Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Thursday, September 25, 2008
This is a story about my ex. It isn't pretty. It's a memory I try to not dwell on.
We had been together for about 6 months. I was still drinking at the time. We still had separate abodes, but stayed over frequently and for long periods of time at each other's place. It begin as simply me wanting to visit and him not wanting to answer the door or the phone, though he knew it was me. Instead of responding to either one and politely saying he wasn't in the mood or whatever, he let it escalate. I had been out with friends at a bar, and therefore drunk. I became upset (very upset) after being ignored for over thirty minutes worth of repeated phone calls and knocking on the door. (I actually was knocking hard enough to put small dents in the metal door). So finally he cracks open the door and I push it open (I use to leg press 450#). Obviously at this point he is livid because I've been so insistent. I'm drunk and want to discuss what his problem is. He pushed. I pushed back. We ended up rolling around on the floor. Now I'm a lover not a fighter, and I really wasn't there to fight, so I was only trying to defend myself not inflict any damage on him. He was out for blood. He grabbed a glass ashtray and begin to pound me repeatedly in the head with it. I was so hurt (not just physically), I crawled to the bar to stand and leave, with what dignity I had left. He yelled to me "just stay down". For some reason I complied. He opened the door and I literally crawled through it. Then to add insult to injury, he kicked me as hard as he could in the ass and slammed the door. I made it the the top of the stairs and sat up to grasp what had just happened. Blood was running down my face. I was sore. I cried.
I finally steadied myself and proceed cautiously down the stairs and to my truck. I drove to a pay phone and called my best friend at two in the morning. I explained what transpired and ask him to come. I was about 30 minutes away from him, so I sat on the curb and waited. When he showed up, he couldn't believe it. I'm not sure how it came up, but the cops was called. When they arrived, we were informed to press charges we would have to go downtown. My best friend drove us the the government center. After all that time and with what I had just been through, the Magistrate wouldn't allow me to press charges because I had been drinking. I had to comeback sober (like getting in the head repeatably doesn't sober you up). We left and retrieved my truck. I never went back to press charges. I accepted the fact that I was partially to blame.
My ex and I didn't speak for about 4 months. We saw each other a couple of times at the mall but that was it. We just keep going. One day, I was in the yard painting some furniture. He drove up. It was a bit awkward, but some how we managed to work it all out. We apologized and started over. The best part was he was hurt from me throwing him over the kitchen bar into the living room, (I don't remember that, but yea me!). I told him that was his "one free shot", next time I would do my best to put him in the hospital. We lasted another 10 years, with no similar problems.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Today, those stations were still out of gas and when I went into town, the five I passed were also out. At school, I overheard many conversations about stations running out. Supposedly, the supply is en route and should be within the area in the next day or two. I certainly hope so. I didn't like that walking to much.
Monday, September 22, 2008
Sunday, September 21, 2008
- I came out to my parents when I was 15 years old. (they thought it was a phase.)
- My longest relationship was almost ten years. It ended seven years ago.
- I've had my share of flings and one night stands.
- AIDS has wiped out most all of my friends,(10 so far) while I remain alone and negative.
- I've had two D.U.I.'s , after the second, I stopped drinking.
- I've been robbed at knife point, the only clear description I could give the officer was "He was uncut and limp."
- My sister and I were both adopted as infants. I have no desire to find my biological parents.
- I use to party hardy in my twenty's and somewhat into my mid-thirties. Now I don't go out at all.
- I love to eat out at restaurants when I can afford it. I have even gone by myself several times.
- I had an acquaintance that was strangled to death and had his penis cut off and placed in his mouth. (never solved)
- I had a friend die of testicular cancer. (check your balls, guys)
- I had a high school classmate commit suicide.
- I had a close friend die in a head on collision with a drunk driver.
- I live in an 18 year old trailer, in a trailer park, that my parents bought me to get me out of their house. (there is a hole in the floor on one side of the bed I have to step over and a broken out window in the living room.)
- My sister pays for my Internet service.
- My parents are paying my expenses while in I'm back in school.
- I attempted suicide in high school. (my mother was furious that I used her pills and threw the coffee mug at the wall, knocking a hole in it.)
- I've been in and out of therapy since high school for depression.
- I was officially diagnosed about 20 years ago, and recently added Inattentive Disorder to the list.
- I have very good taste and a panache for design. I originally went to college to be an architect.
- I love to write and have secretly longed to be a novelist. (not so secret anymore)
- I have a dry, wicked sense of humor.
- I love movies, thanks mostly to my ex.
- I had, to date, thirty three jobs in my life, thus far, and expect to have a few more.
- I've been on food stamps before.
- I've been on unemployment several times in my life.
- I'm currently getting counseling from Vocational Rehabilitation.
- I've received medication before through Health Quest, and seeking it again.
- I have only had anal sex with five people in my life. Two were boyfriends, one a crush, one I was briefly dating, and the other a stranger I picked up at a bar.
- I lived in Tampa for about 6 months in 1989.
- I've had one wreck in my life, and several speeding tickets.
- My current therapist thinks I'm well adjusted.
- I'm a very loving and generous person.
- I've help out two friends that needed a place to stay, without cost to them.
- My ex let me drive his BMW 750 back from a trip to Atlanta. (still my favorite car.)
- I had my truck repossessed once, my father got it back for me.
- I had to let my last new car go back, (I loved that car) to help take care of my grandfather and I had just lost another job. (my father brought me a used Suzuki)
- I'm a very spiritual person, but don't care for big organized churches.
- My lowest weight was 145#, my heaviest was 252#, my current is 210#, my best was 175# with a 32 inch waist, a 44 inch chest and 10% body fat back in 2005.
- I have had dentures since third grade. (bike accident)
- I have never broken a bone, and do not have any scars.
- I have three tattoos. (a dragon, a cross, and a smurf)
If this doesn't scare away every potential suitor, then I may should be afraid. I wish my life had turned out differently, but it didn't. I learned a lot about myself, my family, my friends, and life in general. I can't change the past, but I can learn from it. I wish I were perfect, but I don't think I would be as interesting.
Saturday, September 20, 2008
The reason I even wrote about this is to show the ignorance and bigotry, and yes, even greed that plagues this country today. My father wasn't worried about other people losing their money in failed institutions, or having their homes foreclosed. Why would he? My parents have two homes that are paid for, another they just inherited from my grandfather, and another my father has half interest in from his father's inheritance. They also now have a total of about 25 acres of land in an area where prices are over $50,000 an acre. And my parents own my mobile home! He keeps very little in the stock market (It's just to risky for him). My sister and her husband have over 200 rental properties and one of my uncles has untold rental houses in the area. I guess he isn't worried about anyone else's future. Everyone he knows is taken care of! Now, don't get me wrong, both of my parents are very generous with time and money. Both are very strong supporters of our local Hospice. Both have helped me through my rough spots in life more than I can even count. My father helps out his other siblings when they have a need. I know he has even loaned money to a co-worker that was never repaid. But not voting for someone because of their color or even learning from independent, unbiased source instead of just TV commericals is just about the most asinine thing I've ever heard.
This attitude, sorry to say, is very prevalent in the south. I doubt I can change his mind. It won't stop me from continuing to try. I wanted to bring up the fact that because of Republicans and people who use the same logic is the reason I have no rights. I can pay tax, serve on jury duty, be arrested, but I can still be discriminated against in housing and unemployment in our state. I can't even die for my country. I can't marry the person of my choice and someone else, because of their religious beliefs can trump my personal rights. What happen to liberty and the pursuit of happiness? What happen to we are all created equal? I'm personally tired of being a second class citizen. I want some one watching my back for a change. I want a level playing field for everyone and everyone using the same rule book. Not special or different, just legally the same as every straight, white or black, female or Hispanic, Muslim or atheist. Is that really too much to ask?
So much for romantic when your boyfriend works for a florist wholesaler.
Friday, September 19, 2008
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Unlike the others that had passed before him, it was expected. He was 90 years old. He had just recovered from a broken hip and doing well on that front. I stayed with him almost every night from mid-December till the morning he passed. In the beginning it was just him and me. Later when it was apparent that a longer supervised recovery time was needed, my mother stepped in and started staying one night a week. Afterwards, it was two nights a week. Then it became obvious that he couldn't be alone during the day, do we divided up the week between us. Some nights, some days. Hospice came in toward the end to help out and so did their Chaplin. All was a God send.
It was still odd though, how he went from a great recovery to not being able to leave the bed. This was something different. It was a problem with the nerves in his spine. In all the time I had been staying with him, he never really complained that much. He treated the recovery as an inconvenience, something to be tolerated. One night that changed and so did everything else. He retired to bed early as usual, about 8:30 or so. I was watching TV, settling in for the evening. He had been in the bed for about an hour when he called out. I went flying down the hall. He was wincing in pain, one leg raised off the bed, and trying to reach it. I asked what was wrong. He said his leg felt like it was on fire, like pins and needle, that he had never felt anything like it before. Then he said what I will never forget, " I think I need to go to the hospital". My grandfather never says anything like that! I knew he truly was suffering. I called my parents, who live next door(though there is a lot of land between them), they both rushed over. We tried to get him into the car, finally me just picking him up(manhandling) and placing him in the front seat. I waited at his house.
After more doctors visits, more test, more x-rays, a CAT scan, and a stay in the hospital,, it was determined to be a nerve in his spine. The bone surrounding it was to fragile to operate. They could only manage the pain. Being 90 years old didn't help matters either. The whole family convened to determine what to do. We decided to follow his Living Will and keep him at home for as long as possible. The bulk of the care fell with my mother and I. She was more equipped than I. She is actually a retired Hospice nurse. My sister lives about 65 miles away with 3 very active kids and could only help out once a week. My father would run errands and such as needed. My parents church was amazing! Food, supplies and visits, it did my heart good.
My grandfather has always been a very head strong fella. He was still growing his own garden, keeping his own house up until he had broken his hip. This was a horrible set back for him. He didn't quite understand what was going on. Everyone that he asked would try to explain it to him. But with his Sundowners and seventh grade education, it never made sense to him. For the most part it wasn't to hard to take care of him. We were all glad to do it. Toward the end though, watching him wasting away, his mind increasing going, not wanting to eat, no longer able to stand, shower or even go to the bathroom by himself really took it's toll. He hardly looked like the grandfather of my youth. I felt sorry for him, but there was nothing I could do to save him. I wanted to insulate him from the pain, restore his health and vitality. I prayed. I stayed. I cried. nothing was going to stop the inevitable. I knew it. The rest of the family knew it. All we could do was watch.
My grandfather died on Saturday, July 5th. That night was rough for my parents and I. About 10:30 or 11:00 Friday night, I called them. His blood pressure was very low. His breathing seemed almost non existent. His temperature was high. He hadn't had any urine output in almost three days. I thought the end was near. I gave him his liquid morphine and prayed and waited. The saddest, most heart wrenching thing was to listen to my mother, through her sobs, tell her father that it was okay to let go. That she would be okay. That it was okay to let the pain end. He hung on through the night. They left, exhausted. I stayed by his bedside till my mother returned the next morning at 7am.
I was exhausted, both emotionally and physically. I took the long way home to unwind. I took the dog out. Ate something, but can't remember what it was and went to bed. I glanced at the clock. It was 7:40am Saturday morning. I began my prayers. When I mentioned ending the suffering of my grandfather because he deserved better, the strangest, most peaceful feeling came over me briefly. I rolled over and went to sleep. At 8:10, my phone rang. I knew it was the phone call I didn't want, but I answered anyway. My grandfather, after his long life, his wrenching struggle to stay in this world was gone. He passed at 7:40 Saturday morning.