Writing

Objects In The Rearview Mirror Are A Mindfuck

Miss Poison Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

A few days ago, a Facebook group claiming to aid in eradicating anti-Semitism decided to start harassing me to an intolerable degree. For the past two years, which is how long they’ve run their page, they would immediately attack anything I said that interfered with their hateful “message”. They are trying to mask hatred under the guise of, “educating people”. It took a few minutes to realize they are malicious AF. Sometimes, it’s important to keep your eye on people like that. They are dangerous and spreading the wrong message. Hate ISN’T faith.

They are trying to malign my name, my work, and how I represent my portion of the Jewish community. They have gone as far as to tell me I can’t possibly be Jewish, as well as be multicultural. 🙄 DNA and genetics don’t lie. I KNOW who I am. I know where my ancestors come from. And I KNOW my faith/spirituality is different and may be confusing for those who aren’t open-minded. But it isn’t for anyone to judge. This is a (relatively) free country.

I have reported them to Facebook, taken screenshots of their harassment, and blocked them. They are still persisting in their harassment, and I feel forced to send them a cease and desist order. I don’t tolerate harassment because that’s when you cross a line. It isn’t acceptable. 

Apparently, being honest in the community automatically labels you one thing or another, and they like to assume it’s all political. It isn’t. Honesty doesn’t automatically make you right or wrong, nor does it make you left or right. Sharing different opinions and views is part of being human.

Let me set things straight: I’m not a hateful person. I am direct. I KNOW my faults. I’ll apologize in a New York Minute if I’m wrong. There’s no shame in admitting you were incorrect, but there IS a problem with attacking a person, name-calling, and threats of physical, mental, or emotional harm towards another person’s friends and family. I don’t know who the fuck this person thinks they are, but they have NO CLUE about who I am am or what I stand for. 

I am an established writer. It’s not a hobby; it’s my full-time job. Not all writers can say that. I’m genuinely blessed in this arena, and no one is going to fuck with that. My reputation speaks volumes. Being on the right side of history means being FAIR to others; not rabidly hateful.

Should you see something negative posted online with any reference to me, please take a screenshot and share it with me immediately. Legal action is a final effort, but they’re making it necessary.

Ultimately, I have decided to remove myself from all of these so-called “groups” claiming to be a “community”. That’s not what they are. They are supporting different levels of hate, and I’m the only person they’ve repeatedly singled out. Radical fundamentalism in ANY faith is taking things much further than necessary. I will be filing a police report locally. I refuse to be told I am lesser than other Jews, and attacked for the perception of ONE asshole. 

In-fighting is disgusting. It’s the side most people don’t know about, or see, in Judaism, but I assure you it exists. I’m making it known in order to protect myself and my family.

Anti-Semitism ISN’T okay. Nor is harassment of someone who is a private citizen who you’re choosing to single out and demonize. Fuck that.

Since they feel safe behind their devices of choice, I am committed to putting them out of “business”. They are part of what’s wrong with the community at large. It’s time to remove that which is rotten to the core.

For the most part, Jews are thoughtful, kind, peaceful, supportive individuals. Most, not all. They are focused, hard-working, and many members of the community are brilliant in their fields of choice. I was primarily raised by two Jewish mothers; my mother and Grandmother. I was taught to excel, to listen, to be independent and kind, to compete in sports I loved, and to always be myself. My Grandmother wanted a silent, pretty, smart doll to show off to her friends. My mother wanted the fierce warrior she gave birth to. It would probably be easier for a lot of people if I was silent and pretty, with very few thoughts or opinions. <Shrugs> Sorry, Grandma, Mom ordered a dragon slayer.

I do not blame any sect of Judaism for the harassment I am experiencing. This is how the cookie crumbles, and it’s almost certainly coming from someone who is unhappy with their own life above anything else. I mean, who else would have to time to jump on someone every other second? Removing myself from the equation was the best thing I could do, and Facebook can deal with the rest, along with the police. Believe it or not, constant harassment and threats of harm, as well as blatant slander, are considered cyber crimes. Only a true moron thinks all of this is permitted under the first amendment. I’m not one hundred percent certain what country they are in, but it wouldn’t be my first C&D and may not be my last. Knowing the rules,  and adhering to my own personal list of dos and do nots, is important to me. Having integrity and character is important. 

Before you run your mouth on the Internet, make sure nothing you say can be misconstrued. 

copyright © 2020 by Lisa Marino and Poison In Lethal Doses, LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. 

Mars and Venus Issues

Quote Miss Poison Quotes, Writing , , , , , , , , , ,

“Margaret Atwood, the Canadian novelist, once asked a group of women at a university why they felt threatened by men. The women said they were afraid of being beaten, raped, or killed by men. She then asked a group of men why they felt threatened by women. They said they were afraid women would laugh at them.” ―Molly Ivins

*Reading this makes me incredibly sad, and a little angry.

Growing up in an abusive home, I was never truly afraid of my father. Most of his threats were empty and the few times he came close enough to possibly hurting my mother or brother, I would physically intervene and put them behind me. I was nine/ten/eleven, and I never once thought that protecting them was wrong. One day he pushed too far and I knocked him on his ass. I was already well into my teens at that point. Eventually, my mother was afraid I’d kill him, which is ultimately what gave her the strength to begin the process of leaving him. 

People used to ask my mother all the time if she was afraid for me. “Aren’t you worried or afraid of the guys she dates trying to take advantage or harm her?” Her response was, “Nope. They should be more afraid of her. Just because they’re taller or weigh more doesn’t mean she isn’t prepared to take them down. I trust her judgment.” This conversation came up a little too often with her colleagues and friends. It played into the gender roles that are “expected”; hell, they still are. Telling a group of women she trusted me to make the right decisions and take someone out, if need be, was quite alarming to these privileged individuals whose daughters moved across the country (or to another country, entirely) to get away from their overbearing behavior. Not all girls/women are delicate little flowers. Some of us know better, and aren’t into being treated in such a manner. I will stare a man down if he acts like I can’t do things without assistance. If I need an assist, I will ask for it, but I dislike presumptions of weakness. 

Why do we, as a society, (still) act like women, by proxy, are automatically victims? Why do women feel victimized enough to say these are their fears of men? Those are very big fears for women to have. They should be concerns, as opposed to fears. It makes me question who these women are and what they’ve already experienced in order to feel this way.

Yes, I know women who have been raped and sexually assaulted, and many of them blame themselves. They are often too afraid to report the incident and between the police and the legal system, they are failed by both from start to finish. This is NOT acceptable. We cannot blame ourselves for the actions of violent men. While I’m on the subject, why aren’t men smart enough to stop fearing whether or not they will be laughed at when their true fear is being rejected? Why do men think they’re owed sex because you agreed to have dinner with them? There’s no meal on this planet that is deserving of sex as a “reward” or as “payment”. Get the fuck out of here with that thought process! Obviously, not all men view it this way. There are good men in this world, but far too many do think like this. We have to keep educating both men and women regarding these matters. 

Gender roles are changing, but not enough. I am the first one to suggest that women take self-defense classes. I was lucky enough to be one of the only females in a family full of men. I can shoot straight, throw straight, and put a three hundred pound man on the ground with just a few moves. When people were concerned for my safety as a writer, I had to tell them this, and they were shocked. If you can learn something that will give you peace of mind, I encourage it and support you. 

There’s a popular quote that says, “Here’s to strong women. May we know them, be them, and raise them.”

No one is questioning the strength of men, but the mental, emotional, physical, and spiritual strength of women is challenged daily. I’m used to being underestimated. By men, and by other women. But I’m not bothered about it for myself. I am bothered by it for other women. And to be fair, I am also bothered by good men being accused of things they haven’t done. Yes, we should believe men & women when they are brave enough to report something awful, but people are still innocent until proven guilty in the United States. Except Harvey Weinstein. He makes the Devil seem like a kindhearted concept.

Do you have anything to add to what I’ve said? If so, please leave your comments below.

Copyright ©2020 by Lisa Marino and Poison In Lethal Doses, LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. 

 

June

Miss Poison June, Writing , , , ,

img_20200601_102733_395

Thus far, 2020 has not gone anywhere near as planned. If you’ve felt that way, too, then you are most assuredly not alone. The reality that it’s June is daunting. I still have moments where each day blends into the next. It’s a gorgeous 58 degrees here and that’s not common at this stage of Spring. By now, the heat is usually inching towards intolerable.

I have felt the need to be far more silent than usual in my attempt to get things back on track. Everything is different, the air crackles with the intensity of it, but my goals don’t have to be pushed back due to Covid 19 or anything else. Change and growth are on the horizon. They need to be. There’s a lot of work involved to help me refocus on the goals I set for myself this year. They may be delayed, but they are not going to be skipped over. The only person I would be harming by not moving forward, even if it’s slow going, is myself. I’m tired of feeling like I come in last, especially as a result of being there for other people and supporting them.

I keep hearing myself say I’m proud of people or I’m happy for them, or I’m congratulating people multiple times a day (often on things I’m not fully vested in), but the truth is, I need to prioritize myself higher than all of that in order to fully practice what I preach. I, in no way, expect to receive an ounce of support or anyone cheering me on. I don’t live my life that way.

I am hoping things change for the better on a global scale, as well. I have been keeping a lower profile on my social media accounts because the hate and anger are overwhelmingly disturbing. The violence and destruction is not honorable behavior. Before anyone says it; NO, neither is murdering someone without just cause or ignoring their rights. This is not a time to attempt to “go there” with me.

Please don’t misunderstand me; I get it. I understand. I hear it. But for my own mental health, I cannot absorb it. If anyone ever spent ten minutes in my head, they would run away from me screaming. They would likely need to be hospitalized. The nightmare of living inside my own head in order to work things out, to try to heal damaged aspects of my psyche, among other things, makes me numb to a lot. This is a truth many trauma survivors live with, and few ever talk about. It does not make me a bad person. It does not make me heartless or mean-spirited. It does not mean I’m this or that; it just means this is how it is for me. Period. I am not the only person on this planet who cannot absorb the hate and negativity. It physically makes me ill.

Living in heightened physical agony, which I will explain at a later time, is not helping matters, either. From the top of my head all the way to my toes, my body is screaming in pain all day long, and sometimes nights are really awful for me. Every movement, every step taken, every attempt at stretching or getting rid of the knots in my neck makes things worse. Last week, I was diagnosed with a pinched nerve. Without testing, there’s no way to be 100% sure the diagnosis is correct, but I have to wear a neck brace for the next six months. I will also be ordering a special pillow to see if that helps. The pain is out of control, and my body is creating new pain pathways, so escaping this pain is difficult. I will be taking the CBD oil and gummie plunge ASAP. I found a company who was helpful and informative regarding dosing, and that was really important to me. They answered my questions almost immediately. If it’s helping thousands of people who’ve been using it for years, then maybe it will help me, too. I am trying to rely on less medication, overall. I’m sick of pills that work on occasion or don’t work at all. It’s exhausting. I will share the link and discount code providing it is a product I can get behind. Otherwise, I’m not going to appear to endorse something that I don’t fully believe in.

Please be safe, everyone. This month offers no guarantees.

 

 

Essential Appointments

Miss Poison Writing , , , , , , , ,

Today, I went to an essential appointment with my headache specialist. Not surprisingly, she acted like nothing ever happened via phone between us.

This month is my two year mark as one of her patients, and aside from a few appointments where she actually knew my name, and my medical reasons for seeing her, this time she changed my name entirely. Say hello to Mary, everyone. 😂 I’ve been called worse, really. 🙄

The waiting room was predominantly empty, and no one can hear you speak  clearly with a mask on, so I said, “I know you mean me, but that’s not my name.” I had to repeat myself three times. When she went into the system to double check, she wondered out loud, “How the hell did I come up with Mary?” Good question, but I was there for medical treatment, it was not a social call. She put a note in my chart to remember my name for when I go back in early August. 😒

I mostly said yes to her incessant questions. With strict Covid-19 precautions in place, “Yes.” seemed like a great answer to help speed up the 20-30 minute procedure. I was polite, I listened, but I was also astounded that she asked how my migraines have been these past few months, especially since we JUST had that conversation where I was basically begging for alternatives for when a treatment method fails and I’m left suffering. This plea was treated with disrespect and disdain. That sorry excuse for a conversation was not acceptable, but I learned from day one to discuss those matters during follow-up appointments only. Otherwise, she becomes mentally distracted. You do NOT want a doctor distracted when the treatment process requires one hundred and ten percent of someone’s concentration.

I already had a migraine going in to this appointment, so I immediately went to the only place open that serves coffee (I miss you, Starbucks. That’s sad, given the full weight of what’s going on in this world. But hey, I’m human. I love their Iced Green Tea Lemonade and their Passion Tango Lemonade Iced Tea. The former is caffeinated a bit, the latter is herbal. I have gift cards saved to their app. I wouldn’t normally go there, otherwise, but I digress.) for Cold Brew. I was craving it for four days straight. They were out of both versions, so I ordered iced coffee with a shot of vanilla instead. I then proceeded to try making it as light as possible, while adding the correct amount of sugar so it would be lightly sweet. Ordering coffee after noon on most days isn’t a good idea to begin with. I haven’t had coffee in almost a full two years. I gave it up cold turkey because my medication, at the time, required it. No problem. I can give up high dose caffeine. I know most people can’t, but it wasn’t a hardship. I was still drinking iced green tea on occasion once I got the hang of the medication, and when I was unable to find the decaffeinated version, I would still drink full strength Earl Grey on cold mornings (I use a huge mug and two tea bags. I take my tea pretty seriously.). Otherwise, I was drinking my usual water and iced herbal tea. Repetitive boredom, but we do what’s good for us. Or at least, I try my best to do so.

Turns out, I’m still finding coffee incredibly disgusting. Three sips and I was so nauseous, I contemplated whether or not I needed to take Promethazine. I wanted the caffeine to help my migraine, but right now, only ice cold Coke Zero or Pepsi does the trick. When either one tastes REALLY good to me, the caffeine will help considerably. Under normal circumstances, I don’t touch the stuff.

The artificial sweetener most widely used is a neurotoxin. It hasn’t been researched enough regarding the long-term effects on the human body. However, many people are often misdiagnosed with severe neurological or pain disorders when what they REALLY have is Aspartame poisoning. Too often, you aren’t asked about your diet or what you drink, other than alcohol, so I can only wonder how many people are drinking this stuff daily, in one form or another, and making their health worse. I’m pretty good about eliminating things and not looking back.

I cut all of these things out when I was first diagnosed with migraines. There’s a long list that you have to eliminate to see if they are triggers. You can slowly bring things back into your diet, providing they don’t make you sick. I have researched the fact that this sweetener causes insane amounts of inflammation in the body. Even twenty ounces can set you back if your body was trying to heal itself. Unfortunately, the sugar in the regular versions is way too much. I’m a purist; I will use real butter, heavy cream, real sugar, etc., when making specific things for myself, family, and friends. While my taste buds can easily tell good from bad, sometimes you’ll do anything for relief. That’s how bad my migraines have been.

Upon returning from my appointment, my head pain was moving into my neck and I was MISERABLE. I am used to this, sadly. I know it takes a few days or two weeks to start feeling better. Hopefully I can get there quickly because the pain turned into a full-blown flare up, and I can barely think straight. Sleep would be great, but isn’t likely to happen at the moment. 😔

I’ll be recovering from this treatment, but I’ll still be around to share bits and bobs. 😉

© 2020 by Lisa Marino and Blackbird Serenity, LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

img_20200512_143635_534

 

Telehealth and A Scheduled Appointment

Miss Poison Health, Mental Health, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing , , , , , , , , , ,

After a failed attempt last month to have a discussion with my headache specialist regarding my migraines getting worse, today was my first successful Telehealth discussion, and it felt good. Really good.

If you have a doctor who actually cares, regardless of their field, this is not a difficult process. However, it has lead me to realize that my headache specialist has no patience and is a difficult person. I respect her, but I can’t work with someone who has no respect for me as a patient. I’m just a medical record number to her. There are many appointments where she spends a good five minutes reciting names, and the entire time, I know she’s looking for me, but since she doesn’t look at anyone, it’s good to wait until you hear some version of your name. She usually starts with Erica, and unless I see Erica there, because I’ve learned who is scheduled at the same time as me, then I immediately know she will eventually have a practice assistant approach her to read the proper name off the paper in her hand. She never seems to recall even the most basic info about me, so I wait until she logs into her computer. When a physician has said to you, on four separate occasions, “Is this your first visit?”, it’s startling that faces are blending into the woodwork for them.

Moreover, there is never a valid reason for a doctor to raise their voice and/or yell at you, but she felt perfectly comfortable doing so over the phone. If you’re going to yell at me and talk to me like I’m a moron, it will never get you the desired response. Not ever. I’m not an idiot and I am not new to any of what I am experiencing. Doctors who talk down to you aren’t doctors you need in your life. I feel the same way about regular people, too.

If you suffer from chronic migraines, you probably already know that enormous doses of vitamin B2 and magnesium aren’t going to fix anything. I can only take the magnesium once every few days. and B2 doesn’t seem to make any kind of difference. This is not my first migraine rodeo. She shouldn’t tell me it’s “perfectly safe” when she didn’t bother to see if I am vitamin deficient before demanding I increase my supplements. Instead, she placed blame on a myriad of other issues, and then tried passing the buck to another doctor. That’s not going to work with me because I’m an educated patient and her screaming at me did not garner a positive reaction.

What galls me even more is that she actually billed for a conversation that didn’t even last ten minutes. I contemplated a phone call to my insurance company about this, since their requirements state it must be at least fifteen to twenty minutes via phone in order for any of my healthcare providers to bill for Telehealth, but since they already paid, I’m not going to argue the point. Yes, we all deserve to be compensated for our time, but rules ARE rules and she dismissed me, as opposed to having an intelligent discussion. I am going to ask for a secondary neurologist (as an alternative opinion) as soon as things are safe to proceed medically because she doesn’t want to order tests or talk over treatment plans with me. She is the first neurologist who refuses to put an emergency plan in place into my chart. Every other neurologist handed me a note for any potential trips to the emergency room because every emergency room or Urgent Care finds it so much easier to treat you if they have instructions on how to do it. We are all different and what works for Patient A and Patient B probably doesn’t work for me. I refuse to set foot in an emergency room ever again, but even my last Urgent Care experience was poor care, and it didn’t even involve migraines. Poor care seems to be the status quo, but I am fighting to change that because I’m not the only person who has had enough of the bullshit.

This incident made me even more grateful to have a tuned in discussion with someone today, and to have the take away be that I am doing my best and that the things that are creeping up out of the woodwork are things we will address and gain control of over time. A collaborative relationship is so much easier, and calmer, than a relationship where a physician thinks they can dictate your treatment to you. I hope she doesn’t have children, grandchildren, pets, or even a plant, because I’ve found, over time, that the way the majority of medical professionals behave at work is also how they behave in their daily lives. Others are clearly living a duplicitous existence because they’re only nice to their family or their patients, not both. Yes, I speak from personal experience.

Today, I was notified that my headache specialist will be honoring my treatment for this coming Wednesday. Do I think it’s an essential appointment? I don’t know, but I do know that I’m sick and that I would likely get worse without it. Thanks to a cancellation, my appointment was moved up, so that helps a bit, but having to wear a mask and gloves into a medical building is anxiety waiting to happen. The mask makes me terribly claustrophobic. I’m agitated just thinking about it. A lot has changed since my last treatment in February. I am hoping this one works well and that I am not in the building any longer than necessary. If I didn’t feel the treatment was working, I would reschedule, but I’m going. The mask and gloves redefine “Mugger Chic”. 😉

I am not feeling anxious or stressed over Covid 19. I’m just more self-aware and mindful regarding everything, and I am sure many of us feel the same way.

I’ll be fine and I have another Telehealth conversation scheduled for next Friday, so if I’m not fine, there’s someone on the other end who gives a shit, and that is comforting to know.

© 2020 by Lisa Marino and Blackbird Serenity, LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

facebook_1589262102637_6665848394141741518

 

 

 

 

Out Of Order

Miss Poison Writing , , , , , ,

lolcats-da-dictshunary-sez

This is my self-portrait at the moment. I genuinely wish I had more to offer today, but my pain levels are sky-high and my doctor has decided that he won’t be treating my pain after all. This agitates me to be told one thing and have another thing entirely occur. It also means I will have to search harder for someone who is willing to take my suffering seriously.

My body is laughing at the Tylenol I have been taking in an attempt to take the edge off. Let’s face it; it’s a placebo effect. It isn’t meant for chronic pain. I’m thisclose to becoming a day drinking champion the moment we include Kombucha and other organic beverages (like the green tea lemonade I’m fond of.). It’s safe to say my body, mind, and soul are completely burnt out. Pain of any kind will do that to a person. 😦

Plus, as we glide into may tomorrow, it’s a reminder of how much pain a month delivers to a person. I am determined to get through it the best way I know how. Clearly, I can’t do anything I want to do since we’re all under stay at home orders, but I do need to drag my ass through the month, no matter how I feel. I wish I could say I’ll be doing it with the support of loved ones, but that isn’t the case. Nearly everyone has their head up their ass, and I’m not a fan of one-sided relationships, so I’m doing what I feel is right. This whole quarantine situation has brought everyone’s true colors to the forefront. So for now, I’m going to lay low and pop up when I have something meaningful to say.

Wash your hands and wear masks. There’s nothing like “mugger chic” to bring out the weirdness. 😉 My mask has paw prints on it. Yes, paw prints. Personally I think it’s a lot better than Red Sox, Patriots, Celtics, and Bruins logos, but that might just be the New Yorker in me. I’ll be back.

 

Confrontation

Miss Poison Anger, False Friends, Friendship, Writing , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

img_20200331_025618_114

Anyone who has read my work for more than a month or two can likely tell you basic things about my character. My friends can tell you precisely who I am and what I stand for.

My own brother has described me as, “The last person I ever want to disappoint because you’re scarier than Mom and Dad combined. I’m more scared of your reaction than I am anyone else’s.” I was surprised to learn this, but it explains his behavioral patterns around me because he knows I see through all the bullshit.

Whenever someone describes me, these are the key words used: Honest. Loyal. She says precisely what she means; there’s zero sugarcoating involved. She’s not exceptionally forgiving, and that’s because she knows the difference between a mistake and patterns.

One of my own physicians said he knows I don’t hold back and he respects that because he sees other people do it and wonders what they aren’t saying, but never wonders with me because I’m not afraid to be forthcoming and extremely honest about everything. When I hear myself described like that, I know I am a solid person, regardless of what the occasional idiot may think or be stupid enough to say.

In life, forgiveness is something people have to earn. Once you break my trust, will I forgive you? Or will I listen, merely because I prefer closure? I suppose it depends on the person, but I am now faced with this in my real life.

Early this morning, something popped up in my Facebook memories that pissed me off. I was so angry for a moment, I saw red. Red is a warning sign. It’s like blood spatter to Dexter Morgan. Anger fuels me to be a better person, but that moment where I see red? That’s dangerous.

A former friend who made plans with me and then texted, weeks prior to arrival, to say her boyfriend had scheduled a private tour of the zoo the day we intended to meet up decided to pop back up with apologies. In truth and fairness, I baited her because I was enraged by what I saw.

When she had originally asked if I could make time during the month of May to meet up because she couldn’t wait to see me and missed me, I set an entire day aside, and not for nothing, it was the anniversary of my mother’s death which is SO hard for me. Lesson learned; I will never do that again, especially not for someone who flakes on me.

Quite frankly, I am astounded that anyone over the age of twelve, or someone studying certain forms of biology and/or science, would desire a tour of a zoo. 🙄 It breaks my heart to see animals in captivity. The only thing I do appreciate is the preservation of big cats. Leopards, certain types of tigers, cheetahs, and some of the smaller exotic cats are becoming extinct. This is not news, though. I don’t want to live in a world where these amazing creatures do not exist. I appreciate the wild preservation of their habitats in South Africa immensely, especially all the work being done in Namibia. However, that’s not what angered me.

It was not a change of plans, as she seems to believe, but the disrespect of my time and not immediately standing up to said boyfriend and letting him know that she already had plans that day. You can’t text me and say, “Just FYI, he scheduled a tour of the zoo that day. He’s trying to change it, but…” But nothing. I replied by saying, “I don’t even know how to answer that, so I won’t.” That moment, right there, is when you reschedule or call me about alternatives. You address it in the moment. Especially since she’s here at least 2-4 times a year to visit him.

The post in my “memories” credited me for the friend I am to her, and after deleting my initial response from two years ago where I stated that I’d always have her back, I let it be known that real friends learn how to apologize so they don’t lose their ride or die support system. She immediately replied with an apology and wanted to get into it. 😒 It’s pretty sad when someone waits and waits before they finally get called out. My anger was my error at seeing this proclamation which feels faker than a three dollar bill, and feeling as though a nearly eight year friendship was a total lie.

When a person says they were ashamed and too shy to contact you because they figured you needed time to forgive them, I find that a mixture of pathetic and laughable. I’m not a rabid beast; you just have to communicate properly. All she had to do was reschedule and be respectful of my friendship and time. That’s how adults resolve things. I would also love to know why she thinks I’m going to forgive her, because if you know me, you know forgiveness isn’t a likely scenario. I’ve got boundaries and self-respect.

Also, and this is important: I don’t permit men to tell me who I can and cannot be friends with. Nor do I allow men to make decisions for me OR disrespect my friends and family. I’d sooner stick a fork in his thigh. I’m not someone’s mouthpiece or tool, and I do not suffer fools. I’m not some delicate little flower. I am a lotus.

If you’re in a controlling relationship, naturally that person doesn’t want you to be around friends who are loyal, honest, smart, make you laugh, and who, up until this occurred, I would have cheerfully shot in the leg and buried alive. I will never, EVER support a friend who chooses to remain in an abusive relationship simply because they see the abuse as a form of love. I assure you, I’ve lived it and witnessed it, and it’s NOT on the same plane of existence as love. Perhaps some beggars refuse to make the choice for themselves because they’re not strong enough.

An abusers’ ultimate goal is to isolate you from your friends and family almost entirely. The sad part is that so many people let the abuser win. If you confront that friend, suddenly you’re labeled as “jealous”. 🙄😂 No sweet pea, I feel sorry for you. No one sane wants to be in an abusive relationship, and I will absolutely give you credit if you have gotten out of one. By “you”, I mean whoever is reading this and nodding their head in agreement because they understand what I’m saying. They understand because they’ve escaped the madness and uncertainty of being in a relationship with a gaslighting, narcissistic, abusive, disrespectful jack ass.

Instead of letting this discussion become Facebook fodder, I replied by saying we should discuss it privately. I don’t do drama on my page at all. Also, I need time before I say anything, but I’m willing to hear the nonsense out. Perhaps I’ve already made my decision and DO want closure. I’m not entirely sure. In truth, I am still so angry that anyone thinks this is acceptable treatment of a friend who has been the highest quality friend one could have or hope for.

An old friend once said, “Lisa isn’t to be trifled with.”, and I think that sums things up nicely. People assume I’m nice, sweet, caring, kind, and a host of other things that nauseate me. Clearly, I have my moments and some good qualities or no one would ever be able to call me a friend, but the second you cross over the line, you’re going to meet the other side of me. The one I often refer to as “The Dragon Slayer”. When you meet that other person who is professionally icy, you might not know what to make out of her. That’s okay. She’s already seen you coming from a hundred miles away and she’s not in the mood to psychologically break you into bits, but she will, if necessary. Many women are as multifaceted as what I’ve just described. We can be your best friend, your biggest supporter, or we can be an enemy. The grey area is ambivalence. It always is.

When you call me your “sister”, that’s a fucking privilege. It’s not some cute word to throw around. Fact: I will always be someone’s sister. I was born a sister. I am a sister to my brother, and to several of my cousins. My best friend and I have basically grown up together, and she is 7000+ miles away. She is 100% my sister. 100% family. She wouldn’t dream of disrespecting our friendship in any way. She would never fly into town and NOT see me. She would never disrespect our friendship, our time, or our bond. I would never disrespect her, either. Alas, I now realize how one-sided this other “friendship” actually was.

I was the support system. The therapist. The one with a fully functioning brain. The one with the grace and maturity I’ve possessed for the majority of my life without truly seeing it until someone pointed it out to me recently. I got nothing out of this relationship, except the feeling that I was always on call, like a doctor. When communication stopped, I felt free. I felt like I hadn’t been able to breathe properly, and suddenly this drain on my life force was no longer present. I was relieved. I was done.

I don’t know if there’s anything salvageable here. The pretty words of apology and love are just that; they’re pretty fucking words that mean nothing to me. They are not the actions of someone who is truly sorry and apologized on their own. I forced it by calling her out, and she would have waited for me to make a move until she died if I hadn’t had that flare of anger. I can legitimately say nothing for the remainder of my life and be good with that. If you’re trying to play the silent treatment game with me, you will lose. It’s NOT a fucking game, it is real life. Friends are not expendable beings.

My closest friends often say, “You’re honest and direct, but you’re also supremely fair. So if someone has pissed you off or hurt you, they deserve whatever you dish out because they didn’t have any respect for you.” That acknowledgement and validation is like music to my ears because it’s pure and true.

I don’t do disrespect in my relationships. I don’t make plans and leave people hanging without a word. I will never intentionally flake out on you. I’m not rude and disrespectful. I will be on my best behavior when you drag the uninvited boyfriend along without telling me in advance. Basically that means I won’t poison his food or accidentally, on purpose, stab him in the neck when he says something disrespectful to you that makes me want to slap him while you sit there and take it. Ultimately, I’m YOUR friend, NOT his, and I reserve the right to judge him. 😉 #BarelyKidding

The one time I had a huge disagreement with a friend, I apologized because I was wrong, but the friendship was very much like this one. I realize that now. I overvalued it because to me, friendship is a commodity I don’t play games with. But there I was; the rock she was desperately holding on to, until a bigger rock came along and I was tossed aside like garbage.

I don’t like leeches and I really don’t like psychic vampires. They are referred to as such because they drain you. Physically, mentally, and emotionally. To the point where you eventually avoid them or cut them loose. Dealing with them causes disabling fatigue. Unfortunately, you can’t increase your iron intake and be good to go. The only way to stop the drain is to deny them access to you.

I have never seen any relationship successfully recover fully from disrespect and a breach of boundaries and trust. I’ve tried with one person in particular. Repeatedly. I inevitably decided five years ago that enough was enough and that if they came back tomorrow, I’d listen, but the friendship would still be over. Essentially, I feel the same about this situation. There’s no emotion involved at all, except the previously aforementioned ambivalence, and that’s no way to rebuild something, or start from scratch with. You can’t slap me and tell me you love me. It doesn’t work that way. It never has.

I’m in control of how accessible I am, so she will be sweating it out for as long as it takes me to be patient enough to listen without rolling my eyes. I make no promises, though.

I am not afraid of confrontation. Not even a little bit. I know who I am. I know where I’m coming from, and I know where I’m going. I can’t save every broken birds’ wings. That is not my job, nor is it a role I want to take on. I wear many hats, but it’s time to send the wrong people packing. They were never meant to be a part of my long-term tribe, and that’s okay. I’ve grown and changed, and the last thing I want to do is take on any type of false superhero aspect. In life, your ultimate, true savior is YOU. Grab a sword and take a stab at it. Please don’t wait for someone to rescue you on a white horse. This only exists in fairytales. Perhaps before you buy into such bullshit, you should read about faeries and learn something.

© 2020 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity, LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. 

img_20200331_210127_704

By the way, Peace Talks by Jim Butcher is now available for pre-order. FINALLY! Release day is July 14th. There, I promoted something for another writer. Jim’s a badass wordsmith who shares the same birthday as I do. Give him a shot, and start with Storm Front. You won’t be sorry. #DarkUrbanFantasy

A Splash of Humor, A Heap of Honesty

Miss Poison Honesty, Humor, Writing , , , , , ,

facebook_1584129597873

Started a post early this morning that isn’t done yet. When a migraine threatens to birth enormous puppies of agonizing torture through your skull, you need to sleep and hope it’ll help. Unfortunately, I woke up and it was worse, so I left a message for my doctor’s office to get back to me. My abortive drug is failing me, so maybe my doctor can recommend a newer one. I’m pretty fed up with her inability to return a phone call in a timely fashion. Over six weeks isn’t even remotely close to acceptable.

I will try to finish what I’m writing ASAP. I’ve probably made my decision already in terms of what to do and how to handle the issue, but occasionally I appreciate mild input.

Tonight, my major plan is to make dinner, hydrate as much as humanly possible, and go to bed before 10:30. I think that’s fair because I have so much to do and lost today because I’m sick.

It’s important for people who don’t suffer from chronic pain to understand that sick days are NOT an, “excuse”. I’ve NEVER used my illnesses as an excuse for anything. An explanation? YES.

If you’re an obsessive compulsive, Type A personality, you probably need to learn that you’ll catch more flies with honey than you will with vinegar. I don’t respond to outbursts, tantrums, and unacceptable rage behavior. I don’t respond to name-calling and accusations. Until I do, and then you’ll wish you hadn’t pushed this particular dragon. So when I say I’m sick and I’m trying to sleep, LET ME BE. My pain and suffering isn’t trying to inconvenience anyone. And if that’s how you think and you’re unable to comprehend true suffering, I strongly suggest you find yourself a good psychiatrist and therapist to help you work on your issues so you don’t dole out your tyranny over someone who is already doing the best they can. No one is implying you be a pushover, but pushing someone who is already sick enough means you’re adding to their pain. Is that REALLY who you want to be?

I hope you’re all well and doing the best you can given the circumstances. Today is day ten of my second round of quarantine. I pray this is resolved soon because this is a terribly unhealthy situation for so many of us. I’m glad to see companies stepping up to help with sanitizing and cleaning products, with producing ventilators, and all the people I know right now who are home sewing masks for their local or regional hospital staff. There are some damn good people out there doing their best.

Talk to you all soon.

Always,

lisa

 

Apparently, We’re Doing Odd Miracles This Week

Miss Poison Writing , , , , , , , , ,

After folding clothes, tossing things, setting things aside for another time, and searching high and low, I finally locate the missing cord. I didn’t scream, “YES!” like I wanted to because someone else is now doing the whole, “Work from home” thing and I am trying to be quiet, out of the way, and respectful.

After plugging everything in, and trying to prepare myself mentally, I was speechless as I moved the touchpad around a little. Why? Because my computer suddenly decided to unfuck itself, and is now doing all the things it’s supposed to do.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me?” was my silent reaction. I’ve turned it on so many time hoping it was just a minor glitch. I’ve run scans and diagnostics, and nothing seemed to be wrong. Apparently, G-d is on my side today.

I will not allow this to make me complacent, though. After finding my two previous laptops backed up to the hard drive, I couldn’t figure out how to backup this one, but now that I’ve got the cords, I will let someone walk me through the steps because they ARE different steps with this operating system. I noticed it had updated and turned the computer off while I was asleep, and that might have something to do with it because I saw so many articles where people were livid about bugs in the update. Now more than ever, we should have a greater appreciation for how much technology makes our lives easier

I will be back soon with my plans for Round Two of my quarantine. I went 18 days on Round One and I’m not feeling so great on day 4 this time around. Unfortunately, after my low grade fever went away, I’ve mostly had breathing problems. Some of this is definitely allergy related. But I’ve questioned if something was wrong with my lungs for the past six and a half months, so I will have to call my doctor and pursue matters further. I just have no idea when that will work out since they are currently doing video discussions and phone calls in order to minimize how many people are in the hospital building at a time. I have an appointment the end of next month and another in mid-May. I really hope I will be able to keep both appointments, but I guess I’ll know more in a few weeks.

For now, it’s medication time and rest. Orders from the doctor(ate). 😉

© 2020 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity, LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

img_20200325_130402_748