Blog

After being blasted by two persons today for having a Blog and making all the family secrets public, I decided to do some researching on just who does read this blog and just how famous I am.

I started with Google.Com.  My name, as it is legally spelled is a very common name.  After the fourth page of searching for myself I gave up.  My name, as it is spelled on Facebook is a bit more unusual.  After looking at all of those, I found that none of them were me.

I no longer have a business but my old business in Maine was flourishing!  The new one here was not mentioned.  So, there we have removed all search engine connections, including any for this blog address.

So, I looked a bit closer.  Although I am on Twitter, Pinterest and Google, this blog does not show on them but it does show on Facebook.  However, it only is available to my “friends” so I therefor went through the list of my friends.  I had around 275, mostly people who were owners of the breed of dog that I love or people that I felt were close.

Because of the fact that my family is so upset about my posts becoming “the talk of the town”, I removed all other people that lived in this vicinity and all of my family.  This way it proves that I was and am “the talk of the town” because people have signed up for my blog and are distributing the information.  My family?  Local people that I thought were friends?  These are all people who have signed up to get notifications of when I write a new blog.  If you don’t wish to hear my words, please remove yourself from the mailing list.  If  you do wish to hear what I have to say so that you can tell my Mother how untruthful it is.  Fine.  Remain on my mailing list.  And again, if you are upset about what I say then think before you do things to me to hurt me because I will tell about it.

This blog is for me.  It relieves pressure and makes me feel better.  My life right now is not going very well and unfortunately, all I have to talk to is a computer.  I do have friends on facebook obviously (and not so friends on facebook) but I need to emphasize that it is not to hurt people.  No personal names have been mentioned.  If neighbors of my family know who the “youngest sister” or whatever is, it is because the “youngest sister” or whatever gave them this address to read the blog on.

I would like to say goodbye to my family.  Since they are the ones that seem to be reading this blog then I will say it here “publicly” because you will not give me an opportunity to speak with you personally, nor do I wish to at this moment.  You should be happy.  You won’t have to see me anymore nor will you be hearing anything that I have said personally to one of my sisters.  If I have hurt you, I’m sorry.  However, you WERE there when things happened.  Because you choose not to remember them because it hurts YOU is no excuse.  I honestly did try to make it work and even though you say everything I say is a lie, I have told the truth.

It is true that I disturbed the family unit by remembering things.  However, if I remember correctly I have not been the only person to do this.

For those of you who do not know what a blog is I’ve attached a definition.

A blog (a truncation of the expression weblog)[1] is a discussion or informational site published on the World Wide Web and consisting of discrete entries (“posts”) typically displayed in reverse chronological order (the most recent post appears first).

I’m Baaaaaaaaaak

I’ve returned from my trip to Maine.  It was wonderful except getting in!  Somehow I took a look North of Boston and got off the throughway and got completely lost.  I was on another throughway (I think that is all Massatutti has).  I went into a little store and asked how to get to Maine because the map book I had was only of Maine.  The Gentleman at the counter said that if I would give him $40.00 he would tell me.  Well, basically, I told him nicely (not so nicely? what he could do with his own $40.00. and continued on my way.

New Hampshire has no sales tax so there are huge liquor stores along the throughways.  I would stop and call some one at one, get directions, and end up at the one on the other side of the throughway (after paying my toll of course).  I would ask the toll booth person who would point on and end up back at the first store.  I would do that again.  After four times I bought a small bottle of Jim Beam to celebrate if I ever got of that state.  Finally, Paul was able to give me directions on how to get back on 95.

As for tolls!  There were three in Maine.  One was for $3.00 and the other two were $2.50, $1.00 each time I entered New Hampster, a larger one for the Massatuttie pike and an even larger one for NY.

As I went over the bridge to Maine, I got to the first rest stop and hugged the nearest pine tree.  After 7-8 hours of driving, I was a real tree hugger.  I went into the octagonal (naturally) building and did my thing, came out and couldn’t find Sam and the car.  I walked all the way around the building and still couldn’t find it.  After hyperventilating again, I realized that there was a parking lot over a berm with pine trees on it.  Whew.  By then Sam had hyperventilated, too!

On to 90.  It felt like the hills and trees and rocks were hugging me.  Things have been busy since we left Maine.  In Massatuttie it looked like they were doing fracking all along the pike.  In Maine, the towns are growing; especially Auburn, Lewiston and Augusta and they had a few more extensions on 95 so where we used to get off looked totally different and where I was to get off was also totally different.  However, off we go and BINGO, there was my hotel!  However, the problem was to find the entrance.  Lots of back doors and a restaurant (that had dynamite chicken and spinach soup – in fact I gave a tablespoon to Sam and for the rest of the trip he would look at me when I put down his food as if saying “not on your life”).  Finally found the entrance, my unit, unloaded the car while Sam cried in the bathroom, sat down and called who I needed to call and had a shot of Jim Beam in water.  I even had a gas fireplace for ambiance.  I was settled at about 9:00 p.m.?  Actually I can’t remember.

Because of my mental illness (just kidding relatives) I can’t abide thinking of  bed bugs but didn’t have to worry because I grabbed the blankie and pillow that I had carried and flopped over sideways and crashed after eating the best soup in the world.  Sam guarded me.  He could have told me there was a monster approaching and I would never have heard him.  10 hours on the road is way too much!  However, I did remember the wakeup call and at 7:00 a.m. got up, got ready to see a house at 10:00 a.m, and got very explicit instructions from my girlfriend on how to get there.  After getting lost three time because I was on the wrong side of the river and with 0 minutes to spare I finally found her.  My friend!  A hug!  I was in heaven!

Quick rush to the house because we were late.  A little ramshackle.  Teeny weeny but a yard with lots of potential.  Actually the bedroom was as big as my spare with a closet, the living room will fit my desk and computer with a closet and the kitchen was large but really needs an island because it only had two drawers.  Of course, I can’t cook anyway…  The Property Manager THOUGHT the washer and dryer worked.  Nice even having them at that price.  I was worried about the “partially” finished cellar but I think they meant that because it was so short.  I was the only one that could walk around without ducking and hitting the beams.  And it had a “Wizard of Oz” door to the outside if there was a hurricane.  It needs some work and I asked if I could have laminate instead of carpeting (as long as they were replacing it anyway).  I have lots of hardware to replace the kitchen knobs and I didn’t want to go anywhere else so I said I wanted it.

Now we get to the tricky part.  I said only one person and two dogs were going to live there but of course had to put my husband’s income down.  My Social security would cover it but I might want to eat also.  The trouble:  They do a background check.  Front and center is my recent incarceration in the psyche ward.  So we will see how much that ruined my life.  I told them I had no family but was actually able to come up with one reference.  Paul, of course has family but is anti-social so when I brought the application home, had a bit of a hard time to think of a reference.  I told them I wanted it the first of November.  Oh, it also has a garage almost on the next block!

My friend and I went to eat at a diner that she used to work at and I met two more friends and while sitting there listening to the TV  blaring, I noticed that they were talking about a storm coming from home to there.  So, kissed her goodbye, went back to the hotel, took a long nap, packed and was out of there by 8:00 p.m.  It rained across the Berkshires but the traffic was goo except for the truckers (who were all good except for the one who tried to kill me) and Sam and I were home at 6:00 this morning and I’m wondering where the storm is.

Back to bed and woken up with a call from the Wayne Behavior Health asking why I missed my appointment yesterday.  I’m ready to call an attorney.  I cannot live this way.  I feel so violated.  Paul filled out his application for the house and I’m about ready to take another nap.  I’ve gone through my email and just don’t feel like answering any of the Facebook messages because here we go with no feelings again.  They have to approve me for the house!  What if they don’t?  What if I am stuck in this situation for the rest of my life all because of someone else?  My whole life has been controlled by someone and even though it is scary being by myself I just want to try it once, please.

I didn’t take the Hoosier from you.  You are angry because Dad gave it to me because he had not place to put it.  Even if I asked for a camp – so what?  all my three sisters were given one.  You say I borrowed 20K and didn’t pay it back…you gave that to me because it would save you taxes and said my sisters would get the same.  I will not say anything about the prudential accounts that Dad set up for us.  I have said I don’t want your money. I want your love.

I get notes from my family that is is SO hurt about putting this stuff on my blog and that is why they are angry at me.  Wrong, because they were so angry at me all my life way before I put this stuff on the blog.  People don’t talk to me  that I used to play with and helped them when needed and thought of them as brothers.  It is true that there may be some that don’t want me to put things on here but come one guys – you did it!  You hurt someone.  It is time to pay the piper.

My main personality trait is that I do not, nor can I, abide liars and procrastinators and they stand there and call me one when all I need is an apology.  I have been a scapegoat all my life.  I’m done.  The end.  Just because they give a different face to outsiders does not mean that was the face given to the family.  So fess up.  I’m not sure if they just can’t face it themselves or if they don’t want others to know.  Others don’t have to know.  Just apologize to me.  You won.  I’m going again.  I cannot take anymore private notes telling me how I’m hurting everyone and calling me a liar.  I cannot take any more people pretending to be me and calling the Wayne Health Substance Abuse.  I’m leaving.  I’m gone.

So tell me about hurt.

BetterWorseBetterWorse

Waking up this morning I felt even a little better because at 3:00 a.m. I dragged myself out of bed and went into the smaller, front bedroom where I could hear any street noises.  There weren’t many because we live in the country but just in case….

As usual, I turned on my computer after coming down stairs and went to my email and lo and behold!  there were two comments to my “Better” blog.  I love to know that people read my blogs even if they don’t agree with them.  Jackie, kudos for your encouragement.

I was appalled at my youngest sisters comment which I did post.  I posted it so that all you supporters can see why I got into the state that I was in.  However, I can only wonder why I keep being surprised and why it does still matter to me what my family thinks of me.  I suppose this is something that will remain with me for the rest of my life and is something that I will have to keep working on to lower the stess.  Sort of what they called at the hospital, “My Safety Plan”.  It certainly would help though if I wasn’t being treated like a kickball by them!

As for the good news…This is the first year I haven’t worried about winter coming.  Do you think my Seasonal Affective Disorder has been pushed aside by what happened?  Please, for those of you with SAD, don’t try this at home!

And for more good news…you would not believe all the good wishes and offers of help and love that I received yesterday when I started to go back to my regular routine.  I do want to thank everyone so much!  Now all of you, and all you meanies, please send money.  I prefer non-counterfit bills, small or large.  LOL

Short for today because I’m back to my appointments (mostly psyche wouldn’t you know) but know I am thinking of all you wonderful people each time I stub my toe.  Thank you.

Being in Control of One of the States of The United States

When I read through newspapers and see what horrible things that happen in the world by disturbed individuals I can understand why advocates wish to remove dangerous weapons from persons who are not trained to use them.  I can understand why people are categorized as to perhaps being dangerous.  However, I cannot understand why someone can be committed without having a trial and jury.  Especially when no harm has been done to themselves or others.  I cannot understand why by the words of others that they can be locked up for an unspecified time other than “up to 15 days and with the permission of two Doctors for more, if they deem necessary.

No one loves life, animals, compassionate people than I.  I am spiritual, intelligent,  strong and only want to be loved yet because I read the advertisement about if you are feeling out of sorts or depressed that you should call the 211 o r 800 “help” line I sunk myself into a hole..  Most people who do not really want help will not call and will go  their way and it seems that most people that do want help will call for help.

My husband and I have had numerous problems during our 42 years  of marriage, mostly involved with alcoholism and my coping with both him and my parents, who suffered from it.  We headed for the other side of the country with my daughter and were away for approximately 35 years.  About 8 years ago we moved back within 5 miles of 3 sisters and my mother so that both my husband and myself could have “family” again.  When I was away I was always jealous of my girlfriends seeing a relative or someone they had gone to school with at a store or public place and hugging and catching up with.

For the first two years things were wonderful here.  Trips with mom, bowling with two sisters, conferences with my older sister.  Then things began to change.  I’m not sure why.  Probably because I knew how it was to be dealt with as a real person and not to have someone control me or to be treated as a teenager.  Maybe they were jealous because I had gotten out of the small town attitude and could not accept the dysfunctions of the family.  I was the circle breaker and no one likes to know that someone else thinks they are doing wrong.  Perhaps because I had had many more experiences than they.

After the first two years things went drastically downhill.  Everyone thought that we had a lot of money, our house was large and although I was told to not take it personally, things were given to the other three and I was started to be ignored both physically and mentally with  Christmas alone (although my sister did ask us), no input in family decisions, and accusations of things that I certainly did not do against the family.  The distance seemed  to widen between the family, and my daughter, husband and I.  The silly thing was that this reminded me why I had run away to begin with!

However, stuck we were.  Economy led to us not being able to sell the house.  Now we have lowered it $20,000 from what we purchased it at.  We felt we needed this house and it was perfect because when we purchased it, the other houses we looked at were a mess, this was large enough to hold my antiques, I had horses and this had enough acreage for them.  It has a wonderful 1800’s barn and the house needed no work.  It is for sale now because we have no horses and we very much need to downsize and who needs to mow lawns the size of 11.5 acres.

Meanwhile, back to the alcoholism.  You may read about that episode in my last post.  I have now turned into a person who peeks out windows when sirens go by and have to answer the telephone each time it rings in case it is the Social Worker making sure I am here being safely guarded by my husband until I move to my sisters.  My therapist calls it posttraumatic stress.  And, my younger sister has decided she is not able to “care” for me since the State has declared me unsafe, my mother has decided that I am the alcoholic.  My youngest sister has not even the concern to call me except to tell me I owe money for missing bowling.  My oldest sister called to tell me she had a new dog and that I deserved all this.  My daughter, I am not talking about.

I have called my family doctor to beg him to call the state to tell them I am sane and he has said that there wasn’t much he could do but he would try.  I have visited my attorney to see if he could do anything but I guess it is a law.  All I can say is that if you just want to talk to someone DO NOT CALL 211!  Go to your mirror and have a conversation with yourself or find a friend.

This is the worst nightmare that I have ever been in, especially when my family believes what the State says over what I am saying.  Again, I have written off the family.  I’m not sure if it would be any use to go to Maine where all my friends and my favorite counselor are at.  She is my next call.

Nightmare on Powers Road

This is not a good post. In fact it has nothing much to do with the joys of life or love or spiritualism. Most faint of heart and those with feelings probably won’t want to read it. But, those that have no consciences or feelings for others will love it so go for it.
On October 5, after making final arrangements, I advised my husband that I was going to take a break from our marriage and move in with my Sister for an uncertain amount of time starting on 1st November. He cried. I love him and he loves me but he is an alcoholic and has abused me verbally for 42 years. He has just now again started to clean up his act but I need to get away. I cannot move in with my Sister until 1st November because she has to clean the house and my Sister and I have not always gotten along. However, she just lost her job so I assumed that it would help both her and I and that he would feel better because I wasn’t moving over 5 miles away and would be closer. October 5 was not a good day and I was feeling terribly guilty and depressed. When I went to bed I told my husband that I was very depressed. He, knowing that I probably didn’t want to talk to him about it, suggested that I try calling one of the 800 support lines that are listed in the telephone book.
So, coming downstairs I did call, was put on hold for 1/2 hour and then a representative talked to me and found out I was depressed. So, he called 911. He asked If I had weapons in the house and I said “no guns, knives in the drawers in the kitchen but nothing else I could think of”. He asked me to put the dogs in a separate room. Whistle, whistle, within 15 minutes two sheriff cars and a state police car pulled up and came to the driveway.
Since I had called after I had gone to bed, they asked if my husband if he would go with me while I got dressed. OK. I thought maybe they were embarrassed. The night shirt DID have a small hole on the rim.   They then put me in cuff links and took me out to the police car and put me into the back seat. They drove me to the nearest hospital and we trooped up to the reception and waited for our names to be called. Remember, this is a very small area. I pulled my sleeves down as far as I could but I was still embarrassed because it was obvious that the policeman was watching over me.
OK, into emergency. I had all sorts of tests run: vitals, EKG, blood tests. By then I asked where my husband was so they did go and get him. By that time, I had repeated what had happened many times and finally a social worker (or Doctor)  came and told me I was going to be admitted to the mental ward. I said “no”. She said I would be arrested if I ran. I said “no”. five nurses came and gave me one heck of a shot. “ouch!!!” Then off I went. Meanwhile my husband had called my daughter who told the social worker that I often threatened suicide and she was worried about me so that finalized the case.  I can only assume that she was afraid for me and wanted me to be safe because both she and my husband have attempted suicide previously.  All my belongings were taken from me and I was given a bedroom and gowns to sleep in (I think – I was pretty out of it).
On October 6 just about every hour there was a program or snack. No cell phones, pencils or anything not squishy to do myself in with. Try to cut ham with your fork and spoon. I take so many pills for my cholesterol, familial tremor, calcium and supplements that it took until two p.m. the next day to straighten them out. When I went into the bathroom someone checked on me about every 3 minutes and while sleeping, nurses did their rounds with flashlights
I must admit that I liked the nurses, the doctor and the assistants but did not like the fact that I was given no information as to how long I was to be there. I had no outdoor privileges and the air was so dry that my nose was bloody.  I was frightened and in shock and as yet, had no diagnosis.
The next day I was sentenced to another day because they didn’t feel that I was “safe” because I had not yet written a “safety plan”.  I cried through dinner and had Tina call my mother to call my attorney (who was a good friend of hers) to get me the heck out of there. There was no result. Tina called my best friend who said he would love to come out from Cal. to help but, of course, I knew his situation which made it impossible. Most of the recreation was watching TV which all my readers know I do not do although I did get to paste words onto a sheet of paper. Reading the paperwork I found that I could be forced to stay there 15 days and then the time extended if two Doctors agreed. I was petrified because of being locked in. I figured if I had wanted to commit suicide that I would have done it. If I didn’t then I would have called the 800 number so I’m very depressed and confused.
On this day we had a 9:00 meeting deciding what we were going to wear for Halloween.  Great. Two of us chose ghosts. For me it was because it was easiest. Treatment teams were to meat today and Thursday with the last names A-L today and the rest Thursday. My Social worker was going to be Jackie. Hopefully I will be fit in today so that I don’t have to wait until Thursday. I visited the book case but couldn’t seem to get into concentrating on readings. My name was called for the treatment team! hooray. Forms galore. The most important paper was the Proactive Safety Plan that we made stating that the Doctor, Patient, Social Worker and Counselor were there and that we agreed on it. A copy of this paper was sent to the County Behavioral Health. This stated that I would be working on not being depressed, worried or about boundaries being placed upon me. I wondered what anyone else in the world was worrying about. I was also to be aware if I was being pushed. Such as being pushed into an institution? Believe me, I was well aware of it already. It stated that I would play with my dogs, call or visit someone if I had problems. Where to go to take my mind off the problems? This was a hard one. At the time I thought putting in my daughter, mother, store and sisters would be best because I really thought that they could help. Debi and Ken…you are the ones I would contact during a crisis although the other night it certainly would not have done much good to contact you. I stated that I was a (F)riend and had no weapons.
Next document was Emergency Information/Safety Numbers as in the ones I had called…HAH!
On my Hospital Problem List was stated depression (hooray, they had one thing right!) and that I was to go to the Behavioral Health Network on 10/10 at 9:00. It was stated that If I did not, the state police and sheriffs office would find me. My primary support to keep me safe were my husband, my daughter and my sister Dawn and that I was to go home with my spouse/sister. It was stated that I was saying I would hang myself out of frustration but would never do it and that I could keep myself safe and that they may call to follow up. I then received my belongings and a flue shot and in shock walked out to the car with my husband.
Errand #1 on the way home was to stop at my Mother’s and tell her thank you for her understanding and for calling my attorney to help get me out of there. She said she did not call the attorney and understood that I had checked myself in because of alcoholism and that my youngest sister had told her that I had called her an alcoholic.  Later she changed this to telling me that I only wanted to get out of there because I wanted a drink.
OK. After that shock I went home and called my older sister and younger sister. seven hours later, my oldest sister has not returned the call. A few hours ago my younger sister called to tell me that she was changing her mind on her offer of me staying with her starting 11/1 because she didn’t think she could care for me.  How nice after I had told my husband which started this whole mess!
So, since that was my “safety plan” I expect the police to come at any moment. I’m really not feeling so safe right now although the more friends I tell this story to, the more friends that I get nice offers from.
Now, I’m exhausted and going to go to my own waterbed with my dogs and try to sleep!
Nite