Ain’t Kids No More

I could listen to this song all day, all night and then some.  Lord I love these girls; their harmonies are like a symphony to the ears, and their songs are so relatable, at least for me.  I’d love to see them in person, but the chances of that happening are between slim and nada.  I have been begging my husband to PLEASE take me to see Mumford and Sons-one of my very favorite bands.  The old excuse was he didn’t want to camp at a festival for three days, which I partially agreed with.  Apparently, they have arrived, but the new excuse is financial practicality.

The feelings of melancholy have had their way with my psyche.  Probably not the best time to cut my Zoloft dosage in half to save a few bucks.  Why, why do I do it and what was I thinking?  I saw a video the other day, a man called Nubreed was preaching about demonic spirits.  I usually love his stuff, he is a righteous dude, but the subject of depression/anxiety/mental health issues being demonic possession is a pretty, pretty, pretty loathsome one for me, for the obvious reasons.  These videos are about as joyful to watch as the ones about pagan holidays, and why we must ban Christmas, Easter and every other beloved tradition known to humanity.

I mean, haven’t these dark forces taken enough from us already?  Good grief!  I’ll be the first one to tell you that, as far as I know, you will not go to hell for going to Christmas Eve mass.  Pretty sure, just don’t quote me on that.  I am not a pastor and I have no intention of having people’s souls in my hands.  Just making an observation.

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Don’t even get me started.

I can tell you, I am 99.9% sure that I do not have a demon within.  Rid myself of them years ago, and I do my best to put on the full armor of God.  Am I a sinner?  Yes.  Does Jesus love me anyway?

Yes, Yes, Yes!!!

So, we had a lovely fall day together-me, my husband and the pooch.  I repotted a gimongous succulent, and we considered picking our pumpkins from our patch, but I wanted to watch them grow for a few more days.  I know, and yes, I am as ridiculous as I sound.

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My precious niece, Esme Elkins

And yes, she does take after her Aunt Michele, God bless her.

So, if you are new to my blog, I must preface this story by telling you that I have lived across the street from the monster in law for the past 30 years.  The first words she ever spoke to me were to say that Dwain was still in love with his ex wife.  Thins went downhill after that.  I don’t want to overuse the words, but if ever there was a narcissist?  It would be Miriam Hoffman.  I’m just beginning to believe that she may not, after all, be the anti-Christ-but God knows she’s something.  Something else, as in, eleventy hundred on a scale of 10.

For years and years I thought it was me.  Au contraire mon amies!  You see, I didn’t know what a narc was three years ago; and it was quite the nausea inducing surprise to find out that I was surrounded by them.  I own my crap when it comes to my codependency-a child of an alcoholic, and emotionally abused for a time by my mother.  Mom wasn’t a narc, not even close.  I now know that her empathy and love for us would have made that misnomer impossible.

My monster has ignored, belittled, aggravated and gossiped about me since the day I married her son.  How do I know?  My friends would tell me, my husband would tell me for crying out loud.  As the years went on, she knowingly and with malice put me through freaking hell to the point I thought I’d commit Hare Kari.

And then?  It happened.

I always knew that there would come a day when she slipped her mask, reaped what she had sown.  I just didn’t know how forcefully things would proceed-I had no way of knowing that God would take a church service to put it to her good, but that’s exactly what he did.

I must have been really stoned when I had the idea that, yes, why don’t we join Dwain’s parents at their church.  Wouldn’t that be a nice surprise, a loving gesture?  Unfortunately, we liked what we saw and began attending their church regularly.  One day I decided to wear my brand new, vintage Kentucky Derby hat-polka dots and all.  Dwain had just bought it for me, and I was tickled to find a dress that matched fashionably.

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I don’t wear hats to church to show off, nor do I want the attention of others.  While I can’t say that has been true my entire life-you know.  I wear them to honor my mother, who looked like Audrey Hepburn, even on a bad day.  As we entered the church, Dwain’s parents were greeting.  I told his mother of the gift I was wearing, don’t ask me why.  God forbid I have an enthusiastic moment, for crying out loud.

It wasn’t until a few moments later, when I mentioned my animosity towards Bud’s girlfriend, that she snapped.

That’s not something you say in church!  That’s not something you say in CHURCH!!!

Coming from a woman who openly mocked an autistic child during last year’s children’s choir Christmas pageant.  A woman who said,

I know where I’m going.

when approached by an out of her mind with grief daughter in law.

Nough said.  The next day I happened to be down at her coven.  She gets this snarky look on her face, but still, I don’t see it coming.

You looked nice yesterday.  I could have done without the hat.

Well, that was the icing on the cupcake.  I have never been spoken to by such a viper, and I’ve had some vipers, let me tell you, in my life.

And so it was, when Dwain informed his mother that I would not be attending tomorrow’s “birthday celebration.”

“What did she say,?” I wondered out loud.

She’ll just have to change, honey.  She has to change.

And my heart broke just a little bit, when I saw the sadness in his face.

I thought there would be joy on the day of reckoning.  No joy, it comes at the cost of my beloved~

 

 

Uncontainable

I had a fabulous day today, one I had anticipated with dread.  Errand running takes me out of my comfort zone-there are days when a simple phone call takes too much energy. If you suffer from depression or CPTSD, the idea of doing anything that involves people can rob you of your joy; especially in today’s world.

God has a way of rewarding us for entrusting our days to Him.  Today, oh today I was blessed by a hike by the living waters, a beautiful day and the perfect Jonigold apples.  None of this would have been possible had I isolated.

Some days, all it takes is a really good laugh to get me going in the right direction.  Today was one of those days:  Jesse in the back of the windowless jeep, we pass a farm.  I am paying no attention to the scenery-believe me, I can only do one thing at a time, and I don’t combine driving with, well, anything.  With no warning whatsoever, came the siren call that can be heard when living out in the country-

Mooooo!!!  Moooo!!!  Mooo!!!

Good Lord it sounded as if the entire herd were in the vehicle with us.  Jesse jumped, I screamed.  Two seconds later I my sides were splitting, and the world was turned right side up once again.  I guess you had to be there, sigh.

After doing my chores, I took a hot shower and dressed.  The awkward feeling of melancholy was taking hold once again.  Have you ever been lonely, but known in your very gut that other people were not the answer?  Well, I knew, and I searched within to see where the gaping wound was festering.

Most of the people I have deeply loved are gone, passed away.  The very few I do allow into my life are treasured, don’t get me wrong.  It’s just that I have lost, for the most part, the people that loved me for who I was.  The soul ties are missing from my life, and as with any other burden, I turned to Jesus for comfort.

People in these parts either love me or loathe me.  The fact is?  If you are your own person, and especially if you have picked up your cross and given your heart, soul and mind to Christ?  You will be, and no specific order here-shunned, attacked, gossiped about and yes, loathed.  It’s up to you to decide how to handle this.  My approach is to try and fellowship with as many of my brothers and sisters as my PTSD will allow.  I have tremendous trust issues, and sadly, most of the monsters I have had the displeasure of knowing I met in church.  Fact.

After a tear or two, I went downstairs and dove into the Word-it did not disappoint.  I am coming to the beginning of Revelations, a book I have never been able to complete.  Reading about the false prophets John warns us about, the end times gurus, New Agers and Buddhists.  Sorry, not stepping on toes.  I believe the only way to God is through Jesus Christ, who was crucified on a cross on Calvary, and he alone is the way, the truth, and the life.  Umm, it says so in the Holy Bible.

I can tell you that I was really upset last week when BOOM, out of nowhere, my 3,000 followers on my twitter account was down to zero.  I had worked on some of these friendships for years, and to be frank I was enjoying a following of sorts.  John F. Kennedy, Jr. was a follower, and man, I had to be vetted my brother!  Dare I say it?

I was proud of my Twitter page.

Oh saints preserve us, how could that be?  I never wanted a big following, wasn’t in it for the numbers-it was my good reputation in the Truther community that meant the world to me.

Okay.  Two sins right there.  We are to show no pride in ourselves, but give the glory and honor to God.  At what precise point did my reputation as a journalist come before my love for Jesus? (No false Gods) I mean, I was addicted.  I do miss the friendships, but God knew what he was doing!  He knew I was done with that phase in my life, and that nothing good could really come of an addiction, especially in my case.  I have freed up hours of time to read the Word, to be with Him.

Plus, my newly conquered, or so I thought, codependency resurfaced via the little blue bell that told you people liked you!  They heard you!  They even, some of them, loved you!  Alas, social media is not the real world, it is a subversive fantasy island and why preach to the choir?  It’s not like I was getting my point across to the other side because your feed is full of who you follow.  It was toxicity itself.

Have you slowed down enough to see and hear what the Holy Spirit is whispering to your heart?  Are you giving yourself the TLC your beautiful body and soul require?  Caught up in the secular world and can’t get out?

At least for me, the answers came in the quiet.

And for that?  Oh for that it is well with my soul.

 

 

I Would Have Followed You

I don’t really like to talk about this subject so much, but the Lord put it on my heart to do so.  At some point I gave this all to God, and I have no intention of taking it back.

For some time now, I have been utterly alone.   I have my Jesus, my husband and my dog-so I suppose you could say it was my decision, or ours, anyway.  In search of an authentic life, no matter the price-I have distanced myself from almost everyone I had truly loved, aside from my good friend Jason.  Anyone who ever used can tell you that that codependent  relationships, especially when the child of an addict is involved.  We don’t just want people to love us, we need them to-and this is where I came to a crossroads in my relationship with Abba:  I had to learn to trust Him and Him only.  

The past two years had taken an emotional toll on me, I admit it.  I finally stuck up for myself with a family member-the results being that we have not connected in two years.  She was the one I told everything to, loved since she was a brat who waked around the house with a nightgown on her head-and screamed at warp volume each and every time my brother and I entered a room.  For years I was in torment over the constant back and forth, months of the silent treatment, the gaslighting and triangulation.

I was in denial, until I phoned her after being stalked in an incident at Middlecreek Wildlife Sanctuary.  It happened in broad daylight, and I was shaken to my core.  I called her and asked her to return my call.

She never called back.  It wasn’t discussed until a year later, the results were the same-she dropped the subject.  Mere months later I would have the most harrowing supernatural experience of my lifetime.  I reached out, told her not to worry if she saw anything on Facebook.  Told her and the fam that I was, indeed, okay.

Not.  Word.  One.

I am over my anger, I am over my heartache, I have forgiven.

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There is no appealing to her sensibilities.  She does not think she has done anything wrong.  We are at an impasse.  Every video and article I read tells me that no contact is the only way to go, but is it?  Perhaps, but what if we went at it like this:

The person whom you feel has abused you has been abused themselves.  More than anything in the world, the offenders want and need to be loved and are terrified of you not loving them.  Realize that they have done the best they can, and before anyone makes a move?  A few ground rules:

Assert yourself.  Ensure the other player understands that you will not be bullied, emotionally manipulated or shat upon under any circumstances.

It’s not about you-it’s about their dysfunction.  You are only responsible for your dysfunctionality.

Make an agreement the past will not be regurgitated like last week’s meatloaf.

Pray for them.  Sincere prayer can and does work miracles.  I am living proof of that.

I believe, as my husband says, that it’s six of one, a half dozen of the other.

But before any attempt at reconciliation, we both understand that in our own ways we love each other fiercely, and would be there in a heartbeat if needed.

In a perfect world~

 

The Choice to Know is Yours

We attended church this morning, and as usual?  The pastor threw me off of my game by the title of his sermon A Heart Full of Hate.  Before I wax poetic, I want you to know that I am including myself in this equation.  This isn’t a lecture or even a directive, but what the Holy Spirit is conveying to me at this space in time.

As a citizen journalist and Twitter addict, I can tell you that there have been many occasions where I have felt pure disgust and, dare I say it?  Contempt for those who are not yet awakened, not yet fully informed.  Like I was born with the knowledge myself.  No, there have been beacons of hope leading the search for the truth, Bill Smith, Bill Cooper, John F. Kennedy-I just fell into it at the exact moment that God would have me fall.

This isn’t political.  Nope.  Let’s just do away with the left and right paradigm this very minute.  Not in my blog, at least, not any longer.  This is not to say I don’t enjoy the occasional meme or political parody-no, I’m not giving that up.  Heck, I’m not a hypocrite.

I am just a child of God who sins, asks for forgiveness, and tries to repent to the best of my ability.  I fail, I fall, but He picks me right back up-time after time.  That being said, I have sought the truth and nothing but for the past three years.

The fact is that if the full news came out now, 99% of the population would be in hospital.  That is a fact.  I remember the days when I was first coming out of the fog-the things I learned or set my eyes upon could break a person, for sure.  But if we put things in perspective, and seek the voice of God in all we do?  We can handle this awakening, one day at a time.

The powers that be (I refuse to call them elite, because they are nothing but pure satanic trash) want us divided.  All of the political rhetoric in the world can not hide the fact that this had nothing, zero, nada to do with Democrats and Republicans-and everything to do with satan’s time upon this earth coming to an end:  a messy end at that.

Do you have any idea how many Republicans have left office under suspicious and disconcerting circumstances?  Do you know that you can go to usa.gov and get most of this information yourselves?  I understand that you are being fed a huge crock of bullshit on a daily basis by a media that is given its talking points at 4 a.m. by the Illuminati goons who decide what kind of Psy-op they are dishing out on any particular day.

Let’s talk about the puppet masters creating full blown hysteria in children over the issue of global warming.

Look, I would never lie to you.  GLOBAL WARMING DOES NOT EXIST.  I find it infuriating that they are robbing young boys and girls of not only their childhoods, but the hope of a future, for nothing but evil.  You want to talk about the New Green Deal?  Don’t say one effing word unless you have read it and digested the implications.

Have you any clue of the Noahide laws?

Do you know that 9/11 was perpetrated by an unholy union between Islam and this nation’s leaders?  Do you also know that this hideous day was used for satanic sacrifice on a massive scale?  Was GW on Airforce one when the first (plane) hit the twin towers?  Or was he reading to children in an outlying suburb?

Plane.  Metal.  Hit.  Kite.

Those are the very words he had an entire classroom of children repeating-over and over again.  Hmm.  Sounds like a spell, wouldn’t you say?

I spent the last hour looking for this video, which I will eventually find.

The point is that we must lay our burdens at His feet and lay our differences at the altar.  Together we are so much stronger, and love for one another is how we are known to the secular world.

All of this information is public, albeit not easy to find.

That too will change.

Tick.  Tock.  Tick.  Tock.  Tick.   Tock.

 

 

Les Deplorables

Sitting here on Slaughter Beach-named after the migratory Horseshoe crabs washed up on the shore in early June.  This is there breeding ground, and I have been told that you can’t kill them, it’s illegal.

And, as I write this?  I am reminded that it is still against the law to kill Deplorables; at least I believe it is.

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I woke early, eager to watch the sunrise over the bay.  Over the last few days I have had predictable, yet disturbing results when mentioning my beloved POTUS.  As a matter of fact, I would have kept my mouth shut, I mean, I’m on a hiatus-absolutely no need or want for drama.  That didn’t occur to me when the couple staying next door ran into us in the driveway.  I couldn’t help but notice he was military, as his army gear spelled it out.  Here was my chance to talk to another Patriot, and I wasn’t going to miss it.

Thank you for your service soldier!  So, what are your thoughts on our amazing President?

“Sorry ma’am, I can’t comment-good or bad-about the president when in uniform.”

I could feel the underlying tension-you could cut it with a knife.

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I was confused and saddened.

Then, a truly enchanting conversation with the neighbor down the beach.  Effervescent and loving, we bonded immediately.  She was a nurse in our home town, and I brought up my blog.  Not politics, my blog.

I hope to purchase a small cottage on the bay, and I believe the president is working on this country’s affluence as we speak.  Things are going to change for the better, don’t lose hope!, I chirped.

With that being said, the woman turned abruptly away from me.

“Have a nice stay,” she mumbled as she ran, not walked, for her porch.

Hmmm.  Maybe I don’t want a house on the beach in Delaware.

Honey, you’re on vacation, give it a rest.

Now I’m supposed to avoid conversation with other humans?  I think not.

Will we ever live in unity Abba?  Will this nation come together and heal, as it did in the days and months after 9/11?

As I headed for the beach this morning, I ran into a lovely man named Kai.  From Sweden originally, but now living in upstate New York-we talked for the better part of an hour.  We really hit it off, so I didn’t think I was out of line when I showed him the video of Michael O’bummer on the Ellen DeGeneres show.

“Now that is what you call anatomically correct.  No doubt, that’s a man.  Holy shit!!!”

He warned me his wife, Lucille, was headed our way.  He told me to avoid politics at all costs:  My wife will eat you for breakfast.  Do yourself a favor.

And so it was, after discussing the removal of our history, illegal immigration and Trump’s tweets-she said this:

“You know who I really, really liked?  John McCain.  Now THERE was a man with balls.”

Before I stroked out, God reminded me that most people continue to watch the MSM narrative.  It won’t be long before the lamestream is out of our faces for good.  But in the meantime?  I will love humanity whole heartedly, despite our differences.  I don’t want to argue, I want to encourage, uplift.  I had to admit it, I loved this woman.

Later, Lucille said this to my husband-

“I simply adore your wife.  Even if she is a hippy who voted for Trump.”

Carpe Diem folks.  Get out there and love someone today!  Find the common denominator, and love the crap out of anyone who shares the ground you stand on.

For only when we come together will we change the world, one day at a time.

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I Would Have Followed You

I don’t really like to talk about this subject so much, but the Lord put it on my heart to do so.  At some point I gave this all to God, and I have no intention of taking it back.

For some time now, I have been utterly alone.   I have my Jesus, my husband and my dog-so I suppose you could say it was my decision, or ours, anyway.  In search of an authentic life, no matter the price-I have distanced myself from almost everyone I had truly loved, aside from my good friend Jason.  Anyone who ever used can tell you that that codependent  relationships, especially when the child of an addict is involved.  We don’t just want people to love us, we need them to-and this is where I came to a crossroads in my relationship with Abba:  I had to learn to trust Him and Him only.  

The past two years had taken an emotional toll on me, I admit it.  I finally stuck up for myself with a family member-the results being that we have not connected in two years.  She was the one I told everything to, loved since she was a brat who waked around the house with a nightgown on her head-and screamed at warp volume each and every time my brother and I entered a room.  For years I was in torment over the constant back and forth, months of the silent treatment, the gaslighting and triangulation.

I was in denial, until I phoned her after being stalked in an incident at Middlecreek Wildlife Sanctuary.  It happened in broad daylight, and I was shaken to my core.  I called her and asked her to return my call.

She never called back.  It wasn’t discussed until a year later, the results were the same-she dropped the subject.  Mere months later I would have the most harrowing supernatural experience of my lifetime.  I reached out, told her not to worry if she saw anything on Facebook.  Told her and the fam that I was, indeed, okay.

Not.  Word.  One.

I am over my anger, I am over my heartache, I have forgiven.

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There is no appealing to her sensibilities.  She does not think she has done anything wrong.  We are at an impasse.  Every video and article I read tells me that no contact is the only way to go, but is it?  Perhaps, but what if we went at it like this:

The person whom you feel has abused you has been abused themselves.  More than anything in the world, the offenders want and need to be loved and are terrified of you not loving them.  Realize that they have done the best they can, and before anyone makes a move?  A few ground rules:

Assert yourself.  Ensure the other player understands that you will not be bullied, emotionally manipulated or shat upon under any circumstances.

It’s not about you-it’s about their dysfunction.  You are only responsible for your dysfunctionality.

Make an agreement the past will not be regurgitated like last week’s meatloaf.

Pray for them.  Sincere prayer can and does work miracles.  I am living proof of that.

I believe, as my husband says, that it’s six of one, a half dozen of the other.

But before any attempt at reconciliation, we both understand that in our own ways we love each other fiercely, and would be there in a heartbeat if needed.

In a perfect world

 

The Still, Small Voice

If I could give you one word to the wise when it comes to getting sober, it would be this-

Every day you don’t take a drink or pick up is a miracle.

And where do miracles come from?  God, of course.  Jesus.  Just writing His name soothes my soul.  I’m not preaching, I am stating fact.  If there is anything you need to be a success, it is your relationship with your Lord and Savior.  You may balk, thinking what does she know?

I know everything about the disease of addiction, and I acquired the knowledge during a 12 year journey of recovery.  When first sober, after a stint that resulted in me in hospital, with a cop at my door.  I thought there was no hope, not a sliver of a chance that I could climb out of the pit of despair I had found myself laying in-the bottom, for me.  I had attempted to slit my wrists, and I did a crappy job of it-but I also threatened my husband with a knife over a bottle of wine.  I don’t remember doing this, but I sobered up just as he was telling the social worker, and I cried out-

“Why, why are you lying???”

Thing is?  He wasn’t.

I spent the night, escorted to the potty by a cop, and whatever they gave me knocked me out cold for twenty four hours.  I awoke to the sound of my husband pulling out of the driveway, on his way to work.

I called my boss, sat down and cried.

I was absolutely frightened out of my skull.  I searched the cupboards and found a big jug of wine.  I stood there, on the kitchen chair, and stared at this bottle of poison.  To this day, I believe that I would have taken a drink if it hadn’t been for one thing:  Jesus was carrying me.

I put down the jug.  Too tired to fight with myself, I ascended the stairs and crawled back into bed.  I slept a lot in the very beginning.  Sleep was my only safe space, and my body was working overtime at ridding itself of the toxins accumulated over my drinking career.  I lost fifty pounds, without trying.  I later found out that I should have entered a rehab facility, as I had gone cold turkey.  The withdrawal from alcohol had put my father in a coma some thirty years before.  The irony has never escaped me.

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There were horrible mood swings and a backlog of grief.  I absolutely hated the people that could have a drink and enjoy a night out.  For years I felt as if I was truly missing out.  Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t miss anything else-the hangovers, the guilt, the drink and dial-but I wanted, more than anything else in the world at that time, to be a normal person.

And that was it, wasn’t it?  The incredible self involvement us addicts are guilty of while using.

Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me.

The biggest slap in the face was realizing that not only did I put alcohol before my husband and family, but I put it before Abba.  Somewhere along the line, I forgot the nature of my sins.  I never stopped praying, but I was incredibly selfish and I regret that now.

So, my advice is this-

Take one minute at a time, and take each moment with God, not alone.

Without Him we are powerless.

With Him we are fearless.

There is hope, love, a future.  You are not a horrible person, and as it turns out?  Most alcoholics and drug addicts are incredibly compassionate and sensitive.  We don’t understand the lack of love in the world, it hits us harder than the average bear.  I was 56 years old before I realized that there was evil in this world.  I had no sense of boundaries, as often happens with children of alcoholics.  I truly thought that we were put on this earth to help and care for one another-it was a slap in the face to learn otherwise.

Two years ago I made a covenant between God and myself.  I promised Him I would never take a drink again.  I never promised anything to anyone, because I always fell short, always screwed things up.  So you can imagine I was pretty serious when I made this pact.

The miracle happened when I lost all desire to ever take a drink or drug again.

There is no shame in addiction.  None whatsoever.  It means that you leaned on a crutch like anyone and everyone else.  Food, gambling, smoking, drinking-gluttony is gluttony, anyway you look at it.  But it doesn’t matter in the end.  What matters is discovering what your personal kryptonite is-and then addressing the murderous pain it has caused you.  When you successfully process your grief, you won’t need a drink or a drug.

Stay strong.  Be a badass.  He has you~