BELOW THE FOLD!?!

 

A Stranger -- A Perfect Circle

The Thirteenth Step

What if you just keep trying to complete the first twelve steps but you fail to realize, every single time you wind up back in the bottle, that there's a thirteenth step? 

And, of course, now that you've heard about it, you want to know what it is, don't you?

I'm sure of it. 

Just as sure as I am that you'll have to actually complete the other twelve steps in their entirety, successfully, before the thirteenth will be revealed to you. 

I also know that the very thing that you hate so much about all of us is the very thing in this whole world that you wish that you had. Unconditional love and acceptance. A peaceful home where your soul can rest and in which you can be completely yourself and at ease, knowing that the ones who are there with you really do love you. I guess it's easier to hate people and drive them away than it is to face the reality of your own actions and the accountability of the consequences of those actions. 

Cast the

calming apple

Up and over

satellites

To draw out the 

timid wild one

To convince you

it's alright

And I listen for

the whisper

Of your sweet

insanity

While I formulate 

denials

Of your effect on me

You're a stranger

So what do I care?

You vanished today

Not the first time

I hear

All the lies

What am I to do with 

all this silence?

Shy away, shy

away phantom

Run away, 

terrified child

Won't you move

away you fuckin' 

tornado

I'm better off

without you 

Tearing' my will down 

--Billy Howerdel, Maynard James Keenan

When you're tired of all of it, come back, won't you? To this life, this reality, this family, this world, this unique existence. 

And, if you're ready then, maybe I'll tell you a story.

All's Well That Ends -- Rainbow Kitten Surprise

[originally written in 2019]

A few events have happened of late that have guided me back to this page and the lessons I've lived through and shared here. I keep writing. Sometimes the subject I begin writing about writes itself around to the subject of grief and loss.

There are so many types of loss in life. People come into our lives and leave again in many different ways. I have sought the words to comfort those that I see around me who are struggling with grief and I keep coming back to the same idea despite the details of who I am considering offering comforting words. No matter what the conditions of loss are, the details surrounding your grief--whether you've lost a loved one, changed jobs, moved to a new home, or ended a relationship, you will face grief. Grief is a unique experience for everyone in each and every encounter with loss and should always be approached without judgement of the bereaved and how they express and experience that grief. That is what makes this subject difficult to discuss--we do not wish to cause anyone any more suffering than they are already enduring.

Attachment causes suffering. We become attached to people, places, things, routines, and feelings. It's only when something changes that we begin to notice how that one seemingly singular change has caused chain a reaction in every other aspect of our lives. The desire for the reversal of these changes is what truly causes our suffering. We remember the way things were before and long to return to that state. This is not possible. You cannot go back in time. You cannot undo what has been done. This is the most difficult realization of all to actually internalize, I think. Despite knowing that we can't reverse changes in life, we sometimes still behave as though we fully expect everything to be exactly the same.

[ unfinished piece written in 2019. My thoughts: I like radical acceptance for the unexpected things that happen in life. I also like that I am confident enough in both myself and also my faith that there is goodness in the world—so much so that I continue to walk away from the negative situations that I find myself in with the utmost faith that something better is bound to come next.  I just let go and believe. ]

Salt -- Bad Suns

[originally written March 2019]

I try to be nice. I try to be good. I sincerely make every effort conceivable to think before I respond.

Hormones have other, more sinister designs on my behavior patterns. When God gave us the lovely subscription to Crimson Tide Monthly he, unfortunately, failed to also give us a warning label. Not that it would have mattered--most people ignore caution labels and warning signs until they make the mistakes for themselves. That's when you do the real learning, anyway...

...I have been struggling lately with the nagging feeling that I need to write something that may be of use to those who are having difficult times. I have recently become acutely aware of just how few people actually understand and accept me exactly as I am. The list seems to be shrinking rather than growing, however, and although I have come to accept that very few people will ever truly know me, I must figure out a way to communicate effectively with those who do not. It is imperative that I successfully convey the messages I am creating to an audience that does not think the same way that I do. And therein lies the obstacle I face in writing my current project.

How do I communicate a message to someone who is not yet prepared to receive it?

And the answer is simple. I don't.

That's the beauty of my current project--it is a multifaceted, multi-layered story that appeals to people of different life skill levels while offering the opportunity to develop the skills necessary to read beyond the lines of the story and consider the deeper meanings of its lessons and the practical application of its concepts...

...Annnnnndddd if I haven't bored you straight away from the page...

My point in writing this blog was to rant, as usual. So I'll get to it:

When I see others suffering, it is my instant and instinctual response to want to ease that suffering. I can see in others what I have suffered in the past and want so badly to teach others what I have learned in having reached the other side. I want to use my journey through the darkness of depression and grief as a springboard to help others who are still deep in hopelessness. I want to try to make the journey through that darkness a little easier on others to bear.

And yet I keep coming back to the same dilemma: how can I help those who don't think they need help? How can I help those who don't even know they need help? How can I help those who are not receptive and responsive to my messages?

Maybe I just wait longer?



What no one realizes is that I actually live by this pretty rigid set of rules that I've designed for myself and sometimes I am truly incapable of acting in such a way that goes against them. For example, when someone is very rude or mean to me in public, instead of being my usual snarky self, as I would with my family, I just get completely paralyzed at the thought of being exceptionally rude or impolite sometimes. And yet, I can be so wrapped up in whatever it is that I'm doing that I accidentally come off as really rude and inconsiderate. It's obliviousness on my part sometimes. OTHER TIMES IT’S JUST THE HORMONES AND THE NEED TO CALL PEOPLE OUT ON THEIR BULLSHIT. Could go either way, really. 

All These Things That I've Done -- The Killers

[originally written March 2019]

I'm pretty good at telling stories so I'm just going to stick to what I know.

So much has happened and I don't know where to even begin. Jonathan's birthday reminded me of how much I'm still grieving. I have started so many somber blog posts that I never finished and never published. I don't want to share these things with anyone else sometimes. So I'm not going to, and you'll just have to deal with it.

I tried to get a second job. In fact, I had one for one work week. For one week I worked six days, and on the seventh day I had a fever and my whole body ached. And early that morning I got a message wanting me to *surprise!* come in for some work related training. I declined, and, after raging for a while to myself and my friend through text, sent an email stating that I didn't think that the position was right for me after all. So that was that.

I have spent several hours last night and this morning job hunting online. And instead of spending too much of my time looking for another part time job, I'm just going to treat my writing as my other part time job. It's probably what I should have been doing this whole time anyway.

This whole time I've been really worried about being good enough. Is my writing good enough? And for what? It doesn't matter anymore. All that matters is that I do it. That's why I'm here. Let's have a story...

Most people get asked, when they're children, what they want to be when they grow up. I've never really grown up so I still think in terms of, "when I grow up I'm going to ..." It feels really silly, and naive, after I've written it down, but Anna Lee pointed out to me that I can do whatever I want. And the way she said it is crucial. She did this whole face where she raises her eyebrows, tilts her head, and looks at me like I'm an idiot, and says, "You can do," and here she gestures with both hands, "Whatever you want!"

Maybe, if I ever grow up, I want to be everything??? What if I want to learn it all? Everything that I can possibly absorb? My entire life? What's to stop me? Apparently nothing. I can one-class-at-a-time it through various degrees until the end of time. So that's what I'm going to focus my energy on--learning everything that I can possibly learn. Everyone my entire life has told me, pushed me, "encouraged" me, if you will, to teach. And I thought that I would eventually develop the patience for  it. Perhaps, in time, I will. I still think that what I originally said about writing a great book is applicable to teaching...maybe a certain level of learning and life experience is necessary for me to do either one of those things to the ability to which I both know that I can perform and execute them (which obviously has to be perfect). And--before you point it out from your armchair--therein lies the problem. I seek perfection. In all things. My current job--I expect perfection of my performance there. I don't always achieve that, but I consistently out perform everyone else.

The more I write, the more I realize things about myself. Things that are not easily changed in behavior therapy. Maybe I'm just completely fucked as a person. All righty then.

I Don't Wanna Talk (I Just Wanna Dance)--Glass Animals

(originally published 3/3/25 at 11:30 PM, and going back up because WHY THE FUCK NOT!!! Also, I'm using the term lady pretty generously in reference to this person and learned a few weeks or so ago that she was no longer employed with the provider of these parenting classes! Who would have thought?!?! I mean, I certainly thought she sucked at her job, but maybe her goal was to make me a worse parent? She didn't succeed. After she left for the last time, in next morning, after writing these two entries the night before, I skateboarded to the library and checked out a decent selection of parenting books and tried to learn more about what I have been doing incorrectly in setting boundaries and enforcing rules. Parenting is difficult. Parenting teens after being a survivor of domestic violence and abuse is nightmarish. Still, I persist.)

Thank God that I only had to deal with this lady for about an hour and a half today. It’s a good thing that she didn’t stay the whole two hours because I don’t know that I could have sat here the whole time without eventually being like WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU, LADY?!?!

We talked about fires. I am not sure why this lady keeps bringing it up but every time she comes here, I have added a new candle to the growing collection on the kitchen counter (besides some icing-crusted birthday candles there are a whopping four). The latest two have Jesus on them and I’m pretty sure they’re made for super religious people or something, but, they were on sale and it’s almost Zombie Jesus Day, so I found it pretty fitting and I can light each one and say a prayer for each child. It seemed right to me. I didn’t share any of this with the woman who comes to teach me about bad parenting. 

Well, anyway, today she tells me about her brother setting shredded paper in bags by the kindling on their back porch on fire with a lighter. TWICE. And both times he ran away and the mom put the fire out and the Dad “wore him out” when he got home from work. And I’m like ooooookkkkkkkk….and proceed to say that I guessed that we learned about how to deal with fires because our family goes camping every year and we were taught how to make a fire with a big ring of stones and when breaking camp, you separate all the remaining coals and pour water over everything until there is no more smoke at all so there aren’t forest fires. 

What I don’t understand about any of this is that—and let’s be clear: I was prepared to teach people how to teach other people English as a subject for higher education—what I understood about teaching is that making a connection is important to a degree, but coming to a basic understanding of what their knowledge is about whatever the subject is and then working from there is also pretty fucking important. So is having a lesson plan and being able to stick to it even when being distracted. I've tried it before. I didn't particularly like it but I know how it's supposed to be done. What am I to understand when every conversation with this lady has an ever increasing severity of alarming behavior related therein? That she is purely a psychopath? Or that she has no idea what she’s doing for her job and so is sharing really “relatable” stories to me in some kind of weird effort to get me to confess..what exactly? That I’ve yelled at my kids? I told her today, the kids act like they’re offended by yelling but we’re all yelling all the time, just in a different sort of way. I told her about yelling at them the other morning for waking me up to tell me they were worried that they wouldn’t get enough sleep and I’m like uh…wake from a dead sleep and suddenly I’m like uh yeah, me too! Now I’m worried about it and when I woke up later that morning, instantly angry about it I got up and yelled at everyone about guess what guys!!! You weren’t very nice to me and woke me up and now I’m mad about it, it’s time to get up, then I turn on music and yell about being tired again before they get ready and go on to school. And over the weekend I yelled at Addison about her not pulling out to make a left turn during church traffic! How horrible! Yes, was I being overly dramatic? Could I have stifled myself and we all have been a little happier, maybe. I was yelling because I'm afraid to die while listening to someone else's playlist! My kids yell at me because I can't fucking hear a goddamn thing! Even then, I'm like come over here because I can't hear what you're saying!

Part of what she said today was that her niece and her daughter would fight so much that she felt like she was just the referee and mimed pulling them apart. I don’t think I even bother to hide my horror at all anymore because what is the fucking point??? If you aren’t telling me this because you are trying to increase the shock value to eventually provoke some particular response—I’m not quite sure yet what that is—then what are you even doing? Are you actually a complete and utter psychopath or moron or both? What is happening here? 

What I wanted to say at this point is that I don’t even allow my kids to fight in the house. If they want to hit each other, they have to go outside in the front yard or the street or something [lol, like the hooligans they are *shaking my fist in the air while I tell the kids to get off the grass*]. How I wanted to respond to this tidbit here was not how things went. She wanted to leave, she kept looking at her phone. Her kid texts incessantly and calls her multiple times sometimes, which I can totally understand, so at least some of what she says may be true? Who really knows or cares? Once I’m done writing this, I’m done with that whole situation. BUT ANYWAY, back to my kids. They can fight, that’s fine, but it better not get beyond some quiet squabbling because if I hear anything more than that I’m intervening or yelling too and it gets really annoying if every one is yelling, “Mah-ooooooooooooom!!!!” like three different Quinns. Because, sometimes I will either join in at yelling for Mom or yell, “Kids!” Or, “I heard everything from in here and you are gonna have to settle that between yourselves! That’s kid’s stuff!!” Because it is! And I cannot always hear exactly what was said in the other rooms, but most of the time I can tell it’s not that serious. It never really is. Sometimes, if I am privy to the whole argument—usually a “joke” at the other’s expense that falls flat, then I will intervene and say, “Hey, that’s not very nice!” when necessary. 

During these...meetings I am quite reluctant to deem classes, it sometimes it feels like I barely get a word in edgewise. Today she had told me she wasn’t going to stay the whole time so it seemed even more rushed on her part, to tell me all these weird and differently shocking things. And unless I interrupt her (and even then she looks offended and STARTS BACK WHERE SHE LEFT OFF LIKE I HAD NEVER SAID ANYTHING IN THE FIRST PLACE) and anyway… She made a whole big deal about describing in detail what empathy is—putting yourself in someone else’s shoes—and then asks me about it and I’m like but of course, because that’s how I actually feel about everything. What if that was you? I wanted to ask her if she ever thought about that lady that in last week’s story whom she claimed to have thrown the marker at her head, but I didn’t because I figured it wasn’t very nice to point out other’s bad behavior. Not only are you a grown up motherfucker, but you should actually know more than I fucking do on this subject if it is your goddamn job to be able to teach other people to do it. I honestly don’t know what to make of it. 

Unusually preoccupied with fire, as always, she brings up her daughter has taught another small child how to light a lighter and that’s how that whole brother lighting the back porch on fire story started. And I had said that Steven had taught them at the 4th of July. But maybe it was really only Bella and maybe Addison who didn’t know? They were able to light sparklers for the holiday and seemed excited to be able to do it! I’m not completely sure which kids learned to use a lighter and when, but that’s not the most important thing because, and she’s said this at least once before, if not multiple times as a passing comment, but she keeps saying that all kids are bad. And today I just couldn’t let that go. I did say something. I said that I don’t really believe that because I was the kid who didn’t want to ruffle feathers, cause problems, get into trouble, be the reason that there is unnecessary conflict. This lead to me saying that I would rather just avoid any sort of conflict or whatever with seeing the same therapy provider as my children. (Why would I change something again if it's unnecessary?) I don’t get it, but anyway, I told her that I had stopped seeing the therapist here mainly because she would cancel a lot at the last minute and that me and one of the kids had the same therapist for a little bit but that I had to stop seeing them because I needed to be more consistent with when I was being seen. I never had a chance to tell the lady that my actual past therapist was always ill too, and I knew that, which is why I wasn’t angry about the situation, but I didn’t get to comment on any of that at all, of course. Not only that, but the fact that she immediately went on a whole rant about turning in someone (look it was confusing because she was talking about two different things and then she switched in the middle and I just don’t ask questions if I can help it BECAUSE IT’S QUICKER) to their staff manager or some shit like that because they had kept cancelling client’s appointments and she “wasn’t doing her job” and my comment, which I have said before and I will say it again, if you can’t be kind to the people that you are serving as part of your position, be it teacher, doctor, or literally any other profession where you interact with other people at any time, if you can’t have the decency to both be competent at your job and also be prepared to learn new things, ask for help, be humble when you don’t know something, let someone correct you while doing something incorrectly to show you the proper way…OR if, in any of those situations, or any other situation that has to do with your job you can’t NOT ACT LIKE A COMPLETELY DERANGED PSYCHO then WHY ON GOD’S FUCKING EARTH WOULD YOU TAKE SUCH AN IMPORTANT, PEOPLE-CENTRIC POSITION!?!?!?! 

[Side Note: Like, I don’t care how many times that you tell me that serial killers play in candles, I’m still gonna pour hot wax right out onto this table glass whenever I feel like it and make a little wax sculpture out of it JUST BECAUSE I WANT TO!!!]

And the truth of it is that a lot of the pressure to remain in a job that you're neither good at or qualified for is that we live in a capitalist society. Because what I am really hearing is that this lady is struggling. And not just in her personal life. It really seems like she is struggling to also understand what it takes to be a "professional" at work. (Believe me, I know exactly what it takes, I am just unwilling to do it for any amount of money--corporate ass-kissing will never be something that I secretly yearn for) I believe I said that in my other post (not the very last one, I was a little hangry, I will admit, while writing that last one), and that she, like me and everyone else, probably needs some therapy or a friend in which to confide. Probably a job or even--dare I say it--a CAREER change?!?! Possibly some more job training, education, and an etiquette lesson. I have a list. But that is neither here nor there. This is the job she has and she has to go to it every day so that she can raise her own children, however poorly she likes. I decided that I didn’t want to do that kind of thing as a job. No office, no boss, no quota, no baseline. People I meet and help in my life aren’t a quota to meet, a baseline to hit. When I commit myself to helping someone, I usually do it simply out of the goodness of my heart, because to NOT do it —whatever the sometimes small and simple kind task may be—would pain my heart so and weigh on my soul. 

I guess I just keep coming back to the help not being worth getting sometimes. The hoops that you have to jump through to receive the bare minimum help in a situation in which you haven’t ever lived before... Of course you’re going to trust that whoever has come claiming to be able to help you will be capable of doing so. But. Don’t sit in my tiny kitchen and tell me that all children are bad. A person who says that all children are bad must truly be a non-empathetic and especially non-clairvoyant asshole. All children are tiny clones of the people around them. The learn what they see, they say things that they hear, they do things that they see other people doing. They know what is ingrained in their genes from before they were born because of the trauma of their lineage. Pick up a journal article and read some cutting-edge science. Do anything to educate yourself on any of the things that you should not only already have an extensive knowledge of, but should also always be staying abreast of for the sake of always knowing the latest advancements in your field. But, please, for the love of God, do not blame these little children for their environments and do not label them all bad.

The post before last, I was very careful to say how can I sit in judgement of others and still learn? Now I am saying, you know what, “yeah, I don’t believe all kids are bad because I lived it. I never waned to be bad. I never wanted to get into trouble.” The truth is that the few times that I got into “trouble” it was because I didn’t understand either the rules of the society (like a fucking new human), because I was defending myself, or because I didn’t understand the rules of the environment, be it home, out in public, at church, at school, as a visitor in someone’s home, as a hostess in a home, or even at a job. I may not be able to say anything (can you imagine how long the conversations would be if I commented on everything that I wanted to!?!?!) or even do anything about all the other crazy fucking stories that I hear every time I see this lady, but I can come here and let you guys know all about it.

So just to wrap up, come back to the campfire circle with me and put a stick in the flames. We have rules around here, ya know. I’d tell you what they are, but then I’d have to make you ACTUALLY learn something USEFUL, and who has time for that? 

Don’t forget to tip your servers and tell people when they suck! Thanks for coming to my BethSquawk, (C).

Also, this was in a comment, which should reappear with the post, but to clarify: I can be mean. I have been mean. I will be mean. But can't we all, haven't we all, fallen short of the perfection that has been demanded of us as humans? Sometimes, when people are mean, it's because they're hurt and lashing out unnecessarily. Sometimes it's because you suck and need to hear that you do. 

3WW—alt-J

(originally posted on 3/3/25, and it needs to be back on there!)

I changed my mind; you can do whatever you want with the following information, I no longer care….

I was supposed to be having a parenting class to help me with my teenager who hates going to school. I’m already disgruntled because his…ahem… father couldn’t parent himself out of a wet paper bag. BUT WHATEVER. 

So the first day she’s really late. Ok whatever. Move on, do the thing, put in the effort. Be polite, respond to questions, ask for clarification…

As the weeks go by, she is helplessly and relentlessly late, sometimes hours so, and her stories get more and more horrifying with each visit. 

First she tells me about leaving her toddler with cleaning supplies in reach and finding him mixing them together!?!?

Then she tells me that she taught her niece to ask the boys a the school dance to buy her snacks so she didn’t have to spend her money.

Ok yiiiiikkkkkeeeeessss….and all this time I am at a loss of how to respond, I just keep saying, “Wow,” and, “okay,” and praying to god the horror on my face is not as apparent as it feels. 

Last week she told me about throwing a marker at a woman at the social security office and wanting it to hit her but she ducked. (What. The. Fuck.) And then she laughed about it. I didn’t hide my shock and horror or bother trying. I said any time anyone in a position like that had been rude or unnecessarily mean to me I just cried, even if I was mad sad whatever, tears every time. Tears and just leave to avoid further abuse from the offending party. 

Week after week I relate all of this to my buddies at work in a lighthearted manner. I laugh about it a lot because if I didn’t laugh, I would be crying. 

One week she brought another lady and I am hoping that this is her replacement that she’s training, because she was much more suitable for the position, even if she didn’t remember my name. She seemed very sincere in wanting to help others. I don’t know how I feel about this other person anymore….

I want to be nice and try to be cordial but if this weren’t ending next week I’d be requesting to have a different teacher. I would genuinely like to learn things that I don’t yet know, BUT I NEED SOMEONE WISER THAN ME!!!!    

This week she tells me that her Dad made her rick all the wood as a kid but never her brother, which she didn’t understand. She said she had to throw it off the truck and then take it and rick it all up again. Still, I just said, “Wow.” I think that’s all I said. I didn’t know how to reply. All I know is that I can hardly ever get a word in edgewise before she’s on to the next, crazier story. What I wanted to say here was why on earth are you throwing all this wood around, why not just carry it directly from the truck to where it’s supposed to go!?!? but, AGAIN, not my place. What could I possibly know about doing anything!?! I’m in the position of needing help/assistance/being a dummo. :/

So then she tells me that she was getting called to the school all the time because they were trying to suspend her son or fail him or something anyway one story she told was getting called to the school because he used the words, “I’ll kill you!” Of course I was horrified but, hopefully kept my face from showing it (probably did not succeed but I thought about it anyway) and said that yeah you have to be careful about what you say even if it is just a “figure of speech” because children don’t know the difference. I gave the example of bleeping myself when my own children were young so that they wouldn’t continue to pick up on my propensity for such filthy language.

The story I shared was one of the only times that I have ever been called to go to the school that my kid wasnt sick or something and that’s when my eldest and most headstrong child decided to take a card that I had bought multiples of for all my sisters and gave it to a boy at school for valentines day. Now, a card is seemingly harmless but this one happened to have a guy wearing daisy duke jorts on it, the man posing in front of the Eiffel Tower. When I came in snickers had died down and when they asked me if I had ever seen this card I was like um yeah I bought like five the other day and lost one, OR SO I THOUGHT. And everyone thought it was hilarious, they all laughed, I laughed and apologized profusely and went on my way. Ha!

But this person’s stories??? I hope they are stories because it just kinda got worse? She talked about holding her niece down with her whole body, “to let her know everything was going to be alright.” Again, I say nothing, because what the fuck!?!? I don’t think it’s alright for anyone to hold a kid down like that against their will unless they’re in danger of actually thrashing about so much that they’re a danger to themselves—and that’s called a seizure. 

So. I just can’t. I have tried and tried with this person. I get it, I was late to everything for years and years!!! I get it…I get that lesson.,,but what about the rest of it!?!? Why did the people at your last job not like you? Why did you tell me that people have hunted you down because of your job? I kinda feel like if you were helping the people that you were supposed to be helping, maybe they wouldn’t want to hunt you down!?!? I don’t want to hunt this lady down for any reason whatsoever, and, in fact, I am hoping, after our last class, that I never have to gaze upon her visage ever again. Lord help me hold my tongue!!!

I’m supposed let things go. Dennis warned me a few years ago that I was gonna stroke out if I didn’t and today my sister reminded me of the sentiment. 

Soooooooo….FUCK IT. Come tell me how awful you are so I can go laugh about it later!!!! Simply because of how ridiculous your stories are—and I hope to fucking god that they’re stories and not the truth because BLESS ALL THEIR HEARTS!!!!

Im gonna go skateboard over to the store so I can keep us in a steady supply of pasta and sauce. 

Be real, guise. And if you can’t be real, at least stay over there!!! 

At Least I Have Nothing--Saint Motel

The first laptop computer that I ever owned I bought on credit at Office Depot and, long after it was paid off, and while I was using it every day, my (now ex) husband put his fist to the screen in a fit of rage. It's probably written in a journal that I would have to dig around for a while to find, but I can't even recall now why we were arguing. At the time, I was devastated. I'm a writer and that was my primary way of not only doing my school work but also publishing my work to the internet on my blog. I could still use it if I plugged it up to an external monitor. That was how I worked on anything that was saved to the Toshiba after the fist smash happened. Of course, as amends for his terrible temper, violent and rash behavior, I almost immediately was allowed to order a cheap tiny shiny pink one for half the price and half the capabilities of my trusty old Toshiba. It's weird how the past sneaks up on you sometimes with an unpleasant memory of some shit that you'd rather just forget. Maybe I need to tell my story before my brain forgets, though. These things keep tugging at me like getting your belt loop caught on something suddenly when you're running for the door with your hands full. Too busy living life to slow down and take just a second. 

Sometimes being busy is a good distraction from the worries that would otherwise unnecessarily preoccupy one's mind. Sometimes being busy is an escape from thinking about the traumatic things that you lived through that you can't scrub from your memories. Unfortunately, being too busy can lead to being too distracted to both properly care for not only yourself but also others who may depend on you. 

Quiet days like today, when something unknown seems to be tugging at me, urging me to do something, something like come here to write, I find it impossible to concentrate on much else until this feeling inside me to communicate is sated, and so...

Now that I think about it, my ex husband took, traded, sold (or who knows what?!?!), or destroyed a lot of my favorite things over the years. From seemingly "insignificant" things like my favorite leather cd case, an old camera, my typewriter, gloves that belonged to my Aung Evelyn that I inherited. He was always apologizing and then attempting to replace my good-quality belongings with a shittier, cheaper version that was newer and shinier, even though it had usually cost half as much and was of poorer quality. Always dangling such things after a fight, as if the object of his apology were some kind of sick reward for sticking around. It's all just stuff, I know. Attachment leads to suffering and all...But some of the things were inherited. Some were things that could never be replaced. Some things were items of trivial value but the act of their destruction was traumatic. It makes me feel nauseous sometimes to think about all the things that I have endured at the hands of others just because I was too weak, meek, or polite to speak up, argue, or push back.

Just a few moments ago, while trying in vain to read a novel that I just am struggling to finish (it's due this week and will likely go back to the library unfinished by me), I started thinking about things that I could possibly do differently. I have been restless this morning thinking that I have something to do, or something to say. I suppose it is partly that I want to run around outside--literally--but it's suddenly too chilly for me to fool with all that this afternoon when I would be fighting against the cold of the relentless wind. So I was contemplating, unsatisfied with reading, not wanting to stare at my phone or play Minecraft, and I decided that I was ready to think about something a little different, try to gain a different perspective...

What keeps me from being a terrible person?

I KNOW, I KNOW!!! Some of you probably think that I AM ONE (ha!). But let's face it, I have never thrown something at someone while at an appointment in an office building with the intent to harm them, I haven't ever let toddlers in my care play with multiple potentially dangerous cleaning supplies while I just wasn't paying attention, I haven't ever taught my children/nieces/nephews to take advantage of the stupidity of others for their own monetary benefit, I haven't ever murdered anyone in cold blood (or hot or lukewarm blood either, for that matter), and I haven't ever kicked any puppies or old people.

I have done a shit-load of stuff that I am not proud of, said things that were hurtful to others that I will never forget and always regret, and I have abstained from action when I should have done something at all or simply taken action sooner. Those are some of the things that weigh the heaviest on me. The things that have and will affect my own children's mental health for the rest of their lives is what I worry about the most these days. I have had to come to terms that this constant worry stems from making what I think in my mind are major mistakes in the past. Does anyone else have this worry? Am I the only one concerned with what kind of people their children will grow up to be? I want to ensure that they will be strong and kind enough to not hurt other people when they are hurt! I can't be the only one concerned about these things. Surely.

Every single time I think about preparing my children for life beyond my own death, it takes me back to the conversation with Mom, all those years ago, that I always talk about here. I was just a teenager, we were in the darkened tv room, law & order playing in the background, and she had a book sliding from her her lap as she turned to grasp my arm and lean close, apologizing to me for bringing children into such a horrible world. It hurts so much because I'm here in my kitchen, typing away on a laptop that I saved up and bought just for this purpose, and, yet, at the same time, I am also in that darkened room with my Mother. Like so many of the other memories that I have and hold dear, I remember sitting there with her so close--I can still hear her words, feel the clutch of her hands upon my arm, the passion of her words. She loved us so much. I still love her so much! 

And I feel the same way about my own children as I watch news of the world around us. 

Our most recent work project has resulted in me perusing a bunch of our Aunt Evelyn's belongings--again--and finding a bunch of old pictures in a plastic bag. Along with tiny school pictures of me and my siblings and our cousins, there were also school pictures of her and her siblings. Seeing the pictures again, even knowing all the same information this time around as last, viewing them now hit me differently, for whatever reason. How thin my grandmother's arms were! She and her siblings were thinner in those school photographs during WWII than in any of the other photos. Maybe it is because I have matured enough to realize the same fears my own mother had expressed to me while she was approximately my current age. Maybe it is because my Grandmother is dead now too. Maybe it's because I am afraid of my children having to live in a future unknown to me. Oh! How I miss my Grandmothers. My Grandfathers. I miss my Mom. My bother. My cousins. I miss all of them!

So what keeps me from just doing whatever I want to do without any regard to what anyone else wants thinks or feels!?!? 

And the answer is: nothing. 

I am reminded of the words of Ram Dass:

"You're not beginning on the path, it's already over. You already are it, you're just busy thinking you aren't.  So just relax and stop being busy thinking you aren't and you will be. It's not like you got to do anything, you don't have to get anything. You already got it. How silly."

It makes perfect sense to me now. Perhaps not everyone is familiar with Ram Dass or will agree that any of this makes sense. And that's okay. You don't have to understand yet. This is for me. 

And how do I know that I will always be on the path? Because it's already over! I just have to keep reminding myself that I came back here for a reason. That I chose this. That I had more to learn. 

How do I know that my children will turn out as good people? Because I have faith that the things that I teach them will persist beyond my death. I pray that the mistakes that I have made, admitted to, learned from, and taught others about will persist as well. I hope that some day my children can all look back at my life and say that I may not have been the best at who to trust with my heart, but that I fought hard to show them that even big mistakes made over a long time can be part of the path that leads where you were always meant to go. I hope at the end of this life they can say that I never stopped trying to show them that they can be good people and need not live in fear of admitting to and correcting whatever mistakes that they make in life. 

I have lately been so bitter and angry toward certain people who have been instructing me on how I should be doing things in certain aspects of my life. I appreciate the concern, the efforts, and that they have a different perspective on how to go about living life. I say nothing to them at all about this bitter angst when there is ample opportunity, because, what would be the point? The longer I live, the more I realize that I cannot teach anyone anything if they aren't actually receptive to learning something. And the same goes for me. How can I learn anything from anyone if I do nothing but sit in judgment of them when we are trying to have a teaching moment, a dialogue, a debate, or a simple conversation?

In life, despite the words coming from people's mouths, you must also realize the position they are in and what they stand to gain from the words they are relating to their audience and, beyond that, what their ultimate goal is in communication with said audience. Observation of all of the verbal and nonverbal communication that you may receive, and taking a moment to form a response before you reply is pretty crucial to staying civil in many situations in personal and professional life that may be uncomfortable for whatever reason. I can lead by example and demonstrate that there is also another way to live life that those that I encounter may also not have considered before they met me, by responding in ways that are sometimes not common to them but that I have learned are appropriate, proportionate, and often expected. We are all given opportunities to learn things in life, and sometimes those things come in the form of receiving communication that is uncomfortable either in its delivery or reception. How you respond to those situations as you go through your life is very important. Despite whatever happened in the past, every future encounter with another person, obstacles to routines, significant life events, or shared experiences are opportunities to learn how things could go differently, if you make different choices both in how you respond and also how you interpret, process, and eventually accept what happens in life. We not only have choices about how we go about living our lives, but we also have choices about how we interpret how things happen in our lives. Are things happening around us, to us, despite us, because of us? What is the different interpretation of the situation depending on each of these viewpoints? How can that interpretation change our active or passive role in what is happening, or does it reveal that we play no role at all? 

Some people that you encounter simply have a job to do and a bottom line to meet. Some think of life like they are on a mission or are otherwise quite determined to reach a lofty goal. Some are looking for an opportunity. Most are just living their lives while worried about their own personal issues. It is important to understand that when interacting with other people. Good manners go a long way to smoothing over an uncomfortable situation when you experience something uncouth, unexpectedly startling, intentionally provocative, or just plain bizarre. Having good manners and being able to keep my fucking mouth shut when other people are being unnecessarily cruel or rude to me, when they're telling me a story about themselves that they should be embarrassed of, or even when I am just encountering someone who seems to be in a negative mood--stepping back from making a judgmental remark about any of the aforementioned scenarios and replying as politely possible has, (mostly) all my life, kept me from being in the position to embarrass myself beyond what I have already had the pleasure and displeasure of living through. I have always tried to take each moment that sticks with me in my mind as a lesson to be learned somehow. Why do I keep thinking about that? How can I change the way that I think about that memory so that I can interpret it and accept it differently than I have in the past? Can looking at it from another perspective help me feel better about what happened? Very often the answer is yes, I can change the way that I think about things and when I reach a moment of profundity regarding the subject of my reflection, I am often relieved of the burden of thinking about that memory in such a negative way again. The new thought persists and helps guide me to a different understanding of the memory. 

I have recently had the rather unfortunate experience of learning something the hard way again. You'd think that I would be getting used to that by now, AND YET, I'm occasionally surprised by how irritating it can be. Not nearly as irritating as trying to learn something from someone who you feel is not in the best personal position to be delivering such information. Normally, I wouldn't give two shits about the person educating me, as long as they can stay on task and actually teach me something. However, and it pains me to have to be so vague, believe me, I am absofuckinglutely at my wit's end with constantly being provided with help only to realize, once the help arrives, that I could have done better by watching youtube videos on the subject instead. A lot of the behaviors of the person that I am referring to remind me of some of the behaviors that I have had to work hard to try to overcome as a young adult, a mother, and even as far back as childhood. It's like I am getting a crash course on every bad behavior that I had to overcome to mature, all wrapped up in one human being who is supposed to be teaching me something very important. 

Even though it is really funny when I make my complaints about the situation, I find myself realizing that this really is just a whole bunch of lessons that have come full circle for me. I was given grace, empathy, and kindness at times in my life when I really needed it and the least I can do is give a little grace to someone who is clearly struggling with handling their own workload and life balance. I get it. I also know that The Lesson has multiple layers, and I have to wait until I finish them all to see the bigger picture. And it may be years before this very story comes full circle for another lesson that I have yet to learn. 

And so, rather than complaining further about my past or the current irritations of my life, I will leave you with the words of one of my favorite songs. Don't read too much into it. Remember, everything isn't about me. Most of it here is all about me, but sometimes, some of it is about YOU (a generalization not a specification!). Anyway, if you don't bother to listen to the song, I've included the words below. It's a good song and, like lessons and onions, it has layers:

"Finally

I can be true to a cause

I can be far from the money

I can be free from all jobs

And I know that sounds crazy

But everything does 

We're all gonna to die here

At least we could try

At least I have nothing 

Nothing to tie me down 

Not even someone

I've got no more family in this town

I had such high hopes for the minds of 

our generation

If we had some goals, we

could reach out and take them        

Finally I've got nothing called

home

I know the true joy of sorrow

Of which I'm sharing alone

And I probably messed up

Made a mistake

At least it was mine

At least I can say

At least I have nothing 

Nothing to tie me down

Not even someone

I've got no more family in this

town

I had such high hopes for the

minds of our generation 

If we had some goals, we

could reach out and take them

Instead we're apart, no

movement to follow

We are just stuck inside their

business model

I probably die here

I probably will

I say it again

I'll scream out from hell

At least I have nothing

Nothing to tie me down

Not even someone

I've got no more family in this

town

I had such high hopes for the

minds of our generation

If we had some goals, we

could reach out and take them

Instead we're apart, no 

movement to follow

We are just stuck inside their 

business model" -- Saint Motel, Alexander Jackson, Aaron Sharp, Greg Erwin