OK, since nobody ever really reads my posts, I guess I can rant and rave here to my heart's content, right? Here goes....I HATE MY BODY!!! I know I am not supposed to say that but I don't care, I do hate it and you would too if you were in it. If anyone reads this and is going through having a fucked up body, I hereby give you the right to say the same thing! I know it could be worse, I don't fucking care about what could get worse, I only have to deal with now and I hate it. I like me, I just don't like my body. I am 50 years old, 5'3" tall but I weigh like 350 lbs. I can hardly walk, in fact I can walk only about a 100 feet and can stand for less than 5 min without unbearable pain. I have pain in my joints and my back every day, all day. I am on pain killers, but they suck and don't do much good. I am also on antidepressants, also not really doing much good, can you tell? I am doing better than a year ago. I've been getting sicker and sicker for the last 3 years when last year I took a turn for the worst and almost died. I had to have emergency surgery to see what was wrong in me. They found a massive hernia, that had captured my intestines up in it and they were rotting and infected. Well, as you can see I am still here. My colon ruptured on the operating table, so they gave me a colonostomy. Now I get to shit in a bag attached to my stomach. Wow, gotta love that, right? I was so happy after the surgery, I just knew that they had fixed what was wrong with me and now I would get my life back, I'd get healthy and be able to walk and move around my world again. After all, I got a family to take care of and so many things to do. I just want my life back, but now it's a year later and here I sit. I don't know what is wrong with me. I have tried to lose weight all my life and besides that I was getting around just fine before this happened. Hell I don't even know how or when this happened. I mean, 4 years ago everything was ok, I was getting around and everything and then one morning I woke up feeling like I had a kidney infectiom and I went to the hospital. They put me on antibiotics and pain killers and sent me home. During the next week I saw my Doctor, I think twice and had 5 or 6 spells with uncontrollable shivering and shaking and a very high fever. I felt colder than I have ever felt before. Then I had one good day, and I thought now I am going to be ok. The very next day, I woke up so sick I didn't think I could even get out of the bed. Off to the hospital again and this time for 11 days. They tested and tested and stuck me with ivs and still they couldn't figure out what was wrong. They said something was infected. I went home. Spent the next 3 years getting sicker. Until one day, I guess I started to crash. I went to the nearest hospital, they sent me to another hospital. That's where they did the surgery. I spent a week in intensive care and another week in progressive care and then I spent another week in a rehab. center. I just want my life back.
I just had to get up to go to the bathroom, my damn dress has a small hole in it and it caught on the thing that keeps the toilet seat attached and I couldn't get it loose. I pissed all over myself and the floor. I can't even clean it up.Fuck, it is so embarrassing to do that in front of my kid. I want him to look up to me and what the fuck am I? A big fat old woman who can't even make it to the bathroom on time. I am so ashamed of myself. I hate my body, it hates me too.
Maybe I deserve it, I don't know. I really wish there was something about my body that I did like. I used to like my hair, but it has lost all it's beautiful dark brown color and is almost white but not quite. It's in that ugly grey and white stage and it stopped growing too. It used to be very long, down my back. Now it is just shoulder length. It is still very thick and has some curl in it, that's cool. I used to have a pretty face and my fiance still thinks it is, but let's get real here, beauty is only face deep, right? Yea, but my skin is really bad. I don't know what is wrong but I think it is exema or something. My face is like peeling all the time and it feels itchy sometimes and irritated at others. Sometimes the skin peels so much it bleeds and then little scabs form all over my face. My forehead and cheeks are red and splotchy. A face only a mother could love. I do however have a perfect little nose. It is very cute and small. Too small. I also have allergies and the nose stays stopped up. So, it may be pretty, but it doesn't work too well. Brian and Shawn both say I snore loud enough to wake the dead. Since the surgery, my allergies are much better. I take Alavert every day and I rarely have allergy attacks. In fact in the last year I have only had 2 small colds lasting only a week or so. I am on an oxygen machine that I use at night and that seems to help with the snoring problem.
From the neck down, there ain't nothing to like, my boobs sag, I got wings under my arms, my belly is sagging, my ass is BIG, very big, my legs don't work and they are big and ugly.
It's a good thing that my body isn't the only thing in my life, I do have a small, but loving family. They are not perfect but they do the best they can to care for me. I just wish I could tell them I will get my life back and one day I will care for them the way they have cared for me.
Sorry for the pity party, but I just had to get some things off my chest. Don't feel sorry for me, I have a great life, I just hate my body!

It wasn’t easy, but after Kay and I had moved 5 times, we ended up back in Bedford. She got an apartment through Social Services and let me stay. She still needed me to babysit for her. For the first year of Ginger’s life, the only Mother that she knew was me. When she began to speak, she would call me “mama”. Kay was mad. Oh well, it ain’t my fault she didn’t really want to be a parent. Once we moved to Bedford, Kay became a bitch 24/7. She made my life a living hell. Everything I did was wrong. I couldn’t eat any more of the vegetable soup she made and she went off the deep end. Another time, I ate some of what she made in the refrigerator and she flipped out on me for that. She bitched if I cleaned the house, and she bitched if I didn’t clean the house. She told me I needed to get plenty of sleep because I was pregnant and then she would go out til 3 am and come in with a bunch of guys mostly and party till the next day. Ginger slept in a play-pin in Kay’s room. Every morning she would wake up, she was hungry and she would be crying. The more she cried, the more Kay would smack her in the head and yell at her to shut the fuck up. Then she would give her a bottle of milk and a soda cracker. I would listen to this for a little while, trying to go back to sleep, but it was no use. Kay would not get up and give Ginger a real breakfast or anything else for that matter. I had no choice in the matter. Someone had to take care of the child. I took her to get her baby shots, I taught her not to touch things that are hot or that will break, she listened to me and I listened to her. So I would get up and fix her something good, like scrambled eggs or oatmeal and juice. And Kay would lie in her bed until time to get up eat something, get a shower and get dressed up and she was out the door again.
Kay was supposed to be my best friend, she really didn’t know how to be that. She still doesn’t have a clue about what that means. When I was 4 months pregnant, Willie broke up with me. I was devastated and at the same time, Kay and her sister Dee were in the middle of a really stupid fight and neither of them would listen to me. They were so wrapped up in some stupid silly sister fight, they were always fussing with each other over such nonsense crap, you took my panties and wore them, you whore, fuck you, bitch, you screwed my ex-husband! They got louder and louder and all the while Willie is not saying anything, he’s just wrapping a string around this high school ring that I knew wasn’t mine, even though it was a girl’s ring. He wouldn’t talk to me and I just didn’t know what to say, so I took off walking. I was so upset that day. When I crossed the big bridge on Bridge Street, I stopped in the middle of it and thought about taking a jump off of it. Down, down, down to the railroad tracks. But I figured with my luck, I would survive but be all fucked up and I would lose my baby. Something told me that this baby deserved better than that. So I just went on home, to my Mom and Dad’s house. And where was Kay all this time? I don’t know. She never said she even cared about what happened that day.
Another time she got angry with me over something, I don’t know what it was, but she started to hit me. She hit me and I grabbed her. I wanted to beat the crap out of her and I knew I could but I looked down at my stomach and knew if I kept fighting I could hurt my baby, I still had 6 weeks to go before my due date. So I backed off and sat down on my bed and started putting on my shoes and socks. I decided I had feet, I didn’t have to stay there and put up with this crap. I do not approve of violence. But I will fight back anyway I can. This time, it was best to walk away from this fight. That really made her mad. She began to kick me in the legs and scream cuss words at me. I ignored her and just left anyway. I went out to my Parent’s house and later that night, Kay calls, she’s drunk and she’s sorry for the fight and she wants me to come back, she can’t live without me....God, now that I see that I’m thinking how gay is that? Was she like in love with me and abusing me or what?

In 1980, I was still living at home with my Parents. I was 25 years old and unemployed and I had no idea what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. I spent most of my time partying, looking for a party or recuperating from last night’s party. Actually, when I say “ partying”, I mean getting high. I loved to smoke pot but lots of times lack of supply and money made that kinda hard to do. So sometimes I would look for other things to get high on. Pills, speed or downers were good. Alcohol, rum, vodka, wine, beer were also pretty good. LSD was always cool too. Paper or microdot, blotter, whatever, it was all good. If we couldn’t find any of those things. We would take cloth and soak it in a cleaning solution, touline, that they used over at Rubber Tex to clean the rubber products they made or something and put in a bread bag and breathe in the fumes. We called it “huffing touline”. It didn’t take me too long to get tired of huffing. It was really weird shit. I didn’t really like it much. After a few min.s you black out or something, but sometimes you didn’t pass out, you kept on going. I guess it’s a good way to escape life because it can kill you. I know of at least two people who died because they were huffing touline. I’m lucky I wasn’t one of them. I guess I got smart because I quit doing that before most anyone I know. I would sit and watch my friends doing that shit and think, not me.
Before too long other drugs would come around. Drugs like cocaine and crystal meth. I tried both on more than one occasion. I found that cocaine didn’t give me much of a buzz. Each time I tried it I just didn’t feel any different than without it, so I figured I am just not sensitive to it, so I decided not to fool with it any more. Besides, they say it can kill you with just one line. Crystal meth on the other hand was a different story. It made me fly and it made me lose weight too. I needed to lose weight then and I still do. First I snorted the meth but I have a very small nose and lots of allergies which means a snotty nose most of the time, so snorting was out for me. I would take a small piece of toilet paper and wrap my crystal meth up in it and then just swallow it. After awhile one of my friends turned me on to shooting up. I liked the buzz of crystal meth shot up a lot more. It was such a rush. It would take my breath away and then I would be zooming. No waiting, right now! So I did a lot of it. After awhile, I found it was hard to get to sleep, so I would get downers, like sleeping pills or something and take them.
By the end of 1980, my best friend, Kay had given birth to her second child, Ginger. She was unmarried and had no place to live. Her oldest son was living with his Father, so it was just her and Ginger. She came to me one day and said she was going to go to Roanoke and get an apartment and to pay for it she was going to get a job in one of the whore houses on Williamson Rd. She said she needed someone to care for Ginger while she was at work and she didn’t trust just anybody. She asked me if I would come to Roanoke and live with her and Ginger and care for her. Like a live in nanny. I wasn’t doing anything else and so I said yes. Besides I had furniture and Kay didn’t. So we moved to Roanoke together. She worked until 3 am most nights and then she would go out and find a party until early in the morning, sleep a couple of hours, do some coke and go back to work. I stayed at home, looked after Ginger and watched tv and listened to music a lot. Kay would leave me a baggie of weed and some other drug, maybe valiums, or some crystal meth or something to get high on throughout the day.
Sometimes she would bring a trick home with her. There was this one guy who liked to come to the apartment, strip naked and shoot up coke all night and all day. I would go through to the kitchen and he would be sitting at the table, naked as a jay bird all fucked up. He was kinda funny, a tall skinny guy just sitting there. I got so I wouldn’t pay any attention to him, he never paid any attention to me. Then there was this other guy who would come into town every now and then. He drove a brand new brown Cadillac and he always had two bags with drugs, one was for Kay, and one was for me. Kay’s bag was coke and my bag, filled equally was crystal meth. He would hand me the keys to his Cadillac and give me some money and tell me to go to the drug store and get some needles. Back in those days you could get a box of them pretty easy. Plus I never looked like a dope addict and they would believe anything I told them. At least we used clean needles most of the time.
Man, I was living a crazy life. Driving around in a brand new Cadillac, high on meth and loving it! Roanoke was off the hook. There was acid, meth, pot, pills, alcohol and sex! The city was my play ground 24 hours a day. Lots of men too.
Kay brought her younger brother, Willie to her apartment in April, 1981. He had just turned 17 and wanted to get out of his Father’s house. Soon Willie and I started a relationship. He was 9 years younger than I, but we seemed to get along great. So we didn’t care about our ages. Well, it wouldn’t be long and I found myself pregnant. Wow, now what do I do? As I said in the beginning I had no idea what I wanted to do with the rest of my life and now I gotta think about someone else’s life too. I didn’t know what I wanted to do. Willie wanted to get married, but I said no, I wasn’t about to marry someone just because I was pregnant. I wanted to get married to someone I loved and who loved me too. And I wasn’t sure about Willie or myself.
I spent the next 3 months, doing more drugs and trying to make up my mind on what I was going to do with myself. Should I have an abortion, or have the baby? If I have it, should I give it up for adoption or should I keep my baby? I guess I let time decide the abortion issue for me. I waited until I was at least 3 months, knowing that it would be too late for an abortion. I believe that every woman should have a choice about whether she keeps a baby or chooses to have an abortion but for me, I just couldn’t kill my baby. I thought he deserved a chance at life. I know I was wrong keep doing drugs for 3 months but as soon as I decided to keep my baby, I quit doing everything except for pot. I had lost 30 lbs in my first 3 months. I was thinner than I had ever been and I felt great. I didn’t marry Willie. When I told my Mom, she wanted me to move back to Bedford, to her house so she could take care of me but I just couldn’t. When I moved out the last time I had made up my mind that I wasn’t going to move back in my parents’ house and I was determined to make it on my own.

Last night or rather this morning after I posted that last blog, I went to bed and man, all I could think about was all the stories and things I'd like to write about and now what...my Son, Shawn is talking about caulking the door and the porch roof and how early in the morning will I be up for me to call Joey and blah, blah, blah. And now I can't remember any of it! Be honest, I couldn't remember it anyway. So now what? Jerry and Cesar are tearing up the hallway. Chasing each other like crazy, down the hall, into the living room, Cesar makes a mad dash for the sofa. Sometimes he makes it, other times he slams into the side of the sofa, bouncing off it like one of those flying ninjas, always landing on his feet. And then he is off and running. He flies off the end of the sofa, so he can catch up with Jerry. It's so funny, he is stretched out as far as his little 6 lbs will go. Jerry plays easy with Cesar, she knows he is alot smaller than she is and I think she knows she could hurt him but she rarely ever does. He does get stepped on sometimes but hey shit happens when you are that little and not smart enough to stay out from someone's feet, right? Yup, my dogs give me laughter every day and I love it! I can't see myself living any other way. It's my zoo! There are 4 dogs, 4 cats, 1 corn snake, 1 tank of mice, and 2 tanks with fish. One of the dogs, Cody spends most of her time next door with my Mom and so do 2 of my cats, Alex and Dave. Cody and Dave come for visits from time to time. Alex belonged to my older son, Aaron. She seems to have forgotten that she ever lived in my trailer or maybe she just likes it better there. We found her in one of the bedrooms in my trailer one day. Brian and I had been out to a show or party or something and we got in early in the morning. I was tired and all I wanted to do was go to bed. Brian came in to the bedroom and told me that Dave was in the kitchen and he was acting kinda funny. Like he was freaking out or something. He said he chased Dave and that Dave had ran from him, which was very weird for Dave. But I was so tired, I just didn't think anything more about and I went to sleep. The next day, Aaron comes in and looks in his bedroom and says why is there a strange cat in my room? I just looked at Brian and I said well that explains why Dave was acting so funny this morning! It wasn't Dave! Aaron fell in love with the little kitty and decided he wanted to keep her. He named her Alex. When he moved into the basement of my Parent's house, she went with him and she seemed to like it better over there. When he died, she stayed over there. She really liked my Dad. My dad has passed over now, so she stays with my Mom.

My sleep time is all screwed up. I got up last night at 11 pm and now it is 7 am and I am still up. I don't know why but I guess I'm sort of a vampire without the blood drinking part. I just can't seem to get on some kind of schedule. It's the hippie in me and maybe I'm just lazy and kinda bored too. I am watching TV and surfing the net this morning. I recorded something from A&E, Mediums: I see Dead People. I hope there is life after death. I wish I could talk to my son, Aaron. You know, I knew he drank some and I knew he smoked pot too, I didn't really care about that too much. I mean I can't say I haven't smoked and drank or that I still don't. But I always told my boys to stay away from hard drugs, like cocaine or heroin. I told them if they are not doctors or pharmicist they can not know what some powder that some so called friend gave them is, so if they really don't know what it is, they shouldn't take it. I have always been honest with my kids. They know I smoke pot and they know that in my past I have done drugs, bad drugs. Not only do they know about that they know how I was addicted to drugs that were perscribed to me by my doctor. So I thought my kids were smart and would listen to me. But I was wrong, so wrong. My son, Aaron was only 18 when his little brother, Shawn found him dead on the sofa in our living room. The autopsy report said it was an accidental overdose of methadone. I didn't realize how dangerous this drug is. I thought it was supposed to save lives, not take them. I miss him so much. I just want to see his big blue eyes and hear his voice again. I want to feel his arms around me giving me a great big hug, hear him say I love you, Mom, again. There is such a deep pain in my soul, a hole so deep you can't see the bottom. It is so dark and empty. Like an eternal scream. I feel so guilty. Like it was my fault. I wish I had been a better Mother to him. He needed more and he deserved more. I just couldn't give him what he wanted and needed. Somethings you just can't do. I couldn't just go out and get him a new Dad. I know he needed one but you can't just make some guy be your kid's Dad, right? His real Father was and is a piece of shit, a child molesting, woman beating piece of scum. I just always thought we were better off by ourselves than to be with him. Aaron also wanted to live in a real house. He just didn't realize how expensive they are and I couldn't afford one by myself. I have lived in this trailer since Aaron was only 5 months old. We lived in apartments before that. That was when I was trying to make a family with Aaron's Father. My Parents helped me buy and move this trailer to their land in 1982 and I still live here. My Dad said it was only supposed to be a temporary fix, until we could do better. But soon after that, Willie started showing his true colors. I didn't know about his interest in very young girls until after I kicked his ass to the curb. I also took him to court for assalt and battery, take that motherfu*&! At least the last 3 years of Aaron's short life included a Father figure, Brian. I know Aaron loved Brian. He's the one who said I should go for it with Brian and now 7 years later, he was right.