The Definition of Insanity: Hate & Intolerance

Please take note that I am talking about specific people that I have an awareness of.  Most of my writing comes from awareness of actual living conditions of someone. Often such people are close to me.  So, when I am saying anything, I may not name a name because truly, I don’t want to make any bad situation worse. I simply hold the situation up to the light, hoping that others will not fall into the trap of thought that creates the arrogance that surrounds these attitudes of intolerance and hatred. 

My children, specifically, my three biological children were raised on the idea that when they grew up, they would be able to research their spirituality, religious inclinations, sexuality, gender, or whatever it was (no matter what it was) for themselves, and that I would not try to sway them.  My idea was that they’d decide for themselves what was important to them because for whatever reason, they’ve researched it or lived it, whatever.  My hope of course, that they’d make good sound decisions for themselves.  

I have watched all three grow up to be non-believers.  Each for their own set of reason(s).  I do not fault them for it.  The youngest two were taken to and participated in church services in Geyserville, Sonoma County, CA at Geyserville Christian Church.  A church that I could live with, be active in, and be proud of for it’s inclusive nature, loving stance, and non-hypocritical themes.  I do believe with all of my heart that they got some ‘good stuff’ from those experiences.

The kids were made aware that I was raised by a non-practicing 7th Day Adventist, and avid atheist.  The kids and I also attended 7th Day Camp meetings, and other of the same type of gatherings with friends, family, etc.

And while in no way, did I force the christian outlook onto the kids, neither did I insist they believe the dogma.  I simply stated that due to my childhood circumstance it was a fight to believe in God, but it made me feel better and comforted when I did.  Nothing was crammed down their throat by me, and specifically, that is because of my very own experiences as a young person.

The oldest child was stolen away from me for six years.  Father took her and ran, and hid away.  When I found an address, usually they’d already moved on, but if they had not, and I made a move to contact said child, they’d pick up and leave.  I had absolutely no involvement with her life. And this was NOT by choice.  The courts were warned that this would happen, and as far as I am concerned, they let it happen.

During this child’s time away, she grew up, and became a person that I really did not know.  She was exposed to Catholic tradition, which in and of itself, I do not see as a bad thing.  But, her distaste (i.e. intolerance, hatred)  for all things Christian leads me to believe something NOT good happened there. 

It would have been OK if oldest said she didn’t approve of youngest’s boyfriends family.  Youngest might have taken it under advisement.  Personally, I see nothing wrong with this family, and I do see an attitude of prejudgment from older daughter that frightens the bajesus out of me when I think of young people being around her. 

If oldest would have made her statement and left it alone, perhaps she might have even gotten her way, because she wouldn’t have been nagging and threatening the youngest, and causing youngest to rebel even more (which at her age, she’s going to do—it’s her age, duh!)

But the matter was forced from what I hear, with a lot of anger mixed in which in all reality made older daughter look irrational, jealous, arrogant, full of hate, and intolerance.  In fact, in her mother’s eyes, she has become the epitome of the extremist christian view only on the other side of the wall.  And she can’t even blame the middle of the ground faith of her mother for it.  She can only blame herself for falling for an extremest, hateful, and intolerant view point.  (Not all Christians are bad people,  and YOUR attitude is far less loving, than most Christians I’ve ever met.  And before you say you don’t care how I feel, let me just say, YOU ABSOLUTELY KNOW BETTER THAN THIS!)

The kids WERE warned to stay away from the fundamentalists, and extremest, as we didn’t need any more of those in this world, no matter which side of the argument they stood on.  And on an aside, I know I have mentioned at least to one of them, that they needed to be careful that they didn’t fall to an extreme attitude in the exact opposite direction of the christian fundamentalists and or any other type of extremists. 

Now, the people I am talking to right now, had at least two situations going on.  I’ve done a basic introduction to the one situation I’m going to write about.  But, I also want to mention that animal abuse is also involved with this story, and as far as concerned, now that the animal is under my care,  ALL  parties involved are as guilty of animal abuse.  The accusers were under as much moral and ethical obligation to take care of the animal as the ‘owner’, because the animal was in their home and they were watching the neglect happening and doing absolutely NOTHING except ragging on the owner: a 19 yr. old who has discovered (finally) that life and the world is FUN!  Either way, at this point, my stance on this situation is that this animal better never leave my home again.  Ridiculous is an understatement.  I’m not sure but we are looking at a chargeable offense right now.   What this animal has been through is more than neglect, it was down right mean.  Nuff said.  (I may post photos of said animal, it is sad and tragic.)

Back to the original subject of this essay.  Part of the reason said young person was kicked out of her living space (a room in an older siblings home that a boyfriend owns) is because she is seeing a young man whose parents are christian.  Participating christian in that they go to church, and apparently at least try to walk the walk and talk the talk.  I’ve never met them, but I can say, I’m very impressed by their child, and their home.  Oldest daughter and boyfriend ordered youngest daughter to stop seeing boyfriend because his parents were trying to to convert her.

And my answer to that is, “SO!?!?!?!?!?!”  Really!!!!??? Older child needs to take a step back and listen to those around her, and more than anything else, listen to herself.  She is espousing arrogance, hatred, and intolerance.  If she had a conversation with herself, and really, really listened, she’d know, she’s wrong.

There are people out there who are ‘very’ christian and are VERY GOOD people.  There is a mixture of both good and bad in every sort of human group imaginable.  But, do you hate one whole group because of one bad person?  Yes, there are stupid people out there, but does that mean that they are not sincerely trying to live a good, honest, compassionate life?

I think what is the most important in this case is that these people are loving, supportive, compassionate, involved.  Their child has been so well directed in his childhood that he’s looking at possibly becoming a nuclear engineer and you honestly think he’s not good enough for your sister?
OH, give me a break!  If someone is not good enough for another, it’s probably that you are not good enough for your own boyfriend!

The judgement that has been rendered is short sided and woefully, prejudice based on personal experiences (which were not good), and incredibly hurtful.  Oldest daughter was taught to live and let live.  Her mother NEVER tried to control her in anyway, even when said daughter, decided that Wicca was her thing.  Did I agree with it? I am open to the earth based religions only because of their tie to the planet, and the ancient human cultures.  I’ve never practiced it to any degree, and no, I do not believe for one minute that anyone can be a witch, not even a good one.  I saw said child as confused due to her very bad childhood experiences (which I had no control over).

One final paragraph to said daughter’s boyfriend:  Look at what your young daughter has now been exposed to and tell me this is NOT going to hurt her in the future.  How long do you think it is going to take before that mouth and attitude has found it’s way to being directed at YOUR daughter???  This is obviously, at this point, not run of the mill anger being spewed out in your home.  Your daughter has a beautifully UGLY example of arrogance, hatred, and intolerance before her.  And you actually want her to learn this?  It’s one thing to instill your values, it’s another to encourage these traits.  And it’s another to leave her in a situation where you know this attitude can be turned onto her — that would be child abuse.  

—-an essay under construction….

Posted in Culture, Health, Lifestyle, Mental Illnesses, Uncategorized, Womens Rights | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

My Silver Lining…

     There is always, always a cloud with a silver lining to it. It may be very hard to find, but it is there. The particular silver lining in this case is the lack of stress that has overcome my life for the past while. For months I have wanted to take the time to learn to paint. I wanted to go back to embroidery. I have wanted to get out the sewing machine and sew. I did not know why I wanted to do these things, I just knew I felt drawn. I thought perhaps some trapped artist (LOL!!! Really??) in there wanting out. More than anything else, I’ve had a sense that the hobbies would help me to relax, unwind, and put things in perspective.
     All of these months, I’ve either worked on my job (project) or my job (historical society, the Trapper, the membership, the porch project, talking to people in the media, groups, and more – and continuous work on it’s image, etc., etc., etc.) There has not been any balance to life for awhile. 
     So, my silver lining as it were, is going to be my ability to sit and truly relax. Truly enjoy my environment with nearly no worries, nearly no commitment (excluding family of course). I can turn my attention back to other things that I love: photography, gardening, friends, family – not necessarily in that order. LOL Clyde asked me recently, after watching me interact with a baby, if I had ever thought of fostering children. I had to look at him and honestly say, “all the time.” But, I also added that I did not think I’d have the energy to keep up with small ones anymore. I do not believe I have it in me to foster children anymore. But, what I do have is energy enough to go to a local school and read to a child. In some small way I can continue to contribute to society, and maybe, just maybe make some difference for someone. These will be my silver linings!!!

Posted in Womens Rights | Leave a comment

Breathe, Peggy, Breathe

I am so tired, I can not even contemplate how tired I am. It is a very emotional tired. It is probably irrational at this point. 
     I was recently very nicely admonished about using the word ‘boundary’ or ‘boundaries’.  It is a ‘trigger’ word as it was explained to me. People don’t like it.
     Same such person, when I tried to explain the reason why I come out with my boxing gloves on during a dispute shut me down and began to tell me about how his dad spanked him every single day. No one had it worse than him.
     Talk about a trigger. Do NOT bother to try and shut me down EVER again. DO NOT WASTE YOUR TIME TRYING TO BELITTLE MY EXPERIENCES. I am too old to listen to it and to sit there and even begin to absorb it. You are wasting your time, and mine. 
     I have spent the last few days working very hard to be rational and trying to understand why I am reacting to this ‘very nice’ scene where I got put in my place (they think). 
     And two of them used my health to get me to try (i.e. force me) to comply. I went into the meeting that was called feeling betrayed (but not realizing it yet). I had told the #2 about the heart failure and asked him not to tell the others yet. I needed some time to absorb my reality. I think it was a very reasonable request. Shortly I found out he called EVERYONE involved, using the excuse that I needed protecting. 
     I am very aware that a society is bigger than myself or any individual. It would not have taken me long to tell each person, alone and individually about what was going on. I knew I needed help.
     Really? with as big of a mouth as I have, do I need any more protection than I have. No one in this world watches my back better than I do. But, I will tell you, Clyde runs a very close 2nd, and NO ONE else comes near! Anyway, almost immediately, I was telling people who I felt needed to know, “don’t tell ***** any secrets, he doesn’t keep them.” It was a reaction to a perceived betrayal. 
     I knew I was angry over the betrayal of the information pertaining to my health, and my body being distributed before I was ready. I also knew I had the right to privacy. This was a man that I trusted, as if he were……. (for those who truly know me this comes as no shock at all) (drum roll)…my father!! I’ve been trying for most of my life, to find a father I could trust. This morning I got an email, that didn’t say he was sorry, but said, Jesus loves us both. Thank you for that! (I am quite aware, thank you.)
In what seems like a completely unrelated matter, this morning, in the waking hours (not that I got any sleep), I remembered the awful scene where my father basically fed my pet rabbit, Blackie, to his Greyhound. During a dog race, the dog is chasing a ‘rabbit.’ These days not real ones. But, in those days, and probably today too, they are taught to chase the rabbits with REAL rabbits. 
My sister also had a pet rabbit. My father did not touch hers. 
The problem at the time, is that I was home and was not ignorant of what was going on. I heard my pet’s screams. I knew what the dog needed to learn. But, I was by that point already a master of hiding the truth from myself. I cried. I was heartbroken. And I brushed it aside. When I finally asked where my rabbit was I was told a dog jumped into the yard, opened the rabbit cage, and killed the rabbit. Little girls have school, and friends, and other things to do. Life went on. Because of that experience and many others, my mind is very compartmentalized. I can look you straight in the eye and tell you my childhood was very good. And I can look you In the eye, believing it both ways, and tell you my childhood was very, very bad. I rarely, and not until recently did I say both view points in the same conversation, but they are both the truth in the moment that I speak them. The fact that both statements in this essay, shows that to some degree, I have integrated the reality of that situation.

This morning I got an email, that didn’t say he was sorry, but said, Jesus loves us both. Thank you for that! (I am quite aware)
     In what seems like a completely unrelated matter, this morning, in the waking hours (not that I got any sleep), I remembered the awful scene where my father basically fed my pet rabbit, Blackie, to his Greyhound. During a dog race, the dog is chasing a ‘rabbit.’ These days not real ones. But, in those days, and probably today too, they are taught to chase the rabbits with REAL rabbits. 
     My sister also had a pet rabbit. My father did not touch hers. 
The problem at the time, is that I was home and was not ignorant of what was going on. I heard my pet’s screams. I knew what the dog needed to learn. But, I was by that point already a master of hiding the truth from myself.  I cried. I was heartbroken. And I brushed it aside. When I finally asked where my rabbit was I was told a dog jumped into the yard, opened the rabbit cage, and killed the rabbit. Little girls have school, and friends, and other things to do. Life went on.

     Because of that experience and many others, my mind is very compartmentalized. I can look you straight in the eye and tell you my childhood was very good. And I can look you In the eye, believing it both ways, and tell you my childhood was very, very bad. I rarely, and not until recently did I say both view points in the same conversation, but they are both the truth in the moment that I speak them. The fact that both statements in this essay, shows that to some degree, I have integrated the reality of that situation.

     At age of 32 after major betrayals by step father, and husband (at that time)- memories came flooding back (PTSD!). I remembered the sound of my pets screams. Probably as she was ripped to pieces. (I really don’t know that part though). I asked my mother about it. She confirmed the memory and added more to the story. She boiled my pet rabbit down and used it for a college project!!!!! I believe she thought she was protecting me as a child. I wasn’t supposed to know any of it at the time. 
This morning, I came to the realization that part of the issue with the pet rabbit is that at the time, and at age 32 I felt betrayed by both of my parents. Then this morning, I realize, that I probably ate my pet rabbit, because knowing my mother and father, why waste the damn thing!

     Want to talk about a TRIGGER?! We NEVER KNOW what another human being has experienced. Nor do we know how well the experience was processed. Was it handled with love and compassion or was it flat out ignored and denied. What in the world is a child who is unguided to make of a situation like that? And who can blame the adult who unwittingly as a child protected herself with her mind — the only defense she had!

     I have said it before and I will say it again. I have found my voice. I will NOT comply when I am pretty sure that I am on the right track, especially when I have bounced off others and they feel that I am heading in the right direction. Nuff said.

Posted in Womens Rights | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

An Experiment in Poetry

I think about you every day…

Posted in Womens Rights | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

Politicians, Greed, Serving the Self, and Christian Hypocrisy.

Me: There are politicians from every nook & cranny (i.e. parties) who qualify for this a** chewing in a big big way. I suppose I could be called a leech. I have never really broken free of the poverty line– though I am still working my tail off. I do not qualify for SSDI, social security disability insurance for those who paid in via a job. But I have worked incredibly hard over the years in many different ways. There IS value in things that one human can do for another, EVEN IF there is NO exchange of the all mighty dollar. I guess SS will be an entitlement for me. Except for the fact that I stayed married to two men long enough to collect via them if I can live to 72 (I think). That in and of itself was a chore. Life with the first one was a living hell most of the time. And while I love Clyde deeply, I have earned my keep by staying at his side and supporting him and caring for him as promised in our vows. (at his sickest I bathed him, while he sat in the shower and could do no more than hang his head!) I made a promise, I continue to keep it. It helps him, it helps me, and it keeps me off the “dole”. But when it comes time – do not think for one minute that myself or people like me (especially the ‘fairer’ sex) do not consider ourselves as deserving as those who have ‘paid their way’ in dollars & cents. (Medically speaking, I have had heath issues that will lead to my eventual death for nearly my entire life, even more so now, and that is one of many of the qualifications for SSDI. So, I have worked and given to society, I feel, in substantial and meaningful ways, and yet — I would be considered a leech. I am alive today thanks to modern technology, and nothing more, so I have the experience to speak to these issues. At least, I feel this way.)

From Facebook: 

The piece that I was responding to above:

One Really Pissed Off Lady!

Dick Durbin, a Senator from Illinois calls senior citizens the Greediest Generation as he compared “Social Security” to a Milk Cow with 310 million teats. Here’s a response in a letter from PATTY NYE from Illinois … I think she is a little ticked off! She also tells it like it is!

“Hey Dick, let’s get a few things straight!!!

1. As a career politician, you have been on the public dole (tit) for FORTY YEARS.

2. I have been paying Social Security taxes for 48 YEARS (since I was 15 years old. I am now 63).

3. My Social Security payments, and those of millions of other Americans, were safely tucked away in an interest bearing account for decades until you political pukes decided to raid the account and give OUR money to a bunch of zero losers in return for votes, thus bankrupting the system and turning Social Security into a Ponzi scheme that would make Bernie Madoff proud.

4. Recently, just like Lucy & Charlie Brown, you and “your ilk” pulled the proverbial football away from millions of American seniors nearing retirement and moved the goalposts for full retirement from age 65 to age, 67. NOW, you and your “shill commission” are proposing to move the goalposts YET AGAIN.

5. I, and millions of other Americans, have been paying into Medicare from Day One, and now “you morons” propose to change the rules of the game. Why? Because “you idiots” mismanaged other parts of the economy to such an extent that you need to steal our money from Medicare to pay the bills.

6. I, and millions of other Americans, have been paying income taxes our entire lives, and now you propose to increase our taxes yet again. Why? Because you “incompetent bastards” spent our money so profligately that you just kept on spending even after you ran out of money. Now, you come to the American taxpayers and say you need more to pay off YOUR debt.

To add insult to injury, you label us “greedy” for calling “bullshit” to your incompetence.

Well, Captain Bullshit, I have a few questions for YOU:

1. How much money have you earned from the American taxpayers during your pathetic 40+ year political career?

2. At what age will you retire from your pathetic political career, and how much will you receive in annual retirement benefits from the American taxpayers?

3. How much do you pay for YOUR government provided health insurance?

4. What cuts in YOUR retirement and healthcare benefits are you proposing in your disgusting deficit reduction proposal, or as usual, have you exempted yourself and your political cronies?

It is you, Captain Bullshit, and your political co-conspirators called Congress who are the “greedy” ones. It is you and your fellow nutcase thieves who have bankrupted America and stolen the American dream from millions of loyal, patriotic taxpayers.

And for what? Votes and your job and retirement security at our expense, you lunk-headed leech.

That’s right, sir. You and yours have bankrupted America for the sole purpose of advancing your pathetic, political careers. You know it, we know it, and you know that we know it.

And you can take that to the bank, you miserable son of a bitch.

P.S. And stop calling Social Security benefits “entitlements”. WHAT AN INSULT!!!!

I have been paying in to the SS system for 45 years “It’s my money” give it back to me the way the system was designed and stop patting yourself on the back like you are being generous by doling out these monthly checks .

EVERYONE!! If you agree with what a Illinois citizen, Patty Nye, says, please PASS IT ON!!!

Further reaction from family, friends, and me: 
KA: All you need is 10yrs married to one man. Legally, I could collect from hubby#2’s social security, but I chose not to at this time.

Me: I was married to the first one for like 14–well, the divorce was final at around 16 years, I left between 14 & 15. Clyde and I have made it well over the 10 year mark at this point. Though, there might be a bit of contention legally when it comes time. But documents will prove it, and that is all I care about. Social security these days does not give you a choice (so I was told) who you draw from these days. You draw from whomever had the highest income. I can only assume, knowing my first husbands work ethic, that Clyde will have paid in far more. But who knows. In terms of survival, I’ll take what I can get and be happy. And I don’t particularly want to be called a leech or put down for doing what I have had to do over the years to keep myself and my kids safe, fed, healthy, and housed. I often did it by working very low wage jobs, 2 and 3 at a time, and yet did not make enough $$ to qualify for the ‘paid into’ programs. To think that mothering a brood of kids (alone a good deal of the time) counts as nothing in society really makes my blood boil, for without those kids, and the ethic we try to instill we have absolutely NO future for ourselves. Politicians, and a great many people, are very judgmental and short sighted. This is just my say in the matter. My 2 cents worth so to speak.

Cousin KNL: Well the repubs are planning to take soc sec and medicare away from us. So many elderly will have nothing if that happens, I thought we had learned from 1929, that people need care in their old age, and soc sec has served us well. Sure some get morethan they pay in, but some get nothing as they die before age 65, and the government keeps it. It’s an insurance, that’s why it’s called FICA. Like insurance, you pay in and can draw out when conditions are met. If you don’t use it, your heirs get nothing back (there’s the widow benefits but that’s built in). My first husband died on his 61st birthday. No I didn’t collect, I was still working and didn’t need it. I collect my own only, I’ve worked for almost 50 years so am I not “entitiled” to it? I paid a lot into it, and that’s what it was for.

I sure do fear for the future of our people if it is taken from us. elderly will just die in the ditches I guess, if they don’t have family to take them in. Of course the millionaires who make the laws and get the money now from this administration are going to be fine, and they will be happy to get rid of the old useless people.

ME: They make their living off the backs of the working people. They should be taking note of the the fact without the ‘common’ working people of this country there would BE NO living for them. Not to mention the fact, that as originally intended by the founding fathers, they were not supposed to collect money for their ‘jobs’. It was considered a public service. You did your few years and you went back home to live happily ever after. There has been an awful lot of ‘benefits’ grandfathered in over the years for our ‘career’ politicians who think so narrowly. There are a few who work hard enough to deserve it, I am sure. But, what I have seen in the recent past, leads me to believe, that most of them do not. It is 2018, and I can see that in general women are still treated like shit. And so are the uneducated (used, and abused), low income, and the likes. I am low incomed, but I am far from uneducated. Though I only have 2 two year degrees basically. I have read all my life. I soak stuff up. So, they can tell me to grow up and go home, but I’d look them in the eye and tell them to look in the mirror first. I’ll tell ya, these idiots would not want me as their President. I’d be looking for them to tow the line, for the good of ALL people — not themselves.

Cousin KNL: exactly Peggy, I’ve said that many times and I don’t understand why so many people don’t get it. The rich want us to buy the stuff their corporations make, but refuse to pay a living wage. So many people can’t even make rent, let alone buy products the corporations have for sale, It doesn’t make a lot of sense to me.

Me: The only premise that supports their train of thought is: greed, and serving the self. If they add religion into the mix as Jeff Session does, then you can toss in hypocrisy. There is very little that goes on in Washington D.C. that is “christian”

Posted in Womens Rights | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

All things Maine, the midwife, and a friend…

A lady friend, Mrs. Tipton of Umpqua, gave me a book about a year ago (or so). I have been so busy, that I am just now picking it up. And I have no time now for it, to be honest!! If you are interested in history, or women’s studies, or just plain “human” interactions within a community in a certain time, I suppose this is your book. It is based on a real life. It represents a woman who was a midwife in colonial New England. Better, for me, in Hallowell, Maine, very, VERY close to where my people come from. There are people that are named in the book, because the book is a diary that woman quite educated for her time, kept — some of those people, I am related to. Imagine the joy, when I realized that I was, by accident, and through a gift of generosity, and shared love of people and history, that I discovered this little fact. I read on, and a Moore family, is mentioned in the book. I still need to investigate it — but, with the knowledge that I have of the Moore family that is attached to the Floed-Lane House in Roseburg, and the Moore family mentioned in the book, are probably extensions of the very same family. My world becomes ever smaller as I piece these puzzles together. A book like this is a dream come true for a person like me. I soak this up. While this woman, Martha Ballard, was working the country side and delivering some 800 babies, my great great grandparents, were RIGHT there…. having children, working their farms, and carrying on the daily business of their life. The book is based in Hallowell, Maine. My people were only an hour away. And since my people came from the ‘south’ (New Hampshire, Connecticut, Massachusetts) – and the common mode of transportation for both areas were the Kennebec River, there is a good chance, that Martha and my folks were aware of each other- at least. Knowing that this story does not represent just a woman in Maine, and in colonial New England, but represents women from all ages, and cultures in many ways, it is fascinating to me. Knowing that it has won the Pulitzer prize, just ads to the luster of the whole situation. It gives me a very, very accurate window in which to place my very own history. And gives me a way to “walk” where my people walked. I wish, I could give everyone in my family a copy, especially all females! I believe in understanding what our ancestors had to go through –so that we might more appreciate what they went through to make our world what it is today. And so that I can understand what makes me, me. It is called, “A Midwives Tale.” The main character, a real person, is Martha Ballard. It was written in 1990 and from 1785 to 1812. And it is most certainly a GOOD read! 


Posted in Womens Rights | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

How to be President of a Historical Society

I wonder, as President of a historical society, if my primary job isn’t to raise the consciousness of fellow board members about what it is that they are CHOOSING to love. It is correct in my mind, to point out that paint tools, and containers have no place on an unprotected artifact (aka, a trunk from the Lane Family descendants). I see it as a blatant disrespect to the Lane Family, to the descendants who donated them, and to the membership and community members who support the society. And I really don’t give a crap that the word “boundary” is a trigger word. Its an issue when an artifact is so disrespected. Am I stickler for detail? You better believe that when it comes to protecting the past, so that we might better define our present and future, you better damn well believe it!!! I need to step down as President. I am hurting people’s feelings I guess. But, I see it as my job to point things out so that they do not happen again. I try to do it carefully because I know that the new folks are learning about how to be ‘in love’ with the artifacts they have committed to protect. I never even called anyone out personally. I sent out a general notice. My term lasts approximately 2 more years. I want to try and finish it up. Then I will go my own way.

Posted in Womens Rights | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

“Of course he’s an *hole, but he’s getting the job done.”

Clyde and I had a discussion the other day. We’ve been talking a lot lately. We have good communications, but something has changed — we are talking even more. Imagine that! Spouses who actually get along, and carry on conversation. We were talking about Trump supporters. Neither of us really understand the logic: “of course he’s an a**hole, but he’s getting the job done.” My first reaction is that they are uneducated and not bothering to read about what has gone on the past 30 or 40 years, as this man has a very well documented life of sex abuse toward women, some domestic violence, and apparently of not following the law in terms of tax law, etc. His ethics are appalling to say the least.

But then I thought about it more. You know what really gets to me about Trump supporters. If I were to abuse someone with less power than myself, a child, or an elder, I’d be thoroughly chastised by the system and thrown in jail. Being who I am, I’d probably chastise myself and tell me that the law is the law. Period.

But, the message that Trump supporters (via the conservatives) send is that the law really only applies to a few. IF you are one of the “elite” , in particular a white male, as long as you get the job done, it doesn’t matter how you break the law.

I see that as a lack of integrity, and ethic. That is what bothers me the most about a Trump supporter. None of us are perfect. But, I do believe in the basic goodness of the human race, and that most of us do our best to try and not hurt other human beings. So, why is it ok to give this man who is not nearly as smart as he believes himself, and has absolutely no respect for the law, nor other people who do not suit his purpose more power?

I see a basic flaw in the conservative logic. And this is why, I will probably never be known as a conservative again. I may never be 100% liberal, but, I will not ever be a conservative.

Posted in Womens Rights | Leave a comment

Just read the piece by Alyssa Milano

Just read the piece by Alyssa Milano. Talk about a classy lady who minces no words, and lays it all out on the line and eloquently. Wow!

So, now we have the #WhyIDidntReport hash tag. There are as many reasons as there are women and girls who have been assaulted. Once you have been assaulted studies show there is a pretty good chance you’ll be assaulted again. It’s like those who are attacked wear a sign on their foreheads. I was a preteen the first time I was touched inappropriately by an older girl. I was attacked in high school next by a fellow student in a back room of the library. But, at the time(s), I really wasn’t old enough to know to tell. The 2nd time, I told my mother. I did not realize that it was serious at all. The young man was not allowed back into any classroom where I was. He scared the crap out of me. I learned a valuable lesson.

      I learned more from my family of origin where as a little, little girl I watched my father beat up my mom. You don’t tell. You suck it up. Deny it. You build a wall, and try to stay away from the consequences of the violence you have seen, and lived. You move on. When you finally get around to sharing with people, they deny it. They ignore you and pretend they don’t hear you. My family is royally rich in the gift of denial. I thought at one point, I should tell my husband what happened to me as a preteen. (Not the current husband, the EX). I was so ashamed. I thought it was completely all my fault. I thought, I was completely crazy. I never cried that hard again until I was in my 40’s. His response was not to say, “I’m sorry honey, you had to go through that.” Instead he asked me to sleep with his sister, and let him watch! It was another 15 years before I attempted to tell anyone else about it. Women, and girls, and sometimes boys and men, are demeaned, disrespected and in a real (emotional) way, disassembled, and raped again.

     There really is no permanent safe place for those that need it most. Even if there were there is so much self loathing, and disrespect for ourselves that we’d probably say we didn’t need it until years and years after the fact. My experience is that there is no such thing. I have found temporary respite from my history over the years. I have had some very caring therapists. I’ve had some loving friends. I flat out choose to ‘tell’ the wrong people, but at the time, I thought I did the right thing. What I have learned is there will never be justice – nor respect or support from the very people whom I needed it the most from. In the end, the way I have found to win my case, is to live my life the best I can, and not let the ‘bad guys’ win. I live honestly, legally, and I give, and I protect those who are weaker than I. That is how I choose my ‘justice’. I hold my head up, I know my truth, I march on.

Posted in Womens Rights | Leave a comment

Thirty Five Years Ago Today…

My father passed away from chronic heart disease. He had congestive heart failure due to a heart weakened from rheumatic fever as a baby, genetic weaknesses, caused by familial inherited (very) high blood pressure.  He had coronary artery disease and had his first heart attack at 32 years of age.  It killed 1/3 of his heart. I was ten years old, and incredibly impressionable.  He soon had a triple bypass which gave him ten more years of life.  Some time during the process he decided to leave the wife and kids, and did.  I never really missed him. Until he was 100% gone, and then it took quite a bit of time.  I finally cried about five years later, when I realized that I did actually have fun things to share with him, and that it really was too late.

My ACE (Adverse Childhood Experiences) score is very high.  My father contributed to that in a big big way. So, to say that he’s this great guy well, there were great things about him. He was not on a day to day course, a great guy.  For the record, he did offer an apology before he died.  I believe today that the apology, which was not very specific, has helped me to at least put his actions ‘away’ somewhere.  I try to leave that particular drawer closed.  I don’t want to see anymore.  That is until I want to see.

He once ran over a dog, to get even with my mother while they argued.  I am pretty sure he killed it.  We had a little dog given to us (the family) and he, named Pepper, peed on the brand new carpet.  Said dog was new to the household and family.  My father chased that little dog around the house like a mad man.  He was more than visibly angry, he was enraged.  When he finally got that little dog cornered, he took the belt that he had in his hands, and struck that dog and laid the little dogs head wide open.  It was a heavy, brass belt buckle. How Pepper lived through that, I will never know.  Mom did take him to the vet.  I sure that the vet and mom’s nursing skills helped at least some.   Somewhere on this blog, I mention that I remember hanging on my fathers knee, (that is all the taller I was).  I begged him to stop hitting, “mommy”.   Another time, I remember him flinging dishes across the length of the kitchen.  Mommy and we (self and sister) were going somewhere.  Dishes broke over the top of my head.  My sister was still young enough to be in a stroller,  and I was holding my mother’s hand.

And this is the shit I remember! There is so much more I could add.

This week has been hard emotionally and physically for me.  I learned that I have congestive heart disease.  The doctor who diagnosed it is not a cardiologist.  He is flummoxed, there is no physical reason for it.  I have clean arteries, my valves are good.  I just don’t pump the blood I need.  Go figure.  I am only 56 years old.   And I do want to live.  But, in my way, I’ve spent years trying to kill myself too.  If you were to really look, and if I let you really see, you’d see that I am scarred up from the top of my head all the way to my toes.

I learned to deal with the violence I saw from a young and tender age by using self harming behaviors.  The first time I remember the self mutilation was when I was still young enough to have a cuddle blanket, and sit on the floor in front of the television, sucking my thumb, and watching cartoons.  I made myself bleed.  Dad came out of the bedroom, stomped through the living room and out through the front door.  He scared me to death, I hid my bloody calf under the cuddle blanket, a baby quilt made especially for me.  I got away with it over and over again.  Probably hundreds of thousands of times.  The behavior is sand blasted into my brain.  It never really stops.  One behavior simply substitutes for another, and it all comes back around.  I bite the insides of my lips, pull out my eye lashes, and eye brows, I eat and eat and eat – and I make myself bleed over and over and over again.

A nurse at the hospital this week, (remember, I am 56 years of age) was trying to find a suitable place to draw blood, made comments about how scarred up I am.  I informed him that I grew up with some pretty bad, dysfunctional assumptions, that it was self-abuse.  Some people do meth or cocaine, I made myself self bleed or deformed.  It is a form of self-medication, as twisted and weird as it seems.  I think in all honesty, that if the small child had been looked at and truly seen, then told that none of it was her fault, that maybe she’d stop. (the old, ‘if, then’ programming)   But, for now, she carries on and screams out, creating scarring everywhere – a symbol of the fight to be, a symbol of the fight back then.  The fight when those big people did nothing more than pin her down – it becomes a symbol of the wanting of peace and love, and for those around her to learn to be gentle.   It really is just a scream.

I find it interesting that this news came so close to my dad’s death anniversary. I’ve always known that he and I had some invisible tie.  But, I do not know what it was or is. I never understood it.  Whatever it was, it was strong enough that the day he died, when I was 3000 miles from the man, I knew someone somewhere was having a problem. It bothered me so much that I was pretty frantic.  At the time, my husband (now ex) was working on a roof.  So, I thought maybe he fell off.  But, I also know that I never really felt it was him.  What it was, was my father dying.  So, yeah, some kind of tie that bound us together and will for the rest of forever…

He and I were not particularly close as I grew up.  There were fun things that he did for us girls, and with us girls.  But the terror, that I felt when around him, pretty much left me
in a very tempered stance.  I was always bracing for a backhand, or something else. There was a ton of mental space between he and I.  I accepted his praise when it came and I dodged the bullet when he was not happy with me, or someone else – anyone, really.

My maternal grandparents, are the people who kept sanity alive and well in life.  They let me know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I was loved.  There was affection and encouragement.  They considered my father’s side of the family uncivilized, and I am sure that probably is an understatement.

Education is the key to this whole mess.

I wonder how many of us will die fairly young and younger, before our society realizes what real damages have been done by bullies who perpetuate and pass on the damage that has been done to them from the generation before that!  What it takes is education.  Education is the key to this whole mess.  This is not about political correctness.  This is about the emotional, and physical harm that comes to children of both sexes. It is the harm that makes children sick, and kills young women and men, regardless if the death certificate says ‘suicide’ or by ‘disease’. I think my certificate will read that death is by “broken heart” and I think that would be very accurate in every imaginable way.

This is not death by disease — this is a broken heart.  A heart killed by hurt, threats, violence, dismay, isolation, insanity, rejection, being used, piled on, hit, twisted, tortured, raped in every way, insulted, put down, demeaned, made to feel small, neglect, shoved down,  rejection… rejection…

I realize that he was probably abused.  I’ve heard some God awful stories about my grandfather.  At least two of the eight siblings at one point or another accused him of
being a molester.  In his defense, grandpa was dead by that point and could not have argued back.  But it all started somewhere.  Dad had some pretty ugly stories about being taken behind the woodshed and beaten.  He felt that he was the black sheep of the family.  And as sad as that seemed to make him feel, he never realized that he made one of his daughters feel pretty  much the same way.  Probably a case, of him, not being able to climb out of his past, and entering into a more healthy future.

What I have learned through my quest of genealogical insights is that this cycle is
very generational.  The elder mistreats the younger.  The younger fights to live through it, and then becomes the elder.  The cycle is perpetuated this way.  To make matters worse, there is generations of history where parents approved of young (as in teenagers) women marrying men 20 and 30 years their senior because the man was settled, had built a life for himself, and could provide well for his woman-child, and children.  This culture  has left a trail of victims of physical, emotional, and verbal abuse.  The women believing their vows meant forever, left them feeling stuck and so they stayed there.  Rape was condoned, probably even encouraged.  After all, every good man deserved an heir and farm hand.  Women have been taught to submit for literally generations upon generations.

I was the oldest, so I was pretty safe in terms of my father wanting an heir.  One mistake was OK, I guess.  But, when my little sister was born he stated to the doctor that she was the wrong sex.  The conversation ended with the doctor telling him to put her back himself.   What my father said spoke volumes about the value of a little girl child, even in ‘modern times,’  after all we are talking about 1965.  Gloria Stienem was alive.

Thankfully, my sister was a large baby (over 10 lbs if my memory serves me right), and
dad was not afraid to handle her.  We have a photo of him holding my sister.  Apparently he was afraid to hold me.  I was over 8 lbs, I think.  So, on top of all else, he and I probably never got that bonding that parents seem naturally drawn to with their children.  The bonding that the child’s very life depends on.

So, this week, I found out that I have congestive heart failure.  I have not even seen a
cardiologist yet.  I have no clue what the answers are to my conundrum.  I am putting a lot of thought into my situation.  I have known for sometime that I’d eventually reach this point.  I’ve always known, or at least had an instinctual feeling that I would not live to see a truly old age. I have taken care of myself the best I could.  My arteries are clean.  I have no valvular issues.  There is no physical or structural reason that my heart is not pumping 2/3 of the blood that I need to function.

Because, physical damage is not what is wrong here, I’d have to say that the origins of this are what I already knew and expected.  Number 1: I have a birth defect.  My natural pacer stopped working properly when I was a teenager, when I started passing out, at least once a month, and often more than that.  At age 42, it was discovered that not only do I pass out, but I go code blue.  My heart stops, restarts eventually, and I then come back in Afib. So, I got a pacemaker.

Being abused as a child sets you up for multiple experiences of stresses.  I believe that stress took a birth defect and twisted it every which way anyone can imagine it.  Growing up abused, landed me  into an abusive marriage, then to taking up with an abusive boyfriend,  living with unavoidable and unloving flak from members of the family who think that what I say is a lie, and that I’d stop  or should stop talking about what I think about (all the time),  has all taken its toll.  And the toll is the ultimate price: health, a good life is a destroyed life.

As you become educated you realize that most of your relationships, with nearly every one, even with your ‘girlfriends’ are dysfunctional.  I can only speak for me here, but I started cleaning house years ago.  Of course, it took my step father molesting one of my children (over and over, and over) before I could wake up (become conscious) enough to realize what was going on.  By then it’s too late because the next generation has been abused, and has built up an unhealthy defense system, and then you have the stress of that child trying to grow up in a very confusing world made more confusing by most family members ignoring, or denying the abuse and in the case of said child’s father, heaping on yet more.  (Said step-father went to jail.  The judge said it was the most under charged case he’d ever seen.  Mom {me}  worked with the DA who said the case was undercharged to so that the case could be won, and said perpetrator could be made to go to jail, and later on, file as a sexual predator once he was released.)

The beginning of my adulthood was being married to a young man who had to have grown up in some horrible circumstances.  I got beat almost every night.  Of course, he was playing with me, and had no clue why I felt so abused.  That was the exact same stance that dad took.  Both of them were just wrestling, and meant for it to be fun and playful.
But, when that little girl, or young woman is reduced to tears, and has visible bruising on her body (along with broken teeth), then something is wrong.  Behaviors need to stop, be reviewed, and people need to realize that the behavior(s)  needs to stop for the emotional well being of the little children and/or vulnerable young woman.  Before I left that man, I had been so beaten down that I could not enter a bank with out profuse tears.  I could not hold a job at all.  I still have trouble with that one, and I am 56 years old.  Once I decided to leave him, emotionally, I still was at the point where I did not make a move until I had checked in with a HEALTHY friend to make sure my choice was rational, and a good one.
I did NOTHING unless I’d bounced off of someone else first.  I had been told I was an “empty headed play thing” way too many times, and had come to believe that I was insufficient as I was told I was.  To justify that sentence, just know that I had been told many times by my ex, that I could not make decisions for myself because I never thought of the consequences first.  He literally told me to let him make all the decisions in MY life.

My thoughts now, are that he probably got that lecture from his father, and he was just passing on the helplessness to someone he could control.

Let me just say with the ex husband and boyfriend I did try to fight back.
But, I soon learned that even a physically strong woman is no match for a strong young man, especially when she has had no self defense training.  Believing in my marriage vows,  and believing  that the relationship is forever, especially with the first husband – eventually the girl has to demure, give up, retract, give in.

Before I was married, I had this little girlfriend who was just a year or so older than me.
She wanted to play big girl games.  I did say no at first.  But, the harm that had come previously set me up to become even more a young girl who could not and would not fight back. Eventually this ‘molest’ became enjoyable, and I had to learn to live with that.  What made this a ‘molest’ was not the age difference.  What made this very wrong, was the power imbalance that was there.  Her personality was powerful compared to mine, she had questions, and actions that she wanted to explore.  She refused to take NO for an answer.  Looking back at it, there were no healthy moments when that happened.  I grew up with a great deal of shame around that situation.  At ten years of age, I thought I was to blame.  At age 20, the first person I ever told about this situation was my ex husband.  I cried and cried because I thought I was “crazy” and it was all my fault. I begged him not to take any future children away from me.

His answer was to ask me to sleep with his sister. He wanted to watch.  

Let me say that one more time.  His answer was to ask me to sleep with his sister.  He wanted to watch.

I was terrified by life.  I was terrified by people. I was completely TERRORIZED.
That situation started on my tenth birthday.  I have no idea how long it lasted.
Later in life, I never slept with his sister. But, the shame of being asked fell on me, and I had no one to share it with.  So, I carried that along with all the rest of my childhood scars.

It just got piled on.

I think my heart might be tired.  It has had enough.  My elders, 98% of them simply asked too much from the little girl.  There was no perfect behavior.  She was incapable of that.  Early on, both parents made it quite clear where I stood in life.  Twice my mother informed me as a little girl, that she could never trust me again. Those were HUGE words, to this little girl.   My parents, were people capable of doing good things, but, I believed they had a daughter that they did not want.   I grew up sure that I was adopted, and wishing I were if I had not been.

Can it be any wonder that I have PTSD?  How could my heart, my mind, and my body not be exhausted.  How do I continue to fight, and keep my head above water?  My only answer is to say, that you surround yourself with beautiful and supportive people and you move one step at a time, until you over come what you can.  One baby step at a time.

I have worked very, VERY hard at recovery.

I will fight.  I will do what the heart doctor tells me to do.  I want to live.  I want to go on.

But, for those who study this phenomenon, let my voice be heard and counted.  The consequences of a dysfunction in a family, the trauma endured by the child – the damage is great and lifelong.  It is LIFE ENDING.  EVEN DECADES AFTER THE FACT.  I can’t say that I will EVER get over it.

Posted in Announcements, Children's Rights, Genealogy General, General News, Health, History, Lifestyle, Mental Illnesses, Rowe, Sexual Assault, Uncategorized, Womens Rights | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment