Ending The Cycle of Violence

As I lay here in my bed tonight, the largest thought looming in my mind is one of violence.  This last week, the world lost yet another woman to domestic violence.  A girl I went to high school with, but someone that I did not know.  A woman with a child.  A woman my exact age was viciously murdered by her husband.  A man that stood in front of God and made vows to protect and love and cherish her stabbed her to death in their home.  When asked why he did it, he responded that he was sick of her shit.  

Now there is a small child without either one of his parents.  A little boy who will have to grow up knowing that not only did he lose his mother too soon, but the story behind the loss.  He will never again be able to hold her hand or have her read him a bedtime story or hear her voice when he wakes up in the morning.  His children will never know the woman who would have been their grandmother.  Parents have lost their child.  Friends have lost someone who was by all accounts a bright light in their life.

And why?  For what?  When will the madness end?

Another friend was recently called out to help someone who had been savagely beaten by her boyfriend.  A man that she thought she could trust put her in the hospital.  Was there a sign of the monster behind the mask?  Was there a hint that he wasn't everything that he purported himself to be when they started dating?  Did she think that a few weeks later she would end up with broken bones, bruises and cuts and scars on the inside that will probably last her a lifetime.

This has to stop.  I don't want my own daughter to ever have to go through pain and agony at the hands of someone who claims to love her while he is putting bruises on her face or pushing her down a flight of stairs.  And maybe the only thing that I can do is to write about it, but at least it's a start.  A beginning.

So here is my story.  A story that begins the first time I remember being hurt by a man.  I was about seven years old and my sister and I were picking blackberries by the driveway to the house we lived in at the time.  As punishment, I was beaten with a leather belt until I could no longer stand.  By my stepfather.  Why?  I don't know.  But it didn't end there.  For years, we were hit.  Abused.  Hurt.  As a sophomore in high school, I was once hit so hard with a two by four that I ended up in the emergency room because he almost broke my arm with it.  By the time I was a junior, I had enough.  The last time he came after me, I kicked him in the jaw and almost broke it.  I told him that if he ever touched me again, I would have him put in jail.  I don't know where I found the strength to do that.  I was not only terrified of him, but I was afraid of what he would do to other members of my family.  I wish I could say that it was divine inspiration, but I think that at that point in my life, I didn't really care if I lived or died anymore.  I just knew that I couldn't live every day being afraid.

Since then, it would be nice to be able to say that I broke the cycle, but that would be a lie.  I have been physically, mentally and emotionally abused by men who have professed to love me.  The latter two most recently.  And I thought that it was my fault.  I let my children see me cry over a man that I thought loved me.  But how can someone love you and call you a whore and a slut and a bitch and any other combination of names that there are out there?  How could I, an intelligent successful, business-savvy woman allow a man to dictate my entire life to me?  How did I fall in that trap again?  

Not only did I fall, but I bought the bullshit hook, line and sinker.  I allowed someone else to make me feel inadequate.  I began to question myself.  I wondered if I really was the person that he made me out to be when he was angry with me.  I distanced myself from my friends and family and didn't tell them about all of the bad things because I was so embarrassed by them.  I was made to feel weak and impotent.  Like the world held nothing but bad things for me without him in it.  That I wasn't able to stand on my own two feet.  That I shouldn't really have this friend or that in my life.  That I shouldn't go do that because it reflected poorly on him.  That I should be with him every second of every day.  That he was the only person I needed.  Not my friends or my family.

While I did have moments of sanity, it seemed like every time I started to draw away and get out, I would get reeled right back in.  I would fall for the lines.  I would forgive him what really wasn't his fault in the first place.  After all, how could I be compassionate and not be forgiving?  How could I hold someone's childhood against him?  All of the lines and explanations served to undermine my own convictions and strengthen his position.

But in the end, I finally severed those ties.  I stopped the cycle of forgiving someone for something that they never regretted in the first place.  I stopped allowing myself to be used as an emotional punching bag.  Of course it was two years, a lot of words and emotions, a kick to my dog and the threatened murder of another pet later, but it finally sank in that I had to get out.  And really there is so much here that is better left unsaid.  Things that I don't even want to write about.  Feelings that I just can't let out yet because I don't want them to overwhelm me.

When I tell women to get out, I mean GET OUT!!!!  If you are afraid, trust those instincts.  Don't become another statistic.  Be strong.  Know that you really can turn to your friends and family without being ashamed.  There are places that you can go for help.  And you can always call 1-800-799-SAFE.  Especially if you think your computer use is being monitored.  

I did turn to friends.  They have held me while I have cried and had panic attacks.  They have talked me through those tears and fears and doubts and tough times.  And they have reassured me that I am strong.  It doesn't matter that I wasn't physically abused this time.  For me, I already knew I could survive the physical abuse.  It was the mental and emotional abuse that I didn't know how to walk away from.  And I think that predators sense your biggest weaknesses and fears and use them to their own advantage.

There are GOOD MEN out there.  I am not bitter.  Nor do I think that every man is evil.  Some of the greatest people in my life are men.  They are amazing friends, brothers, fathers and husbands.  They are not perfect, but they are good.  I have seen the men in my life grow over the years.  I have seen them overcome abuse in their own lives and I have seen them break the cycle as well.

I haven't cited anything that I have discussed, not because I don't want the attention turned in that direction, but because this is where I come to share my feelings.  Not to intrude on the private mourning time of others.

Just know, that a woman is not always stupid for not getting out.  It's easy to stand on the outside and judge her.  It's a lot harder to hold her hand and help pick up the pieces when she breaks.

So to all of the wonderful people out there who have helped a loved one through a time like this, I say thank you.  Thank you for being able to put your own feelings aside and stand by someone through the toughest time in their life.

Love and light,

Autumn

Daily Annoyances

I am supremely annoyed today.  With people.  Ignorant, rude people who have no sense of responsibility or self control.  

I always say that people tend to mistake my kindness for weakness, but if I know one thing, it is that I AM NOT WEAK!  When my back is to the wall, I will and do stand up for myself.  I try my best to be a good friend and to accommodate people.  Especially now when I have plenty of time on my hands and a lot of flexibility in my personal life.  But when people constantly abuse my good nature without apology, I start to get ticked off.  I don't have time in my life for fools or users.  People who constantly take from me and never give anything back. 

Now don't get me wrong.  I don't expect a lot from people.  But when I ask someone to do something very simple for me because I am changing things around in my schedule for them and they can't do one very simple little thing, I tend to get annoyed.  And when I get annoyed, I am not going to be returning your texts or doing you favors because you have shown me exactly where I stand in the importance rankings in your life.  I don't expect to come first with the people I care about, but I do expect them to acknowledge that I have gone out of my way to help them and be respectful of my time in return.

Learn some freaking manners.  I know that in today's day and age of constant communication with technology that it wouldn't take more than 5 seconds for you to do what I asked of you, so it's not like I was asking you to give me one of your kidneys.  

No one is completely altruistic.  And while I tend to try and do anything I can for my friends and family, I absolutely refuse to be friends with and care about people who take from me any longer.  You are off of my radar.  I am irritated as shit right now in case you can't tell.  With people in general, but a few people specifically.  And no, it's not you if you're reading this.  Trust me.

Why do people think that they can walk all over me?  Do I have "doormat" tattooed on my forehead or something?  Is there some kind of pheromone that I give off that makes you think that I am an easy target?  If not, maybe I should invent something.  I shall call it Eau de Dickhead and do my best to switch scents.

I have good people in my life.  People who actually do care about me and worry about MY health and well-being.  People who call me up for advice and who try and help me before I ever have to ask for it.  But it seems like there are always a few folks on the fringes of my life who are leeching off of me and I need to cut them out completely.  

I want to live in a bullshit free zone, which means that I need to flush those turds right down the toilet, wave goodbye and let the alligators in the sewers eat them.

Arghhhhhhh......

Goodnight, from an angry pirate.

Random Thoughts From the Drive In

Last night some I went to the local Drive In with my family and some great friends.  I hadn't been in years even though my city has one of the last remaining drive ins in the country.  I think there are less than 200 left.  After approximately 20 seconds, I remembered the million reasons why, like Wal Mart, I usually stay away from the Drive In Theater.

1. It makes me feel strangely good about myself - to the detriment of others in attendance.  I mean I have teeth, so right there I am a leg up on everyone else.
2. I once got caught having sex there in a Geo Metro hatchback.  I was 17 and ended up marrying the guy, but I am always afraid that someone working there is going to point at me and say "Hey remember that chick!  We busted her en flagrante delicto with a gearshift wedged in her ear.  Although she was a lot hotter at 17."  I shudder.
3. It's basically located at the edge of a swamp, so you are continuously barraged with giant blood-sucking mosquitos that are immune to all types of bug spray.  The city once bombed them with Agent Orange and all that did was piss them off, so I always walk away with about a pint less of O Positive than I had earlier in the night.
4. The people who built the Drive In, which I think was back when they called movies "talkies", did so in a very interesting location.  Right next to railroad tracks.  And the railroad is still alive and well.  At least in my city.  Because a train goes by like every ten minutes.
5. The bathrooms smell like cat piss.  Really.  It's worse than the gift shop at Hemingway's house of six-toed cats in Key West.  I think the urine has aged over time to a point where it is so pervasive, if you stay in the bathroom for more than a minute, you will die of asphyxiation.
6. Hillbillies.
7. The Drive In turns into a flea market on Sunday Mornings and I am always fearful that one of my kids will accidentally step on a hypodermic needle from some crack-head selling used McDonalds Happy Meal toys.
8. I end up eating the most disgusting things from the snack bar.  And then I spend Monday mornings sicking it all back up.
9. You don't have to bring your own chairs and blankets to a real movie theater.
10. I end up getting hit on by some freak, weirdo, pot-head who is there with his baby-mama and their 8 kids.  Really?  You are going to treat me like a princess?  Which one?  Princess Trashy McTrailerPark?

I guess now that I have trashed the Drive In, I should say something nice about it.  The only problem is, I really don't have anything nice to say.  And let's be honest.  If I went by that little gem about not saying anything if you have nothing nice to say, then I would have nothing to write about.

The only positive thing that I can really impart is that it's fun for the kids.  They really seem to enjoy being devoured by pigeon sized bugs, don't mind the constant noise from the trains and ignore the rest of the crap.  And the adults have fun chatting and laughing with each other.  

And when next year rolls around, I will conveniently forget all of the reasons why I don't go and will load up my car with chairs, blankets and illegal snack foods and go back.  Because?  It's tradition.  

Well, tradition and good material for writing.

Love,

Autumn

Complicated

I think that sometimes, people make their lives more complicated than they need to be.  Actually, I think that MOST of the time many of the issues that we have in our daily lives come as a result of our own insecurities, weaknesses or fears.

I know, from personal experience, that I don't always take the comments of other people in the manner that they were meant to be delivered.  I allow my past experiences to color my new experiences with a dirty paintbrush.  I have been trained, Pavlovian style, to take the smallest nuance in someone's tone and twist it into something negative, fearful that whatever it is that they are saying is in some way a reflection of my inability as a person to be what they want me to be.  But as the saying goes, "I'ma be me."  

Yes, I have been writing a lot about the changes that I am making as a person and the growth that I want to achieve, but I've been writing for four years now (well three really, since I went a fucking entire year without writing because of another person, but that's a different topic) and what I have learned about my writing in that time is that I can write what I want, when I want and I really don't give a fuck all who reads it.  I love to write.  Whether I am rambling incoherently about some assjack hillbilly that lives across the street from me or I am revising my self-help mantra on a daily basis, the people who happen to click on my link looking for Sangria Recipes (most popular by the way) or are trying to live out some Hooters fetish can read whatever the hell I feel like writing.

But I am off subject now.  Shit.  How the hell does this happen?

Anyway.  Oh yeah, complications.  So I have let things become more complicated than they should in some aspects of my life.  From my own fears and worries and because my head was so messed up that I couldn't see what was right in front of my face.

One thing that I refuse to do is be a "complication" for another person.  I will not allow someone else to make me feel bad because they are too busy trying to be hard and strong and tough to see that instead of complicating their life, I could be enhancing it.  Interpersonal relationships are fraught with potential pitfalls every single freaking day.  Because?  People tend to be complicated.  It's part of our DNA makeup.  We are highly aware beings who tend to think a lot.  So when someone tells me that I am complicated or making things complicated for them, whether it is a friend, family member, my dog, the mailman, a business associate or the fly that I can't get to leave my bathroom, I tend to get a little bit pissed off.  I try my hardest to make things easier for people.  And if having me in your life stresses you out that much, then you can piss off.  I don't need it.  I have plenty of friends and people who love me and I don't need some emotionally retarded infant that I need to baby and dote on without asking for anything in return in my life.  So go get uncomplicated elsewhere.  I am a good friend and a good person and I think I would rather be called a bitch than complicated.  It's fucking redundant.  

We are all complicated.  We are all intricate.  We all have needs and wants and while some of us may try and repress our feelings, I will not be some little automaton who just walks around with an aimless smile on my face, happy to be led like a show pony.  If having feelings makes me complicated, then I will take that too, because at least I have more depth than a kiddie pool that way.

In fact, the more that I think about it, the more ticked off I am getting.  Really?  Complicated?  Do you watch the news?  Do you want to live in some cookie cutter, Edward Scissorhands world where everyone has the same house and the same job and no problems and a smile on their face every day?  That's just fucking creepy.  It freaks me out when people go all Stepford on me.  The ones who walk around smiling all day are usually the ones that have the most problems behind closed doors.  And yes, I am cynical by nature thankyouverymuch.

I really am not going anywhere with this.  Just flitting about, trying to get my thoughts together because I went out of my way today to help someone out and was insulted for the effort.  And my dad always tells me that I need to be more closed off to people.  Not as trusting.  But I do and have disagreed with him deeply about that.  If I shut myself off, or change that part of me, then I am no longer being true to who I am.  The person that I have been for most of my life.  

I went on vacation to see one of my sisters last month and she said "I finally have my sister back."  That alone is a good indicator that I am heading in the right direction and that I shouldn't change the key elements of who I am because it's the reason that the people who love me, love me.

On another note, I just found out that you can get Botox for your asshole.  That's kind of ironic when you really think about it.

Smoochies.

Autumn 

A Strong Person

A friend sent me something yesterday and part of the message was this:

A strong person knows how to keep their life in order. Even with tears in their eyes, they still manage to say "I'm ok" with a smile.

It came after a pretty tough morning.  After another blow.  And it started me thinking about how I'm holding on and keeping it together.  

The answer varies.  Constantly.

Some days I seem to be OK and then there are the other days.  The days when the hits just keep on coming.  Where nothing I do seems to go right.  Where I go out of my way for other people, just to get kicked in the teeth.  The days where it feels like I will never smile or laugh again.

So when someone calls me up to see how I'm doing or texts me or e-mails me words of encouragement....  well, it just makes my day a little bit brighter.

My grandmother used to always tell me that God never gives us more than we can handle.  I'm not sure whether that's true or not, but I like to think that I can be strong enough to not only handle it, but do it with a smile through my tears.

Reach out to someone today who needs it.  Take an extra minute to just call a friend or loved one on the phone and tell them that it will be OK.  Sometimes that's all we need to make our day better.

All of my love,

A

Life Lessons

Wow!  This weekend has been a whirlwind of learning.  

First of all, I have learned that wrecking your brand new car really, really, really sucks.  Thank God I wasn't seriously injured.  I could have gotten really upset and freaked out and stayed in that state for weeks on end.  But I am not and I will not be that kind of person any longer.  Things could have ended up so much worse for me, but there is a reason that they are called accidents.  There is a reason that I pay my insurance premiums.  And there is a reason why I was in that place, at that time when I had my accident.  

I am trying to focus on the fact that the only thing that got hurt was my car, some property and my pride.  I have never been in a car accident like this before and I pray I will never be in one like it again.  I could have been seriously injured or even killed, but I had some major angels around me yesterday during the accident and a human angel around me afterwards.

Secondly, I learned that you can make friends from the oddest situations.  I mean, completely twilight zone kind of odd.  But I feel very blessed because not only was I able to make amends, but I was able to become friends with one of the most beautiful, strong people I have ever met in my life.  I hope to soak up some of this person's strength and know that I too can make it through some of my darkest times, because that is what that person did as well.  

Finally, I learned that not only am I not alone, but I am surrounded by others who have been in, or are in the same or similar situations as I am.  Because this is MY blog, I have the freedom to write about what I want when I want, but I also have a responsibility to readers who reach out to me to share their stories and I would never betray them.  What I will say is that there are quite a few people out there who have been through what I have and that validation alone gives me hope for the future.

I am sure that not all of this makes sense and I am just recapping a lot of it for my own benefit.  But if there is one thing that I hope the three people who read this take away, it is that no matter what, you can always reach out to me and I will be there for you.  I hope that you are being genuine with your problems and issues because I will certainly be genuine back to you.  I can't ever tell you what to do in your life, but I will say something very important right now:

IF YOU ARE EVER AFRAID FOR YOUR WELL BEING IN A RELATIONSHIP - GET OUT.

NOW.

DO NOT STOP AND QUESTION OR SECOND GUESS YOURSELF.  THERE IS A REASON THAT WE AS HUMANS EVOLVED INTO HIGHLY INSTINCTIVE CREATURES.  LISTEN TO THE VOICE THAT IS TELLING YOU TO RUN AND TAKE THE FUCK OFF.

On a lighter note, I had a two hour guitar lesson from my dad tonight.  It was awesome, but I am really confused.  I can, however, play a total of three chords, so it was definitely educational.

All my love,

A

Blow Job Olympics

I've recently taken to texting a friend some of the random little nuggets of insanity that pop up in my head from time to time.  No pattern, no explanation, but funny.  At least to us.

Her favorite line is "I never claimed to be a slut in this life!"  Which is a pretty funny line, but today, while driving to a baseball game, I managed to come up with one that is even better.

"If giving blow jobs was a sport, I'd be a gold medalist."

Now, I'm not saying anything about myself.  Necessarily.  I'm just saying that the thought managed to seep its way into my consciousness.

But really, when you think about it, the idea has merit.  I mean it takes talent, enthusiasm, imagination and flexibility to really pull off a good one.  In fact, a few months ago, a friend and I had the opportunity to hang out with a pretty famous comedian after one of his sets.  While we were talking the question of how to sustain a marriage came up - the friend was a newlywed.  And without missing a beat, I said "learn to love giving head."  And I meant it.  You can't look at it as something you HAVE to do.  You have to enjoy yourself.  Your partner can certainly tell the difference and it works the same for women and men.  Regardless of who is on the receiving end, if the giver isn't into it, it really doesn't work.

What do I know though?  It's not like I'm the poster girl for solid relationships, married or otherwise, but I really like the thought.  Maybe it's because I recently watched "Old School" for like the four hundred and seventy second time, but that scene with Andy Dick really stands out.  Not only is it hilarious, but it makes sense.  Learning how to please your partner should really end up pleasing you both.  And I think that anything worth doing is worth doing really, really, really well.

So where does this bring us?  I have no freaking clue.  I'm just rambling right now, trying to make sense of my upside-down world.  

Still.......  Think about it.  When was the last time that you threw yourself into anything with passion and abandon?  When was the last time you really wanted to please someone else without worrying about how you were benefiting from the act?  

Maybe these are just random life lessons for myself.  Maybe the strange things that pop into my head should really stay in my head where they belong.  But fuck it.  I remember when I started writing this blog.  It was a place for me to put those random thoughts.  I place where I could write anything I wanted and not have to worry about other people reading it and taking offense.  Right now, I could give two shits who I offend.  This is for me and about me.  And yes, it's a little hypocritical since I am talking about doing things for others selflessly, but this is still my outlet.  I stopped writing for a year.  A whole year.  Because I was afraid that I would get shit from someone else about what I was writing.  Who I was writing about.

But now, I am free.  Free to do what I want, when I want without the fear of the cycling insanity that used to be my life.  So if I want to write about blow jobs or circus clowns or marrying my cat, I will.  And nobody can stop me because I answer to two people.  Me and Jesus.  And I'm pretty sure HE has more important things to worry about than fellatio.

Good night and good lovin'.

A