The Mother’s Day Story
(this post got hung up as my website crashed, it happens. Just like files on your computer get corrupt thus is it with websites or servers on occasion, this is why you should always back things up)
Last Sunday was Mother’s Day…
This was the first mother’s day where I accepted that there will not be children in my future. There is no longer “maybe in a few years… ” and while I wanted to write this post, I could not.
Yes, I’m sure you know someone who was in their 40s and such and such happened and then suddenly they were so happy to be pregnant.
My doctor and I have talked over the years, this was our deadline. He knows my medical history, and knows my family history. The few years ended last year, but some part of me held on to some fantasy that I still had a remaining chance. But that aside this would also assume that any of my relationships lasted longer than an elephant’s pregnancy.
This is why I wrote a certain post on Facebook, and have decided to take James Fisher’s comment as a challenge…
Yes,
Read MoreBullying, Friends, and oh yea I have ADHD
This is a weird post for my personal blog, yet it’s one that has been building in my heart for weeks.
I woke this morning to the sound of pouring rain. Since my daily walk was delayed I reached for my Blackberry, intending to play BrickBreaker, and find myself in Facebook.
There I see a link by my friend Prince. Another gay teenager dead this time from a town hall meeting. One of the ladies in that meeting announces she is biracial, and was born that way then argues gays are recruited into the lifestyle.
In first grade is when I met Prince. But that very first memory of Prince is… he has a cool pinky. We compared hands. We sat in music class and sang ♪♫ Froggy went a Courtin’ and he did ride,♫ uh huh…♪ Froggy went a courtin’ and he did ride ♪♫. I think the world of Prince and would do anything for him.
The recent news is so heartbreaking to me. Because I worry about Prince, I worry about other friends as well. Of course I have also been going through quite a bit emotionally. Trying to accept who I am in a world that does not like people who don’t fit the mold (thus the recent suicides. I have worked so hard to fit the mold that I lost myself. Right now I am finding more and more people who never could quite fit that mold.
I was bullied. I didn’t tell my parents. I learned to hide behind books. I learned to concentrate on books to turn off the outside world.
My first memory of being bullied was that sometimes PE would get overwhelming. Kids played hard with me, on the border of fighting, they tore my clothes more than once. While I learned to play rough, that was not always what I wanted. Hiding one day, I heard a girl run up to the PE teacher, “they’re picking on me.” For a brief moment, I wasn’t alone. Then Ms Jeter said “tell them to pick on MJ.” More classes followed and a long bus ride gave me time to read enough to forget. Yet, I came to hate PE. In later years this was the class that had kids try to hit me with balls and the teachers tell me it was an accident, even as the girls laughed and pointed.
As a smart but social awkward child, kids would be friends to get notes or help with tests then make fun of me. There were times girls would tell me this popular boy or that one liked me then as I tried to talk to said boy, the girls would start laughing. I went on one date in school. Then married the first guy who paid me any attention.
But there’s an advantage to hiding in the pages of books, I forgot about things, on a outer level. To the point I was shocked years later. In looking for a major I tried a semester of elementary ed, and was assigned a teacher at my old elementary. Walking back to my class after dropping the kids off for lunch, I overheard the PE teacher telling my teacher, “She’s always been a weird quiet child, she’ll never make a good teacher.”
Here’s the deal. I am dyslexic. My brain does not understand right from left all the time. It means sports are hard for me. This is the way I was born. My parents worked with me early, so it only showed for a few years, then I read so much it covered. My parents are both dyslexic, as is my brother. Last week I realized I have ADHD as an introvert, it shows more as being socially awkward. Plus side it means I forgot about things as a kid, negative side, it builds up as emotional baggage.
This is the way I was born. Blue eyes, very 
white, dyslexic, introvert. I have friends who were born, black, brown and white. My friends were born extroverted and introverted. My friends were born straight and gay. This is who they are. These are things from birth, these are not choices.
We can choose our careers, we can choose our religions, we can choose our friends. But who we are is who we are. Our souls and bodies were born a certain way. Gay, straight, dark, light, introvert, extrovert. But we all have hearts and these can be extremely tough when they need to be, but life is hard enough without abuse.
We need to learn to love each other and accept differences make us who we are. Abuse is not just physical, it’s mental and emotional. Stop abuse. Stop bullying. Teach your children to report it, whether they are bullied or see someone bullied. Adults; BE THE ADULT, step in and stop it.
To those who think “if you are bullied, do x, y, or z” BULL SH*T. No, be an adult and STEP IN. A child who “uses their words” will only get bullied more. A child who “loves the bully” will likely find more bullies “to love.” A child who “turns the other cheek” finds years later all that burying comes up in dramatic and sometimes scary ways.
This cycle of bullying is continued with adults. Why am I done with jobs? Because of bullies. To look out my living room window and see my boss drive by. To hear them say “your dog is home alone when you’re here.” To have them SCREAM at me on the main floor. To have bosses lecture me about being stupid, and being set up to fail, that is bullying.
Here’s the bottom line. Stop hating. Start loving.
Again start loving.
For the religious. “Love your neighbor as yourself.” If you hate you, you can’t love your neighbor. If you love you and hate your neighbor, you hate yourself. LOVE
Let me repeat the most important part.
LOVE
Love,
MJ Schrader
Read MoreOdds Are
Odds are, you know someone who was physically abused, odds are you know someone who was sexually assaulted even raped. Odds are you know someone emotionally abused. Odds are you know several. Odds are in many cases you don’t even know this is part of their history or current situation.
My last post was “But he doesn’t hit me” which was talking about emotional and mental abuse. Then on Thanksgiving, my facebook status was “if there are more than 4 women at your table, then one of them has been abused, molested and or raped. 1 in 12 odds for men.” So after a few emails I knew this was something that needed further discussion.
Maybe the number sounds high. You may look around your family, or your close friends and say “no, nothing has ever happened, I know them.” But the truth is sad.
It may have happened when they were little. Maybe it happened years ago, or it may have happened just today. First off, no matter if it is rape, sexual assault, physical abuse, or mental abuse it is embarrassing and humiliating. Second there is a problem of who do they tell, who can be trusted.
Most any form of abuse or assault happens from people known by the survivors. Since so many know their attackers, who can they trust? Even when they develop trust again, there are victims who would rather close the book and never talk about it again. Others may only mention when they are worried about someone else, or the topic becomes of importance.
It’s not an easy subject to handle or to announce. But what about those odds… again the truth is sad. Between friends and emails received I know many cases where this is a secret few know. If you are a guy you know men don’t talk. Men often feel emasculated by being abused so they are even more reluctant to talk.
It is not something talked about at the dinner table, so yes you could be sitting with a survivor, if not survivors. The odds are all too real. The reason for this story is simple. When do we make this stop? What can we do to help it stop?
Watch for signs of abuse. Watch for signs of someone having been raped. Offer support. Encourage medical attention as necessary. Do not push, judge or criticize. Read below for signs and visit the sites to see how you can help. If you are at a club and see someone slip something in a drink, tell someone. If you feel sleepy after a drink, talk to a guard or management. If you see abusive signs in your own relationship, seek help. Remember respect, honor and most important love. Put LOVE first everything else will fall into place.
MJ Schrader
Signs of Abusive Relationships
Fear of conflict, worried about upsetting a partner. Unexplained injuries, jumpy nervous behavior. Lose contact with friends. Change in activities, behavior and or appearance. Frequent last minute change of plans. Excuses made for abuser. Click here to learn how to help a friend or family member who is being abused.
Signs of Rape or Sexual Assault from NY Times
Rape or Sexual Assault is a very traumatic event. The person who was raped may or may not be able to say that she was actually raped, or she may seek medical attention for a different complaint. Emotional reactions differ greatly and may include:confusion, social withdrawal, tearfulness, nervousness or seemingly inappropriate laughter, numbness, hostility, and fear. Click here to learn how to help a friend who was raped
Read MoreBut he doesn’t hit me…
This is something I’ve heard several times this week. Years ago, I repeated “but he has never hit me” while looking at a marriage that was so wrong. So while I wanted to tell a story about New Mexico, this post is more important.
Regular readers know I was married. Over 12 years have passed, since I asked for us to get counseling, instead after work the house was half empty. Since then I dated guys with whom no future could exist. As a counseling student I know my choices were to “keep me safe” because I didn’t want to trust anyone although now someone is knocking on my heart… but that’s for another post.
Dating my ex-husband, he held my hand and sent “BIG” gifts to work, things for permanent display. Never roses, or dark blue irises that I love or flowers at all. This was all show, but being young and dumb “this meant he loved me.”
Married; the affection he showed in public remained the same, or even grew. The gifts were big and sent to work. Flowers added after much pleading, were given at home with a “I got them from the grocery discount bin” which showed. He barely talked to or touched me in private. Praising my accounting degree he didn’t trust me with his bank information. Yet he never hit me.
After working a 12 hour day, I refused to cook, so he grudgingly bought food for us, although I got food poisoning so bad I slept in front of the toilet. Fixing dinner I sliced my finger almost to the bone, neither time did he care.
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When I disagreed, he would cup my ears, mashing his palms & my hair into my ears. Then would “talk to me” except I couldn’t hear him, and it appeared he was mumbling. If I wanted to be alone, he would grab my arm and force me to stay. But he never hit me.
The contrary messages messed with my self-worth. When I woke up, and saw every bone in my body was visible, I realized “He doesn’t hit me” isn’t good enough. |
I deserve someone who can hold my hand, hug me or kiss me in public or private, in front of family or friends. Someone willing to compromise and honor promises. Someone who would get medicine for me, willing to watch shows I like. I am laid back, but I am not a doormat. This is almost 2010 and I am almost…. respect me for who I am, or walk away. Respect, honor and most important love. Put love first everything else will fall into place.
How about some you may have seen or heard. Excessive teasing. Berating someone in public. Constantly accusing someone of cheating, being mad, sad, or whatever. Name calling. Finding a reason to fight. Here’s one women use a lot, “you know why I am mad.” He or she “doesn’t hit me” is not good enough for me. And I am here to tell you, IT IS NOT GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU EITHER.
So what if your significant other doesn’t hit you. If you use that phrase, your relationship is probably an abusive relationship. Ask for counseling, walk away, whatever, it is time for a change. A relationship is compromise, honor, respect, and love. Actually the first should be love.
Summary:
“Doesn’t hit me” is NOT GOOD ENOUGH. LOVE IS.
Sorry for the rant, but this is something my heart said to talk about this week.
MJ Schrader
Now these 3 remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is ♥ LOVE ♥
Read MoreAsking for help
Like I said in the last post, I have been fighting depression, and trying to accept that people want to spend time with me. In school sticking my nose in a book helped me not get picked on (even by a PE teacher, who coached my classmates into calling me names and hitting me). Crying got me in trouble at home. At 10 I had a detailed suicide plan.
Last weekend I was asked about dating in high school. I didn’t date in high school not even asked out. But I was happy to have a small group of friends. Crushes, PE, weaknesses were ammunition for being attacked. Married, my ex would say I was beautiful, but he didn’t want to touch me except in public, and I was friendless. Bosses called me stupid, yet I was the one to call to fix things. Any weakness I showed was attacked; yet I am the healer, the counselor.
My brain understand these are opposite messages. My brain understands the negative things are just that and are something I need to let go. Yet hiding behind books growing up, being cut off later, I have very few friends locally and then they are often busy with parental duties. So I find myself wondering how to make friends…
Part of this is my own fault, because while I said a few months ago I would ask for help, but still don’t actively seek friends. Calling people, visiting people are in the “don’t be a burden” memory banks. So I trust a limited one or two and continue to feel isolated and unable to balance the opposites.
Then at Unseminar 7, after a speaker,upon standing, I felt the wave hit. Shaking hands meant my blood sugar dropped. I told Maggie I was going to get a candy bar, she saw my hands and told me to sit, and Bill to watch me. Suddenly there were people every where. Lynette behind me. Rahdi, Jayson, and others, I don’t know who, because I was suddenly hot, my heart was beating like war drums. My fumbling fingers couldn’t open a stupid banana, I was weak…
and there was no attack…
no one saying you are a failure, crybaby, idiot, you shoulda this, you shoulda that…
Suddenly I had a protein bar, meal bar and banana, which Jayson opened when he saw I couldn’t get it open. Lynette fanned my neck, and someone helped me slip off the shirt jacket I was wearing. Bill tested my blood. …
and I was loved…
I am loved.
How do I say thank you?
How can I be a friend?
So I ask for help… please teach me to be a friend…
MJ Schrader
Read MoreViva La Vida
Welcome to my personal blog. This blog in various forms and formats has been in existence since 2000. As for why this is called Viva La Vida, it means "live the life" in Spanish, but it is a salute to living life to the fullest. And my hope is that you will live life to the fullest!
This is my personal blog! So viva la vida with me!!