Tub Deep. Mutlifaceted Shit.

Sometimes purging your mind of harmful events is the only way you can judge whether you're fully healed or ready to heal... Or at least have come to a point where you feel ready to begin the process. I'm not sure where I'm at... I just know I've reached a pivotal step - of something. I revealed to a friend, I hope - something I had previously not wrote on or told to anyone,  for me it was an admittance my fathers words still had heavy impact on me as as an adult. It was a defeat in my mind - a disclosure about how broken I truly was at that point in my life, very well may still be, and always have been. Still I go over why events have happened to me - and how I responded. I'm tedious and brutal - an abuser of self. I'm in constant doubt as to knowledge and what I perceive as being the right choice/conclusion.

The revelation ...

Not only did my father make me take bleach baths as a child (which I have spoke on) while telling me how dirty I was for being a girl, for my mother being a whore ...

I did it to myself as an adult.

These occurred during the time I was having sexual relations with a person for whatever reasons. I reached points so low of self esteem; shame for being weak and what I perceived as being filthy, that I went home, and bathed in bleach, then cried. I couldn't wash the filth from me. It wasn't morality or guilt over any other thing than self. I was so racked with self hate and contempt that I became the little girl again and tried to wash away what I felt was filth, my filth. The filth that "daddy" always told I'd be - a whore. Women were dirty, and I had acted a dirty woman. I've been very much ashamed, or shamed of my sexuality my whole life. I had sporadic sexual interest - but mostly "asexual." I tend to pick partners in which sex will not be a focus within the relationship. Times when I've had sexual interest, it's been devastating to my sense of self esteem ... I drank and diluted my senses into oblivion and did things that were totally opposite of me - the mirrors reflection was much more desirable than the woman the image came from. This had been a truth even in my adolescence and something my therapist had spoken to me on- always with me adamant that I could fix myself. I survived many things, and didn't need anyone to fix me - I could do this alone.

The baths told me different. For the longest time I wouldn't even acknowledge what I did those nights- those moments when I was her again.  

These memories trickle to the surface often. Too often. 

denied

 At first I was amused that Moore Sr. (my father) was so potent, and being obviously successful with woman beating magnetism he instantly impregnated the easily infatuated. I imagine how manly, and virile they found him to be whilst never holding a job; thinking women were to be subservient to him and his interesting way of thinking himself a higher life form. He was a god unto himself - he worshiped daily at the temple known as a "drug dealing, woman and child trafficking piece of shit"...This temple name has some fucking punch to it, eh? He mesmerized my known siblings - despite the fact his legacy of dysfunction is readily viewable in his criminal, and drug using children, including their mental health issues. A criminality and abuse that has trickled even into his grandchildren. Nothing deserves glamorization as much as man who made a living off drugs, public assistance and pimping... His redeeming quality was that he kindly allowed the addicts he created to sell their genitals under his management. A real gents' gent... Something you prop up as a model of manhood, but only for the manliest of men. Being forgiven his transgressions against us, and humanity in general, his weak minded offspring made him into a harmless old man. One I needed to forgive or stop lying on - dependent on which sibling you talk to.

Recently they really angered that violent cunty cunt within me...  They gave him more dignity on his deathbed than they did our mother - the woman he beat and had raped on the floor of a basement. The woman he pistol whipped - forever giving her nose that slant look. The same mother who walked in rain, sleet or snow to get to a job where she was treated as third class. The woman who repeatedly throughout our lives had taken us in, paid our bills, bought our children diapers and food. She didn't  get 1/4 the respect that worthless husk of nothing got. She was never even given the respect of believing what he did to her. This was evident by her intellectually stunted son - with the capacity of a 5 year old, who was never able to accept her fear of him. He clung to the idea they'd be together again, because it was love. Destined. Never-mind the fact she pissed on herself at times when he pulled up in their yard. She was too ashamed to tell them that, she told me... It fueled my hate. She never told the rest anything because she knew they were enamored by him. She only had her family really - eventually they all faded away from her too. He has that effect on those he carefully crafted a fake nostalgia with, and those mentally compromised- both of those tethered. Some are so removed from emotion they act like her life was some distant unrelated string of events. Somehow his age and subsequent role as grandfather herofied being a pimp and drug dealer became worthy of forgiveness, and I'm the bitch for not giving him what he always wanted - to have Vicky, our mother, be given less.

Less respect.
Less love.
Less acceptance.
Less loyalty.

In the end he got all that from them - he won through them. I knew that never winning me would hurt him the most. I looked like her ... I represented her in his mind. I didn't give him what he wanted. I told her I wouldn't - I kept my word. Daughters who love their mother do ...

Denied motherfucker. Denied.

Things I accept.

Things I accept.
Passively.
Aggressively.
Sadly.

I will never have sisters or brothers to go grow old with...I will never know what it means to sister whisper or to look into my siblings eyes and feel that connection of,  "here is where I belong."

Not because I don't have any - I have many. There are many of us- the us he created. We're all broken; isolated; fearful; distrusting... Us. The us that can't soften, nor bend ...  Nor reach to one another. That would be weakness. That would be certain emotional ruin. I've breathed that poison most my life, its thickness nearly drowned me. Always pulling me under,  then in ... I barely knew me from her and her from me. Was it me?

The Button.

Truth is - I fucking hated that wooden button. That button was a gash - a bleeding infection that never ceased to ooze its contents onto my innocent hands. No child should ever  have to fucking cope with those wounds... I know this now.  I no longer have the wooden button, I let it go when I let them go.
We were tangled, pitiful... always mourning a childhood we never had. He made everything sick. No one knew - except her, the mother, who was so far from reality at times, I often thought her a dream. A figment of my imagination. Her drunkenness and need for male attention seeped into the kisses she gave me; the songs she sang me.

I loved her still. 
I didn't know the wrong in it all, or know the life long pain it would cause me - cause them, even if their exposure was minimal. He left his scent on us...

Things I accept.
Passively.
Aggressively.
Sadly.

I will never know the feeling of loving a sibling as I love myself.

homeless

Amandine Van Ray

curious at my own change

validating the harsh sense of self

feeling lesser than what I am

 tho I am loved so strongly by him

still struggle to see my worth

he assures me of abundance

yet I feel bankrupt

empty pocketed and sitting

on cardboard boxes beneath vents

to grip their warmth in my skin

admittedly I like my coldness 

the frigidness of my protective veneer

keeps me from cracking deeper by

the pressure of unwanted emotion

forgotten doll

I'll lie there with you ...
Look into my reflection from the glint in your eye,
The girl I was, time has made me no more...
I'll whisper, "I don't care...that sweet little lie made me smile."
We'll talk about what never was - like long lost friends ...
Embrace-but awkwardly, I don't fucking know you anymore.
You can pick at my threads, watch me unravel ...
Flick my skin and see my layers ripple...
I'd let you do anything- just as I let you do nothing ...
I'll be silent as you decide to where you'll lay me ...

Until we do this all over again.

I don't fucking know you anymore... But I'll still wait - because I once did.

A Virtuous Lie

 

 parts my lips

tempts my tongue
bitten
stricken
but not purged
unchallenged within
a merciless criticism
silence is tolerant
I am no longer a child

Prayer of The Human Condition

Stopping to ponder on insecurities, I found my own coalescing and threatening mutiny. I've grown bored of my usual haunts. Stretched beyond what my mind can conjure interest. Where there once was fertile soil, now barren fields of apathy go on as far as the mind can perceive. Ghosts forever taunt me; forever are in misery of every loving thought I hold. They sleep in my shadows, lie in my bed, burrow next to my cold skin. Fluted music, melody once as sweet to me as nectarines, have soured in my ear, in my throat … In my heart.

Here, wrapped in my anonymity, forcibly restrained by my own frailties. Bound are my feet by birth; my hands by class; my will by the servitude of my sex.

I am nothing more than a servant, humbled to thee by chance- enshrined in memory of none. Lost in my wander, feverishly beckoning to those who pass me by. 

See me for what I am not, not what I am. Want for what I am not, not what I am.

Let me glisten under light not found by common experience. Let me dance in the rain not fell upon spoiled ground. 

Do not let me languish or despair my circumstance. Keep me from brushing into mires of thorns; words  of brutal sacrifice; in feelings of inequity. Let me reflect upon me as a smile... A casual touch of warmth or even slight glint of eye.

hand-me-down

                                                                                              Wyatt Mills

Scents, words, a scene

My mouth is moving
the voice isn't mine

It is his

I'm not running

I'm still; flat against the earth

My ears pound 

The struggle to fade into the surrounding sand

Can't sink deep enough though... not to disappear 
Silence

Silence becomes a sentence of infinite time 

It never fucking goes away. 

Like clay, I'll reform myself into a ball, firm and smooth

My feet get so fucking weary of this same 

This road that never seems to fucking ever end 

 "Fucking" becomes the only word that I can FUCKING say 

 I've been a FUCK because I didn't think I had worth
 A garment

 A hand-me-down 

 No longer valued; worn

Those around you become facilitators 

Of self abuse
DIDN'T you see that I was broken 
I watched as you stepped over the pieces of me 

You turned back, selfishly, to bend and take

Cast down; unwanted

No parts of me were salvageable

 

In A Change ...

If you have noticed my posts are gone - good. I'm changing things around. Life is progress, I'm progressing.

"Utopia is the grotesque en rose, the need to associate happiness -- that is, the improbable -- with becoming, and to coerce an optimistic, aerial vision to the point where it rejoins its own source: the very cynicism it sought to combat. In short, a monstrous fantasy."~ E.M. Cioran.

The more you expand - take in, of others who at first seem to share your skepticism and passion to learn, the more you realize its limited capacity to do so. Limited to religion, science and medicine and stunted by dissonance and group ideological thinking. The more time you spend reading their shared views and whatever information they part your way - the less you view them as autonomous. Free - thought applies only to the expression or expansion of their worldviews, or their utopia, heaven or nirvana, complete with rapture.

Politics is the 'creationism' of Atheism. Atheists cease to use skepticism; logic and reason in order to validate their adherence to a political party. They, as creationists posting ICR links, will relay links and media they haven't researched or most times even read. They support the news and views within with blind faith. They post relentlessly the scripture of their political ideology - no matter the lack of merit or truth. Rub their nose in their apparent dissonance - and you will be transported into a familiar scene of debating the creationist. Fallacious reasoning and logical fallacies coupled with refusal to give reliable source, or any source to back assertions is usually ended with an emotional plea - a ridiculous one. Reject their personal "experiences," and you'll be "damned," or be told "You're not a real Atheist..."

I'm a blog reader - I read many blogs by my fellow Atheists. They inevitably all cover the same topics, over and over again. In humor, I call the topics the "Sutras of Atheism". There are times when I stumble across a person, who has retained their skepticism and has somehow managed to escape the ideological thinking that is becoming more and more present in Atheism as it grows in numbers. As we en masse in numbers and voice- the more we assemble a religion, complete with a rapture and heaven.

The 'rapture' is the rise of reason and enlightenment to man - religion will fall from the minds of all. We will be lifted from the tyranny of religion and given new life through knowledge. Following the rapture we will attain freedom from all abuse, all war, all the things that make us human or animals. Sin - aka ignorance, is the cause of all evil, and therefore"'knowledge" is the opposite or "good, benevolent and true".... 

We shall acquire this from repentance/atonement from our worship and adherence to religion. Knowledge  becomes God- and is omni-benevolent. Not sure what happens to those not allowed in the Atheist Utopia - I've read they get to sit it out and suffer their religion, separated from us(like hell, separated from God) who have attained heaven, so as not to bring us harm. 

Utopia - has a limited space and has criteria for entry, much like Heaven. In this heaven, utopia or nirvana, we shall implement religion, cough - excuse me, rules for the care and betterment of all man. Who will decide these rules and the direction of care and betterment for all man ? Well it's only natural those with power and with higher degrees of enlightenment shall rule our Kingdom, our Paradise. 

The promises of our reason are many.... Our God, we reinvent, is immune to rebuke and all created or done under its name is to be glorified. 

Reminds me of those seeking to be freed from the Church Of England, who then instituted the very thing they ran from ...  Or the quote I placed at the very top of this blog for that matter. It reminds me of many nations through out history and their societies. 

Much like theists, who now ignore science,  physics and etc out of dissonance, so shall we ignore what we know to be true in order to facilitate a lie we need to comfort ourselves with... We know what's best for all of mankind, right? 

Yea. 

We ignore the sciences too - in order to promote our Utopia - "fuzzy" for fuzzy logic. 

On a recent documentary titled "Universe," a scientist discussed the application of the 2nd Law of Thermodynamics in relation to social behaviors and societies. This is the same law and example I've read many times by atheists when predicting the end of theism- yet seem to think ours is immune or that the rise of atheism or etc - is not part of the decay, or the reality of social entropy and the further complexity of our social structure. Every system we develop requires energy- and gains in complexity, it grows exponentially in its needs...

Follow up reading is recommended on the topic of macro-sociological systems theory.

Laughing In The Calm

A few things I've learned:

Our social issues or behaviors can trap us and prevent progress.

Our refusal to admit to ourselves who we are and what we really want or need allows us to keep blaming everyone else for choices we make and circumstances that result.

 Local life is brutal. It's a never ending cycle of fucking themselves over. I've come to conclude they do so in order to hide self responsibility. It's a pattern of self abuse, debasement and desperation.

Recently someone tried to incite drama with me over a many years ago sex partner. It failed. I'm 41... Not 14. I'm married, and after everything I have been through, having children, growing up and learning to love myself and Jeff - my views have seriously changed. I've learned what love is ... It isn't desperation. That's fear...  I've had enough fear in my life. I don't want to just "have" someone - I want someone who I know, without doubt, loves me. I want it all... I don't have to settle. Saddens me to think of the times that I did. That was cowardly of me. It was desperate.

I suppose they thought I'd be jealous at the "players" in the script - but I'm not. I cared for them at one time - both I understand better than they understand themselves. One is desperate for a quasi-love/warm body to come home to, the other desperate for finances and easy keep ... No one doubts this, even if a stout defense is laid up. However, how is this wrong as long as both are being fulfilled? That may sound cold -but if both are happy, both are adults and it is consensual, why care? I have no doubt the woman involved can handle herself or any man - they will get the fuckin' boot... She doesn't bend much.

That opinion landed me in quite the argument...

I think that it may work out because both are supplying a need/want to the other. It's mutual. People act shocked, but really he would have been a perfect pick for her a long time ago. As for the odd woman out - she is young and average looking, but in a good way. She has issues which have been added to by the situation she has freed herself from. This is healthy for her. She will heal, rebuild herself and maybe refocus and eventually happen upon a love meant for her. One that doesn't hurt. One that helps you grow, not shrink.

We all have one - I hope. In any case I can't understand why people thought I'd respond different ...

I'm getting old and soft :P

Circulation

Homeschooling blogs/pages and articles on parenting will make you feel ... Blah.

They are soooo perfect.

Who are these moms that seem so organised and insanely... perfect?

I make playdoh, paints... I do crafts. I sing songs(sure they may be somewhat inappropriate ones, but I sing dammit) ...

I do "stuff."

Enough on that feeling inadequate. I need to swell with pride, not shrink with self doubt ...

Even as Taylor sits on couch naked eating peanut butter out of jar with a spoon. 

Moving on.

Fucking Nudges With Borg Mentaility.

Just as with most religions, atheism has a nasty head that rears when you don't speak of the "movement" with flattery or exalt it to some type of superior realm of being... aka bullshit. Atheism is nothing more than a disbelief in gods. It doesn't say you're smarter, more kind, more giving ... It doesn't say anything of you as a person - other than you don't believe in God or Gods...

Neither does saying irreligious...

Often I run into minds that think ideologically and pull out their fangs when I say something that cuts against the barrage of nonsense people spew on their pages in support of atheism - what I feel is becoming as convoluted as religions. Why? Because that's what humans do. We take a simple term and make it into a complex idea with commandments ... We develop a necessity to say it's "perfect" or defend it zealously - even when it lacks merit.

This is why atheism to me is becoming more and more everyday like an ideological mind fuck where you can't speak out honestly about issues we have in our community... You will always have those who are fucking zealots, and who like to pretend all is peachy fucking keen. They will write blogs, statuses and articles all puking the same shit on the virtues of atheism. They'll write on many subjects they never ACT on...

Those things have became like prayers... A useless motion that allows a fake sense of accomplishment while doing nothing. "Like" on Facebook has become as a prayer ... Doing something, while doing nothing.

Letting Motherhood Ghosts Fade

Another point of realization ..

I'm the only one for Alex and Tabitha to blame - I'm the only parent they can hurt with words and actions. I'm the only one they can make cry, punish or hold accountable- because I'm the only one who cares. 

I am the bad one, the deceiver, the boogie man, the destroyer of lives... Even though I wasn't alone, I'm alone in all the blame. I'm to blame for the needle; the fights; the turning inward and depression ... I'm to blame for working too many hours, not being there for school and meals ... everything a mother should be there for.

It's all on my shoulders ...

I was just trying to keep us alive - but that will never be enough of an excuse or reason. But I am, and always will be the blame. There is no one else for them to hurt that would care. They never stop to think of me, and what I went through - kids never do. They never stop to think how depressed, defeated and lost I was while watching my world fall apart, and knowing nothing that I did could repair. I fell so deep and hard - to a low point that I put a loaded 357 to my head while sitting on the very bed my children slept on. I just wanted to die. I just wanted to sleep. I wanted to do that every day - for the longest time.

So I get full doses for both us ... Just like my mother did ...

I've come to conclude I will never have a normal relationship with either of my two adult children - they're still blaming me. I'm still their crutch for every wrong in their life... I'm the only one they can focus the hurt on. I'm to blame for both their personality flaws, though the coldness comes from their dad, well as a few other traits. 

He was always so cold. Always. At least to us.

I'm to blame for Tabitha's material obsessions- I bought her everything to make up for not being there.  So now she admires people who have lots of material items ... She has always looked up to other women more than me. It was this way with her first boyfriends mom, and now the second. They share things in common on physical possessions or desiring physical possessions, where worth is defined by items. She's the daughter they always wanted - and the daughter I always needed (minus the material garbage)but will never have, because I don't meet her requirements monetarily.

I'm to blame for Alex's slow demise into his pit of nothing - his cocoon of "I hate mom and all things she touches." I don't think he realizes - ultimately he holds the keys to his happiness... Most of it is wrapped up in his obsession with the internet.

My life has had good times- but a very cruel unlimited amount of bad. I've been raped, molested, psychically and emotionally abused .. I've been poorer than poor... Below poverty level... I've survived more in the first 12 years of my life than most have lived in 40. I can't blame my mother or father for the actions I have made as an adult. They may have helped shape me - but I am responsible for all that I have done, and made by choice.

I own myself, and all the wrong I have done - and the good I have created.

Someday I hope my two adult children can say the same... I hope one day they overcome their self induced handicaps and bullshit .. and learn to own themselves. 

My "New Years" resolution is to stop being the blame. Learn to carry your own fucking selves and learn to accept personal responsibility for who you are today. Either get well or commit emotional death ... Mom is officially tired of being your trash can. I'm not the band-aid to all that ills you ...

Look, it's not you... It's my inner demons and the psychotic hopscotch with my battered inner child. So blame your insecurities all on me and wrap yourself in sexual malignancy.

Perhaps I'll shed a tear.

I wouldn't wait though -I'm too busy swatting at buzzing bees.