Monthly Archive for August, 2006

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Armor or Big, Beautiful and Proud (Part 1 of 2)

Published on August 27, 2006 in Segments and Therapy. 1 Comment

Armor or Big, Beautiful and Proud-Saturday, August 26, 2006-7:37AM EST

Part 1 of 2

 

I’ve been saying that my weight is not armor; the kind of armor that therapists say survivors may carry to protect themselves from future harm. I’m going to have to eat my words, pun intended. I wear really baggy clothes to hide my body. I wear long sleeve shirts to hide my hands & tennis shoes to be ready to run at any moment. I knew that was why I wore the baggy clothing and the tennis shoes but Thursday evening I had a light turned on for me. Blossom said she had a pair of faded jeans that she thought I could wear. Well, being faded I thought I’d take a look at them. She showed me the size and I held it up to myself and said, “no way, these wont fit. I have too much hip for these things.” She said okay but added that she knew I’d get into them soon. I replied with my typical, I only want to be a certain size and after that I’m just going to try and maintain that weight. I said that I never wanted to get to the smaller size like those jeans. As I heard myself say it I knew I was just trying to make a statement about “being satisfied” with who I am. Blossom is guilty of saying things people want to hear and I’m guilty of saying things I think people need to hear based on my personal agenda. This whole time I’ve been thinking the body image issues were all hers. Thursday I realized I’ve got some of my own going on.

Still in denial mode, I looked at my rounded hips and thought, I kinda want these. And who would even recognize me without my giant knockers? I want to be able to recognize myself in the mirror. I said that as if I do that now, recognize myself in the mirror. So I stood in the hallway really looking at myself in the mirror which was ironically round. I actually looked myself in the eye this time. I usually look past myself, do what I need to do and get away from the reflection that I see. As I looked myself in the eye I thought about how getting down “too low” would feel like I was loosing a certain familiarity.

Absolutely everything changes. I have no control over time. I either keep it or lose it. Days may go by without “me” having any real say so. I can’t control other people’s actions. In general I have the same lack of control as most adults and in general I have the same strength and protection as most adults. Those things aren’t tangible though. I can’t look at it and say, yes this is mine and I decide this or that. I do however, look at my body and know I have the control to decide what goes in it or stays out of it.

I’ve worried a lot about getting “too small” because I thought I’d lose myself. I had a hard time thinking that my body was getting smaller because I didn’t know where it was going. I thought, if I’m dropping weight then where is it going? I had a hard time thinking of it as anything other than losing part of my identity. All of this went through my head while I looked at myself in the mirror. While Blossom messed around in the restroom primping I decided to try on these jeans that I just knew where way too small for me. They went on easily. I just kind of stood in shock then walked into the hallway to let Blossom see. I was not only in shock but I was afraid. “I’m small enough to no longer be a threat to people.”

I thought a very long time ago that I never wanted to be so small that anyone could pick me up and walk away with me or hold me down easily. When I was in high school a friend (a huge male friend) was messing around and grabbed me, lifted my feet off the floor and hugged me tightly. I couldn’t move and even though I told him to put me down he squeezed harder. When I finally made it clear that I wanted him to let me go I brushed off my clothes and tried to keep myself from picking up some sharp object with which to end his life. I was so angry that one bear hug could incapacitate me like that. When I think about it today I realize that back then my physical body wasn’t big but it also wasn’t my biggest source of strength. My voice was my strength. Fortunately he was the kind of person that is half way reasonable. He could tell by my tone that this wasn’t as fun for me as it was for him. This bear hug was the same teasing, leg swinging hug that people do to kids. My feet and legs were swinging back and forth and my arms were pinned to my side. He was even making that squeaky sound that people make when squeezing kids like that. I guess I’m trying to make it clear that he really was playing. I still appreciate the fact that when he realized that I wasn’t playing he let me go. Later, many days later I could see that situation was different than others I’d been in but it still left the impression that small means easily controllable.

 

Austin

Armor or Big, Beautiful and Proud (Part 2 of 2)

Published on August 27, 2006 in Segments and Therapy. 1 Comment

Armor or Big, Beautiful and Proud-Saturday, August 26, 2006- 9:02AM EST

Part 2 of 2

 

The other day I was watching the show 24 and the lead character said something that stopped me in my tracks. A character named Kate was upset that her sister was involved in some terror plot that might start World War III. She blamed herself for whatever, I don’t know. But then Kiefer Sutherland said that people blame themselves for things so that they can make sense of it. Like I said, Blossom and I stopped and looked at each other. I grabbed a pen and wrote it down but I can’t find the paper so I had to paraphrase it as best I could. I took from his comment that as a survivor I blamed myself for a lot of things because then the abuse made sense. Well, this happened because “I’m bad.” That is easier to accept than the explanation “it’s because Mama is bad.” That leaves too many questions like, “well, why is she bad?” on and on and on. But if I say, it’s because of my evil nature then there are few if any questions. It’s much easier to accept or understand that I’m bad than it is for me to accept or understand the behaviors of others.

When I thought about my fear of being small I thought the problem wasn’t the behavior of others but me, my small stature must have been the problem. When that schoolmate picked me up I attributed that to my size not to the real situation. And now that I think about it, being short and small wasn’t that pleasant at home because the mother constantly made fun of my short stature. She use to sing that stupid song that said something like, “short people have no reason to live.” She put the cups on the highest shelf so that I had to jump to get them. She thought it was funny. I inherited my grandfather’s genes when it came to height but the rest of the family stands 5’9 and higher with my mother at 5’11 and my grandmother at 6 feet even. I didn’t reach 5’5 until after high school and man did I constantly hear about it. So I guess I thought that my size was causing a huge problem when in fact it was the behavior of others that caused conflict and confusion but I had to internalize it to make sense of it.

Right now it makes sense on a purely intellectual level. I suppose that is a place to start. I have to admit that I still fear getting small. But when I compare the jeans I have on now to what I wore last week to therapy they are laughably large, clownishly large. Clownishly, is that a word? Somehow I didn’t notice the difference between pants that are 4 sizes smaller than what I normally wear to your office. I didn’t notice that my “safe pants” or my “therapy pants” were 6 sizes larger than the pants I have on right now. How on earth did my body image get so confused that I thought those clothes fit? When I put on these jeans yesterday I could also see how HUGE my shirt was. The shirt I have on now is 3 sizes smaller than the one I wore last week to see you. So I’m sitting here in clothes that fit, clothes that do not hide ME and that is a frightening feeling.

I understand on an intellectual level that being “smaller” isn’t what got me hurt and it’s not what will make me a target. I understand it on an intellectual level but in my heart I am afraid. That fear drove me to some old behaviors but fortunately the intellectual side kicked in again and I stopped. Of course that cessation was AFTER twenty minutes when I put down 2 chimichangas, 4 meatball hot pockets, two buns the size of a sub sandwich and one egg roll. I did not toss it up though. I didn’t toss it up but you know what? I can’t say that I’ll wear the right size clothing because I’m still scared. I still need to look bigger and make people think twice before messing with me.

I worry thought that I’ll go back to old behaviors and sabotage my physical health because of the need to have some tangible evidence that I’m not so small that I can’t protect myself. Even though a person is heavy or has a lot of extra weight they are still invisible, you know that? They still get looked over and maybe even passed up for sexual crimes. I have the advantage of ignorance on my side when it comes to my chances of someone choosing me to rob or attack. Even when I was a kid people said they didn’t want to fight me because black girls fight better than white girls. Then when I got heavy no one really messed with me much because I was big AND black. So their ignorance kind of protected me. My 32 year old neighbor said she never wanted to mess with me because I looked big enough to hurt her. I was secure with that though. I’d never just go off on someone physically but I was still secure with the knowledge that she would never lose her mind and start hitting me. What will happen when I’m smaller and no longer play into that ignorance? It just scares me.

I have to reason on that thought. (I hate it when I do that, all this thinking is exhausting.) When I was in high school what helped get my point across was not my size but my voice. I do realize that there is always someone bigger than me or stronger than me (or at least make themselves look that way.) I realize that crimes happen to larger people as well and that sometimes no matter how hard you fight you end up getting hurt anyway. But it is my belief that the best way for me to take power back would be to use my voice and report a crime and not find some way to understand why that particular low life chose me. So again, it’ll be my voice that makes the difference and not my height and weight.

 

Austin

Gratitude Monday – Blessings

Published on August 27, 2006 in Gratitude Journal. 0 Comments

Gratitude Monday: Blessings-Sunday, August 27, 2006-11:00PM EST

I appreciate and recognize the blessings in:

  1. My favorite dog in the world Cappy Crunch
  2. Having a good therapist
  3. Having a strong support system
  4. Good friends, net friends and blogger buddies
  5. Having an imagination, creativity, wonder and passion
  6. Laughter
  7. Insight, hindsight and being able to learn from my mistakes and the mistakes of others.
  8. The ability to reason and really listen
  9. Being able to relax and feel
  10. Sleep

Austin’s August

Captain and the Cicadas

Published on August 24, 2006 in For the Record and Pets. 5 Comments

It looks like a plague rolled through here, like God sent his wrath on this little stretch of Indiana with a vengenence that faded to a slight irritation. The cicadas have eaten just about everything we planted, what they didnt eat Captain has helped himself to. It is funny to watch him look for my eye to divert so he can snatch what’s left of the strawberry patch or what’s left hanging on the white grape vines. He does it ever so genergly, one by one, chews quickly then moves along, waits for my eye to divert then repeats the process until I toss a ball that he instinctively follows. I have never known a dog to love berries the way he does. Barney told me how when he was a kid he picked cherries but that one went in the bucket and the other went in his mouth. He and his brothers ate most of the produce before it ever hit the market. They sat in the back of the truck eating freshly picked mangos, the green or the red. By the end of the night they had a belly full of cherries and mangos wich lead to a belly full of rumble and a very busy restroom. He laughes as he tells me this as if it was all worth it. I suppose it was because he did it often as does Captain. He doesn’t seem to mind the tummy rummbling as long as he gets the sweet taste of freshly pilfered grapes and sweet ripe strawberries.

Anticipating with slobber

I’ve never seen anyone revel in stolen goods the way this boy does. After his crime spree he rolls on his back in the grass then stops with his belly to the sun almost as an offering of thanks. When I call him to come home he comes with a tired yet happy trot and plops on the floor for a long nap. Life should always be this good.

Austin’s August

Ultimatum But Not In Those Words

Published on August 24, 2006 in Mental Health and Relationships. 2 Comments

I told her that going to therapy would be the best thing for our friendship and that it could most likely help it. I told her that her own body image is pushed off on others. She said, I know, I’ve passed that onto my girls. I said, yes, you admit that but you don’t do anything to change it. I told her that when she shows me a picture of her girls before she tells me when the pic was taken or where they were she comments on their weight and the length of their hair. Of course the tears started but again, I ignored it and kept talking. I said, you can recognize that you are harming others with your own poor self image but it does not good to recognize it if you don’t want to change it. I said, are you hearing me when I say that going to therapy could help save our friendship? She said, yes, I didn’t take it lightly. I said, I just want to make sure that you hear me when I say that I will not be reminded of my faults every time I talk to you. I used very few I messages in that conversation because I just didn’t feel like it. I wasn’t up to it.

She swears she’s going to therapy but she’s said it before. I’ve given her a time limit that I didn’t disclose to her. If she’s not in therapy by then she can forget ever needing to say she’s sorry to me again. Last night she left a message on my phone saying that she was worried about me and that she hoped I wasn’t still upset. Oh, I guess since she apologized I’m supposed to just not feel hurt anymore. The words I’m sorry do not make the hurt go away, it doesn’t even lesson the length of healing time. When you’ve heard those words before they end up making you even angrier and it takes even more times to heal. How many times did my mother tell me things would change? Countless times!!! Did they? Nope, they never, ever did. Stupid bitch, Mama!!! Anyway, so when Blossom says she’s sorry it means nothing because she’s said it so much. I want to see her in therapy and I want to see her in it within a 2 weeks. Does she know that time limit? Nope, but she knows for certain that our friendship/relationship is in danger of ending if she doesn’t get into therapy. I mean come on, who are we kidding right? We’re a frikin couple. Dang, best friends don’t do this. I never suggest trying to be best friends with your ex. It doesn’t work out like on the TV show Friends where Ross and Rachael hang out and everything is fine and they marry in the end. Blah! Yuck! It’s just TV not real life. In real life people split up for a reason and it’s not that stupid lie “we make better friends.” Who on earth believes that? Nobody so let’s stop kidding ourselves…this therapy shit is to make sure that our relationship doesn’t end bitterly…again!

Speaking of bitter, I spoke with Mic “the dick” briefly because two fellow officers died the other day while doing a bike ride to support the surviving family members of fallen officers. That must have been just horrible, to do a bike ride for fallen officers and then have two killed! His bitterness was understandable today.

Let’s see, who else was bitter? Well, not me, at least not to the degree I was yesterday. Man I was rage filled not just angry but full of rage. It came in waves too. So I’d be “just fine” or hanging on the edge and wham! I’d get hit with a wave of rage and want to just start throwing stuff and hitting stuff. Finally I crashed on the love seat because when things get like that it is best to just call it a day. I learned long ago that days like that can get really bad very quickly. Hurting myself crossed my mind more than once so I knew it was time to simply call it a day. I have heard that if a person gives it a few days they would come to the conclusion that they should continue to live. I wish I could remember the exact quote but I do believe it. So when that thought crosses my mind I remember to give it some time, to not act on impulse. I took my 1mg of clonapin and laid down. When I woke up I wanted to take more but see, I don’t need a drug problem too. I just left it alone because I didn’t want to abuse the medication. The good thing was, I stayed up and got quite a bit of my to-do list completed. I was quite proud of that.

Well, I have therapy tomorrow/today so I should hit the love seat very soon. Blaze will be here to pick me up then I’ll truck on over to the BMV to renew my license. That means my hair has to be cute for the picture. I should pose or something, turn to the side and do a blown kiss at the camera. I can’t wear my baseball cap so the pic will not look like me one single bit. My chubby freckled cheeks will be there with the mischievous gleam in my eye but without the baseball cap pulled down low you wouldn’t really be able to say, yup, that’s Austin alright.

 

Jon Benet Ramsey: Thirst For Beauty And Gore

Published on August 24, 2006 in Soapbox. 0 Comments

Jon Benet Ramsey: Thirst For Beauty And Gore – Wednesday, August 23, 2006-11:11PM

UPDATE: Entertainment Tonight has all the lastest gossip about this little girl. They ended the show by saying that they would keep everyone up to speed on the lastest developments. This show also highlighted Mcally Cullin’s birthday as well as the red carpet events coming up soon. They talked about who the guy from the show Friends took to the Emmy’s and other Hollywood gossip. How does a child’s murder fit in with the Emmy Awards? How is the death of a child who was not even part of Hollywood become entertainment? This is all very disgusting.

I’m not really a person who enjoys controversy but I’m also not one to keep silent just because I have an opposing view. I not only have an opposing view to the way the high profile murder is handled I have a loathing for the amount of thirst the public has for each and every detail. Let me make it very clear that I in no way take lightly that a life was taken violently, however, Jon Benet was not the only person killed in 1996. So why do we keep hearing about this one child again and again? The media bombards us with exactly why they report the case when articles and news reporters refer to her as the “6-year-old beauty queen” instead of the six year old child murdered in her own home. The true reason the case is so popular is that it has both gore and beauty, two things the public loves. What matters above everything is that a child was killed violently, period! That is what needs to be addressed and that killer needs to be off the streets for good.

Do I have an opinion on whether or not her parents should have put her in pageants? Nope I don’t because it has no bearing on her death, not in my opinion anyway. Did the person who killed this little girl kill her due to her pageant status? That is unlikely so my opinion on pageants is irrelevant. What does matter is the fact that a life was taken and that life has been plastered all over the media in a disgusting capitalistic display. That display overshadows justice for Jon Benet but even more so it overshadows the unsolved murdered adults and children that died that December and all unsolved murders since then.

There were 19,650 murders for the year 1996 as reported by several sites but more specifically the U.S. Department of Justice Bureau of Justice Statistics. So why are we hearing about one case repeatedly? Is there something about this specific child’s murder that stands out above the rest? Again, it’s the gore and beauty mix that keeps people drawn to the case. This dishonors her and the children who never made the spotlight. All of justice for this child has been perverted and justice for those who were murdered before and after her up to this point shares the same perversion. Do not forget that others shared Jon Benet’s fate and do not forget that it is justice that is needed, not pictures, short films and book after book to tell us the true Jon Benet story.

Do I feel badly for the Ramsey family? I sure do. I feel just as bad for them as I do for the countless names on the Murder Wall that is hosted by the The National Organization of Parents Of Murdered Children, Inc. I have a feeling that they do not have a special beauty-gore wall. I have a feeling that they see each and every victim as equal and deserving of justice. There are countless families that struggle each day due to the death of a murdered child. There are countless families that were accused of killing their child then later exonerated yet still denied peace of mind. Nor were the exonerated awarded a partially mended life. They did not have a national apology or countless books written about their child or loved one.

Death by murder is a destructive force that never seems to let up even when the family has money, no money, a big home, a small home, is Black, White, Hispanic or Korean. Lives are destroyed when a family member is murdered. For those who live each day with unsolved cases how do they feel as they watch one case captivate the world and leave their loved one behind? It is my hope other surviving families do not feel any anger towards Jon Benet because she didn’t ask to be murdered and she never asked to be put in the spotlight like this or held across nations as one of the most famous US murders.

International news for the death of one child, does that not strike you as odd? Have you ever asked yourself, how did they know about Jon Benet Ramsey in Thailand when Bangkok, Thailand is 8375 miles from Boulder, Colorado? How on earth did officials in Thailand know who Jon Benet was? This major spotlight leaves so many other unsolved murders in the dark. That is why it disgusts me to see such fan fair over the arrest of this guy that claims he killed Jon Benet. When the spot light hits one murder case, no matter who that person was, all other cases lose light and fall back. It is unjust.

“Justice will only be achieved when those who are not injured by crime feel as indignant as those who are.”

Quote Found here

Austin’s August

Cabby Blaze

Published on August 23, 2006 in For the Record. 3 Comments

Well, I was given a new regular cab driver since Cabby Clarance found a new job. I’m not so sure having a cab driver by the name of Blaze is such a good thing. It should be interesting to say the least. When he told me his name I about crapped my pants. I said nothing though because I wanted to be heard from again. He looks normal but with a name like Blaze how can you be normal? Only me!!! Only I would get a Cabby named Blaze. That just doesn’t sound as funny as Cabby Clarance. I hope we don’t get stopped by the cops one day and end up in some huge high speed chase that ends in a shoot out because he’s wanted in four states. How does this happen? Of all the cabbies out there why, oh why would I get one named Blaze? I bet he’s on parole…again. I wonder how many tattoos he has? Should I say anything about his name or should I just keep saying, Sir please don’t hurt me I have a dog to take care of.

Blaze will pick me up tomorrow for therapy. I hope he gets his crime spree completed before then because I hope to be on time to my appointment. I hope his mob buddies know he has other responsibilities and that between money laundering, illegal gambling and a few hits tossed in he is supposed to be MY cab driver. I just want a responsible mob-cabby. Is that too much to ask for? 

JofA