Keeping Abreast of the Situation

Image courtesy of Bing image search

This image is hilariously true & my first 40 have been, by no means, an exception.

Some of you may recall the heartbreak my family and I experienced in February 2011 when my sister was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer and then died suddenly in the hospital after 3 days of admittance. It was then that I jumped face first into breast cancer advocacy.

Then October of that year I had my own breast lump scare, which thankfully turned out to be nothing. However, since then I have been going through my own personal hell trying to figure out how not to get this plague. I had yearly mammograms, I spoke with breast specialists, I tried to get family on board to help me with paperwork so that I could get the genetic testing done to find out once and for all if I am predisposed for this horrendous disease. All to no avail or peace of mind for me.

Isn’t that how life seems to go…

So after years of trying to get my emotional well-being in good working order, I took another leap trying to get my physical health under control as well. In doing this, I found a great RN who got me in touch with a great breast cancer specialist at St. Louis University Hospital.

At first, I was freaking out. Because you know it was not that long after the 4th year deathaversary of Jess, and apparently I was not as over it as I had previously thought. So while retelling the story I broke down, I was an absolute train wreck.

Yeah, so not over it…

After consultation, two exams by two different medical professionals, and a box of tissues; the doctor decides that the best course of action would be for me to see a genetic counselor and find out what my risk is and if I should be genetically tested for the breast cancer gene. Then pending the counselor’s decision I could be given a referral for a breast reduction at my 3 month follow-up.

I was incredibly nervous for weeks leading up to the appointment with the counselor. Nervous and me are like ex lovers, a true love/hate relationship, only, I am the one who suffers no matter what.

Ha, another emotional issue I thought I had conquered and left in my past…

Based on what I knew about my family history (not much really, in retrospect) which is full of cancers, the counselor assessed my risk factor for breast cancer.

The counselor assessed me as high risk at 20-40%. Most women have a risk factor of 12%. The counselor then decided that it would be better for the only cancer survivor in my family to have the gene test done and then if she was positive, I could then be tested too.

I had a lot of emotional baggage brought up by the thought of having to contact family that I had decided to stop having contact with.

It took me a few days but I knew what I had to do, and it didn’t involve reconnecting with those toxic people…

I had spent so much time freaking myself out over something that may or may not happen, that I ended up missing the fact that my risk of getting breast cancer is the exact same since my conception. Genetically nothing had changed at all.

The scariest part of life is always the unknowns and even then, what really was I scared of…

The only thing that could change all of this was to have a double mastectomy and that, without the gene test, was off the table. Or so I thought.

Since I am such a high risk, my doctor has given me two choices going forward in my breast health. I can get a breast reduction, which I have been in desperate need of getting for most of my life. In doing this I can relieve a great deal of my back pain and other issues due to having such heavy breasts. I can then get mammograms and MRI’s every 6 months, and annual doctor exams for the rest of my life. This option doesn’t take away any of the risk of getting breast cancer that I already have.

Being 4 weeks short of 40, I am thinking that option sounds like a really long time to be doing all of that. And in my opinion seems more of a cosmetic fix than a preventative measure.

Or I can get a prophylactic double mastectomy and cut my risk factor way down with no more need of mammograms or MRI’s, just an annual visit and exam by my doctor. This option can lower my risk of getting breast cancer immensely.

After sitting for 2 hours waiting for my mammogram results and then discussing it with my husband, it became a lot easier to chose which path was right for me.

Tuesday June 30th I meet with the plastic surgeon to discuss my options but I am fairly confident in the decision I have already made.

I choose…

the prophylactic double mastectomy because they’re only boobs, my life over bags of flesh and fat any day!

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A Friday Moment

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A Friday ritual. A single photo — no words — capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.

“This Moment” is a ritual found on Life inspired by the Wee Man adopted from SouleMama which was introduced to others by Sarah-Jane, of Almost There.

I was asked to participate in this by Anna Sides, of The Other Side of Anna and the other great blogging members of the Facebook group Blogplicity.

If you find yourself touched by a moment and would like to participate, post your picture on a Friday and leave your link in the comments section.

Copyrighted: InjensMind

#BlogTagYouAreIt ‘Sometimes I Wish…’

One of the blogging groups I am in is having a blog hop, we are calling it “Blog Tag…You’re It.” For those of you who don’t know what a blog hop is, let me explain. It is several different bloggers blogging on their own blog all about the same topic but done in their own unique ways. Phew! Say that 3 times fast. LOL This specific hop will feature 28 bloggers from around the globe. The essence of what World Wide Web stands for if you ask me. We each will have our own day to post about the topic ‘Sometimes I Wish…’ During this time, one blogger thanks the previous blogger for the introduction to their post and then writes a mini introduction for the blogger who follows them.

So here goes…

A very big thank you to Brenda, who writes at Passionate Pusuits. It’s been a pleasure getting to know you and sharing the  blogosphere world with you. Here’s to many more blog hops, posts, and getting to know a variety of bloggers inside and outside the group. You can click here to see her blog hop post on this subject.

Now for the introduction I am to give for our next blogger in line:

Say hello to Sili, who writes at My Mamihood. She writes about her life and the non-stop misadventures of her “Frog Princess”, which is the adorable nickname she uses for her young daughter.

Please take some time (after finishing my post of course) to visit both of these ladies.

Sometimes I Wish…

For somebody, aka me, to publicly acknowledge my wishes, I would first have to believe in them. But, I don’t believe in wishes or wishing for that matter. However, I did…once; a very long time ago when I was an impressionable youngster, back before I knew any better, back before the reality of what my life was hit me like a ton of bricks. It was during a time when wishes and dreams were what young children would thrive on, that is, until they realized either as teenagers or adults that wishes just don’t come true, no matter how much you wish on them or pray for them, beg, scream, plead, cry, or fuss about them, no matter how many times the people at Disney tell you they do… They just don’t come true!

I was approximately 5-years-old when I would lay in bed and stare at the night sky, wishing on the bright stars that illuminated my room. I was just as much a raging insomniac back then as I am now. (No doubt due to the volatile lifestyle I lived from a super-young age.) I even tossed several wishes to the man in the moon for good measure, then patiently awaited the entire night for somebody/anybody to magically swoop in and rescue me. I have yet to stop staring at the night sky (or learned how to fall asleep when the rest of the world does) but, I have stopped sending wishes out there, and I have most certainly stopped waiting for someone to ride in on their white horse and rescue me.

  • I wish my daddy and mommy didn’t fight so much.
  • I wish my daddy loved me.
  • I wish that “they” hadn’t touched me like that.
  • I wish those touching’s would stop happening.
  • I wish I could stay out of the principal’s office for fighting.
  • I wish people would just leave me alone.
  • I wish people would stop touching me. Why do they keep touching me?
  • I wish my mommy would come and pick me up more often.
  • I wish I could play outside with the other kids and not have to be in bed while the sun is still out.
  • I wish I didn’t have to sit in the corner so long every day.
  • I wish my step-mom loved me.
  • I wish I wasn’t hated so much by my daddy and step-mom.
  • I wish my mommy hadn’t moved so far away. Does she hate me now too?
  • I wish I didn’t have to sit behind furniture when we visited with family and friends.
  • I wish I could play with my cousins.
  • I wish my grandma didn’t get drunk and push my grandfather into the bookcase.
  • I wish my daddy didn’t get drunk and pass out in the truck.
  • I wish I didn’t know about alcoholism and its effects.
  • I wish my step-mom didn’t take out her insecurities about my mommy on me.
  • I wish my daddy would stop talking bad about my mommy.
  • I wish my step-mom didn’t talk badly about my mommy.
  • I wish I wasn’t talked about badly to my face.
  • I wish I could be loved like my little sister.
  • I wish my daddy didn’t move us so far away when my mommy moved back to town.
  • I wish I could see my baby brother every day.
  • I wish I didn’t have to see a school counselor for “my problems.”
  • I wish my step-mom didn’t take away things my mommy and grandma bought for me.
  • I wish I didn’t cry so hard every time I came back home to my daddy’s house.
  • I wish I didn’t get punished for vomiting after I cried so hard.
  • I wish I didn’t know what soap tastes like.
  • I wish my daddy and step-mom didn’t use a thick wooden paddle with holes drilled in it on me.
  • I wish I could sit down.
  • I wish I didn’t have to show the friend of the court my butt and all the still purple welts that hadn’t yet gone away after several weeks.
  • I wish somebody would help me.
  • I wish somebody would listen.
  • I wish the counselor would stop asking other types of social workers, guidance people, therapists, and groups to talk to me. Every time they give me a card or tell me how my life should be I am punished more severely.
  • I wish my school counselor didn’t call my step-mom and tell her everything I had confided in her.
  • I wish I didn’t get punished so much.
  • I wish I could go to friends’ houses and not always be grounded.
  • I wish I had friends who I could talk to.
  • I wish my “big sisters” in the sister program would do more with me.
  • I wish my “big sister” didn’t move away.
  • I wish I didn’t cry myself to sleep every night.
  • I wish I could fall asleep.
  • I wish I could stay asleep.
  • I wish I didn’t hear and see things in the dark.
  • I wish I wasn’t called crazy for seeing dead people.
  • I wish my step-mom didn’t force me to stand in a red ant hill while she yelled at me.
  • I wish the pain would go away.
  • I wish my grandfather who protected me as best as he could didn’t die.
  • I wish I died.
  • I wish I didn’t know what pain is.
  • I wish I didn’t bleed all over my clothes.
  • I wish my belongings didn’t get take away.
  • I wish someone would stand up for me.
  • I wish someone would save me.
  • I wish my sister would stop doing things that I get punished for.
  • I wish I didn’t have to come home.
  • I wish I didn’t go to school.
  • I wish I didn’t live in a small town.
  • I wish people would understand me.
  • I wish they’d all stop making fun of me.
  • I wish I could have long hair.
  • I wish I could wear new girl’s clothes.
  • I wish I wasn’t such a disappointment.
  • I wish I knew what I did wrong.
  • I wish I knew why I was born.
  • I wish I were never born.
  • I wish my mommy would come and pick us up on her weeks.
  • I wish my daddy didn’t tell me he doesn’t think I am his.
  • I wish he’d stop throwing things at my head.
  • I wish he’d stop hitting me.
  • I wish they’d stop touching me.
  • I wish I could get out of here.
  • I wish I had somewhere to go.
  • I wish someone would see the truth.
  • I wish they’d stop lying and calling me the liar.
  • I wish I wasn’t “a good for nothing whore, like your mother.”
  • I wish I knew what a whore was.
  • I wish they’d stop humiliating me.
  • I wish they’d stop degrading me.
  • I wish they’d stop strip searching me.
  • I WISH THEY’D STOP TOUCHING ME!
  • I wish I had money.
  • I wish my money from my job would be mine.
  • I wish I didn’t have to drive such an ugly car.
  • I wish I could drive when I wanted to.
  • I wish I didn’t have to go to the vocational school they chose.
  • I wish I didn’t have to be what they wanted.
  • I wish I knew how to make it all stop.
  • I wish my mind could rest.
  • I wish I could concentrate.
  • I wish I wasn’t scared.
  • I wish there was an end in sight.
  • I wish I had a better life.
  • I wish I could run away and never come back.
  • I wish they’d just finish me off and kill me once and for all already.
  • I wish someone else would stand up for me besides just me alone.
  • I wish they’d stop pretending that they are good and decent people.
  • I wish I didn’t have to send mean letters to my mom on behalf of my daddy and step-mom’s feelings.
  • I wish I didn’t have to have someone read my letters before I could read them.
  • I wish I didn’t have to start another diary again and again and again because my step-mom reads it and can’t face the truth so she takes it away and rips them up.
  • I wish I didn’t have gifts other people gave me taken away and given to my sister or thrown away.
  • I wish I didn’t have to be responsible.
  • I wish I didn’t have to be the oldest.
  • I wish my daddy didn’t spank me so hard that I flew from the living room into the kitchen.
  • I wish I could be a child.
  • I wish I didn’t have to stand in the corner for hours on end with my arms straight in the air.
  • I wish I knew how to get to my mommy’s house when daddy yelled and told me “if you want your mother walk to her house.”
  • I wish I didn’t get left on the front porch in the trailer park at 5 years old all by myself while my daddy and step-mom and sister went to visit with friends, because I didn’t know the way to mommy’s house.
  • I wish I could remember what my real name is. I haven’t heard it in so long.
  • I wish my life wasn’t so dysfunctional.
  • I wish there were no more secrets.
  • I wish I knew what love is.
  • I wish I knew what it feels like to be unconditionally loved.
  • I wish I were someone else, anyone but me.
  • I wish I could forget.
  • I wish I wasn’t permanently scarred and disfigured.
  • I wish I didn’t torture myself as much as they torture me.
  • I wish they’d stop forcing me to kiss and hug them good night and stop forcing me to tell them I love them after everything they did that day.
  • I wish I could stop hurting.
  • I wish there was a God.
  • I wish I didn’t live in Hell.
  • I wish someone could see what is happening.
  • I wish I could have chosen to give away my virginity.
  • I wish an apology was enough.
  • I wish I wasn’t “troubled.”
  • I wish I could stop crying.
  • I wish I could forgive.
  • I wish I understood why they say they forgive but keep bringing old things up.
  • I wish they’d get a different punching bag.
  • I wish it would end.
  • I wish I were intelligent.
  • I wish those who weren’t there would stop acting like they know.
  • I wish I could forget as easily as they all do.
  • I wish they didn’t control me.
  • I wish I could be me.
  • I wish being myself was enough.
  • I wish I were free.
  • I wish… I wish… I wish… I wish… I wish… I wish…
  • I wish I didn’t need to wish anymore…

14 years’ worth of child wishes and countless more things that had been wished and were never fulfilled, never answered, never my salvation. Star wishes, birthday wishes, prayers to God, pleas to anyone who had the power to do something… all fell on deaf ears and ignored by blind eyes.  A child who wished for death because it was the only way that she knew of, that would make it all end. A child who cut her wrists at 12-years-old because she didn’t know how she was going to go on after the death of her grandfather, her rock, her only love. The only one who could see the truth, her truth. A child who clearly grew up long before a child should ever have to.

It would be another 16 years after her 14 year sentence in Hell, before that child/adult would figure out that making wishes, dreaming, praying, and asking for help were all an enormous waste of her  time. One thing she had learned all to well, was that nobody could undo what had been done and even if they could nobody would be willing to switch places with her and take on what she had.

Those 16 additional years they had stolen from her, enslaving her within her own mind. When she wasn’t trying to shield herself and her children from their newest ongoing attacks via telephone, she was visualizing moment after moment in her head, replaying them in her dreams, like a never-ending horror movie, secretly hoping for a different ending, a happy ending. Trying to fill in the cracks whilst new ones were continuously added. Attempting to raise her two children differently than she had been raised, giving them everything she never had. Protecting her children from the vicious spiteful words that the so-called family were trying to pass down to them as if it were the family Bible. Hoping that the man she married who held a strong character resemblance to her father, would not pick up where her father and step-mom left off and continue to violate her tortured and nearly broken spirit. Several times in her life, wishes could have been the way to go, but her mind was so infected by the past she didn’t even consider wishing for her children not to suffer along with their mother. (Or a million other things that the Universe relentlessly pummeled her and her children with.) It never even entered her mind, not because she didn’t believe in wishes anymore (which she didn’t) but, because she was fighting a life vs. death battle inside. Deep inside herself, where there was only going to be one survivor and one alone. Would she come out alive and capable of being a competent mother, wife, human being? Or would she remain trapped inside herself, waiting for that final blow that would finish her off for good?

Then surprisingly without any warning whatsoever, the inconceivable happened and she lost her younger sister to cancer. She was no stranger to death or to cancer for that matter but, losing her sister suddenly did something that no other death could do. It was at that precise moment when the prison door she had been locked behind for most of her life, swung wide open and she walked out of the solitary confinement where she had awaited her death sentence. A light as bright and warm as the sun encased her and she was finally free…free of them, their actions, their words, their evilness, their lies, their prejudices. But wait… she was the one who had allowed them to torture her for over 30 years, even though they had not been a part of her physical life in more than half that time. They only had power over her because she allowed them to have it and use it as they wished. She had allowed the past to be her focus, which held her stagnant in a place where she couldn’t move towards the future let alone appreciate the now. So, she took back the control and freed herself; she freed her past, she freed her mind, she freed her spirit, she freed her future, and she flew away freely with the knowledge and tools that would never allow her to be imprisoned by anyone ever again!

✓ “I wish it would end.”

✓ “I wish I was intelligent.”

✓ “I wish they didn’t control me.”

✓ “I wish I could be me.”

✓ “I wish being myself was enough.”

✓ “I wish I were free.”

✓ “I wish I didn’t need to wish anymore…”

So ok… maybe some times wishes do come true. However, simply wishing for something to happen isn’t going to make it happen. Time, actions, and choices make things happen not the “magical powers” of the wish itself. I don’t need to wish anymore because I’m living in the present. I don’t want to change my past, for if my wishes had come true at that precise moment that I had wished them I wouldn’t be who I am today. I don’t know about you but, I like the person I am today, and I know I will continue to like me even more as time goes by. Something that the young me couldn’t, wouldn’t, and didn’t do.  So thank you for rejecting my wishes so I could be a strong fighter and survivor, outspoken and an activist, a better person than I or anyone else could have dreamed of. Thank you for allowing me to find my path in my own time that ultimately broke the cycle of abuse, violence, alcoholism, blame, inability to grow or move forward, and neglect that plagued my entire family for generations upon generations. Thank you for teaching me lessons that can never be unlearned. All of which allowed me to be here right now telling  showing you… becoming the living proof that anyone can overcome their past and transform into something more than they could have imagined. Wishing is short-sighted, if your wishes came true you wouldn’t learn anything. You wouldn’t be able to keep the knowledge you were taught. You wouldn’t have lived fully. You wouldn’t be able to grow and you most certainly wouldn’t be free. So give your life the time, chance, and education that it needs to grow into something miraculous.

Countdown To The Breaking Point

As I laid in a zombified, neither asleep nor awake state, in my bed this morning, thoughts racing, I had a realization that I may have never come to had it not been for the events that have taken place  in the last year and a half. The universe’s sole responsibility is to continuously batter human beings with loads of things they can barely handle emotionally, mentally, and physically until they reach their breaking point. It’s kind of like that place called Hell that so many speak of.

Several times I have just nearly escaped being irreversibly imprisoned by my own looming breaking point. I have stood on the edge of it, teetering back n’ forth, just waiting for the universe to give me that final kick in my ass that throws me over. I have come to the conclusion that there are only a handful of people left in my life that matter to me to the point where I very well could end up losing my mind completely and forever. Not to say that I don’t love each and every person in my life with all my being, it just means that the last bit of strength that I possess is only enough for that final  handful of people. There are 7 people left before I reach my permanent breaking point and depending on the order in which I lose them, it could be a full 7 or it could be just 1.

After getting the phone call from my grandfather last night I knew how flimsily my sanity hung in the balance. Hell, I knew before we even concluded our conversation, and I’m pretty sure both of my grandparents had a damn good idea of it as well. Thanks to the sudden death of my sister, I will forever be tainted and paranoid by the words, “____ is in the hospital.” Name any of those 7 people and my heart is beating out of my chest, my thoughts begin racing more than usual, and paranoia becomes the desert of the day. Well, it just so happens one of those people were named in that very phone call late last night, my mom. You could pinpoint the precise moment when I lost it, it was the moment when my voice cracked and I began cursing like a sailor on the phone to my grandfather who has been known  to tell all of us women, “Don’t use those 4 letter words. Ladies don’t speak like that.” Well F@&* THAT, I am well aware that a lady I am not. I am also aware that I am probably the last person in my family who can curse in my soprano cracking emotionally charged voice and also be the voice of reason and motivation at the same time.  It’s a gift.

The good news is after speaking to my mom last night, I was more at ease and relatively optimistic. However,  I fell asleep and while I was tossing and turning per my usual nightly ritual, my subconscious revealed things to me that my conscious mind was unable to speak openly about. My dreams were pummeled time and time again with my sister and my twin nephews. All of the bullshit that has been going on since my sister’s death has built up inside of me to the point where I can no longer function on the same level I was functioning at just a few months after her death. When she died I had my writing and I buried myself in that. Then there were mountains of things piled on top of that, from the boyfriend who up and gave his parents custody of my nephews secretly, to the middle men who are keeping my mother and grandparents from fully bonding with the boys, who by the way just turned 2 years old in August.  All these things that I have been forbidden to speak about openly, so that the saintly (hmmph) boyfriend’s family don’t get pissed off and just up and deny visitation completely to my family. This, is the moment when I say… if I had money and a gun!!!

OK…Clearly, I am joking about the gun part. Killing someone for being a thorn in my side is NOT how I do things. And we all know how easily my words get twisted around by the exact same people who I’ve spent years protecting. That alone is some kind of nightmarish form of Hell in its own right. I digress…But, yea…I don’t have money and I am helpless at the moment to do anything about these things. I ache deep down inside of my soul for my nephews and let’s not even go into details about my nieces. Let’s not even bring up how pathetic I feel to have such a loud, strong, and proud voice and to have it be hushed for the sake of family. I am reaching critical mass. It is not long before I reach that breaking point. I just want to do what is right and like all people who fight for rights I am faced with what CAN be done and what SHOULD be done. Those two things are clearly not the same thing.

As for my mom, hopefully she will be released in the next day or two. Then I can start breathing again and go back to waiting. Waiting for the universe’s final blow to my backside while I am not looking… that unavoidable breaking point. And so begins… The Countdown!

The Busy Blogger’s Biggest Issue Resolved By The Broad With The Big Brain

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The biggest issue in the blogging community is not necessarily what you would think it is. Although many bloggers do have difficulty at times with writer’s block, this is not usually their biggest problem.

The biggest issue among bloggers, is finding the spare time to read their fellow bloggers posts. If you are anything like me, you find yourself reading posts from the moment you log online until the moment you finally shut down to go to sleep. It’s a daily occurrence in your life and god forbid you miss a day or even a week. Then you find yourself so far behind that you become too overwhelmed to even care anymore, especially when many bloggers post every single day. How on Earth do you keep up with all that?

If only there was a way to visit all of those posts and more in a shorter period without being stuck on one blog until you were done reading every single word on the page. If only you could listen to the posts while doing other things? “Why didn’t the blogger make this a podcast?” you shout through the darkness of your quiet home. “I’m too tired to keep going, I will catch up tomorrow.” You say innocently enough, but alas tomorrow’s catching up never comes.

Well, hmm, what if I told you that there is a very simple way for you to visit those posts and not have to read one single word of it…. *GASP* You mean? Yes, dear reader, I have stumbled upon something that is going to help you break free from the repetitive, just going through the motions, someone save my eyesight from this constant reading way of life.

Can I get a drum roll please?
Meet SoundGecko:

“A text-to-audio transcribing service that lets you enjoy written content from around the web on the go without distraction. Be free from screens as you listen to articles by simply sending an email or pressing a button in your browser.”

SoundGecko homepage

And my dear readers, it is FREE. Yes, you read that correctly…free. You don’t have to sign up for anything if you don’t want to. You just go to the site and paste in the URL of the site you wish to listen to, type in your email and if a few minutes you will receive an email. In the email will be a link that you click to listen to the post. (See photo below) If you do decide to sign up for an account, there are more things you can do with the site.

Of course the voice that reads to you could very well put you to sleep; it’s not an operatic melody of flowing vernacular, mind you. It’s more of a mundane monotone version of a bad 1950’s robot movie. However, it is understandable and it’s fairly error free.

In my test of the product, (of course I tested it. I would never suggest anything to anyone without trying it first for myself.) I read along on my blog post as I was listening to it. The post I tested it on had the word url and of course, the voice reading didn’t recognize it so he said “youearl”. That made me chuckle! He also included the “Copyright InJensMind” that I put under my photos. And he read the ending where my share buttons are, “It’s not absurd to spread the word.” That was nice because it sort of reminded me I should share the post that I enjoyed so much. (Clearly I enjoyed it, I wrote it. LOL) Also he said “Like” and how many likes I received on said post. Not a big deal really, in my opinion.  Click here to hear the post I tested it out on.

Copyright InJensMind This is what the email from SoundGecko looks like.

I look forward to more from this company. I was impressed at how easy and much faster it was than reading alone. Because I usually have 10 or more tabs open and any time one of them flashes with a message or makes a sound, my ADHD kicks in and my fingers have clicked on another tab before my brain can tell it to stop and finish reading the post. Now I can gallivant all over the net and still hear the post. Amazing, right? Imagine the things you could be doing while listening to a post instead of staring with weary eyes at the computer screen… the possibilities are endless.

I almost expected it to read my comments as well. It didn’t. I think that would be a nice addition though, that way you could join in the conversation if you like and already know what others have asked or said. Which would keep you from looking redundant or too busy to read comments on top of the 2000+ word article. And since most blog readers don’t comment anyway, not having the ability to comment directly without returning to the post isn’t a huge problem. At least it isn’t for me. I’d much rather get zero comments than to get a bunch of quick not thought out, “I don’t know what to say” or “This was a great post” or “ Click here for the latest Viagra tablets at 75% off” comments. Those type of comments almost make you wonder why you bother to spend so much time thinking, typing, and editing your post if they don’t have anything outstanding and meaningful to add to it. Then you remember you do this for you and not for them, which brings you right back to lack of comments not really being an issue.

SoundGecko gets my approval, will it get yours? Try it out now and let me know what you think.

Don’t forget to “like” them on Facebook and follow them on Twitter. Or me for that matter, add me on Facebook and follow me on Twitter, you can find my links in the tabs or sidebar.

Smells Like A Friday Moment

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A Friday ritual. A single photo — no words — capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.

“This Moment” is a ritual found on Life inspired by the Wee Man adopted from SouleMama which was introduced to others by Sarah-Jane, of Almost There.

I was asked to participate in this by Anna Sides, of The Other Side of Anna and the other great blogging members of the Facebook group Blogplicity.

If you find yourself touched by a moment and would like to participate, post your picture on a Friday and leave your link in the comments section.

Copyright InJensMind 8/17/2012

Get To Know Me

 

Copyright: InJensMind 8/16/2012

There have been many people lately, who have expressed an interest in getting to know me better. So yesterday on Facebook, I announced that I will be doing a special blog post. In the post, I will be disclosing the things that you all really want to know about.  Anything that you’d like to know about me, now is the time to ask.

Here’s how you will be involved:

  1. You are allowed to ask me up to 3 questions. These questions can be personal or about my writing, you choose.
  2. I will be connecting your questions with your names, social networks, and blog url’s. Please include all the links you would like promoted in with your question.

This is an excellent and free opportunity for you to get to know me and to promote your blog, YouTube channel, fanpages, etc…

If by chance you are more of a shy type and really want to ask something but, you don’t want the world-wide web to know it was you who asked, simply tell me when you send me your question and your name will be withheld.

Now for the details:

  • You can contact me via Facebook, just send me a private message. (you can do this without being my friend if you’d like) Click here.
  • Or you can email me directly at injensmind@gmail.com
  • Or even still, you can use the contact button on my Facebook fanpage.

 

All that I ask for in exchange is, if you participate in this by asking a question, that you go and “like” my Facebook page, For Jen’s Sake. That way you will be notified when I answer your question. Simple enough, huh…

I look forward to all of your questions and hope you all have a wonderful and blessed weekend.

 

Becoming Free Thinkers In A Society Of Sheeple

 

Zazzle bumper sticker

In a society of Sheeple, we spend more than 90% of our lives doing what we are told. We follow because we are taught to follow, not to lead. No matter what we decide to do with our lives, we will always have someone who is telling us what to do, when to do it, why we need to do it, how to do it, and where we should be doing it.

We are taught from the moment we can talk until we start Kindergarten, that asking questions is the best way to learn about something that we do not know. At some point while we are in school, that awareness changes from it’s ok to ask into shut up, sit down, do as I tell you, and stop asking questions. It becomes the life-long version of; “Because I say so, that’s why.”

 
Every parent dreams of having a unique child, right up until that precise moment when the teacher sits you down and explains that your child just won’t behave like the other children. You are told that your child will never be able to function in a healthy society when they are adults because they cannot seem to follow along like the other children do. You are then advised to get your child checked out by a medical professional to be medicated for the mental defect your child has that keeps them from doing as everyone else does. With or without a medical diagnosis or pharmaceutical medication; your child is now officially labeled as “different”, “unable to follow simple directions”, a “trouble-maker”, “difficult”, “learning impaired”, and “unteachable.”

I know this scenario very well from my own childhood. I could never really follow along with what everyone else was doing. The teachers always said that I had potential but, that I was basically a dreamer. They insisted that I will never accomplish anything worthwhile, because I just couldn’t do what I was told to do. My father’s word for that was, “stupid”. He didn’t realize, much like the teachers who were trying to teach me, that I wasn’t a follower. I couldn’t learn like the others because some of what they were teaching me I knew was bullshit. Some of what was being taught wasn’t advanced enough and I got bored easily because of it. And some of what was going on had to do with the terrorism I was experiencing at home on a daily basis. In other words, for me to be able to succeed in learning I needed to be taught the things I didn’t know by someone who was willing to learn what they didn’t know from me.

 

When I had my own children I did what every other parent does, enrolled them in a public school. My daughter started in Kindergarten and my son started in Pre-school. I was the epitome of school-mom. I drove them to school and picked them up every day, from the exact moment my daughter got bullied on the bus by a much bigger and older girl who wouldn’t be reprimanded by the school or bus driver because well… there was no way the driver could possibly watch the road and see the bullying that was going on, so it never happened. I went up to the school every day at lunch to eat with my children and their friends. I participated in all field trips and events pertaining to the education of my children. I sent snacks for their classes, hand-made snacks… that was allowed in that school, not like in so many others these days. I helped my children with homework every single night before bed. I worked just as hard if not harder in school as my own children did.

It didn’t take long to find out that my daughter had a reading problem because she had a seeing problem. From birth she had an eye that is blind. (Now they know it to be astigmatism, lazy, a congenital cataract, smaller jagged pupil along with the blindness.) Everything she “sees” from that eye is too blurry to really make anything out. So after eye exams, she got glasses. The glasses did nothing to help her reading problem though, so she was enrolled in a special class to help her with reading. Yet, Kindergarten through 2nd grade she struggled to read. Come to find out, right before we moved out of that school district, that her reading teacher was a nasty ogre of a woman who enjoyed bullying children by yelling at them for not being able to read. When I brought this to the attention of the principal and the teacher herself, they decided to go down the road that I was a bad parent because my daughter had missed several days of school that year. Why did she miss several days? Because she had recurrent bouts of tonsillitis which eventually led to the doctor removing her tonsils. Every single absence my children had were excused, since I had the medical documents to prove it. But, when it came down to the wrong doing, the school preferred to blame someone else instead of addressing the real issue, a teacher who doesn’t belong teaching.

This did not deter me though, because I still had faith in the school system. After all, I went to school and I graduated from school. It is what everyone does, right? It wasn’t until we moved to another state and both of my children were diagnosed with disabilities did another issue come up. We were new to the area and new to these illnesses my kids were diagnosed with (just finding out my daughter had Hashimoto’s and my son was moderately/severely deaf) and therefore we needed to have them seen by specialists. Well, needless to say to any parent who has dealt with a disabled child, seeing specialists in a Children’s Hospital is a very time-consuming event. And since these hospital’s see an entire city’s worth if not state’s worth of children, the appointments are limited and you go when they tell you or you don’t get seen period.

Once again I found myself being harassed and blamed by a school official for my children’s absences. Although there I stood with doctor documentation in my hands, I was still threatened and bullied by someone who I am supposed to trust to teach my children. I had had quite enough of that after only 2 months of them being in school, and considered homeschooling. While in the local library researching the state laws on homeschooling, I ran into a woman who homeschools and wrote a book. It was a sign! After speaking with her, my mind was made up and my children were pulled out of public school the following Monday by certified letter.

It took less than a year for me to find out that my children and I were not the “schooling” kind. And the longer I chose to teach my children in my home, the more my family, who was not living anywhere nearby to us nor knew anything about what we were doing or going through, worried. Why? Not so much because I wasn’t a licensed teacher, although that did come up occasionally, but because it was not the way that the world expects you to do things. I was stepping far outside of the norm and that scared the Hell out of them. However, the more I researched, read, and practiced this “unusual” way of learning; the more I found out that we were not a homeschooling family but actually what is known as an unschooling family. My beliefs about how a person learns, fell into the unschooling category perfectly, unlike the more religious reasons most homeschoolers have. So instead of forcing my children to learn subjects by grade level or solely what I believed in, we starting turning everything in our daily lives into a learning experience.

The more I unschooled my children and myself, the more we thrived in learning and as a family. In aiming to teach my children, I have been taught. We learn everything that we’ve always wanted to learn and we do it together, each one of us interchanging between student and teacher. We don’t believe that you can only learn certain things at a certain age. If we want to know about something, we learn about it. There are no whines, complaints, or not doing of the work because it isn’t work and it isn’t school… it is life, our life, and not one second of it is wasted. Every single moment of every single day spent learning freely without restrictions and timetables. Learning all that the world and life has to offer us by becoming free thinkers in a society of Sheeple.

After The Storm Passes

Google Image. Vinyl designs by CJ

My last post really had several people concerned. I appreciate the comments and the messages and those of you who basically got a slap in the face wake-up call with that post.

I assure you all though that I am fine, the kids are fine, and my dogs and husband are all fine. No pun intended. Seriously, unlike my last post states we really are fine.

 

This isn’t the first time that some of you have seen me fly off the handle like I did yesterday. In fact, many of you who have known me for some time now, know all too well how hot-tempered I can be. And although I was angry when I wrote the post I assure you, I have had time to calm down and work through those overwhelming feelings and emotions.

 

I also want to say that, unfortunately anger is an emotion that must be expressed on occasion or it will do more damage later on to others and ones own self. It is a very explosive and extremely volatile emotion and as you all know, it had built up like a pressure cooker inside of me. If I hadn’t closed the lid so tightly and let some of the steam escape occasionally, I may have been able to stay calmer and have kept a cooler more level head instead of blowing up like an atom bomb.

 

The post I wrote, wasn’t meant to upset those who really do care and check in on me frequently. It wasn’t aimed at any one person specifically. In a nutshell, it was directed at society as a whole. It was a “Wake the fuck up people you aren’t the only ones struggling!” type of message. Which I admit, I most certainly could have portrayed my feelings in a less demanding and ignorant manner.

 

We have become a society of immensely selfish people. We allow our lives to be entirely consumed with so much trivial bullshit that we cannot possibly think of anyone else and how their lives may be turning out for them. We quickly jump from one thing to the next without stopping and realizing that even though we have moved on from the sadness and empathy we had once felt for a friend, that maybe they were still not over the thing that they had went through. (Example: my sister’s death and my family’s health and financial situation.) We are so quick to forget about our grieving friends feelings and if they don’t constantly remind us about their situation, it slips to the back of our minds. The more time that passes the more we believe they are no longer hurting and it not only shocks us but often time annoys us that they haven’t “moved on” yet. But, that is not how some of us see it and those of us who are on the receiving end often times get angry because our friends have left us stuck in time when they swore they’d always be there. We feel abandoned and neglected. As time continues to pass, we often feel alone because the world just kept on spinning while we stood there dizzy in need of assistance. We don’t want to ask for help because we don’t want to be a bother to anyone and we get angry because no one ever needed to ask us for help we just did it. It becomes a vicious cycle that many don’t break until after they have lost many people from their lives. And even then it may still  continue.

 

Don’t get me wrong, I’m just as guilty as everyone else. As I was writing my last post I knew exactly what it was I was saying, feeling, and projecting. I also know it came off very childish in a whole temper-tantrum sort of way. I was screaming for attention and oh boy did I get it.

 

But not only in the ways you might imagine. Letting all of that anger and emotion out really helped me to see things in a different light. I realized after writing it that I am not the same person I was before as I thought I was in my post. I’m really not that depressed, weak-minded, angry person anymore. I know you are shaking your head at me, like wtf is she talking about…the post was full of depression, anger and weakness.

 

Yes, it surely was. I thought it was all that built up stuff coming out and once I could calm down enough to reflect I realized how much of the past 7 months were actually anything but anger, depression and weakness on my part. Regardless if I was truly feeling and dealing with the emotions or just flitting back and forth between them, I did have many more happy and content days than I did depressed and angry days.

 

I have gone through a lot in the last year and a half and my writing reflects that. I know I don’t need to tell any of you who have been by my side throughout it all. What I learned in this experience was that I can no longer hold things in and just wait hoping they go away. I also learned that I have a good handful of online people, be it family or friends, who support me more than I was aware of or wanted to admit. Also, that I am a writer and as such I have to write. It doesn’t matter if I am a paid writer or if I am nothing more than a blogger with a never realized dream… I HAVE TO WRITE! So, the best thing for me to do is give you all smaller doses of my mind more frequently, instead of bombarding the world with larger doses all at once like I did yesterday. Not only is it better for all of you it is better for me too.

 

So thank you all for bearing with me through my ups and downs. Thank you for reaching out to me and letting me know you care. And above all, thank you for always allowing me to be who I am, even when I am not on my bestest behavior.  Nothing in this world feels better than the love I have felt in the last couple of days from those of you who prefer me just the way I am. I can now move on with my head held higher just knowing that I do indeed have  several shoulders to lean on if I just reach out for them.

 

Oh and before I end this, I’d like to give a special shoutout to my new readers and followers. Thank you for joining me on what was a very difficult day in my life. I hope you stick around and continue to ride with me on this crazy ride that is my life.

I’m Fine. Really.

One misconception people have of me is that I don’t pull any punches when it comes to verbalizing the way that I feel. I say many things that others wouldn’t say, that is true. But, I do pull punches, I do censor myself, I do internalize a lot of how I feel until it’s been pushed far enough down where I can go out in public again and not be an utterly incomprehensible asshole… so to speak.

 

But, because I do this I end up feeling more stressed out than I should. And right now I am in Stressville eating from the Stress Buffet and praying that nobody says a fucking word to me for fear that I may completely lose my mind, my temper, and my lunch! However, since so many really want to know what is on my mind… let me break it down for you.

 

I’m freaked out. I didn’t expect to fall back into a depression. I didn’t expect to go from being an optimist who helped others rise up into the light, to just rapidly decline back into what it was I had fought so hard to get out of the beginning of last year… a dark abyss of nothingness and despair.

 

Last year; despite everything that happened,  I was optimistic. I was hopeful. I was happy. My happiness hasn’t entirely been depleted yet but my optimism and my hopefulness have just about been sucked right the hell out of me.

 

I had pushed through grieving my sister rapidly, choosing to bury myself in writing instead of dealing with that whole ordeal. Then there was the family and friends I lost. I shook that off and kept on my journey, never looking back. Then in October, there was my breast issue. Again, I picked up the pieces and ran off towards my vision.

 

Despite all I had gone through in a short period of time, my descent didn’t officially begin until the week of New Year’s Eve when I spent 3 days in the hospital with my daughter. She was very ill and it was then when I began to notice how very mentally exhausted I was. It was when I had time to really think about life and death and everything in between. I had a chance to slow down enough to realize what was going on with me. And of course, I was worried out of my mind about losing my daughter.

 

Everything I had went through had all managed to catch up with me and it had multiplied into something that I clearly wasn’t prepared for or capable of handling. And I’m sorry to say it has cracked me in a way that nothing else ever could.

 

I had aspirations, dreams, goals… I thought every post I wrote on Yahoo, Technorati, my blog, and guest posts were leading me to being a paid writer. I seriously believed for a good minute there that I was talented enough to make it. But, talent doesn’t pay bills when there isn’t enough work experience to get you a job. And I just don’t have that experience and now I’m afraid I don’t have that drive anymore either.

 

I cracked beyond repair at the beginning of the year when I got paid for my hard work from Yahoo. They paid me a whole $1.42 for the 8 articles I had written. My friends told me not to let payment determine my worth as a writer. But, as much as I wanted to believe them I couldn’t get past my husband’s laughter about how even Yahoo thought I was a bad writer.

 

I know, I know… I shouldn’t put so much value into words. But I am supposed to be a writer and writers use words and words are supposed to mean something very important, if they didn’t what would we need writers for?

 

The more I focused on those words the more depressed I became and my blog posts dropped off to maybe one or two a month. Because at this point who really cares if I write or if I don’t? I know I surely don’t.

 

I tried to stay strong. I made it through my sister’s deathaversary. But, more and more things began to bother me. My kids had countless doctor appointments going on and those brought up old feelings about why they were disabled. Then my husband ended up in the hospital for heart palpitations because he was completely irresponsible and drank 3 energy drinks in one freaking day. And financial issues kept resurfacing. Not enough money and too many bills, not enough food and too many mouths, not enough work and a vehicle that kept breaking down…

 

And through this all, I smiled and laughed and kept pushing it all further and further down. I kept pretending it was all ok. I kept insisting that I was strong enough to handle it all and everyone else’s problems too. I didn’t want to bother anyone with my problems but I took on their problems. I didn’t want to fall back into the type of person who feels bad for what is happening in their life when so many have it worse. And I know there are many out there worse off than I. Truth is though… it has been pretty bad for my family too, and the people around me have really pissed me off.

 

I have kept as much of my emotions and feelings to myself as I could throughout this entire year. I looked on the bright side as much as I could. But, all of these people with their bullshit and their “woe is me” and their “oh if only I had this”… They don’t even realize how much better they have it than my family does right now at this moment and how badly I wanted to tell them to their face. But, I didn’t and I haven’t and now I’m becoming one of them by complaining. Uff! But, I don’t care because I need to let it all out so…

 

My car died just about 4 years ago. There are no roadtrips, no vacations, no going out…I only get outside of the house when I grocery shop, which is at night once a month or less, or when the kids go to the doctor, or when one of us ends up in the hospital, or once a summer for the Festival of Nations… oh and last week we got a special trip to the Science Center. Wooo, one extra day this year that we haven’t had in 4 fucking years. My friends have either removed themselves from my life or don’t have time or live too far or don’t care or whatever they have going on. I live in a bad neighborhood. And I do mean bad, so it’s not like my kids and I can just go a-walkin’ outside and enjoy the scenery. Noooo, we get to sit inside and wait… Wait for the day when my husband (who is never home except to sleep a few hours) to have enough money to do things with us or let us go out and do things. Because to him money means power and respect and love, I guess. So because I have none to offer him I am not top priority.

 

Speaking of money, I haven’t been shopping in 4 years. I haven’t had new clothes in 4 years. I am lucky to go out to eat 4 times a year, my kids birthday’s, mine (if my husband feels like being nice to me that day) and my husband’s. (sometimes) Grocery shopping is a nightmare, I never have enough money to buy things I’d like to make, so we stick to simple and cheap recipes. Here’s another little thing that has me on edge. I quit smoking in October and not only do I now have more issues breathing but, I gained 30 pounds as well. Isn’t that great???!!! Who knew that smoking was actually de-stressing me? I guess I do now, huh…

 

Oh and while we are on stressing about weight, here’s something that keeps me awake at night. My son’s doctors are harassing me because my son isn’t at a normal weight for his age. I’ve done all I can to get my son to lose the weight; changed his diet, put him on an exercise plan. But, despite my efforts he just doesn’t understand that if he doesn’t lose the weight the state will take him away from us. How do you like that? My husband who also was told to drop weight, refuses to listen and continues to buy foods that shouldn’t be in the house. And me? Well I can’t do shit about it, short of divorcing him and moving to Alaska, or stay up all night and day guarding the refrigerator. Because lord knows I am already not sleeping anyway so why even bother trying anymore.

 

My husband and I are nothing more than roommates now. He is on the couch and I am in the bed with my daughter who hasn’t left my side since I was in the hospital in Oct. Apparently, the idea of losing me scared her so deeply that she cannot be away for me more than 5 minutes at a time since then. I spent my whole life protecting my children from the scary things in life and my daughter ends up worrying about me. That screws with me more than I can explain.

 

And as if there wasn’t enough going on, my husband had the bright idea to bring home another dog. Only this dog has major issues from being abused when she was a puppy. Now she is over a year old and still paranoid, still barks at my husband who clearly she doesn’t like, she still sleeps near me, lays on me because I am her salvation. She isn’t training at all for me. I’m losing my mind over this dog because I don’t know how to help her. She just won’t leave my side for anything. And clearly I am selfish and an asshole for wanting some space and time alone.

 

So here is the final kicker. My 9 year old pitbull, Rosko has been sick. I’m worried this could be the last of his life. My husband being the person he is may or may not take him to the Vet. And if the Vet suggests a treatment that we can’t afford well I get to sit there again with one of my babies in my arms and watch him die.

 

I am stressed beyond the imagination and meaning of the word. Yet, I get to sign on to my social networks, where I go to get adult conversations (that I don’t get from my husband or anyone else in my day to day offline life) and to clear my mind of all the shit going on in my life for a brief time… and I get to see half of the people on there complaining about how “bad” they have it. OMFG, really???!!!! Ugh. And if I say something about how shitty I feel well then I get to be told how dramatic I am being and bla bla bla… Because if things were so bad for me I’d have posted it so they’d all know, right???

 

So I drop to my knees throw my hands up towards the stars and scream, “WHY ME???” And the answer comes back…Because this is my great fucking life. This is the part of my life I don’t talk about, the part that my enemies love, and my friends ignore. The part that keeps me awake at night in tears. So please, if you would can you tell me once again how bad your life is going for you?  Because I’m fine. Really. Aren’t I always?

My Wedding’s Quinceañera

15 years ago (tomorrow), on my then 22nd birthday; my fiancé decided it would be the right time to get married. Clearly 3 years into a relationship that had already produced a daughter, was the perfect time to tie the noose… err I mean the knot.

It’s not like either one of us didn’t want to be married. Hell, we were already living as husband and wife that entire time anyway. It’s just… there were bills to be paid and a child to feed… If you really want to know the truth, we were doing our part in saving the planet by not creating superfluous paper. Sounds funny I know but, eh, it’s the least we could do for our children’s future, right?!

But seriously though, the reason’s we both had; although looking back I’m not so sure it was a “we” thing, were our reason’s and ours alone. Nobody, no matter how important they thought their opinion was, had the right to tell us when we should get married. Of course, that didn’t stop them. 37 years later in my life and those same people still haven’t stopped trying to manipulate and control me and my life. SMH!

Anyway, back to the day at hand… July 17th, my 37th birthday/wedding’s Quinceañera . Aww, I feel like I should throw it a huge party while wearing a bright multi-colored billowing dress and be surrounded by a bunch of drunken people, that may or may not be my family, and they will be gyrating and partying like it’s 1999. Because if there is one thing my anniversary/birthday is lacking, is the extravagant publicly humiliating celebration of leaving behind the innocence of childhood and diving head first off the deep end straight into the abyss of womanhood. *SIGH*

I have yet to figure out what it was that ran through my husband’s head the day he decided to forever taint my birthday with a wedding anniversary. I’m pretty certain that it was the countless bottles of booze that he ingested on the regular, but that is just too obvious an answer to be the correct one. So it must be something more diabolical; like say…I don’t know, the satisfaction he gets from knowing that I will never have another day for the rest of my life that is totally just about me! That sounds a lot more like the evil drunk I have spent my entire adult life with.

Or it could be that he was just trying to be what every woman dreams of… Prince Charming! Oh hell… now I feel bad for calling him names and being angry every single year for the last 15 years.  Way to go Jen, you fucking Romance Nazi!!!

Copyright InJensMind DO NOT COPY OR REPRODUCE July 17, 1997 @Shalimar Wedding Chapel Las Vegas, NV

What Is Really InJensMind?

What is really InJensMind? Absolutely freaking nothing! HA…

I can’t even begin to tell you all how overwhelmed I feel at times. My mind is always racing 100 m.p.h. except for the times when it is up to 200 m.p.h. which is usually when I am trying to sleep. I’ve come to notice something about myself recently and well I can’t help to wonder if it is just me or is there something else. Something… deeper, that is going on.

My brain is fried. You know like the egg in the skillet in the old 80’s anti-drug campaign commercials. You have no idea how much I despise eggs let alone a fried one inside my skull. But, it is true, my memory is kaput. I mean… Sure, I can remember certain things, i.e. my shitty childhood, birthdays, every single inch of every single building/house I have ever stepped foot in. Because who wouldn’t kill to own that delightful and mind-blowing skill!?! Can’t remember where I parked the car but, don’t fret I can envision with exceptional detail, every aisle in the grocery store without stepping foot in it. Humph! But, what I cannot remember is, have I ever told someone this story before? What did I eat for breakfast? Who is that person that keeps messaging me, have we spoken before? Where’d I put my cellphone? When was the last time I took a shower? Did I take my pills today?

I’m seriously surprised I can even finish a post. LOL It’s comical but, still it really isn’t. There are many things that I can’t seem to recall. Tiny inconsequential things but, many things.  An entire lifetime of things. I’m not sure if this is some kind of premature Alzheimer’s, my insulin resistance issue, a brain tumor, caffeine/sugar/carb overload, lack of refreshing sleep at night, being married for nearly 19 years, never leaving my house to socialize with anyone who doesn’t bark or was grown inside of my womb, a freakish Zombie brain eating accident, the lack of mind-blowing sex (oh wait, that wouldn’t be helpful whatsoever… or would it!?!) or just years of blocking out traumatic details to the point I don’t know anything other than my name. And even that is iffy at this moment. What’s my name? No really, what’s my mother****ing name? Sorry, I had a former rapper flashback.

All I know is, this is really beginning to bother me. Maybe, I should see someone about this. In the meantime… can someone give me Dr. Frankenstein’s number? I’m sure he has a few extra brains just lying around unused. Ooo EEEEgor, ver eeee’s meeee brain? Coming Master!!!

NaPoWriMo Day:17 Latin Lover

His dark tousled hair
fell lightly over his tan shoulders
not too long
and not too short
but just right for a
latin lover.

He flashed a pearly white smile
and winked his dark chestnut-colored eye
and she swooned.

She reached out her hand
touching his.
He grabbed a hold of her tightly
kissing her with the passion
she had always dreamed of.

They fell into each others arms
on the sandy beach
not too fast
and not too slow
but just right for a
latin lover.

She laid cuddled beside him
it was just like a dream
he told her te quiero
her body wanted to scream.

She opened her eyes
searched through the night
her lover was gone
he was not in her sight.

She wanted to cry
about this horrible nightmare
but instead she looked up at the stars
and waited for her
latin lover.

Don’t forget to visit, share, and comment on these following poets pages as well:

Sweepy Jean Explores the (Webby) World
Lyric Fire
AscendingTheHills
142 Books
Sulekha Rawat: Memoirs

To create…
memoirs of a homemaker
One Time Pad
Thoughts Of Beauty In The Stillness Of Dawn…
EllieBloo
Chris Galvin
Poetry, Prose, Art and other Creative Things
Stephen Kellogg’s Blog
Turning Paige 

NaPoWriMo Day:15 A Spicy Encounter

Her eyes
a deep oceanic blue
glazed and fixated
on something off in the distance
something only she could see.

Saliva pooled in her mouth
forcing her to swallow
repeatedly.

Beads of sweat
began to form across her
wrinkle-free browline.

She inhaled deeply
held the air
inside her
for a few seconds
then quickly she exhaled
every bit of it out.

She begins to sweat profusely
hyperventilation occurs.

Suddenly she screams out
OH MY GOD!!!

Right at the exact moment
she can no longer take it
she lifts her delicate
yet clammy hand
across her beautifully flushed face
wiping away all traces of sweat.

She refocuses
trying to control her breathing.

But before she can fully recover
she opens her devil red
painted lips
and takes another bite
of that enormous
crisp
bright green
jalapeno.

Sealing her fate yet again
for an encounter of the spicy kind!

Don’t forget to visit, share, and comment on these following poets pages as well:

Sweepy Jean Explores the (Webby) World
Lyric Fire
AscendingTheHills
142 Books
Sulekha Rawat: Memoirs

To create…
memoirs of a homemaker
One Time Pad
Thoughts Of Beauty In The Stillness Of Dawn…
EllieBloo
Chris Galvin
Poetry, Prose, Art and other Creative Things
Stephen Kellogg’s Blog
Turning Paige 

NaPoWriMo Day:14 Unhappy Ending

It was the last straw
The end
One fight too many
Arms desperately reached out
She dropped to her knees
Makeup and tears streaming
Down her aged face
She squealed
Grasping at the deadened
Stale air between them
Pleaseeee
Don’t leaveee meee
As the door slammed behind him
As it had done daily
For more than 20 years
She lay on the floor
In the fetal position
Heaving and crying
Gasping for air
Minutes turned into hours
Hours felt like days
When she could no longer cry
When her tears had finally dried up
She picked herself up
And walked into her room
Climbed into the queen sized empty bed
The dogs all deceased and gone
The children
No longer kids
Had families of their own
Packed up and moved away
A long time ago
All that was left was a house full of silence
And painful memories
She stared at the wall
Full of photos
She was in none of them
She was where she had always been
Behind the camera
Behind the scenes
The life on hold
As she uplifted
The lives of everyone else
Now there she was again
Alone
Tired
Tossed aside
Left to rot
Teardrops falling once more
And just as it had always been
There was nobody left
To wipe them away
So she slipped
Further and further
Back into the abyss
Into the one place
Where the pain
Could no longer exist
It was the end
Her unhappy ending

Don’t forget to visit, share, and comment on these following poets pages as well:

Sweepy Jean Explores the (Webby) World
Lyric Fire
AscendingTheHills
142 Books
Sulekha Rawat: Memoirs

To create…
memoirs of a homemaker
One Time Pad
Thoughts Of Beauty In The Stillness Of Dawn…
EllieBloo
Chris Galvin 

NaPoWriMo Day:7 A Sábado de Gloria Memory

Animated faces in a crowd
people of all ages gather around.
One of the best days en mi memoria
was this very day, Sábado de Gloria.

The Sun shined down, warming everyone
then someone cried out, “Look he has a gun.”
But this type of gun posed not a deadly threat
its main intent was to get, the entire crowd wet.

The children joined in, their parents too
gallons of water into the air flew.
The great water event started before noon
and continued all day ‘til the emerge of the moon.

Oh what a glorious Saturday
when everyone came together to play.
The moral of this story my dearest friend
is of harmony and bliss when we let love transcend.

Don’t forget to visit, share, and comment on these following poets pages as well:

Sweepy Jean Explores the (Webby) World
Lyric Fire
AscendingTheHills
142 Books
Sulekha Rawat: Memoirs

To create…
memoirs of a homemaker
One Time Pad
Thoughts Of Beauty In The Stillness Of Dawn…
EllieBloo
Chris Galvin 

NaPoWriMo Day: 4 The Wedding Blues

The bride-to-be gets ready
the groom is nowhere to be seen.
He’s off getting drunk
as he always has,
wondering if he is making a mistake.
The bride-to-be’s mother
helps her to get ready.
Pastel colored shadow
swept across sad and confused
distant eyes.
A baby girl all grown up with a baby girl of her own.
No longer needs her mommy
or does she?
The bride-to-be slips on her white wedding dress
it’s cheap, from Ross
no frills, no lace,
just a plain
white colored dress.
Ill-fitted and a mess.
The bride-to-be looks in the mirror
she hates what she sees.
A sad, depressed blob of a woman.
Unrecognizable to the woman’s memories.
Those eyes,
once alive and full of sparkle
now dark, dead
full of pain and disappointment.
She waits,
scanning the parking lot
for the “man of her dreams.”
Finally,
as the sun begins to set
her prince charming shows up
drunk,
nothing new to their daily life together.
He reeks of alcohol and a future filled with empty promises.
Tears flow down the bride-to-be’s cheeks
as she watches her soon to be groom get dressed.
For one moment their eyes lock
and they both know instantly
their future will be fraught with more pain
more tears
more fights.
Maybe she should run away
maybe she should have listened to her parents
maybe she is making the biggest mistake of her young life
for nothing ever ends well that starts out this damaged.

Don’t forget to visit, share, and comment on these following poets pages as well:

Sweepy Jean Explores the (Webby) World
Lyric Fire
AscendingTheHills
142 Books
Sulekha Rawat: Memoirs

To create…
memoirs of a homemaker
One Time Pad
Thoughts Of Beauty In The Stillness Of Dawn…
EllieBloo
Chris Galvin 

Freedom For Father’s Day

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Father’s Day brings mixed emotions for me. One, for my kids who rarely see their dad because he is a workaholic; I guess if he is going to be an aholic I prefer it be work over alcohol. It would be nice if their dad realized that there is more to being a dad then providing a roof over one’s head. I’m certain one day he will grasp that idea but, the kids will be grown by then.

The other is for my father who is still alive but, I don’t call him or send him a card anymore for various reasons.

One reason being, he has disowned  me too many times to remember. Secondly, I don’t receive cards or calls on my “special” days including my birthday and neither do my kids; his grandkids. And lastly, I am just tired of trying to keep a relationship alive when it’s apparent he doesn’t care. Therefore, I have taken up the position of “You don’t know me then I don’t know you.” After all these years of trying what more can I do…

Am I wrong for this? I don’t believe I am wrong, I did my best most of my life to be a part of his life and in my opinion the road goes both ways. Yet, here I am, the one putting in the effort all the time. It just isn’t worth it to me to keep trying when it’s obvious I am not wanted in his life. I did the “Christian” thing; I forgave, accepted apologies and gave apologies but, did I get unconditional love back? No, I did not get back a fraction of what I put into the supposed father/daughter relationship. What we have here people, is a failure to reciprocate.

I’ve moved on now, there is nothing left to do but, move on and as my husband says; “Just say I love you and leave it at that.” (He can be a wise man sometimes.) I have bent over backwards to be included in the lives of people who swear they love me and my kids but, don’t actually know us. My kids have grandparents and they are a mystery to them. There are no phone calls, cards, or letters… absolutely nothing except, the occasional; “You know we love your kids” statement that I have heard during a phone call. Yet, still no effort is made on their part to be a part of their grandchildren’s lives. I have a hard time with this because I was taught that family is everything; how strange… because only certain family was ever included in our lives when I was growing up the rest were “disowned.” Well, looks like I too am a part of the “do as I want or be gone” side of the family. Thank God I believe that the most important family is my husband and kids or I might just be torn up about being exiled…

I can no longer accept such half-assed attempts from anyone, no matter who they are. It is one thing to be upset at me for whatever you believe I have done wrong but, to alienate children just because they are my blood is not only ridiculous it’s asinine and childish. One day my kids will be grown and in my opinion better off for not knowing people who didn’t take time out of their busy little fantasy isle lives to acknowledge them and love them.

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So my gift this Father’s Day is the gift of… freedom. I am freeing myself of annoyances, games and intolerable trivial nonsense and I am giving my father the freedom to never have to deal with me or mine ever again; which is clearly the greatest gift for any father who constantly disowns people like they were material possessions.

What I will not give though is my silence; I have spent too many years not saying what needed to be said and watched while those around me were verbally assaulted. I know for a fact that neither of my grandparents raised any of their children to be bullies or to deny their grandchildren just because they were mad at their children for something their child did as a child. In fact my grandmother not only accepted all her grandchildren she also accepted step-grandchildren and would take all of us during the summer to stay with her at her house. So I know very well her children were raised better than to “disown” anyone.

It’s time to grow up; the child is almost 36 years old now and if I am being judged as an adult for something I did as a child, well I guess you just aren’t as smart as you think you are. Everyone makes mistakes and when you say “I’m sorry” or “I forgive you” than that is where it ends. You don’t hold on to something that transpired 17 years ago. I am not the same person I was 17 years ago and it’s a shame that some people haven’t changed at all in that time. So I end this with; I love you and I wish you well but, I cannot keep being a part of such constant hatred and childishness anymore. God loves all of his children no matter what; I know those are big shoes to fill but, you might want to give it a try.

To all the dads out there… Happy Father’s Day, love your children unconditionally and treat them well so that one day they will remember the good things about you and pass them down to their children.

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I Became A Boy So I Could Play Baseball

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I am the oldest girl in my family; my father had three daughters and always yearned for a son.

Naturally, it became my job to carry out his fantasy. Believe me when I say, I would have much rather been taught how to be a girl but, it just wasn’t in the cards for me.

From the time I could walk I had a baseball in my hand, pretty strange for a little girl but, dad for some twisted reason needed me to play the son role.

My sister who was two years younger than me, got to play girl, in some ways I envy that but, in other ways I don’t. Since I was daddy’s little boy, I learned how to play sports like a boy.

There was no girl who played baseball like I played baseball. I could throw hard and far, I could hit any kind of pitch thrown at me and I could switch hit. Those of you who know nothing about baseball; switch hitting is when you hit right-handed then switch to hitting left-handed or vice versa. Being, ambidextrous, I have always excelled with either hand.

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As I got older I started playing softball because that was what “girls” played and even though I was good at it, it was not baseball. I spent my days practicing; throwing, catching and batting. Dad had a wooden bat I practiced with; it was heavy but, if I could swing that and hit the ball, just imagine what I would do with a light-weight aluminum bat.

Every weekend during the summer when dad would come home from work, we would go up to the park for baseball practice. Dad would pitch and I would hit and then we would switch. I could strike dad out several times while playing; my sports abilities were the only thing I received praise for.

The thing I can say about dad teaching me to play baseball is I played like a man; both dad and I could hit damn near any kind of pitch, including ones you would never swing at if you were playing in the Major League. If the ball was within arm reach we would swing at it. It was all in fun and kept our talent at maximum peak.

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One day the family went up to the park and played our usual game of baseball. I was pitching, my step-mom was catching, my sisters were in the outfield and dad was batting. He managed to hit a few of my pitches then all of a sudden, I throw this one pitch that maybe dad shouldn’t have swung at. In fact, I know he should NEVER have swung at that. Dad managed to tip the ball with the bat and we all stood shocked as the ball circled high in the sky and CRASHED right into the windshield of his car that was parked on the other side of the fence. It took a few moments and finally dad laughed; “Look what you did.” he told me. “What?! I didn’t hit it.” I replied. Dad never parked that close to the fence ever again.

 

I can honestly say this is a happy memory from my childhood and I am ok with being treated like a boy so I could have the excellent baseball playing skills I posess. There are many things I might change from back then if I could but, this gift I wouldn’t change for anything.

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The Days on Gary Ct.

Gary Ct. Google Maps

Some days I sit and see the connection friends have amongst themselves and I long for the days when I was surrounded by good friends. It’s inevitable; people, move on and friendships fall apart, not because of choice but, because we all become so busy with other things that we no longer find time to visit or call. Some of us will try and find time to at least comment on a friend’s Facebook status before getting swept back up in the tediousness of our lives. Continue reading

Life Is A Buffet

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I will never understand how life is a highway….don’t get me wrong I do love the song. I get the whole metaphor that life is the road or destination, we are the vehicle and we control or steer where we go……. yada yada yada.

But, what do we do on highways? We drive on them to destinations but, we speed. The whole purpose of a highway over that of a regular road is to cut down the amount of time we spend driving. It is not the scenic route it is the fast way. I can see how some people may prefer to speed through life but, nobody ever actually gets there any faster by speeding. Continue reading

Loving Adventure

Every moment I have shared with you
hasn’t always been the happiest
but, it has been an adventure.
An adventure that has lasted through many years
and also many tears.
Lasted through many days of laughter
and many times of pain.
You have kept me on my toes
and shown me what it is to live.
You have lifted me up
in times of crisis and great sadness.
In times of pure craziness
you never left my side.
Life with you has never been boring.
The very first time
we shared our first kiss
I knew it would be forever.
When you held my hand
I could tell that you felt the same way.
There was a passion
that sparked a fire
to this very day is still burning
Everyday there is a new feeling.
Feelings I wouldn’t have
if not for you.
I can’t imagine how my life would be
without you in it.
I don’t want to consider
how unfortunate my life would be
if i didn’t have you.
The days would be dark
darker than the deepest sea.
The nights would be long
longer than three lifetimes.
Time would stop completely in it’s tracks
and I would be lost
lonely and forgotten
forever
without you.
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This is the English version of Aventura Amorosa 

Oh Sh*t

Note: This poem was written on July 31, 1994. I was barely 19 years old. The titles back then were so simplistic. My words that I penned were usually painful and either full of rage or confusion.I had left my father’s home 2 months prior and found out the reason so many in my family have turn to alcohol as the kill all for deep rooted pain.

I’m feeling all this strife
everyday of my life.
My emotions are real tight
now every day becomes a fight.
My heart is filled with countless dread
and my worst enemy is in my head.
I look upon the things I’ve done
and every thing leads to my gun.
How could a person who has stayed so strong
through everything that has turned out wrong,
turn and lead the life I lead
and hope things will get better without the greed?
I ask myself questions every day,
how can I live and still find time to play?
I tell myself that nobody gives a shit
for people like me, who give up and quit.
As I have sat night after night drinking beers
it only makes me waste all the tears.
I’m scared of my life and the horror it brings
I’m tired of living with reality’s stings.
As I sit and start thinking, I don’t give a damn
I wonder exactly who the hell I am.
How a life of loneliness I have led as a child
could turn me into a monster of wild?
I keep thinking and wondering when will my day come,
the answer keeps coming…”When your life is done!”

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Resurrection

water beads descend
golden sun kissed happiness
a resurrection
(Homework Assignment-Haiku)

Our Family’s Gift

It was a few hours after I heard
about the horrendous thing that occurred.
My sister was sick they told her cancer
we waited a week for the real answer.
But on that day instead it was said
her heart had gave out and now she was dead.
On that night my house was cold as the snow
she must of knew I couldn’t let her go.
Her presence filled the room and gave me chills
I couldn’t sleep at all even with pills.
Afraid that she’d come to me in my dream
filling me with pain and making me scream.
I became colder, didn’t sleep that night
she may have been dead but, not out of sight.
My daughter could feel her just like I could
her body had failed but, her soul withstood.
My daughter asked, “Are you here now Aunt Jess?”
her body started moving motioning yes.
My daughter came to me, wondering what to do
I held her tight knowing she was sad too.
For a couple nights she slept in my bed
trying to keep spirits out of her head.
See it’s a gift passed down through our family
communicating with ghosts that other’s can’t see.
It gets quite exhausting, the constant drain
people don’t get it, they think we’re insane.
But, it doesn’t matter, we still live on
and keep sharing our house with souls from beyond.

Forever you shall be my "unconditional" love

I love my kids more then anything in this world or out of it for that matter. I could go my entire life without a single other person near me but, them. Nobody and I mean NOBODY will ever occupy that part of me like they can.

I am sure you will say, “All mother’s say that about their own kids.” No, ALL mothers do not say it, think it or feel, trust me when I say I know many a mother who is more consumed with the scent of her bodywash then that of her children. Sad world we live in isn’t it?!

I say this because as you know, we just celebrated my son’s 13th birthday on the 9th. As I sat with the kids all day waiting for their father to come home, the fires of Hell were visible throughout my entire body. I swear you could not only feel the heat coming off me but, see the red glow just looking for an escape route. 11:30 pm we took my son to eat at Denny’s for his birthday. No cake, no gift, just a lousy ass meal from a second-rate restaurant. I mean they’re ok but, they aren’t birthday material, at least not in my Elizabeth Taylor imagination.

As we drove to Denny’s I became more calm. While ordering food and eating I was much calmer. By the time I went to sleep I was the Dali Lama.  My son was happy, with all he didn’t get, he was still happy!?! We came home, lied on the couch, cuddled and watched Paradise:Hawaiian Style, which my son picked out by the way. It is my firm believe that Elvis can calm the angriest of beasts. I know this to be true because when I am angry, there isn’t anything more fierce on this planet, hence my nickname, Leona. (Lioness)  Singing or acting; that man, who I am also distant cousins with,(my great-great grandma on my father’s maternal side is a Presley) can tame the wildabeast in me.

So today I decided, every birthday will now be a week long event, because this is not the first time and it won’t be the last where I am trying to make rice pudding out of birdseed to make up for their father’s lack of sensitivity and common sense. I came to the conclusion I would take my son to Marshall’s, which closes at 9:30 pm and my son can pick out his birthday gift. I called “it”, because at that moment I couldn’t possibly call him husband. Husband is a word you use for a man who actually does what husbands are suppose to do. I asked him, “Will you be home before 8 pm?” “Yes” he said. Now that right there is where my stupidity comes into play. You see I know damn well that he is never on time. He keeps absolutely no schedule and as soon as I have plans, well…. forget about it…. he will do whatever in his power to screw that up. He walked in the house at 9:30 pm, how convenient!!!! I gave him a verbal bashing, again my stupidity and raging temper came into play, and said I am taking my son to WalGreen’s.

Needless to say, my son got his birthday gift at WalGreen’s. But, he is happy. You read that right, MY SON IS HAPPY with his gift from WalGreen’s. Why am I shocked? I said I raised them right, didn’t I? I was happy with anything I got as a child too because I worked hard for what I got. My kids don’t have to do much, they are basically still spoiled just not with toys like when they were real little.

This is where I know that I am a great mom. This is the part where I get all teary-eyed, realizing I have broken the cycle of bad parenting in my family and sill managed to raise wonderful human beings. And despite the fact my husband can be an inconsiderate jackass of a man when it comes to birthdays and holidays,I know deep in my soul that his part in all of this just reinforces what I teach them. “There will always be people in your life like him”, I told the kids earlier this week. That is the truth, there will always be people in your lives who think they are more valuable, important, gifted, or whatever, than you. It is best to learn how to deal with them sooner rather than later. In otherwords, don’t live your life around their schedule, ignore them and keep living your life fully. People like “them” will one day have to face Karma and aren’t they going to be shocked when they find out the purpose of life wasn’t about money. Oh well, have fun with that.

My children use to get disappointed for their fathers lack of commitment, therefore I too would be disappointed for them. I was constantly picking up the pieces and “fixing” everything. I became exhausted from doing it on a daily basis. I never minded doing it because I am their mother and nobody is more important to me then they are. NOBODY!! I stand by that til my death. When I was in need…they were there. When I was alone…they were there. When I was happy…they were there. They have always been there as I have been for them. And no matter what happens or doesn’t happen, we love one another. That right there is what we call, UNCONDITIONAL LOVE!!  So I leave you with this insight…. keep the ones that matter close and all in life will be as it should be.

The Importance of Regular Check-Ups

Article first published as The Importance of Regular Check-Ups on Technorati.

My sister, a 33-year-old mother of four, who had just gave birth six months ago to twin boys, passed away on February 8th of this year. It came as a shock to us.

Jessica wasn’t in bad health, in fact she spent countless hours of her life prior to pregnancy in the gym where she was a personal trainer. When she wasn’t helping someone with their body goals she was obsessively working on her own. The worst of her habits were smoking on and off, not always eating appropriately and not seeing a physician regularly; mostly due to lack of insurance. Continue reading

Walking Unassisted into the New Year

Sometimes I sit and wonder why is it some people just need to be pushed. Why does someone have to push someone to live? You would think people would just wake up and live but, alot of people don’t, for whatever reason.


I, at one time, wasn’t living much basically existing, at least that was what I was told. But, I cannot agree with that. I mean, everyday I got up and handled my responsibilities. Now maybe what I do is not what you do but, I was living nonetheless. I wasn’t doing what I had dreamed of doing, but think about it, how many people really have it like that to go out and make their dreams come true?


Sometimes life comes in and takes over your life. Sounds funny I know but, that is the best way to describe it. While some people wait to be told how to live their lives some actually live them. Don’t allow someone to tell you what you are doing with your life isn’t considered greatness. Anyone moving forward in life is doing something great, because far too many people just lie dormant stagnating in self- loathing and self-pity.


I still wonder why of all the freedoms we have would you want someone to tell you what you should or shouldn’t be doing with your life. It just doesn’t make sense to me, are people just that scared to do anything or are they just brain dead zombies who need someone to follow?


No, I suppose we all can’t be leaders but, why wouldn’t you at least be the leader in your own life? I can’t help but, to feel sad when I think of all the people who won’t ever do anything great in their lives because they can’t even take control of their own life. Nobody starts off walking in life we all start by crawling, how long you chose to crawl though is up to you.


Make this year the year that you grab life by the horns and walk. Stop holding on to the table, or in other words those you depend on to tell you how to live, and walk without looking back. One day you may even find you can run as well. There is no time like the present to let go of your past, set your sights to the future and start your journey towards it.


As with myself, I have great hope for you this year, let’s make this life one to remember, even if it is just for ourselves. You can never accomplish anything worthy in life if you allow others to keep living your life for you.

Loyalty is Dead

Today’s topic…Loyalty.
I was taught many things in my life and loyalty was not one of them. I saw absolutely no examples of loyalty until I was a teen and made life-long friends.
Everything I have seen in my life has been, who can I use to get where I am going.

I am not this way, I have no idea where, why or how this happened. But, those who know me well know that I am loyal as the day is long. I support everyone with whatever I can give to them. But, there is a big difference between loyalty and using someone to get ahead. I see far too many people who have no idea what loyalty really means.

Let me give you a definition of loyalty.
Loyal–noun, plural -ties.
1. The state or quality of being loyal; faithfulness to commitments or obligations.
2. Faithful adherence to a sovereign, government, leader, cause, etc.
3. An example or instance of faithfulness, adherence, or the like: a man with fierce loyalties.

Adherence–noun
1. The quality of adhering; steady devotion, support, allegiance, or attachment: adherence to a party; rigid adherence to rules.
2. The act or state of adhering; adhesion.

Faithful adherence, steady devotion, support, allegiance, attachment; are all very important keywords.
Nowadays people don’t stay faithful to their spouse or religion let alone to the people they claim to be their friends. I am sure this isn’t a new problem, I am positive it goes back to the dawn of time. But, it has been bugging me more and more lately, as I pursue my dream to be a writer.

I have stood beside many people and helped them reach their goals in any way I am humanly apt to do. For instance, I have moved across the country and in and out of this country to support my husband who has moved us due to lack of work in the years we have been married. I have stayed at home and raised our kids because I support our beliefs that children should be raised by a parent not a babysitter or schools. I have stood by him when he was an alcoholic and helped him to free himself from the demons that showed themselves every time he drank. Through the drug addictions, through the depression, through good times and bad, sickness and health; I stood by him.

Why do you think marriage vows say, “In good times and bad, sickness and health, till death do you part?” That is loyalty, not love, but loyalty. God’s own words telling you that no matter what stay loyal to your partner. Because after all, who else do you have who will be as loyal to you as you are to them?

My loyalty, does not end with my marriage, it extends into my friendships and into all aspects of my life. So why do other people not grasp the concept? Nobody is saying you have to give up yourself for the benefit of others. But, where do your loyalties lie? Everything I see today suggests that the only time someone is loyal is when it is beneficial to them.

People have a tendency to be more loyal to a gas station then to the people in their lives. The biggest mistake being made is thinking that we are all individuals and we are not connected to everyone else in the world. No matter what your beliefs, religious or other; you have to realize that we are not here for self gain. Even the Bible tells you to “Love thy brother”. How can you have love without loyalty?

Consider loyalty like a partnership of sorts. You support someone and they support you, end result is you both get ahead instead of just one. But, people do not have patience anymore they want instant gratification; they want what they want right now. Even if they have to hurt and step on people to get there well that’s ok, because the end result is they are ahead. Only problem with this is the lack of realization that nothing in life is worth having if you don’t have people in your life to share with.

I know what you are going to say, nobody needs anyone to be happy, wrong. Look around you what do you see? You see people, every one of them working towards something and almost every one of them working for someone, i.e. wife, kids, or parents. If we were meant to be alone, why get married and have kids? At the end of the day, right, wrong, or indifferent, everyone is looking for someone to share their lives with.

Loyalty should not just be something you reserve only for your family or spouse. It is something that you should use daily with every single person you meet. In the USA, we say “United we stand, Divided we fall.” Did you think that only applied to war? That applies to life, every single living being.

There are people in this world that do things that you may think do not deserve to have loyalty. I bet, if you looked harder and deeper you would see that even the most horrendous person who has done the most vile things, was wronged in some way that helped to push them into what they do now. It all stems from loyalty, parents who divorce over whatever reason, be it affairs, lack of love or respect, abuse. Every single one of those things is about loyalty. Children abused and neglected, because a parent wasn’t loyal to their child but, to themselves. Now I am not saying that we should all run up and take a serial killer or rapist into our homes and love them to show them the loyalty they never knew. I am saying that somewhere along the way they were treated in a way that made them believe that any human life is indeed expendable.

You have to look at the future, the long haul, you can’t focus on today. Yes, we should live each day with vim and vigor and make the most out of our short lives. But, you must also keep in mind that everything you do affects someone. Even if you think you aren’t affecting anyone but, yourself trust me you are affecting someone else. Think of it this way. When you need someone who do you turn to? Whomever, you just named is loyal to you. Whether, it is a talk on the phone or helping you with whatever need you have. The question is, are you as loyal to that person as they are to you? Every small thing counts, infact I don’t even know why people count things to begin with. Why put a price on something as wonderful as a loyal person?

So, in ending, I say this… Loyalty is the most important thing in this life. Make sure you step up and do the right thing by all the loyal people in your life if you haven’t already. Be a fan of someone else’s life not just your own. Because you never know when that day will come when you will be the one who needs somebody. God forbid you have lost all the loyal people, just because you weren’t loyal to them.

Random Reasoning

 So In my infinite wisdom and ramblings I have decided I needed a blog to write about everything else in my life outside of the poetry,music, and books. Therefore, this blog was born. *Crowd goes wild, fist-pumping and wooting* Thank you, thank you. LOL. I would have so easily gone off-topic on my other blog, not a good look when you are trying to be a professional, or so I have heard. I don’t know, do professionals ever get off-topic? Or are they brains of steel when it comes to being focused on the topic at hand? I don’t really know any professionals to ask this question of. Most everyone I have ever known were Blue Collar (comedy, lol) workers,not so professional.


 I, myself, am very random at times, I couldn’t focus on a watch to be hypnotized. I can’t even focus enough to meditate, which makes converting to Buddhism quite the task really. I don’t know if it is just my lack of focusing skill or my over abundance of the I don’t care; but it truly is a miracle to get me to stay in one place on one thing for the length of the time to finish it. I was hoping when I grew up that would change but, it hasn’t so I guess we are both stuck with it. Honestly, if I look at it from your, the reader’s perspective, I can see how it may be an issue. But, then again, I can say at least I am never boring. LOL. I am a roller coaster of randomness and I show no signs of slowing down. So make sure you strap on your helmets and safety belts and just  kick back and enjoy the ups and downs of my never ordinary, never boring amusement park life.