A little over a year has past.
NO more financial support. NO more psychiatric support. Only a year's time to nurture my mind.
When the one year mark passed, I reflected quietly and told myself that life just has to move on. Of course it has, and I have had a few realizations is the continuum of time.
That girl/woman/mom is gone. I will never be the same again. I am ok with this. I suppose others won't, and I will gravitate towards others that will accept me as I am. I talked to Lydia, my daughter, about this, and she is fine with it, so she says. I worry what sort of impact this may have on her life. I want her to see me strong and able, and not vulnerable. I'm failing.
I prefer the comfort of my home and animals. I love nothing more than a chat with the kid, and dinner at home. I simply don't want to be a social butterfly, let alone meet and greet folks on a daily basis.
Drama, stress, and responsibility for others lives are triggers for me, and I refuse to participate in any of it.
Strangely enough, I have chosen to enter the customer service world. It seems I still am interested in people, and love to talk to them, just don't want to make a personal connection with them, ever. It works for me right now.
I cry inside every day. I suppose a mini pity party. It has made me hard, and more aware than I have ever been in my life. People suck overall, which I am sure everyone knows and I look forward to the day when this rock we inhabit gives up and we dissolve away from worry and angst.
So I pray.
I skip day to day thinking I am better. Then I find my daughter walking me away from some stillness in time. Never knowing when the PTSD might surface is fucking awesome. The good news -- I'm grateful for a daughter that understands more than most people my age. If you take anything from my words, remember that one does not simply "get better" from a rape, or from any traumatic event.
The purpose of this missive is twofold. I sincerely want to tell my dear friends that even though I don't make an effort to make appearances, I still hold you all in my heart and love you dearly. I've thought a lot about how wrong it is to isolate myself, but I'm allowing it, because I can. For those of you that continue to contact me, and love me despite my estranged situation, THANK YOU. so there is that.....
More importantly, I wanted you all to learn along with me. Even though I'm hiding, and doing the best I can, I have learned what NOT to do as a friend to someone who is struggling. Don't treat people differently. Hugs and people heal. If your friend chooses isolation, go to them. That doesn't have to mean literally. Pretending that you are helping by giving them space does not help. Dropping a line via email, a text, even a reference to your friendship in a conversation sometimes is enough to just help someone make it through the day. Depending on your level of friendship, react accordingly.
Everyday I hope for the best. I have my daughter, and my dogs, and my family and my friends. I love my house at the beach, and the comfort it brings me.
Finally, I want you all to know that help is available. If it wasn't for the many resources available, I probably would not be here writing this.
And in other news:...anyone want a cat?
Tuesday, September 9, 2014
Friday, May 16, 2014
My Ocean.
I realized today that I am in the middle of an amazing love affair. I'm giddy.
I tried to deny it, and keep it all in perspective, but anyone that knows me is aware that just isn't my strong suit. My heart resides on my sleeve. Some say it makes me who I am. Some says it's my biggest weakness. I choose to not define it. I can only be who I am.
I try to be with my love each day. Occasionally, time doesn't allow. I don't feel whole on these days. However, it's easy to put myself back in the arms of my loved one, even if we can't physically touch.
She has no idea how much I love her. She has no idea how much anyone loves her. She just does her thing and does it well. No one will ever be able to match the majesty that she can create. She is AWESOME.
It's unfortunate that I have to share her. I want to be selfish, and make her all mine. Alas, it's not allowed. So I make the most of the time I have, and cherish the moments that nurture my heart.
Sometimes I can stay with her for hours. I am spoiled in that respect. Even though I am not alone with her, I feel like she is the only one in my soul.
I can sit for hours and just listen to her. I don't have to see her...but just hear her. It's a sweet song of love and commitment that no one else is the universe can match. It frees me, A melody that can be as gentle as plush, and as harsh as a firestorm. Either way, I feel mesmerized by the notes that only she can reach.
Under no circumstance does she fail me. If I need her, she is there. If I need to dream of her, she paints my dreams. If I need a safe place, she cradles me. When I need a friend, there is never a time she won't listen.
She gives and gives and doesn't even know how much it means to me. She never will. I take and take, and she never complains. Sometimes I feel guilty, but inside my heart I feel like she is OK, despite my shortcomings.
The definition of perfection, there she is.
Sometimes I walk along and pretend the birds are playing a silly game with me. I can't catch up, but I never care. I suppose they don't either.
I meet so many amazing people on her shores, and she has no idea how much grace it takes to arrange such meetings, and want nothing in return.
Canines endlessly run with smiles, nose to the ground, and never cease to greet me. I wish everyone could be that happy; as happy as an unleashed dog on the beach. It's how I want to live my life. But I can only do it on her shores.
The mighty Pacific is the perfect lover.
I have made many mistakes in my life. Sometimes my judgement has been questioned and my motives maligned. However,,,moving and residing mere moments from the shores of her belly is NOT one of them. Happiness comes in many forms, mine lulls me to sleep.
Sleep well my love.
Monday, May 12, 2014
I can only imagine....
Yesterday, on Mother's Day, I had the honor of dining with my Grandmother. She is 94. She is amazing.
It really was an amazing time, and we hugged and laughed and cried. I am lucky that my daughter has gotten to know her Great Grandmother, and learn from her as I have.
In the middle of our meal, time stood still, for about 8-9 seconds. I couldn't move, and I haven't stopped thinking about it since. The simplest action.....
After a non significant bite, my Grandmother reached over and picked up my phone. My iphone.
I couldn't speak because the view caught me off guard. Here was this woman, who probably never imagined in her life that she would be where she is now, looking at a piece of technology that looked like a planet from another galaxy. She didn't make a big deal of it, and her facial expression didn't change either. She just looked. She finally set it down, and I quickly quipped, "It's a camera too!" Expressionless and without words, she picked up her fork and went back to eating.
I now hate my phone. I hate that I carry it and rely so heavily on it's presence in my life.
Born in 1920, My Grandmother lived through an era that has seen not only an industrial revolution, but also a technological revolution. Kicked out of her house at about 12 years of age, she has gone from making bread from scratch, to buying it in a store. She washed her clothes by hand as a child, and now has the luxury of an automatic washing machine. I pretend to understand. But I can't.
I watched my grandmother wash tin foil and save it. I have seen her reuse one box of ziploc bags over and over again. She used to save every empty gallon of bleach and fill it with water and stow it away under the house. We made ice cream by hand. Hours of hanging clothes on the line, and tending a garden the size of what seemed like a city block.
Church on Sunday, Ravioli's on Christmas Eve, Family reunions, and fellowship. Even after my Grandparents retired, they were philanthropic. Giving to those that needed, again and again.
She literally was in LOVE with my Grandfather, and vice versa. They had hard times but always told me that they never went to bed mad.
She canned everything, and could cook the shit out of anything! Going out to eat was a very rare luxury. Always sitting down for a meal, table set to the nines. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
They saved their money. They tithed. They spent responsibly and borrowed responsibly.
They had the same phone and the same phone number for as long as I can remember.
My grandmother has no idea what WI-FI is. And, she doesn't care. Hasn't a clue what an xbox is, or how cell phones work. It's just not important to her. Why is it so important to me?
I could make a lot of excuses for why I have a cell phone, and all the luxuries that she never had, but the truth is, I'm lazy. WE are all lazy. Everything she had to work so hard for, are now at our fingertips. It cost more, it's worse for us, but we still take the easier route. I know how to make bread. But I don't. It would be cheaper and save money to hang the clothes on the line, but it's faster and easier to throw them in the dryer. Ya see, my grandparents, YOUR grandparents were doing it right all along. They saved and conserved when they didn't have to, and we NEED to, and don't.
I have more respect for my Grandmother than any other person on the planet. She went "Green" long before it was cool. She recycled, She didn't worry about GMO's or fighting to have them removed. She grew and canned her own food. Our grandparents did it right.
And there she was, looking at my cellphone. My stupid iphone. I think I will go bake a pie.
It really was an amazing time, and we hugged and laughed and cried. I am lucky that my daughter has gotten to know her Great Grandmother, and learn from her as I have.
In the middle of our meal, time stood still, for about 8-9 seconds. I couldn't move, and I haven't stopped thinking about it since. The simplest action.....
After a non significant bite, my Grandmother reached over and picked up my phone. My iphone.
I couldn't speak because the view caught me off guard. Here was this woman, who probably never imagined in her life that she would be where she is now, looking at a piece of technology that looked like a planet from another galaxy. She didn't make a big deal of it, and her facial expression didn't change either. She just looked. She finally set it down, and I quickly quipped, "It's a camera too!" Expressionless and without words, she picked up her fork and went back to eating.
I now hate my phone. I hate that I carry it and rely so heavily on it's presence in my life.
Born in 1920, My Grandmother lived through an era that has seen not only an industrial revolution, but also a technological revolution. Kicked out of her house at about 12 years of age, she has gone from making bread from scratch, to buying it in a store. She washed her clothes by hand as a child, and now has the luxury of an automatic washing machine. I pretend to understand. But I can't.
I watched my grandmother wash tin foil and save it. I have seen her reuse one box of ziploc bags over and over again. She used to save every empty gallon of bleach and fill it with water and stow it away under the house. We made ice cream by hand. Hours of hanging clothes on the line, and tending a garden the size of what seemed like a city block.
Church on Sunday, Ravioli's on Christmas Eve, Family reunions, and fellowship. Even after my Grandparents retired, they were philanthropic. Giving to those that needed, again and again.
She literally was in LOVE with my Grandfather, and vice versa. They had hard times but always told me that they never went to bed mad.
She canned everything, and could cook the shit out of anything! Going out to eat was a very rare luxury. Always sitting down for a meal, table set to the nines. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
They saved their money. They tithed. They spent responsibly and borrowed responsibly.
They had the same phone and the same phone number for as long as I can remember.
My grandmother has no idea what WI-FI is. And, she doesn't care. Hasn't a clue what an xbox is, or how cell phones work. It's just not important to her. Why is it so important to me?
I could make a lot of excuses for why I have a cell phone, and all the luxuries that she never had, but the truth is, I'm lazy. WE are all lazy. Everything she had to work so hard for, are now at our fingertips. It cost more, it's worse for us, but we still take the easier route. I know how to make bread. But I don't. It would be cheaper and save money to hang the clothes on the line, but it's faster and easier to throw them in the dryer. Ya see, my grandparents, YOUR grandparents were doing it right all along. They saved and conserved when they didn't have to, and we NEED to, and don't.
I have more respect for my Grandmother than any other person on the planet. She went "Green" long before it was cool. She recycled, She didn't worry about GMO's or fighting to have them removed. She grew and canned her own food. Our grandparents did it right.
And there she was, looking at my cellphone. My stupid iphone. I think I will go bake a pie.
Thursday, May 8, 2014
To The Class of 2014
It's almost here. It's time for you to spread your wings and leave the days of high school behind you. It's time for you to meet the world.
The World, may not be ready to meet you. In my 43 years I have learned a few things. I find myself reflecting on my youth and saying, "Damn, I wish I had known that." And now, I shall share my reflections with you.
Good Luck to all of you. It has been a pleasure watching you all grow into young adults. Being on top in the Senior world probably has you thinking....I got this shit. Yeah well....
Your tiny little world is about to explode. NO matter if you go off to college, into the military, or right into a career. An explosion is coming that you are NOT ready for. The world out there has one mission, and that is to BREAK you. You must NOT let it.
The following is a list of things recommended for survival, and you have 3 months to check everything off this list.
The day you graduate, take inventory of your circle. Look your Mom or Dad, or Grandma or whoever, straight in the eye, and sincerely say thank you. Tell them how you feel, and share your fears with them. You owe this to yourself. A discussion of monumental proportion will ensue. Take notes. They have been there. Listen, and say thank you.
Sit down and write a list of things you wish to accomplish in the next 10 years. Stow it in a safe place, and leave it.
Take mental inventory of where you live. The next step in your life is apt to take you away from the safety of your comfort zone. While you are soaking in the amazement of other regions of the planet, never forget the beauty and comfort of the area in which you were raised.
Decide what you will and wont accept in your life. This is a short list of very important things that mean the most to you. This will be more important than you think. In the years to come, you will be tested time and again to bend your judgement and value system. Defining them now will help you stay the course.
Understand the word , "CULTURE" Look it up if you have to. Study it. You were raised in a culture, and as time goes on, your will experience different perspectives to your own. Unless you decide early on to understand instead of resist, life will be harder on you.
In the next 3 months, remind yourself that you live in a tiny section of the world. Looking at things globally will exponentially guide your successes. Whether you are from a small town or a city, remember, there are billions of people on this planet.....and they deserve just as much as you do.
Apply for and get a credit card immediately. Don't tell anyone you have it. Stow it in your wallet or purse and breathe easy knowing that you not only have something for emergencies, but you have also started building your credit that will help you later in life.
Read and learn. Suck in knowledge like you never have. High School and all the elementary education you have received up to this point has been structured. The curriculum is no different than any other school, and it also is just as bland and jaded as a person could fathom. Rich guys in expensive suits have decided what you should and shouldn't learn. Those boundaries are now gone, so go get it!
Have fun! Being young is a privilege. Don't waste a minute. Enjoy people, and life, and explore! Your youth will not last forever. We are all dying slowly, don't squander it.
THERE IS NO RULE THAT SAYS YOU HAVE TO GET MARRIED AND HAVE CHILDREN.
Being Reckless as a youngster will haunt you the rest of your life. If making bad decisions and having a criminal record is on your agenda, take it off now. Times have changed. You CANNOT leave your past behind you.
Find your faith. In the toughest of times, finding a center of peace will serve you best.
Reach for the stars. The world, as they say, really is your oyster. What they don't tell you, is that you have to jump through hoops to get there. Jump. Jump and practice jumping. There is no get rich quick scenario. There is no straight line to get what you want. Being flexible is necessary.
Be humble and philanthropic. Understanding that we are all in this together will keep you grounded and centered, and even though that sounds like bullshit right now, as you get older, you will appreciate this. Give if you can, even if it's your time.
Time is going to fly by, make sure you take notice of the minutes. The imprints people leave on you will linger, and sometime, when you are 40, you will suddenly remember....take notice.
Question everything. The reality that you have been made to believe is not what it seems. Ask questions.
Go live your lives young ones. Be happy, and sad and busy and fun. I want to know that your generation is going to make a difference. You have to. We need help. We NEED change.
After you throw your cap in the air.....get busy. Life is moving at a pace that you can't beat.
Congratulations.
Sunday, January 12, 2014
Dear Seahawk Fans.....
So, I had a come to Jesus talk with a good friend some time ago. A really good friend. A friend that made me realize the errors of my way....so...
I realized today that I have been hard on ya'll.And here is why.
I have been a football fan since birth. Not since a winning season, but since birth. I have been through good years, and bad years, and emotions you will NEVER understand. These emotions not necessarily associated with the team I support. Life events. You have missed a lot.
While I can't make you understand exactly what I am talking about, I can sure as hell try and paint a picture for you.
Call me old fashioned. Call me an asshole. I don't care. Facts are facts. I know part of the way I feel depends entirely on history, but what exactly makes YOU the person you are? The future? The past?
I have gotten more hate mail than I care to talk about. The truth is, most of the hate mail came from people that could NEVER talk sports with me. I grew up with two brothers, and a family that watched sporting events. All of them. Some of you youngsters probably have no way to understand that when I was a wee one, there were 3 channels, and on the weekends, you didn't have a choice, you watched sports.
While it is true that I am mostly a baseball and football fan, I still know more than you do. I have memories etched in my mind from many games. Moments in time that I remember exactly where I was sitting when it happened.
So my friend told me this: "They have to learn about the game somehow." This is true, but buying a jersey and and vowing to avenge the last Superbowl appearance does not a fan make. Maybe a fan of some sort, but not a real fan. A bandwagon fan.
Perhaps I can see that many people NEED something to hold on to. Maybe the Hawks will pull it off. Maybe.
I grew up in a very different time. Games were played and you lived and died on plays, draft picks, scores, and championships. You did not bitch about referees, or make excuses. You lived and died at the hands of something you had NO control over. It's what built healthy rivalries. It's what built Dynasties.
Don't fool yourself into thinking I have only supported the Steelers. Many years when my boys weren't in the running, I would follow the AFC to the end. Why? Same reason I follow the American League to the end. I love sports. I love talented players. I love the way I feel to see true greatness. And when my team wasn't the greatest, then I enjoyed who was.
They certainly don't make many athletes like they used to. No real heroes. No classy players that just play for the love of the game. Not many boys left that can tell you what it means to work your ass off day after day, not to win games, but to do your personal best to help your team. You have none of those players this year.
Larry Bird, Cecil Fielder, Joe Montana, Don Mattingly, Michael Jordan. The list goes on.
I remember where I was sitting for the "Snowplow Game". I was a toddler when the "Immaculate Reception" happened and I can still tell you the players involved. I remember how much it hurt to watch Kenny Easley hit someone. The sheer art it was to watch Marino connect with Clayton and Duper. The marathon of replays of Theisman's broken leg.
One thing I know for sure. Steeler fans are born, not made. Perhaps that is what ya'll don't understand. I have NEVER met another Steeler's fan that recounts what "year" they became a fan. The answer is always the same, since birth.
I will admit that I do know some folks that have been a Seahawks fans from the beginning. My best friend is one of them. He doesn't send me hate mail, or cry in his Wheaties about years gone by. He also acknowledges my love of the games. After every weekend we compare notes, and out of sheer respect, we either congratulate or console one another. That is what sports is all about.
Dallas, San Fran, Chicago, even New England. Dynasties. You can't and won't know what it feels like....perhaps never.
So good luck this year. I truthfully only want them to win for those fans that know who started the day they played their first game. (without google.) Mostly, I hope the Seahawks blow it again. Again. And, when Russell Wilson is scoring 6 for the Texans and or some other team in the future, remember my words. Buy a fancy plastic sleeve for the jersey that will hang in your closet for years, and remember.......There is no crying in football.
The Niners have history and experience on their side. The Hawks have a history of nothing. I hope that brand new jersey you bought makes you feel like you are part of something. After next weekend, I hope that you accept it for what it is, and wont make excuses for why yet another year has slipped away, without a championship.
If I am wrong, I will admit it. However, you never will. It's just a game.
03bee591a503c7b88d2724b699bf756a0a43a863ec508ebc94
I realized today that I have been hard on ya'll.And here is why.
I have been a football fan since birth. Not since a winning season, but since birth. I have been through good years, and bad years, and emotions you will NEVER understand. These emotions not necessarily associated with the team I support. Life events. You have missed a lot.
While I can't make you understand exactly what I am talking about, I can sure as hell try and paint a picture for you.
Call me old fashioned. Call me an asshole. I don't care. Facts are facts. I know part of the way I feel depends entirely on history, but what exactly makes YOU the person you are? The future? The past?
I have gotten more hate mail than I care to talk about. The truth is, most of the hate mail came from people that could NEVER talk sports with me. I grew up with two brothers, and a family that watched sporting events. All of them. Some of you youngsters probably have no way to understand that when I was a wee one, there were 3 channels, and on the weekends, you didn't have a choice, you watched sports.
While it is true that I am mostly a baseball and football fan, I still know more than you do. I have memories etched in my mind from many games. Moments in time that I remember exactly where I was sitting when it happened.
So my friend told me this: "They have to learn about the game somehow." This is true, but buying a jersey and and vowing to avenge the last Superbowl appearance does not a fan make. Maybe a fan of some sort, but not a real fan. A bandwagon fan.
Perhaps I can see that many people NEED something to hold on to. Maybe the Hawks will pull it off. Maybe.
I grew up in a very different time. Games were played and you lived and died on plays, draft picks, scores, and championships. You did not bitch about referees, or make excuses. You lived and died at the hands of something you had NO control over. It's what built healthy rivalries. It's what built Dynasties.
Don't fool yourself into thinking I have only supported the Steelers. Many years when my boys weren't in the running, I would follow the AFC to the end. Why? Same reason I follow the American League to the end. I love sports. I love talented players. I love the way I feel to see true greatness. And when my team wasn't the greatest, then I enjoyed who was.
They certainly don't make many athletes like they used to. No real heroes. No classy players that just play for the love of the game. Not many boys left that can tell you what it means to work your ass off day after day, not to win games, but to do your personal best to help your team. You have none of those players this year.
Larry Bird, Cecil Fielder, Joe Montana, Don Mattingly, Michael Jordan. The list goes on.
I remember where I was sitting for the "Snowplow Game". I was a toddler when the "Immaculate Reception" happened and I can still tell you the players involved. I remember how much it hurt to watch Kenny Easley hit someone. The sheer art it was to watch Marino connect with Clayton and Duper. The marathon of replays of Theisman's broken leg.
One thing I know for sure. Steeler fans are born, not made. Perhaps that is what ya'll don't understand. I have NEVER met another Steeler's fan that recounts what "year" they became a fan. The answer is always the same, since birth.
I will admit that I do know some folks that have been a Seahawks fans from the beginning. My best friend is one of them. He doesn't send me hate mail, or cry in his Wheaties about years gone by. He also acknowledges my love of the games. After every weekend we compare notes, and out of sheer respect, we either congratulate or console one another. That is what sports is all about.
Dallas, San Fran, Chicago, even New England. Dynasties. You can't and won't know what it feels like....perhaps never.
So good luck this year. I truthfully only want them to win for those fans that know who started the day they played their first game. (without google.) Mostly, I hope the Seahawks blow it again. Again. And, when Russell Wilson is scoring 6 for the Texans and or some other team in the future, remember my words. Buy a fancy plastic sleeve for the jersey that will hang in your closet for years, and remember.......There is no crying in football.
The Niners have history and experience on their side. The Hawks have a history of nothing. I hope that brand new jersey you bought makes you feel like you are part of something. After next weekend, I hope that you accept it for what it is, and wont make excuses for why yet another year has slipped away, without a championship.
If I am wrong, I will admit it. However, you never will. It's just a game.
03bee591a503c7b88d2724b699bf756a0a43a863ec508ebc94
Tuesday, November 26, 2013
Consider yourself warned.
Nothing can prepare you for this.
I am supposed to want this. I don't.
I have spent a couple or a few months trying to find what normal looks like again. And, now.....I'm all fucked up again.
Writing helps me, so here goes.
When someone hurts you in the most obtrusive way, there is no magic potion to make it go away. Therapy, and time and loved ones take up space in the pain, but the mind doesn't let go of things arbitrarily.
If it isn't anxiety, it's nightmares. If it isn't self doubt, it's humiliation. Days drag on, and all I can do is find a way to make the time go. Go away.
I am so pissed off. What part of justice protects me? Justice is suppose to mean something good. I just want to hide and work on finding my way through. I do not want to relive this, and talk about it for weeks. I don't want to see him. EVER. I just want to move forward. I am now forced to move backwards.
Part of this is inexplicable. No one really knows, (except for my therapist) how many demons surf through my thoughts. And I suppose, if people knew, it wouldn't help. However, trying to justify being batshit crazy is impossible.
The truth. I know I am loved. I have many people that care for me. I move in that direction as often as possible. But, at what point do I become a liability to my circle? It worries me. So I prefer alone.
I lean on prayer, and am starved for hope. I read, and study, and practice, and redirect. I battle logic and emotion minute by minute. The most innocent gesture from a person can turn me upside down...and I FUCKING HATE THAT.
Words become oh so objective. Looking in the mirror. Behaving rationally. I feel like an infant.
I WANT to believe it is going to be ok. I WANT to believe that this is a step forward. I WANT to believe that justice will heal me. I just can't.
I miss my old self. I miss the way my thought processes soothed me. I miss just feeling purposeful and significant. I miss Casi.
The funny thing is, I spent so much time in my life pretending to be happy, and now, I can't even do that.
I want to believe this too shall pass....but what if it doesn't?
I am supposed to want this. I don't.
I have spent a couple or a few months trying to find what normal looks like again. And, now.....I'm all fucked up again.
Writing helps me, so here goes.
When someone hurts you in the most obtrusive way, there is no magic potion to make it go away. Therapy, and time and loved ones take up space in the pain, but the mind doesn't let go of things arbitrarily.
If it isn't anxiety, it's nightmares. If it isn't self doubt, it's humiliation. Days drag on, and all I can do is find a way to make the time go. Go away.
I am so pissed off. What part of justice protects me? Justice is suppose to mean something good. I just want to hide and work on finding my way through. I do not want to relive this, and talk about it for weeks. I don't want to see him. EVER. I just want to move forward. I am now forced to move backwards.
Part of this is inexplicable. No one really knows, (except for my therapist) how many demons surf through my thoughts. And I suppose, if people knew, it wouldn't help. However, trying to justify being batshit crazy is impossible.
The truth. I know I am loved. I have many people that care for me. I move in that direction as often as possible. But, at what point do I become a liability to my circle? It worries me. So I prefer alone.
I lean on prayer, and am starved for hope. I read, and study, and practice, and redirect. I battle logic and emotion minute by minute. The most innocent gesture from a person can turn me upside down...and I FUCKING HATE THAT.
Words become oh so objective. Looking in the mirror. Behaving rationally. I feel like an infant.
I WANT to believe it is going to be ok. I WANT to believe that this is a step forward. I WANT to believe that justice will heal me. I just can't.
I miss my old self. I miss the way my thought processes soothed me. I miss just feeling purposeful and significant. I miss Casi.
The funny thing is, I spent so much time in my life pretending to be happy, and now, I can't even do that.
I want to believe this too shall pass....but what if it doesn't?
Thursday, October 31, 2013
My Wiener
I was with her when it happened.
He hurt me too.
Maybe ya'll don't understand, but --we have been through hell. And I won't leave her, ever.
I knew something was wrong immediately. It's hard for her to tell, cuz she doesn't have my sixth sense, but her demeanor changed too. I'm sure in retrospect she realizes that.
I was mad and on high alert instantly. My barks drew no concern, as well, that is just what I do. I tried to change my pitch, and still....I was commanded to behave. I got a couple of bites in though.
When things turned bad in a hurry, I pounced. All 8 pounds of me, with all my might! I took a shoe to the guts, and rolled against the wall. And they were gone.
I felt helpless as my yelps fell on deaf ears. I heard cries, and muffled whimpers, but mostly, I felt helpless. I barked and cried. It all happened so fast.
The door opened and I ran to my mom. She was on the floor, crying. The intruder was gone, in an instant. I just sat and licked her tears as she shook.
After a bit, she sorta snapped. No more tears, no more shaking. I felt mildly relieved, but knew it wasn't ok. I followed at her feet as she hurried to make it all ok. It was disturbing. Soon, a false normalcy painted our scene, and I was left to helpless again, not knowing exactly what to do. So I stayed true.
I vowed then and there to not leave her side.
A short while later she disappeared for a few days, and then reappeared, visibly shattered. It.was.hell.
Some time has past since this all plagued our lives. Some people laugh at her cuz she has made me a face book page. Some laugh cuz we are inseparable. Not even her child fully understands what we experienced together.
Love doesn't have to be human to human. Love doesn't have to be animal to animal. I love her, and I won't leave her side.
She is My human.
www.rainn.org
www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org
He hurt me too.
Maybe ya'll don't understand, but --we have been through hell. And I won't leave her, ever.
I knew something was wrong immediately. It's hard for her to tell, cuz she doesn't have my sixth sense, but her demeanor changed too. I'm sure in retrospect she realizes that.
I was mad and on high alert instantly. My barks drew no concern, as well, that is just what I do. I tried to change my pitch, and still....I was commanded to behave. I got a couple of bites in though.
When things turned bad in a hurry, I pounced. All 8 pounds of me, with all my might! I took a shoe to the guts, and rolled against the wall. And they were gone.
I felt helpless as my yelps fell on deaf ears. I heard cries, and muffled whimpers, but mostly, I felt helpless. I barked and cried. It all happened so fast.
The door opened and I ran to my mom. She was on the floor, crying. The intruder was gone, in an instant. I just sat and licked her tears as she shook.
After a bit, she sorta snapped. No more tears, no more shaking. I felt mildly relieved, but knew it wasn't ok. I followed at her feet as she hurried to make it all ok. It was disturbing. Soon, a false normalcy painted our scene, and I was left to helpless again, not knowing exactly what to do. So I stayed true.
I vowed then and there to not leave her side.
A short while later she disappeared for a few days, and then reappeared, visibly shattered. It.was.hell.
Some time has past since this all plagued our lives. Some people laugh at her cuz she has made me a face book page. Some laugh cuz we are inseparable. Not even her child fully understands what we experienced together.
Love doesn't have to be human to human. Love doesn't have to be animal to animal. I love her, and I won't leave her side.
She is My human.
www.rainn.org
www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org
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