The last little bit

In April my friend Marie went into the local mental hospital, Brentwood.  She came to me one night and told me that her husband, Jack, had told her that after 14 years of marriage, he no longer loved her.  This sent her into a rage and she tried to kill herself.  Jack had stopped her.  Jack was going to put her in Brentwood so she might get better.  I asked her if she wanted me to help her pack.  She said, “Yes.”  I went across the street to help her pack. 

Marie would spend 10 days in Brentwood.  She was my best friend.  We spent almost every day together.  We had become friends no long before Momma Muriel died.  Her little wire hair Dachshund Buddy, would often wander across the street, threw my doggy door and into my bed.  I would call her and say, “You missing somebody?”  It was Marie who helped me get through many challenges in my life.  During those first few hard months after Momma Muriel died, I knew Marie would be coming over at 5 to drink a glass of wine with me.  I asked her to go to Novelle’s funeral with me, to make sure I didn’t spit in her coffin. 

Marie got mixed up in drugs. She came to me one day and told me she had a $200 a day meth habit, but that she had been clean for a few weeks.  I told her to stay clean or we would no longer be friends.  Slowly she would shut me out.  I knew she was back on drugs.

In April of 2014 I received a Facebook message from her.  I asked if she was done with drugs, and she told me she was.  She had been arrested and convicted on 3 felonies.  She had been clean for a year and a half.  Now clean to her was a relative term.  Marie was a drunk.  She would go threw a 5 liter box of wine in two days.  She stayed away from purple wines, because she drank so much it would turn her teeth purple.  She was also addicted to pain killers for her back and hip. 

Jack did pretty much everything for her.  Marie sat in her chair and drank most days.  Jack had bough her a car, and she had destroyed it.  She told me at one point, it had become a rolling meth lab.  We were both shocked when Jack told her he was no longer in love with her.  Jack was a great man of faith.  He told her he had been praying for two years, that he would fall back in love with her and it just never happened.  He would be willing to go to counseling, but was pretty sure he wanted a divorce.  After everything she had put him through, who could blame him. 

I was a wreck when Marie went to Brentwood.  I called her every day.  I had three or four panic attacks in that 10 day period.  I cried myself to sleep at night, more than once.  A week after Marie got home she was sitting at my kitchen table one night.  She began to tell me that she had breast cancer.  That they had found it with two blood test while she was at Brentwood.  They confirmed it with a mammography.  She then asked me how bad stage 3 was.  We were all pretty shaken up that night.  But something just did not sit well with me.  Her story did not seem plausible.  Why would they do all that at a psychiatric facility?  Could they?

I happened to have an appointment with my GYN the next morning.  I asked him some of these questions.  He told me there was no blood test for cancer.  And to have a mammography at a mental facility did not seem right.   Turns out it was all a lie.  When I confronted Jack with everything that had gone on, I asked him if she lied a lot.  Jack said, “Sometimes yes and sometimes no.” 

Everything came to a head the night Prince died, May 5^th, 2015.  I had taken Marie home from my house and confronted her there.  Buddy was still at my house.  Jay would drive over a bit later and bring Buddy home.  Prince wanted to ride with his dad.  We did not notice he was running after Jay.  I was outside, talking to Juno, when I heard Prince get hit on the road and scream.

We ran across the street.  He’s been hit, but he was not dead.  Marie had come out of her house, crying and asking what had happened.  Begging me to forgive her.   All of us took him back across the street to my house.  He was fading.  It would not be long.  Even if we floored it to the emergency vet, he would be dead by the time we arrived.  If he was going to die, let it be at home.  Juno and I lit some candles on my altar, burned some incense and called for the Gods and ancestors to come close.  We would need them now. 

Prince had been sick for about 6 weeks.  He had had what we thought was a heart attack one night.  I just woke up screaming and disorientated.  The next day the vet  diagnosed he with an enlarged heart. He was on medication, but he did not want to eat for us.  Every day was a struggle.  I wonder sometimes if Prince committed doggie suicide.  I wonder if he just didn’t want to live anymore.  Prince died in Jay’s arms an hour after being hit. This child who had been so abused and unwanted, passed in loving arms, and surrounded by his family.  We all took turns holding him.  We buried him the next day, next to Punka. 

Since his passing, we have built a little area I call “the grove.” around his and Punka’s graves, at Holda’s Well.  It is a small area covered in bricks, with seating places on either side.  Now I can sit with them alone, or with guests.  It is a great little peaceful spot, where I can listen and watch the birds and get internet reception on my tablet. 

I have not seen Marie since that night.  I do not blame her for Prince’s death.  I just want nothing to do with a liar.  I’ve had too many in my life.  Jay and I retain a good relationship with Jack and saw him recently. 

In June I had my year physical with my PCP.  I told him I was having terrible anxiety and several panic attacks a week.  He put me on Buspar and it has been a God send.  I have not felt this good since before Oma died when I was 6.  It took a few months to get me to feeling better.  August 6^th , I started writing again for the first time in many years.  I have written or edited almost every day since then. 

Ilsa

 

 

 

Goodbye Paige

I would watch Paige use men, and be used by them.  She brought one home named Kevin.  He stayed with us for a week.  Telling us he was going to remodel our bathroom for room and board.  We said that was great.  He tore apart my bathroom, and in the end stole over $1000 worth of tools from us.  When a person tells you that they are a 5 time felon, with warrants out for their arrest, and that they have stole in the past.  Believe them, and don’t let them in your house!  I had no idea until after he left that she had only been texting him for about 3 days before they met and shagged for the first time, or that he had been homeless.  He also seems to have had a drug problem.  He would take Paige’s car, at that point still legally my car, and disappear for hours at night.

The night Kevin left and we discovered everything that was missing, we of course called the cops.  Paige just laid in her room.  We met with the cop on the front porch, we were scared if he came in the house he would smell weed.  We hid that too.  We knew Paige had warrants out for her, because of old speeding tickets.  I did not want the cop to take her.  Finally he said, “I want to talk to her.”  He agreed he would take her in for her old warrants.  I went in to Paige who was laying in the room feeling sorry for herself, and told her to come out.   She refused.  I went out to the cop and told her she refused.  He said, “Either she comes out or I’m going in to get her.”  He believed her to be an accomplice in all of this, and she may very well have been.  I don’t know.  I went back and finally got her to come out.  Paige could be a hateful bitch, and gods was she one that night. 

The cop was polite to her and she was downright hateful, not mean, not rude, but downright hateful.  I have a problem with people who hate cops, since Jay’s Grandfather, Great-Grandfather, and Great Uncle were all police officers.  Given my history with Melinda and Paige, I have come to believe people who hate police, often have something to hide.

The Police officer asked for her birthday and full name.  She refused to give both.  Finally he told her, “Mam’ either you give me your birthday or I will hall you in for obstruction.”  Since I did not want that to happen, I told him both.  I should have let him take her.  Would have saved me so much trouble, but I didn’t.  Paige gave me this “go to hell” look, like you would not believe.  Didn’t she understand I was trying to save her???  She was mad at me for days after that.  They never did find our stuff or Kevin for that matter.  When I called the police later to discuss how the investigation was going, they told me they would also like to give me the number for Jerry Springer, because of how fucked up this shit was.

The next man she brought in, a few days later, was Vincent Stumblingbear. I will never forget him or his name.  He was a terrible drunk.  We went two rounds with him.  He promised to fix our bathroom for room and board as well.  We were hesitant, but said yes anyways.  He did lay most of the floor. I think he stayed a week.  Oh they were in love and they were going to get married.  Vincent was Native American.  Paige knew nothing of native peoples. She often insulted him and I had to correct her.  She told Vincent, “When we get married, why don’t you wear your regalia?” Which was totally insulting to him, regalia is for rituals and pow-wow, it is not a Halloween costume.  He and I both had to explain how insulting it was. Vincent had taken a shine to me, but then many of her fellows did. 

Vincent had only been here a few days when we came to understand he had a serious drinking problem.  One night he drank 2 fifths of vodka, another bottle of some purple liquid stuff that was not quite a fifth, and something else.  And he was still upright the next morning, when we found him.  He’d been wandering the woods all night long.  He had never been to bed.  Paige and him fought and he tried to hit her.  He stopped just in time.  It was enough to terrify me. 

Jay and I told Paige we wanted him gone, and he left.  But he would not stop calling.  Vincent promised to be a good boy, if he could come back, ‘cause he just loved Paige so much.  I begged Jay and finally he said yes.  I never told Jay about Vincent trying to hit Paige.  Jay told me later, if he had know that had happened, he would have never let him come back here. 

I told Vincent he could come back, but no alcohol.  I bought him beads to keep him busy.  I know that sounds condescending, but Vincent was a wonderful beadier and had been building regalia for years to support himself.  Vincent came back and made it 3 days with us.  He literally walked away.  He walked from my house, to the interstate, many miles away, and either caught a ride or walked back to his home more than an hour away. 

He showed back up a few days later, for his things.  Vincent, like many of Paige’s men, had a thing for me.  Many of her boyfriends, and I use that term loosely, thought Paige and I were a couple, and that they would get to fuck us both.  Vincent had proposed marriage to me at least twice.  I remained firm that I was happy where I was.  When he came to get his things, Paige was not here.  He hugged me a little too tight, and proposed to me again. 

I had been chopping vegetables when he came in.  When he left I grabbed a knife and ran and hid in the closet.  I flew into a panic attack and stayed in it, for what felt like hours. My pills did not help me that time.  I think I stayed in the closet until Paige found me like that, about two hours later.  Sorry my memory is a little fuzzy there.

In April of 2014, I would be robbed, proposed to twice and two old friends would come back into my life. Marie, you can read about her here in the last little bit, had messaged me on Facebook.  I had not seen her in a very long time.  I went to visit with her and when I came home, Paige was belligerent to me.  Telling me to get in the house and start doing house work.  She said, “I let you go and visit that woman.”  I was thinking, “Excuse me!  You let me!  Who the fuck do you think you are?”  but I said nothing as usual. 

Juno had messaged me a few days after Marie had, telling me I had been right about D & K all the time.  She said that she and Kay had a new home, they wanted to see me, and she was desperately sorry for what had happened between us.  I never expected that message.  I anxiously wanted to see her. 

When I got Juno’s message, I remember looking up from the phone at Paige and thinking, “I have my friends back now.  It’s time for you to leave bitch!”  The final straw came for me when one day she was mean to Tami.  Like I have told you before, you can do what you want to me, but when you start messing with friends, that’s it. I watched her fight with Tami.  I walked in the house to cool off and gather my thoughts.  I walked back out and let Paige have it.  I still don’t remember what I said to her.

Jay and I had no idea how to get her out of the house.  We knew she had nowhere to live, very little money, and that when she left there was a possibility she would take Jelly with her.  She and Jelly had become tight again, in the time she lived here.  I did not have the courage to tell her to get out, that I didn’t care what happened to her, and that she was not taking Jelly.  I wish to the Gods now I had.

Not long after our fight she began to date Dave, who worked in the café up the street.  The day after their first date he fell and broke his leg.  She came to me and said, “Dave fell and broke his leg.  I am going to go move in with him and take care of him.”  She did.  We called her soon after and said, we hoped the move would be permanent for her, and that she should come and get her stuff very soon.  She took Jelly with her. 

When Jay bought my new car in February of 2014 I had promised Paige my car. She had been driving it, for some time.  She had even started repairing it.  I saw Paige one more time, the day I sold her my car.  Jelly was I the back window.  It would be the last time I would ever see her.

Paige lived with Dave until September of 2014, when he threw her out.  She then went back to live with my parents.  They would spend over $3000 trying to help her out.   I was still not speaking to my mother at that time.  The whole time Jay had been begging me to go and get Jelly.  I said, “No.”  I was afraid of Paige that she would not give her back to us.  If she called the cops, I believed they would side with her.  Mom and Dad asked her to leave in December 2014.  She and I were still Facebook friends.  I got good and drunk one night, and told her what a bitch and what a slut she was.  I told her the only reason I was still friends with her on Facebook, was so I could keep tabs on Jelly.  She blocked me the next day.

Ten months later I have no idea where Paige is.  I have no idea if Jelly is alive or dead.  Many nights I kick myself.  I have no idea if Jelly is cold or hungry, no idea if she is being loved or has been passed off to someone else.  I wonder if she hates me?  If she goes to bed every night thinking her Momma gave her away?  Does she thinks she is bad or that she did something wrong?  I have no idea.  You have no idea how I weep for this child, or the guilt that consumes me because I would not fight for her.  I have finally had to give her to the Goddess.  I have begun lately to think of her as dead, and greave for her.  I have no way to tell her how sorry I am.  I may have to wait a lifetime, before I will ever find out what happened to her. I have tried to search for Paige on Facebook, so that I might poke around her page and check on Jelly.  But she seems to have left Facebook all together.  Even if I am not logged into Facebook I cannot find her. 

So you’ve got to be asking yourselves why does she telling me all these stories.  As I’ve written this timeline sequence I’ve asked myself the same thing.  I think I keep telling these tales not as a woe-is-me tale, but a warning to not be like me.  To stand up and fight for yourself, even if that means you might get knocked down by the consequences.  Mike, Mike D., Melinda, D and Paige, even Perro, all have taught me major lessons in life.  I think the biggest one is that you can’t save everyone.  You are not the Goddess!  It is not your job in life to take her place and try and save people.  My life has taught me, if you find someone you think you can help, DON’T!  You are impeding on the Goddesses work.  If you help them, they will never learn.  Yes you can save animals, you can save the rainforest, and you can save the earth, but you can’t save people.  They have to save themselves.  What you are trying to save them from is life lessons.  If the baby doesn’t fall, it never learns to walk.

I have always worn my heart on my sleeve.  I have had to learn to lock my heart away, and only let it out after a while.  With all of these people who have used me, you have to remember, I let them.  I have watched myself over the years go from being warm, bubby and gregarious to everyone I meet, to being slightly paranoid to meet anyone.  I have become hesitant of going out and slightly terrified crowds.  I have no idea if I make a new friend, when and if they will be the next to try and hurt me.  Everytime it happens, Jay and I sit in our little house and say, “Never again!  We will never help anyone else again!”

It sounds cruel, but you have to learn to protect yourself.  You don’t have to give away everything for your friends to like you.  They should like you for you, rich or poor.  If they don’t they are not worth your friendship.

Ilsa