*Odd Googles
*About Me
*Photo Albums
*Make My Day
*My Linkers


*Adagio Teas
*Kasora Teas
*Lissa Explains
*1000 Journals
*Free Words
*20 Questions

Have you seen Leanna Warner?
Click on photo for more details.

Click for West Fargo, North Dakota Forecast

Recently shared thoughts

Entry 600

Sunday, Aug. 31, 2003 @ 12:41 pm
View my Guestbook
Free Guestbooks by

I had planned to write a witty and intelligent entry for my 600th entry, in this diary, but that's not gonna happen at least not today. I had started planning out some things in my head, about looking back at my life since I've started this diary and all the things I've been thru. I read a bunch of my past entries and I can really see how I've grown and changed and how this diary has helped me grow a lot. I think the simple act of writing things down has forced me to deal with things and actually seeing it in print, makes it less easy to sail down denile river.

Looking back over the entries I've written in the 2+ years I've had this diary, I've come to notice something that was right under my nose, yet for some reason escaped my detection, or should I say, I accidentally on purpose overlooked. I have ranted and raved about my ex, yet I have always made excuses for, tolerated, and ignored his behavior. Supposedly for "Warren's benifit". I used to be afraid of what would happen if I didn't have him to depend on. (even though he was never very dependable), then I discovered I could depend on my self and made a life without him in it, even though for "Warren's sake" I still had to deal with him.

I stopped loving him as a boyfriend or mate a long time ago, yet some part of me still hung on and in some weird way still cared. When I filed the court papers, to keep him out and away I felt an odd sense of relief and pity for him. I couldn't explain it then, and even now I am just beginning to understand, this Florence Nightengale streak I have, where I always feel best when there is somebody needy for me to take care of. And if ever there was somebody needy it was Mike. It wasn't totally one way, there were times when I could have helped my self, but I ran to him. It happened less and less, but yet for some reason I would still go to him for things, and depend on him to be my fill in child care. I can't say it was ever a healthy relationship for either of us. Communication? Non - existant. We both seemed to always operate under the mind reading principal, where you figure the other person will just automatically know what you are thinking and go with it. (trust me, it doesn't work). All of us suffered from this relationship. I was trapped as the classic enabler, who needed to care for him, while at the same time resenting to her core that she was doing it, and Mike in the role of the alcholic/addict in need of someone and something to scapegoat as as justification for his behavior. The only true victim in the situation was Warren, and he is the one still paying the price.

After all we had been thru, I would still let him come back, no matter how much damage it did. I would rant and rave and go totally ballistic, yet something always made me give in to his demands. When I did stand up, I would get this wierd feeling of relief and regret mixed together. I can't really explain it, the best description I can come up with is that its like an addiction where you know its really bad for you, and that it's ruining your life, but for reason's you don't comprehend you can't stop. You may stop for a short while, and fool yourself in to thinking you are over it, but the first crisis and you are right back.

Then something happens to wake you up.. and you have an epiphany... This weekend has been a real attitude shifter for me. And I'm also sure the neighbors probably think I have a crack house here or something with all the goings-on of late. I won't go over Friday nights events, but Saturday was a day I was very thankful my son never witnessed, and hopefully will not know the whole story of.

After Friday, Mike left with his friend for parts unknown. Saturday I got up and went to work as usual. After work I went to Target and Savers to get Warren a few things, and some other stuff. Then I ate at KFC, and spent way to much at SunMart. Everything was a pretty normal (as it gets, kid free Saturday). Then I came home.

Everything I had hauled to the curb to be hauled away on Tuesday (normal trash day is Mon, when there is no holiday) had been strewn around the lawn (supposedly to be sorted, but most of it is well crap..except as scrap metal or spare parts). Well that really pissed me off, especially when I go inside and find he upstairs acting like he still lived there, and believe it or not pissed beause I was having an attitude. He then went outside to "work" with his crap. I locked the door. Then he came around to the sliding glass door. And came into make "his popcorn" in "his microwave". (in my house, in my kitchen with my electricity). After walking around my house, dropping popcorn and trying to start a fight with me, I called the cops. He left. Then about an hour or so later he is back and "sorting his stuff" again. Talking about how I am an asshole and evil.. For some reason this didn't make me blind with unmitigated fury the way it usually does. Instead it was like I was seeing something thru a different set of eyes, like I was seeing it for the first time. I wasn't angry at all, I was actually at piece. I made a few jokes at his expense and then when he wouldn't leave I ended up calling the cops. They came and he left with no trouble. He stated he was going to go to a friends house. He couldn't drive, because his licesnce is suspeded and every cop in town is on the look out for that car. (What I will now on refer to as the big blue crack mobile). So he left on his bike. I settled back down on the couch to watch tv. I was too awake to go to bed, even though I really needed sleep as I had to work at 9am. About an hour later I hear the gate in the back. At first I thought it was just the wind, but then I heard coughing, and wind doesn't cough. I assumed maybe he just came to get something, but then I would hear more coughing and after listening for awhile I heard voices. Or what I assumed were voices. I couldn't tell exactly what was being said, it didn't sound intelligable. I couldn't figure out who he was talking to, I thought maybe he had a friend give him a lift or something. But when the voice didn't quit, I went to the kitchen to investigate, I stopped dead in my tracks. The only one in the backyard was Mike. He was sitting on the deck, kind of hunched over, smoking and rocking back and forth making gutteral sounds, that vaguely resembled words. There are only a few ocassions in my life when I have been freaked totally and that was one of them. He didn't hear me or see me, so I went up to my room and called the cops. They kept me on the phone until a car arrived. They went right to the back yard. I saw a light, but I didn't go back to see what happened and I didn't hear anything. No body came inside, so I don't know exactly what happened.

But here I am at working, desperately in need of a shower operating on half a bagel and a large Mt. Dew. I have had 2.5 hours of sleep, my allergies are acting up, and if someone said I was a basket case, I would take it as a compliment that I look that good. I'm operating purely on auto-pilot.

I need to call CC court and find out if he is in jail or what. Thank God I have the next two days off. I'm still in a state of Comfortable Numbness. And as much as I have reached the enough is enough point, I stil worry about the sorry bastard.

**UPDATE** I did a bunch of calling around.They didn't take him to jail last night, but they did haul him to detox. Unfortunately Centre's policy is that they won't give out any information to anyone unless they are legally required to. So I don't know if he is still there, or if he has been released or what. So who knows what goodies await me at home. Though looking at the shape he was in, he could very well still be in detox, sleeping it off. I'm not sure what their standards are for letting someone go.


Prequels ~ Sequels

Daily Dumbass: The lady in Kent Washington who ended up in jail after throwing a temper tantrum, because somebody t"alked around her"
Thankful For: My son not being at home last night
Music of the mind: : "Now I'm gonna love you, till the stars fall from the sky..till you and I..."

~*~Have you read these~*~

~ Ode to a child who is no more ~
~ She's baaack ~
~ testing ~
~ Facebook me ~
~ Bleech ~

Layout copyright Me, Myself and I. Correct viewing of this site requires IE 5.0 or higher. Use of any other browser may result in unintended results.(Netscape 4.0 or higher is passable however I haven't yet been able to get it to look right in Firefox)

All contents, (except graphics) unless otherwise specified, are the property of TheCrankyOne. Please ask permission before using. Person's caught using pics of my son without permission will be severely dealth with. Graphics are courtesty of Full Moon Graphics. If you want to use them, ask Kitty not me..

Also this is my diary and if you don't like what you read, then I suggest you move on to another diary. I do not write to please others, I write for myself. If you don't like my diary it is your problem, not mine.
Any rude comments, spam, flames etc.. will be deleted as soon as I become aware of them. Also if you wish to comment please have the decency to leave a valid form of contact such as a web address or email, unless I happen to know you and would know who you are.

This Web site is Registered with

Creative Commons 

/> This work is licensed
under a Creative Commons License.


In every neighborhood there is at least one house that all the neighbors gossip about. This is a diary from the woman who lives in that house. I am a single mother in her mid thirties. I live in North Dakota with my son, Warren.

I tend to be a bit of a slob, and am the opposite of a girly-girl. I am geek girl, who loves Star Wars, Star Trek, Harry Potter, Buffy, Angel, action movies, science fiction, action adventure, Dr. Who, and so on and so on.

I love to write and while I don't post much fiction online anymore I would love to be a writer someday. I am also overweight, bipolar and suffer from allergy induced asthma.