Round here…

we always stay up late,

This is true, if for no other reason than I have insomnia. Truth be told, my nightmares have increased. I have, since a young age, had nightmares. My therapist called them a sort of flashback or reliving the past. At any rate, they are happening more frequently and being a normal, functioning human, is getting very difficult.

I was tempted to go to a mental health provider, but dissuaded by my friends and family. My friends told me they couldn’t help me, since I am just reliving trauma, short of drugging me into a stupor. (Which they quickly added they would help me do for free, I might add) My family recounted how many times I tried to receive services, real help, therapy …like behavioural therapy or talk therapy…and instead recieved a quick diagnosis (always different mind you) and about 5 or 6 scripts for heavy anti-psychotics…and how the meds never helped. My lover refused to speak to me the whole time I tried to talk about it…even shunned my touch.

In case you can’t tell, I live in a bubble of people that have seen me try and fail numerous times, with the help of "professionals", to get over the trauma of my childhood. They are very supportive of who I am, undrugged, eccentric to a fault, and even a bit mad. They prefer me this way, they say at least. However, when I get one of my episodes of sadness or insomnia like of late, they get upset at me. When I try the logical, mainstream way of healing, I get more chastisement. Admitting you need help from a "professional" is tantamount to giving up the ghost of your own free will.

Instead, I must find unconventional means which so far haven’t been working. Religion used to be a comfort of mine, but those days are long since past I fear. Say what you will, but the placebo effect is strong and works well when you believe hard enough. Unfortunately, that spell has been broken for me. I have no placebos, no comforts, no place to find solace…not even in my lovers arms do I find comfort anymore. The world is a big, dark, scary, and lonely place now as it was when I was a child.

Normally, my mental health deteriorates after an event of sadness, but of late only events of joy have really been in place. I am to help with my best friends wedding. I have been canning on a regular basis. I went dress shopping the other day. It’s so rare for me, but I do love when I go…even if it is just window shopping. Having a reason to dress up is so wonderful.

The only sadness is that of one of my girlfriends. Her husband had an affair. I was trying to be there for her. Put her up at my pad, got her into a local job and college. Everything was going swimming, then suddenly she turned on me. Blamed me for her sadness, though to be honest she had every reason to be sad about her husband…but that wasn’t my fault. She left, in a huff, back to the man that was leaving her for days at a time to be with his girlfriend. I really loved this woman. I wanted her to feel the freedom I felt. The independence of going out there and doing it. The joy of knowing you can handle it. I guess she wasn’t ready.

Her days here brought up a lot of old emotions from my marriage. My partner died in 2015, but we were already divorced. I remember her arguments with her husband, and they were so similar to the arguments my partner and I had. I was reliving my divorce. I cried nightly about the way that divorce went. What’s worse, I couldn’t even call and talk to my ex for some sort of closure. Those around me started to feel the effects too. They said things like, "Geez this reminds me of your ex. You guys did this crap towards the end." Yeah…and I had to relive that there was no way for me to say sorry now.

IS this because I am grieving…again? Is it because I never got to grieve? I don’t know. I do know though…now, I lay awake for hours wondering…how did my life come to this sum?

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A year….and almost nothing posted

No excuses here.

I live life. When I get time to catch my breath, I write.

2016 was a whirlwind of bad health, financial disappointments, and new friends.

I canned 29 quarts of pears, that I gleaned from a local tree.

I canned 29 pints of pickles out of ten gallons given to me by a friend.

I learned a lot about my health. I will be on medicine for life now. yay….*small slow sad clap*

On the plus side, I feel better than I did.

Hoping 2017 is better, better health, better finances, and better gardens.

Love Chow

What happened?

I tried to write to you via messenger. I offered you an opportunity. Apparently, it was not up to snuff, since I had a lot of "nerve" to offer you a place to stay when you were kicked out of your home by your step-mother three days after your father died. I have a lot of nerve to be kind.

I had a lot of nerve to write and say that I would be putting you in my will since your father left you nothing.

I have a lot of nerve to ask what the hell do you mean I should have known…known what? What should I have known?

I do have a lot of questions. Your father died in September and you had no children then. Suddenly three months later you have a family, two jobs, and two children? Yet you say you aren’t screwing a married man behind his wife’s back even though your address comes up with his name. Hey, I guess if you would rather pay your way in pussy then come live with me…what’s it my business. Please don’t lie to yourself though and pretend his children, with his wife, are your children. Even further please don’t use her children as excuse not to speak to me, you loser. You have no children. I never did anything to you except offer you a place to stay where you wouldn’t have to put out to sleep on the couch.

How I remembered my friend…

After my friend, my ex lover, my ex partner died…I was devastated. I cried for three days. I could not eat. I could not sleep. I could do nothing. Every time I closed my eyes, I could feel his hair. I could smell his scent. I could feel his body when it was next to mine. It had been a decade or more since we were actually together, but it felt like he was right there. I cancelled all of my appointments, social engagements, and projects. I shut down.

As I laid in me bed for almost a week in the dark solitude of a depression I hadn’t known in years, I felt my emotions fly all over the place. I cried out in pain. I screamed at him for leaving me. I cursed him for marrying such a con artist whore. I wept for the loss his children would endure. Then I fell into an exhaustive sleep. Then I woke up and did it all over again. I never changed my clothes. I never took a shower. I never even got up off my bed except to go to the restroom. I was beyond devastated. My partner would come check on me periodically, hug me, and bring me food or water. I usually just took a bite to make my love feel better, but at least I ate then. By the end of the week, I was nudged gently to at least get on the computer.

I did. I had messages from all of the mother’s of his children. "What will I do for the rent?" "His son is going to need diapers?" They didn’t have the luxury of wailing for a week like I did. They had children with immediate needs and concerns, while my love took care of everything so I could grieve. Here I was laying around like a slug crying my eyes out, relying on my partner for even the simplest of foods or drinks, while these women were worried how they would now support their children without their child’s father around. I am so thankful to my love for being the sunshine that nudged me to join the world after a week. I am also so thankful that the mothers of his children felt comfortable enough to chat with me. I was so thankful to God for giving me a chance to help my friend even though he was gone. I got straight to work.

By the end of the second week of his passing, the mothers of his children knew they would have income, how to get it and where. We ALL worked together for the kids sake. The government helped by working quickly to help the kids. All the children now receive survivor’s benefits including my daughter I had with him over 14 years ago. This year I sent all of the children a gift. He used to get them all at least one small gift. Since he couldn’t be there to do it this year, I did, and I will do it every year after too if they don’t mind. It’s the least I can do for him.

How do we grieve?

How do we grieve?

How do we let go of someone that for at least part of our life was our lover, our friend, our partner, our life?

How do we let go, when everyone in their life stabs your heart?

How do we heal when we are excluded from services?

How do we move on when we never got a chance to say goodbye?

My ex-lover and I remained friends well over a decade after we split. We spoke to each other often, monthly at least, sometimes weekly. We worked together in common goals and supported one another. Then my ex-lover found someone new. It’s not that he was alone for that entire decade. Lovers came and went. He was engaged once. Through it all though, we spoke. We laughed. We worked as a team. We supported one another as friends. However with his last love, he married. I saw the red flags. The exclusion of long time friends and family. He didn’t call as often. His calls were hurried and secret.

“I can only call you while she’s at work.”

“Why? We haven’t been together in years.”

“She’s jealous of everyone.”

It never occurred to me that he could be a victim of domestic violence. He had a temper. He had a strong will. He was a man. SHE was a perpetrator of a unique kind of violence.

More red flags went up, he could no longer see his son, because SHE said so. Then SHE needed a new wardrobe to get a job, so she spent $8,000.00 on my ex-lovers credit card. She took a loan out for 10 grand in his name. Combined in one year she spent more than 3 years of his pay. Friends whispered about the debt, the arguments, the fact that he started to lose weight. No one dared speak what they believed.

Then late at night, more than 4 hours passed when he would normally call, he did. His voice was hoarse. He sounded like he had been crying.

“She want’s me to make her the only beneficiary of my life insurance. She doesn’t even want my son on it.”

“Are you crying?” I asked. Not seeing the obvious, listening to the sound of his voice not the words they spoke and the impact they held.

“Of course not, look I have to go.” Click. That was about 6 months ago.

He committed suicide a week ago. Oh he made it look like an accident. He sped up to a point of no return and crossed over the center line. He did it like he always said he would though…”If I ever get to pick my way out, it will be to crash and burn. He was 17 then…who takes a 17 year old seriously? At 21, “you know motorcycles are just a man’s suicide machine right?” “I wouldn’t want to come back after an accident.”

He gave her everything she wanted. He gave her the clothes, cars, house, and more. He gave her his life insurance policy. He gave her his life. Even in death she isn’t satisfied. She would not even allow someone to speak for him at the memorial. She would not even allow his loved ones to scatter his ashes. She had to have every last piece of dust all for herself. I pray no one ever marries her again, so that they might be able to live.

Here I am, just trying to figure out how to heal, without saying goodbye.

That time of year

It’s hot out!

It’s hot, the sun is shining, my Casa Blanca Lillies are blooming, and my friends are all busy working. I’m not really. I have been going to the pool for relaxing swims and to cool off, but the next day I am so sore. I even got a bruise from the step ladder while getting out of the pool. I slipped, grabbed the hand rail, but my leg still banged the side of the step ladder. I have a lovely purple reminder on my shin. Either way, the pool just isn’t the same without friends. Sure, it’s cooling and relaxing, but who can I chat with? I watch children jump in cannon ball style and get splashed. There’s no one to throw Frisbee with to pass the time. I could work on a tan, but I am not a fan of skin cancer. Which reminds me, I need better sun screen. I have a slight burn.

What are you doing this summer? I hope your time is spent with loved ones and filled with laughter.

I need to clear my head space

Oh what dramatic whirlwinds ran through my weekend! I had planned for a nice weekend in the garden, but no. Nature conspired against me with cold miserable rain. Then my friends conspired against me as well and not in the sort of way I would like. Instead of whisking me away to a movie to pull me out of my rain soaked misery, I was treated to a first class cat fight. What in the world?

You know there is always that *one* friend everyone tolerates, but no one ever is best friends with or goes to their house to hang out. I know you have had one, everyone has had this kind of friend at least once. If not, you are this friend. This is the friend that says back handed insults. Things like "Oh Jennifer, you look great in Stephanie’s jumper because your thighs aren’t too huge for it like hers." That friend…the passive aggressive…bitch dare I say?

Well there is this person that I started speaking with again…yes..that one. I am still doing it at arm’s length and certainly not over personal phone numbers, but like chat apps and things. Nothing real traceable for a novice. Anyway, she is hanging with this one chick that is a major passive aggressive bitch and has NO IDEA what this person has done to me and my little set of friends way over here. It’s really bizarre because the conversation was well enough, civil at least. Then out of no where this passive aggressive bitch friend comes on and starts back handed insulting me, my friends, even my family…and even the little girl who I give clothes to occasional. This person never met us or talked to us before…

Anyway, I am thinking this is the real reason for getting back in contact with me. I mean this person left us all over a year ago and out of nowhere wants to talk. Why? I had red flags everywhere, but no matter…I was prepared..I thought. So instead of speaking her mind herself, she tells this person horrible and untrue lies (I’m thinking) and out comes the bullshit from their mouth not hers. Right? So the passive aggressive bitch gets blamed and not the troll that absconded without so much as a thank you over a year ago.

Anyway, it went something like this. This is VERY VERY VERYYYY watered down. Basically there were a lot more insults and lies involved. Troll to me: "OMG look how wonderful my birthday was and all the great things I got from my new friends." Passive Aggressive Bitch to Troll: "Yeah, you finally deserve someone treating you right. You suffered through hell back there and now you are finally getting the things you deserve." Me: "WTF? We did plenty for her and she had a nice life." Troll to Me: "I am tired of you two fighting. I am not going to listen to you two trade insults." So I told the troll to get lost, we are fine, she doesn’t really need to be in my life and it was nicer before we started talking again because I didn’t have a troll in my life. Now I don’t have to deal with her or her friend.

Meanwhile all hell broke loose on my end with all the friend’s she used to hang out with and were indirectly insulted. "I told you that bitch is just trying to hurt you." "When will you learn not to be such a softy?" "Glad that’s over, couldn’t stand her laugh." Most of them are disgusted I even continued to talk to her, almost like I betrayed them…by talking to her. The rest are just thankful she remained true to herself and showed her crappy self. Personally I am perplexed. Why go through all the trouble just to get to me? It doesn’t really make sense?

It’s that time of year

Oh the beauties that are the spring and summer time of year…
my little garden grows.
My animal friends enjoy the sunshine stretched out in the sunlight.
My home is cozy and warm.

I love this time of year….

So if I am missing, do forgive me.
I am in my garden watching the flowers grow,
picking fresh vegetables,
or in my kitchen canning and pickling my harvest.

If not there,
then I am at the beach or pool swimming with my friends,
I might be fishing by the river,
waiting for the big one to bite,
and laughing when it gets away.

Sometimes I go to the park,
just to watch the children play,
their freedom and innocence I had not too long ago,
and it reminds me of summers when I was in school.
May be I will stop and get a small ice cream cone,
eat it along a walking trial,
stop to admire the butterflies,
and rest in the cool shade of a maple tree.

I wish I could take you alone with me.
Until then,
you will be in my heart.

I spent the past few months forgetting about someone that disappeared…and now they reappeared

How bizarre,
I healed,
moved on…stopped day dreaming this person would get their due.
I made major steps to getting my life in order,
went out of my way to help others to ignore my hurt,
and I healed.

I was happy.

Then a friend of a friend passed a message to me.

By the way unusuallyquiet,
that chick that left you and your friends behind wants to say hi.
She wants you to forgive her.
She wants to be recognized.

Well, I happened to be at my friend’s house when I got the text.

A lively discussion ensued. That *****, who does she think she is…was said more than once.

My friend’s begged me not to speak to her.

Yet, in the back of my mind, I was curious.

What makes a person deny you, steal from you and lie about you and have the gall to want to talk to you again?

I thought, "What harm could it cause?" Not really, but I am drawn like a moth to fire to enigmas.

I spoke to this person, through texts from a friend of a friend…so how reliable that is who knows…for about an hour.

It was like 8 texts. She never got my real number.

Hi, things are good. I settled down. Found my niche. I never realized working for myself could be so hard. I’m sorry I screwed you over…was the gist of it.

Hmmm….. what does she want?

I told her about all the lovely things I have been doing, the shopping, the evenings out, the friend’s she left behind and how wonderful they’re doing. I might have made it a smidge nicer than reality, if only to make her feel like tripe for doing what she did and to show we weren’t lacking without her. Was that wrong? I really don’t care. I spoke civilly to someone that doesn’t even deserve a minute of my time.