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Are We Happy Yet?

Elle Reverie Leave a comment

It’s the most wonderful time of the year…according to a song written 55 years ago. And, that song, “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year” is definitely a raucous party tune that depicts what it would be like to have wonderful friends and a family that actually gets along.

Among the festivities detailed in the song is the Victorian tradition of telling “scary ghost stories,” like in Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol. The song also talks about fabulous parties with family, spur of the moment drop-ins by friends and the whole human race engaging in various forms of social togetherness.

But, are we really feeling the wonder and joy and most importantly…are we even happy? It’s truly hard to tell anymore since up is down, down is up, the truth is a lie and lies are what currently cause the world spin on its axis of corruption and policy of personal profiteering. Ho! Ho! Ho!  Hand over your morals, your vote, and your wallet!

Why in the holy hell can’t people learn to get along??? Why are scowling, spittle spraying, bloated politicians being allowed to tinker with our moral compass in such a deliberate way that it’s making it hard to find our way home? Why are we stuck in the loop of only telling fear-inducing “scary ghost stories” or, the “us against them” staged tales? What is the lesson here? Even Ebenezer Scrooge learns his lesson and softens his heart or has that ending been changed now?

I’m tired.

I’m tired of listening to hate-filled opinions, twisted facts, and false information. I’m tired of knowing that my family was destroyed decades ago, through no fault of my own, but yet still today, I continue to carry the burden of guilt anyway.

Tired! Tired! Tired!

Look at what refusal to compromise has done. Look at what the desire to always be right rather than loving has accomplished. Does it make us happy?  Does it make us whole?

No? Then fix it! I can’t do that for you.

Little by little I am trying to fix the broken connections around me because it is my job to do so. My life, my mess, my job. I started first by examining my own heart to see where I needed to make repairs and then I looked at the grudges and resentments I continue to hold on to.

It’s hard to let go when you think you are so right and the other side is so wrong but what is left in the middle? Compromise? Peace maybe? I think I can forgo taking on the mantle of the Queen of Right in order to secure some peace for myself. Those who think that giving up the chance to WIN are missing the point that NO ONE WINS when you are standing all alone in your bitter victory.

For the sake of all humanity…welcome peace into your life. All fighters lose a battle eventually but it is the grace they show in defeat that lifts them up to the real winner’s circle in life. And that is a fact!

© 2018 L.A. Askew

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to “In the Land of Reverie” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Rehumanize yourself…

Elle Reverie Leave a comment

The world has gone mad.

Angry mad. Crazy mad. Foaming at the mouth mad.

And, no one seems to care. Except me and other horrified reasonable people!

I care very much and want to right all the wrongs. I want to fix everything that got smashed in the fight, to tape back together the relationships that have been torn apart by rhetoric, nastiness, spite and blatant lies.

But, once something is repaired it is never the same. Sometimes it’s better than before because lessons were learned and other times suspicion lingers, poking out around the glued edges, rough to the touch and seething on the inside.

https://youtu.be/C2vroR-4GjE

To illustrate this point I will offer up my own familial example of the inability to grow after a blow-up. Here we are zooming up on 9 months, holidays coming and going but still no offer to mend the tear created when guns and voting for the Orange Anus tore asunder what my bible misinterpreting parents created. For those that hate reading between the beautifully crafted lines: I’m talking about my younger sister drama.

Click Here To Be Brought Up To Speed

I could suck it up and reach out BUT, would it do any good? I’m thinking if we follow the words above about how repaired things are never the same; sometimes stronger, sometimes weaker, then I think my situation will be weaker since this drama likes to lie. We were raised to think lying was essential to creating a positive impression of self so there ya go. Learned from the worst!

http://rolereboot.org/family/details/2015-08-when-parents-still-abuse-their-adult-children/

I’m okay with starting again, with the understanding that EVERYTHING gets put on the table. No hiding anything, all resentment exposed because OBVIOUSLY there is a mountain of resentment. Even as nasty as things went down, horrific crashes can be worked on, patched up and put back on the road to recovery. I’m open even if she isn’t.

Now, back to my original thought; how nasty the world appears. Let’s be clear, it’s always had a nasty underbelly. There have always been horrible, vile, disgusting, evil, self-serving people ready to take and then destroy anyone or thing that stands in their way. That is a fact and not just a hunch. It’s just that now being openly horrible, vile, disgusting and evil is apparently chic and all the rage amongst the racist, misogynist, homophobic, white nationalist, Nazi, fascist and sociopathic/psychopathic crowd. White hoods are in this dark season! As is cruelty.

https://www.nytimes.com/2018/06/06/opinion/trump-winning-america-.html

We see you. We hear you. We will not let the world forget what you are trying to do.

We, the true loving heart of this county WILL stop you.

Did you really think you would win?

Now, let’s talk about cruelty…

I was born into a family that held up emotional and physical cruelty as a sure fire way to control those who needed to be held down and shown their place. That place was never higher than the task master’s place and hovered just a smidge below that of the family dog. To say that the dog received more consideration from my father than we, his own children, is no exaggeration. Oh, some may say I am embellishing but, the sharp sting of a balled up fist connecting with the tender spot right between my shoulder blades says otherwise. I don’t recall the dog ever being hit.

Dates, time and exact GPS coordinates of acts of abuse can be confused after many years but the feelings attached are not. To those who scream about PROOF and documented reporting of such criminality my response is, fuck you.  I was 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16 and so demoralized that the embarrassment of even acknowledging what my family became was debilitating.

Bravo to you if you weren’t abused or abusive…but, and if we are being honest here, those who shout down the victimized usually do so because they have skeletons of their own to hide. Look in the mirror before you start snarling m’kay?

So? How do we heal?

Slowly and carefully.

My plan is to move forward one step at a time, living my best life, and when opportunities to heal old wounds with my sister are presented I will address them in the moment. There will be no continued rehashing of old business because that is simply crazy making and I have done enough of that. The way I envision it, reconciliation will start with laying all the trash out on the table, sorting through it and then bagging it up and throwing it out for good. And, get this, healing an old wound can also be accomplished simply by saying “hello” to someone that you once told, “go fuck yourself.”

It can be accomplished without all the whatabouts and butyousaids simply because I say that is how I will do it. Be clear, I have no control over how other parties will approach it though and that is okay. Any start is a good start.

Set aside the anger and learn.

This is all I have so, it is what I will do.

What will you do?

© 2018 L.A. Askew
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to “In the Land of Reverie” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Believability in unbelievable times…

Elle Reverie Leave a comment

Why didn’t she report it?

WHY?

WHY?

WHY?

In this day and age, after all that has been revealed by many, many women and men to ask WHY their pain and embarrassment and shame wasn’t paraded about for all to judge, criticize and tsk tsk is tantamount to siding with the abuser.

After all, when our own president vacillates between acting like a wronged man-victim and a cruel bully all within the course of a day it’s not hard to see where the inspiration for all the other abusers and powertrip seekers to assert their new found dominance came from.

But, it’s the supposedly conflicted fence riders that get me the most. If you can’t muster the strength of mind to speak up when you see blatant harassment and abuse occurring in real-time, right before your eyes, then what goddamned hope do we really have?

This is how I see this topic playing out in my mind:

Fence Sitter: But, I NEED to hear all the sides here! 

Empathy: Are you the judge and jury?

Fence Sitter: Well, no but I can’t make up my mind who to believe until I know all the dirt about the accuser.

Empathy: Hasn’t she been hurt enough by this? You do realize that by bullying her into revealing things that aren’t your business just to satisfy your gory car crash mentality is a form of revictimization right?

Fence Sitter: Hey, she asked for this by going public.

Empathy: Wow, can you hear yourself?

Fence Sitter: Hear what? I need to know more so I can make up my mind. She is making some pretty damaging allegations that could ruin a man’s life. You have to admit, she probably just wanted to be with him and he rejected her or something. Scorned woman syndrome.

Empathy: So, you actually have already made up your mind that she’s lying but you just want to tear her apart further by laying her personal life out on the table for the world to mock? 

Fence Sitter: Oh, I bet you weren’t perfect in high school or college either…

Empathy: Great job deflecting and playing the worn out tune of whataboutery. Bravo! Time to get off the fence dude, we all know where you stand now.

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Hey judgemental people, why do YOU do THAT? This is the question I pose to everyone out there that immediately casts doubt upon any woman (and men too but for this piece, I will speak to that which I know) that dares to talk about being sexually harassed, assaulted, molested or raped. Does the subject hit so close to home that in order to hide your own shame its easier to lash out at the person already knocked to the ground by years of keeping their trauma to themselves? Whatever happened to reserving judgment until all the facts are weighed while also remaining neutral AND respectful of both parties?

Wouldn’t that be nice? It would but it doesn’t happen that way. Not that I have ever personally experienced anyway. To mock sexual assault victims with jokes about their appearance, intelligence and morality is plainly a dick move. A big, bullying, shaming dickish move committed by both men and women, which is a huge head-scratcher in itself.

Women have the unenviable position of being shit on mentally and emotionally by both sexes while also juggling the fear of potentially being assaulted, raped or murdered should they dare venture out by themselves after dark to get a fucking chai latte or walk alone to their car doing any number of banal things men just DO without any thought to potential personal risk. Want to talk about something not being fair? THAT right there is hugely fucking unfair and it shouldn’t have to be this way.

So, what can women do to be believed when shit goes down? Start acting like men? Hmmm.. so if some dude tries to pussy grab me at a concert I should just do a sack clutch, squeeze and twist for fair measure? Okay, sounds cool to me! Of course, this is said in jest as I have no desire to touch strange sack but the point is this: WHAT GIVES YOU THE FUCKING RIGHT TO TOUCH ME IN THE FIRST PLACE? Who taught you that it was even remotely an acceptable thing?

Or…were you just taught that if you were going to do it then make sure you don’t get caught? Boys will be boys…until they assault and rape and then they are just criminals. Pretty simple to understand right?

If not, read up on it here

I am tired. Tired of always being on guard. Tired of having to check my facial expressions, emotions, and attire against the preconceived notions of how male society thinks a woman should behave. I’m fucking tired and no longer care if I hurt your feelings by speaking up when you say shitty things to me. I will no longer sit idly by while certain men tell me what a “lady” should be.

YOU’RE NOT A FUCKING WOMAN SO HOW THE HELL DO YOU KNOW ANYTHING AT ALL ABOUT WOMEN!!! I would never proclaim to be an expert on men but, yet…women aren’t even allowed to be experts on their own minds, attitudes, likes, dislikes, jobs, education, pay scale or their own vaginas. Fuck that!

Lady? Why should any of us be a LADY when abusers, molesters, and rapists hide behind the mask of GENTLEMAN all the time. Women have very legitimate reasons to not believe or trust men yet we are vilified as bitches, she-devils, banshees, sluts, whores and on and on just because we might have wounded a man’s pride somewhere down the line 5, 10, 15, 20 or 30 years ago?

Your pride? I would take a bruised ego and dented pride any day over being choked unconscious, slapped, hair ripped out of my head, drug across a room, thrown down stairs, beaten, stabbed, shot, raped and murdered any day. Pride! Get out of here with that!

Seriously, get out of here with that nonsense and start doing better. We are better than this and I’m ashamed at how little we have progressed. Boys can be tenderhearted, kind, loving and considerate just like girls can. It’s how they are taught to interact with others that makes the difference.

The issue of abuse of women will never end until men are taught to value themselves enough to invest in their hearts and stop being so fearful of women taking over. Aren’t you tired of this shit yet? I know I am.

© 2018 L.A. Askew
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to “In the Land of Reverie” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

When begging to be more connected to your fellow humans makes you feel even further apart…

Elle Reverie Leave a comment

How did we get to THIS point in time?

How in the hell did we let this happen?

Oh, and we definitely let this happen. Whether through anger, apathy or psychotic spite, WE let this happen and only we can pull our battered hearts and minds back from the gaping black maw of total emotional, intellectual and moral annihilation.

Welcome to the Ununited States of Division. In this new world, we insult those who refuse to adhere to outdated mores and we dig in deep, shaking our heads in steadfast opposition to any belief that is counter to those taught to us by good old Mom and Dad. Never giving a thought to the times Mom and Dad espoused racist and misogynistic ideologies by applying labels like “those people can’t be trusted” to minorities they had a beef with and “women need to know their place” when discussing equal pay for equal work.

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Or, when announcing your plan to go to college. “What? Do you think you are better than us or something?” Get married to a nice man who will take care of you they said. Okay, umm, but what if that isn’t what I want? “What YOU want? That’s a fairytale. People like us (women) don’t have the luxury of independence.” 

Damn Mom! Great fucking advice. Sorry, but you’ll need to step aside because my free will and intense determination are about to do a burnout on your puritanically Stepford-esque mindset. Does not compute…..never will compute.

Personal refrain aside, I hear the rousing cry from the male caucasian throng and from distant school acquaintances and formerly close family members alike; “Why can’t it be like it used to be?” You know, when everyone didn’t know everyone else’s political or religious views. Like, you know, in the good old days! Yeah, let’s go back to that!

When? The 20th century or before? Anytime from 1900 to before the internet being gifted to the populace and before they really got to see just how badly average people were being taken advantage of and abused? That time? Yes?  Oh, I see…before people became aware of how shit really goes down! Got it.

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I rant about my wish for humanity to get it together. To think about how purposeful insensitivity maligns and erodes the hearts and minds of the altruistic until there is nothing left but take, take, take it all before THOSE people try to get it first! Win at all costs even if it means trampling those with sincere intent and compassion to spare for any and all.

A pleading hand is extended to bridge the massive gap that divides us only to be slapped down in derision. “LOSERS! Only the smartest, richest and most devious will prevail! Suckers won’t know what hit them again in 2020!” 

It’s all pathetic and sad and also, predictable. So predictable that even though it hurts my heart to see and hear the evil the supposed righteous perpetrate I am comforted by the notion that my soul’s hot rod, fueled by renewed determination and copious amounts of free will is still ready to hit the road!

We are only isolated if we allow it and I DO NOT allow it! I get that some fear a power shift and they fear this because of how shitty they treated those viewed as “beneath”  them and worry that the desire for retribution will be too strong to resist. I get that completely and, trust me, dishing out some sweet, sweet retribution does sound mighty delicious but, I’m better than that. We are better than that.

Learn it and then live it so the chains of fear may release you. It’s a big world out there! Stop being a fucking disappointment!!!

© 2018 L.A. Askew
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to “In the Land of Reverie” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

The lessons learned after the loss of a loved one…

Elle Reverie Leave a comment

Loss.

It never gets easier.

Over the past year, I have lost family members to grudges, jealousy, and plain old meanness. This past week though, I lost the only father figure I had in my life to the ravages of old age; the kind of fight that beats both the body and mind to ragged pieces and leaves family members emotionally shattered. This particular beat-down lasted 3 years and while we begged him to “hang on” the reality was that we totally missed the mark on understanding what he really wanted.

He wanted to be free.

Free from pain, free from the depression associated with loss of mobility, loss of meaningful purpose and loss of the life he once led. I get that now. I get that he wasn’t purposely trying to hurt us by checking out months before he actually died. He just wanted to be out of pain, both physically and mentally and the only relief available was to be found in the finality of death. We didn’t want to see the simplicity in this and chose to make it about our own needs.

For those left behind the lingering regrets will gnaw at our own minds as grief is want to do and, if left unchecked, those regrets will start the insidious erosion process on our bodies as well. The goal now is to stop the cycle and choose how we approach this new chapter in our lives; live with regrets or LIVE.

I want to live. I want to make my dad of 8 years proud of me. Proud in a way my biological father would never have the capacity to understand. To say that I didn’t send a grief-stricken plea out to the universe with a note attached that said, “I needed you to be my dad a little longer” would be a lie because I did. I had to voice that truth and then promise to do better going forward.

I will do that for this dear man who I grew to love and respect. Whose stories about the exciting life he led were always a highlight of every visit and whose quick wit was always several steps ahead of mine and so awe-inspiring. I wanted to hear more stories because they connected me further to him and also made me realize that we had a lot in common. But, since that’s no longer possible it becomes my duty to pass what I know of him on and to live my best life for this amazingly witty man who literally impacted the lives of so many doing what he did the best which was teaching.

We learn from loss if we choose to listen to the stories it tells. Choose to listen.

© 2018 L.A. Askew
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to “In the Land of Reverie” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Loyalty and freedom; two words that don’t mean what many people think they mean.

Elle Reverie Leave a comment

Words. I know a lot of words. I use a lot of words.

They may not all be the BEST words or the SMARTEST words or the RICHEST words but the ones I know get the job done.

*Click each hyperlinked BEST WORD below for it’s equally SMART and RICH definition*

And, just to clarify I am indeed poking fun at the Grand Orange Wizard of DC and his obsessive need to TELL anyone that will listen or read a disjointed toilet tweet just how SMART and RICH he is and how all of his rage influenced decisions are the BEST.

I don’t have to pretend to be anything. I let people take in my words and then make up their own mind without requiring a loyalty oath or a DNA test. The only test I require of the people in my life is the DON’T BE A DICK TO OTHERS test. You treat others like second class citizens, no matter what walk of life or country they are from and we won’t be friends, ever.

If the measure of your GREATNESS is determined by how many people you can tear down in order to artificially build yourself up then you are not the best at all. You are hollow. And, rotten…just like this tree below.

DSCN5437-Spectacularly-rotten-hollow-willow

Recently I told a dear friend that I finally felt FREE. I told them that I finally had an actual HOME and what that meant to me. We chatted back and forth about the difference between freedom or being unburdened or some other word that describes being untethered from the burdens of the past and it was nice. In this comfortable exchange of words, ones  I was able to choose without hesitation, I could both feel and see my path to reconnecting with my soul and finding true liberation.

THAT was the WORD I was looking for!!! LIBERATION!

I have liberated myself from the past and the people who built mile high roadblocks all around me. I crawled up and out. No longer contained. No longer quietly taking it. I am and furthermore will now be most LOYAL to myself.  And, no matter what crazy-making gaslighting words those opposed to personal liberation use…to myself I will remain most steadfastly true.

When we lose our own ability to think freely and choose freely then peace will remain out of reach for those that need it most. Our peace, the peace that should belong to the collective GOOD of the world will remain stamped down under the foot of those who oppress in order to profit financially and to stroke their huge ego.

YOU DO NOT OWN ME

YOU WILL NEVER SILENCE ME

WHEN BODIES CEASE TO EXIST…WORDS LIVE ON

Read up on why powerful women are seen as so threatening…

No one will take my ability to be me away nor will they force contradictory views upon me to wear like a razor wire collar. Hypocrisy will not be made invisible, hidden behind a costume crafted to depict biblical morality. No, it will not. I will be the wind that continues blowing, gusting to create massive billows that rip their charade into undeniable tatters. The squeaky wheel gets the grease and the loudest thunderclap produces the most spectacular lightning.

be-yourself

I AM HOME

I AM FREE

I AM LOYAL TO ME

My power is my ability to speak the truth and not be swayed by the purposeful nonsense of those who do not want me to be liberated, outspoken or educated. That may be their wish but wishes don’t always come true sweeties and this woman has many arrows at the ready to shoot down liberation killing bombs. It’s the AMERICAN WAY after all! Right? Or is that only reserved for white Christian males? It’s a great time to have a penis and a bible!

I see what is going on. I always have. It’s just that now the overtness of the self-labeled “right” has never felt so wrong and I am at an age where I no longer give a shit whether some old white fucker values my contributions to this world or not.  So now, I will continue to contribute at an even faster pace just to doubly piss the privileged  “right” folk off.

You may have written the rules and started the war but I am exceptionally adept at being versatile and can change direction at the drop of a Southern Gentleman’s Hat.

Take cover boys!

BOOM!

© 2018 L.A. Askew
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to “In the Land of Reverie” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Where differences matter the most

Elle Reverie Leave a comment

Don’t you just love the meme parade on social media following all tragic events of late? And by “of late” I mean every damn day!

I can’t wake up to good news lately because, well, it’s all awful 24/7 in Orange Tweet Land but it’s the, “let’s be fair” or “let’s love everyone even though they don’t share your political beliefs” bullshit that fans my fire of dislike for humankind the most.

Y’all just don’t get it!

Or, maybe you do and you just don’t care. I’m thinking it’s this one because caring takes effort and, WOMP-WOMP it’s becoming more and more apparent that “say it like it is” is really code for SHOW US HOW MUCH OF AN ASSHOLE YOU REALLY ARE! It’s okay, really, the Orange Anus in the White House will praise and excuse you and then pardon you if need be. That still doesn’t take away any of the stink…just so we are clear.

*Click the Womping link above and just read the vile comments from American citizens that feel pretty righteous typing away on their computer keyboards and phones in their non-cage homes.

Come on out you constitutional experts! You barkers of propaganda designed to do the very thing your memes and psshh comments are trying to wave off: Separate us even further. Do you really not see this? To condescendingly say: “I don’t hate people who don’t believe the same way I do” while posting obvious untruths and purposely incendiary links to articles, videos, and memes that drip of every ism around is gas lit Hamburger Helper. It’s not even the foie gras of propaganda. It’s the cheapest form of party line gruel.

It literally makes me both cry and laugh to see how well psychological warfare has worked on the very people whom I have heard say, “I don’t believe in that psychobabble, mumbo-jumbo!” Yeah, you may not BELIEVE in it but it still exists and its effectiveness has never been more evident than now based on how many families and friendships social media has torn apart since the Age of Orange began.

*I use derogatory nicknames for Tiny Hands 45 because:

#1) He set the example so if it’s good enough for him then it’s doubly good enough for regular folk! And,

#2) I fear saying his name 3 times in a row, like Beetlejuice, because, well, we know how that went and I don’t like sandworms or zombies.

Anyway, getting back to the topic at hand; in short, some differences really do matter. Like the difference between people who are and aren’t horrified with government sanctioned child abuse. I get it, shit has been going down for a long time and very little was done BUT, we are in the HERE AND NOW. It is in our fucking faces non-stop and the fucking tweets keep coming and the fucking asshole talking heads, oh sorry…apologists, well really, justifiers for the shitty behavior of a goddamn sitting US president all find great glee in this situation.

Hear that? THEY APPEAR TO BE OKAY WITH THIS SHIT!!!!!!!

Gotta secure the border. Gotta take back American jobs. Gotta, gotta, gotta….uh, how about gotta stop abusing children, period.

We all know the government doesn’t give a shit about the abuse of American children or THAT would have been taken care of long ago but to now turn that stern hand on children from Mexico, El Salvador, Honduras, you know, the countries Grand Poobah Cheeto deemed “shithole countries” is pretty telling. For a country with a massive Orange Talking Head that touts how great he is, THIS ain’t so great.

And Y’all wonder why people hate us? Really? You wonder?

My point here is this; don’t tell me to respect your beliefs if one of them includes justifying the abuse of children. On that, we will remain very fucking different. On that, we will remain in constant disagreement and on THAT we will remain extremely distant. Count on it.

 

© 2018 L.A. Askew
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to “In the Land of Reverie” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
To steal the creative work of another to use as your own is the grand height of laziness.

On pain, suffering and depression: How to tell the arrogantly insensitive to shove it.

Elle Reverie Leave a comment

Seeing all of the abject pain and utter suffering of human beings lately, whether they are friends, family, strangers or even celebrities, makes me search for the proper words to describe how it makes me feel.

In short, it makes me feel angry but also hopeful that I and many others can and will tell those who have no interest in understanding or helping to stop being a roadblock. Stop being patronizing. Stop being arrogant. Stop being ignorant. And, stop lying to yourself. I know you feel some of the same things I have…I know you feel unsure about how to own those feelings.

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FEEL..a word that I was taught to fear and avoid at all costs.  While I can’t say that I am a “typical” depressed person (whatever that is) I can say that I have felt that removing myself from the world would make life easier for others. I entertained this thought because of negative things I was told and after that further negative things began to cultivate in my brain until I believed them to be the only solution. I don’t know now. After reading what I just wrote maybe I am a typical depressed person. I’m okay with that label.

The belief that checking out would be for the greater good of those in my life was all I had since I had no support from family. I was too afraid to tell anyone I knew that their supposed strong friend was actually racked with doubt, fear, and anxiety. When we FEEL we tend to care more about others and ourselves and when we share those feelings, well then, that just makes many people fucking uncomfortable. And, we certainly don’t want to make assholes uncomfortable right?

Wrong.

My new goal in life is to take uncomfortable subjects and smear them right in the faces of the willfully cruel and self-centered pricks of the world. A massive glob of feelings-filled reality jam if you will. Except there is nothing sweet or enjoyable about it, unlike real, fruit jam which I love!

The point here is to expose the “selective feeling and lack of understanding” or self-deceiving crowd to the inner workings of the true human experience in the hope that they will either learn something and grow from it or they will shut the fuck up and crawl back under their rocks. Pretty simple I think. You either give a shit and try to help or you close your excrement filled mouth and stay the hell out of the conversation until a proper education occurs.

Mean? Maybe, but guess what? I’m done caring what others think of my empowerment goal and it’s not like that sentiment isn’t felt in a reverse fashion by the current hate mongers that claim to be in “charge.” There is nothing inclusive or understanding about what the Orange Anus is crop dusting all over the reasonable citizens of this fine country so to think any of his followers don’t wish ill on anyone not like them is naive and dangerous.

It’s a modified “kind but cautious” approach. I can empathize and help but I can also unleash a verbal blowtorch along with an ass-kicking if needed. Reasonable doesn’t mean weak or pacifist.  It means I will listen to reason and weigh the facts but if you give me a reason to believe that you wish me harm?  IT IS ON!

I write all of this in the wake of numerous reports of the uptick in suicides in America, the deaths of Kate Spade and Anthony Bourdain and also the increase in human slugs inciting the vulnerable to possibly consider or complete suicide because of horrific and vicious things they post online while trolling.

Why do you assholes do this? I can ask the question but I know I will get vague spittles of bigger lies that cannot be admitted because trolls do not possess the courage to be open and honest.

So, now, the movement I want to start is one of speaking, out loud, about pain, fears, anguish, hurt and loneliness. Ask about it if you are unsure and your gut says something is wrong. ASK. When we ask questions we learn a lot about others and ourselves. We learn that we are both alike and not alike at all. We learn about our capacity to help others and, most importantly, we learn that we are not alone. There are many weird, scared, anxious, insecure yet wonderful people out there just like us.

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Listen to others when they reciprocate in kind. Listen to understand and not to reply. If you are thinking about what you will say in response before someone has even finished sharing their deepest pain with you then go back to the beginning because you aren’t helping anyone.

What if you have no reply? What if you have no common experience to offer? Listening is just that, silent concentration on the speaker and if there is no common experience to share then please do not try to make something up.  They will know you are lying and for what? We all don’t have to live through similar things in order to give a damn about one another.

It truly isn’t that hard!

Speak out. Ask questions. Listen. Learn. Love.

Repeat until there are more kind people than assholes in the world. Hear that, assholes? Your days in power are numbered.

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© 2018 L.A. Askew
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to “In the Land of Reverie” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Moving on

Elle Reverie Leave a comment

I moved.

Both physically and mentally.

It was time.

The house I lived in for 18 years, a house filled with good ghosts and bad ghosts, the specters of a past I have both hated and loved. So what now? The answer to that is this; I finally get to go to a place I am wanted, loved and respected. And, it feels nice.

Some people are miserable after they move…I was not!

I’m not saying that no one has loved me in my past. My grandparents loved me, aunts, uncles, cousins and I’m sure, somewhere deep in the cortex of their brains, my parents and siblings loved me at one time. They had an odd way of showing it but I am sure a small sliver of like, if not love, was there briefly. And if not, I am not going to lose any sleep over it.

Bye, bye, bye…

The stories my former house can tell are a mixture of hilarity, aggravation, joy, anger and finally, resignation. Some I recall with relish and others I wish would slip quietly from my mind, never to be replayed again.

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I feel the same way about most of my childhood homes as well and we moved around a lot! But, none of those homes had my name on the deed nor did I pay the mortgage. This house was paid for not only with my hard-earned wages but also a pound of flesh here and there combined with nearly every ounce of my self-respect.

And now, its sold. A done deal. A new start for someone else and I am glad.

My only hope is that the bad juju does not stay attached to either the house or myself.

Release, restore and relax!!!! It’s over woman. You are finally free!

© 2018 L.A. Askew
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to “In the Land of Reverie” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

The silence continues…

Elle Reverie Leave a comment

It has been 3 months since I have heard anything from my immediate family. Nary a text from sisters, nieces or nephew. Radio silence. Not even a short email or text asking for clarification about what happened. It’s almost as if they don’t give a shit! I say that with great sarcasm because…I know they don’t and laughing it off is my coping mechanism.  Ha! Ha! My family is a hateful lot of selfish assholes! So hilarious right? One sister’s emotional outbursts rule the rest of the family.

In this time I have sold my house, planned a move and my dear daughter graduated from high school. The last event they knew about but didn’t acknowledge except for one blurb via social media to my daughter from her cousin.

This is own new life.

A fractured family that no longer cares about our momentous occasions (unless the occasions are their own) and the weight of this realization sits square on mine and my daughter’s shoulders.

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The guilt I feel about offering her such an uncaring family tree is immense and something I think about every day. She has no caring and involved blood relatives left on my side of the family that she can count on for true emotional support. And, to now know that they don’t care about her or her accomplishments breaks my heart. All I can do is reiterate that the failure is theirs and not hers but I know she still feels the sting and my guilt remains.

Believe me, (and this is a Reverie “believe me” not a Trump one) it has been a tempting option to just call and try to smooth things over for my daughter’s sake. But then, I remember that I did that several times before and the shit kept rolling my way. And, I also took into account the respect I earned for not letting those who wish me ill get away with continually heaping verbal abuse upon my head. My daughter’s respect means much more to me than any one-sided, short-lived truce between me and a sister who has made it clear that her true allegiance is with herself, her spouse and her children, and is not shared with me or my daughter.

In the past, if something bad was happening to my younger sister or her family everyone was expected to rally around and offer support, which I did. I helped my nephew get an apartment on his own by acting as the guarantor on his lease since he had no credit and his parents had poor credit. I also helped out twice when he had car issues. Although, the second time I wasn’t quick enough to jump to and got accused of brushing family off to have dinner with friends when in reality I was offering crisis support to a client. I felt no need to explain that to my nephew or my sister at first because it was really none of their business but even if I had the selfish response would have probably been the same.

I forgave that particular outburst and was willing to move on yet the resentment apparently lingered on her part and the emotional imbalance grew. This is very evident in hindsight and I do not foresee receiving a peace offering in the near future…or ever really.

When my sister expressed how much our parents had hurt her and her children, I supported her without hesitation. When our mother chose to send a scathing letter to my siblings in defense of the indefensible abuse we experienced I backed my sister completely. During that time I also expressed to my mother descriptions of the abuse I, myself suffered. I effectively shut the door on any relationship I had left with my parents but did so gladly because it was for the right reason. I was defending her and her family while also standing up for myself.

Do you always have to forgive?

If the tables were turned?

Suck it up! Our problems are more important stupid snowflakes!

This I know and this I accept.

Does it still hurt and do regrets linger? Hell yes! When I think about everything that has transpired over the past few years the tears immediately well up and I get a burning lump stuck in my throat. That is pure pain moving up from my gut to my mouth, ready to burst forth in the loudest fucking scream imaginable. I want to punch things, to kick out and sob until I’m weak. I want to stop feeling it but, I can’t.

Am I angry at my family for what has happened?

I was for a long time.

But now? I am simply sad.

Sad to know that if the silence continues they will not get to know my daughter as an adult. Sad that they will not get to visit me in my new home. Sad that they will not get to experience all the great things my daughter, their niece, and cousin, will accomplish while in college and after. Sad that they will miss weddings, births, birthdays any potential family get-together with us and all for what? Built up envy and resentment disguised as a disagreement online over gun control? Amazing! I know it isn’t just about the latter but it’s amazingly ridiculous nonetheless.

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With all of this…I still hang on to hope. Hope that 3 months will not turn into 3 years and hope that I someday we can all sit down and talk, face-to-face like adults rather than tossing nasty texts and Facebook comments back and forth. To facilitate this I set up parameters that limit my sister’s ability to text me or contact me on social media but email, phone and in person are still options I will permit. Sending a nasty text or leaving a shit comment online are cowardly acts so, I figured, if I take that avenue away then, if the message is important enough, it will get to me.

I hope.

Again, giving it time, giving it space to breathe. It’s all I can do.

© 2018 L.A. Askew
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to “In the Land of Reverie” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.