And now it is gone. Done. Over with for another 365 days. Why do I dislike the holidays? To be certain I always have. And it is always brimming full of tragic events, death and unhappiness. This is why I dislike holidays. They always fill me with dread, reminding me of pass events - ghosts in my head.
I thought about it for a while, it took longer than I thought. But when I had to accept the fact that I am required to participate, regardless of whether or not I want to, I had to find a way out.
My way out? Moments. Simple moments. That is how I get through these times. If I live in a moment, it is gone - be it good or bad. But if I dwell on the good moments, the very slightest of joy - it helps me to get through.
I could tell years of stories of why I dislike the holidays but I've already done that. Therefore, I will just be in the moment. This moment.
Now...
Wednesday, December 25, 2013
Sunday, November 24, 2013
Monday, October 28, 2013
The sins of the father....
Exodus 34:7
Keeping steadfast love for thousands, forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin, but who will by no means clear the guilty, visiting the iniquity of the fathers on the children and the children's children, to the third and the fourth generation.
My first question is "who comes up with this cockamamie crap"? Second is if this was written a few thousand years ago, why does it continue to permeate in todays society? The way I see it - being second generation and all in this country - why must the sins of this country visit me?
I originally was going to entitle this "The White Whipping Girl"; but with the NSA and such - don't want anyone breathing down my neck for stating truth. So why am I the "white whipping girl"?
I would like to know that answer as well. However, it is unlikely that that answer will be found. My story begins when I was seven. Since my parents divorce, my mother decided she didn't want to be one anymore and gave me that job. So I take my youngest brother to the local park to play. He wanted a drink of water and as I was lifting him up, I watched two other white children, a boy and girl tipping over filled cups of water. I had no idea who put them there or why these children felt the need to do this. What I do know is what happened to me because of it.
As my brother and I are leaving the park, I am confronted by about 12 or so black girls who tell me that I am the one who dumped over their water cups. I was confused and scared. I was afraid they would hurt my brother. When I told them I did not know, they take my brother from me and start pounding the shit out of me. And their parents looked on - and allowed it to happen. Why? Because they felt I was responsible for slavery in this country that my family was brand new to? Yes that is exactly why.
But it didn't stop there - it has continued up into my adult life as well. In junior high, the black girls would beat on me, steal my stuff and laugh at me for the pain they have caused me. Am I still responsible for the sins of this country? And if so - why do not the American Indians scalp the Spanish and English for taking their lands? And why do they not pour out punishment due to the "sins of the fathers"? I dropped out of school by the end of 10th grade due to other reasons.
Yet it didn't stop. I was working at an aerospace company in the early 90's and a man who was the head of the program but not my boss profusely punished me due to the "sins of the father". He would take me into his office and scream at me as if I were the person he was angry at and once he got it all out he would let me return to my desk. This happened so frequently that HR wanted me to file sexual harassment charges against him. That led to this man calling my home, sending me letters and sitting outside of my apt. building. When finally confronted with an ultimatum, I got fired for not doing what HR wanted of me.
When I had finally received my HUD that I had been awaiting for some time so that I could live alone and concentrate on my education more deeply, again, the sins of the father returned. This time it was my black HUD worker who told me I could not live where I lived (I did eventually return), it was too nice for me, and he wasn't having any of that. He forced me to move into a trailer park; into a trailer that, well let's just say the only things that worked were the water and the lights. When I told him I did not have to move, that the owners of the building in which I dwell, wanted me here - his response was "You have no rights - your rights belong to me". Now this story is much longer than I wish to go into, however, when really bad things were happening to me and I would call him - all he did was laugh in my face. Again, the sins of the father had be bestowed upon me.
For the last 3 years I have been asking for help to finish my education so I don't have to live on social services and can be dependent on my own means, the sins of the father visited me yet again. The man who was my rep at the DOR died right after I finished my BA. He promised me graduate school, the black woman who took his place denied me that. Told me I would never get to go there. I had to get a job. So I got one, the only one I could get at a fast food restaurant. So this woman decided that this is sufficient employment and says she is canceling any services I should get from DOR. Mind you, I have been disabled for 17 years now and have spent 8 years trying to get an education that I can do with my disability. Social security had told her that this was not sufficient employment. So now I become her dog. For two years this woman made me jump through hoops so that could get help. Well now that that program is coming to an end she had the audacity to have me see a psychiatrist. He was white and asked why I was there, there was nothing wrong with me. I explained that it was one more hoop I had to jump through.
This woman wouldn't even consider nor allow the neuropsychologist's report to be a part of this - possibility because I am well above average, and when I talked to neuro; his response was: "why is she doing all of this - you are brilliant". Maybe that is why. But again, I am living the sins of the father.
Last week was the last straw. While sitting in my supervision group and discussing a young man whom been referred to me, a black woman in my group says "Oh, he won't talk to you - you're white and we were taught to be afraid of white people". Really? And which white people were you taught to fear? Because it certainly wasn't my people, they lived in other countries and did not come here until long after slavery was over with. And not just that, but if one considers history - there hasn't been one culture that hasn't been enslaved nor enslaved their own people. So.....
And yes I am tired of being the white whipping girl...really tired of it.
FYI: the reason I did not used the politically correct term usage is due to the fact is that their are not from Africa, only their lineage as is mine is from other countries. I do, however, have one aunt and two uncles from Nigeria and the two uncles that are here are indeed "African American".
Keeping steadfast love for thousands, forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin, but who will by no means clear the guilty, visiting the iniquity of the fathers on the children and the children's children, to the third and the fourth generation.
My first question is "who comes up with this cockamamie crap"? Second is if this was written a few thousand years ago, why does it continue to permeate in todays society? The way I see it - being second generation and all in this country - why must the sins of this country visit me?
I originally was going to entitle this "The White Whipping Girl"; but with the NSA and such - don't want anyone breathing down my neck for stating truth. So why am I the "white whipping girl"?
I would like to know that answer as well. However, it is unlikely that that answer will be found. My story begins when I was seven. Since my parents divorce, my mother decided she didn't want to be one anymore and gave me that job. So I take my youngest brother to the local park to play. He wanted a drink of water and as I was lifting him up, I watched two other white children, a boy and girl tipping over filled cups of water. I had no idea who put them there or why these children felt the need to do this. What I do know is what happened to me because of it.
As my brother and I are leaving the park, I am confronted by about 12 or so black girls who tell me that I am the one who dumped over their water cups. I was confused and scared. I was afraid they would hurt my brother. When I told them I did not know, they take my brother from me and start pounding the shit out of me. And their parents looked on - and allowed it to happen. Why? Because they felt I was responsible for slavery in this country that my family was brand new to? Yes that is exactly why.
But it didn't stop there - it has continued up into my adult life as well. In junior high, the black girls would beat on me, steal my stuff and laugh at me for the pain they have caused me. Am I still responsible for the sins of this country? And if so - why do not the American Indians scalp the Spanish and English for taking their lands? And why do they not pour out punishment due to the "sins of the fathers"? I dropped out of school by the end of 10th grade due to other reasons.
Yet it didn't stop. I was working at an aerospace company in the early 90's and a man who was the head of the program but not my boss profusely punished me due to the "sins of the father". He would take me into his office and scream at me as if I were the person he was angry at and once he got it all out he would let me return to my desk. This happened so frequently that HR wanted me to file sexual harassment charges against him. That led to this man calling my home, sending me letters and sitting outside of my apt. building. When finally confronted with an ultimatum, I got fired for not doing what HR wanted of me.
When I had finally received my HUD that I had been awaiting for some time so that I could live alone and concentrate on my education more deeply, again, the sins of the father returned. This time it was my black HUD worker who told me I could not live where I lived (I did eventually return), it was too nice for me, and he wasn't having any of that. He forced me to move into a trailer park; into a trailer that, well let's just say the only things that worked were the water and the lights. When I told him I did not have to move, that the owners of the building in which I dwell, wanted me here - his response was "You have no rights - your rights belong to me". Now this story is much longer than I wish to go into, however, when really bad things were happening to me and I would call him - all he did was laugh in my face. Again, the sins of the father had be bestowed upon me.
For the last 3 years I have been asking for help to finish my education so I don't have to live on social services and can be dependent on my own means, the sins of the father visited me yet again. The man who was my rep at the DOR died right after I finished my BA. He promised me graduate school, the black woman who took his place denied me that. Told me I would never get to go there. I had to get a job. So I got one, the only one I could get at a fast food restaurant. So this woman decided that this is sufficient employment and says she is canceling any services I should get from DOR. Mind you, I have been disabled for 17 years now and have spent 8 years trying to get an education that I can do with my disability. Social security had told her that this was not sufficient employment. So now I become her dog. For two years this woman made me jump through hoops so that could get help. Well now that that program is coming to an end she had the audacity to have me see a psychiatrist. He was white and asked why I was there, there was nothing wrong with me. I explained that it was one more hoop I had to jump through.
This woman wouldn't even consider nor allow the neuropsychologist's report to be a part of this - possibility because I am well above average, and when I talked to neuro; his response was: "why is she doing all of this - you are brilliant". Maybe that is why. But again, I am living the sins of the father.
Last week was the last straw. While sitting in my supervision group and discussing a young man whom been referred to me, a black woman in my group says "Oh, he won't talk to you - you're white and we were taught to be afraid of white people". Really? And which white people were you taught to fear? Because it certainly wasn't my people, they lived in other countries and did not come here until long after slavery was over with. And not just that, but if one considers history - there hasn't been one culture that hasn't been enslaved nor enslaved their own people. So.....
And yes I am tired of being the white whipping girl...really tired of it.
FYI: the reason I did not used the politically correct term usage is due to the fact is that their are not from Africa, only their lineage as is mine is from other countries. I do, however, have one aunt and two uncles from Nigeria and the two uncles that are here are indeed "African American".
Wednesday, October 9, 2013
Love...
Tina Turner asked "What's love got to do with it; is it just a second hand emotion?" I have been pondering this myself for a while now. What exactly is love? Is it an emotion fueled by chemicals and hormones or is it simply evolutions way to keep human kind creating more humans?
Family love - is this just really attachments built upon years of interaction or is it love? Love for friends, again is this really just something that keeps us from completely fading from life or is it seeking attachments that were unmet during your life time?
In reflecting back on my life, past loves and those that have passed, I am seeking to find whether or not the people in my life at these times were those I loved or just people that I knew? People that I merely grew an attachment to.
So when you take away the fairy tales that our parents gave us about love and family, when you take away the sex and are left with nothing more than hormones and chemicals - whose to say that love isn't nothing more than a fairy tale.
I think it is nothing more than hormones and chemicals...
What would love have to do with that?
Family love - is this just really attachments built upon years of interaction or is it love? Love for friends, again is this really just something that keeps us from completely fading from life or is it seeking attachments that were unmet during your life time?
In reflecting back on my life, past loves and those that have passed, I am seeking to find whether or not the people in my life at these times were those I loved or just people that I knew? People that I merely grew an attachment to.
So when you take away the fairy tales that our parents gave us about love and family, when you take away the sex and are left with nothing more than hormones and chemicals - whose to say that love isn't nothing more than a fairy tale.
I think it is nothing more than hormones and chemicals...
What would love have to do with that?
Monday, September 9, 2013
Sunday, September 8, 2013
The Other Side...
The grass is always greener on the "other side", everything looks different on the other side. What exactly is the other side? Is it like a side dish? Some thing that is just on the side or is it getting to the other side? Not really sure just yet.
I think that I have come to the "other side". The previous side was a means to get to another side, due to that side becoming lost in the phases of my life. And now that I am at the "other side" is it really different? Aside from test taking and endless days of study; the only difference of being on the "other side" is that it is now lays in the concept of application, and study is still inevitable.
So what does it mean for me to be on "the other side"? It feels so surreal as if I am watching someone else, but it isn't it is still me. Maybe because there is yet still another side I have not yet found. A side that still torments me, haunts me. Maybe I need to find another side in order to get to the other side?
Not sure...but what I am sure of is that one day...I will get to the "other side".
Wherever that other side may be...
I think that I have come to the "other side". The previous side was a means to get to another side, due to that side becoming lost in the phases of my life. And now that I am at the "other side" is it really different? Aside from test taking and endless days of study; the only difference of being on the "other side" is that it is now lays in the concept of application, and study is still inevitable.
So what does it mean for me to be on "the other side"? It feels so surreal as if I am watching someone else, but it isn't it is still me. Maybe because there is yet still another side I have not yet found. A side that still torments me, haunts me. Maybe I need to find another side in order to get to the other side?
Not sure...but what I am sure of is that one day...I will get to the "other side".
Wherever that other side may be...
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
The Valley of the Shadow of Death...
"Yea, thou I walk through the valley of the shadow death, I will fear no evil" - once said by King David. Walking through the valleys of life, can sometimes prove to be a most wondrous of jouney's and others not so much. And how do we find our ways when the path is not so bright and wonderous?
I found myself wondering that for a while now. And why sometimes we must walk that same faithful walk of King David. How do we get to the other side? And once there will we be ok? Will we be able to be the person we were prior to this walk, or are we fated to become someone new? Yet the most interesting question is "why did we have to take this walk - one that at the very most uncertain"?
As I walked through this valley, which had been darken by death - I could not be sure of anything. I prayed to ancient diety to save me. But did they? Or was it simply just a universal fear of an Unforeseen God that saved me? What ever the case may be - I had to walk it one last time.
Although in retrospect, maybe I needed to do so in order to bring not just this, but other valleys to light as well. Life is funny that way; slam the past right into your face to force you to look at that which you choose not to see.
It started with a TV show that is shown only on Flix I started watching. The show is about a woman who has a "last chance" Angel who was sent to save her from the valley of death she chose to walk through. I am not a religious individual; but I do claim to be spiritually based in faith. As the show progressed, so did my renewed walk through my valley of the shadow of death, but not by choice of my own or doing.
And what I found was great release as well as relief. So many things that needed to be said, so many things that need to be brought into the light.So many secrets of abuse I was keeping to myself. While telling myself that it was ok, I'd find a way out. Yet the way it came about was so unique yet so intense. Why do we choose to keep such secrets - everyone does. Secrets that can have such a devastating effect on us.
During my journey through the darkest valley of death, there was only one aspect of my life that I had utter and complete control over and once that control was threaten - it threatened my very existence. I was shattered and unable to find a way to eleviate this madness. So I had decided to remove myself from this valley and found myself being removed from others as well.
I remembered one day, driving home and thinking about an episode I had reently had seen where Earl the Angel sought help from fellow angels to find his charge. They had created an energy force that touched everyone who knew this woman. Tbe looks on the faces of those touched - how I longed to feel the presence of an angels wings ladened with the love of God. As I pondered this very Hollywood aspect of the Divine, I found myself bathed in the most warm and loving light; while driving down the 405. It was the closest I had ever felt to the Divine, God, my God, the God I have know since childhood.
And then everything changed...
"And yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death", never again will I fear evil...
I found myself wondering that for a while now. And why sometimes we must walk that same faithful walk of King David. How do we get to the other side? And once there will we be ok? Will we be able to be the person we were prior to this walk, or are we fated to become someone new? Yet the most interesting question is "why did we have to take this walk - one that at the very most uncertain"?
As I walked through this valley, which had been darken by death - I could not be sure of anything. I prayed to ancient diety to save me. But did they? Or was it simply just a universal fear of an Unforeseen God that saved me? What ever the case may be - I had to walk it one last time.
Although in retrospect, maybe I needed to do so in order to bring not just this, but other valleys to light as well. Life is funny that way; slam the past right into your face to force you to look at that which you choose not to see.
It started with a TV show that is shown only on Flix I started watching. The show is about a woman who has a "last chance" Angel who was sent to save her from the valley of death she chose to walk through. I am not a religious individual; but I do claim to be spiritually based in faith. As the show progressed, so did my renewed walk through my valley of the shadow of death, but not by choice of my own or doing.
And what I found was great release as well as relief. So many things that needed to be said, so many things that need to be brought into the light.So many secrets of abuse I was keeping to myself. While telling myself that it was ok, I'd find a way out. Yet the way it came about was so unique yet so intense. Why do we choose to keep such secrets - everyone does. Secrets that can have such a devastating effect on us.
During my journey through the darkest valley of death, there was only one aspect of my life that I had utter and complete control over and once that control was threaten - it threatened my very existence. I was shattered and unable to find a way to eleviate this madness. So I had decided to remove myself from this valley and found myself being removed from others as well.
I remembered one day, driving home and thinking about an episode I had reently had seen where Earl the Angel sought help from fellow angels to find his charge. They had created an energy force that touched everyone who knew this woman. Tbe looks on the faces of those touched - how I longed to feel the presence of an angels wings ladened with the love of God. As I pondered this very Hollywood aspect of the Divine, I found myself bathed in the most warm and loving light; while driving down the 405. It was the closest I had ever felt to the Divine, God, my God, the God I have know since childhood.
And then everything changed...
"And yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death", never again will I fear evil...
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