Realization.

How do you know for sure that NO ONE gives a damn about you?

You'd think a post such as my previous one would've grabbed the smallest amount of attention. I am so fucking happy that I broke away for an hour to check my email while at the Rehabilitation Center. Which by the way, I've recieved no calls or emails. Isn't that wonderful?
You'd think my family would care, right? Incredible. And all of these people wonder why I have problems, when all the while it was they who put me here in the first place.

I no longer appreciate or feel any gratitude for my family or friends. You all can fuck off.


Sending all of my "love" from Passages.


Jocelyn

Regret.

I don't know what I'm thinking. I honestly do not even know what I am doing. It's 1:30 in the afternoon and I'm completely shitfaced. I have been for six straight days now.
Oh well, whatthefuckever, I'm getting this over with.
About a year ago, my husband and I were considering separation. This was only after a year and a half of marriage, mind you. We had dated for two years prior. It was a series of depressing events that pushed me over the edge.
New Years Eve of 2006, I lost my baby brother. He was killed in a drunk driving accident after leaving a family party early, completely sober. He was supposed to fly back to Palo Alto the next morning to get back to school. See, he was studying to be an Attorney, like our father. This two months before my wedding.
Anyway, I was completely devastated by his passing. I started taking anti-depressants. One of the prescriptions I was on (Zoloft) changed my mood terribly. But since I was oblivious that that, I still proceeded to take it anyway. I would constantly start screaming at Mark for no apparent reason. He works very hard and travels often. I began accusing him of cheating almost everytime he left town. He grew tired of it and told me he needed a break and also told me to find somewhere else to be for awhile.
Since I'm too old to just be staying with my parents, I went to Arizona and stayed with Mark's brother Jordan, which would normally seem awkward, but Jordan and Mark are not very close. One of my little brother's friends, moved out there so I would visit her a lot when she wasn't working. I think between the two of us, mostly just me, we'd go through two bottles of wine a night. We had some good times. When I wasn't with her, I was alone, drinking and upping my medical dosage. At that time, I didn't realize that it was Zoloft playing with my emotions, I thought it was just all me and that I was just sinking into a deeper and deeper hole.
I told all of my friends and family that I was out there working with new clients and honestly, I hardly left the house most of the time. Mark kept threatening that the wedding wasn't going to happen unless I got a grip on my life. He told my friend out there this, and she took his side entirely. That night, I decided to end it all by slicing my wrists in the bathtub. I called Mark and told him, he was in California where I knew he couldn't get away to help me. He hung up on me and called Jordan immediately. Then called my friend again. She left work early to go to Jordan's place. She took me to the emergency room and we had a long talk about things. I remember just being so angry at her, as if she were to blame for my problems. She had none. I hated her for being so beautiful, for being young, I hated that she was with a man who loved her and was always there for her, I hated everything.
I guess to speed things up, this friend I had, we grew close after my whole ordeal. I finally became aware that my medication was causing my mood swings and switched to a different one. Everything was okay for awhile. Mark and I got married, we got a new place together in Hollywood Hills. Our jobs were paying well and we even started talking about kids. Mark began getting some great leads with big name record labels. One was interested in my friend. Mark was excited. He flew to Arizona twice to discuss everything and did not allow me to go. I started feeling jealous again, but tried to get over it and not saying anything. Instead I would just argue with him about anything and everything. About a month later, I became the biggest hypocrite. I cheated. I slept with a guy I was infatuated with in college. I confessed this to Mark and he threw me out of our place.
This time I stayed with my parents. I started drinking heavily again, but switched from wine to hard liquor. I played around with my medications again. I also was able to find a doctor to prescribe me strong muscle relaxors so I could relax.
I kept tabs on Mark by constantly checking his emails. I felt that he must be seeing someone already, because he'd never answer my calls. His secretary even began lying to me on his whereabouts. I found an email from my so-called friend and Mark, back and forth about me being "crazy". And she gave him advice to leave me if he wasn't happy. When I called her, she denied it. I couldn't tell her how I knew, because I was afraid she would go straight to Mark about it. I also found many emails from these girls he told me were only prospective clients because they had no talent, offering to do many unmentionable things to him if he just gave them a couple of auditions. His replies were flirtatious and I did not see no for an answer anywhere.
I hit rockbottom. I wrote down all of those girl's names and information. I searched online and tried to find ways to destroy their reputations. I replied to them as Mark in an email, that they were no-talent skanks that would never get anywhere in life and to never speak to him again. I called AT&T and had their numbers blocked from calling his cell phone. I added their phone numbers to solicitor's list and even managed to create fake myspace/friendster accounts to make their boyfriends think they were cheating on them. I kind of enjoyed it, if that isn't sick enough. I'm not sure if Mark is aware that I did that or not, I haven't heard about those girls since and good riddance.
Now, a year ago...I wasn't getting better. I was still living with my parents and trying to reconcile with Mark. He said he just couldn't trust me and might hire an attorney for divorce. At this point, I was beyond self-medication. I was not only on an unimaginably high dosage of anti-depressants, I was also addicted to muscle relaxors. I'm not even sure how I've managed to survive. I was still drinking daily. My friend from Arizona came down to visit my cousins, who are all her age and she didn't bother visiting me. My cousin had a party at her parent's house and I chose not to go, Mark went. I tried to not get upset with my family over it, because in all honesty I did meet Mark through their band, he was their manager.
Get to the point, right? Everyone kept snickering and giggling the next day about how Mark is obessed with my friend and was drunk, telling her how "incredibly, mind-blowingly gorgeous" she was and if he could just have her be his number one (client, supposedly) that he'd be in Heaven. Apparently she replied "oh, but what about your crazy wife?!" I'm sure she was drunk as well and so my imagination went wild.
Instantly, I wanted to kill her. But for reasons like, going to jail or hell kept me from doing it. I figured I would just do to her, what I did to those skanks that were emailing my husband. I wanted to go further though. She had confided in me problems that she had in her relationship. I took full advantage of this. She was so trusting, I knew her email password from she forgot her flight info and needed me to get it to her. I copied all of her contacts and saved them to my computer. I knew all of her exes and I came up with a believable scheme and emailed her horrible things on a daily basis as one of her exes that I knew she thought was a pyscho. I told her things that I knew would hurt her. When she finally replied, she was nice. It angered me more, because it made me hate myself. I decided that I was going to destroy her relationship, because at that time I blamed her for mine. I'm not even sure now, how I came to that conclusion. I knew her boyfriend had a history, so I researched him. You can get anything over the internet if you're willing to pay $49 for it. I began harassing his ex, attempting to get them to talk again. I knew my friend would be unhappy about it, so I tried to get them to talk on a daily basis. I would laugh to myself, thinking of the arguements that I was causing. I figured in no time, her boyfriend would break up with her, she'd be back in California more of a mess than I was.
She almost lost her job over some of the things I did, I found out. I thought it was funny to email her company accusing her of horrible customer service, I sent at least five separate complaints. She called my cousin (her best friend) crying, I was there at the time. I could overhear her saying "I don't understand, I'm not a mean person. Why is someone trying to ruin my life?". I felt awful. So I stopped. She wrote her stalker an email (me) stating that she contacted the police and to expect a call from them. Which I did, and I told them I would stop.
After a bit, I would get bored and I was so used to doing such deviant things, I was addicted to the feeling. I started harassing my friend's boyfriend's ex. It was fun. I loved it, because I had no connection with her. I sent her anonymous text messages saying flat out rude comments. Turns out she's a big cunt too. Somewhere along the way, she came up with the notion that it was my friend harassing her, I was confused because I tried to make it seem like it could've been anyone. I think they were talking behind her back. I wrote my friend as her "stalker ex" admitting what I did and tried to tell her that her boyfriend is a big loser that is going behind her back. All of my hatred for my friend went away, I felt like the world's biggest bitch and knew she would not be happy if I told her the truth. So I never have, until now.
I heard that she tried to make amends with someone and that didn't work out. Which just drew up a lot of guilt and remorse in me. So, here it goes.
I am so, so, so sorry. You never, NEVER deserved to go through any of the awful things that I put you through. You backed me up when you shouldn't have and I took that for granted. I was in such a bad, bad place and you have to realize that who you knew for that short time wasn't the real me. I understand now that that is why you no longer wanted to talk to me. I never was a good friend to you, whenever you had an issue, I always turned the conversation back to myself. I am a terrible friend and you shouldn't forgive me. I pray you do and that everyone does, since this is public. I don't want to lose you, I never did. Which is why I couldn't tell you. I knew that once I did, things would never be the same afterward. You're an amazing person C.
I also want you and everyone to know, that this weekend I'm checking into a Rehabiliation Center and will be there for the next four months. I hope we can work things out when I get back.


Jocelyn

Nice try, Girlfriend.

You know those girls?
The ones you see when you are in line for a movie, or out to dinner, or at a birthday party of some college friend you barely talk to anymore. You can always hear them come in, super loud and giggly, and always ultra shiny and glossed up.
You know who they are. You’ve been introduced to them, oh, at least 500 times.
And yet…they only say hi to your husband.
Not you.
You could be naked, riding Osama Bin Laden bareback holding a burning crucifix and a two headed kitten, and she wouldn’t even know you were there.
I mean, until your husband introduces you for the 501st time, and she finally makes eye contact with you, long enough for you to see into her whore soul, and then she gushes about, giving you a fake compliment on something trivial, and goes into some lame story about how she knows your husband, which always amounts to her dating one of his friends a million years ago, and there is always some funny incident at a bar that she never quite goes into detail about, but you totally know is the night she got drunk, pissed her pants, and then all the guys had to listen to the lovely pair having sex back at their dorm for an hour while she brayed like a donkey.
But she doesn’t know you know that part.
So, you just smile, nodding your head, readjusting your huge sparkly wedding rings, rubbing your adorable baby belly, as she playfully swats at your husband for a few more minutes until she sees some fresh male genitalia walk through the door, and she jets off to greet it, leaving pink glitter in her wake.
So yeah, those girls.
Where is their self respect? Where is their sense of womanhood? And where the fuck is the top button to the shirt they always leave half open!?
I fucking hate those girls.
Not because they make me jealous or insecure, which , honestly, may have been the case, say 5 or so years ago, but now, I am too tired to be jealous. I obviously have no problems with my milkshake bringing the boys to the yard.
But those girls, Jesus Christ, those girls. I hate them because they are stupid, a complete embarrassment to women. And, I am not even a big ‘ole feminist. Hell, I wish it were 1950, so I could pad around my house half drunk in a frilly apron, with 5 kids, a dog and some guy leaving milk on my doorstep every morning. But, in today’s changing society, if the only thing you bring to the table is tying a cherry stem into a knot with your tongue, you need to reevaluate your shit.
Here is my advice, silly, silly girls. All men are fun one night at a bar. It’s when the one night at a bar turns into 10 years of mortgage payments, job changes, in laws, babies…now that is something worth bragging about.
Besides, I can knot a cherry stem in 6 seconds flat, and you don’t want to see what I can do with a banana.
Now excuse us, but we really must go, I am craving a vanilla milkshake from McDonalds, and I need some privacy so I can finally undo the rubber band keeping my pants on, and scratch all the new, itchy stretch marks on my belly.

Soda Pop Fizz.

Sweet, fizzy, and refreshing.
Like a Fountain Soda. A Cherry Coke! Man, I LOVE Cherry Coke.
That's how we started out.
That's what our dates were. Every one. A Cherry Coke. Sweet. Fizzy. Refreshing. And good. Really good.
It's just that I barely drink soda anymore. It gives me gas. And it so often has a really bad after taste. And to be honest, I haven't had a REAL fountain soda in - man this is embarrassing - since junior year of college which was about 5 years ago, now.
And in a lot of ways even THAT soda wasn't a REAL fountain soda. So now, given that it's been a while and I'm actually doing quite fine without the REAL stuff, I'm kind of picky. I mean, THIS was fountain soda. He - Me - we aren't crappy cans of storebrand pop that's sold individually. We're both pretty high end. Gourment, if you will. It just turns out that neither one of us is that big of a Chery Coke fan. He called tonight. But I missed the call. He didn't leave a message. And it hurts more than I thought it would. I guess that the only way to explain it is that last week, we went out to a local bar... neither one of us felt like having much to drink. And as the days have passed, we've had less things to talked about. There's hardly any interest in one another's thoughts, or doings. And the passion has diminished. Our love has become like a flat soda.
Late Friday night my cell phone started beeping. I had a new message. And it was from The Homeowner. He wanted to know if I was free for dinner.
Lesson Learned: Never let a cell phone company ruin a relationship.
We had dinner last night. And as we drove around Los Angeles trying to find a parking spot, I asked if I could have a sip of the soda that was in the cup holder of his car.
He said it was kind of old and flat.... (If he only knew...) And it just brought back a lot of the old annoyances that I had with him while in our relationship.
He grabbed the soda as we were getting out of the car, and he tossed it into a nearby trash can. Which was exactly what I was thinking.
Dinner was GREAT. He was OKAY. I am... an over-analyzer.
But I think I'm closer to reaching peace. I don't know if this relationship is going anywhere - Hell, I don't know if I want it to go anywhere. And (because I'm immature and I've been reluctant to ask him what HE thinks about all of this) I don't know if he wants it to go anywhere, either.
But I think it's perfectly acceptable to classify "Dinner" as a destination. Dinner is one destination we're definitely heading towards again. And that suits me perfectly. It's always great to re-fizz.

Appreciation.

My Mom & James

My mom is the most amazing human being. She's strong, intelligent, beautiful and motivated. She's been the greatest role model and mentor.

She has always taught me that life is as great as you make it, no matter how bad the situation may seem. My mom gave birth to me when she was just 18 years old. My bioligical father was a physically and mentally abusive jerk. And she developed the courage to leave him and raise me as a single mother.

While I was just an infant, my mother was working on her medical degree. My grandparents took care of me while she was in school and my mother always made sure not to ignore me for her studies. She was so incredibly balanced. My grandma even told me that she would keep me next to her desk while she did her homework and hold me until I fell asleep and she did as well. And she never missed a day of school.

When I was just barely old enough to be in kindergarten, she met James Reese.

He was a part-time comedian and focused pre-law student.

On their 2nd date, he asked to go to a place for the 3 of us. He told her that she's a package deal and he wants to make us both happy. And I fell in love with him faster than she did!
They were married a year later.

He was the greatest Dad to me and still is to this day. He would play with me until we were both worn out. He'd stay up late reading to me, so that my mom could finish homework. Now, my mom is a successful Neurosurgeon and my dad is a successful Malpractice Attorney in California. I think whaloved the most about growing up with them is that I had no idea how successful they were or how busy they were because they never neglected me or my brother Mickey. I feel so very fortunate to be raised by such wonderful, loving people. To this day I don't think they realize how much I love them. And also how much I appreciate what they've done for me.

Introduction.

I'm not sure what to really blog about, but I'm sure as time goes on things will come to me. This entire week is going to be filled with music lessons for my clients, marriage counseling with Mark and not to mention a lot of precious family time with my favorite cousins.
I'm glad you're home Casey!!! You're my favorite cousin and our family's superstar.

And a shoutout to my girl Chels, since she's my only blogging bestie. Love ya babe!

Much more to came later,

Jocelyn