Chained

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Part of falling apart means picking up the pieces, even if “the pieces” are, in essence, yourself. It’s not an easy step. In fact, it is being made far worse for me by external forces; all fighting to control me because something is lacking in their lives.

When you are forced to rebuild your life, it simply doesn’t happen overnight. It takes time. Unless you happen to hit Powerball or the Mega Millions, it is a lengthy process. Nothing is immediate, because nothing is handed to you.

You do not intend to diminish in capacity health-wise, but even the healthiest person needs time to fall apart and put themselves back together. You don’t intend for things to wait, and wait, and wait some more, but quite frankly; you’re fucking SICK and you know your limitations. Unless people are willing to be physical participants, they can talk ’til the cows come home, it doesn’t help matters.

No matter how many times I ask for help, compassion, or simply to be treated like a human-being, I am met with questions and excuses. The underlying questions are often unspoken, but I can hear projected thoughts. It’s a rare gift, so don’t direct a thought at me unless you want it heard and/or dissected.

Over the past few months the projected questions have been, “Is she really as sick as she says she is?”, which questions my character and is NOT okay. I’ve never made up an illness in my life. As a child, right into my teens, my mother would take me to the doctor immediately, no matter what. If ever I thought I was trying to get a day off from school, as children often do, I’d always end up in the doctor’s office. Every single time, something was legitimately wrong. Not once did the doctor say “Oh, she’s fine. Maybe she just didn’t want to go to school today.” Nope. It was always “It’s a good thing you brought her in, she has a double ear infection and what looks like strep throat.” or “She’s running a high fever and has bronchitis.” There were other things that were far worse. My body would clearly speak up to be by saying “Today is not your day.” and when you’re young, all you can really say is “I don’t feel good.”, and explain what is physically hurting. As an adult, you can explain things much more clearly, providing someone is listening and gives a damn. I woke up one morning on day two of a killer migraine and wrote “This is not how I typically feel during a migraine. I do not feel like myself. This has never happened before.” I keep notes for each migraine in the migraine app I use, which helps me track my headaches and pain better. I keep notes in my food journal, because it helps me process information about my overall health, and whether something affected me on a dietary level or not.

Another recent projection: “She looks fine, so she must be.” Do I REALLY?

“She did A, B, and C today, why can’t she also do D?” Because there is a grand conspiracy, that’s why. <rolls eyes> It’s important for me to know my limitations on any given day. If I can lift 100 pounds one day and cannot get out of bed for a week, then that is the price I have to pay for lifting 100 pounds. It’s not selective, and no one has the right to judge it.

There are so many things projected at me, but it’s far worse when said behind my back. If you cannot say something to my face, you’re a fucking coward. I don’t care who you think you are, that’s the truth. Two, be careful what you say to my face. I may not respond, but I am cataloging every.fucking.thing until D-Day. You are dealing with a time bomb, and you don’t want to be around when I finally lose my temper. I do a LOT to keep it in check. I try very hard to filter my brain-to-mouth ratio, so as not to offend people who don’t know me very well, but I’ve been biting my tongue for far too long. Someone is going to get hurt when I finally stop biting my tongue and cease holding back, and it’s not going to be me. I often say the pen is mightier than the sword, but my words are my sword and shield. What other people can do with nonsense to dredge up drama, I will do with truth. People tend not to like that, but I prefer to be myself. If you’re looking to commit suicide via words, then step into my office. I’m happy to use everything in my arsenal.

I have learned not to lower myself to the level of others to give in to their desire to be hateful and/or cruel. Once I’ve seen your true face, that’s about as real as it gets. You’ll never be able to hide behind anything ever again, because I’ve seen you. I know what you are. I may keep it to myself, but I usually have a legitimate reason for it.

When you behave a certain way, this is what comes to my mind: “Quod me alit, me extinguit” which means “What feeds me extinguishes me.” Another one that comes to mind is “Quod me nutrit me destruit” which generally gets interpreted as “What motivates can also consume from within.“, though it means “What nourishes me destroys me.

I used to talk quite openly about being fueled by hatred. It helped me see clearly, helped me be a better person, because I saw how hateful others were and didn’t want to be like them. I saw such ugly behavior all around me, and I refused to become that kind of person. I choose not to be selfish, self-centered, self-absorbed, or a bad person. I’m not perfect and I’ll never win an award for being angelic or congenial, but I know who I am. I’m not going to kiss anyone’s ass, but I’m also not going to attack someone without just cause either.

Being underestimated, especially a woman, is commonplace. I find it downright hilarious when other women underestimate me. Appearances can be deceiving. The woman who looks like the “girl next door” could very well be a serial killer; one never knows. Judge me if you want to be judged in turn, though quite frankly, I can barely be bothered. I’ve got bigger fish to fry.

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I spend my days battling an invisible illness that progressively gets worse, and I am judged harshly for it. No more. I see everyone precisely as they are now, and my shields aren’t coming down for anyone ever again.

There are hundreds of symptoms to Fibromyalgia, depending on how long you’ve had it and how it has progressed for you. I know people who have mild versions of it, and are able to live full lives, despite needing a little more self-care than usual. I wish it were that simple for me, but it’s not. For me, it started with chronic migraines. A year later I was going to doctor after doctor demanding that they find out what was wrong with my neck and shoulder. It was blown off for nearly two years as muscle injuries, until an MRI showed otherwise. I have inoperable damage to my cervical spine. There are only seven vertebrae that make up the cervical spine, and four of mine are damaged. There is damage to my lower lumbar spine as well, a section made up of five vertebrae, and 2-3 of mine show damage. My doctor is unsure how I got that, saying that most people probably have it (lower lumbar injuries) without realizing it because we throw our bodies around on our beds, etc., lift things that are too heavy, shovel snow, etc. I’ve never been that fragile physically, I was an athlete growing up, so maybe he’s right, maybe he’s not, but I will never know what caused that additional damage. I am almost certain I know what caused the cervical damage. I am due for a new set of MRI’s next year. I am not looking forward to any new information on it, especially knowing that there is damage to my tailbone that hasn’t healed properly, but a new brain MRI and spinal MRI are standard procedure for me. I have no choice and in truth, it is better to know now, that way I might finally receive proper treatment.

While chronic migraines may indeed be a side effect of Fibromyalgia, I also know many people who do not suffer from them, and have Fibromyalgia. It was the first symptom for me, but it’s not the same for every sufferer. I have, in two months, gone through nearly three bottles of OTC pain reliever for almost daily migraine pain. Here’s hoping new doctors have new answers.

Physically, I fight a battle each day just to get out of bed and be able to move around. Some days, I lose, but it’s not a failing on my part, it’s me having to come to terms with my body. I already have a booking for the beginning of September, which is great news (The pay, on the other hand, is less than half of my normal hourly rate, which offends me, but hey, I’ve got to be able to eat and pay bills. Even if it’s one dollar at a time. 😦 ), and I am hoping more jobs will come in soon, especially since reading, proofing, and editing are about all I can tolerate at the moment. The person who wanted me to edit 100,000 words in 24 hours, with notes, was delusional beyond words. If they had offered me the correct rate, I might have negotiated it into two or three days, but when the pay is shit, you’ve got to know your physical, mental, and tolerance limitations and say no to things (and people) that will not better you. If it won’t pay a bill or help you do the things you need to do, then it’s not worth it.

I do feel broken at the moment physically and emotionally. I am trying to put myself back together and get shit done. My mother used to say “All you can do is your absolute best, and if that isn’t good enough for anyone, fuck them,” She rarely swore, but she’s right. I am doing my BEST. If it isn’t good enough, tough shit. You can judge me when you’re 100% perfect, and not fighting your body each day. If I were completely healthy, no pain, etc., I wouldn’t be having this conversation, but I am. When people try to pressure you, you have to look closely at their motivation. If it is not a gentle nudge with a genuine, loving, caring heart; walk away. Anyone who wishes you harm or detests you, but refuses to communicate it to your face, shouldn’t be allowed to breathe the same air that you do. Quite frankly, quality oxygen for the viciously rude should never be allowed.

It is bad enough being chained to a body FULL of unrelenting pain. I refuse to be chained to other people’s demands or bullshit.

I am in charge of my life. Don’t pretend to care if you don’t, and don’t say you love me if it’s not the absolute truth. I smell liars all around me. There’s nothing like the smell of reptiles to ruin your day/week/month/year.

Here’s hoping no one has to experience what I have because no one deserve it.

copyright © 2016 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

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Family Is More Than Blood

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Information fell into my hands over the past few weeks that has shown me things that were immensely hurtful. It showed me the truth behind the falseness. My response to it is going to be mind-blowing. I hope people are prepared to deal with true wrath. Never say things in print that you cannot take back and never say them to someone who will repeat it to me, or record it in some way.

Some People

A year ago, I probably would not have believed that my life would be what it is in this moment. It was unfathomable, and it is incredibly difficult for me transitioning into this “new life”.

Recently someone made the grave mistake of telling me that I “choose not to be happy”. Forgive me, but that’s not only rude, it’s insulting.

I find happiness itself difficult. I’ve struggled with the definition since I was about six. After all, what is happiness without your loved ones close by? I am not the “gone and forgotten” type of person that people might wish I was, and I am grateful that my memory allows me to have significant substance as a human-being, as opposed to being careless, thoughtless, rude, forgetful, selfish, and hurtful to others. I am the person that will always apologize if she’s over-stepped her boundaries or gone too far. I like that about myself. I see it as a great strength, not as a weakness.

Like many other people in this world, I was raised to trust my family & friends. I was raised that “family comes first”. My Grandmother instilled a “Family First” mentality into us, but I decided to redefine her terms, unbeknownst to her.

At around age 13, when I lost my ability to be nice as well as the ability to care what people thought of me, and learned precisely how evil and duplicitous other people are, I started taking a closer look at those around me. For a time, I had something other people wanted and that resulted in the end of many friendships as the years would come and go. Quite sadly, what those other people coveted wasn’t worth a damn thing. It was as fair-weather as they were; but no one should have to learn that their friendships are false and that their family is equally as bad.

Growing up in an abusive, nuclear family; I am completely intolerant of abuse in my life now. While I hate using the OCD comparison, because some people suffer greatly with it, other people use it as a means of control because they feel something in their life is out of control, or perhaps many things. In turn, the person displaying these OCD traits becomes abusive and accusatory. The truly attentive person notices everything from day one. The OCD abuser notices it seemingly out of the blue, and they use it to blame you for things you don’t think, leave alone do. It builds and builds until you reach your boiling point. I reached mine a long time ago, but I was lulled into a false sense of security that this person was, somehow, stable and getting their shit together. They haven’t, and eventually they’re going to realize my escape plan is a drastic one.

I’ve never not discussed the abuse I’ve been through openly and honestly. I’m not ashamed of it. One- It was never my fault, and Two- I survived. Unfortunately what bothers me most about certain types of abuse is that is starts off subtly. It can actually look like love and concern, until it doesn’t. Please pay attention to the signs and know when to walk away. I don’t care who the person is or thinks they are, you are worth more than that. Far too many abusers disguise themselves as friends and family, which sometimes makes it hard to distinguish precisely what it is you’re experiencing. My feeling on that is “abuse is abuse”, and it’s unacceptable, regardless of the packaging it comes in.

SAM_1166
My pretty little jungle friend, staking out prime real estate.

Some people astound me, in the open-mouthed, “Are you fucking kidding me?” kind of way.

I have “family” coming into town this weekend. I use the word so loosely they should be able to hang themselves with it. It wasn’t until Wednesday evening that I was informed that I was invited to this “family gathering”. For the record, I like 6-8 weeks notice on the arrival of family members I don’t care for and a week for those I give a damn about, which is an increasingly small list.

I find it interesting that I was “invited” to this gathering, seeing as how their children, my younger cousins, both got married, one of whom had a baby less than a year ago, but I somehow wasn’t good enough to be invited to either wedding (Those are family events, last time I checked.), yet my presence gets a half-assed “Do you think she’d like to join us?” at the last minute?! That blows my mind. No, I wouldn’t like to join you. I find you both repugnant, and that’s putting it mildly.

I have not seen these two “family members” since my mother’s funeral. Not only have they treated me horribly and disrespectfully for the majority of my life, but a year after the funeral, in which they blatantly disrespected both my brother & I to our faces, when I notified family & friends about my parents’ unveiling (The Jewish tradition of unveiling the headstone.), none of them showed up. Not an e-mail, a phone call, or a fucking smoke signal. Only one had a solid excuse; her daughter was graduating college here in Boston. I sent her a note at the time letting her know that I knew she wouldn’t be able to make it, but that I wanted her to have my updated address and phone number and if she needed anything, I would be there for her. I congratulated her on my cousin’s graduation. No response. That was IT for me, especially after they lost their parents and I received third-party e-mails to inform me about funerals I could not attend at the last minute seeing as how I had a huge trip to make and was unable to drop everything. They all live close to where my parents funerals were held, so there was no excuse in terms of travel or anything like that for them. I intentionally gave everyone travel time instead of burying my parents within 24 hours, which is our tradition. Everyone had advance notice, so none of them had an excuse not to show up at my father’s funeral or my mother’s.

“I’d love to hear more about this, but I’m on my way to Spin Class.”, said the second cousin to a relative who was relaying the message because I had my own phone calls to make. Does that sound like genuine concern over a relative passing away? Not a single one showed even the slightest amount of class by picking up a phone, or bothering to send my grieving mother, brother, and I so much as a card. When you’re a narcissist and come to me eight years later (indirectly, mind you) with false claims as to how I treated you at my own mother’s funeral, asking to be in my presence after all this time; you’re either on some incredibly powerful drug, or you’re an asshole. I’ve chosen to go with both.

They have issues with how I treated them at the funeral. It is the most laughable accusation I have EVER heard in my family dynamic. I didn’t know whether to howl with laughter or cry at the stupidity of how self-involved they are. And I am perfectly willing to discuss it with them, via phone or e-mail. Hell, they can be my new “Facebook friends”. But being in my direct presence is a privilege and an honor, and neither of them make the cut.

What I was not aware of in this scenario is that they’ve had a middleman all these years, someone who has listened to their false claims of phone calls and showing love and care to my mother for many years. It happened ONCE, and ONLY ONCE, let’s not exaggerate it into the greatest relationship to ever live. I have repeatedly asked this person NOT to discuss me with them in any capacity. Said person agreed. I don’t know why that has somehow changed and yeah, it pisses me off. It’s breach of promise. It’s such a simple thing “Please don’t discuss me with these people, they are not my family.” It’s direct, to the point, and is precisely what I want. Not to be discussed. I don’t need their negativity directed at me.

Here’s one of my main rules in life: If you cannot be my family every single day, then you don’t get to choose to be family when it suits you, as in, whenever you happen to pop into town. Again, I am happy to discuss their issues, via phone or e-mail, and that is pure kindness on my part, a kindness I don’t feel they genuinely deserve.

They are cowards to talk about me behind my back, as opposed to coming directly to me, so I have two words for them and since I lack the ability to be “fake polite”, I definitely cannot play the game of falsity by spending an entire day with them, or even thirty seconds.

I legitimately have nothing to say to these people. I don’t think about them and I don’t talk about them. I even went over the conversation with my brother to verify everything and he agreed that their behavior at the funeral was appalling (They wouldn’t even stand near us, and not a single one of them said “I am sorry for your loss.”), but that mine was not; I was in mourning and about as polite as I could be after having lost both of my parents and giving the eulogy. He said “We never talk about these people and we don’t think about them; they’re not a part of our lives. We could be dead, they wouldn’t care, leave alone notice.” THANK YOU! That’s first-person validation, not that I needed it, I just wanted to clarify the events because I know how I behaved and I occasionally like to hear his perspective on things we’ve been through together. He’s 100% right. I don’t owe them anything.

I would rather read a good book, see a movie, take a walk, willingly walk someone’s dog, etc., than be forced to spend a moment in their presence. That would be smothering everything I stand for, and I’d be sullying the memory of my mother by allowing them to creep into my life in any fashion. I’d have to run to Salem and get every practicing witch I could find to smudge me with sage. I’m not exaggerating. Their negativity is sickening. The narcissism alone kills me. They think they’re perfect and cannot fathom all the superiority they’ve pulled on my family my entire life, because they can’t see past the end of their own noses. When people behave in such a manner, there’s really no talking to them. They desperately want to be right and they believe they are right, so I’m not going to waste the oxygen. I’m too good a person, too smart, and far too sharp to be lured into such nonsense. If it had gone unmentioned to me, I certainly wouldn’t be writing about it so honestly or passionately, but since it became an issue via negative words said to and about me, the truth is, I’ve never liked these people. Just because we’re related does not mean we have to have a relationship. They’ve had their opportunities and you only get so many chances with me. When I’m done, I’m truly done. I don’t wish any ill on them, I just want to live my life without them discussing me behind my back. Is that unfair? Honestly, I don’t care if it is.

At the beginning and end of each day, I would prefer to be known as my Grandparent’s ONLY Granddaughter, my parents’ ONLY daughter, my brother’s ONLY sister, and my Aunt’s ONLY niece. I am many things, but my Grandparents and parents live deeply within me and I try to honor them by being the person I was raised to be. None of them were perfect, but they taught me things that are immensely valuable. Manners, decency, common sense, and never being afraid to use my voice, for it is a deadly, powerful instrument.

Every time I am stressed or working too hard, I hear my Grandmother say “Sit up straight. Posture is everything.” I have perfect posture because she never allowed me to slouch. When I look in the mirror at my back, I think of her as the backbone of the family, because even though she was passive and kind, she helped raise me and deserves that acknowledgment. I was my Grandfather’s everything. Losing him shaped a lot of my world, but I will never forget a moment we spent together or the things he taught me. He lived each day to the fullest. I wish I had the ability to do the same, but maybe having Fibromyalgia is a mixed blessing in disguise. My parents were polar opposites who would have been better off as friends, but I am their daughter and I will not allow them to be disrespected in death as they were in life. If you disrespect them and you also disrespect me, you can basically kiss your ass goodbye. I don’t have the time, patience, or inclination to hold a grudge, but once I’ve made a decision, that’s it. Forgiveness isn’t always an option.

I often think my family dynamic is outrageously offensive, and then I hear other people’s stories and I find out how tame mine is in comparison, which is actually a scary thought.

Here’s hoping none of you ever have to deal with narcissistic family members who think YOU’RE some kind of she-devil because you lack the ability to be fake. No one needs that kind of drama!

copyright © 2016 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

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My Mom’s favorite flower. Unfortunately, they’re no longer in bloom, but they smelled so nice when they were.

Your Obstacles

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I’m going through something awful at the moment; I’d never wish this on another human-being because it is horrible and torturous. There’s no one reliable for me to turn to for help. The person I thought I could depend on has progressively become unreliable, as they so often say one thing and do another, and because of that, I feel like a complete and utter failure. I’ve trusted in them and their lies, in their idea of “love”, and while I feel immense gratitude in many respects, I don’t like being told a bullshit story when I’m in trouble and/or suffering.

I’d love to say “This is just another challenge and I can rise above this.”, but the truth is, the pain is destroying me. Knowing that I will either succeed or lose everything is killing every last bit of hope within me.

Only two people know what’s going on. I’m legitimately afraid to go to anyone else for help of this magnitude. I cannot bear the thought of more excuses or being turned away again, especially in a time of crisis. I cannot tolerate feeling so jaded by the behavior of others through lies.

The past few years has genuinely taught me who my friends and family truly are. So, in the face of the nightmare I am trying to handle this week, I don’t have much to offer here. I’m devoid of so much I’d normally be able to say, or want to share. It’s rare for me to feel so emotionally broken, but that’s precisely where I am at this moment.

I pray I’ll have better news at the end of the week. If I don’t, I honestly don’t know if I’ll be able to continue on here.

Certain things/people/situations shouldn’t bring us to our knees, but they so often do. I pray no one else ever has to go through what I am.

When We Turn Around

“When we turn around & come face to face with our destiny, we discover that words (spoken) are not enough. I know so many people who are brilliant speakers but are quite incapable of practicing what they preach. It’s one thing to describe a situation & quite another to experience it.

I realized a long time ago that a warrior in search of his dream must take his inspiration from what he actually does & not from what he imagines himself doing.” ―Paulo Coelho

An Open Letter to People Without Migraine

An Open Letter to People Without Migraine

My migraines are a little different, with more symptoms, but after being called “a brat” yesterday because I was sick and the other person refused to see it, I feel like this is important to share with others. I’m an adult and a human-being and when I have a migraine, I can’t always think straight. Understand that, respect it, or fuck off!

Kinder To Myself

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I hope everyone is having a wonderful week and that you’re all taking brief moments for yourself in order to re-group and center yourselves before the upcoming weekend.

This past weekend was relatively full, but I didn’t get any time to zone out and do things I truly enjoy. I feel as though I have forgotten a lot of what I do enjoy because my life has been a daily battle for so long. I promise to set aside some time for myself soon where I am able to focus solely on me, and nothing else. I need a break, and preferably this time, I’d prefer it to not be a bone. 😦 My toe is healing really well, thankfully. I spent 4 1/2 days off of it as much as possible, using ice regularly. I was immensely relieved when the swelling went down for good. I was able to walk over the weekend with little to no pain, so I feel incredibly blessed. Unfortunately, everything else hurts. That’s not pleasant in the least, but thank G-d for small favors.

The whole point of doing something for yourself, even if that means taking a few hours to breathe fresh air and commune with your own thoughts in a neutral setting, is crucial so that you don’t remain trapped in your own head, which is quite easily a prison of your own making. 😦 I’m an extremely internalized person, so when I feel trapped in any way, it doesn’t encourage me to communicate with people. But being able to escape means I get to be myself, to engage with others, and remind myself that the negativity thrown at me is untrue. It helps put me back into the correct perspective because the person who knows me best is me, and unfortunately, I take a lot of things to heart when I shouldn’t. I cannot and will not spend my days being insulted by anyone, regardless of who they think they are. There are limits and boundaries to what I will tolerate. I am making big changes in my life and while the end result make shock some people and upset others, I have to do what is right for me. I have to, for the first time in my life, be selfish and prioritize myself. It’s a slow process because it goes against who I am, but I will get there. I will succeed.

It will officially be summer next week and this is generally the time of year when I go into full-out hibernation mode, only leaving the house to quickly run errands in air-conditioned settings and then return. If you’re not photosensitive and don’t suffer from heat sensitivity, consider yourself incredibly lucky. I cannot be outside for long periods of time in any type of heat. Basically, if it’s over 70 degrees and there’s no breeze and the humidity is 50% or higher, I will get sick. It drains my life force, dehydrates me almost instantly, and leaves me weak and ill. I’m not an outdoorsy type by any stretch of the imagination. If it’s not somewhere between 40-68 degrees, I am subjecting myself to all sorts of crazy things that I’ve been dealing with for quite some time. Fibromyalgia has definitely changed how I function and seeing as how I also suffer from migraines, I feel like I have to travel even 20 minutes away with a medicinal arsenal. For me, the sun and the heat and humidity are immensely evil.

As I sit here, I am trying to cope with a migraine I’ve had for three days. It’s never “just a migraine” either. My entire head and neck hurt like hell. The only reason I can type is because my eyes aren’t bothering me at the moment, but I suspect that’s next. I am hoping my most recent dose of pain reliever does SOMETHING to alleviate some of this because while it IS working, it’s only giving me short bursts of relief. I legitimately need it to rain so that I can potentially feel better. As of this moment, it’s not scheduled to rain at all for the next ten days. The last thing I want to do is suffer a full week like this. If it seems as though my migraines have worsened since my move, that would be 100% correct. They have increased by over 60% and based on my research, it is due to my proximity to the ocean. In all fairness, when I lived further inland, they were much more intense pain-wise and they were certainly chronic, that hasn’t changed, but I didn’t begin tracking them until this past September, so it’s not fair to blame location alone. But in all honesty, no one wants to lose so many days to horrific headaches that do not respond to medication or alternative treatments. When you’ve tried everything, you eventually lose your patience. I don’t have a lot of patience to begin with, so whatever I did have in regard to my migraines died a long time ago. I know that’s not the greatest attitude to have, but inside that attitude are tiny shreds of hope that the next treatment, and I already know what it will be, will work. It’s legitimately my last hope unless something else comes up with a higher success rate sometime this year.

Suffering from migraines is unpredictable. People don’t understand why I say “no” to invitations, but it’s usually because I never know if I’ll get slammed with a migraine and be sick. In a room full of 50+ people, it’s bound to happen. I’m wise enough to avoid my major triggers as much as possible, but some days I simply want to live my life as though they don’t exist.

Tomorrow, I am going to attempt to do just that. I hope that it’s enjoyable for me because I’ve spent far too many days, weeks, and weekends locked up, hiding from the sun and all stimuli, because hearing the radio or even just someone’s voice, makes me sick to death. I keep the door cracked for Cat and Kitten because they like to check on me, but even just a crack of noise is too much when I’m this sick. I wish people understood that and were able to be more respectful. C’est la vie. I cannot expect out of others what I grant, but I’m tired of repeating myself.

In case I am silent this weekend, I wish all of my subscribing fathers a Happy Father’s Day. I lost my father almost nine years ago and it’s hard for me to discuss it because in my family, Father’s Day wasn’t as big a deal as Mother’s Day was. However, there are some truly amazing Dad’s out there and they’re deserving of a day all their own. Especially the few I know who are widowed and raising a child or children solo. It’s a tough job, no matter how you look at it.

I’ll be back as soon as I can. Blessed Be.

copyright © 2016 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.