Sunday, January 29, 2006

Of The Wonderful Past Wreckage - Volume 5

This goes out to someone very special to me. I have learned over the years that the best way to help someone in a time of need is to simply show them that you understand, relate, and share your stories, so that in the end you don’t feel so alone. This is why I blog you see, so that in the end as I emote the things that happen to me that hopefully someone will come along and say “Yes, I under stand that, this is how it kinda happened to me, and this is what I did to feel better” and it usually works, so here is a whole pile of tales that I have already shared put together in a different format, so that some of you can understand what it is like to be the strong, forgotten ones.

This all centers around one of my “My name is Jeremy and I am a Drunk” blog entries {number 3 I’m pretty sure} which was the one I made the biggest joke out of as the other ones were pretty serious. It is in my nature to use humor to get the words out, if you haven’t noticed, and although my grandfathers funeral was very funny if you look at from an outsider the tensions going on in my family were mind numbing. I had touched on how my ex wife decided to use that venue to tell the whole family that I was having an affair, and even though it was a counter affair, the things going on in my family I didn’t really touch on at all.

When my grandfather died the worst to come out of it was that his two daughters came back home. My mother and my aunt had been totally estranged from the family {including me} for well over 20 years at the time, and as far as I was concerned they could stay that way. My mother had made it well known that we all were not good enough for her and her connected theatre and television friends. My aunt was quite entrenched in her family {the Greek Mafia, as I have called them} and had no time to visit or be around any of us. Timing was everything you see, because my mother had finally ran out of money and looks and my aunt had to finally face the reality of her husband never being faithful to her. My poor widow of a grandmother {Greektradgedius Inyiddish} made a perfect place for them to retire.

Now I had always been the one to take care of things around here, but with my marriage problems going on my mother seized upon this as a way to get me cast out of the family. I had spent the better part of the last 4 years dealing with all of the extraneous bullshit around here while she was jetting back and forth between New York City and Las Vegas pretending to be famous, so at first I was rather perturbed and simply let her have it all. I would come along and clean it all up afterwards, like I always do because it is just easier than trying to maneuver around a soulless harpy then to fight them while they commit their sins. What ended up happening was that for the next 9 months I was totally disowned by them all. My ex wife was still allowed to go over there and pretend that she was part of the family with my former best friend that moved in with her the day we broke up, but that didn’t add up to anything in all of their minds.

It was on my grandmothers 70th birthday that I started to become angry about these things, because they had a huge party at the Moose Lodge {yeah we’re hicks I told you that} and I was specifically not invited, and later at my own birthday nobody acknowledged it, so I finally gave up on all of them and moved away with my new wife who had our first child on the way {Captain ADHD} to Dover. It was only about 30 minutes away but it was far enough to not be around it all.

My mother took care of all of my grandmothers affairs for her, and didn’t do to bad of a job really except for one thing, she was so emotionally abusive about it all from her own psychosis of what she perceived the past to be. In her mind she was still very angry at her father for taking my fathers side on the custody battle, and also secretly hated my grandmother for being my mother in her absence. Most women when they have a reality moment over their inability to parent and see that their children were at the very least taken care of, tend to be grateful, but not princess tinsel, she simply changed the stories around in her mind to give her the greatest self service to her own need for pity. I happened to be married to the other woman exactly like her at the time as well. When Captain ADHD was born, my mother had to admit my existence and came to the hospital to at least proclaim that he wasn’t mine. She then told everyone that she did that because she cared.

A year went by where I would at least visit the house so that my grandmother, my aunt and my mother could see the kids {as I had just adopted Lazius Boycrazius, it was now kids} and the day that we had the news, which at the time I thought was great news, that Imtoocutus was on the way. I cannot even explain properly the reaction that my mother had, and if you know me at all that is saying a lot, but I will try to do it some justice, before I explain my reaction. I should also warn you that the language is about to get harsh.

“I fucking knew you were going to do this Debbie!” she barked out immediately, and the tears just started flowing down her face. My reaction was not very good, “You would call here all the time and tell me that you were going to get pregnant, you fucking whore!”

Needless to say I was livid, regardless of what I or anyone else thought about her at the time or later on, you simply do not talk to your son’s wife, and the mother of your grandchildren that way. I totally flipped on her, and to even go into the tirade of things I said is pointless, but I made it very well known that I have good experience at what a lousy mother is, and she was now making a total ass of herself right in front of me. After I sent my wife out to the car, I went in for the kill. You don’t spend 30 years in this family without acquiring a black belt in emotional abuse, and she was about to get all 6 or 7 degrees of it.

“To insinuate, that your opinion is worthy, or necessary is more infantile than anything you have ever done thus far, and if you ever talk to my wife that way again, I will punch you, because you have never earned the respect that a man gives his mother anyway. Why don’t you go back to New York, where you can pretend to be someone? Here in New Hampshire you are nobody, and becoming more so every fucking day!” and I walked out slamming the door behind me, with every intention of never walking through it again. My grandmother and aunt who were sitting there for the whole thing silent apparently continued on her after I left, and within weeks she had moved out and gone back to New York.

Within the next year and a half I had come down with the chicken pox that almost killed me, and my wife left. As always in my life, not one family member visited me in the hospital, including my wife {she was too busy fucking Josh … lol} and when I got out of the hospital it was weeks before I moved into my new house alone, and I lived there for a year with several room mates to pay the bills. That was when I finally had enough of living around here and ran off to New York after selling my house and buying my grandmothers from her, because she never recovered from all the financial chaos that had ensued from her house guests. She was working 40 hours a week and could barely walk at the age of 73, so as always I did the right thing. She took the money that was left over from paying the debt off, and gave it to her daughters. The oldest {meaning my mother} still sits in New York, with the restaurant she bought with that money crying about how nobody loves her ;8o)

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Nothing that was printed here was intended to offend anyone, and if it did, fuck ya, you begged for it. If you believe that there are some measures that can be taken to change me, then please feel free to pray for me, and while you are at it yourself, because you read this far, and if you hated every minute of it, then you are an idiot, not me, or the other people who like what I have to say! ..

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Jeremy Fink and The Crow's Nest