Ladybird is gaining weight and doing better but she’s not producing anymore milk so I’m bottle feeding Halo. Somehow Ladybird broke her dew claw so she’s recovering from that. Lord have mercy on this puppy.
Fife Jr will move out tomorrow but he’s leaving his 3 month old puppy Brody here with me. He’s paying me weekly to care for him as well as paying for food for Ladybird and buying formula for Halo. Not bad.
I’ll miss the eye candy that is Fife Junior but I will not miss some of the drama he brings home. It’ll be nice when it’s just the drama of me and Senior again.
Fife Senior raised the rent but said I could stay since Junior and his sister will share a house for the next 7 months. That means for the next 7 months I’ll be here.
Continue reading ‘In General’
The last time she just showed up at my house I thought to myself, I’ve got to protect all of us. I have to change my appearance and make myself look like a guy. I thought looking like a guy would help Morton stay forward. The mother knows Morton by name she’s not going to mess with him. So we completely shaved our head bald, put on army pants and a green T-shirt and were as masculine as can be until it felt safe enough to go back to being us. The woman showed up on my door step Christmas Eve just out of the blue….completely out of the blue.
If the mother is going to try and contact me it’s going to be between the months of October and December.
Continue reading ‘Snowball Effect’
We talked about the dream and about how surviving only means I lived. I told him sometimes surviving is less gracious than dying. The people at the bottom of the sea would more than likely be given pity with words of condolence to their loved ones but words of encouragement for the one who lived. In my opinion it should have been the other way around. In that dream I was shot in the head, fell through the floor, had a pole in my head, sank to the bottom of the ocean, saw a host of dead bodies then swam back up to the surface only to be alone under a blaring hot sun with no help. Was I really better off than the people at the bottom of the ocean? But see one can’t help but feel a spark of hope when they see someone else come from the bottom of the ocean and gasp with breath. But think of how the survivor feels out there in the ocean alone. A spectator has the “luxury” of inspiration. I am far from inspired.
I told Dr. D that the word survivor only says I lived, it says nothing at all about what I lived through or how I managed to live through it. It says nothing at all about the “journey” only that I lived. I think too the word survivor is too final. It sounds like all the bad is over with and now I can get on with my life. Survivor seems like a word that’s in the past tense.
Continue reading ‘Survival Is Overrated’
There comes a time in every woman’s life when she has say, “No, I don’t think so, count me out!” She will then be grateful she didn’t shave her legs when she sits at home before a well cooked meal thinking back on the horrific plans made earlier in the week. So what happened? Well, I swear I was going to go but when you mix a canoe with no life jackets then add alcohol you can exclude me. Also, if Fife Jr. decides to say things like, “The Devil is in my back pocket and God is my b*tch” then consider this chick disinterested in your trip.
I have no idea how things fell apart so quickly but they did…. and all of that after he bought me my own tent to sleep in and my own little chair with a cup holder.
no life jackets + beer + aggression = no go
I have no idea what he was thinking or why he went what I call crazy on me. He laughed hysterically when he said that about God because my mouth fell open and my eyes were huge. Even if a person is an atheist there’s a line any reasonable person would draw.
Continue reading ‘Standing My Ground’
I was invited to go camping this weekend. It’s been so long. I can’t wait. Boy this came on time. I needed some nature and a change of scenery. For those who know my OCD issues I’m sure you’re probably going, “How will Aussie deal with no upscale restroom facilities?” Well, my restroom issues are centered on my own restroom not the restroom of others. So, there’s no real issue when I go out in public or anything like that. The issue is my own restroom and letting others use it. I don’t foresee any OCD panic attacks where I prematurely call Hasmat or scream “You ‘re triflin. You people were raised by apes, apes I say apes.” I don’t expect that at all.
So, we’ll leave Friday morning and come back late Sunday evening. There’ll be fishing and stuff like that too. I haven’t been fishing in a good 10 years or longer. They’ll have to put the worm on the hook cause I’m not touching that nasty thing. I’ll be fine with cleaning the fish but they’ll have to deal with the worms. Yuck! I haven’t roasted marshmallows in years nor have I had a roasted hot dog since I was a little kid. I can’t wait. Oh I so can’t wait. I do have to wonder how on earth I’m going to do my hair out there in the wild.
J of A
Campfire Days-Thursday, October 09, 2008-1:17PM EST
I saw the new pdoc who is actually a nurse practitioner. I sort of grilled her about her experience with psych meds. I asked not just what meds she knows but what meds she’s seen make a difference in the lives of her clients. We talked about prescription Lyrica for the fybro. Right now we’re keeping all meds as they are. During the session she asked the basics. Have you ever been abused, is there a history of addiction in your family, blah, blah, blah, etc, etc. She then asked if I’m in a relationship. I said yes but it’s brand spanking new. She asked if the person is a man or woman. When I answered she paused then said, “Um, how long have you been gay?” I laughed and said, “About as long as I’ve been black.” It was a nice icebreaker. She and I laughed about it. She said it was a stupid question but I thought it was kinda funny.
We then moved into a bit about the mother. She just shook her head like most do in total disgust. At the end she said, “Now, lets discuss your fee.” I about fell over. I know I changed 6 colours when she said that. I said, “Um, fee? I was under the impression this was pro-bono. That’s what the secretary said; this is pro-bono for right now.” She said it wasn’t and could I pay anything at all. I said, no, I don’t have anything to give you. I have three dollars and you can’t have it. I immediately thought to myself, “I could always do like people do at a restaurant. I wouldn’t dine and dash but psych and dash.” She then asked if I’d be willing to trade artwork or crafts as payment. I’m sure I didn’t show it but I was livid. This is the thing, I’ve bartered with my artwork for a lot of different things. I’ve bartered for furniture, DVD’s, work on my computer and a host of other things but I WILL NEVER trade art for therapy. Hell I’ve sold art therapy sketches before but I will not trade my art for psych services. I’d rather get a bill for that $100 session than to hand her a hundred bucks worth of prints or a few dolls. Forget that. It’s not going to happen. I thought all of that but I never said anything. I just looked at her in total disbelief.
Continue reading ‘This Is My Heart and Soul’
I think I’m just going to jump right into the memory thing with the mother. I don’t know how to start it easy so I’m going to jump right into it. This is what I remember.
She would sit on the edge of the love seat and I’d sit between her legs. Sometimes she was just combing my hair but I had to face her with her legs open. She wasn’t wearing anything at all or what she was wearing was a half slip pulled up under her arms. When I’d complain she’d tell me I couldn’t see anything because she was too fat. She said her fat legs didn’t let me see anything. Sometimes I kept my eyes closed but it didn’t prevent me from smelling her. Sometimes all she did was comb my hair but other times she wanted sexual contact. I was not allowed to do my own hair until high school. To this day I don’t get on my knees for fuckin’ anybody or anything and I certainly don’t crawl. I don’t crawl.
Continue reading ‘Kneeling Before The Mother’
I know she lied but I guess when you use the word “lie” out loud it sounds and lands much differently from when its heard inside. My mother lied. My abusers lied. In my head it lands with a soft but haunting thud. My mother lied. My abusers lied. Out loud it nearly knocks me off my feet. For the first time ever someone told me in those words, “She lied to you.” I mean I know she did but to say it out loud is to make it all her fault and take the blame off of me. Truthfully, I still blame myself for some things but what is more, I still feel bad inside and I still am willing to believe on some levels that this abuse story I tell can’t really be true. To say she lied means I am believed. To believe me is to confirm that I am a good liar and can convince good and honest people to turn against the mother. It is so confusing. In my head it’s a secret but out loud it’s a conspiracy to bring the woman that gave birth to me down in a ball of slanderous flames.
Every September for as long as I can remember we went to my grandfather’s old orphanage. It’s a historical place and a beautiful one too. I have very fond memories of it especially hanging by the duck pond in paddle boats or laying beside geese gazing at the starry sky. I have amazing memories from that place.
Continue reading ‘A Conditioned Liar’
Dr. D - What is that on her face?
Amy Smiles - It’s a mask. You wear it over your head so you can’t talk.
Dr. D - What do you call it?
Amy Smiles - A muzzle.
Dr. D - Why did she make you wear it?
Amy Smiles - Because we were dogs.
Dr. D - No, you weren’t a dog but she did treat you like one.
Amy Smiles - I’m sorry.
The cousin (Wolf) ate off the floor and not at the table because dogs don’t eat at the table.
The sister and I slept outside in the driveway in the car because dogs don’t sleep in the house.
We were just dogs to them.
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J of A
We Were Dogs-Saturday, September 20, 2008-12:39AM EST
A small petting zoo was housed in the backyard of the apartment where I lived in the second grade. The second grade was also a pivotal year as far as abuse goes. In this zoo there were caged lions, caged dogs bigger than I’ve ever seen before and other wild African animals in the big cat family. It was feeding time but I didn’t want to help feed them. The caretaker took offense at this and decided that if I didn’t want to help feed them she’d tease me by tossing fish on me so the lions would come after me. I started helping from that point. The cages up front had smaller animals, still ferocious if un-caged but smaller than the lions and whatever else was in the back. The zoo went on and on it seemed, right up the window. The less dangerous ones were on the outside the most dangerous ones were right up next to my bedroom window. Interesting is that the lions were on the outside. One would think they would be classified as the most dangerous but whatever was against the window wasn’t something I wanted to mess with but I still felt the need to let them eat so I began throwing fish as hard as I could so it would reach them. As I picked up fish they turned to a cow’s femur. Even still I threw it with all my might to get to the other animals. Once out of fish we had to cross these cages from the top to get back inside the apartment. So here we’d pretty much teased them with bits of fish then we put our bodies on top of the cages to get back inside the apartment.
Continue reading ‘Dream Lions Dogs and Drowning’
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