Just because my 91 year old dad passed on last year, doesn't mean I cannot blog about the journey he put me through...
Just because... he dictated my life.
Just because... he was a very lonely man who alienated his family.
Just because... he was emotionally abusive.
Just because... I still cry in my pillow and hold my securities; my stuffed animals, a cow named Bessie my mom gave me and a marshmallow stingray.
Just because... to be continued.
Why he doesn't want me to cook his meals anymore and then he proceeds to berate me because I ate well and he didn't.. mean. Boy did I cry! I was doing so good too.
I told him I was tired too. Yeah I'm emotional.
Just buy a microwave for crying out loud, he says he can't afford it.
91 year old still pushes my buttons. Swear word alert, asshole.
My energies are stagnant; must be a retrograde somewhere? I am very sorry that money was wasted on that template toaster software!, they didn't respond to facebook instant messages. Wish I could get that money back!!! ohhh what is wrong with me. sighs. That's money not coming back. I found it rather odd designing with it; lack of video tutorials for one. Documentation was okay. My ego jumped then fell like humpty dumpty. Lesson learned?... stop repeating the same mistakes.
At least with the blogger guide am able to get something going. Really didn't want anything splashy for a creative writing blog to begin with. Its on the raw side now, like the episode of Spongebob where he became abrasive.
My heart is still heavy with emotional trauma from the two prior days. Reality bites back? or am I living in a dream world again, where visions of dancing with actor Andy Garcia abound? sighs
bye for now
p.s.- need to bring out that creative writing journal I bought a couple years ago from Five Below. Never used it and am thinking it may be an outlet for blogging as well. Time to put my thinking cap on.
You cannot tell me that reverse psychology doesn't exist. I tried doing the same thing my 91 year old dad does, Lmao. Oh holy cow, can we say hypocrite really LOUD!
Let me get this straight... you can close my door when you get cold and force me to turn my heat up... which is fine..
I can close my door when I am cold and turn the heat up. You open the door and tell me not to because you're cold and you need the heat...
There's no logic in this, is there? You can’t have it both ways...
Alas.. A December holiday wouldn't be the same without full blown depression.
No, seriously. How many out there like myself placed in emotional situations you try to break the cycle?
I must be patient and continue within my spirit guides? I just cannot believe what transpired in a few weeks because of control and something deeper... What's deeper than making your only disabled daughter heartbroken? There must be a certain cruelty involved ? A 90 year old sick man who doesn't like smells even if means that another person is happy and content? You continue with your selfish needs and disregard me as much as the paper products you throw out monthly. Even after everything I've done to keep peace and maintain at least some sanity in a world filled with injustice at smaller things.
I never thought in a million years that he would do this; take away my livelihood.i loved my coloring and was very good at it. Lots of co!oring books and art supplies for my hobby to keep me happy and sane....
ALL GONE.
I'm done... Temporarily. But... There's nothing for me to do anymore except cry at random times, play solitaire or sit on the floor by the heat register to ease the tight muscle tensions surrounding my 4 Harrington rods and arthritic neck. Why don't you take a bath or shower , you may feel a bit better?
With what? No hot water. Oh yeah... I don't have any deodorant, shampoo or toothpaste because they all smell. Let's see.. Last time I washed my hair.. Weeks ago in bed. I have a basin with an old water gallon jug that I use occasionally to clean myself. The shampoo slash body cleaner is hidden on a second shelf.
Oh and for colored pencils...
If you think I'm getting rid of expensive ones, go screw yourself .
I wish the best dad but I'm not ready to leave this earth
Ok. So this was written as a Halloween challenge in a graphics forum am a member of. Really had me thinking about the holiday and relaying experiences through storytelling. I've never thought of this before!... what if... what if my poetry words stumble a little, just a little...
and a horizon forms in parallel. This has happened before!- previous spiritual blog, 13 years ago.
Alas... halloween energies that surprise!
Spiritual trangressions of the third kind was the title of that blog.
How about using my trauma/past experiences to write a story???
I had to come back to this because my brain froze. After reading some of the posts, decided to start writing. Picture if you will, a 7 year old girl. Grows up with 4 older brothers, she's the last child and only girl. She's not a troublemaker, doesn't lash out and shows courtesy as much as possible.
She sleeps in a room, alone; and can't figure out if her dreams are real or a nightmare. An experience based on unknown trauma carries her- three times within her life. At age 30 and 44, the same dream/nightmare projects itself into her soul.
Now some people may call what she has experienced as an OBE or out of body experience. Hypnosis doesn't help uncover why this has happened to her nor does self help youtube sleep meditations.
Until...
her beloved best friend crossed over. She searches for her friend to at least gain some mental clarity.
However, mom, always told her that she'll be okay as you can always talk to her- out loud or even a silent prayer. ..." You must remember that not everything is black and white nor can you keep walking down the straight and narrow. " ---- MOM quote.
" What am I seeing? I see myself sliding across the wall then upwards towards the ceiling and stayed there. Floating above but underneath... voided."
What happened to her???? ... to be continued... ?
If at first you don't succeed, grab a spoon and head to the freezer. Grab any flavor of ice cream you may have and dig in.
