annoyance in a seemingly pleasant world

I work for a small company (relatively speaking) doing billing and collections for a large company (which I've had previous experiences with as a customer and am honestly ashamed to say I work for them, even in a round-about way). All day I talk to people who need to check their balance, make arrangements for bills they plan to pay, explain to them why they can't make arrangements and must pay their bill before their service termination date, and get treated like crap. Since I haven't been there very long, I am not entitled to paid holidays. There are two in the next two weeks. That's 16 hours of pay missing. Add to that the fact I make little money at what I do, but all the people I am trying to collect money from seem to think I am the one who gets the money they pay (if they actually pay it) and that I make a lavish living at what I do (okay, not all but at least a good 99.98%-kinda like the paternity tests on Maury).

The funniest part is, I owe money to several companies, not entirely all of them are my own fault (at least, not completely).

I get so annoyed by these callers who treat me like crap. I do not enjoy telling people their electricity will be cut off, especially in the middle of winter, when they have 6 kids, three of whom are mentally challenged, and they make their living by selling what they can (including themselves) to get cash (okay, most don't do that, but many say things like that trying to get special treatment). Just pay your bills, or don't. I honestly think if EVERYONE in this country quit paying their bills.. no one would have to pay bills. Sounds good to me.

Argh. I need sleep and caffeine!! Love you!

My Dislike for Religion

For as long as I can remember, I have not been a fan of organized religion. It just seems to me there are better, more important things to focus on.

From early on in childhood, I remember having religion crammed down my throat. Every church we went to, a new religion. Every new religion, the same message; believe our way or you are going to Hell. Eventually, the result was that the message lost its impact and meaning to me. What is Hell anyhow, and why is it such a bad place? Do I really even believe in Hell? Why do we need religion? Does religion suite me?

Even at eight or nine years old, I questioned these things. By the time I was twelve, my Mom stopped forcing me to go to church. She realized that I followed more closely to my Dad's philosophy of religion than hers.

My Dad, always a thinker, believed that it was impossible to know for sure if there was one true religion, therefore he subscribed to one. He was more a spiritual person than religious, and that suited him just fine. I, however, still wasn't sure if I believed there was even a possibility of a "true" religion or anything beyond what we know in life on Earth, so I continued my search.

As I have searched and searched, I have run into many that claim to be "good Christians" yet none of which seem to truly stand for what Christianity means. They all say one thing and yet do another. They use the Bible to their advantage, pointing out others sins and misdeeds, yet disregard any part of the Bible that doesn't suite their current need. It is this sort of hypocrisy that has led to my dislike for the Christian faith. It is true that not ALL Christians are like this, but many are. Why do they feel the need to berate anyone whose beliefs differ, even slightly, from their own?

Religion, by definition, is a cult. If you don't believe this, you can easily find it in the Merriam-Webster dictionary Online, which states: Cult: Noun 1: formal religious veneration : worship 2: a system of religious beliefs and ritual; also
: its body of adherents 3: a religion regarded as unorthodox or spurious; also
: its body of adherents 4: a system for the cure of disease based on dogma set forth by its promulgator <health cults> 5 a: great devotion to a person, idea, object, movement, or work (as a film or book); especially
: such devotion regarded as a literary or intellectual fad b: the object of such devotion c: a usually small group of people characterized by such devotion.

Now, I'm not sure how many of you were raised, but I was raised to believe that cults are wrong. The same person that taught me this, however, was a Christian and reformed Catholic. Does that not tell you that Religion, or at least Organized Religion, is a bad thing? Think about what religion has caused. We hate people, without knowing them, due to their religion. We fight "holy wars" due to religion (which is truly a contradictory term, since when is war holy?). We kill innocent people in the name of "God" or "Allah" or whatever name that particular religion gives their savior. Instead of religion bringing about peace and hope, it brings about hatred, war and segregation.

Catholicism is yet another one of my pet peeves. You are telling me that you can pay to have your sins forgiven, with cash? You are honestly saying that some old guy goes into a little room and "GOD" speaks to him and only him. Yeah, I think he is schizoidphrenic if he is hearing voices, or possibly he has MPD (Multiple-Personality disorder). Why would "God almighty" only choose men to send his message to? Does that mean that women are nothing in the eyes of God? Did not God create woman from man's rib and man from dirt? Wouldn't that make woman superior? She is created from something of substance.

Now, as for the Bible, this book upon which all things are based, has anyone ever bothered to research the Bible and its origins? No. No one seems to want to take a historical look at the Bible, the fact that it was written, edited, rewritten, edited, and changed many times over by man to meet his needs. I honestly believe that any true merit there may have been in the Bible is long since gone. The Bible is strictly a work of literature, nothing more, and nothing less. Yes, I do believe in the whole "Thou shall not kill" deal, but that is common sense and there are circumstances where it is warranted. People need to wake up and realize that the Bible is NOT meant to cause wars and problems within the human race.

However, everyone is entitled to their beliefs, so as long as they don't shove their religious views down my throat, I won't shove mine down theirs.

Don’t Touch Me

I still remember when he came to stay with us. I was about four years old and oh so naïve. I never thought anything like that would happen. I never dreamt that I would lose my innocence. To this day only a small handful of people know. This is something hard for me to share, but I need to get it out there to finally move past it.

I was in my parent's room lying on the bed watching Sesame Street. It was among my favorite shows. I was wearing the cutest little jumper dress and my little feet with white socks, the ones with the lace ruffles, were kicking back and forth in the air as I intently focused on the show and hung out in my imaginary world with my then best friends. I remember him coming in the room with me and sitting down on the bed next to me. I remember him saying the tickle monster was going to get me, then him running his hands between my thighs tickling me. I can still see him get up and shut the door and hear him telling me I'd have to be quiet so my parents wouldn't hear us or we'd get into trouble.

I didn't understand why they would have a problem with Merle* and I watching TV and him playing tickle monster with me, but then again I was four so it was only a passing thought. I went back to watching Elmo and Big Bird and didn't think too much more about it.

Moments later he was playing tickle monster again, but this time his hand went inside my panties. He told me he was going to tickle me in a 'special place' and that it would feel good. I remember him undoing his pants and sliding off my underwear. I was pinned down on the bed and told not to scream or he and I would get into trouble. I remember feeling something other than his hand between my thighs.

The next thing I remember, my older sister was chasing him out of the room and telling my parents what she had seen when she opened the door. The next morning, Merle was gone. I was taken to see a shrink but don't remember much about the "talks" we had. I remember being shown those stupid little dolls that are "anatomically correct" and being asked if I had ever seen one of the "boy parts" before.

My entire life I have dealt with insecurities and fear of men. Not all men, of course, but some who remind me of him. Merle was, after all, my cousin, only about eight years my senior. I found out later Merle had been sexually molested as a younger child by his step-father, so I guess it isn't entirely his fault.

For the longest time I would want guys to touch me, but when they did it was almost as though I was outside my own body watching what was happening. I would completely zone out. I did that with my 'first time' having sex as an adult. I even remember telling him afterwards to never touch me again. I also became somewhat promiscuous as time went on. I was definitely a cock-tease, but it didn't stop there. I found alcohol to be a good way to numb the thoughts and emotions connected to physical intimacy and for a long time used it as my vice and a way to 'perform' without dealing with the reality of it.

It wasn't until I fell in love so deeply that I finally stopped doing that. He is the only one I truly feel comfortable with. He is the only one that can touch me, without the shield of alcohol, and I won't shutter. I don't know what I would do without him.

I don't know what ever happened to Merle. I have been told he is down in Florida somewhere, married with children. I don't know if he ever did that to anyone else or if it stopped with me. It seems to be a big family secret, what happened to me. Either no one really knows or they just refuse to admit it happened. I'm not sure which. I know my parents tried to keep things hush-hush, as I'm assuming was instructed by the shrink I was taken to. They wouldn't really even discuss it with me when I tried to talk to them about it later in life; the subject was always very quickly changed. I wish I could fill in the missing space, but instead it is blackness. I'm sure I have those 'repressed memories' hidden somewhere in my brain, but they are locked away so tight I may never find them.

As darkness falls and I reflect upon this event in my life I realize that I am not alone. There are thousands, possibly millions of other people out there who have been through this. Keeping it inside will tear you apart. I know it has me. I guess I felt it was just finally time to tell my story. Maybe one of my friends needed to see this or something so they could deal with something similar in their own life. I don't know.

 

*Name has been changed to protect identity

Deep Personal Thought

So, lately I have been doing a lot of soul searching. What is it that makes me who I am? What major life events, or even not so major life events, have shaped who I am? What has had positive effects on me, and what has affected me negatively?

A lot of who we become is based off past experiences and how we react to those experiences. One of my deepest issues that I am dealing with is very personal to me. I know many have heard about this issue, but most may not realize how profoundly it has affected me.

The death of my Dad was unexpected, and therefore I think it has affected me more so than the death of my Mom. I was always a Daddy's girl. I idolized my Dad, and I realize this. My Dad was a wonderful man. He had been battling health issues my entire life which always made me worry that one day I might come home and he would be gone. Not gone for the day or gone for the night, but gone for the rest of my life. It was something that was always in the back of my mind.

My Dad had a lot of health issues, but the one that got him should have never happened. After a surgery to remove an aortic aneurism, he got an infection from a nurse not cleaning her hands properly before messing with his trach. Needless to say he ended up with an infection that could have been prevented, yet we were not told about this until days before his death, almost two months later. I watched as my Dad suffered in pain, trapped inside his own body, before finally passing away. The memories of that day will haunt me forever.

I feel such guilt over this happening to him, you will never believe it. I told him to have the surgery, though I thought he should have it performed at another hospital than the one he chose, and I urged him to do it as soon as possible. Had I not pushed the issue so much, maybe things would have been differently. I hadn't gotten to spend the amount of time with my Dad that I was used to since I had started working for the police department, and that kills me. I put money and a career ahead of family, which is something I had said I would never do. I came to resent that job, though I do miss the pay and benefits.

My Mom also passed away, though her death had been expected. My Mom and I were never close until she got sick. I always thought she hated me as I was growing up because she had difficulty expressing emotions. I feel so bad for all the time she and I missed out on with one another. She could have been my best friend and mentor, but sadly neither of us were able to set our differences aside until it was nearly too late.

The death of my Mom has made me appreciate Mothers in general. I am one now, so maybe that has helped as well. I never understood what she had given up to take care of me and see that I was provided for and protected until it was too late. It amazes me what mothers are willing to sacrifice for their children. It is truly a beautiful thing.

Without my parents alive and in my life, I feel that I have a huge void. Luckily, I have my son's Grandmother and my sister (biological mother) in my life to help guide me. I feel the bond between mother and child is something special that needs to be nurtured and cherished. I am happy to have both women in my life to help guide me and help me provide my son with the best.

I have an extreme phobia of being alone. Not necessarily alone as in by myself at a house, but alone as in no one to share my life with. I want to be loved and to love someone in return. I truly do have someone I love, and though I know he knows it, I think at times all of my issues combined are hard for him to handle and comprehend.

I am trying not to let things like this impact my life so much, but I will be perfectly honest, it is damn hard. I am trying though, and that is what is important. I am taking things one day at a time, and trying to lay down some framework for my future without planning every little detail since things do change.

My next blog will, if I can bring myself to discuss it, deal with a much darker issue from my past that I seriously need to resolve. I will warn you, the next blog will not be easy for me to write, and may be difficult for some to read due to the subject matter. I am enjoying this experimentation of self-therapy and self-discovery.

Missing Someone and Trying to Plan for the Future

One of my major issues I have had throughout my life is my inability to plan ahead and actually stick to those plans. This is something I am working on very hard right now. Not only am I trying to stick to it for my schooling, but for my personal life as well. I have some things planned for my future that I'm not certain will ever happen, but I've got other things I really want to see happen and am determined to do everything in my power to make them come true.

I am missing someone very much right now. Names needn't be mentioned, as this person knows who they are. This person is a crucial part of my future plans at this point in time, and I am missing this very special someone very much.

My missing this person also plays into my fears of being alone and my feelings of abandonment I've long dealt with, but mostly kept inside. While I know I am not alone, as this person would always be a part of my life no matter what, I feel truly alone at times now, which I never had that issue before this person parted ways with me. I realize that I had taken this person for granted, and that was wrong. I realize that I projected anger at this person that wasn't meant to be directed that way. I did a lot of things that lead this person to feeling like they must spend some time away from me. This person is not without fault, however, and knows it. We are both dealing with our own issues to make us happy as individuals and once that is achieved we can look to a future again.

I hate when people leave. Goodbyes are so hard for me. I used to skip the last day of school because I always balled like a baby knowing I might not see my friends for the entire summer, and that if they moved away we would most likely lose contact forever. I had even found myself doing this in my adult life. Instead of looking at the joys in goodbyes, starting over fresh with a new adventure, I always seem to get hung up on what I might be leaving behind. This comes from feelings of abandonment from when I was a child.

Though my biological parents had their reasons they couldn't keep me, which I am truly thankful for because it led me to my Mom and Dad, without whom I wouldn't be the person I am today, I have always had feelings of inadequacy and abandonment due to this. I always felt as though I had done something wrong and that is why they didn't want me. This feeling was reiterated to me as a teen and again as an adult when my biological father came in and out of my life, never giving any explanation when he chose to leave. It was only after his death I came to realize that his not being in my life was not by choice. He had been giving false information as to my feelings and wants where he was concerned, and therefore chose not to upset me by sticking around. I wish he and I had known the truth sooner so I could have gotten to know him as a person and so he could have seen his Grandson before he passed. Alas, all he was able to see were pictures of Giovanni.

I don't honestly know what the future holds for me, but I do know that it is time I take responsibility for the things that happen in my life. It is time I take responsibility for the things that will happen to me in the future. The future is what you make it, and I want to make mine the best it can be, centered around me being truly happy with MY FAMILY.

Not everyone who walks away from me is going to be out of my life for good. I am just realizing this. Not everyone who walks away is doing it because of some inadequacy I have, sometimes they just need a break from other factors of the situation. I need to quit taking everything so personally. I am working on this, and feel I am doing much better. It is amazing the insight one gains by looking deeply at themselves.

To those I may have taken for granted, I am sorry. I know sorry doesn't even begin to make up for it, but it is all I can offer right now. I will show you I am sorry through my actions. Maybe one day I can prove that I can change my behavior.

 

Change

Change is inevitable.  It happens whether we want it to or not.  There is nothing you can do to prevent it.  Many times you do not realize it is happening.  Once it hits however, it is hard to go back to the way things were.  It can happen though, so don't get distressed. 

I am currently looking forward to change.  I am very eager to change my situation and have a fresh start.  Many of my current friends will remain, but some of you may choose not to stay in touch with me once I move.  For those of you that make that decision, I am thankful for the time we had as friends and for the changes and insight you helped me with. 

I am realizing that I can't live in the past any more.  The past has already happened and cannot be changed.  I need to start living in the moment and for the future.  I am working hard at school and trying to make positive changes in myself to get back the good points of the "old me" without all the drinking and drama that went with it.  I don't want to be the cold shell of a person I used to be.  For the longest time I was afraid to let anyone in, even those I cared deeply about, for fear of getting hurt.  I can't block people out for fear of them hurting me; it is a risk I have to take if I want to have anyone in my life that is worth having there. 

Part of the biggest reason I have failed in relationships is that I tend to put up walls and push people away just when I start to care the most.  I get scared that they are getting too close and that I am caring too much, therefore making myself (in my mind) vulnerable for them to hurt me.  Instead of trusting that they wouldn't hurt me, I put up my walls to protect myself and push them away before they can do that to me.  It is among the quickest ways to kill a relationship, monogamous or not. 

With the knowledge I have been gaining about myself through insight and, for once in my life, actually listening to what others are saying instead of just hearing it, I am making changes (though slow at times with some small setbacks) to be a happier, healthier person physically, mentally and emotionally. 

I wish that emotional scars were like physical scars in that people could see them and therefore understand them better.  Half of the time I think that I don't even realize how many emotional scars I have, some of which are not completely healed.  All I can tell everyone is that I am sorry for not being the type of friend I should have been.  I am sorry if I pushed you away unfairly or simply disappeared from your life without reason or explanation.  I can tell you that it most likely had nothing to do with you.  I have been battling a lot of inner demons for a long time and not telling anyone or trying to seek help to work through it.  Please accept my deepest and sincerest of apologies.  I never meant to hurt anyone, and for the longest time I didn't realize I had. 

I honestly believe that once I have moved out and moved on with my life I will be in a much better place mentally.  Though it is not an excuse, living in the same house still that I lived in with my parents (both of whom are deceased) has had a major impact on me and I need to be away from this place before I can truly move on.  Hopefully that day will come soon.

In closing (for this post anyway) I would like to again offer my deepest and sincerest of apologies if you are one of the aforementioned friends that I have neglected or mistreated.  You will never know the depths of my shame over my behavior.  I have not been a good person, and I am going to do my best to change that. 

I love you all.

Once a Girl, Now a Woman

I can still remember back in the day when I was younger thinking of how things would be when I got older. I never honestly saw myself turning out the way I have. I'm not upset or disappointed in how I've turned out, just surprised. I honestly always thought my life would be more together by now. I was definitely wrong.

When I was younger I had a life plan. This life plan was very detailed and told of exactly what I wanted to happen and by when in my life it was to occur for me to be successful. I had it planned down to the year of marriage, birth of children, vacations that would be taken, and retirement and even contemplated for approximately when death may occur. My life as it was planned out would have been perfect, and predictable. My plan couldn't have been farther from what actually occurred than the thought that by the year 2000 we would all be living like the Jetson's.

According to my life plan I would attend college right out of high school, most likely Harvard Law, and become a lawyer. I would work for a very prestigious firm right out of law school, since I would graduate top in my class. At twenty-three I would marry, most likely either a lawyer like myself or a doctor, and my new husband and I would take a three month hiatus from life to go explore the world. We would visit Europe, Australia, South America and the United States. Hawaii would be one of our favorite stops on our tour of the world.

Once we returned to our lives in the big city (we would be living in New York, Chicago or Washington D.C. of course), we would both focus on our careers for approximately a year, then try to conceive. Our first born child, a boy, would be born before my twenty-fifth birthday. He would be the center of my world for the six to eight weeks I got off from work, and then our live in nanny, most likely one of his grandmothers, would care for him while my husband and I were both working and we would take over once we were home in the evening and on weekends.

By the time I turned twenty-eight, I would make partner at the firm and be pregnant for baby number two, our little princess. By this juncture in my life I would be able to take at least three months off of work to spend time with both children and prepare our home for sale as we would be moving up to a larger home.

Once our new home was ready, a custom built mansion of no less than 3500 sqft. of perfection, not including the separate in-law apartment in the rear of the property and the six car garage we would have, along with the Olympic size swimming pool and tennis courts, all sitting on a cool twenty acres or so of land, we would be moved in and back to work, making the society pages on almost a weekly basis.

At thirty-five I would leave the firm to open my own practice. I may or may not have partners with my own firm, it would depend on the contacts I had made and how much time I felt like investing at that point in my life. I would be ready to open my own clothing line at this time as well as a restaurant that served some of my favorite foods, such as pizzas, pastas, potatoes and deserts. I would be a true mogul.

In my spare time I would have written a novel or two and they would be published and be best sellers. It is amazing what a woman can do when she sets her mind to it. I would have self-help books on the market to encourage women to chase their dreams and turn them into reality, maybe a trashy romance novel or two, and the ever present crime and mystery novels. I may even have thrown in a suspense thriller or vampire novel by this point also.

At forty-three I would be watching my first born graduate high school and follow his dreams of being a surgeon. I always knew that boy would grow into a successful doctor, most likely following in his father's footsteps. At forty-six my daughter would graduate high school and go on to be a lawyer like Mom, fighting for justice and truth.

My daughter would be the beautiful blonde haired blue eyed lawyer that one day would be a Supreme Court judge, and possibly the first woman president of the United States. Her brother has no interest in politics, but he would undoubtedly join her campaign to ensure that if anything ever happened to her, her dreams of a better tomorrow would be followed through. Of course, he would never have to step up to the plate because she would be loved by all, both domestic and foreign, and bring about a true change for the betterment of the world.

At fifty-five I would retire from practice, though I would still own my firm and assist as needed on a case by case basis. My restaurant and clothing line would be in full gear by this time and I could take a year off, save for a few meetings I may have to attend and a few major designs being created when I became bored from lack of work, and simply travel and enjoy my life. My husband, still gorgeous but with graying hair, would be retired fully from his practice of medicine and we would have a very large bank account to fund our retirement and our travel. We would dabble in real estate from time to time and enjoy going to Vegas semi-annually.

By the time I turned sixty I would be a grandmother to seven grandchildren, three from my daughter and four from my son. They would be wonderful grandchildren as my own children had raised them well and chosen wonderful, supportive spouses for themselves that helped to nurture their children.

Sadly, at the age of sixty-two, I would become a widow. My husband would pass away of seemingly natural causes. I would be devastated. I would return to work at least 30 hours per week to keep my mind busy and spend the remainder of my time with my beautiful grandchildren. I would live long enough to see my daughter elected president for a second term and serve our country well, then pass quietly in my sleep at sixty-eight years of age.

No one would weep for my death. There would be celebration in honor of my life and resolutions made to live each day to the fullest and to always fulfill your dreams.

What a wonderful life I had planned for myself. It is no wonder that, at times when I think of this plan, I become truly depressed about where my life is compared to where it should have been if I had only followed my plan. However, I realize as I age that life cannot follow a predetermined plan and to try to make it conform to such a plan would be asinine.

Here is how my life has gone thus far, mind you I'm about to turn twenty-six.

I barely graduated high school thanks it a medical issue I had causing me to miss a rather large portion of my senior year and a counselor that did not like me and was no cooperative in getting my assignments while I was off school recovering from my medical problems. Upon graduation from high school we discovered there was no way we could afford to send me to college; any college at all was too expensive for what my parents would be able to afford. Therefore, I returned to work at Dairy Queen and made my way to shift-manager before leaving to pursue a better opportunity immediately following the attacks of 9-11.

My new job didn't last long as the headquarters for the company I had signed on with was located in the Twin Towers and was destroyed in the attacks. I ended up leaving the company shortly before they went out of business and began working for the biggest retailer in the world. That was a mistake. The job was not what I had signed on for from day one. After my brother-in-law was in a head on collision on a freeway near Toledo, Ohio, my mother was diagnosed with terminal cancer. I ended my career and moved home to care for my mother. I left behind a guy that I thought I truly loved, though he never truly loved me in return. I was too focused on my mother to stop and think of the pain I felt over the ended relationship, and kept it all bottled up inside.

After 14 months of fighting with hospice personnel over my Mother's care, and watching my Dad's health slip further and further downhill during the process, I got my Mom in to see a specialist at the James Cancer Hospital. This was a true turning point. After months of being miserable and going through treatment, she got the word on April 1, 2004 that her cancer was in remission. That is the same day I was hired on at a local mail order pharmacy. This job did not last long. Before I knew it I was being hired on by the city as a 911 dispatcher. Mad overtime and great paychecks followed, but my personal life suffered tremendously. I no longer had time for family or friends. This is something I will regret until my dying days. Months after starting my job at the police department, my father passed away due to an infection he got while in the hospital recovering from surgery for an aneurism. My mother soon gave up hope in her battle and passed eight months to the day later. I was devastated.

The court battle that followed merely days later from 'family' was both needless and hurtful. Those that were involved will never be forgiven for what they have done. A little over nine months later I found out I was pregnant. All would finally be right with the world. I was in love after all, and we all know the power of love. Sadly, things were not right with the world. By three months into my pregnancy, I was on bed rest. At 27 weeks I was hospitalized on total bed rest. At 28 weeks pregnant my son was born. He spent 68 days in the NICU, but has come home and been healthy since. I ended up leaving my job after my son was born due to the overtime demands being less important to me than the health of myself and my son.

At this juncture in my life, my son's father and I are not together. I still try to act as though we are for my own sanity. You see, I love this man more than I love myself, and I refuse to accept that there is no hope for us to work things out. I'm not entirely certain where things went wrong, but I know we will find our way back to each other soon. He is my soul mate. He is the one I want for all eternity. I want to grow old with him, though I do have a slight head start. He and our son are the inspiration behind me returning to school to pursue my dreams. I want to be a better person for both of them. I want to make them proud of me. Had he not encouraged me to do this, I never would have.

My life is nowhere near where I wanted it to be, but oddly enough, I'm not complaining as much as I always assumed I would. Yes, there are times I get down about it, but all in all I truly believe things are going alright. It may not be the life I had always planned on, but it is the life I have, and I have worked hard to get to this point.

Life is what you make of it. Life is neither bad nor good. "Life is what happens while you're busy making other plans" (John Lennon, lyric from Beautiful Boy). Had I not gone though the things I have, I wouldn't be the person I am today.

It is amazing the differences between the life you plan as a child and the life you lead as an adult.

The Life and Times of Lissa

Born in 1982, Lissa has seen a lot in her relatively short life. She has dealt with more than most her age; yet she has persevered to become the strong, intelligent, driven woman she is today. There are many facets to this woman you see before you today. She is a mother, a daughter, a friend, a lover, a fighter, a Bitch, a mentor, an inspiration; the list could go on for eternity. One thing Lissa is not, however, is someone that will easily turn her back on those she cares about. She may put up a tough front, but underneath the rough and tumble exterior is a fragile little girl, uncertain where things in her life went so terribly wrong.

You may not realize this, but Lissa isn't really as strong as she likes to put off to be. A lot of things she plays off as not affecting her have left deep emotional scars on her that she battles with on a daily basis. From the abandonment issues surrounding her early childhood to the fear of being loved as an adult, there are years and years of issues she has held just under the surface; afraid to show her vulnerability to others for fear of being judged as less than her peers, she has kept everything bottled up inside.

I am planning to start a new blog, entitled The Life and Times of Lissa to tell more about me and my past. This will be my form of "therapy" about my past. I will probably jump around depending on what issues and demons I am battling that day, but it is certain to be quite insightful to who I am and why I am the way I am. Some of this may even prove to be a revelation to me, so please bear with me as I jump back in time to explore who I am and where I came from.

I honestly believe that blogging can cure the soul. That being said, I feel blogging can be quite dangerous when it explores parts of ourselves that we have chosen to hide for months, years and even decades.

Get ready to go on a bumpy ride to into the Life and Times of Lissa. It is sure to be a tantalizing experience.

 

This blog was originally posted to Lissa's World at 12:25 am on 08/08/08 to announce this blog and give a slight glimpse as to what it may contain.