Church-and- To: The School System

    Just got back form my appointment. Still queezy but haven't puked in awhile(that may change as I kinda have to eat sometime), hopefully it is one of those bugs that doesn't last long.

    My grandfather told me about a church that doesn't care what your religion is. the do meditation and that sort of stuff. They apparently believe as he put it that "god is within you". They have many religions that go their and the fact that I am wiccan will apparently not be a problem.

    I plan on testing that. I find it easier to know who has a problem with it to begin with rather than wait till later.

    I even told him "you know, my pentacle will be out in the open just to test that right?" "yep" "I will boldly display it" "yep"    I am used to people having a problem with it. It will be good to build supports and such  in the community. To be honest, I favor the idea of going to the same one he does.

    He called it "unity church". My religion is a barrier with some people and it will be nice if this place is everything he says it will be. I personally don't care what someone believes as long as they believe in something.

    Even an atheist strongly believes in being an atheist... though my grandfather used to say "their are no atheist's in a foxhole" -in war a foxhole is that trench thing they are in to lessen the likelihood of getting hit by grenades and whatnot. Basically, the saying means they are all praying to somebody that the trench stays untouched and they stay alive. I don't know if that has any real truth to it, I would have to ask an atheist veteran... though I don't think I will. That is one thing I prefer to just keep as a childhood memory that makes me smile. Besides... while I am sure atheist veterans of war exist... I have never met one. To me, I have always believed in creation and it having to have been created somehow, therein the divine.

    That comes naturally to me. I simply believe that if they are happy that way... who am I to disrupt them in their beliefs?

    For once I am not double blogging today out of fear or anxiousness... but because the idea in of itself of a place where acceptance it had... makes me excited to go check it out. Their are places that say that but are not actually like that. I hope this place is. I may be terrified in my current situation but... if I do not find some reason to smile, I fear I will lose myself and be no good to anyone.

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on another note...

   Today I was also asked question. let me just clear this up.

    My children put everything in their mouths and keeping them away from water of any kind while awake... is damn near impossible(especially for rowan). My children do not know better, quite the opposite, so I have to constantly keep an eye out for things. I have said that before many times, just pointing that out now.

    My anxiety is an issue... to a degree. Typically it is cope-able but currently the situation I am in magnifies it, for lack of a better term. I do not have access to the coping type mechanisms I would need to do what I have been asked to do. To sit in a room full of abusers(and possibly those like me sent their to learn how to break the cycle).

    Sometimes conversation is easier than writing for me. Some are easier to write, some just are so overwhelming after so much that I have to step away and take a break or... strike up a conversation. generally it has more to do with the intensity of the subject and the thoughts it evokes.

    Apparently I am logical enough to be asked if I am good at math. No, worst subject. While I AM logical... nobody ever bothered to sit down and break apart the formulas after my mom. By the time anyone realized how far behind I was, they deemed me a worthless cause and to be honest... a group of us was helped with our AIMS. We were the students deemed to be so behind we would never pass on our own.

    I was part of a group of kids that was taken to basically cheat on the AIMS test. My writing I passed, my reading I passed(though I was asked to consider it as their was a strong possibility by their standards that I wouldn't pass) all on my own. Math, I never passed a third grade level. I know addition, subtraction, basic multiplication(though I can't do it in my head), and very VERY basic division. I have an understanding of decimals to some degree... and can execute them on a calculator. If you ask me to do math in my head, I have trouble with it... unless it is memorized ahead of time, it won't be possible at all, I am ashamed to say.

    I was put in special education. I was bullied because of it. I was not put in special education because I was a horrible student(though many assumed I just didn't want to learn). You would be surprised how many of those end up in that "resource room"-I was put their because I needed things a little differently than the teachers unrealistic expectations. After my mom died, my teacher-who hated her-specifically made assignments for parents to do with their children....... since I had none and she always refused to explain... I got left behind and never caught up. in the resource room you often get pushed aside for the behaviorally challenged kids who are just their because they "act out" in class. Incidentally, at a time directly after going through traumatic loss I was denied the basic fundamental knowledge needed to figure out future problems in math. For me... this means I will have to start over. That was a critical time... for this reason I also have trouble with cursive. I got much back all on my own-I had the fundamental basic knowledge to do so.

    So-to those teachers who hate their students, their job, or just don't wanna do what it takes... when you thoughtlessly or spitefully(she didn't get along with my mom and never liked me to begin with-never knew why) push a student aside when your job is to help them learn the tools they need(no matter how hard it may be at times)... you fail at your job. Every student you deny help or send off to someone else just because you do not wish to deal with them... it is still your job to make sure they learn what they need to be learning by finding a way to work directly with said child.

    When you become a teacher you know you will be spending long hours grading papers and the best ones help students off school hours(honestly-I think teachers should get paid for the time helping and the sleepless nights spent grading papers-but that is just me I suppose). Every teacher who doesn't do this fails every student that gets left behind.

    A teachers job is to teach children. To be honest, longer recess would probably help. The problem isn't teachers OR students on the front of behavior(well this big part anyway). You take oodles of children and place them in a desk expecting them to sit still for unreasonable lengths of time with extremely short "breaks" and see how YOU like it?! Even high schoolers have issues at times. In elementary school they tell you to "get active" and then they cut recess and complain the kids are obese and have behavior problems.

    A child, full of energy made to sit still... put in a desk and made to "focus" on something like that in a boring and uninteresting environment(the kids find it boring-the adults don't matter--- so why not let the kids decorate a classroom every year, that way they each have something interesting to stare at)... bored kids with too much energy that has no place to go... is it me or is common sense lost on the school system?

    With all due respect, teachers can do nothing about a parent who is not involved and refuses to be involved. They CAN help the kids learn. The school system should stop screwing with recess. While it may seem a pointless concept-recess helps children learn vital social skills as well as vent out the energy their bodies create. Longer recess would help concentration in class, and have healthier children in body as well. At least the child who falls asleep in class isn't the child who erupts due to inability to handle all the excess energy in class. so you wake them up and the class laughs and maybe sooner or later they will get it. Would you rather that, or 20-40 over energized kids with nowhere to put said energy.

    Just saying. As a parent I notice my children sleep better and sit STILL more when let run around like little... well children. When you turn school into something that is only tailored to adults wishes... you do not ask for good things form the "universe"... karma, whatever you believe in but it will bite you in the proverbial rectal area and give you cranial discomfort! so you have to calm down the kids after recess... have a time for them to sit quietly or play "heads up 7-up"(this gives the kids who need to rest a few an excuse to lay down their heads and the ones who still have energy in them a way to exert it properly but in a manner that isn't all out like the play-ground). You will always have that one kid that makes you want to pull out your hair-take comfort, your "revenge" is being the teacher who pushes them to be their best... they will thank you later. Think of it as an investment of karma... it may take awhile but... you will get that good karma back.

    The results would not be immediate and it would take adjusting... but school is just as hard(if not harder) for the students as well, not just the teachers. The happy middle ground needs to be found because when you have 20-40 + kids who are too energized to sit still and don't want to do so... you now have a class of uncooperative students who are NOT ready to learn to their fullest potential. You can change the food all you want but let's face it; Even with sugar, proper recess and an engaging class that gets them involved(while exhausting to maintain) is what will keep the kids loving their teacher and having fun and if your lucky... they may not even realize they are learning something. Kids need times to let loose and so do adults so... when things get too much, their IS a little thing called "Fun Friday"... if they like you the students generally listen to you more. If one student bows it, don't cancel the entire classes fun day, make it for the students who behave. it may seem cruel but... when they see how much fun is being had... they will realize you mean business.

All punishing he entire class does is create a vicious cycle. that one student... their only option to being liked by their class is to make the class hate you.

A further thing to consider, not all classrooms benefit from the same methods. At intervals during the year, one should make sure the students are in agreance with it, and leave it diplomatic-like voting.

Now my last thing to say(for now-lol), the school board should hire competent teachers who can and will do their jobs and encourage their students. Like any other job, those who can't do it need to go. These children will one day grow up to be adults. THINK about the habits and lessons you teach! The school board should be their to regulate not be "overlords". If you don't give kids the freedom to be kids and teachers the freedom to teach... what you get is a system that will breed adults who have mental health issues. Anyone notice the "rise" in it or is it just me?

laters

-Luna

PS: I would love to know how appointments are being made and scheduled with ___ ______ ___ without me being notified I HAVE an appointment in the first place! I am rather ticked off about that. Ironically she who scheduled it never called me back about that... ironic since you kinda have to tell someone about that stuff. one can't show up if they are not notified. curious indeed(sarcasm). I just found out(NOT happy). Well, now I know when the next one is. I was also told something very important was different than what I wrote down as far as date is concerned. lets hope that is true. they are suspiciously eager to have this at the exact time I had the other thing written down for... before that it was a doctors appointment they wished me to move...  funny how that works... isn't it(more sarcasm)?

PSx2- how do you "leave a message about it" for someone who has no way for you to leave messages? with all due respect... my answering machine bit the bucket months ago. They know I am usually back by a curtain time. I have made sure they knew over and over again. You know what is "REALLY funny"(sarcasm again)? My "memory" is in question but they can't even remember that very simple concept... unless of course they just "think" they left a message(a jab at the things said). they have my phone number. it hasn't changed. "may have just called the wrong number" yet it is forgotten that I am not that stupid. If they had the wrong number... how am I being contacted on the right one? oh the excuses are irksome... if only I could do something about it.   I want to do something about it.

03-05-2012

   As much beef as my biological family gets on here about the past and whatnot, it should be noted that the only family member I have in the area is my grandfather. I don't ask him for help financially and if I can help it, I don't ask period.

   Last night I got sick as a dog, it hit me quick. I am bringing down a fever and trying not to spend every moment over the toilet. It is bad enough that I can't walk very far(I have managed taking care of the kids while like this I might add-everybody gets sick sometime)... and to be honest, if I puke I would rather it not be on some poor unsuspecting stranger.

   I do not usually get this sick. It hit while I am having serious cramps(something I didn't get until after I had kids-and they are bad-I have no midol) on top of it... to put it bluntly, it hurts. I am in pain. I am sick. while I get sick often, it is usually little stuff that I can deal with. In a work environment I could wear a mask if need be so I don't get others sick.

   In short, when it rains it pours.

   Now, when I do ask for help it usually comes with him giving me crap, and sometimes the answer is no.

   Their have been plenty of times he has helped. their was this time I got lost trying to get to this lady who claimed she was a lawyer who wanted to help(she turned out to be lying BTW-met her late along with her little blond lackey who asked obscenely stupid questions and re asked when she didn't get the answers she wanted--- who the hell asks someone who isn't pregnant HOW they "got pregnant this time"?! UG! I miscarried months ago, over 6 months ago... almost 7 months ago actually-doesn't make it easier though and to be frank that type of questioning screws with your head-congratulations whoever that person is. you screwed with a grieving mothers head in regards to a child she will never get to hold-yeah, I cry over stuff like that- yeah, I may forgive one day but I never forget-that was just cruel-I went home and was double checking for months-way to extend the grieving process by giving illogical hope that someone dead could be alive-bitch-for those wondering, yes the child was related to my husband, my ex roommate listened to the conception wouldn't you know it?-that bitch kept on talking to me like I don't know how babies are made! does she want a biology lesson or does she expect that I don't know that too?).

   Anyway... (insert) area aside... yeah, as you can tell that still bothers me. It took me months to get myself to accept that she was just being stupid. she probably saw the muscle spasms I had been getting from stress. I would have thought the fact my arm's and legs were doing the same spams would have clued her in but she wasn't listening. Stress, worry... you bet your ass they effect me and my health. The right level of it effects anyone. But when someone has a tunnel thought process(think tunnel vision) and isn't listening to a word you say and is talking to you like your stupid and is asking you further, stupid question... opening wounds still painfully fresh might I add... That kind of ticks me off. I have days of venting in my diary from that time. I am still not over the cruelty of it.

   The point of this blog was to point out something completely different. Today my grandfather is helping me get to my appointment. I have no choice but to go to this appointment, the consequences if I do not are not a choice, they are worse than a death sentence to me. Now he was grumpy, accusatory and all that nice stuff... he also hadn't had his coffee yet. He is not a morning person, my mother was not a morning person, and I am not a morning person. I got him before coffee. Growing up we had rules about that. "If you want to live, wait until after the first cup. If you want to live pleasantly, wait until the second or third."

   Anyway, when I went to go meet her, I got lost. I took the train(light-rail) and somehow ended up in mesa on the last train. My grandfather came and got me. I am notorious for getting lost when going somewhere I have never been before. I even had a friend try to take me later. because NONE of us had ever been their... none of us could find it.

   The point being. We don't talk much, we barely get along at times(avoiding talking about the past is the only way we can coexist so we both avoid such) but... despite everything i forgave him years ago. that doesn't mean it doesn't still hurt. it just means I forgave him.

   Despite everything, I just got him before coffee and lived. He is making sure I get to that appointment. That has to count for something.

   If I lived by the past and that alone... their are many things I would miss in life.

Learn from the past, but don't live in it.

While that statement is hard when you brain is constantly throwing you into it... it is possible. all you have to do is realize the difference between a memory and what is right before your eyes... when you want to do that with your whole heart... that is when you can do so. That is how I managed to stop physical out-lashes years ago. That is how i still do not have them when someone "decides" to cross the line and smack my back(they call it patting... well it hurts and I told them not to do it-asked nicely, some while ago it would have resulted in an automatic response from me). It isn't easy. Not everyone can do it, even if their whole heart is in it... perhaps it is because I am so used to dealing with it but... while the mind remembers and the heart carries the scars...

To let go does not mean forgetting or not feeling. To forgive does not mean you stop remembering or that it doesn't hurt anymore.

   It means you hold no ill will for them and are willing to move forward regardless. It means you accept that though you still feel it, and though you still remember it... it is in the past. The experience is still part of you, you simply resolve to carry it a different way.

You let the wounds on your heart close and become scars instead of festering. You let a memory become just a memory rather than something you purposefully dwell on and use as an excuse not to live in the now. Your ground yourself to the present and strive for a future that is not like the things tht scar your heart.

   Their will be things that re open old wounds on your heart, make them not scars anymore but fresh and jagged things that need mending all over again. so you do it, all over again... because they are in the past and to feel and remember and to have that is what it means to be a living breathing being of creation.

it is what makes people people.

that is how I see things.

-Luna

PS: Their is a difference between forgiveness and stupidity. To forgive someone when it is not past but still present and possible future is folly. Those whose husbands or loved ones abuse you, you do not have to forgive them the way they wish to be forgiven. that is not forgiveness, that is a harm unto yourself and surrendering to acts of hatred done on you. I told my children "people who love you don't do that." I doubt they will remember it, but right after what happened in front of them(even if only once) I had to make sure they knew that was not OK. I had to further show them that by getting him out. If i had let it continue it would have countered my words.

03-04-2012

 I will be blunt. I drew this while I was in high school, before family made me give up my dreams. They didn't need a lie to get me in... but now that I am hearing that employers and whatnot will see it badly.... I am wondering about my decision.

Downside to weight loss

The heater is on and the temp says it is fine... but I am freezing my ass off!

I am covered in blankets and freezing my ass off.

I have checked my temp and all possibilities otherwise.

I have checked to make sure it is actually me being cold and not just thinking I am cold(because years of mental health system have made me check, after awhile you wonder).

My hands are like ice. I am actually cold.

.......

hot ramen and hot coco.

blankets

my heater...

so far only the ramen and coco seem to make much difference.

I would hate to know what would happen if it was really a cold temp in here.

My youngest got his easily influenced temperature from me.

I have been losing weight and therefore "insulation".

For those who lose weight or are looking to lose weight, invest in a heater.

I live in the desert and my ass is about frozen. Think of those who live in less warm climates.

I even turned up the heater.

Make a note. to every side of the fence is a downside. those with the insulation are warmer. those who do not have as much are not so warm... but are incidentally cooler come summer.

because I lost so much in such a short time... my body hasn't adjusted to the change. I suppose in time I will either get used to it, my body will adjust, or I will simply put-invest in more blankets and turn the heater up higher.

for now, I have to deal with it. it is sometimes worse than others. incidentally when I wake up from sleep I am fine. I have always been like that though.

*still cold*

hm... time to turn it up again.

Incidentally, I should note I used to enjoy the heat at times growing up. when I was put on a medication that made me gain weight no matter what I did(I even starved myself and tried puking), I didn't lose weight.

Now I just eat the way I should(healthy), and exercise normally. Been dropping the pounds. I never told my husband(or anyone that I know of really) about the heat thing(enjoying it when I was a kid, I did tell him about the thing where I once handled cold really well... but that was from practice-I learned to ignore it-not practiced anymore!)... I am a bit "cold blooded"... my emotions are not the only thing sensitive about me. the downside is I am also sensitive to heat and cold(brr). As long as I drink plenty of water I am typically fine though. the bright side is this probably means I can handle more of the heat aspect of summer now.

The downside... I am FREEZING MY ASS OFF right now.

thank you

I hope this blog was amusing

have a nice day

-Luna

03-02-2012 ~ 03-03-2012

Art.

I have been putting it on my Facebook.

I put it on a friend setting that makes them not public.

I may place some on my deviant account.

I found an old poetry book of mine.

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The sites I am using for Spanish are:

http://www.spanishdict.com    &    http://www.livemocha.com

Why do foods have "masculine and feminine? it is fascinating and very much a moment where you kinda just sit their with a question mark on your face... don't think about it. a head ache will ensue.

My french and Japanese is really just me looking up random words at this point as Spanish is my chief concern(the area I live in makes it so). My sign language I just need to brush up on my vocab after a few years not really using it. I took that class for 2 and a half years.

The sites tend to differ on different ways of saying things. I just figure to learn how to understand all the different ways and just observe how people speak to try and pick that up.

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In high school I was labeled as having a learning disability. The first diagnosis my grandmother dragged me through with was depressive bipolar. The first time a psychiatrist in my adult life brought up asbergers I freaked. I remembered this case manager when I was a kid screaming in the parking lot. "You don't have it! You can't have it! you are a sweet child! You are not a monster like them! Those children feel nothing!"

She was wrong. It took me years to be able to hear the name of it without cringing and remembering. I had already long breached puberty, I can also attest that it is not a complete lack of feeling. it is merely all or nothing. at least... it was for me. I cannot hide my feelings as I once thought I could. I have seen the old pictures.. it is obvious. I was absolutely miserable. As far as that front, all the medications did was make it easier for me to ignore that my misery was obvious. my misery had nothing to do with chemicals and stupid stuff like "deep and buried issues". I didn't need therapy or medications. I needed my family to be my family. I needed someone to step in and get the the hell out of their. I needed to not have hugs be so strange that the only time I got them was with some people at church. sure it was uncomfortable but... I am almost sure I would have forgotten what  hug felt like if they hadn't. not everyone at that church was bad. I met some of the most evil people in church, some of the greatest too. That is one reason I don't go to them though. I do not want them to reject me. I have lost friends and had complete strangers treat me less than well over religion. those who were nice and were like that to me, are still in my heart. I do not want to face their rejection. I went home to no home. My heart had fled that place long ago. Hands that could not show love but could ooz hateful actions were what I went home to. makes me think of this song I have heard with the phrase "hell is a place called home" in the song the person runs away. I couldn't even do that. the police would just take me back and telling what was happening would just make them either scoff(I never specified "what kind of abuse" so I stopped running and just resigned myself, I gave up)... no matter their reactions it always ended up with me back in that place. Their are those who would have swore(and probably still would) that my grandmother was not like that. I went to a pastor for help... nothing ever came of it. "spar the rod, spoil the child" and "you must deserve it" "you must need it"... by the time we had another pastor I was too afraid to tell him. he was nice. I used to close my eyes and imagine what it would be like if I had a family... a real family who knew what being a family meant. I sometimes had this guilty thing... where I would imagine if he had been my grandfather instead of mine. I think that would have changed much. I doubt he would have allowed that to happen to his family. then again, it was just a child's fantasy. I used to imagine the older man who hugged me every week as some weird uncle who could lighten a room and make everyone laugh. He was like peter pan with wrinkles. for the record, he never touched me inappropriately. I think he just noticed I needed a hug... he never liked anyone to be suffering and did his best to cheer anyone upset up. so I used to imagine. I used to imagine if this lady(their were two of those, one of them I imagined if I had been born with them instead but then I felt guilty for betraying my mother and siblings that way) with her daughters had really been my aunt instead of mine... if her daughters were my cousins. It was stupid but... I doubt either woman would have left me like my own aunt did. hand prints do not come from chairs that "miraculously" make their way into the center of the hallway while I am exiting my room(she used to move the furniture so I would run into it-most marks however, were not from that).

It was a child's fantasy. To me... I feel stupid because even this family member I have never met I have begun to think of with family terms. To me... family is not something that is done over the internet... but they don't even live in this country! It isn't like they could do anything. It isn't like... and besides, they were related to my grandmother. I am too afraid to approach blood family. the only one I really do is that one and my brother. I have lightly spoken with a younger cousin but I avoid too much interaction... an uncle by marriage but it is because he is my brothers father by adoption and is worried for him. I feel horrible for assuming my brother worries over me. His actions have shown not. I feel like a horrible person. He got everything I ever wanted both before and after our mother died and if he was in trouble of any kind... they would not hesitate to help him where he is. That makes them true family. they annoy each-other and worry over one another and even when one is being a butt headed idiot he could still go back home and ask for help and get it regardless... because that is family.

I am the outsider. When I have in the past needed help, this uncle... I don't know if he knew(probably not-he was in another state and I don't think my aunt would have exactly jumped to tell him) but my aunt did know. My uncle seems too... he worries over everything when it comes to my brother. I doubt she ever told him. After a few minutes she just expressed that I was a brat and should have "walked around the chair". I did act differently while she was down though. I was thoroughly confused. I received a hug from my grandmother and she was careful not to leave marks so much and... I actually got  a choice in something too. when I tried to tell my aunt I doubt she ever realized she said the same thing she did years later... "Carolynn is a liar! Mom would never do that!" usually it reverted to "your mother", "my sister"... her name wasn't typical. can you tell I tried several times? she swore after that conversation as an adult she couldn't remember it. I had been in tears. I tried not to flat out start balling while on the phone but sniffed and therefore gave myself away. "knock of the crocodile tears you attention seeking whore!" I don't care to continue quoting what came after, but it made me doubt that she even knew what she was saying anymore.

I heard some things over the years to know enough. I think she needs therapy.... my aunt... her mother wasn't exactly nurturing and keeping things up above the surface. I mean, i got hurt for showing anger once, "don't you clench your teeth at me young lady!" and it didn't matter if you tried to hide your reaction either, she would watch my jaw and my hands had better not have been in my pockets. Then, even if they were not clenched or "fisted" you still got punished for it.

I am the type of person who's every thought and emotion plays across my face. I am not able to stay attached and hide how I feel. I have two settings, no in between.

When I am mad I show it, but I am not violent(the thought actually horrifies me). I don't think about it, it shows on my face, I grip some sort of object or whatnot tighter, the tone of my voice changes. No matter how hard I try I have not been able to change this. When I think of something funny I smile and sometimes I can't keep in the laughs. I know deep motions and the less deep ones that do not anchor to stay. I know love. that one never leaves, though it puzzles me how hate is slippery and refuses to stay in my heart. Am I not supposed to be able to hate as deeply as anybody else? to love, all other things are fleeting.

Everything in my environment and in my life effects me and my emotions easily. I am able to stop myself from crying, to not laugh when I want to, to not scream when it is all I want to do. I am unable though, no matter how hard I try, to keep my face from being anything but an open book without completely detaching. I cannot detach to something that has not hurt me. I do not want to be hurt.

My feelings are too sensitive, I keep them as to myself as I can. To plainly display them is not acceptable but I can only do so much.

My "learning disability" doesn't exist without medications... yet in some form it may. When emotionally upset, their are times I must step back and do things later. To place me in a learning environment online was the best thing I could do. while I am experienced handling high stress situations... I have anxiety and ptsd. I have been hurt. I have been told that telling anyone anything "wrong" will not be listened to, that I cannot tell when I cannot do something. not being able to do it is unacceptable. I am in conflict. I know I cannot but I keep trying to make myself anyway. That is how I grew up. My inability is unacceptable. It will only show I am unable in other areas and such impressions are apparently important.

After that incident where asbergers was brought up in regards to me in my adult life... where he made the suggestion, I screamed "I am not a monster!" .... my friend Artemis used to say "I am a monster" but could never really give any reason why, she simply grew up hearing it apparently. not just in words, but in actions too. I emidietally remembered my aunt and that lady and everything previously mentioned and hated myself for echoing such things. After I had time to think and go over my reaction I went in next time wishing to bring it up and he said "unless you admit to hearing or seeing things not otherwise their, you will never be acknowledged as being autistic as long as you are here", I brought it up again and he asked "do you see or hear anything not their?" "no" "then you don't have it. if you did, they could not treat you here. they are not certified to handle it here."

out of what was said, I do not know what is truth and what is lie but later when I met one psychiatrist(after this all started about six months ago) I told him "you know I have autism right?" his expression on his face and body language, the tone of his voice... that was all I needed to know. He met the expression "guilty as sin" "kid with a hand in the cookie jar" I mean... if that wasn't why then I want to know why. this guy was a complete dick head who tried to get me to, in detail, re hash every rape I have ever been through. he wanted DETAILS. I didn't wanna talk about it. This guys baited me just like my grandmother, nit picked my body language and "tone".

If I am autistic then I am what they consider "high functioning".

Here is something I do not understand. I have met parents who are autistic and have families, single parents as well who do. Yet... when I look online their is a bunch of balloni about autism and how it is a huge hindrance so "great" that i needs to be cured and how these peopel will never function in society.

BULLSHIT!

For some that may be true but... many who are not "contributing members of society" today who also have autism, could have been. I am not talking about the ones rolling on the damn floor drooling(their are different degrees) but I have seen the treatment given to those who do have it high enough in functioning to live a pretty much "normal" life hindered because of how things are run.

To be honest... most of my life people have searched for something "wrong" with me.

It is so bad that apparently my entire life can be torn apart by a false accusation... and I am not allowed to choose anything but "wave".... if I do the consequences have been said will be rather large. the last one to tell me just told me it wouldn't matter what was said. the judge wouldn't care.

I will be waiting to be yelled at this time. the last one to tell me relayed how this judge was like that. you take what is deemed "too long" or take actions she sees as "don't care enough" or whatnot... she yells at you. I know what to expect here. My frustration is not enough and I will be treated as a person who simply "lacks understanding". No. I understand but... my inability to do something I know they will see as simple frustrates me. If I say that though... someone, somewhere will use that. In the beginning I was told to shut up and pretend I had no problems. "stop giving us ammo to use against you". it was confusing then and it is now. it doesn't stop me form doing what was being talked about and in fact I don't think they understand. I do.

Their is much that is confusing and frustrating... but it is not what they have deemed what I need to understand. I want to understand why something that should not have happened has. an answer hat is not the truth isn't the answer to the question. I want to know the truth. I want to know why when I dispute things or ask for help I am simply told to "wait it out" or some other stupid direction. I want to know why I was told their was "nothing" I could do when their was and only told of what was after it wasn't able to be done anymore.

I am frustrated, worried, and somehow handling it alone.

My husband just "rescheduled" his picking up of his things(he didn't use his one time pick up with the police officer-he is supposed to have one come out with him-I don't know the laws for that). I figured that would happen.

I have not had the restraining order against my husband modified. Every time I start to go in the direction of the courthouse to do so I freeze up, I can't move. I just stand their, the idea itself petrifying me to the spot.

The same thing happens when I go to do the thing they want me to do. I can't do it.

I keep on imaging sitting their with the lady asking "what have you done?" "what have you accomplished?" "if you can't even do this, how can you expect me to think you can do other things?"

I bet they think I just don't want to. I am afraid that if I say this to them that they will turn those words on me and say that just because I want to be what is discussed doesn't mean I can be and use that to decide things. I am petrified.

In emotionally straining situations such as this, I do not adapt well. many "behaviors" I had been taught to keep down as low as possible come out clearly. My mother taught me how to understand the things I need to survive. I was taught to think like the nights code of conduct, it was used as an example... because I didn't understand some things and that was the tool I needed in order to understand and have the thought process to understand later.

because of how my mother taught me I do not understand this "cure" thing.

some children think differently and need different methods. a mother should look at her child and see her child, nobodies face or even how society may view them. a mother is a mother. for all her flaws, even my mother knew that.   school and simple observations of the world will teach them predigest and all that "fun" stuff. As a mother, your job is to give your children the tools to be better both now and later and to be understanding in who they are but firm in what is right and wrong. sometimes it isn't easy(I know I hate it when mine throws tantrums, I listen carefully and if the tantrum ends and becomes anything even remotely emotionally despairing I pick him up and give him a hug, he is 2. time out is not as important as letting him know I love him. while discipline is important... if I do not show him he is loved and accepted it could do damage later on as well as now. the damage done while you are a child doesn't go away and the things you are taught so young are remembered. sometimes it is hard. I do not want to teach my children that temper tantrums are acceptable... but when the cries turn from that I couldn't hold back if I wanted to.

As a parent their are times to remain firm and times to give a little.

Is that supposed to be some monumental thing to understand? Am I not supposed to listen and discern when is right to give and when is not based on my child's reactions as an individual?

I have two boys. I do not want to place them in a box, lump them together in everything. I want them to know that I love them both equally. when one needs more of one thing or the other another, I will give it and have. still... it doesn't stop me from worrying if they have enough or too much. I do not only worry for physical but emotional as well. I am their mother. I love them. I do not want emotional strife to come from me. I pay close attention and do my best. I put my chidlren first and nit pick myself at every turn and in fact only call it nit picking when others do it.

these are things i have been told in the past. "you are a good mom." for doing. To me, it is doing what I should and being how I should be for them... while the praise was very much appreciated... I must confess that I am guilty of thinking it not priority. it was nice but... it was words. my rewards lay in having healthy and happy children who have what they need... so pardon me if the things I do NOT understand offend you.

I am not sure anybody understands the things I do not understand. I am not sure anyone would take a lie as a "reason" and I sure as hell know several people who would have already decked someone at least a few times already... very mild tempered people too... merely on the principle. their is only so many times you can explain your understanding only to have it thrown back in your face with "I don't think you understand" before you have to picture obscenely graffic depictions in your imaginations(so the years on medications gave me ideas... never ask me to describe what goes on in my head when I am angry-all that matters is that the response is not destructive in any manner nor is it simply bottled up to burst later or become your own harm or that to another-imagination can help with such things... like imaging a dragon doing horrible things in graphic details while she screams in bitter agony-because I understand that imagination land is imagination land and in fact not reality, I also understand that in reality to wish anything of the kind would be bad and evil... in imagination land I lash out in imagination land and keep my outwards interactions acceptable-I don't often need to use imagination land for such purpose as I do not become angry easily but when I do).

After awhile of sitting their being told nothing with this stupid bitch telling you you can't do anything and the ONLY response she has to anything you say is "I don't think you understand" and makes no effort to do anything BUT tell you you don't understand while sitting their with her own lack of intellect and incompetence and way too much naivety(I suspect gullibility as well-the type of personality she has-it is typical-I would know, we are similar in more than one way-besides, I feel sorry for her-probably why I can't hold onto any hate for her-I pity her too damn much... "the road to hell is paved with good intentions"-It also seems paved with half assed work and fraudulent paperwork... but I pity her) for the job she does. Their is only so much you can sit before someone explaining something when they do not want to hear it. their is only so much you can hear jabs about "mentally ill" before you have to learn SOME way to hold your hands and still your anger.

Everyone feels anger. everyone feels a variety of emotions. I beat up three of my bullies when I was in the first or second grade(my brother was still in the kindergarten play yard but I don't remember if they housed first graders as well, I only know what yard he played in and came from to get me). these kids were much older than me. I had started to develop. My body had JUST started to shape(I only knew cuz moms boyfriend kept on referencing it), 3 of them. I was being held against the wall off the ground by my neck. in my head I kept on running through what papa said. "It isn't nice to beat up people just because they are too stupid to realize underestimating someone smaller than them is the stupidest mistake they could make." I was about to just kick them all in the balls and be done with it before running to an adult. simple enough. My brother came over form the play yard over. some kids were picking on him again and as his older sister I usually glared down the younger bullies for him, if they had their "older" siblings bullying him I took care of it. I never through the first punch and always tried to keep damage minimal just like papa taught me when I was little. either way, to allow my brother to come to harm was unacceptable. If that was the only thing they would listen to I wasn't going to allow it. I tried once and my brother ended up being beat up at school rather badly. so while I never enjoyed showing them what I was made of when it came to protecting my brother-I also didn't hesitate.

This became an instance where these 3 boys met that at it's worst possible time in the worst possible way. I had been planning to only knee them in the nuts and run for help. My little brother came over to get help from me for a bully. He saw me. He saw them. He asked what they were doing and wondered aloud why I let them. They saw him. These boys were bigger than me by a long ways. My little brother was smaller than me, build smaller. I took care of him when nobody else would or could. I honestly confess their were times the line between sister and mother was a bit blurred. when mama had been at work people who took care of us like they were supposed to(she paid them) were rare. I usually had to uptake such tasks. it is not surprising then that when my little brother was in trouble I snapped.

Everything my papa taught me about not fighting those weaker than you went out the window. The day he died flew through my head, what they did to me while he had to watch wouldn't stop replaying.

Would they do that to him and make me watch?

By the time I realized I had lost myself in the past while beating the tar out of them my brother was starring at me like he had never seen me before. He was afraid. I hated it. I told him to go back to his playground and if they asked him about it to say he wasn't their and knew nothing. I was afraid I had hurt them overly badly. I wasn't thinking, I was just getting my brother out of their before a teacher saw and he got in trouble too.

I got in trouble for it. I do not know to this day what I exactly did to them in full(I do remember I had gotten their groins multiple times) but... I do know. Whatever it was the school quickly placed me in anger management classes. Dumbasses. they really expected me to not protect my brother? I told them later why but after seeing what happened he did what i told him. I think it hurt more that I scared him like that than the fact that I got in trouble... though mom knew I told the truth. she asked us later. you didn't lie to mom. mom knew. she also confronted us on it, nobody got hurt as my mom wasn't violent but... I got an ice cream cone and made to promise not to do it again. I never told her what I was lost in... only described brief parts of it.

If I hadn't of gotten between my husbands hand and our child... imagine then what I would have done to him.

Then again I am also not so sure. With my brother I wanted him to see strength. for him to witness anything else was unacceptable because he would try to help and get hurt too(I took many beating for him). with my kids... the idea of them seeing me beat the tar out of someone... the idea of them looking at me how my brother did that day... knowing what violence did to me and how much it hurt to witness... the idea repulses me. it is unacceptable.

I may joke about times like that but to me, I carry that incident and the lesson learned with me even still.

It may have been in defense of my brother... but that was the moment I decided I wasn't going to be a navy seal anymore. I had still wanted it, but even after seeing my dad die I still didn't grasp the concept of what it meant to kill someone with your own hands... to inflict such on another.

I didn't care what they did anymore. I could have killed them. I didn't but... the weight of what it truly meant and what I could have made my brother witness... what I could have done. I was about 6 or 7 years old. I would have rather spent my time climbing in a tree to put a bird back in it's nest or pretending I was an archeologist or could fly on the swing... slipping saved lunch items to a local stray through the fence... that kind of thing. I never liked violence. Seeing anyone hurt made me want to help, seeing injustice, made me want to help... and if being beaten kept my brother from being beaten or hurt I took it because it hurt less to be hurt than to have another be hurt. That is the type of person I have always been. In that moment I gave up my dream because the means did not, in my mind and in my heart, justify the end. Life is too precious to me.

I was a kid. by all means I shouldn't have been going through that. people seem to expect kids to be stupid.

People seem to expect me to be stupid.

When I was a child I drew myself as an adult. I frightened my mother by my maturity yet she never made me act like anything but myself. for all her mistakes... that wasn't one of them. my grandmother hated it, wanted to ignore it, contributed to furthering it.

I am an adult. When I was a child I got along better with old ladies and olde people than kids my own age. I wasn't anti social. I just understood things they did not. I was afraid they would understand it as well if I got too close. I was afraid my grandmother would hurt them or have someone else hurt them.

later on  in life a rip tide took me out while we were on a rare trip to visit relatives.

I was pulled under many times and my cousins boogie board is probably all that kept me alive and able to find the surface of the water. I was taken so far at one point that the horizon interrupted just a tiny bit was the only reason I knew where the beach was. I was not a strong swimmer. I had never had much practice. I had been staying in the shallows because of that fact, mostly in the waves. I had been out where I was because I wanted to be with my cousin. My cousin let me use his boogie board. I was trying to use it to learn how to become a better swimmer. I wanted to be able to tread water better so I could be out where they were. I wanted to know my cousin better. I hanging out in that area would help and make him not mad when the adults wanted him to stay back with me... then I was determined to improve so he wouldn't be mad at me.

I got caught. I was told to swim back and then ignored and expected to do so. They thought i was just playing. My cousin was very adamant about the boogie boards well being. I felt guilty for pulling on the string while I was out their. It helped me fin the surface when i went under... but he had told me not to so I was worried he would get mad at me. I will probably seem stupid to many but... I was a kid. Kids who grow up too fast do not stop being kids. they are grown up kids but... still something in them is still a kid.

I had gotten really scared. I got to the point I thought I was going to die. It crossed my mind my cousin would miss his boogie board. probably not the smartest thing to have cross my mind. it may seem stupid but he emphasized that boogie board as important. I didn't want to disappoint him by losing it. I hoped that if I didn't make it back, he got his boogie board back. I didn't want him to be mad at me.

I imagined everyone's reactions. grandmother wouldn't cry, grandfather would just live in denial of everything and detach himself while keeping up appearance for others next to grandmother. I didn't know any of them well so I couldn't imagine their reactions. an image of my mothers brother getting his boat and looking for me crossed my mind but I threw it out. if they cared, they would have checked on me more and kept an eye on how my grandmother cared for me. It wasn't like a big family secret that she had issues.. especially not if my aunt's reactions were anything to go by.

I had a big family but I knew none of them. My parents were not alive and I didn't know my dad's family. I was just going to be sent back with grandmother if I lived... and I didn't like my brothers life being held over my head saying she would make auntie kill him if I screamed. I didn't like the things I was made to do. I didn't quite understand exactly how bad they actually were but I did know they were wrong. I knew they were dirty and bad things.

I contemplated letting go and just falling beneath the water. That is where I wanted to go when I died after all.

I was about to let go when I remembered something my brother told me. he was afraid auntie was going to die like mama. he kept on picturing her like mama... he saw her fall and saw what that man did. he said when he saw me he pictured the same thing. he didn't want anyone else to die. I think it was a rather weak reason. perhaps I was just too cowardly to die, grandmother always said so.

A reason was a reason though and I only needed one. For that one special person in my heart who might cry and feel hurt for my passing, I wanted to come back. I pictured what would happen if I layed on the beach in the same position we saw mama... I pictured what would happen if I never washed up to shore at all.

Would I be a ghost? Would I go where horrible little girls went like grandmother said? Would I go to mama and papa? Would I become a fish or a seal like i would so often dream? Would I go to the moon?

I always had wondered. Even those who said they were sure showed so much doubt.

I went away for awhile, wasn't concious... the lady in my dream looked like me but also did not, she was standing by the sea in a cloak begging the sea to return a little boy who was lost in the waters. The child was her own. The lady even begged that should the child be returned alive her own life be taken, even her very spirit as the price. The pain of this boy's life ending so soon, the crime of such, was worth her very souls essence and she believed this with every fiber of her being. The price was not taken but the wish was granted, the little boy was found after 3 days of her doing this. She neither ate nor slept and continued her vigil. He was alive. I felt in the dram that the boy shouldn't have even been out their in the first place... like it was wrong to begin with.

I do not know why I had that dream. It was weird... but I did. she called out a name when looking to the sea, the name of the sea, and the name clicked and I came back. I was open in some way I did not understand yet didn't need to. I called out that same name with my mind and my heart. I was too tired to even speak. I had tried. I was hungry, tired, scared, and very thirsty. I didn't think I had been out their too long but it seemed like it. I felt something brush up against me. It felt scaly and rough. At first, my very vision went white in fear. I thought about jelly fish and looked around. I loved the sea but had feared it ever since I was very little. My biggest fear was sharks. Whatever it was kept on brushing up against me like lalune used to when she wanted me to go some direction or encourage me. it was weird. I decided if it was a shark I would already be eaten and therefore my fear and feeling it could eat me was illogical... just like that dream and feeling it was important. It kept on pushing me and soon their was more than one. I knew where hey were, another illogical feat. No way was their any logic. The only way that could happen on nay logical level is i base instincts were telling me a predator was near and if one was near, I was pretty sure I would already be in their stomach.

Besides... the noodles and pushes and all the times they brushed up against me were so light... a shark wouldn't be so careful not to damage it's food. I thought on the brief possibility it could be a wale or a dolphin. Dolphins are smooth and very playful. The thought itself made me uneasy anyway, like whatever it was wouldn't like that so much. A wale then? That made me less pleased with the prospect though i had no idea why. I redirected my thoughts and just thought a silent thanks to whatever creature was helping me back to my brother. I was close enough people were the sizes of ants and i felt anxious. I was kicking and trying to make things go faster and I saw this figure standing on the beach. I don't know why but I waved and the figure moved quickly before rushing into the water.

I was pushed again and when I got closer to the figure enough to see it was a lady they stopped nudging me but I knew they were still close by. I felt we needed to get out of the water soon. I don't think whatever it was liked her much, not sure why.

She got me out of the water, back to shore. She asked me questions and found out how far I had been out. I told her some but kept most of it to myself. I didn't want to be called crazy. Grandmother did that enough. "just like your mother" she would say.

My mama wasn't crazy. weird things happened to her too. The happened to grandmother as well but she mostly ignored them, rarely did she pay attention. When cabinets acted like cabinets were not supposed to and things physically started to go awry... then she paid attention. She used to pay attention but stopped. I don't know why. Ignoring something doesn't make it go away.

The lady kept on asking me questions and then she whispered one phrase that I had heard before. "You are a natural." The lady who died in the flames had said the same. She said she "saw" it. I was just happy someone wasn't hurting me or trying to change me. She knew the pills made me see things and knew I had learned to close my awareness like grandmother. The blue star, third eye... I hated mine. I had nobody to share it with and if I spoke of it, it would have yielded disastrous results. Simpler just to keep it closed and pretend it didn't exist. She called it those things. I just called it a part of myself I had to hide because grandmother would have people kill me like papa if I didn't and the pastor would use that as another excuse to hurt me. I didn't want another reason to be less than human in someones eyes.

This woman was like that lady. I was a person to her and she argued very loudly with my grandmother for my rights to choose my own path. She screamed at her, told her if she already knew why didn't she let me do what she knew I wanted and wished.

Shortly after being pulled out of the water, I gave my cousin his boogie board back and apologized for pulling on the string like he told me not to. I was very sorry. I didn't tell him it saved my life. I didn't want him to be mad. He wasn't happy with me and I was already taught that if you were in danger it was your own fault. I was still trying to figure out how it was my fault. I had only wanted to pretend I was actually part of a loving family for awhile. I wanted to pretend my cousin was an older brother and I was the younger sibling who was protected and allowed to be weak for a little while. I wanted to pretend things were not horribly wrong at home. I wanted to pretend I had a home that felt like home. Even when I was little I pretended to myself he was some older brother figure. I even told mom I wanted him to be my older brother. She explained that I wouldn't have my brother as my little brother then but I wanted both. I wasn't willing to give up my little brother for the world(even though he destroyed my toys) but I don't think mama understood. My cousin was strong, fun, and always made sure I was safe when I was over their. Even if it was something stupid that I was used to avoiding... I didn't have to because my big cousin was overprotective. I liked being protected for  a change. Mama got grandfathers ability to turn a blind eye. Brothers papa wasn't very nice. I kept my brother safe and took care of him when mama was at work and left us with him. He didn't take care of us so i had to. I don't think I did a good job. I couldn't reach high things and got hurt more than once but... I did it.

My cousin was big, strong, and made sure things were safe. I was pretty sure he was also tall enough to not have to climb to get the peanut butter like I did when we had peanut butter and jelly while mama wasn't home to make it. I was also pretty sure that he was strong enough to protect both himself and the person he was protecting. Protecting someone and taking a beating for them cuz your not strong enough to protect both of you is not a nice experience.

He reminded me of papa a bit too. He didn't have the shadows in his eyes though. He still had the light of being a kid... though he always seemed a bit older to me, never found out why though.

So when I was older I wanted to know my cousin better and we only had a little while. My brother was more interested in playing with his friends anyway. He didn't need me and I wasn't jealous... OK maybe I was. His friends always got him, I didn't.

I wanted a family. Being related by blood didn't make them my family in anything but name. I wanted to know them and be part of this family, not be the outsider looking in.

I wanted what was stolen from me back. I wanted to be able to laugh and play and be a kid who was taken care of instead of always taking care of everyone else. even when I was hurt I had to take care of grandmother. I always liked working in the church nursery, I didn't mind taking care of children. It always confuses me though. I liked taking care of the children but hated having to be strong and take care of adults.

Shouldn't it be one or the other? Why would I feel that way when I was shown I wasn't allowed?

So many questions and wishes that never got answered or came true.

I don't believe in hell, but I do believe if one exists...

Grandmother was the ruler.

She was the ruler of mine.

Why not that one too?

She did a good enough job at it, so why not?

Was their someone better?

Ah... the musings of a child.

Even now I wonder.

I grew up hearing how mama and papa conceived me while at sea.  My sign is a water sign. I love the sea but am also hopelessly afraid to venture too far into it. Someone I have known accused me of being a selkie. Kind of funny since i wanted to be a navy seal to begin with so I could swim and play in the water with the seals. A selkie is only an old Celtic legend. If I was a selkie I don't think I would fear the sea and I also don't think a shark would have saved me.

---------------------------------------------

Between the brackets is a rough section of my story. some is true and some is tweaked to try and fit it in a fantasy setting... though not much at this point. I have to sift through and sort it and add more fantasy. most of it is complete truth. In order to make something fantasy you have to add actual fantasy.

Someday I hope it gets published.

Please have a good day.

Laters

-Luna

spanish class

I have been taking Spanish... and I have been warned of my schools treachery to students(not the Spanish-that is actually free, the art school). I wonder what would be said if it was widely known I know... I have recorded phone calls. I just don't know what to do about it.

I was lied to to get me into the school. I am not stupid... but I found out too late. This is not the class I need for forensic art... but I will make the best of it. I wanted to go to this school when I was in high school but my family did not want me to be what I wanted to be. Out of duty I still do not go for what I wished for then... I feel a duty to somehow help... I feel responsible for the things my grandmother did. I was her helpless bait. I do not know if she ever let her husband see that side of her. I hold myself responsible for those I couldn't stop her from hurting. I wished it wasn't real. I didn't want it to be real. I wanted to live like my grandfather where she could do no wrong, to be like my aunt, able to ignore everything... content in silence or ignorance as my uncle(I never knew which he was-he is quiet)...  but the bait is never thus. I was the tool, the toy, the bait. I was whatever she wanted me to be. I hated it.

Here is my strength. I hope I translated it correctly.

My name is Luna. I am alive. I am from Arizona. I am many things in life. I am a mother. I am an artist. I do many things. I am everything I need to be, and when I am not... I learn to do, be, know what I need. I am who I am. I know who I am. Do you? 

Me llamo Luna. Estoy Viva. Yo soy Arizona. Soy muchas cosas de la vida. Soy una madre. Soy un artista. Hago muchas cosas. Yo soy todo lo que ser cuenando deba, y cuando no estoy... aprender a hacer, ser, saber lo debe. Yo soy quien soy. Yo se quien soy. Te?

when you get up in the morning... do you know who you are? 


I know who I am.


I am not the past.

I am not my grandmother.

I am not my mother.


I am me.


-Luna

repair nightmare

I was bathing(please note I look a mess and had to put dirty cloths back on), no music, not even water running(this was a BATH-anti stress for the fact doc appointments are not stress free for me).

the "refrigerator repair" man did not knock and in fact opened the door and asked "hello?"

My heart about flew up into my throat. When I asked him(after jumping out of the bath like a bat outta hell-I am still shaking BTW) "do you always do that?" he got pissed off and changed the "number" he claimed he knocked about 5 times... his last one was thirty, his first one was "twice" and his second one was 10, 4th was 5.... you get the idea.

so while I was typing this the manager showed up(I just call them both managers, man and wife).

Because I asked that question and refuse to go with his claim that he knocked... he refuses to fix my refrigerator. the manager's husband is the one who came with him. so the repair man tattled on ME for not going with that ridiculous story after HE barged in without knocking.

I do not share this logic and am in fact a bit confused about this. Why is it OK for him to do that, lie about it, and then refuse to fix my refrigerator over me asking about why he did it? I don't want to fight about it, I don't want to dispute it, I just wanted to know why... because I sure as hell know they are NOT supposed to do that.

that so defeated the point of all that work I did to get my nerves able to handle that place.

so yeah, looks like my freezer will continue to make this loud noise(it means it is being overworked BTW- I can't fix it, basically it is old... the motor will probably blow one of these days-well that's all I can think of anyway, could also just need service, either way obviously that isn't happening-refrigerator repair is not my thing... never learned and well... I can only guess form the experience of growing up and what it usually meant-I am not an expert and could be very wrong).

OMFG! I was hoping to do something with my day besides shake like a leaf!

If he ever reads this I have one thing to say. "Congratulations ass hole. You, a male, walked in without knocking, into the apartment of a woman who has Anxiety and PTSD." I will be jumpy for awhile.

let me highlight something. when I was sixteen years old(right after my birthday... it happened on the 22nd of march a little over a week after-I just say "I got raped for my birthday, it was years before I was able to handle having long hair again-hair obsessed perv) a man came in the back door and raped me. while the details were not actually given to the police in full(he was right, I was protecting someone-it wasn't the officers fault when it didn't get solved-I still don't know who they are though to this day, I was protecting she who set me up-she got paid for that-and BTW... yes, the person had been stalking me first-my grandmother told me to ignore it).

Lets not forget... the anniversary of that is coming up soon and I was trying NOT to focus on it.  Generally if something is going to happen and go wrong it happens in march. I hope this year is different. Lets have a GOOD month I was born in... for once.

ever since then when a door opens I have to remind myself where I am... while it has gotten easier... this will make me jumpy for awhile. *sigh* as if I needed that on top of everything else.

what a dick. After all that he wouldn't fix my refrigerator because I called him on it. I couldn't have NOT called him on it if I tried, anxiety... I don't think before i talk I just say it. it stops me from going into a panic thingy. while it was true, I generally consider what should and should not be said. it was easy to tell what "type" he was. even "I was told you wouldn't be here" would have been semi acceptable as I would have simply told him "well knock next time and make sure"... this will not work if it happens again because I know someone could read it and know it would... so just for the record, repair people should knock.

also, I had only been in the tub for about 5 minutes. I had just got in. I was in my living room before that. their was nobody their. lets recap, what  douche bag!

OK... I don't usually revert to flat out insulting people but... what else am I supposed to say at this point?

I am mad. I am still shaking. I am insulted and mortified. I wasn't even told when to expect someone to repair anything. they never tell me. they never tell me when someone will be on the roof, or anything of the kind.

If I had known I wouldn't have even been in the tub around then to begin with.

Great. Months of trying to get stuff fixed and it all goes out the window over this. You bet you ass I am frustrated!

Now excuse me while I go finish getting ready and take rush around my apartment looking for things to clean(cleaning is my "zen"-calms me, only ever tested it at home though-I just feel more comfortable with it).

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Had to add this, doesn't happen every day-that is for sure.

On my way to my appointment I nearly got run over while crossing(it had the "walk" signal up) the street. the guy wanted to turn and he apparently didn't realize I had intentions to cross.

On the way BACK I kept on having to pull my pants up and my shirt down(I got honked at-I think it was at me anyway, I hope it wasn't because my shirt rode up..)... my cloths don't fit right anymore. I lost weight. I fibbed in a way. I told the lady what my weight was at one point... never told her it had gone higher than that. I gained a LOT of weight with my first pregnancy. I excersized and was scolded by my husband(though we were not married at the time) back then about how I wasn't eating ENOUGH(the doctors assumed...)! I am not one to eat a ton. while I was pregnant.. well I never figured out why I gained so much so quick. by the end I could barely walk to the bathroom because of it. I got pregnant directly after and had no time to lose the weight. because I was a bit over before that(was still straightening my body out after weight damage was done by medication)... the doctor just kinda assumed and you know... it is REALLY annoying to explain that you are not only getting excersize but are actually ACTIVE but still gaining insane amounts of weight. I had good eating habits(except this Cheetos craving I had... but I was taking my vitamins, getting excersize, and otherwise eating healthy, even would limit myself the Cheetos... I mean they were poofy airy and I have no idea why I craved them!!!).

explanations aside... my oldest is now 2 and my youngest 1, both c-sections(I was going to try a v-back... that didn't work out so well, first was emergency c-section)... I was stunned today. I knew I had lost weight but... wow. rounding my top weight down and doing the math.... 47 pounds. I have not been dieting or doing anything special.  I just eat and excersize normally... like I always have. hell... in high school I enjoyed sneaking off to the gym after school(I was also proud of my crunches... never did find out how long I could go... but it was the entirety of pe class that I did them at one point... I won that one!!!)... while I was waiting for all those insanely long periods of time to be picked up after I did an after school activity... leg press was one of my favorites. my upper body has never been very good... my legs were pretty good... not my arms, never those... omg... and never ask me to bench press. that doesn't end well. I don't go to the gym now... but I do enjoy excersize. I about cried when I couldn't do it while pregnant. again, could barely walk at all. tried telling my doctor of the time... I gave up after the first couple times. he was pretty good for the most part. the fat assumption's kinda run deep in society.  I do not "schedule" excersize for myself... I just do it. to schedule means to pressure myself into it. If a person looks at it as an obligation and not some fun activity... it ends up being work instead of play(and for me that isn't good when it comes to this stuff-especially since I hate pain and the "burn" is pain-I do like how I sleep after though... sometimes if I get tired enough I don't dream-no dreaming means no nightmares).

I take care of myself and my body... so the weight loss has me wide eyed. doesn't seem like I have lost too much too fast.... especially since it was tough getting my body back up to speed after all that time of not being able(my muscles were not up to it so with my second I wasn't very active-so I lost massive amounts of ability to do much). I have been doing the same excersizes I learned strengthened muscles years ago after my surgery on my hip. I had to re learn how to walk after that one. wasn't fun. I spent awhile in a wheel chair... was anything but helpless... well minus the bully I had who kept grabbing the back and running me over peoples toes... BTW... why was logic to get mad at ME?!! I put on the breaks but they were not made to stop her apparently!

uh... so... back to the original thing... I almost got run over by a car today.

Today is the first day of march.

For years this month has not been my best. anyone see the possible foreshadowing from that?

I hope it isn't...  I want it to go better... I dont' like how things go in march for me... my birthday is in march, is it really so bad that I don't like how most everything bad happens in march? if everything is already to shit... I do NOT want it to get worse... I hope it goes differently this month... but if that incident was anything to go by...

*pouting*
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-Luna

03-01-2012

I have written some semi thing in my life as if from a character pov on deviant... just putting it out their as i realize I never let anyone know that is what it was.

My submission this time is... http://lunaartemisdiana.deviantart.com/art/Newborn-Guardian-288005403

If you like it, please let me know. I usually just post stuff to my Facebook, a link is on my deviant for that profile.

Please have a nice day, I have to get ready for my doctors appointment. ^^

-Luna

PS: it wasn't letting my upload to the blog otherwise I would just do so.