Daily Prompt: Fearful to Fearless

I can’t say for sure what happened.

As a child that was extremely abused and neglected by my parents.  I was afraid of everything and everyone when I was young.  I was considered “shy” as I got older and thought that it was normal to be scared to the point of constantly sweating and not being able to concentrate because I was always on “high alert” for any danger.  I prayed I wouldn’t be called on by the teachers or picked on by other kids.  I didn’t have many friends as a result.  I learned to be hyper-vigilant so I could try to defend myself from all the possible dangers this world had in store.  My younger sister, who was a head taller and big-boned, was always my bodyguard when she could be.  She was two years behind me so was only in my schools when I was a Senior and she was a Freshman.    I sometimes wondered if I was switched at birth because there was no way I could have been related to the aggressive loud-mouths in my family.

I didn’t realize at the time I was probably suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder since this is a relatively new thing.  My other siblings appeared angry and aggressive and never seemed to fear things.  They were not raised with a Christian Aunt as I was and did not have the Golden Rule instilled in their very psyche.

I followed that Golden Rule to the letter until the last number of years of my life.  I blame menopause for my irritability and that I never give any mean acting person the benefit of the doubt if they dare try to play me or give me a hard time.  It’s either hormonal problems or I’ve developed schizophrenia.  I will usually lay right into them.  Since anger and irritability is a symptom of many in menopause, I feel pretty secure to know I’ve just become an “old bitty” as they used to say.  All I know is I’m brave as heck now.  I have no shyness and others seem to sense the fact that I sometimes wreak anger and don’t mess with me.  I actually have developed that “chip on the shoulder, make my day” attitude which is sad really.  As a result, I still don’t have many friends.

Civilizations Need to be Civilized

The only way humans become civilized is the same we have domesticated our pets.  We all need proper training.  Much like bad pets sorely in need of obedience training, many people are completely lacking in important manners and social skills that will enable them to survive in the world.  That may even save some of their lives!

Through many years of learning the hard way I’m sure, man has learned what is appropriate and not acceptable by their fellow planet dwellers.  During the swinging 60’s the media became the mouthpiece for selfish clowns that declared “God is dead” and “if it feels good, do it!”  The fact that these flakes were either higher than kites or just rebelling against their years of strict parenting meant nothing to most people because as long as attractive people that dress nicely and speak in well modulated voices say something, they believe it.

Parents loved hearing that little Johnny no longer needed to be disciplined because it might cramp his style or hurt his psyche.  Heaven forbid he hear the word no and be scarred for life!  Who wouldn’t want to believe the clones on TV?  Makes your life easier, you don’t have to care what your children are doing or fight with them anymore.  Who cares if they burn down the house or start killing others when they get a little older?

We all should!

We are all animals and for any animal to get along with others and survive, certain skills must be learned.  The most important of which used to be taught in the home with other siblings or when starting school and that is sharing.  Because only children are more common now, the sharing part is a little trickier than with those that have had to share mom’s love or a room with someone growing up.  The fact remains, conscientious parents do care what their children’s future will be and intelligent ones realize just how important social skills are.

Sadly, the very people that need to learn these skills are usually the last ones that do.  This makes life unpleasant to downright dangerous for everyone.  Neglected children are some of the most angry and disturbed and for the fact that they are “neglected” it means that no one is teaching them anything that will help them in their struggles to fit into an already cruel world.  It’s much easier on a child to fit into a crazy, evil world if they’ve known security and love since birth.  Those that do not feel wanted or loved will treat everyone that slights them later with severe anger because it stirs up the wounds they carry from their painful childhood.  That’s why some can handle a job with a crazy boss much better than others.  No baggage regarding crazy, so they don’t take the abuse or slights personally.

Manners are so important to getting along with others and being liked, but if someone already knows there is not love for them in the world, they have given up on trying to please or placate others.  To them it’s more of an unrealistic expectation to think that others that don’t even like them should expect a smile or kind word from them.  It’s fake to them and it is, make no mistake.

Manners are very fake, but very necessary to making others feel important and showing that you do care.  As artificial as saying please and thank you are, they make others feel as if you are acknowledging them as someone worth respecting.  Neglect is not respect.  Abuse is not fun, but neglect is like saying “you are dead to me” and that’s actually worse.

The more people are neglected, the further they disconnect from the feelings of others, genuinely.  Then when a tragedy occurs many that were raised with somewhat normal parents will ask “why?”  This is why!  These are the people that have no idea what compassion is and never even learned to how fake it.  They are beyond trying to “impress” others and have given up trying, they cannot relate to others.  Then if someone gets on their last twisted nerve, it doesn’t end well.

Mothers, love your children and teach them well while you still can!

momandSean

Who Knows What Evil Lurks in the Hearts of Men

Usually the very people that live with them.

On the evening of 12/11/2012, my family’s world was forever changed, and not for the better.  Tragedy is not a stranger to us, unfortunately, but this was one that I never dreamed would darken my family’s door. 

When I awoke 12/12/2012 I had no idea of what had transpired the night before .  With so many talking about this date having some kind of significance, I had no idea and no such belief that this date would bring so much horror and complete despair.  I did know that it was the second year anniversary of the death of one of my very best childhood friends, though we had lost touch for many years.  I was reminded of the anniversary of the death of John Lennon a few days before, brutally murdered by a sociopath.  This has taken so long to post because I am really having a hard time putting it down in writing and the story is still not over. 

Horror is the sign you see in movie sections, the ones I avoid.  I don’t like evil and don’t believe in giving it glory like that.

I went out shopping for remaining Christmas gifts for a few people that morning.  It was a great day, warmer than usual and I felt good for the first time in a while enjoying the bustle in the stores, knowing I was almost done with my errands.  I stopped at McDonald’s for a dollar menu McDouble, something I only do a few times a year, and came home to unload my car and flop down with my burger and a cup of coffee.  Soon after I finished it, my phone rang.  It was one of my sister-in-laws sounding tearful asking what happened in my family.  I did not have any messages regarding anything amiss and asked her what she meant.  She spoke very tearful and haltingly and said that she believes something horrible happened to one of my brothers, a fight or an accident and that she heard he was in the hospital.  I asked her to stop and not to tell me anymore at this time.  I was horrified and told her not to say anymore because I simply couldn’t bear it.  I needed to get my mind wrapped around the fact that our world was about to change again and not for the better.  It is especially hard for someone like me to accept this.  My sister and myself have been praying and believing for a very long time for the miracle of my family to stop their self-destructive behavior and find Jesus.  My sister-in-law told me that she hated to have to tell me this, but that her brother had found out from a mutual friend that works with one of my brothers that there was an accident or a fight or something and she was not sure of the details but that possibly one of my brothers may have even been killed.  I told her that I would call her back when I heard something, but advised her there was no answer from my mother’s home when I tried to call her earlier, where the incident supposedly took place.  I drove the 15 minutes to my mother’s home sick to my stomach with fear and bracing myself for the worst case scenario that one of my brother’s was possibly dead. 

All kinds of thoughts raced through my head.  “A fight?”  “An accident?”  Three of my brothers live with my mother since their divorces and major job losses.  I really did not want to find out what happened but just wanted to crawl into my bed and pretend that I never received the call and the world really is made out of rainbows and pink cotton candy, instead of shit and bullets.  I knew one of my brothers had a gun.  I knew that just like our missing father,  they all drank and sometimes heavily.  I knew that if no one was home and there was a problem, one of the neighbors would fill me in and unfortunately I was correct.  The minute I pulled into the drive I called the home number again to see if anyone would answer.  Only one of the cars was gone from their drive.  Still no answer and I felt sick to my stomach!  As soon as I disconnected the unanswered call, a neighbor from across the street came running over.  He told me that no one was home, that they were still at the hospital, which I knew was a good thing.

He proceeded to tell me that one of my brothers violently attacked his younger brother with a knife and a heavy frying pan that he repeated beat him over the head with.  He told me that his head was split open, and that he had been stabbed multiple times.  I almost passed out from the shock of hearing something so demonic and evil as this.  We come from a severely dysfunctional family with the usual garden variety of abuse and neglect, but nothing like this ever happened in our family before.  He told me that he was sorry to have to tell me this and that my brother was deceased when he was taken away, but someone told him he was revived once he got to the hospital.  Found out that he was taken to a hospital that was near my house due to the injuries, instead of the hospital near him.  I drove straight to the hospital and was told that they did not have a patient by that name, so I went home to wait to be contacted, enraged and crying all the way home, cursing that damned satan for all his tricks for the feeble-minded and poor in spirit.  Cursing the fact that evil even exists and that so many love to dance with the devil in the pale moonlight.  I prayed, but still prepared myself to hear the worst.  I later found out that hospitals are not allowed to advise of any patient admitted due to assaults, for their own protection.

My brothers were once married, had families and were successfully employed for years, but their love of drink ruined them.  I seldom quote scripture to them or preach, but whenever the opportunity presents itself, I take advantage.  I seldom have anything to do with my family because of the way they have all trashed their lives and live only to drink satan’s piss, as I call it.  I have learned to stay clear of people who are self-destructive and obviously hate themselves.  They will also hate and possibly hurt those trying to help them.  When I speak to them about my faith and forgiving themselves for messing up or not being perfect, I try to explain that it is OK for them to succeed just because some drunk that they were related to told them they would fail.  So far, they don’t seem to get that.  They would rather be high.  It has been their lifelong dream to stop their pain this way and thank God I don’t quite understand it.  There was a reason that Jesus told his disciples to shake the dust off their feet from towns that refused to accept them.  As much as it hurts, you can’t save everyone and some angry people like to take as many down with them as they can. 

None of my brothers were ever abusive to their children but my brother that did the attack has also attacked other people sporadically in his life including his wife, putting one in the hospital near death, a child molester, who never pressed charges.  I started thinking about this and the fact that I do avoid that brother, even though he never hurt me or acted hostile to me my entire life.  I am a gentle person and easy to get along with so I never had a problem with any of my brothers ever being mean to me.  We used to get along great as kids, except for the fact of him constantly attacking his younger brothers at the drop of a hat.  I had to pull him off them to stop him but he would stop and not try to fight me or get mad at me for stopping him from punching his little brothers.

I decided to call another younger brother that moved away years ago because he did not like to be around the dysfunctional family he came from.  I tried to break it to him gently and told him that I am still waiting for information from someone in the family.  He told me about the time that he had to be treated with stitches from a run in with that same brother many years ago.   Both of my brothers involved are veterans and I am not sure if this makes any difference to their temperament or disposition to violence.  Neither served in active combat.  I received a call later that evening from the same brother who informed me that our brother was still alive in intensive care with multiple stab wounds over his entire body and that he had minor head injuries from his head being split open by a frying pan.  I was to be told later that it was a miracle that he made it with the amount of blood he lost from all the stab wounds, including a major one in his neck.  It has just been a demonic freaking nightmare and if people don’t think the world ended December 2012, think again.  It ended for many of us.  It ended for those little children a few days later because yet another demonic possessed ahole decided to dance with the devil in the pale moonlight.  Throw a fit, act insane and imitate something he saw on a movie or television show.     

What makes me angry is the complacent, enabling attitude my mother has always had, even with our horrible father.  I don’t know if people like that are weak, scared or just don’t know what to do.  I cannot imagine being scared like that, as an adult woman.  I can’t understand why some are doormats or punching bags and make things worse for everyone involved, even the creeps that don’t practice self-control.  Only the month before, my brother that was attacked told me that he did not trust the brother that eventually tried to kill him, because of his hostility.  Instead of insisting that he get help and stop drinking, my mother sits there and lets it continue til something like this happens.  That same brother, punched out yet another brother about a year ago, and thankfully did not do major damage, but break his glasses.  I personally despise people like this.  They are compassionless and don’t care who they hurt.  They throw their adult fits and think that they are allowed the carnage they create without any real care or concern of what they do to others.  Substance abusers are creeps for this reason.   

This is exactly the reason why so many murders do take place.  People walk on eggshells around the psychos in their lives instead of banishing them.  I am a super believer in tough love because no adult is owed anything from anyone and if they wish to have a relationship with someone, they better be thrilled that someone cares about them and they are blessed enough to have someone in their life who cares about them at all.  They should continuously have the prodigal son mentality, after he returned, that is.  When he came back after trashing his life, he threw himself at the mercy of his father and said that he was only fit to live with the swine.  Only an evil fool ruins relationships and lives by abuse and disrespect and destroys their own brain cells with drugs and alcohol.  There is no excuse to hate yourself and ever believe anything negative someone told you as a child.  At my age, with my life experience, I am sick of people like this.  Boo hoo, daddy didn’t wuv you a million years ago.  Get over it and develop a personal relationship with Jesus the Christ before it is too late!

Motherly Love or Lack Thereof

The other day I was thinking about how so many children are not being raised properly anymore.  Some are unrealistically spoiled and coddled.  Some have manic mothers forcing them to be busy all the time, joining all kinds of activities trying to achieve what they feel they missed in life through their children.  Some don’t have any motherly influence, even though they do live with them, and look to the TV for a familiar face.  The mothers are gone most of the time working sometimes through no fault of their own.  Others want to have a higher standard of living.  They want to be the first one there and last one to leave because they care and because they know if they don’t they may be passed over for a promotion or that unpleasant boss will find yet another reason to give a negative recordation in their review.

Raising a child is one of the most important responsibilities that any woman will ever have.  Way more important then any job, even that of the president of any country.  Women are responsible for not only bringing lives into the world, but how these little people are molded and formed as human beings.  How they are prepared to fit into society and thrive, not just survive.  The worst thing you can do to a child is abuse or neglect them and then expect them to be a success in their life.  Women do this for a number of reasons.  They are alone, struggling and angry and the child is the closest one to them.  These are the children with no fathers or family support or even ones that once had a father who later walks out because he was without substance. The mom is immature and again angry at her life choices, angry that she cannot provide for this very loud and needy little person who cannot defend itself.  There are mothers that are mentally ill or substance abusers and therefore are not able to make good or safe choices for any child.    Then I think about the aborted ones and wonder why.

I started wondering what children think about “pro-choice.”  We adults talk about pro-life and pro-choice, which translated to the truth is pro-life and pro-death.  These are the choices so don’t sugar coat reality and don’t lie about the truth.  That is another blog, but I wondered what the children think.  Children see and hear a lot more than they let on and I was wondering what their take was.  To me this a form of age discrimination and I think that baby had poor representation during Roe v Wade but exactly what does pro-choice look like to children?  What does it say to children about what some mothers think of them?  They need to be aware that sometimes there is no choice in the matter between saving the baby or the mother.  Some mothers would want the baby saved before themselves and some women would save themselves and need to.  Children should have things explained to them fully if they ask.  No woman should ever be forced to carry and nurture a baby if someone attacked them and no child should ever have to carry another child in their womb because someone molested them.  That being said, I am not in favor of abortion as birth control.

Women have the power and need to know this.  They need to stay out of harms way as much as possible and not trust the untrustworthy, stay sober and need to respect themselves as well as any future children by giving them a good chance in life.  Making sure they use good birth control, even if it’s saying no, unless that man marries them and they know they have a decent, trustworthy father for their children.  Women need to know who they are first, and know that they are not who some abusive and neglectful parent told them they were or weren’t.  They are a child of God and deserve a good life with a man who will love them forever, unconditionally.  Not waste any time with some horny for the moment, can’t keep a job or stay straight boy who is only around for one thing.  I still remember the sickening insincere smiling faces of the charmers hanging around hoping for a freebie from me or any girl.  Lust is not love, it is the farthest thing from it but it clouds the senses to further the species.  Young men who treat women like this are beyond disrespectful but we are animals.  We are supposed to be civilized and know the difference between lust and love and be able to reason out our future plans, not just act on every impulse we have.  God help us as a people if we all did that.  All children deserve to be wanted whether they were planned for or not.  It’s called doing the right thing, not doing things because they are easy or fun for us like all the “living your bliss” folks would have you believe.  Every act of kindness is usually an act of sacrifice from someone with love in their hearts.  Mothers, love your children.

Back to School!

I remember so many things about starting a new school year. It meant I was finally going to get new shoes to replace the ones I long outgrew with the holes and sometimes cardboard placed in the soles. I would get a few pieces of clothing as needed and since I was the oldest, no hand-me-downs, even though my little sister was physically larger than myself.  Some of the clothing was hand-made by my mother or grandmother and did look homemade.  Sometimes my grandma had enough savings to take us to Federal’s Department store for a dress or two, my dad had more important things to spend his money on when he was working.  I can’t remember where we purchased our shoes.  I didn’t really care about the actual school supplies, it made me nauseated to look at them!

It meant I had to brace myself for another year of bullies and mini-aholes.  The “popular” kids with all the right clothes and all the right words.  The teachers that were supposed to be teaching me, but never saw me, or pretended not to.  I was the plain little mouse that looked out-of-place in the homemade clothes and one long braid down past my butt.  It was worse than being Amish, I was poor.  When I was very young, we were only allowed one bath a week, whether we needed it or not.  When we got to live with grandma, we were cleaner.  So dirty, poor, oddly dressed, you get the picture.

I could never concentrate on the menial subjects my teachers were always blabbing about.  You see, I found it much more compelling to wonder if there was going to be any dinner tonight.  If my ghost of a father would stumble home after we went to bed hungry and decide that we needed to be punished for being born.  My teacher would try to pry my brain away from my true life of poverty, abuse and neglect, to a world where 2 + 2 actually equalled 4.  Did I care at the time?  Hell, no!  After a good beating for no reason I would worry for days about what evils awaited me that evening.  I knew that I could be as good as gold and still not be safe.  I heard of spankings and punishments and knew, the older I got, that  bad kids were punished, not good ones.  That’s why it took me so long to believe.  To even be able to comprehend things such as a Holy Father, because mine was evil.  Forgiveness, because I had never known mercy and to give, because I had nothing to give anyone, not even myself.

I think of all the children starting their new school year without much of a chance, even with “No Child Left Behind.”  That sounds really purty and nice, but it’s bull.  It’s not realistic.  The only way you will stop children from being left behind is to educate parents properly to love and nurture and actually being able to change the human heart.  I don’t know of any way to change a person full of hate that wants to hurt or even kill their child, to an angel of mercy unless a miracle happens.  Only God can change a heart and it starts by knowing the teachings of Christ.  It starts for the parent when they stop beating themselves up for not being loved and the cognizance that they never deserved to be abused or neglected and that it didn’t feel good so why on earth would you knowingly put your own child through it?  The day you can look at yourself with the mercy an abusive parent never had, is the day you can start to change and give your own children a chance in a world that is demanding and cruel.  The day you can start to truly love yourself, you will stop trying to turn your own children against you.  Abuse and neglect is an ugly cycle that needs to be stopped and it can only be stopped by sober love.