My Life In a Nutshell

[Portabella]

I am going to be absolutely honest, I don't know how far I am going to be able to go with this, but somehow I think it would be good to open the coffin and bear some skeleton's.

I am told that I suffered trauma from the time I was only months old. I lived in the house with a Mother, Father, 2 Sisters and 1 Brother. My Father was very abusive towards my Mom so I am told. I only have one memory of him abusing her, I think they tried to shelter me from it as best as they could since I was the baby of the family. The next oldest sibling is 11 years older than me, so I was an Ooops baby that my mom had late in life. My mom tells me that I had a full beer can thrown into my head at approx. age 18 months and took stitches, she never knew what I did to piss him off, but I did something. She would never dare ask as he would have turned on her.

Well, he left home when I was 4 1/2, but I can remember a final fight that they had and I remember crying and sitting on the bathroom sink while my sisters tried to comfort me as they fought. That is my last and only image of my father other than seeing him once at my Grandma's funeral many years later.

After my Father was out of the house my mom had to find a job. Mother worked all the time leaving me with my one Sister alot. She is 13 years older than me. My sister was wonderful to me for a few years, then she got pregnant and something happened. She changed. My sister would tell me to be quiet, and she ment cease existing. She would slam my head into the wall over and over because she was in a bad mood. But, worse than the physical abuse I endured daily was the mental abuse. By the time I was 8 years old she had me in such a mess. I started to have nightmares/night terrors and the school made me see the school shrink. My mother had no clue, nor did anyone else in the house. My Mother had suffered a nervous breakdown when my Dad was gone, so she was literally useless to me during that period. My Mom tried to jump out of a moving car going down the expressway and I had ears, I heard it. Then my sister told me that the reason my Mother and Father had split up was due to me and that the reason my mother tried to kill herself was my fault. Well, my sister had the baby and he was a doll. My mother still worked all all all the time, so I watched the baby constantly even though I was still a baby myself, I had no clue that at 8 years old you should not be left alone with a baby for hours on end. My sister would make me watch him so her boyfriends could come over and she would have sex with them. I would watch the baby. Then when I had to go to school, she would write a note and take me out so that we could go meet with a boyfriend and she would leave me in the car with a infant/diaper bag/and a soda while she would hop into van in the same parking lot and leave me to tend to him in a hot car for several hours. I have not even touched the tip of the iceberg, but this is enough for now.

[Portabella]

I want to add that my sister was very beautiful, great figure, brown skin, long brown hair, looked like an indian princess, even though we are Italian and Irish. My sister always chose to be with older men and they would buy her expensive things. My nephew's father was her best friends Dad. Yeah, when you look up dysfunctional, that was my family. So...My sister would create reasons to beat me up, telling me that my mom would never believe me, or if she did believe me then she would move out. I knew if she moved out the baby was in mortal danger. By the age of about 2 she started being horrible to him too. At one point when he was younger, about 18 months I had on a dress with kittens printed on it. My mom had made it for me and I could not get the zipper down in the back, it was stuck. My sister took a set of shears and violently ripped and cut the dress off me, I cried silently as crying set her off more. She cut me and my mom found out and my sister moved out. I cried and cried for days. Finally my Mom pleaded with her to move back in as I was actually getting sick. I was so worried about the baby. After that my mom told me to tell her if anything was done to hurt me. However, my sister said that if I told she would beat her son. That was always the threat that put the fear into me. My sister would give him a bath and he would be screaming and I would hear him gurgle as she was holding his head under the water. So....I started and never stopped bathing him, it was my job. When she would go on a violent rant it was always when we were alone, meaning her, me and my nephew. She never spanked him, she would hit him in the head. I was about 10 when I did something not to her liking and she said, "Now that you did that, I am going to beat him". I took a dog leash hanging on the hinge on the outside of the hall closet and swung it so hard across the back of her legs right as she was going for him. She definately changed her target. She welted me all over, I had to wear clothing to cover as my mother would surely have put her out of the house. I am going to continue this later or tomorrow.

[nov_silence]

You are doing a great job.... keep sharing. Proud of you!

[kers]

You're doing great, Portabella.

[Portabella]

My sister decided that I could handle my nephew "totally" at a young age, so she would take us places. (Bronx Zoo, Haunted Mansion of Longbranch, Vernon Valley Great Gorge, Great Adventures, etc) and drop us off there, these places were all very far from home 100+ miles. She then would leave me with my nephew when he was 2 1/2 and older at these places and come back after a whole day and into the evening to pick us up. I look at a child at the age I was fully responsible for him and cannot believe I could do what I did. I will jump around a bit as I have no true chronological order to these things. I remember it was my birthday, approx. 8-11 years old and my mom bought me a ball and chain radio. I was so excited, I wanted one so bad. So, I am sitting in my room listening to my radio and my sister came in and told me to lower it. It really was not loud to begin with, but I lowered it. She then came in, pulled it from my hands and told me that she was putting it up for me not listening. I started to cry, with her you better never cry, so she swung it and broke it on my head. She then broke the little chain that was attached to it and threw it at me, like here you go! So, I had no use for it anymore. I got to enjoy it about a half hour.

My sister was also horrible with the animals in the house, and they hated her and were afraid of her. She had some that she would not do anything to, but others were a target. She once went after Bo Bo (Chihuahua) and he ran up under the skirt of the couch, she literally lifted the couch and he ran out scared to death. She was right after him and I grabbed him and wrapped my arms around him, she put my head through a wall for that one. She had always pounded my head against the wall screaming she would put my head through, but this time she actually succeeded, but bo bo was okay, I placed him to the ground to run as my punishment commenced. We made an excuse for the hole in the wall and of course I kept to it and lied to my mother. At approx. 13-14 years old my sister bought me a horse. I had asked my mother for one and she said "NO". So, my sister bought me one and that way she would have just one more thing to hold over my head. I bit and we got him, his name was "Taco". I loved that horse.

I will continue later

[kers]

How old were you when the abusive sister finally moved out for good? What kind of interaction do you have with her now?

[Portabella]

I am sorry I am taking such a break, but, this is going to take long.
Kers, in answer to your questions. She never moved out, I did. I occassionally have to speak with her when she answers the phone, I say hello and sometimes if I feel generous ask how she is doing. When I go home to visit my Mother and other sister I do my damndest to stay away from her. But...she knows better than to say anything even remotely wrong to me, she pretty much stays out or in her room when I am there. I have been back a few times in the past 20 years. So....it doesn't hurt her too bad. However, we met for a vacation in Pagosa Springs 2 years ago, that took work. We were civil.

[Portabella]

I am struggling with keeping things in order for this journal. So...I am not going to sweat it. I am just going to write. I was very awkward in school growing up. I was different from the others, I was very introverted and shy and meek for lack of a better word. I was overweight and had a lazy eye and was picked on, bullied and abused by fellow students beginning in about the first grade. I was not even really like by the faculty, I could feel it. I had to see the school psychiatrist because of my endless nightmares and continued to see her until I moved from elementary school to Jr. High. There I did not have a Counselor, however the bullying became violent on many an occassion. They lit my coat on fire when I was walking home from school. They really targeted me, I think sometimes we have, "Victimize Me" written on our farheads. The kids were ruthless. I was also thrown down stairs on many occassions. I had no friends, I mean none at all. No one wanted to be seen with me, who wants to get their ass beat for being around me. So....I got it at home and then I got it at school.

Then I met Laura.....I ran into her during summer vacation from 9th grade, she was not exactly miss popularity in school, but she had alot more friends than I had. I ran into her in a school yard, not our school, we talked and she asked me why I dressed the way I do. I asked her what was wrong with how I dressed. Well to make a long story short, she actually helped me. She advised me how to dress to make myself less of a target. I would meet with her a few times a week and we would hang out. Then I figured when school started she would dump me, she didn't. However, I made a few friends and the picking on continued. I am in 10th grade now, and they are still vicious. This one gang of kids caught me walking home from Laura's house one afternoon and whipped me with bicycle inner tubes that were deflated. It was a horrible beating. So....I continued to let people smack me around, and pound on me, never raising a hand. All the while getting it at home from my Sister. Well, don't know exactly why it happened, but one day I snapped a bit. I was at school and this girl breached my locker and stole my sweater. I saw her wearing it and gloating. I in my normal passive fashion reported to the principal and he called her in, my mother in, and her mother in. When I stepped out of his office which was an office within an office, Mary was sitting waiting to go in and speak to them. She glared at me. I was scared. I walked into the hallway and it was already a buzz with how her gang was going to beat me down. Well, I figured if they are going to beat me down, I might as well fight back. Imagine that concept, never thought of that before. So....I went to the wall outside where her group (15-20) would hang out and smoke. I stood there by a pole within 10 feet of them and they seemed to stress for a moment. I think they thought I was trying to set them up. Well, that day was pivotal in my life, because I have never ever allowed anyone to lay hand on me again without a fight. I never realized when you have a belly full of hate just what a bad ass MoFo you can be. Violent OMG. However, these rules did not apply with my sister, sadly she still had a grip on me, but it was loosening. And Oh yes I had to see the School Psychiatrist and The school Counselor constantly, cause I lived in detention. I had structured study hall, I had before school detention, after school detention and they had no other way to give me detention. I am shocked they did not expel me, hell I never even got suspended, not once. I beat some ass in those 3 years of school, not one, not one a hole that hurt me went without a beating. They got me a bit too, but it did not matter anymore. I still have trouble with pain, I get mad, I don't feel Physical pain, that is until later.

[Portabella]

Growing up I used to go to a place called YDA, Youth Development Association. I enjoyed myself there. It was in an old red barn colored farmhouse down a dirt road sitting way in the back fields of the high school, however not part of the school. One beautiful day when I was about 15 y.o., I was walking home from the stable and wanted a cigarette really bad. I had no matches. I saw a guy walking the opposite side of the road and called over to see if he had some. He crossed over and asked where I was headed. I told him home. He said why don't we go to YDA and shoot some pool. I agreed that sounded fun and I did not have to be home for about another hour. So, we walked back and headed down the dirt road. When we got to YDA it was locked, but he was quick to tell me that he had done some intern work there and had a key. He said stay put and went around the building, next thing I know he is inside an has the front door opening for me. I remember I was wearing dark green corduroy's and a green checkered sweater that day. Funny what you remember isn't it. So, we are going to shoot some pool an he comes up behind me to assist me with my stance. I can remember when he put his arms around me it did not feel right. I had to use the restroom and he walked in on me and then apologized. I remember looking at the restroom window and thinking could I possibly get out through it. It was small. So, I took a deep breath and went back into the main hall and told him I needed to go home. So, we got out front and along the east side of the house there was a row of single pines and then a corn field beyond. Well, I am not going to go into the gorey details on a public forum but I was manhandled, and violated. I then walked home and got into trouble for being late. I never told. He was a senior in my high school and he told me his name. After he violated me he asked me to hit him. I wouldn't, I was scared to death. I remember throwing away those clothes because I could not wear them again. I also knew that it was my own fault, in looking back boy was I naive.

[Portabella]

Well, I know I am jumping around while writing this diary, but the trauma's from my younger years are massive. As you probably guessed my horse Taco was short lived. I had him approx. 2 years, we kept him on rough board for $50.00 a month. Full board was too expensive as it was around $200.00. However, I worked it out with the stable owner that I would muck stalls, water and feed all the full board horses if they would feed my horse in return. This worked out well for a while. I practically lived at the stable. I was there during my summer vacations from school from morning until night. While in school, I would go there directly after school and work. The stable owner sold out and moved to Texas and new people came in. They agreed to the same terms, however I had to unload the tons of hay delivered also and gave riding lessons once a week on top of the other chores. Well, Taco came down with a disease called Navicular, it would render him lame. We had to give him Bute daily as he was in some pain. I could walk him, but that was all. I loved him dearly anyway.

So, I was going to Texas to visit my brother, he was stationed in Kileen Texas as he was in the Army at Ft. Hood. I went for two weeks. I missed Taco soooo bad. I could not wait to get home and see him. I finally returned home and headed straight for the stable. The minute I entered the gate to head to the barn the stable owner screamed from her house for me to wait. I heard it in her tone, I knew something had happened. What happened, while I was gone my sister convieniently sold him to a man that would sell them for rendering. The hate I felt was overwhelming. I was hurt to the core. To this day I can get upset when seeing a horse that looks like my baby did. From this day forward I would just as soon kill her as to look at her. My sister was very evil, and still is. I am very grateful that 1700 miles seperate us. However she still lives with my Mom and treats her mentally like crap, my mom will not defend herself, neither will my good sister that also still lives with my mom. I wish they would put her out on her ass, but they can't. Or so they say.

[Portabella]

So, through all this torment growing up in my Mother's house I had my real friends, the dogs and cats. We had a Collie named Sandy, A boxer-Bloodhound named trouble, A chihuahua named Bo Bo, A sheltie named Shannon, And two cats Cocoa-Calico, and Stormy-gray cat. Well, if they did something wrong like pee in the house or poop or get dirty my Mother would go on a rant saying that if they kept it up she would give them a "Needle". What she meant was she would take them to the vet and have them destroyed or "Put to sleep" as she worded it. Well, Sandy was about 6, had weak back legs and growths on his back. Trouble was starting to get testy and my mother felt he had a brain tumor. (He was just testy), and Stormy was starting to have loose stools all the time. So my Mom called this place called (Maybe I should not use the name, it is still there). It was a shelter. My mom and my good sister packed up the three Trouble, Sandy and Storm and asked me to come along. My mom explained that they were sick and being put down. No not by needle, she got a deal on a big death packet, they could all be gassed together and it would be the same price. A three for one, what a ****ing bargain. So, we drove there and the dogs knew, I swear they knew they had to be dragged and my mom and sister stayed in the car and I had to carry trouble and drag Sandy. My mom has this policy that when an animal is destroyed you have to stay and see the body, see they might sell it to science and that would not happen to one of her animals. So, I watched them and even assisted as they pushed, more like crammed my friends into a small door, more like an oven and shut the door. The gas hummed and I stood there sick waiting to look at my dead animals. I viewed them and went back. My mom and my sister was so hysterical crying, I lied. I told them that it was not bad, it was very fast, they had room and each other to die quickly. They died horribly. I however told them what really happened years later after I moved out. Bo Bo was old and losing control. Gas is cheaper and since it was so lovely she was going to give him the same exodus as the other three. I laid it out for her and Bo Bo lived for several more years on a long leash in her kitchen. She felt awful, I felt like a traitor and a killer. I have since in my adulthood had to put to sleep several of my companions for good cause. I will not allow an animal to suffer. However, they do get the shot and I do stay with them every minute comforting them into death.

[Marilyn_S]

Portabella,
You have a very kind heart for someone who has been through so much. I too am an animal lover. I have 12 pet chickens all named chikos. I have two pet rats named Nibbles and Meme. Meme is a bit neurotic and doesn't like to be picked up. But nibbles rides on my shoulder through the house. I have three dogs, one papered German Shep. and two "American" lol. Well shucks! Keep up the good work. Take gentle care of yourself my friend.
Love & Care
Marilyn

[Portabella]

So, I am now 17 years old and have never had a date per say. I was set up on a blind date with a guy named Nick, well it fell through. So, it was a friday afternoon and I was going to a Blondie concert that night with some friends when my girlfriend Bonnie called and said that the blind date was for that night. I gave up the Blondie concert and went on the date, what a mistake. Hindsight is 20/20 for sure. Well, we went to a bar, (I had fake ID and the Nick was 3 years older than I) and Bonnies date was an idiot. We ended up thrown out of the bar by the bouncers and I went home. Nick said he would like a second date and we could pretend the first one did not count since it was so aweful. I bit.

So, I am not going to go into heavy details, but now I am dating Nicky. A 6ft tall, body builder, dark skin, blue eyed, blonde haired Italian. What a dream right. He was aweful. He was a momma's boy like I have never seen the likes of. All he ever told me about was his ex girlfriend named Janice and how she was gorgeous and she was perfect for him and how his mother loved her. Well, next thing I find out is I am pregnant. I was panicked, I was a catholic, abortion was out cause it was murder. My mother was going to kill me. I told my Mother and was put out of my house, while being pushed to marry him. I was not to resistant to the idea because I wanted away from my sister anyway. So, I lived with Nick and then we got married by the Justice of the Peace, of course we could not have a church wedding, we had sinned. Both our parents made that clear. Nicky cheated on me from day 1, or should I say before day 1. Nick was also very domineering and would force me to do things sexually that I never even knew existed. Nick did not care if he hurt me, if I bled, did not matter, as long as he was satisfied. Nick never hit me, but he hit the dog Kimba. I warned him not to hit her, I was losing it. Well, one day he hit her and I called the Police, they wrote him a ticket is all. He was pissed. I told him that I had warned him not to hit the dog. Nick put down my body, my boobs were too saggy. Why do you have wrinkles in your forhead. Constant belittling me. Well, my contractions started one night, we were watching Deliverance. He would not leave the movie to take me to the hospital. So, my mom took me. I was so unprepared for the pain and Angie was sunny side up so it was a hard birth. I took medicine for the pain and they had a forcep delivery. I woke up in Recovery and Nick was not there yet. Why, he was with his mom. Well, he showed up about 10 p.m and brought me a burger king. Then looked at the baby and went home to bed.

The next day I was holding Angie and she had the hiccups. The nurse looked at her and took her from me and seemed panicked. I knew something was wrong. My mother arrived for a visit and began bitching at me about a used condom that she had found in her basement couch and my sister told her it had to be me. Well, I told my mom, Hello does it look like we used condoms, we were here with a baby weren't we. I never used one before. Just my sister being a bitch, trying to ruin my event. Nothing new. Then the nurse came in and said that they had drawn blood from the baby for its blood gases. She advised that the baby was turning blue and something was wrong. The nurse further advised that there was a Pediatric Cardiologist looking her over. Well, this all went very fast. The Doctor came to me and advised that she would need to be flown to St. Francis Heart Hospital. He further advised that every baby is born with a whole in their heart and it closes within the first twenty four hours. This allowed her blood to mix. Well, hers was closing and she had a disorder called "Transposition of the Great Artery/Vessels". They were going to have to give her an experimental drug called "Prostoglandens" to keep the hole from closing for now and I would have to sign to give permission or she would die. I signed. They told me that she was going to have an emergency procedure called a "balloon Systosomy" and rip the wall of her heart out to allow the blood to mix. Essentially her Aorta was where her Pulomanary Artery was and vice Versa. Meaning Red blood was going to the lungs and Blue blood was going to the body, she was dying. The next thing I remember was the flight crew had her in an incubator thing and brought her to my room to say goodbye. I had over a hundred stitches in my lower region as they had to cut me from stem to stern and into the rectum to get her out during birth. I begged to go with her. They said I was not stable enough physically. So, everyone left and headed to the other hospital. I continued to beg for them to let me go. No dice. So, I made my bed real nice and called a friend to meet me in the parking lot, told her if she would not take me home, I would walk, so she came. I snuk out and headed to my house to try and find normal clothes that would fit as I had gained weight. My feet were still swollen and I could not fit in my shoes as I had Toxemia during pregnancy. So I wore Moon boots, that was interesting. I took a bus to the train station and then took a train to the city. I then walked about 10 miles to the hospital. I got there about 11 p.m. worrying the whole way that she had died. She was in the Pediatric intensive care. They said, "She is here, that has to be the mother" as I walked past the nurses station. I guess everyone was looking for me. I then sat in a metal rocking chair at cribside with my daughter in front of me for 3 days. The doctor told me if she made it the first 24 hours I would be halfway there and if she made it three days, we were on the road home. My stitches were killing me and my arm was turning all red and it was traveling up my arm. On the third day I went to the regular hospital to find out that my stitches however painful were not infected, just drying out without care and as such very painful. My arm was Phlebitis and I had to take a shot to break up the clot or it would kill me. I took the shot and headed back to Angie. Angie had tubes in every orafice, she was tied down arms and legs to the bed, she had monitors on her chest and needles in her head and I could only rub her fingers. Well, it was made clear before we got to go home that Angie would need open heart surgery at about 11 months old. She would have to have a surgery call the "mustard operation". She would always be bluish in color and I would have to give her digoxin to keep her alive as well as hemperin to keep her blood thin. This is all for now, I need a break for sure.

[Portabella]

Not to change the subject but something wierd happened just a bit ago. So, I am talking with my Mom on the phone and she tells me that her and my good sister went and got haircuts today and did some shopping. I said, "that is nice". Then she says, "You know that shelter out on War*&% Road, I said, "yeah" then she said that her and my sister went there and donated Dog food and Cat food today. I said, "Ma, you know that place holds some very bad memories for me"? She told me yes she knew that and she admitted that for years she would take a different route when travelling so she would not have to pass there, the memory was disturbing for her too. The discussion then changed course, but I have not discussed nor thought of that place in so long, and for me to bare my soul to this forum about how much it altered my emotions as a child and for her to mention it within days of me baring how upset it made me is really odd. Makes you wonder how thick the bond can be. You have to understand, this happened about 30 years ago. Too much for coincidence, "twighlight zone music commences". Very perplexing to me.

[Portabella]

Angelina Nicole was a beautiful baby. She was not really blue, she was pastey white and when she got sinotic she would get blue around her lower eyes, nail beds, lips and if it ever got too noticable she would have to go to the doctor right away. I am now 18, and have a terrible relationship with my husband. A child that is ill and could die. Pending open heart surgery for her in the coming months. And I go for my 3 month post pardum check up and I am pregnant. Angie had to go to the doctor monthly, echograms, EKG's, and Angiograms. She had to be catheterized twice for a look to see that her heart was holding out.

This is going to sound horrible, but I tryed so hard not to love her too much. It is like being given a puppy that is healthy and one that is going to die. You really try and emotionally disassociate yourself from the sick one to try and protect yourself.

I am now almost to term and Angie's surgery is coming up. I am stressing because I have to be able to sit at the hospital with her and I have to give birth and both are scheduled around the same time. So...they induced out Anthony, my son, so that I could three days later be at the heart hospital with Angie. What a life. So....I go to the hospital with Angie and they are putting her through test after test to be sure she is ready. I would sneak home to see Anthony inbetween. So...the pediatric cardiologist asked me how Anthony's belly button cord was healing. I told him the stump was looking yukky. He admitted him to the hospital so that I would not have to go back and forth. Anthony was on a normal floor, Angie was in the PCU. Well, the day of her surgery came and I was a mess. I prayed so hard. I lit candles in the chapel, I cryed in the bathroom, they sent the hospital shrink after me because I was totally wigging out. 8 hours later her surgery was over and I got to see her. She was swollen. She was again tied down to the bed, she was in a tent. She had chest tubes on both sides coming out from incisions. She had monitors all over her. She had IV in her head, neck, foot. She was asleep and all I could think was would she make it. The doctor told me that the chances were 60/40 against. Well, I could stay with her 15 minutes at a time. So...I was headed up that evening and I saw a whole bunch of doctors over her working. I knew something was wrong and stood frozen about 10 feet outside her door. The pediatric Cardiologist told me that her pressure was dropping and that meant she was bleeding inside. She was headed back to surgery. He said if the bleeding was in front of the heart they would get it stopped and all would be well. If it was behind the heart, he then knocked on the wood handles that lined the hall walls. I was numb. I could'nt cry anymore. I called my family and let them know that it was going bad. Early the next morning about 2 a.m. she came out of surgery and she was alive. I was happy, but it was too soon for any relief.

Well, she bounced back fairly well. I was going to get to take her home. Woo Hoo. Now, I am at home with my family and dealing with an abusive husband, but he was a great father. I mean he loved the kids immensely. He just did not love the mother. Me! A girlfriend of mine that lived in Phoenix asked me if I would like to take a break and go and see her. Well, Nick was all for it, my mother even backed that I needed some rest. So.,..I took a bus and went to Phoenix for 2 weeks vacation. I called home to check on the kids for the first two days and on the third day could not reach Nick. So, I called my mom and she continued to try and reach him. No luck. So, my mom went to my home and called me crying and panicked. The house was empty, the bastard moved in with his mother with the kids. I blew my stack and headed home the next day. Upon arrival I found that he filed for divorce and that he had filed for full custody as he claimed I deserted them. He claimed he did not know that I was going to Phoenix for a break. So...I called the courts and they said that I could explain it during our hearing but for now, I could not have my kids. My dog Oliver was not with Nicky, so I headed for the pound, and yes he had brought him there. Oliver had been adopted. I told them he was my dog, he was AKC whitehead and I had papers. They told me that they would call the lady who had adopted him a few days prior and tell her what had happened. So...I go to pound the next day and met the lady and she had Oliver, she had lost her Old English and just adored Oliver. I knew my life was taking a digger and figured that he would be better off with the lady, I signed his papers over and gave Oliver a life. I cryed my way home. Then my mother tells me that since I had moved out, I was not welcome to stay at her house, my mothers motto. "If you move out, you can never come back". She threw me out. OH well, so I went to a friends to try and figure what to do. I actually had no home. I was homeless. OMG....I am 19 and homeless. Something happened then, don't know what or how to explain it, I went numb. I don't mean numb for a day, hell no, just don't give a rats ass numb.

[Portabella]

So....I would spend the nights at friends houses, however this was wearing thin, if only in my own mind. So, I was going to the bar at night and drinking. I met a guy, his name was Frank. Frank was a piece of work, I realize that now, but at the time he totally intrigued me. Frank was in a motorcycle gang and wore his colors proudly. Well, I moved in at his house. Now this was wierd because it was really three houses, front house, middle and back. Frank lived in the back house, I lived in a room in the front house. I could give a guess but all together there were approx. 40 people living in the three houses combined. The front house was the biggest and had three floors. Well, after about a month I moved into the back house with Frank, there were only about six people in that house including Frank and myself. Frank was the Vice President of the group. Frank was strange because he was so nice when we were alone, but in front of others, he was an ass. Treated me poorly. Well, I stayed with him for a few months, I actually don't remember a whole lot. I was drinking and getting into drugs at that time. So, Christmas time comes and my mom asks me to come home for Christmas, I was so proud. My nephew would come and stay with me at the gang house alot, he was always there, I would not desert him, thus it kept me in contact with my Mom because he lived with her and my sisters. So, I go home for Christmas eve and I am going to spend the night there and do Christmas. I brought my duffel with my clothing and it was snowing really heavy out. I am guessing it was about five p.m. and when I got there my mom said I should go up and take a hot bath. So I did. Then I was headed to the basement where I would be sleeping when I heard my horrible sister begin screaming at my mom. My sister was saying I had left a hair on the soap. I told them I had brought my own toiletries, so it was not my hair. She was livid and crazy and went and got the soap. The hair was brown but short, like my nephews. My mom told her this and she kept going and going and going and going. I heard her from the basement and began methodically packing my duffel. I headed up the steps, put on my coat, and told them I would be leaving. My mother and good sister were obviously upset. But...the horrible sister would have ruined their Christmas, so....I told them I had another place to go and left into the blizzard like weather. That is when I think the full break happened. I took a train to Penn Station and spent Christmas in Penn waiting for a bus to take me as far I could get. I ended up in an industrial part of Pennsylvania, out of money, no food. Oh well, **** it, I started hitchhiking. I spent two years out on that road. I never called home. I cared less and less as time went on. I thought of my children, but also figured they were better off without the likes of me. Well, let me tell you the road is no place for a young woman. I was naive, sheltered, uneducated on any form of life on the streets. But that was all going to change and fast. There are some very good people out there, but the majority are bad when you are on the road. They will beat you down, chew you up and spit you out with no remorse. I can say those two years are a big blur. I will post what I remember, and hope to remember more as these are my lost years.

[Portabella]

I swore I would never sell myself for food or money. Do you know how hard it is when you won't? People will give you Drugs, Alcohol and Cigs, but food, hell no, you can go for days without food. I used to dream of a can of corn to mix with a can of pineapple. Sounds wierd but that was always my craving. I would stay up for hours on end, never safe to sleep. I was a rabbit and the world was full of owls and hawks. I was prey. I did not know that social services would help me, remember I was raised sheltered. I did not know that I could go to a homeless shelter. I just had to keep moving. Keep going. From California to New York. From Canada to Mexico. I had to have hitchhiked 100,000 miles. No, I am not kidding. Yes, I am serious. What did I focus on, trying to find a meal, trying to find a ride, trying to not get killed. Or was I trying to commit suicide out there, but was too chicken shit. Or maybe it was my Catholic roots, you cannot kill yourself, so put your ass out on a road day and night and eventually you will take the wrong ride and wind up in a ditch. Well, they tried. I fought for my life, so if I am trying to commit suicide on the road, why fight for my life so hard. Perplexing.

[Portabella]

So, I can remember it being a fairly warm day, I am on I80 in Illinois, headed east towards N.Y. and I am wearing a pair of shoes that were putting blisters on my blisters and my feet were killing me. So I decide to head north on a hiway that will take me to Chicago so that I can find a Good Will, or Salvation Army where I can get some cheap used shoes to ease the pain. I go north to the river and then caught a ride that took me East I believe and ended up in a downtown bad looking neighborhood, the Salvation Army store (a large one) was on the right and a tattoo parlor was on the left. All I could think about was find some shoes and get out of this city before it turns dark. So....I found a pair of Colorado Hiking boots. Good Condition too. And started walking to find a more traveled road to catch a ride on. I got to the road by the river/lake and was headed east to try and find the interstate to take me south and back to I80. It was dusk and this Young (approx. 20-23) black man, wearing white shirt and sweats, driving a nice car picked me up and asked me if I was crazy for being in that neighborhood. I told him I just wanted to get back to the highway to take me back to I80. He told me there was a short cut that would take me through and place me on the Indiana side and he would take me there and I would be back on I80 there. It is now dark and he says that he needs to make a quick stop, I am in a vacant lot across from a tall wide building, think it was the projects. He said wait in the car and I did. I waited for about 2 hours, no kidding. In the meantime I saw not one white person, now I am as little prejudiced as they really come, but....I had this gut feeling I was in the Southside and I knew my mortality rate was nil if I had to walk out of that neighborhood. (Sorry if this insults anyone, I don't mean to). Well, he comes back to the car and asks me if I want to get high, I told him "no", My gut told me something was going a miss. He then asked me if I was "packing", I told him no. He then piledrived is elbow straight into my face. He did this approx. 5 times, my nose and lips as well as gums were bleeding. He then decided it was time to rape me. I remember thinking that he had me cut and dry just with the Neighborhood I was in. No need to hurt me.

[Portabella]

Well the deed was completed and he asked me to remove myself from his vehicle, which in my eyes was a death sentence. So.....I reminded him that he had promised to take me to the highway. He seemed exasperated that I would even say this at this point. But....he kept his promise, speeding off the minute I left the door, surely did not want me to get his plate #. I was a bloody mess, but I never called the Police, why? What would they have done. I had such a vague discription.

[Portabella]

I remember being on the road and ending up in El Paso Texas. I was hanging out with a bunch of homeless people, not far from the interstate, I think it was I10, but I am not positive could have been I20. We were where this obviously old giant building had beem knocked down and there was a giant mound of rubble, with large uneven blockes of broken building wall in a pile. I sat there for hours and shot the crap with a bunch of other people I did not know. Everyone on the road has a story. I however did not want to spend the night with these people and the the sun was on the down side, so I got to the interstate and caught a ride with two guys in a pick up truck, older model, They had a gun, I believe a rifle in the back window on a rack. I sat by the door the younger guy in the middle, and the older guy was driving. They took me west to a place that was real close to El Paso, but we were in New Mexico now. Anthony, New Mexico. These guys were real hillbilly sorts, and were carrying on. Well, we were on a hiway going west for that I am sure, and there was a break in the wire fence that lead straight out into desert. (Maybe if someone on this site lives near there, they can tell me where the hell I was). They were acting sexual in nature and asking questions about a girl like me and if I wanted some. This torment went on for only a few minutes, we were actually off road and it appearred to be in Sand Dunes of sorts. They were sure to let me know that the army uses this area to practice war games and that they would not be out there at this time of the year. They took their guy and loaded it and told me to get out in front of the vehicle and walk. Well, I knew I was dead, no doubt. They were going to shoot me. I looked at them still at the truck right side door and asked, "why". They were laughing and shouted at me now, very ugly toned and said, "I Said Walk". The younger of the two was out and standing now with gun in hand. So, I walked, straight forward ahead toward the dunes, no use in running, you cannot outrun a bullet. I was so tired of fighting this life anyway, so **** it. I kept my walk calm, did not scream, cry or even look back. I was going to die with my dignity and not feed their festivities. Then I hear them yell for me to turn around, well I was waiting for my head to explode and I turned around. They said, "Get back here". So I went back and they layed the gun on the dash and told me to get in. I sat in the middle this time, wondering what had just happened. They took me to the highway and let me go. They almost seemed pissed at me the whole ride. I think they wanted dramatics, a show per say. I think I may have saved my life that day. Don't know.

[Portabella]

Okay, it is fair to say that I suffered unimaginable trauma on the road. But....I am going to jump forward right now for as long as my kids will allow because they are around me right now. I want to tell you what got me off the road.

I was in Ohio and was hitchhiking, I caught a ride with a trucker. He was very quiet and had very distinguishing features. I would never forget him even if he aged 40 years, they were that distinguishing. I have thought of putting this on the private side of this diary, but I am going to go public. So, it is daytime and I am riding with this guy, he is older than me I think, but not by much, he is small in stature. That is as far as I am going with his looks. He is driving a long nose semi pulling a refer. After about 200 miles of riding he starts to talk to me of his wife and son. Evidently his wife was cheating and he feared losing his son and he really hated his wife. We never stopped to eat and I don't remember even stopping to pee, although I am sure we had to of as I was with him into the night. We stopped somewhere in the Pocono's along I80, there were rocks going up on the right side of the road, like it was a interstate cut into a mountain. On the left was a drop off and then you could see the Westbound traffic and then a huge drop off with gorgeous scenery. Trees and pine trees, just wilderness. We exited somewhere there and drove in a cloverleaf around to a road that lead to a little and I mean little ma and pa truckstop. We parked in the very back of the lot, closest to the exit to get on the cloverleaf and get on the highway. He had a cooler that was at my feet. It was old, it had the chrome lid and had diamond shapes cut into it. He asked if I wanted a beer, I declined. The store was closed that was completely across the almost empty lot. Maybe two other trucks were there, but they were parked about 150 ft. away up by the building. Well, I kept smelling almonds, like a burnt almond smell. Had been smelling it all day. he had spray that he would spray the cab of the truck with and his sleeper curtain was zipped on one side as to block any view I would have of the sleeper area. This is odd if you have ever run with truckers. Well, I had to pee, but had no where to go. I got out of the truck and pee'd between the cab and the trailer in the little section by the pig tails. I then returned to the truck, well he had me pass him another beer and another and the more he drank the more he spoke of his wife and how all women are ****s. He got more and more angered it seemed. Well, soon I had what I call "pucker factor" set in and felt that I needed to get away from him. But where? So, I was in for the long haul so I just listened as he ranted and raved. Then he told me to come and sit by him, I said "no, all I am looking for is a ride east". He then grabbed my hair and pulled so hard that clumps fell out. I pulled away and lost alot of hair and felt the pain of it ripping from my scalp. I left the truck and started to walk the clover leaf as fast as I could. It was about 2 a.m. and I was scared to death. The clover leaf had a wall going up of mountainous but steep like a wall black rocks going straight up within inches of the line that was a guide for vehicles on the right. I could hear his engine start. I walked thinking that I needed to make it to the interstate, I could hear his truck release its brake with a distinct "hiss" and then he was coming. he came around the edge of where I was and placed his passenger door blocking my path and said, "get in, I am so sorry, it won't happen again, I was just angry". I knew I had no where to go, he had me cold. So, I pretended I believed his apology and got in. Besides when I had run I left my duffel and my purse and my coat. So, I get in and he picks up speed, and then he rips my hair and tells me that I am a Bitch and started beating my face and tells me to get in the sleeper and wait for him to stop. I reached in the side that was unzipped and felt a ......person, I felt a dead ****ing person. I did not remember that until today, that was the smell that I have pondered on for years and years, it was not decay, it was fresh death. It was air freshener. It was a dead person in the ****ing sleeper. I am going to now make a long story short. I fought. I opened the passenger door and climbed out, yes of a moving semi doing about 80 mph. I hung on to the side bar and prayed that he would not put me and the passenger door into the rocks. He hit the breaks instead and I fell. I fell hard. I remember thinking, get up, get up now. and I got up and I ran, I ran back into the direction that traffic would be coming up from behind us if there was traffic coming. The roads were dead, I remember making it past the trailor and he was there on the other side screaming at me, I kept running. I remember thinking, he could not leave his truck sitting in the middle of the road like that. I am so glad I thought to run back and not forward. I ran and cryed and ran. Another semi did come along and I was bloody. I had no skin on my arms in spots, my knees, face, legs, I hit hard on the cement/asphalt. But....the trucker that picked me up wanted to call the police. I just begged him to go real slow, I knew he was up there waiting and if he saw me God only knows, run us off the road, shoot me in the face. I don't know. But the trucker was kind and crept along. When morning came he brought me to a place and got me a coat. He also doctored my wounds. I was sore so bad, but would not go to the hospital. I felt I was to blame.

Today I have spent hours looking on the internet for killer trucker, the year was 1981 or 82, could be 83. But there is nothing. My mom told me that they called her and found my purse in Indiana. My duffel was found a couple of months later in Ft. Stockton texas in a ditch. He knows my name, or should I say knew my name, it is now different. But....he is still out there. This is my main trauma, and it will not go away.

[Marilyn_S]

Hey Port.
So glad you are able to get this stuff out. Just want you to know I'm with ya all the way! You go girl!
Love and Care
Marilyn

[Portabella]

I have been evading this "trauma diary" like the plague. I will stay out of my past for a bit. I need to absorb what is going on with me emotionally right now.

I am eating cereal every day, you could call it a craving, I NEVER eat cereal and yet daily I have at least one cereal. My son asks me constantly if I am okay.

I keep seeing a vision/flashback of trees growing out of the water. I keep thinking about a man that has an older days rod stewart mulet punk hairdo and he is putting on lipstick and talking to me, but I know not what he is saying.....

[Kathy]

Thank you for sharing your story here Portabella. As I've said in other diaries, I learn from reading the experiences of others, as it helps me to better understand trauma and therefore understand Evie, and all of you! I think it's very courageous as well. Not sure I would have the same amount of bravery.

I am eating cereal every day, you could call it a craving, I NEVER eat cereal and yet daily I have at least one cereal. My son asks me constantly if I am okay.

Evie will eat the same foods for weeks - before she became ill it was lasagna and tim tams and nothing else! Quite infuriating for us. But my theory on it is, it provides a kind of comfort to her. Something she can control and does not change. Perhaps it's similar for you. In any event, cereral is nutritious.

I think the breaks from one's diary are healthy and quite necessary really. If you do too much at once, you could get quite ill - has happened to Evie unfortunately. So do enjoy your break, and take good care.

[Portabella]

Thank you for the comforting words. (As I just finished my cup of raisin bran and shared the remaining milk with my cat puss puss) :crazy-eye

I think of Evie often and hope she is doing well, or as well as can be expected.

I walked through a crowded bar today to use the restroom, I am quite proud of me, however the alternative was to pee on the back roads and that did not sound like a comfortable situation. I really had to go. I also spoke to my Mom today, New York has had a terrible Ice Storm. She is house bound until approx. Tuesday. She has my good sister with her. However, my bad sister was there too, I made a joke and told my mom whom is elderly and arthritic to go chip ice to allow my bad sister the ability to go to work. I had this vision of my mom and my good sister with ice picks getting my evil sister out.

My mom called just a short time ago, and yes they sure did. The thought of being stuck with her for three days straight, my good sister pick and axed the ice for 1 1/2 hours. My evil sister spent 6 hours hacking and my mom kept telling her to "get in the house and give up" which made her keep hacking. If my mom had told her to keep hacking, she would have come in, got to learn the ways of the evil one. We at least had a good laugh.

[Linda]

My thoughts are with you.
Hugs

[Portabella]

So, I am relatively down in the mouth today because of all the violence on TV this week. I have been trying to just get through. I have even somewhat avoided the forum. So, I get on today and my emotions were all kind of at a head anyway. I see that some very special folks on the forum are going through very sad/bad/horrible times. So, I sprung a leak and now am going to get out of here for a bit.

[Portabella]

So, I get on the forum today and I am reading and learning as usual. I got triggered by some of what I read today and I feel anxious and hurt. I feel this is compounded by my apprehension of my upcoming trip and surgery. I know this sounds dumb as I am a tough old bird, but the thought of having a pin placed into my arm and my wrist put back in place while totally awake scares me. Oh well.....cannot afford the hospital or the anesthesiologist so....will go the cheap way. I think a break from the forum may be a good idea as I am getting heavily effected at this time. I am also worried as a friend of mine with PTSD is in the hospital again, "stabilization unit" and I am hoping to speak with her prior to leaving for my trip. I am still missing my cat dreadfully and it really breaks me up. I know this cannot be compared to the loss of a child, since I have suffered the loss of a child at 8 years old I would know that. However, after having Puss Puss for 18 years this is still taking an effect on me heavily, effecting my whole family in fact.

[Portabella]

Alright I am going to go lay down now and watch a movie, "the painted Veil" and try and veg. I read that a cat should not be as serious a death as a child. I don't know why that comment hit me so hard, but it did. I know that I am going to be sitting at my daughters grave in less than two weeks, she is buried in New York. She died at 8 f%$#ing years old, why? No it was not her surgery, that was bad enough. It was blood, all about the fresakin blood. I am sorry but I am told this is my diary so I am going to spill it out. I know it was a druggie or homosexual that killed my daughter. Aids was pretty strick to them in 1981 when the blood supply could not even be checked. I try, oh I try, I have nothing against druggies, they can kill themselves putting the needle into their arms, and gay people, have at it, but keep your blood to yourselves. I am on a rant now. When you see an innocent beautiful 8 year old girl, my beautiful f^%ing 8 year old girl die slow. Yeah I realize that a cat is not a child, but the cat stil freaking hurts too. Now I am the one crying and sick.

[batgirl]

OMG so sorry to hear about your daughter Portabella. I'm not sure I realized you had lost a child like that. I apologize if you told me before and I have forgotten. I've been kind of out of it lately. That is very sad, especially dying from tainted blood, I totally get your resentment towards druggies, etc. It must be so painful.

Sorry about Puss Puss too. I love cats, and I believe I read in another thread that your cat was 18 years old? That's practically a whole lifetime for me! My aunt's cat is 15 years old and has attached himself to me specifically since I moved here, he is constantly at my side. In the back of my mind I keep thinking he will not live much longer, and that is sad. I'm sure I will be very unhappy when he dies too.

Anyways take care, I hope you have a good trip to New York and feel better soon.

[Portabella]

Thank you Evie, I am trying to stay positive, but it does push me emotionally when returning there. I will be fine I am sure, even if just an act for my son's sake.

[Portabella]

Okay, so I redid my "road interview" last evening, just wanted to see if it differed, have not checked yet as it actually took more out of me this time. So...I wake up at approx. 3 a.m. from a dream, I dreamt the "road interview" I was in the road interview, No cup, No House, No obstacle. But the road and the river and bridge were there as well as the fields in the distance with trees and stone walls. As I awoke I realized I was in a snow globe, my sister was holding the globe in her hands. There obviously was no water in the globe, just the dust from the road that would swirl up with her slightest movement. I have this deep in my thoughts this morning and I now realize, she is my obstacle, I need to get past her. I within minutes of waking up realize I need the glass to break to allow the dust to be set free. This dream is deep.

[Portabella]

OMG, my anxiety is high. I am trying to push back the feelings of seeing my sister, but cannot. I know I am having very vivid nightmares right now, but after I wake up they fade fast. I am sure I will not have to see her much as she tends to fill up her schedule when I am out there, but what if? I am a ball of nerves.

OMG the cats are playing....I just turned to tell the big one to be quiet as he was scurrying around and realized he is playing with the new one. I guess they are going to be friends, that makes me happy and relieved a bit.

I have so many reason to be anxious right now, however the one that takes the cake is seeing my sister. Not only seeing her, but being in the house that the abuse happened or should I say the majority of it happened. I will come back from this trip stronger having been able to face it and control myself once again.

[Portabella]

Today is "Pizza in the Park" day here. My stomach is in knots. My little one is starting to really get excited in a good way and he does not realize I am living on Imodium. My little old poodle is whining at me alot, I think he realizes that I am going somewhere. I always worry when I go anywhere that he will die while I am gone, he is just so old. As long as my older son makes sure he gets his meds and that he gets his rest he will be fine. Pissed but fine, he gets mad at me upon my return. I am his Mom. I hope my sister works a whole hell of a lot when I get there. She usually spends most of her time working or in her room when I am there, I hope this time is no different. I know if my nephew comes to see me, she will sit there as she is afraid that we will spill the beans of what we endured. What she does not realize is we spilled them long ago, but my mom is too afraid to say a word. So many memories flood me at this time.

[Portabella]

Well, I am back from the island and all went well with the arm. My bad sister was uncomfortingly sweet to me. Kind of scary. I mean we were civil and I actually had no real issues while there. I drove past the area of my assault during the road days, I felt nothing, absolutely nothing when going past. Very strange, I think I may have overprepared mentally thus repressing any real emotion. My best buddy Colleen died. I cannot picture not having her in my life, that is just shattering to me. Her favorite expression was "thats fu&*in lovely". I am selfish and relieved that I did not see her number on my caller ID, I was so scared she may have tried to reach out and we were not there. But she didn't.

[Shinigami_Shimai]

I hate it when fmaily act out of the ordinary and are extremely nice, I'm always expecting them to do something hurtful while my back is turned. I don't think I could visit my hometown... been putting off a trip for a while because I'm too afraid of going back. Must have been pretty hard...

Sorry to hear about your friend.... not sure what else to day other then what I did in my reply to your message. Well, hope you have a good nights rest.

jaa ne

Kat

[Portabella]

So I am grounded right now and that sucks. My car has a timing/distributor problem that I hope is going to be addressed tomorrow or the next day by family member. Ed's car is overheating and needs to visit the shop on monday for a thermostat. Ed will be going out of town on Tuesday so he will naturally be taking his fixed car at that time, so I am hoping my car is drivable by then.

I killed a baby scorpion on my porch yesterday, too close to the house for sure. My dog has been licking his mouth alot and I am hoping he was not stung, he is eating now and acting better so I am guessing he is okay. My poodle tryed to put his back out again yesterday and freaked me out, as I know his time is limited, he is just soooo old.

I keep thinking of Coleen and cannot seem to pass over the thought that she should not be dead. Its like I know she did it, but cannot believe she did it. I cannot shake the feeling she did it by accident, maybe that is my denial. Coleen was so alive, funny, and full of spunk that this is the last thing I expected. I could see a motorcycle accident, car accident anything but suicide. She loved her husband soooo much and was a great mom and grandma too. I cannot picture what happened in her mind to make her do this. I know she had a fight with her older son Bruce that morning. I know she called her mom and said "goodbye", so I know there was no fowl play. But.....she had been through so much in her life and horrible things and managed to overcome and still laugh, I guess she reached a breaking point. Her son Bruce and his wife came to the Memorial and they only stayed about an hour, I know he feels guilty about what happened, I know this was probably what Colleen wanted, but it is not going to change Bruce one Iota, so now her grandbaby is pretty well doomed.

I sat and held her younger son in my lap, he curled up and we just held each other. I know this sounds strange by James is 17 and yet when I held him he was just little James the baby I always knew. I know that I am going to have to remain in his life, would not have it any other way. However, I am worried about him and his mental state right now. His counselor's were at the memorial and he had to take pills in front of his dad, I am thinking he is probably a bit suicidal at this time.

Colleen is not scattered yet, she remained in an Urn covered by red velvet and she needs to be scattered and not kept on the entertainment center. This I felt is unhealthy for Chris and James. The clothes were still hanging to dry as she had left them the day she died. Nothing is touched. I think Chris needs to box up alot of her clothes and such and not make her presence or absence so "in your face". Opinions from you if you are in my diary reading this would be appreciated.

[Shinigami_Shimai]

Suicide is probably the hardest thing to deal with because there are so many questions revolving in ones head about wither they could have saved the person if they had done something different. Also letting of of the notion that the person might actually return is very hard. I've seen a few suicides in my life and each one is hard to deal with. I remember one of my friend's father shot himself in the basement and my last memory of her was her sitting on the stairs awaiting for him to come back. Just last year I was helping out a pair of sisters and the youngest took her life. It was very hard and I still find myself thinking of them. The oldest sister refused to pack up any of her sisters things for months until she noticed her little boy was sitting in the room awaiting his aunt to return. After 3 month she packed up the girl's room for the sake of her little boy, but it hurt her dearly doing just that.

I think some people need to feel that the person will return to them and need time to realize the person is not coming back before they can cope with life again. Leaving things as they are is sometimes a way to remember things as they were. I've heard of families losing children and never changing the bedroom until years down the road. It seems to be a normal part of grieving. The only time to really worry is when their normal routes in life get effected by the loss, not going to work or school and the like. Give them some time and see how they are in a month or so. One never knows how quickly one will recover.

Anyways, Sorry to not give much advise.

jaa ne

Kat

[Portabella]

Okay, so the car is in the shop to be fixed, mine is not yet, but at least after tomorrow we should have a car again, that will help.

I spoke with Marilyn on the phone yesterday and we just chatted and she let me vent about Colleen and all that has been on my mind. This was very helpful to me to actually speak to someone about it.

I am hungry right now and find that I am getting accustomed to being hungry once in a while again. I think this is a good thing as I have been eating with every bare hint of hunger for several years now and not fighting back the hunger. I really believe I will benefit from this, however I also believe this is not easy. I think once I return to working it will get easier.

I started a good book yesterday and am about 1/2 through it. It is called "gone but not forgotten" and is a definate hard to put down kind of book. However I have had a bad headache for approx. 2 days now and still think I may be kicking the caffeine. Not sure.

My sister Pat (the mean one) sent me a hat from Puerto Rico and I am really worried. I don't know what she is thinking, we have not even exchanged so much as a card over the years. The hat is nice, but I beyond have no trust that she is even trying to have a "truce". I will remain civil while waiting for the real reason for her civility. Something doesn't smell right. Something is up.

[anthony]

Port, your doing a great job getting things out here. I was just reading through all your last work, and I must say, your handling things, which means your looking at what you feel. Denial is ok for a while, though we must come to terms with what the facts are, what the rational process is.

[Portabella]

Okay, so today is okay other than I don't feel good, kind of like I think I am coming down with something. I feel out of sorts.

I called my Mom a couple of days ago and while we were talking, my mom says "Pat says hello". Okay this floors me. So I said "hello" back through my mom. (Twilight Zone music ringing in my head). I just don't get it ....lol.

So, My car cost $700.00 that I did not have and still overheats. Hmmmm....thats crap. Then the Air conditioning is making odd noises and the overheating seems to exemplify when I run the air. So....I won't run the air.

I continue to eat healthy with the protest of my one son. He feels I am taking it too far, I don't, this is actually not that hard. And I am afraid to admit it, but my clothes are getting looser. Something is happening here. I was doing leg lifts a couple of days ago and pulled something in my right groin area. That hurt for day, did not work out for the past two, let it heal. Will resume today!!!

Had a very strange dream. Was wierd more than scarey. I was with my friend Scott. We had a lovely visit, laughing and having a picnic. They say dreams don't last long but this felt real long and was so nice. One problem, Scott died three years ago. I may sound odd, but I feel like he came to me and I feel more closure now. However, he made it clear that would be our last visit. Strange as heck.

[Portabella]

The past two days were very hard on me. I would love to write about it in here and just vent but don't know if I am allowed to write about someone else threatening suicide and what I went through subsequently. Am I? I am going to ask this in the ptsd forum and hopefully we can give me a look at the ground rules for this. I went through so many tears that I am sick. I have trots terribly, and my headache is unreal. Could not sleep and like a crutch drank coffee and took NoDoz today, I am not going off my change of lifestyle diet, just need any help I can get today so call it a treat. By the way, on a better note, clothes are mega loose now, cannot wear pants I wore in NY they will fall to my ankles, still have not gotten on a scale, and probably won't but definately took off a substantial amount, no turning back on this one.

[Portabella]

I have been so unbearably grumpy lately I cannot even stand myself. I bite the heads off of family members because I don't want to hear the word "mom" so much. My son walked up behind me while I was on the computer and I gave it to him with both barrels, hate that, do not walk up behind me, he should know better, he does know better, but I could have handled it different.

I just am very irritable and cannot seem to shake it. I have been dealt alot lately and I am not going to get on a pity pot, but I have been turning it all inward and think its eating me alive. Enough is enough and too much is TOO MUCH.....

I am going to go back to bed now as for two days now I have this in and out feeling like I am going to pass out. Think it may be an ear infection, hope its an ear infection. I am going to watch "wild hogs" and try and find something to amuse me.

[She Cat]

Port,


Sorry that you are having a rotten couple of days....The anger issue can be tough. If you know what's bothering you can you try to break it down some into a more manageable playing field. So to speak???

Yes we all have the things that bother us, and coming up behind me is one of them too. My customers scare the shit out of me all the time. They don't mean it, and I have now learned to laugh about it. That is once I can get my heart to stop. My customers really really try NOT to scare me, but no matter what they do......Well you know.

Hang in there, better days are coming...

Wen

[Portabella]

Can you believe I did it again today. OMG....is my son Paul trying to piss me off or what. He got nasty and spiteful this time and is now in his room hiding. I told him, "what do I need to do pepperspray you to make a lasting impression so that you don't come up behind me". I feel bad that I said that, but Christ when is he going to learn to stop the crap.

Now, I am going to vent a minute and then run and hide as is the norm lately. As you know I lost my best girlfriend to suicide recently. I am having a hard time with this and it is just adding to it all right now. About 3 weeks ago my significant other came home, we have been drifting apart for literally 6 years now and he works tons. With this new job of his, he was literally working 18-21 hours a day, 7 days a week. So, kind of like living with a ghost, hell I would get more company out of a ghost. But....sadly my little one, was devastated, he never got to see his dad and he loves his dad. So, I kept telling him for the past months that he needs to prioritize and spend a bit of time at home with his son. No Luck. Well, he finally cracked from all the hours and came in and was stumbling literally from exhaustion and said, "I cannot take this anymore", "I hate my job", "I hate my life", "I am not happy", "I cannot do this", "I would be better off dead, then my bills would all be paid off and then you would be cared for", "you guys would be better off", "I want to put a bullet in my head, then I can sleep". So, he was crying and crying a real breakdown for sure. So, I watched him for his whopping two hours of rest and then he was up and off to work. I talked to my son, then my mom, then decided I need to get the guns out of the house for sure. Also, what if he decided to take us with him. Well, I also decided to speak with his sister to try and figure how to get him help. Ed has always warned me that if I tell his family anything, he would kill me, but que sera sera, I don't intimidate that easily and I am not going to stand by while he may off himself and not at least try and do something to help him out. So, I told his sister everything and she in turn called his mom out and we met at the park so not to expose the little guy to anything derogatory about his dad. His mother started questioning me, "what is your relationship like these days?" "have we fought" I told her the truth, "what relationship" and "time to fight, hah, I never see him, I am lucky to get to say "hi" in a 48 hour period. Big breath.........

[Portabella]

So, as we sit at this park, his mom gets watery eyed and then says, "if he does not come to me for help I will not help him", "does he want help". I told her after the breakdown the night before I would assume he did. Well, she essentially did not want to get involved. GREAT!!!! Useless weak women, gotta love em, someone does anyhow. So....I talk more to his sister as she brings me to the house and we load up the weapons for transport to her basement.

I told her that I wanted to intervene his job this day and tell him that he needs to go back to his old job. He would be taking a loss of approx. 18,000 a year, but we could survive on potato's and mac and cheese if we had to. It sure beat him dying. So, we concocted a plan, go to his job and say there is a family emergency to get him out for a bit and talk to him.

[Portabella]

It was not a lie, it was a family emergency, "HIM". So, we went there and did it and he came with us to his sister's house.

Now, I might add that I don't exactly love Ed's family, mostly his dad, he is a bastard for lack of a better word. I have felt that way for a long time, always remained civil regardless of what the domineering, womanizing, degrading bastard had to say. I have dealt with him for 8 years and never ever had a comment to piss him off other than once and that was just a mini discretion. He loves to be the boss, he loves to control ed and treat him like a little boy, he treats ed poorly and ed cowers. Ed will run around him like a puppy trying to get approval and do anything that da da says because he was mildly abusive to ed enough so that it left him eager to please to gain approval from his daddy. He will never get said approval because nothing is good enough for that man, if he has nothing or no one to bitch about and make miserable he is not happy, so he bitches and controls and makes all that come in contact with him as miserable as he can. NOW THAT WAS A MOUTHFUL!!!!!

So, did I mention that Ed cannot pay his own bills, all bills go to Daddy and Daddy pays them and Ed gives his check to DADDY. Daddy has our house in his name, the cars in his name, land in his name, etc....etc....etc.....Whatever, I don't plan on marrying ED, I mean he tells people we are common law, but I am getting to where I claim him less and less as Hah, we are distant friends. I communicate more with my Mom and she is 1800 miles away.

So, we sit him down to talk to him at his sister's. He starts crying and his sister who really did appear to understand told him that we are behind him and that he really needs to give up that job and go back to the old one so that he could be happy again.
Well, sis calls ed's mom. So, she comes to the sister's and Ed breaks down and tells her everything. He explains that he cannot afford to go back to his last job and take the pay cut, because when he got the new job his dad had raised what he owed him to keep us without. Well, right about then who pulls up in front. Daddy......

Well, he comes in and asks Ed if he is that unhappy with his job and told Ed that he best get out of there and go back to his old job then. But....then he says, "Don't tell me its just the job ed, its your family too". ed and everyone stayed silent, cause BOSS HOG was speaking and they all fear his evil ass. So, he feels he has a captive audience an since he takes 90% of our money to live and I am still out of work with my arm he holds all the cards, Right? Wrong.......So, he continues on and says, "I call the house and can hardly hear because of the dogs in the background (he hates animals by the way and they hate him too) Logan causing a fuss, don't know how you can sleep in that house" "you could come home and live with us". I forgot to add, his mother said that at the park too, that maybe he should go home and stay with them so he can get his rest. Yeah, he will rest better for his two hours at their house, blow off his family and maybe she can breastfeed her baby Eddie for sup sup too...
Goo ****ing GaH

[Portabella]

So I had a bit of a setback this week, not a huge one, but a setback non the less. I had severe anger issues with Logan's school and lack of security in it. I fell silent during a board meeting I was so scared that I would let the beast out if I opened my mouth, made me aware that he is still very alive inside me. I am so mad thought terrible thoughts and have been working through it on my essentially and trying to do the rational and politically correct thing and not lose it and ruin my chances of leading parents to a victory over the school board. I know this does not make sense to most, but had to vent non the less. I am so freaking pissed that I could just choke someone....grrrrrr.

[Portabella]

Lost my temper today with my eldest and said some very horrible things, I hate when this happens. I just lose it, part of me at the time feels that I do well as at least I just say horrible things and I do not do horrible things, but no excuses Theresa, you have to control that anger. Grrrrr.......I threatened him in a way or sorts and I really mean it at that second, I have to get a grip on myself and hope it does not happen again. grrrr...

[TDurden1937]

Hey Portabella -

You are under an incredible amount of pressure. Not sure I wouldn't have buckled already and hid . . . somewhere.

My dad sounds very similar to Ed's dad ergo an asshole. Mostly a drunk asshole.

He dominated the family by being brutal and cruel. Although, my brother took a placating attitude, and paid for it later, I for some reason, and I have always been this way, was defiant.

Like up yours bitch. Your just a drunk asshole. Why should I let u make me feel bad.

Must have been my mothers influence . . . she never backed down from him. Factually, she'd attack first sometimes if she saw a fight coming. Thank God for women . . . although I don't understand them. The simple mind of Men . . . lol.

[Portabella]

Okay so I am sitting here and it is 1635 hrs and there is a board meeting tonight at 1800 hrs and I want to go, and I don't want to go. I want to go to see what is said about any updates about security in the school, but I don't want to go because they are so useless and corrupt. We can speak at the meeting however, they will never answer us, its just a forum to vent. They snubbed us at the last meeting a couple of weeks ago and will continue to do such unless radical changes are made. I need to get on the ball and start a petition to Oust some of the board members, however it is lonely fighting them. Also, I do have a silent board member on my side that is fearing for her job, I cannot publicly utilize anything she entrusts me with, however its an ace in the whole for bringing petition before the House to try and get it on the November ballot to get a resource officer for each school. I have my work cut out for me, while I juggle my home, children, just pulled Logan out and started him home schooling, and continue with my job. My plate is full and I am feeling it. I cannot cut corners, however I am tired and it shows. I feel angry often and for no specific reason just feel pissy as hell. I am trying to organize as organization is the only thing that will get me through this so it is imperitive.

I will also add, yes the father in law is an asshole. NO Doubt there. He is rather an evil little imp who preys on stirring the pot and disrupting the life of anyone that he feels fit to torture any given day. However, He is Ed's dad and I do have to keep my emotions in check, however I have no respect for the man. And you wonder why I returned to the forum to get grounded once again, my life is getting ever complicated.

[Portabella]

I am cranky as a mother so I figured I would vent a bit, however I am not sure why I am feeling this angry. I just am. I am tired of my kids fighting and I am pressured to keep the house clean, work my job, cook, home school the little one and I just want a break, not a mini break a real break.

I am showing wierd ass behaviour as I keep asking my son to do head counts on our house cats, don't ask me why I just keep thinking they are getting into places that could harm them and I am rather obsessed, but I cannot control the feeling. I even hear them meow and think they are crying for help at times, I hope this passes.

Medically I am still a train wreck and continue to take the barage of meds to help get my body back on track as I am not really wanting to drop dead just yet. The meds give me the shits and that just sucks too. My job won't let me use the restroom other than on my 15 minute break without a doctor note, I felt like an idiot having to do that. I hate my nosey kid trying to read this over my shoulder, however he is not close enough and he knows better than to get up close behind me. Okay I vented. Hope tomorrow is better.