Showing posts with label ranting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ranting. Show all posts

Friday, March 23, 2012

Heparin Makes Blood Run Like Water

Whoever said blood is thicker than water is more full of shit than a port-o-potty at a state fair in October.  Heparin is one of several blood thinning products, by the way.

Since Olivia's dad and I separated when she was 3, I have been able to count on my hands the people who helped and stood by me.  My chosen family, my friends, far more than my blood relatives are countable.  Let's put the stinking, nasty ass laundry out.

I wish desperately for my mother to be alive and to have a father who loved me and protected me.  I wish for the family of movies and Leave It to Beaver.  It was never and will never be.  My father was rarely around, except for Saturday nights.  My mother worked her ass off to provide for us.  My husband is a musician.  My only child died.  This sure as hell is not Leave It to Beaver.  It's like Beaver dressed as Michael Myers. 

For those of you who have loving families, do you intentionally engage people who cause hurt or harm to your loved family members?  I'm going to guess 'no'.  Please answer though, because I'd like some honest, unbiased answers.  In my family, that answer is 'yes'.  People do, in fact, intentionally engage others who have harmed or hurt me emotionally.  It doesn't just happen once.  It doesn't just happen, say, 25 years ago.  It keeps happening.

I am not playing a victim.  I am doing the opposite.  While talking with one of my dearest friends today, it occurred to me that hiding these things is victim-like.  I am not ashamed.  I didn't do anything wrong!  I just exist.  I am tired of existing in my world for other people's jollies.  I don't know how to do it tonight, but I'm figuring out how to have a good life that is mine (with my husband) and not Velcroed to anyone because of 'shoulds'.  His family is very loving and protective and I am so very thankful for them.

Blood is not thicker than water.  Maybe my family has genetic Heparin running through its veins.  My therapy co-pay is so going to be worth it tomorrow.


 Damn it...Mine went up!


Thursday, December 29, 2011

The Distractions in My Head Are Mine, All MINE

Mr. Officer,
I understand you think it's unsafe for me to be driving with a cellphone in my hand ... or on bluetooth ... or texting.   I read today you now think I am not capable of eating french fries or applying lip gloss while steering an automobile that claims it can park itself. 


Mr. Officer,
What makes you think any of these are any more distracting than the argument with my sister or discussion about infertility with my husband that could be happening in said car?  Even more distracting are the thoughts in my head about the argument that's probably brewing with my sister and especially the stressful, heartbreaking conversation my husband and I had last night regarding our future as parents.

Tell me, Ponch, are you going to try to fine me for being distracted by my own thoughts?  They are a hell of a lot more distracting to me than a damn hotdog or some moisturizing color for these luscious lips.

Sincerely,

Karen H. Sanders


I am now appalled at the state of this Union.  We are broke and unemployed.  We are increasingly uncultured thanks to cuts in arts and music education.  Our citizens who need the most get the least thanks to the cuts in mental health services.  Yet, there are officials who think it necessary to keep tabs on me in my car.  I wish they'd ask instead how I've managed to drive for nearly 18 years without a ticket or at-fault accident.

I suppose I should just be glad I won't be driving in California this weekend.