…the deconstruction of a once sane existence


My Little Drama

~~~Ok, so a quick note on this post – I had drafted it back on 11/28/10, but somehow didn’t post it, so I figured I might as well go ahead and post it, for what it’s worth~~~


So, the other week (on a Sunday) we sprung a leak in the bathroom – more precisely the water line leading to the toilet.  I was silently freaking out (as usual), trying to figure out a way to fix the damn thing.  T (Tony) was being oblivious to the whole situation, being hands off (as usual).

Now the reason for my freakage was because I can never predict what his reaction will be.  More times then not he finds a way to blame me for the situation and tells me to “deal with it” – on my own of course.  So Monday morning I went on the hunt for plumber’s putty, hoping that I could fix it on my own.  Took a few stores, but I finally found some, and spent the next four hours trying to plug up this leak that was not only making a small pond in the bathroom, but was also forming a small stream in the kitchen (they share a wall and water was flowing under the wall – don’t ask).

By this time I was on the verge of tears, worried what his reaction would be, and had to concede that I was not going to be able to fix it myself.  I IM’d T, resigned to be ridiculed for my obvious inability to fix it myself, but lord and behold, he was understanding, nonjudgmental,  and simply responded that I should call the plumber.

WOW!!  Was NOT expecting that response – no name calling, no complaining about having to pay someone to come in and fix it, no sneering or being snide; just nicely saying that it probably was an easy fix, and that I will have to clean up.  Period, the end, stick a fork in it.  I was left speechless, and pleasantly surprised – the knot that was residing in the pit of my stomach suddenly dissolved and it seemed like the heavens opened and up and sunshine was bathing me in its warmth (too melodramatic? LOL).

Well, anyways, that was my little drama with the bathroom leak.  Might not seem all that much to an observer, but to me it was a bit traumatic, riddled with worse-case-scenarios, but in the end, not so bad 🙂 !




Well, I seem to be spiraling yet again into a pit of despair and depression.  Or is it just a giant pity party I’m throwing for myself?  Who knows.  Wondering if I can wait three more years to end it.  Ahh, that’s right, I haven’t had a chance to explain my plan.  See, I have a fifteen year old son living at home, and I am waiting for him to get out on his own to put myself out of my misery – can’t leave him alone with my sadistic husband, see.  Thinking that I could even just get him situated with one of his grandparents and that will due.  Well, I have a few years to get to straightened and set up.  (I feel a rant coming on…)

Every time I let my guard down and let someone in, it always bites me on the ass.  When will I ever learn?  I mean seriously, you would think that I would have learned by now.  I swear, they wait ‘til they think they have gotten you to get your guard down, then ZOAWY!  They go for the hurt, relishing in seeing you retch in anguish.   Well, plugging up that hole the wall again, and it’s not gonna budge this time.  Gonna tuck myself even further down into the depth of my pain and despair.

Now all I’m hoping for is for everything to be deadened – if I can’t feel anything, then I don’t have to feel the pain and hurt that chews away at my existence.  Right now I am feeling WAY too much.  Can’t seem to reel it in and control it like I usually do.  It’s my fault really.  I left myself vulnerable to being hurt.  Note to self: not matter how much I think that I can trust, DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT ALLOW!!! (Danger Will Robertson! Danger! LOL)

(Definitely a rant with a very large portion of pity!)


The Players

It occurred to me that I should first introduce the players in the drama I call my life, so here goes:

Me (Marie) – a 45 year old wife of 26 years, mother of two boys

Tony – my husband of 26 years

Anthony – my first born, 26 years old, enlisted in the Air force for the last seven and a half years

Adam – my youngest boy, fifteen years old


There are other characters that are worth mentioning:

David – my dad

Gail – step mom

Ruth – sister

Phillip – brother

Henry – brother #2

Debbie – step sister

Patty – step sister #2


You will notice one name left out, my mother, Marina.  She died nearly fifteen years ago at the age of 58.  Technically on the death certificate the end reason was breast cancer, though not a scrap of it was found in her body at the time of her death.  System/heart failure due to her becoming septic due to infection due to chemo due to breast cancer.  So you could say she beat the cancer, but the cure beat her.

Now there are others that will be introduced later as needed, but that will be for another time, i.e. in-laws and nieces and nephews and friends (not my friends – I don’t have any).

So, there ya go, a few of the names associated with my life.  Now at least you will know who someone is when I mention them in some rant, LOL.


Hello world!

So, what to say…well, I started this as a place to put down my thoughts, feelings, and events of my life.  Basically a journal, a record of my existence, so if the need ever arises, one might be able to navigate through the maze of my altered sanity.  That being said, let’s see if I can give a few tidbits:


First off, though Marie is my middle name, I prefer it to my first, so that’s the name I use.


Second, this will probably be a hodge-podge of things from my life, including some ramblings that may be disturbing to some, so be fore-warned.


And third, this, I think, will be my attempt at creating a witness to my life, such as it is – the good the bad and the shocking.