Karma’s Full-time Job is Being a Bitch

Bitch is working overtime.


When I was 21. I was overweight. Over 350 lbs. I think. I didn’t really keep track of my weight. I didn’t care. Everyone else cared. I hated everyone else for caring.

I knew how much I weighed because I used to donate plasma at the local plasma bank and they always weighed me on their very accurate medical scales. I think they wrote 348 one day on my chart. So we’ll just say I was 350 lbs. or more. Anyway.

I went to stay with my brother and his family in Ohio for Christmas that year. I always loved seeing my brother, his wife, and their kids. I was always attentive and ready for fun. I tried to please everyone, laugh, crack jokes and just get along. I was the ultimate get-along girl. I just wanted peace and happiness for everyone around me. That’s when I felt my most happy and secure. When everything was going good for everyone else. It’s my nature as an empath.

We were all sitting around in the dining room one afternoon, watching my brother and his son put together some piece of DIY furniture. Talking, laughing. It was interesting enough. I was sitting on the floor and my 5-year-old niece sits down on my lap.

“Aunt Tina (my nickname was Tina), why are you so fat?”

No salutation. No beating around the bush. No pretense. No shame. Just straight to the fat. I thought for a minute.

“Well, why are you so skinny?”

She wasn’t. She was just a normal 5-year-old girl.

No hesitation. “Because God made me this way.”

Hm. Ok. “Well, God made me this way.”

Then my nephew contradicted me. “No! It’s because you eat too much.” My brother laughed. He didn’t chide his son. He didn’t correct him. He laughed.

This rebuke coming from a self-professed bacon thief. My brother’s wife had to cook a pound of bacon any time bacon was served at breakfast. This was even a topic of conversation during this trip. Of all the people in the room to say I ate too much? My brother and nephew ate more than anyone.

In retrospect, I had a normal appetite. Maybe I had seconds of certain dishes from time to time, but everyone had seconds. I was no different than anyone else at the table. I had always been overweight. Since the age of 5. Just about my niece’s age.

What no one knew, or cared to know, was that I was battling my own body. For years. I was on my way to cancer. Thyroid. And no one cared. I was a joke. I was humiliated for a cheap laugh. I was made to feel that my battle was my own lazy fault. I was gluttonous. Slothful.

I pushed my niece aside. Quietly got up and left. I took a lonely walk that afternoon. Down an isolated back country road. I had no car, no place to stay, no place to go. I just walked. I was so angry. So hurt. I fumed and cried. But I didn’t want to be near anyone from that room. Not one person stood up for me.

My mother eventually drove up, parked the car, and we talked. But.

That day hurt. My relationship with my brother’s family was never the same after that day. Never. We left early the next morning.

Oh well.

Today I weigh 220 lbs. I’ve lost over 293 lbs. after losing my thyroid to cancer, my gall bladder to weight loss surgery and dragging myself through hell and back.

My brother’s family has had to struggle with weight and medical issues as well. I wonder if they still think it’s just a matter of overeating?


Matthew 7:1-3 NASB

Judging Others

“Do not judge so that you will not be judged. For in the way you judge, you will be judged; and by your standard of measure, it will be measured to you. Why do you look at the speck that is in your brother’s eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye?

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Hope

Hope during chaos
Focus in place of distraction
Courage under fire
Composure is required
Anger won’t bring satisfaction

Be open
Be brave
Be hope’s slave
And ride high on this blue wave


Hope requires faith
Faith is now accepting questions
Peace is an option

it only takes a second

from all the way back in 2013. a great reminder:

i just realized that all the pain and hurt that i have felt over the years is not in charge of who i am or what i will be. God is in charge and i will choose to live by his command of forgiveness and peace and live without fear, revenge or regret. to give my abuse a second life by holding on to the past is robbing me of my present and future. that abuse can no longer have any more of my life or health! to live in anger only causes personal suffering. i was driving down the road the other day and i crested the hill. there was a child in the street and my first reaction was to be angry. judge him for his actions, his parents lack of supervision or any reason to be upset with him. a child. and then, within seconds, i chose to put that down and wave and smile and be friendly to the kid. i shocked my husband and even myself. it only takes a second to choose kindness. it only takes a second to choose a better path.


Choosing a good path today! Good luck to you, too!

Tough as Nails

Here’s an old inking of nails that I did in drawing class at college. They were galvanized nails on a strip. I hate drawing, but I love to ink.


Drag those nails
Across my back.
Pound them in.
I can take your attack.

When you are done,
I’ll treat the pain.
I’ll save the nails
For a day with rain.

Later on, you’ll see.
Those nails? I use.
To build my empire.
Your abuse–my muse.

Duh-merica

SO! MAD! GAH!

Okay. So I was driving to my interview today (it went well) and I saw a Trumper sticker on the back of a luxury convertible Volvo. It read:

Trump 2016: Make America Strong Again

WTF??!

The driver was a bald, old, white guy. Let me just break this down for y’all.

What would make America strong again?

Well. For starters. Stop buying foreign-made cars, Dill-wad.

I own a Toyota Camry which is built right here in Kentucky, employing United States citizens. Do you know where Volvo is made? NOT IN THE USA! It’s built in 4 different places (none of which are in the US), and according to the article I cited, Volvo is owned by Ford. At the time of the article, that was true. Now, guess who owns Volvo? Chinese multinational globo-corp. GAH!

His Trumper sticker should have read:

Make China even stronger by buying this POS foreign-made luxury car.

How did this genius get enough money to own a convertible Volvo?

It made me so mad. So flipping mad. I wanted to kick that Trump sticker right in the wig.

Does this Floridian truly not understand what would make America strong again?

Jobs. Money. Economy. Hard work. Fairness. Transparency. Better representatives! Honesty. Integrity.

Does this jackhole know:
Where his car is made?
What side his bread is buttered on?
His ear from a hole in the ground?

So frustrated at the people who put this prrrr–esident in office. And they thought he would have the power to change things? He’s a puppet.

How can anyone believe that we are making America great again by electing a man with interests all around the world, including China? Trump will always put money and power above the US. Always. And he will lie right to your trusting, little face. And it’s not just him. These congressmen have stonewalled the American people for almost a decade for kickbacks and power. Now they want to make America strong by taking away our healthcare? Make America sick again.

I am sick. Sick of these Trumpsters.

I can’t believe that this Trump supporter puts materialism and ownership above the US! Even though his sticker says otherwise. Put your money where your mouth is. Don’t buy a flashy car. Don’t buy foreign. Support US jobs and OUR economy. Make America strong again, Jerk, by putting Americans back to work.

America isn’t great because we buy things. Or own things. Or own people, places or transportation. It started that way, but America is great today because we love and support one another. We are UNITED. Indivisible. Liberty and justice for all. Not just those who can afford it. That’s what makes America great. Or did. We were founded on Christian principals, but where are those tenets now? I see the faded stars and stripes of democracy.

I see the tattered remains of our American ideal whipping in the wind after an embattled election and further division. I am not heartened by our flag on the dawn. I am often disgusted by the misguided sentiment of those who don’t truly understand that America is currently owned by outside interests. America was sold to the highest bidder and we let it happen. The confusion I see on a daily basis regarding the willful ignorance of the Republican party is disturbing.

It’s less about fearing China, Russia or any foreign government. It’s about believing a congressman, president or politician when they say they are working for me. It’s a lie!

I will teach my daughter what happened and why. She’s my hope. I will talk about this problem as often as I can. As often as I understand what’s happening. I will say something if I see something.

I’m not afraid of terrorists. I’m afraid of my own government.

Gotta go kick something. Something orange.


If I’m incorrect about some data, please leave a respectful (or at least non-profane lol) comment below. And please cite sources.

Grumpy Cat!

WARNING: SOME FOUL LANGUAGE AHEAD (Little bit, and a little ugly spew, much like a cat’s hairball, about doctors. Sorry! If you need sunshine, keep scrolling. It has a happy ending though.)

I am a blonde (yes, I am, shut up!), blue-eyed, suburban, white housewife/mother of 1. Nonviolent, mostly. Soft and squishy around the edges. Sheltered and meek, having no upper body strength and bad knees. Kind to most strangers, frequent smiler. Helper of lost cats, dogs, children, poor people and domestic violence victims. I’m not a superhero (at all!), but if I was, I would want to use my powers to punch all the doctors in all the throats! At once!

Not all. But most.

My weight loss surgeon and his team have been awesome. They saved my life. (Even they couldn’t find my diseased gall bladder, though. I had to whine and squeal about it for weeks before they fished it out.) But all other doctors can go straight to…the ER, IMO. That would be hell.

I went to the endocrinologist yesterday. I would have rather had emergency rectal surgery. Every time I go to a bleeding endocrinologist, they are the worst. I don’t know why, but they are the snootiest, most ill-mannered doctors I have ever encountered. And I’ve encountered several doctors, of all kinds, lately.

I have lost a total of 166 lbs. Some on my own, some from my weight loss surgery. I went to the doctor yesterday and she wanted to argue about how much weight I’ve lost. I told her that I lost 109 lbs. since surgery.

“Actually, according to our records, you’ve only lost 96 lbs.”

I wanted to kill her. “Why argue with me? You’re not my weight loss surgeon. You’re not my magical talking digital scale from home. You’re nobody!! You have no idea what you’re talking about, what my journey is/was, what I’ve been through or the challenges that I face/have faced. Shut your bloody mouth!” is what I wanted to say.

But I just kept quiet and silently stewed. Mousy housewife that I am. Mousewife. There was no point in even engaging this ignorant, self-righteous She-doct-whore. (Sorry.) She also didn’t listen to me when I told her about my thyroid removal, gall bladder removal, medicine fluctuations, the other obstacles I’ve faced as an overweight patient, medical literature I’ve read about my condition because doctors didn’t know what was happening with me (I diagnosed my own G-D GB failure! for Christ’s sake), and countless other beneficial pieces of medical history. Didn’t want to hear it. She wanted me to answer her inane, predetermined questions.

The nurse asked me all those questions that nurses ask you:
Pregnancies, family history, illnesses, surgeries.
Then the bloody doctor asked the same stupid questions, all over again.
How many times do I have to answer? And how many times will you ignore my history? It didn’t matter that I answered those questions TWICE! because she didn’t even consider the answers!

I can tell you this right now, I will never answer two sets of questions again! Never! For any doctor. I will simply say, “Asked and answered!” It’s so friggin’ stupid. I’m intelligent, honest and consistent. I shouldn’t have to pass a security clearance to get medical help or be seen by a doctor.

BTW, she kept me waiting in the lobby for over an hour and saw me for only 15 minutes. I was a new patient. They will charge me over $400 for that shit. AND I was early for my appointment! I was early for my ass reaming. Gah!

“Make sure you arrive 15 minutes early to fill out paperwork!”

Not seeing this doctor ever again. Disgusted!!

Doctors think they can take advantage. I know you went to medical school, Doc. But you never seem to know what’s wrong with me. You got your medical degree, but you failed bedside manner.

Not feeling very thankful today. Working on it. :/ I got a new hat for my daughter’s field day at school tomorrow. I think Grumpy Cat is leaking through my skull. :<

grumpy cat hat 2.jpg

I AM SO SORRY, WORLD! When I frown, I look like my Grumpy Grandma. (Remind me to write about that sometime. She also criticized my weight loss for not having lost enough when I was 18, weird!) Attitude adjustment achieved. I like the way I look when I’m smiling.

martha bw dress half.jpgSo I can let anything roll off my whiskers.

Paranormal Revenge Fantasy (Cont.)

4. Back to the Beginning

John panicked. He was terrified by his own words spoken back to him. Those words are the ones he always whispered to women the moment before he kissed them for the first time. His mind flipped back through time, through each woman, flashing through pictures, rapidly increasing in speed. Then everything came to a bright, white halt.

He landed on the one picture he didn’t expect to see. His own mother. The image in his mind began to play like a home movie, soft and dull at first. Her dress and hair faded into vividly bright spots of swimming color. Her face comes close to his. Her face is distorted. She whispers, “You know what were going to do, don’t you?”

John shuddered and dropped the image like a boiling pan. He shut his eyes tightly and went blank. He tried to dampen the overwhelming feelings that struck like lightning bolts.

Hy sneered. “You’ll do whatever it takes, huh?”

“I get it,” John whimpered.

Hy reassured John. “You don’t get the half of it. That’s only the beginning.”

Present Tense

My book, Present Tense, is available on Amazon tomorrow for free. February 9-13! Normally $2.99. Check it out. It’s a quick read; probably finish in one go. Or if you have Kindle Unlimited, it’s free anytime. It’s a vignette-style memoir with a glance at PTSD and how it starts. It does not answer the question of recovery, but it gives an emotional starting place.

People (Sometimes) Suck

You don’t see me.
You never call.
You say you love me,
But you let me fall.

We’re friends, “You’re the best!”
Kisses. Hug!
But you trash and slash me
Like a common thug.

When my back is turned?
You’re no friend.
You tear me down
To absolutely no end.

I built you up.
And you stole from me.
Just a hanger-on.
That’s all. YOU’LL. EVER. BE!

This is my show.
Get your own.
Hard to be a star
When you’re all alone?

One day, you’ll wake up
And know you’re wrong.
But it’ll be too late,
I’m already gone!