tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17521349820769738082024-03-19T15:18:58.261-05:00Little Girl FoundAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17724667929738092990noreply@blogger.comBlogger91125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1752134982076973808.post-37909040219956254822016-01-03T18:37:00.006-06:002016-01-03T18:37:57.899-06:00I Have Moved!<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>Head on over to <a href="http://littlegirlfound.com/">LittleGirlFound.com</a> and visit my new home! </b></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyl0dlrL5a8NiS0FSAKL0T392xh5Fmd2ueWCNMiSC5NCn1Vk99r5eogccvZoofSt6_iDTsXaL7zcm4MgWrlQt_uLa8U-oGvZg7MtRJupLR4n9bKd8I5-X5uzaYsGJG6qsOx4EKSZTvvGY/s1600/Moving-from-Blogger-to-WordPress.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyl0dlrL5a8NiS0FSAKL0T392xh5Fmd2ueWCNMiSC5NCn1Vk99r5eogccvZoofSt6_iDTsXaL7zcm4MgWrlQt_uLa8U-oGvZg7MtRJupLR4n9bKd8I5-X5uzaYsGJG6qsOx4EKSZTvvGY/s400/Moving-from-Blogger-to-WordPress.png" /></a></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17724667929738092990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1752134982076973808.post-24607627404052788402015-11-06T21:31:00.000-06:002015-11-06T21:31:23.180-06:00Consider the Source.....<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">
<i><b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">There is
no greater blessing than a family hand that lifts you from a fall; but there is
no lower curse than a family hand that strikes you when you're down. -- Wes Fessler</span></b></i></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It's
taken almost a year but the other shoe finally dropped. Around this time last
year, I discovered my sister had posted a lot of horrible things about me on
her blog. That didn't surprise me. What did, however, was the fact that she had
mentioned that I had been talking crap about her to my brother and his wife - a
statement I knew was a complete lie. I fumed about it for awhile, going back
and forth between wondering if my sister was saying this because she expected
me to read her blog and believe her lie so it would destroy the last remaining
relationship I had in my family….OR… had my brother and his wife really been
lying to her about what I was saying?</span></span></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Truth be
told, both had a ninety-nine percent probability of being true. I decided to
confront my brother. His reaction was complete anger and he wanted to know
where I heard that from because he was going to "get to the bottom of
these lies" since he was so sick and tired of his family being attacked.
Hmmmm….Ok. So I pointed him in the direction of our sister's blog. Once he
found out it was coming from her, he told me, "Seriously? Consider the
source. Come on. It's Jill." They both swore up and down they had said
nothing bad and they had tried and tried with both Jill and our other brother,
Tom, to get them to talk things out with me and fix the family. </span></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I
believed them - at first. But then I began going over and over things in my
head. Since I had removed Jill from my life, I had talked to John and his wife
a total of four or five times - in over a year. I remembered these
conversations mostly because whenever they came around I felt guarded. My
senses were alert like my body knew what my mind didn't want to acknowledge. It
felt as though they were digging for dirt because each and every time they came
over, they would bring up Jill and be negative. Then they'd bring up Tom and be
negative. Then they'd bring up Tom's wife and complain about her. I didn't
engage in this bashing and would try to change the subject. I continued to tell
them that I was trusting God with these relationships and He knew when the time
would be right. I wasn't worried about it. </span></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It was
during one of these visits, my grandson's first birthday party, that they
brought up Tom and his wife again. It felt like when I wouldn't take the bait,
they would spill more crap. They had me in tears believing that I had lost my
brother for good and that his wife was alienating him from his family. </span></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I
starting trying to piece things together- their stories changed a lot; facts
changed; details they had been quick to spill during one visit would be
suddenly 'forgotten' and couldn't be recalled. I like to watch people's faces
and how they talk with their words and bodies. When you're a child of sexual
abuse, you become keenly perspective on levels a normal child doesn't have to
think about. You're always on high alert - you can smell a change in the air,
unconsciously catch the twitch in the abuser's cheek before he grabs you….you
notice things. I noticed quite a bit with my brother and his wife. </span></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So fast
forward to this past spring. My brother, Tom, and I began hashing things out
and getting reacquainted. It was during one of our talks that the first shoe
dropped. I'm not going to share any details of our talks because Tom is the
only family member I have that I know I can always trust. We can be real with
each other and that's what I crave most is real, honest relationships. He did
let me know that John had repeatedly told them that my daughter and I were
continually badmouthing them. I remember my mouth falling open and I was
speechless. He had told me and my daughter the same thing about them. All lies.
</span></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Again,
I've been stewing about this for a few months now. I was going to confront him
but kept putting it off. A few days ago, I get a text from him giving me his
new phone number and he asks if my phone is broke because I haven't been
responding to his calls. I went on to tell him that I was mad at him because of
what I'd found out. </span></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Gisha; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBoIE7WqB1HzdCEFqz36KvsaTOh0id8k17SDBvGx0yhyphenhyphenzjMH_3b8Tf9onVtLJWRqWgyMFD4aulNdLRNemSpTHDHAMAdQP4gDIFuS97UqcxrxwV8lJiKEylej0zlWPAyW01cLaLrQ0Qk9Y/s1600/wp_ss_20151104_0003+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBoIE7WqB1HzdCEFqz36KvsaTOh0id8k17SDBvGx0yhyphenhyphenzjMH_3b8Tf9onVtLJWRqWgyMFD4aulNdLRNemSpTHDHAMAdQP4gDIFuS97UqcxrxwV8lJiKEylej0zlWPAyW01cLaLrQ0Qk9Y/s320/wp_ss_20151104_0003+%25282%2529.jpg" width="193" /></a></div>
<div style="margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpOfXnfvbLOu10viBx91RKYWPgKNaOPDulZrQK-37MPu02NY_wyCMcePojMquaW-BcUCStPLqc2uCoCygaqpZKB4IAobFVMBKXa1ru7mBVBv43Z9Q_TvuykcvQZ_Lgx4GyBGe-RqZ-eB0/s1600/wp_ss_20151104_0004+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpOfXnfvbLOu10viBx91RKYWPgKNaOPDulZrQK-37MPu02NY_wyCMcePojMquaW-BcUCStPLqc2uCoCygaqpZKB4IAobFVMBKXa1ru7mBVBv43Z9Q_TvuykcvQZ_Lgx4GyBGe-RqZ-eB0/s320/wp_ss_20151104_0004+%25282%2529.jpg" width="222" /></a></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
Hold on....THIS is how you get your family back together? By lying?</div>
<div style="margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiddcUm3spweYYHrC38FywK1o8Ti8ZyEWs1GrnMiULXqMB7cHuwFlIbd4bRxp5ZSBNs9zWX6D6-Jowrpt5k3WqD1q262oQ7RrDOowD6RBLTtRpoViQNSEosVT4lTcrSbkUCuipN9J62M8U/s1600/wp_ss_20151104_0005+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiddcUm3spweYYHrC38FywK1o8Ti8ZyEWs1GrnMiULXqMB7cHuwFlIbd4bRxp5ZSBNs9zWX6D6-Jowrpt5k3WqD1q262oQ7RrDOowD6RBLTtRpoViQNSEosVT4lTcrSbkUCuipN9J62M8U/s320/wp_ss_20151104_0005+%25282%2529.jpg" width="222" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Notice I gave him an opportunity to fix things here by suggesting we get together and talk about it with Tom. If Tom was lying it would have been the perfect opportunity to call him out on it. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Or, if John had really wanted to get his family back, be honorable and do the right thing.....this would be the time to sit down and talk about it. </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNB2ANGXzAO9a0mQpJ6Kh1K5BiVjd-S3CrUlgSVvhZz3caA2VEt_NTYU4HrCwam6TV9kxeaWqVmgB9WFM87KYhCbhHX1j3CArbDQZqGY5qvADHxzWrDWLlh-BL3cdPqlTV7I1YiRPuoeo/s1600/wp_ss_20151104_0006+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNB2ANGXzAO9a0mQpJ6Kh1K5BiVjd-S3CrUlgSVvhZz3caA2VEt_NTYU4HrCwam6TV9kxeaWqVmgB9WFM87KYhCbhHX1j3CArbDQZqGY5qvADHxzWrDWLlh-BL3cdPqlTV7I1YiRPuoeo/s320/wp_ss_20151104_0006+%25282%2529.jpg" width="205" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Ahhhh....here again. " I don't remember anything that has been said." This is a classic line with these two when they can't keep all of their lies straight. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Now suddenly he's OK with us fighting? Just a second ago didn't you say.....something else? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Oh, yes. You're the only one in the world who has to face life on a daily basis. You're also the only one with problems. </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPXkntkA0Sje9INIMmrlJw8k87dvjDmyoMl5yJQwMd3bhZE2XXlc5D1jfRy7R44ivm9_SR4G_D70tnZqQJeNIRh4HZdscYohzcVroJWfdVttz32Z7mDk9o5t_3bDw9_gFmsPEwvOCRFkE/s1600/wp_ss_20151104_0007+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="249" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPXkntkA0Sje9INIMmrlJw8k87dvjDmyoMl5yJQwMd3bhZE2XXlc5D1jfRy7R44ivm9_SR4G_D70tnZqQJeNIRh4HZdscYohzcVroJWfdVttz32Z7mDk9o5t_3bDw9_gFmsPEwvOCRFkE/s320/wp_ss_20151104_0007+%25282%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Uh. What?! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Get. Over. It.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This is simply a demeaning way for someone to say, " I know I hurt you. I know I was wrong. BUT...I don't care!"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Ok, you've been lied to your whole life (Please. Seriously?) so it's completely acceptable for you to do it to others. Uhm. NO.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW3zneGVey1vAV2wRDK53c5X4bnRkfuCM4a6XWKaagGKKfUv9XlJq5OmJkxlbsx2ruxOwPXPKZtfbvuYC5ifTtgczZBxjVVuNSOh-lAZBl6dqSAJ5IANpL0Tli-S7kNb8VUws9PJuF_1s/s1600/wp_ss_20151104_0008+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW3zneGVey1vAV2wRDK53c5X4bnRkfuCM4a6XWKaagGKKfUv9XlJq5OmJkxlbsx2ruxOwPXPKZtfbvuYC5ifTtgczZBxjVVuNSOh-lAZBl6dqSAJ5IANpL0Tli-S7kNb8VUws9PJuF_1s/s320/wp_ss_20151104_0008+%25282%2529.jpg" width="212" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvRR8ZY2xJ0uyrwEm73DoGWjmcsXm8F05Q1xIhh3d48PlH71cCNQww-uGbaMoi_C8vQzrRT28er_POOgXW3vClI5Z_1o-VM4K3jkSV879aZVt0XO-CNUWqoXABrWgparbmuJPckyK0kdE/s1600/wp_ss_20151104_0009+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvRR8ZY2xJ0uyrwEm73DoGWjmcsXm8F05Q1xIhh3d48PlH71cCNQww-uGbaMoi_C8vQzrRT28er_POOgXW3vClI5Z_1o-VM4K3jkSV879aZVt0XO-CNUWqoXABrWgparbmuJPckyK0kdE/s320/wp_ss_20151104_0009+%25282%2529.jpg" width="257" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I really have something to say here. No. I'm NOT quick to force people out of my life. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I'm 45 years old. FORTY FIVE! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Just in the past few years have I even begun to believe that I am worthy of love and respect and taking care of myself. I've learned that I matter. I MATTER! How I feel matters. How people treat me and how I allow them to treat me matters. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I used to be a door mat.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Followed the crowd and did what I was told.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Didn't speak up for myself.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Took a lot of shit from a lot of people.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I was a very negative person.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQXltjkiJHJ5HxC453lto0G9gCx-q2e4PGMUeDHvJwmjCrsoUVonVITghRPyI6pSBbJIvylqffu9gUncA_mJ-1wBmBahG5zl7Q2JfGP2TRjMH-fMn3TlbJ06DNqN8xounfZE_R-TZnFVs/s1600/wp_ss_20151104_0010+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQXltjkiJHJ5HxC453lto0G9gCx-q2e4PGMUeDHvJwmjCrsoUVonVITghRPyI6pSBbJIvylqffu9gUncA_mJ-1wBmBahG5zl7Q2JfGP2TRjMH-fMn3TlbJ06DNqN8xounfZE_R-TZnFVs/s320/wp_ss_20151104_0010+%25282%2529.jpg" width="262" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But NO MORE! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I don't remove people from my life on a whim, simply because I get upset by what they've said or done. I remove them when I notice a pattern of years and years of the same crap, same lies and same behaviors. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Those same people are so fast to point fingers at me and scream that I'm being unfair, unreasonable and looking for drama. Nope. I've changed. I cannot and will not be controlled by anyone any more. I think for myself. I do what I need to do to take care of myself. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGPRxNIR4FAvMOFNLN0ZvLmUa1L-7P4QX6_-ExD7gi5bBvznrZ9nXyiSjBc7l5GoeeVuHyeNt3h7XBCVmz7M-thg7Yfwj-7HDGKSNosMeLDpuWcAzl0JOb3Kwn3HFPMOiG7tfmW4BRP_c/s1600/wp_ss_20151104_0011+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGPRxNIR4FAvMOFNLN0ZvLmUa1L-7P4QX6_-ExD7gi5bBvznrZ9nXyiSjBc7l5GoeeVuHyeNt3h7XBCVmz7M-thg7Yfwj-7HDGKSNosMeLDpuWcAzl0JOb3Kwn3HFPMOiG7tfmW4BRP_c/s320/wp_ss_20151104_0011+%25282%2529.jpg" width="221" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Stop focusing on the negative and look at the good shit." Believe me - I am. That's why I've removed so many people from my life. I surround myself with the good because I don't have time for the drama.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">No - not all things can be talked about and worked through. I gave you that opportunity and you shot it down. (See above.) Plus, when you refuse to acknowledge your behavior and change what you're doing - there is no hope of a relationship.</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">What the fuck have you done, Indeed! </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSm6kJK580_Da0vL0MMsf63dUd-iS58JlRJMaB9t3vp0B5kABNdvfzgj0HqZA4gC4EJny3PFOt4-I21GYjgJAyB8XcBtyz5CgTRHbZcpFmrDy5sp0ybJivEHQ4fAXDMBdrgCGQ-gQf2QA/s1600/wp_ss_20151104_0012+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSm6kJK580_Da0vL0MMsf63dUd-iS58JlRJMaB9t3vp0B5kABNdvfzgj0HqZA4gC4EJny3PFOt4-I21GYjgJAyB8XcBtyz5CgTRHbZcpFmrDy5sp0ybJivEHQ4fAXDMBdrgCGQ-gQf2QA/s320/wp_ss_20151104_0012+%25282%2529.jpg" width="244" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Well, for the record.... we've never had any issues between us. And there's never been a time I cut you out of my life. So much for THAT history. It can't be history if it hasn't ever happened before. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You know....the content of what you said doesn't matter one teensy, tiny bit. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Because..... </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqVYzSFEZZA0E9AKTJuSrn8SW91wrRp6Ot2iVxnAlXeNfzexrKwKyiG-uYtUOxMYKXbZwbgEPI2O3OvCgxU__FlOTCTUH1Ma6y7GUhpKcEe-To1RmJZSBCfCRAR43AekVk0_aAeYNqjog/s1600/wp_ss_20151104_0013+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="318" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqVYzSFEZZA0E9AKTJuSrn8SW91wrRp6Ot2iVxnAlXeNfzexrKwKyiG-uYtUOxMYKXbZwbgEPI2O3OvCgxU__FlOTCTUH1Ma6y7GUhpKcEe-To1RmJZSBCfCRAR43AekVk0_aAeYNqjog/s320/wp_ss_20151104_0013+%25282%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You repeatedly approached people I love and lied to them about me. You. Lied. About. The. Words. That. Never. Came. Out. Of. My. Mouth.</span></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So, THIS, my dear brother is why I remove people from my life. </span></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When they....</span></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">REPEATEDLY.</span></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">DELIBERATELY.</span></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">PURPOSE TO HURT ME.</span></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
And now the world can know..... I haven't bad mouthed my sister, my brother or my mother. Someone else was doing it for me without my permission. </div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17724667929738092990noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1752134982076973808.post-5770131578310518202015-09-14T17:10:00.000-05:002015-09-14T17:10:58.377-05:00#14 Things That Confuse Me<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The Matrix</span><br />
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Football</span><br />
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Math - specifically Algebra. Numbers and letters should never be mixed!</span><br />
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Swans and Geese. Hahaha! Inside Joke.</span><br />
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">People that lie to their family to create problems between family members.</span><br />
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Extroverts.</span><br />
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Who killed Jimmy Hoffa?</span><br />
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Why do dog paws smell like Fritos? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17724667929738092990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1752134982076973808.post-82848570842630454652015-09-13T17:02:00.000-05:002015-09-14T17:07:19.555-05:00#13 My Dream Jobs<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCb2VY5orJZ4VJ4W_wsBaKqA5HycvNfcgbQOU3LGDSC0E71Pb5tyUPDipgKzJlizOfWhyphenhyphen_4sQ4MvrGHH-QauBEjyMtfCUgLSLbn9skJ7JXIgmsVnT-Q_KXO4Q01WFqXwx79HONQ7EzUag/s1600/407524_10100302306427905_61402193_52485875_1439077779_n.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCb2VY5orJZ4VJ4W_wsBaKqA5HycvNfcgbQOU3LGDSC0E71Pb5tyUPDipgKzJlizOfWhyphenhyphen_4sQ4MvrGHH-QauBEjyMtfCUgLSLbn9skJ7JXIgmsVnT-Q_KXO4Q01WFqXwx79HONQ7EzUag/s400/407524_10100302306427905_61402193_52485875_1439077779_n.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Traveler</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Author - novels and children's books</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Clinic Manager</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Coffee Shop Owner</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Professional Fitness Model</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">CEO of Childhood Sexual Abuse Non-Profit organization that is larger that that pink ribbon one.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17724667929738092990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1752134982076973808.post-50611212228438965342015-09-12T08:30:00.000-05:002015-09-14T16:55:12.685-05:00#12 Things I Learned This Week<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It takes teamwork and communication to paddle a canoe.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Sean does not belong in a canoe.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Cards Against Humanity is deliciously genius. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Some people will be fake and lie to your face until the day they die. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">London has putrid mustard, corn on the cob that tastes like cardboard and waiters that should pay you to put up with their service.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I'm ready.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17724667929738092990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1752134982076973808.post-6634273054342358062015-09-11T16:37:00.000-05:002015-09-14T16:37:28.325-05:00#11 Best Friends<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjscDFLnfkWJHXoEqWTybUSDOaiW_59_9kspyVK0ZWdhBy6nJB8aWQe4lm4NsofBI6j3i-usN9aNnWezddxNoaGSFb2NtYale63vAGB8NZ6rogzHc6g2oM0DVjb3Z3ZsrKg7-7wsgszNVc/s1600/%252311+friends.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjscDFLnfkWJHXoEqWTybUSDOaiW_59_9kspyVK0ZWdhBy6nJB8aWQe4lm4NsofBI6j3i-usN9aNnWezddxNoaGSFb2NtYale63vAGB8NZ6rogzHc6g2oM0DVjb3Z3ZsrKg7-7wsgszNVc/s400/%252311+friends.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17724667929738092990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1752134982076973808.post-76252833192111227802015-09-10T18:30:00.000-05:002015-09-14T16:18:28.275-05:00#10 Favorite Souvenirs<br />
<ul>
<li style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Tan lines</span></li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Memories</span></li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Photos</span></li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Shot glasses</span></li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Seashells and Rocks</span></li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">New Friends</span></li>
</ul>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17724667929738092990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1752134982076973808.post-47122916830049827792015-09-09T16:15:00.000-05:002015-09-14T16:16:09.155-05:00#9 On My Fall List<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Wow....I think this is the smallest list I've ever had for things I want to do! Can we say....Relaxation?</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga6p9maIS_SZ94eGF1f9WtXE9jB0SlkjWGtdwShcHZ6OsTSQQh5ZtEO8MdqzvtOe0IBXIRn65gvwWdvbcQK2u-W0-gnjLFs8tluzgXwlYFpvwsz7t-P5QrrvzPu6SOUuSH-lrYkv6s4TY/s1600/%25239+fall.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga6p9maIS_SZ94eGF1f9WtXE9jB0SlkjWGtdwShcHZ6OsTSQQh5ZtEO8MdqzvtOe0IBXIRn65gvwWdvbcQK2u-W0-gnjLFs8tluzgXwlYFpvwsz7t-P5QrrvzPu6SOUuSH-lrYkv6s4TY/s400/%25239+fall.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17724667929738092990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1752134982076973808.post-33649043185207275002015-09-08T15:46:00.000-05:002015-09-14T15:46:47.632-05:00#8 My Pinterest Boards<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Oh, what would we do without Pinterest?!</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9Pzp9JNxEpy_8i5OV6j6XLHkyghb8e4rypAdTvjFXTXmrRbGqoPmzGBs4fCjVK8oH4J89MWIMM47Zx9KBrwtEaqIETwtUBqN9JT2iKcgZzpbkhpgETPaBAl2prR8G-iJH34OcwXr95nw/s1600/%25238.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9Pzp9JNxEpy_8i5OV6j6XLHkyghb8e4rypAdTvjFXTXmrRbGqoPmzGBs4fCjVK8oH4J89MWIMM47Zx9KBrwtEaqIETwtUBqN9JT2iKcgZzpbkhpgETPaBAl2prR8G-iJH34OcwXr95nw/s400/%25238.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17724667929738092990noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1752134982076973808.post-3023891248119836532015-09-07T17:00:00.000-05:002015-09-08T21:42:36.986-05:00#7 What I would do if I knew I couldn't fail<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggOcUehfFd2J16hBB_Y7Q7SaVVuHkPnnycweaui97VWIGVP2TFgwqE7WMoPOt6XcV2rR3mQQLVgIyGL62vzgbOUAfDGQ2GsYOSkRqdsMrRcbJSljLRoERo7puAqTcsDAvVCcRp5DPTUsc/s1600/7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggOcUehfFd2J16hBB_Y7Q7SaVVuHkPnnycweaui97VWIGVP2TFgwqE7WMoPOt6XcV2rR3mQQLVgIyGL62vzgbOUAfDGQ2GsYOSkRqdsMrRcbJSljLRoERo7puAqTcsDAvVCcRp5DPTUsc/s400/7.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17724667929738092990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1752134982076973808.post-51518515830134737332015-09-06T21:19:00.000-05:002015-09-08T21:19:32.228-05:00# 6 - My Favorite Things to Eat for Breakfast<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyDc3kwKLFIE4gVpzKEyi43sJkQCDll7uR5pkgHpH0kg9aNwC_l0-R3sc3CdEgw4-Eeq4NT7PL8gYJlyg2PmWVBD7zi5Urw13L1FFkRkDmGHdG7qEmb4ck1VOnlU5W4MYyVHkwobZgiCc/s1600/list+6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyDc3kwKLFIE4gVpzKEyi43sJkQCDll7uR5pkgHpH0kg9aNwC_l0-R3sc3CdEgw4-Eeq4NT7PL8gYJlyg2PmWVBD7zi5Urw13L1FFkRkDmGHdG7qEmb4ck1VOnlU5W4MYyVHkwobZgiCc/s400/list+6.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17724667929738092990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1752134982076973808.post-1922284547258399452015-09-05T00:00:00.000-05:002015-09-08T21:20:05.925-05:00List #5 Movies That Make Me Laugh<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnBQutu0FFISChHYa5QmNwFJzQade8QMvWfIfjGg9df2MjMU4mHylxg13SX0eIOtLRQlPH8QsWCGptfn1F2L9k6cZ9C7bqmzzQJvh0KZwlMfJiBHwJVF0ksF5suAjEZpsyYoLnTpvIVRM/s1600/Presentation1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnBQutu0FFISChHYa5QmNwFJzQade8QMvWfIfjGg9df2MjMU4mHylxg13SX0eIOtLRQlPH8QsWCGptfn1F2L9k6cZ9C7bqmzzQJvh0KZwlMfJiBHwJVF0ksF5suAjEZpsyYoLnTpvIVRM/s400/Presentation1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">I know I'm forgetting SO many!!</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17724667929738092990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1752134982076973808.post-55273250780291559152015-09-04T19:35:00.000-05:002015-09-08T20:59:48.369-05:00# 4 Things That Keep Me Up At Night<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQl4oRJ4k3GkAdKfdxDtA1GTFE44aRHicEh6GNDDOwxcv1ATVPu-NegyXsFaTE48n31ZmWQoVdn3cD8VFroqc2e6odl2U_ghJiNxkWfoRky36a5JZ_eYRRbvJiRtCt4kwNXjvRsFFjiik/s1600/four+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="470" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQl4oRJ4k3GkAdKfdxDtA1GTFE44aRHicEh6GNDDOwxcv1ATVPu-NegyXsFaTE48n31ZmWQoVdn3cD8VFroqc2e6odl2U_ghJiNxkWfoRky36a5JZ_eYRRbvJiRtCt4kwNXjvRsFFjiik/s640/four+%25282%2529.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17724667929738092990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1752134982076973808.post-33211449940104695582015-09-03T16:36:00.001-05:002015-09-08T21:00:46.126-05:00List # 3 Favorite Days of the Year<div>
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Favorite Days of the Year</span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Thanksgiving </b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">- Not simply because of the food. Mostly due to the fact that it's time everyone sets aside to come together and be Thankful.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><b style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">1st Day of Spring</b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> - Everything is so full of promise and new.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><b style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The day Big Brother begins!</b><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span><b style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">1st Day of Fall - </b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Crisp air, sweatshirts, the smell of bonfires....</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><b style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Halloween</b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">- Love seeing the children dressed up and scaring the teenagers.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>Lazy, Curl up with Netflix Sundays</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>Stormy, Saturday Afternoons</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><br /></b></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17724667929738092990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1752134982076973808.post-45419891494863395962015-09-02T20:30:00.000-05:002015-09-08T21:01:03.824-05:00List # 2 Today Can Be Best Described As...<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>Today can be best described as....</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Constructive</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A little bit chunky</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Auspicious</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Hustle and Flow</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">HOT! HOT! HOT!</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Innovative</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">An uncomfortable clothes day. UGH.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A full brain day!</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Never-ending phone calls</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17724667929738092990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1752134982076973808.post-33748293010877232282015-09-01T20:00:00.000-05:002015-09-08T21:01:19.659-05:00List #1 What You Might Have Heard About Me...<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">If you know me, you realize that I am an incurable list maker. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I Love Lists!</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I joined a 30 Day List challenge in the hopes that it will rouse my writing passion again because I've somehow misplaced it. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So. Here is goes......</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>What you might have heard about me....</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-align: left;">I'm a Big Brother FANATIC.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-align: left;">I hate being lied to.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-align: left;">Writing is my passion.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-align: left;">I'm an introvert.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-align: left;">I'm addicted to Candy Crush and Soda Crush. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-align: left;">I'd rather snuggle up at home than go out and party.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-align: left;">I'm a little OCD about certain things. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17724667929738092990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1752134982076973808.post-2023227707619757482015-04-27T19:09:00.001-05:002015-04-27T19:09:13.831-05:00Rise of the Phoenix Healing Support Group<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnqrd5cclL5Vmf8PG2KSLBO8-3ivAUSnwPpzY2SXml5Ht4BA1lNg0zbewQmpVDCFcI5gBTBBlOO-WXVszvx4eZDeg_-J1UCEFVDEvhpbxfuSgTQYGWu4P1PVI7yqmldoE1HIRhwIHokmc/s1600/Phoenix+pic+(2).png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnqrd5cclL5Vmf8PG2KSLBO8-3ivAUSnwPpzY2SXml5Ht4BA1lNg0zbewQmpVDCFcI5gBTBBlOO-WXVszvx4eZDeg_-J1UCEFVDEvhpbxfuSgTQYGWu4P1PVI7yqmldoE1HIRhwIHokmc/s1600/Phoenix+pic+(2).png" height="640" width="482" /></a></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17724667929738092990noreply@blogger.com0Monticello, MN, USA45.3055201 -93.79413779999998745.2161741 -93.955499299999985 45.3948661 -93.632776299999989tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1752134982076973808.post-50014286094086191892015-03-21T16:40:00.000-05:002015-03-21T16:41:22.538-05:00A Giraffe, a Booth and Me<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So many things happening right now! Today I'm spending some time finalizing things for the Rise of the Phoenix Healing Support Group - agenda, rules, goals, etc. Hopefully I'll be able to finish planning our first lesson/ discussion this weekend, also. We start in just a hair over two weeks!! After dreaming of this for 6 years - I can't believe how incredibly FAST it has all come together. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
This morning I manned (womaned) the booth for the Sexual Assault Center at the Buffalo Wellness Expo. Truthfully, I was kind of dreading it even though I had volunteered myself.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I'm not an outgoing person. Huge introvert here!</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I hate small talk with people I don't know.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I was going alone.</span></li>
</ul>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And the biggest reason..... people avoid anything relating to sexual assault or abuse like the plague. It's like having a booth where you give away free STD's - no one is going to visit it. I had just set up the booth when one of the administrators for the Expo came over and explained that our booth was one of the places visitors had to stop to receive a stamp in order to be entered in the drawing for the iPad mini.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I giggled a little. Ha! You will all HAVE to acknowledge this issue today! </span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Then she gave me my stamp. It was a Giraffe! My favorite animal - next to the goat. It was like a sign. A sign that I was in the exact spot where I was supposed to be today. For four hours I watched people as they started down the aisle where I was located. Some of them would make eye contact with me.....and then see the sign on the tablecloth. They looked as if they had just witnessed their parents having sex and quickly moved on only to realize I held one of the keys they needed to unlock the golden egg. They would return, almost shamefully, and ask in their most polite voice for a stamp. I would oblige, of course, with a huge smile. Ha! Gotcha! </span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I actually had two people - 1 male and 1 female- make jokes. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Hey! I haven't been sexually assaulted in years. Where do I sign up?!" </span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"I was told at one of the other booths that I can get sexually assaulted for free at your booth." </span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I felt like punching them both in the throat but I managed to refrain. If they had ever been a victim of sexual violence or had a loved one who had been - rape jokes would not be funny to them. But this is how our society is. Rape jokes are 'funny'. Sexual assault is the victim's fault. Sexual abuse should not be talked about because it is shameful. Hello, People! Educate yourselves. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This subject needs discussed because the silence and jokes only hide the issue and destroy lives. </span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Others, surprisingly, were not in avoidance mode and walked straight up to the booth to grab fliers, ask about our services and support groups. I became choked up on more than one occasion when person after person came up to me and thanked me for what I was doing. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"My daughter is a Survivor." </span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"I work with several kids who use these services."</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"I am a Survivor. I know this too well."</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"I've never needed these services and don't know what it is like but there is more of this out there than anyone knows. Thank you." </span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I don't do what I do to get recognition. Anyone who truly knows me knows that it makes me uncomfortable to be in the spotlight. I do this because I lived the shame, pain and fear. I made it through the darkness and want to help others find their way. But today it felt good to hear Thank You so many times. Every time someone said those words to me I heard a still, small voice inside say, "You belong right here. This is your path." </span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This past week, I've received confirmation after confirmation that I am exactly where I am supposed to be. That every step I've taken to get here has served its purpose. That each decision I've made has been the right one. Even the painful and negative (in some people's minds) decision to cut my parents and siblings out of my life has been reaffirmed to me this past week. It never ceases to amaze me that God knows the exact time we need to hear things. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I feel a shift happening. A shaking off of all things painful, negative and oppressive that have hung over my head for so long. There is this ball of energy I feel deep within my soul that feels as if its about to burst and I can't wait to see what emerges! </span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17724667929738092990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1752134982076973808.post-81244362219952074132015-01-28T19:23:00.001-06:002015-01-28T19:23:56.027-06:00A Phone Call, Tears and......
<br />
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
I got a
phone call today that brought me tears. Good tears. Tears of Gratitude. Tears
of realization that I have completely come full circle. But - I digress. Let's
back up a bit.</div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
In
November I completed my retraining with the Central MN Sexual Assault Center to
become an Advocate again. It was not as difficult this time around. The first
time through I struggled. Really struggled. I was brand new on my Healing
Journey and trying to come to grips with my Truth and I wanted to take on the
world! My heart was already chasing the calling I felt. Truth was- I just
wasn't ready and still had a lot of work to do on myself. The biggest piece
this time around, I think, was that I was more prepared within my mind and
soul. I am completely comfortable with my Truth and the journey I have taken. I
am at peace with not having my parents or siblings in my life. Most importantly
- I LOVE the Me I discovered hiding under all the pain, lies and ugliness of
the past. </div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
We were
constantly reminded each week to wind down, treat ourselves kindly and do
something relaxing because this line of work and subject matter can be
extremely difficult and stressful. Since I had a 45 mn ride home, I would pop
my boy, Kirk Franklin, into the CD player and blast it. (Yes, I even blew a
speaker. Hubby is not happy about that.) Throughout my journey when I needed
strength, to be reminded who I was and where I was going, and to find my center
I would turn to this song - <span style="font-style: italic;">Declaration (This
Is It). </span>It's the song I listened to on repeat for over 2 hours while I
waited to give my victim impact statement. It's my life's theme song. And yes-
the one I blew my speaker on. </div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
I had
started experiencing anxiety, doubt and fears during the early part of
training. I won't even go into all the things that were being thrown at me, but
the past came to life again. All the years of hard work felt as if they'd never
happened. I was being attacked for removing my parents and siblings from my
life. Lies were being told about me. My PTSD reared its ugly head and I became
jumpy, couldn't sleep, was on constant high alert. So many<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>things came at me and attacked me. I kept
asking WHY?! Why is all this happening? One night driving home, I just started
yelling at God and demanding answers. I was Fed Up. I kept hitting repeat on
the CD player and <span style="font-style: italic;">Declaration </span>kept
playing over and over and over. And OVER. Then I heard it. I heard God's voice
in the song. </div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: italic;">I look back now, I look at how you tried to break me</span></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: italic;">To take my life, my peace of mind and drive me crazy</span></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: italic;">My self esteem, my dreams, my destiny</span></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: italic;">So, God allowed it, because He knew He had big plans
for me</span></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: italic;">Hallelujah!</span></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: italic;">It's your grace, I know today it's how I made it</span></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: italic;">Thank You, Jesus</span></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: italic;">When I thought that it was over</span></div>
<div style="color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
I am
Healed. I overcame my past, the abuse, the pain - everything. God brought me
through it and WE (joint effort) did a lot of work on this girl. I believe that
God has huge plans for me. It does not explain the abuse I endured but the
journey I've taken has completely prepared me for those plans. And here I was -
pursuing the call and passion He has placed on my heart. You know when God is
using you in a mighty way that the devil wants to steal your joy, your blessing
and discourage you to the point that you quit. He wants to blind you so that
you can no longer see where you are or remember the good things God has already
done. </div>
<div style="color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
Anger
instantly flooded my veins. My blinders were OFF and the game was ON! I began
screaming at the top of my lungs while driving down 94…….Oh, no you didn't!!
You will NOT steal from me! You can't take my joy, my blessings, my calling -
my life! You're a liar. You hear me? A LIAR. I am healed! I am WHOLE! God gave
that to me and it's not yours to take! You tried to destroy me as a child
through what was done to me. The joke is on you! God's taking something
horrible and ugly that you gave me and has turned it into something beautiful,
amazing and is using me to touch others. Get out of my life! You have nothing
on me and no power over me!</div>
<div style="color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
I yelled
so loud and for so long that my throat ached. Seriously, who does he think he
IS?! Guess what? The anxiety, fear, doubts - Left. POOF! I had found my
Strength again. Let's go back even further…..2009…..to fill in some more gaps.
Sitting in my support group, fresh on my Healing Journey, angry, raw with pain
and my advocate asks me, "Tell me what it looks like when Lori is a
Thriver." (There are 3 stages: Victim, Survivor and Thriver. That calls
for a separate post at a later date.) I was so taken aback and angry by her
question that I told her she was a fucking lunatic. Really - I haven't even
come to accept where I am RIGHT NOW. How dare you ask such a stupid question! I
love my advocate. Truly LOVE her. She took no offense and even giggled a bit.
She explained that even though it seems completely impossible at this very
minute, I will reach that level one day and it's important to visualize what
that will look like for myself. Could I dig inside just a bit, push past the
anger and pain, and see the future Thriver Lori? </div>
<div style="color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
Fine. In
a perfect world, where I've worked through all this crap, Thriver Lori is an
Advocate for those who are struggling to find their voice and their Truth.
She's helping others on their own Healing Journey and showing them that there
is Hope. She's running her own support group(s), blogging about childhood
sexual abuse and involved in bringing awareness to the issue.</div>
<div style="color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
Did I
believe that would ever happen? Honestly - no. In that very moment I thought my
pain, shame, guilt and anger were here to stay and were my new life. They felt
like permanent appendages. Weights that would surely drown me and cause my
death. </div>
<div style="color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
Fast
forward to today. TODAY. </div>
<div style="color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin-left: .375in; margin: 0in;">
I am an Advocate. Blog about my journey. Get PAID to blog. I am
constantly Tweeting, Facebooking and bringing awareness to Childhood Sexual
Abuse. I am not ashamed of my Truth or to speak out. </div>
<div style="color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin-left: .375in; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
This week
I attended the Board of Directors Meeting for the center. I am in the process
of becoming a member. ME. ME! Lori the THRIVER! And….. Drum roll, please……</div>
<div style="color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
I got a
call from the center and am being given my own support group here in
Monticello. ME! THRIVER LORI! I can barely hold back the tears as I type this.
God is so GOOD. He just keeps opening doors for me. I am so overwhelmed with
gratitude and so proud of myself. I have come full circle. GOD HAS BROUGHT ME
FULL CIRCLE. </div>
<div style="color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin-left: .75in; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: italic;">So, God allowed it, because He
knew He had big plans for me</span></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin-left: .75in; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: italic;">Hallelujah!</span></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin-left: .75in; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: italic;">It's your grace, I know today
it's how I made it</span></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin-left: .75in; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: italic;">Thank You, Jesus</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17724667929738092990noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1752134982076973808.post-35649681523810819532014-08-03T05:32:00.000-05:002014-08-03T05:41:53.093-05:00"September" by Daughtry<br />
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
Daughtry
is one of my all time favorite bands but every time this song comes across my
iPod I now skip it because it's just too painful. It has reminded me of my
brother and sister from the moment I heard it because it reminded me of the
bond we had as siblings and became one of my favorite songs. But since needing
to remove them from my life it only represents a death to me and makes my soul
ache. </div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Has it all
gone to waste? All the promises we made</span></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">One by one
they vanish just the same</span></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
The
title itself is ironic. September. It's when the abuse started. I've always
hated that month. But God has truly changed that by replacing that hatred with
a blessing and creating a celebration for the month of September. My grandson
was given to me and he is such a joy to my heart! </div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
It
was a Friday in September. Great way to start the weekend, right? The only
reason I remember it was a Friday is because the Dukes of Hazard had been on
and we had watched it with our dad. </div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Of all the
things I still remember</span></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Summer's
never looked the same</span></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
I
wonder what we did that summer? I wish so badly that I could remember playing
hide and seek, playing kickball, walking to the little store to buy penny
candy, playing car-light tag….I wish I could remember how that last summer of
being carefree and just a child felt. I wish I could remember how we laughed
with each other- completely unaware of the thief that was right around the
corner. I wish I had the memories from that summer so I could hold them tightly
and protect them. So I could pull them out and relive them when the awful
memories surface. </div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">The years
go by and time just seems to fly</span></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">But the
memories remain</span></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
Time
is moving so quickly as an adult. I can't believe it's already been a year and
a half since I last spoke to my brother. It feels like just yesterday. Each day
all we do is create memories for tomorrow and, in the end, it's all we have to
hold onto. I don't have many memories from my childhood. There are huge chunks
missing all over the place. Most of what I remember about my siblings is from
our adult lives. </div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Now the
days are so long that summer's moving on</span></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">We reach
for something that's already gone</span></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">We knew we
had to leave this town</span></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">But we
never knew when and we never knew how</span></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">We would
end up here the way we are</span></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Yeah we
knew we had to leave this town</span></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">But we
never knew when and we never knew how</span></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
It's
funny. I always believed that it was the past 5-6 years of the abuse becoming
public that changed us. But it was really that day in September. We were forced
to conform to a life in the darkness, living in fear of anything that resembled
the truth. Choking on words that could have had the power to free us from the
talons of demons. Shamed into pretending we were a healthy, happy family so
that nobody would see we lived on the very same street where hell was built. </div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
But
the truth surfaced as it always does and a wound that was over 30 years old was
violently ripped and slashed open. In the public eye. Friends, family and
strangers gawked at the train wreck and whispered behind their hands. Oh. My.
God. We were like the Emperor walking through the streets believing he was
wearing clothes. We. Were. Buck. Naked. We were uncovered and the world could
see the ugliness we came from. The shame, guilt and complete horror sat like
vomit in our throats as we clawed at anything that would save us. </div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
Initially,
we clung to each other but as the dust began to settle and the nakedness became
more 'comfortable' we turned on each other. We had to. It was in the script. <span style="font-style: italic;">The Ugly Family from Hell Street: Part XII. </span>We
were ordered to play our parts and we played to a standing ovation. Here we are
at the curtain call….</div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Now it all seems so clear.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The nakedness, the guilt, the shame, the pain
were all necessary for me to get to where I am today. </div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">There's nothing left to fear. So we
made our way by finding what was real. </span></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I lived in fear. Fear of the darkness. Fear of
the truth. Fear of people finding out. Fear of all the threats becoming
reality. I feared EVERYTHING. Not anymore. There's no fear in the Truth.
There's no fear in the light. I stared death, abuse, horror and shame in the
face when I was a child. As an adult, I laced up my boxing gloves and went
round after round after round with every memory, fear, belief and emotion. I
went the distance and I conquered each and every last one. I know the
accumulation of all that has transpired is a result of my prayers to God when I
was little and then later as an adult. He is a faithful God and will answer
when the time is right. </div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
I
hope to have the chance to create a real relationship with my dad one day. Not
one blanketed by lies and drenched with unspoken words. Not one that has any
attachment to Hell Street or anything that ugly life entailed. Will I ever have
that? I have no idea but I know I have hope. </div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
Will
my mom ever come around and admit her role in the whole script? Will she ever
acknowledge what I said, stop talking bad about me to cover her own ass and
offer an apology? Who knows. </div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
Will
I ever have a relationship with my siblings again is probably the most
important question in this entire post. When I was being abused, my dad
threatened if I told that my siblings would be taken away from me and I'd never
see them again. It was my greatest fear as a child. You could not have told me
that as an adult that threat would become reality. I would never have believed
you. Yet here we are. </div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
I've
lost my entire family because of something one parent did and the other allowed
to continue. In a normal family, the siblings would have stuck together and
shunned the parents for destroying their lives. We weren't handed that script.
Sometimes when you live where hell was built it's hard to adjust your eyes away
from the darkness and see the destruction around you or even pinpoint the
source of your pain.</div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Reflecting
now on how things could've been</span></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">It was
worth it in the end</span></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
Yes.
It was worth it. All of it. Every. Single. Moment. And if I had the chance to
rewind the last 6 years and do it again, I wouldn't change anything. Even
knowing that I would lose my brother and sister. I know that sounds weird to
some of you because you're in the same boat and would kill to have your
siblings back in your life. </div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
When
I think of where I would be right now had none of the abuse come out- I want to
cry because I am so thankful that I am <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">FREE </span>and healed.<span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"> </span>That freedom and strength and completely new life
outweighs everything I've lost. It doesn't matter to me one way or the other if
any of my family members are part of my life again. I have hope, of course, but
if it never happens I know it's because it's part of His plan. The reason I can
be at peace even in the midst of pain and loss is because I am trusting His
plan, His timing and His wisdom. </div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: "Century Gothic"; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
And
as we peer out across the landscape as another September looms on the horizon,
the memories remain. The pain returns once in awhile. But I'm not longer
reaching for what's already gone. I'm now reaching for my grandson's hands that
are full of hope and love. They are symbols of the strongholds that
September no longer has. </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17724667929738092990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1752134982076973808.post-70188120553541078202014-06-25T21:55:00.000-05:002014-06-25T22:03:23.392-05:00A Change of Heart<div class="copy-paste-block" style="text-align: center;">
<span class="bqQuoteLink"><b><span class="bqQuoteLink">"Empathy is about finding echoes of another person in yourself." - Mohsin Hamid</span></b> </span></div>
<div class="copy-paste-block">
</div>
<div class="copy-paste-block">
<span class="bqQuoteLink">I heard some things the other day about someone that is not one of my favorite people. She is everything you would never want to be. </span></div>
<div class="copy-paste-block">
</div>
<div class="copy-paste-block">
<span class="bqQuoteLink">Judgemental. Two-faced. Jealous. Vindictive. Rude. Just a really mean person. </span></div>
<div class="copy-paste-block">
</div>
<div class="copy-paste-block">
<span class="bqQuoteLink">I could go on and on. But, just like everyone, she has another side to her that is good. She's talented and creative. Loves her kids. She's smart. What I heard wasn't good and for a split second, I felt a surge of happiness that FINALLY she had gotten what she deserved. And surprisingly, that feeling went away as quickly as it had come.</span></div>
<div class="copy-paste-block">
<span class="bqQuoteLink"><br /></span></div>
<div class="copy-paste-block">
<span class="bqQuoteLink">Instead, I felt sadness for her and her situation. Her childhood sucked. Really sucked. And her adult life has been spent running, hiding and otherwise trying to deal with it without actually facing it. Those demons have chased her and taunted her and she has finally been chained to the "fate" of those before her. I feel bad that those childhood demons and the sins of her parents have created such a painful spot in her life that she became who she is today. And it makes me sad that she's not only losing herself but those around her. </span></div>
<div class="copy-paste-block">
<span class="bqQuoteLink"><br /></span></div>
<div class="copy-paste-block">
<span class="bqQuoteLink">At the end of the day, I realized that the past few years have changed me more than I thought. If this had happened to this woman 4 years ago, I would have felt giddy and smug that karma had kicked her in the ass and paid her back for every mean and bitchy thing she ever did to me, said to me, and lied about me. I would have floated higher than Cloud 9 for MONTHS. But I've grown and changed. The fact that I can feel compassion for my 'enemy' is beyond amazing to me. I can put myself in her shoes because I had a childhood that could very well have destroyed me had I not dug deep and dealt with it. I could be her right now but I was given the choice to walk down a different path and I took it. </span></div>
<div class="copy-paste-block">
</div>
<div class="copy-paste-block">
<span class="bqQuoteLink">I thank God that my heart is different. I would hate to walk around wishing and waiting for Karma to strike those that have hurt me. What a miserable existence. </span></div>
<div class="copy-paste-block">
<span class="bqQuoteLink"><br /></span></div>
<div class="copy-paste-block">
<span class="bqQuoteLink"><br /></span></div>
<div class="copy-paste-block">
</div>
<div class="copy-paste-block">
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17724667929738092990noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1752134982076973808.post-429830738146269042014-06-12T20:01:00.001-05:002014-06-12T20:01:36.125-05:00Les Misérables<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOGgQCAHyeulZ6vzGlif5u2hxT0Z9hgIcCB4hU1SJZflezQHqflaS4cw1G-IBON54zwKRKUVOokNzaU42E3-SBB1auc3xPTwkkTpbe33BAv-t_LRP0rXvqcEOBZrlcgVmST4KNHAhe22A/s1600/MjAxMy1iODk2MmNlMjRiOGQ5ODE1.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOGgQCAHyeulZ6vzGlif5u2hxT0Z9hgIcCB4hU1SJZflezQHqflaS4cw1G-IBON54zwKRKUVOokNzaU42E3-SBB1auc3xPTwkkTpbe33BAv-t_LRP0rXvqcEOBZrlcgVmST4KNHAhe22A/s1600/MjAxMy1iODk2MmNlMjRiOGQ5ODE1.png" height="224" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggoqPkYQ7PJvdR4Ifvv4sD76jAkLRO3du774BMeztWzX7HpB2JGRnC5yCsiA-f6seQWQfj8y463khfdyjS31VF_dg5nyGMWBVMqgWat3sKitEQikWgMmhSRALZBcMF_lfj52iYlRQ7Dww/s1600/664928e9fe4f7febc5aea555a0644fac.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggoqPkYQ7PJvdR4Ifvv4sD76jAkLRO3du774BMeztWzX7HpB2JGRnC5yCsiA-f6seQWQfj8y463khfdyjS31VF_dg5nyGMWBVMqgWat3sKitEQikWgMmhSRALZBcMF_lfj52iYlRQ7Dww/s1600/664928e9fe4f7febc5aea555a0644fac.jpg" /></a><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Do you know someone like this? Or are YOU that person? People who are happy with themselves and with their lives do not have time to spend energy on spewing lies and crap about others. They're busy chasing and living their dreams. </span><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
The one thing I've noticed about these miserable people is that their negative energy is like a black ooze that permeates into every area of their life and, if they're lucky, affects those around them. This is what they want, after all. These gloomy, sad souls want nothing more than to drag everyone down to the level of despair that they feel. They will spend their time pointing out the faults and failures of others to anyone who is foolish enough to listen. Why? Because it makes them feel superior, smarter and better about themselves. If they can drag someone down, trample their name and paint a horrible picture about that person to the world it gives them a rush and a feeling, for a very short time, of satisfaction. The result, of course, isn't that people think any less of the person whose life and reputation they are trying to destroy. Instead, the miserable gossiper is the one who looks like a fool in the end. People begin to associate their name with someone who can't be trusted and who is malicious and ugly inside.<br />
<br />
Don't be that person! Stop and ask yourself why do you want to hurt that person? What part of their life are you envious of? What characteristic do they have that you want? Are you just so bored with your life that anyone who comes along and is the least bit happy with themselves becomes your target?<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Then do something about it! </b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Go begin a new hobby, change jobs, get a job, go back to school....work on yourself! Start making yourself into the kind of person you dream about. Begin living your dreams and setting goals instead of tearing someone else down. If you're the one who is being trash talked and there's someone who can't seem to stop talking about you ......</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Be thankful and count your blessings!</b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Number one- you already know you're happy, content and feeling fulfilled in your life so you should be giving thanks on a daily basis already.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Second, someone sees something so inherently <i>good </i>in you that not only do they want it for themselves but they want to take it away from you. Don't let them. Ignore the sad, pathetic people and what they are saying. Remember, it's not you who will suffer anyway. Negativity and unkindness always ricochet back to the source and do more damage on their return then the initial hit on the intended target. </div>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQEBNPQ_tdz-NOeqLDzxnl-OAutj5sjEX8BFV549MtW_l8Ph7BklPudQOTLPKh5xpgtKKEYd07_l_VotISSyh9I5cSOTASQHcswXkvaj-oygVHY3fLaEg0PmBpopfNyW8pDbo_VpSnND4/s1600/84423d7cc74aaa4298f7fcda3cf6da18.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQEBNPQ_tdz-NOeqLDzxnl-OAutj5sjEX8BFV549MtW_l8Ph7BklPudQOTLPKh5xpgtKKEYd07_l_VotISSyh9I5cSOTASQHcswXkvaj-oygVHY3fLaEg0PmBpopfNyW8pDbo_VpSnND4/s1600/84423d7cc74aaa4298f7fcda3cf6da18.jpg" height="279" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17724667929738092990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1752134982076973808.post-45568025753211381062014-05-23T00:03:00.000-05:002014-05-23T00:03:54.435-05:00I Can See Your Dirty Laundry!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQBU_DzaFUWU4YsnHVoUAyjQ_-FarV6hyNbPj7QOIQYAEjkzHYIvNJQJfKCvF0Hrg2GYAWRoInH80n1MoBmQAwYIzdocwfx2nQyzQqmAcuUIriCz68V2xTm5HfMSSG9RlqFAhVngr_2u4/s1600/Header2.png~original.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQBU_DzaFUWU4YsnHVoUAyjQ_-FarV6hyNbPj7QOIQYAEjkzHYIvNJQJfKCvF0Hrg2GYAWRoInH80n1MoBmQAwYIzdocwfx2nQyzQqmAcuUIriCz68V2xTm5HfMSSG9RlqFAhVngr_2u4/s1600/Header2.png~original.png" height="147" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
Hopefully
you don't have piles of your dirty dainties lying around your home for guests
to gawk at! But that's the general idea for the term "airing your dirty
laundry." Nobody wants to see it and you should do everything you can to
keep it under wraps. </div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: "Goudy Stout"; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">
Dirty laundry= dirty secrets</div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
This
has been the main topic in discussions with several of the victims I’m working
with lately. Why is it that when a victim or Survivor tells their story - their
LIFE experience - it's considered dirty laundry? This reference to dirty
laundry is really offensive and hurtful because it is telling that person -
"Hey. YOU don't matter. Your story isn't important. I don't care what
happened to you. Your life is nothing but dirty rags." </div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
Car
accident victim</div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
911
terrorist attack victim</div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
Family
of a murder victim</div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
Someone
with a terminal disease</div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
Soldier
with PTSD</div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
Children
of alcoholics</div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
They
are all allowed to share their stories, pain and ways they made it through the
trauma. None of them asked for the mess. These things were done to them. Yet
society completely accepts and listens to this part of who they are. But when a
victim of childhood sexual abuse begins to find their voice and share what has
happened to them they are forsaken by family, called names and told they need
to shut up. For some reason, the victim is bullied into believing that what was
done to them is somehow <span style="font-style: italic;">their </span>guilt and
shame to carry. </div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: "Goudy Stout"; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">
Shhh! Don't tell! This is our secret.</div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
Abusers
go to great lengths in order to get their victims to keep quiet. In my own
experience, the threats made to me if I told were:</div>
<ul style="direction: ltr; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .375in; margin-top: 0in; unicode-bidi: embed;" type="disc">
<li style="color: #0c0c0c; margin-bottom: 0; margin-top: 0; vertical-align: middle;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt;">I would be arrested </span></li>
<li style="color: #0c0c0c; margin-bottom: 0; margin-top: 0; vertical-align: middle;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt;">My mom would be thrown in jail</span></li>
<li style="color: #0c0c0c; margin-bottom: 0; margin-top: 0; vertical-align: middle;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt;">I'd be sent away and never see
my family again</span></li>
<li style="color: #0c0c0c; margin-bottom: 0; margin-top: 0; vertical-align: middle;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt;">Since he was "in"
with the cops, they would believe him over me</span></li>
<li style="color: #0c0c0c; margin-bottom: 0; margin-top: 0; vertical-align: middle;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt;">My siblings would be taken
away and I'd never be allowed to see them again</span></li>
<li style="color: #0c0c0c; margin-bottom: 0; margin-top: 0; vertical-align: middle;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt;">He had ways of making me
disappear so no one would ever find me</span></li>
</ul>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin-left: .375in; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
In
addition to threats, abusers will groom the victim and give them a false sense
of being special. They'll buy them presents and treats followed by words such
as, "See? I love you. You're special to me. Nobody will understand. That's
why we have to keep it a secret." The victim is then torn because they
feel shame, guilt and fear accompanied with an intense desire to protect the
abuser. This is especially true if the abuser is a parent.</div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
I lived
my childhood in complete fear that someone would find out. Partly because of
the threats and partly because I was so embarrassed and ashamed at what was
being done to me. The one part of me hated him with a passion and the other
half would defend him to the death to anyone that had a bad word to say about
him. One part wanted to scream and tell and make it stop but the other half
withered inside out of shame and hoped nobody would ever find out. This started
when I was 9 years old and went on until I was just about 16. Do you know a 9,
10, 11 year old? Do you remember being that age? Can you put yourself in their
little shoes and imagine what it is like to have very adult things done to you-
things you should know nothing about- things that hurt physically and
emotionally and at the same time live under the threats, fear and shame? And
then be so twisted up inside because you can't stop loving and protecting this
person who is doing such awful things to you? </div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
I
remember going to great lengths at one point to get someone to realize what was
happening without actually saying anything. I spent a few weeks visiting my
aunt in Colorado and did things in order to get her attention like stealing
money and makeup. It got her attention all right because she knew that I wasn't
that kind of person. She went to her pastor and then brought me in to talk and
I began crying because I felt such relief! They knew! They knew! And I didn't
say anything! It wasn't me that told so none of the awful things he threatened
me with would happen. But they didn't know. They thought it was because my
parents had just divorced and I was having a hard time with it which just made
me cry harder because I was still stuck in hell.</div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
There
was also the day I molested my little brother which still makes me cry to this
day because my brother and my sister were my world. And not that this excuses
it, but as a child who was being abused myself, it was a 'natural' thing to do.
Many children who are being molested will act out and molest other children,
especially siblings. I didn't do it to hurt him yet that was the outcome. I did
it because my little child brain believed that he would tell on me and then the
truth would come out - again without ME having to tell because if I told I
already knew what would happen. As an adult, I see why he never told but as a
child I was unaware of just how dysfunctional our family was or even aware that
my siblings were having issues, fears and feelings of their own - many of which
revolved around what was being done to me. </div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
Oh no!
Did I just hang a pair of my dirty dainties out in public?! No. And here's why.
Sexual abuse continues to happen BECAUSE we keep it a secret. It happens in
secret and victims are threatened to keep it that way. It lives and breathes
because nobody will acknowledge it is there so it roams freely, injuring the
souls and hearts of children who grow up and become dysfunctional, hurting
adults. Family secrets that are kept hidden do not keep families intact. They destroy them from the inside out. These secrets and abuse will continue from generation to generation until they are exposed. Abuse doesn't stop until we speak out. We cannot heal until we use our
voice and share our story. When a person is possessed with a demon and the
pastor is trying to cast it out, most of the time the pastor must <span style="font-style: italic;">name </span>the demon (blasphemy, confusion, pride,
etc.) before it will flee. It is the same way with sexual abuse. We cannot be
free of the pain, shame, anger and the million other things that go along with
it until we can name it, speak out and share what has happened to us. </div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
Victims,
no matter what anyone tells you - it is not your shame or guilt to carry. You
did nothing wrong. Nor are you doing anything wrong by speaking out about it.
Your life and your experiences are NOT dirty laundry. God certainly doesn't see
your life and traumatic experience this way at all so there's no reason anyone
else should, either. You matter! What happened to you matters! How you feel
matters! And your healing journey is important! </div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #0c0c0c; font-family: "Goudy Stout"; font-size: 12.0pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">
Keep speaking! Keep healing!</div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17724667929738092990noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1752134982076973808.post-33541899316575288622014-05-13T23:08:00.000-05:002014-05-13T23:08:23.251-05:00Be Still.....If I could show you a picture of my soul right now it would look a bit like this......<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW1iwrDwKqWbReeQ-gPrusjKQZxqjSInzR6BJIroWYDXbvJ84ox7m_gQP65_vWO2gFNjKNXzYwHujp__kjpaTfkKkNVBglTRvzkFzxrElFDJhJF6QdLXfFVLccYdhZH_99Slzftz3VBoo/s1600/peaceful_solitude_by_raayzel-d4sr202.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW1iwrDwKqWbReeQ-gPrusjKQZxqjSInzR6BJIroWYDXbvJ84ox7m_gQP65_vWO2gFNjKNXzYwHujp__kjpaTfkKkNVBglTRvzkFzxrElFDJhJF6QdLXfFVLccYdhZH_99Slzftz3VBoo/s1600/peaceful_solitude_by_raayzel-d4sr202.png" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
For the first time in my life I feel peace and calm. Oh, yeah - there's still stress filled days, endless homework, deadlines, the occasional missed bill or empty gas tank when I need to be somewhere <i>right now. </i>But it's so weird because even in those hectic times that peace is still inside. It's like a warm, fuzzy blanket all wrapped around my insides.<br />
<br />
A few years ago I asked God to show me what this verse meant -<br />
<br />
<i><b>"</b></i><span class="text Ps-46-10" id="en-KJV-14625"><i><b>Be still, and know that I am God: I will be exalted among the heathen, I will be exalted in the earth." Psalm 46:10</b></i></span><br />
<br />
<span class="text Ps-46-10" id="en-KJV-14625">It took many, many lessons before I finally grasped what it meant. I've always been the type of person that has to have A Plan. I've got to know what's going to happen and when it's going to happen. There needs to be alternatives to The Plan and if something goes wrong I feel that I need to find a way to fix it immediately. The summary of that? I needed to be in control of my every situation because it made me feel safe. I controlled what was going to happen. I controlled what the outcome was. I had an escape plan in case something went wrong. That strong need for control goes back to the abuse and I know many of you understand how that vicious cycle works. But I'm not that person anymore. Partly because I've dealt with those issues and partly because I learned to Be Still.</span><br />
<span class="text Ps-46-10" id="en-KJV-14625"><br /></span>
<span class="text Ps-46-10" id="en-KJV-14625">I first started to develop an understanding when my brother was in Iraq. It scared the living daylights out of me because I had no control over it. There was no way to protect him. Well, there was no way for ME to protect him. I prayed every night and all day long for his safety and the safety of his unit. I would wake up in the night feeling fear and an urgency that he needed prayer. One night, I had a vision that he was being shot at. No matter if I closed my eyes or opened them, it just kept playing out. I dropped to my knees and started crying because I had no idea what was going on. About two days later, my brother Skyped me and told me they had been crossing a bridge or something and that's exactly what happened. When he returned from Iraq, he showed me pictures of the vehicle he'd been in. There were bullet holes everywhere. What grabbed my attention the most was when he showed me the "glass" that had surrounded him because he was one of the guys that sat up at the top of the vehicle. He pointed out the bullet holes that were created and aimed right at his face but never touched him. God is good and faithful.</span><br />
<span class="text Ps-46-10" id="en-KJV-14625"><br /></span>
<span class="text Ps-46-10" id="en-KJV-14625">I remember crying over and over to God for his protection that night. And through my frantic cries I heard a voice say, "Do you trust Me?" What? Yes! Yes, I trust You! But You need to....and please....and do it now! Another voice, "Be still; and know that I am God." Ugh! Ok, ok! What does that mean?! "Remember the double rainbow?" I had begun praying before my brother even left. I was a nervous wreck and had God on constant FaceTime. At the same time, kept asking Him to show me what Be Still meant. God had spoken to me and promised me that my brother would be safe and he would come home. Yet, I kept questioning Him. The night I said good-bye to my brother, a double rainbow had appeared in the sky. God told Noah that he would make a rainbow appear in the sky as a token to man that God was remembering His promise. God had given me TWO rainbows! TWO perfect, full rainbows. Now here He was asking if I remembered those beautiful symbols because He did. As that began to slowly sink into my head, I realized I was losing my mind for nothing. He'd already promised and was now reminding ME of that promise. I heard that voice again, "Be still; and know that I am God." </span><br />
<span class="text Ps-46-10" id="en-KJV-14625"><br /></span>
<span class="text Ps-46-10" id="en-KJV-14625">OoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooH! You are God. YOU. ARE. GOD. YOU have it under control. Oooooooooh!</span><br />
<span class="text Ps-46-10" id="en-KJV-14625"><br /></span>
<span class="text Ps-46-10" id="en-KJV-14625">I finally understood what it meant. But I hadn't learned it yet. This past year has been horrible. I confronted my mom about not only knowing about the abuse but walking in while it happened and never doing anything about it. Her response was, instead of talking to me, was to bad mouth and complain about me to my brother. There was no acknowledgement of what I'd said. No calling me a liar. No apology. Nothing. Except behind my back. Next, my brother decided that I no longer was worthy of a place in his life because I refused to be quiet about my story and now I was "picking" on our "innocent" mother. A few months ago, I removed my sister from my life also. And this is where I learned the full lesson of Be Still. </span><br />
<span class="text Ps-46-10" id="en-KJV-14625"><br /></span>
<span class="text Ps-46-10" id="en-KJV-14625">I began having a horrible gut feeling that she was being one person to my face and another behind my back and I started hearing and seeing things that strengthened that feeling. So I started praying and asked God to either A) show me that it was all in my head or B) give me proof that my gut, ears and eyes were telling me the truth. I already have lost my dad, mom and brother. I didn't want to lose my entire family if I didn't have to. He began showing me proof but I'd ask for more because I didn't want to believe it. The more He showed me the angrier I got. Not at Him but because I knew what I needed to do and I also knew there was no way around it because my family isn't ready to come out of their dysfunction and lies and truly heal. I spent many months just being furious about the whole situation. My narcissistic, lying and play the victim mother. My brother who thinks that dealing and talking about things is 'drama', who refuses to deal with his own demons and thinks he can just bully everyone into doing and believing what he wants. And now my sister, who I had actually begun to trust and thought we had gotten through our issues and had moved onto a new relationship. It all irked me day in and day out to the point it was making me crazy. </span><br />
<span class="text Ps-46-10" id="en-KJV-14625"><br /></span>
<span class="text Ps-46-10" id="en-KJV-14625">One day I just screamed, "What do You want me to do?! I'm sick of this! I'm tired of the lies and backstabbing. I'm sick and tired of my family!" And there it was again. "Be still; and know I am God." Uh, seriously?! Right now?! Did you not just hear what I said? What about that?! "Be still; and know that I am God." As I sat there and pondered that, I realized that He had given me the proof I had needed. He was giving me permission and telling me to let go of my family. They weren't any good for me and it doesn't matter that they're my blood. They aren't willing to talk about anything. They continually tell me to get over everything I have to deal with on a daily basis. They accuse me of being the problem in the family and the reason we aren't a family anymore. Oh- hey! Just for the record....Our DAD made this mess and our MOM allowed it to continue for years. It's THEIR fault. The three of us are the victims and should have stuck together. Instead, they both cling to the abusers and remove me. Oh, well. BE STILL. God reminded me of the burden and desire He's put in my heart to use my story and experience for the good so that </span><span class="text Ps-46-10" id="en-KJV-14625"><i><b>I will be exalted among the heathen, I will be exalted in the earth. </b></i>I can't remain healthy and healed with that kind of negativity and abuse still in my life. I can't bring this dream to fruition if I don't trim those dead limbs off. So....I did it. I deleted the final piece - my sister. Three family members in less than a year - gone. It wasn't easy. But as soon as I did it I felt the peace. Not peace because they're gone but peace because I'm doing what I need to do to stay healed, keep helping people and moving towards that dream. </span><br />
<br />
<span class="text Ps-46-10" id="en-KJV-14625">Peace because He is God. He will fight those battles for me. I don't have to do anything except give it to Him and trust. </span><br />
<span class="text Ps-46-10" id="en-KJV-14625"><br /></span>
<span class="text Ps-46-10" id="en-KJV-14625">Peace because I learned to Be Still. </span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17724667929738092990noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1752134982076973808.post-76923488255565801962014-01-17T18:57:00.000-06:002014-01-17T18:57:07.814-06:00The one thing I've learned....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-edRoSOWWdXsm2k2bWqKwtSVxNVbPqQ1G5SQ8jvDVfrNx-h_EfUMfSokuBVmmajlaTzmarckYo8X0oRfIsgegKELHvEqGst0cEZAhNIKiYl-MWPnugsnFtI-JTMsqeAlRyrSaOpOZbys/s1600/1006376_711957502156912_1594113824_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-edRoSOWWdXsm2k2bWqKwtSVxNVbPqQ1G5SQ8jvDVfrNx-h_EfUMfSokuBVmmajlaTzmarckYo8X0oRfIsgegKELHvEqGst0cEZAhNIKiYl-MWPnugsnFtI-JTMsqeAlRyrSaOpOZbys/s1600/1006376_711957502156912_1594113824_n.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
The one thing I've learned in the past few years is to love myself.<br />
<br />
Believe me......<br />
<br />
After a lifetime of hating, harming and blaming myself for what I was forced to endure, it was extremely hard to finally reach this point.<br />
<br />
I've gained Freedom from my past and Love for myself. That's worth more to me than anything in this world.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17724667929738092990noreply@blogger.com0