s pulse and the weaknesses we may strengthen amid our busy schedules, keep working hard to understand ourselves and how better to obey basic commandments for the greater good. There is that sensibility in most of us.  If we don’t focus on it, we may find ourselves overwhelmed by unimaginable evil.  It’s a crazy world.  One heartless overindulgence can cause a long and winding labyrinth of heartache, spanning decades and unnecessarily soiling further generations before they are able to understand that something wicked was allowed to seep in, adapt and appear ordinary, causing tears of frustrated confusion and agonies of recalcitrated regret when in fact it most certainly is not normal.  Nothing breeding fear and contempt should become acceptable.  Eyes shouldn’t roll lazily, brushing off beat downs with “that’s just how he or she is,” while beating hearts slow down into whirlpools of spirit-drowning anguish, eyes burning red beneath the salty gushing of lubricated lunacy’s honored hours...I wish you blessings upon blessings to never have to experience that.

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