Shove it where the sun doesn't shine

I went to jail for protecting myself from my husband one-time; he used to beat me daily. This particular time he had given me a black eye, bloody nose, and swollen lip after he threw a knife at me that stuck in the wall instead of me.

I had left him a month before and moved to another town miles away. Found a job, rented a room over an old storefront building it was small, cheap, and I felt safe.. The room was quaint with plaster walls, a light hung from the center of ten foot high ceiling with only bare wires with no shade. The wooden floors clean and shiny but needed refinishing. A twin bed snug against the wall, with a small end table next to it, and a window with lace curtains in the center of the wall of the narrow room. I shared a bathroom down the hall with other people who rented similar rooms. It was mine, all mine.

 I was in the middle of preparing breakfast food for the restaurants line cooks. Baking old fashion buttermilk biscuits, frying bacon and sausage, coffee was brewing, the smell was deliciously hanging throughout the kitchen. Country music was playing on the radio, we were happy and laughing. I was feeling almost like my old self, full of confidence and anything was possible for the future.  Little did I know what was lurking outside for me. He found out where I worked. 

After he came in the back door of the restaurant he grabbed me. He was dragging me out the back door when I grabbed the door jamb on both side of the opening. I'm screaming for him to let go of me, my boss grab me under my arm pits but she and I couldn't break his grip. He got me outside into the car and drove off.  The police had been called but they didn't get there in time. He drove us back to the one bedroom trailer we had rented from a church pastor and his wife. 

The police showed up and took us both to jail.

He got out of jail on his own recognize that same day because he was from KY.

I am from Michigan.  Because of that the judge thought I was a flight risk. Ya think so?  I ended up spending 30 days because the judge wouldn't give me back my $100 bail money. So, I told the judge to shove it where the sun doesn't shine. Was not one of my better reactions to an authority figure. Needless to say, the judge didn't find my response humorous.
This happened in London KY. 

Poem to survivor of sexual assault

I searched for words to tell you what not to feel

I searched for words to tell you how to feel

I searched and searched then realized I could tell you a million words

But I did not experience your time and place

I did have my own, so I do know the place

But there are no words to express some experiences

In the end, results are always the same

Violated, hard to trust, anger that comes from know where

In time it will get easier the fear will subside

A day will come, and you will feel at peace again.

I am safer alone

She sits at the kitchen table listening to the water drip, drip, drip. Her memory goes back to a time in life when she remembers how vulnerable she could be. He controlled everything, she feared to make choices, trained from childhood to be obedient. Sexual abuse started when she was 3.

Now at 44, the dripping from the faucet reminds her of a time long ago when he put his hand through the window. They are fighting over his infidelity.

He knocks her down then sits with his knees on her forearms. She can't move, terror red is all she sees. The blood he is dripping on her forehead is running into her eyes.

He says, "In Viet Nam, we use to terrorize our captives this way. It can get worse".

Crying, begging, rocking her head back and forth desperate to keep the blood from running into her eyes. It's causing her to see everything through a red haze. Blood dripped, splattered, ran down the walls. He left after that never to come back.

Crying, sobbing from the aftermath of abuse. She doesn't know what to clean first.

Drenched in blood my vision blurred, I remember it well. Rinsed my eyes out than wiped my face. Didn't figure I should change my clothes.

By the time I washed the blood from walls, ceiling, furniture, and the floor my clothes drenched with his diluted blood, I took off my clothes and threw them away. Standing in the shower sobbing until the water ran clear and cold. I got out of the shower a new woman.

Until the next time, I meet the new one to bring terror in my life.

Now at 62, I stay alone. After 3 relationships that brought me to the brink of death, I'm safer alone.

#MeToo #iamwriting #amwriting

#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

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.

When your child dies, Oh how I miss her

I guess this is how I have dealt with my daughter's death on her birthday and the day she left.

 I do have sad times but mostly I can laugh at the little stupid things that Kathy and I would laugh at. I talk to her and express how she would have enjoyed the experience with me. Then we laugh together, she hears me that's all that matters. I don't celebrate her death or birthday because she wouldn't want me to glorify her death. Instead, we talk every day, just like when she was alive.
I am selfish I don't want to share my special time I have with her of a spiritual nature.

I was by myself when I gave birth to her at 15, there was no family just hospital staff. When she went to a better place for her, not me, it was only her and I. No family, no friends, just my daughter and I. Yes I am crying as I write this, just because I don't often express my pain of losing my best friend doesn't mean it hurts less, it means I am selfish about all the special times we had. RIP Kathryn Martin

Poor me day LOL

She has been trying so hard and getting nowhere.
Tired can't even begin to describe her life.
Denise and her pets surviving the winter until her paintings and prints sell. She is working very hard to get the word out about her paintings.

Sincerely love and blessings,
Matilda and Teddy

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.

Road blocks, I see away, then another road block, Just call me lucky

A year ago I was stressing over where I would live this year.  In August 2015, I found a house to rent in October, felt safe again. Worried about having a place to live, food on the table and medical insurance to cover my medical needs.

Here it is Jan. 2017 I get a check in the mail from a lawsuit against the mortgage company Chase

$55,000,000 settlement against them And I received Cha-Ching a grand total of $8.93. Well, just call me lucky. 

February 2016 I found out my medical insurance is being canceled, now I have insurance that doesn't cover my medical needs. They cut food budget down to $16 a month, so no more healthy food that is low calorie. Instead, it is high in carbs to make the dollar go further.

I am not asking for a lot just a place to live that is mine and no-one can kick me out. That I can afford to heat and keep in good condition.  Just would like to feel safe in my old age since I have not felt safe most of my life. No vacations, fancy car or jewelry.  Just a safe, warm place I can call home.

I have no fine jewelry left, had to sell two years ago to buy food January 2014.  That was the winter I got sick and could not run my truck the way it should have been to produce enough money to support the truck and drivers that were driving it. Instead, they stole fuel money from me and blew tires on the truck. Each tire cost $500. Face it, I just make lousy decisions should have kicked the drivers out of the truck then.

In May 2014, I sold my truck paid off what I could. Took three months off to grieve all my losses over the previous seven years.

Last year (2014) I gave up the fight to save my house, overpriced because of the financial crisis that everyone went through.  I fought the mortgage company a little over two years. Sometimes you just have to give up a battle to win the war.

I have a steady income, better off than others, but not enough to get where I need to be. Safe.

Now to where I am going with this story is I recently tried to do a Fund-me page and because of sexual assault and child abuse they have it on hold. I am trying to raise money to get 3 Novellas written.  Because of the topics I have anxiety attacks and have to stop writing. It is taking me a long time, and to tell the truth, it is very uncomfortable to relive the violence I went through.

I keep trying to no avail, to publish the books so I can generate more income. So I can buy me a little house to live out my days on this earth without feeling in constant fear.

Well, I haven't achieved as much as I would have liked by now, Jan 2017. I am painting which is soothing to the soul.

I do have a small house I call home now; it is not mine but I feel safe here.

My hair fell out for 6 months afterwards

Things had been very good for a month feeling the love for him again. No fearing him so my guard was coming down. Got inside the house and he went to his laptop and I was watching TV.
I looked over at him and he was very deep in concentration on whatever it was he was doing. He liked playing games but this was different. When I asked him what he was doing he searched for words. First red flag.
I walked over to him and he closed the laptop. Second red flag. My senses started to come alive, knew he was up to something, only could be no good.
I waited until he went into the bathroom to take a shower when I opened his computer and checked out his history. Sure enough, he had been talking with Valerie. The other woman, He came out of the bathroom and said he was going out for a while he needed some time alone.

I told him I knew he was going to Valerie's. Of course, he denied it.

Told him he may as well take his clothes and leave the house key. He refused and left anyway without anything.

The next day he came back I just ignored him. He went upstairs and was on the computer.
He came down a few hours later and started an argument with me. He tells me that I don't care about him and what he wants. I told him to go back to Valerie since she seems to be better for him. I just wanted him to leave for good. Then he says "No I love you, not her".
I told him you cannot have us both so you may as well go live with her.
The anger in his voice and the look on his face told me it was going to be a long night.

He pushed me down on the love seat and straddled me so I couldn't get away. How ironic he pins me to the love seat.
He is yelling at me and accusing me of cheating. Call the kettle black. Between choking me with both of his hands until I am blacking out. Then pulling my hair on both sides of my head, it felt like I was being scalped.  After this point, I don't remember what happened for the rest of the night. The mind can take only so much before it blocks out the unbearable pain that is being afflicted on one's self.
All I know is that for days afterward it was a blur, to this day I do not remember what he did to me after that point. It is more than likely why it is taking me forever to write. My subconscious refuses to let me in.
That maybe a good thing.