Closing in on a year and other tales of survival (or who let me adult? WTF?!)

Yesterday was Andrew’s birthday. He would have been 54. I was bombarded all day with memories from various social websites reminding me of this fact and of all the birthdays in years past and how we celebrated. Mostly it was concerts. Because our whole lives were concerts. But mostly I woke up feeling lost because for the first time in 16 years I did not wake up to snuggle his  crazy blonde curls that I affectionately called Rooster head and tell him “You’re 8 years older than me”. July was very special for us. Our first date was July 15th and for years (including that first date) went to Muncie for Shakespeare at Minnetrista and later on BSU’s campus until they did away with it altogether. His birthday came on July 19th and 7 years 7 days and 7 hours later on July 26th came my birthday. It seemed our whole world revolved around 7s. Now I have had to add the anniversary of his mom to July on the 14th. In the past, our little group of 3 couples celebrated four of our six birthdays in this week. Starting with Drew’s birthday and ending with mine. It seems a little weird to start on a different birthday this year.

It also seemed weird to sit quietly at home and go to bed fairly early last night.

We plan to celebrate a little with a lantern release tonight. Just the few of us getting together and remembering a man who made so much impact on all of us and left such a giant gap behind. It’s important to go through these rituals of remembering and feeling all of the feelings that come with it. It makes us…..(swallow) human.

If I had known a year ago that my life was going to be so drastically changed and forever altered, I don’t know if I would have acted/behaved/done anything differently. But I do know that I would have still put my head down and moved forward with everything that is inside of me because I am too stubborn/dumb/pathetic to do anything less than that.

So this year has been filled with all of the firsts. Which suck. Every. One. But still I move forward. This year has also been filled with lots of changes. I changed jobs, hairstyles, focuses, relationships, coworkers and cars. I didn’t get stuck but am often debilitated by the thing that brought all of these changes. I am not happier in these changes, per se, but I am feeling a hell of a lot less stressed about life in general. I have found support in places that I did not know existed. I have learned that we take life way too seriously and that we worry about far too many things that…..Just. Don’t. Matter. And we also let life get on top of us in ways that…..May. Just. Kill. Us.

Think about those things for a moment. Meditate on them. Use them for a mantra. Life is way too short to fuck around with people who make us miserable and far too precious to waste time doing things that don’t make us happy or lead to a way to make us happy.

Afterall, I decided that after 2 years of being stuck in a job that I hated and that had become some sort of demented antagonist in my life, that I was moving on. With or without a replacement job. Luckily a replacement job came along.  I have learned to appreciate little things in life. I consider nothing wasted time anymore. Roger wants to take a car ride?  Let’s go! Chance to take a day off work and take my kid to see our lads <bows head in reverence> Liverpool play on US soil? Fuck yes! Take my friends and kid to concerts? Hell yes! (Side note: you have not lived until you realise that you prolly played WAY too much Violent Femmes while your kid was growing up because you are standing next to him at that concert and you both are screaming the lyrics “why can’t I get just one fuck” at top volume.)

Have a written a word outside of a few blogs since Andrew died? No, I have not. But let me tell you why. I sit in front of the screen writing a blog and I cry my eyes out. I am not ready to write anything else right now. Writing is intensely personal and intensely emotional. I am just not ready to share that much with anyone right now. I haven’t stopped being creative. I have been working on the Autie Zombie Girl shop and things are starting to come together in a way. I have a working website: Weird gifts for Weird people. For now, this is satisfying my creativity. I will go back to writing. But right now, there is so much to do!

I challenged myself this year. It would be very easy for me to go inside, shut the door, lock the latch with that satisfying CLICK and….Never. Come. Out. Again. But because that is the easy answer, I did not do that. Instead I put myself out there. I go to the market every Saturday. Good or bad weather. Good or bad sales. I signed up to do some local shows. That is definitely not in my comfort zone. But without Drew to buffer the world for me, I have had to learn to do it for myself. I do occasionally still hide. I still have Asperger’s for fuck’s sake. But I had to get strong enough to do things on my own. I always have. I have always had this pool of getupandgoness that makes me move forward in a generally lucid manner.

I am now also LITERALLY my husband’s brother’s keeper. Not many of you know that Drew has a brother with an extremely awful mental illness. He is paranoid schizophrenic. When their mom died, Drew and I promised we would look after Mark. When Drew died, I thought that it was my job to fulfill that promise. He was arrested a few months ago in Family Dollar arguing with his voices and destroying merchandise. We got him a placement in first our local mental health agency and then our state mental health hospital. The guardianship hearing was a hoot. Drew’s real father showed up to contest it. He’d succeeded in putting off the hearing for a month. He attempted to make it a three ring circus, but did not succeed. He told the judge that I was crazy and that I was famous on the internet because “her people call her auntie zombie girl”. He also tried to turn being weird into a bad thing. He told the judge that I was proud of being different. So the judge told him that he could see I was different from where he was sitting and he was going to give me guardianship anyways. Bam!

I have been tempted often in the last couple of months to send him a letter and tell him that this is  not how good Christians and Believers behave. That he should be happy that someone has stepped up to take care of Mark. Afterall, he’s just as crazy if not crazier than Mark. He does not see it that way. Thankfully, I have people on my side in that family. Drew’s cousin told the rest of the family that I was obviously the best person for the job. Afterall, his own mother trusted me to take care of him in her absence. I also made sure to dispel the myth that Drew’s mom died atop a giant pile of money that was earmarked for Mark’s care. This is not the case at all. It’s hard to make people who only use money and their own rewards/benefits as a basis for helping others understand that sometimes it’s just the right thing to do.

I continue to clean the house and to put his items away that will eventually go to an auction and be used to pay for his headstone. I continue to find memories of what our life together was and what it meant to him. I believe he was truly happy. Not just with me and our marriage, but with his life. He loved his little part time job and he loved fixing things. He was starting to put together a little network of people that needed things fixed. He enjoyed the freedom of doing what he wanted when he wanted and taking as long as he wanted to so that the job was done right. He was truly in a very good place in life.

So ahead of us are the last few firsts. My first birthday (in 16 years) without him. My first year without him. It’s a struggle that I feel immensely under equipped to take on. But here we are. How would I have done this all without the love and support that I have? I have no idea. Prolly not very well.

I miss his smile. I miss waking up every day and told how pretty I am. I miss his gentle kindness. I miss his confidence. I miss the confidence that he gave me in myself. I miss having a built in concert/movie buddy. I miss everything about him deep into my soul. Life is not as happy without him. Music is not as good without him. My house is so quiet and empty without him. He was my best friend.

First Mother’s Day in 5 years and Other Sordid Passings

I’m sorry that I’ve neglected you for so long, dear readers. As we have moved through life in the last couple of months, what little energy I have seems directed at other projects. Funny how life sneaks up on you like that and overtakes you. It scoops you up and drags you along in the current of it and threatens to roll you into the undertow. Attempts to drown you in the feeling of it all.

Wee Geek is on a more even keel. Getting patient assistance for his meds and keeping him going on them has made a huge difference. He seems to feel better all the way around too. He seems to have a better grasp on this relationship thing, too. Always a good thing. He gets it more than I did at his age, thank goodness.

Wee Geek turns into a greater and greater kid with every day that passes.  He asked for Mother’s Day off and fought work over it. He went to Dayton to pick up my mom and bring her to Muncie for lunch at Outback and to go see “Dark Shadows”. It was a fantastic day in that respect.

I was struck by how truly happy that moment made me. I sat across from my son in the booth and could hardly wipe the stupid grin off my face. I was so grateful for this moment that I have been deprived off for 5 years. What no one realises is that when you go through what we did there is so much emotional crap to wade through. I know that back in 2007 that idiot judge did not care in the slightest that it was the Friday before Mother’s Day. Or maybe he did. Maybe that was the ultimate punishment. Maybe that was the point. Some days I am in absolute certainty that it was exactly what he meant. Other days I know without any uncertainty that it is just the corruption that oozes out of every pore of the Delaware County court system.

I don’t know if they knew that I would spend 5 years doubting all sorts of things about myself. I spent a lot of time questioning everything I’ve ever done for Wee Geek. It is difficult to hold your entire life under a microscope and examine it. It’s worse to watch others do it for illicit purposes. Suddenly, every decision, every word I’d ever spoken, every word I hadn’t spoken, every fiber of me was being looked at and criticized. Beyond harshly, too. It was as if I was dead and they’d given my ex-husband a platform or at least a license to stomp on my body. I’m not a person who can afford to wallow in self regrets and bad choices. If I gave in to that I would get nothing else done. EVER….

But 5 years of questioning and turning every moment around and around in my head took a real toll on me personally and emotionally. It has taken me awhile to stop looking at everything and trying to second and triple guess what my ex and the lawyers and the judge were going to piece out and decide to penalize me over.

I feel in my heart and soul that I always made the choices for Wee Geek that I did because I was using all of the information that I had and with the best possible intentions. It makes me very angry that all of these people who did not live in my life and did not have to live out the consequences were making all of these massive decisions in my life. Terrifying. It’s easy to make a heart breaking choice when it’s not your heart that’s breaking, I guess. I wonder how they would have behaved with their identities being completely yanked out from under them. That is essentially what they did to me. My entire identity was Wee Geek’s mom. Suddenly I wasn’t a mom anymore. I was just this empty shell of a girl who’d lost everything that meant anything.

So I thought about all of these things as I sat across from my son. In my happiness, all of those horrid angry feelings had relocated. They have been entertaining the little guy in the back if my brain for a few days. He’s easily amused.

I thought about some other things as well. How life goes in circles mostly. It’s a very strange path that we travel on in this life and we must follow the road whether or not it is paved with yellow bricks. Mostly not. At least in my case. I’m sure that my ex takes a great deal of pleasure thinking that he’s gotten away with something akin to murder. He also revels in the thought that he’s ruined me financially, while he sits and never pays for for anything that he’s done in any way once again.  It very much feels like that. I hate to dwell on it or to even feel as if I’m dwelling on it, but it’s difficult to muster up any feeling that is not ill will when every day is a reminder that I can’t help Wee Geek with something or that he’s not able to follow his dreams because his dad is a selfish bastard. It’s not fair to anyone. But it’s most not fair to Wee Geek and that is what upsets me.  That he continues to have to pay for the mistake I made.

Past that, there have been other happenings in this past few months. Things that have reminded us of what is important. We continue to struggle to keep Wee Geek where he is and independent. However, we also continue to see the giant blinky yellow arrow sign of doom that points out the road back to home. He worries about this. I worry about this. We keep trying to put a rosy face on this uncertain future. It will not be easy in the coming months. He’s afraid that he will lose his independence. I keep telling him that there won’t be much difference and I cannot seem to make him realise that you have to move forward even when the future feels so awful and uncertain. Of course, that uncertainty is almost the kiss of death for an autistic lot. We’re getting throught it.

I have lots of thoughts that have gone through my brain as of late. Thinking of Wee Geek and how we are getting through all of this. How will we survive? I have no idea. I only know that we will.

I have once again made connections with my past that are amazing. I am always happy to make connections with old friends, but this one is certainly a cherished one. This particular old friend wandered away when I was being isolated, however, it was not because there was no friendship there. It was because there was nothing left to say or do.  Sometimes when friends can’t help you on your path, they have to let you go on your way and wait for you. That is what this friend and a lot of others did for me. This friend reminded me today that I was instrumental in his choice of name when he changed it. That is amazing to me that I did that for a friend. So this connection is an important reminder that you cannot escape your past, but it is not always unpleasant. At a time when much of my past feels immensely unpleasant, I am grateful for this reminder that not all of the things associated with that time in my life are awful. Some of them were good.

We are standing on the precipice of another event in our lives. Best Buy guy’s oldest daughter gets married this weekend. We spent the weekend looking for a dress. After buying two dresses at a department store, one of which I hated and one of which BB guy hated, I wandered into Goodwill and found a great dress that we both love for $3. Can’t beat that with a sharp stick in the eye, so I’m going with it. Took the other two dresses back. We’ve spent the biggest part of the evening looking for a father daughter dance song. He’s decided on something, I think. It will be all right.

I have this feeling that there are a lot of things that we are standing on the edge of. The summer will come to pass and we will see what it brings. I am standing and facing it with this brave little face. I know no other way to do it. Great old world resolve inside of me, I suppose.

I will go forward. Trying to hold the torch high for Wee Geek to follow. The future will bring whatever it brings. We have no choice but to follow the path. Wherever it leads.

Tales of a Bully Become Lawyer

So for the second time in one week, I had to visit the lovely walls of the Delaware County courthouse.  I do not relish these trips. They are a gigantic pain in the ass first of all. Especially because my ex whines that he is too sick to drive to court, but he’s not too sick to stalk my kid and to sit around and think up ways to be a complete and total ass. It’s very frustrating for Wee Geek and me both that he seems to always get a pass for his reprehensible behaviour.

We are used to being different and to being called out for thinking differently, but court is the one place where our differences seem to be counted as a criminal offense rather than an asset. It is the one place that we cannot seem to make any reasonable accommodations work for us. Actually in the legal system, there is no such thing as accommodations, reasonable or otherwise, for people on the spectrum. Especially since we “don’t look autistic”. I’ve been thinking alot about what that means. The phrase looms up in my mind’s eye over and over.  What does autism look like?

In my family it is 5’2″ with auburn and purple hair. It is also almost 6′ tall with curly blonde hair. We are both extremely near sighted. We both have sharp, quick, and sardonic wit that will turn on you in a moment. We both have kind hearts that are way too big for us. So in our family it looks alike and different. We both have tics. We are both terrified of specific situations especially when they involve social interactions that we are unfamiliar with. But I see in Wee Geek a much better way to adapt than I have. He is so much better at blending than I am. I am amazed at this. His wonderful ability to feel so okay in his skin and to go with it. He tells me sometimes that he feels like an imposter, but he’s not.  I see his acclimation is almost perfect. Of course, I’m still comparing him to me. So, not comfortable in this skin.

So, court. My ex’s lawyer is nothing but a big bully. I imagine that she was just this awful fat kid in school that everyone picked on and then some smartass put her in debate club. Gave her the power to argue. Taught her how to twist the truth into an unrecognizeable blob that means less than the lies that they manufacture to transform them into sharks with bullies living inside. These bullies scream to get out and beat down others to make themselves feel better.

This Friday’s events could have been solved over the phone and through email and fax with my attorney. But no, the asshole’s lawyer is a bully and she threatened me that if I did not go to court on Friday that she would have a warrant put out for my arrest. If you ever for a moment doubt the insanity of my life, think about that for a moment. Think about the massive stupidity of that. It’s no wonder that the stress of the week leading up to Friday made me call a dear drag queen loving girlfriend and beg her to be my drinking buddy for the evening. The three of us NaNo buddies ended up in a local bar. I arrived first. Walked into this bar that is not a usual haunt for me at all with about 15 people sitting inside. Warning, this sounds like a joke….and all 15 sets of eyes turned in my direction and all conversation stopped. For one brief and paranoid moment I wondered if they had been talking about me. I know it’s ridiculous. But I actually thought this, though. I texted my friend. “Hurry up, people are starting to stare.” And a minute later, “Should I put my clothes back on?” The inevitable comment back, “No, honey, it’s not your nakedness that they are staring at.” For a minute, I laughed. Ignoring the double meaning of that. Preferring to laugh it out and be happy that at least my personality still makes me stick out more than being naked in a bar. Just for the record, I was not actually naked.

So, I awoke on Friday morning, after day 5 of crappy sleep with no relief, with at least a renewed sense of being able to cope for at least long enough to get through the fight I needed to wage. I also went with the advice of my lawyer to not give the bullying whore a dime. I was determined. She came out asking me if I agreed to the deal she’d sent to my lawyer. Which was that I would give her $10 a week on top of the garnishment that they are already taking. In Indiana, the maximum that they can garnish from you for a debt is 25% of your pre tax income. Believe me, what’s left over is barely enough to live on. If I wasn’t living in a home that my husband owned with him paying all of the bills, I would never be able to live on my own. There’s not enough left over. This garnishment serves another purpose as well, it makes sure that I can baarely help Wee Geek at all. It’s a damn good thing we’re both so resourceful.

So then the bully lawyer brings a paper asking me to agree to pay $25 a week. She accused me of hiding money. I offered to get a sheriff’s officer and go somewhere so that she could document that there is not a money tree growing out of my ass. She has seen the tax returns, she knows the profit from the book is minimal. My ex is allowed to make over $100,000 a year with no consequences, and I am punished for my meager teacher’s salary. I was emphatic that I would not be signing that paper. She threatened to take me in front of the judge. I agreed that we should go to the judge. I think he needs to hear that her slime ball client kicked his autistic son out of his house into the street without a car, with no idea of where he would go. He cancelled his health insurance and now he can’t get his meds. I think a judge should hear how he’s left our child with a disability and a mental illness without meds and without a home. She disappeared and came back with a paper that basically said I agreed to another garnishment. I did not leave the courthouse until that paper said what I thought it should say.

Ex husband slime ball piece of shit that you are, I know you stalk me online. I know you read my blog. It is illegal for you to open Wee Geek’s mail. In Ohio, he is a legal adult. You also cannot keep his Cobra paperwork from him. I intend to call the insurance company on Monday and make sure that they know that Wee Geek has not received it. That’s illegal, too. Not too damn much you’ve done in the last 20 years has been legal, but we are going to have to overlook some of that. Mostly because we can’t do anything about it.

Wee Geek and I constantly are amazed at how little his father has managed to actually do for him in the last 20 years. We are flummoxed that the court system has let him get away with it and has practically given him a paved access road for doing absolutely the bare minimum. There have been several moments when he’s done even less. Wee Geek tells me little things sometimes. I already knew that his dad was making him pay for everything he touched in his life, using the excuse that I wasn’t helping out in any way. Wee Geek now realises that his dad is a manipulator of the worst kind. He is so tired of his dad getting away with being a chameleon who makes people believe his lies. It’s a little pathetic. It is history repeating itself. This is the way that his father was as well.

So, after all of that. I came home with a headache the size of Texas and absolutely exhausted. I had not slept all week. I called in and told my director that I was done out and taking another personal day. I hate using my paid time off for stupid shit. I slept the afternoon away, intermittently chatting with my girlfriend. Answering a few calls. Talked to the Best Buy guy. I still don’t feel totally caught up on my sleep, but I think that I might actually be able to get some writing done tomorrow. Maybe I can talk my girls into Bingo again this week. We had much fun last week.

This has been an exhausting week. I am done out in so many ways. I do, however, fill like I won a little something. I’m counting it as a win, anyway. Don’t burst my bubble. That would really suck. I hope that I start seeing some more winning feelings coming this way. I’m tired of the way things have been. It’s as if the asshole is trying to make sure that Wee Geek and I cannot enjoy having each other back. It’s as if he is trying to make it so hard that Wee Geek thinks he has to go back there. That won’t ever happen, but I’m sure in the asshole’s twisted little brain that makes perfect sense. He’s an idiot.

So dear reader, Wee Geek and I continue to move forward. Make plans. Live together in these parallel lines. Enjoying each other. Learning how to move in this world as a team. No longer alone. Stronger by that virtue alone.

The Great Cspan Wars and Other Tales of Strife

There have been many wars in our house lately. I know I’m losing them. I’m not stupid enough to think that anything I have to say would ever over rule an ex wife, a kid who shouldn’t be, or a daughter. I suppose the time of all this (cough and sputter) gloriousness os about at its end.

I pride myself for not living under any kind of delusions and for being very honest with myself. I know that I will never rank as high as anyone with blonde hair or who was actually born with the Best Buy Guy’s last name. Nor apparently anyone who he gave his last name no matter how deviously this name was obtained.

The start of this strife was an ex wife’s phone call begging for money. Don’t worry dear reader, that phone number has once again been blocked from our phones. I wouldn’t have minded except for a few minor issues. Number one being that this is not kid’s mother asking for money. I’m sure they make more than we do. It’s insulting. More insulting is the response of the BB Guy in agreeing. This was moment’s after telling me that IF he still had a job in February then maybe we would go do something special for our 10th anniversary. Really? Then don’t send money out the door to a complete stranger. It’s so frustrating. More frustrating when his stupidity rears up and he tells me that we don’t have money together so he can do whatever he wants with his money.

All I can say is WOW! My idiotic moronic ass clown of a spouse has reached a new plateau of stupidity. It’s amazing. More amazing that when I suggested he tell eldest daughter that he had to reduce what he was giving her for the wedding by that amount he agreed that was reasonable. I can’t begin to fathom how fucking stupid this point in my life is. No one wins in this situation. A wedding website has come out as well. Most significantly embarrassing is that we are all pretending to embrace not kid, but still no one knows how to refer to her. I believe she was referred to as “another of my father’s daughters”. Another wow escapes my lips. On the tail of the BB guy telling me he’d give me $100 for Wee Geek’s school to shut me up. See the rampant insanity has taken root!

On the front of Wee Geek I have been on the phone with the lawyer’s office every day for 2 weeks. I don’t know if it’s getting me anywhere, but it certainly is serving to raise my frustration levels beyond nuclear.  School went back this week, but Wee Geek is not there. Still nothing has been resolved. Of course. However, my exes whore lawyer is taking me to court in March to re-evaluate my income. No one addresses the amount of child support I’ve overpaid. No one addresses the ridiculous amount of legal fees that I’m having garnished. No one addresses that my kid is not in school and that his dad is not helping with his living expenses in any way. But by god let’s make sure the whore lawyers get their money. I’m sure this is more about my ex finding out about the book. I’m sure I’m a millionaire now. At least I will be when they are done telling their story.

There seems to be a new judge. I don’t know if this is going to be any better, but I somehow doubt it. It’s never made a difference before. One legal figure in Delaware county is as crooked as the next one.

Note to self don’t divorce the current husband there. It feels like we are barreling toward that direction. All our conversations involve fighting about Cspan lately. I’m sick and tired of fucking Cspan because I realize that all ass clowns in charge are still ass clowns. It doesn’t matter who they say they are affiliated with or what they claim to stand for. They same evil monkeys are pulling the puppet strings and nothing changes because of this. I hate politics. I hate the news. Our tv has been on these inane things every day for weeks. I don’t care what they are promising. It will not change. So tonight the Cspan wars erupted into me being told to shut my fucking mouth and the clicker being thrown across the room. There won’t be any apologies. I’m supposed to start arguing politics and care. I do not. It’s pathetic that 12 years is being reduced to a war over channels on a box. It really boils down to me having to deal with the stressful and awful situations I deal with all day and wanting to come home and just watch nothing. That stupid stuff that doesn’t have to be thought about. It’s nice to not have to solve someone’s problem for five minutes. Silly, I know.

The biggest oddity in my life this week was my Wee Geek turning 20. Who knew? A year ago, I thought I’d never have another birthday with him. BB Guy and I drove over and hung out with old high school friends on Saturday night and then hung out with my mom until Wee Geek decided to show up for birthday lunch. Little did I know that he was waiting for his dad to acknowledge him. He never did. Typical Scott. Wee Geek feels abandoned and angry. I feel angry. It all just sucks lately.

I’m feeling frustrated because I’m not getting any writing done at night. That need to decompress at night is so overwhelming that nothing else can find its way out of my brain. The storyboard is looking gorgeous, however. Even if I can’t find any of the incarnations of the story that I want to work on. I hate the thought of starting over from complete scratch!

I know I’ve been grouchy and bitchy in this posting. I’m sorry. Sometimes you have to vent and obviously I have few chances here in the lovely paradise of the land of the not quite right.

Another day in my surreal autistic life

It’s been a pretty exciting last month. Getting published and having Kale back in my life has certainly done wonders for my morale and well being. Although, I could do without the roller coaster ride of not knowing what’s going on with the court system and getting his college paid for.
I guess it’s just another way for the court to prove to me that they have more control over my life than I do, which as some of you might have guessed is absolutely intolerable in an autistic world.
I finally get an order to stop child support and then they slam me with an order to garnish my wages for an absolutely fictitious accounting of lawyer fees. Why are lawyers such bottom feeding whores? (Sorry, should have used my inside voice for that comment, it’s just that it’s so hard to keep that voice under control when I’m this frustrated with everything). How they expect me to help my son with college when his dad isn’t helping and pay 25% of my “disposable income” to a whore lawyer, I will never understand.
That’s another thing that irks me. WTF is disposable income? I am pretty damn sure that I don’t have any of that and if I did I could damn sure thing of better things to do with it than give it to some worthless lawyer. Sigh.
So, book sales are going pretty well. I’ve sold 50 books my self. Well, almost 50. So, we will see where that gets us….lol.
I’m pretty irked at the system in general for once again letting my ex off Scott-free, now I know where that term came from. He’s never had to pay for his ill and pathological behaviours in any way. They have always rewarded him for being a complete and total ass. Wow does that realisation bring my life into perspective. Not lol.
So, my ex will once again try and get out of contributing anything to Kale’s education whatsoever, or try to put some ridiculous constraints on it. Can you imagine them ordering an almost 20 year old to visit with a parent that he wishes dead? Mark my words, however, this is how that will go.
So, I’m trying to figure out how they made an accounting of the child support file and of course, am getting absolutely nowhere. Because no one in Delaware County seems to actually understand how math works.
I am just in a frenzy for some Delaware county (insert appropriate word here for yourself, because I’m sure there’s nothing that I can list here that will not get me put in jail) something.
So, dearest readers, contact me for payment info on the book, I promise that all profits go to helping my starving artist to stay in school.
Visit my facebook page at Katey Boller and friend me or visit my twitter feed at autiezombiegirl and friend me.

Welcome to my rock star life!

Welcome to my rock star life, fans, friends, enemies, and those of you on the fence with indecision (frenemies)! First of all, I prolly need to mention that the “Dark Souls” book is now out in print and available through the Post Mortem Press website and Amazon. Of course if you want a signed copy and you haven’t reserved one yet, message me with payment instructions or an address to send your already purchased one to for the official signing.
So…it’s making me feel like a rock star that no one’s heard of. I got my author copy last Saturday and let me tell you how exciting and surreal and weird it was. I had just gotten back from seeing my Diamond Boobies in Fort Wayne. I was on the phone with my mom and I reached into the mailbox. When I pulled that envelope out of the mailbox, I squealed and almost dropped it. It was truly awesome to see “Push Button, Get Bacon” on every left hand page of my story and KT Jayne on every right hand side. It felt very surreal. Awesome and terrifying and REAL!
The cover is beautiful. Very scary and fitting. All of the stories are great. Some are weirder than others, some are grosser than others. Some are trying to reinvent the genre. But all of them are very interesting, I promise.
Another bit of news, my son and I went to court this morning. My ex had screwed up his financial aid so bad I thought we’d never get it straightened out in time. I think his evil plan was to keep Kale out of school so he could file to emancipate him. But once again, I stepped in to fix the mess that my ex created. The good news in all this is that I no longer am paying my ex half my paycheck in child support. This is the best part of it all. Of course, it would have been better to see the look on my ex’s face when he saw my son with me, but there was some satisfaction to be gleaned from his lawyer’s face and the fact that she was very upset when my lawyer handed her my son’s schedule and bill for school.
Overall, I’m feeling like a rock star. People are interested in the book and it seems I pick up a new fan everyday. I’ve sold most of my first printing and looking forward to ordering a second. It’s been weird, wonderful, and immensely excited. Stay posted!

Welcome to my surreal autistic life

The last three weeks of my life has been a sort of disconcerting fairy tale. It feels as if I put in some sort of order for dreams to come true and some demented little Santa’s elf decided to make it all happen at once.
Things with my son have been progressing wonderfully. The more time that we are together, the less time that we seem to have been apart. We are slowly getting his pieces back into place and making sure that he can continue to go to school. It looks as if he will probably have to take out a loan to pay for his first semester of this year himself, and then we will have to argue in court about how his dad is going to have to pay him back. The saddest part of all this is that while it was benefitting my ex to be getting money from me that was in no way helping my son (who apparently was paying most of his expenses himself) and that while Indiana was busy letting this numbskull judge stick it to me even though the income gap between us is in excess of $75,000 a year, they are actually entertaining the idea that my ex may be able to emancipate my son so that he won’t have to pay for any of his school.
It’s another abuse in the system that he has been able to take advantage of from the start. In what other universe would a man who has a long and fairly documented history of domestic violence be allowed to continue that abuse through the court. He has been allowed to claim to the judge that he was in fear of his life. I know, we’ve all seen the horror movie where the 150 pound autistic crazy woman murdered a 350+ pound man in pure vengeance. What? You haven’t seen that one? Well, I haven’t either.
He has been allowed to claim that I am crazy and that I caused my son to be mentally ill and think he’s autistic which we all know is one of the worst mental illnesses out there. Oh, wait. It’s a neurological diversity. Not a mental illness. Never mind that I am considered an expert in the field of autism in my area. It’s just crazy to think that I might actually know the signs and might actually have a little bit of expertise in knowing when a kid is on the spectrum (autie-dar completely ignored here). Never mind that I trained with some of the top experts in the state. I am so obviously crazy just because my ex-husband says so in court and therefore makes it law.
Now, the second part of my dreamlike life going terribly askew. I know, you are thinking that I have it all. Great marriage to Best Buy guy of my dreams, great kid…what else could possibly go right? Well, I am now published.
Scary I know. It’s a little publishing house out of Cincinnati that I met down at the Days of the Dead convention. But it’s a short story in an anthology called “Dead Souls”. It’s amazing. Out on Kindle already. We are anxiously awaiting the print release so we can actually hold it in our hands and know that it is true. I will blog more about it and it’s amazing growth later. Stay posted.

A belated blog post

I have been horribly negligent of the blog.  It’s mostly because we’ve had a lot going on and then we were on vacation for two weeks and then were bombarded again.

So to catch you all back  up to date, I had to go to court again at the end of May.  Of course it was the same old crap.  Although the judge did actually tell me that we were there to hear my side of the story.  No one listened, but we were there to hear it all. So this is the bits of pieces that I wrote while waiting and my commentary on the after effects of it all.  Next a mutant blog!

It’s so dementedly disturbing waiting outside court.  It’s a disorienting look at human nature and what it thinks is appropriate.  My ex always comes to court looking like he hasn’t bathed in 6 weeks.  He’s almost always wearing something that looks like he’s been sleeping in it for at least a week and that he’s slopped at least 2 meals down the front of it.

Two kids walk in wearing torn up jeans and t-shirts with inappropriate slogans.  They look like these clothes were their pajamas as well.  Some people wear what I presume are in Indiana standards, their good jeans.  The lawyers all look like slightly rumpled sharks and are fat and happy.  I always think that the picking must be good at the bottom of the sludgepile where they feed.  My ex’s lawyers are the fattest of all.  They have found a particularly good bit of sludge to eat from.  My ex is about 450 pounds, he’s probably the cream of the crop in sludge.

I always take deep breaths and try to keep my brain totally blank. There are so many awful social rules in court and I don’t understand any of them.  I wish someone would write a manual for autistic people who have to deal with the legal system.  Every subtle nuance-y rule seems like it’s amplified times 100 and the punishments for not following the rules seem so much more extreme.

I watch everyone carefully and concentrate hard on repressing my tics.  I’m sure that magnifies my stress level by somewhere close to a million.  I try very haard to not think of this as some kind of freak circus where the illusion is that my ex is a decent human being and therefore worthy of his words weighing more than mine.  But that is exactly what has happened though.  Unfortuneately for him, divorce court issued me x-ray vision and I now can see every lie for exactly what it is.  Of course, for some reason everyone else in this seems to have been issued rose coloured blinders.  For some reason these blinders make him look like some kind of upstanding guy when he’s really a small little man who hides behind facades.  How crafty he is to have learned such important lessons from his father.  Isolate the people you abuse and jump on a church bandwagon.

In all of this, I muse if the Bible banger that figured out the exact date for the Apocalypse could have made a gross miscalculaation of 24 hours?

The zoo in the waiting area has increased.  The mood has escalated and you can feel the anger and the mistrust and the evilness jusst seeping into the air.  It’s a noxious pool of toxic waste. It’s everything I can do to stop myself from throwing up.  This air is not good for autistic people who are barometers of human emotion.

It amazes me how unsafe I always feel in this place.  I know that it’s mostly because coming to court and having to be with my ex makes me remember every strike and every awful word that he ever said.  It makes me have to deal with emotions that I very successfully repress in my real life.  I know that it’s also because I am so stressed and I know that my brain does not function well under stress.  It doesn’t really function at all.  It tries to wrap me up in a little cocoon and protect me.

I know that they’ve done tons of research on Asperger’s and everything is carefully calculated to knock me off kilter.  I spend all of my energy just holding myself together.  There isn’t anything left over.  The other part of all of this is the unfairness of every decision. The judge threatens to throw me in jail every time I turn around.

I thought that once my son was 18 that all of this would be over.  But it’s not.  I always try to keep it in the back of my mind that my ex has some overwhelming feelings to want to hurt me so badly.  I don’t care and I am left sitting here an empty shell with no feelings or anything.  I don’t even care enough to hate him anymore.

It feel so poisonous in court that I can hardly breathe.

In the end, my ex’s lawyers tried to make it look as if I’m an idiot and that my appeal was a childish effort to strike out at my ex for taking my son away.  If only my motivation had been so simple.  In the end, they’ve decided that I’m going to fork out another $7000 in lawyer fees.  Seriously?  I must be sitting on a winning lottery ticket that I don’t know about.  It’s insane.  Where is all this money supposed to come from?

In the end, I am still in the same place.  I have no idea if my son is even actually alive, at this point I have doubts.  I have no idea what his mental state is, although, I am guessing fragile and fragmented at the very best.  I try to not think about it because frankly that well of depression just seems way too deep.

I can’t understand how the judge does not understand how his actions have tempered the course of events.  It’s frightening to me that he has gotten away with calling me retarded and telling me that I’m unfit as a human.  I realise that part of this is because my ex’s lawyers have done their research and understand how to hit me the hardest.

In the end, the judgement makes no difference.  There is no money for them to have.  There is nothing left for them to take that is imp0rtant to me.  All other relationships in my life are coloured by these court interactions.  All other measurements of trust are held up against these interactions.  All other measurements for safety are held up against this.  It’s just the way that it is.

I have no faith in the legal system.  I have no trust in it or in the officers that it employs.  I have no faith that the system will take care of those who cannot take care of themselves, because the system is there to hurt and belittle and step on you.  Don’t ever believe anything different.  My goodness these evil people have made me cynical!

Nothing has changed.

The vacation has made the next step very clear.
Watch out living entity of evil, I’m coming back for more.



Did Asperger’s suddenly become synonomous with retarded?

It’s been a fun time since they kicked my appeal out of the State court. I would have thought that since I’m making $1500 a month less than I was the last time we were in court that they would just thank their lucky stars and move on. But no. My slimy ex-husband now thinks that I should pay his legal fees for the appeal. I mean,seriously. Does this fall under balls the size of Texas or what?
It’s amazing how he continues to prove that this is all about getting back at me and not a single thing about my son. He’s managed to make sure that my son is so afraid of him that he never tries to contact me. I find the entire situation so ridiculous and appalling that I am continuously torn between laughing and crying on a daily basis. At any rate it definitely falls under the too stupid to live category.
I am constantly asking myself how he gets out of bed every morning. But then I remember that he is a gigantic piece of slime. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that this stupidity is being entertained. Going to court in Delaware County is nothing short of a deluded exercise in stupidity.
I keep counting all the ways that my ex-slime continues to try and punish me for leaving him. I just keep wondering when it will be enough. I guess when you are plotting revenge on this level, it’s never enough. It’s sad, really.
In the mean time, I’m expecting to walk back into court and forget that the judge said my disability made me retarded. Who in this day and age still thinks that way? The terms disability and retarded are not interchangeable. I don’t care who says it. There are many capabilities in this world. People who discount others because of their own misguided perceptions and misconceptions than anyone with a disability. When you think about it, who truly has the disability here?

How to turn your frustration upside down

So, for those of you who have been playing the at home version of  “Kick the Autistic Kid” while she’s down, I have an update.  The decision came back from the Appeals court today.  It’s not good.  Basically it was shot down because the venue court did not file stamp things in our file appropriately.  The other reason was because I did not order transcripts.  It was just unreasonable to ask for transcripts of every hearing because they dragged things out so much.  The transcript thing was a ploy to bankrupt me.

So, my head is still somewhat reeling from the disappointment and frustration of it all.  I really needed something to change here.  Of course, true to form, nothing changed.  Di told me to realise that I’m no worse off than I was.  Which I’m not.  I also need to remember that my ex had to spend hundreds of dollars to drag this stupidity out.  Which is a victory, but as one dear friend said, a Pyrrhic victory.  I also need to remember that I’ve very effectively blocked them from doing anything through the corrupt Delaware county courts for a year.  That’s the bonus.

I don’t really know what my next move is, yet.  I’m working really hard on not going into full meltdown, but I have a feeling that it’s not going to last very long.  I guess I feel very depressed, disappointed, and frustrated.  I want to break something and maybe kill a few zombies.  It’s much more frustrating because I’m really trying hard not to be in total meltdown.  It’s not a nice feeling.  When avoiding meltdown, you are usually left with this very angry feeling.

Don’t get me wrong, the angry feeling was mostly already there.  There are a lot of people to be very irritated at here.  The judge, my ex’s lawyers, the system, my ex, Kale, my dad, maybe even me and the Best Buy guy.  I don’t know who to be mad at and that’s even more frustrating.  It just seems like anyone that I’m mad at is not the right person.

There are many people in my life that have supported me throughout all of this.  Di always tells me that I have a right to whatever roller coaster feeling I’m feeling at any given minute of any given day.  The Diamond Boobies gave me the courage to believe in my writing ability and to get through this.  Without them, I never would have believed I could write an appeal.  Or anything that was worth anything for that matter.  The Best Buy guy finally grew a brain and supported me a little better.  I’ve discovered who actually was part of my support system and who was just causing drama.

I’m working very hard to find the positive part of all this.  I’m not having much luck today.  Tomorrow may be better.  My brain needs to feel like it’s drowning for a little while, then it will kick in and figure out what to do next.  I have to have the meltdown to get there, though.  I will.  I always do.  It just sucks to have someone pat my ex on the ass and tell him that what he did was okay.  It’s not what was said, but that’s how my ex will look at it.  A pat on the head.  A big gold star that he is human.  Which he isn’t.  So stop thinking that it’s possible.

I will get through this somehow.  Don’t worry.  It’s always just a little setback and then I can move on.  My brain will figure it out.  It always does.