Autumn rocks!

I am happy. Really happy- the kind that comes from within, not from something external causing it. I am in love with this weather, my house, my family, my pets........even my damn issues. Okay, not my issues, but my insight, and experience.

You know, I can feel tired, and nauseous, and a little worried about money, but all in all, I finally feel somewhat content about where I am. And I still have lots of time to get to the other places I want to be. Like completely self-employed and financially self-sufficient. Cool.

I miss my youngest son. I rarely hear from him. I wonder how he is doing. even when I call, he is out doing something and forgets to call back. Poo.

On weirdness and lonliness

Loneliness is kind of strange. I mean, we all know what it is, but we never seem to recognize it in ourselves. We say things like "I'm actually happier when I live alone." Or "It's only three cats and one dog. And two gerbils." And "Okay, so that's Dean, and that's his brother Sam, and their dad died trying to hunt down the yellow-eyed demon that killed their  mother when Sam was a baby by pinning her to the ceiling of his nursery and burning her alive....." And when you sing along to all the commercials. Or you read six books in 2 weeks and tell people you are a voracious reader.

You get my drift.

So I let my daughter throw a big birthday party for my granddaughter's 7th birthday. Silence never sounded sweeter......lol.

I had four bad dreams last night. One was about me and other survivors in some kind of post-apocalyptic world, trying to find a place to live; then my granddaughters were with in the the same said dream, only this was a separate dream; then I knew of a person who was killing women; then I was the obsession of this killer and was fighting for my life.

The whole damn night was weird. -_-

Food, nightmares, and me

Hmmm...... nothing but nightmares last night. Four of them, to be exact. Not cool. All with the same theme. Nuts. -_-

Anyhoo, I am out of my seasonal rut, at least until it bombards me again. This time of year is so rough, but it's getting better, so I am hopeful.

I wish I could go to another country and work as a missionary. I feel such a desire to help people, and I am so limited here, with no car. I am going to the Salvation Army to volunteer, and possibly the library, too, since I did work there.

I have read 6 books in the last two weeks. Yeah, I read a lot, but it's an escape mechanism, too. I am taking going to be getting my degree in holistic and natural nutritional health. I know how much changing my diet has helped me, and I can use my psychology studies to help in my understanding and treatment of others' issues with food, be it poor diet, too much food, not enough, etc. But I want to offer competitive rates for people who cannot afford the higher priced nutritionists. Poor people need it, too. And if I have to offer freebies, I will. Just because a person has no money, doesn't mean he/she shouldn't be entitled to a healthy mind and food.

Ghosts of the Past

I had a severe migraine today....so bad I nearly went to the emergency room. That sometimes happens. My daughter gave me 800 mg of ibuprofen, and that took the edge off, and I slept. I think it was brought on by my near breakdown yesterday.

Yes, I had a breakdown of sorts. I even contemplated going to the hospital because I was freaking out like a junkie and scared shitless, but I knew my daughter and granddaughter needed me here, so I dealt with it. I know why I had a near breakdown. 

This is the exact time of year 12 years ago when I put into action my plan to leave my psychotic boyfriend. 

Phase One: get a job at Kohler Company so i would have money to move with. 
Phase Two: get a car, even though I didn't have my license yet. I knew how to drive, and I didn't have time to wait for protocol.
Phase Three: Get first paycheck and secure new apartment.
Phase Four: Wait until he left for work one day and quickly move out.

Everything went according to plan until phase four. Someone tipped him off. The whole thing was like a tv movie.....Me, in the driver's seat, just turning the ignition and getting ready to pull out. Then him, in the window, smile on his face, asking "Going somewhere?"

And before I can even react, he opens the passenger door and says "Why don't I help you?"

That was the beginning of 3 and a half months of terror and hell. I thought I was going to die. He would have killed me. But I am not ready yet to spill that story.

So yesterday all kinds of crap happens. My daughter is a victim and key witness in a huge, made for the movies, criminal investigation. I realize this particular incident is about her, but my psychological fears and phobias sprung into full alert. For days now, I haven't been able to leave my house without becoming physically ill. I even force myself to walk to the store, but the fear is getting worse. I rationalize, tell myself I haven't seen my ex-boyfriend in over 12 years (he got 11 years in prison, and was released in 2010), but I can't help the fear. Terror is a better word, actually. I am afraid of spiders. I am terrified to go outdoors at night. I am terrified to be alone for any length of time. I drug up on sleeping pills at night because I will have very lifelike, very terrifying nightmares if I don't. 

So yesterday all of this hits me full force, and I am practically hysterical with fear. I am a very logical, no nonsense person. I handle pressurized situations great. Except this one. I am prepared. I will not go down without a fight. And there is no indication, no inkling he would even ever show up again. But I distrust everyone. 

He was more than a jerk and abuser. He had Charles Manson eyes. He had all the traits and characteristics of a serial killer. He killed animals. He tortured me. I have met creeps. I have met all kinds. Only a few select belong to he psycho club.......Son of Sam, Charles Manson, Ted Bundy, too name a few. And my guy. The devil with the angel's face. 

I am afraid of dying by his hands. I am afraid of having no control. I am afraid of meeting another like him. 

I know I need to face this fear. I need to talk about it, in full. I think that scares me the most. 

He is not just some lowlife guy who got off and beating up women. He is capable of horrible things. And they all have a trigger....a reason they do what they do. 

I have decided to tell my therapist we need to work on this sooner rather than later. And I am going to try and stay out of the hospital. I cannot leave my daughter and granddaughter here alone, even though I know they are probably safe. But I thought I was safe once, too. And he will stop at nothing to hurt me. He even threatened to take my youngest child once. 

I don't like this. I hate drama. I want peace. I am working so hard to make a life, my life. I can't let him ruin it again. But I so have a dog now, who manages to keep people at a distance when she is barking at the door. I have learned how to prepare, and protect myself, and I know how to leave evidence should he ever show up and succeed in his former plan of kidnapping me. 

I do not follow a routine. It's too easy to predict. My house is locked up tight. Booby trapped (nothing dangerous). I just wish I had people I could trust now. I can't even trust my own family. My best friend since childhood turned out to be working with him. 

Should something happen, I could hide. But I did that before. I am not running this time, fear or no fear. I will not let him continue winning. 

On Death and Life

Grampa kitty died. In my bed, under the covers where he chose to be, nestled between my legs, my hand on his little head. I am pretty sure he purred a little. And the he finally gave up the fight. And I am not ashamed to say I cried.

I took him in several months ago, when I saw he was neglected, mistreated, and needed someone to care. He wasn't abused. But he had earned the respect that everything that old should receive, and I wanted to make his last months good ones for him. I am convinced that I fulfilled that, and I believe he knew it. He followed me around right up until the end, when I realized he was ready to lie down and sleep. But he needed me there, because every time I moved, he tried to follow. I finally set him up on my bed, then spent the rest of the night sitting as close to him as possible and letting him know he wasn't alone.

He drooled, and couldn't even get up to pee anymore, so my room literally became an infirmary. But I laid in bed with him, providing warmth, comfort. I rubbed his head, and he enjoyed that. I believe he even purred a little. He died quietly, and he was not alone. vr

I am scared to die. Not because I don't know what happens next......I do know, and I don't believe it's heaven or hell. i believe it is something beyond that; something God will reveal in his own time.

No, what scares me is the utter end of death. No feeling, no thinking, no pain, no laughter, never seeing a sunrise, or a smile, or feeling tears, or falling off a bike, or talking to a friend, or realizing misplaced dreams. Animals are blessed in that they know, at some point life ends for them. Some go quietly. Others fight, horribly. And it would be easier for me to just put them out of sight somewhere so i don't have to be tortured by it. But they crave companionship, too. No one, not even an animal, wants to die alone.

And maybe that is what scares me........dying alone.

Every year I watch the 9/11 shows on history channel, not because I like to relive what happened, but because I believe we should all remember. Over 3000 people died that day. Many more thousands affected by their helplessness to do anything. People ask me why I torture myself, because I always cry. I watch to remind me of my humanity. To remember that there are people dying, not because they want to, but because someone else has chosen for them. Plans, dreams, joys, regrets, all snuffed out and gone in no time flat, when it takes 9 months to create each and every human being.

I know it's the cycle of life, but it certainly isn't natural. We were created to live forever.

I don't believe in heaven in the sense that that is where we go when we die. Heaven is God's realm, from which he runs his government. And I do not believe in any physical hell. Hell is where we are right now. And while loss looms large in my life, just as it does in other' lives, I do believe there is something more yet to come, when God is ready to make it clear.

I don't want to go to heaven. I want to live right here, learning, reading, writing, meeting new people, watching children grow, taking care of pets, testing my limits, trying new things. There is so much to learn, and see, and I cannot imagine having that opportunity cut short.

My heart goes out to those who have a lost a loved one for whatever reason.

My heart also goes out to those who have lost all desire to live, for whatever reason. My heart especially goes out to those who have no choice in the matter.

I want to live. I have so much to learn, to explore and experience.

I am single, and I don't mind, honestly. I don't trust anyone, and so it keeps me from being hurt. But sometimes I wish I had a friend to talk with, to share with, to get feedback for ideas from. Someone who will be honest, and not just tell me whatever I want to hear to keep from upsetting me. Brutal honesty is better than well-intentioned lies.

But life is too short. We keep saying,"ah, I have time, I can do it tomorrow." What if tomorrow doesn't come? Are you happy where you are? Do you know how people feel about you? Have you righted all the wrongs, and loved those who need it? We don't have to be famous. Our legacy lies in who we are right now, in life, and how we treat others.

Don't waste your life on frivolous things. There will  be time for those later.

On death and life

I have been sitting in bed since yesterday, because my cat of 17 years is dying. But he is at peace, and comfortable, and warm, and I am not leaving his side. He crawled in next to me, under the covers, and has been there ever since. It won't be long now. 

I am glad I can provide comfort, but I have to admit, I am tired of being the one to watch things die. Including people. And if I hear one more person whine and cry "poor me" because a grandma died, or someone else, I will scream. I mean, I understand, and I sympathize, but I was the only person in the room with my dad when he died, and I was alone with him afterward for an hour, and I don't run around telling everyone and bawling about it.  

I empathize. I really, really do. But using something like that to get attention?? Get over yourselves. 

Just like I don't use my life to get attention. There are too many people who have had crappy lives...been hurt, abused, used, mistreated, lied to, betrayed......and so many in worse ways than I have. Yeah, the things that happened to me suck. But others have gone through worse. If I can't use what has happened to me to empathize and help someone, then I keep it to myself. I don't use it to get attention, or cry "poor me!"

I don't mean to sound harsh. I am just tired of certain people thinking they are the only one bad things happen to. And then using that as an excuse to do more drugs, or isolate, or attempt suicide, or whatever they do when they are feeling sorry for themselves. And I can say that because I used to be one of those people.

I am actually happy in my life right now. Of course I want to do more, and I am, and will. But I am grateful for every single day I have, no matter how good or bad it is. There is always someone who has had it worse.  

I intend to use my experiences to help others. Otherwise, what's the point to anything?

What Hemingway Knew

I am reading a book called "Coffee with Ernest Hemingway," by Kirk Curnutt, with the Forward by John Updike, and it's an interesting place to start if you want to read a good semi-biography. The premise is a kind of coffee convo between the author and Hemingway himself, in an attempt to give him a voice we all can hear.

So as i am reading this, I am taking note of the literary artists of his time what influenced his writing and development of the craft, so that I can read and learn from them, as well. No, I don't want to write like Hemingway. I don't want to write like Eudora Welty, either, though I accidentally found out that I do have her kind of voice. But all voices are not the same, no matter how similar the nuances. And all voices have an individual story to tell, and many different tools and experiences to bring the writing to life, in their own voice.

The best way to find your voice is to write. And sing. And talk, even when no one is listening. And read........everything..........or at least try to, for how will you know what you don't like if you never look at any of it?

Franz Kafka's 'Metamorphosis' made me cry and I haven't read it since, though I cherish it.

Charlotte Bronte's "Wuthering Heights" is the only love story I will ever read. Oh, and there is a ghost, too!

Tolstoy's "Anna Karenina" intimidated me but by the third chapter I couldn't put it down and I finished it within a week.

Toni Morrison writes about a life I will never know, not by any means possible.........and she tells it with screams and curses and sex and secrets and poor black slaves, and the magic of just moving forward.

Maya Angelou knows why the caged bird sings, even though it longs to be free........it sings because it has a song. A voice.

And so have I.

Beginning

I have been thinking a lot lately about the twists and turns my life has taken thus far. It's interesting to look back and know that if I had made one different choice, in anything, my whole life would be different now. But who's to say that would be a good thing? What if this life is not the worst life I could have had?  


Think about it.....every choice, every decision.......that's the main point, really. Choices. No guns to our heads, no one coercing us (usually). We make a choice to use drugs or not use drugs. Each choice leads down a different path. We choose (usually) if we want kids or not....each also a different path. How many kids? Pets? Vegan, not vegan? Every one of those choices could have changed every aspect of the life I have now, but nothing guarantees that this is the worst I could do. One different decision, and I could be a victim of child abuse. Or I could be a Professor in a private College. 


It amazes me the incredible amount of control we have over our lives, for the most part. Yes, things happen. And it stinks. But we choose how to deal with and react to it, don't we? We can feel sorry for ourselves, or help others. We can become criminals, or advocates. We can commit suicide, or refuse to give up. But under normal circumstances, it is always our choice.


I choose to be a writer. I choose to do whatever it takes to become that writer. I choose to learn from my past, not dwell on it anymore. I choose to go outside at night, instead of hiding in my house. I choose to be happy, and do whatever it takes to make that happen (meds, hobbies, relationships, etc). I choose to be kind and generous, but I also choose not to let people use me anymore. I choose to stop trying to impress guys to get them to like me. I choose to be me from now on. I choose to have fun, and laugh, and enjoy the little things, even if others look at me funny. I wonder where this path will take me??  I am excited to find out!!!!!!!


What do you choose??

Need ReSPONSES

I knew it. I knew it knew it knew it.   All my life I have known nothing but shitty guys who played games, used me, abused, me....you name it- they did it. So i meet this 'nerd' when I buy my new laptop...and he's kinda cute, and we flirt a little, and next thing you know I have been seeing him for a month!!! Like, almost every night. And he's awesome, and wonderful, and almost too good to be true, and I am afraid to trust again as I have been 'here' before....and finally I begin to crumble...............................................and THEN I find out he's a pervert. A real 'seen every porno ever made everywhere from gay porn to transsexual porn to...well........yeah.' So WTF do I do???? He doesn't Do this stuff. I don't think. He doesn't watch teen porn or snuff films. i think.  He doesn't do anything freaky in bed. At least, not yet. And I don't know if it all turns him on, or if he just watches to watch.

Is this a red flag? Or is this normal?

Go ask Alice....

She told herself it was only temporary. This sadness would go away. She was smarter now, and more educated about mental illness and medications and home remedies. She actually made good decisions, sometimes, which helped increase her confidence. And yet, it seemed so unreal to be feeling this way...this sure, and comforted, and hopeful. It was like dreaming, though of course no dream she had ever had- hers left her feeling scared and disoriented when she woke up. They haunted her throughout the day and made her feel the need to shower and try to erase it.

She had to wonder if this was actually really happening, or if she were stuck again in some otherworld that this time decided to torture her in a whole new way.