HaCkeD by SA3D HaCk3D
KurDish HaCk3rS WaS Here
FUCK ISIS !
I really don’t think I’ve ever known – or even encountered – any family without some sort of “dysfunctional” facet, some more glaring and obvious than others, but it seems to me those families at the very least get it all out in the open; the most toxic ones act SO normal and loving and considerate, then behind closed doors begins the horror of everyone being fake – albeit snidely – nice, (or at least civil) tension in the air thick enough to slice, punctuated by a nuclear explosion every now and then. There is wasteland laid bare.They pile fake niceness on top of it till the next family war. Like a perpetual cycle of cold war and really hot war, that erodes and snuffs out anything positive.
I’d rather just get stuff out in the open if I have a grievance ……why the hell is this not socially acceptable?!?!
I don’t mean ever by using violence, I mean airing your true feelings in a calm manner, respectful of the feelings of others, and knowing it is almost impossible never to ruffle any feathers. Believe me, some people’s feathers get ruffled because it’s Tuesday, or their neighbor runs the lawn mower at the ungodly hour of noon on a Saturday…..and an endless giant smorgasbord of blah, excruciating minutiae with which to hold on to those grudges.
I know I’m making lots of broad generalizations here, based solely upon my own observations and my personal interpretations of them. But who made me the friggin’ Queen of All Knowledge? I’m just sayin’.
From what I’ve experienced and seen in retrospect plus what I remember from basic college psychology and sociology 101, every family (or any group of people) has a different dynamic, which to me seems somewhat like a pecking order.
This dynamic is established early on, and everyone has their place. You know, the strong one, the funny one, the quiet one, etc. I was the screw-up one.
So, forty years later, when one of the group (let’s use my family as an example!) is forced to change drastically by stopping self-medicating i.e. getting clean and sober, it upsets this comfortable and entrenched dynamic. However much the members – in my example, three brothers, one sister, and Mom and Dad – may love and want the best for the changed member, subconsciously it is so uncomfortable for the others, they sometimes behave in ways to re-establish the familiar equilibrium of this microcosm world. They struggle to keep their status.
My older sister was always the dominant, outspoken and no-nonsense personality. I always wished I was more like her. So did my parents, usually. She was beautiful, did well in school and looked like my mother; same dark hair, brown eyes, and very petite. They both acted very prim, proper and ladylike, as a general rule. It was like having two mothers who were so radically different from me, physically (I took after Dad, taller, light haired, blue-eyed) and in temperament – often I could feel their twin brown stares of disapproval boring holes through me.
I resented being expected to behave in a way that was so not me, it required a lot of exhausting contortion of mind and soul (and sometimes body). And it wasn’t just behavior. The worst was clothes shopping for school. A day at the department store with two moms. They had very similar taste in clothing, of course. They called it “conservative.”
It was just too fucking prissy for my taste.
Of course I could never utter such words to them. I think my birth mom would probably swoon. They would purse their lips and regard me with the same look as something they just scraped off the bottom of their sensible shoes.
They sort of did that when I tried to pick out clothes that I liked, when I was a teenager and wanted to be a hot babe, look cool and conform with my peer group and most importantly, express myself – you know – like humans do.
They would invariably exchange a look that said: ‘how can we be tactful about this?’ It was at least interesting to see what line of condescending bullshit (so transparent, as if I had an IQ in the single digits) they thought was “tactful”.
Insulting, infuriating to be sure, but if I didn’t want to off myself or get drunk (started when I was 15, for some unfathomable reason), I had to try and find the humor in it. I just wanted to pick out my own clothes and I felt like I had such trashy, slutty, low-life taste in clothing.
This post was started SO long ago and has digressed so far, as the memories come flooding back. Tip of the iceberg, too. All the venting (it’s so therapeutic though) will have to be reserved for another time because I need to learn how to organize my thoughts and writing and post often – like, every day!
Just started new med which is supposed to help me with this, but too early to tell really.
The whole purpose of this post was to relate how I did something so alien to my nature, I NEVER did it before in over half a century of existence on this earth.
I realize now that this stuff I’ve been venting about looks so freakin’ whiny when I finally get it down onto “paper”; everybody has little interpersonal shit like that with their family members.
So anyway, back to the present. I’m glad I’ve grown and can recognize some of these things that seemed so enormously disturbing for so long were but parts of everyone’s life, pretty much.
I spent many years self-medicating with well, just about everything and have all the baggage that goes along with being a known alcoholic/addict, no matter how many years of quality clean sobriety have gone by. It’s never exactly the same as before you started lying and all the other adorable behavior you perceived as necessary for survival. People – especially family and all loved ones – no matter how forgiving and trusting they are now ALWAYS have that possibility in the back of their mind, and you and I would too. I get that.
It’s been 25 years, since I stopped that life. I’ve been through things grown men can’t begin to handle. I’ve survived every kind of abuse and my soul has been crushed, anesthetized and I thought it was gone and dead. It isn’t, it never was, it never will be.
I stopped because I met an angel who demonstrated through his every action the meaning of real love. It took me 2 years to trust him. We spent 23 wonderful years together in the light…he’d led me out of the darkness. Sheer love conquers ALL. Not even addiction with it’s insidious, brutal power stands a chance in the face of pure love. (You regular readers know that Mark passed from this life in 2013)
As it turns out, calling drug addicts garbage, treating them as such, and throwing them into a cage over and over is not the answer. Who would’ve guessed?
I digress again. It’s been 25 years and I still don’t expect it ever to be the way it was before I started down that road and deceived everyone, including those who loved me in their own way.
In these 25 years my family was at first not supportive because they simply didn’t understand and know how to support someone in recovery; it was something they had never really dealt with before. Not having grown up chronologically -you’ve heard of the concept (it’s fact) that whatever age you began self-medicating i. e. seeking a “normal” mind/emotional set to deal with life and it’s overwhelming obstacles, it’s terrifying, alien people who behave and speak in strange ways you cannot relate to – that’s the emotional age you are when you stop. I tried to grow up fast, seeing how regressed and childish I was emotionally, without the basic coping skills my earth people fellow baby-boomers had learned and refined long ago.
I’ve digressed so far from the original intent of this post originally entitled “Confronting My Sister for the First Time in 50 Years”. What started out as a brief background/intro rambled into an entire, too long, disorganized post for which I’ll figure out like, “Scrambled Preamble, Family Crap Dynamics” or something like that.
Promise the big scary confrontation with the big scary sister will be the next post, because there’s plenty of emotionally charged action and excitement there. It’s “tumultuous”. It’s on, bitch!!
First of all, let me say this; although I’m bipolar and have my medications regulated pretty well now, I believe that my opinions are still valid. This may sound like a statement of the obvious to the more enlightened segment of the population and/or those with similar issues and diagnoses.
To many others, it probably sounds like a defensive and paranoid opening statement (thereby tainting all that follows) but forgive me; during recent days I’ve been forced into spending hours at a time in a little hospital room with my siblings – all textbook well-adjusted, model citizens who I love, but who can stand being around such absolute perfection all the time?
We are gathered in this place due to a sudden health crisis (requiring surgery) of our ninety-year old, otherwise obscenely healthy Father and the fact that we are close-knit despite the fact that we are very different types of personalities and live far apart geographically and mentally.
There are five of us “kids” (all in our forties through sixties) Six, if you count my half -sister from Dad’s second marriage. (I usually don’t; her mother – and Dad whenever he was having a tantrum – raised her to believe I’m a piece of garbage.) So I’m really not anxious to get to know her – thank God in heaven she lives far away.
It feels like whenever all of us are together longer than a few minutes, I’m watching “the normal, good, smart people show”. If I say anything or offer an opinion it is ignored most of the time. I can perform simple tasks such as fetch ice or a washcloth for Dad, and I get it right almost every time!
Bipolar and Asperger’s (which I know I have, but cannot afford a diagnosis) does not mean “stupid” or “retarded” or “psychotic”.
I love my family, know it’s mutual and that they don’t consciously think of me this way. Maybe they did during our childhood, when mental illness or “difference” of any kind wasn’t understood and was therefore surrounded by fear, leading to ridicule. These issues were rarely spoken of in any respectful and objective scientific manner.
The few who did were considered almost as weird as the “crazy-ass” people of whom they were speaking.
But I digress. Maybe no one will ever see this or if they do, not really give a shit but it is some stuff I feel strongly about and need to get out. It’s regarding our current political situation in the U.S.
Don’t know why this particular quote set me off, amid so much blood-boiling rhetoric being spewed out in the world, but it did. Maybe it was just the last straw.
Here’s my response to this quote by Fox News Caitlin Jenner:
“Socialism did not build this country. Capitalism did. Free enterprise. The people built it. And they need to be given the opportunity to build it back up”
(My response) Here’s an idea: why don’t we just find something that works, no matter what it’s called, to fix what is clearly not working now? The thing is EVERYONE needs access to opportunity. Perhaps the average citizen would prefer their taxes to be channeled more towards public universities, better, less price gauging health care, and less towards the pockets of corrupt congress members and the lobbyists who own them. No one’s asking for free stuff or other people’s money. They’re asking to have their democracy back; a say in where THEIR money goes and the go-to, tedious mantra of the super wealthy is to say you’re against capitalism and the “free market” and therefore un-American. This “free market” was once a great thing but has mutated like a cancer into a free market for only the top fraction of one percent who’ve managed to accumulate most of the country’s wealth. They can then make the laws, rob us blind, imprison us for profit, poison us as guinea pigs with pharmaceuticals, destroy the planet’s soil, water, air and the food we eat and keep us perpetually enslaved by debt, inhuman wages, shipping all our jobs abroad, or actual prison and we’ll have no recourse. It’s NOT capitalism or free market or democracy when veterans sleep in the streets and working people cannot afford food. It’s a travesty of justice that this was the America these same homeless soldiers believed in and trusted so much they manned up to shed blood for and some sacrificing their young lives. It seems like all just to keep the military industrial complex rich. We should amend this shame and honor them and their memory by standing up and fighting OUR asses off to end this shit now and take our beloved America back. Stop allowing loaded words like socialism to have so much power over us by the ones who are the fear-hate mongers. It’s playing right into their hands. It’s just a word. And the most corrupt of ones saying words like capitalism make that word an obscenity when it used to mean the great pulsing, wonderful heartbeat of this country and now means the blood-sucking of this country. Get up and fucking vote for the one you know is right.
I keep threatening to write a post every day and don’t know what the hell is wrong with my brain lately. There seem to be no synapses firing. Today is no different except I’m forcing myself to goddamn write anyway. So, since I never seem to have a shortage of things to complain about despite my many blessings, maybe I’ll start out with what’s getting on my last nerve today.
Let’s see… the world. The weather is gorgeous but I really can’t go out in it because my allergies will make it intolerable. It was better when I could afford allergy pills but nowadays, no can do. But the poor chemical and pesticide and whoever else is making the planet uninhabitable for humans, well they have to stay in business! This is more important than anything or anyone else. That’s just a darn shame.
Enough about me and my petty little problems like not being able to afford transportation, adequate health care, medicine, (natural or pharmaceutical overpriced crap) or food or rent – hell, most people here in the good old U. S. of A. are in exactly the same boat….or living in their car. Well, the lucky ones; others live in a “cardboard condo.” Darn shame.
This presidential election was starting to scare the living shit out of me especially when Bernie Sanders seems to be too far behind. Personally, I think he and Elizabeth Warren are the only ones who can save us.
Trump reminds me of a cross between Hitler and Bozo. (Yes – the clown, not the world renown physicist.)
I used to like and admire Hilary before I realized what a slick talking bullshit benefactor of big banking and finance she is and expects us to be stupid enough to believe this in no way influences her policy decisions. Sounds like the utmost logic to me.
Besides her husband’s terrible legacies remain with us, in fact started the ball rolling faster downhill. I feel so guilty for voting for him but I thought anyone is better than a Republican – like Bozo or maybe one of the three stooges. Or that guy walking down the street. Or carpet fuzz.
Wow – what do you know, I can write for eternity when I get on a good political rant!
Just my personal beliefs which may not be the most educated or articulate or even right. I try to remain open-minded and not shut out other people’s thoughts and ideas.
I think we ALL have good ideas and many other valuable things to contribute. Every single life matters. It strikes me as obscene that too many of these potentials are sick, dead or incarcerated only because of money. I wonder how many Einsteins, Mozarts, Hawkings, Pavarottis, Angelous, Tolstoys, Jobs, are rotting away in jails or worse institutions, simply for lack of money.
Help, God. Please.
I feel like Beth is back. I woke up this morning and she was there in my head and heart after what seems like a lifetime. I mean, I went with Missy for our walk and it’s one of those gorgeous sunny days, but cold….a true gift here in Florida, no brutal heat beating down….and thoughts just flowed naturally. The vivid colors and beauty of the trees and grass and flowers struck me as an expression of love, surrounding me and wrapping me in comfort. I was so lost in thought, we almost bumped into the mama duck and three of her little ones. The sight of the tiny fuzzy ducklings, miniature versions of their mother, waddling in single file behind her or even sweeter still, imitating her exact movements as she grooms and flaps and dries herself, is heart-melting and just so freaking cute!
Drifting along in my head about family, how beautiful everything looked, and this and that, I suddenly realized something extraordinary – I felt at ease with the world and in my own skin. This hasn’t happened – not even close – in years. I’d never begun to even grasp how much of a prison my anxiety had become, a cell with walls closing in over time until this was the mental equivalent of being let out of the closet I’d been living in….for an eternity. I can’t even describe the freedom I’m feeling but I’m crying so hard, tears of joy.
Now, a little later, I’m forcing myself to eat something substantial for breakfast. This is a struggle. Beth is just a little bit gone and I miss her. But if I get some nourishment, some quiet and my medication, soon she’ll be back. She’s still the most present that she’s been in a long time and for this, I’m grateful today.
It’s a unique kind of thing and doesn’t happen very often but today it did, transcendent of ordinary consciousness, and inexplicably outside of time. An unheralded grace: knowledge blooms into my consciousness, a quiet uplifting out of my mind’s tendency to gravitate back into the worn groove of it’s perpetual and virulent loop; sneaky, whispering, shouting, “reminding”me innocently, sarcastically, nonchalantly, gleefully twisting, how thoroughly worthless I am and always will be.
I’m simply made aware of the truth of my humanity; that I am flawed and yet have seeds of goodness too, like every other human being. Not a voice exactly, more of a presence…. yet speaks to the deepest part of my soul with no judgement, only a tremendous love infusing throughout me.
My weaknesses and character flaws and mental illnesses, the things I’ve done as a result of these, things I’m so deeply ashamed of….they mean I’m human. Not evil. Not worthless. I’ve also done good and kind things for others, human and nonhuman. I’ve had love in my heart and compassion for others. It’s viscerally agonizing, I mean nothing infuriates me more (or causes that kind of pain, the kind that makes you literally physically thrash around, fearing you’ll lose your mind with it) for me to see or know of any sentient and helpless creature enduring cruelty and suffering…. I know many, if not most people feel to some degree the same. But I’m not going to trivialize it in myself, thinking, “So what? Everybody feels bad about stuff like that. It doesn’t change what a worthless piece of shit you are!”
That compassion in me is not nothing.
It is something.
Despite the fact I’ve also done lying, cheating, cowardly, despicable things to other people.
I trudge through, trying to know how to live in this world. There are obstacles, internal and external. They seem too overwhelming at times.
I mostly do mundane things, the occasional brilliant thing, plenty of bone-headed, completely dumbass things. I love but have jealousy. I hate but justify it. I have moments of such malignant pettiness, they make my face burn red, even years later. I also nurture, empathize and try to bring back healing joy to abused, damaged creatures. I scream, curse profusely, and briefly wish unspeakable atrocities upon other drivers.
This describes me. What eluded me for too long was that it describes all humans, pretty much.
Guess what? I’m a human instead of an evil wicked monster!
I joke, but it will take awhile to evolve from knowing that in my brain, to just knowing it.
It’s been a weirdly wonderful different Christmas day. Just me and my beloved best friend, and of course (canine) family member Missy. Here’s my pretty girl poodle’s picture…she is a rescue and has known much suffering, but never again…I hope all homeless animals will find the forever home they deserve!
I’ve much to be grateful for this day, especially God and His infinite love for us all.
Merry Christmas, fellow humans who happen to be alive on earth at this same point in time, and chosen to be “different” (I wouldn’t change that about myself for all the tea in China)
Talk to y’all next year…..
I started this post to be titled “This Day Sucks” but I’m tired of my usual reflexive and childish (infantile, really) ranting about how everything and everyone sucks just because things and people don’t do exactly what I want! Trying to grow up here, and about time since I just turned fifty five years old. That’s over half a century. Some of us are slow learners.
Here are all of my blessings – first of all, I woke up. Underneath my own roof. With food in the refrigerator. And my beloved poodle Missy, old and diabetic but ready and raring to go and SO happy to see me! I’m on massive doses of antidepressants and yet every day struggle to force myself to get out of bed and eventually do only because of Missy…..this is slow death. You can’t just lie down and give up. I can walk, I can talk, see, hear, write, drive – well not now because my ancient clunker of a car has a dead battery – and I don’t know if I can afford to buy a new one or if it’s even worth the money since I can’t afford insurance. It’s been cancelled and it’s not legal to drive without it and I do not want to be a person who breaks the law, in addition to being unemployed and living on disability. I feel like I’m taking up space and resources I don’t deserve and always have… didn’t take good enough care of my husband and that’s why he got sick and died. I feel guilty for existing. No purpose. God must think so or I wouldn’t still be here, right? Sometimes I think that all the people who learned the lessons they were supposed to got called back to God but the rest of us have to stay here till we do learn and fulfill….but it’s a curse because this world is like hell for us. I’m so confused, lonely. I have family who loves me but they can’t do everything for me …I have to figure this out!
How did I get so afraid of everything all the time and so easily overwhelmed by what others would consider minor problems? The last thing I ever wanted to be is a sick, crazy, dependent, useless person. I will not commit suicide because I’m NOT giving up.
I hate this shit…I feel a million different ways and yet nothing fully formed….I miss human contact, male human contact. Then I feel like a horrible despicable excuse for a human being because I still love Mark and miss him so much it hurts, I want someone to hold me and let me cry and tell me everything is going to be alright and I know now how infantile and storybook fairy tale that is…..I don’t think that exists anymore, if it ever did. I hate my weakness and usually try to armor myself for the daily fight, the battle of life in this jungle. Even on a sunny day it feels so cold and empty as though God has left us…I know that’s a terrible thing to say about my Creator whom I KNOW loves me.
There have been two significant men in my world since Mark died and left this fallen earth a little farther from grace by his absence. Neither knows it but I’ve felt like both are so much my soul mates, like they already know me better than I do, and I “love” them from a distance I think, and I know how totally batshit fucking crazy that sounds! Anyway, one is married and one is in a relationship. To me that means off limits.
What is happening to me?
Thanksgiving was 2 weeks ago and it was a really nice one till Dad and Lea started to get a little drunk and do their little drunk obnoxious stuff…it’s the old familiar (and yet now curiously pallid and tedious) dance of cruelty from my childhood…..but just a teensy bit of it; and considering that my sister DID cook a feast like you would not believe…..what the hell am I whining about?
There used to be a time when I’d focus on stuff like that and totally forget the rest of the six hours we spent together. I’m just tired of doing that; I have a family who loves me and would do anything to help me in times of trouble and we’re all very different types of people. So, like probably every other family in the universe, put us all in a room for too long and we’re gonna have problems, it’s human nature!
I used to take that kind of stuff personally and am glad to have moved past it, you know, for the most part…..
Reminds me of when I met Mark, I’d never been in a long lasting healthy relationship. I thought you were never supposed to fight, nor have the desire spend one minute apart from each other. Wow. How living in the land of make-believe is that?!
Near the beginning of our relationship the two of us went through a spell of about a year (maybe it only seemed that long) when we lived and worked together, even driving to work in the same car….we grew to despise each other, I’m not kidding. You just can’t spend every minute with another person, at least I can’t. You have to have room to be the individual that you are.
So I requested a transfer to a different department, where we never saw each other during the day and we began doing some separate things on weekends and our love endured.
I guess I’m trying to make some kind of point here instead of just pouring out a bunch of stuff from my old drug-addled brain….I guess I’m just trying lately to concentrate on what we as humans share instead of continuously and pettily focusing on our differences, specifically how fucked up everyone else is!!
So happy holidays all you fellow dysfunctional, immensely loving families and all you wonderful, awesome, bone-headed fellow humans out there….let the love prevail despite the fact we’re all flawed.
Sometimes I think the only reason I get out of bed these days is my dog Missy. Today started out with the usual blah feeling, joint pain and then the smile and joy at seeing her in her little bed next to mine, waiting patiently or just waking up at the sound of me stirring….
So we’re on our “morning” walk (sometimes it’s eleven- o- clock) I ran into one of my neighbors, whom I rarely see. This is a woman whose shining soul radiates…she reminds me of Mark in that way.
Now (sort of for practice, but also is fitting here) I’m going to post a pic of a beautiful painting by Henri Matisse, one of my favorite artists. Because Virginia (the aforementioned neighbor) brings to mind the light and the purely beautiful colors.
Thank you Virginia, for reminding me that there is love, humanity and compassion in the world and you care about me, most of all that God has not left us as I think in moments of my deepest despair.
Know too that you are loved and that the good energy you emanate outward into the universe touches many lives.