pickin' bones

1) i need to know where this new found interest in scarves came from.  i mean, when i was younger, scarves were purchased (or made) to keep you warm during the winter - and only the rarest of pretentious twats (like yuppies and faux intellectuals) wore them beyond the scope of temperature control. now it's like a virus spreading all over the fucking world.  it could be ninety degrees out with a humidity percentage of 110%, and these jerks will still wear scarves ... with their designer ribbed wife-beaters.  i think it looks silly.  if you want an accent piece, wear a fucking necklace ... or some earrings ... or carry a parrot on your shoulder.  cold-weather accessories are for practical purposes, and sweltering underneath your shittily crocheted yak-yarn cowl on a summer's eve (courtesy of some overpricing baroness of etsy) is just as practical as high heels.  by that i mean, it's not.

2) fake glasses.  i.do.not.get.it.  as a spectacles wearer, i could never conceive a good enough reason for anybody to wear non-prescription glasses.  it makes me think you're pulling fakies in every other facet of your life.  if you need to wear bullshit eye-wear, maybe your penis isn't real, either.  perhaps your love for the homeless is a front, too.  i understand that "nerdy glasses" are "cute", and guys especially really "dig them" .... but this bizarre attraction is even more mind boggling.  there are plenty of people out there with real glasses - so wouldn't you rather date the ladies you know aren't pulling your (leg) instead of the flakes pulling a (fast one) on you?  if you need to make yourself look like a nerd, you're clearly not a nerd, and need to stop trying.  not to mention, it's still just as practical as those infamous high heels. 

3) returning complaint: refusal to use indicator (turn signal):  i'll make this short.  USE THE FUCKING THING.  JUST USE IT.  IT'S NOT HARD.  IT'S NOT A DIFFICULT TASK.  IT'S NOT LIKE I'M ASKING YOU TO LEARN BLOODY MACRAME! IT'S A FUCKING INDICATOR, TO FUCKING INDICATE THAT YOU'RE ABOUT TO FUCKING TURN SO I DON'T FUCKING PLOW INTO THE FUCKING BACK OF YOUR FUCKING CAR!

4) why the fuck does excommunication seem to be an acceptable way to punish someone?  surely one would think that talking out the problem, and finding a solution that saves the friendship/relationship, would be the proper way to go.  considering that we're all adults here, very few of you actually know how to act like one.  it's disheartening. it's discouraging.  and, fuck you.

5) there weren't as many bones to pick as i had anticipated, or maybe i'm just really tired.
i'm going to guess on being tired, because it sounds right.

you know what else sounds right? vagina folding. 

do NAHT

things you just shouldn't do:


- try to gasp for air while washing your face. 
 result: a mouthful of soapy water.

- invite a porcupine into your sex life.  
result: more than just a pain in your ass.

- request that your flatmate throw the tape-player into the bathtub with you
when 'white rabbit' peaks.  
result: probable death.  not everybody is as kind
as hunter s. - not everybody will throw a grapefruit at your head. 

- swing really, super high directly after eating.  
result: puking.  potential choking hazard.  definite memory keeper.

- trying to be sexy after drinking a lot.
result: tits falling out of your shirt, drool sliding out of the side of your mouth,
slurred poetic verses of love, and eventual passing out in the lap of the person
you're desperately trying to swoon.
result of that: no phone call the next day.

- head bang while driving.
result: you will look stupid.  ladies will hate you.  men will laugh.

- give your child caffeine.
result: loss of sanity.  yours, not theirs. (oh.  and it's bad parenting.  waffle-twat.)

- put out a fire with your body.
result: you'll most likely catch on fire.  if you're alone, you're probably fucked.

- trying to walk on water whilst tripping on acid.
result: you won't be walking on water, you'll be drowning in it.

- sticking your head into the mouth of a lion.
result: one of two things can happen here.  either the lion is
docile and has the utmost patience for your circus stupidity OR
he eats your face.  either way, is it worth the risk?

keep adding to this list.  i'm going to bed.

i am a woman, after all.

i look in the mirror
and what do i see?
two lumbering hips, staring back at me.
around to the front, as i sneer with disgust
a belly; round, soft, and robust.
marked with the scars of childbearing years
stained by all the self-deprecating tears.

i turn to the left, shift my body upright
catch glimpse of my ever-fleshy backside ...
and with watering eyes, i look at my feet;
at least those are cute and petite.

prominent ankles, tomboyish stems
sometimes i think my body is condemned.

i claw at my porcine thighs
nowt i can do to hide
i should stop stomping on my pride.

broad shoulders to steady my burdens
a strong back to carry my children
corpulent arms that sway when i walk
small hands that help me to talk ....

i'm built like a teapot
short and stout
here are my love handles
my neck is the spout;
stretching up to the sky when i sing,
holding my head when i scream.

i'm not dainty, graceful, or lean.
i'll never be tall, precious, or thin.
not cute as a button
or fair as a fawn.
i've been built to work
until my life is done..

genetics have made me the way that i claim,
and i'll try to remember not to be ashamed.

i'd rather keep my smarts than have more sex appeal.
i'd rather be rational than beautifully surreal.
i'm happier as the 'go to' when someone's distressed,
than be a bar-hopping, spoiled, eye-candied hot mess.

i take solace that i'll make a good wife.
i take pride that i've lived a hard life.

i'm pleased my maternal instincts are sound.
i'm thrilled to have good friends around,
to pick me up when i do hit the ground.

my body, my temple, my biological car.
you've served me well, you've got me this far.
you're not what i wanted, or expected at all.
and like my character, you're nowhere near small.

i'm stuck with you for the rest of my days.
you'll change like the weather when i change with age.

some days i'll loathe you, like a pain in my ass.
i'll cry, beg, and plead  - stare at you like you're trash.

other days i will wear you, with admiration and worth.
put you up on a pedestal, not feeling cursed.

my feelings on this are fleeting and banal.
but i am a woman, after all.

the fever's rolling in
the blues is back again
the reflection begins

what the hell!
where to now?
pretty sure i had it all figured out.
settled, calm, cool, and protected.
everything seemed in perfect perspective.
leave it to me to destroy the collective;
i've got a knack at defying objectives.

oh my, i'm digging my grave.
six feet deeper, and i'll feel brave.
shove me in, i can do the rest.
but don't leave me alone, i'm not feeling my best.

talk to me through the ground
and i'll tell you what i've found ...
what put me into this compound ...
what was so profound.
why i'm so fucking down.




 

words of wisdom, quotes to live by.

"You can quote me on many things. This is one of them."

"Then that would make you my heinous anus."

‎"If you want to fuck someone in the ass that just shat and didn't wipe you, my friend, have a poopdickament."

"Going to the food library using someone else's EBT card. I am as classy as I am handsome."

"I think we'll have a long, fruitful relationship. With the beef jerky, that is."

"Atkins; The Scientology of diets."

"I would eat cottage cheese out of her asshole, and I don't even like cottage cheese."

"Fuck Chuck Norris. Fuck him and his Walker, Texas Ranger and creationism. Van Damme was the REAL meal deal. He had Bloodsport, Kickboxer, Double Impact, Universal Soldier, Cyborg, Hard Target, not to mention he rocked the EXTREME high pants. And, could Chuck Norris do the splits? I think not."

"Ska - The disco of punk rock."

"On a positive note, cheers to whoever or whomever invented feta cheese. It's like chewing delicious rubber."

"You just go ahead and get off on that. ha ha ha. I am such a genius."

"Tired of reading posts about your fickle relationship, your contempt for men, your ugly fucking feral kids and bible scripture. If you're going to keep posting the same things, make them about Roadhouse, or The Big Lebowski, or Satan."

"I bet her vag smells like a fish hatchery."

"Band name ; Exit Felix."

(all credit is given to the endlessly quotable Jason ....)
  

personal survey a go go

Whats your middle name?:	lynn
How big is your bed?:	bigger than a bread box
What are you listening to right now?:	my own nasally breathing
What are the last 4 digits in your cellphone number?:	5309
What was the last thing you ate?:	almonds
Last person you hugged?:	my cat
How is the weather right now?:	stupid
Who was the last person you talked to on the phone?:	this really sexy hooker. i forgot his name.
What is the first thing u notice in the opposite sex?:	their hands
Favorite type of Food. :	real
Do you want children?:	for what purpose?
Do you drink?:	water is imperative
Ever get so drunk you don't remember the entire night?:	no, but you clearly have
Hair color?:	sepia toned
Eye colour?:	cobalt blue
Do you wear contacts/glasses?:	spectacles
Favorite holiday?:	halloweenie
Favorite Season?:	summall (summer and fall)
Have you ever cried over a girl/boy?:	yep. nearly drown them with my tears of fury.
Last Movie you Watched?:	lord of the rings
What books are you reading?:	wasted
Piercings?:	yes please
Favorite Movie?:	one flew over the cuckoo's nest
Favorite college football Team?:	barf
What were you doing before filling this out?:	smoking a cigarette like the slave of nicotine i am.
Any pets?:	some.
Dogs or cats?:	it's what's for dinner.
Favorite Flower?:	dahlia
Have you ever loved someone?:	sure
Who would you like to see right now?:	that fucking hooker. so hawt.
Have you ever fired a gun?:	i sure have!
Do you like to travel by plane?:	i like to travel by humming bird.
Right-handed or Left-handed?:	my other left
If you could go to any place right now where would you go?:	saskatoon
Are you missing someone?:	oh well gosh darn. you got me.
Do you have a tattoo?:	fuck yes.
Do you still watch cartoons on Saturday mornings?:	no.
Are you hiding something from someone?:	nope.
ARE YOU 18?:	i'm 28, which makes this pathetic.
WHAT IS THE WALLPAPER ON YOUR CELLPHONE?:	some kid.
DID YOU GET ENOUGH SLEEP LAST NIGHT?:	i never do.
FIRST THING YOU THOUGHT ABOUT THIS MORNING?:	HOOKERS
WHAT DO YOU HAVE HANDY AT YOUR BEDSIDE?:	A SHELF
GRILLED OR FRIED?:	DEAD
WHAT MAKES YOU UNIQUE?:	NOTHING
ARE YOU AFRAID OF THE DARK?:	EVER LOVING FUCK I AM
FAVORITE HANGOUT?:	UPSIDE DOWN
3 THINGS YOU CAN'T LIVE WITHOUT?:	WATER, OXYGEN, AND PLACENTA
FAVORITE SONG?:	THE ONE THAT DOESN'T SOUND SHITE
WHAT ARE YOU AFRAID OF?:	EVERYTHING
ARE YOU A GIVER OR TAKER?:	GIVER
WHAT ARE YOUR NICKNAMES?:	jenndo
WHAT IS YOUR DADS MIDDLE NAME?:	BUBBLE TRUMPS
WHATS YOUR MOTHERS MIDDLE NAME?:	BLARGLESNARF
STUCK ON A DESERTED ISLAND & COULD TAKE ONE THING?:	TOILET PAPER
FAVORITE T.V. COMMERCIAL?:	NADS
WHO'S YOUR CELL PHONE PROVIDER?:	iwireless.  sucks.
FIRST THING YOU'LL SAVE IN A FIRE?:	THE DISHES
Whats your favorite color?:	roy g biv
WHAT ARE THE THINGS YOU ALWAYS TAKE WITH YOU?:	my organs
WHAT DID YOU WANNA BE WHEN YOU WERE A KID?:	a kid
WHAT DO YOU USUALLY DO WHEN THE CLOCK TURNS 11:11?:	look at it
THE COLOR OF YOUR BEDSHEEt?:	green
WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT BEFORE YOU GO TO BED?:	changing my life so dramatically, that it couldn't be my life.
Myspace Surveys

so still.

there's still a little blood on my thigh
from when he decided to take his time
no nerve for fighting
i just sat there, silently screaming in

there's still a little bruise on my cheek
from when he decided to make me feel weak
no point in fighting
i just stood there crying, silently screaming in

there's still a little ring 'round my throat
from when he decided to give me a choke
no use in fighting
i just shut down, silently screaming in

there's still a little break in their hearts
from when they begged him to stop from the start
no strength for fighting
they were so still, silently screaming for me

bedtime thoughts

life.

full of glory, pain, triumph, boredom, knowledge, lessons, love, loss, shitty diapers, sippy cups, band-aids, tylenol, doctor appointments, psychiatrists ... yeah.  something like that.

the point is, no matter where we're at or what we're going through - things can always be worse.
we strive for better and resent the current - and frankly, that's a piss poor way of going about things.
i'm just as guilty though.  looking past all the silver lining and letting the weight of all the not-so-joyful happenings drag me to the ground, through 15 layers of dog shit, and (unsurprisingly) landing me in front of a speeding bus - because that's how it goes.

but it really doesn't have to be that way.  i mean, there will always be struggles.  it's unavoidable.
i guess we all forget sometimes the things we have that we need to be holding onto with the grip of death. those little lights in our lives that pick us up guide us through the trenches of fucking doom - one swift kick to the ass at a time.

and though those things may not be exactly what we want or expect right now, at least we have them.  those little happy things can turn into giant happy things if we play our cards right - especially if we stop focusing on the downside (and nine times out of ten, a paranoid-induced downside that isn't likely).

a flower can grow out of a pile of shit.  and that flower starts to stir beneath the surface of said shit, where nobody can see it .... and then, before we know it, something totally kick ass has brightened our day (even though it started from, well, shit.)

so.  water your shit-flowers and stop grazing in the fields of impenetrable negativity.
it's the only way to go.
i'm fucking tired.
goodnight.

men aren't pigs. they're ... human.

being in love doesn't necessarily mean you're in a functioning relationship, and being in a functioning relationship doesn't mean you're in love.

but let's suppose you are in love, and in a relationship. 

now this blog is mainly geared towards the ladies, as it seems to be a common issue amongst us, and by us, i mean you ... because i'm too laid back to give a damn.

the main problem lies in one word: jealousy

it's a dirty word, and a common ailment.  when i was younger, i was the jealous type.  i thought i should be idealized and the only woman my partner ever looked at.  if i ever found the eyes of my partner wandering off i was happy to gouge them out with rusted spoons infected with hepatitis.  i would get sour, bitter, and shut down entirely.  my self-esteem would be shattered, but at what cost?  it seems silly to me now.

the difference between men and women is vast, but as humans, we all look.  men look at women, women look at men, women even look at other women.  we size them up, wish that we looked more like them, or make crude comments about the muffin top they wobble around to make ourselves feel better.  women get together to bitch, moan, and giggle about who's cute (or "hot").  men do the same thing, but for shame if we catch them doing it.

being in a relationship does not imply that our partners are the only attractive person in the entire world, to us. what it does mean is that we're significantly attracted to our partner on more than just the physical plane.  we respect them, enjoy their company, prefer conversation with them, appreciate the commonalities, adore their presence, lovingly accept their faults, miss them when they're away, and are primarily aroused by them.  that's why we end up in a committed union with someone.  

commitment.  there's another fun word.  men are going to look, as i said before, and so are we (women).  looking is harmless.  pursuing, on the other hand, is a problem.  a 10 second gaze off in the direction of a woman with voluptuous breasts doesn't mean he'd rather be with her.  it means he's looking at her tits because they're perky, bouncy, and on display.  he's still going home with you, living with you, loving you, having sex with you, talking to you, and enjoying you.  he's chosen to BE with you, but nature suggests he will look at things that are nice.  that's all. 

i find myself, and other women, doing the same thing.  i see a pretty woman, i'll look at her, and even go so far as to comment to the person with me that i think she's a very pretty woman.  same logic follows when looking at men.  does that mean i want to approach them, get to know them, and fornicate?  hell no.  the person is visually stimulating, even for a moment, and that's it. 

it is unhealthy to assume we are the only ones our partner will ever find attractive.  it's delusional, and frankly, unfair.  they've dated before us, so clearly they find others attractive, and we know this.  why kid ourselves over a basic instinct, and then get so dramatically worked up over it to the point of starting fights?  now if we find them staring for longer than a minute or two, completely blanked out from our conversation, and drooling down their shirt .... sure, say something to get their attention, but maybe tease them instead of cackling on like a distraught hen.  if they start taking pictures with their phone, subtly, or flirting in the most blatant way with little regard for your feelings - then yes.  that gives a bit of room to become irritated and to even bitch a bit.

flirting.  oi vey.  there's another thing.  people flirt with everybody.  we flirt with gas station attendants, peers, cashiers, etc.  it's part of being nice, it's part of showing our approval towards someone.  a little flirtatious behavior, again, is harmless.  when the physical boundary is broken, when sexual content starts entering the conversation, when talk of meeting up in a less than platonic way gets brought up - the warning lights should go off and it should be addressed in a very grown up fashion.  pitching fits, yelling, and becoming hostile gets you nowhere.  if anything, that kind of response will push a wedge between you and your partner even more, and the behavior that pissed you off in the first place will get worse.

pick your battles, and don't be hypocritical.  don't hate your mate for being a human being, either.

now some of you might suggest that, as intelligent folk, we should overcome that.  bullshit.
we're monogamous.  that's unnatural, and a pretty big achievement.  i am a monogamous creature and find myself relatively not attracted to another soul when i'm in love/committed to someone, but that doesn't mean i still can't find another person attractive.  however, it doesn't sway how i feel or how i look at my partner.  i simply adore and prefer them by a country mile, and i can guarantee that most men think and feel the same way.  


the next time you see your man eyeballing the rounded backside of a lady for a split second, think about these things: who's hand does he hold, who does he kiss, who does he call when he's upset, who's bed does he lie in, who's body does he embrace, who is he intimate with, who does he gaze at adoringly, who does he call 'gorgeous' or 'beautiful', who does he spend most of his time with, who does he proclaim intense feelings for, who's tears does he wipe away, who does he miss, who's bedside will he rush to during sickness, who does he laugh with, who's opinion does he ask most of?


answer: you.

it makes those little glances and cheeky comments seem insignificant in that light.
if you're secure, in love, and such .... those things won't bother you anyway.  if they do, there's a deeper problem, and it's more than likely your own than it is his.  if that's the case, i'd hold off dating until you've worked out your inner demons. 

(and i know men can be dogs.  of course they can. but you know ... women can be just as bad.) 

dear nature:

we've known each other for a while.  i've climbed your branches and swam in your streams.  i've buried fallen g.i. joe's in your soil.  i've ran through your woods like a ninja just to capture the flag.  i've sniffed your flowers with appreciation, found bunnies and dragons in your clouds, and left my tongue out in the cold for the sake of catching the first snowflake.  i've stared at your brooding storms with wonderment, danced like a hippie in your rain, and cursed at your desire to freeze things ... like my toes.

i've smeared your earth across my face like war paint, picked your clovers for luck, and rolled around in your grasses on a hot summer day.  i've gone spelunking in your caves, scaled your walls of limestone, and humbled myself on your cliffs near your shores.  your wind-songs have soothed my sadness, your thunder has ignited my soul, and your lightning (frankly) scares the shit out of me.

of all the beautiful things you are, i have but one bone to pick with you:


winter.  make it stop now.

tacos and car rides.

gwen (my eldest) is suffering from growing pains. 
she is annoyed with this, and has made it very ... very clear.

off the top of her head, she decided she really wanted tacos for dinner.
i mean - REALLY wanted tacos. 

after spending 15 minutes bundling up the wee sprogs, and delicately stuffing them into my
awesomely horrific momwithalotofkids-van, we headed out on our quest for said tacos.

no sooner did we pull away from the house the insanity began.

mom?  mom!  MOTHER!?

huh?

my knees hurt.  and the spaces between my knees hurt.  and my hair hurts.

i'm sorry to hear that.

mom?  it's tellisia's birthday tomorrow and i need to get her a gift.  i want to give her my lipgloss,

but it's my lipgloss, and if i give it to her i won't have it.  so maybe i should give her something else instead.

that's a good ide -

oh wow!  i can see the whole CITY from up here!  it's like the whole world but just the hills next to the city, so it's not the whole world, but ....

no, gwen, it's not the whole worl -

hey!  if it snows a lot on friday maybe grandpa and grandma will let us play in it?  do you think so?

we could take our boots over there.  do you think?

well may -

mom, can hair hurt?  it feels like my hair hurts.  

no, gwen, hair cannot hurt. 

tellisia got a reflective note today.  she said the word gay to someone.  it wasn't very nice.

i know gwen, you told me earlier, and that isn't nice at all.

mom?  do we have to take a bath tonight?

yes.

but, when i sit in a warm bath, sometimes it makes me pee.

well, gwen, you need to pee before you get in the bath.

but i don't have to pee before i get into the bath!

well then, you need to get out if you have to pee.

but if i get out of the warm bath when i have to pee, i get really cold, and i might pee on .... the floor.

you won't pee on the floor gwen.

but i might!

you won't.

you know, in a few days we will have had 100 days of school!

is that so?

yeah!  school is fun.

yes, school IS fun.

no it's not, it's boring.

but you just sai -

it's okay.

then we got home.  tacos.

weight in gold

 (just wrote a new song - but haven't recorded it yet - so ... here are the lyrics)

we've been going at this for a long time
want a little peace
but we take it all in stride
and we laugh when we really wanna cry
just choke it all down

and we need to move away from this snow
settle in a place where it doesn't get cold
so we can sleep naked as the day
that we were born

but time will only tell when we live or die
i hope to god or whatever that i'm by your side
there's nothing that i would love more than this
and if we keep our chin up we'll never grow old
our bodies might fail but we'll never be sold
down the river of every man's dream when we'll have our own
that's worth it's weight in gold

we both know that change is coming soon
but we'll be just fine if we push on through
send our fears flying off to the moon
and don't look back

so lets hold onto this thought
have a little smile, not be so distraught
and we'll make the best of this spot
that we're in

but time will only tell when we live or die
i hope to god or whatever that i'm by your side
there's nothing that i would love more than this
and if we keep our chin up we'll never grow old
our bodies might fail but we'll never be sold
down the river of every man's dream when we'll have our own
that's worth it's weight in gold

sick and bitch.

i've been sick for a fair few weeks, and it eventually landed me in the hospital.  persistent retching, weight loss, and pissing blood .... all the lovely things that label one with 'sickness'.  blah blah blah.  it was great.

luckily, i have some of the sweetest friends in the world who got me through it, and family that was willing to watch my sprogs while i was sprawled (pathetically) in a hospital bed.  the accommodations were nice though, the morphine kept me entertained, and i love having george carlin read to me.  so that was pretty awesome too. 


i'm home now, but still feeling like i've been ran over by a bus filled with angry nuns, so i'm going to bitch and moan. 


1) who the fuck still supports avril lavigne?  i saw her face upon the recommended pages on facebook and it churned my stomach with disgust.  i hated her when i was a teenager, and i still hate her.  that.is.not.music.

2)  i've just been informed that clorox bleach owns hidden valley foodstuffs.  i am uncomfortable with this knowledge.

3) hpnotiq.  my initial complaint is that it's spelled in a fucking lazy way.  the secondary complaint is that, while the blue hpnotiq tastes okay, (usually after i've been sipping on my old faithful of vodka and mt. dew) .... well .... that purple shit is .... exactly that.  it smells like potpourri that my nan has had in a bowl for months, and tastes the same way it smells.  it's undrinkable.  it's some kind of foul concoction of said potpourri, rotted petunias, and the piss of tainted faeries. 

 4) to all people who do not use their indicators (turn signals): i hope acidic snails eat away at your brake pads, revoking your ability to drive.  it's not that god damn hard to flip the little knob at a bare minimum of 20 feet before you turn.  that's what they're for, to warn drivers behind you that you're about to yield and drive in a different direction.  when you fail to use the indicator, the good folks behind you either come very close to smashing into your shitty bmw or just become irate.  neither of which are good, because the heightened stress can cause a rise in blood pressure and maybe even a heart attack - which, if this happens while they're in the car (behind you) their car is going to kiss your car anyway. 


5) internet speak is lame.  wat is not easier than what.  it's a difference of one letter, you lazy fucks.  ure is not easier than your or you're, and the difference between your and you're isn't that hard to remember either.  to and too ... and two.  simple words.  how can you fuck this up?  and why fuck this up?  it's ridiculous. 
misspelling words is also a grammatical catastrophic epidemic.  all sites now provide instant spell check, using a beautiful red squiggly line to indicate you've spelled something wrong.  if it's too difficult to right click the word in question and fix it, maybe you should back away from the computer, slowly. 


i'm tired now.  that is all.  until next time, my friends.

i give a shit, too.

i made a promise today that i've made a million times in the past few years.

i understand why everybody wants me to make this promise, and it's really for my own
benefit ... not theirs.


that promise being this: that i will never, under any circumstance, fall into the vile grips of another abusive relationship. 


you see, this upcoming march will mark the 3 year 'anniversary' that i left my viciously abusive husband.  i call him my husband because, surprisingly, we're not divorced, but that's a whole different blog.  i don't really dwell on it much these days, but it happens, especially when i'm alone.  nighttime floods me with thoughts of the shoulda, coulda, woulda's ... but that's besides the point.


i'm safe now.


that said, there are so many victims of such crimes that keep silent.  i was one of those silent people, for five long years, but i'm standing here today screaming out on behalf of the rest.  i always will.  the abuse has changed me forever, and i will fight to the ends of the earth for others to know that they deserve better, too.


the websites on domestic violence are excellent reference points, but none really go into other red flags that are usually prominent during the beginning of the relationship - the most pivotal point - the intersection that you stand at forever weighing out whether you stay or go.  maybe he/she has yelled at you one too many times, but you justify it because they're having a hard time - or they just lost their job - or they're battling addiction - or they're coping with newly surfaced parental issues that have been buried for way too long.  the excuses are endless.  maybe they've pushed you a time or two, or backed you into the wall when you've tried to stand your ground.  to an outsider, these things will look outrageous, but to you, it's .... nothing.  they love you, after all.


first and foremost, anybody that says they love you within the first 7 days is full of shit, but they've chosen you for a reason.  your self-esteem is probably so low it's dragging on the ground behind you, and that's like blood to a shark.  they pick up that scent and stalk closely behind.  predators read people, very well, and will get to know you on a very personal level - but in a subtle way.  they'll insist they care and will expect you to spill every last piece of your shortcomings and fears.  you will do this, because nobody ever listens.  odds are, you've already been a victim of abuse in some other part of your life.  coincidentally, they will share every last common interest with you, even the bizarre ones .... right down to your favorite color and the way you prefer to make the bed.  the attention they shower you with in the first few months is so overwhelming that when the "small" red flags start to appear, you'll dismiss them.  the aforementioned shoves here and there, the short tempered yelling over insignificant things, and even the constant questioning of your lifestyle will all seem protective instead of abusive, and you'll be swooned by that.  it will seem like somebody cares, finally, after all those years.

the kicker is you will have good times with this person.  if you didn't, you wouldn't stick around.  these people will make you laugh harder, smile bigger, and fall in love faster than anybody ever has or ever could (so you think).  the power of suggestion is heightened during this period, and you'll find yourself agreeing with their irrational behaviors and ideas more frequently.  you'll make sense out of it, you'll protect everything they do, and it's at this crossroad when friends and family start asking you if you're alright.  you won't have noticed your lack of interest in things you used to love, your absence at family gatherings, and friendly meetups.  you won't have even the slightest inkling of how your ideals and morals have changed, because that one person makes it all better ... even when they're slamming their hands on the table and demanding an explanation over who that old friend is you've just added on facebook.

things will go on like this for a while, and you will start questioning yourself, but shrugging it off rather hastily. 

then .... they'll hit you.


welcome to the most ridiculous point ever.  we're taught that hitting is wrong, and if anybody ever does so, to say goodbye.  but you wont say goodbye.  you'll stick it out because they'll cry, beg, plead, and promise to never do it again.  you'll believe them, hunker down, and lick THEIR wounds instead of your own.  it's a bottomless spiral from that point on.  the hooks are in deep, and you'll feel hopeless.

what happens after this can go in a plethora of directions.  the abuse will get worse, in any case.  the hitting will become steady, consistent, and expected.  you'll get used to the yelling and learn to drown most of it out, unless they're right next to your ear, or in your face .... or holding you down by your shoulders so you can't look away.  


you'll virtually stop talking to your family, and they'll notice, but won't have the slightest clue.  even if they do, they won't know what to say, and even if they did you'll argue them into the ground.  the bruises will be well hidden, and you'll double check that they are.  foundation will become your best friend, as will loose fitting clothing, long sleeves, and sunglasses.  contact with your friends will also diminish, especially with those that are stubborn and opinionated.  most of your friends will be ... your lover's friends, or mutual friends you've made together.  those are the friends that are hardest to convince you're being abused.  they'll see this suave and kind person, albeit odd at times, and will have difficulty swallowing anything negative you have to say.


soon your days will be spent inside the home.  you'll forget how to socially interact.  you'll forget 80% of the things you love.  each day will bring misery, sorrow, disgust, and self-loathing.  you might become suicidal, but honestly, you're more likely to become apathetic.  hours will run together.  sleep will be filled with nightmares and no longer be a safe haven.  sex will become abhorrent and a dutiful chore.  if you don't put out, bad things will happen.


you'll become an empty, hollow shell of the person you once were.


the abuse will get worse.  the cycles will run closer together, and pretty soon, there won't be any 'calm before the storm'.  it will always be raining.



the end result can go in only two directions.  you either leave, or you die. 


leaving seems impossible to those in that dire situation.
believe me, i've been there, and i almost died.


there are shelters and support groups.  your friends will help you unquestionably, but most won't know the right thing to say.  forgive them for that, because they mean well.  family will be supportive, but in an even worse position than your friends.  the whole scenario will probably seem foreign (obviously, specific circumstances per family will differ), but they too will mean well. 


leaving IS a viable option.
it's scary, terrifying, and you'll feel like you're leaping into the unknown.
but remember that - you've already lived through the worst of it - and it's all uphill with the first step away from that hellish life.



expect to be asked a million questions, especially the notorious "why did you stay through that?!" inquiry.
do not be ashamed to answer with an "i don't know".  it will be closest to the truth.
only time will let you understand the depths of the situation.
never be afraid to tell others you do not want to talk about it, but don't confuse this with 'never talk about it'.
the more you talk, the easier it is to cope with, and the better you'll feel. 
speak up, speak out, and be proud of leaving.  be proud of living.



if you're reading this and are currently in an abusive relationship:
there is help for you, there is hope for you, and you are too lovely of a person to continue down that road.
exercise your right to live safely and happily.
use local resources (including personal support groups/friends/family) to get out.
there is LIFE on the other side and you WILL make it.
i beg of you, my friend, to take that courageous jump forward.
you are not alone, and the relief is immeasurable.
i have faith in you, because i had faith in myself when nobody else did, and you should too.
one phone call is all it takes. 
1-800-799-SAFE (7233)

there are people who are ready to help you now.



National Domestic Violence Hotline


National Coalition Against Domestic Violence


Domestic Abuse: Signs, Warnings, Support, and Numbers


(this blog description is based upon my own experiences with abuse - personally, and as an outsider.  undoubtedly i will post more in depth stories from time to time - but take a moment out of your life to seek out other blogs of similar ilk.  they are all worth the read, and the support.)

brief.

i experienced one of those moments today that remind you, at least for a hot second, that the world isn't totally corrupt.

a little girl in holly's class, who has down syndrome, made eyes with me this morning.  she tends to keep to herself and i have never personally interacted with her before.  she walked up to me, grinning from ear to ear, and grabbed my hands.  this made her giggle, and it warmed my heart.  she then proceeded to carefully place each foot upon my own, and we did a little dance together.  it was brief .... but so very sweet .... and it left both of us feeling a little better.


i really needed that.

mornings.

the alarm went off at six this morning like it usually does, but the high pitched clanging rattled my very core today.  with a scowl that only a mother could love, i opened my eyes, and saw the deep purple haze of dawn stretching through my windows.  i sighed, yawned, and buried my face back into the pillow.

mornings are stupid.

before i could finish that thought, i heard the giggles of tiny cherubs echoing from the other room.  with heavy limbs, i pulled back the duvet, and exposed my warm skin to the frigid air lingering in my apartment.  i rubbed my face and muttered "i'm up, i'm up".

bare-legged and barefooted, i shuffled into the kitchen to find luna and holly pouring some orange juice.
(real juice, not orange drink.  the difference is vast.)
they both greeted me with a grin that vaguely reminded me of the cheshire cat.
i kissed them both on the head, bidding them a good morning, and proceeded to walk to the bathroom.

the thing you all must realize is that, with three children in a two bedroom apartment, privacy isn't something any of us are familiar with. 

that said, i had an audience whilst i peed.

"mom?  when are we going to the water park to swim?" luna asked.
"mom?  can i have cakes?!" holly chimed in.

i gave the respectable answers of "in the summer" and "no, you may not have cake for breakfast". 

that was enough to shatter their hearts for about 5 seconds before they scattered off to chase the cats into the other room.  i had to wake up gwen, oddly enough, but i've embraced that she's entered an age where sleep is almost enjoyable and no longer a chore.

the following twenty minutes were filled with fashion arguments, combing out tangles, crooked pony-tails, teeth brushing, sock finding, and a dispute between holly and i that could be heard within a one mile radius.

she had on blue pants, but dammit, she wanted pink pants.  there's no way to rationalize with a four year old, especially when pink pants are involved.  i pointed out that her multi-tone blue polka-dot shirt would not, in fact, match the pink pants.  she looked down at her blue pants, tugged at them a bit, and looked back up at me with a quivering bottom lip:  "i ... want ... PINK ... PANTS!"

gwen and luna marched merrily off into the school.
holly did not get her pink pants, and she surely let her teacher know about it.

hopefully by the end of the school day she'll have forgotten all about her pink pants.
hopefully.


and with that, i have a horrendous list of things to do today myself.
company in the car would be nice, but i'm not holding my breath.
fooey.

happy new year

shouldn't i be asleep?

why yes.  yes i should.

lots of heavy thoughts to be lost amongst tonight, i'm afraid.  the lights are dim, peaceful music is driveling in the background, and yet my mind finds no peace.  but at least i'm here.

2012 will come and go - and with hope - many good things will come with it.  it's about time.  it's always about time though, isn't it?  i'll hold onto faith in myself, in my children, and in a few others i hold dear to my heart.  if i'm lucky, unrequited love will topsy turvey itself and become something else tangible.  something i can hold onto, bury my weary head into, and breathe deeply for the first time in a long time.

financial needs will be met, obligations will be cared for, and life will be virtually happy.
these are things i hope for.

and yet, here i am, typing into an empty screen. a little box.  when i could be in bed.