Who's life am I actually living? And if not mine, then a lie.

NOTE:  For anyone new, there's a list of links in the menu column to my other blogs.  I try to keep things specific to whichever blog I'm posting in.. something that was requested/suggested of/to me sometime back.  So if you're like some of the people I know who read understand that the conversation often, though not always, changes from one to the next.  I've made my rounds today, and will be going back to post again in most as I have a bit of catching up to do.

The beautiful thing about being oneself is the notion that you're living your own personal truth.  It doesn't matter if anyone agrees with you or your choices because living truthfully means making no apologies.  Not that bad behavior isn't part of anyone's truth, because as humans we fall far short of being or living perfectly.  Living truthfully really only means that, right wrong or indifferent, all successes and failures, even mistakes... are at the very least completely honest in nature.

I'm not going to talk here about human error that results in hurting someone's feelings, etc.  What I want to focus on is the natural result of living someone else's life.  Some of the deepest wounds ever come from betraying yourself.  I know, because I've done it.

Never allow yourself to be manipulated.  The trick here is to know when you are.  Some people are quite gifted in the art of manipulation and it's only after the damage is done and the sting sets in that you realize what's happened.  Even then, you may only have a guess, because recognition is often difficult and require insight and assistance to fully recognize the culprit.  This also happened in my case.

What is it like to live a lie?

Your subconscious will know and often react much in the same way that you react when your hand accidentally touches a hot pan handle.  You recoil instantly, only inwardly from the immediate danger, and the pain burns on long after you've countered and reacted instinctively.  I believe this is why we often keep reaching for that same hot handle again---because we haven't actually recognized what it is we've done and that it's caused not only pain.. but also damage.  So, we reach again.

From my perspective and experience this same, harmful experience repeats itself endlessly until we finally see what's causing the hurt, the pain, the discomfort.  We're outside of ourselves at this point, feeling the pain, seeing the damage, but unable to comprehend that our own actions are to blame.  That realization, by the way, comes when it comes.  We either see it or we don't and we don't until we do.  This is different for everyone, of course.

I find myself once again in that same perpetual, ongoing and damaging loop of living through someone else's ideals, wants, needs, views, demands, rules, and so on.  And it's not working now just as it didn't work in the past.  This feeling, at the moment, is like not being able to breathe or move, like being bound and gagged and placed in a dark room where my experiences are only ones injected into the dark by another.  This is what living a lie is like.  At least for me.

As I find myself pushing aside my needs as a human being, natural thoughts, opinions, instincts, interests, etc. while adapting that of another, for their comfort, the damage is evident.  Only this time I'm unable to simply allow what isn't me to fall away so I can heal and return to my own life, my own genuine self, my truth.  Reconciling this is damn hard, I'll be honest.

All those things I enjoy, want, dream of, hope for and need are cemented beneath the very solid ground on which another stands.  It's not pre-meditated, but it is a form of oppression.  I've been here before and the result wasn't pretty at all.  I healed, mostly, but the scars are deep, distinct, and still tender.  But at least I know they're there, why they're there.

This is my struggle yet again, fighting to always remember who and what I am while being basically forced to live through someone else's life.  It's a very slippery slope.

Regaining my health and my strength is CRITICAL right now.  There's no respite from this, really.  No decompression chamber where I'm free to just be who I am and take care of myself the way that is positively vital to my well-being.

.... More later.  At the moment the pain demands I give it attention.

When I'm without words, music....

When I'm without words, music...

Waning Patience.

Patience used to be one of my strong points, though that doesn't mean that under certain circumstances that I didn't have my patience tested, sometimes to the extreme.  And it's okay to lose one's patience now and then, because shoving emotions down only makes for a more emotional outcome/reaction later on.  I'm all about being honest with emotions, not burying them so they rise later as a twisted, overblown version of themselves.

But what happens when you're with someone who either beats you down emotionally (or physically as in some cases) for feeling, expressing or sharing those feelings?  After a time one of two things will happen: Either you will suppress your feelings to a self-damaging degree, or you will become very reactive as the bruises are poked and prodded on a regular basis.  And that's putting it mildly.

Long ago, as a child, I learned to not express anger.  Kids are taught, as we all know, that losing your temper or expressing anger isn't a good thing.  Well, for the most part this is true.  We have to learn to express our feelings in a controlled manner when possible.  Some situations do warrant not holding everything back.  However, when people teach children to NOT express anger there is a very real possibility, a very strong one, that the child will grow up suppressing anger, and many go on to suppressing most, if not all, emotions/feelings.  This is a disaster in the making.

I learned quickly that expressing anger AND sadness was a punishable "crime."  Whether the punishment was shaming, guilting, being sent to my room, grounded, scolded, etc... it didn't matter, because the outcome was always the same---negative feedback.  This did a lot of damage and I'm still trying to get past that damage, to heal and feel whole again.  It's not easy, I'll tell you, and I wish my mom would've had the foresight and intuition to teach me to FEEL while learning healthy ways to EXPRESS those feelings.

With each relationship I got into I became a huge sponge that absorbed everything that was thrown at me.  Every unkind and hateful word, every mean-spirited criticism, every joke about me in which I was always the punch line (a treasured abuse by narcissists, btw), even the stonewalling became something I took on as a part of myself.  No wonder I'm broken.

My relationships became an extension of my experiences with my mom, with almost ALL of them carrying on the hurtful legacy I would carry and eventually be crushed by later in my life.  My choices in men weren't the smartest, and I'm willing to admit that I didn't SEE or recognize what I was doing until just a few years ago.

The relationship I'm in now is more than trying, to put it mildly.  T isn't an 'abuser,' but he's simply, more often than not, just not here.  The blatant absence, even in his presence, is a perfect reflection of yet another favored 'punishment' met out by my mother, the indifference and tuning-out being the most painful of things, damaging in their deliverance and painful as a well-delivered punch, maybe even more so.

My days are brought with not being heard, not listened to, with even the smallest gesture of respect something I rarely receive from this guy who claims to 'love' me.  Communication is a nightmare in which I can never wake it seems.  At nearly batting 100 at this point, T literally hears perhaps the last couple of words in a sentence or phrase, often not even acknowledging that I had spoken.  Repeating myself constantly has become a stress I no longer want to have, so I rarely initiate conversation with him for this reason.

My past is laden with such things, though of a darker and more abusive nature.  While I didn't recognize it at the time my entire being was being eroded in such a way that I would only see the situation for what it was only after my spirit was broken.  Even into this relationship the insidious nature of that erosion of self continues to make itself known and without any hint of what can heal what is still an open wound.  That's okay for now, though, because if I can recognize what's happening I can eventually find a way out, to allow healing even if it's in small, minuscule measures.

I have a confession to make.  This whole 'not being heard' thing has worn me to the bone, leaving my capacity for patience wanting, to say the least.  Yes, Prednisone in my system, and even in its exit from my system brings with it moodiness as it doesn't allow anymore for the cortisol (the anti-stress hormone) to swoop in and save the day.  There is only what is in my system artificially until my adrenal glands wake up and being doing their job at full capacity; the waiting totally sucks, I promise you.

Being within 2 feet of T and not being heard is something I'm not okay with anymore.  I don't have the desire to repeat every sentence or word every day of my life.  I just have no desire or energy for such a thing, and it makes communication enormous work and a frustrating endeavor that I've lost almost all interest in.  I find myself in tears as T is the only person I'm around these days, and the realization that I'm so at his mercy while he HAS no mercy is staggering in its significance when it comes to my life and my health.

This is not a situation all that unfamiliar to me.

I've been down this road before, only the terrain looks a little different.  Being sick, having major health issues arise (such as a TIA, which I had in 2013) and having someone in my life who was indifferent, 'put-out' by my being sick, having my emotions, self-esteem and body pushed beyond any reasonable limit damaged my health--both physical and emotional.  This was on a far, far greater scale than anything I'd ever experienced in my life and mostly due to my not understanding what it was I was dealign with.  I know now, of course, but it's not of any help at the moment.  I'm at T's mercy, totally, so when I try to talk about anything, especially the most important things and am tuned-out to the point where I'm literally talking to myself... I admit... it's brought me to tears over the last week or so.  I'm too weak, to tired, and way too sick to be able to handle this in any healthy fashion.

Yesterday was so incredibly hard.  I spent most of the day in bed, covered up, dealing with a tuned-out T to freezing one moment and overheating the next.  It was just too much at one time, and I didn't handle it well.  I fight to get out of bed every day, to try yet one more time while embracing the hope that today will be the day I feel better and more like myself.  It's all I have.  Yet my day was spent in bed yesterday for the most part because I was unable to find any motivation to even so much as sit upright and watch tv.  There's a lot of details I'm not adding, but I honestly don't have the energy to type much more than I have.

All I know is that history is somewhat repeating itself, and the damage from the past is fusing with the damage from the present, leaving me spent, depressed, and defeated.

It's really all I know right now...

Respect Revisited.

It's one of the single most important traits a person can have; the ability to extend TRUE respect to another human being.  It's a taught skill, one that is vital to getting along with others on this planet.  Yes, those "duh" statements seem redundant because everyone is supposed to understand, and yet what I find these days is that most people have either discarded respect, or were never taught it to begin with.  Either way, gone are the days when I allow myself to be disrespected by others.

This topic is one I revisit when relevant.  I'm living in a situation where disrespect has become the order of the day from T.  I've talked to him, explained, begged and pleaded for him to SEE and UNDERSTAND what he does and how it affects me.  He says he gets it yet returns to the disrespectful pattern of behavior almost immediately.

Disrespect changes how I feel about people.  Abuse, mental and physical change how I feel about people.  Meaning, if you're going to disrespect and/or abuse me you will cease to be someone I want to be around, someone I admire, someone I love.  I'm not including family in this because that's a whole other situation.  If my sons disrespected me, which they don't, I would still love and admire them.  When it comes to relationships---sorry, disrespect and abuse, hatefulness and meanness simply don't cut it for me.  Eventually your abuses, disrespect, etc... will reveal you for who you are, and I will ultimately fall out of love with you.

T isn't abusive, but he is disrespectful.  If he says something mean or hurtful he usually apologizes and means it.  But apologies for the indifference, disrespect, etc... fall on deaf ears and leave me cold inside.  He's really killing my feelings for him--and yes, he knows this.

My past history, as you guys know, have been fraught with abuses and disrespect.  I endured a lot for the sake of what I thought was love.  The confusion of someone being hateful and abusive to me while claiming to love me has taught me much, and it's also left me with many questions yet to be answered.  I've been lucky in that there've only been a couple of relationships that have left me questioning what romantic love is.  And I say 'romantic love' because, again, that's a very different thing than love for family or friends.

My past colors my present.  It is what it is and in many ways this has left me at a crossroads of what I want and need, and what I have.  I don't really have a definition of love anymore outside of my faith.  Romantic love is fragile, and most of the time it's temporary.  Whether someone falls out of love and moves on, or whether that love deepens into something more deep, stable, and abiding remains to be seen in the early days of the relationship.  And that deep, abiding love is the stuff that keeps people together and happy for many, many years.  Not that it guarantees a perfect relationship or perfect life or perpetual bliss--it absolutely doesn't.  But that kind of love is what makes getting past the hard parts possible.

That kind of love is what makes getting past the hard parts possible.

I don't know why people tend to go into relationships EXPECTING so much without any wiggle room.  Destined to fail, those relationships put under that amount of stress and pressure will ultimately fail.  It's been proven.  So why do people do this if it's going to only end in chaos and separation?  The quick answer: Not all people do this.

Control freaks are those who ultimately end up destroying a relationship.  And by that I mean those who have an incessant need to control EVERYTHING about the relationship AND the person they're with.  If someone is trying to change everything about you, that relationship you have with them will eventually end, because it will become too hurtful, too harmful to you to stay in.  And it's unhealthy to stay in relationships like that.

Then you have someone like me who's had an emotionally-abusive childhood, who didn't have the benefit of a healthy, plugged-in mom, or a father around for any part of development.  I didn't have the best teacher as to what to pick in terms of a partner.  A boyfriend, a husband... doesn't matter.  My choices have been mostly bad.  Mostly.

I'm going to have to finish this at a later date.  I'm feeling very sick today and can't continue to sit at the computer....

To be continued....

When Past Experiences Fade.

What I've found is that our past really does change us.  It doesn't change WHO we are, per se, but it certainly changes how we think and how we approach familiar, yet uncomfortable, situations in the future.  Once the damage is done it's done.  We can seek counseling, religion, friends or family to aid in the healing process, but we can't change the scars that remain once the healing is complete.  And this is IF the healing is complete.  Some of us never quite reach that level of healing, unfortunately.

I'm not going to say I'll never heal from my past unfortunate experiences, and I totally accept the fact that the scars are there for a reason; We can't wish or hope or anger them away.  And why would we?

For me, the damage left by awful experiences of past relationships aren't always apparent or noticeable.  With each day's accomplishments and trials the past may be readily in focus or blurred beyond recognition.  My mind only calls up what it needs, or what it believes is relevant.  Is it always actually relevant?  Of course not, so it's up to me to determine what's what and act accordingly.  For example, being disrespected usually brings past experiences readily to the forefront.  It is what it is.  And during those times when the ugly parts of the past fades... I don't question the opacity of the lens I'm viewing through but accept the gift and move through my day.

The past doesn't always color my world, and I'll take the blurry days over the stark reality of the scars left from an emotionally-violent past.  Today is one of those blurry days, and I'm grateful for that little gift.  But it doesn't mean I've forgotten.  There isn't any way I can forget.

I remember because of the scars.  I remember because I'm not lost on the value of the lesson.  I remember because those memories, painful as they are, keep me in-check much like the painful burn of a flame that makes us pull back before too much harm is done.  I remember because I'm supposed to.

The sum of me, all the parts that make up the whole, is only whole when I'm aware.  I can't bury or ignore those dark experiences that hurt and changed me no more than I can bury or ignore those great experiences that made my spirit soar to amazing heights, that inspired me.  Acceptance is healing, and it's a place I can thrive in.

It's time for me to sign off.  I'm cold, tired, and it's time to just heal a little while.....

Out of My Hands.

This isn't the first time someone has sought to control me.  One big difference with the previous experience with a control freak is that, this time, it's not as much abusive as damaging in more insidious ways.  While I strive for better health, reaching for remission of this AIH, striving to lift myself above the miserable effects of illness and its treatments, I find this mountain I have to climb isn't of my own making, and I wonder often... how the hell did I get here?

Point blank--when someone is dealing with health issues that REQUIRE certain dietary changes you just don't go against better judgment, advice, and information.  With everything I'm dealing with, with my BP skyrocketing into stage 4 hypertension (brought about by Prednisone, I'm told), you don't hand that person a bag of salty chips and walk away.  This is basically what T is doing.

How do you "Forget" something so important?  The deep-seated indifference has become a danger to my health now, and given that I can't even so much as walk across a parking lot, much less through a grocery store, I'm completely at T's mercy here.  I can't walk, stand, or do anything without excruciating pain in my back---something they've not gotten to the bottom of.  All we know so far, due to an MRI, is that it's NOT spina-related.  AI or what, then?  Doesn't matter at this point.  What matters is that I do the things I'm supposed to do to get myself well, healed, and healthy again.  And the one person who has most of the control has chosen to disregard even the doctor's advice.  WTH??

Bringing home everything I'm not supposed to eat.  Salt, sugar, junk, processed foods, and deciding that a piece of meat for dinner is somehow healthy... I simply don't understand.  I have to eat more vegetables and fruit, yet I can't stand at a counter long enough to make salad.  Ugh.  It's exhausting even talking about it at this point because I'm weak and having trouble thinking.  Where is this going to leave me in the end?  Destroying my health one meal at a time is what's happening now, and I have no idea what to do about it.

I've been here before, though it was much much worse.  Getting 'sick,' even with the cold or flu, wasn't allowed.  And if I DID get sick, or if something was making me less-than healthy or energetic, I was treated like garbage and made to feel horrible for 'daring' to get sick to begin with.  Back then, just a few short years ago, I had no idea I was dealing with THREE heart arrhythmias AND an autoimmune disease that was trying to destroy my liver.  I didn't have health insurance, and the clinic I went to wasn't aggressive with testing for most things.  All I knew is that I didn't feel well or was very sick and tired and hurting a lot of the time, something that my ex wasn't on board with.

You find out quickly who cares for you when you become sick.  Trust me on this.

This time around I'm with someone who emphatically claims to love me, care for me, and tells me I'm the most important person in his life.  He volunteers this information---I don't ask for it.  My last relationship taught me to not trust people, anyone in fact.  Maybe one day I'll get past that.  Maybe not.  I have no idea.  So when T tells me he loves me then sets out to undermine my attempts at healing and obtaining better health... it makes me not trust him, or his motives.  Echoes of the recent past have come back to haunt me, laying waste to so much I've strived to overcome.

I guess I have to accept the fact that in many regards this whole thing is out of my hands.  As long as I'm too sick, too weak, and too painful (lower back) to fend for myself 100%... I'm vulnerable and at the mercy of another.  And for the second time in my life the people who I'm at the mercy of don't really have my best interests at heart.  Well, T does... but fails to remember what's needed and necessary for me to recover.  I really don't know how to take that.

I'm heading to the other room here in a few minutes, my retreat, my decompression chamber.  The day is somewhat overcast, which will make rest and relaxation a bit easier.  There's something soothing in cloudy days.  While I need and want and love those sunny days, the clouds are still welcomed from time to time.

Another Day of Repetition.

I can't begin to tell you how frustrating it is to have to repeat everything I say, all day, every day.  If the room is dead-silent, if I'm a few inches away from T... I still have to repeat everything I say.  It's gotten to the point where I refuse to repeat anything and choose to let the chips fall where they may, the consequences of not listening/tuning out what he needed to hear.  It's a lot like talking to a child, and I'm experiencing an emotional and physical exhaustion that defies description.  My health isn' the only thing taking me out at the knees these days.

Respect is an everyday issue for me--getting respect that is.  I find it difficult to have a conversation with someone who is off in another world and on another planet entirely.  These days, I rarely bother to begin a conversation because of the hassle that's all but guaranteed.  I'm not trying to be mean or insensitive when I do this, and my goal is to reduce the stress and anxiety involved with having to repeat my words over and over again, no matter what the situation or how important the message.

Don't think for a minute that I don't understand that there are times when 'not hearing' someone is justifiable.  I've been there myself and know what it's like to have someone withdraw or become ugly in response.  I understand human nature enough to know that shit happens and we're not always on the ball as we would like to be.  Given that, a distracted person isn't always someone who's tuned-out.

Tuning someone out comes from a place inside that has reduced the importance of the person speaking.  I've had it done to me, and I've no intention to do that to anyone who's tuning me out (including T).  I do expect some effort, though, and after 2 years of this behavior it's time to admit there's a problem.  Accepting responsibility for that problem is also an issue for T, which means this tuning-out habit is getting worse and worse, and it's now to the point of intolerable.

Keeping things to myself; while not always easy, it is necessary.  However, it is getting easier and easier to just not speak to him about anything at all.  My recent past has taught me much, and most of what I learned while in the throes of disrespect, chaos, and out-right bullying and emotion abuse, etc. is that I don't HAVE to lower my standards when it comes to how people treat me.  "I" get to choose who I keep in my life, and it's up to me to stand up for myself when I'm not being treated with respect.  Action on my part is warranted, and I recognize my roll in how people treat me.  I've grown stronger in this respect; stronger, but not perfect.  I'm getting there, though.

We'll see how this day progresses...

We'll see.

Because I Can!

It's inevitable, isn't it?  Social networking is like trying to have a picnic beneath a buzzing hornets nest.  We know the situation is precarious, especially when so many have now succumbed to chronic butt-hurt, and yet we persevere, post to our little heart's content, and laugh at the wrath some things inspire from unstable people.  We try to understand, and some will try to edit what they post in order to 'keep down the drama.'  Thing is, the drama is on their side, not ours.  I mean, getting bent out of shape over what someone posts is a lot like being offended by the furniture in your neighbor's house... and saying so.  It's rude, and it's inappropriate.

So why do people do it if it's just going to stir up trouble?  Well, the answer to the question is in the question itself.  Some people are addicted to drama, and you can spot them readily because they'll be the ones complaining constantly, and in their passive/aggressive manner, about everyone else's "drama."  I know you guys have seen this.

I'm always a little amazed, watching them melt-down, lose control, judge others for speaking their minds, all the while trying desperately trying to blur the line between 'victim' and 'bully.'  Know the type I'm talking about?  These are the people who will call you an idiot while claiming they're above such behavior.

It's perplexing.

Here's the thing: Social networking doesn't come with a carte blanche card to attack other people's views, etc.  You have a choice to keep going if you see a post you don't like, and most stable, intelligent people will do just that.  And yes, there are exceptions, such as someone outright attacking, bullying, posting personal or sensitive information about you, etc.  I mean, by all means.. call them out on it if they do that, and be sure to block their sorry asses when you're done.  Nobody likes a bully.

Now, you also have to practice what you preach.  I choose not to comment if I don't like something, and I refrain when possible the urge to behave in passive/aggressive ways.

I personally don't believe we should censor our speech just to make other people more comfortable.  DO know that I'm NOT including bullying in this, because that will NEVER be okay.  Not ever.  But outside of bullying, we can say what we want, given it's within keeping with said SN TOS.

My personal experience in this current political climate has been that the chronically butt-hurt come out in force when I post something that isn't in keeping with their own views.  One person in particular has taken to some very nasty commenting on posts he doesn't agree with, and often it's simply posts in support of who my chosen presidential candidate is.  Now why would anyone have to vomit nastiness on a positive post?  Who knows?  Who cares?  My posts on my page aren't open to bullying and nastiness.  I will either delete your posts or block you.  Enough is enough.  For the record, I've not yet blocked this other person, but that could change quickly after today's nastiness.

When has free speech turned into 'free to bully'?  I don't have the answer to this question either, but maybe it's more a rhetorical reference than anything else.  Either way, some people really don't understand how stubborn I can be when it comes to another trying to control what I do, how I think, how I feel, and so on.  Yeah, I can assure you.. you really don't want to poke the bear like that.

Bullying doesn't work on me, and you'll find quite the opposite response than what you hope for.  But then, I think these types of drama queens actually WANT the drama, which is why they spend SO much time tossing insults.  Why else would they do it if that's the only payoff?

So today this person went on a rant, tossing in character assassination remarks and such, and quite a few at that.  But the main complaint is that he didn't want to see political posts and actually stated that if you're posting more than 2-3 per day that your friends are "Fucking sick of you."  Well, what he thinks was a clever cut down and shaming tactic I see only as a challenge, and one I accepted right off.  Today is going to be a day when the political posts will continue.. all.. day.. long.

I don't give in to bullies, who are really just cowards anyway.  My page, my posts, and anyone who doesn't like it can click the 'unfollow' or 'unfriend' button!  You can't bully me.  You can't censor me.  And you can't control me.

Challenge me, and you may be surprised at my response.  And remember, you can't un-ring that bell.

I also practice what I preach: if I see a post I don't like... I move on.  Having the restraint to NOT react is empowering, because when you do as that other person did today you show weakness, an inability to control your own emotions and behavior.  Why would anyone willingly do that?  There are venues outside of social media to air your grievances if needed.  Hell, I have blogs where I can speak my mind and get things off my chest WITHOUT drawing attention to the person I may be talking about.  Having been at the receiving end of abuse and character assassination I choose to refrain from going down that road if possible.  But I assure you, I'm NOT afraid to stand up for myself; that's a completely different thing altogether anyway.

As they say... haters gonna hate. ;p

the invisibility of being.

Throughout my life I've been pretty thin-skinned, listening to others tell me what I should/shouldn't be, what and how I should think, do, say, dream... developed into an art form for me that damn near reached "Spidey Power" status.  No, seriously.  I would take and wear whatever anyone projected upon me like a shiny pair of Jimmy Choo's.  And trust me when I say that two-sizes too small absolutely made a difference in how I felt and carried myself through life.

Barefoot is better.  Know what happens when you go barefoot the majority of the time?  The soles of your feet get pretty damn tough.  Having grown up poor I had only one pair of shoes (cheap) at a time and wasn't really allowed to wear them outside if I were just playing in the yard, etc.  They had to last until my mom decided we could afford more.  I think I had the toughest feet of anyone I've ever known because of this.  The only thing that really hurt me was if I stepped on glass (which I did a few times, once landing me in the ER to have the glass removed), and when that California asphalt and concrete got hot enough to fry an egg on.  Even so, over time walking barefoot didn't bother me one single bit.

But what about the INSIDE?  Oh, but that was a whole different story altogether.  I couldn't walk my way through through the pain to being 'thick-skinned' and pretty much felt the weight of anything and everything that was said to me.  Criticism became truth, a 'reality' handed to me that I willingly took.  My childhood experiences weren't filled with encouragement or praise nor even helpful criticism.  Indifference and criticism, and many times complete withdrawal of love and affection were the tools used to shape the person I would become.

I was to become the child who survived.

In adulthood, that small child I once was is alive, and though not well, that part of me is AWARE.  There is still a disconnection of who 'that little girl' was and who I am now, and I still see photos of when I was little and feel such pity for 'that little girl.'  Yes, I know it's me, of course.  But the disconnection is still there just the same.  I want SO much to apologize to her and say "I'm sorry I didn't protect you!"

I've accepted this disconnection as a part of who I am, but I don't like it one single bit.  C'est la vie.

I remain thin-skinned, but my reaction to criticism, disrespect, and so forth is very different now.  I've allowed history to repeat itself in relationships I've had, and the reality of this has unprecedented tenure, so it would seem.  It will be with me the rest of my life.  Okay.  I'll just have to work around that when possible, right?

So here I am all grown up and stuff.  I can make decisions, change my mind, and walk away from anyone or anything that threatens my happiness; such are the benefits of being an adult.  Right?  Well, not exactly.  At least not for me.  That subconscious, that inner child, the child I actually WAS at one time so long ago, well.. she has a mind of her own and remembers the pain, the isolation, the indifference, the coldness, the invisibility of being... well, me.

Such memories carry over for the long-haul and map the course of life in often undesirable ways.  But it doesn't always have to be like that.  I can do more to help myself in that respect.  And I do.

On bad days, of which I have far too many these days, that inner child is the one who suffers most.  Sure, I feel the physical pain, and I feel the isolation of my situation and all it invokes (depression, anxiety, etc).  But it's what happens INSIDE that changes my world, my life.  All I can do is anesthetize myself with too much coffee, reading, and way too much television.  My physical body simply refuses to allow much more these days.  That's okay, because eventually the AIH and the 'possible' Myositis, both autoimmune, is driving the bus now, and not even my inner child can rebel against that and affect change.

Sitting here in the quiet, drinking coffee, talking about things I've not talked with a single other human being about...well, but for one therapist for a very short time, I can definitely say I recognize my life as it was, and as it still is; The invisibility of being... me.

Family--Beating My Head Against the Wall

To say I come from a dysfunctional family is putting it mildly.  Further back than my own memory reaches my siblings have hated me.  No, really, I'm not making this up or being dramatic.  I don't talk about this much because it brings a lot of sadness and discomfort, anger and resentment rushing to the surface.  It's a long story, really, and one with gaps and holes and far-reaching voids where many memories have vanished.  It would be oh so much easier had I been adopted, because I know virtually nothing about my family tree, for all the asking I've done over the years, and my parents are both deceased with my having absolutely NO idea where I came from, who my ancestors are, or what my connection is to any of them, if at all.

I was a "Mistake," according to my mother.  Now, my relationship and experience with my mom is a story in and of itself, and honestly... I could write a novel here about that.  But I'm not going to.  Let's just say my mom was disconnected by the time I was born, old enough to be my grandmother, and about as unplugged as a parent could get.  It was easier to micromanage and control everything to a damaging degree, rather than create experiences that may have given me a chance and coming out on the other side with less 'issues.'  Yes, of course I have issues, and in a way it was my mom's only legacy.

How is it that I could know little of nothing, if anything, about anyone in my family tree?  Well, that's easy--when you don't answer questions, share nothing, and ensure that not a single photo, letter, information, etc. gets passed down to you... well, you can't ask a dead person questions.  Point blank, not pretty, but absolute truth just the same.

Everything from health/medical information was shared primarily with ONE of the 6 children, and I wasn't the one who got the information.  My eldest sister was my mother's confidant, her go-to gal, and there was an almost too-close relationship between my mom and my oldest sister (old enough to be my mom).  I spent my entire life on the outside, looking in, and it was that way until my mom passed away (over 20 years ago now).

One sister and I shared a dad, and my other siblings share a father form my mom's 1st and only marriage.  Yep, my other sister and I were illegitimate.  I could really care less about that, to tell you the truth.  My dad was out of the picture when I was 18 months old, and my mother really never spoke of him or his family except for some really scary things, very dark and scary things.  Now, it shouldn't surprise anyone that if you scare a kid like that, they're most likely not ever going to ask too many questions.  This was the case with me.

The siblings who had a different dad hate me.  Just the truth.  I was even told that one reason they despised me was that, because we were very poor, they often didn't get as much milk (the example used by one brother and sister) because when it came down to the wire... "The baby" (me) needed it more than they did.  I can't speak for what happened when I was a baby.  I can't apologize for something that I didn't do on purpose.  Yet that resentment carried right into adulthood for my 3 brothers and one sister.  BTW, I don't really think of them as brothers and sisters because they've not treated me as such throughout my life.  What memories I have of life with them.. isn't good.

I was born very late, with my mom being in her early 40's when she had me.  All my siblings (but for one) was grown and gone and with kids of their own, so I pretty much grew up like an only child from about age 10.. when one of my sisters married and moved out (she was 16).  We lived in a 3 bedroom house that was eventually condemned, and my mother (a hoarder) used all 3 bedrooms as her hoarding rooms.  My sister, the one I share a dad with, had her own room, lots of 'stuff,' decorated walls, record player, records, clothes, and a bike.  I didn't have enough toys to even have a toy box, so even in this respect I would find myself living an entirely different life than my sister... and everyone else, actually.

My mom was absent, indifferent, cold most of the time...and even cruel.  Skipping over more details than will fit here, I will say that my childhood was very, very odd, and the damage done has proven to be long-lasting.  Still, I spent my life longing for a family, a REAL family.  Now, coming from a family with 3 brothers and 2 sisters you would think that a strange thing for me to say.  Aunts, uncles, cousins... really had nothing to do with me, but for one cousin who, I guess, simply took pity on me.  I felt the hostility from them all growing up and didn't understand any of it at all.  I felt it, saw it, heard it, and experienced that hostility until we moved away from California.  We moved to Colorado because my oldest brother wanted my mom to move there so she could babysit while he and my SIL could work.  I was in 8th grade when we moved, and my life didn't get better at all.

Longing for a real family... even to this day....

I would eventually move away from the state of Colorado.  My kids and I, to make a long story short as possible, ended up here in the south along the Gulf Coast, where we settled into that strange place (strange to us because we weren't from there) and would end up calling the south "Home."  It's the only place that ever felt like home to me.  I'm still in the south, but a little further north by a few short hours.  But back to "Family"....

When my mom passed, naturally my eldest sister got everything.  Very important items my mom was holding for me until I could send for them were divided amongst my brothers and sisters and nephews... or just tossed out as garbage.  They did this QUICKLY after my mother died, the day they found out, using the excuse that they were sure that since she was on disability, got a veteran's widow pension, and on Medicare, etc... that the 'government' was going to come in and take her stuff.  Yes, LUDICROUS, but that's the excuse they used.  And when I arrived for her funeral I wasn't even allowed to so much as have a photo of hers.  My eldest sister 'allowed' me to take ONE photo to have it photocopied.  My mom had boxes and boxes of photos, btw.

Few actually had anything to say to me at the funeral, or after.  It was the same shit, different day.. only worse.  A few years later I'd tried once again to make some kind of connection with them, but it ended in a total disaster.  I finally came to my senses and realized that I was the only one putting in any effort and that it just simply wasn't worth it.  I basically told my oldest brother and his bitchy wife to piss off.  And yes, it felt great and was LONG overdue.

In the present....

I know pretty much nothing of my family history, my family tree.  My last living grandparent died when I was 2 weeks old, and everyone else was so much older than me that no one really had anything to do with me.  My mom wasn't really forthcoming with names, histories, etc., though she did incorporate some names and such in a few fun stories she would tell from time to time.  But as a little child I really had no idea if she were making the stuff up/telling fairytales, or if the information was actually true.  And after my mom's death... the information about grandparents and such were simply not given to me, even if I asked.  Photos, etc.... all given to my sister, who claimed some neighbor stole them, were lost.  My brothers, etc. chose badly when they decided to give my sister everything.  One person said they thought my sister pawned or sold the framed antique photos of grandparents etc for money.  Sadly, it sounds exactly like something she would do.

The cruelty extends into adulthood....

When one of my brothers passed away a few years ago I was told about this AFTER the funeral had taken place, and... I was told on Facebook by a distant cousin.  She apparently looked for me on Facebook with ONE purpose in mind, and that was to send me a message that read.. "B**** passed away last week.  Thought you'd like to know."  I asked "How/why?" which lead to her replaying in the same short, blunt fashion. She then disappeared and didn't say a word ever again.  I'd written back a couple of times.. with no response.  I'd written my nephew as well, and have been ignored.  And this nephew I grew up with and was very close to most of our lives.  He's only 2 1/2 years younger than I am.

Cruelty was their favorite weapon, and continues to be so.


The family tree...

As someone who feels completely disconnected from 'family' or blood ties, history... it only stands to reason that I would, eventually, WANT to know something about my own family history.  SOMETHING.  ANYTHING.  So when I decided to look into www.ancestry.com I felt like I was taking a step in the right direction.  Maybe this site could help me put the broken pieces together in such a way that I would at least see my connection within the bloodline.

What I've done...

I created an account at www.ancestry.com over a year ago, but since I wasn't really willing to invest any money into getting a full account, I've only spent the smallest bit of time there.  But that changed for me about a week ago when I saw a commercial online for Ancestry and a DNA test they offered that shows where your bloodline is from, at least in percentages.  A lot of folks have jumped on board for this.  Now, one cool thing about the DNA test and having a real account (which I don't yet) is that you can set your family tree to allow links between matches for DNA, region, etc.  It's a lot more complicated than that, and they have a video that explains it all, but it's a really neat tool and a good place to start.  But what about for someone like me?....

DNA results may be the only thing I really get out of this, and that's okay.  It's something, isn't it?  It would be nice to know for sure what ethnicities are involved in my family tree, even if I don't have any family history to see how the pieces fit.  I sent my kit off today and, from what I understand, it will take about a week for the results to get uploaded online.  Knowing it's not going to give me complete picture of my family tree... I'm still okay, and I'm fairly patient where that's concerned.

So what's my freaking point here?

My point is this: If you have information about family history (names, places, etc) please share them with your kids.  Don't leave them in the dark to spend the rest of their lives wondering who they really are (history wise), where they're from, what their history is, etc.  It's really not a good or easy thing to live with when you have no idea about those things.  Don't do that to your kids, seriously.

My desire to know more about my family history/ancestry runs deeper than the hurt from the disconnection from my actual 'family members.'  I rarely use the word 'family' when speaking about them.  They're blood relatives to me, but nothing more.

I have to wonder if I'm beating my head against the wall trying to piece together a family tree I know nothing about.  Names, birth dates, etc. are required to even do searches or make connections.  What little information I have really just stops at my mom, and my dad I have only a name and birth date.  It's really like hitting a brick wall.  But is it worth it, all of this effort?  I don't know.

I really just don't know.  The one thing I DO know is that I'm left with the question: Will I ever fully understand myself in connection to history and ancestry?

*shrugs*

A Few Precious Minutes to Myself

People sometimes want what they don't have, covet what they will never have, and forget to appreciate the important things they're almost guaranteed.  Why does this happen?  I can't speak for everyone and won't try to, but I do know ALL of us fall prey to this.  And if you're one of the few who think you don't.. I would suggest taking a few steps back and looking good and long at your life, because you may just be missing out in ways you never even realized.

We get too close to see the big picture.

It's not like I can't admit to over-scrutinizing my life and everything in it.  It's where I am at the moment, always in that mode of trying to figure things out and understand.  The whole understanding this is part of who I am, and yes... I can over-think things because of this.  It's okay, though, because eventually I discard the deadwood information I glean from digging in too deep.  It's a bit like cleaning house.  Seriously, if you look too closely for dust.. you're going to find it.  Yeah, you know what I mean.

I spend my insomniac nights over-thinking in order to try and solve problems.  It doesn't work.  I know it doesn't work.  But I do it anyway.  And I shouldn't, really, because it just makes me freaking tired.  Okay, so where am I going with this?....

Alone time.  Me time.  Just time to myself to sort through the muddle that's my life right now has become as important as sleep, as breathing.. because I'm finding that in that space, while I can actually take a breath and breathe, think, and allow the quiet outside to seep in a bit, I feel better.  No really, I just feel better in that state.  Maybe it's the whole needing to hang on to my independence thing, not sure.  But it doesn't matter the why as much as it matters what good it does to my soul, my spirit, my being..to simply have the time to take to regroup and heal inside and out.  It's hard to explain that last part, so I'm not going to try.  Many of you may already understand what I mean.

This morning, on a Saturday, I'm able to take time to just drink coffee, read a bit online, listen to the absolute quiet.  I hear the heater running, a ticking clock in the breakfast nook, the wind when it rushes through the big trees outside.  I hear all of this and know it's all about 'the still.'

I'm appreciative for these rare and precious moments when I have less pain, when the depression isn't taking hold, when I can sit and drink coffee and just... be... me.  Life will return shortly, and everything will change.  I'm hoping that this weekend will be peaceful and not filled with my chasing life while it dashes and darts away just out of reach.

In the meantime, as I sit here in the quiet, my past history visits.  This time, however, I'm not shaken by any of it and can simply look at what was and see it as.. 'what was.'

I'm not controlled by anyone anymore, and that gives me peace.

I don't have to use every single ounce of my energy trying to please another person, and that gives me peace.

I don't have to meet anyone's demands, and that gives me peace.

I can say "NO" to that which harms me, including people, and that gives me peace.

I don't need anyone to tell me I'm okay, or loved, or liked, etc, and that gives me peace.

I can take care of myself without guilt, and that gives me peace.

I don't have to ask permission for anything, and that gives me peace.

I can listen to my instincts and follow them, and that gives me peace.

My know my choices are mine, and that gives me peace.

I have found my voice, and that gives me peace.

I can speak my mind, my truth, out loud, and that gives me peace.

I don't have to explain myself unless I choose to, and that gives me peace.

I don't have to cater to another, and that gives me peace.

I choose to not be bullied, and that gives me peace.

I can stand up for myself without guilt, and that gives me peace.

I don't have to listen, take, or act on advice I know isn't good for me, and that gives me peace.

There is a long list of things that give me peace, and while my life isn't perfect (and NO ONE'S ever will be, including mine) it's still MY LIFE.  MY life.  So in this imperfection of life I know things won't always be rainbows and sunshine and butterflies (well, maybe butterflies).  I accept the reality of reality and can choose to live accordingly.  I can make these choices because I broke free from a relationship that sought to destroy all I am.  While I didn't come out of the station unscathed, I walked away with enough of myself to know I'm healing JUST by making that exit.  I walked right out of the dark and into life.

In the still I can sometimes see better, think more clearly, and take an inventory of what should be kept and what should be discarded or changed.  This isn't a bad thing, btw.  I realize what I need to work on.  I'm aware of those things that I need to change.

I'm not going to be anything but myself.  Gone are the days when I try to reinvent myself for another person.  And trust me, the whole 'reinventing' oneself thing isn't a bad thing as along as we remember to still be ourselves while making those changes.  Trying to be anything or anyone else is a total recipe for disaster.  I tried it to suit another and am still paying the price for that huge mistake.

Don't ever let anyone tell you to change who you are.  Take it from me, someone who's tried that, it will only wreck you.  The only thing you really need to remember when someone is trying to change you, insisting you change, is how that demand makes you FEEL.  If it feels wrong, it is.  Self-doubt isn't good either, and anyone who instills doubt within you by their words, their actions, their demands are simply trying to make THEIR life better while destroying yours.  Appreciate the person you are.

Appreciate the person you are.  This means, appreciate everything about you, the good, the bad, the kooky, whatever it is that's inherently you, appreciate it all.  Change those things that YOU see needs changing.  Listen to input from those who actually love you and hold your best interests in mind when they speak.

One more cup of coffee...

Irrelevance

Choosing what's important from day to day can be a problem for me.  I mean, when situations reveal themselves I then have the opportunity to choose where within the timeline of importance it needs to be... for me anyway.  Why, then, is it that so much ends up being tossed into the box of irrelevance?  Does the hierarchy of meaningful events and such mean anything at all anymore?  Or is it that this lowered quality of life dictates what importance is placed on any given thing on any given day?  Could it be that I've really lost that much control already?

Sitting at my computer is hardly being productive.  Being this sick all of the time makes it impossible to be productive.  And the waning importance of BEING productive tells me that the changes I'm enduring in my life cannot be ignored.  And yet here I am weighing the benefits to risk ratio against a timeline I can't even see anymore.

Keep Your Word When You Can

Notice the title: "Keep your word WHEN YOU CAN."  See, I'm not unreasonable.  I understand enough of human nature (like most of us) to know that NO ONE is perfect, and if anyone claims to be perfect... RUN LIKE HELL!  Still, one thing that sticks with me long-term is when people break their word because they had no intention of keeping their word to begin with.  Yeah, a big pet peeve of mine.. and here's why...

A person is only as good as their word; don't you agree?  But the HUMAN side of us also understands that there WILL be times when 'shit just happens,' and we have to recognize the difference between us wanting someone to keep their word.. and being a complete and total CONTROL FREAK.  Now that's another pet peeve of mine--control freaks.  But I'll get to the latter in a bit.  Right now, I need to get something off my chest.

Not unlike many, I have a long history of being subjected to those who frequently break their word.  It isn't always presented as a 'promise,' mind you, but it's still important to follow through when you can.  When you can.  Hey, I know all too well how things can change in the blink of an eye, and it stands to reason that when shit happens, things change.  We have to amend the course of our day and intentions and make room for whatever that unexpected change demands from us.  Right?  I mean, this is life on planet earth, folks, so we sometimes have to take a chill pill if something doesn't quite go our way.  Seriously.

In the past I've been held to an unbelievably rigid set of rules when it comes to relationships.  Needless to say, I've ended up with a couple of complete control freaks who attempted (with some success, unfortunately) to micromanage my life and time; totally fault, because I allowed it to happen.  But given that information, there is also the other side to this coin, and that's the real point.  At some point you have to at least make every effort to keep your word, even when it's inconvenient.

Last night, right before bed, I learned T broke his word to me on something and failed to tell me about it, failed to discuss it with me, and most importantly.. he didn't bring the problem to my attention so we could talk about the decision that HE would ultimately make.  The actual subject matter doesn't matter, trust me, so I'm focusing on the act itself, which is really the most important part.

Bottom line: if you're going to tell me you're going to do something, either DO IT or talk to me about why you can't, won't, etc.  How is that difficult?  It's really not.  In my case, I can completely understand when something doesn't happen the way I expect it to.. if people TALK to me about it!

Last night was a mess, a complete and total mess.  Feeling disrespected has become a part of my life again, and with it nastiness from the past.  I don't like the parallels, though this situation is really more about someone's utter emotional and moral laziness than actual cruelty.  No, the cruelty was the past situation, by far.

My past situation, as you guys know by now if you've read my other blogs, was very dark, very toxic, especially at the end.  I was held accountable for everything that went wrong in the relationship, and I was also held responsible for FIXING everything that was wrong in the relationship.  And according to him, "I" was what was wrong; who I am, who I want to be, how I lived, what I liked/disliked, and virtually EVERYTHING about me... was all wrong (according to him) and needed 'fixing.'  Without repeating how damaging that was to me, I will say that the experience opened my eyes to a few things, including (but not limited to) the unreasonable expectations of selfish people.

The unreasonable expectations of selfish people.

It took me a long time to say those words.  I don't like slapping labels or judgment on anyone, especially someone I love/d.  And I very much did love that person at the time.  I loved him so much I was blind to what was happening, to what and who he really was, and how utterly controlled I was during that time.  The idea that so much could be demanded of me never occurred to me in the beginning.  The idea that I would be shackled to everything I said never occurred to me.  The idea that there was NO ROOM for error, NO ROOM for life, NO ROOM for 'shit to happen' also never occurred to me.  I was utterly blinded by emotion.  And yet, I did everything in my power to agree to everything, and to push myself beyond what was reasonable in order to accommodate his every wish and command.

Over time, and as my health became worse, the narrative began to change, and my own personal story with it.  Sick, tired, in desperate need of rest, sleep, peace, tranquility.. I continued to do what was asked.  Over time, the toll on my body, mind, self-esteem, all of me really, was severe and debilitating at times.  And eventually... I didn't feel good at all.  My happiness and joy dulled and faded into nearly nothing.

The valuable lessons learned:

Love yourself enough to expect people to keep their word to you WHEN THEY CAN.
Love THEM enough to know they're human and shit happens sometimes.
Love...
Just love...

Last night was, in part, a by-product of recent history.  I'm not allowing myself to be controlled, either by force or by coercion.  And yes, I know the difference ALL too well; this is a good thing, btw.  I can recognize when people are doing their best, when they're trying, and I can also recognize when they're being total lazy assholes.  And guess what, ALL of us have our moments of being total lazy assholes.  Humility says... don't be so damn self-important that you think YOUR needs exceeds that of another.

Involve the other person in the dialogue when things change IF you have any warning that they will change.  Involve that other person in the dialogue when, even AFTER the fact, you can't keep your word for any reason.  But dammit, be freaking PATIENT, because honestly.. the world doesn't evolve just around you (using the word "You" loosely here, folks).

I recognized last night the extent to where the dialogue didn't include me, leaving me to once again feel disrespected to a large large degree.  I wasn't included when things changed, was told nothing at all.  In fact, the worst of it was that I know had "I" not brought the subject up... it wouldn't have been brought up at all.  And let's be clear, there was a timeline on this situation.

No, I'm not prepared to be unreasonable about this or any other thing, and I will still continue to make respect one of the most important factors in ANY relationship I have with ANYONE and everyone.  And it really has to go both ways.

I got it out of my system and spoke my mind.  T understands full well what happened and how NOT keeping his word or involving me in the dialogue when things change makes ALL the difference between treating me with respect or not.

It's a tiresome topic, really, and I'm not saying the actual topic of respect is tiresome.  Rather I am saying that I shouldn't have to always be asking for respect and pointing out the lack of it.  I also know that, like the past situation, if I keep quiet and say and do nothing for myself, then I'm doomed to allow the damage to continue, to lose my self-esteem and self-respect in the process.  And you know what?  I'm just not willing to go there again.

Keep your word when you can.

Honesty has become a vulnerability.  People who speak their minds honesty are often faced with ridicule and contempt by those who have opposing views. I believe most of us get this and have experienced that ridicule first-hand.  While a valuable lesson, that ridicule and backlash, while it reminds us how we should choose our words carefully, we must always remember that honesty is STILL the best policy, and that lying by omission... is STILL lying.

A friend who reads all my blogs, and I mean every entry (bless her heart), sent me a message and said, "I don't know how you do it. Aren't you scared of haters bashing you?"  Well, no.. I'm not.  I refuse to allow haters and bullies to dictate how I think, behave, react or don't react to any given situation.  I mean, once you give away your power it's really hard to get it back.  It's best not to give your power to another to begin with.

I've relinquished my power to haters and bullies in my past.  My entire life, up until about 3 years ago, I learned to suppress my feelings, to bury anger deep, to hide the foundations of any feelings I had.  Not to say I wasn't emotional, because BOY was I ever.  I wore my emotions on my sleeve for the entire world to see.  But when it came down to recognizing for more than a second what created those emotions, and when it came down to standing up for myself, that's where everything fell apart, and it did so because I was taught early on that having those emotions.. was a bad thing.

I no longer think that, and because I no longer think that I FEEL more intensely those emotions I used to keep in check to the point of denial.  It's been a liberating process, being able to access feelings like that.  I don't have to apologize to anyone for having those feelings, and I reserve apologies now for when I HANDLE those feelings badly; thankfully this is seldom an issue.  So when someone writes me and is worried because I allowed the emotions and thoughts etc to flow freely on the pages here, or in my other blogs, I DO take into consideration what they're saying, but I also take into consideration that I've come a very long way to not only reach my feelings and access them more fully than before, but that it's MORE than OKAY to express them.

There is a danger to being honest.  There's a danger in speaking freely at times.  There's a risk that you won't please one person or another person, etc.  Not everyone is going to like what I'm saying.  But so what?  There will be those who DO, and it's with those people that the unspoken camaraderie is expressed and felt.  What I say, what I express, actually has helped people, and it's certainly helped me.  So I've no intention of changing this, just so everyone here is clear on where I stand.

I will accept the dangers of honesty and continue to be honest, sometimes bluntly, and I will take into consideration the edges honesty has by definition.  I'm not out to hurt anyone, and this is why I name NO names here as to whom I'm speaking about.. IF I'm speaking about someone else.  It occurs to me that having to say this means I'm still aware, very aware, of the risks I take.  But it doesn't matter.. I'm not here to write fiction or make things look better or worse than they actually are.

I'm going to be myself, haters and bullies be-damned.  No one should give up pieces of themselves for others to devour, and that's exactly what you do when you censor your words, thoughts, and feelings in a place or forum where you're there to speak your mind.  People can choose to read or not read, listen or not listen.  Actions are a choice.

So to my friend, though we've spoken about this at length--I hear you.  And I'm okay.  I'm okay with what any hater or bully thinks about me, because I don't answer to them.  And.. you shouldn't either.