Triggers and Facebook

What is it with people posting and others responding with the feeling they can bully someone for posting on their own wall?Earlier this week I experienced bullying myself and it triggered me because I hate derogatory comments and flame wars not to mention the social broadcasting of a family death over Facebook without even notifying me privately.

Social media has really desensitized people, in my opinion. No longer do I see any consideration of what a person may feel, its just put out there with no regard for anyone but the person on the other end of the computer, who seems to take pride in hoping to encourage an argument where everyone can see and contribute to or cast stones and judgment.

So how does one get through this? Most of the time I either scroll past it on my timeline, or if the person is seen as a constant s***t disturber, then I simply remove them. Drama lama’s take up too much space. My mental health needs as much calm and peace as I can arrange.

I’ve taken to my treadmill daily, I find it helps to focus on the endorphins while I am watching a comedy on Crave or Netflix. If anyone is looking for a fantastic British comedy, check Absolutely Fabulous. It has really gotten me through some stressful moments as of late. Plus, it makes my work outs go amazingly fast LOL!

Well this weekend is going to be hot, hot, hot, so I am going to be in my air conditioned home, making sure to use my treadmill and spending time with my pets. One of my favorite events is on tomorrow, horse racing – The Belmont, I’m curious to see if American Pharoah will attain the elusive Triple Crown, not achieved since 1978 when Secretariat won it.

In the mean time, be kind to one another – perhaps think before you speak, you may not realize how you affect the person on the otherside of the computer screen.

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Digging in the Deep

You took away the emotions I craved. You gave me little to believe in. My heart felt starved and abandoned that I struggle every day to not believe everyone who comes into my life will do as you did.

The anger and rage are deep, at times not even thought of…. until a situation comes up and the reality that someone else has lived what I have.

I grew up too fast, I was forced to. A young girl of 7 years old, a father who passed away. No funeral where we were allowed to attend, no closure given. We couldn’t speak of him if we had any questions. You expected us to move on, just as you had.  I remember owning a doll, Thumbelina, she became my friend, as was Snoopy. To this day, anything to do with Snoopy or the Peanuts gang, I smile at fondly,they help me to get through my worst days. Especially the ones where I hid under the bed, or behind my dresser. Avoiding the belt or wooden spoon.  Barbies are not something I remember having. The neighborhood we lived in, one of 3, the ones where we could play kick the can, hide and go seek, or swing on a swing set, we moved from, no longer did I have that little bit of childhood. Sleep overs, I don’t remember, I was too shy to think someone would want to. I was too scared you’d say no.

My anger runs deep within my veins. I fight it every day, I’m tired of having it run my life. For causing bad decisions, for hurting people instead of loving them, for keeping people at arms length, so they couldn’t hurt me.

My whole life, I’ve tried to get you to see me. To realize I exist. To the anorexia and bulimia, to the food scale, weight scale and endless exercising in my room. Quiet, so no one could hear me.   Now I fight the shoving of emotions back down, so I don’t feel them. Only now I do it with eating, I eat the moment I feel stressed, or I feel any emotion that is uncomfortable. The cycle doesn’t stop, neither does the anger.

You said it was their fault, that they wouldn’t let him die, that they lived in the past. To me they allowed me to be a child, to play and not think of grown up duties. No meals I was expected to make, no expectations to watch over anyone.  We fought you and I. Yet, I remember. I remember the letter you wrote me when I was 12, asking for the happy girl you remembered.  Meanwhile I was asking myself, where did you go?

At one point you came to me and my sister asking what we thought of you marrying. I said that it was for the best, I didn’t want you alone. You don’t know I cried in the bathroom stall, afraid I’d be forgotten, you no longer needed me. Yet for 7 years, I was your right hand, I did it all and then in a blink it was gone, the expectation was I was to go back to being a child. I had no idea how to do that.

Our lives changed dramatically when you married. No longer were we 3, no longer a family of origin.

I feared so many things, when we fought. Many times I turned to my grandmother, she was my rock. She held me together, when I knew you wouldn’t.  I called from our garage, desperately screaming. Her voice always calmed me.  I have never forgotten the fight I had with my sister. I’m not proud I pushed her down two stairs. However, I did not deserve to be pinned by your husband and you watching saying “I deserved it”. I felt abandoned and confused. Who does that? I wanted to believe that no matter what happened, you would always be there, but you weren’t.  More anger and resentment grew inside me.

As an adult, I have blips of moments of memory. Not all bad, but unfortunately, the bad outweighs the good. I remember coming home from being out with friends, drinking and drunk. You kicked me out of our home an 18 year old teen, rebellious and mad. You gave me “the speech” and then told me I was to move out and once moved out, I was never to return. Yet, my sibling had different rules; she always did have different rules.  Never on equal ground, she and I. She grew to be the accepted one, always accepted, always forgiven.

I lived a life of domestic violence, verbal, physical, sexual, emotional, and mental abuse. I know the life of an alcoholic and overcoming and walking away from that. No, not I, I lived the life of a binge drinker until one day I blacked out, bruising my cheek and jaw, an x-ray was my wake up call.

I remember my wedding, where bets were made on how long I would be married. My step father said 6 months. I felt embarrassed and insulted. You never liked my step children, you thought they were crass. Yet, to this day, each of them in their own way are still in my life, forever grateful am I. My ex a friend where he was in the beginning, not that I can say that for you or my family.

My nephews know so little of me. Yet, I have chosen to believe they will ask for me when they are ready. I am restricted to Facebook status updates and photographs.  The belief is my mental illness is “contagious” and I guess it is, through genetics.

I realized today, I am still stuck to you by a root; a root that connects me to you. That root holds me to my past with you.  A little girl comes flying out in rage, especially if she feels for one moment that she has been forgotten, ignored, and abandoned. I have told her it is up to me now to look after her, to show her what she didn’t get. If I could only catch when she comes out, she is sneaky that way.

I have a diagnosis now. No longer an inconvenience or “pain in the ass”.  Being Bipolar 2 as well as Borderline Personality Disorder, means there is a start. A start in learning who I am, no longer made fun of, or inappropriately commented that I was miserable or “did you take your meds”.  To inappropriate comments of my physical appearance upon entering a hot tub. The comments to this day, make me feel so uncomfortable, I don’t enter a hot tub.

I no longer ask why. I no longer yearn to have you in my life. I no longer sit by the phone, wishing it would ring, you would be on the other side, asking how I am. I no longer cry when I see postings that there is a  family get together, no asking to be included, no asking if I had time to stop in. I am skeptical now, skeptical that any sign of concern from you, there is an ulterior motive. A gossip of my life shared without my consent. We were the house where on the outside, you would never think there was anything wrong, but inside the chaos and insanity raged on.  I’ve never forgotten your neighbor not realizing you had another child; let alone no photos of me in your home; only those of my sister in various stages of her life.

I remember my first and only time of staying in the hospital for my mental breakdown. I remember you being called to come and speak to the medical team. You left shortly there after, claiming you weren’t going to be blamed for my being there, that you loved me, but didn’t like me. I stayed on the ward longer as a result of that. I have done years upon years of  therapy, group therapy, psychiatry as a means to figuring out why my brain wouldn’t retain anything I had learned in therapy. You never came when there was a “family day”. Yet my close friend did and so did my former spouse. But the only one I really wanted was you and my sister, but I was let down, yet again.

I’ve learned resilience and perseverance; I had to, I had to learn what the “system” offered when I had no where to go. Each time I left an abusive relationship, I learned about support and help from people who are trained to help.  I spent 6 to 8 weeks in a women’s shelter. Scared and ashamed I quickly learned, that there are good people who really wanted to help me get back on my feet. No questions asked, no expectations demanded, just those who truly understood what I had lived through.

When I moved back here, you were surprised. Not a comment of happiness, a comment of expectation I would have stayed where I was, because I always liked it there. Imagine how I felt when you said that.  The next time I heard from you was when I had my settlement, suddenly you wanted to know everything about how that came to be. Yet, me in my desperation wanting to feel a mother/daughter connection, desperate to feel love from you. I told you how everything went. When I found my now home, you again showed interest, you even went so far as to suggest who to do my renovations. I knew in my gut this was a mistake, yet, again I wanted to feel the connection of a mother and daughter; so I said yes. The regret of the reality of why it was offered, stings to this day.

I find it ironic that as members of family have become ill or passed away, you seek me out for information on them. Yet, as a child, you tried to keep me from them.  Why is that?

I could ask why the mementos you said you wanted to send to me months ago, have never arrived, but why bother? I don’t believe I will hear the real reason, perhaps another tale.

Purging is very hard work, and my hope is I will release this knot in my stomach that has surfaced. My other wish is someday I will remember what true emotions for those not an animal or child, will come.  A life of apathy is not one I want in my senior years. I want to live a life of harmony and peace.


Fundraising for Lexi


Lexi was surrendered to our Organization – Out of the Dog House Rescue. She has been neglected and after her visit with our vet May 7, 2013, she is going to need surgery to remove stones in her bladder, if we don’t have them removed, she will continue to bleed when she urinates. She needs to have teeth extracted as they are rotten.

Won’t you please find it in your heart to donate to a very worthwhile cause? To be able to give Lexi the opportunity to live her life to the fullest. She is 5 1/2 years old and was locked in a bedroom only to be let out for bathroom breaks. She is incredibly loving and has been doing very well with her foster family and her pets. Lexi, does have an interest in the cats, but given everything she has gone through, she has been doing very very well. She walks well on a leash, she does listen to instructions. She is very cuddly and loves car rides LOL!

Originally posted on Wags and Wiggles page on Facebook and blogged on Rambling Pets

To donate please go to

Grab our Widget, help spread the word

Thank you so very much~!


Dragon’s Loyalty Award


I have been nominated by my friend  for the Dragon’s Loyalty Award! Tazeinmirzasaad’s blog can be found here : for this beautiful award. I am very honored! Thank you my friend!

The rules are:

-Display the  Award Certificate on your website.

-Announce your win with a written post and link to whoever presented your award.

-Present 15 awards to deserving bloggers.

-Drop them a comment to tip them off after you have liked them in the post.

-Post 7 interesting things about yourself.

If you don’t have a blog but have a website, Facebook, or Twitter or other type account, post there with a link back.

7 things about me:

1. I love doing crossword puzzles

2. I volunteer with an organization that rescues dogs from high kill shelters

3. I have Borderline Personality Disorder and have a blog that I keep as I recover from it.

4. I love doing Zumba!

5. I love gardening and growing my own vegetables

6. I enjoy the Paranormal and find it fascinating

7. I am knitting a blanket that has many different colors.

My 15 nominations are

Congratulations Everyone!




Stuck Feelings

I woke up yesterday morning feeling like I could cry. I had a dream of a dog I helped rescue a couple of months back that she had passed away. Scary thing is, I’ve not thought of she and her daughter (Syndey is about 2 and Annie is about 12 years old) for a little bit now, but I do remember being told that mama Annie didn’t have as long as she was a senior and she has some major issues with her.

This thought has been gnawing at me. I don’t know why the dream showed me this message. This isn’t the first time I’ve had messages come to me in a dream. I know I have a gift, and I do tune into it when it gives me messages like this. I had one recently about one of my own dogs, Lucy, being run over and she died.

Yet, yesterday and today, I have felt on edge, emotions near the surface but nothing comes out of me; well other than being bitchy and snippy. I have been tired because I keep waking up in the night. Its either hot flashes, or I am awakened by a soft tongue of one of my dogs letting me know they want something.

I feel anxious and very nervous. I saw on a DBT forum on Facebook of another person who has been feeling rather on edge herself. She however, says it is the time of year for her.  For me, I suppose it “could” be a part of that, but I suspect it goes deeper.

Recently my therapist and I were conversing over another topic and she said that only I can give myself permission to do something, so why do I think I can’t have permission to do “x”?

The first answer that came to me was I didn’t deserve to. The second was I don’t know any other way of thinking. She replied that this thinking hasn’t helped me has it? I replied, no it hadn’t, but I’m too scared to even step outside of that. The “what if’s” come piling in my head. “what if” I accept that my body won’t go back to a healthy weight? “what if” I accept that I deserve to feel happiness?

The only emotions I feel instantly, even while typing this is panic and fear.  I panic because the very thought of thinking I deserve better emotionally, doesn’t even make sense in my head.

Maybe I’m just not ready to step outside the box? Maybe that’s where the stuck emotions come from? I do know what it feels like to release very intense emotions, one time it happened in a hospital program I was in, and the reenactment of my life story. I was given a nerf bat and as we reenacted a pivotal moment in my life, the rage that started to build and literally spew from me and out to the bat as I literally belted anything that wasn’t sat on. I remember feeling exhausted and cried.

The second time I ever felt like that was about 5 years ago when my ex moved in his old flame into our home. He went cold emotionally and I remember bending down and had this feeling in the pit of my stomach; like the proverbial volcano.  From the balls of my feet, right up through and out of my mouth, I screamed and cried, everything that had ever been in our relationship spewed out of me. I remember at one point, grabbing a cast iron sign that hung at the entrance to our home. “She” had put it up, with their last names. This thing was heavy! Yet, I grabbed it off the post, carried it (albeit wobbly) and threw it as hard as I could! I know if I wasn’t in that rageful moment, there is no way I could have lifted it, let alone thrown it.

I have always said that the emotions scared me and I didn’t want to be like that. So perhaps this is why my emotions are stuck inside of me?

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Looking for that glimmer of light – Bullying Ends HERE

I posted this on my Facebook status page today in relation to the tragic suicide death of Amanda Todd

Sean as the very sad story of Amanda Todd is circulating, many of us can’t help but think of you today and every day. The impact of your loss is insurmountable in words. Like Amanda, you felt that you just couldn’t take the pain and anguish you were in; yet the outpouring of love and friendship for both of you is beyond what I’m sure you and she could have ever imagined. This has been a lesson to not just myself but to many people, on just how much a person DOES matter, even when we are at our lowest. I am not minimizing the pain Amanda, you, myself, or anyone, what I am saying is that just when you really believe in your heart that there is no one, look to that glimmering light, no matter how faint it is, you know what that is…. its the people you think you wouldn’t matter to, reminding you that you do. We all Miss You Sean, Amanda and all who have gone too soon xo

Not only am I reflecting on what the last 24 hours has brought to the surface that of a sweet, young girl, who was bullied for over 2 years. Her poignant story she told a mere 5 weeks before taking her own life this past Wednesday, October 10, 2012.

You can find her YouTube Video here: .

Now I could go and write about what it is like to be bullied as I was in school. Yet, this is much more than simply bullying in school. This is about cyber bullying, something that people know about, and parents have been putting various security systems in place to help protect their children from predators. This is not enough, what draws people to predators is how they feel about themselves. 

Self Esteem, the very essence of what makes us who we are. If our self esteem is bruised and battered by endless words of hate and torment. It makes sense that someone looks to others for validation. They feel so broken and in pieces on the inside that the hope is someone else will make them feel better. 

The only problem with this thought process (and I have done it) is that we set ourselves up to be a predator’s victim, without even knowing we have. See, there are vicious people out there, who feed off of the low self esteem that some people have and those that are seeking out that acceptance, want to trust that the person on the other side of the screen, genuinely likes them.  

How do we teach people the importance of one’s worth? 

How do we teach people that words hurt and leave lasting impressions? 

When do we start teaching our children that they matter? I’ve seen some say as young as the age of 2, is that too young? 

Something has to change, we are losing precious people, because of the deliberate cruelty of others. Somehow we have to get it through everyone’s mind that no matter how bad you feel, no matter how sad you feel, no matter how mad you feel, YOU MATTER