StupidShittyLife

I can't even think of a title for this blog. I don't even want to be blogging but somehow it seems easier than dealing with emails asking me why I haven't been blogging or the dreaded "how are things going" emails....god I hate those. How the hell am I supposed to reply. How do you THINK things are going?!

It all started on Thursday. I was out shopping and my SIL called me on my cell to tell me that my daughter was on her way to the police station. She had been arrested for shoplifting makeup at Zellers in our local mall. Oh lovely. When I got home, there was a message from a police officer, so I called him back expecting it to be about the incident. It wasn't...it was about my Uncle, who is accused (and undoubtedly guilty) of molesting a child in my family. The officer wanted to come over and take a statement from me to see if there was anything I knew that could possibly help the case, which keeps being bounced back from Crown Counsel due to lack of evidence. So anyways, he came over and took my statement, which of course was heartwrenching and awful for me. To me, harming a child in that way is the unthinkable. It makes me physically ill.

Then, on Sunday, my SIL calls again and tells me that my daughter has just called her and is bawling her eyes out because she has nowhere to stay. She has lost her winter jacket and it is -35 outside. I took down the number she called from and my man called over there to see what was going on. Daughter was drunk and said that she needed help because she can't stop drinking and doing drugs. She claimed to have been on ecstacy every day for the last 30 days. How much truth to that I do not know, because she is a habitual liar and a drama queen. Horrible thing to say about my own flesh and blood, but I am just speaking the truth. She will say anything for sympathy lately. Well, sympathy is something she is NOT getting from me at this point. No fucking way am I playing into that. She has made this bed and in it she must lie. So we load everyone in the car in 30 below weather to go and get her. We pick her up from this shithole of a townhouse. She's drunk, her hair is dyed bleach blonde (from black last week, you can imagine how nice it looks) ...I can't even look at her. When I look at her, extremely unhealthy emotions boil up inside me. I said nothing as we drove her to the hospital's Youth Detox. I had already called ahead and reserved a bed for her. We get there and the doors are locked so we ring the buzzer and we wait. And wait. And wait. A good ten minutes in the freezing fucking cold, waiting to admit my 15 year old daughter for Detox. Not a real high point in my life, let me tell you. We walked in, I wrote down her Care Card number and we left. She shouted something at me as I was walking away, something about how I didn't fucking care anyways. Oh yeah right, this was how I wanted to spend my Sunday evening. I cried the whole way home and then cried myself to sleep.

Yesterday, SIL calls (she really needs a slap upside the head for being such a bearer of bad news) to tell me that a mutual friend of ours delivered her baby girl at 6.5 months along last week and buried her on Saturday. What the fuck. This world is one cruel place and if there is a God, he is one sadistic motherfucker. My heart goes out to her like you wouldn't believe. She has one 6 year old boy already and did NOT want any more babies, her first pregnancy was awful. She is divorced and remarried now and decided to have another because it was so important to her new man. I have to wonder if their relationship can handle something this devastating. She told SIL there is absolutely no way she will try again and that she is getting her tubes tied ASAP. Will he resent her for not trying again? Will she resent him for pushing her into a pregnancy that she didn't really want? What will happen to ME if I suffer yet another loss in a couple of months...???

And so today, I sit here still in my jammies, unshowered and not giving a shit about anything or anyone. I have spent the majority of the day laying in bed with severe stomach pain. Not sure if it is gastroitis that I have had previously from stress, as it feels MUCH more painful than that, but whatever it is it feels like I have been kicked right in the guts. I guess in reality life has kicked me in the guts. Now I just have to figure out how to get up and get on with it before it drags me down to the point of no return.