Stay Strong

Not much today peeps, stay alert and vigilant. Don’t wait for a government check to survive, start looking for jobs NOW. This is far from over, and the world depression that will follow this will be like nothing we have seen before. Get ahead of the group thats waiting. Waiting will make you homeless. Be safe, stay strong, and focus, don’t lose sights of your goals.

Stay Alert and Learn

Regardless of opinions on the virus the reality is we are on lockdown and will probably be for a while. When this is “over” normal will not be the normal that we knew so the time to start accepting that is now. I have talked many times in the past about climate change leading to more dangerous viral outbreaks and in the big picture of things we are very lucky this pandemic is a “simple” sort of virus to say, viruses get so much worst. Many have warned this day would come within our lifetimes. It could have been much worst and will be if we do not start changing our ways. This is a huge wake up call as to what a fragile system surrounds us all and how broken it already is. The reality is many people will die, whether it be from the virus or the depression that will follow. Nature needs balance and nature will always win. So here’s a few recommendations as to what you can do during this time of waiting.

Remember all those ideas you always saved for later or said you didn’t have time for?
Do them, and not just cleaning.
Get back into reading, writing, drawing, exercising (Prime has many free classes! And Courts Plus is offering video classes you can do at home), dancing, singing, learning an instrument, learning a language, making memories with your kids, it’s a time to work on yourself and your family. What have you wanted to do for a long time but always say your too busy? Tomorrow has never been promised but its always been assumed it existed.

Put down the alcohol, drugs, cigarettes, junk food, detox yourself fully from any addiction. It is doing nothing good for you. Instead fill the voids with meditation and asking yourself why you feel the need to have this toxin or addiction in your life? Use this as a time to clean your body, mind, and spirituality whatever it may be (they are all three intertwined). If you are able to, go outside, feel the air, see the sky, hear the wind, nature is our friend. Let your demons take over so you can face them and start to heal.

Let go of any negative strings or attachment. The past is the past, as cruel as it is you just have to get over it and move on or that is just another stressor in a very uncertain reality. Make amends if need be, after all, tomorrow is not promised for anyone and has never been. Your loved ones could very well be gone tomorrow or next week so say what you need to say.

If you are in the low risk category of fatality/long term side effects if infected, and unemployed, even if temporarily, start looking now for whatever work is available, even if it is dirty, crappy, or hard work. Do not wait on the government to provide for you. Our new normal is going to have sky high unemployment, do not wait around for a job that might not exist. Get ahead of the ones who are waiting for checks in the mail, give yourself that security. (This is my own opinion, not saying everyone should be endangering their health, but I personally am not going to sit around waiting for a check because its not sustainable for a year or year and a half and there will be a major job shortage after its over, so if you are capable and confident you can survive the virus, than use it as opportunity )

Start really looking at the impact we have on our planet. Its been argued we can’t live without oil or coal and that clean energy is not sustainable, well, nature is pretty much saying “screw you all then.” We can start reducing our impact, even if it means not having a 5G phone, walking more, putting in place products that cost more to be environmentally friendly, otherwise it wont even matter. The earth is warming up, and whether or not you believe it to be man made, it is in our best interest to try and slow it down.

Start getting into gardening and self sustainability. Many vegetables and herbs can be grown on balconies and if you have a yard you can grow fruit even. We need to start giving back to the planet and by something as simple as gardening we can feed the bees. If you are not able to do this, start supporting your small farmer market friends. Get away from the mass produced meat, studies show they have a terrible effect on our climate. And even if you do not believe that, the animals live terrible lives. I am not saying to not eat meat, but to respect the animals and be thankful to nature. Support the small farmers who raise their animals ethically.

The future is uncertain and very grim if we do not change now, this is humanities wake up call. Climate change does not only bring extreme weather, but food shortage, viruses, parasites, water shortage, and it will be our children and grandchildren who deal with the worst of it. So let us mend our connections with nature because in the end, nature will always win. Nature has proven it does not care about borders, humanity is in this together.

Epilogue

Every day is a struggle. I know my mind will never fully be right. There will always be spurts of depression and mania. Learning to recognize them helps, but it doesn’t make them any less painful. I have come a long way since the last post. I have learned that what the little girl-the little monster-needed was to be loved and held and given reassurance that everything would be ok. I accepted her as a part of me and she no longer rears her angry head and bares her teeth at the world. I am still damaged and will always be. I am what sexual abuse, bullying, and instability do to a person. There are many like me, just most succumb to the world and never get back up. I cannot say why I am different. I have spent many moments crying and asking myself why I think the way I do. I keep fighting though, even when I want to give up. My mind fights to survive. I have been bulimia free since January 1st, 2019. I ended up just not giving a shit anymore, mostly. My body has changed but I am active at the gym and even have a personal trainer. Ending the bulimia has helped end the abuse of alcohol. I find it more enjoyable these days and relaxing. I eat well; still lower carb, but I can also splurge without feeling guilty. I live in a safe and amazing apartment.
Money is still extremely tight but that’s okay, I can control it more easily. I have been accepted into NDSU with a tuition waiver scholarship. I will hopefully have my AAS by the end of the summer, provided a depression doesn’t knock me down too hard. I know there will always be an end to it though. It is still unclear what I was trying to accomplish, if anything, with writing this other than to document and to provide insight as to how much abuse fucks someone up. Getting my story out there to the world has been what helped me fully accept and heal from the past, now I just get to deal with the side effects from the damage, that is okay though, the past is not so heavy anymore. I’m not longer running from it, afraid of what will happen if it overtakes me. It almost feels as if it no longer exists.


Life Comes In 3’s (Part 3)

Death has always been weird to me. I have never been able to express condolences appropriately. When a close uncle found out he had cancer my first words were “well, that’s what he gets for smoking.” I did feel bad but showing empathy has never been a strong trait of mine. It is also weird to me because for much of my life I was waiting to die. There have been many times where the only reason I am alive today is because I always thought about the risk that if there were a God I would be sent to Hell for killing myself. My Grandma died this past Christmas and there was a lot of pain, anger, and envy. There was pain because I am human and hated the thought of her being gone; there was anger because she should have passed a lot sooner, but medicine and her kids kept her alive. I should not say this so cold-heartedly because honestly, I would have a hard time letting my mom go too. I could see in her eyes she was very clearly ready to go and when she did there was relief, but still the pain and anger. The envy was something I feel is a bit abnormal. I envied her because she was able to cross over and not worry about Hell existing. I am sure I said it to my daughter’s mom too many times how much I envied my grandma. It was a really hard winter. But the main point is, I suck at death, and I really am sorry to those I cannot clearly express condolences to. I do feel bad and know how loss feels, I just suck a lot at the expression.

Life comes in 3’s. I have experienced much of what is criticized in women’s rights movements today. I gave birth to the baby of a rape and chose adoption, as any pro-lifer would say is the mysteries of how God works. I am assuming pro-lifers would say this because a couple were able to adopt a baby. Reality is, is that couple would have probably ended up with a child sooner or later, and they actually ended up with two more. I also experienced what it feels like to be at that point where you have only one way out and being pregnant could close the doors that could lead you out of an abusive relationship. I could have chosen adoption again, however his family would have never agreed to it, and they had a lot of money and were a fairly well-known name around the area. I am not trying to make excuses, after all, I have admitted that it was honestly the best thing I could have done for myself, and where I am at today, I know this to be completely true. Abortion is not all what pro-lifers make it out to be. When done in the first six weeks like I had it done, it was literally a little spot, a zygote. This is not saying I agree completely with abortion. I do not believe it should be used as a means of birth control because that is not good for a woman’s body at all. I believe after the second trimester it should definitely be illegal, after all, it is then a baby in my eyes. I still debate on the second trimester. I can understand for medical reasons for sure. However, this post is not to debate my beliefs, but to tell the third of the 3’s, the daughter I have today.
When I got pregnant with my daughter, I had moved back to the shitty small town my parents retired to. I was living in a really shitty trailer with really bad water and working at a pizza parlor that were both owned by the same guy. He pretty much owned the town. It’s a great way to feel owned when the guy you buy your liquor, food, water, and housing from also pays your paycheck (very minimum wage). It’s a dog like feeling, but smart on his end. I was beat down by life in every sense. I went to work at a low paying job that left me just enough money after bills to buy booze and weed. Work was where I ended up meeting the sperm donor, we both liked to drink and smoke so that is pretty much what the whole relationship was. As any drunken depressed uncaring spree will get someone, I found out I was pregnant. There was fear, but also not. I actually barely had the energy to care. I quickly chose adoption because I was too broke to afford another abortion and no way did, I want to parent. When I told my parents I was pregnant, they gave me two options, I go to a Catholic maternity home in a small desolate town that they found and they would support me, or I don’t, and they would have nothing to do with me. My parents have always been great at parenting (sarcasm). My parents thought I would come out of the home a happy Catholic woman. I did end up happy in life, however, not because of the home. In fact, I will never step foot in another Catholic church again because of them. There is a lot that went on there that I will not dive into as it’s not the point of this blog, however, I got out as soon as I could.
When I got to the maternity home, I knew I needed a job, after all, I was having trouble with the sperm donor not signing his rights away. Apparently, for adoption sperm donors need to sign away their rights as well, not just the birthmother. The problem was he wanted to parent. I think it was at the point where I realized there was a chance, I would have to parent that I started caring about my life. I would never agree to give him custody, after all, he was high on meth pretty consistently. Since I knew there was a chance of parenting, I knew I need to find work so I could provide because I did not want to live on welfare. I started work at a local gas station until I could find something better and I eventually found work as a carrier at the post office. Right when I got the post office, I left the maternity home, so within a couple months I would say of moving there. I got my own apartment and was getting ahead enough that I could take care of my daughter if I had to. When I started the post office, I was around five months pregnant and made sure to keep my head down. I worked as hard as I could during probation. I knew that if the post master found out I was pregnant he would find any small reason to let me go, after all, it would be an inconvenience for him. Probation was 90 working days or 120 days together, whichever came first. When I got pregnant, I was 156, with all the walking I did I stayed roughly around that mark, in fact I lost weight a bit, so I didn’t show during probation. I think I was gaining baby weight as I was losing body fat. By month seven I started gaining weight and clearly showed. My postmaster had given me great reviews by than so he really had no valid reason to let me go when he found out, and I explained to him I chose adoption so I wouldn’t need leave. I am not bragging but when I gave birth, I was almost 180, two weeks after birth I was 130. I always said Black Chyna had nothing on me.
I worked hard at the post office and gas station until I gave birth. I started loving the shit out of my unborn daughter. The adoption plan was all over the place and it was a long hassle of going back and forth with the sperm donor who kept falling off the grid. Once I got around the 6th month mark my adoption counselor and I decided I needed to start looking at families to at least have an idea who I wanted to choose and to let the potential family know the risks of everything going on. The sperm donor finally signed his rights away the Friday before I was scheduled to meet my daughters’ parents. Things get hazy here because I went into false labor before I even had a chance to meet them. I say false labor, but I was dilating and having contractions less than five minutes apart. I was injected with steroids for my daughter’s lungs when this first happened and given medicine to stop the contractions. I knew she was going to be early, however at the time, I was barely 7 months along. So, the way I met my daughter’s parents was not the most ideal of ways, they brought me candy though. I like candy. I liked them a lot, however, hated them when my daughter was born less than a month later.
There is a moment when you hold up your baby onto your bare chest, whom you have loved and talked to throughout your pregnancy, that you realize you would do anything for them. This moment can barely be explained in words other than just love, the purest of loves.
With adoption, this is also the scariest and most painful time as well. I knew that because I loved my baby so much is why I needed to give her up to a family who would provide. I was scared and full of pain, but also relieved from not being pregnant anymore. I remember when my daughters’ parents came into my hospital room to meet her, I hated them. I had met them before and we had really hit it off, being very into a lot of the same interests and complete wierdos. When the moment came for them to meet my daughter though, all I could do was hate her soon to be mom. I did not want them anywhere close to her. I have often wondered if I have a potent aura, because I seem to give off what I am feeling fairly easy and I’m pretty sure they felt it. I had been very dead set on about the adoption, after all, I knew I was in no position to give my daughter what she needed and deserved. I did not want either of us to depend on welfare. I did not want her to be in daycare with strangers. I wanted her to have a future and an education that didn’t cost her a lifetime of debt. I had spent my pregnancy set on adoption, however when I held her in my arms I could barely fathom letting her go. I looked for every reason to not choose her parents, even the shallowest of reasons. I did not want to say goodbye to my daughter. Those three days I spent in the hospital they spent wondering why they were not good enough. Ironically, it was the opposite. I knew they were better than me and could give my daughter everything I couldn’t. The pain of leaving the hospital without her was pure agony and the only way I was able to handle it was to tell myself I could go and get her anytime and that I just needed the weekend to figure it all out. Inside I knew this to be a lie, but it’s how I coped those next few days. Sometimes I do need to fool myself temporarily to get past emotions. Obviously, everything worked out amazingly as they are my best friends now, but damn I’m a bitch sometimes.

Life works in 3’s, pregnancy via rape that leads to adoption (a pro-lifer would say god works in mysterious ways), abortion to get out of a very abusive relationship (pro-choicers would say this is a great example) and getting pregnant while waiting to die that in turn woke me up and gave me strength. Personally, I feel people need to mind their own fucking business and need to stop being so fucking extreme. There have been no easy paths in my life, however, I do feel stable paths forming.

I apologize if this blog is a bit all over the place, I really tried to piece it together correctly to where it makes sense. In 60 days, I have literally told all about my life and who I am. I do feel very healed in many ways but there is still healing left for the little girl I suppose. Well, I suppose I have blogged for two hours so now need to get to work. Have a great day everyone. Be good to yourself.


Day 59- Life Comes In 3’s (Part 2)

As I talked about yesterday, I told you that I had been impregnated through rape. What came after that was a spiral of mania and fighting to survive. It was mixed emotions after I had given away the first baby. I say gave away because I did not want her. In the adoption it was decided that I would get visits and pictures every so often. I tried to love her; I really did. I could not and still cannot. I suppose there has always been some guilt in this, after all, shouldn’t it be natural? I guess I have never been normal though. After I gave her away, I had moved to a small town with my parents where they had retired. I do not do well in small towns, too much sky or something. I didn’t stay there long and ended up moving to the third largest city in NoDak…so…fairly small. It was the first time I was away on my own for real and I was excited. I had so much energy and hope in me. I ended up getting a job at Walmart and started dating a guy. This guy was actually somewhat nice; however, I have a feeling he only dated me because I looked a lot like his ex-wife. Also, he liked sex, but also didn’t, it was weird. After his divorce he partied a lot and slept around. He ended up partying with underage girls and in turn, sleeping with one and getting caught. It didn’t work out well for him. So, I can understand his sex deprivation along with his mom continuously telling him he needed to be a good boy…literally those words. It became a bit awkward when he would sleep with me and then talk about how much of a bad boy he was and needed to go home. It was equally awkward the time he spent the night and his mom was calling him nonstop. Well, this didn’t last too long I guess because he ended up giving me a couple days’ notice that he was moving to California. Not the first time this had happened to me, one of the first guys I dated right after moving to the Bakken managed to give me three days’ notice he was moving to Texas. I literally suck that bad LOL! Anyways, he moved which left me confuzzled and fucked in the head. I actually did okay though, I ended up getting the job at the post office doing overnights and was somewhat paying bills on time. However, I was still lonely, confused, and under mania. I started drinking at this time since I was freshly 21. I partied alone though because I have never been good at making friends, and what friends I did make, honestly made me very uncomfortable. About a year later is when I met my ex I have talked about. I still wish I never would have met him. I did the whole online dating thing and turned out he lived in one of my apartment complex buildings. Of course, I thought this was fate. Too bad for me for being naive and stupid. The first couple weeks were okay, however, by the second week I knew I didn’t like him at all. I have mentioned previously that I broke up with him but then he broke down and told me how much he loved me. Oh, the naivety of that stupid girl I was. If I never would have taken him back, I would have kept my job at the post office and would have been career. Instead I let him convince me to quit because he could provide. Oh well, he didn’t. Ironically when money was tight, I ended up filling out an application for him for the post office and taking the tests for him, so he got the job. As every relationship built upon bad foundation does, it quickly became a toxic rollercoaster. It was continuous fighting, leaving and moving back, physical and mental abuse. I cannot say it was only him, as I was crazy also, however I can say he packed the hardest beating, I’m sort of little. I have always wished I was stronger. This went on for a good two years. We often moved and often drank. I was constantly moving in and out. I feel bad for my cats I had during this time. I had them my whole life. He would purposely hurt one because it upset me. Even though they were 18 when I had to put them down, I do feel they could have lasted longer if I never would have met him. Eventually I gave the cats to my parents to watch. My ex ended up getting two new ones, one whom he had given to me. It was a tuxedo kitty whom I named Ichabod, after Ichabod Crane. My ex was not nice to him at all. He would purposely hurt him and try to drown him. It would often bring back many flashbacks. I eventually grew up enough strength to move out for good. When I finally did this however, I learned I was pregnant. Oh, the irony, of finally having the strength to get on your feet from an abusive relationship and then having a positive pregnancy test. I couldn’t handle it. I hated him and he hated me. We got an abortion, and although many would criticize me for this (those same people would never criticize him of course) I do not regret it at all. Maybe for a little while I did afterwards, however, I am not sure how much of that guilt was fearing the disappointment of others versus disappointment in myself that I let myself get in such a fucked-up part of life. I did not want to be pregnant again. The first pregnancy I had was very traumatic. I have never wanted kids and definitely did not want to go through the experience of pregnancy again. I did not want to feel trapped in an abusive relationship when I was finally getting myself out. I did what I had to do. For the most part, everything ended there. When I ended up leaving him for good right after that, he sent me a picture of Ichabod choked by his collar. I broke down pretty hard after that. I suppose this was the beginning of my full-blown mania that wouldn’t go away for a good couple of years. During this time is when I fully gave up and was just waiting to die. For some, having an abortion would seem like the worst thing I have ever done. To me, it is the best thing I have ever done for myself. What would come after these years of turmoil and spiraling out of control is the daughter I have today, who literally saved my life.

Life comes in 3’s, first-getting pregnant through rape which was nothing but hate, anger, and disgust, second- having an abortion and being very relieved and happy that I was finally able to say goodbye to the asshole for good.

I have always done what I needed to survive. I do not pretend to be a good person, after all, being a good person can conflict with survival. Although, I am starting to get into a place in life where I do not feel the need to survive as much as I feel the need to live. I am in a good place now in life, I am working on my mind and body as well as almost spiritual, just not in a sense of god. I do hope my readers do not judge me too harshly, as reading back throughout my history can explain why I did what I have done. I have forgiven myself and others for a lot. I just need to take care of that little girl inside of me. Well, I had better get to work. I feel good today. Everyone be good to yourselves; I am trying. Goodbye.


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