Wednesday, May 25, 2011

My sweet lil Dog Sebastion died a few days ago.

I am still going to be writing but this is going to take a bit. I'm going to give myself the time I need to work through it. I'm  trying to slowly get out of the funk I'm in. This may take a few days, or more. I'm writing down everything I remember about him so I can do a blog on the lil fella. I am just so exhausted that I'll write a little while and then have to lay down.and go to sleep for a while every time I work on it cause it drains me so. I may not write much until I can pull myself out of this. I know I'm going to be ok. I just need time to mourn for my friend. I hope you understand. Its been a hard, HARD week. But just so you can get a feel for who my lil buddy was..heres a video/pictures we put together with the song "Take A Chance One Me " by ABBA....I think this could have been his theme song:p. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QtzQRq6qSFA

Sunday, May 22, 2011

Two negatives make a POSITIVE!

Ug, I had a bad experience at CHURCH of all places.:p I CAN’T stand SELF RIGHTEOUS PEOPLE. Why don’t they go and tell everyone else in the class who is talking to shush.? Not pick on me? Those people are EVERYWHERE.. I’ve been shushed all my life, shushed in my family, and I made a decision that I would NEVER be shushed again.
STOP singling me OUT! Before you shush me, If you think your so self-righteous as to think you can shush me, shush the ENTIRE class. I am WHISPERING for heaven’s sake, and about the LESSON. I am not talking to you; I am talking about personal experiences with a friend.
My husband and I were talking and he had some thoughts that I think are very valid here…
In mathematics a negative times a positive is still negative. But negative times a negative is STILL positive. If you treat me negatively EXPECT it in return and then the WHOLE thing is positive.:P  Two wrongs don’t make a right?  Two wrongs CAN make a right. IT can stop things from happening again. It can make it so some MORON does not CONTINUE to walk on someone else. Saying “two wrongs don’t make a right” is usually  just used to not deal a problem, or people who are afraid to deal with a problem and  for abusers to oppress others, trying to ENSURE there is no resistance. Not that I’m getting away from the golden role, but some USE the golden rule to their own advantage, to allow the oppression  of others.
Put that in your pipe n smoke it!
A lot of abusers get away with WAY too much because of this.
Two wrongs can make a right. STAND up for what you believe in, Stand up for what’s right. EVEN if it’ requires a negative response. Abusers many times use “two wrongs don’t make a right” as an excuse to beat, abuse and hurt and not expect anything in return. But I think it’s really the enablers that perpetuate everything by saying it. They enable the situation to continue by not CONFRONTING the problem – somehow thinking “confrontation is negative” and that “two negatives don’t make a positive”. Even though math, and life don’t necessarily agree. It’s amazing what we can convince ourselves of.
Getting beaten is a negative, ridicule is negative, shushing is negative, gossip is a negative, and imposing your will on someone else is a NEGATIVE. And not standing up to it will never lead to anything good. Negative times a positive will never lead to a positive. So it is in Mathematics, so it is in LIFE.
Gandhi was a good example of this. He did NOT react. But he reacted in a non-violent way that brought about GOOD. People who don’t react end up being rugs that people walk on. If people don’t confront their problems, whether they be individuals, beliefs, or prejudices, things will never get better. Unless God intervenes… and that’s not always the best for everyone. Forces of nature  don’t tend to be much fun, but they do tend to bring people closer together. Hmmmm.
Does that make me a force of nature? Lol Or a force  to be reckoned with? HA!:p

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

All Play And No Work Make Jane A Dull GIrl


Ok, so it’s a word play on “The Shining”, (Which is a GREAT book, by the way-and NOT the Jack Nickelson version, they TOTALLY ruined the book! The TV version was MUCH better starring Steven Weber, Rebecca De Mornay, Courtland Mead, check it out some Halloween….it really goes into the character, and they are SO much more lovable than that LAME Jack Nicholson version ever was. I HATED that movie. The only redeemable quality in it it’s the “Heres Johnny” part…but oh WAIT! They got that from Stephen Kings BOOK so… meh.. Ok… so not like me…lol now I’m totally off topic…let me take a deep breath and go back …:P)

So if you’re not getting any work done, nothings shining…The furniture, the fridge, the Knives…….muuuuahhahahahah…lol...haha:p

In the book  “Little Women” (Sorry, I’m gonna go all girly on ya for a minute, but it has a good morale.) From the Shining, to Little women. Man this is a twisted blog :p

The women in the book decide on an experiment for a week. One character Meg decides she’s going to “Lie abed late. Jo decided to read, and Beth, Ava and the other girls all decided to not do any lessons, but play all the time and rest, if mother doesn’t mind” (Their poor mother:p)

Their mother being wise said “You may try your experiment for a week and see how you like it. You may find that all play and no work is as bad as all work and no play”

They all toasted each other. “Fun forever and NO grubbing” Cried Jo!

Little by little they realize it’s NOT fun. The entire house ends up in a pigsty, no one has to do dishes even though they are piling up, Everyone is grumpy because they are bored, Jo gets a headache from reading too much, One girl reverts to stuffing a mess under the couch, and Saturday morning one of the girls finds their pet canary is stone cold DEAD because…nobody FED the poor thing. (DUH!)

And their mother is mysteriously absent Saturday morning. Taking a “break “for the day she says. No fire in the hearth, no breakfast ready, no food out for supper.

In the end they all realize how awful things are when everybody doesn’t help out. Their mom teaches them an important lesson. Nothing goes right when people are only thinking of themselves. ESPECIALLY when it comes to work.

Many hands make light work isn’t just a phrase, it’s the TRUTH.

And if you are thinking well. "Cleaning is women’s work", (Shame on you…lol) you are sadly mistaken dear reader. My husband and I have become so much closer through working TOGETHER than working apart. I remember Joe and I used to go at it....him about work, I about all I did, it it was some kind of twisted competition to see who did more. It shouldn't be that way.

A few minutes ago I was thinking about our fights way back when on it and I realized we haven’t had that age old fight that I bet MANY people have (Or don’t because there are some people who don’t speak up, but are still bitter about it) that that so many men and women have. FOR YEARS.  “I do all this” “Well, I do all that” it’s a ridiculous battle.

When we first married I started small. I told Joe that if he left stuff out, he would find it under the bed. Made for a lot of lost socks lol. At my house NOW  we have a routine. I can't believe it took me 16 years to figure this out. When I first started the routine Joe threw a fit, but now he’s totally into it.The routine is....Wed morning, when I get up, I undo the sheets on the bed on my side (NOW Joe does the other side) Then Joe brings them to the washer where I get it going. AND he brings down the clothes hamper (That is all his doing now, I used to always do that part, I never asked him to but he does, it’s pretty cool:))But I get the laundry done, on the washer, dryer side of it and I bring it upstairs) By the time he’s done with work all the laundry’s on our bench, along with the stuff to make the bed. SO we make the bed, together. Then we put the laundry on the bed and sort it while we watch TV. Together.

First time I did this when he came home to it he was really angry and threw a fit but now, to his credit, he really helps, and he could have been a jerk and refused to. To his credit, he was a real man and did what needed to be done. In the end, its not the flowers, the presents and the promises. (Though all that is nice) Its the CONTINUOUS help that women crave, and men who help instead of just sitting around watching tv or being selfish and not helping just makes for a bitter, overworked wife.

Working together is really good us time and time to talk. Thursday I get up especially early and do all the cleaning of the house except for the vacuuming. Then Joe gets up (around 5 or 7 am) and does the vacuuming, starting with my yoga room so I can do yoga while he’s vacuuming.

Then the weekend is OURS!

The only thing that’s always left to do every day is the dishes. At my house EVERYONE does their OWN. After we’ve eaten, everyone (In our case now, just the two of us, but my daughter did when she was home) washes off their own plate. After all the person who ate off it made the mess so why not just be fair and clean the thing off and out of messes’ way. (I know it’s harder with teenagers though. I had to CONTINUALLY remind my daughter, UG!) Put it in the dishwasher till its full, then Joe and I take out the dishes together. We have a system for that too. I do the top, he does the bottom, and when were sick, we help each other out by whoever isn't as sick taking them out but we still do our own dishes.

As to cooking, a lot of times I do it all in one shot,(Not always) but I make good food. Fettuccini, Ziti, Beef stroganoff and THai Tom Kai Gai are some of what I make. When I'm done cooking the bulk of the food we put it all into little bowls and stick some in the fridge, some in the freezer. The house smells AMAZING. Then together we do the clean up.

Sundays we make pancakes together, with fresh blueberries (I like bananas in mine with the blueberies. Theres a great store called Winco that has the most amazing 10 grain pancake mix in bulk, If you have one, go try it out:) We like it better than buttermilk pancakes which is werid, I've NEVER liked 10 grain pancakes before.)

I FINALLY feel like we are PARTNERS, and that I am not my husband’s maid. It makes for a happy house. It REALLY isn't fair for the woman to do all the work. I complained for years instead of being proactive and it got me NOWHERE, just miserable.

All it took was me being proactive:) That changed everything.

I have learned that in life, EVERYTHING takes being proactive. Life was not meant to just sit back and complain about, it was meant to be LIVED, explored, boldly going where no man ever has;) and CHALLENGING ourselves, seeing what we are capable of. And if the little things get in the way, (Like laundry…lol)  how will we get where we need to go? We NEED each other. We need to help each other.  TO INSPIRE each other. To let a person know that the things they are trying to do in life are important.

Again….Many hands make light work.

It might be uncomfortable for a while, because people aren’t happy   that they actually have to HELP.

In my mind if you’re getting your kids to help, ESPECIALLY the boys, it teaches them a good lesson. Any mom who does not teach their sons to help around the house is doing a disservice to the women that their sons marry, in my opinion. The women who don't have their sons help are basically telling them it’s ok for a women to do all the work. In essence, unwittingly, that women make good maids. I don’t think that’s a good lesson.

Women were meant to be a man’s  EQUAL, their PARTNER, not a servant.

 It makes for a MUCH better, happier house, all the way around, in the long term.

(Ok, back to your noramlly scheduled program...lol...I'll get back to my normal blogs now, I still have to finish my moms journal at some point. A friend just had a blog about cleaning and it got my wheels turning)

Monday, May 16, 2011

Sick Sick SICK (EMDR counciling) and the shower incident

As I sit here wanting to write so much more than I can today, I am VERY aware of one very awkward human thing. We are WAY to prone to sickness. Whether it be in one way or another (HAHA:p) We sure have to spend a lot of time in...well...bed.
Ahhhh... the human condition.
Sleeping, getting over sickness. Going to bed, getting up, going to work in whatever ways we do, then DRAT! Going back to sleep. Again.
My daughter has told me SO many times that she thought sleeping was "such a waste of time!"(This was always right before bedtime between when she was not quite a teen (Around 9) to after.
But without sleep, we kind of become walking zombies.:p and not very nice ones at that:p
On days like these when I'm supposed to stay in bed to try to get better I wish desperately that I had a laptop. As I don't have a laptop I cling desperately to my "android" phone  even when I'm sick, typing on its tiny little keyboard, trying to keep up with the world, even when I'm in my pajamas. HA! You can't see me!
The problems always come when I try to make the screen bigger. Then I wreak all kinds of havoc. Missing posts, thinking I'm not pushing post and it does, having half-finished posts turn up and the "auto correct" (A program that’s supposed to be HELPFUL making your words easier to get right on screen but that I think may be a travesty of naughty schoolboys (in my opinion) with jobs making apps for droid phones and their users "easier to post”) SUDDENLY and without warning turns my word victim into vagina. Just WHO are these perverts at auto correct? And how do I explain what I just said online?:P (I finally went to Verizon and asked them to TURN THE CURS-ED THING OFF. The Verizon guy just started laughing when I told him about the vagina incident and told me to go to a certain site about Damn you autocorrect which I'm not going to put here, It'll make you blush. All I know is I don't want auto correct on MY phone. It makes me talk like a dirty old man: p Err...no thanks:p
As of right now I am sitting at the keyboard coughing like a banshee trying to gather my thoughts  together even though every cough seems to jumble them up even more in my head.:p
Last week I found out I have some weird bacterial sickness, as my temperature rose from 102.5 then went down to 101, then as the drugs kicked in, lying in a puddle of sweat with so much coughing that I threw my back out. (No, I won't draw you a picture:p ew;) Welcome to the world of I've fallen and I can't get up:p Or more like I've been laying on the bed for HOURS and I can't get up. Or...I just don't WANT to get up. Make me.:p
Anyway, I think I'm FINALLY getting better, but now my husband is sick, poor thing.
Especially glad I'm getting better because I am going to an EMDR councilor tomorrow. I am talking to you about it here because I am gathering that some of you that I write for here are abused or have been abused yourself. You may not know it, but in a way we are brothers and sisters. I wish it to be this way.
We are all on a journey and the only one ultimately who knows which way you need to go, is YOU. If you do, or don't it is up to you. But you can change whatever you path is at any time. I promise you no matter how many times you fall down and have to get back up, no matter HOW hard it is, as long as you get back up and KEEP MOVING in the direction you have to go, even if you have to crawl, even if you can barely see where it is you need to go, even if you feel that you can't do it anymore, if you just keep moving. God (Or whoever your higher power is) will MOVE you in the direction you were meant to go. As long as you keep putting one foot in front of the other. DON'T GIVE UP. I am rooting  for you!
This may sound strange, but when I started this process of writing this book, and this blog,(My huz actually helped set it up, he’s a genius) one thought came to me. I hadn't even thought much about writing, or blogging.
I was just doing my usual thing, getting ready for the day when something stopped me dead in my tracks as I was jumping in the shower. Something told me
"You will write a book called "Unbreakable"
"You will have to go through some form of hypnotism to get all the information out of your head"
There. That was it. I didn't even write it down...but all these other thoughts came and I had to stop and write them all down in between the shower. Made for a lot of wet sheets of paper with smeared writing, but I made sure I wrote it all down.:p
Ok, so here’s the deal. I kept wondering what it meant that I would have to be hypnotized, of all things. The only thing I remember of hypnotism was that every year at my high school for a while for a few years there was a guy who did it at an assembly. (Gathering of the whole school in a gym) He was amazing. He had us put our hands together and then tried to hypnotize some of us in the audience. I almost went under. The guys behind me were laughing SO hard because I couldn't get my hands apart. I had decided that NOOOOO! I didn't want to be hypnotized after all, but my hands, who were not cooperating, thought they were.p through sheer will I finally got them apart, and whew! My brief but short career as the funny girl for the boys behind me was over. My best friend Jennie even hypnotized me once. The weird thing is, I never closed my eyes. I could see her, but everything was wavy.
So what WAS this hypnotism stuff? I began to call around, to highly recommended psychologists here in the area, and ALL of them said "Hypnotism can lead to false memories. And that it happened WAY too often." Then they gave me a new term. Not one for Hypnotism, but for EMDR. It stands for Eye movement desensitization and reprocessing. Sounds kinda clinical huh? So what does it mean?
When someone goes through a horrible trauma, they have found that those people don't have normal rem (eye) sleep cycles when they sleep like other people do. Trauma is also saved in a different part of the brain then normal memories. When a person who has had traumatic experience talks about those memories, it’s like they are IN that moment. The feelings come back; the fears and anxieties can come back. when EMDR is used (It’s a machine that goes back and forth and the eyes follow it) the brain reprocesses it, little by little the memory is put in the RIGHT place in the brain because of this reprogramming, and when it’s finished, the person can talk about it, but not feel the pain of it anymore because the brain has put it in its proper place, in a different place in the brain, in the PAST.
It actually showed up in scans on the brain. They show before EMDR, and in a person who has post-traumatic stress syndrome, the brain is overly active. After EMDR, all that brain activity slows down so much that it actually shows on a scan. Here is a video that talks about it. It’s amazing. I think it was done by CBS ...VERY good story on EMDR HERE...if you are curious about this I HIGHLY recommend checking this video out.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zBtqWrs2-K0
They have used this on Vietnam Vets and it’s worked. They've used it on Post-Traumatic stress syndrome and it’s worked. They don't know why, but it does. Everyone I've talked to has said it’s amazing, including my old counselor from the college I went to years ago.
But there is a catch. As we do it, I may have night terrors, I may have old memories surface, I may have horrible dreams. I just know in my gut that it’s time to face this. This is EXACTLY what I need, even if it’s terrifying at times. I am strong. I have been strong before, I can be strong again. And THIS time, I am in a LOVING family with all the support I need.
Tomorrow I'm learning some self-soothing techniques that are supposed to help me when I have those problems come up. My counselor said I'll have to learn how to sooth the 10 year old me as things come up from when I was there abused at that age, to the 5 year old me as she comes up, the 16 year old me and so on. They may be yelling pretty loud and terrified, but as I am now I need to be the adult for "her". I can be the  guide there that never was when I was that age and the protector  there to let me know that there IS someone who cares. That I am here for that child-me NOW. I am the LOVING PARENT.
(Ok..thats a really complicated sentence..I hope it makes sense:p I may have to re- examine it when I’m not sick lol)
She says doing this is like cracking open a hard nut, and there will be a LOT inside. She said I may be a mess for a while and it gets worse before it gets better...but that she always seen it get better. And getting to the better is the important part. All the things that terrify me will be different somehow, as I work through it. I WANT to remember. I want all of these memories to be put DOWN, written down, and laid to rest, where they belong. In the PAST. I will share what I learn with you along the way, no matter how hard it is.
Besides. we are kin, you and I.

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

The Fart Couch

The Fart Couch


Ok, silly post time...I have been writing and WRITING on the 7 pages I've printed out that are my notes on whats left of my moms journal. I've written all over it. You haven't been in on it much yet, but you will be. I have been t hinking that by the time I'm done with the book I have to save some of it, (Keep you guessing so you'll go out and get the book) I want to donate some of the proceeds to this book to charity, especially to a charity dedicated to battered women.

But...I need another break. Its exhausting dealing with it. This has taken up so much of my life lately. But its ok, I can handle this.

Soooooo....Before I slay the dragon...kill the beast, dance the hoochie cootchie...lol (Maybe even do a little FIRE dance once I'm done with this monstrocity)...maybe I'll burn a COPY of the journal;p) I'm going to make the great escape. Again:p

I think my escape has always been humor. Whether or not anyone gets it but me as I sit laughing, sometimes all alone my thoughts make me laugh so hard that I um...how can I say this delicately...have to excuse myself to go to the bathroom.:p (Grin)

I was told years ago that I could be a comedian in a free class for women I went to called "Impact" where you were helped to find what your talents were. One woman there said  I could do stand up comedy. Personally,I think the pressure would be too much, Or I think I'd start giggling so hard at my own private jokes...on stage even that I might get funny looks instead.:p

Well...At least I can make fun of myself.:p

With that said, I was looking through my list of topics today and "The Fart Couch"popped out at me.

With all the serious stuff whirling around in my head this is a welcome escape. Even one as strange as this.

When my husband and I were first married we stayed in college housing. A  teeny tiny furnished appartment. The kitchen was so small (How small was it? lol) that if you opened the fridge, all traffic through the kitchen stopped, sometimes even screeched to a halt. There was no way through .We used to tease each other by hiding close to the fridge and opening the fridge fast. Open the freezer door fast  and you had an automatic head banger. Open the bottom and well...men beware;). It was like living in a box.

The worst thing there was the couch. It looked like it was straight out of the 60s (Or a horror movie)
It was this ugly brown color. Kinda the color of...poo.:P

The first time we sat on it it was as if the whole enviroment changed. The SMELL!
Were you born in a barn?' I said to Joe. HAHAHHAHAH!
That was the beginning of what we called "the fart couch". The smell was so bad.

I tried airing it out, washing the cushions and the covers,
BUT....
Anytime ANYONE sat on the thing, its like the air quality instantly changed, and you just wanted to run for cover.

I took to sitting on the ground. ANYWHERE but on the fart couch:;p.

Salesmen? Bring them IN to sit on the fart couch...(Good way to lose frineds and NOT influence people...lol) church people...I steered them clear, had them sit at the table, anywhere but there.

One day a couple nice people from my church came in.
I wasn't thinking...

They headed straight to the couch, AND SAT DOWN.

Immediately they looked at each other. I couldn't help it, I knew what they were thinking. (SBD...Silent but deadly?;)I was stiffling giggles...but I just couldn't get myself to tell them that it wasn't anyones fault that nobody wanted to be in each others company any more. The smell was too bad.:P

I don't think I ever saw them again.
I didn't blame them.:p

Saturday, May 7, 2011

Rowdy Artesian...Traveler Extrordanaire And Jezabel , My Cross Eyed Kitty





Have you ever had a pet that you just REALLY connected with?
I have had two. If the two had met, there would have been chaos.
You see, one of them is a cat (I'll tell you about her later) and the other is a hamster.
But if the lion and the lamb can lie down together, I suppose a cat and a hamster can too.  (I am grinning here at the image. )
I got Rowdy Artesan (RA RA  for short) when I was 13. From day 1, he was a traveler. Somehow after we bought him he got loose in our car and we had to tear apart the seat cushions to get him back. We looked everywhere and couldn't find him but could hear him hustling around, digging.

Finally we caught him.

When we found him he just sat up and looked at me with those little black eyes winking merrily, whiskers twitching as if to say..."Hey...I MEANT for you to find me".
My mom didn't like hamsters. One of the biggest kicks I would get when I was bored was holding my hamster behind my back, walking up behind my mom  and when she turned around I would thrust out my hands with RA RA In them and yell "SURPRISE"! Poor RA RA...he had no idea what to make of the screaming woman who was waving her hands around saying "GET THAT THING OUT OF HERE!
One time mom was asleep and I snuck up and put RA RA on her belly. She woke up and the poor hamster actually FLEW across the room...that stopped me pretty quick.

I had been giggling from another side of the room when a flying hamster suddenly came at me Poor thing.
When we went to Pennsylvania to visit relatives from Idaho, guess who I missed most?
That hamster.
When I was out of state I wrote about it all the time in my journal. I even drew a picture of him so I could look at it when I was lonely.
I was such a strange child. 
That hamster was different from any other hamster I ever had. When he wanted me to pick him up (Which was a lot) he would chew on his water bottle especially hard until I picked him up. Then he would sit on my bed with me, completely still.  I'd lay down to take a nap and he'd be sitting beside me. I would stroke his eyelids and little by little he would fall asleep.

Then I would fall asleep, the kid and the hamster, side by side. Best friends. 

Some kids had dogs, I had a hamster.
We had one of those hamster balls that you get to put them inside so they can run around the house.. At first when I put him in it he would run all over the house, literally bouncing off the walls  and spinning dizzily till he stopped and then he would run off in another direction, crashing into the walls again.(One day he actually bounced down the stairs and escaped because the ball opened up) After a while he got pretty good at it, and I would see him  deliriously running, head thrown back in ecstasy, totally spread out like a racehorse running for all he was worth. 

It made me laugh so hard.
One day he got loose and got behind the walls of our heater. (He was quite the escape artist.) I was so worried. He was gone for DAYS. I was in the shower one day when I heard a familiar sound. 

I could hear him in the WALLS. 

Under the shower, moving around the shower. I was frantic. I kept saying RA RA but I couldn't get to him! Would he ever get out? 

I missed my little buddy!
If I could have been inside his little hamster head I bet I would have heard  "JUST HOW in the HELL do I get out of here"??? (If hamsters could swear)
One day I was sitting in my bed and suddenly, beside the heater vent, my little friend popped out.
He looked stunned and looked at me weakly and if he could have said anything...I think it would have been "Hey... I did it...I found my way out!"
He just collapsed in my hand, he was SO exhausted. But he trusted me.
Another time when he got loose (he somehow would get  out of his cage, even though we put a book over the top) I couldn't find him all day. I went to sleep sad that I hadn't found my little friend. In the middle of the night, all of a sudden, I felt something fuzzy by my leg. Somehow during the night he had  gotten up into my bed, under the covers with me.
One of the times my dad got angry  at me he actually took the glass aquarium cage (It had wire mesh top...with a book on top) and smashed it on the ground. Then he took away my hamster, and was squeezing him so tight I thought he would kill him. I was sobbing, terrified of what he might do to him. I remember for hours afterword’s I searched for him. My father told me he was gone. I was SO afraid he had killed him. The strangest thing happened though. I went outside, just really sad, and I looked over at the garbage can in the garage, and he was just sitting there, on top of it. Who had put him there, or if they did, I don't know. But I was relieved.
If I'm remembering right my mom went out to a second hand store and got another aquarium.
 My sisters liked to torture him, especially Lillian, They would either pick him up and squeeze him until him eyes bulged, or they would throw him up in the air and catch him, or NOT and I would be screaming for them to stop.
I remember one specific time I was in the bathtub and Lillian came in, evil grin on her face, with my hamster, and proceeded to squeeze RA RA right in front of me until his eyes bulged so bad that one of them started to bleed. I was TERRIFIED and kept screaming for her to stop. It wasn't funny to me, at ALL. She finally gave the hamster back to me when she saw his eye was bleeding and I wiped off his eye with some water.
Strange for me to say, but that little hamster was my confidant. I would tell him everything.
One day, I was holding a very tired RA RA and his little whiskers stopped twitching.

He wasn't breathing.

I would blow on him and he would start breathing again. It scared me SO badly. I woke up that morning, and clicked my teeth at him...(he would actually click back...we has such a strange little human hamster connection)that day, he didn't click back. I went over to his cage and blew on him. 

He was gone.

 I spent the whole day sobbing. I missed my little friend.
Animals make the best friends. They're like Gods little messengers. Somehow the ones you love the most know JUST when you need them. 
They leave, and a part of you goes with them.

There are no hamster balls in heaven. (Well...maybe there are...who am I to say ?)  

Only if they can't be locked in .
But I suspect by now he has explored every inch.:p
He’s probably sneaking around under some angels robe.
The image of that in my head makes me grin.






Thursday, May 5, 2011

The Reluctant Writer

I have never thought of myself as much of a writer.
I have Journals where I would go for almost a year without writing a thing.

I am realizing how writing makes you slow down,and refect. How things that went by SO fast seem to slow down, and dissapate a little. Almost like taking an old VHS tape out(If anyone even knows what THOSE things are anymore?:p) and slowing it down to look at it...maybe it works better with DVD's I dunno.:p

How its like turning an item in your hand and looking at it from every angle. If you look close enough, you discover new things about yourself.

Writing helps you to reflect.on who you are. You begin to see why you do what you do, and  who  you really are,.  The good, the bad and the UGLY. And somehow going through it nice and slow makes it easier  to take a long hard look,

I usually do things at high speed, running a hundred miles a minute, barely catching my breath till I'm off again...conquiring the world:

I am realizing, taking it slow is GOOD for me.

I am ALMOST done writing my thoughts about my moms journal down. Maybe: I'll let you in on it;) Maybe:p (Ok, ok...I WILL:P Just every time I think I'm done,theres MORE.)

I'm just trying to piece it all together.

Just be patient with me as I crawl out of my shell.

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

A Note To You The Reader...

I so appriciate you, the reader, that you are reading my blog. I amazed at the traffic going through here. If you wouldn't mind sharing this with people, I would love that. I want to get the word out, and maybe help those who are in abusive situations know THEY ARE NOT ALONE.

There is a Universal need to be loved.

If your going through abuse, or have been through abuse, I hope that some of the things I write here helps you. You are one of the reasons I am writing this. The other reason is I need to analize what happened to me and work through it however I can. If it helps someone, I am just grateful for the chance I have to do it.

I wish I could look any one of you  ( that are going through abuse)squarely in the face and tell you its ok, that there is hope. But you HAVE to be proactive. This is your life and no one should tell you how to live it,(That goes for ANYONE...not just everyone living with abuse) or beat you into submission. If you get help and if you get out things CAN change. Its a HUGE step, but your life can  have meaning and you can know love (Even self love) if you give yourself the respect you deserve. You are the only person who can truly do that.

You may think "Well, your strong, I'm not".

 I did not feel strong at the time, (In fact, I felt terrified and completely worthless) but looking back, I see that I was stronger than I thought I was...In the end its all about ACTION. If you do not condone abuse and violence, If you have children...your children won't either. The same goes for the opposite. Would you want your beautiful children to be the abused? To be an abuser? You stay in an abusive home your child may grow up as one or the other because it is ALL THEY KNOW.

God, (Or whoever your higher power is) your loving father loves you and would never want one of his beautiful daughters (or sons) demeaned and cut down. He would want the light in your eyes to be bright,and your self esteme to be intact,not trampled on.

Therefore a new cycle starts. One that is up to YOU. One that BREAKS that cycle of violence. One that CHALLENGES the abuse. One that sais,I will not sit still, I will stand up, for me, for my children, and future generations.

I WILL NOT BE SILENCED!

I especially have a  special message for Mothers in abusive relationships...Get out while your children are young. I beg you. The scars your children will have will never heal if you don't, and they may become abusers themselves if you don't STOP the  cycle now. I know, its easy for me to say, I'm not in it, (Though I was) but your children are stuck in it. No matter how stuck you think you are, you AREN'T.

Even though I don't know you, I have a special place in my heart for you.

There are places you can go for help.

Here is one...http://www.thehotline.org/

PLEASE CALL, do SOMETHING. You are not alone! Get the help you need!

Monday, May 2, 2011

Eat, Drink And Be Merry..Or Don't:p (My parents wouldn't let us eat after 10 am or after 10 pm. Talk about rediculous! Get beaten for it? No PROBLEM!)

I've always said (Well at least for the last few months anyway...)that "Lifes like a roller coaster. Somedays you don't know whether to scream, or throw up... ( I am rather proud that I thought that one up.:p)Someone said a minute ago on facebook (Since I posted it there a bit ago that "Sometimes you throw your hands in the air and just enjoy the ride"! :) How true is THAT?

I have decided I am going to be like a sponge. I am going to absorb all the "water" out of my moms journal and let it flow through my fingers.  It may add weight and weigh me down sometimes, but in the end it disappates and I'm ok again. Heck, I may have to get the sponge wet over and over for a while, but thats the beauty of a sponge. No matter how much water you put into it, it always dissapates after a while. Thank God I'm a sponge.

My parents had a rule (One of many...imagine that?!;p)
If we weren't up before 10 am, we weren't allowed to eat breakfast. (What is THAT? I didn't know that I lived in a resteraunt?) My mom sais that with 7 people, it WAS like a resteraunt.Meals being served forever,dirty dishes, cold food, dirty table. She acts like she has no choice in the matter.
SHE DOES.

Here is what I do at my house...We have breakfast lunch and dinner whenever we want and if someone doesn't show up, Guess what? I PUT IT IN THE FRIDGE. The person who didn't show up can come and get it whenever they want, whatever TIME they want as they want it. Why does everything have to be so set in stone? How anal can a person be?

At my house everyone who eats there puts their dish they've eaten off of into the dishwasher. Did my mom have to make herself a martyr? I remember her complaining all the time about it, putting away food, getting out food. Doing the dishes .Why did she have to be the one to do all of it? Couldn't we just be allowed to get our own food? She didn't have to act like such a victim. SHE WASN'T.

A person can be PROACTIVE. She was never helpless. Yeah, its hard to get kids to help, but it would have worked better than making us starve. I see entrys about me being told not to eat. And then after she told me not to I would go to the fridge and try to sneak something, ANYTHING because I was starving. No child should have to starve.

This was not the only entry where I wasn't allowed to eat. I got punished once because I had talked to my sisters friend in church, supposably going in the middle of church class and interupting, talking to this friend of Lillians. I don't know that thats what even really happened.I don't remember even interupting her class. I think my sister was jealous that her friend showed any attention to me. I was starving for attention. You know...the GOOD kind.

I know that I started swearing...I had no other weapon, nobody was listening to what I said. They sure listened when I swore at them!.So Lillian and my mom went and told  my dad about it and he came up and started whaling on me, (After he""told me to be quiet". Riiiiiiiiiight mom, riiiight.. What, after he started hitting me?  When he had what she called "A tight grip" on me? There was no such thing as a tight grip, only punching hitting, backing me up against a wall. BOUNCING my head off the wall.

EVERYTHING with them was "tight grip".  Literally!  

Everything with me is that "I am violent, that "I hit with my fists" (Gee, who did I learn that from? My dad ALWAYS used his fists. Thats what would bloody my nose, EVERY TIME. his fists, he hit my nose, HARD, like it was a punching bag.)  What was my father doing??? politely backing me in a corner?I don't think so!

When he "Had a tight grip on me"  I fought back when he started beating me. This happened all the time, I was hoping that I would stop him from beating me and after a moment or two of desperation I would end up going limp and giving up any hope that I was going to get out of it, this time, or any time. )

Its like a dream when your running but your  going so slow your not going anywhere and your desperate to escape. Or like a movie...maybe "Rocky" If you've seen it...(Cmon..everybodys seen Rocky:p"Yo Adrian"!!lol ) where the fighter tries to fight, but realizes he's not winning and you see all the light go out of their eyes and they just give up. ) 

Sooo after all of this,I got grounded and on top of everything else, when I decided that I was going to go do things with my friends anyway becasue WHY in the HELL would I want to be home???I got beaten up when I was home.

Not only did I get beaten up for talking to my sisters friend by my father, I ended up having my lunch money taken away not for not just 1 week, but for 2 for leaving without permission. All because I talked to Lillians friend.. (At the time, the only friends I had were in Jr high, so I couldn't even BEG food off of anybody. This was my Sophmore year in high school.)
My response to them was classic Heidi...."I need to lose weight anyway.":p (These days health and welfare would have taken me away if they would have gotten wind of something like that!)

.My mom tries to make all of this ridiculous behavior sound rational (I'm thinking especially because she got it on paper for my councilor) But I am writing this and the more I look through the journal, the crazier it sounds.

All of us would sneak food, when we could get away with it. All of us kids were so desperate that we would go downstairs and sneak food from her "food storage" .Canned hams, beef stew, peaches, whatever we could get out hands on. We were hungry! Why should we have been denied food??And not only was 10 the cut off time for eating every morning, but after 10 at night nobody would be allowed get anything to eat either.

I almost lost my life over trying to get spagetti out of the fridge because I was hungry.

That is UNREAL.

And yet the excuses keep coming.

I never knew till recently my sisters used to sneak food from storage,(My sister Lillian loved the canned hams:p) but I think we were kept so at odds against each other that we would have told on each other.

When I left home I told myself that I would never starve again...

Years later I was at a friends moms house for her wedding and my friend told me that I couldn't eat anything out of her moms fridge. There was nowhere to get food,the food places were far away,and I didn't have a car. It was TORTURE. I was SO hungry. I think my friend was SO preoccupied by her wedding that she just didn't think about how her friend needed to eat.

I had flown a LONG way and spent a LOT of money to get to her wedding. but...I starved.
I remember eating stale chips I had gotten from a store we stopped at. Ug...I still am not that much into chips anymore.:p

When we drove somewhere I grabbed whatever I could with the money I had. We had stopped at a store to get her fingernail polish for the wedding and it wasn't even a food place. Thats where I got the stale chips. (actually, I can't remember , I think my friend may have given t hem to  me,now that I think about it. We both were chomping on them that night.  But I was there for more than a day.) At her reception I finally ate real food. I remember greedily staring at all the food she had at her wedding party when they were getting it ready. I finally asked if I could have some and someone told me yes, I could have 1. Later when we were allowed to have more of the food I'm sure I ate a ton. Maybe I should have stuck some food in the pocket of my coat...:p I still am friends with that person. I know her and love her, I always will, I just think she was preoccupied and didn't realize.

WIth that said I can relate to a favorite character of mine in a book:p
I know exactly what Scarlett O'Hara means when she said "I'll never go hungry again!:p lol (Recognize that quote? I LOVE " Gone With The Wind". What a great book:)

When people come to my house, I tell people about being at my friends moms house and how I starved. I tell them about my family and how my parents wouldn't let me eat after 10 and my promise to myself that I'll never go hungry again. That I'll never let anyone who sets foot in my house go hungry,  I promised myself  I would NEVER make anyone go through that. I make sure that they know that any time they are hungry that anything inside or outside the fridge is fair game. They can eat whatever they want. I make sure when they come to visit that I have everything made up and put in lil serving bowls to stick in the microwave so they don't have to worry about eating anything that I'm saving, because in my  house we don't ration food , we EAT it.

DUH!.

I Swear.

Taking another hiatis for just a sec...:p

Ever since I've been working on this book, I've been swearing more. I think all this old  abuse crap thats been dredged up has brought some of the old me to the forefront. I thought I had it handled and that I had the swearing down to a bare minimum. Its a good thing, cause I go to church.:P

I have had some weird things happen in church. My phone went off one time playing Muse's "Absolution" during Sacrament. I guess its kind of fitting.(lol)  But not everyone has my taste in music. HAHA!

Another time "Wish You Were here" (By Pink Floyd) went off in church. That could also be fitting. HA!

But lately, the stream of swear words have been coming out of my mouth with more and more frequency

Again, those of you who have been reading my blogs know that when I'm angry, I swear like a sailor.
Well the ships sinking cause I'm not angry and I'm swearing anyway. (lol)  Its not me, not normally anyway.

When I was younger I sang at an old folks home.
I had just gotten into a song I thought would be sweet for Seniors called "The Wind Beneath My Wings"
Some lil old lady with Alzeimers kept yelling "SHUT UP'! When I was done I finally did..:p

Another time in an old folks home there was a choir with one of my sisters in a choir singing.
They started singing and a lil old lady in a wheel chair kept screaming "HOLY SH#T!! (They finally wheeled her out...Everybody was stiffling giggles)
Maybe THAT would be more appropriate for church. (Oh...I am BAD today!)

I had better watch out or I may end up a lil ol lady in a wheel chair screaming "HOLY SH#T"! as they wheel me out the door just to shut me up.

HA!