There are no accidents

I recently had a discussion with my friend. She stated her belief that when it comes to pregnancy, there are no accidents when sex is consensual. I can’t argue with her on that. I do however believe that if a woman unexpectedly becomes pregnant and the pregnancy is unwanted the woman will naturally want to talk to someone. Society may say well, it’s her fault, she should not have had unprotected sex, and deal with the consequences. In my opinion that is harsh. Now, I love my friend and we don’t agree on everything. I listened to her thoughts and I did not really give my opinion. I have had conversations with people who disagree with my thoughts and beliefs and I have been verbally attacked for my opinion. I don’t feel it is my place to convince someone their opinion is incorrect. People are entitled to their beliefs. I respect my friend and after careful consideration, here is my opinion on pregnancy and other unexpected events in life…
Everyone makes mistakes. I am not a believer that if someone is obese and that person eats McDonalds all day every day that McDonalds is to blame. If that person finds out they have high cholesterol, or high blood pressure or diabetes, that person will be shocked, scared and will want to turn to someone to talk to. Is that an accident? No. Is that person responsible for what they eat? Yes. Do they have a right to be upset and want to talk to someone? Absolutely. Society may say, it’s their fault they are obese and have health problems, but that does not mean society or friends should turn their backs on them.
Oftentimes people need help overcoming something. Addictions to drugs, alcohol, sex, food, the list goes on forever. People find themselves in situations they could have prevented, but people are weak and impulsive. A spouse cheats on a spouse and the spouse finds out and they separate. That is no accident; the event could have been prevented. I would feel sympathy for the family, including the cheating spouse.
Every day people die from texting while driving. Those people know better than that. Those are not accidents. Those are tragic events that could have been prevented, but people will naturally mourn the loss of a loved one.
I always say I have done some fucked up things in my life and I am ultimately responsible. During those dark times I wish I had someone to talk to, someone who did not judge me. I wish I had someone who would be there to help me get through. I can’t call my fuck ups accidents. I knew I should have been more careful, but we all have a lapse in judgment. I always knew I had to face my consequences, but it does feel good to face consequences with support.
The point of this is to agree when it comes to many occurrences in life where something happens unexpectedly that could have been prevented but was not, it should not be called an accident. However, in dealing with consequences it’s good to have someone to rely on to help people get through. It’s something I wish I had through my earlier years. I guess that’s why therapists exist…
Over and out

Happy Mother’s Day

Another Mother’s Day is here and for me it’s another Mother’s Day without knowing my birth mom. I long to know my birth mom, but she does not want to be found. As I get older the longing grows like an unstoppable vine. I have friends who have wonderful moms and I am always left feeling like I am missing out on something great in life. I have a wonderful step mom, but it’s just not the same.
The bond between mom and child is indescribable. I feel so blessed to be a mom, but I feel depressed because I wish I could see my mom. I know someone who lost their mom recently. I looked at this person and wondered what this Mother’s Day would be like. The first Mother’s Day where they cannot physically hug and kiss their mom and tell her they love her. I bet this person will feel sadness and emptiness. I wanted to ask, but thought the question may have been rude, but I have an idea how they feel…
It’s hard for me to describe how I feel so people will understand. Especially, to people who have known their birth mothers all their life. It’s like an invisible thread that cannot be cut. I believe my birth mom is in Georgia where I was born, but again she does not want to be found. I respect her decision, though it saddens me. People have a need to know where they came from. My children are curious about whom I came from and it’s hard to tell my children I just don’t know.
I have a strong feeling I am a lot like my mom. Maybe the feeling comes from the invisible thread.
Every year I send my adopted mother a card for Mother’s Day. I always struggle finding a card because I hate the typical Hallmark Greeting bullshit. I can’t send something I just don’t feel. I look at card after card and they all say some sweet syrupy sappy shit and it’s not how I feel. I always wish there was a section of cards where the message is not so nice. I don’t like blank cards either. My handwriting sucks and I would not want to torture even mother that way. I found a card finally; it seemed to take a million years. I typed up a letter to my mother letting her know I wanted her to have a Happy Mother’s Day because she is a mother. She does have two birth children along with me being adopted.
I won’t call her because I don’t want her to bring me any more down than I already am. When I was a child mother would make comments about my birth mother that were unkind. I felt like mother was rubbing it in my face I was unwanted. Abusers love to do that shit. I was too young and scared so all I could do was helplessly listen.
I always reflect on my life; on the things I have done. I can say I have lived a pretty damn ass kicking good life. I have done the best I could with the hand I’ve been dealt. I love my children and they love me. My children love my unconventional personality and I feel the most comfortable with them. I know my family cannot do one damn thing to change the past and they will never understand how I feel like an outcast, the black sheep. They have their birth mothers. I don’t. I know there are people out there who understand, just not people I know, except for the one who lost their mother this year…
Over and out

Mortality

I recently overheard a conversation of workers at a store where I shop. The workers were passing around a card of condolence. One of their co-workers died suddenly. When I say suddenly, I mean suddenly. The soon to be deceased went to the doctor and found out they had cancer. Three days later, the person died!
I was shocked and saddened to hear this conversation. I can’t imagine what it’s like to know that person will never be back. I imagine what that person did at the store and the impact that person had on people’s lives. I have co-workers who I consider my second family. Hell, they are more regarded than some of my family members. I always think to myself I am here now but I could be gone in a second. Mortality touches us all.
After pondering on the shock of what I heard, for it is shocking, I thought to myself what would I do if I knew I had three days to live? I felt like adrenaline surged through my body at the thought. My brain scrambled like a pin ball in a machine over what would I do. I thought to myself, I would eat all the food I wanted and not give a shit about calories and fat. I live every damn day thinking about eating healthy and it sucks! I would eat Red Lobster and cheese cake with extra, extra whipped cream. I would not care if I gained 20 pounds in 3 days because I’d be dead!
I love to sleep, but I would guarantee I would not sleep at all in those three days because I would know I would be sleeping for eternity. I do know for sure I would not do something like sky dive or bungee jump or anything dangerous. Why would I risk my life when I know my time is coming? I would spend time with my girls. I would hug them so tight and I know I would cry. I would stress to my girls I love them so very much and try to ensure my memory will always be with them.
Finally, I would panic. I think I would be frantic. There is an episode of SpongeBob Squarepants where Sandy Cheeks goes crazy trying to do everything she can to enjoy life before she hibernates for the winter. I guess I would be crazy like that. When I know something is approaching I do everything I can to prepare myself.
Unfortunately, death is around the corner for all of us and we are not fortunate to know when we will die. I can’t go to Red Lobster and eat cheesecake with extra extra whipped cream. I will continue to eat healthy and hate it. I will hug my girls and tell them I love them and just be thankful for every moment I have on this Earth.
The clock is ticking…
Over and out

Rainbows and Sunshine

I often reflect on life and struggle to find the rainbows and sunshine when heart ache is everywhere. I read a news article involving a young brother accidentally shooting his baby sister with his gun. The accident happened in a rural part of America that is so different than the place in America I live. I guess having a gun in that part of the country is like having a place to live.
I have been called an overprotective parent and I probably am. I have always hovered under my children at the play ground. Spotting them so they don’t fall. I do this because I don’t want them to have an accident. I don’t want to have to take them to the emergency room for a broken God knows what. I panic at the sight of blood. I always think who would be there to pick me and my child up if my child is hurt and I have fainted because I can’t handle the sight of blood?
Though giving a child a gun is common and accidental shooting of siblings and other family members resulting in death is rare, the odds just don’t work for me.
I think to myself how unfortunate and sad that a family is broken forever. A sister, daughter, granddaughter gone and gone at the hands of her not much older brother. What are the odds of him picking up a gun with one lone bullet and the gun going off bulls eye at no intended target, but finding a target that delivers a death blow to everyone in the family? I can’t find a silver lining there. I can’t imagine how the parents feel. Their lives will never be the same. If they ever do smile again, behind the smile will be a sadness that will haunt them forever and probably everyone around them.
I know I can’t prevent all accidents and that is why I always say the world is not full of rainbows and sunshine. I don’t judge that part of America that gives their children guns. It’s foreign to me, but who am I to judge. Life is like roulette and the odds of an accident like this may be slim, but even the chance is not worth it to me.
Over and out

Jason Collins

I don’t follow basketball. I don’t follow any professional or unprofessional sport. I know the basics about football, basketball, and baseball. I come from a family who are die hard Steelers fans and I used to watch the playoffs of the Celters vs. Lakers. I ogled Michael Jordan and his amazing basketball abilities. As an adult I would rather spend my time watching reality television or reading a great book. Currently I am reading Under the Dome by my all-time favorite author Stephen King. Mr. King never disappoints.
I find it odd that a pro sports figure would be praised for openly admitting his sexual orientation. It’s ridiculous that a simple statement of being gay creates such a media sensation. In my opinion, it’s rather sad. We know gay people exist in the world. Always have been, probably since the beginning of time. All types of people have existed and we can tell the difference between men and women and race. My theory on sexual orientation is that people are born that way. We have no control over the way we are born. I happen to be heterosexual and that’s fine with me. I am short, have thick hair and dark eyes. I wish my hair were not so thick, but I was born with it. I am glad we live in a time where homosexuality is more tolerable, but it’s not completely tolerable. It’s not completely tolerable to be around all races or all genders even. That’s a problem. I am glad a professional male athlete came out of the closet, but at the end of the day is it relevant? I don’t think so because at the end of the day we are all human. People should not make other people feel like freaks. We are all born and we all die. We are all human.
Life is so difficult. Descriptions are great and our characteristics help identify us as individuals. People should embrace the differences and uniqueness’s and not make people feel bad. This public sexual orientation declaration should not surprise people because homosexuals and heterosexuals are scattered all over the world just like various races and genders.
It would be great if one day people will be able to love who they love with openness and acceptance without having to tell the world creating a media sensation. Life is too short and at the end of the day in spite of all our wonderful differences the ultimate similarity is we are all amazingly human.
Over and out

Dirty Laundry

I have done some things in life that came to light that really made me want to bury my head in the sand. Everyone makes mistakes and some mistakes are worse than others. Some mistakes that come to light for it seems like the whole world to know may make or break someone. I am one whose dirty laundry has been broadcast and I knew I had two choices. Sink or swim. I often refer to songs to get through life. I love the song “Dirty Laundry” by Don Henley. People do get some sick titillation out of scrutinizing every ones dirty little secrets. Maybe, it’s because many people have dirty little secrets and they don’t want to feel like they are the only one…
I recently read David Petraeus took a job as a professor. David Petraeus dirty laundry was aired for the world to see that he had an affair on his wife. Like everyone else who gets in trouble before the eyes of the world David Petraeus had a choice of sinking or swimming. He chose to swim. The waters get tough when a person has to swim for survival. Giving up is so easy, but life does do go. I have learned that so many times.
I am not one to judge people for what they do. Resisting temptation whatever the temptation is proves difficult. People cheat some way every day. People cheat on their partners, cheat on their diets, over eat, over drink, steal, kill, etc…
No one is perfect and people must swim and continue to swim in light of their mistakes. In the beginning when people get caught doing something wrong, the first reaction is probably, “my life is over, I may as well give up.” With time and effort people will see life is not over. Life is not over because everyone makes mistakes. Sometimes I beat myself up over things I have done in the past. I think to myself, “if only I had been stronger. If only…”
I could think if only until I am blue in the face. If only is not an option once deeds are done. I have been thinking about this for a while and I happened to open my daily message from Joel Osteen. Joel says, “Why don’t you take off the “washed up” label? Take off the “failure,” “guilty,” “condemned” labels and put on some new labels: redeemed, restored, forgiven, bright future, new beginning.” Every day we wake up is a new chance to restoration, forgiveness, and a new beginning.
I don’t know David Petraeus, but I am proud that in spite of his dirty laundry broadcasted for the world he made the choice to make a new beginning. I identify with him because I know what it feels like to make a mistake and I know what it feels like to fight for forgiveness and to not give up. I will not think of him as the decorated general who cheated on his wife. I will think of him as a human being just like the rest of us. He’s done some good; he’s done some bad, just like everyone else. Just like me…
Over and out

Envy

I know many people who love their parents to death. A part of me envies those people. I have no idea what it feels like to totally love my parents and I never will. I totally love my children, but because of the way I was raised I don’t have a clue how to love the parents who raised me.
Recently, my mother came to town to visit my sister. I did not learn of this visit until the day of. I received a text from my brother in law that my mother was in town and wanted to see me. I did not respond. I guess if I had a mother that I adored I would have known days before she was coming to town and I would have been waiting in anticipation and excitement for her visit.
My mother called and left a message saying she was in town, wanted to see me, and she loved me. I could not help myself, but I scoffed at the saying, “I love you.” I question love. Specifically her love. I know she is sick and it was her mental illness and the voices in her head telling her to hurt me, telling her to say mean things to me, scaring the shit out of me to the point where I would piss myself when she punched me. I wondered how I seemed to God, praying with all my might to have mother die. I wonder how I would have looked if I got to the point where I could not take her shit anymore and killed her…
Lately, times have been rough. My life has been rough and as a child I had no choice but to stay and take whatever came my way. I don’t want to live my life to appease another person. I did not feel like seeing my mother so I did not send a reply text and I did not call. I felt bad that day. I don’t like being mean to people, but I don’t think mother or anyone else will ever understand the way being in her presence makes me feel.
So many people don’t understand why I talk to my mother. Call me crazy but I guess I have not completely cut the cord for the sake of the family. I can’t help but scoff at that too. The family knew bad things were going on at home and I had no savior. Well, God saved me from death and insanity. Silver lining!
I did not call back or send a reply because talking to mother only brings me down. I wish I had a mom and dad I absolutely adored and would want to take care of in their old age. It’s just not in the cards for me. I believe sometimes the grass is greener on the other side. I hope that the grass is green for my kids. I hope they will be able to say they adore their mom. I try to give my children everything I did not have and it’s tough.
I feel I missed out on a lot in life and I try to make the best each day. As a child I had no choice, but today I do. Thank God for that…
Over and out

Call Me Crazy

I recently watched a movie on Lifetime title “Call Me Crazy.” The movie was about different characters who suffered from various forms of depression. One of the characters suffered from schizophrenia. The character suffering from schizophrenia tried to strangle her sister. From that moment the relationship was altered forever. Both sisters struggled to convince themselves it was not her, it was the illness.
At the end of one of the scenes the sisters hugged each other. I suppose that hug represented love and forgiveness, but I wonder if it’s really that easy to forgive and love and move on…
My mother is a schizophrenic and from my earliest memories as a child she abused me. She always told me I was adopted and how blood was thicker than water. From an early age I knew I did not belong in the household I was living. I always forgave my mother for hurting me, but forgiveness was not out of love, but out of hopes she would stop hurting me. I tell myself today, “it was not mother; it was her illness hurting me.” Does that make me want to run to her and hug and kiss her? No.
I admit I am afraid of people with mental illness. I know many people with mental illness and I don’t have tolerance for them. Some may think my fear is crazy, but living in fear of when the next punch to the face, or kick to the stomach will come naturally brings non tolerance. To me it’s common sense…
My own daughter suffers from depression and my only fear for my daughter is that she may end up hurting herself in the future. I have the utmost love for my daughter and I will never abandon her even on her darkest days. I suppose that pure love comes from knowing she is my daughter, my blood. Perhaps, I would have felt that way if my adoptive mother were my birth mother. I am sure I would…
I hope the movie “Call Me Crazy” will create conversation on the topic of depression and encourage people to get help or to help others. Depression is not shameful though I am sure people who suffer from depression feel shame. There is something wrong with all of us. For some it’s more obvious than others. I am just thankful to have survived living in a household with a schizophrenic. I would not want to wish that nightmare on anyone.
Over and out

Man on the corner

I struggle to pay my bills. Every dollar is accounted for. The down fall of adulthood is mounting stress over paying bills to provide food and shelter for the family. I always refer to myself as poor. Recently, I came to question the reference of being poor in my case. I can’t afford to buy my children new clothes so I often shop at the thrift shop. I have shopped at the thrift shop most of my adult life. Sometimes I find brand new clothes with the tag still on with a price of 3 bucks. I call that a steal. On a recent visit to the thrift shop to buy shorts for my children I was stopped at a red light. Standing on the corner was a man holding a sign saying he was homeless. He was asking people for money. Living in the age of debit cards I never carry money on my person.
At that moment I looked at the man on the corner and I thought to myself I am barely making it by. I can barely afford to even buy clothes for my children at the thrift shop! I thought to myself, I am poor! I shook my head no at the man standing on the corner and I felt terrible. I do like to help people. I also thought I probably looked well off to this man standing on the corner with his homeless sign. To be homeless is poor. I live in a house. I do have a job. I even drive a car. I bet if I told that man standing on the corner I was poor he may look at me like I was nuts. The saying of looks can be deceiving or don’t judge a book by its cover applies in my case.
I went on my way to the thrift shop and carefully added up my purchases for the clothes for my children. I saw a pair of shorts that were 7 dollars and I almost bought them for my daughter, but they were too expensive. I bought 5 pairs of shorts and 2 sweaters and I spent 30 bucks total. Not bad. It’s easy to consider myself poor, but I guess I’m not. I am stretched thin financially and as I said I struggle to pay my bills. I would not want to trade places with the homeless man standing on the corner, but he probably would want to trade places with anyone living in a home and driving a car. My conclusion is most of us are probably living our own personal hell and some hells are more obvious than others…
Over and out

A face in the crowd

I am haunted by the 8 year old boy who lost his life in the Boston bombing. I imagine what the day was like for him before the bombs went off. I bet he was excited. I imagine him waking up and eating breakfast with his family like a typical family would. But in his mind this would be no ordinary day. How right he would have been. I imagine his family getting in the car and driving to the marathon site where his dad would be running. I bet this little 8 year old boy was proud of his dad and could not wait for the marathon to start so he could cheer his dad on excitedly. I imagine the beautiful smiling face of this precious 8 year old angel. A smiling happy face in the crowd cheering with his mom and sister. It’s so easy to imagine happy scenes…
I don’t want to imagine the horror that was to come; destroying any sense of excitement and happiness for anyone who was near and far forever. What are the odds of all the destruction that a child’s life would end so terribly when in the last moments of his life he was happy? If the media report is true that his sister lost a limb and his mom is seriously injured I can’t imagine what this experience must be like for this boy’s father.
It seems the norm to expect the unexpected and I am afraid for the next unexpected tragedy. Every day I get a message from Joel Osteen in my e-mail. I guess it’s the message of the day with a daily prayer. Today’s message was about fear and the first sentence was fear presents itself bigger than it really is. I love Joel’s messages, but the fear is real for everyone. Gone is the sense of security of people minding their own business just experiencing life. The unexpected unthinkable is a reality and does happen and I do fear. Joel’s message says “God is bigger than your problems and bigger than fear.” I know God is bigger than anything, but I will be afraid. I am human. I bet many people feel the same.
Terrible atrocities happen all over the world. Every day. I can’t imagine what I don’t know, but after the bombing I now have a vision. I don’t like the vision. I don’t like imaging that 8 year old boy suffering when he should be walking this Earth today smiling and happy with his family intact. Everyone who was there should be walking this Earth with all their limbs intact. So I am haunted by this child. I pray he is soaring with the angels and that he is at peace. Everything happens for a reason they say, but what is the reason for this?…
Over and out