Compliments and Confusion

 Something happened this evening and I’ve struggled a bit whether to mention or not, but here we are.

I am one, someone with major social anxiety, and two, who absolutely hates the ambivalence and cruelty that has become so normal. 

My absolute preference is to avoid humans, but I know that isn’t healthy, or helpful, and so I have made a rule of sorts for myself that when I do go out I will find one person to say hello, something positive, something encouraging to. 

It is absolutely not easy. But I’ve done it and met some beautiful humans who end up sharing some of their story and I leave grateful I was brave. Grateful that this one day I saw and felt seen.

Today, I’m in a local store it was crazy crowded and my anxiety awful, but I reminded myself I needed to find someone. And so I did. A lovely older lady who had this shirt on that just made her complexion glow. She seemed distracted, stressed, and so I stopped and said, I love that sweater, it looks beautiful on you.

(It’s super hard to give specific compliments to strangers, so I typically stick with I love those shoes, that shirt, great job mama, whatever).

She kinda snickered and talked with the person with her about it being weird.

At first, I kinda spiraled, but then I thought how right she was. Yes, kindness, acknowledgment, communication are weird. It’s weird but doesnt mean it should be. 

And so my hope for this person is that today, and every day after, she is surrounded by people who see her, who encourage her, who don’t let her forget that in the midst of so much darkness, goodness exists.

Fathers Day

 May your words and actions as a father define and consume you today and everyday. May every failure to love and protect be amplified when you need love and protection. May your every moment be filled with the terror you instilled or ignored. May the chaos you caused drown you. 

I rest knowing my children will be better.

It’s Not Glitter

 No one warns you about how dried blood flakes and glistens like glitter that you just can’t seem to get off. 

No one tells you how fingerprints and hands slide over the surface paint desperation and fear that refuse to be ignored..

No one tells you how it all smells like metal or makes your stomach turn. 

No one tells you it will eat into the enamel on your vehicle.

No one tells you. I may never tell anyone either because it hurts my heart so much to say out loud. 

Hope and Other Things I Struggle With

This weekend my son took our 70 lb dog, Chief, kayaking. I need to break that down because I'm not sure anyone will get the magnitude otherwise. On September 24, 2023 I thought I had lost my son. I spent hours thinking he was dead and no one would tell me. Even after finding out I had not completely lost him, his future was so uncertain. Maybe he would live, maybe his hand might work, maybe his heart and mind would recover from the awfulness. The tubes and blood and procedures are so intricately and overwhelmingly etched in my brain that I struggle constantly to breathe. 

On Wednesday this week my therapist asked about him and if he was home. I said, "No, he's at work, actually, I'm not sure because he called me randomly earlier and asked about a Kayak. Knowing my son he is probably somewhere procuring one. haha!" Not an hour later I go into Walmart and hear a loud scraping noise. I look up and see my son across the store. He was in public, in a crowded place, walking with a big smile and so calmly towards me. I've watched him in pain, I've grieved heavily watching him heal, I've watched him be absolutely terrified for months, but that day, he was focused on the kayak and fishing and all the last few months of awfulness didn't matter. I'm scared all the time too, that the son I knew would never come back, but I saw him that day, and in that moment my soul smiled.

Defund the Police and Other Stupidity

Something to consider...Yes, when some crimes occur, police sometimes come and help with the immediate needs, coincidently by contacting other agencies (medics, court, social services). 

That is absolutely not enough. 

I doubt you will find many police officers who tell you that they didn’t wish more services were available to assist them. As a hotline advocate I have had that conversation with police countless times. 

When we say defund the police, we are not saying no police. We are saying we need to increase the community and social services so that the police are both not needed as much and can link victims to support when they are.

I have worked well over 20 yrs with victims of domestic violence, rape, sexual assault, human trafficking, child abuse, and homelessness. 

I can tell you that when you find out your two year old (or any child) has been raped and call the police, they may come to take a report, but, they call the Department of Social Services and Children’s Advocacy Centers to help the parent and child. Those agencies are DEEPLY UNDERFUNDED and unable to provide adequate support. 

Human trafficking, child abuse and neglect is handled, or mishandled, the same way. 

When someone struggles with addiction, arrest is momentary and a temporary solution to one tiny piece of the problem. The person struggling with addiction, and their victims, need medical care, counseling, and community support. Those agencies are DEEPLY UNDERFUNDED and unable to provide adequate support. 

Let’s sit all that aside. Let’s say the most important thing is an officer showing up and arresting someone. Please know that even if the offender is arrested, they are most often released at some point, usually immediately, by the court system. When that happens, the victim needs safe housing or a shelter, free legal support, counseling, etc... Those agencies are DEEPLY UNDERFUNDED and unable to provide adequate support. 

I speak from deeply personal experiences...

as a child who was abused, 

neglected, 

raped, 

a woman who many times laid beaten and bloody on the floor, 

a foster parent of children abused and neglected, 

an advocate for victims of domestic violence, 

sexual assault, 

and

human trafficking. 

I say that as someone who has lived and worked with all of these scenarios intimately. It is not a news report, case number, or social media post. It is my 3 am panicked wake ups, my tears while speaking to that Mama whose child has been raped, my frantically seeking services for victims from agencies who have exhausted their resources and cannot help them. 

We, they, don’t need more police. We, they, need social services and community supports to both prevent and respond.

Wanna check me on any of this....pick a scenario, any of them, and contact who you think is helping. Prepare yourself or letdown. 

M.I.A

mentallyillartbyabby

A clothing line about escaping the matrix…I like it!

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They Left Me And Other Reasons Why You Preaching to Me is Tone Deaf

I spent my whole life in church. I was abused by many in my childhood on a Friday and in church next Sunday morning. My ex husband would break my ankle on Saturday and lead praise and worship alone on Sunday because his wife "didn't feel well" or "was struggling with her mental health." I’ve read the Bible back and forth many times and can probably outdo most on quoting it.

From 1994-2011 I led youth groups, praise and worship, held small groups in my home, spoke in front of thousands about Jesus and my faith. And lots of things happened to change how I saw things. I respect anyone’s faith. I have solid Christian friends who I rest in their goodness. It is a constant reminder of who God can be, if people were not so rotten. 

I just wanted you to know that the Euphrates drying up is something I know. I just choose to not participate in a faith that throws away people. I don’t think the God that I know would do that. People were soooo damn busy worrying about “the gays”, the end of days, tithing, abortion, that they always left me. 

They left 2 yr old me being raped by a grandparent. They left 4 yr old me cleaning my moms blood off the floor. They left 8 yr old me clinging onto my siblings begging child protective services not to take my babies. They left 10 yr old me begging my stepmom to leave while I had more bruises than skin. They left 11 yr old me who was gang raped by 5 men, 3 of which attended a local Christian college. They left 15 yr old me who met 25 yr old him. They left me over and over and over until I finally decided I was leaving. 

So it’s not that I don’t know about your faith, or I can’t recite the whitewashed version of the Bible, but that I know better. I know better and you should do better.