Denabear Time

Join me on #MyMentalIllnessJourney where I’m #KillingPTSDErryDay from the effects of Childhood Neglect, Molestation, Rape, Sexual Assault During Military Service, Traumatic Brain Injuries, Constant Anxiety, Deep Depression with my #420GoodVibesforVets, #CocoaBeachKetoQueenness my awesome man the #CocoaBeachNativeChiroBoy constantly by my side, and a deep seeding unwillingness to give up!

And so mine set off a shit storm in my immediate family yesterday! Since I’m all about transparency and truth these days. I’ll lay out my side of the story as they are known and they were presented to me. Any opinions will be italicized. I will attempt to keep this fact based. You can make your own judgements.

At the end of the blog, I’ll have a Momster Day Bonus Round….on this day three years ago Momster did or didn’t do what?!?! Is she a sociopath or isn’t she? I can tell you my answer, but I’ll let you judge for yourself!…Okay, I was gone for a minute but I’m back now…yesterday fucking sucked by the way! Let’s give a breakdown of the reasons why May 13th was a shitty day for Denabear in 2018.

  • It’s Mother/Momster Day and my idea of “mother” and biological mother are 2 completely different things.
  • It’s the first Mother’s Day without my Maternal grandmother
  • My Maternal *non-evil* Grandfather Died on this day in 1986, when I was 2 years old.
  • My father committed suicide on this day in 2015, when I was 30 years old…which serves as a constant reminder that Father’s Day is right around the corner.
  • The end of the day delivered a cherry on top. We have lost another High School womate…

I’ve been inundated with people giving thanks to their supportive, loving mothers. Where’s the day where you celebrate surviving a childhood with a sociopathic mother?! Oh that’s everyday I don’t kill myself right? I’m just being a fucking brat right? Or is it bipolar? What is it that you call me this week. Then pass to my brother to pass along in his own snide texts. I have found my voice over you, that’s all. This is a forum for my thoughts and feels. Not yours. You’ll see…Let’s not get it twisted. Without my mother, I wouldn’t be here right? Right! I grew up thinking maybe my parents would have been better off if I’d never been born…I quite literally grew up hating myself. To a degree so devastating…the internal soul rot starts to deep into your gut, muscle, and bones. I full heartedly believe this is how depressed people start to experience physical ailments with IBS, headaches, etc (myself included). With a broken soul is like a fungus. It breads and multiplies in the dark disparity of agony until it eats it finds a weak point to enter each system in your body one by one. This is where self care comes in. It’s medicine for the soul.

That’s how it feels when bad shit happens to you when you’re a kid and you’re parents don’t provide the Maslow hierarchal need of safety.

So let’s set up what started the argument about the missing cash. While batting down he hatches for Irma impacting Florida last year, my maternal grandmother passed away. My last biological grandparent. Gone. We didn’t get a chance to access damage. As soon as we could, we headed up to South Carolina for the funeral. My grandmother had a few IRA’s. This particular one in question was opened in 1999. I say that because I was after my grandfather had passed away and before great grandchild. My grandmother had stated in her updated will that this IRA was to be left to the grandchildren. Herby Changing the heirs from children to grandchildren. Charles Schwab was never updated. It probably went to the wayside it paperwork. As things do. A check was issued from Schwab to the daughters. So there’s the background….Here’s what went down in he facts department. I keep paper trails people…

In an e-mail dated November 7, 2017 the executor of the estate sent an email to both daughters (others were cc’d-NOT MOI) notifying them of the IRA with information contained in the email to contact a representative at Charles Schwab about the payout. Nothing was mentioned at this time about the beneficiary mix up.

A follow up email was sent from the executor November 9th, 2017 stating all the facts laid out above. The IRA was opened in 1999. The will states that the IRA will go to the grandchildren. Also Charles Schwab would not recognize the will and that checks were coming the daughter’s way.

A reply e-mail from Momster in the thread shows up from that evening, November 9, 2017, where “I will transfer the funds to my kids.”

Insert some hearsay….Sometime after this I suppose is when the executor notified me personally about the money outside of the circle. A morsel of info for me to sit and see what the black widow was going to do. Or more silence to add to the rot inside. Like I always say…Puhtay-doe/Puhtah-doe. Two sides to the same mind fuckery.

phone email

December 18, 2017, Another one rings on my phone and it’s a phone snapshot of an email. From my momster to the executor of the estate letting me know that

“Randolph AFB is trying to get in touch with Dena about her temporary disability. He said he had tried to call her several times. If you please pass this along?”

Let me tell YOU fucking something snarky as fuck! Sssssoooo side bar coming…

My therapist suggested that I take a trial 30 day off period with momster. Back in March of 2017! LAST FUCKING YEAR PEOPLE. GRUDGES KILL! It started on a Monday after therapy was repeatedly being stonewalled by what my mother had recently done to rile me up. I had real shit to deal with in therapy and I was paying this women to help me through it. My mom was robbing my therapy sessions from two states away. Shit she still does repeatedly. I walk in week after week going,…okay Today is going to be the day to talk about sexual abuse…nope nope it’s mom day again. It’s all about mom. mom mom mom. Mother Fuck!

The previous Thursday I as tactually as I could muster, requested my mother to not disturb me while I was studying for an important test. I was devoting some much needed study time to a Calc III exam desperately needed a passing grade. My mind had been so many other places than class that it wasn’t happening this semester…again. So what does she do? Texts me and gets me into the middle of a fight my brother over her wedding quarrel. In hindsight maybe I should have shut off my phone or silenced it, as is now a lesson learned. When I need to focus I always do not disturb my phone so I take control of my own feelings and when I allow other people to interfere. Here I was trying to set my first ever boundary with her. Gem and the Hologram’s Speed Girl for trying! My boyfriend was out of town and I was hoping to hear from him…He was too busy cyber stalking his ex’s to have time to commune with me. Plotting how to break up with me when he come home on Easter Day when after he was caught in a tangle of lies. Its exhausting and takes a lot of time up I know…another story for another day. There went studying. All my focus went into why can’t you just be a fucking mom and respect my ONE GODDAMN REQUEST TO LAY OFF TONIGHT?!  SCHOOL IS FUCKING IMPORTANT TO ME!!! Parents for real just don’t understand. Where’s my Fresh Prince?

My mother never finished high school. Swears she should have been a psychologist…That a crystal ball told her once, maybe it was twice now. BWAHAHA. She only cares when I’m at the finish line so she can show me off like a trophy. The struggle to get there…WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?!?! I text my best friend one day that I suffer from constant secondplacedom….Epiphany moment…It’s because I’m an one woman fucking show. Always have been. The winners in life always have the boost of a strong person behind them. I’ve never known what that’s been like until now with my fiancé. My dad tried but was so overshadowed. Folding clothes, washing dishes, doing house work, starting dinner, taking care of Alex always took precedent over my school work growing up. Why would now be any different? I have no idea how I graduated at the top of my class. I thank my best friends J & R for that! Thanks for not giving up on me girls I wish we were closer now.

So I bring all this up because she raged against the 30 day period. My brother’s wedding fell in the middle of the 30 day trial so face to face interaction was inevitable. Fucking horrendous!! Luckily with Bestie Bradley by my side I felt the strength to return a ring she’d given me on my high school graduation day. What was supposed to be a heartfelt moment was taken like a slap across the face. I have viewed that ring as a vessel for my “good” grandfather to look over me all these years. The fact she gave it to me meant so much. I know she cannot put her words into those actions. That ring said it all. Her father had given her that ring when she was 16. I wore it faithfully on my lefthand saying I wouldn’t take it off. Not until it was replaced by a ring given to me by a man that deserves my finger. Every time I had seen her since my father killed himself, she would look at the ring. Touch it even. I wanted to give her the ring as a token to look back over her because I knew I was going to be alright. In hindsight I was ramping up for my suicide. I was getting rid of all things close to me at that time preparing to leave. Her reaction didn’t help. It ALL WENT WRONG! We haven’t been the same since.

I decided in September that I wanted to get serious about starting a new life with my boyfriend. I’m more of an avoider than a straight forward person. Or at least I used to be, haha! SO I changed my number to wipe clean the dating slate. I’m very careful about who I give it out to because I’m very weary of having toxic people in my life.  However I went into a little dip of depression as I went into seclusion for a few months. She took this personally. Let me say I have never, EVER changed my e-mail address. I kept it there in case of emergency. so she has always had it.

Back to the forwarded e-mail text…(I know that was a long story did you lie it?!?! Part 2!) Why in the fuck couldn’t she just forward this Randolph AFB E-mail to me instead of getting a third party in the middle? A third party that has NO FUCKING BUSINESS knowing about my disability situation…Petty bullshit if you ask me…I mentioned to the executor that it was still radio silence on the money. More hearsay…it was mentioned that my mother send a text to her sister stating that they should keep the money. It was their daddy’s money and they deserved it.

Jump to the day after my first blog post about Momster. She asked for my social security number…WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK? Before I had a chance to give it her her, she was able to recite it. Over text. Unsecure as fuck…my mind immediately went to…Shit! She’s gunna order a hit on me for this fucking blog. Still may happen. If I show up on a milk carton…I’m just sayin…the woman holds a fucking grudge. If you don’t take anything else away from this today. So when I asked why she wanted my social?…all she told me was the is was for “her annuity.” STILL NO FUCKING MENTION IF THIS IRA. I’m feeling like a ticking time bomb at this juncture and it was only a matter of time before I was going g to bring it up.

Social Phone Convo

Momster had also asked me for a favor during all of this. She is sending her right hand woman and family to Disney World. Let me set something serious down right now. I’m not diminishing that my momster’s right hand lady does not deserve this. She absolutely does! She is an amazing woman that struggles everyday more than I could ever imagine. She and her daughters deserve the world! Anyhoodles…being a Florida resident, Disney is “the man” ’round these parts. Getting discount tickets for her was going to be impossible. People try to game the system e-v-e-r-y day! Not me…That’s not really my style. There was a promotion if she was willing to send them 3 days earlier that would have saved her money. That was it. I’m also a veteran which qualifies me for some special benefits every now and again if Disney decides throw us a bone. These bones are only transferable to family. I gifted if to my brother for his wedding present last year. I’m sure he’d rather choke on a donkey dick than take something from me, but the offer still stands.

The guilt trip surmounts from a distance. My mother has this aggressive way of trying to get what she wants. You try to set a boundary and say no…then she’ll bring it up every time you talk until the event passes that she’s guilting you about. However if by chance you speak before the events passing, she has to see if she’s chipped away enough at your soul. Enough to change your mind. Resisting her is fucking mentally hard. No means no MOM! GEEZ! I explained there was no way I could get the tickets for them. The only way to potentially get around it was for me to go to the park with them. I could POTENTIALLY get the kids in discounted. However her schedule was strict and so was mine. Politely, no. I don’t have time for that in the turnaround she was demanding. The answer was no. This was sent 13 April 2018. Low and behold, 10 May 2018  Ding, You’ve Got Mail or whatever sound your shit makes…swish? She was purchasing tickets. This woman emails me to verify that I can still get the girls tickets. Right? WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND ABOUT THE WORD NO?! At first I answered cordially with a no but went to bed steaming. I woke up out of the bed and my breaking point response…“Maybe you can use part of the withheld $5000 you kept from Alex and I. Then we both helped you pay for the tickets.”

And the shitstorm began with backtracking and trying to defend herself. It all started with her first reply. “What are you talking about?” Playing ignorant….Her only defenses:

1. She was doing ME A FAVOR by holding the money and paying taxes on it for me-I am a grown adult I can make my own decisions…you didn’t even ask me. My financial situation is better in my thirties than yours ever has been. That was before my inheritance.

2. She had told bro and I about above number 1 and that she was giving it to us next year-Yes, this is partially true. You told only bro! Then claimed you didn’t know how to get a hold of me because I cut you out of my life. You have always had my email. I have made that abundantly clear. Your level of pettiness is why we are here. Also, were you planning on collecting the interest and then giving us the principle back?

I tried to warn Alex about what had transpired. Before this day I thought she was screwing both of us. Nope just me. I was told I was being bipolar. Is it my mission in life to make her life a living hell? Take that shit off instagram. I’m paraphrasing because the text really triggered me. What about…maybe wonder for a second is it her mission to make mine a living hell? She’s done a damn good job the last few decades….They tend to gang up on me when I find my voice. My ally is gone now. It makes it so clear. The power struggle that was in my house all along. I was ignorant to it. Classic daddy’s girl and momma’s boy.

Bro and I both grew up with defects. Alex’s you could see on the outside. He ended up being homeschooled for a year because of extensive surgeries. My momster has always felt a deep guilt for having to work during his developmental years of school. She didn’t have to with me. My dad wasn’t trying to build a business. She has told me this, it’s not an assumption. She had to work to help my dad start the family business once Alex was of that age. It’s spring this time Alex had one on one attention that helped my mother identify his learning disability. All the while I was struggling in school everyday after 7th grade. I couldn’t concentrate! Feeling so dammed determined not to come home with bad grades, I rarely dipped below a B. So my issues went under the radar. My momster had Alex checked out and medicated. She bought into the meds of those kind of doctors that helped Alex. I left the nest in 2002. I didn’t fly as far as I would have liked, but I got the fuck out as fast as I could. Note-this is the ONLY time my parents decided to go sit for a family portrait session. Guess who’s not included in the family? My mom and Alex look so happy in that picture. A hole tears in my heart every time I look at it. I left home where I was trying to protect him from her…and he developed what I can only deem as Stockholm Syndrome.

She continued to coddle him up until…well until he moved away from her and started his own family. Here I was trying to get as far away from them as possible. Pay my own bills. Buy my own things. I’ll figure it out. My brother was the polar opposite. My mom and I would argue all the time on the phone. When was she going to pop her titty out of his mouth and stop babying him. She was still paying his car insurance, phone bill, car payment, etc. All after his 21st bday! I had to earn my first cell phone by making a ONE HUNDRED PERCENT on an ALGEBRA FINAL in TENTH GRADE! She and my dad would fight all the time as well. He was team pop the titty too! They had cut me off and hanged me to dry a few times. They never let Alex dangle. He always had the safety net. He doesn’t remember having to make cheese and ketchup sandwiches. The only thing I could: 1. reach in the fridge and pantry, 2. throw together around the age of 4. Every morning sitting by yourself watching tv because you weren’t allowed to play with your friends until mom was up. Mom never got up before noon. My friends would come and knock hour after hour wondering if I could come out and play. Still waiting on mom….All while your dad was out busting his ass to get you out of that trailer park into a better situation.

“A check is in the mail!” I could quite easily hear her spitting at me through her teeth on the few words on the e-mail. Are you mad at me because I asked for MY MONEY? Are you mad that you were caught in a lie? Or that you’re having to prematurely pull a CD out so you won’t collect interest on my money?

I’ve mourned the mother I wanted and I’m become her within. This is my self love. I literally had a funeral for momster. It was during my 30 day break. I cried and laid in bed as I realized I was mourning the “idea of mother.” What I needed mother to be. Not what my mother was. That funeral was also a celebration of life. I was able to see my mother for who she really is. There is no helping her. For she is perfect in her own eyes and can do no wrong. Why do you think everyone leaves you mom? Everyone else can’t be the problem. Yes you have had to endure fucked up shit the rest of us…but it has all made you unbearably bitter, manipulative and an emotionally inept. I recognize that I struggle with alexithymia a great deal. I thrive when people try to label me because that’s when I do everything in my ability to break the stereotype. (another issue with boundaries my therapist says) I’m a sponge for knowledge. Slap me with a label. I’ll become a temporary cyberchondriac on the subject and gain as much knowledge on the any subject so I can overcome it. It’s what I do! There’s no end to knowledge and your knowledge is something no one can rob from you. Hence I’m devastatingly scared of dementia and Alzheimers…another bridge into the Ketogenic Diet. A possible story on my grandmother’s demise in the future. And… how I don’t believe everything happens for a reason. That’s not a belief of Secular Humanism. However, life is a series of random events. If you don’t learn from it you’re wasting your one change you have on this planet to exist. Life the fullest by making the most positive impact combined with ever making your environmental footprint as small possible. Living life is all about learning new things and adapting them to make you a better human being.


As promised Momster Day Bonus Round….

A collection of She Did’s and She Didn’t that didn’t fit into this long ass story that veered off course many times. They may show up in later stories.

  • She did not come to visit me after I checked myself into an inpatient facility after a suicide attempt
  • She blamed the fact that she didn’t want to hear me say that my father touched me…WHAT THE FUCK?!?! Assumptions much?!
  • She did not try to help my father when she found him naked crying on the ground the night before his suicide
  • She did tell him to get over it and be a man…the next day he killed himself and left a note that said FUCK YOU SHARON
  • She tells me I’m bipolar when I share my thoughts and feelings
  • She blames my medication when I’m rightfully happy
  • She blames my medication when I’m rightfully angry
  • She blames my medication when I’m rightfully sad
  • She guilts me for taking control of my life and asking for help from a therapist
  • She shames me for seeing a therapist
  • She told me my therapists will only want to blame her…maybe she was right
  • My bro told me while I was in inpatient that all the sexual assaults and rapes I’ve endured were my fault because I drank to much…

You guys decide who is toxic here…



This post is dedicated to Katie Oliver

You will be missed soul sister. You were alway a down ass chick!

RIP 5-13-85 to 5-13-18

5 thoughts on “A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words…

  1. darrineb says:

    This is probably the best thing you’ve done for yourself ever. Could’ be prouder even though it was difficult reading and even more so knowing that we were so close and didn’t know so we couldn’t help.

    1. denabear84 says:

      Thank you for being supportive now. That’s what counts. Love you!

  2. Shirley says:

    Stay strong you have a good and strong support system with who you are with now.

    1. denabear84 says:

      Yes I do!

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