The Real Me

SD called me back yesterday. And jumped my shit and down my throat. I had learned a long time ago to not let him get to me. Its his way of controlling me. I know this. But he caught me tired, sick, and distracted. He struck when the iron was hot. I'm sure he would like you all to know what kind of person I really am... so here it is. 1. I'm lazy and sloven. 2. I'm making Nate my slave. 3. I'm just like my mother. 4. The only reason Nate is on medication is because I don't want to discipline him. 5. I took away his right to discipline Nate. Other things: Giving Nate responsibility and the opportunity to earn money by cleaning out the litterboxes , taking out the garbage, and putting food and water down for the cats is just me being lazy. No son of his should ever pick up cat shit. I should cater to his every whim while still teaching him the value of a dollar earned. He should have no responsibility yet learn responsibility and respect. The only good discipline is a beating. He's watching my house and he's going to call Child Protective Services if he ever hears of his son being forced to clean out the litterboxes to earn extra money. I'm not paying him enough. (Obviously I'm a cheap slave driver as well.) And what did I do? I lost it. If I could have gotten through the phone, I'd be blogging from jail. No doubt in my mind. Its not the first time that I've allowed him to get to me. But it is the first time I've allowed it to this extend. I had to close the door to my office... right before I bellowed, "SHUT. UP!" That coming from the fact that everytime I tried to say something he would just talk over top of me. Other times that this has happened, I just go to the alley and I smoke and I pace and I cuss, I call AZ sometimes. I was well beyond that today. I gathered the papers that I needed to fax, turned off my computer, put my coat on, and headed out. My esteemed colleagues, including my office manager, were all standing by the copier/scanner/fax machine. I'm sure they heard more than enough through the walls. Sissy looked at me and started to ask, "Are you okay?'' I'm sure she meant to but it died out somewhere around "o." Her eyes were wide. I've been told I can be quite intimidating when I'm really mad. I wasn't really mad. I was in a blinding rage. I barely remember faxing my papers. I just know that I said, "I have to go," and I left. No one tried to stop me. No one asked if I was coming back. No one said anything. Hopefully, I'll have a job tomorrow. I normally don't stand up and walk out on my job at 2:15 in the afternoon. Either my boss will be extremely upset with me, somewhat irritated, or he'll want all the good gossip. You just never know with him. I really, really hope I have a job tomorrow. Its amazing what a situation like this will bring up in you. All those onion layers you thought were discarded. I hated myself. And I hated myself more, because I hated myself. My self-esteem hangs by a fragile thread. I am well aware of my faults yet to have someone drown you in them is an entirely different matter. Not that I didn't try to have my say but it escalated so quickly, I wasn't able to get a handle on it. I went from 0 to a thousand in two minutes. I know why he did it. It was to make himself feel better. I mean, how dare I question him as to what the hell happened over the weekend? How dare I tell him that I disagreed with his GF's "discipline." How dare I??? He brought up things that happened between three and five years ago. You know, how I dared to take Nate away from him when I had photographic proof of his handprint bruised on Nate's ass. I mean how dare I? Yeah, I'm a slob. I never throw anything away. I have enough papers in my house to feed a bonfire for a week, maybe two. Yeah, I've had a sick cat who hasn't made it to the litterbox in time more than once in the past two weeks so yeah, we've had some nasty surprises that I've had to clean up. (He's dying guys. He was eating and how he's stopped again. He won't even eat canned food.) I'm lazy as I can be. I mean, I sat on my ass on the couch today beside of Nate while he completed 29 pages of past due work. I suppose I should have just walked back to my filthy kitchen and started cleaning again, not worrying about whether or not he got it done. Not to mention, Nate asked that I stay with him. Even as I was going through a pile of papers in the same room, it just wasn't the same... he needed me beside of him. Guilty as charged. Yep... I sat on my ass after I put Nate to bed and made out 23 Valentine's cards (the one's I bought) and counted out 23 suckers (the one's I bought) because Nate didn't have time. I also made his Valentine holder because, yep, he didn't get it done at school because he hadn't got his other work done. I told him I would because I wanted him to work on the important stuff. Guilty man, guilty as fucking sin. So, there you have it. My house is a disaster area. I'm a lazy cunt who wants to turn my son into a slave. I never discipline him so I put him on medication. Yeah. Tomorrow I'll tell you about the locket.