Indifference

Love is strange. Love comes in different colors too. Sometimes, it even borderlines hatred if the right fireworks are set off. I believe that if someone says, "I HATE YOU" with such passion, it takes enough energy out of their soul, our of their well-being, to love you enough to take the time to hate you enough. They have one common denominator: passion. Usually a scorned ex lover will rattle this off, but usually never someone who truly doesn't want to be bothered by you. It's simply no response, no communication and every opportunity to be where you're not. It's not even so much avoidance as it is, "I really don't care" type of mindset. Indifference. It's a hard call to tell when someone is being indifferent, but enough to notice either they're not the same person or they just didn't take a liking to you from the get-go. I'm certainly no expert on relationships, love and of course, "hatred", but I have had enough past experiences to let me know which was which. I remember when I was younger, I would "hate" my ex and spew out a few unkind things about them, as they did with me. When it simmered down and time had passed, it morphed into indifference. We both no longer cared. That's why I totally believe that time heals all wounds. Breakups are the worst when it's in its first stages. First, you try to let go, you cry yourself a river and then you may hit the next stage: begging for forgiveness. You made a mistake. You didn't want things to end, yada yada yada. Then, when that doesn't work out, it turns to anger. Voila, you got yourself a cocktail full of "hatred". Whether it's a breakup, a divorce or even a broken friendship, we start asking ourselves, "What's wrong with me?" Sometimes, it doesn't even matter who wronged who. The blame is sometimes pointed back at themselves.

With certain people in my life, my "indifference" is usually based upon fear if they have verbally attacked me in a vicious way. I forgive, but the forgetting part I'm having a hard time with. I will always greet them and be cordial to them, but my behavior, my entire personality is a little different. I can't help it. I can't be the same person to that someone who had beaten me up so violently with mere words, especially someone I cared about. I'm afraid it'll happen again. I feel like a rescue dog when you try to pet their head. I cower with fear. I'll play with you a little, fetch the ball a few times, but I will never get close to you again. There's no "stability" in the once friendship/relationship. With this very issue, I turned to my spirituality and prayed about it so many times I can't even count. I even took out the Bible and came across a few scriptures that totally explained my feelings and my situation.

"Telling lies about others is as harmful as hitting them with an ax, wounding them with a sword, or shooting them with a sharp arrow." -Proverbs 25:18 

"Putting confidence in an unreliable person is like chewing with a toothache or walking on a broken foot." -Proverbs 25:19 

"It's harder to make amends with an offended friend than to capture a fortified city. Arguments separate friends like a gate locked with iron bars." -Proverbs 18:19 

There's also this one scripture that I cannot find (maybe you know it). It says that arguments will not end a friendship or relationship, it's when you insult their character that breaks the tie. Once you attack someone on a personal level, it sticks. It's engraved in the mind forever. So technically, it is completely out of my control to be the same person I used to be with those who have insulted me or had verbally beaten me up. I feel as though, if that person doesn't make a conscious effort to make it known that they'll never hurt me like that again, or at least shows their sincerity, how can I ever fully trust that person again? So, I remain indifferent for now. And that's so not like me at all.

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Paper Trail

Never be mean to the wait staff. 

For the most part, I'd like to think that I'm not so much judgmental as I am careful of who I select to be in my world. I don't care what color, race, gender or sexual orientation you are --- I go by my judge of character alone. I'm not perfect. I'm not trying to be. I never criticize unless it becomes obvious.  I observe. For example: if I see you being mean to the wait staff, I'll call you out on it and I'll avoid you at all costs and hope to God that the waiter or waitress spits in your food you brought back. If I see you intentionally hurting or using someone who is a good person, I'll steer clear. If I sense you're out to just use anyone who will just spend a moment's time with you just because you're bored, your invite will be declined. There are two sets of people: those who gain friends by hurting others and those who gain friends from being genuine friends. No doubt, people love to gossip and gain an 'inner knowledge' of whoever and whatever --- but at what cost? When do you start selling your soul to the gossip gods? Judge Judy makes a good point. She always says, "Once you lie to me, your credibility is always in question." The sad fact is -- liars never change. I remember years ago in high school a friend of mind used to lie about everything under the sun. We just chucked it up to her eagerness to beg for attention with a 'good story', but as we got older and some of us maturer, the same girl lied about something very significant. She begged that she has changed her ways and that she wasn't the same person she was back then. When I called her out on her bullshit and showed her proof of her lie, she squirmed like a snake and made the most magnificent twists and turns to get out of what she had claimed was once true. Once lied to, especially as an adult, everything out of your mouth becomes utter bullshit.

But I digress. I actually feel bad for these people. I feel bad for a number of people who are out roaming the world looking for their next victim to lie to, or to use for their own agenda and gain. That has to be an exhausting life to live: a life lived by lies and deception alone. Nothing is genuine. Nothing is concrete. They float through circle of friends hoping to find the next gullible takers to believe their mantra. Once found out, they head off to the next prey. Some people are such bullshit artists that they move from state to state just to regain a "new life".  The "new" people have no clue about their emotional unstableness, until their madness rears its ugly head. Time to move. When it hits the 50th time, I'm sure another language should be learned. The unsettled traveler just keeps moving along until they're bored or figured out. I know there are "true travelers" and adventurers out there, but there's a huge difference in an unsettled person and a person who just loves to see the world. You can pinpoint which is which. The unsettled traveler keeps running and running from their paper trail of lies.

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The Apocalypse is Upon Us

The other morning I was having breakfast with Madelene watching the news. A short news clip came on showing that Domino's is trying to deliver pizza with drones. I thought it was a great idea, until Mad shot me a look of concern. I'm like, "Isn't that great - you just answer the door and this things hovers until you grab the box of pizza. No tipping!" The sad thing is, I hate pizza. But you see my point. Madelene said, "No, not 'great', Deb," and then leaves the room to finish getting ready. I started to ask why and realized she was insinuating that this is the beginning of the end - 'they're all watching us' type of mindset. She reminded me that they're probably watching us with little drones that are the size of a fly. The way I think about it is -- if you're not doing anything wrong, then what's the problem? Why would anyone want to spy on me? Fine, you wanna peek at my fat ass then have at it. She then went on to say, "They are trying to learn about you." I just gave her a blank stare. I mean, I'm all for conspiracy theories, but this one takes the cake. OK, so they "learn about me". They learn I'm too boring to be spied on. I feel safer that there are cameras on our streets. These cameras have caught kidnappers and rapists -- isn't that a good thing? We got them off the streets because of "big brother". But no. Mad disagreed with me. "The devil always comes as an angel of light." So, basically saying that you will be blinded by all the positiveness of whatever looms in the darkness so to speak. I can't wrap my mind around that for some reason. One world order, a dictator, the government is going to control us, put us away in camps, yada yada yada. And believe me, I don't necessarily trust the government too, but I'm not letting that destroy my peace right now. I'm too obsessive with other issues in my life. Put that into the mix and I'll end up in some psyche ward soon enough.

My new obsession deals with the government putting tainted shit into our food. We have GMO and hormone filled produce and meat to contend with and this affects us "now" as we live -- not when we're no longer here. It affects our health, our children's emotional and physical well-being.  I guess you can say my new "obsession" is based on fear, or perhaps based on health - I'm not sure which. I guess it goes hand-in-hand if you're a hypochondriac: fear of getting sick - fear of dying. All relevant. I am seeing more and more people turning into "hypochondriacs" or what some would call, "health freaks". I've been doing a lot of research online and through friends who are much more knowledgable than I am about chemicals and hormones that are pumped up into our food. Kids are drinking milk that has hormones in them, causing them to have emotional issues and overdevelopment in many young girls. The antibiotics used in order to beef up the animals are consumed by...us. This is another reason why we're going to be resistant to all antibiotics pretty soon, causing us to not recover from the flu or any other type of illnesses and infections. My mantra was always, "Eh well, if this won't kill me, a Mack truck can run me over tomorrow for all I know." And while that still may be very true, why wait it out and suffer all our lives with pain, illnesses, ailments all caused by big industries trying to make a buck and pass their product off as, "food"? When children start having anxiety, depression and all sorts of emotional issues at an early age, the first thing is to go to the doctor and get what? Antidepressants! The pharmaceutical industry loves when we rely on doctors alone. Even our dog food is tainted with crap from God knows where. Vets have to make money somehow, I suppose.

I've been following a Facebook group based on the Paleo diet. And yes, I failed a few times on this diet, but as I'm doing more and more research on it, I'm realizing it's not all about "dieting" as much as it is about cleaner food - food not tampered with by big industries. So, I'm dabbling. I'm not going to be perfect on this new venture, but I am trying to take control over what goes into my body now. The other day, I walked into the grocery store and my shopping cart was much different than it would be a month ago. Look out - because I passed up the pasta and grains. Ever since I weaned off, the distention in my upper abdominal region which was diagnosed with "gastritis" has vanished. I was never tested for gluten allergies, but I'm contributing most of the problems I have had with wheat products. Our wheat isn't the same now and as a matter of fact, Japan recently rejected the U.S.'s import of wheat because they said it wasn't suitable for human consumption. They said it was POLLUTED. The levels of GMOs that were in the wheat were unacceptable. That scared the hell out of me. I bought spaghetti squash and prepared my fresh herb sauce on it along with organic range free no hormone skinless chicken. It wasn't bad, in fact, it was pretty good to think that what I was eating was filled with tons of vitamins and not tampered with. GMOs are starting to creep up in many of our foods now. For instance, did you ever think tilapia was unhealthy? I thought it was one of the healthiest things you could eat. But it's a GMO, farm raised and it consumes its own waste. The only fish I eat is wild Atlantic kind salmon now and periodically, locally caught scallops and clams when I'm near the ocean. Fact is though, you'll never know if a restaurant is lying about their catch of the day, but at least I'm trying. I also buy from local farmers. Now there's a good and evil with that option. The good: you're buying from your local peeps which causes less emission from imported goods and you're eating fruits and vegetables that don't have chemicals on them. Win. The evil side? You better wash those greens really good. Sand will become your friend. Trust me on this one.

My thing is: why not control what you can control now, instead of being obsessed with things you can't control, like flying drones spying at your every movement. If it's not drones, they certainly have satellites peeking in. The last time I obsessed over the "government's evil plot on us", was the time I was freaked out about getting the flu shot because they all want us to stop reproducing and control us, perhaps even place us in a camp if we reject it, as one conspiracy theorist explained.  They said it was a liquid form of contraceptives and that the government was adding poisons in us. So, reject it if you're against it. I did. End of story. But to worry about one world order and things that are to happen years and years, possibly even when we're gone, is ridiculous and a waste of time. If it's going to happen, there is no way to stop it unless everybody and their mother protested and killed one another out in the streets like they do in communist countries. The difference you can make is to stop purchasing hormone based GMO filled produce and meats. Buy from local farmers. Make sure your milk is hormone-free. Grow your own vegetables. Stop supporting big pharmaceutical industries by purchasing overpriced antidepressants. Try a natural approach: meditation, vitamin D supplements, exercise, better food.  I'm taking the time to step out of the herd for once. And if I slip up, I'll try getting back up on the saddle again. By chance if the apocalypse arrives earlier than expected, please save room for me in your underground bunker. You will have one, right?

What are your thoughts about our world changing? Our food changing? Our health changing?

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Once a Cheater, Always a Cheater?

Have you ever been in a relationship where your partner cheated on you? And no matter how you found out, whether it be through word of mouth, shoddy paper trails (texts) or personal investigator, your heart is just shattered into pieces. You feel betrayed and for some people, 'less than desirable' due to a 'other options' found -not necessarily better mind you. The immediate response is, "I'll get them" -- but is it really worth it? Some people have valid reasons for cheating, and yes, I said valid. Maybe they're not being paid attention to at home. Maybe their partner is abusive. And maybe, the love has just gone out the door. There are cases where the person is just genetically geared to having more than one partner, but unfortunately, making promises to only one. And while that seems unfair, it's also a stigma to be polyamorous, which that person should be and be open about it. But, society deems it "inappropriate", and with that, more people end up getting hurt. The tricky thing with a polyamorous person is, some think it's okay for them, but not okay for their significant other to do. That's when the secrets start piling up and the paper trail needs to be deleted or found.

What if you found your lover cheating on you? How would you break it to them? Would you forgive them? Give them another chance? Would you confront them? And how? One girl I read about on Yahoo News found her guy cheating on Facebook and well, let's just say the letter she wrote to him (on the left) was absolutely ingenious, however, very very twisted. I loved it. A lot of people ask, "Why put so much time and energy into something that doesn't mean anything anymore?" Because it means everything to that girl. This girl took the time and energy as she did with the relationship. So why not go all out and write a letter like this? The letter went viral and basically will forever shame this guy. The only thing I disagree with is the possibility of losing his belongings due to placing them in areas where it could be stolen. Not only can she be sued in court for this, but it's just not right. I would have packed it up and left it out on the porch or in the garage (if she has one) --- this way you're not liable for any of it. But when a woman sees "red" --- nothing will hold her back, not even consequences. How would you handle your other half roaming about?

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A Message About Fear From Beyond

Life's biggest question: "What happens after it?" Nobody knows. You either believe this or that, or nothing at all. Some people think we just die like a battery - all darkness - nothing left - dust to dust and that's basically it. And while that may be somewhat true, what about all the people who have had near death experiences who come back to life and tell you similar stories to other people who have had near death experiences? Then you question the obvious: are they mimicking everyone else's experience? Or, does our brain produce this crazy short circuit shutdown letting us 'see' the light at the end of the tunnel --- or is that just the end itself? Maybe it's like the end of a Porky Pig cartoon where he says, "Th-th-th-th- ...That's all folks!" Nobody has a concrete answer and....nobody ever will until they stare death straight in the face. Then you have religion that gets in the way of people's views/beliefs which can eventually bombard your boundaries when someone assures you that you'll be going to hell for "sinning". Then the fear of death kicks in even more. Others think religion or perhaps, "God" was a made up myth to sooth people's fear of dying. We all have that same fear, or there wouldn't be so many hypochondriacs like myself out there.  What about seeing spirits or people communicating with the dead? Do you believe in all that? They say that very young children and especially the elderly or a terminally sick person can see the other side - like deceased loved ones visiting and occasionally talking to 'something' that we cannot see. Before Dad passed, he would say to my mom, "Look, say hi to ya' father, he's sitting right there!" Mom just stared at him, thinking that maybe the drugs were making him hallucinate. The strangest thing that happened is when he said, "Hey, there's Frankie! He's with the angels now!" Frankie was a long time family friend whom we lost touch with years ago. We had no clue he had passed away, but Dad knew. Dad would pick at his clothes or blankets as if they were just way too heavy for him. I truly believe when people who are about to pass pick at their clothing or blankets and constantly want to get up -- this is their restless spirit. The spirit itself is light, weightless, and ready to leave. Or, can there be a scientific explanation of these spiritual sightings and restlessness? I haven't found a concrete answer yet.

In recent days I've shared with you my struggles with insomnia. (I'll get to the point.) I have had what's called "sleep jerks" and a very excessive tick in my throat. (Not a deer tick mind you.) More of an OCD tick that makes me do a 'clicking' sound with my throat to check if my airways are okay. I contribute this to my allergic reaction when I had sushi one night. I also contribute it to the recent loss of my father. They're all anxiety-related symptoms that drive me crazy and keep me awake all night. Last week I was up every single night, watching the clock fly by into the break of dawn. I had friends emailing me, "What's wrong, Deb?" And I honestly couldn't pinpoint what was wrong, but I knew I was stressed out beyond my limits. There was also no reason for the stress. They were all good for nothing anxiety attacks as I call them. But there is usually an underlining cause which I hate to even admit, because I hate not knowing, or "subconsciously" knowing, which I sometimes chuck up to bullshit. But, I found out a lot last night when I dozed off for about a half an hour. I had a dream - a very vidid dream. My Dad came to me, and he started yelling at me in his botched up Brooklynite accent. "Whaddya' doin' to ya'self? Why you wastin' ya time with all dis' fear? You can't even sleep! You fear FEAR itself! You fear going to sleep! You fear waking up! You fear getting sick! You fear others getting sick! You fear everything unda' da' sun! (Then he starts laughing.) And whatsda' worse ding' that can happen to ya? Ya die? (He let out another howl of laughter.) And den' wha?? You come here! It's great! Stop it, Deb! You're wasting your life with fear!" When I woke up, I rubbed my face and mumbled out, "Wow that was so real." And then the TV had this loud commercial and yelled out, "YOU CAN HEAR ME!" Coincidence? That's only up for interpretation and belief. Common sense could have dreamt it or I could simply believe Dad visited me in my dream since he may have seen me suffering with insomnia and anxiety. Last night, I had over eight hours of sleep with no anxiety and no "sleep jerks". No tick. No fear. No feeling of doom. I'm going to start believing more. What do you believe?

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Somniphobia

Sometimes I wonder if insomnia has a purpose. Maybe God's trying to say, "Come pray with me" or perhaps He keeps you up for five or more days just so you'll crash into your third rem stage in order to communicate with Him better. I haven't figured that out, but I found a few websites that fully believe in this god-driven method. Maybe it's a test, and let me tell you, if it's testing my lack of sanity and inability to maintain composure, then it worked. Let me just say what an irritable, cranky, over-emotional whack job I was during the six days I was awake. I had no filter. And I knew when it was coming on. By 10pm, we usually take the dog out for her last 'walk'. Then 11pm, I'm watching Seinfeld. This is my nightly ritual. Once it starts hitting midnight, it seems as though the numbers on the clock start flying off the handles. 1am, 2am, 3456 -WAKE UP! That's how fast it feels like. They say you should never look at the clock when you can't sleep, but I need to know how many hours I slept...or were awake for. Day 5, we had a BBQ. Madelene's sister Bernie came over. We had a blast, had a few drinks and ate dinner. But toward the evening, like 7pm (still early) I started phasing out and at that point - I was just bad company. I blazed up the fire pit and let the girls have some much needed sisterly time. I booked it upstairs and snuggled up with my dog and actually dozed off for about an hour. When Madelene and her sister came back inside, they both went to sleep almost right away, while I was up all. fricken. night. for no reason at all. Day 6 was scary. I snapped at anything and anyone. I snapped at my dog and she just looked at me like, "Whoa dude, I'm a dog. Get a grip." I found myself crying hysterically, to where my mom came over to me and rubbed my shoulders. I started laughing and said, "Stop doing that! The gout in your hand is gonna force us to make a trip up into the ER!" I just love her. I started feeling crazed, delirious and I seriously started hallucinating - not exaggerating either. A few times, I thought someone was walking past me. Another time, I'm just sitting there in a daze, and when I woke up, I thought I was in somebody else's house.  It was really scary.

What a great remedy! 

Still on day 6 floating into the evening, I was scared that I was going to need some medical assistance at this point. I tried everything, from chamomile tea, deep meditation videos on YouTube, lavender on my nightstand, eating a bit of carbs before bedtime (which I have eliminated from my diet), and even a massage from Madelene which was w*o*n*d*e*r*f*u*l!!! I may fake insomnia all the time now. But, the one thing that worked? Ice cream. My sister suggested it and when I Googled it, there it was on a list of 'how to stop insomnia'. I'm not sure if it was the tryptophan or the inability of my liver processing all that sugar, but I slept like a baby last night. I feel like a human again. I've also been on this low/no carb diet that may have contributed to my loss of sleep. Not sure though. It's not Atkins and not quite Paleo, although I have been getting grass-fed, free range meat and organic veggies plus eliminating all sugars from my diet, but it's more so just cutting out pasta and potatoes. I'll leave that for a treat on the weekend. Within that week, I lost 5 lbs which I was thrilled about, but I was such a crazed lunatic walking around like a goddamn zombie all the time. What's worse? Gaining weight or insomnia?  But again, I'm not sure if the low carb diet is the evil culprit here. I have had friends email me, "What's bothering you?" And I can honestly say, "EVERYTHING!" --- But seriously, I can't pinpoint anything in mind. Of course, I'm still sad about Dad passing last year - but I have gone through the worst of it...I think. I recently installed a home security alarm system for our house so we could feel safer, which should make me sleep better, but that's not it either. I'm not at odds with anyone or feel upset about anything or anyone. So then what? It remains a mystery. The only thing I can think of is that it's some sort of somniphobia - a fear of sleep. I get sleep jerks a lot, which cause me to wake up gasping for air. Sleep apnea was ruled out, but this is just as bad.

I used to rely on binaural beats for sleep, but I'm a little scared of the side effects which can cause seizures and possibly do the opposite effect on different people depending on how the brain absorbs it. So that's out for me. If you have some unconventional home remedy (not alcohol or OTC medicines) then please let me know in the comment section. But for now, sweet dreams to all.

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The Human Autocorrect

As you probably already know, I grew up in an Italian household. Mom had three girls, and then seven years later, she had an “oops”...me. I didn’t mind. It was like having four mothers and one large man who always protected us. I remember I was about three years old lying in my parents’ bed and Dad was busting my chops and teasing me, so I looked over at my mom and said, “Why did you give birth to him?” I just thought Mom was like some “god” who produced all these different people who were living with us. Even back as a kid, I remember Dad being so hard of hearing, or perhaps he just had selective hearing. We’d ask a question and he would botch it up like autocorrect on an iPhone.
Me: “Dad, where’s the fly swatter?”
Dad: “What? Ya want a glass of ice water?”
Me: “Hey Dad! I brought home some quesadillas for you!”
Dad: “What? A case of beer?” It always seemed like a challenge trying to get something across, especially if you were in the other room, which was maddening. He was a pain in the ass trying to communicate with you from another room in the house. All you’d hear was this really loud voice screaming, “Hey Deb!” I would answer back, “Yeah Dad?” ----Then silence --- This was his way of drumming up your curiosity in order to get you to come to him. And once you were in his man cave, there was no escaping. It was usually about some “true picture” he saw or some bizarre documentary. The stories were long and the plumes of smoke from his non-filtered cigarette would suffocate you. Every personal story of his started off with, “This is the troot’,” or “picture dis’.” As soon as those sentences came out of his mouth, it was like a flight or fight reaction -- or, just a “flight”. Mom used to say, “Hurry past him if you’re leaving. He’s very chatty today.”

My mom isn’t any better at botching things up like autocorrect, but it’s not that she couldn’t ‘hear’ you --- she just forgets certain terms, especially when it comes to the internet. Years ago when I was single, I put a personal ad out. Mom saw I was dating here and there and wanted to know how I met these girls. I’ll never forget her saying in front of mixed company, “I hope you’re not meeting these people on the intercom!” I just pictured myself with a huge megaphone out in the middle of the streets. Thank God it got more of a laugh than it did with the seriousness of meeting a bunch of ‘crazies’ online. I’d always hash out some pathetic lie and say, “Oh we met at work,” and if I was in between jobs, they were always from my “old place of work”. It seemed to have...worked. If that wasn’t the worst of it, she’d screw up on each person’s name. If it was Charlene, she’d say, “How’s Charmaine?” Mom got Madelene’s name correct only because her sister has the same one. Dad? Nope. He screwed it up all the time. Her name was Mildred. I have no clue. My buddy Lisa would come over on the weekends and for some reason, she was “Lidia”. Half the time Dad couldn’t get anyone’s name right. When trying to address me, he’d use all the names of my sisters before getting to me: “Dawn, Car, Cath, ughh --who the hell are you again?” And he’d laugh until tears were streaming down his cheeks. The best was when he couldn’t figure out a word: “Whatchamacallit', you know, dat’ thing - whaddyacall' - dat thingie majiggy - ah shit...” Or if it was someone’s name, “Whatshername - you know - dat’ girl - whaddyacallher - ah shit...”

My mom has this huge pet peeve. She hates when anyone text messages people while in her presence. She’ll stare you down until you feel it. “Who ya ‘tex mexin’” came out of her mouth one day. My sister and I both lost it. But now she’s resorted to the term, “Who ya tic-tac’n?” These days, Mom has a Facebook account. One of her greatest concerns is that she cannot “find herself”. I asked her why was she looking for herself. She said, “But where am I?” ...Then I finally figured it out. She just wanted to view her profile. Ok. But the next inquiry was really funny. You know how you get all of these “suggested friends” who are friends with your friends? (Wait, what?) Well, she thought that everyone was adding her as a “friend”, when it was only suggested. So she “accepted”, however, she really “added”. She knows I have a Twitter account which she contorts into, “Tittles” and “Twatter”. If she Googles something, the term is “Goggled”. I kind of think it should be called “Goggle”. She’ll never comment on a post or “like” anything. She’s a lurker. Instead, she’ll update me on what’s going on with ‘you know who’ and ‘whatshername’. Sometimes I hear, “Boy, how she puts out all her dirty laundry!” And yet, she’s totally intrigued by it. I’m not sure if she’ll be “liking” this blog post on my Facebook account, but I’m sure I’ll get a phone call in a few minutes. "Take that down!"

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