We All Bleed Red

I will be the first to admit that I am not very politically educated. Which is only a choice of my own and not something that I need to be scolded for. I am however making up for my past by bettering my future. However, I cannot seem to get into a conversation with people whom have the mentality that if France had gotten involved when the US went to war with the Taliban, we wouldn't be here. It's almost victim shaming, and frankly it's embarrassing that anyone would say it.

As a country in 2001 we didn't think Bush was doing the right thing, in hindsight, he did exactly what he should have done to defend this country. As far as France's decision to not get involved, at the time, they thought it was the best decision for them. I do not believe that what happened to them two nights ago, wouldn't have happened if they had come to our defense. It probably would have happened regardless. Although France denounced our decisions to go to war, they hurt with us; they felt our devastation and they mourned with us as we figured out how to overcome. Now we must do the same for them. And if they need us to back them in eradicating the evil, we should be there to do so. Even though we proved we wouldn't stand to be attacked, we are still at risk of it happening again, more often than we'd like to give notice to.

While we now have mutual pain to share with France, we cannot deny them our help when they need it. Doing so isn't how we should respond as humanity hurts. We need to come together and help those that hurt and defend those that are being attacked. Just as at home we have Anti-Bullying going on, the same holds true for this planet; we all have homes and families, and when the chips are stacked, no one wants to feel alone.

I had a conversation with a friend in France tonight and there's even more I didn't know that was going on, however she was grateful for the compassion and support that is being sent their way. We need to continue to do that, and we need to continue to work diligently on protecting and bettering humanity, because that's what this is, an attack on humanity and it cannot be tolerated.

This picture is exactly where we are as a whole, as a planet, and as humanity.

Fixing Tomorrow

In recent events, the internet was swamped with a debate over a cup some corporate company put out. I stayed as far away from that nonsense as possible. The ignorance that was spewing over a cup was intolerable. The simple fact that anyone feels they should get the religious foundation out of something they're just going to discard anyway, is just stupid to put it simply. If you want to hold firm to your beliefs and if you want God to be in your life, only you can put him there. Your heads are so far up your butts, you've lost focus of reality.

And then Paris happened.

I'm starting to feel like terrorists are like spoiled children. If you think about it, they certainly act very much the same. They feel entitled, they act like complete brats who destroy things to get attention, and then that's just what we give them, the attention they want. I'm sure it's also the way we handle them, with such kid gloves. Take no mercy on those who feel that they can walk into anyone's home country and destroy it. Trying to make a statement, trying to install fear into other countries, and trying to get the world to focus on them is pathetic. Absolutely shut down the borders, absolutely storm their country and hunt them down, absolutely execute them on site. I support our military and I know when it come to a head, many men and women will do what they need to to protect the USA and any other country that is being threatened without cause. I can't understand that when the terrorists attack our Presidents puts on kid gloves and has the "let's not point fingers" attitude. Absolutely point fingers, especially when they're standing in front of the world saying it's them, when they tell you who will be their next target. Refuse entrance into our country and go after the wicked in the world, do not coexist with it.

I have friends in Paris and I'll never be more grateful than for them being able to check in safe on Facebook. 

When the US was attacked in 2001, we went on the defense immediately. We went to war, we defended ourselves, and we went after the responsible parties. We didn't stop until we made it clear that we will not be victims and we will not tolerate being bullied in our country. There may have been a lot to disagree with when President G.W. Bush was in office, but there's so much more to disagree with when it comes to Obama. He should have never been allowed to be voted in. The country is warped on the idea of popularity and not on the power of knowledge. I personally don't think anyone should be allowed to run for Presidency who hasn't served in the military. It should be a rule as much as being a citizen, although that prerequisite seems to be fading as well. Obama seems like a nice enough guy, but to be the leader of the free world, he doesn't have what it takes.

Go back to the basics. In God We Trust. Put religion back into focus everywhere, it's where our country started. If you or anyone doesn't like it, the planet is a very big place and I'm sure you could find somewhere to rest your head other than here. Support our military, regardless if you disagree because at the end of the day, they give you the power to do just that and disagree. We could have militants who execute you for having an opinion, that is an option. And damn it! Where is the Pledge of Allegiance?! I understand that as a child and being naive to things was they way it was but we're adults. Get educated, get empowered, and take a stand. Terrorist attacks or shootings in our backyards, enough has got to be enough already!

Wait for it

For years I've cried more than any one human should over the frustrations of my circumstances with Don. I've begged and pleaded with God to intervene. When it kept going, I only asked God to soften Don's heart. When it kept going, I asked God to soften my heart but strengthen my spirit. 

When you're not looking, is when God appears. Something has been slowly developing and while I hadn't said anything and have been trying to navigate it alone, Don caught wind of the situation and for the first time ever, Don and I agree on something and are on the same page with parenting. 

I take it for what it is. I won't expect it to stay but I'm grateful that after 11 years, there is some hope in knowing it is possible. 

Tonight I have tears of relief. It's been 4 days, but you have to start somewhere. 

The Lord my God never fails. 

You be mean, I'll be kind

I think it is great for younger generations to have a zero tolerance policy on bullying, especially since it's gone from mostly happening in the schoolyard to social media, cell phones, and everything in between. I vividly remember being bullied as a kid, while in private school. I also remember my best friend being bullied. It sucked, but holding on to the fact that once I went home, I'd only have to deal with it the next day at school. Kids now, it's almost impossible to escape a bully which leads to intense depression and ultimately, unfortunately, in some cases, kids taking their own lives because they don't know how else to escape it. 

My issue is, what do you do as an adult, when another adult or multiple adults, are bullying you? Who stands up for you? Who makes it stop? In your 30's, suicide can't be the only way out; at least I hope that's not the only resolution. 

Most of you know the gist of my story. No one knows the whole thing, and that's mostly because no one can withstand the length of time it takes to fill in all the details. I hope for my sake, to start a book, even if it's just for myself, on being bullied as an adult. 

I left Delila's father when she was 8 months old. We had Delila together and he had a son whom after being born, we found out was his; he's 10 months older than Delila. Dating, I always knew he was a hot head, however, people change or can change when they have kids. He unfortunately did not. 

 

I grew resentful when Delila was hospitalized for 5 days at 3 months old for continual vomiting which led to her losing weight. I stayed by her side, every minute. I wouldn't even use the bathroom without leaving the door open in her hospital room. Her dad continued to go to work and would come by for a little bit at night then go home. I did address it with him after a couple days and his response was that someone had to work. My heart broke. Some for myself, more for Delila. I couldn't understand not putting your child first when she was so sick with no known cause. 

The night I knew I had to leave was in June of 2005. Something was wrong with the vacuum and he, being a mechanic started to look at it and take it apart. His 18 month old sat next to him, and I stood watching with Delila cradled in my arms. The situation went from zero to sixty very quickly. He couldn't get the hose off the vacuum and it enraged him. He started ripping at the hose and yelling about throwing it in the front yard. I seriously questioned the situation with him because it was ridiculous. In that moment, I knew. I knew that if someone could fly off the handle over a vacuum, my future of living under the same roof as him would be bad for me, but horrible for Delila. So one day he left for work, and I gathered our stuff and left. In that moment of driving away, I sealed my fate, to always, probably for the rest of one of our lives, to be his punching bag, to endure his rage, to listen to his abusive tongue; to be stalked and spied on, and to never -ever- find a way out of it. 

In the years to follow, I did my best to protect myself because I lived in fear. On a daily basis I didn't know what would happen. I lived by and made sure those closest to me knew, that if something every happened to me, even by "accident" that he was absolutely behind it. I had him arrested, several times. Harassing phone calls, standing outside my house, looking in my windows, following me; I even had to get a restraining order on him because he threatened my life and those around me. I had hard, physical proof, always, and so this went on for years. 

The restraining order was good, but once it was lifted, he figured out how to harass me, just never to the point where it was enough to get in serious trouble. Now the cops, judges, or attorneys just give him a slap on the hand. Which does absolutely nothing, of course, nothing really did much. He had even violated the restraining order when it was in place. 

So here we are. 10 years later, I'm 32 - he's 36, and everything you just read above about his behavior is still going on. Except now. No one hears my frustrations, no one sees my tears, it's all old news and exhausting for the outside world. For me, for Delila, we live with it. Every day. He has people spy on my social media. He knows when I mow the lawn or who mows it for me. He pumps lies into Delila's head about me, that I'll kidnap her, that I use pipes and needles, that I break her bones when she gets hurt, that I want her to fail, that I don't love her; his hatred is endless. 

The only thing worse than him, is someone else, much like him on his side to back him and to come at me at times he isn't. His mother. 

One would think that after a 1.5 year court battle, to which he finally got 50/50 custody instead of me having sole, things would be better. Things only feel like they're getting worse. And still, it's only me. Only me to process the pain and frustrations, only me to stay strong, only me to hope, pray, and guide my daughter to know that people aren't this way, that men shouldn't treat women like this, and that it's so incredibly important to be kind to people in life. Even if they're mean to you. 

Below is an email I put together to the GAL from our recent court case. I'm sure he'll never read it, and I'm even more sure that nothing will be done about it, but I needed it documented somehow. I needed someone to know that I'm not okay living like this and neither is Delila. 

Mr. Blake,

 

I want you to be aware of some situations that have been going on. Only because it’s in my best interest to somehow have them documented.

 

On 10/20/2015 I picked up Delila, after work at Debbie Baker’s house. I had called Delila to tell her that I was on my way and would be there shortly. When I arrived, Don was there so I stayed in my vehicle and honked for Delila. Don then told Delila that if I came there again and honked he would punch me in the face.

 

Yesterday, on 10/28/2015, I picked up Delila from Debbie Baker’s house after work. Both Don and Debbie are harassing me with texts, phone calls, voicemails, and emails regarding paying her $10 per day to pick up Delila on my days. I used the Wizard to tell Don that I would pay his mom $10 a week since I know personally when I drive 45 minutes to and from her school, it doesn’t take $10 per day and Debbie Baker lives closer to the school then I do.

 

Yesterday before I picked up Delila, I stopped and got Debbie a $25 gas card. When I got there, Debbie followed Delila out to the vehicle; Delila handed her the envelope with the gas card in it and got in the car and shut the door. Debbie opened the envelope, then proceeded to open my car door and yell at me about how she wants $40 and I only gave her $25. I repeatedly asked her to close my car door as I had somewhere to be. She refused and continued to yell at me and demanding more money. I kept asking her to close the door, and because Delila sat in the car and Debbie was yelling at me with Delila between us, Delila was trying to push her away and was also asking her to go away and close the door. I pumped the brake so the car moved slightly but not from position, which further angered Debbie. She then leaned into my car, pointing her finger at me, leaning over Delila, and continued to yell at me. Both Delila and I continued to ask her to close the door. After 15 minutes, I was finally able to leave.

 

Debbie has also been contacting my extended family via Facebook trying to involve them and requesting that they tell me what and when to pay her.

 

Don then text me last night and told me his mom would no longer pick Delila up from school on the days I work and can’t pick up from school. Then he text Delila to tell her that Debbie would pick her up if she needed; causing unnecessary confusion. Don, Debbie, and Don’s girlfriend Liz (who recently moved out again and left him but again moved back in), proceeded to call and text Delila all night but she didn’t want to speak to any of them and as of this morning expresses that she doesn’t want to go over there. Which is okay until his visitation starts tomorrow and then she will go. Last night I did use the Wizard and let Don know that Delila did have her phone and was okay but didn’t want to speak. 

 

I feel like when I talk about it, I become a victim to people and that they pity me. I don't like that. I also feel quite weak and whiny for talking about it. A common phrase from others is, "I don't know how you do it", my response is always, "What other choice do I have?" Life can be challenging, but when people are continually standing behind you, telling you or your child how worthless you are and making up complete lies about you, you begin to wonder what's the best way out of the situation.

 

Framing Our Pain

Getting a handle on grief is like trying to hold on to a stick of butter on a hot summer day. Try as you might, you'll never be able to figure out how to keep it from getting all over the place and making a mess of anything around you. Go ahead, wash your hands. It feels like an endless task that only when you think you're good, you go to grab something that slips from your hand and you realize the residue is still there. That's what happens when you're grieving and you're good, move forward, and drop the grip of goodness because grief's ugly face is still staring right back at you.

Grieving is not a new and developing emotion. We'll probably never know where or when it first happened. Or maybe we do, my Bible scholars. (much love) Everyone, every single person hasn't had a grieving experience just once but probably handfuls of times over and over. What's different is that not only is each grief different because of the connection to the persons we lose or the situation surrounding the death, but grief likes to compound itself. Piling one event on top of the other, death after death, weighing on us while we're still trying to deal with the first one from the age of 8, we're all the sudden finding ourselves dealing with the one from when we were 30 and every single one in between.

That's just one person, one life, and one story. Then you bring in the rest, the news and the grotesque world that we live in. Children playing in their yards, students going to the movies, teachers trying to teach a new generation, and people just doing their jobs trying to protect people who think they have all the solutions; dying. Dying every single day, to no fault of their own, other than that they were just there. We have our stories, our individual lives we're trying to cope with, and then for the empathetic ones, we feel the pain and the grief for those that have to lose, and lose on a highly publicized level.

How is it that grief can take its long and unforgiving fingers and wrap it around our lives without ever letting go. To rebuild your soul, to learn to feel and love again, to trust that life won't end before you fully get to engulf it with your love is laborious, to say the least.

There are apparently five stages to grief; denial and isolation, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. What no one ever tells you, whether it's your first loss or your most significant loss, is that sometimes, if not all the time, those five stages can occur all at the same time. The same time, and for as long as they please. Even if you let them go, put them down, move on; it's not at all your choice because it's grief's choice as to when it will let you go and when it will let you move on.

It's a vortex of five stages that I champion those who quickly find the life raft out of it. For those that are haunted by it, and thrown around in it every single day, you're not alone. It's just people don't want to stand there and say they're stuck somewhere in between either one, several, or all five stages in a stare down with their grieving process and it's a shell that encompasses them.

The 'C' word

I laugh at most vulgar words, it's kind of just a twisted sense of humor I have. I think that if you take the power away from any inappropriate word, it no longer has the same effect nor meaning. Moist, I don't understand the big deal about this word. Are you that filthy of a human being that you can't just use the word without feeling dirty from it? Panties, I've heard this one pop up as bothersome too for people, I just don't know why. That is what women wear after all, or don't, to each their own. Let's also not forget the vast list of derogatory names that are thrown around that should make us all cringe if we are even the least bit of a decent human being. The 'F' word for the homosexual community makes me physically sick when I hear it; whether meant to be mean or used out of ignorance, I hate it. Don't use it, educate yourself with a better vocabulary.

So then there's my dreaded 'C' word that I can't stand. I say "my" because lately it's been used towards me more than once so now I have to address it. It throws me against a wall and frustrates me beyond words. Most the time, I can't even compose myself enough to even give back an appropriate response which isn't like me.  I know I can't be the only one I know that has had people use it in such a sharp tongued manner, I guess I'm still trying to figure out how to not be offended by it, how to take the power out of it, and ultimately how to respond to it. Alright, hold tight because we're diving right in.

If you know me, know anything about me or have been paying the least bit attention, you know I'm not talking about the word 'c*nt' - see, I can be nice for those of you that can't stand that 'C' word. That 'C' word makes me laugh, it's that twisted sense of humor. I laugh because people, men especially, will jump to that word so quick because they want to cut through you like a knife. If you respond with, "Yes! I love that word!", there goes the power, it shuts down men (and women) because there's not usually anything deeper than that word.

My 'C' word is convert. When I ask people to come to church, when I talk about the goodness Christianity could bring to a friend's soul, when I talk about sharing God with family, they always come back with that stupid word of convert.

"I'm not going to convert or anything." - "What if you try to convert them or us?" - "Are you asking me to convert?"

Ladies and Gentlemen, I am very clear on the definition of the word convert, however when you say it, it's like you're saying it with such disgust; like I just asked you to lick a cow on a 90 degree day.

For me, being a Christian is a choice I make, a choice that puts my restless and weary soul at rest, a choice that helps me carry on with days that I know I am a sinner and feel less than worthy, a choice that makes me feel safe, gives me confidence to make smarter decisions, a choice that ultimately makes me happy, and a choice that helps me forgive myself for the wicked past that I try to leave behind. I do not like it when you make me feel wrong for being a Christ follower, for sharing the Word of God, or for believing that there is one true God who is very clearly written throughout the Bible and not throughout bylaws of organized religions. If you attend a church that does not accept someone into their faith without rules, regulations, and bylaws, how do you not see that as being an issue? The church I attend may be a 40 minute drive for me, but I'm home when I'm there, and I know that when I bring someone with me, they're welcomed with open arms and wouldn't be shut out.

My mission isn't to convert anyone, my mission is simply to be able to enjoy my desire to talk about God, to worship God, and to share God. And recently my heart was broken when I was made to feel like I was wrong for believing in the one God who created us all. If while I am sharing my love and joy for the Lord, you find your way there too, my heart will beat ten fold for you. Recently my faith and religion was publicly shamed and brought me to tears, but I'll never forget one very defining moment in my life. My dad, who never really attended church with us, who I have always prayed for, who I never knew where he really stood in his heart with God reminded me while I stood there trying to suppress tears, there is only one God.

Watch me whip .... this party into shape

After Delila's 10th birthday party, I told her we probably weren't doing them anymore because I usually always exceed any budget I set for myself, no matter how much I try to tell myself I'm not going to. I can't help it, I'm a party planning extraordinaire and my ideas flow endlessly. Every year is a theme, and every thing surrounds the theme, from outfits, to food, decorations, gifts, down to the card and wrapping paper I use; and the budget is enough to be considered stupid, and the cake, the cake is the show piece. It's kind of gross how excited I get when someone lets me pick out a cake design.

Prior years, I would start planning for the next year's birthday the days following what birthday had just passed. But I hadn't done that for this upcoming birthday. I didn't want to do a party, I had hoped I could replace a single life moment with several more memorable ones. I've done some fantastic things for her in the last year, two of which was a week road trip out east along side a last minute, over spent, concert she was just "dying" to go to, signed poster and all. She's went to her first Blackhawks game and I drove her to Milwaukee for an Ariana Grande concert she wanted to see. Moments. Moments I hope she loves as much as I have.

So where are we?

We are two weeks away from another birthday, another year behind us (thank goodness because it's had a lot of lows for us), but more importantly heading into another year together ahead of us. And she wants a party. I have learned as she's gotten older to down scale the guest list, which helps, plus as she gets older, now that she's a tween, there's less for the family to do and more for her to do with her friends. All the fault to my own, since I haven't been planning for the last year, I'm putting together a party in less than two weeks time. Fear not, because if you remember from above, I'm a party planning extraordinaire.

I'm not giving out details as to what is going on for it yet, although I will say that this year is slightly less about the party and more about the gifts; that's where I'm putting my heart into this year. I just hope that as my daughter ventures deeper and deeper into the dark side of tween-age and teenage years, she holds tight to the times Mom made her smile vs the times Mom took away her cell phone. I have endured hell for her, I would move mountains for her, and I know she's in a spot in life right now where I'm not a shining star for her, but nothing and no one, can ever take away the love, admiration, and devotion I have for her. She is my one, my only, my absolute beginning and end.