Hump days are in the middle of the week.

 Hump Wednesday

Click above link to my live video from YouTube.

https://www.youtube.com/@DeniseFletcherTarot

#MeToo

What it is like for me to write about anything relating to my life experiences is overwhelming.  With what is going on in the news has made it even worst for the angst, I fight off with medications.

Feeling imprisoned by my emotions. Feeling so much anger towards people's beliefs that any kind of abuse, controlling human rights, verbal abuse, sexual assault, emotional abuse is excepted in any form.

I have news for you it's not excepted. When I heard a woman yesterday say it depends on the severity of the allegations. Who makes that decision? Society, the person causing the unwanted advances? It's obvious it's not working, it must be changed.

#survivor #abused #accountability #changelaws must be more to life for victims. The narcissist attitude of men and women believing it's their human rights to do anything they want.

Survivor of assault lives with it the rest of their life.

Diagnoses and Living with Fibromyalgia

Just wanted to write some good news as to what I have been up too.
Been sick for many months so everything I have been doing is just taking care of myself. It is all you can do when you have a terminal disease.

After many tests then experimental natural medicine and Pharmacy drugs I hope to be on the road to normalcy. If you have never had a long-term illness normalcy is not a normal life. It's just the most normal I can hope for.

When I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia the doctor said: "I have good news and bad news which do you want first?"

"Give me the good news first."

"Well, Denise you have Fibromyalgia. Now you at least have a name for your illness."

"And the bad news is there is no cure so you will have it the rest of your life."

I was relieved to know it wasn't imaginary after Ten years of being told it was in my head. I learned how to live and work with it. Knowing I had to use time and energy wisely helped. The main problem was family and friends didn't understand what my body was going through. They would suggest exercise, special food diets, detox chemicals and metals out of my body. People just didn't understand I needed to sleep 14 hours a day. I couldn't go for walks anymore. I had to save the energy to bath, cook, clean house.

I was only 30  years old when I first had signs of the disease.
I continued to work and raise kids until I turned 58 years old. As the years passed the disease progressively got worse.
After getting fired for being sick I went on disability. Its taken three years but I am having some luck with a better life than it had been. Working is a privilege when you have a terminal illness. So many take it for granted, I loved to work. But my body said, "You are done, no more."

Its ok now I do all the things I didn't have time or energy for. Writing, painting, reading, and family on the days the pain isn't taking me down. Just started taking Lyrica, it is expensive but the Fibromyalgia is getting worse as the years go by. I do have a good Doctor who is willing to make my life as normal as possible if being limited is any kind of normal. I smile and try to laugh when I can it helps to accept the miserable existence.

Have a great day I will try

President & Co-founder of The New Agenda. fmr Wall Street Exec Amy Siskind links to her accounts

Amy Siskind has been keeping track of Trumps Administration

https://medium.com/@Amy_Siskind/


Must thank Amy Siskind for keeping track of Trumps organization. I call it the White House Russian connections.

Amy has done a fantastic job of documenting the going ons in the Trump Administration.

This is a must read its amazing how much you can forget from one week to the next, but Amy has kept track.

Thank you very much Amy 

Words, Paint, Voice

A writer paints a picture with words,
A painter paints a story with paint,
But, a singer paints a story and a picture with their song. by Denise Fletcher

February 2017 I was forced to go back on Drugs to live from the fear of my governments choice

My doctor put me back on medication for anxiety and depression, #Potus has reminded me of the fears and helplessness I lived through while I was being abused and being held captive in a trailer in the mountains of Kentucky.

I have been trying very hard to be optimistic with painting pictures and focusing on positive life choices. It started to creep up slowly in November into December. Then at Christmas, I didn't even have enough money to buy presents for my little grandchildren. Or gas money to go see my one grandson who in the system because of sexual abuse. Yet Trump literly waste Millions of dollars a day.

Then in January when this horrible man was sworn in as President of the United States my anxiety began to get worse.
I can only express my fear of this man called President of the United States who is destroying my country. In the meantime, I was forced to go back on pharmaceutical drugs so I can live from day to day without this horrible feeling of being destroyed by his views and his cohorts.  I would wake up in the middle of the night unable to breathe, yesterday it had gotten so bad I went to my doctors as a walk in and they had me get an x-ray of my chest and EKG to make sure I wasn't in heart failure.
Good news no heart problems, but the anxiety is real from Trump making me relive all my fears of being a captive in an abusive situation.

I know I cannot be the only American that is feeling this fear of destruction that is going on in Trumps organization. 

Get great gifts for anyone

Just click on the link below. Beautiful paintings, prints, much more for your home.
Art Prints of my originals many sizes to pick from

Making and effort to increase my income retirement sucks without enough money

Beautiful paintings from Michigan artist by clicking this link it will take you to FineArtAmerica

I am privileged to be able to share my artwork with other talented artists from Michigan.

Woke up being beaten

Woke hours ago somebody was beating me with a club and throwing very hot water on me making my skin to burn. I was trying to get away my body froze up with stiffness, couldn't get out of the way of this violent attack.
Then I woke for real. Its was just a dream but the pain was real.
Just what it's like to have fibromyalgia.

Wean me off these drugs

Been a member of the Fibromyalgia English/Afrikaans quite some time and it helped me through some rough times. This past month I had enough of medication that just did not work. Told my doctor enough was enough, wean me off these drugs. It was tough. I survived the withdrawals. Less pain now, less stiffness, but thank goodness I am not being videotaped daily.

The mood swings from tears, anger, laughter, confusion, frustration and did develop high blood pressure now. I take aspirin and medical marijuana as needed, it does work. Not daily either. Just when the pain is intolerable. Now if I could just get the emotional fixed, but the pharmaceutical drugs has so many negative effects on me I would rather be known as the crazy lady who lives with 2 dogs, artist who paints pictures, and smokes pot.

My energy level skyrocketed from sleeping 14 hours a day and 10 hours of exhaustion to sleeping 6 hours a day and getting so much done that I had never dreamed possible again in my life. I was diagnosed 1996, symptoms started at least 10 years before. Saw many psychiatrists over that 10 years, no one knew what Fibro was. Had many family and friends giving me advice on exercise and diet. Even this past year had someone tell me I just needed to move more, did not respond to her skinny self (20+ years younger than me) with a husband and two sons to help her to do all the things I do not have help with. This is why I call Fibromyalgia the stupid disease, for the stupid things people say to us with the disease. They are not educated in the disease and chose not to understand the disease.

Just to tired

Haven't posted since the end of July 2016, just not enough energy to do the things I want to do.
For those who don't know, I have #Fibromyalgia disease.
Lately, illness is just too much to deal with. I don't know if it is the medication that makes me tired, the illness or getting older. Maybe it is just all three.

Positive note finally got to see my daughters oldest child he is 18 years old now. Hadn't seen him for 10 years. Wish I could say he is doing well but he isn't.

Started this post weeks ago and I am just now getting back to finishing it. LOL
But that is what it's like with Fibromyalgia. The other day it took me 6 hours to ship a box with UPS and I dried a half a load of laundry. That was it for the day.

I have been painting pictures to sell on eBay sold one of another artist but I have faith I will sell mine too.

Been going to art class one night a week to learn other styles, it is helpful.

Well got to go take a nap so I can go to class tonight.

Happy Thanksgiving to all.

We need more awareness of child abuse

Children have the smallest voices, some have no voice at all to protect themselves. Us survivors must make agencies that are supposed to be protecting them do their jobs.  Untie the hands of those who can help. I would rather be wrong than not say anything at all. I spoke out and nothing was done to the perpetrators of my three grandchildren.  Now they have to live with memories of horrific abuse. And so do I because I did not scream and carry on, if I had they would have locked me up. But at least my grandchildren would have had a chance to a normal life. Maybe.
I  ask all of you who read this share my blog. It isn't much but maybe we can save a few children in the next hour from abuse or death.

April is Child Abuse Awareness Month this link is from legacy.9news.com/

In 2013, there were 679,000 victims of child abuse and neglect throughout the United States.

1. That would be 56,583 per month.
2. That would be 155 children abused or neglected a day.
3. That would be 6.46 children an hour Everyday in The United States of America.

American Human Organization
Here is a paragraph from The American Human Organization website.

The tragedy of child abuse- and neglect-related fatalities has been brought into our homes with increasing frequency by recent media reports. There was two-month-old Tanner Dowler, who died of physical abuse at the hands of his young parents despite efforts by his grandparents to alert and prompt authorities to intervene even before he was born. And there was 14-month-old Demitri Robledo, who was tortured and starved by his male babysitter. Equally disturbing was the story of five-year-old Zachary Bennett who was fatally beaten after being returned to his father despite the fact that his father had a criminal record of domestic violence and drug abuse. And there was six-year-old Elisa Izquierdo who died at the hands of her mother in New York. Born addicted to crack cocaine, Elisa suffered a lifetime of her mother’s abuse.

One to many speed bumps

Chapter One

She sitting on a wooden chair in the bathroom of a shabby apartment. She had lost her house, she lost her job and now she is thinking is this all there is to life. She looks up at the cracked plaster walls with water stains running down the walls from years of steaming baths that had taken place over the years. Wonders how many other lost soul have been there in her state.

The table wobbles so she places a book of matches under one leg to stabilize it, the table sits under the window with a water-stained window shade, and it has yellowed from age. The edges are torn. The bathtub claws hadn't been painted in some time, now it’s peeling away from neglect. Denise feels just like the bathtub claws, from years of neglect.   She looks at the colorful pills she had poured onto the table and started to sort them into piles by color. She thinks what a contrast from the beautiful colors of the pills to the state of her mind and the dreary room she sits in.  Is this all there is, is this the only solution.

Chapter Two

The car comes to a stop behind the house and Brad wakes her up to tell her she is home. He tells her goodbye, then his sister and he laugh. Denise gets out of the car and watches as they leave, she goes into the house. The hell hole. She is 7 months pregnant and 15 years old, still lives at home. Her mother wanted her to have an abortion but, Denise wouldn't have anything to do with that. She loved Brad and they were going to raise the baby. She had been working by taking care of 3 children and cleaning their house 50 hours a week. She had bought a baby crib, high chair and redone them to look like new. She had bought baby clothes, bottles, diapers, she was going to name her Christine Marie if a girl and Bradley Jay if it was a boy.

She didn't know that the day Brad dropped her off at home was going to be the last day she was going to see or hear from him again. He never even kissed her goodbye. The only thing she remembers from that day was the laughter coming from the car as they drove away.

In September she started homeschooling, because of her condition, this was in 1971 pregnant girls did go to public school and her family was too poor to send her away to one of those boarding schools.

By now she realizes that Brad was never going to be there for her and the baby, so she decided to give the baby up for adoption, so the baby would have a better life than she could give it. Denise did not want the baby to grow up in the hell hole she was living in.

When she was 14 years old her father made her leave home, because her mother had made her older sister leave, her sister was 18 and had graduated from high school. But Darlene would not work or go to college so their mother said she had to leave. Denise's father said, "If she has to go, so do you." Denise cried and begged her mother not to make her go. She was going to school and babysitting, she was a good girl. She was only 14. 

Chapter Three

Denise ended up at her brother’s one-bedroom trailer in a trailer park in Farmington Hills Michigan. He was married to Patty, they did not have any children. She got a job right away babysitting another couple’s child in the park. That was for the summer, then they moved to a house in Redford Township Michigan in September. Denise started school and she had chores to do around the house for her keep. Her bedroom, kitchen, living room, and bathroom. She had to have those rooms cleaned and homework done before she could go out with her friends and be home by 6 pm. she got out of school at 3:30. It was a sad time for her, she felt like a prisoner. Then one night her brother-in-law Sherman showed up at the house drunk, he tried to rape her. She screamed and her brother threw Sherman out of the house. The next day her sister-in-law and her went shopping for supplies, paint for the wooden floor and burlap to staple to the rafters, to fix up the attic space so she would feel safe. She wanted to go home so bad, but her parents wouldn't let her. This went on for a few more months until she just couldn't take any more of the abuse from her sister-in-law. She called her mother and begged her to let her come home. Finally, her father said she could come back. By now they were living in Howell Michigan and her sister Darlene was already back living there too.

Denise had met Brad two years before while they lived in Onaway Michigan, Brad was now living in Jackson Michigan, not too far from Howell. Denise's father was still being verbally abusive to her, they got into a fight one day and she ran away to Jackson to find Brad.

Denise hitchhiked down there, but on the way three guys pick her up and threaten to rape her, she fought them off until she jumped from the car, she ran to a payphone to call Brad to come get her. She was terrified of what could have happened to her by those three men.