HMRN SS TreysHead

Here I am…

Standing here…

…………..Like a dumbass.

Picture me;

My hands are at my hips (representing the grandmother)

My eyes are scanning the floor at my feet (representing me at 10)

And my mind is blank… trying to recall where I put something (representing most of the human race over 30)

I fell into this predicament because I tried to multi-task without the required software in my brain. An update that I failed to update….

Now, I am in the “I’ll be damned” zone.

Here’s how it happened:

I had been home (my RV) for a day now and it was time to do the laundry.

I loaded up the rancid menswear into a basket, dug through the drawers for quarters, made sure I had my Tide and Bounce (sounds like a Dub step)

Anyways…

I plunged into the brutal South Arkansas heat, plodding through the humidity that hung about me like a lead cloak, fighting off the Bedouin Tribe…..wait… that last parts not true.

Got carried away…sorry. (I’m soo dramatic and creative sometimes)

Real time: C’mon Trey…Focus! ADHD sux!

Well, anywhos….I finally make it to the wash room after dropping 5 lbs and surviving a mini-stroke.

I……’m better now, thanks for your concern.

Yes, you may touch my pee pee…..

Dammit!! Where’d that come from!?

There I was, trying to tell a damn story, then all of a sudden……BAM!

The dirty old man pops up!!!

Sick bastard…

To hurry this along, I did my laundry…..

I went and got my laundry….

I then bought 2 Cokes and placed them in the basket at opposite corners, next to each of my hands.

That’s where it started to get screwy I think, because I put the basket down on my front steps and grabbed the hose (the crinkly green one like you’ve all seen on QVC or As Seen On TV) and watered my plants.

Of course in this heat, it evaporated within minutes.

Useless…..

I then opened my front door, grabbed the basket, set it inside, and shut the door.

Normal stuff, right….done it a million times right….?

Then, the hitch in my giddy-up….

Something distracted me…just for a freaking split second.

Hey! A squirrel!!!!

That’s when I noticed the envelope on my table I had brought in earlier on one of my desert treks to the park laundry.

Picking it up…”Capitol One?” I hummed…tossing it into the trash…”What’s in your wallet?” I chuckled to myself appreciating my humoristic expertise… (is that a word? I’ll Google it later)

After depositing the letter into the “outgoing” mail with the other vital financial files, I returned my attention to the clean clothes. Bending over toward the basket, I noticed something odd…

“Where are the Cokes?”

I looked in the before mentioned corners…No cokes

I took out each item of folded apparel…Nada

The bottom of the basket was bare…Nyet…Neine!

That’s when I stood and entered into the aforementioned state of bafflement.

“What the hell..?” I said out loud, looking around.

No one answered me.

Crazy people live alone it appears…..

Crap…here we go again. (“WE” are the voices) at least the ones that are still talking to me….

[ Scene 1]

Inside Treys head [Layout of Treys head] Picture a dimly lit Submarine Operations center (“the Con”]

Chekov: “Sir! We’ve got a gap”

Captain Nemo: “Gap…? Again…? I thought we worked that out?”

Bo Derek: “Evidently we missed something sir”

Nemo: “No shit, Sherlock”

 

Scene: Bo Derek running down the beach in a beige one piece.

Real time: See what I have to put up with?

Real time: C’mon Trey…Focus! ADHD sux!

Nemo: “Okay, let’s heat ‘er up…rig for red”

Her?

Chekov: “Aye sir…rigging for red…Initiating power to core for sweep…”

Real time: I slowly start to rotate my body in a counter-clockwise motion. Looking around my immediate area with growing….bafflement. I have not moved from this spot since I set down the basket. 

–Remember to keep the look of bewilderment on my face until I tell you otherwise…okay?

Chekov: “Power optimal sir, ready for array sweep”

Captain Nemo

Nemo: “Make it so number one”

Vienna Boys Choir: “Aye sir”

Real time: Plagiaristic Bastard is I !!

Real time:

As I continue to spin around…yes…in bafflement…I slowly raise my arms to the crucifix position, splaying my fingers like trying to palm a Basketball…..searching. 

But…now…for some reason I am making noises. I am 50 years old…I am slowly spinning around …with my arms extended, and out of my pursed, baffled lips is coming a sound like…”rumrumrumrumrum…”

Weird.

Chekov: “Array deployed sir, power rerouted to array splay”

Nemo: “That is good…cargo?”

Angelina Jolie: “Nothing on the scope sir, shall I return to your quarters and get in a hot, steamy shower with lots of soapy suds?”

Nemo/Chekov/Vienna Boys Choir: “Make it so!”

Real time: C’mon Trey…Focus! ADHD sux!

[Sean Connery/SS TreysHead Science Officer] “Captain…may I suggest a reboot of the Ganglia matrix, predominantly covering the Pre-Frontal grid?”

 

Nemo: “What will that accomplish?”

Connery: “Just a way to clear the junk files that the Capital One bug infected, Captain.”

Real time: still spinning, arms out…”rumrumrumrumrum”

Nemo: “Chekov…power dispersal…pressure? Analysis…?”

Chekov: Minimal power loss sir…But, pressure has risen to 150 over 100….she’s stable for now”

She’s?

Nemo: “Initiate File dispersal!!!”

Sophia Loren: “Aye sir” (her hair is messy and it’s humid in here….her boobs are all sticky lookin’)

Grrrrrr……..

FOCUS!!!!

Real time: I come to a stop from my spinning. I sit down. I open my eyes wider to let in more light, to sharpen my focus.

Connery: “Shut down the Optic Array Chekov, you know this unit has a hard time doing 2 things at once”

He called me a “unit”….ha ha

Chekov: “Yes sir…sorry sir”

[Scene] Captain’s quarters…steam rising…a silhouette moving behind the doo…

What the hell…Focus Trey!!

Real time: “Okay…” I mumble. “I know I have not moved from this spot…its only 6’ in a 360 degree circle…” “What the crap did I do with them?”

I’m getting kind of freaked out now. Got to be Dementia…or blood clots!

Nemo: “Stabilize that pressure mister…!”

Donald Duck: “Aye sir” (you know how he talks)

RT: I am literally stressing now…I don’t know what in the hell…or how in the hell…those Cokes vanished!

Plus, I’m starting to get pissed.

Nemo: “Update?”

Chekov: “She’s right on the line sir…but holding”

Damn….

What is up with this “she” shit?!

Charlton Heston: “Dammit man!…specifics!”

Chekov: “The file dump has finished sir, the optical and splayed array were blank…we got nothing sir”

Nemo/Heston/Connery: “Damn!”

Marilyn Monroe: “Sir…shall I slowly bend over and pick up this pen you dropped?”

Nemo/Heston/Connery/Vienna Boys Choir: “Make it so!

Real time: C’mon Trey…Focus! ADHD sux!

Nemo: “Connery… suggestions?”

Connery:” …Wipe it”

 

Heston: “Dammit man! Wipe it? Are you mad?”

Connery: “It’s the only way to correct our course, Captain…If we continue to maintain this heading the ship will be lost…lost sir”

Nemo: “Chekov my old son…would you be kind enough to…wipe it?”

Devo: “Wipe it good!”

RT: ”Screw this….I’m not sitting here freaking out about this…it’ll drive me nuts! Forget it…they’ll pop up…I probably didn’t even buy the damn things!!!”

Nemo: ” Heading?”

 

Chekov: “Looks like a spot called….Shit Creek, sir; up-river from Denial Bay, sir!”

Nemo: “Break out the oars!”

Angelina Jolie: “We left the paddles on the beach after you spanked my…”

Nemo: “Ahem”

Totally self serving…

Heston: Dammit man! How’re we going to get up  Shit Creek without any paddles!

Nemo: “Steady as she goes…”

RT: I stand up and take the laundry basket (refilled with thoroughly frisked and re-folded clothes) into the bedroom.

I place the basket on my bed…I return to the kitchen. 

I step to the sink to run water for dishes. I add the soap…

Watching bubbles now…dementia coming on fast…

What was I talking about…?

Oh!

I looked at the drainer…”hmmm, better empty that first” I muse.

I pick up the lid of my skillet….

Guess what’s there…?

Yep…Sum Bitch!!!

2 Cokes!!!!

POOF!!

OUTTA FREAKING NOWHERE!!

[Scene: Deck of SS TreysHead] Pandemonium

Alarms screeching…lights flashing…people screaming…Sophia and Angelina in the shower together!!!!

WAIT!!

Real time: C’mon Trey…Focus! ADHD sux!

I stand there…shaking my head side to side…baffled

Unable to deal with this new input.

Sanity…waning

How…in…the…hell, did they get in there? There is no F’n way?!

I have absolutely no recall of that instant.

None. Nada. Nyet. Neine!

There is only one thing to do now.

Buy some Ensure…and diapers.

……And wait for the home.

I hope they have Jell-o……

Oh…just one more of Angie….

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The Circle

I have been reading a number of posts on abuse and bullying. There has been some coverage on TV about the same. The impact of child abuse or bullying on the child and the later adult may never be fully understood. One such post I read had a huge impact on me. The author speaks of her own experiences as a survivor. http://nae50.wordpress.com/2013/11/28/might-have-could-have-was-abuse/  And links to a video and song ‘Committing Slow Suicide’ by Scott Stapp from the group Creed. The video is harrowing to watch. It may even have been taken down by now.

The levels of abuse and types suffered by children enrage me. I cannot thole bullying in any form. My reactions are visceral when I read or hear of it. I was bullied by someone as a child. I stopped it. No one else. I took control. But. It left its imprint. I will not and cannot tolerate any sort of control of myself. And view others who seek to exert control as similar to monsters. My experience, however, was as nothing compared to the suffering of others. If people suffer more, they hurt more, it takes longer to heal. And their methods may be quite different and not always effective. The struggles of survivors to heal and find understanding and reasons for the actions of others leave a lifelong mark. And it may break them or make them stronger. Those I have been reading are among some of the strongest people I have ever encountered.

I’m drawn to hurt like moth to flame,

Others’ pain fills me with shame

That angsts I feel, though deep and wounding,

Hold no candle to some depths of hurting.

 

Mind sets, altered in early days,

Fight with nature’s inherent ways.

A struggle then, a lifelong one,

To come to terms with what was done.

 

Comprehension and forgiveness

Demand some reasons, any answers.

Dependence on an earthly crutch

May transfer or hide so much.

 

Seeking some oblivion

From hurts performed by some or one.

That child of then exists right now,

Trapped in time, until somehow

 

Someone, you, maybe another

Comforts, absolves, helps uncover

What was hidden or openly done,

Unobserved or viewed by some.

 

Abuse of child in any form

Is not so rare but is not the norm.

Many kinds or types there be

Killing, suffocating, we

 

Who know the hurt a bully causes,

Inflicting pain, causing losses

Of memories of childhood pleasure,

A time when all should build as treasure.

 

But stolen by the hands of one,

Abandoned then to struggle on

In adult life with child inside

Who seeks still love, approval, pride

 

In being who they ought to be

Not discredited and forced to flee

From inner mind where sanctuary

Sublimates or sets them free.

 

Acknowledgement of all who hurt

From childhood trauma. Not your fault!

Beating, words or actions done

By other must be owned by one

 

Who perpetrated such a crime,

Robbed innocence, God’s divine

Gift to child and all the world

To view with wonder when beheld.

 

Those who steal such gift away

Will answer, surely, come the day

When asked, ‘How did you fill your life?’

To answer, ‘I killed a child, as if with knife,

 

By stabbing at the hearts of pure.’

No one escapes! But some endure

An endless query. Why me? Why then?

To ask those words again, again.

 

No answers here, I cannot claim,

But trust that love always reclaims

The heart of child for loving much

Is what they do so well, with such

 

Belief in trust. May, then,

Trust and love, regrow again.

And pain depart or recognise

That no guilt attaches in your eyes.

Bullying.

I apologise for the length of this post in advance. But it is a subject that riles me so much that I find it difficult to be too precise.

http://zanyzacreviews.wordpress.com/2013/06/26/a-note-on-bullying/

and

http://lesbianlove97.wordpress.com/2013/06/24/why-must-people-judge-love-is-love-right/

I cannot agree that there is an instinctive sadistic urge in us all.

I do agree that there are many people who have a distorted perception of the world. Their inability to empathise or, at the very least, sympathise with differing human conditions still manages to shock me to the core.

I see bullying in my workplace. Children on children, adults on adults, adults on children.

Thankfully, among the adults it is more rare. You expect ‘grown-ups’ to know better. Although that is not always the case.

I always, without exception, act on bullying that I am made aware of. And try to put preventative measures in place even where no bullying,apparently,exists.

Teaching young people to ‘walk in another’s shoes’ is one of the most valuable lessons I can give the children in my care.

I have questioned the need that some people seem to have for bullying another and, over the years, I have come to one or two conclusions.

Firstly, let me say, it is never acceptable. Never.

However, understanding motives behind actions does help to go some way in being able to effectively redress those actions.

In many cases, those bullied have been victims themselves, not necessarily in the same environment in which they perpetrate their crime.

Disclosure of facts by children and other bodies leads me to believe that many children are bullied at home. Sometimes by other siblings, sometimes by parents. Strict authoritarian rule, without the ability to negotiate anything and absolute adherence to the rules regardless of how ill-conceived they may be, can lead to rebellion. If unable to express it at home, it can become manifest in other areas of life.

The desire to exert control or power over someone else, when you have none yourself, is strong.

Seeing one parent bullying another is also too often the scenario children bear witness to on a day to day basis.

I have first-hand dealings with children whose inability to control temper is beyond description here. In most cases, it has eventually been revealed that their own home life experiences are a replica. They know no better example.

There are then children who ‘rule the roost’ at home. In these cases it is too little parental authority that is the root of the problem. They are given license to be as obnoxious as they wish. It is not what they need. It is not even what they want. They need boundaries. These children want boundaries to show that someone cares enough to exert them. There is, sometimes, on the part of a parent, the desire to instil so much confidence in their children, that they forget a couple of other life lessons. Like how to treat other people.

It’s a tough job but parents have got to do it.

I have heard,  more times than I care to think about, vitriolic comments that do not come from the school environment. These children are being taught, systematically or accidentally, to hate and ridicule in the same ignorant fashion as their parents. Football teams, religion and colour are usually high on the agenda.

Yes, and maybe- just maybe- there are some who are plain bad. I, personally, do not accept this as a generality. Dig deep enough and you will find the reasons.

Unfortunately, this all seems like little help to anyone being bullied. What does understanding motive have to do with dealing with the problem? How can knowing the possible or probable whys help with the very pressing hows? How to stop it? How to prevent it?

I am no expert on this subject. And there are behavioural psychologists out there who will have better advice to give on the subject of the whys and the hows.

But.

I deal with children every day. I have taught for over thirty years. I have seven children of my own. One or two of them have been bullied at some point. I have been bullied in my life.

My advice to stop someone bullying you?

First, accept that this is not your fault. That’s right.

You do not deserve this.

You have not done anything to warrant being bullied.

Not your ears, not your eyes, not your nose, not your glasses, not your skin colour, not your religion, not your sexuality, not your geekiness, not your introversion, not your weight, not your intelligence, not your clothes, not because you play chess.

Nothing.

You do not deserve to be bullied.

By anyone.

So get that in your head, first of all. Bullying is not on.

Secondly, recognise, and I mean really recognise, that the bully is the one with the true problem here. True, as in psychologically disturbed.

Perceiving the world as they do is not considered normal by many, many people.

Now, how do you get them to stop?

Well, once you’ve acknowledged the first two and accepted them as fact, do this.

Lift your head up. Square your shoulders. Look straight ahead. Practise this first in front of a mirror, by all means. Now say,

‘I am God’s creation. Creation is beautiful. God does not make rubbish. I am His beautiful creation.’

And do you know what? You are. Whether you believe this or not. You absolutely are. Say it enough times. And stop criticising your own nose/spots/glasses/hair/weight/height/colour/whatever.

I really mean that. Stop it! And stop it now.

Walking about dejectedly, feeling ugly, not loving yourself can make you a target. You’re vulnerable.

What do bullies do? They pick on the most vulnerable. Or, at least, who they perceive to be vulnerable. Don’t make yourself a bullseye.

Now this is not a criticism of people who are bullied. It is merely an acknowledgement that those most likely to be bullied are those who appear to be the most vulnerable. Easy pickings, they think. A lot of bullies are cowards. They don’t want the challenge.

Paedophiles, questioned on how they picked their victims, responded that they could spot a target in a crowded room. Body language speaks volumes.

Get your head back up. You are not that person.

You are God’s beautiful creation. What are you?

‘I am God’s beautiful creation.’

Now shout it out loudly, somewhere, anywhere.

‘I AM GOD’S BEAUTIFUL CREATION!’

Belt it out!

Now some practical tips.

If someone says something to you, turn it back on them as a question.

It doesn’t have to be smart or witty or even sensible. It helps. But it doesn’t have to be.

Examples:

Bully: Does your mother let you walk about looking like that?

You: Do you want to ask her yourself?

Bully: Are you trying to be funny?

You: Is it working?

Bully: I’ll waste you.

You: Would you like me to give you something else to waste?

Now, as I said, it doesn’t have to be smart or witty or even sensible. Just answer back with a question.

A question turns the tables and often leaves the bully too perturbed to know what exactly to do next.

And sometimes, the bully may come at you, fists flying.

My advice? Go mental back at them. You might not win this time but they will think again before tackling you if you have given as good as you got.

As a rule, I do not, absolutely do not, advocate violence. But. And, it’s a big but, sometimes it is your only tool.

All of the above can work for adults as well as for children.

Think about it.

You are in your workplace and someone – boss/colleague/bully is about to give you a hard time. Ask a question.

Boss: Have you finished that report yet?

You: Was it urgent?

Boss: Duhh, I needed it yesterday.

You: Would you like me to get on to it straight away or stay at this meeting?

Boss: Well, I need you here. So it will have to wait.

You: So, it’s not that urgent?

Have a retort ready. Anything.

When one of my children was being bullied I did not know. After I found out, I was devastated to think I had so badly misjudged his poor behaviour at home. I accused him of having no patience/control of his temper/consideration for others.

When I found out, through my daughter, that he was being bullied, my reaction was typical of most mothers.

I wanted to go up to that school and rip the neck off of the child/ren that was the source of my son’s unhappiness.

How dare they? How absolutely-fucking-dare they?

I’ll eat them alive.

You know? A measured approach.

I didn’t.

I would have lost my job/been arrested/restrained in a white jacket.

After all, I was the adult.

So, what did I do?

I listened.

I asked questions.

I got the whole story.

I thought.

I read up on bullying.

I studied it.

I swotted.

Obviously, this is the responsible human equivalent of ripping someone’s neck out.

Then.

Oh, then.

I put my son through a course on bullying.

We practised retorts and comebacks.

Sometimes, I was the bully and he had to give the retorts. Sometimes, he was the bully and I got to think up all the fabulous things I would say.

My daughter joined in.

She said she actually like when people came onto her because she never knew what she was going to say until she opened her mouth and was invariably delighted at her sarcastic wit. (She always has had a smart mouth on her.)

I am not trying to be flippant on a subject that is capable of making me imagine violence.

I have read posts on this site, too many posts, where young adults and older adults alike, suffer at the hands of people who amuse themselves with exerting power over others.

This subject gets to me in a way that a few others do. I imagine violence. Then I try to think smart.

Bullying is never, ever, ever acceptable.

Bullying is a way some people try to control their environment or people within it.

It affects children and adults.

We can choose how we react to their behaviour.

I choose never to accept it. I choose to always fight it with whatever means are at my disposal. I choose to bleed sometimes. I choose not to be a victim.

What do you choose?

And what are you going to do about it?