Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Archive for the ‘family courts’ Category

post start date:  nov 4 2010…

anniversary time,  happy happy!!  happy radial and ulna fracture!  happy “bon anniversaire, mon divorce hypothétique!”

“feliz aniversario, mi divorcio hipotética!”

“felice anniversario, il mio ipotetico divorzio!”

“юбилеем, мой гипотетический развод!”

you’re worth a bag of sick,

“ครบรอบปีที่มีความสุขการหย่าร้างสมมุติของฉัน!”

“記念日おめでとう、私の架空の離婚!”

“週年快樂,我的假設離婚!”

“sretna godišnjica, moj hipotetski razvod!”

“גליקלעך יאָרטאָג, מיין כייפּאַטעטיקאַל גט!!”

happy google translate.

but, yeah, a year ago he jumped up at me and took me down with all of his force saying, “you think you’re tough?  i can be tough too.”  my poor wrist was broken in his hand as it smashed against a table on the quick way down.  that was the first moment of silence we’d had in over an hour while i looked, in total sobering shock, at my twisted arm that was rapidly swelling and changing color.  we’d been fighting and i had lost all control and was hitting him with all of my primal anger and weak hands.  he’d accused me of cheating again.  it was almost a pastime of his, accusing me of things and finding ways to further isolate me.  this time his insecurity involved a man i worked with.  i lost it.  i kept thinking, “you are not going to take my job away… you are not going to make me feel guilty for supporting my daughter.. you are not going to take the pride i have in my work away from me!!!  i don’t deserve this, i’ve never deserved this.”

(do i really want to go into the next moments?  can i?  i’ve really got to.  these are the really painful memories and the gray areas.)

i managed to weakly bark out, “you broke my fucking wrist.”  “call 911.”

no.

he wasn’t going to call 911.

i certainly wish he hadn’t now.  if i’d had any idea what would happen to me,  i’d have crawled to the ER by my teeth.

no.  no.  no.  he wasn’t going to call and he had thrown my phone and i couldn’t find it.  staying low, i crawled to the front door and opened it and started screaming for help from the neighbors.  he grabbed my bluejeans and pulled me inside again, slamming the door behind us.  at that moment, it occurred to me that he was going to kill me.  horrific pain was setting in and i was too weak to fight him for help so i just pleaded repeatedly and cried, hoping to find the place where he keeps his shame and guilt or simply badger him into doing something.  “they’re going to arrest us both and our daughter is going to go to social services.”  “CALL!!!” i yelled.  what a mistake, one of my worst.

i never thought in a million years that they would arrest me.  i thought they were going to take him and put him where he belonged and that we’d sort through his treatment, child custody and our separation later.  what a relief it would be to come home from the ER and have him gone.  oh justice!  oh righteousness! oh how naive.  i’ve always known he was a liar.  a poor one.  just as poor at it as our police force is at their work.

and it rolls.  downhill all the way he’s got me rigid.

i went to my talk therapy.  there had been quite a delay.  i had forgotten all the broken children he left inside of me between our visits. upon query of him i gave too favorable of a report.  i just found last month’s apology letter and the last three days have cut me to threads of old sinew and short muscular fibre of little use.  of little taste, some butcher’s remains am i.  as i ride on my ticketed rickety train from a departure point of sane to an arrival in good old terror depot.  yarrow, pennyroyal, emmenagogues.. a cramp fed straining of my fragile bowel heart.  my gut receiver.  my pennyroyal, my dear black cohosh, do you work psychically?

can you abort him,

can you keep me while he tries to kill me, can you keep me well?  or  hide me from the manic carousel?

he is going to kill me
i found out the other day it’s so rarely complete, my full sentence, my full thought.

of course you can’t.  stay tuned.  it’s ratcheting up.

Advertisements

Read Full Post »

modem is too slow. nature and fresh air are much faster.  i wanted to share with you 2 posts that i did get to read today that i expect you to read as well.

hey- have a say…

then- please take a gander…

sorry to be so short.

Read Full Post »

there just isn’t enough.  there isn’t enough money or love.  there isn’t any time or virtue.  there isn’t enough pride or care.  there isn’t enough autonomy or responsibility.

my cup runneth under.

and no one cares a wince, gives an inch or takes with them what they leave.  my cup is a bottomless trash heap.  it no small wonder i still drink.  take all of this tragedy in a crash course with me in its trajectory and i explode in solemn bits simultaneously.

i let one thing or the other take its’ piece of me.  the clicking as i write.  is about to cause a good old fashioned fight.  i don’t get to be just me anymore.  i’m poorly paid rented out whore.  to any cooking or cleaning or cancer parade down 290 that i can possibly make.  i’ve less friends than fingers and know more sinners than saints.  i’ve sure had it with my fine chalice.  i’ve sure had it with malice and love and i’ve just had it. i’ve had it all.  i did everything that i wanted to and more and the pile of the mire of my life that it bore is a pile i’m soon make a pyre.  set the whole motherfucking thing on fire.  get important papers in order. poor me.  and i bet, poor you.  i bet on poorer you than i gamble on poor me because i’m sure that this suffering is par for the same course that i set when i married someone i already thought i’d divorce.  poor me.  poor me.  peas porridge in the pot.  it’s nine days old it’s smells like the skunk i hit tonight on the road.

if you cant find me the dopamine, i’ll go get the dope.  i’d take just about anything that would untie the rope. i’m sick to death of being sick to death.  they don’t know what i behold and can still bestow and the state can’t even give me my papers to free my body from death row as a mother, a wife and a lover.  i’ve got no charges and i’m still an offender in someone’s rear ender.  life ender.  destruct the fucking courts while you destruct the fucking lenders.  i’m in the doom of being robbed straight from my from womb.

sorry… that pause was for some old fashioned fighting.  it’s pretty much how we say goodnight and good morning.  in the middle of each.  this isn’t a warning.  it’s just my crap rap.  it’s my brain on drugs, the kind your doctor hugs when his dividends reach over thousands prescribed.  i’ll imbibe and imbibe until you tell me the refills are over.  i can make it back to sober.  i’ve done it so many times.

thank you father pharma for offering me my best life.  it may not be the best but, the worst is best unsubscribed and undesired, undescribed.  i’ve married a pathic my days are not centric on any calendar, just the waving of who’s white flag.   who bows first.  who controls most.    if you’re the  parasite i’ll surely be your host because i love you and i would rather teach you than beat you.  love you than eat you and frankly life is coming down to boast of its’ ghost soon.  so if you think you’re doing it alright i can bet you’re doing fine with the most, quit leaving me the first responder, i don’t own anything that can shock you. you have to do the work that i’ve done, treat our daughter like a son and quit the fuck following after and after. you have to be your own mommy now.  it’s just history.  your old me.

Read Full Post »

paralyzed by what?

i don’t know.  i don’t know.  i’m not really paralyzed as much as i am boxed into my own mind.  i can move.  it just takes a tremendous effort.  i can’t make decisions well.  i’m unable to gain any closure about any of this and i am severely handicapped in all efforts to phoenix on outta here with a few other willing participants.  no one can help me and i’m in no position to help anyone.

why?

he “finished” his therapy.  he didn’t graduate.  he quit going.  he doesn’t want to pay for the co-pays and at the same time, far more suspiciously altruistic, he wants to save our total number of yearly visits for me.  i’ll need them.  i’m in therapy and i see a doctor who prescribes.  i pled to him last month to go see a prescribing psychiatrist.  it must go against one of his codes.  he’ll never do it.  i tried to put it in really friendly terms.  it’s just another door closed in my face.  it’s up to me to turn away and go on to the next door.  i’ve been stuck knocking.  i see his little green eyed monster come calling and i know he’s trying to keep it down, but he needs help that neither of us can provide.  but, he’s “finished.”  my tension builds.  i need to get away from that door though, because i can tell now that i won’t like what’s on the other side.

i’m not over any of this.  i think i was waiting for things to change.  as far as help for him, help for me, or writing.  i was really for showing people what has happened to me so that it might not happen to them.  i never thought he would change, just find coping and life skills that he needs, become more empowered and thereby bolster his own self esteem.  (in other words, evolve…. i.e. change….hahahahahaha…) then one stupid, jealous, half joke yesterday denuded him.  i could see straight down to his insecure, hurt heart.  it scared me.  it just scared me.  i’m the only one who knows it and i can’t really share it, but trust me.  it’s not healthy and it’s not well.  so i am not.

i’ve really tried a lot of avenues.  i have tried four antidepressants, sleep meds, and panic meds.  when my heart started jumping out of my chest i went to a cardiac ER.  i followed up with a cardiologist.  when they cleared me i saw an endocrinologist to test the rest of me and i came back well within “normal” again.  so, it’s all in MY head.  it’s on me to get right while i’m paralyzed and unwillingly anorexic and drinking too much and trying to avoid crawling right out of my skin.  there’s nothing wrong with me.  there’s nothing wrong with me.

so when the old bug gets in my ear and tells me what to do, i try my best to fight it off.  it’s just so hard to ignore the fact that i have been trapped by this criminal charge.  trapped by my husband in a marriage i didn’t want following a pregnancy i didn’t intend upon.  now the truly lovely part is here, our daughter, and i wouldn’t stand a chance in hell of even getting visitation because he threw me around again and the wrong police officers came to my house.  because he lied, and because i cried.  because there is no justice and life isn’t fair.  so it’s hard to weigh suicide or divorce.  and i try not to.  i try to tell myself that they are both out of my question.  that way i stay alive for her.

it’s not easy to stay alive for other people.  it’s not easy dealing in hypotheticals.  it’s not easy trying to survive the type of grief i have.  i will, i know i will.  this is just an ugly time for me.

Read Full Post »

Jacqueline Costadura needs your help to protect her daughter Brooklyn from her wealthy, powerful abusive father.
Gloria Cherry, the executive director of the Texas Council on Family Violence, has set up judicial education for Texas judges on the evils of Parental Alienation Syndrome (PAS). But, it isn’t going to happen before June 7.

What’s PAS?

PAS is an insidious manipulation of the legal system as an instrument of abuse.  Fathers quickly realize they’ll go to jail for physical assaults on mothers.

When they get out of jail, these guys are out for blood.  It doesn’t take them long to figure out that a much more effective way to terrorize and punish the mother is to launch a custody battle.  These monsters use their vulnerable, defenseless children like expendable pawns in a high-stakes, brutal game.

Little Brooklyn must be absolutely terrified.  She witnessed her father try to kill his ex-wife.  She knows her daddy spent only two hours in jail for attempted murder.

Because Ms. Costadura refused to drop the criminal charges against her ex-husband, he carried out his threat to gain custody of little Brooklyn.   You can watch her friend Dawn’s excellent Mother’s Day video by clicking here.

Jacqueline Got Creamed by the System

Ms. Costadura’s ex-husband has the wealth and power to manipulate the legal system as an instrument of abuse.  He has a network of fellow PAS monsters to help him craft a brutal strategy to destroy his ex-wife.

The mothers in PAS cases, however, have no place to go for shelter from this horrific abuse.  Most mothers lack the financial resources to fund litigation.  Most judges don’t recognize a PAS strategy.

PAS cases are complex.  Most mothers get creamed by the system.  Ms. Costadura has contacted all the non-profits and legal aid organizations that are supposed to protect her in a futile quest to seek justice and help.

Alone is a very terrifying place to be in the midst of a brutal PAS assault.  PAS monsters use every weapon in their exceedingly huge arsenal to terrorize the mothers until they have a nervous breakdown.  Then, they use this as evidence the mothers are unfit.

Ms. Costadura’s only “crimes” are that she is fiercely protective of her daughter and she doesn’t have the money to fund a custody battle against her wealthy, powerful ex-husband.  She has sacrificed everything ~ including her health ~ to try to protect little Brooklyn.

Be There to Stand Tall with Jacqueline on June 7

It is time to take a stand against the injustice and brutality of PAS.   Ms. Costadura is making a statement on behalf of all mothers who valiantly fight to protect their precious children from abusive monsters.

Some of you know about Vernetta Cockerham’s victory after RitaAnita Linger, the former executive director of the NC Coalition Against Domestic Violence, packed the Yadkin County courtroomClaudine Dombrowski followed in her footsteps and finally got a small measure of justice in her own PAS custody battle.

Texas is a rugged state for women seeking justice.  I’ve asked Gloria Cherry at the Texas Council on Family Violence to support Ms. Costadura.

If you live in the Austin, Texas area, please show up on June 7 at the 200th Judicial Court at 7:45 AM wearing purple and white.  Purple is the color of domestic violence.  White is for “silent no more.”

If you have a web site or blog, please publish this post ~ help get the word out that Brooklyn Jones needs our protection.

Look for Dawn with Purple and White Balloons

Ms. Costadura’s friend Dawn will be outside the courthouse at 7:45 holding purple and white balloons and passing out ribbons.  The hearing to modify temporary orders will start at 8:35 AM ~ please click on the name of the courthouse to link to driving directions:

Travis County Courthouse
1000 Guadalupe, 5th Floor
Austin, Texas 78701

Please be there if you can to stand tall for justice and to protect Brooklyn.  Thanks in advance!

Read Full Post »