The Daily Me (Journal) Memories 2 – 01/04/17

Today’s prompt comes from Journaling Your Way Home via Writing Our Way Home, in which Kaspa has asked us to write a memory from the timeline of our life that we wrote Sunday. (Note: this is taken from an e-book which I purchased as part of this e-course. If you’d like to join in, you can purchase the course at the Journaling Your Way Home address above)

No Happy Ever Afters For Me

Shortly after my sister kicked me out of her place in Greensboro, NC in the late Summer of 1985, I returned to Virginia, stayed with my Aunt for a while and got a job at the ice cream store she worked in. There, I met two female missionaries from the Mormon Church. Before long, I started attending, had moved into my own apartment and was doing pretty well for myself. Suddenly, for no reason that I was told, the female missionaries were recalled and two male missionaries showed up. One of them was this tall, linebacker of a guy with dark-hair and sapphire blue eyes. He was very charismatic and I fell head-over-hills for him. His name was David from Modesto CA and like me, he was a convert to the Church. Over the course of six months, we got to know one another well. I even cooked dinner for him and his companion a few times. Sometimes, they would stop by the ice cream store, get my keys and hang out at my apartment while I worked (I know they were watching tv, which was against the rules).

David liked to play practical jokes on people and he played quite a few on me. One night, I came home from work to find sticky notes all over my walls and the inserts from magazines tossed haphazardly around the room (that was his companion’s thing). Another night, I came home and it looked like I had been robbed. Every piece of furniture was gone, except that it wasn’t. I had a very tiny room that I used as my bedroom and they had stuffed every stick of furniture, books, dishes, etc. into that little room. They couldn’t fit the sofa in there so they just propped it up at the door. Another night, I came home to find the inside of my house, down the staircase and the tree outside my apartment building toilet-papered. Sometimes he would call me late at night, just to tell me ‘sorry, wrong number’ repeatedly. I knew it was him. I would recognize his voice anywhere.

But the worst joke he pulled on me was at dinner one night. I had cooked him and his companion a three course meal. Salad; pot roast with potatoes, carrots and peas; and a homemade banana cream pie for desert. I had slaved over all of it all day, especially the pie – supposedly David’s favorite. It was my first time making pie crust and meringue and it had come out perfectly. We’d eaten the meal and I’d put the pie in the fridge and gone to the bathroom. When I came out, BAM! Banana cream pie in the face, followed by laughter, and David and his companion running away. You’d think that I would have hated David, but I didn’t. I only loved him more.

After about six months, word began to spread about David and his companion spending too much time at one woman’s apartment. No, it wasn’t mine. It was a mutual friend of ours. She ran interference for he and I, allowing him to call me on the phone at night and opening her apartment up for us to hang out, supervised. She had no idea he was spending so much time at my apartment and neither of us told her, nor did the companion. Anyway, the Church elders decided to split the two missionaries up and send them to other locations. An elderly couple took their place.

On the night David left, he called me and asked me to marry him. Of course, I said yes. He still had a year to serve as a missionary, but he said he would call his sister back in CA and make arrangements for me to go live with her until his service was up. I told our mutual friend, but she wouldn’t believe me. Then I received a letter from him a week later, expressing the same thing. She finally believed me. The sister thing fell through, but he told me to start making preparations to have a Temple wedding. That meant I had to get baptized in the Church, take the required classes and get a Temple recommendation. I did all of those things for him. Our mutual friend and her two sisters even went with me to the Temple. It was all happening so fast. I’d gotten the Temple recommendation on my first try, went through the Temple and was all set to marry that handsome, charismatic man from California. We talked three times a week by phone and wrote letters nearly every day. I knew he was the one.

David still had five months left of his mission, but he was no longer enjoying it. He stole the mission car, drove all the way to Covington VA from Richmond VA and held up at our mutual friend’s apartment. He called me from there, said he was leaving his mission and going back home. I asked about the wedding and he said we’d have to plan it by phone. I didn’t even get to see him before they sent him back to CA. When he arrived back in CA, he still called me frequently for the first couple of weeks. Then silence. He didn’t call and didn’t return mine. He eventually told our mutual friend that he had left the Church and no longer wanted to marry me. I got the news from her, not him. I was never given any further explanation and never heard from him again.

This was supposed to be my fairy tale wedding, my happy ever after. I couldn’t understand why he didn’t want me. What had I done? I was heart broken and fell into the only comforting arms around – Andy’s. The guy I had dated while living with my sister. Four months later, I was pregnant, married to him and living in Burlington NC. Completely unhappy and definitely no fairy tale. A dark tale, perhaps. But that’s for another memory.

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The Daily Me (Journal) Familiar Memory – 01/03/17

Today’s prompt comes via Writing Our Way Home, as part of the email section of the course Journaling Your Way Home. (Note: If you’d like to join in, you can purchase the course at the Journaling Your Way Home address above to receive both the e-book and the emails)

“Writing is an exploration. You start from nothing and learn as you go.”
~E. L. Doctorow

Start with a familiar memory. Re-enter it. Live it again. Let go into fantasy if you like. Go where the writing takes you.

You know how you can smell something and it takes you back in time to a memory? I did that this morning. I was refiling my humidifier and suddenly smelt salt water. It made no sense. There’s nothing salty about the mist from the humidifier, but there it was anyway. Salt water. My mind instantly drifted back in time to the mid-to-late 90s when I was attending Hollins College and my friend Claire and I would take Spring Break trips to Nags Head. Suddenly, I was there again – walking along the sandy shore, listening to the Ocean breathing, and feeling the cool salt water on my face. I felt her calling me, enticing me to join her, to be one with her. She has that effect on me, lulling me into a state of complete bliss.

I am pulled into her foam-green petticoats, swirling around with her, allowing myself to drift further out and under. I feel the pressure as she gently coaxes me to go deeper and deeper. I want to be with her. To become her. To be inexplicably one with her and never resurface. I don’t worry that I am made of flesh and blood. I am also made of water and can, therefore, become water. I watch as schools of fish swim by. They are as curious of me as I am of them. What is a human doing so deep? Is she out of her mind? Surely she will drown, or perhaps she will adapt. I’d like to adapt, grow my own gills so I never have to leave this place. Then I could not only be one with the Ocean, but also one with the dolphins, whales and sharks.

In the distance, I hear a raven cawing and am lifted from the sea. There is a war going on inside of me. A battle between the call of the Ocean and the call of the Raven. To be deep in the sea, or soaring through the air. I want to be with both, but I know that I cannot. I realize it is my dual nature as part Gemini and part Cancer, a cuspie. To be of Air and Water. In my mind, I return to my mountains feeling wholly unsatisfied and wanting.

The Daily Me (Journal) Memories 1 – 01/02/17

Today’s prompt comes from Journaling Your Way Home via Writing Our Way Home, in which Kaspa has asked us to write a memory from the timeline of our life that we wrote yesterday. (Note: this is taken from an e-book which I purchased as part of this e-course. If you’d like to join in, you can purchase the course at the Journaling Your Way Home address above)

Why’d They Choose Me?

Looking back on my childhood, I’ve often wondered why those three boys back in grade school chose me to sexually harass. What was it about me that made them feel it was okay to do that to me? Did they notice something about me that made me easily accessible to their perversions? Was it even about me? Or were they just seeing what all they could get away with? Twelve-year-olds. I still can’t wrap my head around it.

I do know it made me feel dirty, cheap and insignificant. I also felt like I deserved it. I never reported it at school and I never told my parents. Truthfully, I didn’t want anyone to know. It became my own shameful secret, but it wasn’t just mine. Those three boys told plenty of other students and my three best friends knew because they were there when it began. I was only eleven, nearly twelve. They stole my innocence and childhood from me. No child that young should have to know the disgusting, sexual things I knew. I still don’t even know how those boys knew those things. Probably from porn magazines and/or movies.

It didn’t even stop after grade school. Those three boys harassed me all through high school too. I wanted so desperately to tell my 9th grade English teacher what a nasty son she had, but I never did. Who would have believed me over a school teacher’s son? Years on, the other two became local cops. Can you imagine any young woman feeling safe if they’d know the way those two carried on as teenagers? The school teacher’s son was one of the local potheads, not sure where he ended up after high school. I do know that when one of the other two who’d become cops died last year, he was given a hero’s funeral and people all over the area came to praise him. If they’d only known what I knew.

I know that’s when my psychological problems began. I became a bulimic because I wanted to be thin like all the ‘good’ girls in school, the ones who were fawned over but not sexually harassed. I was no longer the happy-go-lucky kid. I became withdrawn, dark, and couldn’t stand to be around people. I wasn’t suicidal, but I did cut myself often to get rid of the pain I felt inside. I still have scars on my thighs. I didn’t want anyone to see what I’d done, so I hid it away. I hid a lot of things in those years.

That Summer of ’79 only confirmed my suspicions that it must have been something about me. That was the summer that my sister’s then-boyfriend backed me into the alcove behind the staircase at home and molested me. It was 4th of July and it was supposed to have been a fun time with family and friends.

Dad was barbecuing in the backyard, mom was making salads in the kitchen, my sister was outside with family and my brother was upstairs. I remember mom had put on some Elvis music. I went through the hallway from the living room headed toward the kitchen. I got to the doorway of the dining room and got pulled into that alcove. I remember Little Sister was playing and J whispered into my ear, “Big sister does. Does little sister?” I can’t even listen to that song anymore without remembering his hands all over me and his tongue down my throat. I hate to think what might have happened if my brother hadn’t come down the stairs. He let me loose and I fled to the backyard. I never told a soul what he did and he acted like nothing had happened when he joined my sister a few minutes later.

I think the shame I felt in those days led me to be promiscuous later on in my life. I was looking for love and acceptance, and I didn’t care what sleazy guy I ended up with to get them. Of course, I never found either and I only hate myself more because of it. I learned self-loathing at the tender age of twelve and it persisted until about three years ago when I decided to be celibate and start loving myself.

 

The Daily Me (Journal) My Life’s Timeline – 01/01/17

Today’s prompt comes from Journaling Your Way Home via Writing Our Way Home, in which Kaspa has asked us to write a timeline of our life. (Note: this is taken from an e-book which I purchased as part of this e-course. If you’d like to join in, you can purchase the course at the Journaling Your Way Home address above)

My Life’s Timeline

June 20, 1966 – Loretta Anne was born on this day in Covington Virginia

Late April, 1972 – Reye’s Syndrome, coma, near-death. One of two survivors, but unscathed.

Late April, 1972 – By contract, I’Ceen, an Andromedan, walked into Loretta’s body and resumed all of her functions.

1974 – Family moved to Clifton Forge VA

1978 – Sexual harassment by male classmates

Summer 1979 – Molested by sister’s then-boyfriend

Autumn 1979 – Began high school (eighth grade)

1983 – Graduated a year early from high school

Autumn 1983 – Began community college taking Business Management courses

Spring 1984 – Moved out of parents’ house for the first time and in with 3 classmates; began having casual sex

Late Autumn 1984 – Quit college and moved to Covington Virginia, worked at Roses Department store and then Groggins Plastics for a short while

Spring 1985 – Met Andy via my sister (8 years older than me), moved to Greensboro NC, lived with sister and brother-in-law, dated Andy

Late Summer 1985 – got kicked out of sister’s place for being a shameful hussy, her words; moved back to Covington VA; met David, a Mormon missionary; joined the LDS church; prepared myself to marry David the following year when his mission would be over.

Mid-Winter 1986 – David and I broke up; Andy came for a visit; I got pregnant.

Early Spring 1986 – Married Andy and moved to Burlington NC; lost the baby at end of 1st trimester; left him at the end of 7 months (he was abusive); quit attending the LDS church because I was shunned for leaving my husband

November 1986 – moved back to Covington VA, got a job as a receptionist at a Hotel; met Jim; filed for divorce.

January 1987 – Summer 1989 – lived with Jim; divorce finalized; Jim asked me to marry him; worked two-to-three jobs. Began to realize who I really was: a walk-in. It would be another 24 years before I would discover all of it fully.

Summer 1989 – Early Spring 1991 – broke up with Jim (he got cold feet); moved out; began having more casual sex and partying with friends. Began studying Wicca

Mid-Spring 1991 – moved back home to Clifton Forge; got a job at a restaurant; enrolled at the community college

Autumn 1991 – began classes at CC

Spring 1992 – began an affair with a married man named Mike; got pregnant; had a miscarriage when I found out he’d been cheating on not only his wife with me, but on both of us with another woman (couldn’t eat or sleep, became ill and lost baby). That miscarriage caused me to become sterile.

Autumn 1992 – Met Jaime, became fast friends; met Dameon at the Fall’s Festival and began dating him; he moved in with me in November of that year.

Spring 1993 – Discovered Dameon was cheating on me; kicked him out; moved in with Jaime; we became lovers; graduated from CC.

Autumn 1993 – Summer 1997 – Went to Hollins College; began going by the name Lori instead of Loretta; met Claire (my Reiki Master); worked part-time at a convenience store;  met ‘the name that shall not be spoken’ and had a six month fling; still lived with Jaime (we were mostly companions by this time); graduated with a BA in English in 1995, MALS in 1997

Autumn 1997 – Broke up completely with Jaime (we remained friends though until I moved to OK in 2005); moved to Roanoke VA; still going to Hollins University, taking a CAS in Creative Writing

Winter 1997 – Winter 1998 – had casual sex with multiple partners, both male and female; began studying Buddhism

Winter 1998 – Met John; he moved in

Spring 1999 – finished CAS only to learn that I would not get my certificate due to financial issues at the college, nor my other transcripts; kicked out John; began working at Allstate

1999 – December 2000 – lots of casual sex; worked at Allstate; had first nervous breakdown in October; put on antidepressants and anxiety meds.

January 2001 – October 2001 – Met the estranged one online; met in person in April; he moved in in June; I quit work at Allstate due to mental state; he and I married in October.

November 2001 – April 2005 – Went to work at convenience store and did secretarial work for a car salesman; rocky start to marriage (he drank a lot); agreed to move to Oklahoma with him

April 2005 – 2008 – lived in OK with estranged one; didn’t work; stayed home, miserable and homesick

2008 -2009  – estranged one came off the road (he was a truck driver) due to an accident; got my first job since moving there at a smoke shop; had casual sex with a few customers; met Tanya online

Autumn 2009 – Tanya moved down from Canada to be with me; big fight with the estranged one; moved out with Tanya for 6 months

Late Spring 2010 – Lost job at smoke shop because of mental illness; lost house with Tanya; moved back in with the estranged one

June 20, 2010 – Tanya went back to Canada; suicide attempt and hospitalized on June 26th

Autumn 2010 – 2012 – series of suicide attempts (7 in all); hospitalizations; diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder, Bipolar Disorder, Social Anxiety Disorder and severe OCD; moved out and in with Carol (met at mental hospital) three separate times; had a fling with a married man while living with Carol; finally moved back in with the estranged one in March 2012. In 2011, I was contacted by an Andromedan named Fulsan who began my education on who I truly am and why I am here.

October 2012 – March 2013 – diagnosed with uterine cancer, surgery and round of chemo

Late March 2013 – final suicide attempt and hospitalization in OK.

October 2014 – left the estranged one and Oklahoma; moved back to Virginia and in with Dad and brother.

Late 2014 to Present – still living with Dad and brother; celibate; nervous breakdown in June 2016 and hospitalized; found out the estranged one is transgender; giving him my full support; spend time writing; still in contact with Fulsan.

And there you go, dear readers. The. Most. Honest timeline of my life that I have ever done, filled with all of my shameful deeds. I think I need a good stiff drink now. It’s a shame it is so early in the morning. Some of these will be flushed out with other exercises from this course.

 

 

 

 

 

The Daily Me (Journal) A Different Life – 12/31/16

Today’s prompt comes from 100 Inspirational Journal Prompts by Melissa Bolton @ The Mogul Mom

How would your life be different if you felt comfortable being yourself at all times?

I would probably be living in Maine already, surrounded by cats and a published author. I allowed far too many people to tell me what I should or should not have done. And like an idiot, I listened because I thought they had my best interest at heart, but instead, they were just being incredibly selfish.

It hasn’t been all bad though. I’ve had brief periods of my life where I was in complete control and was comfortable being me. I just wish I had been vigilant and focused throughout my life and hadn’t paid attention to others’ influences. I allowed the words of the naysayers to cloud my own judgement. And once mental illness began to manifest, I allowed it to consume me as well.

I think I would have had a pretty idyllic life if I’d been completely comfortable being myself. I knew what my end game was at an early age – get a PhD, teach college, and write. I almost made it.

The Daily Me (Journal) Judgement II – 12/30/16

Today’s prompt comes from 100 Inspirational Journal Prompts by Melissa Bolton @ The Mogul Mom

What characteristics do you judge the most harshly in yourself?

Oh goodness, where to start? I probably have more bad characteristics than good ones.

One that I judge myself harshly over is my ‘supposed’ selfish nature. I don’t mean to be a ‘me first’ person, but I know I come across as such. You see, it is not intentional. I get hyper-focused on whatever I am doing to the exclusion of everything around me (remember dear Tarot cautioned me about that just a day or so ago) and when I get that focused, I tend to forget about family and friends and other commitments I may have made. This makes me look like a selfish jerk and I get called that (and worse) quite often.

Another one that I judge harshly about myself is my forgetfulness. I really do have memory issues and if I forget to write myself notes, I will forget to do things. This usually ends up disappointing someone and they get upset with me and I, in turn, get upset with myself. Vicious, nasty cycle.

I can also come across as haughty and snobbish, even though I don’t mean to act that way. I just live in my head a lot and cherish the intellect. All else seems rather tedious and boring to me. But when people point out those characteristics to me, I berate myself and tell myself to act like the average people more often. It is exhausting.

And finally, I judge myself most critically for procrastinating. It sucks the marrow from my bones and causes me a lot of stress because I suffer from OCD and putting things off is just not productive for me. And yet, I do it to the point of driving myself mad.

The Daily Me (Journal) Judgement – 12/29/16

Today’s prompt comes from 100 Inspirational Journal Prompts by Melissa Bolton @ The Mogul Mom

What characteristics do you judge the most harshly in others?

I’d love to be able to say that I don’t judge others, but it would be a bold-faced lie. It’s not that I go out to deliberately judge others, but there are just some things that I find vulgar and repulsive and they do force me to judge others over it.

Since I am mostly a serious person, I detest people who act childish all the time. A bit of childishness once in a while is fine, but never taking responsibility and being constantly childish, rubs me the wrong way.

I don’t like people who are crass. It’s not that they can’t be sensitive to others, it’s that they don’t want to be. They are deliberately distasteful, tactless and witless, like wearing a badge of honor to see how cruel and demeaning they can be.

I cannot abide by people who are disrespectful, inconsiderate, and intolerant. These characteristics usually go hand-in-hand and are usually shown toward people of color, the LGBTQ  and women by bigots, misogynists and racists.

Small-thinking, narrow-mindedness and exclusivity are other traits that I find repulsive. I just want to shake people who show these characteristics and expand their minds. Not everyone has to live in their little selfish bubbles.

 

 

The Daily Me (Journal) Favorite Song – 12/28/16

Today’s prompt comes from 100 Inspirational Journal Prompts by Melissa Bolton @ The Mogul Mom

What’s your favorite song and why?

Nothing Compares 2 U by Prince is my favorite song. There was a time when it held profound meaning for me. I’d lost my sense of self and an intriguing man came into my life and helped me find it again. Like me, he loved Prince’s music and we would sit for hours smoking weed, drinking tequila and listening to Prince. Our favorite song at the time was Kiss, but when this guy left my life, Nothing Compares 2 U became more significant to me.

Nothing Compares 2 U by Prince w/Rosie Gaines

It’s been seven hours and thirteen days
Since you took your love away
I go out every night and sleep all day
Since you took your love away

Since you’ve been gone I can do whatever I want
I can see who ever I choose
Eat my dinner in a fancy restaurant, oh yeah
But nothing, nothing can take away these blues

Nothing compares, nothing compares to you
Oh baby

It’s been so lonely without you here
I’m like a bird without a song
Nothing can stop this lonely rain from falling
Tell me baby, where did I go wrong?

Oh baby
I can put my arms around every boy I see, oh yeah
But they only remind me of you

All my dames remind me of you too girl, oh yeah

I went to the doctor, guess what he told me
What’d he tell you?

Guess what he told me
I’m listening

He said, Rosie
What?

Try to have fun no matter what you do
You want to tell me why?

He’s a fool

Nothing compares (no), nothing compares to you

Oh, baby
Hu, hu, tenor man, play it for me

All the flowers that you planted, sugar
In the backyard all died when you went away

Oh baby, I know that living with me baby
Is sometimes hard, sometimes hard
But I’m willing, I’m willing to give it one more try

One more try
Please do you know why, do you know why

Nothing compares (no), nothing compares to you

Oh, baby
Every time I say

Nothing compares (no), nothing compares to you

Rosie Gaines

Written by Prince Rogers Nelson • Copyright © Peermusic Publishing, Universal Music Publishing Group

The Daily Me (Journal) Proudest Moment – 12/27/16

Today’s prompt comes from 100 Inspirational Journal Prompts by Melissa Bolton @ The Mogul Mom

Your proudest moment.

My proudest moment was receiving the acceptance letter from Hollins College (now Hollins University) back in 1993. I’d just finished two years at a local community college for my AAS in General Studies and had been told months prior by my guidance counselor that I would never be accepted at that college. He gave me all kinds of excuses – I was too old (25), my 3.6 gpa wasn’t high enough, and I couldn’t afford it. Luckily for me, Hollins had an adult program called Horizon and I received a scholarship from that program because my gpa was high enough, especially in the courses that counted.

A little back-story. I went to this same community college when I was 18 and took Business Management classes. I hated them and I mostly made Bs. I dropped out during my third semester. I didn’t go back to college until seven years later. This time I had bigger goals. I was determined to get excellent grades and accepted into Hollins College. If my gpa had only reflected the courses I took under General Studies, I would have had a 4.0 and that is the exact thinking of the people in the Horizon program. They accepted all of my General Studies courses, but rejected 75% of my Business Management classes. This brought my gpa up to 3.8, which I maintained throughout my time at Hollins.

For those who don’t know, Hollins is a private women’s college in Roanoke Virginia. It has an excellent writing program (the MFA is co-ed) and has had some great writers graduate from there – Annie Dillard, Henry Taylor, and Natasha Trethewey, just to name a few. And the professors are great too – Richard Dillard, Eric Trethewey, and Jeanne Larsen were my favorites. Yes, Richard was once married to Annie and Natasha is Eric’s daughter. I’d read Annie Dillard’s Pilgrim at Tinker Creek and Jeanne Larsen’s Silk Road before I even attended Hollins and they were the driving force behind why I wanted to go there.

I am so thankful that I didn’t allow that guidance counselor to dissuade me from applying there. I took the acceptance letter to his office and laughed in his face.

The Daily Me (Journal) Dream Home – 12/23/16

Today’s prompt comes from 100 Inspirational Journal Prompts by Melissa Bolton @ The Mogul Mom

Describe your dream home.

I doubt it would be a surprise to my regular readers (and I think I’ve discussed this before), but my dream home is a cottage-like little house somewhere on the coast of Maine. The largest room would have to be the kitchen. Spacious with lots of cabinets, a centered work station with a large wood block. Stainless steel sink, stove and fridge. The next largest room would be the studio. It would be for my writing and art, large windows to let the light in, and with a loft-slopping ceiling, covering the entire second level. A modest-sized bedroom with lots of closet space. A living room with ceiling-to-floor built-in shelves on two walls, a nice fireplace, and a patio door leading out to a lovely screened-in porch where I could also have lots of plants. There would also be a nice garden out back for flowers and vegetables, and surrounded by pine, spruce and maple trees.