My New Sleeping Habit, The Power Nap

Tonight as usual, we went to bed after midnight.  My poor husband, he doesn't sleep well and works so hard so it worries me when we stay up so late.  Tonight he didn't seem to have the usual up and down problems.  After he takes his Ambien and if his Restless Leg Syndrome kicks in, he tends to wander through the house doing weird things.  This keeps me up most nights.  He either moves the bed so much I get sea sick or he's stumbling into things and waking me.  Most nights are a good combination of both.  Last night he tripped over the dog.  Tonight we didn't have any of that nonsense. 

Tonight, I took medicine, Melatonin.  I made myself comfortable, took a pain pill and got in a power nap.  It's the middle of the night and I took a nap instead of sleeping through the night which was my goal.  Oh fun.


Instead, I'm listening to the running water of the fish tank filter.  I do not find running water soothing.  It makes me want to pee, all, the, time.  I have enough distractions I do not need this one too.   So I put in my earbuds and crank up the music.  So my soundtrack at the moment is Hillbilly Bone by Blake Shelton and Trace Atkins.  My connection got the hiccups though so I was hearing every other word.  It's interesting to listen to music like this. 

Oh, there has been a wandering husband sighting.  He's grabbing a snack.  The other night he made the rounds of the house under the influence, I had the hardest time being quiet when I started laughing.    The normal routine is getting a snack.  Going to take a shower.  Using the bathroom.  There could be a combination of all of them.   

The other night, was a good combination.  He got up to get a snack but in his head, his snack was gone from the fridge.  He was imagining that because he did not open the refrigerator to even know.  From standing in front of the refrigerator, remember he has not opened the appliance, he went to our youngest son's bedroom door.  He stood there.  To me it looked like he was waiting for him to unlock the door.  In his head he's chewing the teen out for eating the missing snack.  I figured he needed to take a shower.  The only shower we have is in the Jack and Jill bathroom between the boys' bathrooms.  If the youngest locks his door, no access is available.  We do not dare use the other entrance.  That room has a dangerous floor.  It's a teenager's bedroom, we might step on a rogue piece of vital computer equipment. 

Back to the hubster.  His imaginary conversation with the youngest is over, he returns to the fridge.  He opens the top and bottom then reaches into his underwear.  At this point, I'm nervous.  Will he confuse the crisper with the potty?  Did he need an ice cube for a bug bite and is using the light from the lower part?  Will he just drop trou right there and go about his Ambien induced wandering?  He closes the doors and goes off to bed.  In his head he is still looking for his snack.  The teen had denied eating the ice cream.  I ate it, two days before, right in front of my husband.   Finally in his mind he had slammed the doors and stomped off complaining loudly.  In reality he just went back to bed. 

I love asking him about his midnight wanderings.  He doesn't remember most of them.  My favorite is the fear of his bathrobe induced by the medication.  He would have to sleep with the covers over his head because of that monster near the bedroom door.  He would mumble at it, then mumble at the covers.  He would cover his head and mumble about being safe.  He did this for weeks before he finally spoke up enough for me to understand. 

The newest on was the blue light on the cable boxes.  He noticed it in our older boy's room.  Eddie was convinced that the light was an alien.  The alien would talk to him too.  Gerald, came to get me.  "I need help with Daddy.  He's talking to an alien in my room and I can't get him to leave."  I brought the doped up father back to his bed.  I also pointed out the blue light in our room.  Confident that his blankets will protect him, he pulls the covers over his head and goes to sleep.  We teased him for weeks.

Just now, he's buckling himself into his recliner because it's going to blast off to outer space.  It's the show stopping cake shaped like a rocket from the latest season of Great British Baking Show.   It's a lift chair so I think the up button will be pushed any second now.  I guess not.  Wait, his undies are missing.    Sleeping doesn't compare to this.

The care and feeding of a Bipolar mother

My mother was not equipped to have a child.  She and my dad got married because of a pregnancy scare.   I came along over a year later so I was not that scare.  I was a surprise for my dad though.  One fast weekend while he was at AIT and along came Debby.  She confessed once when I was in my 30's that in my infancy she hit me in the head with a hammer.  I was just big enough to turn my head on my own so it was just a glancing blow.  I suppose she took me to my grandparents for a few days after that.  She was hard on me.

Fast forward a few years.  My sister was born and we shared a bedroom.  She was big enough to be able to stand in her crib and throw toys out.  It was her favorite game.  I was responsible for picking them up and putting them back.  So my mother says something like, "Have these toys picked up before I finish with my bath or you're going to get a spanking." I tried but my sister was up for a game of 40 toy pick up and I just knew I was going to get that spanking.  I did get that spanking and more for crying because I was already crying before she laid a hand on me.  She wouldn't accept my explanation that my sister contributed to the mess.  It was not fair to me.  "Life is not fair."

So a little further down the road of my life and she's divorced and lonely.  Horny is really what she was.  She would cry for someone to love her and being the pleasers we tried to be we would respond.  "We love you mommy" but she always said "That's not good enough."  She meant that's not the same as what she wanted but she just couldn't put that in words.  I turned myself inside out to make that woman happy.  I worried about it so much I had ulcers at 10 years old.

My mother refused to let me have my medication after a month or so.  She didn't want me to get addicted to it.  Turns out Ulcers run in the family.  My grandfather coped with his by eating cereal with Milnot, an evaporated milk product.  I drank milk to help with mine.  I got a lot of flack about drinking milk.  I turned to other foods to help, toast, crackers, or oatmeal but milk was faster.    My own boys do the same although one also takes Famotadine every morning.

One time when I was 13, she and I were fighting about chores and she hit me and I fell down a flight of stairs.  I managed to smack her back on my way down.  I broke out one of her false teeth from her upper plate.  I broke my glasses, twisted my trick knee, and hurt one wrist.  I was lucky.  That knee, I had it replaced in August 2018.  My mom had me in her hands at the age of 1 or 2, and dropped me by accident onto the edge of a coffee table that I never knew was in the living room at my grandparent's house.  Explains why we didn't have one.  It was dismantled and kept behind the couch.  I think my little knee swelled up.  For nearly 5 decades that knee gave me so much trouble.

My mom, she was either so depressed she could barely function or so hyped on life that she would clean house in the middle of the night.  Now we lived in a Tulsa Housing Authority low income neighborhood/apartment complex.  They have monthly inspections and exterminator visits.  So my mom would stress out about these visits and push herself into a Manic (cleaning in the middle of the night) phase.  Another manic phase was when we would buy our months allotment of groceries on the day we got our food stamps.  Sugar highs would come that day.  We bought cake.

I weigh 335 lbs right now.  I was a heavy kid.  Tall and a little too much weight but not that bad as I look at girls and women in "healthy bodies" now.  My convex belly was just right for my frame although, it was supposed to be concave and my hip bones were supposed to show to fit the illusion of beauty for a couple of boyfriends.  So I ate my feelings.  Then one year I ate 10K calories per meal MREs. I packed on pounds then.  Everyone thought I was pregnant.    I haven't dropped that weight.  I went from 220 to nearly 300.  Earlier this year, I was 378.    I've been too stressed to eat a lot this year.  Too stressed to feel hungry.

Not eating has been a big change for me.  It's helped my tummy trouble though.    My Citalopram helps too.   At least I understand that I need to take it everyday.  My mother didn't.  She would take it until she started feeling better then think she was doing to well to need it and start spiraling down to a suicide attempt.  Every 18 months for most of my life we would deal with this.  Her early death was due to all the damage she did with all the drugs she used to try to overdose in the past.  I know one attempt with Glucophage, damaged her heart.   When I realized she would rather create havoc in our lives than to live and give us a stable home, I started hating my mother.

I stayed though.  I was still busting my hump to make her happy.  She needed me if only to cook, clean and do laundry.  Then I learned about having my own life.  I worked, had a boyfriend, and was making plans for the future.  Then Jeffy came along.  He altered my plans for the future.  If I had been about to get mental healthcare back then I think would have been so different for him, and my marriage to his dad.  I thank God often that mental health is covered now.   We're having trouble with getting Gerald's medication but we have other options for him when there's a gap.

So every time my mother had a suicide attempt she would go back through her history.  She had to talk about her history some of it wasn't correct history but made her more sympathetic.  I bought into the lies a lot of my life.  There were times when she would have to change therapists too and the stories would come back out.  She would accuse this man of child rape or inappropriate advances when she was older.  One husband or boyfriend was abusive or forced her to swing.  It's all very sordid.  Eventually I was tired of the history and it's changing accounts.  Eddie kept her from abusing me with her lies.  It was rough.  By that time, I had 2 more kids and was in need of all the mental health support I could get.  I couldn't be that support for my mother.

I understand my mother and some of her motives now that I'm older.  I've experienced some things that would lead me to make the same choices she made but my medication always brings me back to center. I just hope my boys learn that same lesson.  Take your medicine.

this will be an on going series... more some other day.

A new discovery.

I just discovered what has been waking me up at 2-3 a.m.  It's my husband.  This is the time he ventures out of bed to eat and go pee under the influence of Ambien.  When his Ambien is working, he stumbles around like a drunk because, well, he is.  Tonight he flopped into the bed after tripping over something on his side of the bed.  UGH.  It's all his fault. 

Okay, that's not the only reason.  It could be one of the kids getting medicine, or a pet but the biggest culprit is HIM. 

Top that off with my internal squeak in my eardrum  and well no wonder I am awake until dawn.   I have an ear ache and that ear drum can hear my blood pulsing to my brain on that side.  It's driving me nuts.  The pitch changes from the sound of blood rushing to squeaks and whines to the sound of a European siren.  It's making me crazy.   I need to see the doctor about it but I just can't make myself go to urgent care.   I think I will go tomorrow.  I need to get out of the house anyway. 

Okay, so I got up and posted my complaint.  I think I will do some laundry and knit until I get sleepy again. <eye roll>

Surviving the Twenty Year "Is this how it's going to be?"

I can see why people that have been married about 20 years break up.  They stop trying to do something in the marriage.  In my case it's intimacy.  I'm not talking sex, although that's missing too.  But the true intimate things a couple does for each other. 

The hubster has psoriasis. I knew what it was before he got the diagnosis. This makes the poor man itch like crazy.  It was the worst on his legs for a long time then he had some long rounds of antibiotics for his teeth and it started clearing up.  Well he liked me to scratch his back then the spots appeared on his back and I was afraid that my scratching his back would make those spots worse.  Or he would only want me to touch him to apply medication or scratch places that were getting worse.  I grew tired of it and started complaining.  Tonight I realized that if I didn't medicate those places he couldn't see, they weren't going to get any better.  And I have to remember to do it every night because he's my hubster and I want him to be okay. 

The other side to this story is he's stopped touching me.  He pets the dogs more than he touches me.  Heck he doesn't like the cat and he pets her more than he touches me.  I set myself up for this in two ways.  First there are times when I'm in too much pain to want to be touched.  The second was a stupid comment I made about 10 years ago. 

Inflammation is my enemy.  If something on me isn't hurting I'm usually heavily medicated.  Most of the inflammation is in my digestive tract but occasionally  it will be an over worked area on my body.  So he never knows when I'm going to shrink away from him because I'm in pain.  Therefore he doesn't think to reach out for me anymore.  I think I can get him to rub my back every other night the stars align right. 

Then there's the comment.   Back when I was trying to get him to save his teeth I told him if he had dentures, our sex life was over.  And well I still mean it.  BUT, you know there had to be a but right?  I had to get him dentures.  He was going to die if I didn't.  He couldn't eat, his tummy was messed up from the bacteria his jaws were getting infected all the time.  It had to be done.  The initial plan was he was going to have to get implants right away but he couldn't because of the infection in his bones.   
Here we are, he's had dentures about a year and when he gums food I just want to vomit.   Tonight, I wanted him to touch me but he's dipping toast in milk and eating it without his teeth.  I sat in the shower and cried.   

I'm going back to work so we can afford his implants.  I can't take this for another 55 years.

Weight is weighing me

Midnight musings

Popsugar says the biggest thing they want to become a writer for them is to pick a topic and stay on it.  It suggests health, wealth or something else.  I want to talk about health specifically mental health and how it has affected all of my other health problems. 

A Fat Girls Take on Weight Loss

I’m a very large woman.  I don’t qualify for shows like My 600 Pound life but in my mirror, I look like those people.  I have three defining moments in my life that contribute to my weight.  There are genetic components and mental health issues too but mostly it’s those three moments.  I am tall for a woman in my immediate family.  So naturally with my height is a heavier weight. 

Yearly weigh ins at my elementary school killed me.  I was over 100 pounds in 4^th grade.  My other taller female friend was skinny but weighed more than our classmates too. I had a belly back then, she didn’t.  Neither of us had breasts but I also had a big butt where she was rail thin.  Her extra height meant she and I really weighed about the same.  That year I was really sweating the weigh in.  We had a great class.  The boys didn’t tease us about being different much and the other girls weren’t catty.  The most unsupportive conversations were with the students struggling with grades while we didn’t.  I had been friends and classmates for most of them for 6 years so far.   I just knew I was more different because of my home life than my weight.   My mom had mental health issues and poor eating habits.  So I ate like her.  I knew there were things I could do to keep my weight down.  I just didn’t do them often.

In 1984 my mother married and we moved to a place where I lived too close to the school to ride the bus.  I walked to school and back again every day.  It was about 6 blocks one way.  From the beginning of the school year to late October, I lost a lot of weight.  It was enough that I needed to take in my jeans and skirts.  My step dad had us eating much better and the walking made a difference.  When they split up and we ended up with my mom planning meals my weigh went back up and my weight went back up with them but not by much.  So through high school I was still a heavier girl than most but my body proportions had changed. My lower abdomen was still a round shape instead of flat or concave and I hated it.  When I got pregnant and had severe morning sickness the summer between my jr and sr. year well most of my real fat melted away as I supported new life.  Christmas 1987 I got a great pair of jeans but by May I couldn’t wear them anymore.  After I delivered my son, they were loose on me.  They didn’t fit like they used to anywhere, so I took them in.    

In 1997 I was living with my now husband.  We both worked jobs but we had too many expenses to eat well.  Our saving grace was a friend from the days my boyfriend was in the Army National Guard.  He brought us most of the expired MRE’s and canned food the “kitchen” he worked in.  I ate those for lunch almost every day and sometimes for dinner and a midnight snack.  Each package was about 1500 calories.  I packed on so much weight that my mother thought I was pregnant when I announced we were engaged and getting married in 3 months.  I just couldn’t understand why I needed to buy or make all new clothes.  I gained about 75 pounds in a 6 to 8 month span.  My husband didn’t mind but my doctor was like you need to drop these pounds if you hope to have a baby.  The weight kept me from conceiving for 3 years.

So, there are my defining moments.  I have steadily gained weight since then.  I’m 375 now.  I know I need to lose the weight.  A childhood trauma and the weight made me need a knee replacement.  In the 9 months since the surgery, I have lost a little weight but not because of exercise.  I had a round of IBS-D with vomiting a few weeks back that caused me to drop a few pounds and took away some bloat.  I knew I had lost a few inches when I put on a pair of pants I had been saving for my son’s high school graduation.  The pants were loose enough to sag when I walked.  Eventually, I’ll need to alter them for now, I’m going to enjoy the extra room while I interview for a new job or two.

The Changes of A Woman Throughout a Marriage.

I read a Facebook post about how people change through a marriage.

  https://www.facebook.com/monarchhealing/photos/a.801796213332036/1231171727061147/?type=3&theater

I really started to think about the woman I have been in the last 22 years. 

At first, I had been screwed over by a husband, my family and a boyfriend.  I was essentially running from my past and some bad checks.  My land lord had told me that in her culture women are “judged by how they keep their trash hole.” So, I vowed to keep my trash can and those areas clean while living in that house.  I didn’t really appreciate her advice.  This is when my IBS-D was first becoming out of control.  I didn’t have the energy to deal with more than working and sleeping.  Honestly I thought it had something to do with my pregnancy.    So when I met Eddie, I was a wreck.  My manic moments were a mix of riding high and drinking or being a super grouch.  I complained about everything.   I couldn’t say one nice thing without including 5 negative things too.   Eddie was used to it.  His father had become a super grouch after a heart attack and stroke.  His ex-wife was a raging bitch.  So he dealt with me by letting things roll off him.   He was the balm I needed.  Then he saw the scared little girl I was when my mother was having problems.  He stood up and handled as much of her crap as he could to take the pressure off of me.  For the first five years we operated in damage control mode.

Then I got pregnant with Gerald.   I was a basket case on a whole other level.  I was so focused on the IBS-D mixed with 24 hour “morning sickness” and the fear that he wouldn’t make it to term.  Eddie was in coddle me mode.  By the time we had Shane we thought we had the IBS-D thing figured out.   I had my gallbladder removed and that made everything worse.  I was living in a I don’t dare eat anything until I just can’t stand not to eat everything mode.  I had 2 kids and I was exhausted all the time.    I was the crazy mom with mood swings that encompassed the universe.   Eddie was in protect the kids mode. 

Then things got really bad with my family.  Everybody was using the word truth to spew vile on everyone else.  I hit rock bottom.  I had to find a new way.  I started using the 4 Truths and I settled down.  Eddie still protected me from my family and stood between my mood swings and the kids but well things were getting better for us. 

Then we took in a nephew.  I became the raging bitch then.  I tried to yank my brother-in-law back into line until the exhaustion made me not care and I got so sick I had to insist my brother-in-law take his son back.  Eddie was in keep his head down mode. 

We lost our house in 2012.   We moved and gained another foster kid.  He threatened to kill Gerald.  He went away and I started working.  Things changed a lot during that time and I hit an extended manic period that almost ruined my marriage.  Eddie was in I work too much to know what is going on mode.  When I lied to him about almost everything, he pulled away from me.  At that point I retreated to our room and hid there.  I still spend most of my time in our room.  I couldn’t stand the mess in the living room at first then it morphed into I cannot stand seeing the mess in Shane’s room so I just avoided both.

We worked through it but things weren’t completely the same then he got sick.  Holding in all the stress laid him up with an ulcer.  His teeth were bad so eating was too painful.  He lost 20 pounds in a few weeks.  I made him get dentures, knowing that I had told him our sex life might suffer from the ick factor of kissing him without his teeth.  I’m totally grossed out by all the things associated with his dentures but implants weren’t possible right away.  So he was in, I can’t wait until I can truly eat again mode and I was in a panic that I might lose him to illness.

My boys started having mental illness issues.  One was in a hospital for over 30 days.  I was a broken hearted mom.  I regretted every decision and bad thing for so long.  Eddie was still so sick and the boys pulled away from him due to his mouth.  I was watching my family fall apart. 

Finally, I had my knee replacement.  Pain meds make my mouth so much worse.  I hurt Eddie’s feelings. I hurt my kids’ feelings.   They have all pulled away from me even more.  Now I’m in a panic that I might upset any of them with my health or mental problems.  I feel like a stranger in my own body. 

Through the years my personality and focus has changed about 8 times.  Okay, my personality hasn’t really changed I just let certain parts be more dominant.  I really don’t like the person I am right now.  I don’t really think Eddie likes me either.  We still support each other in certain areas but in others we don’t.  Sometimes I wonder if we’re going to make it.

Trying to make bad habits pay off.

My insomnia is back.  It was bad before our vacation.  Sharing a smaller bed for 3 nights going out there and back was hard on my sleep schedule. I did better at the rent house.  Then post vacation let down started triggering other parts of my depression.  To be honest my vacation calmed my IBS-D.  I could eat salad and spicy foods and didn’t pay for it within an hour of eating.  It was great.  Then one day my youngest son got bored and set a few fires.  The anxiety of the afternoon triggered tummy trouble, big time.  my acidic stomach has been working overtime.  This is the main cause of my IBS-D.  Constant diarrhea after eating.  They tested me for another problem once.  It’s something about stomach dumping, where the stomach doesn’t slowly digest food, it fills up then dumps the contents into the intestines all at once.  Honestly, I think something like that happens with an acid overload.  So I invested in 3 rounds of Nexium.  The first day it worked wonders.  I didn’t poop for like 24 hours.   Then I didn’t take it the next day because my schedule was messed up.  I was back in the bathroom again.   

Bed time snacks are the worst.  Eddie has to have a bedtime snack and I had been using them to absorb the acid churning all evening.  Well, after I eat my body won’t sleep until it knows the diarrhea is over for the night.  Some nights I’m up all night which has triggered my insomnia.  Now, I’m in full fledged night person mode.  Last night I stayed up writing fan fiction.  Tonight, I found a night job on Indeed.  I’m thinking I could pull that off for the next 10 years or more.     

I got a small reprieve tonight.  We went to bed at about midnight.  I stayed asleep until 1:30 a.m.  I had not had a bed time snack so my tummy was a little upset.  I got up to eat crackers and milk and well I’m waiting for the shit storm. 

As I said I’m working on making some changes.  I monetized this because I plan on using it more often.  I’m writing freelance for Google and a few other places.  Anything to get me out of my own head.  Some posts will be essays about things in my daily life.  Other’s will be something I’m investigating.  Tonight I wanted to outline where I am in my mental and physical health. 

My flashbacks are back after about a month break.  A commercial triggered them.  It sucks.  

So mentally, depression, flashbacks and insomnia. 

Physically, my weight is up.  The IBS-D is back with a vengeance.  I need to do more stretches because my left heal hates me when I stand up.  My new insoles help with that but after a long drive the balls of my feet hurt more.  I think the salesman at New Balance said it was foot fatigue.  I think I’ll let Advanced Orthopedics of OK look at my feet to see. Some of this is probably because of my new knee.   If I could get way from the house to walk without fear I would soil my pants is would be better.  I have to eat to keep my blood sugar in check.  I have been having some pretty sever headaches too.  Some of it has to do with where my head is when I sleep.  I have a new pair of glasses.  I have been playing small screen games too much.  I haven’t been controlling my blood sugar. 

So that’s the wrap up on me.  I think I will go play in a make-believe world for a while.   The story I wrote last night got 72 hits in less than 24 hours.

Sooo frustrated

I'm so keyed up.  I can't write.  I can't create.  I'm so.... I can't put it into words.  I've been blocked for a while and I'm trapped.   There are so many things I need to do but I can't. 

I either sleep or I'm in the bathroom.  I hate it. 

See, Eddie wanted to go fishing and I wanted him to take Shane because I needed the break but neither left.  Eddie couldn't wake Shane. He didn't want to fight with him. Eddie is upset and I feel guilty because I insisted Shane go with him. 

Now, I'm trapped in the bedroom just like always. I have no where I can go unless, it's the bathroom.  I can't venture out because I'm so upset I don't dare leave the house. 

So I sit on Eddie's computer.  I hocked my own to get groceries.  I should get it back Thursday, maybe.  If not, I may have to wait another 2 weeks or so. 

So depressed and frustrated

I made a huge mistake recently.  I started using Instagram.  Initially I did it for the gallery.  However, I'm addicted to the feeds but dissatisfied with them at the same time. 

Personally, I don't like Instagram for one big reason.  Followers.  At this time I have 9 followers claiming to be Trace Adkins.  One ruined it for me.  It's affected my feelings about Trace and his music.  I've had to block my feed about Trace, cancel my plans for Valentine's Day, and change my playlists.  Just talking about it or seeing his face starts a huge thing of anxiety for me. 


So, here's how it went.  An impostor says, let's chat.  So I think why not.  I'm bored and you could be an intern or publicist.  Then he wants to go to hangouts, because he's not on Instagram that much.  Like a fool I say sure and give him my gmail email address.  Then he asks about my home life.  I like bragging about my boys and my husband so no problem.  yadda yadda, I like to sew, quilt, knit and crochet.  This is where it breaks down.  The language of the posts changes just enough to make me think the imposter doesn't speak English very well.  He asks how I cover my bills?  If I have savings so I have access to money.   Um, I have a husband, normally, it is implied that if I stay home with the kids, he works, right? 

This is a big red flag for me.  Anyone associated with Trace should not be making sure I cover my bills and have savings.  So I tell the impostor that my money is none of his business.  I knew he wasn't a well brought up Southern gentleman that I equate with Trace and told him so because manners means no one should ask a stranger "so how do you pay your bills?"  That's right, everyone, walk up to the next celebrity you meet and ask them that question.  I can hear Bill Engvall in my head, "I don't because I'm a celebrity on the road 40 weeks of the year.  I have someone that does that for me.  Here's your sign!  you big dumb fat ass white trash skank that should be called Tulsa backwards but would insult Tulsa."  Okay, he wouldn't really say that but Ron White might.

So I call the impostor on his bad manners and it escalates.  He says, I need to watch how I talk to him because he "stood low" to talk to me.  So there it is, I am the big dumb fat ass white trash skank that should be called Tulsa backwards.  See now this triggers something in me.  I grew up welfare poor because my dad didn't stick around and my mom was too mentally ill to hold down a job for long.  My dad didn't pay his child support either.  We made it through with the help of my mom's family and maybe my dad's family.  I grew up in low income sometimes free housing or stuffed in one room with my mother and sister at my grandparent's house if  my mom didn't marry some loser that didn't want to support us either.  So most of my life I've been considered white trash. 

My first husband certainly treated me as such.   My second husband wouldn't let me forget it.  A couple of boyfriends lorded it over me.  Eddie, he doesn't care but sees it when it comes to getting things for the boys.  So.  I've given my email address, the one I use for my accounts to this impostor already.  The impostor continues to harass me.  Finally, I tell him off and block him.  But soon I'm being direct messaged by another Trace Adkins account and another and another.  There are like 14 of them following me, sending me the same introduction dm. 

This triggers a bunch of other stuff for me.  I'm puking up blood after having to get drunk to sleep.  Trace impersonators are haunting my dreams.  I've set up a nightmare carnival in my head and let the liars move in rent free.   Now I feel lower than the core of the earth.  I'm ready to give up my social media altogether.  But. I'm addicted.  I keep repeating the cycle. 

Trace isn't the only one though.  Toby Keith's impostor wanted all my personal identification including names listed in a lot of security questions so that he could send me the information needed to win.  1.6 million dollars, a trip to Central America to party with him and 3 guest, trip to see him anywhere in on his concert tour with meet and greet, meal and back stage passes.   Now see I didn't fall for that one other than giving him my actual address and saying send me a cashiers check for 45k over night.

And my beloved Jensen Ackles had an impostor too. This impostor wanted me to send money to cure "the MS" (red flag number one) I say no problem send me a link to the fund rasier web site.  Instead I should send the money to the imposter directly but the $50 I pledged isn't enough I should send $150 to make him look better "to cure the MS"  (second and third red flags)  Finally, I would be allowed to send only $50 but I should send it as an iTunes gift certificate.    (Final flag) I'm done.  He's blocked and I reject messages from anyone saying they are a celebrity unless it comes from their verified handle. 

Can I listen to Trace? not yet.  Toby? only my favorites,  Jensen, ALWAYS.