I Must Have Been A Real Son-of-a-Bitch

OK listen up and listen up good you vile black cloud of doom. You, that's right I'm talking to YOU, you were supposed to stay behind. Tucked in the distant memory of a year gone by not even 6 days ago. Left in the past. We were through, kaput. I was over you. But no.

You had to follow me, you had to shadow my every move into this new and sparkling year. 2010 in its infancy and you are already on the way to making your appearance very well known. How could you? After all we've been through I thought you would have at least spared me. Let me go into a new decade anew and free from your icy grasp and depths of despair.

So sure, you start mildly with your piddly annoyances here and there. Meager arguments amongst family and friends, simple really. Nothing you haven't covered before. Nothing I haven't overcome.

Then again with mild, still mild, financial annoyances. You play with my payroll, you toy with my bank account. Alas I am on to you so quick as a flash and as my fingers do the walking, I make a few calls and all is right again. Rats, foiled again!

So then you're 5th day you bring my child into the mix you dirty dog. A poor innocent 5 year old boy. An evening in the emergency room and thankfully no broken bones, but yet you try. You push and push until you just get me to the edge of what you think is my reasonable sanity. But my baby boy is ok, and you have yet again not conquered. You try as you might oh Vile one, but no, I am sworn by resolution you will not win out this time.

But this is a new low, even for you. Beginning my new year, week in and fresh with optimism and you squash it as if I were a bug under your massive shoe. Squeezing the very life out of me, oozing from all sides. A call into the office that my contract hours are almost up and Corporate America in all its glory has to fill displaced other's before they could ever put me in my job permanently, even if that's what they'd rather do.

So by Month's end, my financial stability will be gone. I am left again in jobless limbo and you in your high and mighty black cloud scoff. You've done it again. Just when I resolve to contentment, you bring me back to that place of horrid shame. Of despair and depression. Of fear and of complete defeat.

Receiving no child support for a year was one thing, because I was doing it on my own to spite you, and now you took away my independence. My legs to stand on knocked out beneath me. And now what? DCF closes the case against his father this month as well, no longer paying my child's school tuition, your "coincidental" timing I'm sure maliciously calculated. You're cunning astounds me.

My health was yet another issue, I can deal with that though, I'm used to it now. Take a pill for this, another for that. You inform me you'll take my insurance away in a year. I will use that year to get well, to prove you wrong. And then I reinjure myself. You don't quit. It's like it's all a game to you. And I your pawn, your pewter Monopoly piece, your colored Hersey Kiss shaped pawn in your twisted game of Life.

Have I not been through enough? Can I not find some Poppins like umbrella to shield me from your wrath?

I must have been a real son of a bitch in another life.