I dug a little on the web. I have taught my children religious tolerance their whole lives. When they asked what eggs and bunnies have to do with Christ I explained the merging of Christianity with Paganism. So I will share with everyone.
Regardless of what you believe, I encourage you to be with loved ones today or at least call them to say happy Spring. We made it through the winter and new life is all around us so try to see the kindness and warmth the earth is offering today.
Italo Calvino said: The more enlightened our houses are, the more their walls ooze ghosts. Describe the ghosts that live in this house: Image credit: “love Don’t live here anymore…” – © 2009 Robb North – made available under Attribution 2.0 Generic
Blue devils surrounded by sparks of memories is all I have left. I miss my bright lights, their shining faces always under me,wanting something, always wanting. On occasion it was even important. I want to leave but a force is begging me to stay. Stay and see what I left unfinished, unaccomplished, under a tide of quiet desperation. I knew they were here, when the water filled my lungs and I heard the screaming coming from the back seat. I knew they would meet me here. Home is where we belong. Home, without the pressure of food and electricity. Home where I knew you would be, smiling, laughing, waiting for mama. I was so ecstatic when I felt myself being enveloped in warmth and the choking dark liquid that took us away. Away to here, home. Please come home beautiful honey eyed babies that love me in spite of the way I allowed you to be treated. Come home,
I will wait as long as it takes for you to find me. Then we can enter the kingdom together. I will busy myself getting ready for our lifting into the arms of the one we seek. I just need you to hear me, find me so we can finally go home.
I took a “inspire me” this morning from wordpress. It asked about a heart pounding time in your life. I wanted to share this fractured memory for the girls who know. And a prayer for those who will never, to stay that way.
The pounding was not stopping. At first I thought it was only in my head. The club came back to me in a sour tasting upward wrench from my stomach. No, someone wants in,who the hell tries to break down a door at 7:30 in the morning. Donna forgot her fucking key….again. Working opposite schedules with a roommate is fantastic and frustrating. “I am coming, chill out” Shit, where are my pants. Fumbling down the stairs, half dressed. I don’t remember opening the door, but I did. I completely expected an apology and a rush back in the house to get whatever she forgot.
I did not expect him. His eyes were strange, hyper focused. I could not look away. He was talking so fast I did not notice that the door was being shut behind him. What, who…he was dressed nice, did I meet him last night. He is talking about, what? He stopped, I tried to speak but I was so cloudy from last nights adventures. “Who are….” He asked for a beer, a beer at 7:30 in the morning. My heart-pounding was rising into my ears. I stood immobile, what had I done? Who is this guy. Why is he in my house. Over and over I kept asking. He is staring at me. Ok, get the beer, he seems nice, get the beer then make your way to the door while he is drinking….maybe he just wants a beer. When he took the beer he stood up and started upstairs. He reached back and grabbed my hand. Finally I got the courage “Who the Fuck are you …and..” Before another word was spoken, he smiled put down the beer and reached into his pocket. The blade popped up when he touched it. He leaned in and said “Remember you owe me one, you are such a tease”.
Survivor mode is easy for me . My childhood brought me to this moment. I could not run so I just went into my own head and quietly shut down, it came easily. The blood rushing in my ears was so loud . My body was freezing cold and stiff. I lay down as instructed, the bed was unmade. I could not hear all the words he seemed to be saying .Aids was just getting revved up and the scars and pustules on his back terrified me more than the penetration, Please God, I hope he used a condom. He finally finished, stood up and put his pants back on. My pillow was wet, I felt the cold on my face, the ac was running on high. I was so sore, my whole body hurt. My breathing never changed. I focused on my breathing, I did not want to upset him. The knife never left his hand. Did he actually just said “thank you” ?.
The door slammed shut, my chest started pounding harder, the convulsions started. The roaring ripping me in half, pain, I heard a scream, me, this, no. Anger has always been my friend and constant companion. I was raised with Hells Angels and Irish bulldogs. I knew how to defend myself. Fuck this I will call the cops…. But I let him in, I gave him a beer, I had the reputation, and the mollies in my purse. Had I told him to come over for this? He wasn’t my first one off. But no, there was a knife Goddamn it. No, I could never tell anyone, being wild is one thing but being labeled a whore by the police is another.
I saw him again a few months later, on TV. It made me proud to know there were women stronger than me in the world.
This morning has been interesting. I have a series of exercises I do every morning. I have two bulging disc in my lower back. I am supposed to do these exercises every day. What my physical therapist neglected to mention is I will not be able to get out of bed without these. I put on my front page who I am. My body not doing what I tell it to is part of the 51 acts like 12 year old. One thing I have learned is if you stop moving….you stop moving.
I see all these ads to build strength and add muscle. I have not seen any offering a program that allows you to just get out of bed without creaking and pain. I know there is a demographic that is ignored….me. I have enough money to give someone for good ideas on this subject but they only want to give me drugs. It is as if once you pass a certain age you are then considered the drug generation.
I choose not to be a druggie. I got that out of my system in my early 20’s. So for now I will be thankful I have insurance and a PT that keeps me moving. Just wondered when my generation became the invisible one.
One of the things I think all bloggers have to deal with is spam. I am on a mission not to lose the parts of myself that are kind and caring. This is difficult sometimes. My journey is medically altered at times, angry at times and very sad. The mania is still sorta fun but unhealthy. I get a lot of comments. I cannot tell what is real and what is not. It is for this reason I did a simple search and found this article. The reason I created this blog is to have a place I can chronicle my journey in hope that it will help me and perhaps others. It might even help with your blogging.