Kind of Going No Where

Three and a half weeks ago I came down with what I am referring to as the CRAP. The first week was is extreme pain, cough, and countinuous clear snot coming out of god knows where. The rest of it is continuous nose blowing and cough. Now just a cough. My body just feels like a germ factory.

I had no desire to do anything the first week. Now I have so much I need and want to do, just little energy. The blog took a back seat to the housework and my portfolio. My brainstorming has been next to nil. There is so much to do and so little time.

Illness is never easy to avoid when you work in healthcare and childcare. No one really cares how you feel or if it is really a safe idea to have you in charge of anything. You're a warm body and that makes you good enough. I disagree.

Now that I am in healthcare I disagree even more. Operating heavy machinery to lift people and lifting people on your own, you need to have good judgement. Sometimes you still have accidents when you are having a good day. Do you really want someone who can't think well for themselves make decisions for others?

Issues

I hope those of you that have read this blog have enjoyed it so far. I have tried to touch on different subjects each time I post. I want them to be thoughtful and informative, a little window into who I have been and who I am. I also hope that some may be food for thought. That you think, I think I learned something.

In writing these I find it increasingly hard to just write it out. The emotions in that time can come right back to me and I have to table writing for a while. It drives me crazy too. You think you are over certain things...

My previous story about my son's father and I, is a very good example. There was so much more to the story. So many more agrivations. I had to really sit back and decide how to taper it down and still be understandable.

I am hoping you will bare with me. I am hoping someone is reading this. I have so many stories to tell. Some have not even happened yet. They just need to be lived.

Poetry Time #7

 The Morning After


You left me alone on my island to die
Friend
I said, no
You thought it was a passionate moment

I was passed out
He asked to be with me
I said, yes
You left me alone

When he said I could take it
I said, no
You thought it was a passionate moment

He flipped me over
You heard me too
I begged him, no
You left me

I passed out
The pain
The fear
You thought

I woke up
He was done
I thanked god
Passed out again
You left me on my island to die alone

He disappeared
Satisfied in my humiliation
Hours later
You come in
Its time to leave
I'm with you on my island dying alone

What a piece of work
I mumble
What do you mean?
I have no answers
You thought it was a passionate moment

When I tell you
You do not believe me
You leave me

Then you do
And choose to ignore it
You wanted it to be a passionate moment

I threw up all day
Scrubbed my body
A million different way
Stared at walls
I am left on my island to die alone


written in my mid 20's

Sex, Drug, and Rock n Roll Part 2

So he wasn't very pretty. His words were ugly and meant for me. No one wanted him in their band. He painted very little now. It was very clear he wasn't Italian. Now he just stayed up all night singing a song I had hoped was for me. I'm sure it wasn't.

Yes, I stayed with him. My parents were not going to have a baby and I as a burden. They had their own problems. So came the big day.

I had been in labor for three days. I was uncomfortable and trying to find a way to make it until the next day for my scheduled C-section. My best friend at the time was spending the night so he could take us the next morning. I wasn't going to make it though.

At some point the guys went out for a smoke. While they were out, my boyfriend felt the need to unburden himself on my friend. He was having sex with other woman. My friend set that aside for two weeks.

I gave birth to beautiful little replica of us. It didn't save our relationship though. We could barely hide the animosity while either of our moms visited. And finally Andrew came clean about what he had been told.

I was devastated. Yet all the signs had been there. For a few minutes I tried to convince myself he was lying. Andrew and his wife came over and we drove around Seattle for an hour or so. I cried and we tried to figure out a way to get out of the situation. I was foolish and thought I needed to stick it out. I got home to a dark house and sat there.

Not long after this we received an eviction notice. Things were almost always tense between us. We were lucky though, our sons growth and discovery were constant. Giving us a reason to come together. He was the best thing we ever did.

We moved into a dump in one of the crappier parts of Seattle. I became the mother of two children. I went back to work early. He lost his job and no one would hire him. So he became Mr. Mom. Smoking pot(and god knows what else) all day while watching our son.

I never knew what would send him in a rage. If I didn't start eating my food and tell him how great it was immediately, it was an insult and taken from me. I really didn't like to burn my mouth. If I said the sky was blue, I didn't know 'what the fuck' I was talking about. If I didn't want to have sex when he did I was a prude. If I wasn't as into it as he was...

It came to the point where I decided if that was the way things were played, I should get some satisfaction too. He went on a tirade during sex and belittled me, I just started laughing. This had a not so pleasant effect on him, deciding to choke me. After this happened a couple of times I changed my mind.

My family came to visit and could tell the relationship was strained. My sister offered her assistance with my mom's backing. For the first time I saw a light at the end of the tunnel. The dissolving of this relationship began.

He has since been cut off but the ex was looking off in the other direction. Winner...

 In a matter of weeks I had gone home and gotten a job. Made arrangements to stay with my parents.  I came home and packed up. There was talk of  it being a separation and once I found a place we would see where we wanted to go. It never happened.

Two years later, I was listening to my headphones as I walked through the first floor of the hospital. A familiar tune was playing and I stopped, took a detour to the bathroom. "I know place where I can go.... oh into your arms, oh into your arms, into your arms, I will go." I'd heard it a million times in my sleep. He didn't even write it.

Reflections on Seattle

Still finishing up Part 2 to Sex, Drugs, and Rock n Roll so here's kind of a poem.


It was my first taste of freedom
Where I met my son's sperm donor
Where my son was born
The first place I was ever really alone
Where I took some risks
It is where I was stalked
Where I was raped 
Where I got my first apartment
It is where I drove by myself, my one and only time
Where I watched 2 men chase a girl who was screaming down the street
I learned to dumpster dive
It was where for the first time i felt like a minority
It's where I went to escape from what I was becoming
Only to make more mistakes

Holding My Breath

I called over and over again to no answer. Slammed the phone, inserted my quarter, called the operator, etc. I just needed to hear my sisters voice. She should have been home from school by now! After forty five minutes I gave up.

So I got on the bus to head home. By the time I got there she should be too. Then we could devise a plan to get to Adam. Trapped in an age lacking cell phones. I had to go in the opposite direction so I didn't leave Tammy alone. I quickly discovered why I couldn't get a hold of her.

I sat on the bus on Barger, creeping towards the intersection for at least a half hour. Unlike her I knew who the victim was. Every foot closer I tried to stop the tears. But by the time we got to the intersection I could see the investigators and my chest tightened. Many on the bus were staring at me now.

Once past Beltline the bus seem to move even slower. My tears ran faster. I thought about just getting off and running but I knew I had to think this through. Every stop seemed to be needed until mine was reached.

I flew off the steps and started to run. I am not big on running but I didn't want Tammy to sit any longer alone. I didn't want to be alone any longer. If I could just drop the bag weighing me down!

I was lucky there was a gate in the middle of the fence surrounding the housing community. I had hopped it before on several occasions when I didn't have the energy to walk all the way around to the entrance. One good push and I was over. Nothing was going to stop me from getting to the front steps now. I could see the door.

I wrestled with the keys, with my heart pounding out of my chest. Finally in, I said 'Tammy!'. And 'Tammy?'again, and 'Tammy!' again,  Then screamed it repeatedly. I curled up in a ball and started to sob and scream.

The door flew open and Tammy came to me. 'We were out looking for you."

Mom had arranged for someone to pick us up and take us to the hospital. I wiped away a few tears so I could see. We hugged each other all the way to the car. Climbed in the back. And hugged all the way to Sacred Heart.

Poetry Time #5

The Need for Speed


Satisfaction they look for
Love and drugs they need
They started off with four
Doing too much speed
Now there's even more
But some have done their deed
Something they didn't know before
The others gave their plead
In a stuffy, obnoxious court
Doesn't matter what creed
They're a circus horror
And so they start to bleed
From the twist of those swords
That closed mind disease
In their face a slamming door
No one there to believe
Down to those cold heart cores
That any of them would succeed
So came the blood and gore
And they started again with three


written when I was 16



I hope you know I love you


I forgot you
Missed the day
Three weeks later
Alone in tears
Life does go on
That is a gift and an injustice
You don't die to stop time
Time doesn't stop when taking a life
It steals and hordes in a corner
While we keep on moving
It's strangling each flame
That warmed our soul
I"m sorry sweet bother
I damaged you again
Like i did in life
I ask your forgiveness
With no memorial to salute you
No plot to place flowers
That day has become like any other
Leaves, sun, tide, keep falling, shining, and eroding
So along with those
You are left behind
It would be useless to fight
I am only human
Oh to error
Oh to you


written in college

Dont forget! Part 2 of Sex, Drugs, and Rock n Roll  will be next week. Have you read Part 1 yet?

Sex, Drugs, and Rock n Roll Part 1

He was so pretty. I thought he was Italian. He drew pretty pictures, penned pretty words, and was in a band. 20 years old, I thought I hit the jackpot.
First sign the relationship is doomed... When he says 'If you don't have sex with me right now, I'm breaking up with you.' We were going to meet my friends at the Cheesecake Factory. After some crying and begging we continued our futile relationship.
Second sign...You are paying for everything. He invited you out and he knows a guy that (used to) works in the kitchen. Most everyone else has no use for him.
Third sign...He gets jealous when he finds out the guy that raped you dropped by. I'm upset and shaking. You are asking me if we had sex? Being young, I excuse this bizarre behavior. Jealousy is kind of a turn on, right?
He is hot, fun, and we are young. And now we are pregnant! It all goes down hill from there. The more pregnant I was, the uglier he got.
He tried at times. 3 hours late because he decided to shop lift dinner. Then there were the nights he stopped at a bar and while nobody was looking he would try to down as much stuff before the bartender came back and I wouldn't hear from him for a day or two. Or the nights he was working late and he went home with one of his female coworkers.
I took to eating a half gallon of ice cream most days. It is easier to stuff those feelings of doom with a spoon. The spoon blocks some of the sharp words he stabs you with from his self loathing. But it doesn't save you from the multiple pounds you put on in hopes of toughening that skin that was once so thin.
I would like to say I learned something. That I left him the day I locked myself out of the house. I waddled my way to his job to get the house key. I was almost 9 months along. I walked into his new job and was verbally assaulted by some irate woman who owned the restaurant. In front of the lunch hour crowd, I was mortified. He had walked out a couple days before trashing the place in the process.
I left there and went to the next logical place. Hanging with his junkie best friend. I walk into the laundry mat request the key. Turn around and walk back out the door.

Our crappy apartment 5 days after having 1st child.

To be continued...

Day Trip to the Oregon Coast

Heading down highway 126

One of my favorite trips is to the Oregon Coast. I used to do a lot of different things to keep me occupied during the drive there. Recently though, I have been enjoying the view. Here's my shutter bugging through my dirty car window. 

 

Lots and lots of trees

Between Mapleton and Florence.

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It's approximately 60 miles between Eugene and Florence on the beautiful Oregon Coast. It has been my sanctuary since I was 19. Some dear friends lived there at the time that let me stay with them. It was my first vacation as an adult. My first time to myself on the 1st anniversary of my brothers death. It now is the place I find myself the most relaxed.

 Florence is basically in the middle of the Oregon Coast. Population approximately 8500. Full of unique shops and seafood restaurants for the tourists. I prefer a little BBQ, Craig's BBQ. My favorite places to shop is the Goodwill and the bead stores. There are quite a few between Florence and Newport.

Onto Heceta Head

Sceenery is always changing

Welcome to Haceta Head

I love this beach! Its February and its in the 60s and yes the water is cold but refreshing. Every time i come the beach is a little different. The fresh air cleans my lungs and my mind.

No matter how cold i love the water covering my toes.

I love this bridge. Under the bridge is the outlet of the Siuslaw River into the Ocean.

One last thing. Check out the roots of this tree. Just hanging there! Hope you enjoyed our little trip to the coast! Those not from the area please leave a comment and let me know where you are from and what you think.

 The ride home is usually dark. But the sky is quite nice when it isn't raining...

Thanx for Looking!

Poetry time #4

The Snake In My Garden


You want to be in love
Cherry Wine
Walking down by the railroad tracks

It sounds so sweet
It sounds so fine

Your eyes look into me
Wanting to reveal every part
Perhaps you could love me

It sounds so sweet

I could talk
Or take off my clothes
You conclude

It sounds so fine

You love the way I taste
And what you touch
So please dont stop

It sounds so sweet
It sounds so fine

You hand me an apple
Laughing with such delight
Asking me to take a bite

It tastes so sweet
It tastes so fine

You're so evil
You're so divine

WOMAN in the dark is all i hear
It echos in my mind
Til i scream in a wild frenzy

It feels so sweet
It feels so fine

We have nothing in common
So it wont happen again
But as I run my lips down your neck
There is no refusal
Take no prisoners

I stare at the ceiling in the middle of night
You talk in your sleep of the poisoned mind

Everything good
I've look for and missed in you
All the bad I tried to avoid
But always enjoyed

Perhaps you are evil
Yet so divine


written when I was 20

Poetry Time #3

Split


Poor, tortured little me
No one loves a girl
No one needs to see
The pearl

Inside the dark
Hard shell
Something the ocean sparked
A little piece of hell

Jumbled in her head
Do they, dont they
As I sleep in bed
Asleep by the bay

Dream of blanket love
Warmth denied to long
We would like to be a dove
Sing a sweet song



Untitled

All illusions about myself tossed aside
I am stronger now
I will survive
Graduated baby steps and take it all in stride
No matter how many steps i take back
I can acknowledge my inabilities
Yet sometimes i get lost in me,me,me
I have learned to look beyond my victim
In need of apologies
I may go from green, orange, red and gold on the leaf
But my soul still floats
After the leaf crumbles under your feet
My brain may continue
To play tricks on me
That i am stupid,m ugly, and untalented
I am stronger now
I will survive
Living has made this all possible
Not sitting in defeat
Trying
Whether I accomplish or fail
Self confidence has built
Little victories each time
I stumble
I fall
Step out of time
I am stronger now
I will survive

written in college around 2000

The Secrets That People Keep

Have you ever kept a lie so long you forgot the truth? As my mother got progressively sick she went to her family to see if she had any health issues as a child she wasn't aware of. The reply was always no. Then one day after her mother died, my dad received a call.
It was my mother's aunt. She thought he should know that mom had had polio when she was 5. They had not tried to keep it from her on purpose they had just forgotten. It was such a stigma at the time they had hid it the best they could from everyone.
At it's peak in the 1940s and 1950s polio would paralyze and kill over a half a million people a year. Few of us know how great the affect was on people in society at the time. People lived in constant fear that they would be next to someone with the disease and/or contracting that.
If there was an epidemic outbreak, public places were closed and people were cut off from contact with one another. Swimming pools were closed. The 1946 Minnesota State Fair was canceled to reduce the spread of polio. Rumors suggested polio was caused by bubble gum. Which to a certain point was true.
I am not clear how long my mother was in the hospital with polio. I do know she spent time in an iron lung. For those who are to young to know the term, it was used for administering prolonged artificial respiration by means of a mechanical pump. Which explained her claustrophobia she had endured all her life. With her dementia it was even worse. She also had multiple surgeries.

an iron lung.

All this experience at the age of 5 faded into a dream for my mother. And by the time it was a reality, 14 years into a 'mystery illness' it did her no good. In the early ages of post polio syndrome proper treatment can usually make life bearable. Not knowing what was wrong with her, aggressive treatments were done. They started radiation, chemo, and when her immune system gave out completely immune globulin therapy. All in the hope of saving her from getting worse. And at times she would do better for short periods of time

Then came the deluge of medications as more and more problems arose. At one point so many she was unable to communicate with us and barely moved. We thought it was the end. The next day my dad went to her doctor and demanded she be  taken off of everything except what was necessary. Within weeks my mother was back to herself. It didn't last forever but she at least seemed alive.

My aunts call was 14 years too late. It explained many things about my mom. It could not help her though. She had a CT scan at 46 that showed she had the brain of a 70 year old. At 56 she was gone.

My mom and her sister

info provided by encyclopedia.com

                          wikipedia.com

                          webmd.com

Poetry Time Part 2

Due to illness this week i am going to WOW you with more poetry.




I remember shady trees
with stretched out branches
reaching over the river
as we splashed

I remember leeches
between my toes
the pain different
than any other

I remember my ball
floating away
dad and rick trying to get it
how did i not go with it

I remember watermelon
it tasted good then
as it dripped on my toes

I remember bare feet in the dirt
how i hated it
the gritty feel
before it became mud

I remember we never
did anything like that
when i got older
I remember being four





Saturday night on the way home from grandpa and grandma's
We would stop at the store
While mom went in to get groceries
We sat and listened to the radio
In our old Rambler
Johnny Cash and Merle Haggard
or a Solid Gold Saturday night
Under the ceiling light, heavy breathing
Burning Ring of Fire always echos
When writing on fogged glass



both written in college in my 20s

In the Beginning There Was a Dream

The thing about dreams are you can have as many as you like but without action they are just dreams. I tried to ignore that for years. I honestly thought things would just naturally come to me. I can not wiggle my nose and nothing happens when I bow my head. I just assumed I was cute enough and had enough potential.
I'm sure all of us have had them growing up. As we got older they solidified and or changed.  What makes some so positive throughout their lives that they actually grow into that dream they create? Others never come near what they thought they wanted at one time.
I wanted to be an actress, singer, writer, and god knows what else. I liked the attention that came with performing. I was horrible at remembering my lines and got stage fright as I got older, same with singing. I wasn't a big reader so I don't know why I thought I could write.
Poetry did satisfy that dream until I quit writing about 10 years ago. I still have a review from a poetry group I was in years ago comparing my poems to Melissa Etheridge's work. But still no one has seen them. And who knows it probably was a stretch.
Some dreams drift to the ether and others just get buried. Most of my dreams have revolved around the arts. Yet I was never that good at anything I tried. As we grow up we have to face up to the reality some dreams must be passed. My most recent dreams, still artistic are hanging by a thread. I am always too tired, too busy, or feel like whats the point. I keep trying. Half ass attempts and all.
I know as we get older some dreams are handed off for more realistic adult things. But in my experience without dreams we have no hope. Without hope what reason do we have to go on? Does growing up mean giving all your dreams no matter how small? No.

One of my recreations.

Poetry Time

One Positive Thing About Me

I love to laugh
Feel it in my son
Make silly faces
Feel fingers on my toes
Fighting to escape them
Stupid jokes
Root beer out your nose
Impressions
Warm hugs
Tucked in
Soft stuffed animals
Sweet kisses on my head

My Own

It ain't that bad, found my key at the last minute
Received an award at work, it ain't that bad
It ain't that bed, only got off work an hour late
Attempted my homework, it ain't that bad
It ain't that bad, dad only lost his hearing for an hour and a half
Grandpa fell on his face again, it ain't that bad
My mom is starting Alzheimer's medication, she's only 50
It ain't that bad, I can leave the light off and cry in the shower
Its early morning no one will know, it is that bad
Found a note by my door, it ended love, your friend
It ain't so bad



both written in my 20s in college.

  

41

It was a hard year. So many have been. 8,18, 21, 35, 40, and now 41. My father had a triple bypass at 41. Then my mother came down with a mystery illness at the same age. All I felt was doom lurking around  me. Any little thing had me paranoid.

Pulmonary Embolisms are a sudden blockage of the arteries in the lungs. This is generally brought on by inactivity, surgery, or cancer(mine though is to believed to have been causes by birth control). A clot breaks off from clots in the leg(deep vein thrombosis) and travels to the lungs. This can be fatal.
.
At 35, I developed multiple blood clots in my lungs. With 6 months of coumadin, they had gone away. In that time since I had done nothing to sway this impending doom.You would think would have done something to improve my health.

Even though birth control is said to be blamed, rapid weight loss contributed too. I had lost 35 lbs., gained muscle, ate healthier, worked out and my payment for my hard work was horrible back pain, breathing issues. I also became fearful of fruits and vegetables. My salvation- rat poison.

So I had a quiet little year of keeping a suitable median and survived 41. I just did what i sometimes do best and hold my breath. Asked my husband to marry me. And we do our crazy ever after.

Info provided by mayoclinic.com

Getting to know you.

My name is Angel. I have lived on the second floor. You may have seen me before and chose to ignore. This is a timeline of me. Perhaps this will give you no hint of where we are going. I like to think i have an idea but with few absolutes in my life I tend to stay off topic.

March 71- My parents met
May 71- My mom discovers she got knocked up and parents rush to get married
Dec. 71- I appeared out of no where

Sept. 73- My sister is born
June 75- My brother is born

1975 or 1976- I was molested

1990- Graduated High School
            Brother hit by car on the way home from school and killed
1991- Lost virginity
           Dad had open heart surgery
1992- Move to Seattle
           Raped
           Mom got sick with 'mystery' illness
1993- Get knocked up by a heroine addict
            Our son is born
1994- Split with jerk and become a single mom
           Move home
1995- Said jerk knocks up someone else
           Baby is born
           Met future husband
1997- Start college
1998- Out of control personal life
           Raped
           Became best friends with my sons brothers mother

2001- Quit my job to finish college
2002- Graduated
2005- Reacquainted with my future husband
2006- Got pregnant and had my second son
            My mother died
2007- Lost our son and our minds
            Started new profession
2008- Blood clots in lungs

2012- My sister died
            My son graduated from high school
            My son joined the Marines
            Found various family members I haven't talked to in 25-30 yrs through Facebook
2014- I married my friend of almost 20 years  

I have been writing in different forms since I was a little girl. I will discuss many of the topics in my lifeline plus so much more. I will also share poetry, how to live fabulous on nothing, guest writers, and so much more. Anything there you would like me to discuss sooner than later? Stay tuned.