1-12-2017 Homework done for the Women’s Group

Some of my FamilyMy family in the living room during Christmas, in Newark, CA:
L to R- Alvin C. Rowe, my little sister, Pam, my mother, Pat, myself.  In the very front, my Uncle Tom Coop.  In the back L to R: My grandfather, Earl Coop, Peggy Coop (Uncle Tom’s then wife), Lorine Coop (my grandmother).  I was about 14 or so when this pic was taken.  I’m not supposed to post pics of my mom.  But, I’ve kind of reached the point, where I just don’t care what she wants.
She really was never THERE anyway….

(Group is for Women with PTSD-{Post Traumatic Stress Disorder})

DO NOT read this if you are squeamish or have emotional problems that you can not deal with. IF you read this and it hits home, I suggest you call your therapist, or at least a very, very good, supportive friend.

What to do:
Make a list of things you’ve never told anyone, but want to be able to talk about.  

  • I want to know what dad and uncle Tom were fighting about when I was so very little.  What was so important that Uncle Tom thought he had to fight for me.  What did dad do to me?  When I asked Uncle Tom what is was, he could not answer me.  He had told me about his bar brawls, and other things.  But could not tell me what dad did to me.   I have the tendency to think the worst.  I have no one to talk to about this.  My uncle Tom is deceased.  He was on his last legs when he told me this.  I did not insist on him telling me the rest of the story because he was sick, and I am a respectful person.  He was obviously not comfortable going any farther than he did.  My grandparents probably knew about it, and they are gone.  My mother won’t speak to me because I am the child from hell.  I’ll tell ya, she didn’t know what a REAL child from hell is… I was a really good kid!!  I’m not tooting my horn to be full of myself, I was just a good kid.  The only person in the family to talk to is my sister.  I don’t consider this an option. She’s almost 3 years younger than I am.  My reality was not her reality.  We were treated differently.  She was favored.  I’d like to say that I remember that part all wrong, but my uncle also told me that he and my grandparents would sit around the dinner table and talk about it.  They were very concerned about me.  I asked him why they didn’t do something.  He said they were afraid they’d be cut off from us kids.  OF course, they could never help then.  Believe me—they made the all the difference for me.  They made the difference between life and death, they were the light in my very dark world.  
  • I like to tell someone how when Scott asked me to sleep with his sister that it felt like a huge fist going into my gut.  It broke my heart. I really did not know why at the time that it broke my heart.  I just really knew how bad it made me feel. I was really hurt. Deep down hurt, even a betrayed kind of feeling. Today, I know that he was not really hearing me.  What was a ‘confession’ made in complete and utter despair, where I honestly thought I was a ‘crazy’ person—TODAY, I know there was no empathy there.  The only thing he got out of the situation was probably ‘turned on’.  Just writing this makes me sick to my stomach still.  Thirty years after this conversation with him, and another 40 years after the incident actually happened.  While trying to talk to him, I was ‘admitting’ to something that I had no words for yet.  I did not really know what I had done wrong, I just knew that something had happened, and it made me feel really, really horrible.  I know NOW that I was molested by a slightly older girl. The fact that I was 10 years old and had the thought to say no, and then to give in, I think that is what made me feel like I was the one to blame.  I was a passive child who never thought to tell her parents about what happened. Truth be told, I probably figured I’d get a really good spanking. But, I do not remember thinking it through in anyway.  I don’t know if I did or not.  At some point or points, I took 100% blame for it even though I was younger, and not even the aggressor. I still have not begun to even realize all the damage this did to my childhood, or to me as a young & middle aged adult.  When the person came to visit me in Ohio, I still was feeling horrible about it.  I admitted to my then mother in law what had happened.  She really reacted poorly.  She said that whole situation was SICK, SICK, SICK.  Between the reactions from mother and son, I went back underground with it.  It was obviously nothing that was safe to talk to anyone about ever.  I did not try to talk about to anyone again until after my child was ‘molested’.  It was still nothing that anyone wanted to hear.  So, I have kept mostly all thoughts to myself in regards to this situation.  So it takes me such a long time to realize things like, I’ve struggled my whole life with my sexuality.  As I learned a new word it became a new struggle.  Am I lesbian? Am I bi?  Was I in anyway in the wrong? Why is it so hard for people to talk about?  Of course, I realize now (at 55) the crux of my problem with Scott.  He had no empathy.  Of course, I felt so safe in the home I grew up in that I could not face my parents.  That part is easy to see now that I look back.

probably not done with this homework yet….

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ACEs Study — Old News is New to Me!

January 4, 2017

Reading a book about the ACEs study from the late 90’s. I’m sure it made headlines. I guess I was too busy to notice. I’ve read the first two chapters. I am sure that I am, along with many others, living proof of the damage that ‘Adverse Childhood Experiences’ can affect an adults life. Took the ACEs test, and got a score of 6. Recognized the test as one my newest therapist gave me two weeks ago. I wonder now if she gave me the same score as I gave myself. I can tell you, it won’t be any lower on her scale. Amazing what science knows these days about how life experiences can affect your health. If I were not so tired, I’d read two more chapters tonight!

January 5, 2017

Read more in that book about the ACEs study today. Took the test with Clyde…he got a 7. 0 is considered ‘normal’. My two older girls got a 4 and my boy is a 7, and my youngest is at least a 2 or 3. Of course, my taking the test for the kids, gives me a ball park idea..which I already had, and it depended on me being 100% honest about choices I’ve made in the past….where I put myself and my kids. Not necessarily in the best places. Like most parents I did the best I could at the time, and can look back and just want to kick my own self in the butt. But, had the thought while reading through this stuff on how one or two people in a child’s life can make so much difference in how the children are affected. I just knew I was adopted, and yet I look so much like my father, that he could have never disowned me if he wanted to. That was how disconnected I felt as a child from my parents. The place that I felt 100% wanted and loved was when I was with my grandparents (Earl & Lorine Coop). In my mind, they saved my life. Clyde has special people in his life that he feels the same way about. My kids will probably have some special attachments like that, though I am sad to say none of them had grandparents that they could count on. That is the saddest part of their lives for me. That they did not know the love of a grandparent. There are millions of such people out there. Clyde’s special people was a boy scout leader, and a parent of a friend. Good people make so much difference in a child’s life. If ever you wonder what is the point– then remember that is one of the points. Anyone can be good to a child, and that good can make all the difference. It takes only a smile, a hug, a kind word, empathy, understanding.

 

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You are special to me

You are special to me

You are special to me

Graphic, “I AM…” ©2016, Peggy Ann Rowe, All Rights Reserved.
DO NOT Copy without the author’s written permission. 
Thank you very much for the respect. Peg

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The Nightmare: “When Trump Stole the Election”

I’m in a group for Women w/ PTSD. Our assignment (aka commitment) this week was to say something about a gift that our trauma caused us to have.  This past week has been mostly about waking up from a nightmare called, “The nightmare: The Day Trump Stole the Election.”   Maybe it’s an unending movie, think, “Groundhog Day.”

I’ve been ranting, and raving… writing half hearted poetry, unending essays,
integrating the trauma that caused the trigger (I hate that word) that Trump
managed to set off.  I’ve been posting like some posting robosomething to this
blog and my Facebook page…  Down with Trump, who by chance will NEVER,
EVER be my President.

For my homework the 1/2 done poem:

To those of you who say I am sick, I say…

I am sweet, I am honest,
I am up front
and in your face.
I can be brutal,
I am brave.
I have courage,
to talk about things
you consider stupid.

What you see as sickness in me,
I see as a social malady
After all consider this,
It is America
that created me (1962-??)

All you see
in the reflection of me
is YOUR truth
& you’d rather deny that be.

I am strong,
I shine brightly,
I do not choose my battles lightly.

I would not count myself
As holier than thou
I challenge your thought,
Do you think of circumstance
that cannot be bought?

I’d like to think
that you are closer
to feeling the tear
that fell down your cheek.

I will scream
I will shout
I will do what it takes
to get the message out.

That people need to think again,
If they think “The Don” is going to win.
I have grit
I’m willing to fight
Any man willing to grope
and grin.

It’s not funny
Please do not laugh
I’ve got gifts a plenty
they’ve helped me down my path.

 

Gifts my abuse gave to me

  • Strength
  • A particularly big mouth
  • The gift of the poet?
  • A love of reading & writing
  • A lot of empathy
    Imagination
    Sometimes, Patience

11/09/2016 © Peggy  Ann Rowe, All Rights Reserved

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Not MY President

Found a delightful photograph to add to my collection here. Will try and leave it up until the Narcissist IN CHIEF (the top Thief) is out of office. My guess is that it will make me sick long before that date and I’ll take it down. But for now, it stays.trump

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More Thoughts about Trump as a President, Man, Molester & Thief.

One thing that came to me today. The argument that there have been Presidents that were as ‘not perfect’ as Trump is not perfect today. Really, I get to rob a bank and get a get out of jail card for free because there was a bank robber there before me?? Or maybe the people on the other side of the isle see me, and then I’m caught, and I’m in trouble anyhow?

You know, so much of this has to do with consciousness. I was in my late 20s and early 30’s when Clinton was in office. I had two kids-one of them had behavior issues. I was going through a nasty divorce with custody issues. I had just put my step-father in jail for hurting my oldest child. I was just learning about domestic violence in all of its forms. I was going to college and pulling in good grades. My ex was not helping with child support unless the state pulled him into court and threatened him. I was a single mom for 10 years, raising 2-4 kids (depending on the time frame.) Clinton passed welfare to work, and I didn’t get to finish the higher degree I wanted which bounced between Psychology, CIS (computers), or a mix of the two. I worked two to three part time jobs at a time to keep the bills paid.

I also started my own business of working on computers to make a living I’ll tell you it was all I could do to keep my head above water. I knew about Lewinski, and I thought Clinton was a piss pour choice for President. I was happy he was impeached, and I thought HIllary should have left him. But that was not my call. What I felt at the time was appropriate I think. So, Bill Clinton was not perfect. And that means we should let Trump off the hooK?? I’m sorry that that is really poor logic and YOU need to take a critical thinking class (YES! I’ve taken one, necessary for the degree I do have.)

We have something called a social conscious. This is something that we Americans have all together…or something the whole world has together. I think the idea came about thanks to Jung. But, don’t quote me on that. Either way, the idea is that an idea has come into the minds of everyone, and everyone kind of acts on it together. What I am trying to say is that we as a society, no matter how we rationalize Mr. Trumps behavior… if we look away, turn our backs, or say there were other bad Presidents too (as if that made any of it ok!) … His BAD behavior is still bad behavior, and he’ll make a poor President because of it, and no matter what you say or do, you all know that I am right! You all choose to look the other way. And I hate to say it, but I know some who profess a love of God. That just kills me. Because often they preach good behavior for the good of society, their home, school. They then feel they have the right to judge the rest of us for all the things we have done wrong, and then they vote for Trump and make excuses for him. You simply can’t have it both ways. Life doesn’t work that way.

You can call my ideas sick. You can call me a liar. You can tell me that I am overreacting. But the truth is, you know that I’m not any of those things. All I am is a person who sees a truth, and I am pointing out to you, your hypocrisy I’m pointing out to you that you sold us down the river. That our country will not be better off by having a perpetrator for President, and a porn star for the first lady. Anyone who believes they will be good for us really needs to look deep inside themselves and question their motives, and their ethics. Because not okay, means NOT OKAY, no matter how you twist the truth!.

From Wikipedia in Regards to Trumps’ groping women below the belt: “Grabbing a woman’s vulva without consent is considered sexual assault in most jurisdictions in the United States. Many attorneys and media commentators characterized Trump’s statements as describing acts of sexual assault. Lisa Bloom, a sexual harassment expert and civil rights lawyer, stated: “Let’s be very clear, he is talking about sexual assault. He is talking about grabbing a woman’s genitals without her consent.” Trump and some of his supporters claimed that Trump was not saying he committed a sexual assault, or denied that groping is sexual assault. Journalist Emily Crockett says that this is further evidence of a trend to minimize sexual assaults against women.”

And this ok with who??? Obviously I agree with Ms. Crockett. How could so many
rationalize Mr. (ahem, no gentlemanly respect intended) Trump grabbing of
a woman below the belt let alone vote him in for President.  Our society
has a sickness, and it’s healing must begin NOW!

No Melania Trump, I will NOT accept Mr. Trump’s apology.
There is NO need for me to accept the word of any person
who is a perpetrator of sexual assault!

When a woman is grabbed between the legs this is the message they receive:

I am not honored
I am given no respect
I do not matter,
my needs are derelict

There is no comfort
Everybody could see
He really didn’t give a damn
of how painful it could be.

I am not a person
I have no need for warmth
Not even human
Else he’d left me alone-

I was no better than a something
To be used over and over again,
He called me his, “Empty headed plaything.”
All that time I thought I was loved.

I was not honored
I was given no respect
How many showers later
Did it take to drive away the dirt?

It didn’t matter
All the times I asked him to stop
Once was more than enough

How many tears will it take
before you know that it was wrong.

The major conclusion-
I was not loved.
He used and abused me
And threatened more of the above.

I was not a person-
He told me I could not think
I was incapable of choosing
All that was right for me.

I was not honored
I was given no respect
I did not matter,
my needs were derelict.

©11/14/2016 Peggy Ann Rowe, All Rights Reserved.

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Micheal Moore & Me

Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think I’d agree with this man about anything. Wow…. growing up can be so painful! lol

https://www.good.is/articles/moore-five-point-plan

A conversation between myself and a friend:

My friend: You do know he owns 9 homes? He IS one of the rich. I used to be a fan, but seeing how he hasn’t done a darn thing for the common good except make fun of others…I gave up on him.

My Answer: Yup, he found a way to make money. No denying that one. But, his arguments work and that’s what matters to me at the moment. It’s a rallying call, and it’s one that some people need. I need some grounding in this environment we call the United States. I choose to ground myself with the movement that started at the beginning of this election cycle…and I refuse to give into people who frankly, in my opinion, have no clue what the real people go through in their lives. I’ll never go back now… I’ve outgrown conservatism for the most part. It is restrictive, it stunts the growth, it is cold, it is righteous, and I have no need for it. It no longer clothes me, nor does it make me feel safe.

 

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You Closed Your Eyes, You Shuttered Your Ears

(My answer to YOU voting in a perpetrator of sex crimes in as our next President of the United States)

(c)11/9/2016, Peggy Ann Rowe. All Rights Reserved.

You closed your eyes
You shuttered your ears
You did not see it
So it did not count

But if it were your kid
who got groped below the belt
My guess is that his face
Might have seen the other end
of your baseball bat.

You bought into the myth
You resigned yourself
You grew up to become
The people you used to talk about.

You sold out
You gave it all up
Now the lady we love
Can be tossed all about.

How will it feel
When you realize
That the bear did shit in the woods,
The tree in the forest did make a noise?

Hypocrisy is not pretty.
Silence is Golden
Complacency sucks
the life out of many

But you’ve gone and done it
You’ll need to own it
Someday you’ll have the chance
To dress YOUR daughter in it!

I’ve worn those big girl panties all my life
I’m the beginning of the backlash,
I’m the voice of the damned-
I’m reminding you of the child
You failed to protect.

You gave in.
You sold us out.
You pretended that it’s not what its all about.
You are pretty smart.
You could have figured this out.

But you closed your eyes.
You shuttered your ears.
You gave in
You sold us out.

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Looking for something cool?

Started a new store today… sort of. I’m in the process of making ideas into realities to sell. If you have an idea, let me know.  A t-shirt design is below.

https://www.gearbubble.com/gbstore/wearinourgenes
Peg

Proud to be McClaskey

Proud to be McClaskey

 

 

 

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Poetry in Motion

Tygh Valley, Oregon (Hwy. 197)

Tygh Valley, Oregon (Hwy. 197)

Wanted,
A Human
A Friend
Someone who dances
Who is free
Who will wait and see
Tomorrow, Today, whatever day
Seizes the moment,
Sings happily-
Cries when they need to,
Does it with honesty.
Remembers their friendships
Treasures them all,
Bereft of the moments
that need to be thrown to the atoll.
Human to touch,

Human to feel,
One that loves,
One or many.
Makes no excuses
Won’t live a lie
Harmful to no one
Loyal to goodness
Mirror thyself
Walk on the beach

Take a book
Answer to no one
Except yourself
Innocence gone
Nevermore Naive
An Equal to this Mess
A Friend to the end.

Copyright 2016, Peggy Ann Rowe,Duplication/Modification with permission only.

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