This room in my house.
itsatruestory
 Has had some very strange memories in it, It started to all flood in when I remembered when it was my dads man cave, he had a cork-board on the back of the door and the one peice of paper to never change on that board was a photo of Tom Selleck. I ask myself, why Selleck?  Other than he was cool in the 80's would dad have Selleck's portrait on the back of the door where he would stay to get away from his family life. Why not a pin up? Was it because he was unable to grow a mustache?
 As I was asking myself about Tom, I remembered its the room I saw my half sisters boobs in when I was 4, seeing my dad accidentally once as he got out of the shower,also... when I was 4 and by then traumatized. 
  It is also where I had my first sip of Coca Cola.

Later when I turned 18 and had met and was living with my other half, we lived in that room.  Just very odd memories from the room in the back of the house.



Repressed Memorys
itsatruestory
 I guess its just a weird year, I have so much happening in my current life I havent had time to write.
 But I had some repressed memorys reoccur the other day.
I remembered the day I first tasted cauliflower, I was two years old ... really little had to be one or two i couldnt walk well yet or really chew the vegges.
Among all the things i remembered about that day I remembered that, my mom was sitting there holding a Coors can (I remember reading the label but not knowing what coors was and to my moms testimony she would never have done this, but shes a liar) I took the can out of her hand while i was trying to get up in her lap, and drank it like it was soda, and she yanked it out of my hand and all their conversation stopped my dad was embarassed and mom yelled at me that it wasnt for me. I rememeber being confused and the taste of beer.

I am fairly shocked that I had my first beer that young... and could read.


Letters From Famous Tragedys that I get.
itsatruestory
Excerpted from:
http://www.susanatkins.org/6-Myth.html




"Psychologists sometimes speak of
sociopaths. Sociopaths, if they really exist, are defined as people who
don’t understand that other people are people. That is to say they don’t really understand on an
emotional level that you and I have the same needs and wants that they do.
They may understand that you and I are people on an intellectual level
– in fact that is usually the source of a great deal of their ability
to manipulate others – but this intellectual understanding
doesn’t effect them. Most of us couldn’t steal candy from a baby.
Most of us couldn’t call someone up and tell them their child had been
harmed. We understand what an emotional trauma that would be and we associate
with it so closely that it would cause us incredible emotional pain to put
another through that. According to psychologists, a sociopath wouldn’t
make that association."


Also A letter Written by Chalkins to Jim Jones. Quoted here. http://www.rickross.com/reference/jonestown/jonestown61.html

"I left because I am no longer willing to live in a situation of anxiety or bi-weekly crisis ... for several reasons: 1) my nerves just won't take it any more, I'm too beat, 2) it is impossible to build anything in that sort of atmosphere because building requires lots of planning and continuity of effort and application - the continuity is destroyed by the crisis mentality, 3) because I feel that the crisis environment is to some extent created and maintained by your state of mind ... I think you suffer from a lack of balance, both of perspective and behavior. I detest being lied to and manipulated. You have, over the years, done a lot of both.."


Y2K
itsatruestory
 It's the reason why I describe my mother like Dale Gribble with menopause.
  She bought hundreds of pounds of, grains, beans, sugar, flour.. a 40lbs bucket of honey I mean she spent thousands of dollars on this stuff. She thought trash cans were the perfect storage containers, so we had about 13 cans in the front yard full of this grain, which turned into silage by the time it was finally removed in '06.  Hardly any of the stuff got used. She also tried to buy solar panels and those got returned on her.
 I went to so many preparedness classes, Revelation bible studies, and uber vegan seminars in '99 it is not even funny.
 
 The y2k thing just gave her an excuse to manifest a broiling interest in the end of time.   As a child my grandmother and mom would tell us kids to read our bible because someday we wont be able too, people like the Nazis will come take them away.  I was about 5 or 6 when I had my first Post Traumatic Stress Disorder manifestation. It took 6 months for me to stop panicking on a daily basis about the Nazi's stealing my bible. After that event it became steadily worse and I still deal with this Panic Disorder.

 On new years night we stayed home, and we watched the town to watch the grid go out one by one. By 12:30 Jan 1 2000 I was very very pissed off because I missed the millennium celebrations.

 I will say this again, Art Bell was one of the worst things to happen to me in my early teen years. So many subsequent panic attacks about, government pulsing out the radio station, Area 51 and the Mayan Calender theory's it was just as bad as being forced to listen to Dr. Laura in the daytime.
 She truly believed that homeschooling was the way to go to A) keep the government out of your affairs and B) when the year 2000 hit she wanted us to be at home safe.  

 The way it effected my life as a teen was this, I became a super vegan from ages 13-19, and studied herbs a hell of a lot more than anything else because I couldn't teach myself math at home anyway, and it guided my interest into foraging for useful plants all around you.
 

And it totally made me hate all talk radio except NPR.

 Yes, Its a true story.


I got to thinking about my first exposure to Michael Jackson.
itsatruestory
Its been a couple weeks since he died and It only just came up yesterday.
 I was about 5 or 6. My parents had taken us kids to a honky tonk country bar why I don't know because they weren't dancing.. but I did, I was two stepping and doing the Achy Breaky with everyone else.. weird.. right? I don't remember any of my family dancing that night except me because I caught on fast to line dancing and stuff.  And I couldn't remember how to Achy Breaky If I tried.

 ANYWAY tangent aside.  The announcer said that someone named Kathleen was going to dance.  And they dimmed the lights just so, and there is this person, Kathleen in the middle of the dance floor with disco lighting all around bouncing off the walls.  I was seeing my first full transsexual for the first time, here was this very angular woman that who didn't feel like a woman at all posing and beginning to dance to THRILLER. They had the little tv's in the room playing the actual music video and Kathleen was doing his/her thing. I could not as a child make sense as to how someone changes their sex in the first place, and the story to this Kathleen was, her former self Johnny was a depressed druggie and hated himself and thought he was in the wrong gender, and sorely regretted his sex change after it was all said and done (as my mother had told it to me anyway).
 So, As i was seeing this man/woman experience for the first time I was also seeing a very plastic surgeon enhanced version of Michael Jackson right in front of me before the real Michael was white. And yes it gave me chills.
 But it changed my whole perspective on MJ as a preformer like... I never had an awe for the guy or star struck-ness for MJ, Only Transsexuals, because Kathleen/Johnny was there in front of me first, and was way more magnetic and caught in the masculine/feminine androgyny than MJ was. It felt almost like MJ was a copy of my first transsexual sighting.
 It was a very impressive memory.

It's a true damn story.


A painted picture of a homeschoolers experience.
itsatruestory
 I was at home ALL the time. I lived 6 miles away from town 1500 feet in elevation, on a bigish spot of property owned by my family. My grandparents house was in the middle of the one road out of the property. When i was a teenager, and thoughts of running away took hold, there was no possible way that could happen without walking behind or in front of their house, and risk being seen by the neighbors.
 That little set up will make you completely aware of how important the television was in my life my link to something else. It was like prison fights over changing channels (I hit my sister once with a plastic hangar and broke it on her thigh) me against my sister, against my mom. Most of the time mom was asleep so at least it made less of a difference. 
 Apparently moms little workers (Her philosophy was that you have children to do things for you, and that is a paraphrased quote) weren't meeting the quota. We weren't doing our homework... which was next to impossible if you factor in that we were our own teachers (Hey, I have a really high reading comprehension, High Vocabulary, and am fairly well read at least, but math???? Pfha). Nor were we doing the chores (Which was cooking and cleaning of all rooms in the house). So she did what a mother could only do in that situation was take the TV Cord and snip off the plug, and get a replacement plug so that you can take it off and hide it from your children. Often she would forget where she would put it.  Only once did my sister and I revolt and take the initiative and buy our own plug but my sister took control of it and eventually lost it to mom. So she had both.  It was like finding gold if we came across it in her purse... or stole it while she was asleep and returned it before she woke up...
 It was total isolation. Nothing of the outside world other than Church, History, Music (my dad left his vinyl records at home when he took off, and I was raised by the best bands the 60's and early 70's the record chest had to offer), Chores, Groceries Shopping (us two girls did that too alone), and The Grandparents.

 Needless to say, I still love Classic Rock its what feeds my soul. Now I am heavily into blues at this stage as well, really its all about poignant lyrics. BUT ANYWAY.

 This reminds me of my moms other television fetishes which stem from her listening to ART BELL late at night. She for a very long while with her Second coming predictions and Y2K bullshit she added, unplugging and covering up the television so that the cia and fbi couldnt watch us on the microchips in the television.  The tv was purchased in 1994, i HIGHLY doubt that there is a chip in the fracking thing, not just the chip but the government in your tv? She also believed they would throw electric fireballs at you through your television.
  Its a true story.

She is my female Dale Gribble/Rusty Shackleford on menopause + Anna Nichole overdoses.
 



When I love you Mom was Omitted.
itsatruestory
 I was about 4 or 5 years old, I noticed that the longer I waited to tell my mom I loved her, the bigger her smile was and "thank you honey, I love you too!!" Was a bigger nicer one.    So I had contests with myself to see how long i could go without telling her I loved her... during one of these times I noticed that she didn't notice that I wasn't telling her I love you mom.


 So then I realized something was wrong with my mom. 

 Shortly after dad left, right before my 9th birthday I realized that my sister and mother were closer than I could ever hope to be, and slowly but surely I was becoming the second class citizen of the household. Mom would sleep most days away and us kids were left to do our own homework (we were home schooled, it was totally self taught) and housework
 and grocery shopping (mom would write a blank check and we would fill in the total.)
My sister became my substitute mother for that I will always love her for in a way because she did help take care of me sometimes.
 Most of the time though I was degraded and left to sleep on the floor besides my mom and sisters bed (they slept in my moms queen bed that her and dad used to sleep in.) And it was summertime, and there were billions of fleas. Or my sister was abusing my trust by making me "try" the food in the frig to see if it was rotten yet... and it was.

Now at this point in my life I am working HARD to take care of the whole family while still getting treated like a second class citizen. I want Grandma and Grandpa to die as they please in their home, I want my mom taken care of for retirement, even though she chose to not build her own nest egg by refusing to work and live off my Grandparents,  I want my sister to be happy and I want her to be happy without hurting other people to do it.. And Above all I want to keep the property that my Grandpas mother and himself worked so hard to save.

 Ive had enough of being treated like I don't deserve base human needs.

This post isn't funny, But .....

Its a True Story




My life with substance abuse.
itsatruestory
 Substance abuse is a family tradition at home. Its not even sad anymore. No really, a lot of funny things have happened. Well funny to me, for instance. My grandmother was and is the pill queen. She is in a lot of physical pain and i don't blame her for having the prescriptions she has for as long as shes had them, but let me tell ya folks, nececessary or not opiates and benzodiazipene accidental overdoses happen. They really mess with your memory! Not to mention the other drugs she took through the 30's-60s that they dont prescribe anymore. Mom therefore used to take her mothers medications. And my father, well his dad was a dermatologist and his 14 year old son had acne and it was embarrassing for him to have a son with skin issues. (and this is told from dad's perspective)  My dad did not have a close relationship with his dad, and to have his dad want to touch his face was not in his plans. So his dad literally shot him up with his first morphine hit. So he was in and out of the recovery programs from my earliest memory. Both of my parents were started on perscriptions first, so let me set this straight, I do not believe Cannabis is a gateway drug. Parents are Gateway dealers.

On a more personal level, my experience with drugs went like this. It started with a dose of dimetapp to get us little girls to sleep. Then when I was 6 I got taught how to make my mom her Sanka coffee, and she had me taste test it so would know if it was made right to her standards. I loved it right away, and by age 11 I was drinking 20 ounce Folgers instant coffee thick as pudding as many tablespoons as i could stand which was like 3. I decided I wanted to experience  summer camp and worked my way there, it cost 300$ to go. My family didn't just send me, i had to earn it.  By the time I earned my way there for a week, I was completely addicted to caffeine. I thought it helped me keep up with the other kids and be funnier, but really i was just a little tweak-er.  I will get into the other drug experiences later for there are many and i need to

More recently,  back to my family my grandma was taking one more soma than she needed and got caught doing it, my mom tried to remove it from her mouth with her fingers and grandma bit mom, then my mom turned around and bit my grandma on the jowl. 

This is a true story.


When I was 4 or 5
itsatruestory
I had terrible teeth. Some how both of my top first premolar teeth got rotten to the point of abscessing.  I remember being in a lot of pain, and getting told to take molds of my mouth all of the time. Then there was the day they actually had me come in for surgery.  My dentist was someone from the church I was raised in, naturally that means he knows what he's doing.... right?

 I remember never getting antibiotics before he went to work on my mouth, and being shot up with so much novacaine that I could have o.d.'d on that alone. So much pain and crying, they had that rubber thing clamped to my teeth to catch the blood from the root canal. It smelled like shit and I was scared and hurt. Apparently its mandatory to give antibiotics to a patient who is already fighting infection... I guess common sense isn't part of the bar exam for dentists.
 After that first surgery and how badly it went, my mom took me to another dentist, and he was a lot better.  He had scented laughing gas, strawberry, orange, and chocolate.  That was the first time I ever got high and it was fantastic.
 I ended up with brass caps on both 1st premolar's.

 A few years later when my teeth were starting to come out like kids teeth do, I was chewing on laffy taffy and out came the whole rotten capped tooth. I was so freaked out that i threw it in the trash. I remember right where  I was, we were down at the AA meetings where my parents were going.
 My sister and I ran around with the kids there. And one of those kids is very very much a part of me. I have just started to speak to him again, and I don't think I told him that he is a part of who I am. I just said he means a lot.
 But that friendship and the reasons my parents  were at AA in the first place are a whole 'nother entry.

I was telling the story about my abscesses to a friend this afternoon, and it occured to me... I have been in the hospital with ecoli and my mom stated that I didn't complain about the pain I was in, maybe it has something to do with this early tooth disaster I had.  I have a hard time telling people when I am in serious pain and a lot of times it goes unnoticed.
 That's today's True story and the first entrie. If your reading this and wonder if most of my stories are horrible, the answer is yes, but also most of the time very ironic and hilarious and I myself love to laugh at them.

 I hope further entries will show how humor can really save ones ass.


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