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Showing posts from January, 2015

Bell Let's Talk

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Have you ever heard, "You're not alone," when you're going through problems or maybe just depressed? I just think -- wow, there must be a billion-gazillion-wazillion people roaming around the earth right now and there's not one person to go to for help, or to talk to, or maybe just to vent to. I mean, realistically, there is, but how realistic is it to call up one of your friends and say, "Ugh, I am having a hard time." Generally speaking, I just imagine the other person on the phone thinking, "Umm, yeah me too. Deal with it." So, I don't call people about my bullshit because people have enough of it of their own. Nobody's life is "easy" -- 'n I don't care if you think they do diddly squat all day -- it's not. Sometimes when you're in a larger family, especially full of women like myself, telling one person is the same as blasting it out on a megaphone in Times Square. I know a few friends who sometimes blas

A Thread of Hope

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It was another sleepless night as I lay there awake holding my dog while she was wrapped up in a warm fleece blanket. I sometimes use her as a teddy bear when I'm feeling very emotional. She doesn't mind either, it just means more warmth for her. Any time my mother has to go in for a procedure or for a check up to see if her cancer has lessened or worsened, I get that same feeling as I did when my dad went through this ordeal. I remember coming home from a long day of sitting with Dad at the hospital. He was screaming in pain and I didn't know how else to help him other than to hold his hand. The nurses weren't quick enough to fulfill his pain medication on a time. His IV bag was empty and well, so was my patience. I went out to the nurses' station and screamed at them, letting them know that they were making my father suffer and that it was just inhumane. They all rushed in with extra IVs and bags of morphine, scared that I would've made more of a psychotic s

Religion Roulette

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On a few occasions, Dad would chitchat about his faith on 'the other side' and how he believed that there was definitely something out there. He never went into specifics, like talk about Jesus or the trinity-based beliefs, but more so from an agnostic viewpoint. My mother always had complete faith in Jesus and Catholicism. It was an interesting mix of beliefs. Dad would talk about his experience seeing his deceased friend as a ghost in between drags of his cigarette. "You kiddin' me? There hasta' be something out dare'. I saw Bobby walk right up to me while I was working -- you wouldn't believe it, Deb!" His friend died while inspecting a house that he was going to flip for a profit. The structure was very unstable and collapsed right on top of him. He was only in his mid-thirties. His son who was around my age saw the entire thing when he was around 8 years old. He was traumatized beyond belief, as only you can imagine. It was a tragic loss for his

What Happens When Our Fears Override Our Faith?

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Not a care in the world as we walked barefoot over to the area underneath the Japanese maple tree. My sister would lay out a big flannel blanket so we could all sit and read a book as we flicked off ants from our ankles. My other sisters would eventually join in and occasionally, my mother would come out and park her little lawn chair down to read the paper or to clip out coupons for her next shopping spree. I remember looking out into the view where the mountains meshed into one another while the lake below glistened from the sun. Sometimes my oldest sister and I would have deep conversations about God and religion, and more so, about the new age book she was reading about spirituality. It dawned on me right then that "religion" was the scare tactic, and that having a relationship with God was much more important. It wasn't about rules and regulations or the counting of how many sins were under my belt. It was about love, forgiveness, acceptance and understanding. It

It's Out of Our Control

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For those of you who read me, you know I rarely write about the latest news or current events, unless it's for reasons of human rights and such. But today, for whatever reason, a story in the news hit me where I just can't shake off that feeling of "what if". A local reporter named, Blaise Gomez wrote, "Yesterday's Rt 94 fatal car crash victim has been identified as 32 year old Raymond Heine, from the Village of Florida. Police say he was headed home to his wife and baby girl Monday when his car skid on black ice. Officials say the icy conditions also contributed to a second fatal crash in Wallkill that killed a 22 year old from Middletown." I couldn't help stare at the photo -- people just like ourselves who have families, loved ones and a seemingly good life. What gets me is, something so tragic like this can happen to any us at any given moment. This morning my wife was getting ready to leave for work. She was tired and groggy with little to ze

We Hate What We Are Taught to Hate

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There are many heterosexual parents who feel that telling their kids about gay, lesbian and transgender people is just not their job. In most cases, they're really not knowledgeable on the topic, unless of course if they know someone who is gay. And still, that doesn't make them an expert on the community itself -- it just makes them more aware. The ramifications of not teaching your children about people of different lifestyles can be deadly, if not suicidal if they are gay, lesbian or transgender. If our youth doesn't learn that this is the norm -- that this is also part of society, then they will have no choice other than to think that it's a "freakish" thing. And how to kids react to "freakish" things? They bully and harass them in school with a pack of friends, or they get so depressed about being the victim that they go as far to commit suicide. Sadly, there have been many cases where the bullying escalated to even beating young gays and lesb

Methylchloroisothiazolinonephobia

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There's gotta be a better way to connect with someone, whether or not you've known them for 5 minutes or 10 years.  Platonically speaking, have you ever felt that sense of mutual comfort with a close friend when you know that without a doubt, that you can call this person after midnight if you're dwelling over something? Or, have you felt comfortable enough with someone whereas you can contact them at least more than 3-4 times (sometimes 20 in some cases)? And how do you know for sure, that this person is welcoming your phone calls, texts or emails? If you say, "Well, they answer back," then I'm going to say, "Well maybe they're just being polite and then pulling their hair out afterwards."  I sort of become leery once I see the red flags, especially with a new friend. At the risk of sounding seasoned in my years, I sort of become reclusive once someone tries contacting me more than a few times out of the day, unless it's my wife of course.

The Minds Behind Conversion or Reparative Therapy

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It's just amazing how this world works. You have religious bigots who think homosexuals and transgender people are going to hell, while committing another "biblical sin" of their own. Their own radical hypocritical views twist every single biblical scripture there is for their own agenda. Their agenda being: to change society to all heterosexual and "moral" people. They want everything and everyone uniform, in fear that the world they live in will be one filled with different people. Bigots hate change. They want "their own kind" only.  But then there's a whole other kind of bigotry going on in this world, and sadly, it's from our own gay and lesbian community. I have encountered more than a handful of lesbian women who have all stated that they would feel very uncomfortable, and would not welcome transgender women using the same restroom as they would. In fact, they also stated that they would feel "invaded" that a transgender wo