First, I would like to let you all know that my next blog will have a video attachment that isn't a cute/silly slideshow. I want to "introduce" myself to you all and reach out to as many people as possible. The GREAT part is that I won't be reaching out because I have my shit together. I'm a mess. I want to just exist as someone in cyberspace with an opinion and maybe a few facts....yeah...I'll try to work in a few facts : )
So, do I feel helpless? Today. Yes. But not always. I poured my heart out on what I think would be my first VLOG and I ended up talking so long, at some point my computer was like, "Fuck Off! I Quit!" So, its gone and I don't remember what I have updated you guys on and what I haven't. Total internal temper tantrum happening right now.
But, that's not the reason why I feel hopeless. I am going to keep this brief tonight because I will be "speaking" with you guys very soon. I am so excited. You will still be able to click on it right here on Blogger.
I just noticed a typo that I am going to keep on this page. Apparently, I feel helpless and hopeless. Mmmmm kinda. Exactly one week ago I made a lame attempt at suicide and landed myself in a crisis center. I had changed health coverage so I ended up in an new location that scared me and I was going to see another Dr. Total Panic, Manic, insanity breakdown. I must have been somewhat sane because I tried to run out of the building like a screaming banshee woman and then I turned to my 6ft tall wife and yelled, "That Bitch in the glass window probably has the ability to lock the doors by pushing a damn button!" I started laughing and crying and said, "I'm not going to attack her (pointing at tall wife) she can outsmart me!" I just sat down. @mindofmedusa showed up 5 minutes later to comfort hers (me) and forced jokes and laughter upon me until it was my time to get a 2nd opinion....
I wish to speak with you directly about the rest of my damn day there so...To Be Continued (I fucking hate that term)
Ridiculously Yours,
Truthaboutcrazy
Monday, October 31, 2011
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Cheap and Evil Girl
Idiot is the girl who had no idea she was suffering...
As most of you know by now, @mindofmedusa and I are #LLBFF's and have caused a lot of trouble in the workplace when we first met, and even more drama after leaving due to medical reasons. One day we are manic, fun, and social and the next thing we knew we were afraid to leave our homes. Bff's that see each other once every 2 months? Thank you twitter!
Anyways, here is a PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT for any government official who questions the integrity of our rapid downfall or the ASSHATS that were clueless on the fact that we could tough it up and thought we were just having a bad couple of days.
Modern Day AbFab Bitches!
Fuck Off Normals!
As most of you know by now, @mindofmedusa and I are #LLBFF's and have caused a lot of trouble in the workplace when we first met, and even more drama after leaving due to medical reasons. One day we are manic, fun, and social and the next thing we knew we were afraid to leave our homes. Bff's that see each other once every 2 months? Thank you twitter!
Anyways, here is a PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT for any government official who questions the integrity of our rapid downfall or the ASSHATS that were clueless on the fact that we could tough it up and thought we were just having a bad couple of days.
Modern Day AbFab Bitches!
Fuck Off Normals!
Thursday, October 20, 2011
This one is for the ladies...
OR this one is for the men who want a bit more insight on the ladies........
I've noticed that there is a topic we haven't really touched on the topic of PMDD. Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder (PMDD) is a topic that most of us have heard of or know a bit about but I was baffled when I noticed the link between PMDD and its contribution to all types of mental illnesses.
Now, the good news? You will notice that your body will bounce back 1-2 days before your cycle or the day that you start. Also, only 8 - 13% of women have this disorder and more than likely we don't all have it. I found out when I went from working out 4-5 days a week at a healthy weight and eating well to not following my regimen. I haven't been so consistent and my Dr. and I have had several long discussions about this ddisorder. He does not know too many people that have this disorder since only 1 out of 10 of his female patients actually show the signs.
Next, he had me keep a journal about my sleep, emotions and behaviors the week before my cycle. No, I did not keep a journal but I basically logged it in my head and updated him with the information. He knew without a doubt that I had this and I was diagnosed because I observed one very important piece of documentation....MY BLOG. Even though it was a bunch of blah blah blah it painted this visual for me. Twitter actually helped too. I noticed different behaviors depending on the week, it indicated when I was suicidal, and it pointed out when most of my panic attacks occurred. Moving forward, I know this is going to totally help my life, my family (on the bad days), and I hope it helps you too!!!!!
So, if you can relate to a lot of this information provided, you may want to take notice during "that time." You may not just be "dramatic and emotional" such as experience regular PMS (ugh). In addition, another way to confirm PMDD is to get your pituitary gland checked out and your thyroid. The two additional tests can basically confirm if you have this or not.
How can I prevent the symptoms or lower the effects?
fascinating regards,
Truthaboutcrazy
I've noticed that there is a topic we haven't really touched on the topic of PMDD. Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder (PMDD) is a topic that most of us have heard of or know a bit about but I was baffled when I noticed the link between PMDD and its contribution to all types of mental illnesses.
- PMDD causes depression; however, if you have already been diagnosed with depression or any mental disease or disorder it worsens the symptoms.
- In addition, it causes extreme disinterest in daily activities, out of control behavior, binge eating, and more importantly SUICIDAL tendencies during the last part of the menstrual cycle.
- Irritability, Extreme Anxiety, and SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder) are additional factors that are ELEVATED for those diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder (I or II), Depression, Schizophrenia, Multiple Personality Disorder, Borderline Personality Disorder, and ESPECIALLY individuals who suffer from a mental illness and INSOMNIA.
- The complete sleep cycle is impacted by PMDD. It may be insomnia BUT it may also have the opposite effect...extended periods of sleep and when you are actually awake you feel like a slug.
Now, the good news? You will notice that your body will bounce back 1-2 days before your cycle or the day that you start. Also, only 8 - 13% of women have this disorder and more than likely we don't all have it. I found out when I went from working out 4-5 days a week at a healthy weight and eating well to not following my regimen. I haven't been so consistent and my Dr. and I have had several long discussions about this ddisorder. He does not know too many people that have this disorder since only 1 out of 10 of his female patients actually show the signs.
Next, he had me keep a journal about my sleep, emotions and behaviors the week before my cycle. No, I did not keep a journal but I basically logged it in my head and updated him with the information. He knew without a doubt that I had this and I was diagnosed because I observed one very important piece of documentation....MY BLOG. Even though it was a bunch of blah blah blah it painted this visual for me. Twitter actually helped too. I noticed different behaviors depending on the week, it indicated when I was suicidal, and it pointed out when most of my panic attacks occurred. Moving forward, I know this is going to totally help my life, my family (on the bad days), and I hope it helps you too!!!!!
So, if you can relate to a lot of this information provided, you may want to take notice during "that time." You may not just be "dramatic and emotional" such as experience regular PMS (ugh). In addition, another way to confirm PMDD is to get your pituitary gland checked out and your thyroid. The two additional tests can basically confirm if you have this or not.
How can I prevent the symptoms or lower the effects?
- Take extra calcium, magnesium, B6 and B12 vitamin supplements the week before and the week of your cycle.
- exercise...even if it is going for a few simple walks (those help with damn cramps anyways).
- Drink your tea and get plenty of antioxidants.
- cut down on alcohol and caffeine (ewww yeah right).
- Birth Control may help
- Diuretics (that one surprised me)
fascinating regards,
Truthaboutcrazy
Saturday, October 15, 2011
Xanax (benzos)
I remember when one of you made it all better;
and the promises made to change my life.
I remember when my head started swimming,
And I needed you to stay alive.
I just needed one.
and now it is five.
My blood crawls with rage if I don't have you on time.
What have you done?
I didn't even want you,
I didn't want to feel this way.
What have you done?
I didn't even need you,
just wanted the hurt to go away.
I remember when I called you my savior
Now I hate every piece of you.
I remember when heartache was a daily routine;
and the day I sought after you.
What have you done?
I didn't even want you,
I didn't even want to feel this way.
What have you done?
I didn't even need you,
just wanted the hurt to go away
And so...
I needed you after all,
I didn't really want to fall.
My body craves you after all.
I didn't really want to fall.
But I needed you after all...
(Sigh....)
I remember when heartache was a daily routine;
and the day I sought after you.
and the promises made to change my life.
I remember when my head started swimming,
And I needed you to stay alive.
I just needed one.
and now it is five.
My blood crawls with rage if I don't have you on time.
What have you done?
I didn't even want you,
I didn't want to feel this way.
What have you done?
I didn't even need you,
just wanted the hurt to go away.
I remember when I called you my savior
Now I hate every piece of you.
I remember when heartache was a daily routine;
and the day I sought after you.
What have you done?
I didn't even want you,
I didn't even want to feel this way.
What have you done?
I didn't even need you,
just wanted the hurt to go away
And so...
I needed you after all,
I didn't really want to fall.
My body craves you after all.
I didn't really want to fall.
But I needed you after all...
(Sigh....)
I remember when heartache was a daily routine;
and the day I sought after you.
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Bastard
:::::: "I can't breath! Please don't kill me! I'm pregnant!!"
The pillow is lifted off my face...eyes the size of marbles.....
Suddenly, my underwear is on the bed and he has scissors. He is cutting the crotch out of all of my underwear except for a few matronly ones and throws them at me. I'm dizzy.
I start to scream. I'm called a fat slut. I feel a blunt object in the back of my head and then...lights out
He's paranoid again. (a fucking vicious cycle) ::::::::::
Bastard!
I went out on a limb after being gay since I was 12 and decided to make an attempt to conform to society by jumping into a heterosexual relationship. 5 months later I was pregnant. I know it sounds strange but after his father begged me for a grandchild, he eventually got his wish. Everyone was so damn excited. I was petrified and happy at the same time. In the back of my mind I questioned myself on my decision to procreate with the father. I went through a checklist and decided that it could have been worse. Home, Car, Job...yeah...we'd be fine.
I started to get really excited. Morning sickness was a bitch but I dealt with it. I began to read every baby book known to man to make sure I was doing everything right. A week later, there was an accident. I was called to the hospital. My son's father had lost 3 fingers in a work accident. It was tough. He had phantom limb syndrome and was in so much pain. But the worst? He was prescribed Oxycontin (not Oxycodone) for the pain. I was all for it at first...I mean he lost part of his hand. What I didn't know was that he was secretly an addict...not just pills...everything your brain can wrap itself around...he did.
Bastard!
He started chewing the pills up and taking too many. Then he went to the Dr. for back pain and he was doing what we call "Dr. Shopping." The pills were pouring in from every direction. He sold a few to buy other drugs too. I slowly realized I never knew his dark side.
The abuse began when I was 4 months pregnant. I was knocked down so hard I thought the baby was hurt. I was treated like shit until one day we were pulled over and I found out that he had an ACTIVE warrant out for his arrest? Who is this person? Once I found out, his paranoia got so bad he locked me in a room the size of a closet and only allowed to come out to use the bathroom or ask for a meal. Was this the same person? He was taken away to jail a few weeks later when they busted him for dealing drugs to an undercover officer. It wasn't until a month before the baby arrived (early) that he was released. He seamed much calmer and wanted to straighten up. I told him it was his second chance and I will leave if it happens again. I meant it. The baby arrived, and it only took 4 months. He threw me out of a car and since my only family member I had was out of town until the next day I asked to drive and suggested that he relax (didn't know what to say). I forced him to apologize and went home, all banged up to hell, and went to bed. The next day he threw a very large hard toy at my head and I was knocked out again. Angrily, I gathered my stuff and went to work. What he didn't know that I had managed to keep part of my paychecks away from him and was setting up the perfect time to leave.
Sometimes there isn't a perfect time....
Bastard
At the end of my shift I couldn't find my car. I reported it to the security guard and requested a call to the police. Before my dad landed from the airport, got my hysterical message, and made it to my work I had been sitting outside crying for at least an hour. Right before Dad arrived I received a creepy phone call, "I took the car. I put the baby in a Taxi without a car seat, then I called a locksmith, and I found your hidden ATM card. I took all of the money out of your account and took the baby to go buy Crack. Whatcha gonna do about it BITCH?
*Click* The phone goes dead and at this point I am hyperventilating and having somewhat of an outer body experience freak out.
Bastard
::::Fast Forward again::::
The police met Dad, me, and his wife in a separate car at a local clothing store. We came up with a plan to just raid the home. The house that I had decorated, painted, and made a beautiful place for a baby. But that house was not where we were meant to be. We were meant to be safe (not like punching bags). My son was still so tiny. So in 45 minutes we bagged up all that we could and bolted while the cops climbed under the house to catch him....he escaped. It wasn't until many months later that he was locked up for a year and a half. By that time I was able to establish a life for myself and my son.
He moved on after jail as well, got married, had another son, etc. But old habits die hard!
Now: He has no relationship with my son. My son is 7 now. No more Christmas or birthday calls...no letters. My son told me one day he thought I was worthless. I can't believe my kid felt that way let alone articulate it. My poor sweet baby...I had to think fast....
I told him that his dad was sick. I told him he was gone for 90 days to get medical attention and I told him that when he hides in the bathroom he was "getting" sick. I stopped all visits immediately. I found out there was dog feces, a lack of food, and no bed for my son to sleep on. I really thought that rehab was his rock bottom.
Nope.
Vicious cycle.
Guess what? Bastard
Now he has a warrant for his arrest. Sound familiar? My son doesn't know. It's irrelevant.
He is using again. EVERYTHING. Dirty needles, meth, coke, crack, methadone, heroin, you name it and he is on it. Completely wreckless and living in his damn car. A few days went by and kiddo asked about his dad daily. No phone call. After a few weeks he began to ask if he would receive a letter of some sort and after months, he doesn't ask at all. In fact, he cringes if someone brings it up and changes the subject. He is over the moon to say with confidence, "I have a mommy #1 and a mommy #2." Lovely!
Tears of pain. Tears of joy. Tears of mental anguish. Tears of elation. But not one tear was shed over meeting my son's father. Sometimes you endure pain to receive a blessing. A smart, witty, blessing.
So there we have it.
My child.........................is......................a...........bastard.
Thankfully yours,
Truthaboutcrazy
The pillow is lifted off my face...eyes the size of marbles.....
Suddenly, my underwear is on the bed and he has scissors. He is cutting the crotch out of all of my underwear except for a few matronly ones and throws them at me. I'm dizzy.
I start to scream. I'm called a fat slut. I feel a blunt object in the back of my head and then...lights out
He's paranoid again. (a fucking vicious cycle) ::::::::::
Bastard!
I went out on a limb after being gay since I was 12 and decided to make an attempt to conform to society by jumping into a heterosexual relationship. 5 months later I was pregnant. I know it sounds strange but after his father begged me for a grandchild, he eventually got his wish. Everyone was so damn excited. I was petrified and happy at the same time. In the back of my mind I questioned myself on my decision to procreate with the father. I went through a checklist and decided that it could have been worse. Home, Car, Job...yeah...we'd be fine.
I started to get really excited. Morning sickness was a bitch but I dealt with it. I began to read every baby book known to man to make sure I was doing everything right. A week later, there was an accident. I was called to the hospital. My son's father had lost 3 fingers in a work accident. It was tough. He had phantom limb syndrome and was in so much pain. But the worst? He was prescribed Oxycontin (not Oxycodone) for the pain. I was all for it at first...I mean he lost part of his hand. What I didn't know was that he was secretly an addict...not just pills...everything your brain can wrap itself around...he did.
Bastard!
He started chewing the pills up and taking too many. Then he went to the Dr. for back pain and he was doing what we call "Dr. Shopping." The pills were pouring in from every direction. He sold a few to buy other drugs too. I slowly realized I never knew his dark side.
The abuse began when I was 4 months pregnant. I was knocked down so hard I thought the baby was hurt. I was treated like shit until one day we were pulled over and I found out that he had an ACTIVE warrant out for his arrest? Who is this person? Once I found out, his paranoia got so bad he locked me in a room the size of a closet and only allowed to come out to use the bathroom or ask for a meal. Was this the same person? He was taken away to jail a few weeks later when they busted him for dealing drugs to an undercover officer. It wasn't until a month before the baby arrived (early) that he was released. He seamed much calmer and wanted to straighten up. I told him it was his second chance and I will leave if it happens again. I meant it. The baby arrived, and it only took 4 months. He threw me out of a car and since my only family member I had was out of town until the next day I asked to drive and suggested that he relax (didn't know what to say). I forced him to apologize and went home, all banged up to hell, and went to bed. The next day he threw a very large hard toy at my head and I was knocked out again. Angrily, I gathered my stuff and went to work. What he didn't know that I had managed to keep part of my paychecks away from him and was setting up the perfect time to leave.
Sometimes there isn't a perfect time....
Bastard
At the end of my shift I couldn't find my car. I reported it to the security guard and requested a call to the police. Before my dad landed from the airport, got my hysterical message, and made it to my work I had been sitting outside crying for at least an hour. Right before Dad arrived I received a creepy phone call, "I took the car. I put the baby in a Taxi without a car seat, then I called a locksmith, and I found your hidden ATM card. I took all of the money out of your account and took the baby to go buy Crack. Whatcha gonna do about it BITCH?
*Click* The phone goes dead and at this point I am hyperventilating and having somewhat of an outer body experience freak out.
Bastard
::::Fast Forward again::::
The police met Dad, me, and his wife in a separate car at a local clothing store. We came up with a plan to just raid the home. The house that I had decorated, painted, and made a beautiful place for a baby. But that house was not where we were meant to be. We were meant to be safe (not like punching bags). My son was still so tiny. So in 45 minutes we bagged up all that we could and bolted while the cops climbed under the house to catch him....he escaped. It wasn't until many months later that he was locked up for a year and a half. By that time I was able to establish a life for myself and my son.
He moved on after jail as well, got married, had another son, etc. But old habits die hard!
Now: He has no relationship with my son. My son is 7 now. No more Christmas or birthday calls...no letters. My son told me one day he thought I was worthless. I can't believe my kid felt that way let alone articulate it. My poor sweet baby...I had to think fast....
I told him that his dad was sick. I told him he was gone for 90 days to get medical attention and I told him that when he hides in the bathroom he was "getting" sick. I stopped all visits immediately. I found out there was dog feces, a lack of food, and no bed for my son to sleep on. I really thought that rehab was his rock bottom.
Nope.
Vicious cycle.
Guess what? Bastard
Now he has a warrant for his arrest. Sound familiar? My son doesn't know. It's irrelevant.
He is using again. EVERYTHING. Dirty needles, meth, coke, crack, methadone, heroin, you name it and he is on it. Completely wreckless and living in his damn car. A few days went by and kiddo asked about his dad daily. No phone call. After a few weeks he began to ask if he would receive a letter of some sort and after months, he doesn't ask at all. In fact, he cringes if someone brings it up and changes the subject. He is over the moon to say with confidence, "I have a mommy #1 and a mommy #2." Lovely!
Tears of pain. Tears of joy. Tears of mental anguish. Tears of elation. But not one tear was shed over meeting my son's father. Sometimes you endure pain to receive a blessing. A smart, witty, blessing.
So there we have it.
My child.........................is......................a...........bastard.
Thankfully yours,
Truthaboutcrazy
Sunday, October 2, 2011
HATE
I don't have to seek out drama...it always finds me. (haha...whatever) *rolls eyes*
(2 days later and I still shudder from the pain)
Quietly, I sneak into the pub a few minutes late for a laid back night of poker, beer, and meaningless conversation. An even tempered acquaintance of mine who only knows a bit about my illness, invited me to the game.
I've been there before...no issues.
What the people I play cards with don't know (and I don't expect them to), is that a shower, an outfit, makeup, a benzo to calm me down, dinner made for the kiddo, and babysitter are required for me to leave the house.
Then, I have to make it past the door. (yikes!)
So, I actually accomplish the previously mentioned. I get into the car (it is still twilight). I pull out of the driveway and anxiety smacks me in the face. I'm already in the car, I know the drill, just drive. With every curve and every hill I hold my breath. BUT, I know exactly where I am going (I tell myself that every time I start to freak out). I'm late by only a few minutes so its cool.
I arrive. Time for beer, talking smack, and playin' poker. I wave hello to my friend and we start to play. Everyone is having a good time. Just like any other Texas Hold'em tournament, as people get knocked out the tables diminish and people shift around. Someone, with a slightly familiar face, joins our table. Hey! we all say and without skipping a beat, we deal him in, and the game continues on.
By this time we have all built a slight rapport and a nice little buzz from the booze. New Dude, tries to play catch up with the rapport building and takes a slight jab at me. (Someone else) asked me if my husband was playing cards that night too.
Side note: I am not embarrassed about being GAY! In fact, we are the type of couple that goes about are business just like anyone else whether we are in the store or at home; however, drunk guys ask 500 billion questions about lesbians. The conversation takes forever! So, Just for one night. I wanted to blend in with everyone else and just relax:::::::::::
He could tell that I smoothly answered the question with, "This is my night out. Its healthy to be in a relationship if each person has a bit of their own thing occasionally."
IMMEDIATELY: He jumps in and said NO, that guy meant to say, "How is your wife?" I quickly looked at a tough dude at the table and back at him and say, "hahahaha you are so silly I didn't hear half of whats going on...lets talk later." Smiling, I eventually finished my time in the game and walked away.
Round 2: 30 minutes later. I have time for a snack and to check on the baseball game and then sign in and play. I sit at a different table than that little TWIT. While playing I overhear someone say, "I hate when that guy is here...hopefully he leaves early...he's already been kicked out twice."
I remain cautious and carefully choose my next table....Eventually, the players diminish and he ends up NEXT TO ME!!! I begin to start kicking butt and I have a good chance of winning; however, TWIT continues to get drunk, obnoxious, and just plain ridiculous. He jabs at a few others (honestly he held his liquor well).
He then turns to me and starts saying, "Did you and your wife split up...what is going on?"
At this point I just decide to be very honest but speak quietly. I said to him, "I just want a day to blend in and take a break from all the Lesbian hype. The questions, the jokes, the...." HE CUTS ME OFF
It flips, and he decides to start mocking me. The attack begins when someone asked him if he served in the armed forces for our country. (He still does) He says, "Yeah, but I got kicked out for slowly lubing up my body in the morning and prancing around in rainbow underwear." (Glaring at me the whole time). I said, "that sucks." ::::I don't want to egg him on and it was a lame joke::::
No one laughs, kind of gets uncomfortable, and blows it off. Obviously, he sees that AGAIN he is not the damn center of attention. He slowly whispers in my ear, "What's wrong with your vagina? Is it damaged or retarded? Whats wrong with you that makes you want a woman?"
I cannot help to look at him with disgust (looking back he was craving that).
It continues, "You're embarrassed by her, that's why she isn't here." I shake my head and roll my eyes. "Gay people are so queer."
Now remember, no one at the table really knows what the hells is going on so one guy speaks up and says, "I thought you said something about getting kicked out of the Navy....." He cuts him off and yells, "Are we playing a game or what?!" While the cards are being dealt he says, "How do you know that friend of yours here...you guys would make a great FUCK couple." I told him that we used to work together and that he is friends with a few of my friends.
I block him out for about 20 minutes and stare straight at the game. I am focused, trying, to pay for my tab, and, well shit I love poker and that is why I drove there! In my head I think THIS IS MY NIGHT some stupid guy who possibly hates gays is not going to ruin it. I have never let it stop me before...
Out of nowhere I feel warm breathe on my ear...steamy...very close...I hear, "What's your problem lady queer? Can't take the heat. Why are you being so cold?"
I'm uncomfortable. 1 tear streams down my eye, lips pursed, I continue to ignore him. Giving him what he wants won't work. For the next ten minutes I fight back the "ugly cry." He is screaming at a girl that he calls his wife and says, "I'm almost sober bitch, get me a shot!" He waits for her to leave and turns to me again and says, "PUSSY!" The "P" produced a large amount of saliva as he lunged at me and it landed on my ear. He begins to laugh loudly. Another tear streams from the other eye...at this point I really thought someone would notice...the guys at the table don't know if we are playing or if he is being mean to me.
Someone gets up and grabs the manager and said, "There's a girl crying...I'm not sure why." The manager said she would be back in a few minutes. After all, crying drunk women are a dime a dozen. I fold my hand and get up from the table and run to a different room to tell my friend that I really don't want to start trouble but I am beginning to get angry and I needed him to back me up...he saw the tears and went over to the guy and had words. He said it was OK to go back and the guy was going to apologize for being disorderly and his poor judgement.
There is no apology. He just yells, "Everyone I'm done I'm done I'm done....FOR REAL" He stops talking so I said I appreciate the peace and I am fine as long as nothing continues. The other folks and I begin to laugh and carry on. He can't stay quiet any longer and looks at me and snaps, "Queer! Bitch! You stupid slut. You have to run and tell your friend BULLSHIT! I never did anything except sit here and mind my own business! (ummm no)
He spat on me again and called me a bitch right when the Manager came to the table and asked what was wrong. I told her I didn't want to start any problems and that I had to leave. She asked again and I become faint and before I take the easy route and fall. I run out of the bar like someone that stole something. Hysterically crying and shouting its not fair.
The Bouncer tried to stop me from crying. I stopped for him. Told him. He said that spitting and 2 hours of harassment was a hate crime and asked me if I wanted to call the police. I said I just want to go home (screechy cry) and I grab the hand rail. A witness came out and stated he didn't know what was going on because he didn't know why the guy was yelling to begin with and thought he was just being a weirdo saying stuff that didn't make sense. I turn to the bouncer and say, "I'm leaving now to call my partner."
It took me 30 minutes to collect myself and leave the parking lot. Yes, I cry a lot. But I was actually in shock. Did I really get saliva all over the side of my face and called every name in the book. I grabbed a tissue and wiped the right side of my face...
Sure enough..........It did happen.
::::::::I would like to say that although I wasn't punched or kicked, I had a small taste of a hate crime. My heart goes out to all of you that have experienced much worse for being GAY. I have never felt more disgusting and in need of shower since the day I was raped. VICTIMS (no matter what kind) should never have to be forced to feel disgusting because someone else hurt you mentally o physically. We must stand tall and push through it!:::::::
I'm glad I came home to my wife and her cousin. I cannot say with confidence that I wouldn't have beat the shit out of myself that night, or worse, without the support.
Say NO to Hate,
Truthaboutcrazy
(2 days later and I still shudder from the pain)
Quietly, I sneak into the pub a few minutes late for a laid back night of poker, beer, and meaningless conversation. An even tempered acquaintance of mine who only knows a bit about my illness, invited me to the game.
I've been there before...no issues.
What the people I play cards with don't know (and I don't expect them to), is that a shower, an outfit, makeup, a benzo to calm me down, dinner made for the kiddo, and babysitter are required for me to leave the house.
Then, I have to make it past the door. (yikes!)
So, I actually accomplish the previously mentioned. I get into the car (it is still twilight). I pull out of the driveway and anxiety smacks me in the face. I'm already in the car, I know the drill, just drive. With every curve and every hill I hold my breath. BUT, I know exactly where I am going (I tell myself that every time I start to freak out). I'm late by only a few minutes so its cool.
I arrive. Time for beer, talking smack, and playin' poker. I wave hello to my friend and we start to play. Everyone is having a good time. Just like any other Texas Hold'em tournament, as people get knocked out the tables diminish and people shift around. Someone, with a slightly familiar face, joins our table. Hey! we all say and without skipping a beat, we deal him in, and the game continues on.
By this time we have all built a slight rapport and a nice little buzz from the booze. New Dude, tries to play catch up with the rapport building and takes a slight jab at me. (Someone else) asked me if my husband was playing cards that night too.
Side note: I am not embarrassed about being GAY! In fact, we are the type of couple that goes about are business just like anyone else whether we are in the store or at home; however, drunk guys ask 500 billion questions about lesbians. The conversation takes forever! So, Just for one night. I wanted to blend in with everyone else and just relax:::::::::::
He could tell that I smoothly answered the question with, "This is my night out. Its healthy to be in a relationship if each person has a bit of their own thing occasionally."
IMMEDIATELY: He jumps in and said NO, that guy meant to say, "How is your wife?" I quickly looked at a tough dude at the table and back at him and say, "hahahaha you are so silly I didn't hear half of whats going on...lets talk later." Smiling, I eventually finished my time in the game and walked away.
Round 2: 30 minutes later. I have time for a snack and to check on the baseball game and then sign in and play. I sit at a different table than that little TWIT. While playing I overhear someone say, "I hate when that guy is here...hopefully he leaves early...he's already been kicked out twice."
I remain cautious and carefully choose my next table....Eventually, the players diminish and he ends up NEXT TO ME!!! I begin to start kicking butt and I have a good chance of winning; however, TWIT continues to get drunk, obnoxious, and just plain ridiculous. He jabs at a few others (honestly he held his liquor well).
He then turns to me and starts saying, "Did you and your wife split up...what is going on?"
At this point I just decide to be very honest but speak quietly. I said to him, "I just want a day to blend in and take a break from all the Lesbian hype. The questions, the jokes, the...." HE CUTS ME OFF
It flips, and he decides to start mocking me. The attack begins when someone asked him if he served in the armed forces for our country. (He still does) He says, "Yeah, but I got kicked out for slowly lubing up my body in the morning and prancing around in rainbow underwear." (Glaring at me the whole time). I said, "that sucks." ::::I don't want to egg him on and it was a lame joke::::
No one laughs, kind of gets uncomfortable, and blows it off. Obviously, he sees that AGAIN he is not the damn center of attention. He slowly whispers in my ear, "What's wrong with your vagina? Is it damaged or retarded? Whats wrong with you that makes you want a woman?"
I cannot help to look at him with disgust (looking back he was craving that).
It continues, "You're embarrassed by her, that's why she isn't here." I shake my head and roll my eyes. "Gay people are so queer."
Now remember, no one at the table really knows what the hells is going on so one guy speaks up and says, "I thought you said something about getting kicked out of the Navy....." He cuts him off and yells, "Are we playing a game or what?!" While the cards are being dealt he says, "How do you know that friend of yours here...you guys would make a great FUCK couple." I told him that we used to work together and that he is friends with a few of my friends.
I block him out for about 20 minutes and stare straight at the game. I am focused, trying, to pay for my tab, and, well shit I love poker and that is why I drove there! In my head I think THIS IS MY NIGHT some stupid guy who possibly hates gays is not going to ruin it. I have never let it stop me before...
Out of nowhere I feel warm breathe on my ear...steamy...very close...I hear, "What's your problem lady queer? Can't take the heat. Why are you being so cold?"
I'm uncomfortable. 1 tear streams down my eye, lips pursed, I continue to ignore him. Giving him what he wants won't work. For the next ten minutes I fight back the "ugly cry." He is screaming at a girl that he calls his wife and says, "I'm almost sober bitch, get me a shot!" He waits for her to leave and turns to me again and says, "PUSSY!" The "P" produced a large amount of saliva as he lunged at me and it landed on my ear. He begins to laugh loudly. Another tear streams from the other eye...at this point I really thought someone would notice...the guys at the table don't know if we are playing or if he is being mean to me.
Someone gets up and grabs the manager and said, "There's a girl crying...I'm not sure why." The manager said she would be back in a few minutes. After all, crying drunk women are a dime a dozen. I fold my hand and get up from the table and run to a different room to tell my friend that I really don't want to start trouble but I am beginning to get angry and I needed him to back me up...he saw the tears and went over to the guy and had words. He said it was OK to go back and the guy was going to apologize for being disorderly and his poor judgement.
There is no apology. He just yells, "Everyone I'm done I'm done I'm done....FOR REAL" He stops talking so I said I appreciate the peace and I am fine as long as nothing continues. The other folks and I begin to laugh and carry on. He can't stay quiet any longer and looks at me and snaps, "Queer! Bitch! You stupid slut. You have to run and tell your friend BULLSHIT! I never did anything except sit here and mind my own business! (ummm no)
He spat on me again and called me a bitch right when the Manager came to the table and asked what was wrong. I told her I didn't want to start any problems and that I had to leave. She asked again and I become faint and before I take the easy route and fall. I run out of the bar like someone that stole something. Hysterically crying and shouting its not fair.
The Bouncer tried to stop me from crying. I stopped for him. Told him. He said that spitting and 2 hours of harassment was a hate crime and asked me if I wanted to call the police. I said I just want to go home (screechy cry) and I grab the hand rail. A witness came out and stated he didn't know what was going on because he didn't know why the guy was yelling to begin with and thought he was just being a weirdo saying stuff that didn't make sense. I turn to the bouncer and say, "I'm leaving now to call my partner."
It took me 30 minutes to collect myself and leave the parking lot. Yes, I cry a lot. But I was actually in shock. Did I really get saliva all over the side of my face and called every name in the book. I grabbed a tissue and wiped the right side of my face...
Sure enough..........It did happen.
::::::::I would like to say that although I wasn't punched or kicked, I had a small taste of a hate crime. My heart goes out to all of you that have experienced much worse for being GAY. I have never felt more disgusting and in need of shower since the day I was raped. VICTIMS (no matter what kind) should never have to be forced to feel disgusting because someone else hurt you mentally o physically. We must stand tall and push through it!:::::::
I'm glad I came home to my wife and her cousin. I cannot say with confidence that I wouldn't have beat the shit out of myself that night, or worse, without the support.
Say NO to Hate,
Truthaboutcrazy
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