A time to understand and release what's passedI'm deep in homework, reading, watching videos, and yet... today is Ostara. It began at 11:00 am my time, which is Central. It also began at 12:00 am Manila time which is where Earth's day begins. Not just Manila, but the rest of the Philippines. Our Filipino siblings get the right, the honor, and the privilege of getting our day on Earth started. I love knowing what time the new day begins. That way, if I am excited about tomorrow, most time, it's already here! I started the day with the dance of Welcome to my Mother Ostara. She is mother of us all. Bringer of abundance and keeper of the sacred light. She is the chamber that birthed forth those who inhabit this realm. No matter what silly, "Father story" they've made up to comfort themselves. Ostara is our Life Bringer. The first among beings with wombs to nurture their young. To be responsible. To give life. I confess the discourse over eggs, rabbits and chocolate is rather charming. It's beautiful to engage in discourse and to witness dialogue that reveals the truth of the festival; for the season of rebirth. I am amused and I am also gladdened that this method of transmitting knowledge is reaching so far and so wide. It's beautiful to witness the witness of it all. My brain feels significantly improved in its overall processes of this earth experience. I don't know that I'll ever be entirely comfortable in this body. With this face, this voice, and this vocation. I cannot say that I want, crave, need, or even like to get a good look at myself, so pass. I'd much rather see others as they see themselves and go from there. A novel has begun to pour from my soul. Inspired by too many movies and characters I fell in love with along the way.. I'm certain I can bring these characters forward and out of the background.
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Everybody deserves a good dayI love how a snow day can fix whatever is wrong with the Earth. Something about all of us huddled together against nature's frozen fury to reconnect us and spark... well all kinds of things! For me, this time it sparked a bit of baking to enjoy some warm goodness during the storm. I also love good snow day memories. Yesterday was a really good day to remember one of the best of times. My entire existence with my birth family was not clown shoes. For the most part it was ordinary and there weren't a lot of overt clues at first that my future would be different than it was back then. Jessie had her shining moments for certain. There was the year that she was doing well financially and chose to spend on her kids' Christmas and not herself. That was the year of the perpetual presents. The presents started early in December and would continue until almost the New Year. I recall all of them marked "From Santa" but by the time I was 11, the Secret of who was actually Santa at home was in full reveal. Mom never took an ounce or a lick of credit. I just remember the steady barrage of gifts. Maybe I didn't understand them then like I do now. Maybe I even seem unimpressed or even over the receiving of gifts by the time the last ones were opened. Did my cavalier attitude hurt my Mother who had worked so hard and taken so much time to shop, wrap and scheme to give? I truly hope not. Because I never forgot what she did and how she did it. I never forgot the love I felt that year as gift after gift was laid before me. If I didn't express adequate gratitude then, I choose to do so daily, now. Thank you Jessie for your many gifts. I receive them with gratefulness and love. Another beautiful winter memory is the time she surprised us on a snow day with an ice skating pond. She had hand hauled water and poured a pond all by hand. She had it smooth and it was snow-covered ready for the big reveal on our first day home from school due to snow. And what a surprise it was! We never would have guessed she would have thought to do something like this, aside from actually pulling it off! She pulled it off and in true genius fashion, she spent a quiet snow day inside while we skated until our cheeks were red and noses ran. I'm going to try to think of better times and days as much as I am capable. There isn't a ton of superb memories to override my main experience. But there are some gleaming times that I can glean if I lean into it. I'm appreciative of her efforts at all. I'm not sure what her motives were ever, but at least I had chances to heal some of the nonsense before leaving for good and into adulthood. I am no longer holding harms or blames at all. Now I search for healing in the mundane and celebrate the small wins.
And why we don't do "that"I did not infant bond with my birth mother, Jessie. Instead, she was institutionalized for the first six weeks of my life. I was handed over to my maternal grandparents with whom I infant bonded. Once Jessie was home, I was removed from my grandparents and given over to Jessie to begin my torture. I wasn't born with developmental delays, but because I was given over to someone who was mentally ill and probably shouldn't have been around children at all, I do have developmental delays. In some areas I excelled because Jessie put her focus on things like spelling, reading and sitting pretty and looking nice. She emphasized, as I got older, that my face was going to be an area that she would target. My face was her target. She chose ad hominem as her tool. I won nothing with her ever. She won every round she played with me because she never stuck to the issues and refused resolution opting instead to verbally attack. I do not ad hominem. I also do not fux with anyone who ad hominems their issues. There is no reason to assault a loved one's character or person or being simply to win an argument. I am also opposed to anyone whom I witness practicing ad hominem instead of working to resolve issues. Folks who fux with ad hominem types are stuck in decaying cycles of abuse that are refusing to prosper or benefit this style of debate. It's woeful to be on the receiving end of an ad hominem. One of the other things my parents did was choose my first husband over me after we divorced. They chose their son-in-law over their own daughter. He, too, was an ad hominem freak. Anytime I tried to address our issues, he would go on the attack and become verbally vicious. He was combative always and saw himself as the "ultimate victor". And good for him. Good for them. Now, the ad hominem people that used to be in my life have formed themselves a little ole ad hominem club of folks who lost me forever because they couldn't stop attacking me, my character and my face. My face is not a subject for you ever. My face is mine. It's my persona. It's part of my assigned person that I'm growing into. It's not available for speculation, comment, conjecture or even accusation. My face is off the subject list forever. It's not your face. You're welcome to discuss your own face all you like, but mine isn't available. Ever.
As far using my face in your ad hominem. Don't. It's playing dirty and I won't abide to your filthy habits. Don't make it a habit. Don't do it at all. If it's not your face, so shut up about it entirely if you're not exercising total kindness. "This part is for me and me alone"At some point in everybody's lives there comes a moment where the world absolutely has to fuck all the way off and get right with itself. This is that moment. The moment of lists, lies and betrayal has me deep in my closet of Self asking me what my role was and where did I go wrong? We're flatly at a "cart before the horse" and "chicken or egg" scenario of "we didn't start the fire" yeah but maybe we need to think about putting that cart back where it's most useful, let the chicken have her egg and put out some of these damn fires. Enough is fucking enough already. Y'all prove the intelligence of a fruit fly and this time it was over a pink cup. WTAFF!? I digress. I'm here to tell all the shadows that want torment me daily with what happened with my daughter is... I love her. If that's what the shadow needs to hear, then let it be heard. I never stopped loving. Perhaps, dearest shadow that's what I should have done or what others did or what was expected of me. Did the "shadow" win? No, because I'm not at war with the shadow talkers, walkers and whisperers. I'm simply not taking their shit anymore than I'm taking the aggressive bullshit that happened between my daughter and myself. I refuckingfuse to have an aggressive relationship with anyone. Any one. Any. One. Noone will be entertained for any time, season or purpose if the conclusion is to be violent. Violence, knows no bounds. When my daughter spoke of guns, I was so uncomfortable because guns don't belong in the hands of the mentally ill. If you're an out of control rage monster, which is the person she showed me she was, she had no right to hold a firearm ever. And I'm not even saying that as a Mom, but as a qualified firearms expert, trained in the proper use, cleaning and storage of firearms. None. I still loved her even when she scared me and made me afraid of her. Was I afraid of her the whole time she was here? No, not every moment. There were delicate, intimate moments of realness, truth and healing. However these moments were eclipsed by the rage monster she chose to unleash on me, Paul, Max, the cats, the birds and this property. It still resonates with me how she left. Do I still love her even after she attacked us, called the police and tried to have me arrested? I do. I love her because my love is not conditional. The shadow thinks my love should be conditional. However, that is illogical as actions and reactions can often have underlying physical consequences that manifest outward during extreme duress. Was my daughter under the worst duress of her life? I would say so. Do I believe she was responsible for 100% of the experiences she was having on the daily? No. I say the Earth was in revolt and she was reacting, overreacting and not responding gracefully to her changing circumstances. However, I also do not believe that becoming abusive, violent and angry towards helpful family was in anybody's best interest. We all claim we want to do what was in the best interest of the children. However, in the scenario I was forced to live out with my daughter, she did not live as though she believed she was doing what was in the best interest of her son. No. She was living to her own best interest. She proved this by immediately seeking out fresh dick and making weekend plans with a young father caring for her infant children. She was livid that he had the nerve to spend all his time with his children. She didn't understand why he didn't dote on her, take her to dinner or spend any time with her. She was enraged that he would be so dismissive of her after their encounter. I felt bad that he had to meet her and deal with her for a weekend when clearly he was trying to do what was best for his children. The shadow wants to shame me for not wanting her here. The shadow wants me to feel badly that I cast a "move forward" spell on their belongings that began to pile high in the upstairs common area. I refuse to give in to shame, fear and uncertainty over my own choices and actions. I was asked flat out if they could move onto our property and we replied "no" and they came anyway. They came anyway after I said "no". Ignored I would be under my own roof, so I took to climbing ladders and painting walls to busy myself. I busied myself with Batman videos, painting walls and spending time with my grandson. Only to have our bills driven up, promises of payments that would never come and the rage monster who was lurking always. The rage monster got worse with alcohol. We're a mostly dry house so when the rage monster took over and started drinking all our expensive alcohol, I hid it in my bedroom. Only to be angrily confronted that I hid my liquor. Yes, ma'am, when the rage monster takes over and starts drinking all the liquor, the standard next move is to move the liquor and dear shadow I have no qualms hiding things from those who take without asking or payment. The question isn't "did I love them?" Because clearly opening our home, our refrigerator, our wallets and our stashes to those who needed shelter wasn't something we were going to get incorrectly. What was incorrect was the abuse we suffered as a result of allowing them in. What was incorrect was the financial games they played with us. What was incorrect was the part where it was expected I would cook, yet nobody would eat. If I didn't cook, the rage monster would show up. I would cook and all the food would be ignored. It was the weirdest set of rando expectations I had forced on me. The daily game of "should I cook?" and "will they eat?" Which was always "Yes" and "No". Exhausting it truly was. The mind games would take almost a year to unpuzzle and set comprehensible in my own brain. I take comfort in knowing that food was always here, ready and available. So the picky, bougie upper snotty folks who glommed onto our enterprise didn't like home cooked, farm prepared fresh food. They needed their ultra super epic processed white whiteness to reflect onto because there certainly wasn't a healthy quality to their incessant demands. Exhausting they were on all fronts. We're still cleaning up their messI believe part of her strategy in moving so swiftly and suddenly with no notice gives her the advantage of never having to clean up after herself. If, and hear me out, if she always, always, always leaves in a screaming rage monster fashion, inflicting as much emotional harm as she can on her way out, who will want her back so she can deal with the mess that is truly hers? She thinks of herself very highly that she's "tidy", "clean" and "well organized". Yet when she left the mess she abandoned was incredible. I'm not yet caught up and haven't still been able to connect with any cleaning services locally to get the mess she abandoned restored. How convenient it is to never have to clean, maintain or restore a building, property, room or house. How convenient it is to move into pristine locations and just tear out of there like bandit when you've overstayed your welcome, not paid your bills or bonded with the other inhabitants. Infuckingcredible to be THIS OLD and still behaving in this fashion. I realize we're all a little damaged and in need of TLC, Love and compassion but at some point the light has got to go on that this isn't the way. We don't just abandon ship and leave it to others. We don't. Because with that kind of game, she can expect to have others turn tail and use this same tactic back on her. We are what we do. We do reap the consequences of our choices. I believe I have satisfied the shadows incessant demands for balance. I don't hate anybody. But we've presently reached the stage where I am not over extending myself beyond myself. This is pretty much it until I am back in the field working again. Even then, my personal life isn't going to be a debate on how much i loved them. i did love. Too much. And it cost everybody. So, now everybody can feel safe now that I'm sticking to myself. The shadow can fuck off and keep it's memories of feeling inferior and the horror of being attacked at my front door and three days of police at my house. Nobody needed 3 days of police at their house. Nobody. Do I love her? Always. She has work to do though before we'll resume anything. And we're gonna talk about what happened or we're not going to talk. That's as simple as that. I love myself more. I have to. It's what's best for all.
It's been time to get real with myself since I said "no" and they ignored me and did whatever they wanted. It was elder abuse. The elders abused were myself and my husband Paul. Who abused me? Hard to say and I won't be saying here. But what I will say, that according to my research and memory of my experience in my own house I am reckoning within and without myself that it was in fact elder abuse. When someone asks to do something and you say "no" and they do it anyway, that's abuse. It's impossible to love your abuser. I know that on some twisted planes of reality there are folks who have themselves convinced that Love is possible in every form and every action. But alas I'm here to pop your pristine bubble of perfectness and tell you "no". No is still the reply that I must give when I say "You didn't love me when you came." When they come and they don't love you, watch out. Watch out in a really big way because there will be posturing. There will be name calling. There will games to which you don't have the rules and will lose every time. My advice is, don't play. I wasn't playing. This was my house. This was my life. This was my marriage to either get right or fuck up trying too hard. What it wasn't was anyone else's "show" that they staged by hauling in so much crap, it's still outside blowing around in the Wisconsin winter winds. It's impressive to see the vastness of what wasn't needed but was brought and now just sits. Things that came from places that they pretended to be a big deal at and then told them things about us and then told us things that they said that they said about us, but you know I don't for one second believe one word they said about those people because all they did was lie about everything. I didn't need lies. I wanted a family. She knew that and for whatever twisted purpose saw to it that I have no family. She wanted to win. She won. She can feel good about herself now! Good. Because as far as I can tell, this wasn't just a trauma thing she pushed on us. This was Her. I met Her. And I am good. She proved to me over the past 30+ years how much she doesn't need me at all to live her life on her terms. So be it. Her life is completely on her terms. I accept them. All of them.
It was still elder abuse. She cannot undo what She did to me and my husband. And lordt knows what She's doing to your brothers. Who is she anyway? After the Pilot/Stalker Lady thing and the thing with Ayla that left everyone, including myself fractured... I decided to go back to college and try to figure out what happened. Not just what happened to me, but my role and underlying behaviors that lead to a lot of what we all experienced as a group. Going back to school was my way of owning up to myself and giving myself an explanation for why I behaved the way that i did. I know that i didn't fully own up to my role in what transpired but I know that because I was masking something darker. Something was more sinister that I experienced and I was experiencing fear in resolving the awful things that happened to me. The semester has concluded and I'm allowing myself a moment to recover and think about what I experienced these past few weeks. The thing that stands out the most was one of the other students and their aberrant behavior. I am aware of the social tenseness that is forming from the disenfranchised. However, I'm also seeing an increase in inclusion for the disenfranchised so that they can cease feeling untethered and begin to form new bonds that can carry them forward into a more stable life existence. I'm also seeing a rejection of the bonds attempting to form by students who are not just untethered, but antagonistic, anti almost everything when it comes their turn to talk. There is a frustration for myself in dealing directly with those not committed to studies. They feel/seem/behave in a bent fashion as a form of sabotage and then disbelief. I'll explore further. My classmate was complaining how her group excluded her from the group project because she wasn't present. She explained that she was at work and unable to participate with the group when the group selected to meet. She stated that she completed her portion of the requirement for the group assignment and was disappointed to learn that they had excluded her portion from the overall assignment the group submitted. I was having difficulty seeing how someone expected to be included when there was zero effort made to be present in order to defend their submission. She expected the group to simply include her portion of the assignment remotely, when that was not what was required. The requirement for the group project was for purpose to be present and in person, working together. She did not do that. And couldn't understand why they rejected her portion.
So, now she's quitting. And she used the word "bomb" in class. The instructor, while smiling and pleasant, did tell my classmate not to use that word. Now, WTF!!! Is this some test to see if the teacher will report the bomb comment or I will? And who and how to fuck is this supposed to happen? Yes, she meets all the criteria for someone who is at risk to take action against people she perceives have done her dirty. She has motive, she's stated it outright. The instructor heard her and commented "don't say that, ever." Ever. She fucking said it. I want to begin by prefacing with my understanding of my placement and role in the family dynamic. I didn't have any understanding at all. I was completely bereft of tactile comprehension for who I was, who I would become and who I was treated as, in my own birth family and why this is important right now. I would go on to learn of the importance of birth order. I would learn that first born had rights, responsibilities and roles they play within the family unit. I did not experience any of these, with the exception of "responsibility" but that was the extent of who I was treated as, trained as and included as when I was growing up with my birth family. I also want to state that I did not "grow up" with my birth family but instead experienced the "growing up" portion of my life once I had kids and had left their father for being abusive and non-inclusive. He screamed everything at me. Everything WAS a FIGHT with him always. I didn't want to live like that, so I left with the kids he no longer wanted to raise. Choke on it or don't, I had to sue the man to get him to fund the kids he promised to fund. When our daughter became too combative with me, I ushered all three to their father in Pennsylvania hoping they would be safer there. They weren't and his place was a bigger shit-show than mine was. By the time I retired and returned home, it was obvious I was nobody to everybody and that was the life I was starting over from. The nobodiness of not belonging to the least inclusive and most exclusive group of people I'd ever met. My own kin. The moment I knew came in 2016. It has taken me years to grieve the loss of my birth family and the subsequent expulsion and rejection by the very people who professed, confessed and obsessed that they would love me and stand by through everything. They did not. Had I been a wanted child, a wanted young person and a wanted adult the scene would have looked very different than it did. Instead, It looked like this. Imagine if you would, it's Christmas. Everyone is happy, everyone is getting gifts and everyone shows up. There's conversation, music and food. The mood is so light that the missteps wouldn't be noticed until well after the holidays were packed away and the last bits of tinsel find their way to the trash bin. Imagine that you spent hours crafting a thoughtful gift for everybody, so not one person would be without a gift. You give sauces, family photos and a thoughtful card to each person. Your brother's get a matched set of concert tickets to Journey in April, a show you could easily arrange to attend with your brothers. "Do you get a ticket?" you excitedly wonder. No, sorry. You get a coloring book on how to be more pleasing to God. You feel the slight instantly. You feel how it's the wrong decision to be not included in such an event. You say nothing. You don't want to "spoil" Christmas for everyone with a mood, attitude or low vibes... so you let it drift until you are safely away, elsewhere. But this is the sign, the one that leaves you knowing, you aren't good enough for them. You aren't good enough for Her. Because everyone knows who the real Santa is and who has be pulling Christmas together for decades. Everyone knows who thought out the gifts, thought out the presents and bought, purchased and wrapped it all today. Everyone knows. Especially you, who didn't get a ticket. You would leave the coloring book there. It isn't your style to just accept gifts that aren't really for you. That gift was for her, for her to feel better about Your life. She never felt good about your life? Why? All those failed murder attempts left her mentally ill and here you are sitting at her table, alive as fuck! Ready to jump from an airplane to celebrate your 50th birthday. One she'd hoped she'd never see. Today I'm reminding myself of the murder attempts. The attic prison. The part where they built the prison together, then housed me in it. I'm reminding myself today of the time he picked me up and threw me down the hall, over and over and over again. This would be the moment you would need to become a powerlifter. So nobody could ever lift you and throw you again. Remember the time they were all drunk inside and left you kids alone with the fire AND the gas can? You would be blamed for the fire that day even though you didn't light it and weren't anywhere near it when it exploded, injuring your cousin. Still, you would receive the drunken screaming from an enraged Doug who never took responsibility for the horror that was the shit-show of HIS LIFE! Not yours. You were a kid. Remember? Kids aren't responsible for fires adults start. That fire, was Doug's. That gas can, was Doug's. That explosion was Doug's. Remember. Once, my son said to me "Did you know they investigated Doug after Grandma died because you called the cops on him?" To whit I say, "Son, did you know your Uncle Scott also called the cops on Doug the same day I did?" Yes, world, I wasn't the only adult sibling to call the cops on parents on the same day. So if a charge is to be levied on wellness checks for seniors who fell when their partner left the state and left them unattended. Then YES!!! I am 100% guilty of having the cops called on my parents. Yes, yes, yes! That's standard stuff for this family. When parents try to murder you, build a prison for you and pick you up and throw you around, you better believe we will be hypervigilant to care and wellbeing of those left behind. I abandoned my mother when she needed me most because my father was so abusive, it wasn't my problem. She rejected me. He rejected me. They both tried to murder me. And they both built a prison. I've never gotten an apology and as far as i can tell the younger generation is okie dokie with all of it because they are still coddling that villainous man. I hope he dies cold. I leave Doug to the remainder of his days in peace but I will be anything but silent. If people don't want to know. Look away and better yet, stay away. I am not the person they made me. I'm someone else entirely. If you can't handle the me that I am truly am. Go away. The reason this is so important right now? I am not alone. My experience is typical. Yes. Typical of the North American United States middle aged female account. Talk to any female who was first born with brothers and you will learn that typically the top sibling was displaced by a lower birth order male in some weird male power struggle dynamic within the familial unit. This is typical of North American fathers to displace their eldest child's position if she was female born and raised to be subservient to her male siblings. Typically these males are raised to be dominant and superior to their female siblings. This has a corrosive and toxic effect on the family dynamic and therefore the familial unit is experiencing a significant disruption in cohesiveness and unity. The family unit is missing in it's former form in the USA. It no longer exists and new family units have started to emerge as being dominant over the former system of "blood is thicker than water." That modality is quickly choking itself out of existence by the expulsion of the strong females from the family unit. They will continue to decline until that modality dies out with that generation who encapsulated that belief system. As a side note. I think it's disgusting that my parents tried to kill me at all. I think it's gross that I was forced to endure the years with them that I did endure. I don't think I would choose that family willingly ever again. I'm not convinced that the life path is one of choice at all. The more I'm here, the longer it appears that "free will" is a fallacy. I am simply present. I am present in this life. My life and my life path has been anything but perfect or easy. If anything it's been painful and arduous. For whatever purpose that translates to beauty. It never misses me how utterly beautiful this life has been. I've been grateful for the company along the way. Thank you for not going away.
It wasn't the pilot's fault but it was a can of worms she opened up. Why her? Because she was a pilot. The one thing that connected me to the horror of long ago. She was the one who held the mantle of abuse but this time held it in front of people who matter to me. She represented all those hours spent under the "care" of the Air Force when it was anything but care. It was rape. It was sexual assault. Every time there was a problem we were sent to the clinic where we raised our skirts and were fondled by airmen, officers and anybody who damn felt like it. All the time. The fondlings started immediately upon entering the Air Force. The fondling continued to Guam, then to the Philippines and back to Guam one more time. Too fat? Go lift your skirt down at the medical bay and let someone fondle you and then you're suddenly thin enough to serve your country one more day. Balk at lifting your skirt and there will be punishments. There will be many punishments. They will have smiles on their faces when they punish you because they can't seem to get enough of looking up your skirt. Montana you will get clever and you won't be fondled as much or as often. By now you've learned their tricks to inebriate you, fill you full of booze, all on their dime of course and in the morning you're sent over to weigh and lift your skirt one more time. You're saavvyy too these ploys and you've stopped playing their games and started dedicating yourself to duty. Your nose is down, grinding away, no problemo and then.... My boss was fornicating with another servicemember under her powerAnd that's how I left the Air Force. They tried to say I had stolen money from the Air Force and committed fraud. But really, I had a husband who was awarded, rewarded, promoted and I was demoted, framed and set up. Then they tried to bar me from base.... after I scored 98% proficiency on my promotion exams. So when the pilot came, I felt raped once more. Did she rape me? In a way, she really has. She's robbed me of my creative joy. She's made me question myself as a person, a baker and an artist. I felt I had chosen the correct path but truly only time will tell. I do not trust the Air Force nor do I trust the District Attourney and her cohorts to have my best interests at heart at all. They want to vilify me, turn me into a baddie and give me extra shit to talk about in therapy. Look, If I am forced to discuss the district attourney's at all, I mean, at all.. Honey we are talking about your fashion choices, I'm trimming your claws and sharpening mine. SSssssss all this.... On iceThe Great Physician & Personal HealerHi, I'm back again. It's me, the me who approached this staircase last time. The Creator is once again taking me through the process of healing what formerly happened to me. I've come to a great number of realizations about the complexity of life on earth in relation to my own personal experiences. And I've learned some stuff not just about Earth, but about myself as well. I also learned that not everyone I'm related to by blood will love me, treasure me or even want to be in the same building as me. If you are stuck in a building with someone who doesn't love you, treasure you or want what's best for you... Leave, and if you can't leave, fight for what's yours. Don't let others latch on and abuse you simply because they are close enough. I wanted to go through the medical community and therapy but once again I hit brick wall after brick wall and am mortally aware I'm safer healing in my own company. And that includes the Creator. The ability to transcend these spaces and to ascend to the Creator's healing spaces to allow the process to advance. I feel safer in this realm that I do the therapists' office. There are simply too many boxes that need checked in a clinical setting that my care gets sidelines by check marks. I've come to learn some truths about the relationships that I once held so dear. Please bear with me while I make a cursory list, that we may or may not explore more in further blogs. Truth 1 - Not everyone present in the building has the care, concern, love or understanding for those present. Truth 2 - Those who lack care will go to any means, lengths and actions possible to get what they feel is owed to them. Truth 3 - They are no above lying to law enforcement and will use law enforcement as an aggressive extension of themselves. It's a way to instantly punish those who are non compliant. Truth 4 - They were always leaving. Always. They were always going to leave how they left. This is how they do it. You didn't make anyone leave. You never said words or had actions that said "leave". You were actively trying to "work things out" with someone who leaves every relationship they leave explosively. Truth 5 - This was their plan the whole time. They were always headed somewhere else and they had their plan in place long before arriving at your door. I was never part of the plan, I was simply a tool to allow people to stay in place and work their plan. Truth 6 - They were never going to pay. She never pays. She pretends to pay, she almost pays, she promises to pay. But payment is, was and always will be lacking. People don't change all that much from who they were as kids. She's herself. Truth 7 - The verbal games were played because she felt bad about herself. She had low self image. The world is based on making girls have low self image. You didn't create the world, she is beautiful and she misuses her beauty to manipulate others. she's all about the manipulation. It's all manipulation. She doesn't know how not to manipulate. It's what she does. Truth 8 -She takes credit for things she was never asked to do or tasked with. She creates dramatic situations so she can be the hero and save the situation. She can't even save herself from herself. What makes her think she can save you? Don't let her try. You're doing fine saving yourself from yourself every day. You've learned to save others from yourself. Now I'm saving her from myself. Clearly being in the same room with me isn't healthy for her, so we will stop doing anything that exacerbates her illness. She never saved you from anyone but herself. She's out of the room now, don't invite her back in. Truth 9 - She will try to come back. She always does. She will use guilt. Don't accept guilt. You have no guilt this time. You're on the healing path and have surrendered guilt and have taken up acceptance over the situation. You are moving on. You're healing all this and we're not going down this road again. Once and done. No more visits, no more screaming, no more games and no more cops. No more. No. Final Truth - My grandson is not his mother. His memories of us are his. We have a good relationship. It's intact. I do not accept aggression transference. He does not get to carry his mother's anger, agenda or patterns of behavior. She holds her own. He holds his. He does NOT get to carry his mother. I release myself from the need to make contact. I release myself from having to feel like I need to chase therapy. I am therapizing with the Great Healer. It's working. I am more functional than before. And the realization that I can do this is comforting. It's helping me feel like I can release the need to please unseen forces. If I had one thing to say it is, "You must respect the grieving and the healing process. If someone in your midst is hurt on the inside or grieving a significant loss, there must be a wider berth of respect, love and acceptance. Creating safe spaces, listening without judgement and avoiding preaching, coaching or directing the healing. Healing happens, there is no need for a director. But there might be use for sympathetic ears, hearts and minds. Your mouth is less necessary than you realize. Learn to hear and listen with your heart."
We joke about "Panic at the Disco" swapping memes that quip, shouldn't we panic everywhere? As funny as it is to see, living it is quite another story. Recently, and I mean within the last two weeks our farm experienced our first real impact weather related heat emergency. A crisis situation had developed due to the unseasonably high temperatures. Where now it should be much cooler, it is not. And while plants, trees and humans may be able to adapt, animals cannot. And need to be supported. We saw the rapid change of weather's effect on our turkey family and made immediate arrangements to have the coop moved. My panic didn't stop there. Since then it's been warmer, dryer and with less rain than typical. So while we mitigated an immediate crisis, a much longer larger one is wafting out before us in the distance. The full blown panic set in when I allowed my mind to think about flushing toilets. I lost my shit and needed my sweet husband to talk sweetly to me and hug me tight. Panic has set in for this farmer. I have fashioned a bell. The bell I ring for climate change and for change to have begun yesterday. I'm panicking. Why aren't you? "I'm panicking.
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AuthorMarihemp is a Mystic Archives
January 2024
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