Five Things I'm Scared To Tell You... And a Video!

Five things I'm Afraid to Tell You

Lauren from "Filing Jointly... Finally" did a post about five secret things she doesn't like to admit to. She followed it up with a challenge of sorts for her followers with blogs to do the same. I'm always up for a challenge.. right?

I hope this doesn't loose me the few followers I have. *laughs* Alright, let's do this.

#1 I am terrified of loud noises

When I was a kid, we lived on the railroad tracks. And I mean almost literally. You could stand on my grandmother's front porch and throw a rock onto the tracks without that much effort. They're not very busy now, but in the 80's there were many trains travelling that length of track, and they would blow their whistle as they went through the area. I remember laying in bed, absolutely CERTAIN that there were awful things, possibly undead things, using the train's passing to cover their approach. I wouldn't know they were coming because the trains were too loud. It was terrible! So I'd lay very still, hoping that if I was still enough they wouldn't find me. To this day slamming doors, fire alarms, when the radio is up loud... anything above conversation level... is very alarming to me. I love live concerts, but I'm also very anxious during them.

#2 I grew up in the ghetto, very poor

And by ghetto, I mean the fucking ghetto. I grew up near Oakland California, and I saw my first shooting at the age of 14. I've seen people hurt, I've known people who've died. People I've gone to school with have over-dosed on drugs, or gone to jail. A sickeningly large portion of the girls I went to high school with have been sexually assaulted, sometimes brutally. And for a long time.. I accepted it as "normal". It's just what happened. Now that I no longer live there, I'm often embarrassed by where I came from. It never occurred to me for years that the home I grew up in would be considered unlivable to most people. Quite honestly it should probably be condemned. My in-laws have gorgeous homes, with huge manicured lawns, and nice jobs. Many of the friends I have online and in real life come from lovely homes, and families I would consider wealthy, and I often feel like any day now they will discover that I do not belong in their world. "Not Our Kind, Dear".

#3 My ex husband was abusive

And I don't mean he shouted at me a lot, although he did that too. Not that verbal abuse is any better... but yeah. My blog here is fairly anonymous, there isn't any connection from my Facebook to this blog on purpose. There are one or two people who are still in loose contact with him, and I'm scared of him finding this blog. It is my haven, my safe zone where I can rant all I want, about anything I want. In saying that, I'm not ready to share details, because I tried to talk about it in an online forum before, on another account, and he found it, and threatened my Gramma. His sister was (Still is? I dunno, I stay away from any and all contact) a psychopathic meth addict, and I totally believe she'd hurt my family. I think he would too. I hate him though. I feel anger for people, but he's the only one I hate. For years I felt like I must have deserved it, at least somewhat. He had a reason for it, every time. I finally broke down and told my husband why I'd felt I'd deserved it, and he hugged me, and loved me and told me there was never, ever an excuse for it, no matter what. And something in my chest loosened a little. It's better now, but I still fear him.

#4 I was a drug addict

Yep! Oh boy is that a fun thing to talk about at parties. Actually no, it isn't. So I don't. I usually don't mention it at all. But yes, I was. The particular drug of choice is a rough one, and I'm one of the few I've heard of who were able to come off of it. Apparently, it's difficult. But I managed. I kept all my teeth, all my hair, no scars, and no (obvious) permanent damage. So I win! I'll be damned before I ever go down that road again though, and I have no time for addicts of any kind now. I understand that it is REALLY hard to kick addiction, and I know a few people who are doing awesome at it (alcohol, not anything rougher) but people who are not seeking help, or who keep failing, and letting themselves fail... No time at all. It's not a reflection on them, or their struggles. I do not, let me repeat DO NOT feel like I am better than them, or stronger than they are, or that they are not worth my time. I simply cannot allow that sort of behavior into my life. I've got shit where I need it to be, and messing it up would be detrimental to my well-being.

#5 I am an Atheist who wishes I had something to believe in

I was raised by my mom, and Gramma. My mom is Wiccan, and raised me amongst Tarot cards, and candles, and incense. I remember being really excited when she gave me my very own tarot deck at 7. As I got older though, I found it didn't answer things for me. I checked out Judaism, Hinduism, Buddhism, and even Christianity. None of them spoke to me of truth, none of them resonated in my soul. As a matter of fact I was extremely frustrated and appalled by the bible after I read it. Judges, Numbers, Deuteronomy (several places actually), Samuel, Exodus, and Zechariah all condone, and in some cases encourage, rape. As someone who has been raped, I felt nothing but disgust. There were those who tried to say that those were old, and didn't count, but if you're going to live your life by the rules of a book, you can't just cherry-pick whatever pleases you. I decided to live the best life I could, without a invisible Father-Figure looking down on me, judging me. I don't need a book to tell me what is, and is not right. So I donate to charity, help others, love my fellow people, do kind things for animals, help the elderly, and play with children. I am a good person, who does good things, and will leave a wonderful legacy behind me. I don't need religion to help me with that. But when things are hard, I secretly wish I did believe. Because then I could say "God has a plan" or "The universe has a plan for me" or even "Karma will come around, and things will be better". And I would be comforted. Also, I wish I believed that after I die, I would see all my loved ones again. But I don't.

So... there we go! I hope none of you hate me now, or find me creepy. I also hope I don't get hate mail for not liking Christianity. I have lovely, wonderful friends who are devout believers, and I don't think that they're awful for believing. >
Anyway, this was a pretty heavy blog post, so I should leave it with something to lighten it up a bit.
Here is a video of Seven, attacking a handmade stuffed toy that was made for me by one of my Gramma's coworkers at the hospital. I've had it since I was three years old. Watch all the way to the end. It's only a minute long!



Till next time!