You’re welcome to read this…. I don’t have much to offer other than fried chicken

The lie I tell most often? “I’m not good enough”…

And “I have fried chicken”… I don’t really have fried chicken …. What I do have is  this story instead.

I don’t really know where to start…  at the beginning of the school year I gave my son the silent treatment for the first time although… this is not the first time he has done this… so before you judge my tactics…. he is a master of his art…. Shaggy blonde hair… innocent blue eyes… Looking up at me through those glasses I saved up for so that he would not be unstylish in Jr. High… While standing next to his viola that I rent (not just one, but two .. so he doesn’t have to carry it to school everyday) … and a hand on his keyboard (nice keyboard)… “I Practiced mom” and I glance down at his voice recorder, that is obviously not plugged in… and no chair is pushed up to the keyboard… no music on the stand  … My eyes make their way to the bag that holds all of his music books (I couldn’t even begin to recall what I have invested in those) … zipped shut.. untouched… And look back at him and suggest he try a difference response… he chokes and sputters a little… I shut his door and leave him to his practicing … and head to my bedroom… I close my door, giving myself a timeout…  Before I drive him in complete silence to his lessons (155$ monthly) … and he doesn’t break… The conflict in his mind is almost palpable… He is not going to burst into tears and apologize… he is too old for that … and I am not going to let it go… Calmly I turn to him and tell him I am not friends with liars… and so he can’t expect me to be friendly… I tell him to think of his own punishment… and it better hurt… He suggests no Netflix for a month… I scoff at him… With his schedule (that he chooses, good god please don’t start on me for pushing him too hard… I promise you I don’t have that kind of energy… this is him) There is no TV… and he doesn’t care… He then tries video games… again I scoff and suggest we find a new home for his fish (poor things died this winter anyways)… Tears! oh… almost over the rim.. is he going to break? … nope… He suggests giving up his Halloween Plans… this seems feasible to me… A few tears roll over his cheek and we agree… I don’t launch into the whole single mom bit… it obviously didn’t work last time… I don’t launch into that everything in my life I do… I do for him… So he can have these lessons he wants so badly… And these instruments… Instead I inform him that he could possibly end up a serial killer… Yes yes… I did… And I asked him if it was easier to lie to me this time… was that sick feeling is his stomach easing up… and if so… what would he have to do to get it back… I told him guilt was his friend… and he better embrace it… because if he didn’t feel it… he would be capable of horrible things… this scared him a little…

This post was inspired by… if not really done as prompted by  Mama Kat’s prompt: List a lie that you consistently tell…. 

*cough*bullshit*cough*

It’s been a couple of weeks now… since the onset… quite a long run for me of not wanting to get out of bed… not being able to engage in conversation with my loved ones… feeling like I am looking at life through some kind of film.. or screen… or transparent shell…. Not sleeping … not really able to focus on anything… a book… a movie… a game..

…and I wanted to write about this pit  I seem to have willingly or unwillingly flung myself into… because it is on the list of cures… you know them right? call a friend… relax… take a bath… exercise… walk … work in the garden… paint… play music…These cures to fix these hours and hours of self loathing… personal berating… tears that come even when I sleep… which hasn’t been a lot… because whether this be depression… or anxiety… or insomnia… they are all lovers of each other… and are combined in one  mess… and it manifests itself onto others as words not meant to sounds that harsh… and frustrations… and exasperation… and unhappiness that simply aren’t real

….  So I sat here and prepared to get it all down and out… and talk about it… and then I looked around … and saw everyone else writing about it… The Bloggess as usual (usual=althefuckingways) … says it best … Even the Headologist tweets today about feeling so sad bastardy… and I found myself wondering what the hell is going on? I mean… the sun is shining in most areas… it is spring… the winter blahs are supposed to have dissipated…

And I thought maybe… just maybe… I should not dwell on it… and continue to breathe… and wait… and I took out the headphones that had music that perfectly expressed those feelings… I might have to feel them… but I am done embracing them for now… and I will wait… And I will even spare you the “this too shall pass” and “learn to dance in the rain” *cough*bullshit*cough* … I will leave you with the one thing… that always… no matter how far I am away from real… helps..
Honestly.. I couldn’t even tell you why …

 

… Have you hugged a local occupier today? Happy May Day!

I will be heading into work this morning…  I do not have the funds… nor the job security to call in sick today….. I am a coward… With mouths to feed and a roof over heads to maintain… and I don’t think anyone truly holds that against me…. I am so grateful for those in a position to be there protesting today…

In what Occupy organizers are calling “a day without the 99%,” protesters are planning to participate in a “general strike” on Tuesday: no work, no shopping, no banking.

I will be participating in the: no shopping, no banking, not pumping a damn drop of gas today….  And I will hug the first Occupier I see!!!

… Grandma’s balls of steel

My favorite Grandmother ( I TOTALLY had a favorite… no contest) always said “You know the saying… If you don’t have anything nice to say…” she would then trail off and tell me everything she hated about everyone in my family… and I would sit there and admire her … Not only for being able to capture and hold the heart of the man who I thought walked on water…. But for having the balls of steel she appeared to have… and say exactly what she thought… and couldn’t have cared less what people thought…. That was a hell of a lead in to me not saying anything all today…

Cheer up little duck… It will get better

 

… TWLOHA

A few years ago a friend of mine… Who has been my friend since the dark days (High School LOL) was staying at my house and upon getting out of the shower… Towel still wrapped around her head, pulling her eyebrows up and making her look like a Vulcan… Tracked me down and in “that” voice (you know that voice right? the I’m really concerned about you, firm because I think you’re doing something wrong, but scared your going to go off the deep end if I mention it voice… I hate that voice) 

She:  ” Do you need to tell me something?”

 Me: “Want to be more specific?”

 She: “I found a piece of broken glass in the shower”

Still Clueless as to what the point is ME: “I don’t think i even own a glass shower product? What happened? Did you get hurt?”

She: “I was just concerned… Do you have anything to tell me?”

….. OOOHhhhhh I get it Me: ” About the glass? You don’t seriously think? Still? Its been almost 18 years”

She: “Are you okay?”

Me: “Never Better”

 She: “Let me see your arms”

………………… I raged inwardly a little bit, but it really has been long enough and I at this point have raised a teenage daughter of my own and understand the fear that something could be wrong… warning signs could be being missed… did I do enough?…. and I raise my sleeves and show her the skin… Scars still jagged and criss crossing over almost every inch… but they have lightened with time, light like the color of my skin…not purple and raised… and screaming out the pain and shame I never spoke out loud….

She breathes a sigh of relief and states “You know I had to ask”

… and I hugged her and looked at those arms … excused myself to my bedroom and then checked my shoulders, my stomach and my thighs… Cutters are creative…. and noticed that all of them were right where I left them on my 19th Birthday… The day I decided that no one was going to hurt me anymore… that included me…. I deserved better. I’m 38 years old,  a mommy! I am a “Recovering <insert several different options>” and I survived…. Okay, continue to survive, sometimes barely.

 Most days I struggle still, but I find myself looking at new ways of dealing with feelings and situations, one of them is finding help on the internet… Several years ago, when feeling super self-destructive… I googled a few choice phrases, that I was feeling, and surfaced a page www.TWLOHA.com… And I found what I was looking for that day, to get through whatever it was at the time, and have used that same resource several times and this week, as I found myself sifting through this amazing organizations site I realized that maybe I should tell someone about it… Maybe someone hasn’t found it, hasn’t talked to their preteens and teens about it, and hasn’t found another way to deal with things yet… So inspired this blog.
I remember clearly the first time I saw someone with cuts on their arms, I was fifteen, she was a friend of mine, I was already in a tailspin of drugs, drinking, running away, being in all the wrong places at all the wrong times… but we were “friends”… and I told her, that if I ever saw something like that on her again, I would cut myself too, Thinking this would deter her, because I didn’t want her to hurt herself… She did it again, and I kept my word, I don’t even think we were friends for more than a couple of weeks, but I carried something from that friendship… a new coping skill… an escape route… and the single hardest thing I would ever have to leave behind to this day. It continued for years with me… Sometimes just to feel in control, sometimes to deal with what I was feeling, eventually just to feel anything at all…

Sometimes it wasn’t so bad, Sometimes I needed stitches, Sometimes I was angry when people tried to stop me, Sometimes I was angry when no one stopped me, Sometimes I resented the “body checks” Sometimes I wish they really knew what they were looking for, because I was finding a way.

I remember clearly why I stopped… Finally someone looked at me, not with fear, not with sadness, not with concern… but with a quirky little smile… She said to me “You know, this is a choice for you, some people don’t have the choice, but you do… You don’t have to be like this… you don’t have to be sick… you could right now choose to not be “that” girl anymore… But if this is what you want, we will always be here… open 24 hours a day, 365 days a year… even on Christmas, with our Styrofoam bulbs… because you can’t be trusted with glass… and we will take care of you.. But what you want is to be loved, and no one can love you until you learn to love yourself” … No one could love me unless I loved myself… I don’t know, now as a mother, if I agree with that… because I love my children unconditionally, regardless of if they love themselves or not… but I know it is hard …. Something about that rang really true to me then… and it still does… I didn’t stop right away.

 Oh god forbid I let her think she had gotten through to me, or helped me… But it changed from then.. Suddenly I thought of myself as a the little girl they were looking at… a little girl that I wouldn’t let anyone cut into her skin… she deserved better than that… no one deserved that… and I started treating her/Me differently.. it was slow.. and I had to try one more time… several more times… to see if I could still find the release I needed… but it was gone… I didn’t want to hurt anymore… and I stopped.
Once a year, My Friends… my children… and I write “Love” on our arms (Sometimes it turns into an art contest)… To remember and raise awareness for those who are hiding this horrible secret… and to remind ourselves that all we want… and we can learn to Love ourselves. You will never find me in short sleeves, or really short anything… I don’t run up to strangers and show them my arms… And I’m sure 50 years could pass… and I will still have to bear skin if there is broken glass or a razor blade in the room… But it’s because they love me…

 But I can show you my arms, I learned to love myself.
So there is my random story… and my random promotion of TWLOHA.

… This moved me

One of my favorite things about spring and summer are the festivals… Art festivals to be exact…I attended an arts festival last year and wrote this post then… I wanted to reshare on the shiney new blog… I enjoyed it so much that I don’t leave the festival until I have experienced everything it has to offer…. I was standing in line with two beautiful children waiting for the face painters when the smallest angel started to fidget… I left Mr amazing with my son, and took his daughter to wander a little… Right next to the line was this booth, with the colors and textures and visuals screaming my name…  I first caught sight of this jump suit… bedazzled and bespectacled over every inch of the surface, and I guided said smallest child towards it, as the darling four-year old loved beads and jewels and anything sparkly really… she ooohhhhed and ahhhhhed enough that I dared take her in further to this booth… cautioning her not to touch anything…. Amazingly enough she listened… maybe she was moved by what she saw as much as I was….
You see the sweet artist in this picture, She was so kind


http://www.kathyross3d.com/

There was a little haven from the world in this booth, every worry and stress I was carrying with me melted away as my senses normally used to focus on them was distracted by the sculptures… I forgot about how I was going to pay the bills, How in the world I was going to manage all the upcoming events… What I was going to make for dinner… Hurt feelings… Anxiety… Physical aches and pains… and entered what could only be described as the world of a Book.

You are what you read… This is the one I would want to be… The secret garden

We spent a good 15 minutes in there, mesmerized, and captured before rejoining our group to tell them about the magic happening over in that little tent, in the heat of the day, and we returned the next day… so the boys could see it this time… and they too were awed, and touched…. Sometimes I think we forget to look at things from a different view, that there is more to this life than bills and worries… There are still beautiful things to show our children… and that it can’t be found in a classroom, or a bank account, or a clean home….


This was my personal favorite, It reminded me there is more out there, than my small little view… Better things are coming… and the world still can be beautiful.

I needed that… and it moved me…. I will be saving up for this piece.

… Its Kinda like a Holiday… Its Bloggess Day!

I woke up this morning… Open my Kindle… and watched in awe as the book downloaded to my device…. Squeeeeeee!!! So to my own blog… whose holiday it is not… I apologize for the neglect as I read this… But… to make it up to you… I will give an EBook copy of this magic as a Bloggess day gift for your very own…. Comment… Baffle me with Bullshit… I will pick a random commenter and squeee in unison with them… YAY US!

 

The whole thing is I just like her that much… I dont care about visitors to my site… no offense… but Im not selling shit… Im just having fun 🙂

Stop The Traffick

A dutch ad agency put this together for Stopthetraffic.com … Its message was loud and clear… As it should have been!

 

Thousands of women every year follow the dream of a dance career to red-light districts. They are tricked, bought, and sold, and it needs to stop.