i talk. they ignore.

I FOUND MY MEGAPHONE!

Part I

Me waiting in ER:  The pen was to keep me from biting & chewing the inside of my mouth.

Entry One:  March 29, 2016; 

On Saturday, December 26, 2016, at 7:45 AM, I left my house for work. It was no different than any other time that I’ve left for work. I was bopping to my headphones & ready to pull my full shift, from 8 AM – 4 PM. I clocked on & went straight to work. I don’t remember much of the following three or four days.  For that you would have to ask my daughter, her finance, & a family friend. What I do remember is that I was fine when I got to work and 8:00 AM, and I was still fine at 10:00 AM, when my daughter and I spoke on the phone.

By 10:30 AM, when my daughter came to see me& bring me food stuffs, I had developed a rapid heart beat, an issue with breathing, and was feeling very anxious.

That is about all I can say right now because I need a minute…

Entry Two:  March 30, 2016; 

That’s when my daughter & her fiancé noticed that I was shaking uncontrollably. I couldn’t figure out what was wrong with me as I was starting to panic.

I have social anxiety anyway, so panic attacks are like family to me. They come in hard & fast, make me think I need to fight, flight, or freeze, then slip away & pretend that nothing happened. You know, like family. I have a few other psychological “disorders,” according to therapists’ opinions (mine, too, as I know how to read the DSMs I-V[i]), so before jumping to conclusions. . .

My mind started racing, & I started believing that I felt like I had just snorted or “parachuted” (swallowed a substance -- usually a narcotic -- wrapped in something else, like tissue or a gel-cap) a $5 bump (line of narcotics). I didn’t want to think that way, but what else could I think? I had NOT, knowingly, or willingly ingested anything weird or remotely related to street drugs in over a decade.

Symptom:  Pupil Dilation & Petechiae Hemorrhaging[ii]

. . .  I tried assessing my symptoms, but my mind was racing. I couldn’t get my thoughts together. I kept trying to get my muscles to behave. You see. . .

. . . in October of 2003, I was diagnosed with Polymyalgia-Rheumatica[iii] (no relation to Fibromyalgia[iv], which I was diagnosed with last year – 2015). I also was told by doctors that I had hypothyroidism[v] many, many years ago. . .

. . .  I kept trying to control my muscles & assess whether or not I could, or even should, stay at work. I guess I thought I needed to stay. All I know is that I usually completed all my tasks on time, or shortly thereafter, but that day I was nearly 2 hours late clocking off. Like I stated earlier, my memory of the events of the day are sporadic, at best. No matter how hard I tried to deny it, the only obvious answer was that I was exposed to something toxic while on shift. That would mean I either came into physical contact with a substance by happenstance or I was drugged.

Just the thought frightened me. So, I then had all these thoughts, assessments, & now conspiracy theories going round in my head. All I could think was that I needed to get to the hospital. It was all I could do to sit still, so that wasn’t an option. I couldn’t eat. I even had to force myself to simply swallow water that was already in my mouth without gagging & choking on it. I couldn’t relax. None of my skills for relaxation were working, & my symptoms keep intensifying.

Around 9 PM, my symptoms were so great they were interfering with my breathing. I had my daughter’s fiancé take me to the ER at PeaceHealth Southwest Medical Center. I asked the ladies at the front desk if I could have a blood panel performed because I was certain I was poisoned, or something. While waiting, I asked if I could have a Crime Victims Form, & reception told me that they are not the police, so they are under no obligation to report a crime. They said that was up to me. Later, I asked the triage nurse & was told the same line.

I know I kept repeating that “all I do is smoke weed, & I don’t do drugs.” I know they heard my words, but no one was listening. I repetitively said, “I love food & sleep too much to do this to myself.” “I smoke weed. That’s all.” When the blood work came back, the doctor smirked, & said, “You definitely smoke weed. That is very apparent. You also have enough methamphetamine in your system to down a horse, in my opinion.” I started sobbing that “I don’t do drugs,” Someone had to do this to me,” I wouldn’t do it to myself!” “I just started a job that I love,” “Why would I ruin it?,” & “I am finally happy where I am at, so why would I do this to myself?”

Later still, at my release, I asked the doctor, Joshua J. Hurwitz, MD. , that treated me the same question about Crime Victims, & like a good robot, he regurgitated the same response, “We are not the police. We are under no obligation to report a crime. That is up to you.” I was in no condition to speak to anyone, & at the time the phone was frightening me for no logical reason, mind you. I couldn’t understand why no one was taking me seriously. I still don’t.

Me in ER:  I took A LOT of pictures (that was all I could focus on – called “tweaking” or “spinning”)

*AS ALWAYS:  Let Peace, Love, & Joy be yours. Blessed Be!

*Entry Three:  Coming relatively soon. This is a challenge.

---

[i] http://dsm.psychiatryonline.org/

[ii] http://www.mayoclinic.org/

[iii] http://www.mayoclinic.org/

[iv] http://www.mayoclinic.org/

[v] http://www.endocrineweb.com/

Ode To Maya Angelou

My soul dwells in a vessel
That traps it without a care.
Imprisonment is a choice.

My soul is a hummingbird,
Flitting about here & there.
Freedom is a choice.

My soul sings with purpose,
Sharing love everywhere
Enlightenment has a voice.

Many Minds, Many Colors, One Heart, One Love

In the chaos of this endless vision

I am ever present; diligent.

I am peace as the glass-like top of a lake.

I am love like that of the turbulent ocean.

I am joy like that of a spring fountain;

Excited, sparkling, & bubbling over.

I connect with you & you with me.

We radiate from inclusion

*just feelin' a bit sappy this morning

Compromise? I Think Not!

Bill Hicks once said (maybe a few times) that “when two or more people agree on an issue I form a line on the other side.” He also said, “I get a kick out of being the outsider constantly; it allows me to be creative.”

If I am to be free, I must stand up for what’s right no matter the cost. However, when I do the right thing, my life tends to get worse or I become more & more separated from people. Isolation is a scary place sometimes, but it’s a necessary emptiness to avoid having to do the right thing all the time. The struggle is, for me, very real. I wear headphones when I go to public places most of the time because I cannot listen to people being mean. When I see or hear injustices, great or small, I have this compulsion to speak up & take action. I am afraid that my actions of integrity will have terrible consequences for me, of course, but also for those involved. An atom bomb is useful for destroying its target, but the fallout is enormous. Since I cannot stand idly by, I isolate.

I have become very comfortable living alone, but that was forced on me as a child & again with an empty nest. One of the families that I lived with while growing up would ground me to my room, sometimes for a month at a time. A few of the other families that I lived with would leave for long periods of time, again, leaving me to fend for myself. Even my natural mother, who loved me the only way she knew how, left me with strangers. I pushed my children out of the nest with my ideologies, but some of that was their own quest for independence. So, living alone is familiar (I find it intriguing that the root word is family); it’s like an old friend. Although I can have a complete thought, use the phone, watch the tellie, & come & go as I please without interference from outside influences, I still miss people.

Therein lays the conundrum. If I believe Paul’s warning in his letter to the Romans, then I am not to conform to this worldly realm, but “. . . be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what is that good, & acceptable, & perfect, will of God” (Romans 12:2 KJV). Even though I have a strong desire to attach myself to other humans, my soul has always screamed louder. I’ve always known that I don’t fit in or belong anywhere, & I am discovering that my mind has only recently become my own. It wasn’t the renewing of my mind that needed to happen for me. It was/is a shedding of societal, religious, & cultural dogma. Mayhaps it’s a rose by another name?

I want to be connected, but every time I become part of a group, organization, church, & yes, even families, I feel like I am letting them chip away at my soul. In order to be accepted with any human cluster I must comply with their rules or unspoken expectations. It’s the “sit down & shut up,” or the “just smile & look pretty” mentality, & “I would rather die on my feet than live on my knees” (Euripides).  Conformity is not an option for me. When I tell people that I cannot kowtow, most respond with, “you can’t, or you won’t?” & “it’s a give & take, a compromise.” While the Oxford Dictionary defines “compromise” as “an agreement [sic] of a dispute that is reached by each side making concessions,” it also describes it as weakening or harming “by accepting standards that are lower than [sic] desired.” I simply cannot compromise my spirit.

“Never, never be afraid to do what is right, especially if the well-being of a person or animal is at stake. Society’s punishments are small compared to the wounds we inflict on our soul when we look the other way.” Martin Luther King, Jr.

Bein' Green

Creating More Jesuses: Literally & Symbolically

in my opinion of the following sacred text passage, i think it stands to reason that "god" was conformed into the likeness of man (both literally & symbolically) to create more of himself (both literally & symbolically). it is my educated guess that there is a bloodline from christ & also the chosen "enlightened" ones. i'll park the text of which i speak below & let the reader cipher for him/herself:

"And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose. For whom He foreknew, He also predestined to be conformed to the image of His Son, that HE MIGHT BE THE FIRSTBORN AMONG MANY BRETHREN. MOREOVER WHO HE PREDESTINED, THESE HE ALSO CALLED; whom He called, these He also justified; and whom He justified, these He also glorified." ~Romans 8:28-30

do you see it? he will be the firstborn of his bloodline? then he will call the rest. . . ? to me, this means both DNA related AND those of us that have "simply" been "called," will be even MORE important? if not, it's okay. that's why "christians" say it's the "living" word, right? because it's meaning is in the heart of the reader? personally, i think both logically & with imaginations, so. . . . it stands to reason that he would spread his seed with his love, mary m. well i've "preached" enough, & i don't even proclaim to be a "christian" (he didn't say to worship him, only to follow his example--why would i, therefore name my club after him? isn't that the ULTIMATE form of worship?)! *gets off soapbox

Puddy's Waitin On A Friend

Neck Rubs & Whistles

Get Outta My Head Delta!

So UR Rastafarian, R U?

when self-proclaimed Rastafarians simply think the religion is about smoking weed & are accepting food stamps & welfare & school loans & anything from oppressive gov'ts., i wanna shake them & shoot them. having to educate others regarding their religions (of which i am not), is both exhausting & exhilarating (but mostly, i like rubbing their noses in their own shit!).

rastas do NOT believe in receiving any handouts from any gov't. they refuse to be slaves, which is what happens when you receive social services. they may have many women (queens) in their lifetimes, but they are loyal to the one they are with. they always support their children (no matter how many seeds they spread about--if you use your dick you'd better man up, dude).the weed smoking was the first step in the rasta anarchy; they refused the ban on weed as it's part of their religion & the ancient african medicines.

these men, like the native american warriors will fight & die for these causes (like not using nuclear power). where is the self-proclaimed rastas loyalties? will he lay down his life for his brothers, sisters, children? then, not a rasta, dude!

i agree with most of their philosophy, but it's not my religion. if you're gonna claim it, i think you should understand the magnitude

In Defense of My Black Jesus

in a recent FB post, someone recently opposed the lyrics in bob marley’s song “three little birds.”

he literally wrote:

I love Bob Marley's music, I love his passion, I love his zest for life, I love his positive attitude, and I love a whole host of other great qualities the man possessed.
But with one of his most famous lyrics of all time, I must take issue.
While no doubt well-meaning - telling people:
"Don't worry about a thing;
Every little thing is gonna be all right"
is practically begging people, many of whom are already in a bad emotional place - to delude themselves into thinking that at some point in the future, everything will be perfect - that all of life's problems - ALL OF THEM - will melt away, and that life will no longer be real life - it will be a picture-perfect everlasting paradise. . . ”

. . .  & this is my response to his rant:

marley meant in order for good things to happen to you, you must not walk in fear. he was rastafarian, which includes a firm belief in christ, & those 3 birds were his spiritual confirmation that his activism was his path. he was a rebel, banned from his own country, shot at least twice that i can remember, & died from a cancer that started in his toe. he was a martyr for the cause. that said, i understand your point, but i think it's misdirected.

personally, i take issue with bobby mcfarin's "don't worry, be happy." he blatantly tells the audience it doesn't matter if the landlord is going to kick you out: "The landlord say your rent is late, he may have to litigate. . .Don't worry, (ha-ha ha-ha ha-ha) be happy (look at me, I'm happy" he also states that we are not to show feelings to others because they are uncomfortable with their own feelings, "'Cause when you're worried, your face will frown, and that will bring everybody down. . . So don't worry, be happy Don't worry, be happy now."

again, i see the truth you're spitting, but i offer you a new perspective as i've actually heard marley preach when i was 8, & i remember him explaining the 3 little birds song, which was released the year before (1977). he is, quite literally, one of my superheroes, a fellow activist, & lover of weed, fighter for equality, rabble-rouser, & smoker of the magickal herb.

that said i leave you with lyrics that i love, in the words of "the toyes:" "SMOKE TWO JOINTS IN TIME OF PEACE, & TWO IN TIMES OF WAR. I SMOKE TWO JOINTS BEFORE I SMOKE TWO JOINTS, & THEN I SMOKE TWO MORE!"

God's Work? Bah-ha-ha!

A friend posts a joke on FB that no one really owns as it's rather a common phrase in American culture, & there are enough memes out there to prove this point. He posts:  "Love Mondays....said no one ever. . .,"

to which I promptly reply, "LIES!!!!! i belong to an organization that is all about loving Mondays. i facilitate a group on Monday afternoons to making the world a better place by taking baby steps to change the world. http://everymondaymatters.org/"

He then responds with, "God bless you! You're doing Gods work! :)"

Me: "bah-ha-ha! nope, i'm doing what i was called to do. . . i follow my heart & my mind. i hold no political ties, & i am of no religion (i am a minister of the same church as conan, but they honor all religions, including atheism & science). i do not look outwardly for some mythical being or human being (although, applause & laughter are very euphoric) to tell me what i was born with. god's work? no. i am doing what humanoids should do for themselves & others. i am an anarchist, a hacktivist, & i am a instigator of breaking laws to change them. *gets off soapbox"

My Perfect Life Partner & Journey Co-Creator

Inspired By:  ‘Girlfriend Wanted’ by Matthew Gray Gubler

must love celebrating the seasons
impish
snuggling on a park bench
“and wind chimes”

prefer tall, but no matter
size
shape
length of hair, although. . . 
longer hair is fun

rapscallions
trolls
“Negative Nellies”
bigots
and ne’er-do-wells can lick toe jam

storytellers, musicians,
jesters, muses,
wishers, spell-casters,
daydreamers, star-gazers,
and the like

anyone with a psyche paralleling that of
bill hicks
bob marley
mia angelo
or mortician addams
please sit and chat a spell

trust no lawyer, judge, or copper;
won’t pass judgments until I see fruit.

must enjoy whistling
(the cockatiel insists)
food in bed
1980s rap and eminem

i sleep with 5 or six pillows
can’t sleep with the lights from electronics
staring and especially blinking
at me; it’s unsettling
all I want is
someone to hold me when I’m afraid
a bountiful harvest
and to make you laugh till you gain a six-pack

*****AUTHOR'S NOTE*****

i have only recently been introduced to Mr. Gubler's art & his writings.

see more of his works here:  https://gublernation.wordpress.com/

and here:  http://www.matthewgraygubler.com/

WRITERS' BLOCK

I really don’t know what I’m going to write about today, but I feel the need to express myself.

okay, this really sucks. I have been wandering throughout my apartment today. I might as well call it pacing as it’s only a 2-bedroom flat. As I’ve been pacing through,my place today I’ve been talking out loud & making all kinds of sense, like I do when no one’s listening. I told myself that I should be recording this or writing it, like I always do. This time, however, I listened. 

My arms & shoulders get far too sore for a lot of writing anymore, so I stick with switching off typing a bit at a time. I also have voice recognition software that I like to use when my muscles decide to scream. I have Polymyalgia Rheumatica AND Fibromyalgia, so there are a lot of things that take a great deal of energy. SQUIRREL! I got my laptop out & was ready to record some awesome things from me brain. 

nothing. Not a damn thing.

Blinky cursor on the laptop screen. Blinky, red light on the camera. Steady green light on the audio recording device.

Nothing. Not a damn thing.

WTF? I am a decent writer, story teller, & poet; where does it go when I deliberately want to say some words of wisdom?

I wish I were brave.

I wish I was able to leave my flat without fear (I have what I hope will be a temporary bout with agoraphobia—that’s another story for another time & place). I’m not so much afraid of people or even being hurt by people (I’ve been through so much that I can’t much care about that part of my anxiety), as I am about my reactions to people being stupid &/or mean. I know what I am capable of, out of love, lust, & hate. For some innate reason I cannot keep shit to myself when I see mistreatment of animals, children, vulnerable adults, & the list goes on for freaking ever!!! I also cannot bite my tongue (why should I harm my tongue for your sake anyway?) when I see, hear, or experience racism, even though on many levels I am just as guilty as the next person. . .  hypocrite? Yes. but aren’t we all to some extend. The behaviors that bother us in others are usually the ones we refuse to see in ourselves. I see mine, & I can accept it. Sometimes it takes a minute, but I claim ownership for my shit. Whether I want acknowledgement of my good or I must make right an evil, I will eventually own it all.

Well, hell. That’s not even close to the “Tracey Gs Soapbox Schooling.” That’s more like "Moitle’s Melee Madness."

Christ! I’ll bet if I walk away a thought bubble will appear.

Times like this I wish I had a muse.

the privy!

There’s a plan, eh? Every writer & inventor knows that Ralph Waldo Emerson had it right when he sad that the grandest of thoughts tend to only come when one is in the outdoor privy or the indoor water closet (paraphrased from one of his journal entries that I read in my college days).

I may, or I may not be back.

End transmittal.

Boy Gets His "Make a Wish" & Helps Others Get Theirs, Too

While on Facebook yesterday, I saw my friend, Marie Givogue-Harty, post these pictures:  

I made the comment that most of them are real bikes, too (cuz I'm a Harley fan!). Meanwhile, the bikes were headed to an ice cream shop that I am very familiar with, Doc Bernsein's Ice Cream Lab from when I lived in San Luis Obispo County.

Although I am disheartened that the media chose not to talk

about how the boy got to the parlor, I'm so glad that the media

focused on the star of this show, a little boy named Matthew. Here 

is the video that the Make-A-Wish® Tri-Counties posted on 

their YouTube channel yesterday:

It was rather exciting yesterday to check my Facebook every couple of hours just to see this story. I stated that "they need to make sure there's a write up in the paper. bikers have such bad reps w/the media." I'm sorry to say that I have yet to find the group of bikers in any of the news stories, but that's kind of how they do it. They are angels. They take no credit.

Dear Stephen King

i just posted this to Mr. Stephen King's Facebook page:

you wanna know something, mr. king? ima tell you anyway. . .  i appreciate that i am old enough to remember having to write at a typewriter. i also remember having to manually print things on paper with things called pens & pencils (which i still do when i get a block of some kind--nothing "feels" better than expressing the feelings of writing as my heart/head flow down through my arms & out of my fingertips!!!-- it's like a magickal wand).

but, i am more appreciative of the keyboard, the laptop, the smartphone, & any audio device because of the aforementioned. i see young people today just clicking & keyboarding away. ..  publishing things online all by themselves w/o the annoyance & self-hatred rejection letters bring, & i think to myself that no one really has to suffer for the art anymore.

part of me is saddened by this. i can look back over my work & see where i was struggling in my life. i can look at your work & tell when you were happy, sad, angry, or even struggling with your demons (real, imaginary is all relative. . . they're all real in my opinion). will the authors of tomorrow really have to work for it? or will it all be simply regurgitation from the blood, sweat, & tears of authors from the past?

when i get blocked, your book "On Writing" calls to me. i have read it at least 37 times to date. i started ticking it when i bought my first copy. i am now on the 3rd paperback copy. . .  but i've transferred the tick marks. i reference it to others all the time. in short, thank you for being you, being real, being raw, being authentic. . .  you've inspired me like no other author, EVER!

ps:  The Thing of Evil is my fav thing online right now.

I AM Loved, & Love is the Name of my God.

Come sit down beside me
I AM said to myself
And although it didn’t make sense 
I held my own hand
As a small sign of trust
I sat together, with I AM.
Amongst my god, the angels,
The faeries, nymphs, & sprites.
Communin’ with Christ, in me, did I.
Perceivin’ how minuscule I AM in the body
Knowin’ the power of the
White blood cell and antibody.
So, I sat down beside me
And I trusted I AM.

~Tracey G, a.k.a, Moitle {March 20, 2016, Spring Equinox (Ostara)}

Sports Go Sports by Garfunkel and Oates

The Kody Brown Family--Sister Wives

I have always wanted to be part of something bigger than me, but I don’t do people well. That can be taken on several levels. Those that know me well will understand, but for those that don’t, please take it on any level that suits you.

In 2010, I started watching a reality show called Sister Wives & fell so in love with their story. I couldn’t believe that the American people were so prejudice against people wanting to follow what their god had called them to do. All injustice infuriates me, but persecution of human beings really makes me want to become The Incredible Hulk on their asses. To be fair, I am not under the delusion that I fell in love with Kody as a man, nor am I attracted to any of his wives. It’s the journey. I’ve laughed with them, cried with them, cringed with them, & rejoiced & celebrated with them. I pray for them regularly, as God lays them on my heart. I was, & still am, in love with the familial bond.

The Brown Family has caused me to question my own calling. I was raised to believe that white is right, & even as a small child I knew in my very soul that it was wrong (my natural mother was the one that really instilled this in me as she rebelled against her own family’s racists views). I also believed that a marriage was betwixt one man & one woman, once a cheater always a cheater, & homosexuality is an abomination to god (in the old testament, this in fact a truth Leviticus 18:22 KJV, but the new testament doesn’t mention it at all). There are so many restrictions in the Old Testament, but I know I live under Christ. I refuse to be drenched in religious dogma any longer.

Christ didn’t come to earth to change the law but to add to it & fulfill it. Most of the Old Testament laws were created by man. God’s laws are different, if one chooses to believe Paul’s teachings. I believe every single word that came out of Christ’s mouth, whether from the bible or The Gospel of St. Thomas. St. Thomas was Jesus’ scribe, & his gospel contains quotes from Jesus & his interactions with his disciples. It contains the stuff that Constantine & King James didn’t want the people to know—like the true power that resides in every single one of us!

The Brown’s have also caused me to question the LDS & the FLDS. If Joseph Smith was a prophet of god, then how can one sect believe in polygamy & the other not at all? FEAR!

In my opinion, Kody Brown is a prophet of God. He has a firm belief in Christ, & he’s shedding light on that which was forcibly shoved into darkness (which opened the door for evil). Hiding who you are will make you a victim. That’s how many polygamists were/are able to hurt their children & oppress their wives. The truth will set you free (as long as you’re not harming others), & I relish it when the Brown’s express their freedom.

For me, I choose to be single, & it works for me. The Brown’s chose polygamy, & it works for them. There are so many people that claim to be monogamous, but are they? Really? The divorce amongst one partner couples is outrageous, & once divorced & remarried one cannot claim monogamy. Afterall, monogamy means one partner for the rest of your life. Divorce causes instability for the children, so who’s to say that one is wrong? There seems to be a lot of finger-pointing & not enough ownership of one’s own self. It’s so ridiculous.

There was an episode that included a fortune teller, by the name of Mystic Mona, & I honestly think that there were a few errors in her predictions. Maybe because I know that one should cleanse the Tarot cards in between each person that one reads. Albeit her predictions seemed fairly accurate, I think that the people got jumbled. For example, when Mystic Mona said that Meri needed to be watchful because of illness amongst the children, I honestly think that she was reading Christine. Afterall, Truley (Christine’s daughter) almost died from dehydration & acute kidney failure not long after the reading. I do think that Mystic Mona was spot-on accurate when she predicted a fifth wife for Kody. I had felt that premonition when I started watching the show. If he has decided not to take a fifth wife, does that mean that he is closing himself to the possibility? It’d be disheartening if he shut himself off from hearing what God may be trying to say.

I used to also believe that noone could see Christ again until after physical death. Thanks to my youngest daughter, I now believe that Christ will show himself to people during & after a spiritual transformation. Also, as I am not God (only part of the collective body), I cannot judge others’ experience. If the prophets’ testimonies corroborate Christ’s message, then I can only accept them. That is, until I’m led down another path or I uncover a new truth.

The Brown’s have a fairly strict modesty policy regarding clothing, & for them it works. Personally, I could care less about clothing. In fact, the fewer clothes I wear, the happier I am. As a parent, I agree that if we want our children to behave a certain way or dress in a particular fashion then we should set the example. For me, I let my children run around nude until other people started telling them that it was “weird.”

As I am a human being, I have my own unique opinions, just like everyone else. So, here’s my take on the Kody Brown family:

Kody:  Such a handsome fella. He seems to want to show the positive side to living in a plural marriage. I also believe he is a prophet of God. I don’t practice Mormonism, but I can appreciate a prophet of God.

Meri:  A perfectionist. She has a passion for entertaining. She wants to grow as an individual, & I admire her for going back to school.

Janelle:  Her weight loss & personal journey inspires me. She is all about the numbers. Sensible & business-minded. Starting to make her voice heard.

Christine:  The princess. She loves deeply & has a strong calling to stay at home with the children. She has forgiven her mother but holds a grudge over a comment made by a friend of Kody’s. She confuses me. Great at presentations.

Robyn:  Emotional. She feels deeply. Everything about her is “all in” or “all out.” I’m praying that as she finds her niche in the family that she will see that everything changes. She is a peacemaker.

I can relate to all five parents. However, I’ve had personal “experiences” via the show with Kody, Meri, Janelle, Christine. Weight loss, personal & spiritual growth, a miscarriage, & nearly losing a child hit my heart deeply.

I don’t know why I can’t warm up to Robyn, but I know that it’s something in me, not necessarily a fault in her. From what I’ve witnessed, she tries to make peace betwixt Kody and the other wives. It is my personal opinion that she should stay out of Kody’s relationships with his other wives, especially Meri. I think she feels the need to fix everything so that her world won’t be chaotic. Aha! Maybe that’s it! I used to try to fix everything, so that I could be at peace. Maybe I resent that part of me a little. That could be transferring to my thoughts on Robyn. Unlike me, she has an idealistic view on how love & family should work. Her presentation on love & chastity moved me. I don’t have the same ideas about sex, but I identify deeply with her struggles to make her past right. It can make a person feel like a complete failure in the eyes of God & man. I keep trying to like Robyn, & I pray that God will soften me soon as I’m not fond of the feeling I get when I can’t connect. The fact that I only know her from televisions makes it worse.

Some days I want to be the grandmother in a polygamist family, like Annie. Other days, I like my freedom so much that the very thought of being tied down makes me as frightened as a cornered animal.

For me, monogamy is a setup for failure. Polygamy is too much commitment. Although I relish solidarity, it isn’t an option as I need people. Even Jesus had his companions.

I will continue to watch this family grow as long as they’re still on the tellie.

In conclusion, I am in a stasis state. It seems only logical for me to make only the decisions that are in my NOW & near future.

Today, I am a Loser

Frazzled

Restless

Angry

Gnawing

Menagerie

Enraged

Negativity

Tested

Exasperation

Depressed

My thoughts are fragmented. There’s just so much. Too much. It seems my life has always been hampered by others, & I can’t seem to open the lid, release the building combustion, & fly free. In my soul I know that I am at peace, but my negative self-talk & the voices of others keeps shutting the hamper lid & shitting atop it.

My faith in god & Christ in me is rock solid, & that NEVER seems to waiver (as if my soul knows the truth). However, I have no faith in me & most other people.

I’ve been feeling very volatile lately. I want to release the raging bitch that I stifle yet continues to boil. It would feel so good to tell everyone that frustrates me to FUCK OFF!

I’m feeling like a complete loser. I didn’t finish high school. I got my GED (general education diploma), but that doesn’t feel like a milestone. Passing a GED exam for someone with my intelligence is like goodie-two-shoes passing a urinalysis drug screening. I never finished college. I have difficulty obtaining & retaining employment because my quest for justice surpasses my ability to conform & stand idly by.

I am so tired of being poverty-stricken , but am I tired enough to kowtow? I want to make money from home, but most of the offered home business opportunities are scams. I want to move closer to the comedy clubs to surround others like me. I want to perform, but I have such a fear of rejection that I never do it anymore. However, I don’t want to move away from my grandchildren. They are my heart.

There are times (SHH! DON’T TELL ANYONE) that I just want someone to take care of me financially because independence sucks. These times are VERY few & far between, but they do surface occasionally.

As soon as I see a ray of hope, my past rears up. It was diagnosed as PTSD. I am a survivor of physical, psychological, sexual, & ritualistic abuse, but I want to do more than simply survive. I want to live. I don’t know how to do it without compromising who I am, & that leaves me feeling like a loser.

My hope for me is peace, love, & happiness. . .