Tuesday, October 11, 2016

Trump’s Sex Tapes

Trump’s Sex Tapes

I am going to keep this short because as a rape survivor it exasperates my anxiety.

Last week Presidential candidate Donald Trump’s true character was brought to life in the most vial way. A tape was leaked that showcased him speaking about his power over women. He indicated that as a celebrity he can sexually assault a woman by “grabbing her by the pussy.”

He responded by saying it was “locker room banter.” His supporters continue to make excuses saying that it’s normal for men to behave in such a way. It’s not. I have only heard a few men speak in that way, one was my rapist.

My rapist bragged to my roommate that women like to be choked during sex. Hours later, I woke up to him chocking so I couldn’t scream.

This happened to me on my 32nd birthday and has plagued each birthday since. This year I refused to leave my house and answer the phone. For about 48 hours anytime I fell asleep I could only dream of the helplessness I felt.


The media doesn’t seem to want to report that Trump is being legally accused of raping a 13-year-old. I really don’t give a shit about what Hillary or her disgusting husband have done. Nothing can compare to having such disrespect for women and possibly being a child rapist.   

Wednesday, July 6, 2016

Becoming A Hyster-Sister


I have decided to join a special and strong group of woman who have had hysterectomies. My endo decided to rear its ugly head after four years of being somewhat pain-free and regular. The first part of this decision involved social norms and motherhood.

I was brought up in a Christian home where it was silently instilled in me that I would grow up and get married then have children. According to my mom, I would be cursed with a daughter like me. LOL But that is not how my story unfolded. Diagnosed with endometriosis at 21, I was urged to have children way too early. All I could say is NO. I was not married and didn’t have the financial means. As time passed, the doctors urges became louder yet my situation remained the same. It warped my mind. Every guy I dated was instantly inspected for daddy qualities. I am pretty positive that my messed up mindset had a nasty effect on my relationships.

Then I got married…I really thought that we would have a white picket fence life. I was still young enough to conceive and at this point still had one good fallopian tube. Plus, he was open to invitro fertilization or even adoption. But then he got sick. He contracted Lyme disease. At the same time, I was diagnosed with chronic fatigue syndrome (CFS) and fibromyalgia. He was a medical student and after researching Lyme he became very concerned that he would pass it to a child or me. We stopped having sex. We also discussed what it would be like to realistically raise a child. Two sick parents. That sounds like fun huh.

His Lyme made my endo look like a mere inconvenience. His doctors didn’t know if he would get better but chances were he would get worse. He did. He now resides in a wheel chair and is about to embark on brain surgery due to infection and lesions. My endo remained my monster under the bed. I had excision surgery in 2012 and that had helped until recently. But I still had issues with CFS.
I began to look at the situation from my unborn child’s eyes. Even if we had stayed together, dad would be wheel chair bound, in-and-out of the hospital and mom would struggle to get out of bed, walk upright or do anything without the assistance of pain medication. What fun!

So maybe I wasn’t meant to be a mother. That is a really though pill to swallow. But maybe infertility goes hand-in-hand with endometriosis because it is in the best interest of the child. We know there is a genetic component, making it highly likely to be passed down to female children. And, don’t they deserve a mom who has energy and isn’t in pain constantly? I am not saying that this applies to all women with endo or even any other woman other than myself. Situations and support systems vary from woman to woman.


So, step one? Kick my anxiety and depression’s ass. I started on medication about a week ago. I stopped crying nonstop. Then, I am going to find a counselor who specializes in this sort of thing and can mentally prepare me for losing my lady parts. Step 3 Find a doctor in Arizona who is well known and uses excision. Then do it! 

Becoming A Hyster-Sister


I have decided to join a special and strong group of woman who have had hysterectomies. My endo decided to rear its ugly head after four years of being somewhat pain-free and regular. The first part of this decision involved social norms and motherhood.

I was brought up in a Christian home where it was silently instilled in me that I would grow up and get married then have children. According to my mom, I would be cursed with a daughter like me. LOL But that is not how my story unfolded. Diagnosed with endometriosis at 21, I was urged to have children way too early. All I could say is NO. I was not married and didn’t have the financial means. As time passed, the doctors urges became louder yet my situation remained the same. It warped my mind. Every guy I dated was instantly inspected for daddy qualities. I am pretty positive that my messed up mindset had a nasty effect on my relationships.

Then I got married…I really thought that we would have a white picket fence life. I was still young enough to conceive and at this point still had one good fallopian tube. Plus, he was open to invitro fertilization or even adoption. But then he got sick. He contracted Lyme disease. At the same time, I was diagnosed with chronic fatigue syndrome (CFS) and fibromyalgia. He was a medical student and after researching Lyme he became very concerned that he would pass it to a child or me. We stopped having sex. We also discussed what it would be like to realistically raise a child. Two sick parents. That sounds like fun huh.

His Lyme made my endo look like a mere inconvenience. His doctors didn’t know if he would get better but chances were he would get worse. He did. He now resides in a wheel chair and is about to embark on brain surgery due to infection and lesions. My endo remained my monster under the bed. I had excision surgery in 2012 and that had helped until recently. But I still had issues with CFS.
I began to look at the situation from my unborn child’s eyes. Even if we had stayed together, dad would be wheel chair bound, in-and-out of the hospital and mom would struggle to get out of bed, walk upright or do anything without the assistance of pain medication. What fun!

So maybe I wasn’t meant to be a mother. That is a really though pill to swallow. But maybe infertility goes hand-in-hand with endometriosis because it is in the best interest of the child. We know there is a genetic component, making it highly likely to be passed down to female children. And, don’t they deserve a mom who has energy and isn’t in pain constantly? I am not saying that this applies to all women with endo or even any other woman other than myself. Situations and support systems vary from woman to woman.


So, step one? Kick my anxiety and depression’s ass. I started on medication about a week ago. I stopped crying nonstop. Then, I am going to find a counselor who specializes in this sort of thing and can mentally prepare me for losing my lady parts. Step 3 Find a doctor in Arizona who is well known and uses excision. Then do it! 

Thursday, June 23, 2016

My Inner Beast - MY Anxiety and How I am Dealing

I’ve had anxiety for almost half of my life. It started when I was 18. I would have sporadic, sudden panic attacks. They sent me to the floor like a baby. Now, it is like a monster that I battle constantly. The more I have learned about It, and myself, The better I manage it.

Today, I had planned on going to a career fair after submitting a resume to a pharmaceutical company. I have wanted to start a career in pharmaceutical sales for quite some time, but getting your foot in the door is hard. I procrastinated getting business cards made because my current financial situation is just becoming stable. The money I made last night would pay for the cards, plus printing 20 copies of my resume, references and recommendations.

I spent about an hour crafting the cards, I even found a high-resolution head shot so they might remember me later. But the printer would not let me pick them up in the store, and the store could not retrieve my order. So, I picked up a shift at the restaurant.

For whatever reason my anxiety fades for the most part when I am working. I am too busy to worry. Waiting tables or bartending is like being in a play for the millionth time. Occasionally there is some adlibbing, but I rarely hear something, or come into a situation, that is new in any way. The uncertainty is managed. I know what to do, what to say and when.

Sometimes I let my customers get to me. But for the most part I understand that I can’t go back and change anything or force them to tip me more. I simply move on to the next table. I keep my anxiety medication in my pocket, but rarely need to take it at work. Just knowing it is there for me is usually enough.

I am constantly going over potential conversations in my head. It’s really very annoying. But, when a situation arises when I need to think or speak fast, I freeze. If I am speaking with a male or a woman with a strong alpha male personality, it’s even worse.

I know a part of this is confidence. I am my own worst critic, best friend and enemy. I tell myself the meanest things. I wonder if that is so if someone else says them it won’t hurt as bad. I break myself down all the time, every day, every hour for no reason. Overcoming that is hard. I have gotten a little better and tell myself to be nice and am self-aware. I shut those voices down as quickly as possible. I know this will take time.

Sometimes my anxiety gets so bad that I can’t leave the house, sometimes my bed. I’m afraid of people seeing me. Maybe it’s because I’m so anxious that I have let myself become disheveled. Maybe it’s because I don’t want to talk to anyone. I’m worried they might say hi. I have gone without eating and in certain living situations, urinating. It’s absolutely crazy.

I think the agoraphobia kicks in when I am so overwhelmed with anxiety that I just can’t deal with it. So, I try not to let it get that bad. Writing has really helped. Giving these thoughts a new home, so they are no longer bouncing around in my head is cathartic. I can only write a little at a time, but the thoughts I have released are barely coming back to mind. It’s like therapy but we can skip the getting to know you part, and the payment at the end. LOL


I am also trying to get back into Yoga and Pilates. I did a 20 minute class that focused on weight baring for people with carpal tunnel syndrome. I need to practice that one until placing my hands in a certain alignment becomes second nature. Then I did a 10 minute Pilates video. My wrists hurt a little. I plan on doing this every other day and upping the time and energy spent. So that’s my plan. Writing, exercise, vitamins and self-awareness. We shall see if I can cure/treat myself.  

Wednesday, June 15, 2016

Guns in America - Do we need so many? Is it time to change our laws?

A couple of days ago there was yet another mass shooting. This time an Orlando night club, catering to the LGBT and Latino communities. What is even sadder than the 50 people who lost their life due to some asshole with an assault rifle, is that second amendment nuts are only concerned with their “right” to own a gun. I don’t think it should be a fucking right, it should be a privilege for those who can demonstrate responsibility and are cleared of any concern of mental illness. I said it. I am in Texas, so I am literally safer writing it.

I engaged with a friend of a friend and briefly shared my story. I explained that my ex-husband was able to go get a cache of guns without haste. There was no waiting period and he had spent time in a mental ward and was on medication for bipolar people. I asked for more effective regulations that would weed out crazy people and radical fanatics. That sounds pretty easy right? If you don’t have mental illness then you shouldn’t be concerned. For example, I should not own a gun. I am too jumpy and my depression and anxiety doesn’t make me a sound candidate to be a gun owner. I am ok with that.

This guy tells me that I should have had better control over my ex. I just about spit my coffee out. Really? He thinks I knew about and encouraged this purchase? He has never been married and if he is his wife has him by the balls. I explained that I didn’t have knowledge, I did stand up for myself, eventually, I got the guns out of the house, ect. I shouldn’t have to defend myself because someone decided to wake me up with a gun. He never thought to blame the person holding the gun or loose regulations. It was my fault. For what? Going to sleep? Marrying a psychopath?

Then I remembered that there are people out there that are so brain washed and self-centered that they believe their right to hold a gun is more important than my right to life. How can your right to have a weapon that you say you never want to use on another human mean more than my life, or anyone’s life?

What’s even more ironic is the fanaticism we have with guns is due to really good fucking marketing and branding. The gun nuts feel the way they do, not because they really fear an intruder or boogie man. It has been instilled, generation-to-generation that owning a gun makes you a man, it should be your manly “instinct, “according to the WSJ .


So how do we fix it? Speaking with said fanatics is like talking to a child about sugar. They don’t get it. Will they ever?