Great Big Crash

Hi There! Guess what? It's me!?
Coarse it is this my fucking blog site! Well shit went all to hell and I am pretty much going to the bottom to begin the climb again! Some stuff is really different this time, like I will for the first time have no real back up plan. Not a dime to my name, no car, no place to live, and only what I am wearing for clothes. Am I scared? Hell Yes! Completely terrified! But since I have been cattle-chuted in to my current choice... what's a girl to do? OK OK I am pretty much fucked, but who wants to live forever any ways!? So when this last bottle of Jose Cuervo Especial Silver and I finish dancing, my life and those who are affected by my life will know some radical changes have OCCURRED.    First of all a message to all you sexual predators out there!
YOU SICK FUCKS, YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE! WE THE VICTIMS ARE MAKINGS A STAND! THAT'S RIGHT YOU TWISTED AND FUCKED SCUM BAGS!!!SOME TIMES THEY COME BACK! THIS IS ONE OF THOSE TIMES, AND YOU HAD BEST BE PRAYING TO WHAT EVER GAWD YOU THINK YOU KNOW CAUSE JUSTICE HAS COME HOME FOR A FINALE STAND AND YOU HAVE NO HOPE.

Stand bye for further notice.

Torn to Bits

Here is a nice stick figure drawing of what my family looks like. No it's not that we are all skinny, and not that we are all fond of black clothing either. It is that we seem to be at war amongst ourselves all the time. There has never been a bloodier battle than the ones we have waged against each other. And it has gone on for generations.  I have a life time of scars to prove it. The only difference between this sketch and my family is that we use different weapons than they do. We kill with words. Ugly, black and wretched words. The sharpest in the English language. My sister's have even sharper tongues. They use them too!  I don't really know how a real family lives but this family lives on hate and destruction. And boy howdy can they do a job! As we speak I am just a slab of meat that's been butchard out and hung. I had a dream once that I would one day b ring all of them together in one space with love and that we would be a family again. YIKES! not a chance!

I Give Up

I am so tired, not the kind of tired that you can sleep and fix either. No, I am the kind of tired that simply says, "I Give Up!" I don't have anything left inside to fight for. I am a product of my environment, a loser. I have no value and no self esteem. I only bring grief and disappointment to those around me and I haven't got anything that anyone even wants any more. I have lost my way and in doing so I have lost my will.

I am not a mother nor was I ever. I let my kid down repeatedly through her whole life. I did to her what my mother did to me. I couldn't even see it. I never learned to be loyal to my family, so consequently, I wasn't there for my dad and my family when he was dying and asking for me. I moved so far away that I left my little sister to face the world alone with out my support or help.  I let 10 years pass by with out seeing 90% of my own blood family. I let my other sister move so far away that we can't help each other either.

Some how I let my BFF get so far away that our whole friendship seems like it was just a rare but good dream.

Last but not least I disrespect, abuse, neglect and mistreat my own boyfriend, and as a consequence he now hates me.

With all this, I give you the last thing I have, an apology.

I am sorry that I was not enough, that I was not smarter, or faster. I am so sorry that I hurt you and negatively affected your lives. I am sorry that I brought so much grief to all of you.

I know now what I have done and how much damage I have caused.

I also know that I can never change any of it, or take it back.

And I have nothing left inside to offer you all to ease the pain.

I really don't know what will happen to me or what I will do. I don't have any answers and I have run out of all the things that once kept me moving forward. I am to tired to try to find the sun. I am angry and bitter about my losses maybe so much so that it has cost me a good life. I may never know happiness. It seems hopelessly out of my reach.

Maybe it is my punishment for all the things I have done.

What I Know About Therapy

I was just a kid when I had my first therapy session. I don't even remember it. But I know it well because I have been in some type of therapy or counseling ever since. Some good some worthless. Some even caused more harm than good leaving me damaged further. Most folks have some vision of the whole therapy thing that might look a little like this: (Example)The Shrink's office was dimly lite and furni8shed with heavy dark furniture. I laid down on a couch opposite of Doctor Headfix as he nodded asked mundane questions and scratched notes on a clipboard. He says that the interpretation of my dream tells him that I have issues with my mother from child hood. She was demanding and made me write sentences as punishment.
That's one example. For what ever reason, people seem to think that therapist actually fix people like a magic pill or something. It's not that simple. And in case you didn't catch the part about the fact that you can never be free of your affliction, no cure, no fixes available, well, I said it again. Therapy comes in many forms and there are endless possible applications, but all therapy shares a basic fact. It all depends on you. No therapy can even hope to work if the person getting therapy is not committed.  I mean committed to getting well not committed to a hospital in case you were confused. Even hypnotherapy can work if you are committed and believe. A therapist is kind of like a couch.

Things I Need to Say

I keep writing here because I am trying to help myself. I keep writing here because if I am not successful in helping myself, maybe what I write will help some one else. Today I can not see the sun and I am week and feel like I don't have the strength to drag forward to find it any more. I am broken and there is no fixing me. And now I know that I am doing the one thing that I never wanted to ever do. I am hurting the people I love, afflicting them with my sadness.  Through all of my life time of depression , one thing is a constant, that I will be OK. That I will live through this so that I can do it all over again the next time. Same old darkness, just another day. No matter how much you hate it, and how badly you never want to go through that again, you will. Over and over again.There is no real fix and there are no radical new medical treatments for depression and anxiety. None for PTSD either. The only tool available to you is knowledge friend. Go out and educate yourself. Google the hell out of the Internet, ask questions, talk to your therapist or mental health provider. What? You don't have one?! Get one and do it fast, cause you can't walk this road alone. Your gonna need all the help you can get if you want to live any kind of quality life. I know you what your thinking, you think if you you seek out a mental health provider well, that's just like seeing a shrink right? That means I'm crazy right? No it does not mean your crazy. And there are way to many misconceptions about therapists out there, way to many. So lets go there for a minute. Let me tell you what I know about counseling and therapy.

Knowing

What am I knowing you ask? Not near enough, I say. But I know some things and I have a thirst for knowledge of all things that can not be quenched. Every day I am hunting for answers, for something to feed my brain. I can never shut it off and sometimes it causes me damage. I think to much and when I have nothing to keep me distracted, my head fills with things that damage the heart and lead me in to the darkness of depression. For those who don't know, I suffer from chronic depression, anxiety attacks, and PTSD, (post traumatic stress disorder) I have been in therapy for a long time, years and years. Coupled with numerous different anti-depression drugs and anti-anxiety drugs. I even had to take pills to sleep sound so that I could sleep with out dreaming because of hellish nightmares that plagued me every night. I mean hellish. I would often wake up in a cold sweat crying and screaming. Terrified and some times not fully awake, I would be combative in total survival mode, literally fighting for my life and difficult to wake up. I rarely remembered the dream. I hated sleep and would avoid it any way I could, and dreaded the fact that sleep would come sooner or later, but it would come and there'd be nothing I could do about it.   My childhood was life threatening and I thank gawd I won't grow up again. But on another more positive note, I blame no one for that not even those who are grossly guilty! I have learned so much about mental health and nervous conditions in my quest to fully understand my own conditions that I could just about be a therapist! The truth behind all of this is that no matter how much I know or learn about my own conditions, I will never be completely free of them because there's no cure and no magic fixes. This used to piss me off. To realize that so long ago when my life had just begun, some people took away my innocents for there own greedy, selfish needs. They stripped me of everything that I was going to be and gave me a new future, one that was filled with pain and sadness and anger. There would be darkness and despair and confusion. Every single day would be a true struggle just to ex hist and make it to the next. They left me with an over whelming fear of everything especially people and removed my ability to trust anyone. I still hate to be touched. Hugging is hard but I am learning how to accept it. I still can't relax around people and have a hard time around crowds even if I know who they are. I fear unfamiliar places and don't go far out of my comfort zone but I have been working hard at stretching out the comfort zone perimeter. I can drive paces by myself and even stay over night but I lock my doors always and I make a point of keeping my distance from strange strangers, dealing with as few folks as I can and as little as I can. I learned long ago to read people. Their body language, their faces and expressions. Even their words because every body has their own language and you know nothing until you can speak and comprehend their language as well. I can see that this blog entry is gr owning in to a two part deal so I will cut it off here and c u in part two at another time. Soon though.

The Deep Dark Sadness

Depression is a huge part of my life. I hate to admit that. The commercials for all those different drugs that they say help with depression and anxiety, you've seen them.....? They say millions of Americans suffer from some form of depression.  Then why do we all feel so alone if there are millions of us?! Couldn't we all gather together and just wade around in our deep dark sadness together? Then at least the loneliness factor would be answered, right? No. Where then, does the answer lie? I know that I didn't fall in to this deep dark hole in my heart by consuming a bunch of pills, so what would make some one believe that the pills would fix me and my sadness? I sometimes see the answer to the question but it's so far away beyond my reach that I often give up and accept the cold familiar feeling of it all and slip down into it with out a fight. There have been times that I just woke to find myself there already. I don't know who I am at that point and there is no will to win and no logical explanations as to why I can't just walk it off. For those of you out there who don't have depression or anxiety or maybe you just don't know what it is, there is no way you can ever truly know what that's like, and it doesn't matter how well I describe it or any one else describes it either.

I have been in therapy for years and taken many,many different types of meds to try to help myself, at times, attempting to save my own life. In my opinion, the feeling of being all alone is the worst part and the hardest to deal with. Over the years, I have had some good therapists and have made huge strides of success in my life. But there is no cure, and I am reminded constantly that I will never be %100. That what happened to me as a child and the genetic pool that I come from stole away my right to a normal happy life with out therapy, medication, and The Deep Dark Sadness.

Being Alone

Today I am alone. I have always been alone. I can be in a room filled with people and yet I am still alone. There is nobody out there that thinks that I am number 1. No one that I can tell my pain or my pleasure to and not a single person who I could ever truly trust. I find comfort in animals who do not judge me or anyone. Their love is unconditional. They never lie or cheat. They are faithful and loyal not because you asked them to be but because it is built in to what they are. I can't remember ever being let down or disappointed by a pet. My dog has never bad mouthed me to the other dogs. He has never hurt me either. I don't expect he ever will. Knowing this, I should have just been satisfied with me and dogs tiny existence, but I was not. Now I am paying the price for trying to be a part of the world of lemmings and oh does it cost much. Feels like having your heart and soul ripped right out of you slowly and with as much hate and despise as there ever was. People are vicious and cruel. They all have one focus and it isn't a good one. Knowing this should have kept me safe, but it did not. So if I survive this, and I am pretty sure I will, so that my chances of suffering some more are much greater, I will embrace "ALONE" and stay within the comfort of it's darkness forever. I don't need anything from the people, and the love that I once had for them, the care and the hope and anything from my heart, is gone with the heart that has been ripped from me. Leave me alone, don't come near and never ask me for anything again because I don't have it you have taken it all.  

Dog-The Spirit Who Walks Beside Me

A dogs life is far to short. The breed I love the most is statistically given about 12 years of life. Like people, not all of those years are going to be quality years of life either. Age makes us all weak and vulnerable even dogs.
12 Years seems like a long time when you bring home your new puppy who usually starts his or her life with you at about 6 weeks of age.  I have never had a bad dog, quite the opposite! All of my dogs have been beyond special in so many ways. By the time they reach their golden years with me they have completely integrated their lives with mine and we are one. We don't need any verbal communications, as we are already reading each others minds. He/She just knows. I am aspiring to be a dog trainer, but I can't help thinking that it may not be that I am a talented dog whisperer but that the breed I have chosen is a talented people whisperer! They are so very intelligent. They are emotional and deep beyond any one's expectations. Not to mention loyal and faithful to the end even if the end is bitter.
Strangely enough, these characteristics came with the package man created to be a bloody and violent spectator sport tool. Designed to perform and please his master, in the art of fighting he has a heart of steel and the endurance to go on and on. He has natural pain tolerance unlike any other dog breed and he is infused with far more tenacity and vigor than the other breeds as well. I will never own any other breed, but that's not to say that I don't love all dogs because I do.
I consider all the dogs I have loved to be gifts from a higher being that saw fit to send those spirits to walk beside me on all my journeys and through out the coarse of my life. And I can not thank that gawd enough for such a great gift. I can not imagine my life without a dog in it.

About Monkeys

Since I was a kid I always wanted a monkey for a pet, what kid doesn't right? Well, I play a diffrent drum than most. When I want something, I go out and I first learn all I can about it. What it is, where it is, what it does, what it doesn't do, and everything else in between. I have spent around 10-15 years researching this species of primate. I had hoped that one day I would have a Tamarin to call my own. Washington sate laws and regulations have decided that I won't! Thanks to fucking stupid morons like that dumb bitch that owned the chimp that nearly killed a woman and ruined her life what's left of it. I wish I had the opportunity to chat a while with her! So The little girl Cotton top Tamarin in this picture belongs to a woman that I met online in my quest to own a Tamarin. She is a very knowedgable and kind person and shares her life with this Tamarin and several other exotic animals on the web in the form of videos and photos and a daily blog.

Fat-Boy

Meet Fat-Boy, a Rottweiler that has stolen my heart. If you read my last blog entry you already know part of his story. He has not had a fair and balanced life. In my hopes he remains, one day to come and live with us so that we can show him what it means to really be loved and cared for. For now I have my hands tied. I can only hope and blog about his future. I took this photo last summer. It was one that doesn't have so much of the misery that he ussually lives in. We had just gone over and raked and shoveled up his crap, washed his dog house and cleaned his area up of debree that he gets tangled up on. I brushed him and played ball with him. Our time was over and he was upset because we were leaveing. I wish that I could take him with me and never leave him behind again. I wish.     

This is Wrong

I have shared my sweet and loveing American Pitbull Terrier and his rather spoiled life with all who care to read it, now I am going to tell you about 2 other dogs that are in my heart and always a little tug of worry in the back of my mind. They came in to my life when they were around 7 weeks old, all cute and little and every body wanted to hold and pet them. They belonged next door to the eldest 2 sons of our nieghbors. At first they ran loose and that wasn't a problem really because they were small pups and they stayed next door for the most part. But as they grew they became destructive as unattended puppies will do, tearing up the insulation and cables under our home. They became a bit of a problem. We talked to the boys about it and the parents and soon the dogs were chained up with new chains, collars and plastic dog houses. And they stayed like that for a large period of time untill one day the boys came and got them and moved them. Later we found out that they had both gotten rental houses and had taken the pups to live with them. End of Story. No. A few monthes later the male dog,"Fat-Boy" was back, chained out back again. Eventually, his little sister was also back and both Fat-Boy and Sweetness remained there in the backyard of our nieghbors for a year and a half.
During this time we got ourselves pretty involved with the dogs because they were often in need of our attention. What I mean by that is that they spent the hottest days of the summer with no shade or water, they were tied on 15 foot chains so they were always in thier own shit and waste, and on 2 occasions the managed to get tangled together in such a way that the chains acted as touniquet around thier necks and one was passed out the other well on it's way. The chains were so tight I almost failed to rescue them in time. After that incident, they and I were bonded. They were clear who we were, the good people who cared.
When you have been as involved with dogs as I have been you learn the language of dog. Though each dog has a variation of that language the base stays the same. So you know what each bark indicates and how to decipher every whine or growl in time.
There were times that the dogs would bark all night. I wouldn't be able to sleep, so I would go check it out only to find them tangled or hungry sometimes just scared but often no water. I came to know when they needed help, and eventually we just made a point of going over to them 2x's a day with food and some love. I bought clean 5 gallon buckets and used my dremel to cut down one side in a half circle and we put rebar into the ground to stake the buckets to. I would pull the buckets evry three days and bleach them and the food dishes and my partner, Rick would rake the poop up and we both would lavish them with love. If they got loose, we would collect them and return them to their chains. On several occasions, Sweetness would get loose and come to our bedroom window and softly whine for us to help her.
When we took care of them they rarley barked, or broke loose, why should they, thier needs had all been met.
Then one day we came home and the dogs were gone. My heart ached for them. Because if the boys didn't care for them here what would happen to them some where else? I worried and worried, and made a point of enquireing about them and how they were doing every time I saw the boys.
Then one morning I heard a single bark so familliar coming from the back yard! I ran out there and sure enough, there was Fat-Boy jumping all over me and whimpering softly as if to say,"Oh human friend How I have missed you!" Sweetness was with her boy and they were doing much better from what I understood. She was indoors and had other dogs to play with where they lived.
Fat-Boy was so lonley with out her, when they were both together, they would howl every time they heard a siren, it was always an experience to hear them. Now that he was alone his solo howls seemed more like cries of despair and loss than anything, and I would go and try to comfort him.

Spoiled Dog

Well, here he is again that spoiled dog of mine! Yes he has his own blanket and it is a thick and fuzzy thing that he has loved since puppyhood! When I take it off the bed and wash it he gets all stressed out and has to get involved with the whole process of laundry. He watches as I put it in the washer, eyes wide makeing this snorting noise we call "Snuffalufagus Sounds". Then he passes back and forth from me to the washer untill it's time to go in the dryer. Then he waits for me to open the dryer and promptly sticks his head in to inspect this thing that I am going to put his fuzzy blanket in as if to see if it's up to his standards for blanket drying. Then the passing begins again untill the dryer is done. When I get it out he follows me and it to the bed where he does the blanket dance on it untill he gets it just right. Then he likes to get all wrapped up in it as you see in the picture, We call it "Burrito-Dog". I often wonder what he really is because dogs are not this human!

The Definition of Family to Me

Webster's Pocket Dictionary gives the following definitions for the word, "family".

1. parents and their children
2. relatives
3. lineage
4. group of related things

Of coarse Webster's is only stateing facts with no emotion as it is a reffrence manual.
Everyone has their own definition of family and naturally so do I.
Thing is that the word family is not such a good description of the folks I call Family!
I preffer to use the term,"My People" because as a child growing up I didn't know many members of my family very well and some I still don't know at all. But I did recognize that being a part of Family, My People, or whatever word you want to use, was a vital and missing part of my life and there for became my life long ambition. I was determend to find and be with ,"MY PEOPLE"! I was about 8 years old when I made that promise to my self. I spent the better part of my 40 years following that goal, all the while driven to do it by some deep unseen force that would not let me stop untill I was successful.
Strange, when little kids have som e crazy idea or dream it ussually is something like, I want to be a fireman or I want a puppy or even a dragon, not when I grow up I want to be with my family!
Why don't healthy and balanced children ever set goals like that? Because they are born in to it and it is strong constant that is almost like breathing, kids just don't think that way normally.
Knowing that, you would think that it wouldn't be a goal that would be difficult to achieve. Wrong! I really did spend my entire life trying despatretley to be with my people! I wanted it for so long and so badly that I had some how, gradually given up in side, that I would ever find it. So to my surprize, when I realized that I had come to be with my people, I was upset at myself for not recognizing a lifetime goal and truley appreciating it. But I did see it and I celebrate the goodness of it every minute of every day now!
Kind of hard to explain how good it feels to know that there are a group or groups of folks out there who know who I am and where I came from, and the love me any way. I also struggle with describing what it does to a person's world to be accepted and to belong some where to people who call you their own. You could not imagine and I fail to find words that could say.
With this, I am also able to see my past and all the people in it for what and who they are. My heart aches with it all and I am over whelmed.