Groove

With all the flying faeces that has happened to me in the last several months, it’s no wonder I lost my groove djing.  I had to pretty much stop for two weeks, while I did what I had to do.  I ran myself ragged, trying to get resources for me and my kids.

He closed the joint account.  In closing it, he screwed me and the kids out of a lot of money.  My gofundme seems to have reached its peak, and there’s no one else I can ask for help.

I carry on.  For my kids.  I have to.

Because that’s what mothers do.


Spitfire has been a light in my dark.

The ironic thing is that I haven’t cried yet.  I’ve had a couple of short breakdowns, but I haven’t bawled like I did when I was in my 20s.  Long story that, but something similar happened to me.

Am I actually relieved that he’s no longer watching my every move from his computer?  Relieved that he’s no longer telling me how much weight he’s going to lose?  Relieved that he’s no longer hiding his relationship, and how deep it had gone, from me?

I think I am.

He was killing me, sitting there, monitoring my every move.  He was keeping a table of when I would get up and how long I sat and more.

He claims I was doing financial abuse, but what I was doing, he agreed to originally, in order to protect his paycheque. I hated being in charge of the finances.  When he demanded that he get added to the bank account, I was apprehensive.  He lied about his secret bank account, and I have proof.  It was for him to escape me.  The account I added him to?  He closed it, and really messed up my finances for the month, and more.

He didn’t need to escape if he had been truthful in the first place.  If he had said, “I’m scared you’re going to kick me out cause my relationship with her is getting deep,” we might have been able to stay married.  He knew I wanted nothing to do with her, and wanted him out of her influence.  Instead, like a moth to a flame, he flew straight for her.

Sooner or later, he’s gonna get burnt.


I know they’re reading my blog.  Why wouldn’t they?

My kids, the other lights in my darkness, are supporting me in whatever way that kids can.  The youngest has been with me as I ran around to get help.  The middle helped with cleaning cause of the landlord inspection.  She was the lead in that.  She’s also not impressed with her father and has told him in no uncertain terms that she will not have a relationship with him so long as he’s in a relationship with that woman.

I have to back her on that.

The kids know where he is staying.  I can’t stop them from seeing him.  They don’t want to, and he’s not clueing in.  He can demand all the visits he wants, but if they don’t want to see him, I am not forcing them.

We want him back, but not with her in his life.


He was the “able-bodied spouse-in-the-house.”  I should be in a wheelchair, I kinda was, if you call a mobility scooter a wheelchair.  He didn’t clean or do chores right.  Sure, he did them, but he’d leave them half done.  The kids have picked up on his chore habits and I don’t like it.

I was on my hands and knees, scrubbing the floor with a toothbrush, to try to get the place clean enough to pass the inspection.  I scrubbed the carpet by hand too.  So did each of the kids.  It still isn’t clean enough, and I can’t afford a pro to come in and do it.

If he’s cost me my tenancy because he doesn’t know how to clean, I will never be able to forgive him.  I’ve pushed myself as far as I could go, and have had to take the last two days easy, to recharge my batteries.


I have two job interviews in the next few days.

I hope I get one of them.

I have been approached by various scams and more for “quick money.”  The latest one was from Singapore.  Not cool, dude.


The fires in the province have caused us to have a state of emergency.

I had to spend the last of the money I have on an air purifier so that two of us could breathe.

In irony, he said he would pay the car payment to a former friend, and the friend flipped out at me.  I asked for it as a “good faith” child support payment, and he refused.

I was the liar?


So, I had stopped djing for about two weeks. I did one set during it, and finally, on Friday, I started Djing again.  Spitfire did CFNM for me on Sunday, then I did the Lovefest/Whip joint set for four hours straight.

Today, I did Xaara.  I’m getting my groove back, according to Spitfire.

I also posted a part of one of my twiddles – one of my short stories elsewhere.  Of course, after posting it, I can see a few places where my editor coughSpitfirecough missed. I can fix it if I repost it. It’s a mind control piece.  I’m proud of it, and I want to rework the parts I’ve written, and add more, and maybe have a story to sell.


A couple of other lights in my darkness that I have found – my hivesisters, Mum, and the next door neighbour we have – K.

When the social worker showed up here, K stayed to be my support.  I was not happy that the kids were interviewed by her alone.  I don’t think that’s legal, but social workers here work above the law.

Between the two of us, K and I should be able to keep our combines families of 12 fed.  She’s helping me, and I’m now her taxi, but we exchange other services.  The bikes are in her car port and we share food and other resources and more.

Eleanor and other hivesisters have been emotionally supportive.  Mum too, although she waggled her finger at me once.


I am carrying on. It’s what mothers do.

Now I have my music to carry on with.

I’m back, baby!

Aag ki jwaalao se hee
Rait baney Loha

Only after enduring the tests of fire
Iron is forged

Bloodywood – Jee Veerey

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