As I sat watching a television show last night something interesting was said.
"Men are the rock. They are strong, solid, capable of withstanding great weight and hardship. Women are fluid like water. Always changing and adapting."
After an altercation this morning with a man it dawned on me.
We ARE water. We move sometimes swiftly and chaotically to achieve our goals. Sometimes we appear to be standing still, but beneath our surface tides are rolling and slowly changing the very environment around us.
So, darling, you be the rock. But understand this- you are but one rock beneath tepid waters. And I am the river slowly molding, eroding and moving you to bend to my will.
Now go fuck yourself.
Tuesday, December 9, 2014
Tuesday, November 18, 2014
No More Bullshit.
Times have changed so much in the last fifty years. Women are being taught that they are to be regarded as equals from an early age. They are taught what abuse is. How they are worth more then to allow someone to treat them badly. And every time you see photos of abuse, it is always worse case scenarios. What they are not taught is that there are many forms of abuse. That someone can make you feel afraid, or worthless without ever having to lay their hands on you.
This is what they are neglecting to tell our daughters. Keep in mind throughout this,....I am not what you would call a "feminist"...but more of a "survivor".
I filed for a restraining order against my daughter's father in the beginning of this month. For privacy purposes, let's call him J. In June of this year, I had to call the police and have them escort me to J's home to retrieve my daughter who was in his possession. She is six. He had drank himself stupid, and passed out with my six year old child after scaring the shit out of her by throwing everything off of her dresser, and slandering me to her.
I was with him, in a domestically abusive relationship, for four years. I have been separated from him, for four years. This means that for eight years of my life, that I will never get back, I have been abused in one form or another. He has not laid a hand on me since our split in 2010, but he has found ways of manipulating, and guilting and outright verbally, and emotionally abusing me for EIGHT YEARS. I was ready for it to stop after the incident with my child. I provided proof to the Police Department of obsessiveness, harassment, and verbal abuse.
My request was denied until a Court Hearing. If this does not go through, what that tells me (and my daughter) is that unless a person is physically assaulting you currently, or stalking your every move,...that they are not abusive. My eleven-year-old daughter remembers everything. And I do mean everything. Every foul word ever muttered under his breath, every time his hands found themselves clasped around my neck, and every single time he non-nonchalantly followed me around the house with the barrel of his shotgun daring me to find out whether it was loaded or not. This makes me ill. I could have very easily called my daughter into court, had her testify and drudge up old memories she's trying so hard to forget....but why would I force my beautiful damaged child to relive moments that I, myself, am also trying so hard to forget?
My daughter learned her coping skills from her mother at far too early an age. How to force things "under the rug" and put a smile on her face no matter what. How to not feel. For this reason I failed her.
My youngest, doesn't remember living with her father, and as best I can I shelter her from the feuds. This isn't working anymore. She is smart, and alert and far too opinionated for a little girl. "Daddy can come see me when he learns to follow the rules. Everyone has to follow rules mom."
She hasn't seen her father since June because Daddy wont follow the rules. And her lack of caring for him astounds me. She occasionally brings him up when a song comes on the radio that she had listened to with him.
"Do you miss your Daddy?"
"Yeah a little bit."
"Would you like to talk to him?"
"Maybe tomorrow."
Tomorrow. It's always "tomorrow" and yet tomorrow never comes.
She knows how he speaks to me, of me. And it angers her. My biggest fear is her getting to an age when she attempts to speak up to her father about it, gets angry, aggressive. And he does the same thing to her that he has done to me.
J pays child support. He works, and he used to take her every other weekend. Ever since that Sunday night in June, he doesn't push the issue with her. What does a father have to do exactly to make a small child stop caring about him, but also for him to give up so quickly? My daughter wont really talk about it,...and this worries me. I raised no victims. I refuse to allow them to be, and in order to portray this to them, I must begin by showing my daughters that through my struggles...through the name calling, the slapping, hitting, kicking, dragging, slandering and manipulation....that Mom came out on the otherside stronger then ever. And Family Law courts be damned,.....I AM NO VICTIM!!
This is what they are neglecting to tell our daughters. Keep in mind throughout this,....I am not what you would call a "feminist"...but more of a "survivor".
I filed for a restraining order against my daughter's father in the beginning of this month. For privacy purposes, let's call him J. In June of this year, I had to call the police and have them escort me to J's home to retrieve my daughter who was in his possession. She is six. He had drank himself stupid, and passed out with my six year old child after scaring the shit out of her by throwing everything off of her dresser, and slandering me to her.
I was with him, in a domestically abusive relationship, for four years. I have been separated from him, for four years. This means that for eight years of my life, that I will never get back, I have been abused in one form or another. He has not laid a hand on me since our split in 2010, but he has found ways of manipulating, and guilting and outright verbally, and emotionally abusing me for EIGHT YEARS. I was ready for it to stop after the incident with my child. I provided proof to the Police Department of obsessiveness, harassment, and verbal abuse.
My request was denied until a Court Hearing. If this does not go through, what that tells me (and my daughter) is that unless a person is physically assaulting you currently, or stalking your every move,...that they are not abusive. My eleven-year-old daughter remembers everything. And I do mean everything. Every foul word ever muttered under his breath, every time his hands found themselves clasped around my neck, and every single time he non-nonchalantly followed me around the house with the barrel of his shotgun daring me to find out whether it was loaded or not. This makes me ill. I could have very easily called my daughter into court, had her testify and drudge up old memories she's trying so hard to forget....but why would I force my beautiful damaged child to relive moments that I, myself, am also trying so hard to forget?
My daughter learned her coping skills from her mother at far too early an age. How to force things "under the rug" and put a smile on her face no matter what. How to not feel. For this reason I failed her.
My youngest, doesn't remember living with her father, and as best I can I shelter her from the feuds. This isn't working anymore. She is smart, and alert and far too opinionated for a little girl. "Daddy can come see me when he learns to follow the rules. Everyone has to follow rules mom."
She hasn't seen her father since June because Daddy wont follow the rules. And her lack of caring for him astounds me. She occasionally brings him up when a song comes on the radio that she had listened to with him.
"Do you miss your Daddy?"
"Yeah a little bit."
"Would you like to talk to him?"
"Maybe tomorrow."
Tomorrow. It's always "tomorrow" and yet tomorrow never comes.
She knows how he speaks to me, of me. And it angers her. My biggest fear is her getting to an age when she attempts to speak up to her father about it, gets angry, aggressive. And he does the same thing to her that he has done to me.
J pays child support. He works, and he used to take her every other weekend. Ever since that Sunday night in June, he doesn't push the issue with her. What does a father have to do exactly to make a small child stop caring about him, but also for him to give up so quickly? My daughter wont really talk about it,...and this worries me. I raised no victims. I refuse to allow them to be, and in order to portray this to them, I must begin by showing my daughters that through my struggles...through the name calling, the slapping, hitting, kicking, dragging, slandering and manipulation....that Mom came out on the otherside stronger then ever. And Family Law courts be damned,.....I AM NO VICTIM!!
Saturday, November 30, 2013
Passions Rising
I was asked to become passionate about something yesterday. "Anything" I was told. "Write a novel, take more photos, whatever!" At a very weak moment in my life, when all hell seems to be spiraling slowly out of my control, and I've yet to hit the eye of the storm, I've been asked to find passion.
So here is some passion for all of you....
My daughter is about to turn ten. She has the same mental illness as her mother, and everyday it shows a little more. I am struggling to maintain a connection with her, but either one or the other of us severs this link on any given day, and fire rains from the skies in an apocalyptic type storm that lasts for days, sometimes weeks of "Oh my god what are you staring at, and what do you want from me???" She's failing school, which makes me feel like a bigger failure as a mother because I was never a bad student until I got into middle school and made the personal choice to become one during a series of very poor life events, and I fear she is doing the same. She's becoming hormonal, and pre-teeney and all around, some days, unbearable. How do you say out loud without being crippled by guilt, "Hey, there are just some days when I can't stand my own kid!" (Even though, realistically you are fully aware that every parent has to have either gone through this or will go through this at some point during their kids' lives.)
My other child has severe hyperactivity and JIA. You might be inclined to think "Oh, poor kid", but no. The girl's ADHD causes her pain tolerance to be off the charts, so she's constantly on the go, and her mouth never stops. Sometimes, I just want to stick her in an empty room with bare walls so she can talk to her own echo for a few hours and make herself insane. And then more guilt for having such thoughts....
My seizures are worse now then they were due to recent flare-ups of my own RA, poly cystic ovaries, and lack of sleep because of my extremely high levels of anxiety. I have been in a permanent state of depression for sometime now that I am only able to suppress for short periods at a time when some outside force sucks me into temporary mania. Or when I am able to (unhealthily) "piggyback" myself onto the good feelings of others and ride those until they come crashing back down again taking me with them. All sending me spiraling into a gaping pit of epilepsy.
My relationships with others are suffering because of all of this. My children have "no home training" (or so it would appear) my epilepsy and depression and pain make me anti-social, and me being so tuned-in to others around me make me a generalized sad-sack.
Where is my passion? My passion is in the rage I feel for having no money. The frustration I feel for my kids. The knot in my stomach for every seizure I have. The feeling of wanting to choke someone out everytime they ask me a stupid fucking question like, "Where's your passion?"
I want for my family, for my friends. Yes I could combat all of this and take on the fucking world.....but I'm no Lance Armstrong, and I don't "do" long-term as far as hobbies are concerned. Yes I have been a writer, a photographer, a lyricist, a vocalist, a house-mom, a culinary artist, and many others!! Because I have had many interests over my 25 years of life. When my fucking "passion" strikes,....I'll take it for what it is.....but when it's gone,.....appreciate it for what it was,...what it always has been. Fleeting. I'll never be anything more than flighty, flaky, and unwavering. Someday I'll find something else to be fucking "PASSIONATE" about.....but know this going in.....IT WONT FUCKING LAST!!
Until then.....you shouldn't ask questions you don't really want to know the answer to....
So here is some passion for all of you....
My daughter is about to turn ten. She has the same mental illness as her mother, and everyday it shows a little more. I am struggling to maintain a connection with her, but either one or the other of us severs this link on any given day, and fire rains from the skies in an apocalyptic type storm that lasts for days, sometimes weeks of "Oh my god what are you staring at, and what do you want from me???" She's failing school, which makes me feel like a bigger failure as a mother because I was never a bad student until I got into middle school and made the personal choice to become one during a series of very poor life events, and I fear she is doing the same. She's becoming hormonal, and pre-teeney and all around, some days, unbearable. How do you say out loud without being crippled by guilt, "Hey, there are just some days when I can't stand my own kid!" (Even though, realistically you are fully aware that every parent has to have either gone through this or will go through this at some point during their kids' lives.)
My other child has severe hyperactivity and JIA. You might be inclined to think "Oh, poor kid", but no. The girl's ADHD causes her pain tolerance to be off the charts, so she's constantly on the go, and her mouth never stops. Sometimes, I just want to stick her in an empty room with bare walls so she can talk to her own echo for a few hours and make herself insane. And then more guilt for having such thoughts....
My seizures are worse now then they were due to recent flare-ups of my own RA, poly cystic ovaries, and lack of sleep because of my extremely high levels of anxiety. I have been in a permanent state of depression for sometime now that I am only able to suppress for short periods at a time when some outside force sucks me into temporary mania. Or when I am able to (unhealthily) "piggyback" myself onto the good feelings of others and ride those until they come crashing back down again taking me with them. All sending me spiraling into a gaping pit of epilepsy.
My relationships with others are suffering because of all of this. My children have "no home training" (or so it would appear) my epilepsy and depression and pain make me anti-social, and me being so tuned-in to others around me make me a generalized sad-sack.
Where is my passion? My passion is in the rage I feel for having no money. The frustration I feel for my kids. The knot in my stomach for every seizure I have. The feeling of wanting to choke someone out everytime they ask me a stupid fucking question like, "Where's your passion?"
I want for my family, for my friends. Yes I could combat all of this and take on the fucking world.....but I'm no Lance Armstrong, and I don't "do" long-term as far as hobbies are concerned. Yes I have been a writer, a photographer, a lyricist, a vocalist, a house-mom, a culinary artist, and many others!! Because I have had many interests over my 25 years of life. When my fucking "passion" strikes,....I'll take it for what it is.....but when it's gone,.....appreciate it for what it was,...what it always has been. Fleeting. I'll never be anything more than flighty, flaky, and unwavering. Someday I'll find something else to be fucking "PASSIONATE" about.....but know this going in.....IT WONT FUCKING LAST!!
Until then.....you shouldn't ask questions you don't really want to know the answer to....
Sunday, January 13, 2013
Watching the aging process...
If I never do anything promising in my entire life it would be that I will not die in front of a T.V. or computer screen. I refuse to do so. I hope that I go in some sort of exciting way. Carefree and screaming in joy, adrenaline and ecstasy. I don't want people to remember me in such a way that I was boring and lifeless. I feel as though I may be experiencing my mid-life crisis a little early. Every few years,...or maybe it's months,...I go through a period where I realize I hate myself, I hate my life...and I want to do an entire over-haul and change myself. The problem being, that ever since these feelings started (maybe around age fourteen or so) I have yet to change a whole hell of a lot about myself aside from my sense of style which lately consists of t-shirt, jeans and tennis shoes. Pretty lame for a twenty-five-year-old with a halfway decent figure,...(I'd like to think so considering I've had two kids!) And I'm not saying this out of vanity, I'm saying this, because I can look in the mirror, and unlike women my age who are trying desperately to recapture their slipping youth, or the one's who have long since given up and don't wear make-up at all,....I try to adjust or re-adjust for my age. My eyes are changing now. I am beginning to show the signs of life. The lines in the corners of my eyes that show that I've spent many nights up late laughing those low belly laughs with friends, so loud and long that we'd forgotten why we were laughing to begin with. The crease between my brows that remains even when I don't furrow my brows that my father warned me about so much, that shows how much time I spent worrying. (That by the way runs much deeper then my laugh lines.) Worrying about grades at first, friends and boys,....then later about kids and money, rent and men. The dark circles around my eyes bring back memories of sleepless nights up with my youngest child when she just refused to sleep, and the days I still battle when I just...want....sleep! I look at my body, and I don't see a seventeen year old body any longer, and I'm proud of that fact, because I didn't like my seventeen year old body any how. I have stretchmarks, and my belly sags, my boobs aren't where they're suppose to be, and my thighs are twice the size I remember them being, but I'm strangely okay with that. I've pipe dreamed with friends about plastic surgeries, but realistically,...I could think of a million other things I could do with a few grand before cutting up the parts of my body I've become accustomed to over the years. Twenty five really isn't that old, but it isn't seventeen either, and it isn't twenty. My mind works in different ways than it once did. I remember looking in the mirror at fourteen and thinking "Who are you?" It's all part of having a mental disorder. I got used to the young girl looking back at me. She matured a little, and the pudge fell off, but now there's this....well....WOMAN,....staring back at me and I find myself once again with a new body, and a new face looking in the mirror asking her, "Who the hell are you?" And sometimes she smiles, or makes a stupid face while she's putting on her make up or doing her hair and I see freckles popping through, and there's a glimpse of the kid in there, but for the most part, the woman has covered her up pretty well. She's aged her, smudged her, life has taken it's toll on her. So I find myself,....wondering where life will take me from here. Ten years, twenty,....or if I'll make it that far. And how little I've accomplished in the seven years of my adult life. (Nine if you consider the fact I've been a mother since I was sixteen) I've had aspirations, dreams, motivations,....and yet to get up and do it. When will I feel the want? The drive? When will enough be enough? Maybe tomorrow.....
Thursday, January 3, 2013
Political, Religious and Other..Views By Kiera. The End.
Since a vast majority of my friends are persistent on posting their opinions,...no...not just opinions... But most of all FORCING their views on so-called loved ones, and demanding that others see their point of view otherwise they are "just ignorant"... I want to share some of mine. Just to make my standpoint clear so there is no confusion, and no more bitterness. Political, religious, etc... Note that my views are subject to change as I grow and mature... I AM twenty five years old, but I am not naive. Nor am I easily swayed, nor am I stupid. May I add- this is to wean out those who are on my "friends list" for the intended purpose of catching up with my life, socially interacting with me etc,... and those who are only online to get their "troll fix". And in case anyone isn't aware- correcting others, being morally, politically or religiously offended... It is actually an addiction. You begin going out looking for groups who oppose the things you believe in for the purpose of being outraged. One source found here. Anyone who attacks me for my beliefs- will be I un-friending. And THAT is the purpose of this.
1. Guns. This country is in an uproar over gun laws. If not guns, it would be other weapons. We have had weapons since man first started walking the earth. In the beginning, it was for hunting and protection against wild animals. Now...we have become the wild animal. And we need protection from those of us that can't control our primal instinct. And yes, there are those who are born with the inability to control it. I would feel safer myself in a home with a gun. I myself, know how to clean, load and shoot a firearm. I am proud of this fact. I am also proud of the fact that I am a huge promoter of peace. I would never resort to using a weapon unless my life was threatened, or the world came to a state that it was required to hunt for food. Period.
2. Religion. "Religion is like a penis. It's nice to have one, its good to be proud of it. Please don't take it out in public and waive it around and please don't shove it down my throat." Blatantly said. Most people I know are aware of the fact now that I, myself, am not a Christian. I do NOT, however, put people down who are. Nor do I mock the Christian faith. Do I question it? Yes. Do I have debates with intelligent Christian people? Yes. I would never, never, NEVER disrespect someone else's religion. I am always respectful to those who practice differently than I do, and to those who don't practice faith at all. When led in prayer before dinner, I respectfully bow my head. During the pledge of allegiance I RECITE. I am, however, tired of Jesus posts of Facebook. Clicking "like" on a post will not save your soul!! Likewise, ignoring it will not condemn you to hell. Saying "Praying for so-and-so" on your status does not count as a prayer. What this literally translates to is; "Look what a good Christian I am! I'm praying!" IF YOU WANT TO PRAY FOR SOMEONE GET ON YOUR KNEES AND PRAY! A candle light vigil is enduring the frigid air on your face and embracing loved ones while mourning a loss within a group of fellow mourners. Not sharing a photo.
3. Abortion- leaving this one be simply for the fact that my opinion varies depending on the situation. There are situations when women are simply being selfish, and situations when it simply calls for it-period.
4. Gay marriage- love knows no gender. Maybe marriage is a biblical term. I agree. Call it something else. Call it a unity. But let gays have it. Why is there still a fight over this? Oh yes... People are afraid of things that scare them and the amount of homophobes in the world is steadily growing. Not every gay man who approaches you, gentlemen, is hitting on you! You aren't all that awesome and every man (including gay men) have a "type" they are attracted to. You may not be it, get over yourself. Women don't seem to be AS threatened (in my experience) but the same applies ladies! As a bisexual female, I can say that if I am bs'ing with you or come off as flirty- I'm probably just having fun, and not actually hitting on you. If I think you're attractive, I'll let you know. Acknowledging an attractive person, however and saying "I want you NOW" are also not the same. Other than that- let same sex couples love each other. It's love. Who cares?
5. Generalized politics- shut up! Not every single person on Facebook NEEDS to hear your opinion on the president, the impending elections, props, or whatever. Especially more than once! And even if you spam your wall with feeds, chances are, it won't change the opinions of others. The only reason you're doing it at that point is to fire somebody up. It's immature, it's stupid, and no one is impressed that you borrowed a quote from a senator to make yourself sound intelligent. What's worse is you either misspelled it or made yourself look really bad and misunderstood it.
6. "Trash talking"- "My day would've been great if SOMEBODY wouldn't have messed it up by calling. SHE knows who SHE is" Okay, for one- if you are going to follow that up with "Call me" when someone asks "what's wrong?" Don't post it on Facebook because you were looking for attention and sympathy, otherwise....say who you had a problem with. If you don't- SHE either is on your friend's list and you're too chicken to call her out,...or someone she knows is. You are talking crap without talking crap. You are a coward, and shouldn't be spreading your drama disease online anyway. I understand the whole "It's my facebook I'll post what I want" But I can guarantee that girl you called to talk to about it- is probably sick of it too regardless of how much she pretends with her, "Nu uh girl I would've whooped her ass!" ...No you wouldn't have....you don't even have the guts to tell your friend on the other line to shut up already because we are all sick of hearing it...unless of course she is just as into the dramatic fix as the other one in which case,...well they should both go back to High School.
7. "Click to send $1 for this baby with cancer." - By the time that photo has been shared 100 times, it's done. And I'm telling you now, Mark Zuckerburg is NOT paying for all these dying kids. Clicking "Like" or "Share" is not going to save children with cancer, nor would it stop Kony, or Save Katrina Victims, or Keep your Grandma from dying, or help you meet your true love. Now what sharing photos CAN do? It CAN get you a few laughs, or share a nice sentimental or motivational quote. Or see a news video. But as for the rest? It's just spam people.
Okay,....I'm getting off my soapbox now. I'm normally not one to engage like this, but the negativity is grinding at me, and I don't have the option to un-friend because a lot of this stuff is coming from people that I love. But I will. So tell me if you don't like it, tell me if you do. I can take you or leave you at this point. It's time to wean out the bad and keep the good. I can handle a healthy debate.
Just something to think about the next time you start to click that "Share" button on that "oh-so-awesome jesus" or "I live for Romney" or "Guns are killing us" post. Think about what the others on you page believe, and what will others think of you, if your entire news feed is covered in other people's pictures, and nothing to do with your own life.
Thank you,
Kiera
1. Guns. This country is in an uproar over gun laws. If not guns, it would be other weapons. We have had weapons since man first started walking the earth. In the beginning, it was for hunting and protection against wild animals. Now...we have become the wild animal. And we need protection from those of us that can't control our primal instinct. And yes, there are those who are born with the inability to control it. I would feel safer myself in a home with a gun. I myself, know how to clean, load and shoot a firearm. I am proud of this fact. I am also proud of the fact that I am a huge promoter of peace. I would never resort to using a weapon unless my life was threatened, or the world came to a state that it was required to hunt for food. Period.
2. Religion. "Religion is like a penis. It's nice to have one, its good to be proud of it. Please don't take it out in public and waive it around and please don't shove it down my throat." Blatantly said. Most people I know are aware of the fact now that I, myself, am not a Christian. I do NOT, however, put people down who are. Nor do I mock the Christian faith. Do I question it? Yes. Do I have debates with intelligent Christian people? Yes. I would never, never, NEVER disrespect someone else's religion. I am always respectful to those who practice differently than I do, and to those who don't practice faith at all. When led in prayer before dinner, I respectfully bow my head. During the pledge of allegiance I RECITE. I am, however, tired of Jesus posts of Facebook. Clicking "like" on a post will not save your soul!! Likewise, ignoring it will not condemn you to hell. Saying "Praying for so-and-so" on your status does not count as a prayer. What this literally translates to is; "Look what a good Christian I am! I'm praying!" IF YOU WANT TO PRAY FOR SOMEONE GET ON YOUR KNEES AND PRAY! A candle light vigil is enduring the frigid air on your face and embracing loved ones while mourning a loss within a group of fellow mourners. Not sharing a photo.
3. Abortion- leaving this one be simply for the fact that my opinion varies depending on the situation. There are situations when women are simply being selfish, and situations when it simply calls for it-period.
4. Gay marriage- love knows no gender. Maybe marriage is a biblical term. I agree. Call it something else. Call it a unity. But let gays have it. Why is there still a fight over this? Oh yes... People are afraid of things that scare them and the amount of homophobes in the world is steadily growing. Not every gay man who approaches you, gentlemen, is hitting on you! You aren't all that awesome and every man (including gay men) have a "type" they are attracted to. You may not be it, get over yourself. Women don't seem to be AS threatened (in my experience) but the same applies ladies! As a bisexual female, I can say that if I am bs'ing with you or come off as flirty- I'm probably just having fun, and not actually hitting on you. If I think you're attractive, I'll let you know. Acknowledging an attractive person, however and saying "I want you NOW" are also not the same. Other than that- let same sex couples love each other. It's love. Who cares?
5. Generalized politics- shut up! Not every single person on Facebook NEEDS to hear your opinion on the president, the impending elections, props, or whatever. Especially more than once! And even if you spam your wall with feeds, chances are, it won't change the opinions of others. The only reason you're doing it at that point is to fire somebody up. It's immature, it's stupid, and no one is impressed that you borrowed a quote from a senator to make yourself sound intelligent. What's worse is you either misspelled it or made yourself look really bad and misunderstood it.
6. "Trash talking"- "My day would've been great if SOMEBODY wouldn't have messed it up by calling. SHE knows who SHE is" Okay, for one- if you are going to follow that up with "Call me" when someone asks "what's wrong?" Don't post it on Facebook because you were looking for attention and sympathy, otherwise....say who you had a problem with. If you don't- SHE either is on your friend's list and you're too chicken to call her out,...or someone she knows is. You are talking crap without talking crap. You are a coward, and shouldn't be spreading your drama disease online anyway. I understand the whole "It's my facebook I'll post what I want" But I can guarantee that girl you called to talk to about it- is probably sick of it too regardless of how much she pretends with her, "Nu uh girl I would've whooped her ass!" ...No you wouldn't have....you don't even have the guts to tell your friend on the other line to shut up already because we are all sick of hearing it...unless of course she is just as into the dramatic fix as the other one in which case,...well they should both go back to High School.
7. "Click to send $1 for this baby with cancer." - By the time that photo has been shared 100 times, it's done. And I'm telling you now, Mark Zuckerburg is NOT paying for all these dying kids. Clicking "Like" or "Share" is not going to save children with cancer, nor would it stop Kony, or Save Katrina Victims, or Keep your Grandma from dying, or help you meet your true love. Now what sharing photos CAN do? It CAN get you a few laughs, or share a nice sentimental or motivational quote. Or see a news video. But as for the rest? It's just spam people.
Okay,....I'm getting off my soapbox now. I'm normally not one to engage like this, but the negativity is grinding at me, and I don't have the option to un-friend because a lot of this stuff is coming from people that I love. But I will. So tell me if you don't like it, tell me if you do. I can take you or leave you at this point. It's time to wean out the bad and keep the good. I can handle a healthy debate.
Just something to think about the next time you start to click that "Share" button on that "oh-so-awesome jesus" or "I live for Romney" or "Guns are killing us" post. Think about what the others on you page believe, and what will others think of you, if your entire news feed is covered in other people's pictures, and nothing to do with your own life.
Thank you,
Kiera
Monday, September 24, 2012
Beatrice Fay Brown Palmer
Yesterday, my Grandma Bea passed away. The notion hit me like a sucker punch to the gut. She and I had discussed many times both in person, and over the phone that this would happen. She spoke of death like she wasn't afraid. That it would come to her as a peaceful slumber. Or at least she hoped it would. She wanted to go to sleep, and simply not wake up. My Grandmother is one of the few who passed exactly the way she wanted it. Although I had lost touch with her over the last five years or so, my Grandmother was losing touch as well. So this was a painful relief. Not for me of course, but this is what we are suppose to be telling ourselves to make her moving on less painful.
After the initial shock of being told the news....the gut wrenching, "wind-knocked-out-of-you", falling on the ground to your knees (literally), feeling of pure helplessness, guilt, and shame. Yes guilt and shame. We all felt it. Anyone who said otherwise are liars. Whether she was your round the clock babysitter, you spoke down to her because her mind was going, or snickered because her hearing was bad and everytime you said something she would smile because she had no clue what you were saying.....the moment after grief came absolute guilt. It's natural. You never feel that REALLY until after someone's passing. I did. I felt for her the last time I was up there, although I made no real attempt to connect. I do feel the stab of guilt, as I should....as should we all. But in reality, I don't think Grandma really cared. She had her babies, her family, and her house. She moaned and groaned a lot, as old women tend to do,....but she had most of what she wanted.
For those of you who don't already know- I'm taking the opportunity to share this now, as I see no real sense in hiding this any longer. I feel no shame in it, just wanted to avoid conflict;
I am not a Christian.
So after the sudden punch had passed of feeling miserable, I remembered Grandma's talks with me, and her telling me that she didn't want her "babies to hurt" over her passing. So yesterday evening, as I sat, half laying, in a daze on the couch, I began to imagine the after life for my Grandmother.
She was part Indian, and loved to brag about it. I imagined her journey into the Nightlands to comfort myself. A peaceful, effortless descent that brought a tear to my eye. But as she came to the open plains of the place of rest, she didn't enter.
I couldn't get past this part of my fantasy. I began to bother me a bit.
Then it dawned on me. I am not a Christian, but my Grandmother was. A devout one at that. She wasn't in the Nightlands. Or the Summerlands, or the Underworld, the Resting Grounds or otherwise. Grandma Bea was nestled snuggly and firmly in the hands of heaven.
And having known what I did about heaven, and what I did about the things Grandma and I had talked about, I envisioned her heaven. And cried. I know now where she is. And she is happy.
Grandma is on a porch surrounded by the wet red clay in the Oklahoma sunset. A 27 year old rendering of herself (because this is the age she had always said she would be happiest, and would go back to given the chance) is sitting on a rocking bench on a porch with her daddy. They're drinking Pepsi, and she's catching him up on all the family gossip, telling him about her newest babies, explaining what Facebook is, and enjoying all the company he has to offer. Surrounded by sweetly scented purple lavender......
Normally at a moment like this,.....people say, "Rest in peace so and so" but I don't think this is necessary. Grandma never needed to be told to rest. She spent the last few years resting, so that when she got up there, she'd have the energy to do everything she ever wanted. I hope she doesn't rest. I hope she laughs, and talks to Grandpa Brown and Granny for days. I hope she mingles with family members long forgotten, and keeps her eyes on us all the way she really wanted to. I hope she continues to be the voice in our ear.
And although these are always too late when they come,....I want to be the first to come out and say what an asshole I was. I'm sorry Grandma....but I have a strange feeling of peace when I say it. Like it just doesn't matter anymore.
I hope we can all take a moment in the next few days to say we are sorry, allow that forgiving feeling to wash over us,.....and think of the way she was when we were kids eating watermelon on the back porch....I have to since I didn't know her at 27.
Long summers running barefoot to Anita's house while she chased us about burning our feet on the street, sprinklers in the backyard, elaborate holiday meals, days worth of video footage because she didn't want to miss a minute of our childhood, the stupid songs she sang that would stuck in our heads,....that I will sing to my kids for years to come....
Amen.
Blessed Be.
Benedictus.
And all that may follow.
After the initial shock of being told the news....the gut wrenching, "wind-knocked-out-of-you", falling on the ground to your knees (literally), feeling of pure helplessness, guilt, and shame. Yes guilt and shame. We all felt it. Anyone who said otherwise are liars. Whether she was your round the clock babysitter, you spoke down to her because her mind was going, or snickered because her hearing was bad and everytime you said something she would smile because she had no clue what you were saying.....the moment after grief came absolute guilt. It's natural. You never feel that REALLY until after someone's passing. I did. I felt for her the last time I was up there, although I made no real attempt to connect. I do feel the stab of guilt, as I should....as should we all. But in reality, I don't think Grandma really cared. She had her babies, her family, and her house. She moaned and groaned a lot, as old women tend to do,....but she had most of what she wanted.
For those of you who don't already know- I'm taking the opportunity to share this now, as I see no real sense in hiding this any longer. I feel no shame in it, just wanted to avoid conflict;
I am not a Christian.
So after the sudden punch had passed of feeling miserable, I remembered Grandma's talks with me, and her telling me that she didn't want her "babies to hurt" over her passing. So yesterday evening, as I sat, half laying, in a daze on the couch, I began to imagine the after life for my Grandmother.
She was part Indian, and loved to brag about it. I imagined her journey into the Nightlands to comfort myself. A peaceful, effortless descent that brought a tear to my eye. But as she came to the open plains of the place of rest, she didn't enter.
I couldn't get past this part of my fantasy. I began to bother me a bit.
Then it dawned on me. I am not a Christian, but my Grandmother was. A devout one at that. She wasn't in the Nightlands. Or the Summerlands, or the Underworld, the Resting Grounds or otherwise. Grandma Bea was nestled snuggly and firmly in the hands of heaven.
And having known what I did about heaven, and what I did about the things Grandma and I had talked about, I envisioned her heaven. And cried. I know now where she is. And she is happy.
Grandma is on a porch surrounded by the wet red clay in the Oklahoma sunset. A 27 year old rendering of herself (because this is the age she had always said she would be happiest, and would go back to given the chance) is sitting on a rocking bench on a porch with her daddy. They're drinking Pepsi, and she's catching him up on all the family gossip, telling him about her newest babies, explaining what Facebook is, and enjoying all the company he has to offer. Surrounded by sweetly scented purple lavender......
Normally at a moment like this,.....people say, "Rest in peace so and so" but I don't think this is necessary. Grandma never needed to be told to rest. She spent the last few years resting, so that when she got up there, she'd have the energy to do everything she ever wanted. I hope she doesn't rest. I hope she laughs, and talks to Grandpa Brown and Granny for days. I hope she mingles with family members long forgotten, and keeps her eyes on us all the way she really wanted to. I hope she continues to be the voice in our ear.
And although these are always too late when they come,....I want to be the first to come out and say what an asshole I was. I'm sorry Grandma....but I have a strange feeling of peace when I say it. Like it just doesn't matter anymore.
I hope we can all take a moment in the next few days to say we are sorry, allow that forgiving feeling to wash over us,.....and think of the way she was when we were kids eating watermelon on the back porch....I have to since I didn't know her at 27.
Long summers running barefoot to Anita's house while she chased us about burning our feet on the street, sprinklers in the backyard, elaborate holiday meals, days worth of video footage because she didn't want to miss a minute of our childhood, the stupid songs she sang that would stuck in our heads,....that I will sing to my kids for years to come....
Amen.
Blessed Be.
Benedictus.
And all that may follow.
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Neurotic Ramblings
Today is most definitely a "poor pitiful me" day. Every one seems a little agitated with me as I have been at a disconnect lately with all but one. My decision making skills are lacking still.I have fallen back on my arse down that slippery slope known as "co-dependence" and allowed myself to project my feelings of inadequacy and anxiety onto those around me. I have become neurotic and compulsive in my need to satisfy, and suffocated one while neglecting the other. Such is the plight of the Bi-polar co-dependent. I must say for an otherwise mentally healthy co-dependant, it must be a nightmare. I have the inability due to bi-polar to be able to focus on multiple things at one time, and sometimes hone in on one "over-focused" subject and do it until it kills me. For a normal person, co-dependance is the obsessive need to please everyone at once.....I would likely off myself. This would probably be better for everyone else, just not me.
I haven't been doing my meditation like I'm suppose too....*slaps own wrist* BAD MYOTONIC GOAT-GIRL!! In-part due to not having time period, and partially due to not having time alone and being embarrassed by the process it requires. Smart remarks and wise-cracks make me just not want to do it at all. Ally says to "Own that shit" ....easier said then done. I don't know why it's such a sensitive subject for me. Make fun of the hair on my back, the unusual length of my toes, the size of my nose, my crooked teeth,....most likely I will laugh too and blame my genetics with a, "those fuckers!!" but for something that is so comfortable to me, it is still an uneasy subject matter to talk about my meditation techniques and beliefs. It's mostly the way in which it's done too, I suppose. Agitated, hostile, and almost angry and defensive. Like how dare I think freely and believe something different that's so out there??
So many reasons for deflection of emotion. This trip has me on edge. There has been alot of "up and down" with my family over the last year and a half. One huge blow-out, followed by a make-up, followed by little bouts of disagreements here and there and only hearing from them occasionally.....and now I am going to see them. I have an extremely high level of anxiety over that. My daughter's mental issues, that (was pointed out to me this morning) should have been taken care of over the summer while I could watch her reactions to medications....(of course I didn't think of that....why would I?? Now she gets to wait for school to start because we had "too much chaos going on this summer") her father who can't come get her, wont come get her, wants to fight, then wants to be friends again, the little one just plain being four years old, the potential photographic opportunities I'm letting slip through my fingers, the financial bull shit that I haven't even begun to take care of REALLY, all of that and trying to cope with my own mental issues and NOT HAVE SEIZURE ACTIVITY BECAUSE GOD FORBID I SHOULD START TO TWITCH!! I have swept it under the rug for the last few weeks,....and today that rug is being trampled. Little by little particles of my muck are flying out. So now I suppose I'm going to just sit back and wait for an elephant to come tromping through and taking the damn rug with him, exposing all my dirty little secrets.......I may boil over....wish me luck....
I haven't been doing my meditation like I'm suppose too....*slaps own wrist* BAD MYOTONIC GOAT-GIRL!! In-part due to not having time period, and partially due to not having time alone and being embarrassed by the process it requires. Smart remarks and wise-cracks make me just not want to do it at all. Ally says to "Own that shit" ....easier said then done. I don't know why it's such a sensitive subject for me. Make fun of the hair on my back, the unusual length of my toes, the size of my nose, my crooked teeth,....most likely I will laugh too and blame my genetics with a, "those fuckers!!" but for something that is so comfortable to me, it is still an uneasy subject matter to talk about my meditation techniques and beliefs. It's mostly the way in which it's done too, I suppose. Agitated, hostile, and almost angry and defensive. Like how dare I think freely and believe something different that's so out there??
So many reasons for deflection of emotion. This trip has me on edge. There has been alot of "up and down" with my family over the last year and a half. One huge blow-out, followed by a make-up, followed by little bouts of disagreements here and there and only hearing from them occasionally.....and now I am going to see them. I have an extremely high level of anxiety over that. My daughter's mental issues, that (was pointed out to me this morning) should have been taken care of over the summer while I could watch her reactions to medications....(of course I didn't think of that....why would I?? Now she gets to wait for school to start because we had "too much chaos going on this summer") her father who can't come get her, wont come get her, wants to fight, then wants to be friends again, the little one just plain being four years old, the potential photographic opportunities I'm letting slip through my fingers, the financial bull shit that I haven't even begun to take care of REALLY, all of that and trying to cope with my own mental issues and NOT HAVE SEIZURE ACTIVITY BECAUSE GOD FORBID I SHOULD START TO TWITCH!! I have swept it under the rug for the last few weeks,....and today that rug is being trampled. Little by little particles of my muck are flying out. So now I suppose I'm going to just sit back and wait for an elephant to come tromping through and taking the damn rug with him, exposing all my dirty little secrets.......I may boil over....wish me luck....
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