sex abuse education

As a survivor of childhood sexual abuse, I believe in sex abuse education. I've said it before but I'm going to go into more detail of why I believe it and who I think should teach it. The majority of childhood sex abuse happens by someone the child knows, a lot of times within their family. If we leave the education up to the parents, what is the child to do if it is the parent who is abusing them? The parents wont teach what to do and how to get help. That's why I believe it should be taught in schools. Not by teachers who don't know anything about sex abuse and what it can do to the child. I  believe it should be taught by a child psychologist. I think it should be in small groups, and not putting girls with boys. At most I believe there should only be 2-3 students being taught at a time. A large group would just be distracting for the children and they really wouldn't learn anything that they need to. It is important for children to know what touching from an adult or another child is appropriate and what isn't. It is also important that they know they have somewhere safe to report the abuse. We live in a society filled with naïve people. They believe this is something that should be taught at home. And I agree, a good parent would already have taught their child about things that can harm the child and how to get help. Again, I stress that most sex abuse victims get victimized by someone in either their home or a trusted position within their circle, a parent, a sibling, a grandparent, a family friend, a babysitter. There are multiple people who are trusted with children these days. The only way we can truly help prevent the abuse is to teach the kids what the abuse is. We also need to teach them how to get help so they can get help earlier than most children would without the knowledge. I think a lot of my pain could have been prevented had I known it was wrong and how to get help at an earlier age. I believe parents should also be educated on the silent cries for help. By that I mean the things kids will do subconciously to get help because they don't know how to say it out loud. I'm talking about behavioral changes, wetting the bed, different eating habits, acting out, and many others. Basically children who have never been taught about the abuse don't realize that it's wrong and wont tell anyone because of the threats they hear from the perpatrator. Deep inside them, their subconcious knows it's wrong and will show some outward signs. I beg of anyone who has children or plans to have them in the future to seek information on this subject. Parents are the first line of defense for children against any form of abuse. The more the parent knows, the more that can be taught to the child, and the more these things would be prevented or caught early on so the children can start receiving psychological help right away.

As a survivor...

I believe every child should be taught about sexual abuse. When a child is sexually abused, the bruises do not show on the outside and unless you are looking for the indicators that something is wrong with your child you probably wouldn't know. Most children who are victimized are told if they tell, someone will get hurt, usually a sibling or parents, pretty much anyone who is special to the child will be threatened. The other thing they are told is that if they tell, they themselves will be hurt. That is why most sexual abuse of children goes unreported until they are older. Kids need to be taught at an early age what is appropriate in their relationships with other people and what isn't. They should also be taught what to do if it is happening or has happened to them. Even if it is a family member. Sexual assaults are usually done by someone they know. What most people don't realize is that it doesn't just affect the childhood of the victim, it affects the rest of their lives.

I'll use myself as an example so people can understand the full scope of what a sexually abused child goes through in life. As I am only 28 I can't tell you what happens after that but I will tell you what I've experienced so far. My biggest problem is trust. I am different than some victims because I was physically and emotionally abused also but any abuse hurts a person for their entire life. When a child is hurt they will give warning signs; wetting the bed, overly emotional, acting out, etc. I did not have those and I believe even if I had, nobody would have noticed because of the neglectfulness of the adults in my life. The way I dealt with it when I was going through it and just after, was by blocking it. Not only did I block every bad experience, I also blocked the good ones. I have very few memories of the first 6 years of my life and the ones that I do have are the bad ones. I was very happy when I went to live with my grandparents. I was spoiled rotten and I was finally in a stable home. I had abandonment issues but my grandparents proved to me that they were not going to leave me. I was ok until I hit about thirteen. Then the memories started to come back. My counselor said that in situations like that, the victim will start remembering things when they are ready to deal with them, which could mean years of dealing with horrible things since you don't remember everything all at once. To this day, I will still have flashes of memory and each one makes me relive everything horrible that I remember. Thirteen was a horrible age to start remembering being sexually abused. Early teenage years are when you start noticing boys, but in my case, I had a very hard time getting personally involved. Sure, I had guy friends but they really didn't know anything about me. At that point, I don't think anyone but my family knew me completely. Each year brought new memories. By the time I was sixteen I was severely depressed; more than any teenager should ever be. I wasn't very active in school and hardly had any friends. I did have a few good ones who did help as much as they could. That year was the year I started counseling. Not one counselor I have ever seen has personal experience with sexual abuse. They knew the steps that the books talked about but when I asked if they actually helped, they couldn't really tell me. At one point, I began cutting myself. I wasn't doing it like kids do it today because it's "cool". I did it because I was hurting so much on the inside, I needed a way to let some of it go. I felt better as the blood ran out of my body because it felt like some of the pain was going with it. For me it was a relief and something only I could control. This continued everytime I had what I call a flareup. Just like any injury, you have certain times the pain will come out of nowhere. I've been told this will happen for the rest of my life. At the age of twenty I ended up in the psych ward on a 72 hour suicide hold. This was my sort-of rock bottom. At that point I realized I really needed to deal with what happened to me, not just play at dealing with it. So I started the process. The bad thing is that I will never fully deal with it. It will be part of me for the rest of my life. I will have good moments, bad moments, and really bad moments. I still have trust issues. When a family member hurts you in that way it makes you feel like you can't trust anyone. Before I will get close to people these days, I will make sure that I can trust them. This is earned over time and through experiences together. I have yet to have a serious relationship because I have not found a guy I trust completely. Also because the Mormon church has taught that sexual activity makes you "unpure". Even though logically I know it was not my fault and I wont be held accountable for what happened to me, there is still a part of me that is the little girl who will always ask "what did I do to have this happen to me?"

I am announcing publically to friends and aquaintances who have no knowledge of my childhood and what was done to me. This has not been easy, but I believe this is a necessary part of the healing process. I know I will never be able to have a healthy relationship with a man until I can talk about what has happened to me. I know I have strong beliefs on anything that can hurt children and I hope through these blog posts you can understand why. I am going to start advocating strongly for children to be taught about abuse and how to get help. Children and women who have been sexually or even physically assaulted do not report this because of fear; fear of what people will think of you, fear of being hurt by the perpetrator, and even fear of not being believed, which happens more than it should. I know that if I hadn't been through the experiences of my childhood, I would not be the person I am today. This has made me want to become a child psychologist who specializes in abused kids. I will help children who have been abused the same way I was. I will be able to tell that child that it's not easy to deal with it, but you can work through it and have a happy life based on personal experience. If you, or anyone you know, have questions feel free to ask. There are some I might not be able to answer but the majority of them I feel like I can.

Dear Elder Tad R. Callister,



 

Does this look like a girl who is asking to be sexually abused?



 

Today I am writing because I am well and truly pissed. Here I am considering going back to the Mormon church and up comes a news story about an article that will be part of the March issue of the Ensign. The article is by Elder Tad R. Callister. In his talk he states “Women particularly can dress modestly and in the process contribute to their own self­ respect and to the moral purity of men. In the end, most women get the type of man they dress for.” So I take this to mean that if I don't dress to the church's exact standards, I don't deserve a good man for a husband. There is nowhere in the scriptures that states I have to wear clothes that cover up my shoulders, are not lowcut, are not too short or tight. They want me to consider my body a temple so I have respect for myself. I do have respect for myself and my body. I do believe that sex is meant for marriage and committed relationships. And guess what?! I have a tattoo and more than one earring in each ear. I do not believe I am going to hell for something I did to my own body. I believe that if I act the way I believe the Lord wants me to or the best that I can then I will have the same chance at heaven as others who follow those same beliefs. It is also sexist to believe only women have to dress modestly. He's taking away all the responsibility of men.

 

 

In the article Tad R. Callister also stated,   "Our dress not only affects our thoughts and actions, but the thoughts and actions of others." and went on to say, "the dress of women has a powerful impact on the minds and passions of men, if it's too low, too high, too tight it might prompt improper thoughts in the mind of a young man striving to be pure." The fact that he is putting it all on the women is almost stating that it's ok to rape a woman who is wearing a tank top because she asked for it by the way she dressed. That was the point of the picture at the top. I can never see myself going to a church who teaches it's young men that the sexual relationship they have with women is up to the woman. Men have brains just like women and stating that it is up to the women to dress accordingly so as to not tempt them into an action they don't want to commit is degrading to everyone. It's almost like stating it's the child's fault you couldn't control your urges. This is coming from a little girl who has survived all kinds of abuse including sexual abuse. These teachings have made it very hard for me to get into a real relationship for fear of rejections because I'm not "pure". I believe Elders who have these kind of beliefs are sending the younger generation away from the church. This feels like a last straw for me. I've done really well on dealing with my childhood considering everything I went through but this is like telling me that my actions caused me to get physically, mentally and sexually abused.

Catching up

It's been a while since I've posted. So much has happened. I haven't spoken with the guy who shall remain nameless. I deleted him from Facebook. And he has obviously moved on since I found out he got married. Which is good because it made me realize that I deserve to be someone's first choice. I deserve a man who wants me, issues and all. And with me, there are always multiple issues. Not just emotional, but physical too. I feel sick most of the time, my stomach hurts and there are times where I'd just like to lay down and die. But I'm stronger than that. I've survived all types of abuse as a child so I will not let health issues get the best of me. I've even taken steps to figure out why I'm still getting sick when having my gallbladder removed was supposed to make me better. I've got tests scheduled for September 5th to make sure I don't have Crohns or Celiac disease. And they're even going to check to make sure I don't have any precancerous spots in my esophagus. All of this is scary to me. I've had an upper scope done before but this time I have to have that plus a colonoscopy. Can you imagine, a colonoscopy at 26?! It's funny because as I've been dealing with the stomach issues I've realized that my emotional problems from my dysfunctional childhood are basically gone. I'll always have some issues of course. With my trust having been broken so badly at such an early age, I will always have problems trusting people. I've gotten better at it though. I have more friends and people in my life that I've let myself trust and rely on. And my life is better because of it. It gives me hope that I will be able to trust a man completely someday. Not yet, I'm not quite ready for the responsibility of that but I know that when I'm ready for it, I'll be able to make it happen.

Wish I could fall down the rabbit hole...

So in March He called me one night and asked what I was doing. Not because he really wanted to spend time with me but because he had plans with someone else and they weren't ready yet so he had time to kill. If nothing could tell me how much I meant to him, it was that. But I still gave him a chance. So when he texted me the next time with our inside joke of "Did you grab my ass?" I texted back and said "I would've before you made me feel like nothing more than a backup plan." That was at like 8pm on a Wednesday. I finally got a text back from him on Thursday at like 10am saying "hey, you're not my backup plan. you're my friend and I always have lots of fun with you." So I texted back "Really? Then why'd you stop calling me when you were dating the democrat?" Him: "Where is this coming from? At least I make an effort to remain friends. You hardly ever take the initiative for us to hang out" Me: "I want more so I keep my distance cuz I'm afraid you'll hurt me. I'm just trying to figure out what's going on." Him: "I'm sorry if I've upset you by my actions. It was never my intention. You're truly one of my best friends." Me: "You're one of mine too but I can't be friends while I rip off the band aid and move on. It hurts too much." Him: "I understand" I gave him the chance to say if he had any feelings for me more than friendship and he doesn't. Which hurts a lot. It's a relief having it out there but it still hurts every freakin day. And every time I see his picture on facebook I want to punch him in the face and nuts and laugh at him while he's bleeding profusely from his nose and laying in the fetal position in agony. I know it's harsh but he's hurt me so many times and I think he doesn't even feel anything. He went on his merry way without realizing he lost the best thing that he could have ever had. There's another part of me that hates myself for telling him and losing that friendship. And I want to take something to make me forget. And I want to cut myself to bleed out the pain. But I don't do it because mentally healthy people don't do that stuff and I've been striving for that for years. I'm afraid I'm failing miserably. And he's probably out there dating someone on his stupid choir council not even realizing the turmoil he left my emotions in. I hate him for making me love him. I hate him for making me laugh. But mostly I hate him for making me cry. I hate that I gave him enough power to hurt me. I knew better but I didn't listen to my instincts and now I live with the consequences. Some of my friends say he could still come around and the sad part is that I'd probably say yes if he decided he wanted a life with me. I'm pathetic that way.

If i'm not the one thing you can't stand to lose...

If I'm not that arrow to the heart of you
if you don't get drunk on my kiss
if you think you can do better than this then I guess we're done
let's not drag this on
consider me gone

I'm in love with someone who will never love me back. He's like a best friend and that makes it worse. If you've know me very long, then you know who I'm talking about. I love being around him. We have so much to talk about. But he says stuff that hurts me. And it makes me want to punch him in the face which is probably not the best thing for me to do. I want to tell him how I feel but I'm afraid I'll lose my friend. I think he already knows. Sometimes it seems like he doesn't care. He talks about the girls he's dated. About one in particular that he really liked. And I want to shake him and say, "Don't you know how much that hurts me? How you're the only person I can ever see myself with and you're talking about dating and marrying other girls?" One second he's saying, "we have so much fun together" and the next he's talking about someone else. I'm in love with him and have been for probably 6 or 7 years. Does he even freakin care?! Every time I try to space myself from him, he calls wanting to hang out and I can't say no. There's so much he could ask me to do and I would. I realize it's not healthy but it doesn't change the fact that I can't deny him anything. I keep hoping he'll have an epiphany and realize that I am the love of his life. And no matter how hard I try to forget him, there will always be that hope. I'm not sure I'll ever meet anyone who can make me forget him. And that scares the shit outta me because I do want to get married and have kids. But he's the only one I can see that happening with. My sister told me I need to cut all contact. No texts or calls. That it's such an unhealthy relationship that I need to go back to counseling. I know that. But it doesn't help me stop it. I can't turn it off. I've tried dating other people. I'm so hopelessly hopeful I could bang my head on a wall for an hour and there would still be the tiniest bit of hope in me. He could be the biggest jerk in the whole world and I would still hope deep down that he would come around one day.

My pity party...

I spent most of today throwing myself a pity party. I felt like my life was shit. Like all I did was work to pay my bills and I wasn't even fully accomplishing that. What started my pity party was a call. I was supposed to have an appointment with Valley Mental Health. I've been depressed lately. I know my warning signs. So I sought help. Fat lot of good that did me. They called and told me this morning that they can't see me because I have the possibility of getting insurance through work. Who cares that my depression stems mainly from my problems with money and that I can't afford the effing $263 a month to pay for the insurance. Or that I've applied for all manner of help from the government and they have failed me yet again. I seriously make like a grand too much a year. How pathetic is that? So I stayed in my pajamas all day cuz I took the freakin day off for this important appointment and they screwed me over so I read and played on the computer all day. I just now remembered to get on here and change my current books and all that stuff and then I remembered that Christy told me to go read her blog. So I did. And I feel so dumb for throwing my pity party. I realized that as shitty of a day I might have and as much as the government fails to help the middle class and probably always will, I will always have my friends and my memories. I have the 3 best friends in the world. First there's Kitty aka Danielle. She and I met when I was 17 and she was 15. I think my first words to her were a threat of death by running her over with my car. From that point on, we were inseparable. When my Grandma called and told me that Grandpa was in a coma and probably wouldn't wake up, she dropped everything and drove 45 miles to see me and distracted me by doing my hair. She let me cry on her shoulder through all the tough times I had in high school. She sat with me in the bathroom when my stomach was giving me problems and waited patiently for it to feel better while reading my journal entries in a weird voice to distract me. She stuck with me through all my cutting and all the anxiety attacks that made me have to get up in the middle of a movie because I felt like I was dying. She got me through the beginning and end of the one relationship I've ever had with a guy. I couldn't have asked for a better friend when I met her. Then I met Nibbly aka Jenette. We bonded over shared freaky art projects and a creepy super scary hyperactive seminary teacher. We got drunk off cough drops together and yelled across the room while Sister Judd tried to teach us about the Book of Mormon. Obviously she failed us both. But the times I shared with Jenette yelling over Sister Judd's high pitched voice will be with me forever and I know that I can call her anytime if I need to talk. And then there was Krispy aka Christy. We met at Lin's. We hated each other the first time we met because of Ladd Roundy. Wow, what a waste of a good looking male. But I can't fault him because he made it possible for Christy and I to become best friends. We were the same age and we bonded instantly after we stopped hating each other. She dragged me out of bed to go to class at Dixie State College and I talked her into doing a bunch of crazy stuff like piercing her ear. She was the only visitor I had when I had to check myself into the psych ward. She picked me up afterward. When I had my first pap smear when I was having so many problems with cysts and couldn't stop crying because the Dr was such a prick and I felt like I had been raped, she made sure I got home and stayed the rest of the night with me. She visited me in New Mexico and commiserated with me when the one dating prospect in the entire state turned out to be a selfish prick. So reading her blog and reminiscing on our past experiences I realized how blessed I truly am. I have three great best friends, two awesome nieces, a sister who's lifestyle I don't always agree with but I know I can call her anytime of the day if I need to talk about our childhood, a brother who is bossy and tries to act like a dad but would give me the shirt off his back if I needed it, a little brother who I am just starting to get to know, and a Grandma who sacrificed so much to raise me. With all these amazing people in my life, how in the world can I throw myself a pity party without looking like an idiot. So thank you Christy for reminding me that my life is not shit. It might have it's moments but there is enough good, probably more good than bad, to make life worth living.

Some people...

Some people really piss me off. I know a lot of people don't like Sarah Palin. I even respect your right to dislike and like whoever the hell you want. But DO NOT try to get to that person by saying shit about their baby who has Down syndrome. What did that baby ever do to anyone. It's freakin disabled. I have a really soft spot in my tough act for children. Especially children with disabilities. Haven't they been victimized enough just by being born with something that will make their lives so hard. They will get made fun of in school. They will struggle just to accomplish every day things that normal people can do in seconds. I respect that Sarah is finally putting her kids first. Say all the mean and vulgar things you like about Sarah. She chose her position. And yes, she also chose to put her children in the spot light by running as Vice President. But her kids are innocents. They don't deserve to be put down and harassed just because of who their mother is. I don't think I've ever seen such despicable treatment of children by the media in my life. So what if Bristol got knocked up. How many teens out there get pregnant all the time. At least she took responsibility for her action and didn't go out and have an abortion. I think that's an easy way out. If you're mature enough to have sex, then you're sure as hell mature enough to deal with the consequences. How hard is it to walk yourself to the local Wal Mart or drug store and buy condoms? If it's so embarrassing that you can't handle it, then you're not mature enough to be having sex in the first place. And the pill. It's not hard at all to get these days. Your parents don't even have to know about it. And parents, why the hell aren't you telling your kids about contraception? I know adults want to preach abstinence but it just doesn't cut it. Keep on top of them. Your kids are going to have sex whether you talk to them about it or not. If it was my kid, I would much rather get them a prescription for birth control or a box of condoms then to see them end up pregnant and having a baby before they are old enough to take care of that baby. And don't even get me started on these women who have little girls who end up hooking up with child predators. Then they wonder why their kid disappears. Your dumb boyfriend had sex with your little tiny girl and didn't want you to find out about it. Not only do they allow these men to get close to their children, they cover up for them. "It couldn't have been ****. He was set up." If he's convicted, that means there was enough evidence to put the bastard in jail. And our Justice system? Sucks monkey balls. How can a guy who rapes kids be able to get out in 6 years with good behavior. Of course he's gonna behave in prison. He's in his own little part of the prison and there aren't any kids for him to victimize. Let them out in general population and let the guy who's already serving a life sentence give the sicko the sentence he really deserved. As you can see, I get really passionate about kids. I hate any form of abuse. And I believe even saying bad things about a poor helpless little baby is abuse. Not only that, it's just wrong. Can these people honestly look at themselves in the mirror each day after they've said awful things about a baby with down syndrome? It all makes me physically ill.

stab him in the jugular and twist...

I said a couple days ago I'd blog about a text I sent out to some people that I didn't want to explain the whole story by texting it. It was just too freakin big and intense for that. So here it is:

Let's start off with the text I sent to everyone. "I helped catch an escaped convict like an hour ago"

Before I begin, let me apologize for the language but it was all intense and I couldn't control my cussing. And even talking about it now is intense so I still swear when telling the story.

So Tuesday we had a guy come in to cash a check. If you don't know this already, I work at a check cashing/loan store. It was a Maryland state tax refund check and we verified the check but the guy's id was expired so we were doing everything we could to verify him so we could cash it. We called the big boss but he was in a meeting and wouldn't answer so we told the guy we were waiting for approval and if we could cash it we would call him to come back in. We kept making calls and somehow, one of the calls alerted the cops. Twenty minutes after the guy left, a sheriff's department deputy walked in and started demanding information about the check casher. He wouldn't tell us anything about what was going on. He was a complete ass. We offered to call him back in and he refused and stomped out of the store. Like fifteen minutes after that, more cops came in. This time detectives. The one was asking us questions when we get a call from a detective in Maryland. He wanted to talk to the detective in our lobby. So we let him back and they talk about extradition and all that fun cop stuff. Then we offer to the detective to call this guy and tell him we can cash his check so he'll come back in. They say yes and we call him. We're all like, we need to know if you're coming in so we can get the money together and he said something like, yeah maybe later. So we're on edge wondering if he's actually gonna show. We're surrounded by cops watching the store. All this happened around 1:30 or 2:00 in the afternoon. At around 4 the guy still hadn't shown and one of the detectives was going off shift so they all left, but the one still on left his cell number and told us to call him if he showed. We start looking at the copy of the check and find that his name is misspelled so I decided to call the detective in Maryland to see if he could find out if it really was fake. And I wanted to know what the guy's charges were. I was seriously curious. But I also needed to know if he was violent in case I had other customers in the lobby and I had to protect them. Meanwhile, we have other customers. We were helping a lady who wanted a loan and I had to call another store with some questions. I'm talking to her and I tell her the story of the guy that came in being an escaped convict. The bell on the door suddenly chimes so I look up and HOLY SHIT he's standing right there. So I say to the lady on the phone, and these are my exact words, "Oh shit, he's here. I gotta go." Right when I saw the guy's face, adrenaline rushed through my system making me shake so bad I could barely hang up the phone. I was trying to hit the panic button and barely hit it. I called the detective and was like, "He's here. I hit the panic button. Please hurry." He said, "We'll be right there." and hung up. Then I call my boss and I'm talking to her while we're trying to get the lady wanting the loan out of the store so we can lock the perp into the store. Skyler, the guy I was working with at the time, said to the guy, "let me see your id and check so I can copy them again." The perp was watching him as he did it so Skyler knew he had to do something to distract him. He pulled the top on the copier up too early so it blacked out the page, then threw the paper onto the floor and said, "Piece of shit is broken." The guy looked at the paper when it was flying to the floor giving Skyler time to hit the switch that will lock the outside door from the inside. It was fine for a second then some guy tried to pull the door open and obviously couldn't get it. So the guy inside walks over to it and trys to push it open. "Hey, your door is locked." So we have to pull something outta nowhere and we're like, "Piece of shit door did it again. I have to call corporate get them to fix it." By then the detectives had told the guy outside to get the hell outta the way and knocked on the door. We let them in. They came in with their guns drawn and pointed at the guy yelling, "Get on your knees. Down on the ground." They cuffed him and took him outside. They emptied him pockets, patted him down, and shackled his feet. It was such an intense moment. Scary as hell. Not sure how I made it through without either peeing my pants or puking but I did. I think I held it together pretty well. They took the scum bag to jail and he's now on his way back to Maryland and double the time in prison for pulling a stupid stunt like escaping prison and hiding halfway across the country. That was my exciting day. Hope you enjoyed the story.

Cancer sucks...

I found out today that a coworker passed away on Tuesday after battling cancer for a long time. She gave a good fight and she lost. I feel horrible. I only worked with her a couple times but she was so memorable. Her attitude was awesome. I know she will be missed by those around her.

This makes me remember Chris. Chris also died from cancer. She fought hard but cancer is a really hard thing to beat. And thinking about Chris dying makes me remember how we became friends. It's hard remembering how emotionally unstable I was at that time. We were away at a church activity. I had been self-medicating. And I broke. There was nothing I could do to make it better. The guy I was dating at the time couldn't handle it. He didn't want to hear me say that I wished I was dead. So we broke up in the middle of my emotional breakdown. All I wanted was someone to hold me and tell me that I would get through it. Chris was that person. She found me in the bathroom sobbing out my self-loathing. She held me while I cried it out. She helped me find the guts to admit I had a problem. So I told her I had been taking pills. And I gave her that bottle to flush down the toilet. After that I was numb. I still didn't deal with everything. But every time I needed someone to talk to, Chris was there. She saved me from myself on so many occasions I lost count.

After Taci's accident, Chris was the only person who could make me feel better. It was so hard watching Taci go from the chubby exuberant baby to practically a newborn all over again. That wasn't even the hardest part. Watching how frustrated Taci got when she couldn't do the things she used to be able to do was. She would cry a lot. I hated seeing her pain and it practically killed me. I didn't know how to cope with my own pain, how could I help this precious child cope? But Chris showed me how. She would hold her and whisper in her ear and play with her. When I was too emotionally exhausted to deal with Taci, Chris would step in. She always knew when I needed help. She never once had to ask me.

And then when Chris was dying, she was so unselfish. That's what I wont ever forget. Her capacity to love and take care of the people around her even when she was the one who needed to be taken care of. She was so sick that last time I saw her. It literally hurts my chest to even think about her in that condition. But the whole time I talked to her, she only asked about Taci and me. She never complained about how horrible she felt. She was so amazing. It hurts to realize I don't have her to turn to anymore.

Chris was an inspiration to me. When I think of the person I want to be, it's her. And I know that whatever I accomplish in my life, she had a huge part in it. She got me started on the healing process. It wasn't easy dealing with being abused when I was a teenager so I just didn't. I cut myself to feel better. I took Lortab to forget my pain. I isolated myself when I should have been talking it through. And eventually I landed myself in the psych ward. I'm grateful for that experience. I know it sounds strange, but that's what finally forced me into working through my issues. I'm so glad Chris got to see me after I healed. I still have times when I don't feel all there and like I could breakdown at any moment but I just think of Chris and how amazing she was. She fought cancer twice. She won the first time. If she could make it through cancer, I can make it through anything. So thank you Chris! You saved my life.

Grandma dearest...

So Grey's Anatomy on thursday was soo good. It made me think and cry. And I don't cry for just anything. But there was a little girl who shot her dad like 17 times. A little extreme, right? Not so much. Turned out he was beating her mom and her and she was just trying to get him to stop. The mom was trying to get little Maddie to apologize to daddy almost the entire episode. Meredith, who is probably my favorite tv character ever, stuck up for the little girl and almost got suspended. But somebody had to stick up for the child, right? Even though the mom was a victim too, she should have put the little girl first. It shouldn't have gotten so bad that the little girl had to stick up for her mom. She was 6 effing years old. At the end of the episode, Meredith walked up to the mother and was like, "I know your situation is hard. But you need to change Maddie's story. It shouldn't have gotten so bad that Maddie had to protect you both. You need to leave him and not let this be in vain. Change her story for the better." Not those exact words, but you get the drift. The mom finally told the dad they were leaving for good and had Maddie say goodbye to daddy for the last time. But it got me to thinking. Not such a good thing, sometimes. But in this case it was. I thought about all the people in my life when I was the same age as Maddie. And about the people who put me first. And there was really only one person. Grandma. When everyone else I trusted was victimizing me, she took me away. She spoiled me rotten, held me when I cried, and showed me how to be a good person. And I finally realized the true definition of Mother. She's it. It isn't a bunch of words to me, it's a person. An incredible, unselfish, amazing woman. So I called her that night and told her thank you and that I loved her. I'm glad. I'd hate for something to happen to her and for her not to know that she is the most amazing person I know, and will ever know. And because Mother's Day is just around the corner, I wanted to share my amazing Mom with the rest of the world.

Book reviews...

I've created another blog strictly for book reviews. I figure since I read so much, I might as well do something with it. If I totally suck at it, then oh well. At least I get something out of it. If I totally hate a book, or a character in the book, I can rant and rave about it there. I'd do it here, but since I read books that some of my friends wouldn't read I decided to do a separate one. If you don't mind sex and cuss words in your books, then check out my reviews. If you do, you probably don't wanna look at my reviews. I read a lot of Romance and Romantic suspense. There is sex, violence, and mucho swearing in them. I know, I'm a bad cookie. But it's my form of escapism and I love it.

Anyway. On a different note. Lately I've been noticing a lot of pimped out mini vans. I know you want a nice vehicle to take your family around town but do you need to put on special rims and lights? I just don't understand it. If you need your vehicle pimped out, you probably shouldn't have kids. Just sayin. Pay more attention to your kids. In the time it took you to pick out the rims and lights and have them put on, you could've taken your kids to the park. And the money your spent on it? You probably could've taken the family on a vacation. It's beyond my comprehension. It seems like something my biological parents would do. They loved to spend money on unnecessary things. Like drugs, alcohol, clothes, and make-up. But us kids never had anything nice unless our grandparents bought it for us. And even then, it would get messed up because of a lack of parental supervision. Shouldn't kids and their needs be the number one priority in all families? I know, stupid things make me angry, but that's how I am. I guess that's all the opinionated BS I have for you today. I'd love to hear your opinions so leave me a comment.

The Library...

I'm doing a blog today to specifically tell the whole world that I love the Salt Lake City public library. They always have new releases as soon as they can get their hands on them. I hardly ever have to buy books anymore cuz they always have the ones I want to read. Or if it's checked out by someone else, I can request it. It takes hardly any time for my request to be filled. They transfer books from other locations too. So it's also convenient. The bums that are always hanging out front kind of creep me out, but it's a building filled with books! How can I ask for more?! Seriously, that's my own personal version of heaven!

New purse!

So I got a new purse friday night. It's so pretty! Here's a picture:

It's great cuz it's big enough to hold everything I could possibly need. My book and lotion and wallet and everything else. I'm just excited I can take my book everywhere with me. Here's a picture to show how big it is:

Now everyone who reads this knows how much of a freak I am. If you didn't already know or suspect. So here it is. I AM OBSESSED WITH HELLO KITTY!!! Scary isn't it?!

Bullet proof...

I think it's time for me to get outta customer service. Probably not but it sure feels like it today. I started out my day with probably the most annoying customer we have at this store. And I was here at 9 so I was already grumpy. I'm so not a morning person and probably never will be. Anyway. It just got worse from there. There was a guy who took 5 hours to fill out a form. I'm exaggerating but it felt like it. And he tried to hand me his change through the little space in our bulletproof window. There's a reason we have the bulletproof glass and wall. And only a little space for you to drop your stuff in the tray. Because we don't want to touch your grubby hands. So let's learn to just drop it in the tray and let me pick it up.

On a much happier note, Grandma sold her house! I'm so happy I could pee my pants. But I wont. I do have some self control! She's coming to visit next week so she can look for a house in the Salt Lake area. And she's staying with me. Which means I should probably clean and unpack. Yes, I've lived here since last July. I'm just not one for settling in, I guess. I'll probably just shove boxes of stuff in my closets or against the wall. But it will be clean. I swear it. ;) I'll even vacuum and scrub the toilet. That's how much I love my Grandma!

Books, books, and more books!

My life is all books and tv. It's a sad existence but I like it this way. For now... Anyway. All my favorite authors have new books coming out. I'm way excited. And then a lot of my favorite authors do contests and give away copies of their books and other things that have to do with books. It's pretty awesome. I have two author's contest links at the bottom of my blog. But that's not really the point of this post.

The point was to talk about Law & Order: SVU. The episode last night got me thinking. About the war and about child soldiers. I guess I never realized that they're pretty much forced into fighting. The character on the show witnessed his mother being shot to death and that's how the militia group initiated him into the group. And then they threatened to kill all of his family so he would murder for them. Eventually they did end up murdering his entire family so he had no one to turn to. It must be so hard to not have any family. My family is small, but I know if I called them and needed help, they'd be there in a jiffy. That's what family is for.

And then I think about the American soldiers who are fighting in Iraq and Afghanistan and how hard it must be for them to shoot kids. But it's shoot first or be shot. But the evil we're up against is huge. And you'd have to be practically satan to force children to fight in a war. It's abuse. And I hate all forms of abuse, but especially the abuse of children. It makes me sick. It makes me want to pick up a gun and go after all those predators out there. But then I'd be stooping down to their level.

I think that's why I read so much. The reality of our world is horrible. The economy is crap and there is so much hate and violence out there that if I sat and watched the news every day I'd go insane. So I read books that always have happy endings cuz I know there are kids and women out there who don't get one and it depresses me. If I didn't have some form of escapism I'd curl up in a ball under the covers on my bed and stay there forever. So my existence isn't that sad afterall...

Lisa Kleypas Smooth Talking Stranger

Lisa Kleypas Smooth Talking Stranger

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My old man...

It's been exactly one year since Grandpa passed away. I'm sad, but I'm ok. I've pretty much been in denial the whole year. But it'll hit me at random moments that he's gone.

At the age of 6, social services finally decided that my parents weren't fit to be taking care of 5 kids. At first, my grandparents took the four youngest kids. My oldest brother went straight into foster care. He went to live with a family that went to the same church as us. So my grandparents were taking care of 4 kids ranging in ages 5-10. If they had been able, they would've adopted all four of us. But they were retiring so they could only handle 2. They adopted my sister and I. We were living in Cincinnati when we were taken away and my grandparents brought my sister and I to Utah.

My Grandpa did everything he could to make us happy. He got a part time job so we could participate in after school activities like dance, basketball, softball. Whatever we wanted. We always had nice clothes. Grandpa made sure of it. I was pretty much spoiled when it came to material things. He wasn't an emotional person. He never told me he loved me. There are only a few times I can remember him saying he was proud of me. But he showed his love by providing me with everything I could ever want.

It wasn't until Niki was born that he showed much emotion. After that, he was a big mush ball for her. She was "his girl". He would sit there for hours holding her, playing peek-a-boo. He would always pull pictures of her out and say "this is my great granddaughter, isn't she pretty?" He was so proud of that. He didn't relate to Taci as much because she was so independent she didn't like to stay in one place for long. After Taci's accident, Grandpa was there. He would sit in the rocking chair holding her just like the rest of us.

He wasn't always nice, but he was MY meanie. And I'm going to miss him. So Rest In Peace old geezer! :D

My eyes... I can't see my eyes!

So I got some new glasses. It's weird wearing them again. But I can see and I might actually like them better than contacts. I know my eyes aren't as itchy as they were. I haven't figured out if they've made my headaches better but in time I'm sure I'll see. So here they are all by their lonesome. Just so you can see the design.

And here they are on my face. It's a crappy picture but I put it on here just so you would get an idea of what they looked like on my cute lil chubby face. So enjoy peeps!

scuzzy slutter gut...

So I get to see one of my best friends this weekend. I'm so effing excited. That's where my subject comes from. We used to call each other that all the time. We were insane back in the day. We probably still are, we've just calmed it down so it isn't so much in the open. But when we get together, it's always insane. I've really got to get a picture of our "found art" project we did in high school on here. It freaked out even our craziest friends.

The store I'm at has one door that works and one that doesn't. There's a paper on the one that doesn't work that says "please use other door" or something like that. I've watched like 5 people walk into it today. Can they really not read? Seriously! It's pretty funny. That's all my ill brain can come up with today.