Category Archives: Completely retarded families

Catriona in the cow field 

My better half had this weird thing with winning me cows from various fairs, machines, and weird game stands. I don’t even know how it started. Lol. We had two particular stuffed cows that were my favorite Henfers. (Better Half named all cows “Hefner”, it was hilarious). One was obnoxiously large and round. The other was so tiny, you couldn’t help but laugh at the sheer ridiculousness. Both Hefners lived on our bed for years. 

Unfortunately, I only have one Hefner left. The small one. It’s now locked in a box I had made for my son….I will go into that another time… 

Every cow I received had this goofy friggen look on its face. The kind you could be Earth-Shatteringly-Angry, and still couldn’t keep a straight face if you saw one of these things. So, as you can imagine I can’t see a cow, even a real cow, without laughing like an idiot. Every. Damn. Time. It’s made worse if the cow desides to throw a “Moo” at me. I can’t see a cow, or hear a cow, without smiling like an idiot. 

Annnnnddddd then there’s the part where I live close to cows pastures.  I can’t really go anywhere without seeing a cow. It’s a bit obnoxious, really. Even my son has started to notice. We’ve been taking long walks lately, and just sort of exploring. Recently he looked up and said “MOM! Hefner got huge!”.  I laughed, the cows started Mooing, we laughed more… I had to eventually pull us away. Which really proved hard, as their were cow fields on both sides of us for a good twenty minutes. Anyone passing us by would have thought we were nuts. 

It’s been over a year since she died. Yeah guys; I said she. 

The thing about me coming back to writing is that while I was away… We will say “someone”…  decided that stalking me on the internet, cloning my media sites, posting fake nudes… Yeah, you read that right…. Throwing all of my private information (including the town I live in, my son’s name and nick names, my business information, including this blog) out in the open while at the same time harassing anyone and everyone they could. The idea was to ruin my reputation. The idea was  to pop the safe little bubble I had created to protect my son and myself from the internet… Because parenting, and privacy… However it didn’t work. Those who knew me laughed and kept on truckin’. Those who didn’t know me, sort of shook their heads in disgust,  but came back to me with questions.. Concerns.. Because what was posted and said was so bizarre. In the end none of it matters other than I no longer have the privacy I once had, and really at this point: fuck it. LMAO

 You see, if you have been following me regularly I generally use gender neutral pronouns for my better half. Was I ashamed, you ask? Hell no! I didn’t want readers to get stuck on WORDS. I didn’t want it to be even more obvious of who I was. Lol. I skimmed over things that would easily identify me. But, “someone” has made it so that it is easily tracible to who I am. So, from now on, it’s going to be all out in the open… Watch out internet, BECAUSE NOW I REALLY HAVE NO FILTER! LMAO

So, join me on this new journey of letting it all hang out… And finally knitting some penis socks. 

Catriona 

XOXOXOXOX

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Floating around in nothingness.

I’m having such a hard time with life. My marriage was a disaster in the end. It truly was. But, the first few years before she became ill were fantastic. I’m not even sure what I am doing any more.

 

I’m wounded.

Probably more than I’ve ever been in my life. As of February 8th, two years ago, I clutched the phone with my head and shoulder as I pulled the lifeless body of my wife from our bed to the floor for resuscitation.. A day I see every day, several times a day, when both awake and asleep, relentlessly. Treatment for the subsequent PTSD and anxiety disorders are a joke. Even my doctors have called it, collectively. She was the only person I ever truly loved aside from my son. My wife was without oxygen for a damaging amount of time, something they told me while I stood in the ICU for a week could take her away from us mentally, physically, or both.

When she eventually woke, she was no longer my wife. The person I brought back from death wasn’t MY wife at all. And even tho she lived, I swear I died in that room that day. Our situation both before and after that day broke me. I cried everyday where she couldn’t see because I couldn’t help her, because no one could help us, Because she was so messed up, because I was so messed up. I broke under the pressure. She beat on me emotionally and physically because of her issues, yet I would do it again, truly I would. I know she knew what she was doing half the time. And the other half I think her soul was being called somewhere else and she had no idea what she was doing. She told me the day I moved out that we would be married again some day, that we needed to heal apart, that she loved me, that it was killing her to see me go. Months later I could see both deep love and deep hate in her eyes. We got worse apart, not better. I truly believed one day I’d get MY wife back, some day, maybe years but, maybe one day. I would have walked thru hell (and in some ways I did) to heal her, to have kept her, MY HER. After years of failing to help her I was resentful because I was drowning/hurting/helpless and couldn’t see the light. I made mistakes at the end of our relationship. Not the ones I was accused of, but mistakes nonetheless. I will carry them with me everyday. A few weeks ago, short of the two year mark, she died.

She was no longer my wife, or mine in any way.

My son’s other parent is gone, and when I got home I had to tell him while holding my shredded heart in my hands, while trying to hold his together. Through all the hurt, though all the pain, if given the choice I’d walk through hell,  blind if need be,  to find her and drag her out. I’d do it every day if I could have back the woman I fell in love with so many years ago.

Don’t waste time, it’s running out. 

Due to my wife’s illness, and perception of the situation, coupled with a former “Friend” of mine crossing lines and contacting my wife out of anger for me, saying who knows what – I wasn’t even made aware when she died. My son did not get to say good bye, they would not allow him at the service, or speak to us at all. My Wife and I weren’t on bad terms. But, someone trying to hurt me ended up hurting my son more. My son lost his mom, and his Grandmother in the same week, and was left on the sidelines all because of vengeance.

You never know who people are. Even if you have known them for years. I cannot even believe the things that have transpired.

Hold your loved ones. Tell your friends how much they mean to you. Identify and walk away from the ones that truly aren’t your friends. Tell the people in your life you love them once a day.

life with my wife toward the end was a horror show. I used this site as an outlet for my anger always thinking that in the end I would be able to write about the good things that would happen in the future. It was always my hope that she would get it together, and be around for my son. I know it was a long shot. I know it was stupid. but, I always had a spark of hope.

That hope died when she did.

My son is shattered.

But, everyday we talk about one good memory we shared with her. Some times the only way out, is though.

OXOXOXO

Catriona

 

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Understanding (underestimating?) PTSD

Feb will be two years that PTSD and I have been together.

And you know what? There are still days and months that are just like the first week of Hell that ensued after that day. I’ve been diagnosed with PTSD “Comparable to soldiers coming home from Iraq”. That’s an actual sentence from my Medical record. Do you know how horrible just that sentence is? I didn’t fight in a war. Though, I now have one in my head. Almost two years, and EVERY DAY I still have issues. Every day. Every day, that one single day plays in my head, over and over, or it echos in my ears, or both. Everyday I fight my own head just to breath. Everyday I wake up, take a deep breath, and try to make it better than the last. You know what happens? I fail more than half the time, haha…And telling me I need to “be more positive” only shows that you’ve got no clue what PTSD is. Lmao.

PTSD is having the BEST convo with my son, after having had the best day together, then all of a sudden I’m crossing through a 4 Lane crosswalk, holding my son’s hand, when my PTSD decides for NO REASON at all, to take over both my vision and hearing.

Yeah.

It’s being curled up in the lap of a friend, for over an hour,  as he tries to hold you so close that you KNOW it’s hurting HIM, as you cry because you’re Ex wife text you something stupid, after an already trigger filled day.

Yeah.

You know what I’ve learned in the last year and half?
A.) Most people sincerely THINK they know what PTSD is.
B.) Most people are wrong.
C.) I’m not crazy. Sorta. Ha.
Annnnnnd worst of all D.) Most people, even if they care, don’t do much research. Why? See A.

This article is one of the best I’ve read, and I’ve read many. So, imma leave it right HERE.

Now excuse me while I go try pretend to sleep. Lmao.

Catriona

XOXOXO

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Accidental Art installation By Gram

Today Sucked.

However when I came home from picking up my child I opened the door to the smell of burning plastic.

Which, really, can only mean two things: 1. Grams gotten into the Crack again, or 2. Gram forgot about the bread in the oven and turned it on, again.

 

To my surprise is wasn’t Crack (OK, kidding. My Gram wouldn’t even know what that was).

Fresh Baked Bread, anyone?

LMAO

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Goodnight friends

OXOXO

Catriona

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Just add it to the list.

So you guys know the Universe and I have been fighting.

In Feb I spent a week in the ICU with Drs telling me that my significant other had lost too much oxygen, they weren’t sure there was any brain activity. I had managed to resuscitate before the EMTs showed up, but it took over a week to see brain activity. That person that I brought back isn’t the one I married.

Also in Feb, my close friend lost his leg, had two heart attacks, and lost a part of his mind along the way.

That same month, my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer for the fourth time. This one being the one the Drs said would finally get her.

I was diagnosed with PTSD, so was my son as a result of finding a dead body in my bed.

I had been taking care of this person for three years, on Feb 8th that person died. What I brought back was a nightmare. Now, I am not saying that the three years prior was a cake walk. I took care of everything. The Money, the bills, the house, the animals, the child, the homework, the volunteering at the school, everything. There wasn’t a thing that wasn’t my responsibility. But after Feb our house became volatile. Hostile. Terrible. Horrid. And, I was still taking care of everything. I was being treated in ways I wont disclose.

Last week, I packed up my son without notice and brought him to live with his grandparents while I pack up the house.

I’m losing/lost everything. My mother, my friend, my sister. My marriage, my house. When I moved in here this house was a WRECK. like WHOA. I built this house that I am leaving. I trained the dog I can’t keep. I am leaving here with nothing; oh wait I get to keep the kitchen table.  I’m losing all the effort, everything I worked for.

I’m leaving here with HORRID credit b/c there were medical supplies, and insurance that HAD to be obtained, so I let my personal bills go. I’ve sold everything to take care of it all. Granted, I don’t pay rent any more here – this is my Mother in laws house that we had planned on buying, and I have worked damn hard on it. But, I think being a nurse to someone for three years, paying for everything else, and taking care of EVERYTHING evens that out a bit (It doesn’t ask them both).

However, what little I do have left that was valuable, my electronics, is been kept here.  My Ex using the line “This is mine b/c of all they money YOU owe my mother.” At first I was going to fight it, now I am just letting it all go. It’s not worth the fight. I have my kid, and his stuff. That is all that matters.

I’m leaving with the loss of the life I built for my family, for my son. I’m leaving with the damage that has been done to my son. The loss of  my dog, my two cats, my credit, my personal possessions, and all I get to keep is the kitchen table, and the PTSD.

And to top it all off, my son’s other parent couldn’t get out of bed for the last three years, but came home with a brand new 700.00 cell phone last week, and is on vacation right now (getting hammered a friend) while I wait and pray to the stars that the town house I applied to last week accepts me, so I can move my son and what little I have left into a new life.

OH wait, AND – I don’t even get to leave here with my privacy b/c the person who couldn’t even take out the trash for the last three years, had my cell phone hacked last week obtained my journal, my texts, and all of my photos. Good thing I have nothing to hide.

There’s so much more, but just add it all to the list.

Please send positive thoughts my way that I get this town house, my son and I are drowning.

Catriona

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You better watch it, or she’ll deck you.

(For the record, I haven’t actually decked anyone in a long time. I think.)

 

Do you remember the Humpy-the-Post-office-Guy? (if not, click here)  Wellllll……I went into the post office the other day. (HAHHAH.) It’s too bad there was only a few people in there. So I get up to the counter, and the Teller points at me and says something to the other tellers that I didn’t catch.  (I by the way, had forgotten about Humpy, momentarily) All the tellers get this HUGE smile on their faces and BURST into laughter. One of them yells “You better not stand too close, or she’ll deck you.” This went right over my head:

Me -Huh?

TellerYou don’t remember that?

MeThreatening to deck someone? No. 

Teller That guy the other day. 

MeOH. That guy. Yeah. He was humping my leg. 

 

By this time one of the Tellers disappeared and reappeared with the Post Master who was laughing so hard I thought he was going to split.his.pants. 

 

PMYou know you were the talk of the whole office. 

MeOh?

PM -Yeah! But, really that guy is hard of hearing.

Me –Um, ok, but he was standing so close to me I could feel his gender. 

PM & TellersOHHHHHHHH we didn’t know that. 

Me –Uh, yeah, and I had moved away several times, even offered for him to cut me in line, yet he continued. 

PMOH we had no idea. 

Me –  Yeah, and I am pretty sure him leaning in to whisper in my ear, so close that he is touching me, has nothing to do with his deafness. 

PM & Tellers – OH! (weird silence)

Me – Yeah. Anyway, I’ll see you guys soon, and we will see who else I can yell at!

The entire post office erupts in laughter. 

 

BTW – a woman in line butted in to say how she would have kicked his ass. UM, NO. We don’t beat on the elderly. We reprimand them. Stupid chick.

Hell, when I’m that old, I will be copping a feel. I just hope I will still have the ability to acknowledge a hint at that age.

 

Photo dump time!

Theses are from the other day. I went for a really long walk.

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Have I mentioned I like abandoned buildings ?

 

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Catriona

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Mother’s Tentacles

I was looking in the  “Mother’s Day gifts” section in Etsy.com …..and I found this:

 

 

mothers day

See it  HERE

 

 

I think I need it. hahahah. I was looking for something for Grams, but I need a tentacle ring! LMAO.

The things I find, Bahahaha.

Catriona

 

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Stuff my stocking…

I’ve been thinking extensively about the coming holidays (boobs).

I just love the holidays (boobs).

When I think about the holidays – I think of family, good food, beautiful atmosphere, hand crafted gifts, and crazy relatives being complete and just utter jackholes (boobs).

I’m so far behind in the whole Xmas shopping/making things, thing. That’s almost unheard of for me. I need to get on that shit, like, stat.

You know, I’ve received some pretty epic holiday gifts over the years. Some …wayyyyy more ridiculous than others. For example – several years ago Santa left this, and only this, in my stocking….

Do you know what this is?

Hint: it’s not a scoop of ice cream.

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Still not sure?

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Yeah. That’s right. Santa gave me boobs for Christmas. A brand new pair of boobs.

He’s so flippin’ thoughtful.

He really does know everything about me!

I mean, I know I have the chest of an 11 year old boy, I’m good with that. But I was unaware that Santa had boobdar in his arsenal of special skills.

I keep them in my dresser next to that ugly sweater you gave me. I’ve never actually used my boobs for anything other than Halloween, but I love the fact that I have boobs, in my drawers.

What kinds of weird items has Santa given you guys? I think I need to know.

Catriona

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Kiss my teapot

I got me a new teapot, yo. Why do you care? CUZZ YOU SHOULD. That is all.

Don’t have much here, people. I know, I know. I’m boring these days. I can’t help it. I’m getting old. hahah.

OH. There is something I was wanting to share with all of you:

This.

size does matter

Google. What a funny thing.

I’m not even sure what I was researching…….It was a while ago….hmmmm what was it?! I can’t think of it right now. But I can tell you that it wasn’t one of  THOSE. I love that it tries to predict what you want – using the most frequent requests it receives. “I don’t know what size condom to buy” is one of the most often “I don’t know what,” requests?!!!?!! REALLY? hahahahahha!! That’s hysterical.

Gosh, I guess that’s all I got.

Oh, I have some photos to dump on you even tho it’s not Dump Sunday.

Here you go. Hang on to your panties!

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And my personal favorite:

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Alright, Catriona out.

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