Dear Sister in Law,

You're a dirty bitch. You know it and I know it. Back the fuck off. YOU are not my warden, though you certainly whisper all sorts of shit in my warden's ear that makes my life even more miserable than it already is.

You know what an asshole your brother is. You've seen the way he's clipped my wings and crushed my spirit. Why don't you quit fucking helping him along, hmm?

Because I swear to God, you twisted, horrible little person, if you drag my children into your bullshit like you tried to do today you will not know what fucking hit you.

You think I'm a little mouse, and in the past you may have been right. It's my fault; after all, I've allowed myself to be verbally, mentally, and spiritually abused for the last seven years and done little about it. I get why you think I'm weak; I've been weak. I can own that. But here's a fucking newsflash, Sister, fuck with my children and you will see this mouse turn into a lion. And my bite is MUCH fucking worse than my roar.

Back. The fuck. Off.

I think I'm a little drunk. Or, a lot drunk, considering how empty the wine bottle is. And that other wine bottle. And that third wine bottle over there. I've been in my hot tub for like three hours which I'm pretty sure isn't recommended, but fuck it. Do your worst, hot tub.

So, I've learned a few things tonight in my drunken hot tub time, unfortunately I'm not sure how many of them are useful. I've learned that the answers I'm looking for are not at the bottom of any of these three wine bottles. They're not in a pack of cigarettes. I do NOT smoke, by the way, but I decided to see what the big deal is. Um, not again. I don't see the appeal in coughing my lungs out and smelling like a washed out whore. I'll probably get lung cancer just from this one fucking time. Fuck it. Do your worst, cancer.

I've learned that there are some pretty fucking giant black widows that live around my pool house, but they burn like mad with a little help from some hairspray and a lighter.

I learned that drinking and lighting poisonous spiders on fire is not exactly a winning idea, but it's still a little bit fun. So far I haven't died or set myself on fire, so I have that going for me. Which is nice.

I hope there's more in my future than getting drunk in my hot tub and crying like a bitch over what I wish I could have and do and be.

Goddammit.

Vacation

I just got home from a little mini vacation. As fabulous as it is to get away, being out of the shit for a few days makes it ever so much harder to wade back into it.

For four days I didn't have to answer to anyone, I didn't have to be ridiculed, I didn't have to watch my step, and I didn't have to pretend I was happy because I actually was happy. It was incredible. I cannot remember the last time I had so much fun.

And all I want to do is go away again. I want to take my children and run to parts unknown, but he has me right where he wants me. I have all the money in the world, but it's just out of my reach. He allows me access to almost none of it. My "allowance" hardly stretches to cover the kids and my needs now, when our major expenses are taken care of. It's like being in the middle of the ocean and thirsty as hell. There's "water water everywhere, but not a drop to drink".

I'm stuck. Terribly, impossibly stuck. It's the most helpless, claustrophobic feeling I can think of. I wouldn't wish it on anyone.

I want to go back on vacation. Um, permanently. Someday, hopefully.