DMHMRSAS has had its current name for more than 20 years. During that time, many states have updated their agencies’ names to reflect current values and perceptions and to address feelings about certain language and biases. Also, during that time, many, many people, including legislators and advocates, have complained about the Department’s name being unwieldy and far too long. Thus, the time for giving this department a new, more current name has arrived.

The Department’s partners statewide and general public are invited to review the options below and respond with a preferred choice by July 31, 2008. As you review the options below, please keep in mind the goals of the name change:

• To shorten the current name and acronym,
• To consistently use positive terms related to the impact of the Department’s services, rather than listing disabilities or conditions addressed by those services, and
• To use terms that are more reflective of the Department’s values and mission statement and more inclusive of current programs (versus exclusive ‘silo’ terms) and any future additions to the services the Department provides and the populations served.

These choices are listed in no preferential order, only alphabetically:

• Department of Behavioral and Developmental Services (DBDS)
• Department of Behavioral Health and Supportive Services (DBHSS)
• Department of Behavioral and Supportive Services (DBSS)
• Department of Supportive and Recovery Services (DSRS)

Please review the options above and click here to respond with a preferred choice or an alternative by July 31, 2008.

Efim Bondarev, a driver for Careful Bus Incorporated, was charged with sexual abuse and child endangerment and after he was reported by a bus matron who said she witnessed the abuse. Video Report available from WABC.

For some odd reason, my life has been filled with people afflicted with this horrendous mental condition.  It really is beyond comprehension to most of us how scary this actually is for the person suffering and everyone around them.  For most, it ends up destroying lives (not only their own) and their soul.  They become someone completely different all together, someone they don't even know.  

Bi-Polar suffers are not dumb.  Normally they have high IQ's.  They can be charismatic, successful, charming and fun.  In sales, and in say the stock broker professions, being Bi-Polar can even give you an edge when you are on a high.  That extra bit of energy.  Its one of the reasons that it is really difficult to "spot" someone with BiPolar unless you know what to look for.  

That being said, how does a regular person see the signs of a friend or a loved one having BiPolar disorder?  What makes them stand out from people who simply get depressed now and then?  What do you do if you think your friend, family member or loved one "could" have this horrible disease and chemical imbalance of the mind?

First, Does the person lie about things that aren't important to make themselves look better?  Do they feel the need to fill their ego with "things" and people and stimulation all of the time?  Are they down one minute, and up the next having a "Jekyl and Hyde" type of personality? Do they seem compulsive with needing attention from friends or the opposite sex?  Are they addicted to alcohol, or drugs, or partying, or behaviors that are inappropriate?  Do they have issues in every single relationship they have with them always being the "victim" in the situation when describing it to anyone else?  Are they jealous or possessive?  Do they control or manipulate their partner?  Do they hold their family (children) hostage against family if their demands are not met? Do they have bouts of extreme insomnia where they are up all night and sleep all day, never getting anything done?  Or oppositely do they all of a sudden become super motivated and tackle huge tasks with little sleep and a huge adrenaline rush?

First of all, ignoring it will not make it go away, no matter how much you want it to.  Letting the little things slide only hurts you, and that person, and everyone around you.  BiPolar doesn't get better on its own.  It gets worse.  Way worse.  The person spirals down into the lowest of the low without explanation, turning to all of their addictions, fetishes, habits, and stimulations to get themselves through the day.  For some its alcohol and drugs, others its gambling, or sex/porn, mostly though its a combination of all of them.  When one stops working, they move to the other.  Its a vicious cycle.

Here is the thing, do you remember my post a few days ago about Girl you cannot fix that man?  Well it applies to women too.  And with BiPolar, you are on a uphill battle all of the way.  

One of the biggest problems with BiPolar is that when the person is at a stable point, they are loving, rational, great people.  They promise they will never ever get out of control again.  But, unless they get the help they need, and rigorously stick to the program you are in for one hell of a roller-coaster ride.  Their inner voice is your enemy in keeping them on track.  Everything starts to stabilize, that inner voice starts telling them that they no longer need the medications, that they are cured.  They start testing their boundaries over and over again, until they are right back where they started.  

Unfortunately these people need to be regarded and treated as snakes.  You may choose to keep the snake in your life.  But they are still snakes and need to be treated as such.  Limiting their ability to do damage to your life and theirs is the best you can do.  Making sure that they keep consistent on their medication and food plan and keeping in constant touch with their therapists.  

I have known many brave souls try this route and fail.  Why did they fail?  Was it because they didn't love the person with BiPolar enough?  Did they run at the first sign of trouble?  The answer is that the person with BiPolar didn't love themselves enough to reach out and get the help they needed.  They refused it, allowing themselves to go into the black hole and trying to drag their families in with them.  At that point it becomes self preservation for themselves and their children and escape was needed before more damage was done to the next generation.  

Very few BiPolar people manage to get the help they need and stick with it.  Its so sad.  It is a constant thing that they deal with their entire lives.  One morning they wake up after years of being dormant and go on a huge spending binge or become a sexaholic or do other self-destructive things.  Each person is different how the disease manifests itself.

I hope that people learn to understand that BiPolar is a disease.  A true chemical imbalance of the brain and how it functions.  Its a cousin to OCD and shares many of the same characteristics.  The person themselves aren't bad to start out with, but if they go without help the end result will be bad.  

Maybe this will help someone out there in Cyberspace ... I hope so.

disclaimer:  I am not a doctor, nor do I have any FORMAL medical training.  The information that I provide is from my years of study due to my own disease.  It is not intended to replace medical advice nor should you not seek medical advice.  Use this information in addition to the stuff the doctor tells you.

Do you remember your first kiss?

I go through these spells where I am extremely nostalgic and think back on my past, which is a mix of the very good and the very bad; all years contained within a space of 10 years. One of the chief modes of therapy for me is to write about it, no matter how bad the writing or how intimate the subject, writing has always purged me of my demons. This is why I've kept a journal for over 30 years. If I didn't write, I'd go crazy with thoughts; swirling always in my brain and begging for release. Let me share with you an excerpt of something I'm writing (an autobiographical piece). Forgive the blatant sexuality and the naked honesty. My whole life was sexualized early, so it was all I really knew and all that I acted on for so long that it has become a vital part of making me who I am today. It's part of me for good or ill. Here it is:

Initials are used for anonymity. Warning: may trigger:

Shortly after my sexual awakening at the hands of a guardian at the age of 9, I began noticing my body for the first time. I couldn't help it because it was brought to my attention for me. I was constantly "on call" for his perusal and comment and his use. I began menstruating when I turned 11 years old. I only remember NOT being shocked at my period showing up because I saw a film at school about it. My mother was useless when it came to explaining about the real mechanics of anatomy and sexual matters. She was constantly drugging herself to cope with living in our nightmare so we never had “the talk.” She merely turned a drugged and blind eye to what was really going on. I never needed to know actual particulars about sex, because I learned it from experience.

By Jr. High my breasts had grown to a C cup and were still growing. I went through puberty with a nicely shaped body and pretty breasts But I wasn't aware of the meaning of all this outside the realm outlined for me in my home. I was trying to hide my body and hide from my guardian. However, boys were beginning to notice me in a sexual way at school and I felt bombarded from all sides. Everything that happened to my body was open season for my guardian to comment on or to enjoy when he felt like it. The same was happening at school. Some saw me as community property in that way only Jr. High boys can accomplish. I cannot begin to explain how my home life violated my sense of boundaries and privacy. There is nothing that is yours to discover on your own, nothing that is a joy to see for the first time, nothing that is truly yours. There is nothing new for you to feel within the context of safety and love and innocent discovery. You have felt it already in the context of ugliness and shame. I would never be the same and would always feel as if my body were not my own. I need to explain this background to highlight how bizarrely joyful this first kiss was for me.

While in grade school and Jr. High, I made some friends but not many. My small town of 3500 afforded us a small venue upon which to act out our small lives and to dwell on our small thoughts. I became a generic friend to every girl and best friend to none until the sixth grade when I met my best friend for life. But it was the boys that I interacted with the most. For good or ill, I was always interacting with the boys. I remember my first real kiss at the ripe age of 12 and the intense sexual longing that accompanied it was something I remember to this day. The boy who kissed me was 13. The boy was a neighbor of my sister's best friend. L and I had all stayed overnight at this friend's house for a slumber party. It was a fine, warm summer night.We had been playing football and tag with D's brothers and the neighbors all afternoon. It was dark outside and time for us all to go inside for the night. While everyone went inside, I lingered behind talking to this boy. We were standing by a large tree in the backyard. He was leaning against it and I was facing him. We had enjoyed our evening playing games and he was kind of flirting with me and chasing me around all night long while we played tag and football. It was all very perfect and very innocent. At least it was innocent for me. The air was thick with humidity as only a summer evening in a small midwestern town can be. I could hear crickets and see lightening bugs flashing. Everything was hushed and the surroundings were ideal for what I like to call “my first real kiss.”

After chatting about this and that, this boy, named R, leaned over slowly and oh-so-tenderly kissed me on the mouth. I'm not sure how long it lasted (it seemed forever) but I remember how soft his lips were. We were too young to French kiss like they do today with grasping mouths and gaping maws, so it was pretty chaste and innocent by today's standards. However, I was still enthralled. I remember just feeling the tip of his tongue brush mine. His taste was sweet. I leaned in and he raised his hand to rest on my arm. His other hand reached up to cup my cheek. That darting tingly elevator bottoming out feeling hit me in the pit of my solar plexus.The kiss ended reluctantly, we leaned apart and said goodnight to each other. I went inside, replaying that kiss over and over in my mind all night long. I could not sleep. I remember that I was incredibly excited and replayed what happened over and over and over. I wasn't sure what that meant. It was a totally new feeling. It’s amazing what you don’t know at that age or what you believe is true about your body and sexuality. I did not equate the kind of sexuality perpetrated on me by my guardian with any kind of sexual feeling with boys, because they felt so vastly different. I was confused and there was nobody to explain it to me.

After that kiss, I felt I had a crush on this boy, but he moved away and nothing more came of it. But I will always, always cherish that kiss. It showed me a whole world outside of the confines of the house where I grew up too fast. It was a way to recapture innocence lost and enjoy a completely unrestrained moment of joy associated with sensuality; one without fear of punishment or reprisal. It was pure joy and for that moment I was free.

Resources:

The Courage to Heal

Child Abuse Recovery Journal

Adult Survivors of Child Abuse

"We have a child that we would like to bring to the ranch," says the voice of the woman on the other end of the line. "We met him in Romania where we work with the orphans.  He is not an orphan, but it may be better if he was."

"You have my attention." I say.  I know a little of what the Romanian idea of an orphanage is.  For that statement to be made is utterly shocking.

"You see," she continues.  "He was returned to his mother after being found on the street. And she, in a drunken rage, attacked him with an axe."

"Excuse me."  I say.  "Did you say an axe?"

"Yes," she says.  "He has been sponsored to come here for facial reconstructive surgery.  After he has finished, we would like to bring him to the ranch before he has to go back to Romania."

Wow!  I am still in shock over the description, which caught me completely off guard.  I knew it would be bad, but an axe!  'Dear God, how does a mother come to that place? I can't imagine.  Help me to know what to say and do. I'm on foreign ground here.' 

"Of course he can come, bring him out."

And that is how we met Nicu.  The olive skin, black hair and eyes were what I had pictured. The scar from above the left eye making a droopy arc through his mouth to the right side of his chin, I had not.  We go through some basic horsemanship stuff.  Its sketchy at best, due to the fact that Nicu speaks no English, and I speak no Romanian. We rely on translators who are trying to come up with Romanian words that describe an old western saddle, latigo, cinch, bridle and other parts. 

And the fact that Nicu isn't listening one hundred percent. He keeps staring at the man with the funny hat that he believed existed only in legends, this "cowboy". 

I found Nicu to be a quick study as far as riding.  He sat well, had good control and was doing so well that he earned a ride off lead.  As I unclasped the lead rope of the horse, I whispered to Comanche, one of our perfect horses, "Take care of him, he needs this"  and let go.  He walked around to the right.  Completely relaxed.  I see the legs squeeze and the walk becomes a trot.  His concentration has narrowed to where he is staring at the spot between Comanche's ears.  He rounds the far corner of the arena and Comanche loses her perfect horse status as she breaks into a fast canter back toward the gate.  Dark eyes widen at the feel of the power and speed of the animal. Then the ugly scar on the face of a broken boy becomes beautiful as it twists and bends itself into an ear-to-ear grin.  Dark hair flies as his head rolls back and he laughs out loud. Comanche stops, right in front of me as she has been taught, and she has regained any lost status in my book, for she has just given a boy the wonderful gift of laughing. 

After much more laughing and picture taking with his horse and the American cowboy, Nicu leaves. 

I don't know if I will ever see him again, or if I will be able to know what happens to him, but I owe him.  For he left me with a picture in my head of the most uniquely beautiful, smiling face that I have ever seen, and the feeling that my Savior was watching that day, and He was smiling too.

The main reason for this is that people often fail to distinguish between culture and religion -- two things that are completely different. In fact, Islam condemns oppression of any kind whether it is towards a woman or humankind in general.

The Quran is the sacred book by which Muslims live. This book was revealed 1400 years ago to a man named Muhammad –peace be upon him-, who would later become the Prophet –peace be upon him-. Fourteen centuries have passed and this book has not been changed since, not one letter has been altered.

In chapter 33, entitled Surah Al-Ahzaab (The Clans), verse 59 Allah The Exalted Almighty Says (what means): "O Prophet, tell your wives and your daughters and the woman of the believers to bring down over themselves (part) of their outer garments. That is more suitable that they will be known (as free respectable women) and not be abused. And ever is Allah Forgiving and Merciful." [Quran 33:59] This verse shows that Islam makes wearing a Hijaab necessary. Hijaab is the word used for covering, not only the headscarves (as some people may think) but also wearing loose clothes that are not too bright.

Sometimes, people see covered Muslim women and they think of this as oppression. This is wrong. A Muslim woman is not oppressed, in fact, she is liberated. This is because she is no longer valued for something material, such as her good looks or the shape of her body. She compels others to judge her for her intelligence, kindness, honesty and personality. Therefore, people judge her for who she actually is.

When Muslim women cover their hair and wear loose clothes, they are obeying the orders of their Lord to be modest, not cultural or social mores. In fact, Christian nuns cover their hair out of modesty, yet no one considers them “oppressed”. By following the command of Allah, Muslim women are doing the exact same thing.

The lives of the people who responded to the Quran have changed drastically. It had a tremendous impact on so many people, especially women, since this was the first time that the souls of man and women were declared equal -- with the same obligations as well as the same rewards.

For the first time in history, women were granted economic independence in Islam. The money they bring in to marriage is theirs as well as the money they earn. In Islam, women are allowed to choose their own husbands and in extreme cases, ask for divorce. A woman has the right to be educated, contrary to what the contemporary world might think. The responsibility is that of the person who is raising her.

Islam is a religion that holds women in high regard. Long ago, when baby boys were born, they brought great joy to the family. The birth of a girl was greeted with considerably less joy and enthusiasm. Sometimes, girls were hated so much that they were buried alive. Islam has always been against this irrational discrimination against girls and female infanticide.

The Prophet Muhammad, PBUH, said: "Seeking knowledge is mandatory for every Muslim (male and female)." Men and women both have the capacity for learning and understanding. Since it is also their obligation to promote good behavior and condemn bad behavior in all spheres of life, Muslim women must acquire the appropriate education to perform this duty in accordance with their own natural talents and interests.

While maintenance of their homes, providing support to the husband and bearing, raising and teaching children are among the first and very highly regarded roles for a woman, if she has the skills to work outside the home for the good of the community, she may do so. However, this is allowed only as long as her family obligations are met and as long as she complies with the Islamic code of dress and conduct, with no intermingling with men in the workplace.

Islam recognizes and fosters the natural differences between men and women despite their equality. Some types of work are more suitable for men and other types for women. This differentiation in no way diminishes the effort or benefit of one gender over the other. God will reward both genders equally for the value of their work, though it may not necessarily be within the same sphere of activity.

The two great roles a woman plays in life are that of a wife and a mother. The Prophet –peace be upon him-, once said to a group of Companions:

Concerning motherhood, the Prophet Muhammad, PBUH, said: "Heaven lies under the feet of mothers." This implies that the success of a society can be traced to the mothers who raised it. The first and greatest influence on a person comes from the sense of security, affection and training received from the mother. Therefore, a woman having children must be educated and conscientious in order to be a skillful parent.

A man came to the Prophet, PBUH, and asked: "Who among my kinfolk is worthy of my good companionship?" The Prophet –peace be upon him-, replied: "Your mother" three times before saying: "Your father." This indicates the impact that a mother has in a person's life. So women are highly honored in this great religion.

Islam is a religion that treats women fairly. The Muslim woman was given a role, duties and rights 1400 years ago that most women do not enjoy even today in the West. These rights are from God and are designed to maintain a balance in society; what may seem “unjust” or “missing” in one place is compensated for or explained in another place.

"The best among you are those who are the best to their wives." This shows that Islam highly encourages treating the wives well. They should be shown love, respect and care. To foster the love and security that comes with marriage, Muslim wives have various rights. The first of the wife's rights is to receive dowry, a gift from the husband, which is part of the marriage contract and required for the legality of the marriage.

The second right of a wife is maintenance. Despite any wealth she may have, her husband is obligated to provide her with food, shelter and clothing. He is not forced, however, to spend beyond his capability and his wife is not entitled to make unreasonable demands.

Source: http://www.rasoulallah.net/subject_en.asp?hit=1&parent_id=82&sub_id=1823

Well, they didn't nearly as far as I wanted (sexual abuse charges filed), but it was recently declared to be unconstitutional. A small victory to be sure, but definitely better than nothing!

All this fucking palaver over me doing this now, before he lawyers up, & more importantly, while I'm safe over the pond. Yet 3 weeks later, 6 weeks before I have to go back to Scotland, we're still at square one. Nothing. Nowt, nada, zero. Sweet fuck all.

I mean, what the fucking fuck?!

Seems this detective is all fancy email headers & no goddamn action. It's fucking ridiculous & I'm tired of waiting. They have till the end of this week, I fucking mean it. I'm done with this shit.

Maybe if the local PD left their traffic stops alone & came after some real criminals.. but no, I guess busting some fool with a rock in his shoe is all their worth.. & that's the shit of it all, it's not even an officer we're waiting on. It's the real deal. He's already been on holiday one of those 3 weeks, so.. when he's on holiday nobody's raped during that week right? Otherwise he'd have someone to cover him, no? Someone who would have got back to us. Anyone?!

"If someone hasn't been in touch by friday, call me & I'll make things happen" he says. Well, we've fucking called & called & called. Bout time these fuckers pulled their damn socks up & did what they're paid for. All it takes is a half hour, a notepad & a fucking pen.

Is it any wonder the success rate is a mere 4%?! Hell, atleast the time frame blame is no longer my own.

Great work guys, I can really see the time, dedication & of course the very reasons you entered into this specialist profession.

it is not who you actually are, but who people think you are, that matters. — joseph kennedy

everything they [pharisees] do is done for men to see. — Jesus Christ

there is no way to disarm any man except through guilt. if there is not enough guilt, we must create it. but save us from the man of clear conscience. — ayn rand

when a person's sense of self-worth is blunted, he will deflect toward power to find fulfillment. that person will look to power over people to lift his own self worth. — viktor frankl

toxic faith is a destructive and dangerous relationship with a religion that allows the religion, not the relationship with God, to control a person's life. — stephen arterburn and jack felton, "toxic faith"

submitting to a cause, just like taking drugs or alcohol, is an escape from growing up and establishing a personal identity. — ken blue, "healing spiritual abuse"

the rulers of the gentiles lord it over them. — Jesus Christ

the will to power exists within every person, but in the [true] christian it is converted into the will to serve. — donald bloesch

whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant. — Jesus Christ

Woke up thinking about my last year of high school ...again. I don't even remember why exactly, I guess several things have come up about it.  I started to think about what I said the other day about all of the multiplicity starting to eek out into plain view. I've been thinking a lot for awhile about how that last year of high school really was Siren's year. I was there in and out, mostly though I realized now that it was her year. Just like how I think the ages from 12 to 16 or so were mostly 12's years.  I remember starting out my senior year thinking it was going to be a good last year.  My brother was out of the hospital, my parents were finally completely split up I didn't have to worry about that crap, I was feeling good about things.  It's funny I told my last shrink that I thought it was really weird I couldn't remember any of my teachers names, she looked at me like I was nuts and said she couldn't remember the names of hers so that wasn't weird. I though yeah well your like 50 and that was ages and ages ago, for me all my school years were practically yesterday. Well I feel like the should be like that anyway.  Slowly I have remembered my elementary school teachers names haha, I still have all of middle school blacked out, all of high school ...except that first semester of high school. Weird. Anyway, I never understood what happened until now.  I remember sitting in photography class it was almost the end of the period. I was just sitting there talking to friends, laughing, having a good time.  Then all of a sudden I didn't feel good. Not like in sick to my stomach or I'm coming down with something kind of way. It was different. I felt like I was swirling down a black hole and some dark cloud had swept in over me. I felt sorta heavy or something.  My notes in my notebook were changing. Well, I think like a lot of multiples I was obsessed with my handwriting and so I had read every book on handwriting out there. So, I kind of realized how your handwriting changes with mood (like if your angry it can get really pointy and angled).  I just left it at that, that something was going on I just didn't understand what or why. I stayed in this bizarre world for a long while.  All of my teachers noticed the 180. Finally after a horrible night terror that scared the crap out of my mom (though in the night terror it was me afraid of her), I went back to therapy.  After awhile of trying things out and trying medications, I was on Prozac. I think that at at the same time it helped me and that the side effects did affect me, I think some of the change that happened after that was Siren.  There was a huge personality change once I was in therapy.  I have noticed being around other people on Prozac that they also get a bizarre personality change but I don't think all of what I experienced was the Prozac. I say that because I still came out, I still remember a few chunks of my senior year. I was a coxswain for a while on the new crew team for example. That was an odd experience because I lot of the time I felt like I knew, I knew what I was supposed to do but I was so lost. I remember a couple regattas where I just was like "I know, I know this but I have no clue what I'm supposed to be doing right now!!". One regatta I had just comeback from taking a break (my weight was dropping so fast and I was just too much of a wreck) and I could not figure out how to turn the boat around. I knew I had done this a million times but I couldn't figure out what I was doing wrong and the boat master was just getting pissed. I broke down in front of everyone, I couldn't handle it. I don't know what happened, I guess it got turned the right way and we ended up winning (really funny because several boats sank the waves on that river were huge, the canceled races for bit after that). I got back on the deck afterward and heard me scolding me, "I told you to remember that this is a starboard rigged boat!!! That means you do everything backward to what you normally do!" I remember being a little mad that no one had reminded me of that when I was in the boat haha! So, while I went through this kind of stuff Siren I guess was having fun. I sometimes wonder now if Broken was there sometimes as well, that maybe she was around long before that fall. I only say that because I feel like sometimes I was watching things and at the same time I feel like maybe someone was watching with me. Someone who had deep deep fears of being severely hurt and that's what I am kind of hearing from Broken these days. I watched as Siren flirted with a friend of mine (well she had several things going I guess but this was the one that I cared about), I held on to how he treated 'me' back, I listened to the voice that was afraid that this was all an act and he would hurt me just like everyone else (that made no sense at the time everyone else who? Now I'm not so sure given all these flashback maybe there had been people in those earlier years), I watched as one part Siren (and probably others) and one part evil side effects of Prozac tried to sabotage the relationship. Eventually...after the events of the fall and long after the Prozac the relationship did get sabotaged. It still hurts me, but I hang onto it because...well to be honest I think in the worst hours I go back to the few moments I got with that person, especially those first days of the semester. When I really want to believe that this world holds nothing but evil and we really get stuck thinking people are just going to keep on hurting us and that is all we are good for...this person sticks out as one of the few people who tried to show me there are some good people out there. There are some people who do care and no matter what you do, they will stick with you. So maybe that's why I still sometimes wake up out of a dream, or find myself staring into space thinking about that year. Why I hung on to a silly old photo of some guy in my high school class that I took back on one of those first few days of the semester. A reminder of what's in the bottom of that pandora's box.

Timothy Hemi Schaefer, 19, faced sentencing submissions in the South Australian Supreme Court today after pleading guilty to murdering Jeffrey Edwin Payne, 56, in Adelaide in April 2007.
The court was told there was no evidence he had been a victim of Mr Payne.

But in a drunken rage he punched the frail man in the nose, stabbed him in the leg, followed him across a park and taunted him about being a child sex offender before killing him, the court was told.

Schaefer's lawyer Greg Mead said his client had suffered "appalling" abuse from an early age at the hands of a violent, alcoholic father who beat him every day. (news)

So Patti Ann (detest her enough, and she's detatched from my life enough, so that I can use her name) and the ex were now going to be a couple.  But, the ex didn't want to just "be a couple" with her - apparently it's only fun while you are sneaking.  He wanted to work things out; however, I wanted him to just get out.  I told him no, that he really needed to work things out with her not me - but this infighting quickly became very destructive on all of the kids.  The ex, during this time, had taken a shining to this woman's youngest daughter, and by the looks of them talking, painting, and in general just interacting  you would swear the sun and moon rose and set on her.  My lil one, still invisible. 

Patti Ann's sister threw her out - telling her she was making a fool of herself and being a homewrecker to her neighbors (wreck my home - more power to you).  She moved in, with her three youngest, and into my house while looking for her own place.  Very crowded and very awkward.  The ex and I were not an acting couple, and she and the ex had stopped consorting - basically we all cohabitated.  I had begun looking for a job since, now that we weren't "officially" together I felt empowered and he sought to keep me peaceful and non combatative so that all hell wouldn't break loose.  At this time; however, things were about to bust loose.

I would walk my daughter to school in the morning, come home, have coffee with the nutcase, start cleaning and then that's it.  I truly wouldn't know where the days would go, and feeling as though I might be splitting apart at the seams, wasn't anxious to find out.  Every night was brews and the ex with his rum.  I would try to keep to myself but it seemed that wherever I turned SHE was in my face.  Little by little I was losing my temper more and more.  Then, I began losing the nights altogether.  One particularly bad night was the night I lost my father in law, who was about the only person I had any respect for.  Another night of bedlam, which resulted in my going to the roof, alone with Patti Ann.  The ex came up just as I was headed for the edge - I didn't remember, I never remembered.  Later, the kids said they sent him up there because I was crying and Patti Ann was telling me that I was useless, nobody would ever love me, I would be better off dead.  The ex had no choice but to intercede with the kids going nuts.  When I got in, I stayed away from her as the kids tried keeping me distracted and occupied (which I learned from them later).  But, unaware as I was things would quickly boil over - the ex got a call from his mother - his step father wasn't breathing, please come over.  He went over right away, and an hour later I got a call, he had died of heart failure.  I knew he was heartbroken over the loss of his daughter, and he was miserable with the horror that was his wife - so, I believe, he allowed this to happen so he could go where he would be happy.  Only a week before, while driving me to a place in Coney, he had gotten severely confused about where he was and how to get where he was going - after being a car service driver for years.  Further, he was rubbing his shoulder and kept squeezing his hand.  I told his wife, but she took his word for it that he was fine.  I didn't believe it, he had already had bypasses, but I guess both of them wanted it to go the way it went.  But I digress.

The trouble, I had come to realize, was our guest.  I should have been clued in when she had went with me to the psychiatrist, at the psychiatrists request, and I was subsequently told that I needed to get away from her - she was not stable.  But the final straw came when my ex's mother came over and, after having met this person had her brother-in-law, then a very powerful person in a shady organization here, investigate her.  She came back accusing her of drugging us, that she was thrown out of places for putting things in people's drinks - and rolling them or taking advantage.  My wheels started to spin.  I talked to the kids - my son and his friend (who, despite my increasingly unstable behaviour were still on my side) and we blocked her from ever, but ever, getting near anything that I ingested.  After a couple of days, that did the trick, the fog began to lift and I began getting furious.  It was during those first couple of days that the ex got his revenge on my (or so I believe) for putting the kids, and the one I sent away particularly, before him.  He took me down to the basement to talk, and somehow had my hands chained to a pipe as he screamed at me about how he was my husband, how he should come first, how he was sick of waiting and was taking what was his.  Although he claimed he didn't know the pipe heated up (and he may not have at first) he did take his time getting me off them.  Too late to stop me from getting to third degree burns on my hands.  He rushed me upstairs, kept the kids away and stuck my hands out the bedroom window into the snow - but hospital, nah, too many explainations would be needed.  His story was we were letting water out of the boiler and I banged my hands up into a pipe - the kids were young enough to kind of believe it although I was cornered a number of times with a "tell the truth."  That night was a turning point for me.  The insanity around was out of hand.  Two nights later I took the ex downstairs and made it clear, I was throwing this woman and her kids out - get used to it - and he was welcome to go with them.  He claimed he was behind me, that things were nuts for him and he thought she had done something to him (stupid me bought that) and that she would be out the door in the morning. 

I went back upstairs and quietly walked in just in time to hear that nut tell my son, and his friend, that I didn't love them, they would have a better life if she was there for them rather than me.  I was sick and she needed to protect them.  Well, I wasn't sick or foggy and grabbed her by the hair and knocked the hell out of her.  I stopped when knocking her arm away resulted in it flying through the glass of my wall unit - but I told her she needed to get the hell out and not come back.  I let her kids stay a couple of days until she found a place, but I would not allow her to return to the house. 

That's when he became a full-fledge alcoholic.

First I would like to call your attention to the opening paragraph:

[...] in pondering the unrelenting claim by Feministe bloggers and readers that asking why victims and survivors of domestic violence stay is always victim-blaming, a few other why? questions occurred to me and I had to get them out of my head and on the page:

You see, Victims Wanted is really just a brainstorm that I wrote in a state of bewilderment over the unwillingness of certain feminists to even consider a perspective that doesn't line up with most everyone else's. But it seems the questions that were spinning around in my head that day have been mistaken for assertions and/or conclusions. So I would like to try and make a few clarifications:

I have never said or intentionally implied that victims and survivors don’t really feel blamed in response the question, "Why did she stay?" In fact, I have said repeatedly that I know they do, because I did too at one time.

I have never said or intentionally implied that feminists are the ones who made them feel that way. I said that feminists want to control the language we use when we discuss it (and they do) which I think might create barriers to finding new potential ways of dealing with it. That is not the same thing as saying that feminists made them feel that way.

I have never said or intentionally implied that feelings of being blamed in response to the offensive question are wrong, unhelpful or illogical. I have said and implied that it’s an unpleasant and unhappy feeling (and that’s an understatement) and that I wish we could find a way to help women heal from it and not feel that way anymore. That is not the same thing as saying that it’s a wrong, unhelpful or illogical way of feeling.

Since we can’t control other people and stop them from asking the hurtful question, I just wonder if there might be ways for us to learn new responses (in fact I know there are and will blog about that another time) through therapy or counseling or whatever so that other people’s words (which we can’t control) don’t hurt so much. And this does not imply that the feelings are their fault or that it means something is wrong with them. Please consider the following analogy:

If I see someone who has been severely beaten and suggest that she go to the hospital to have her injuries checked out, am I blaming her for the injuries? Am I saying they're her fault, or that having them means something is wrong with her? Not at all! And I don't think that any rational person would perceive it that way. So why all the resistance to delving a little deeper into this; to getting it checked out, so to speak, to see if something can be done about it?

Well, they're doing something about it, they say. They're educating the public; teaching everyone the correct language.

So how's that working?

I wonder if we could guide victims and survivors toward ways of managing the problem that put them in control of it, rather than waiting around for the rest of the world to get the message and stop saying it wrong while, in the mean time, these women are suffering over something that is completely beyond their control - what other people say and think.

And this only accounts for those who really don't blame the victims, but just haven't learned the language yet. What about those idiots who do? Yes, I'm aware that they exist. And I'm also aware that they have no interest in changing their language to accommodate these wounded women. They have no sympathy for them to begin with.

So do we just leave these women defenseless to that bullshit? Are they doomed to a life of feeling assaulted again and again every time someone they don't even know gets the language wrong, regardless of intent? That seems a rather helpless way of being, and I think these women deserve a lot better than that, especially from people who advocate for them.

I will close with a comment I posted yesterday in response to a comment by Anna under the above linked post. Her words are in blockquotes; my responses are in bold:

Your answer to this question seems to be (at least in part) ‘they feel that way because feminists told them they should’,

No.

When what I feel battles against what I know, I want to try and understand why; to find where the conflict lies so I can work on correcting it. I don't enjoy feeling like shit and I don't believe anyone does. That's why I would like to work on realistic solutions (expecting the rest of the world to conform to what makes us comfortable is not realistic) with the goal being to help these women find relief from the very real burden of this question.

and you draw further conclusions that the feminist movement somehow needs to create victims to survive or have something to rally around.

I have drawn no such conclusion. I was asking questions, trying to understand why there seems to be so much of this "nodding along". People who work with DV victims and survivors admit to knowing that the intent to blame isn't always there, as do victims and survivors themselves. So I wonder why they keep acting as if that always is the intent.

Basically, I was thinking out loud. It's part of what I do on this blog. This is where I brainstorm and write about ideas as they occur to me. Sometimes they're in the rough phase, but I believe it's part of the learning process.

Another interesting point that just occurred to me is that, although I have said repeatedly throughout all this that I used to feel the same way but no longer do, not one single person has asked how I managed to overcome it. I would think that people who advocate for victims and survivors of domestic violence would be interested in this. So why aren't they?

And I will continue asking the difficult questions. If even one person reads this and takes from it something which she can use to improve her life and general well-being, then it will have been worthwhile. And I do believe that will happen. Perhaps it already has.

I was trying to find out if there was a South Korean SPCA as I wanted to write to them about some animal abuse cases (that of overcrowding), I saw during my holiday trip .  I managed to find the above mentioned agency that has an English worded website.  After reading about what they do, I was really impressed.  You can visit their website here.  Besides working on improving the welfare of dogs and bears, they also advocate for the welfare and status of the cats in the country.

I wrote to them too about possible collaboration through the sharing of knowledge about improving the welfare of cats in the two countries.

CWS engages in these international connections because cross-cultural knowledge exchange would ensure we are using the best known techniques to improve the welfare and humanely reduce the population (through TNRM) of community cats in Singapore and around the World.  Some of our current patners are: Alley Cat Allies (USA), Holyland Cats (Israel), etc.  If you do find such international or local networking work interesting, we do have a Events, Public Ed. and Outreach subcomm that deals with these outreach work.  Just shoot us an email at info@catwelfare.org or to myself (ivan@catwelfare.org) for more information.

Batman has taken on the world's most vicious criminals:  The Joker, The Penguin, Mr. Freeze....but recently Batman opened up a can of whoop-ass on two of his most evil nemeses....his mother and his sister.

Just prior to the European screening of "The Dark Knight", Batman in all probability got sick and tired of hearing "are you going to wear that suit again?".   Plus, Batman has probably had it up to here waiting for his sister to quit hogging the bathroom so much.  When Batman has to go, Batman has to go.

So, he allegedly beat the crap out of them and is now being held by Scotland Yard.

The film "The Dark Knight" broke the box office record, taking in $158 million in it's U.S. opening weekend, besting "Spider-Man 3", the previous record holder.

PM Stephen Harper needs to get better friends, needs to repent himself too.

http://thenonconformer.wordpress.com/2008/07/18/the-pcs-said-the-liberals-were-crooked-but-what-about-themselves/

'If our American way of life fails the child, it fails us all.' ~ Pearl S. Buck (Pulitzer-Prize winning author, 1892-1973)

Boy who died in car had 108 temp

WEST PALM BEACH (AP) - West Palm Beach authorities are investigating how a boy was left in a hot car as his mother did her nails hours before her wedding. The boy later died at a hospital.

The Palm Beach County Medical Examiner says the 4-year-old's temperature reached 108 degrees Fahrenheit.

The Palm Beach County Sheriff 's Office says that 29-year-old Mirland Baptiste may not have known the boy was in the car. She dropped off other children at a relative's house Saturday before going to the salon.

Girl Missing 5 Weeks Never Reported Lost

ORANGE COUNTY (Local6.com) - A woman accused of not reporting her daughter missing for five weeks refused to answer a judge's question of where her daughter was in a bizarre missing person case that continues to frustrate investigators.

Casey Anthony, 22, was taken into custody Wednesday after her daughter's grandparents called Orange County sheriff's deputies over concerns about the well-being of Caylee Marie Anthony, 2.

Detectives said when they contacted Anthony it was determined that she apparently never told anyone that Caylee has been missing for more than a month.

Woman Says Sheriff Didn't Display 'Integrity'

LAKELAND (Local6.com) - The mother of one of the teens accused in the videotaped beating of a Central Florida girl has filed a notice to sue the Polk County Sheriff for making defamatory remarks.

Seventeen-year-old Mercades Nichols and four other teen girls were arrested in April and accused of attacking 16-year-old Victoria Lindsay. The attack was recorded on video and broadcast around the world.

The girls were charged with kidnapping and misdemeanor battery. 

Nichols' mother has filed a notice to sue Sheriff Grady Judd for failing to handle the arrest of the teens "with integrity and a degree of care" that would have protected them "against unfair treatment and exposure."

The sheriff's office has six months to respond to the notice.

'Simply having children does not make mothers.'  ~ John A. Shedd (American author and professor, born 1859)

Joel’s Army believes that this baptism will empower a “New Breed” of people (“Joel’s Army”) with supernatural qualities. This view undermines the Gospel of the Deity of Christ. Anything that even remotely undermines the Deity of Christ, or gives deity to man (or an army of men) is an antichrist doctrine.

The modern “prophets” have come to believe that the Church is the exclusive beneficiary of all God has promised to Israel.  The Latter Rain false prophets and teachers are so bent on spiritualizing Scripture that even the “sun turning dark,” the “moon turning to blood” and the “earthquakes” in Joel are spiritualized to apply to the Church.  It is as though these groups adhering to Joel’s Army have lost the literal meaning of Scripture completely.

Back in the 90's........Jack Deere preached, in the 1990’s, that Last Day “Prophets” Paul Cain and Bob Jones are the ones to cause the "cataclysmic" events such as the sun turning dark, the moon turning to blood and earthquakes.  That these two “prophets” will manifest these supernatural signs and much more by their “incarnate” powers.  But what happened to those two great “prophets”?

In Ezekiel 37, 38 and 39, what brings the bones to life is not going to result in A vast army.   Scripture has been taken and twisted and unbelievably so.

The “Day of the Lord: is re-interpreted by these “prophets: to mean that Christ will come to His Church and incarnate (become God in flesh) an army of believers – giving them supernatural qualities to execute judgment on the Church!  The “Day of the Lord” as seen through the eyes of the New Wave “prophets” will be a time when Joel’s Army, led by these “prophets”, will pour out God’s wrath on the church!  Then, they claim, for the first time in two thousand years, the “pure church” will come forth.  In other words, Joel’s Army and the “prophets” will do what Jesus’ blood could not do; i.e. “cleanse” the Church.

What holds Joel’s Army / Latter Rain together is 1) personal experiences; 2) mysticism – understood only by the elite; 3) allegorizing scripture; 4) preaching based on intuition, feelings or perception (as opposed to Biblical Truth).  THESE ingredients appeal to Christians who are unstable in the Word of God – who are reaching for the ‘WOW’ in services – who are seeking after signs and wonders.

Remember people, Ananias and Sapphira suffered as a result of LYING to the Holy Spirit.  If you resist these “prophets” you need not fear the same thing happening to you.  Do not be afraid to speak out against the errors and abuse.

It goes like this, our back garden sits next to their fence and sheds, fence which appears to be partially on our side of the property markers. It all started with him pushing back some rocks into the garden away from the fence, as well as a log that was placed near the bottom of the fence to stop soil from our garden from eroding down into their yard, in turn this throwing stuff back into the garden resulted in the destruction of some plants in that area. After that he must have sprayed something into the garden closest his side of the fence, from where the fence ends, because plants and vegetables which were previously growing find and a flower that was ready to bloom, all sundenly started to die in the area most accessible from aroudn the fence. How convenient.

Next came the composters, not content with dumping grass clippings into the city ditch by the road, they placed 2 large composters behind the sheds right next to our garden, literally right beside, near the end portion of the fence that goes from solid wood fence to chain link fence. Creates a very intense stench all around the back yard and you cant even open windows in the house on that side because the smell is so bad. The smell is so bad that its hard to work i nthe garden to go pick some herbs or vegetables because you feel sick after a short while, its disgusting. Ever since the introduction of these composters, the stink and leaking juices have been attracting large amounts of flies, mosquitoes and other various insects and pests which gather at the composter area and spread out into the garden, not only degrading the plants but also creating a potential health hazard, with all the potential diseases that may be introduced by these pest vectors into the food which will be eaten at the table.

Currently the issue still stands, called up the municipal property standards/law enforcement officer, but he does not seem to be able to do much other than tell them to clean up the mess (which they dont). I dont to sink down to their level and try to fight backwith something else to cause trouble, but will first take the legal path and see what happens.

From Pg 119:

Rabbi Joshua ben Korha said that man at first was called Adam to indicate his natural constitution – flesh and blood (dam). But when woman was created, the two were referred to as fiery (esh) – living, dynamic beings. God insinuated Himself into the marriage, then added two letters of His own name, Y and H, to the names of man and woman. He inserted the Y into the man’s name, turning esh (fire) into i-Y-sh (ish,
man); and H into woman’s name, making i-sha-H (ishah, woman). The Chronicles of Yerhameel (6:16) comment on this: “If they walk in My way and observe My commandments, behold My name will abide with them and deliver them from all trouble. But if not, I will take the letters of My name from them, so that they will revert to esh and esh, fire consuming fire.” Hence with God and a partner, marriage is a blessing, ish and ishah. Without God, it can become esh, an inferno where man and woman devour each other.

Copyrighted material quoted here
under fair use for educational purposes from
“The Jewish Way in Love and Marriage”
by Maurice Lamm. San Francisco, CA: Harper and Row, 1980

which parallels "The Beast and the Harlot"

Rev 17:16 And the ten horns which you saw on[d] the beast, these will hate the harlot, make her desolate and naked, eat her flesh and burn her with fire. 17 For God has put it into their hearts to fulfill His purpose, to be of one mind, and to give their kingdom to the beast, until the words of God are fulfilled.

The beast rules "the kingdom". The beast has "great authority"

"The dragon gave the beast his power and his throne and great authority." Rev 13:2

Herein lies deliverance!

Rev 12:10Then I heard a loud voice in heaven say:
"Now have come the salvation and the power and the kingdom of our God,
and the authority of his Christ.
For the accuser of our brothers and sisters,
who accuses them before our God day and night,
has been hurled down.
11They overcame him
by the blood of the Lamb
and by the word of their testimony;
they did not love their lives so much
as to shrink from death.