TMI: Venting

Ever just feel alone in the world?  I don't mean a life without people who care or love you.  I have that, or at least I believe I do.  I mean feeling like those around you just don't understand you.  You have those that put you in box.  And if you act outside that box they put you in, it throws them. 

Over the past few months I have noticed a trend in my life.  That I am put in a box.  I am expected to act a certain way, and if I don't, it throws people.  Even if other people we know act the same (or even worse).  Why is it okay for some and not for others? 

Sometimes I feel older than those my own age.  Other times I feel way less mature.  I never claimed to have it all figured out.  And sometimes I don't understand why others act like they do.  But I try not to judge.  I don't walk in their shoes.  Other times I just need to be a little less mature and more crazy and just let go some.  Sometimes I feel trapped by life.  Not that I don't love my life, I do.  But I think we all feel trapped every now and again.  And sometimes being a little less reserved helps to let off steam.

Things in my life are changing.  My relationships are changing.  Even those that I never thought would.  I was looking at a home for sale tonight that showed up in one of my feeds.  My daughter questioned me and asked if I would actually ever really leave our area and those we love.  There was a time in my life when there was no way I would ever consider such a thing.  Now, well.... My answer to her question was a resounding yes.  I'd leave in heartbeat if the opportunity presented itself.  I'd have no problem leaving.  And honestly, I don't think those who "closest" to me would have much of an issue either.  I can count on one hand those that would be hard to leave.  And doesn't cover the whole hand. 

Maybe I am just in a funk.  But lately, I feel like a change is needed in my life.  In ALL AREAS. 

I am ready to move to another city, state, country.  Whatever.  I don't think my absence here would make much difference to others.  But I think a new adventure might be good for me.  I don't know.  Sometimes I just need to talk it out and vent.  And I have no one in my life I can really do that with.  Not any more.  There is one amazing lady whom I just love.  But I find myself still somewhat guarded because of past experiences.

 I don't know.  Maybe it's just life again.  Changing.  I am no longer close to those I once was or understood by them.  My kids lives are jumping into major mile stones.  Maybe it's a midlife crises.  OH GOD!  LMAO

Truth is, times are changing.  Relationships are changing.  Everything is changing.  I am up to where ever the winds blows us as long as my husband and kids are by side.

True Randomness

I have so much going through me right now.  So much I can't give actual details too, and yet.... I have to get it out.

My family is going through so much right now.  We are in a time of turmoil, healing and growing.  And it sucks and yet, I have the highest hopes.

We are expecting visitors in a month's time.  And I am so excited to see them again.  Truly.  But They also have ties to someone who abandoned us and hurt us, with no just cause.  And as excited as I am to reconnect, I am also very weary.  It sucks to feel like this.

Then there is this amazing young women.. the daughter of an old childhood friend who lost touch with in the past 10 years or so.  This girl seems so amazing.  She reminds me so much of one of my own daughters in so many ways.  And love I have always had for her is still there and just as it has always been.  Thank God for the internet.  For I am finally able to see what a wonderful person she is.  I miss her mom terribly.  And yet I am so happy at the woman I see her daughter becoming.

Like I said, my family has our own issues.  And I feel torn between loved ones.  I pray I make the right choices.  I pray for healing in our home and family.

Life is crazy.  That's for sure.  It's a very bumpy, curvy ride.  But I am in it for long haul.  And I am all too thankful for those who are in it with me.

PULSE

I am so ... ugh! I don't think there are words accurate enough to describe how I am feeling. Sad? Outraged? Angry? I just can't pick one. 

 

By now everyone has heard about the shooting at the night club called Pulse in Orlando, FL.  The last time I checked the press reported 50 people dead, and 53 wounded.  When I found out about the shooting, my heart sank.  Then I found out why the shooting took place, and my heart broke (terrorist hit targeting gays).

And as if this tragedy wasn't horrific enough, people decided to go online and start tweeting about it.  And it was ugly.  Click Here to see what I mean  I am sitting here blogging this because I have so many thoughts and emotions on this, and I need a way to unjumble the mess of thoughts and emotions going through me.

One of the thoughts flying around my mediocre brain is this:  Doesn't everyone know that it isn't just the gay community at the gay clubs?  Back in my clubbing days, straight people went to the gay club all the time.  It was a place to dance and not get hit on.  It was a place to enjoy your gay friends.  Just like how any club not deemed a "gay" club has gay people in it on any given night, the gay clubs also have a straight people in it.  Because so many people don't care about labels.  We judge people on their personalities and whether or not they are good people, instead of lifestyles, religion, or anything else you can discriminate against.  

But it goes deeper this.  The hate, the absolute abhorrent hate and lack of compassion make my blood boil, as if it is okay it kill people because they are gay.  What if someone who's religion decided that all blonds had to die, that they were instruments of the devil to seduce people?  Would that be okay?  Or what if someone decided Jewish people were a stain on the betterment of mankind and had to be killed?  Oh wait, that happened.  Or what if people decided that the color of your skin decided your place in society, and if you were not white, you were a lower class and had no rights, and could be killed just because you weren't white?  Oh, wait.  That happened in our history too. 

 

You see, there is no difference between the scenarios I listed and what happened at Pulse.  It's plain hate.  And what really gets in my crawl, is that some people don't even realize that.  They feel justified and hide behind religion.  You know, kinda the same way the shooter did.  In fact, this kind of religious "justification" makes those people no different than shooter.  

You don't have to agree with others to show kindness and compassion.

Since we are on to religion, I will say this:  The God that I worship did not rejoice in these killings.  He wept.  And he continues to weep at the lack of love and compassion humanity has.  

 

The shooting at Pulse gives us a very sad look into the pulse of humanity.   And I am troubled.  I am saddened.  I am enraged.  I am so many things.  

My heart goes out to all the victims of Pulse shooting and their families.  I pray they find some comfort in the days ahead.

RAPE CULTURE

In the headlines again is another sexual assault case.  The Brock Turner case.  In case you aren't aware of it yet, here is the summary:

Stanford Party.  Girl gets way too drunk and passes out behind a dumpster, where Brock Turner finds here.  He takes off her cardigan, pulls up her bra, and throws her panties to the side.  Two men on bikes pedal by and and see him on top of her thrusting away.  She has no memory of it.  She awakes in the ER to be told what has happened to her.  She has injuries.  Brock Turner only got 6 months in jail and probation for his crime.  The country is horrified.  His father said it was a tough sentence for twenty minutes of action.  Seriously.  He said that.  Brock was athlete, a swimmer.  He lost his scholarship too.  The whole thing has everyone talking.  To read all the articles online, you see how the woman was victimize and yet the court was more worried about this young man's future than what had happened to her.  It's terrible.  And you know what?

I feel for her.

I was her.  Only I didn't press charges.

I was at a party a while back.  I was a teenager.  I was at a close friends apartment and knew just about everyone there.  I even brought a friend with me.  He was more like family, than a friend.   I drank underage and drank way too much.  I went to my friend's bedroom to lay down.  I remember the guy I brought with me asking if he could lay with me.  I felt safe.  I passed out.

I woke up some time later with NO clothes on the bottom half of my body.  I was sore.  I started screaming for help and crying.  My friends helped me find my clothes.  We called the hospital to ask about rape kit.  I couldn't have one without filing a police report.  I was scared.  That was the last thing I wanted.  Police.  Court.  No.  I just wanted to shower.  It took some convincing, but my friends finally let me shower.

I don't think I ever scrubbed myself so hard in all my life.  I cried the entire time.

Afterwards I retired to another bedroom where my friend stood watch over me all night.  He gave me some medicine for pain, and I cried myself to sleep.  I left the next morning, and left the guy I thought was family there to find his own ride home.  Oh yeah... no one kicked him out.

I was a wreck.  I didn't know what to do. I told my mom,who was best friends with his mom, and she was there too.  I just kept crying and said he hurt me.  I was asked if I was sure.  I was told he admitted to partying too much that night (he not only drank but did some drugs as well.  Something I was not into.  And who talks to their mom about this stuff before hand if they don't think they did anything wrong?  Isn't that called damage control?)  I was asked that maybe it didn't happen like that.  That maybe my drinking meant that maybe I had consented and... ???   Yeah.  He was the one being defended.  I was the one no one believed.  Forget that I was wreck.  Forget there were witnesses who said he was the ONLY one in that room with me, and had to help me find my clothes, and soothe me.  No no.  It was my fault.  I should not have drank so much (forget he did too, on top of drugs).  This was my fault.  I must not be remembering correctly.  Forget those who knew... who were there...who saw my pain and panic and tears.  Let me tell you something... life's a bitch.

At first I had wished I had gone ahead and went to the hospital and pressed the charges.  But then I realized that if those closest to me didn't believe me, why would the courts?  To this day he is free man.

I HATE HIM.  I trusted him.  I thought of him like a brother.  And he violated me.  And no one cared.  No one but the two men who helped me find my clothes, watched over me, kept me safe and begged me to go the hospital.

The guy who did this to me has never apologized, never felt remorse, never looked backed.  He didn't care about how what he did affected me.  He doesn't care that when something triggers me it effects me for weeks.  WEEKS!!!  Even to this day!

After this assault, I thought myself a victim.  It took years, YEARS, to push past this.  To push past all of this, and realize I was not a victim.  I was a survivor.  I was actually stronger than I thought.  The sad fact is though, when something triggers me, I feel like a victim all over again.

This kind of thing becomes a part of you.  It changes you in ways you can't even explain.  It becomes a part of who you are.  It's a sick and disgusting thing.  And it's now a part of you.  It shapes how you see others, how you trust, how you see yourself and any self worth you thought you had.  It's sad when 20 years later you still can't see certain scenes in movies or shows because it triggers nightmares.  It triggers all the feelings of helplessness, pain, sorrow, anger,.... so many things.  It NEVER goes away.  Like I said, it becomes a part of you.  You can forget after some time.  But when you least expect it, something will trigger you again.  And it takes quite a while to get back to normal again.  First months, then eventually weeks.   It never really goes away.   I still have issues with self worth.

You see, what this poor woman went through with Brock Turner, is not an exception.  It happens every day.  Every day women are assaulted and no one believes them.  They make them out to be at fault.  IT'S NOT THEIR FAULT!!!  I was in jeans and shirt.  What a woman is wearing does not matter.  If a woman cannot talk, she cannot consent.  A passed out woman is not asking for it.  Neither is one who isn't passed out.

We have to stop blaming the victims.  We need to start holding these predators accountable for their actions.

I no longer trust people like I use too.  My now loving husband had to nurse me through my nightmares (which I still have when triggered).   Seeing all this in the news and on social media has brought back all the pain again.  I don't sleep (not that I was sleeping all that well anyway).  I wake up having nightmares all over again.  Feeling the shame, the pain, the panic, the anger.   I worry about my daughters.  Because I know all too well that those you trust can hurt you in the worst ways.  This is something I carry with me.  I cannot watch certain scenes in movies without flashing back to this night (and a few other assaults I have endured).

I hate what happened to this woman.  I understand her pain.  I hate that Brock Turner got a light slap on the wrist for forever changing this woman's life.  I admire her for having the courage to do what I could not.

Let's stop blaming victims.  Let's start really letting these perverts, these predators, know that they are at fault.  And that we as society will no longer stand idly by and just let them do this.

Randomness

Tonight is full of Random thoughts.

For one.... I am ready to leave this neighborhood.  I find most of the people here judgmental and pretentious.  Not all of them, but most of them.  Even some I thought I knew.  But hey, that's life.

For another... I have realized I am a hot mess.  I don't have all the answers.  I don't have it all together.  And you know what?  THAT IS OKAY!!!  I think most of us don't.  But we all feel like we need to act like we do.  Why?  To impress others?  In the hope that others won't judge us?  Guess what?  People are gonna judge you no matter what.  And most of those that do, don't know the journey you have been on.  They don't know your history.  And they don't care.  They feel better thinking they are better than you with what very little they do know.

I am finally learning (yes, a little late in life) that it does not matter what others think of you.  Truly.  You know who you are.  Those that do you know you, love you, just as you are.  And that is all that matters.  Everyone else can kiss your ass.

It's never a fun thing to take a long look at your life, who is in it, and how it's going.  It can hurt to realize that those you considered a friend, may not actually be friends.  That is never a fun realization to come to.  Trust me.  But it's worth it.

I have spent the last month or so really looking over my life and who is in it.  I am so thankful for those I love and trust, and who accept me as I am.

I am done trying to make new friends and acquaintances.  I am happy in my life.  I am happy with who is in it.  And they are all I need, and all I want.

This may sound bitchy.  Oh well.  When you have walked in my shoes, been judged, and rejected... you will understand.

I plan on spending my summer with my family and my true friends.  God love them for loving me.  And God knows how much I love them.

I am who I am.  I don't try to be anything else.  I am flawed.  I own that.  I would rather be that... be me... be honest... than pretend.   I am a mother who loves her kids.  I am a mother who screws it up sometimes.  I am a wife who is in love with her husband and is devoted to him.  I am a good friend who you can lean on and keeps secrets and is loyal.  I am both a hot mess and grounded person.  I know, a conundrum, right?  Yet true.  In some ways, I am still trying to figure it all out.  And in other ways, I realize there is no figuring it all out.  There is just living, and making memories, and being the best you that you can be in any given moment.  And yes, sometimes, you fall short of that.  And that's okay too.

I am releasing myself of the obligation of getting to know others and trying to be friend to all.  I am releasing myself of thinking that you must be liked.  I am owning who I am instead.  I will embrace it.  I am once again at that point where I no longer give a shit what others think of me.

This is a very freeing thing.  It's also a scary thing.  For everyone wants to be liked.  Everyone hates rejection.

I love fun.  I love laughing.  I love making memories.  I think family comes first.  And I also think some familly is not blood related.  I love to eat good food.  I love good wine.  I love to hang out with others I can joke with, laugh with, or be serious with; all in a short amount of time.  I love all kinds of music.  I love poetry.  I hate politics.  I adore art in all its forms.  I often quote movies and songs.  And I adore those that sing along with me or understand the quotes.  I believe in 2nd chances.  I believe in helping others.  I could go on, but what's the point?  Those that know me... know me.  Those that don't, judge me.  God bless'em.

Life is short.  This is the ONLY one you get.  Be true to you, but always be willing to learn and improve.  Never be afraid to take a chance on something good.  Make good choices.  Make good memories.  And always let those you love, know it.

Scars

Sometimes horrible things happen in life.  You can't change it.  You think you have survived it.  You think have moved on.  And then... a show.. .a movie.. a word... a dream....  It brings it all back.  The wound is ripped opened yet again.  The scab you thought had healed that wound, wasn't what it seemed.  In fact, you have a scar.  A scar is a reminder of what was.  You may forget it's there sometimes, but eventually something makes you remember again.  The pain comes rushing back.  The memories you have tried to block.  Scars are a constant reminder of what once was. 

Scars suck.  Especially certain ones that may not always be seen.  But you know what else scars mean?  They mean you survived. 

To all those with scars.... Those who remember and want to forget.  To those who survived.  We may be haunted, but we live.  May our children never know the pain.

One of those nights....

Easter this year is hard.  Flash back 1989 ... Easter....  I remember looking at my dad's empty seat at the table. Almost the entire family was there afterwards.  I remember the priest.  I remember my mom's words.  I remember being told my dad would not make another 24 hours.  He didn't.  He died the next afternoon.  This Easter is the 27th anniversary of his death.

I have never hated any holiday more than I do Easter.  I know what it means... Christian wise.  But I still hate it.  It's hard to make this day good for my kids when even to this day... I hate it.  But I try.  I like to think I do good by them.

God help me.  God help us all.