Realizing That I Cannot Save Them All

So the sperm donor is at it again. The need for sex, sympathy and control is high with him. Sympathy because he comes from a family of abusive right-wing extremists who take what is naturally yours and abuse you for any signs of your independence. (Up to and including smacking me around because I refused to eliminate my mother and sister from my life...and they thought "they are bad influences on you, they teach you to disobey") which of course, he allows, as Mama will occasionally funnel him filthy lucre- er, money. Which of course, it's ok for a "good Christian" to rob from whatever source they choose. When asked why he thinks it's ok to attempt to sleep with teenage girls (against their will) the formulaic answer is that he doesn't have to grow up, he had a tough life. (BOO HOO!) Any woman who gets with him will be warned...repeatedly... because he steals, isolates and physically abuses. And sexually abuses. I still occasionally find myself accidentally repeating things I was told by him, that are detrimental to myself, or casting my eyes down, particularly when a man tells me I'm pretty. I still have a hard time giving hugs... a few manage, some might actually receive the half-hug or an alarmed, squeaked "Hands off the Beth!" I still will go for a man's hand at first meeting... testing for limp handshake, or general untrustworthiness. I gauge the strength, the actions, the behaviors. It takes me a very long time to get close. At one point, and up to about a year ago, I used to be a shaking little jelly if a guy got too close. At the worst point, after being hurt and raped by a friend of his late summer of '08, I could not get closer than 10 feet from a man. This made for awkward dinners. And a really awkward relationship where I actually could not touch the man.
Some people do work on themselves. Attempt to be better. But often, snakes only shed their skin...they remain snakes.
This is behavior done not just to me, but to others, by the same man:
*Will, at the beginning, seem a rather charming but wounded creature. Note though, the eyes stay icy. There is no emotion whatsoever, and he "changes" personality based on the person.
*Will take umbrage at anyone telling an intended mark that they are such, and that he needs to be avoided.The mark will be isolated
*Has been jailed numerous times for harassment. This is his go to. If you say "Well, D. is a bastard" he will attempt to make your life a living hell.
*Mommy NEVER LOVED ME! (Really, avoid this at all costs.)
*Thinks nothing of inviting swingers to play, with or without permission of his "intended". Thinks that a woman waking up to find herself in bed with a strange man and running is hilarious. Rape, he thinks is good for every woman to experience at least once. See, to him, "Forced sex is every woman's fantasy"--- (If this floats your boat, who am I to tell you you're wrong? But this is easily answered with "not so much"
*Showing signs of independence, disobedience, or in any way making him look stupid is going to cause pain.
*Telling him "no" is right out. I know, in the months leading to my surgery, he would get mad because I hurt too much to give him what he "needed". Then he had a friend of his tell me that if I loved him, and weren't a selfish bitch, I'd fuck through the pain or give him a woman who would satisfy his needs until I was healthy.
*Will have friends of his control you when he's not around. Think 3AM phone calls ordering you around and telling you that you need to change your personality, that he doesn't like such-and-such.
*Has burned a Bible and laughed at the natural response to grab it before it burned.
There's more... lots more... and it sounds like absolute pulp fiction.
In short: Control, power, and your self-esteem will suffer. You are not the first. You will not be the last. Crocodile tears are not from emotion. He loves HIMSELF, the way most would love another, or a child. Everyone, to D., is a slave.
SAVE YOURSELF.

A Tough Look at Me

A website did an article on "I'm Single Because..."
Well, let's see...

1)I am generally unhealthy. This can scare off men
2)I get shy when meeting men... often I'll go for a handshake first or attempt to meet them with a lot of sarcastic humor. I'm a big sissy and can put up quite a front.
3)I don't go for "In your face" type sexy... I save my filthiest, and my more aggressive, for the bedroom. And it takes me a while to get there.
4)I'm sometimes awkward in conversation- English is actually difficult for me, and I have to work hard to have a conversation.
5)I hide a few things. It's true.
6)I can't have sex without feeling something for a man. This means... if it's JUST SEX- prepare for pain, because I won't be open for you.
7)I'm still working on my confidence. Admittedly, someone will tell me, that I'm pretty, and it will still shock me.

8) I've become somewhat comfortable with having a lot of friends, but no real intimacy.
9) I still wonder if I'm paying penance for, after a bad relationship, and trying something, with a sweet friend with whom, there was mutual love, and getting scared by it- and telling them they were too good for me. We stayed friends, and attempted a reconciliation. Then they were MIA in Iraq- and then confirmed KIA. So much for that. I broke a heart... as he said, and death intervened before we could fully repair ourselves.
10) I have a lot of nightmares
11) I have an easier time being a "cute friend"... the "Sweet Girl"and/or a "a little doll" to be sweet to, but never really seen as more.
12)I've had guys break up with me because they wanted to "fix" me. I was born with no enamel on my teeth, for example- one guy kept torturing me about it... why else do you think I refuse to smile with my lips open half the time?- and while yes, I'd like to fix that, at present, it's difficult to do so. Don't order me around to do something, if you know I cannot do so on my own power.
13)I have a lot of allergies and food-related issues, as well as a prematurity-related gag reflex. (Say no more, right?) While I'm willing to help, I understand how draining that is.

14)I'm awkward in some ways... balance off, eye hand coordination, etc, and while I know I worked hard to learn, and have tested above 150 in IQ, I feel a little dumb and awkward. Particularly as I have only a basic grasp of math because I taught myself. I also have some meningitis related damage to my brain, affecting my balance and EHC.
You know, something? I have survived a lot though, and I like me. If I'm forever single, I'll be happy with some hand picked friends. I'm a fighter. And when I'm flirted with, or told I'm sexy, sure it flummoxes me, but it's nice. I appreciate all kindnesses, I appreciate an honest person. And, well, there's got to be another oddball out there. And I'll actually attempt a date or two again. I'm rusty though. But I'll figure it out!

Making Grape Juice From Lemons

I’m a little lamb who’s lost in the wood
I know I could, always be good
To one who’ll watch over me
-Someone to Watch Over Me

In these past almost 28 years, I have met wolves a plenty. I've faced a lot of health issues, walked through hell, occasionally with someone on the narrow path next to me, holding a hand- and I cannot thank them enough! I'm facing a yearly issue right now... my kidney apparently attempting to assert its' dominance: "Heeeeeeeeeeeeere's Johnny! And he's MAD!" Same antibiotic, that generally gets added in higher and higher doses that happens when the issues from '06 rear their ugly heads.
This little lamb is...well, tired. I see so many people consistently hurting... and of course, some exhaustion comes from fighting massive kidney infections. And of course, fighting with thirst...thirst... ugh... I always did consider this the last temptation of Christ. Luckily, no one is feeding ME vinegar on a sponge!
But you know, as hard as life gets, being sick, living between two worlds, and really never feeling like I belong to either, like I can't quite make people happy... I am content and thrilled that every time a bad prognosis... I was supposed to die in my first 24 hours for example- has been made, I've beaten it. I got my gut and strength from people who, not realizing I'd used their example, have lauded me for "Making lemonade from the lemons life hands me". But that's no miracle! A miracle is not making lemonade out of the lemons handed. That just needs some sugar, or it's rather piss-poor lemonade. I can, with the help I've gotten, and with faith, make GRAPE JUICE out of lemons. Lordy me, that IS a miracle.
I've faced wolves, as I've said... looked into the eyes excited and gleaming with sadistic glee, looked at the shining fangs and bleeding maws... and have survived.
I have goals I'm slowly achieving, though slowed down some by illness and a small loss in my eye-hand coordination, and while I always am very sad to see the world hurt people over and over, I know, I can give care... and to myself, first.
I am going to make grape juice from my lemons :) This little lamb may occasionally get a bit lost, but I always find my way.

The Rosary Beads

The string barely holds the large beads together, and yet, the large, ornate cross still hangs, heavy against my knuckles
Christ holds the patina of age and mystery, as the large oval beads are slid through my fingers
On string that might have been new in the 60's.
In prayer, in sorrow, in anger, in grief, fingers clutch desperately at bits of wood, metal and string
A rosary that once graced a monk in a habit
"Bring me your tired, your poor your oppressed" may be an accidental motto in life
But as I hold the large, heavy rosary, a little voice, one heard barely, speaks:
"You have faith. And your faith will make you whole".
A string of old beads and a crucifix, a symbol of torture, a symbol of faith in adversity, looks so large against my girlish hands, a crucifix made for a monk, for a girl who tends to live like a monk...

"Your faith will make you whole"
"I am not worthy..." I begin, "But... just say the word, and I shall become whole."
What am I praying for? I begin to wonder as my tendency to over-think comes through.
Relief from recent illness piled upon the chronic illnesses?
Relief for the pain I see so often in others?
Of anger and fear and hatred, and gratitude, too, for living in two separate worlds--- and my inability to completely fit, my discomfort, my tendency to forever swim upstream, and feeling the demons at my heels? My gratitude, my sense of having been blessed, at the same time?
"My child" comes the voice very insistently... "You cannot always stay strong. You have to bend before you break, you have to learn to lean sometime. I give you fire, I give you what you need to teach you. Fire and pressure make a beautiful diamond over time."
And the old rosary glides between my knuckles, the crucifix tap, tap, tapping against the bones.

Fighting With Hello Kidney

Somedays, sleep doesn't quite come as it should. You can be all antibiotic-ed out, as I am, running on cranberry juice, an Exedrine PM, and pure and simple exhaustion. I have a terrible habit... I over think, and sometimes make apologies late into the night, to everything, including the refrigerator, but myself. To those on the list of those I made needless apologies to, and it's longer than my arm... yup, I'm a big schmuck.
Today, I should be exhausted... 3 hours to diagnose a kidney infection (in a sole kidney) after days of limited output and major water-and-cranberry juice input, and then waiting at Target for scripts, dealing with Mom, who is becoming overtaxed by a boyfriend with Parkinson's Disease, and issues stemming from a doctor who screwed with medication doses, causing me to feel a wee bit drunk, and just a lot out of it... I should be pinned to the pillow. Instead, I'm up...and overthinking as I do, becoming awfully enthralled with the side effects of Macrobid... that is... I've never seen so much orange in my life- but hey, I can pee! (And you probably didn't need to know that, but it's sure lovely when you haven't in a few days!) Of course, lately, I've been my schmucky self... must knock that off... I hate it with every part of me. Let it be, Beth, just let it be.
As for the fight with my kidney, well, I suppose I'll take it over the bout with the symptoms of meningitis I had in 'o6. Like a lot of things, say, tuberculosis, there's a penchant for me to feel it, and occasionally exhibit the stiff neck and headache/ exhaustion, and pain from the cold of winter on my ribs, one of which is gone. I just wish Dear Hello Kidney had not decided to act up now... and I hadn't been stubborn before I stopped weeing.
Well, to end, how about a childish joke?
Why did the lobster blush?
Because the sea wee'd.

PS. I am considering theological classes, actually working to be a member of clergy. This would mean that I'd need to become a nun, or undergo a sex change to avoid changing "major religions" or go Episcopalian, all the caffeine, only half the guilt. I am seriously thinking, and don't know if I'll do so or not, it's a lot, and I know many who do not put up with female clergy.

Truth, Justice and the American Way

There's a few tendencies I have, where if I could harness and use them for the power of good, and of course Truth, Justice and the American Way (Cue fanfare), I could probably rule the world. It really hasn't stopped me from trying, however.

I feel everything. I can generally tell you, "Um, yeah, not a good idea", although some things must be learned via experience, while it'll hurt me to grind my teeth and watch a person having to learn tough lessons, it's necessary at times. It's been said people like me might as well have 100 fingers as opposed to 10. While this means I can generally pick out when someone is hurting, it'll also mean I'll feel extreme guilt if I can't help them. One person asked me if it worked for the lottery. Yes, fifty bucks. Now see, if I wanted to try that again, I'd get nil, but if I could use it for that, I'd likely be a wealthy woman. That, and if I could only sell kicks in the ass (It SHOULD be a buyers' market!) would have me rolling in the money. Well, and every guy who ever said the magic "I'm a nice guy..."
Then of course, there's brain to mouth filter. While as of yet, I still manage to say things that I THOUGHT I had written or said clearly, and have them come out in a way that I shock, mystify or am otherwise misunderstood, I also have a terrible habit of, according to some, "Being too honest". (I make some people rather uncomfortable)- odd, because I do actually hold back some. I guess we're all complicated. :-( But my filter is either set LOW, has a hole in it, or else, my frontal lobe decides to take it easy when I'm attempting to get a point across.

And of course, it has come in handy. But I think I have hurt good people with it a time or two.

So Tired Of Being a Good Girl

Sometimes, I get tired of loving, but asexual relationships. Of always being a cute, sweet friend, but never "the girl". I have no illusions that out there, someone waits for me. A girl with constant headaches, scars, who needs to watch every move and facial tic to try to understand a conversation, who will become annoyed by breath down my neck but not pick up the words spoken behind her, who lives in fear of things that most take for granted, is no catch!

I've had a few that I tossed to the curb- for insulting things I could not change "Ethopian gut", "Too many scars", while assuming they had easy access to physical release. Not knowing... if I don't have an emotional connection, if sex were to take place, it could be impossible or painful for all. Here and there, I still recall "You make me need more, you just lay there. You're so into your faith, you don't understand that the rules have changed, no one just has one sexual partner anymore." I remember being forced by a drunk man while people watched. Then getting beaten because I couldn't willingly have sex with him to please someone in a mood to watch someone else have sex. Apparently, I'd ruined his erection and the other guy thought his penis would break from hitting my pelvic bone because he couldn't get in. The three some arranged without my knowledge and my escape after getting tossed out of bed for ruining everything with my reluctance.
Now, today, I want very much to chuck my usual "good girl" ambiance... I can't change ME, not totally, but bring out more of the tiger I like to think I can be. Dress a little sexier, nothing much, actually figure out what I want.

I have no illusions I'll ever be in another relationship as most consider them- I think I'm paying penance for breaking a heart that now, it's too late to go back and fix. ("You're sweet, but honey, I think you're too good for me"...way back when in '03.) So, I'll adore my friends, and if offered a shot to quietly bring out more of me, later, I will... right now I'm working on the nightmares, but wanting to show more confidence, wanting more to be that sweet girl. I'm told I figure in dreams, I get flirted with, but I can never take it seriously. I am a mess. One guy who did want to try something, offered an "easy out" and I took it. I'm not guilty about that. I'm guilty because I think I have yet to quit hiding things, that might allow me to finally release some aggression, because I know that I will lose a lot more if I say any of them. But grief is getting to me too, and I don't know how to get it out. Crying is good, but when I am so close to doing so, the "A good soldier never cries" speech comes back to me, and I suck it in. But I don't want to be a good soldier, or a good girl.