One of the worst things my mom has ever done she had done to my father. They started a lead and asbestos removal company in the 80's. They had a lot of large jobs, including government contracts. I don't know why I'm saying "they" because that would imply that my mother was an active part of the company and actually contributed anything. What I mean to say is that my father built this company from the ground up, and my mother ran it into the ground.
The company was very successful, they had a lot of money. Joanna, however, began stealing the money in large quantities, and wasting it. She'd give it to whichever of her white trash friends asked her for a loan, she'd give it to whatever piece of shit she was sleeping with. He would go to pay his workers and she would have taken the money from the account. Eventually my father pulled out, he left the company, and left her to run it. So naturally, it ended in bankruptcy. One time she took fifty thousand dollars my grandmother was left with when her husband died. My dad has worked hard all of his life, he should be retired in a nice house. Instead he's almost sixty, a survivor of two massive strokes, and working his ass off every single day doing HVAC.
When my dad had the two strokes, he was out of commission for quite a while. During this time my mother took out credit cards in his name and never paid them off. She had already ruined her own credit, as well as my grandmother's. She would go on to ruin my big brother's credit by taking out credit cards in his name, and eventually she ruined mine. When I turned 18 she began taking out credit cards and opening accounts in my name. I didn't know it was going on before it was too late. Now I'm 22, finally in a position where I can go to school, but my credit is awful. I'll never be able to buy a house, or a car, or any significant purchases really. I've told the cops, lawyers, credit bureaus, filed a police report, everything. Nothing has been done and my credit is still shit. No one cares, companies only want their money and say they don't believe me. They do, they just don't care.
Her explanation for ruining my credit is that she was building it up so that when I was 19 I could buy her house for $375,000 (after her fucking it up it was worth nowhere near this). And part of the house is mine. My dad and grandmother bought the house, Joanna forced my grandmother to sign over her half. My dad put his half in a trust for my brothers. My mom's lawyer set up the trust...she is the trustee. My dad's only stipulation when putting the house in our names was that my mother not be able to gain control of the trust, guess he should've read the paperwork before he signed. And why the fuck would a 19 year-old with no job buy a house that is partially hers for an inflated price? She claims we had been talking about doing so for over a year, but in reality she very regularly makes these things up in her head and believes them. Maybe it helps her sleep at night.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
After my mom and little brother moved out of the house it was my older brother and I living there. We occasionally had roommates she would find. The longest of which were Mikey and Tyler, they smoked crack (literally). Another story for another time. There wasn't furniture throughout, although our rooms were still furnished. After she moved out she decided to fix our house up and sell it. Her fixing the house up consisted of snorting a veritable shit ton of adderall, staying up all night and trying to do jobs that licensed contractors should've been doing. She would regularly wake me up at 3 in the morning demanding I help her tile the kitchen or "get the fuck out." She had been doing this since I was a kid, she'd wake me up in the middle of the night to clean the dishes I hadn't washed properly the first time or to start a project for school that was due in three weeks. Anyway, it's important to note that she has absolutely no taste, and the house is just about the tackiest piece of shit in the entire world. It could've actually been a nice house, it's six bedrooms, has a huge deck, etc. Outside of the front door she put up a little Virgin Mary statue to give the impression that she was a good person. She also put conch shells along the garden and walkway to the house. Her drug addiction just got worse and worse, she eventually just ended up painting and repainting every room in the house a million different colors and a means of "fixing it up."
She was still living in Edgewater but was still coming down very frequently to fuck up the house. One time she came down in the middle of the day, I would be turning twenty in four or so months so it was probably around October or November. I know it was cold. She was high as a kite and apparently couldn't find her pills. She did this often, took all of her pills and didn't remember. She'd tell her doctor they were stolen so she could get another prescription. This time she started accusing my brother and I of stealing her pills. "Give me my pills you stupid fucking bitch or get the fuck out of my house." Then she called the cops, which I encourage. When the cop got there she told him her looney story about how my brother stole her pills, then how I stole them. She couldn't keep her story straight and the cop saw through her. I calmly explained to him that she did this so she could get another prescription. "Get her the fuck out of my house." And that was it. He told me I had to go. I'd been kicked out several time before but it wasn't permanent, she didn't live there so I still could. This time I was really banned, which sucked because I had no job, no car and nowhere really to go. My brother and I ended up at our grandmother's apartment, an efficiency, not even a one bedroom. I gathered my most favorite clothes into a large trashbag, the clothes I wore the most. They were all I had really. Hell, I might've been homeless but at least I would be well dressed. When I went back for everything else, my t-shirts, expensive ski clothes, everything of mine was gone. It sucked but I parted with it okay.
Living at my grandmother's was no picnic. I felt bad to invade her space, but I think she was lonely anyway and enjoyed having us. I hadn't met my boyfriend, Mike at this point and started to turn my life around yet, so most of this time was spent partying with friends. I spent a lot of time with my friend, Joel, who was going through a break up. We got drunk just about every single night. Surprisingly I wasn't unhappy. I just fell into the pattern of drinking excessively. Don't get me wrong, I had nothing and wasn't satisfied with not being in school or having a job, but life could've been worse and I knew it.
My grandmother's building manager eventually caught on to the fact that we were living there and kicked us out. Then I really had nowhere to go. I hated to impose on my friends and my dad wasn't an option, as he had moved to Edgewater so he could be close to my little brother. The building manager was coming by one day to make sure all of our things were out of the apartment, so in an act of desperation I called Joanna. She had essentially been kicked out of the house in Edgewater and was living in a nice hotel nearby. I asked her to come pick me up. She was high, naturally. I had all of my clothes with me and I put them in her car. We went to her hotel. I can't remember what the hell she started yelling at me about but we ended up in a huge fight. I had been drinking and had some beers in my purse. I told her I'd be back for my clothes and I left. As I was walking away from the hotel contemplating my next move and who I could call, I saw two cops driving toward me. I knew she had called the cops on me but wasn't sure why. There was a hill next to me that I basically threw myself down to hide. I was still underage, and on top of that on probation for a DUI I got when I was 19. She knew this. I don't know how long I stayed there. It was wet. It was spring and the night was cold. Eventually I thought they had to be gone, I didn't hear any cars and hadn't in a while. Stupid me.
Just as I had walked up the hill a cop pulled up.
"We've been looking everywhere for you!" Ugh.
They took me back up to my mom's hotel room. When she say me she exclaimed, "I've been so worried! Are you okay?" She always did this in front of societal figures, cops, doctors, teachers. She would put on this fake, sweet voice and pretend that she actually cared if I lived or died. It made me unbelievable angry. It turns out she had called the cops and told them I threatened to commit suicide and left. She had started this when I was about 14. She would kick me out of the house but then call the cops and tell them I was threatening to kill myself. This, however, turned out to be beneficial to me. The cops felt sorry for me and didn't arrest me for the beer in my purse. I told them I refused to stay with her, and just when the cops were escorting me out she said "Do you need any money sweetheart?" I did. But I was too prideful to take it.
When I went back to pick up my clothes she had no recollection of my leaving them with her. She vaguely remembered giving her crackhead (again, literal) sister some of my clothes, but wasn't sure. I only had the clothes I was wearing and a few items at my grandmother's. All of my pretty clothes that I had worked and saved to buy were gone. My graduation and prom dresses, my bras and underwear, my professional clothes, my I Heart Boxed Wine shirt, everything. I didn't have money to buy more. I think this time period in my life was my bottom.
She was still living in Edgewater but was still coming down very frequently to fuck up the house. One time she came down in the middle of the day, I would be turning twenty in four or so months so it was probably around October or November. I know it was cold. She was high as a kite and apparently couldn't find her pills. She did this often, took all of her pills and didn't remember. She'd tell her doctor they were stolen so she could get another prescription. This time she started accusing my brother and I of stealing her pills. "Give me my pills you stupid fucking bitch or get the fuck out of my house." Then she called the cops, which I encourage. When the cop got there she told him her looney story about how my brother stole her pills, then how I stole them. She couldn't keep her story straight and the cop saw through her. I calmly explained to him that she did this so she could get another prescription. "Get her the fuck out of my house." And that was it. He told me I had to go. I'd been kicked out several time before but it wasn't permanent, she didn't live there so I still could. This time I was really banned, which sucked because I had no job, no car and nowhere really to go. My brother and I ended up at our grandmother's apartment, an efficiency, not even a one bedroom. I gathered my most favorite clothes into a large trashbag, the clothes I wore the most. They were all I had really. Hell, I might've been homeless but at least I would be well dressed. When I went back for everything else, my t-shirts, expensive ski clothes, everything of mine was gone. It sucked but I parted with it okay.
Living at my grandmother's was no picnic. I felt bad to invade her space, but I think she was lonely anyway and enjoyed having us. I hadn't met my boyfriend, Mike at this point and started to turn my life around yet, so most of this time was spent partying with friends. I spent a lot of time with my friend, Joel, who was going through a break up. We got drunk just about every single night. Surprisingly I wasn't unhappy. I just fell into the pattern of drinking excessively. Don't get me wrong, I had nothing and wasn't satisfied with not being in school or having a job, but life could've been worse and I knew it.
My grandmother's building manager eventually caught on to the fact that we were living there and kicked us out. Then I really had nowhere to go. I hated to impose on my friends and my dad wasn't an option, as he had moved to Edgewater so he could be close to my little brother. The building manager was coming by one day to make sure all of our things were out of the apartment, so in an act of desperation I called Joanna. She had essentially been kicked out of the house in Edgewater and was living in a nice hotel nearby. I asked her to come pick me up. She was high, naturally. I had all of my clothes with me and I put them in her car. We went to her hotel. I can't remember what the hell she started yelling at me about but we ended up in a huge fight. I had been drinking and had some beers in my purse. I told her I'd be back for my clothes and I left. As I was walking away from the hotel contemplating my next move and who I could call, I saw two cops driving toward me. I knew she had called the cops on me but wasn't sure why. There was a hill next to me that I basically threw myself down to hide. I was still underage, and on top of that on probation for a DUI I got when I was 19. She knew this. I don't know how long I stayed there. It was wet. It was spring and the night was cold. Eventually I thought they had to be gone, I didn't hear any cars and hadn't in a while. Stupid me.
Just as I had walked up the hill a cop pulled up.
"We've been looking everywhere for you!" Ugh.
They took me back up to my mom's hotel room. When she say me she exclaimed, "I've been so worried! Are you okay?" She always did this in front of societal figures, cops, doctors, teachers. She would put on this fake, sweet voice and pretend that she actually cared if I lived or died. It made me unbelievable angry. It turns out she had called the cops and told them I threatened to commit suicide and left. She had started this when I was about 14. She would kick me out of the house but then call the cops and tell them I was threatening to kill myself. This, however, turned out to be beneficial to me. The cops felt sorry for me and didn't arrest me for the beer in my purse. I told them I refused to stay with her, and just when the cops were escorting me out she said "Do you need any money sweetheart?" I did. But I was too prideful to take it.
When I went back to pick up my clothes she had no recollection of my leaving them with her. She vaguely remembered giving her crackhead (again, literal) sister some of my clothes, but wasn't sure. I only had the clothes I was wearing and a few items at my grandmother's. All of my pretty clothes that I had worked and saved to buy were gone. My graduation and prom dresses, my bras and underwear, my professional clothes, my I Heart Boxed Wine shirt, everything. I didn't have money to buy more. I think this time period in my life was my bottom.
Friday, May 21, 2010
when your parents purposely set the house on fire...
When I was sixteen my mom purposely burnt part of our house down for insurance money. I actually was at a bonfire when I got a call from her screaming at me to come home because a fire had started in her room and firemen were trying to put it out. After I deduced that everyone was okay, I really didn't care and had no intention of leaving my bonfire. She kept calling at me and screaming at me to come home though, so I eventually did even though I wasn't concerned with her room being on fire.
When I got there she flipped out on me for not immediately coming home. Her explanation as to how the fire started was that a candle exploded. I immediately knew she had started it. At this time her sketchy drug addict boyfriend, Tim, who was ten years younger than her was living with us. They had been dating on and off for a very long time. I never liked him. He was stupid, and was one of those guys that would do whatever type of drug he could get his hands on, just to be high. I know he preferred Oxycontin, just like my mom, and his lack of sticking to one drug really said a lot about his personality, to me at least.
So my mom's room was aflame, the firemen got it out quickly and easily, no one was injured. But there was smoke damage throughout, especially in my room. The entire top floor of our house was unlivable. We had another bottom floor with an addition that consisted of three bedrooms, two living rooms, one bathroom and another kitchen. We could have lived there, but for some reason my mother insisted we live in a hotel. The only one our crappy insurance covered was the Red Roof Inn in Gaithersburg, which was even close to our house (and considering I went to school in DC, it definitely was not close). I got my own room so I wasn't too pissed. Though being in the parking lot after dark was not advisable, and I regularly saw hookers and their consorts. Overall it was a fun experience.
The clever part of her burning the house down was that she started her own company in her boyfriend's name to fix our house. All the damage estimates she was getting from other companies were apparently much too low. So she started this company, sent an insanely large estimate to the insurance company and used drug addicted red necks who made inappropriate comments to me to fix the damage done to the house. She paid them in both cash and in Xanax, Oxycontin and Adderall. Definitely the type of drugs you want to give felons around your teenage daughter.
With the money she had leftover, she decided to buy a house in Edgewater, Maryland. I've described it before, strip malls and white trash on the water. It was somewhere by the Chesapeake and nowhere near my school. Which didn't matter anyway, the way she presented this to me was, "Tim and I are going to buy a two bedroom in Edgewater, you can sleep on the couch if you want." She was taking my little brother, who I didn't really like because he was very, very spoiled (and still is) with her. This news made me ecstatic. I was so happy I didn't have to live with her anymore, although she insisted that if I stay I stay in the house I start paying rent.
The day she moved out was such a relief. She plagued my everyday life like a virus I couldn't get rid of. Every single time I would see her, which wasn't that often because I tried to avoid her as much as possible, she was screaming at me. She has constantly called me a stupid bitch my entire life, literally since I can even remember being called a stupid bitch. Children start to remember around four, though my big brother said she's done it since before then.
When I got there she flipped out on me for not immediately coming home. Her explanation as to how the fire started was that a candle exploded. I immediately knew she had started it. At this time her sketchy drug addict boyfriend, Tim, who was ten years younger than her was living with us. They had been dating on and off for a very long time. I never liked him. He was stupid, and was one of those guys that would do whatever type of drug he could get his hands on, just to be high. I know he preferred Oxycontin, just like my mom, and his lack of sticking to one drug really said a lot about his personality, to me at least.
So my mom's room was aflame, the firemen got it out quickly and easily, no one was injured. But there was smoke damage throughout, especially in my room. The entire top floor of our house was unlivable. We had another bottom floor with an addition that consisted of three bedrooms, two living rooms, one bathroom and another kitchen. We could have lived there, but for some reason my mother insisted we live in a hotel. The only one our crappy insurance covered was the Red Roof Inn in Gaithersburg, which was even close to our house (and considering I went to school in DC, it definitely was not close). I got my own room so I wasn't too pissed. Though being in the parking lot after dark was not advisable, and I regularly saw hookers and their consorts. Overall it was a fun experience.
The clever part of her burning the house down was that she started her own company in her boyfriend's name to fix our house. All the damage estimates she was getting from other companies were apparently much too low. So she started this company, sent an insanely large estimate to the insurance company and used drug addicted red necks who made inappropriate comments to me to fix the damage done to the house. She paid them in both cash and in Xanax, Oxycontin and Adderall. Definitely the type of drugs you want to give felons around your teenage daughter.
With the money she had leftover, she decided to buy a house in Edgewater, Maryland. I've described it before, strip malls and white trash on the water. It was somewhere by the Chesapeake and nowhere near my school. Which didn't matter anyway, the way she presented this to me was, "Tim and I are going to buy a two bedroom in Edgewater, you can sleep on the couch if you want." She was taking my little brother, who I didn't really like because he was very, very spoiled (and still is) with her. This news made me ecstatic. I was so happy I didn't have to live with her anymore, although she insisted that if I stay I stay in the house I start paying rent.
The day she moved out was such a relief. She plagued my everyday life like a virus I couldn't get rid of. Every single time I would see her, which wasn't that often because I tried to avoid her as much as possible, she was screaming at me. She has constantly called me a stupid bitch my entire life, literally since I can even remember being called a stupid bitch. Children start to remember around four, though my big brother said she's done it since before then.
Monday, May 10, 2010
mother's day
Yesterday was mother's day. It really makes me kind of sad. I picture my mother by herself, wondering why her children dislike her so much and where she had gone wrong. It makes me so mad at myself because I feel such pity and guilt, which is useless because my mother has no remorse, she has no guilt. She doesn't care. I just imagine that she does, as most people would be sad that their children wanted nothing to do with them, not even on Mother's Day.
When I was 19 and still trying to force a relationship with her I decided to celebrate the day with her. My boyfriend at the time and I drove the hour to the redneck town she moved to, which she insisted was beautiful but really was only strip malls and white trash on the water. When we got there she was bitchy, as she usually is. I tried to ignore it, I suggested we go out to lunch. She told me Ron said he might come by and she didn't want to leave in case she missed him. Ron owned the marina where she docked her boat. Actually, Ron's parents owned it and he ran it. Ron was balding, chubby and married. He had three children in high school. He thought it was appropriate to tell me how to treat my mother. Mostly I was rude to him while trying not to throw a knife in the direction of his face. Her denying my lunch offer to wait around for the married man she was dating pissed me off, so I told her it was bullshit. I'd driven all the way down there and she wouldn't even leave her fucking house. This upset her, made her mad, but she knew I was right. So she forged an anxiety attack. She grabbed her stomach, paced around, stepped out of her back door, stepped back in, whined like a child, yelled at me, "I wish you hadn't come!" and then she got an idea. If Ron wouldn't come to us, we would go to him. Her entire mood changed, we'd get take out and eat it on her boat.
I hated Ron and wanted nothing to do with him. I thought he was a piece of shit. It made me mad that I had to ask if he wanted any take out sushi. He didn't. Thank God. When we got to her boat with the sushi the two of them were there, talking. I hated that I had to hang out with this douche, but I figured we'd just eat the sushi and leave. This proved a problem, as that fat fuck who said he didn't want any sushi, ended up eating most of it. My mom would make rude little quips to me, I would try to calm myself down and not flip out on her, I'd just tell her that her behavior was inappropriate and she needed to act like an adult (I started telling her this when I was about 12 or 13). Somehow Ron thought this gave him the go ahead to tell me I needed to be nice to my mother. I asked if he was fucking kidding me, he wasn't. In an attempt not to start screaming at them both, push them overboard and drown them, we left. I had a drug addicted nutjob throwing jabs at me when I was trying to spend fucking Mother's Day with her and her cheating boyfriend was telling me to be nice to her. No wonder I'm such an angry person.
When I was 19 and still trying to force a relationship with her I decided to celebrate the day with her. My boyfriend at the time and I drove the hour to the redneck town she moved to, which she insisted was beautiful but really was only strip malls and white trash on the water. When we got there she was bitchy, as she usually is. I tried to ignore it, I suggested we go out to lunch. She told me Ron said he might come by and she didn't want to leave in case she missed him. Ron owned the marina where she docked her boat. Actually, Ron's parents owned it and he ran it. Ron was balding, chubby and married. He had three children in high school. He thought it was appropriate to tell me how to treat my mother. Mostly I was rude to him while trying not to throw a knife in the direction of his face. Her denying my lunch offer to wait around for the married man she was dating pissed me off, so I told her it was bullshit. I'd driven all the way down there and she wouldn't even leave her fucking house. This upset her, made her mad, but she knew I was right. So she forged an anxiety attack. She grabbed her stomach, paced around, stepped out of her back door, stepped back in, whined like a child, yelled at me, "I wish you hadn't come!" and then she got an idea. If Ron wouldn't come to us, we would go to him. Her entire mood changed, we'd get take out and eat it on her boat.
I hated Ron and wanted nothing to do with him. I thought he was a piece of shit. It made me mad that I had to ask if he wanted any take out sushi. He didn't. Thank God. When we got to her boat with the sushi the two of them were there, talking. I hated that I had to hang out with this douche, but I figured we'd just eat the sushi and leave. This proved a problem, as that fat fuck who said he didn't want any sushi, ended up eating most of it. My mom would make rude little quips to me, I would try to calm myself down and not flip out on her, I'd just tell her that her behavior was inappropriate and she needed to act like an adult (I started telling her this when I was about 12 or 13). Somehow Ron thought this gave him the go ahead to tell me I needed to be nice to my mother. I asked if he was fucking kidding me, he wasn't. In an attempt not to start screaming at them both, push them overboard and drown them, we left. I had a drug addicted nutjob throwing jabs at me when I was trying to spend fucking Mother's Day with her and her cheating boyfriend was telling me to be nice to her. No wonder I'm such an angry person.
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