Who Do You Think You Are?

Dealing with people for the better part of nearly 45 years has taught me something. People are shit.

People like to prey on the vulnerable, take advantage of the kind, walk all over the meek, and generally assert their dominance over anyone in their path.

Something happened to me over this winter. This winter had me sick and laid up more than any winter to date. I broke bones, I fell a few times, kept getting sick and my arthritis was at a 10 most days.

Now, I don’t know if it’s the menopause, or the amount of time I spend alone thinking, or the many videos and research I’ve done into dealing with narcissistic abuse from family and friends, as well as CBT (cognitive behavioral therapy), but I feel like I’ve aged in wisdom about 10 years or more.

I grew a backbone.

I’ve learned not a lot of people don’t enjoy my new found confidence, joie de vivre, my way of living, my lack of fucks to dish out.

Tough.

Who do you think you are judging others? Judge not lest ye be judged – Matthew 7:1.

The most effective way to be judged yourself, is to judge someone else. You don’t know what a person has been through, is dealing with, whether they have support or not, whether they’re being abused. So it’s best to keep your judging mouth shut unless you want all of your skeletons pouring out of your proverbial closets.

Who do you think you are to give me medical advice about my conditions? Last time I checked, your were slinging cannabis, not getting your degree in medicine.

Who do you think you are giving out life advice when your own house is a mess. If you’re a mess yourself, why let that influence and affect another person? Keep your mess to yourself thank you, and kindly fuck off.

Who do you think you are that because you have 1/3 interest in this home that you think you’re the boss? How dare you criticize when you’re a bit of a head case yourself? Do you NOT realize what we’ve endured during our tenure as your roomate?

Who do people think they are these days? Self absorbed, entitled, selfish twats.

Have you ever noticed how heartily someone will argue something they know virtually nothing about? Ignorant twat. The Dunning-Kruger Effect is at maximum throttle in our society.

To all the Brendas and Karens out there sporting your let me speak to your manager haircuts, who do you think you are? What are you doing hun? (We’re all huns here) Do you think you are the only women with children? Problems at work? Customer service issues? Wrong order sent to your table? Incorrect change given? Did someone cut you off in traffic, or take the parking spot you were gunning for at Walmart?

I think I need to remind you, you are not a unique snowflake.

What makes you so special above everyone else? I’d really like to know. Maybe write a little comment explaining why you feel you’re more important than anyone else in our world.

Who do I think I am? I think I’m just a busted up ol’ broad, blogging for free therapy, struggling to get through one day at a time. I stay humble. I am not better than anyone. I have issues and I recognize those. I am here merely by the grace of God.

It would serve us more if we could all be a little bit more humble. A little bit more compassionate, just a tiny bit more empathetic to others.

Stop the judging, the gossiping, the putting yourself on that pedestal that no one sees but you. Stop interfering with other people’s lives and focus on your own.

Because, who do you think you are?

Live Humbly, Be Charitable, Live Graciously.

S.

Image Courtesy of

https://churchsermonseriesideas.com/who-do-you-think-you-are/

Article Courtesy of

https://www.verywellmind.com/an-overview-of-the-dunning-kruger-effect-4160740

Welcome to the Circus That is my Mind

I have a racing, wandering, rambling mind.  I always have.  It has at times, distracted me from doing schoolwork, doing actual work, carrying on conversations, running errands, reading books, completing my house work, having sex and most certainly- sleeping.

The best way I can relate how it feels would be to equate to having a job to do at an office.  You have to get those reports in by 5 and it’s already 3 pm.  You’re just able to focus when the phone rings, and it’s an important client.  Then, Susan from accounting stops by to review numbers.  Two minutes later, your co worker has a melt down at your desk.  You’re trying to finish this damn report but Dan from sales is re-enacting a scene from Breaking Bad while standing directly behind your chair.  Your boss pops by every 15 minutes to track your progress.  While this is going on, there’s a visiting travelling Circus in your office complete with a petting zoo, trapeze artists, tumbling clowns,  Firedancers, sword swallowers, helium filled balloons, and that traditional circus music blaring from all four corners of your office.

Each random thought that pops in to my head is like a different act in that circus.

The Circus of my Mind
Basically… My brain
The tumbling clowns are all the funny things I have seen or heard that replay back in my head.  This act is reserved for things like old Seinfeld episodes, my favorite Saturday Night Live sketches, and Family Guy gags.  It also includes funny things my partner or friends have said, and contains the time my cat got a bag stuck on his head and he peed the entire length of the hallway, running, while the bag flapped behind him like an unfortunate parachute.

Then there’s the Trapeze act.  These are things I think I should be doing but am still only in the thinking stage, not the acting stage.  I’m afraid of heights.  I’m afraid of people.  I’m afraid of foods past the expiration date.  I’m afraid of a lot of things.

The petting zoo consists of all the animals I want to pet.  Baby goats, poofy dogs, fluffy kitties, that arrogant dog down the street that won’t let me pet him, rabbits, hedgehogs, squirrels and pigeons.

Subdermal Implants
Why? Would you do this??
Then there’s the sword swallower.  These are all things that make me go Yeesh while shaking my head wondering why anyone would want to do such a thing.  This includes but is not limited to; subdermal implants, RFID chips, eye tattoos, collagen fillers, Trump supporters, racism, random acts of violence, the Kardashians and general crime/politics.

The fortune teller encompasses all the things that perplex me.  Things I am curious about.  Things that have led to me being labelled a Conspiracy Theorist in the past.  They say Conspiracy Theorist, I say truth seeker or just curious is a more accurate depiction.  I mean, I’m not one of those people that think the world is flat but I do question things like possible false flag attacks, fake news and what the government tells us.  I questioned the whole 911 narrative, the JFK assassination, the moon landing, whether aliens are A) real B) here C) demons D) the original inhabitants of this planet and maybe WE are the aliens.

Aliens or Demons?
WTF ARE they??
The Freak Show are aspects of myself that I try to hide.  My insecurities.  My quirks.  My obsessive compulsive behaviors.  This is where I clip and examine my toenails and remove my blackheads.  This is where I listen to and sing along loudly to the formidable Kelly Clarkson.  This is also where I borrow that voice I talk to my dog in.

The tiger and elephant parade reminds me of things I can appreciate and value but not touch.  The beauty of the sun gleaming across the Atlantic ocean, my gratitude for some of the wonderful people present in my life or my lover’s laugh and smile.  This is where I store the way I feel when she puts her arm around me in the middle of the night until I drift off to sleep.  My dog’s face is there too.  The face she makes when I hold her and rub her head, the face she makes when she’s running through the grass.  These are the precious things.

The Firedancer envelopes all the things that frighten me.  Impending war, losing my love- my partner, running out of money and food, the future, whether being gay will lead me to the fiery pits of hell.  Will I get fat again? (even though I’ve kept it off for a decade) Will the world just get worse?  Just how dumb are people going to get??

helium filled balloons
All my shitty ideas
The helium filled balloons represents each idea I have had that has either popped, backfired or I never got around to.  The big red balloon just out of my reach?  That’s my book.  The blue one that’s floating up up up to the ceiling?  That was my art business.  That annoying yellow balloon that keeps bopping me in the face despite me trying to swat it away?  That was when I moved to Newfoundland for a fresh start and lost all my belongings.  Everything I owned.  The little ones floating away?  Those are my exes.  Quick!  Give me a pin!

The Ringleader or Ring Master, is God who tries to keep me on track.  He tries to organize my thoughts in to manageable compartments and keep me focused on the task at hand.  He tries to make me a better human.  He gives me warm peanuts and sticky cotton candy.  He gives me hope that the next act will be better…

Ringleader
The Ring Master

Live Humbly, Be Charitable, Live Graciously,

Sam

 

 

Images

Old Barnum & Bailey Poster  http://blog.tripbase.com/photo-essay-history-of-the-traveling-circus/

Subdermal implant  http://randomstory.org/bizarre-body-modifications-in-different-cultures/subdermal/

Three Grey Aliens  http://ipost.christianpost.com/post/aliens-extraterrestrials-are-really-demon-spirits

Floating balloons  http://balloonsdelivered.com.au/balloons/floating-balloons/

Ring Master  http://www.thedrawingclub.com/workshop/ringmaster-2010-theme-photo-and-artwork/

Looking For Love in All the Wrong Places

 

I have been looking for true love for a long time.  I grew up in a home where everyone made fun of queers and fags and dykes.  I had also always believed in God and the Bible;  a belief I shared solely with my paternal grandmother. At age 18 I began attending church, I was christened Roman Catholic so I attended a Catholic Church and sometimes Anglican with a friend of mine, and later on, United Churches, just really seeking The Word and guidance.  I believed that if I admitted to anyone that I had crushes on girls (as well as, girly boys) not only would my family hate me but God would too.  It took me until age 34, several churches and much praying before I eventually came out as a lesbian; I dated men until the age of 34.  I was never truly happy with any of them, I did what was expected of me.  I looked for a husband.

Hockey Guy/Stripper Fan

The first serious boyfriend I had was at age 20.  He was obsessed with hockey, Wayne Gretzky and stats so we’ll call him Hockey Guy.  I was never really physically attracted to him but he had a good heart.  I had originally planned on waiting until marriage before committing The Act but it didn’t work out that way.  We were best friends for more than 8 years, we even got engaged much to his reluctance, after being together for 7.  I was a heavy set girl at that point in my life.  From ages 20-30 I peaked at 260 pounds.  I think he kept looking for something better to come along.  He found it on the Internet.  What broke the deal was when he confessed to me that he had met up with this stripper he had developed a relationship with online, while on business trips to Toronto.  I felt betrayed.  It wasn’t the only the only time I had felt betrayed by him so I did what any scorned woman does at age 27.  I went to Newfoundland and slept with another guy, ending my relationship.

 

The Peeping Tom

The second relationship I had was with a guy in Newfoundland.  We’ll call him, the Peeping Tom.  This is the guy I cheated on Hockey Guy with.  I moved to Newfoundland to live with one of my best friends, and to get away from Hockey Guy so the break up would take.  I didn’t want to cave like I had the last time. This guy, (Peeping Tom), was purely a rebound.  I never loved him.  I liked him and enjoyed his company but..  I wasn’t over my prior experience.  In addition to his ever increasing ass size; seriously, this guy had the biggest ass I have ever seen on a man; I discovered he was a peeping Tom.   I packed up my cats and 2 duffel bags full of stuff and moved out to Edmonton, Alberta with a friend of mine leaving behind all my belongings.  He sold everything of value on EBay and threw out the rest.

 

Drunk Ass Man Child

At this point I have turned 29, I’m back in Nova Scotia feeling like a failure, and I am very much overweight.  I have zero self esteem and I am incredibly lonely.  I end up meeting this next guy through a mutual friend of ours.  We’ll call this guy Drunk Ass Man Child.  I noticed he drank a lot before we moved in together.  My lease had ended with a roommate I had and didn’t want to live with her again because she just wasn’t very stable.  I was quickly looking at having no place to live so I moved in with him.  Within a month I learned that he was a hard core alcoholic.  He would spend his entire paycheck on booze, and things like comic books and action figures and DVDs and CDs.  When it came my payday, it was time to pay the rent, the bills, buy groceries.. Yeah, you see where this is going.  I also learned he was abusive.  After waking up to find this asshat urinating on the wall in the bedroom one night I banned him from the bedroom period.  I learned to loathe this guy.  He’d yell at me and call me names and throw things at me and try to choke me.  The last time he put hands on me I left him.  He went to work one morning and I quickly grabbed the boxes I had hidden around the house for two weeks while I secretly found another apartment, threw all my belongings in said boxes, moved to a different address and changed my cell phone number.  I never spoke to him again.

 

The Booty Call Guy

By age 30 I had begun to lose a lot of weight and started exercising and eating healthy to try to lose the rest.  I started to feel pretty again and even had the nerve to ask out a guy from work who I had a crush on.  We’ll call him.. The Booty Call Guy.  We would get together once or twice a week but he didn’t want a relationship nor would he go out with me in public..  It turned out, I was simply a long term booty call.  The back burner girl.  He preferred younger skinny girls.  After a while, I came to my senses and stopped that.  He would continue to try and get me over to his house for a couple of years after that.  I declined.

 

Angry Little Girly Man

I then dated someone that I had liked for a long time.  We liked each other initially but we were both in other relationships.  (Hockey Guy).  We’ll call this fellow, Angry Little Girly Man.  Needless to say I was pretty excited when he called me out of the blue saying he was single and blah blah blah, we ended up dating for seven months.  I called it off when I got tired of his tantrum fits.  I got sick of him saying things like “you should wear less makeup” or “Don’t wear that, men will stare at you”.  At this point, I had lost 130 pounds, the real way.  I worked really hard to get that weight off and get in shape to gain back some confidence and I wasn’t going to let this little man with his own confidence issues take it away.  I moved on.  Every so often this guy still tries to contact me and I’m like, “Yeah, still gay, not interested.”

 

Creepy Dinner Guy & Ladies’ Panties

After Angry Little Girly Man and so many experiences ranging from disappointing to downright terrifying, I went on a dating expedition.  Online dating was getting really big so I decided to give it a try.  At one point, there was Creepy Dinner Guy, who took me to fancy dinners and then said he could communicate with Wolves.  The Psychoanalyst, (not really) he just always liked to say things like, “You know what your problem is..?”  My problem was that men just seemed annoying and pointless.  I was never really into any of the men I dated.  There was always a million things wrong, that annoyed me, that drove me crazy, that turned me off, that grossed me out.  I wanted to date women but was still afraid of being shunned by my family.  (Little did I know that would happen later over money anyway).  So I kept looking.  There was Music Guy who was really into music and collecting vinyl.  He was pretty cool and I enjoyed his company.  He wasn’t all hands either.  He was respectful.  After meeting Sweaty Guy and The Guy Who Wore Ladies Panties, I decided to give Music guy another shot, although I was pretty sure he was an alcoholic too.  We broke up after 3 months and I started seeing someone new.

 

Phoenix the Poet Crackhead

Phoenix. That was the guy’s name, swear to God.  He had entrancing eyes and his words were simply beautiful.  He was a published poet and always said all the right things.   He was a mess.  He had horrible teeth (what was left).  He was a crackhead AND alcoholic.  Double whammy.  That didn’t last long and we never slept together so, thankfully no harm done.  

 

Music Guy

Music guy in the meantime, cleaned up his act a bit.  We had kept in touch.  We lived on the same street so…  I ended up going back out with him.  At the time I remember thinking, “Well, if I have to be with a man, it may as well be Music Guy.”  We dated for three years.  We lived together but didn’t sleep together.  He slept in another room on a futon with the cats.  I came out of the closet to him at age 33.  I ran back into the closet, out of fear, for another 8 months.  I prayed more than ever before.  

“God, would you hate me, if I loved a woman?” At this point, I had met a woman and I knew I felt way more than just friendship for her.  It was intense.  Nothing I had ever experienced with a man.  During my months of praying I encountered a bright orange display of books at a local Chapters called “Bulletproof Faith: A Spiritual Survival Guide for Gay & Lesbian Christians.  A light went off in my head. You can be gay AND Christian!?  I took that as one of several signs that kept urging me to just be myself, whoever that was.  Stop pretending to be something you’re not.  You will never find true happiness until you live your life as your true self.  I found groups of other gay and lesbian Christians online.  I came out at age 34.

LGBT Christians

The Ex Wife

I dated my ex wife for two years before we were married.  On my wedding day, my father pulled me aside and said, “Are you sure?  You really want to marry a woman?”  I glanced across the street where I saw a group of guys taking turns jumping into a sinkhole that had formed on the side of the road.  Noticing the idiocy of that act prompted me to respond, “Uhhh, yeah.  I’m sure.”  I did love my wife but our relationship always lacked the passion and affection I had hoped for.  She wouldn’t sleep in the same bed as me claiming my night terrors kept her awake.  We were very different people.  I wanted to work on our marriage and building our life together; she was consumed by gossip and money and talking to other women.  She cheated on me after about a year of marriage.  Then again and again.  We split in 2014.

 

The American

The American was introduced to me through a mutual friend.  We had some things in common (namely we were both nerds) and we were both going through divorces so, we bonded.  We dated for a few months before moving in together, which I didn’t really want to do.  I wasn’t in love with her, I was still grieving the loss of my marriage but I needed a place to live and neither of us could afford our own place.  After being together for 7 months, again with the separate bedrooms, her visa was going to be revoked as her ex wife was beginning their divorce proceedings.  I think she knew I wasn’t in love with her which probably played into her decision to go back to the USA early.

 

My Soulmate

At this point, I’m 40, disabled and a soon to be divorcee.  What a catch.  I really had given up on ever finding love.  I’d tell myself, It doesn’t happen for everyone.  My time has passed.  My looks are going, I see wrinkles.  I’ll just live with my dog and hopefully find roommates along the way.  Whatever.  Then I met this girl.  She was cute and confident and funny and sassy and sexy.  Well shit.  She probably won’t be into me though.  I was wrong.  Our first date lasted four days.  I didn’t want her to leave and she didn’t want to go.  It was weird.  I was absolutely hooked on this broad.  In turn, she seemed to be pretty sweet on me.  She got a job in a different province a few months later and the thought of losing this woman… Killed me.  The first time she experienced my night terrors she simply spooned me until I drifted back off to sleep.   We talked about everything.  We liked the same things, we laughed A LOT.  There was passion and affection.  She was loving and thoughtful.  She listened to me and rubbed my body when it hurt.  It got so I couldn’t fall asleep without her.  THIS was what I was looking for.  Nope.  Not losing her.

 

We moved to Saint John a little over two years ago and we’re still going strong.  She is my absolute best friend in the world.  I love being with her and am happier with her than I’ve ever been with anyone.  Ever.  We are such a great match; she is truly my soulmate.  We got engaged a while ago and hope to get married next year.  As you can see, I looked for her for a very long time.  I had to kiss A LOT of frogs to find my princess.  I have to laugh at that because she is the farthest thing from a princess.  She’s a tough little broad with a sarcastic wit and a sharp tongue who likes heavy metal and war games.  She’s definitely a keeper.

 

How many duds did you go through before you found your soulmate?

 

Live Humbly, Be Charitable, Live Graciously,

 

Sam