Who Said Locked Wards aren’t Fun!


Well that didn’t take long before Kleo wound up back in the locked ward now did it.

So lets look at the timeline here:

  • Doing ok. Pretty good husband for the most part until…. stays up with nut job Mom in July.
  • Comes homes, orders “bath salts” to mommys house
  • Says he’s leaving his wife
  • October, days before, he finds out USSA will pay out $60k for his lie about his car
  • Starts drinking, doing whatever and assault me
  • Goes to jail
  • Nutty mom rushes to rescues her son, both set sail in the crazy town sunset
  • Lives with mommy, does more drugs, gets in more trouble and has too many commitments to keep track of.
  • Manipulates the system and me, gets away with everything.
  • Moves back to PA, does ok in his homeless housing until poof, more money comes in.
  • Decompresses, hires hookers, does drug, gets the shit kicked out of him…
  • Gets arrested *again*
  • Of course mommy saves the day! What would we do without someone to enable us anyway.
  • Runs to mommy and lo and behold

Yup, he’s back in the hospital.  I’m sure it’s not his own doing, it never ever is.  Just ask momz.  There are two common denominators here.  Him, of course, and his mother who is seriously whacked – the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

Before running back to crazy mom, he was terrorizing my family.  Sending creepy and right up to the line threatening text messages.  After he got a PFA on me and tried to have me evicted from my own home, once we didn’t play into his game he skipped town.

I guess my normal side will always struggle with this crazy reality.  How he gave up an ok life, and a life that he had power and control over how it panned out.  He could have used the supports, he could have not lost himself in this.

Instead, he’s a statistic and a person who failed at the basics of life.

It’s all so very sad for him.

I’ve contacted the Detective and with any luck they will yank his bail and he can find himself in prison – where he really does belong.

Disney anyone?


When I write, it can often feel that my life is and has been all consumed by SK

It’s not.

It was slow going and lots of work, coupled with even more work 😉  I tell bits and pieces of the story as a modality to give it less power over the shame and secrecy that is all too often the bastard child of domestic violence.

Today during therapy, my therapist told me it’s not over yet, I’m not through it yet.  I guess the strong side of me was miffed at his conclusion.  I’m doing pretty fucking spectacular how could I not be over the shit show?!

I told him about a weak patch I had last week, it was short lived.  It didn’t take me to my knees or put my life on hold.  The grasp it once had is so minimal now, so when the intense moment hit, it hit hard.

Why?  I wanted to know why?  What the fuck is wrong with me?

I got something out all of this…. That’s your therapeutic take!  Fuck off.

However, that is the truth of it all.  I gained, I grew and I went through the grit, grind and reality of it.  While remaining in reality.

SK on the other hand is smart enough and could be self-aware enough to get to the other side of his own shit.  He takes the easy route, so he doesn’t have to do the hard work of owning any fucking part of his bowels of life that he self-created.

His reality is hiding in a substance that in turn makes him a monster.  He becomes violent, nasty, cold and calculating.  He thinks crazy shit because he is ok being crazy.

The trusty old therapist said it is because I gained from this, is why I lost.  I lost something that was real and tangible.

I lost my identity of being a wife, of loving a man that was once good and was once my husband.

It was a high cost to pay but I gained sense of self and self-worth.  I lost something that was real as I watched a person I still love, lose reality.

Nothing in his life is real anymore.  Everything that was real, is so far in his past that he’s racked up years since they existed.  His reality is thinking his car is invincible, the government is following him or his the joker *and* batman simultaneously.

Why?  Because drugs do that shit.

I don’t have that problem, go me.


Sudden Death OT

Finally, a holiday that wasn’t ruined by the weight of SK and his own brand of crazy.  I can’t say if it was more in the change of venue or systemic changes in our family unit.  I don’t give a fuck why, I am, however, very content today.

SK is way out there in la la crazy town and the concept of ‘go the fuck away and die, alone, under a cold rock’ hasn’t yet been fostered in his standard run of drug induced psychosis.  I don’t have credentials to make a clinical dx but historically speaking… when god is telling you to do things, when you need to drive fast in your new $130 car that is invincible (while living in a half-way house for the homeless), all the while sending messages to the prez (who isn’t doing as SK thinks would be prudent) cause mommy need her exorcism.

It doesn’t seem all that stable or sane now does it.

Nope, I didn’t think so either.

As classically manipulative as SK has proven himself to be, he did try to weave his crazy back in, *again*.  Dude, you’re more bat shit crazy than mom!

His messages to the kids come in spurts, he walks right up the line of ICC before he makes himself look like the unhinged drug addict he is.

Sending messages that I should be inpatient, to call crisis intervention and get me help…How does SK draw such a conclusion?  Well, it seems that having 6 psych evals and *another* involuntary commitment makes him the authority on the stability of those of us who function in society.

Who knew! Why announcing that equates to a positive is fucking funny shit.

Of course his messages were not just about me, after all, he checks off many cluster B boxes and is a living definition of a pathological narcissism.  If he tells his highly spun version, perhaps my children will jump ship.  Poor poor sk ☹

How could they not come visit him in the hospital?  He lost “70k”, he had his “head fractured, 6 broken ribs and a punctured lung”.  How could they do this to him, so very sad isn’t it…

Just because the *whole* story isn’t told, doesn’t mean it ceases to exist or hold relevancy to the big picture.

It isn’t that none of us at home don’t care, it’s because we cared so deeply and so profoundly, chasing a ghost.  It is because we lived being collateral damage for too long.

It only would have taken an apology and commitment to sobriety and a real, valid and intrinsic desire not to want to live life that would feed unhealthy vs. healthy.

Just because I picked healthy, doesn’t mean I don’t care.  It just means I care about me being as healthy as I can.

This is the ‘man’ whose last name I have like a scarlet letter.  This is the ‘man’ who takes zero responsibility for not being able to see his child, who can’t afford a lawyer to at least get supervised visits.

He blames the mom.  Not that he dumped money, bought (buying?) a $130,000 car so he can impress his hookers (so sorry, escorts) that he’s actually someone…

I could, in theory give enough fucks to have his crazy ass committed and attempt to mitigate his damage to self. flyers

Or…I could take my kids to philly, stay at a nice hotel downtown, go to a flyers game and live my life.  Each day, I take more and more of who I am without the biggest of my mistakes following me around like a haunted shadow.

I don’t care enough to hate anymore.

Happy Chocolate Bunny Day


The Voice of My Daughter | Don’t Fuck With My Family, We Are Stronger Than You Know

SK sent out this mass message on FB messenger.  He seemed to have handpicked those to share his vile orchestration of “truth”.  He spoke about my children as though he has had any meaningful relationship, influence or presence in their life.  It wasn’t a public message, those were all just highlighting his instability and crazy campaigns to raise money.  Pony up a buck or two and he would let you drive his shinny new Karma that cost $130,000.

That’s logical.  Man lives in transitional housing but can afford that… hmmm…

But he “loves” these kids.

His love fills them with fear, unknowns and instability.  My biggest fuck up in life is that I let him into theirs.  My children have learned the dance of domestic violence and how to exist near him so he doesn’t get angry.  They know what he’s done.

We were supposed to have a prelim hearing today, the detective asked if my children would testify.  They all said yes.  They will all tell you they love SK but he is not safe, and he is his not healthy.

They have concerns of going against him, fear to testify and make him angry.   I get that.

My daughter, who SK used to gain sympathy, validation and ego stroking recognition in his handpicked FB message.  He capitalized on her, using her personal and private story for gain.  This is again a striking example of psychological and emotional abuse/manipulation.

SK will spin and manipulate but he cannot take credit for strength I’ve earned and my children have earned.

My 12yo wrote this to read at court today, she has to wait though because SK couldn’t make court – he’s still in the hospital (presumably), after whatever altercation he had that landed him in the hospital.

Her words to both SK and the Court:

“You Sir, made me feel unsafe in my own home.  Constant fear rushed through me.  I had 911 on my phone walking home from the bus stop.  And that is not how I want to live.  Not being able to sleep at night, as you are threatening my mother.  You need help.  You have a daughter, your biological child, unlike J, D & Iz, or I.  She needs you.  I thought I needed you. 

I don’t.

Bus she does Kleo.  She needs her father.  You say you want to see her but you make no efforts.  This is all your fault. 

Don’t try to blame my family.”

“People, you are dealing with a psychopath.  I should not have to be here today.  None of us should.  I should be in school getting an education so I can go into Egyptology.  But I am here. 

You manipulated us, or so you tried.

You wanted us for money.  You don’t love us.

Folks, you are not dealing with a regular criminal, you are dealing with a smart person who will try to beat the system.  Please don’t let him.

I am 12yo and I live in fear.  It’s not fair.  I should not have to live like this.  Lock him up so I can stop living in fear that I’m going to get hurt”


My 12yo has more integrity and self-respect than a grown man who attempts to use a fabricated relationship with children.

She is one reason why I have broken my silence.  Why I tell my story.


PS: Fuck you SK.


SK showed up again in my life early March.  In fact, I came home to him in my living room.  Unannounced, uninvited, just showed up after not living here for a year and a half.  I mean literally too, I came home and he had let himself in as though all was right with the world.

He seemed ‘off’ but not drunk or high, more off.  He mentioned cough syrup in passing.  Next thing our home is being showered with all sorts of deliveries from Amazon.

Apparently he made bank with a SSDI payment of 100k.  He wanted me to jump on board with the ever growing grand plans.

When “God” started to talk to him, when he said he needed to go to Italy to help exorcise the population that was possessed, I knew my suspicions where valid.

Weeeee, another round of drug induced psychosis.   As much fun as it ever was!

SK did his thing in Atlantic City, he went up to see batshit crazy mom.  Good.

Obviously my fatal flaw was any kind of push back, which I knew was inevitable and I also knew was an incredibly dangerous position to put myself in.  Damned if I did and dammed if I di dn’t.

Crazy K, it isn’t another go around where you call yourself “Lord Baltimore” and everyone is trying to save you from yourself.

I can’t talk to him and tell him go take your crazy money spending, buy your stupid $130k car, because living in a homeless shelter and buying a Fisker Karma with your questionable SSDI bank is ideal….

Why couldn’t I say that to him??? Because in this round of crazy, he done went and filed a PFA on me.  Where he *lied*, told the court he lived here and he cared for *my* children.

I can’t tell him that I’m not playing this game, nope.  He got a PFA on me.

I can’t tell him that he may have spent a week buying out Amazon and thinking that ‘stuff’ would buy off my childrens loyalty and they would somehow bow down to the almighty Kleo.  That it would somehow erase what they went through, how disposable they were until they could be means to “$50k a kid if…” If I would say he provided more than “half their care” since 2013.

As he pays for escorts and buys $130k cars…living in transitional housing.

I got the “fuck” out of his “way”, as I was demanded to.  His answer to that was to use the legal system to have me evicted from my home and take on my 3 kids as his.  Anything for a payout.

That is a bullshit lie.  For someone who “loves” my children as his “own”.  Sitting in a hospital because he probably got the shit kicked out of him (finally) for running his self-important, crazy, arrogant mouth.

I didn’t jump on board with his SSDI gig of letting him claim my kids, so he got a PFA on me.

Now, I have to pay money to defend myself.  I might sit my ass at a law firm most days of the week, but I don’t get any free legal representation.

I don’t go out and buy escort services and $130k cars.  I pay my bills and raise my children.

And SK just made my life and my childrens life another stressor to overcome.  Money to defend myself and protect my children.

Money I don’t have.  Money that could have gone to my $1,000 electric bill, or money that could have gone to a fucking vacation…you’ve no idea how much we crave a vacation lol.  But we are happy with heat, food, lights and little things like going bowling or a movie.

SK took some of that away because that money will go to my attorney instead to defend against a bullshit PFA.  To defend and protect me, my home, my kids from his lie of a PFA.  A PFA stunt he pulled, in all likelihood to get another big paycheck from SSDI – using my kids.

That’s what he does, he used people and then he hurts them and drops them, leaving everyone else to deal with his mess.

If he didn’t have this bullshit PFA on me, I’d tell him *AGAIN*.  Stay the fuck away from my kids.  This self-induced round of crazy, thanks to over using cough syrup – has him

STILL CONTACTING MY CHILDREN.  Do you really think that after you tried to kill their mother, after you choked her, after they saw the bruises, the broken blood vessels in the eyes and watched their mother hold everyone together while clawing out of the PTSD of the assault and having live ripped apart.

That a fucking tablet will make them jump ship??

That child/parent bond is elusive isn’t it?  I guess my kids have something called security and consistency in life (albeit, I’ve had my share of fuck ups).

I’d tell him to go have his ego stroked by the skank escort.  Leave us alone.  We have all said that.

You had your chance.  This is mine.  This time I’m not letting there be space where you can convince me of doing what is “right” for you.

I’m paying for PFA defense.  Fuck you.

I’ve got support from the local police force I didn’t have before, I’ve got support that the victim advocacy failed at before.

It only takes one person, it only takes one person who has the authority to make legal calls.

That one person told me to hold on, to trust, that my family is a priority – not a padded SSDI check.

It’s never been about the money.  Always the integrity.

I’m going with the integrity.




I’ll admit that today I am struggling, I would ponder that notion that because I am a human capable of a range of emotions… disgust, disdain, anger, compassion…

Hate would be a very comfortable place to cozy on up to.   I’m supposed to work on sitting with a feeling and not burying under a stoic front.  I guess that’s one down fall of not being a spineless sociopath.

My ‘husband’ is in the hospital from what I was told, because of a fight.  Broken ribs, a punctured lung.  A part of me is ok with that, he can feel what it’s like to have your own body hurt by the hands of another human being.  The other side of it is just a sadness, but I know that sadness is based on my own reality and my own experiences.

When I was a trauma patient, I wasn’t alone.  I had someone there holding my hand who became my voice and advocate when I needed it.  Even so, I did have a moment where I just do desperately wanted the hand I was holding to be my husbands.  Wanting that one person when you truly need is a fierce emotion to place when deep down inside you know they are not going to give a shit.  He didn’t.

I’m not that kind of person.  I did want to go see my ‘husband’, if I were to be honest, I wanted him to want me there holding his hand.  That’s an emotion that had to come and go.  As did the guilt of not making any effort to check on him…even in my disgust of him.

Today it was hard to engage in *anything*, I had to motivate myself to leave the house, go to Starbucks and get an overpriced coffee.   I heard the song that played the very first time we danced…unless we did as kids but I don’t remember that.

I did cry.  My therapist would give me a gold star for going through the emotion. Care or not, cry or not.

His version of this new round of crazy will always be just left of reality.  Sending messages to my “4th kid”, an 18yo friend of my daughter and I swear to fuck the “sister” of my son (the sibling spats are mind boggling… ) Telling her he needs to have an exorcism done on his mother, sending crosses to us to fend away the evil that is me.  Attempting to make plans to pick her and my daughter up in is $130,000 car (that he was going to get ‘blessed’ by the bishop) so they can hang out at his hotel… and on and on.

Because normal people do that shit.  Normal people show up in a house after being void of living here after a year and half – not thinking for one moment the impact that would have on the children – or me.  But I don’t count.


Normal is going to court, making a total ass of yourself and trying to have me evicted from my home and lying saying he lives here with *my* kids.  The kids I had to hold my shit together enough as a single mom who had he life ripped apart, no Disney trips for me.

This is another iteration of his Lord of Baltimore stint, this time though he’s in the hospital not (I hope) someone that he hurt again.

This time, I am not the person I was.

This time his crazy shit, that it’s pretty fucking probable was brought on by some ‘drug’ or chemical influence, is cut and dry set in motion by him and him alone.  This was not me with my clothes torn off hiding on a roof begging 911 to hurry up because I was fuckin petrified he would find me.

This was his crazy ass going behind my back to see my children, and he is not safe like this.  One only needs to look at his violent criminal record to see that.

He decided I needed “help”, god was talking to him…and he was sad the “agency” was following him and 45 didn’t take note of his suggestions.  He sent the cops to my house in a manipulative fashion to have me “302’d” aka, ‘committed’ to a locked ward.  He knows all about them, I stopped counting after the 10th stay.

Cops came to my house, upset my children.  Then I thought SK drove by, I called 911 and he entered my home against my will.

This is the difference, which is both sad and infuriating.  These charges are not something I pushed for, unlike 10/19.

I’m sad and infuriated because none of this ever had to be like this.  But it’s clear that whoever he is now is nothing more than a drug addict with a propensity to violence.

He hurt my kids before, he won’t again.  This time I am emotionally prepared to follow through with a long term PFA. This time I am aware of the charges and consequences of them.

This time there is enough of the type of supports in place to keep him from ever talking to me again, which really just equates to him not being able to manipulate me so he gets away with it again.

This time I’m emotionally ok with what I know could happen, if it does, I will be sad but sad is better than living in fear and it’s better than dead.

Thanks for fucking everything up by not owning being an addicted that is abusive and violent.




Pendulums & 200,000 Bail – Only SK

It’s been a while since I’ve been compelled to put feeling to the false veil of anonymity that the web provides.

I’ve sent a sarcastically scathing email to the family based team that listening to them has resulted in another broken bone.  This time my arm.  In true form though, I fell skiing, got up and went back to the top of the mountain. Can’t let a broken bone stop me.

Next day I carried myself to urgent care, head hung low… breaking your dominant arm.-Who knew wiping your own ass could be such a challenge.

Special K made a grand appearance, showed up at my house unannounced.  Scared the fucking shit out of all of us.  He was though, happy as a clam, professing the magic of taking cough syrup in excesses amounts.  Attempting to sell me that his new gig of “robotripping” is akin to ketamine therapy.  Ya, know, because ketamine therapy isn’t a go to idea for, say drug addicts.  Who knew.

Knowing what SK is capable under the influence, I did my best, albeit, apparently very poorly to ‘keep the peace’.

Body bag or peace, I opted for peace.  I still failed.  There is no making those drug addicts happy after all.

I would surmise that to be his reason for hiring an “escort” to fuck him – because we all know that’s what good upstanding husbands do.  The Disney skank wasn’t enough, lets pay to get off.  STD’s are only a bonus after all.

Awesome.  Gross.  More gross to think I have actually slept with such a scummy person.  We’ve all had our share of mistakes.  Mine just haunt me.

Needless to say…His crazy escalated, because you can’t reason with drug induced psychosis.  Trust me, I know this to be true – all too well.

He went from professing his love, deep regret and apology for all the hell he left to walking into a court house and lying to get a PFA.

This worthless piece of abusive shit told the court he lived here, that he cared for my children…the same ‘man’ who fucked over his own kid to get high.

He tried to have me evicted from *my* house, with *my* children.  My lawyer did me a solid and listened to the lies my ‘husband’ fed the judge.

I cannot wait until my divorce is final, I feel like I am living life in a perpetual waiting game of hurry the fuck up and get it over with.  The loser I married is out on bail, he’s got *another* felony charge.  Because one isn’t enough.

His ass is in the hospital now, he got the shit kicked out of him.  Good.  How does that feel??  Was it before or after he paid for some escort?  Before or after he bought a $130k car but can’t afford a lawyer to right the wrong of not being able to see his own child?

Oh wait, my bad…it has *nothing* to do with his choices – it’s all the mothers fault!  duh.

Last week was extra special fun. This time he took his high self into court, missing the reality that I spend my days at a law firm and it’s no surprise that I was fully aware that he was making an ass of himself in the Court of Common Pleas.   They are laughing *at* you 😉

This time, I will not allow him to weasel his way into me, to create doubt, fear, insecurity… to do *exactly* what he wants me to do so he doesn’t have to go to jail.

This time.  This time is different.  There is a Detective that in on fucking point. Why now and not before?  I don’t know.  What I do know is that abusive relationships seep in and grab you so strongly that the force to extract yourself from it, is almost something that seems unattainable.

Until it doesn’t.

Until one person in power *hears* it.  Then it all changes when you finally are able to trust that someone who can, actually does.

I’ve had my disgust with the judicial system in Lancaster County, but right now, I see my local police department acting like they care and I am not just another 911 call.

SK may just end up in jail this time.  I hope if he does, it’s for a very very long time.