Morning y'all
I'm back. I don't want to be, Cat's still in the hospital, but I couldn't take anymore of Jason's bullshyt, so I had to go. Fuckin asshole. I swear to God that as soon as I can get my family moved back to Columbus, I am taking his ass back to mediation/court. I am so done dealing with him. I don't care what the lawyer costs...he had no right to intimidate or insult me out of my daughters sick room.
At any rate, Cat's doing all right, or was as of last night. SHe wasn't able to walk, but she put her robe and slippers on, and they stood her up and put her in a wheel chair, which I wheeled down to the toy room where she played with her brother and I. It was fun. Then I gave her a big hug and kiss, and she wheeled down to the front doors and we waved good bye. Hopefully she'll be walking today, so they can release her. Although I'm not sure she's not safer in the hospital than with that psycho, anal, son of a bitch. At any rate.
You know, everytime I have to go through shyt like this, I just feel so gawd damned old. It's like, I'm gaining all this strength, because I've dealt with shyt that is so fucked up for so long, the callouses are becoming a suit of armor. All I can do is sit inside and wonder passivly about why I'm not crying, or raging, or feeling the tumult. Is this what they call becoming mature? If it is, I'm really unsure that I wish to go any further. It rather disgusts me.
I hate him.
At any rate, Cat's doing all right, or was as of last night. SHe wasn't able to walk, but she put her robe and slippers on, and they stood her up and put her in a wheel chair, which I wheeled down to the toy room where she played with her brother and I. It was fun. Then I gave her a big hug and kiss, and she wheeled down to the front doors and we waved good bye. Hopefully she'll be walking today, so they can release her. Although I'm not sure she's not safer in the hospital than with that psycho, anal, son of a bitch. At any rate.
You know, everytime I have to go through shyt like this, I just feel so gawd damned old. It's like, I'm gaining all this strength, because I've dealt with shyt that is so fucked up for so long, the callouses are becoming a suit of armor. All I can do is sit inside and wonder passivly about why I'm not crying, or raging, or feeling the tumult. Is this what they call becoming mature? If it is, I'm really unsure that I wish to go any further. It rather disgusts me.
I hate him.