- Robert Louis Stevenson
"When one man, for whatever reason, has the opportunity to lead an extraordinary life, he has no right to keep it to himself."
- Jacques-Yves Cousteau
- Jacques-Yves Cousteau
1.31.2011
nonne quicquam sanctum est?
“I have seen wicked men and fools, a great many of both, and I believe they both get paid in the end, but the fools first.”
- Robert Louis Stevenson
- Robert Louis Stevenson
1.30.2011
Ashley is five years old.
Last Monday at the after-school program where I work, Ashley stuck a straightened paper clip into a wall socket. You hear about kids doing this all the time. A little shock and they never do it again. Ashley will assuredly never do this again.
I don't know what weird combination of factors came together at just the wrong moment. None of us know exactly what happened. I didn't see it, but about 40 subsequently very freaked-out kids did. They told me various versions of the story, each more grisly than the last. As it turns out, none of them were exaggerating. The adults who were supervising that room at the time (it's a big room, and they can't be everywhere at once) told me that three jets of fire burst out of the wall, knocking Ashley back about ten feet.
The carpet was burned down to bare concrete in three spots, including a charred coil shaped like the unbent end of the paper clip. Before she dropped it, it burned an identical coil onto the side of Ashley's index finger.
Her hand was blackened and bloody. Her fingers were described to me (when I tell people this story, I cannot bring myself to say this out loud.) as being split open like a hotdog that's been in the microwave for too long. They said you could see things inside, like tendons, and bone.
The woman who wrapped up Ashley's hand, and put ice on it, and sat with her until we could get the mom on the phone to verbally ok our driving her child to the emergency room (the legal hoops we have to jump through in situations like this are unbelievable) - that woman, my co-worker, fainted while telling me this story. She's good in a crisis but blood freaks her out. When she came to, she cried.
Ashley's mom is an alcoholic. Divorced. Full custody. ("Please call my daddy. My daddy will come and take care of me.") She works from home and lives three minutes from the school, but does not pick Ashley up when school lets out at 2 - rather, she waits until 6:30, when the after-school program is ready to lock its doors. Ashley is always the last child to leave. Mom stomps in the door and growls, "Where's the little bitch?" They go home and Ashley is put to bed at 7 pm. She might get dinner and she might not.
Some of this information comes from Ashley, and kids exaggerate, but her father has confirmed that it is true. I have only spoken with him once. I told him he had a sweet kid (I did not mention how sad and scared she looks all the time. he knows.) and his eyes filled with tears and he touched me on the shoulder and he told me how hard he is fighting to get custody. He told me how much he misses her. Every day.
She didn't come back to school for days and days, and I was thinking, dude, even if they chop off your arm, you'd be back to school in a week, right? Unless. Unless your cunt of a mother gets pissed at you for being a kid and doing kid things, and she beats the shit out of you, or knocks you down the stairs, or breaks your arm, or punches you in the face and is ashamed to let the world see the black eye? A lot of things could happen. Every day: no Ashley. None of her friends have seen her. We call their house and the line's been disconnected. What do you do? I mean, really, what are you supposed to do?
Today, the kids are shuttling over from the school building to our building, and they're lining up to get signed in, and I'm checking their names off the list. And I look up and there she is. And she's grabbing Emma's butt with her good hand and Emma is sick of it and she is hollering QUIT IT, and Ashley is shrieking and I have to threaten to separate them, and I've never been happier.
Later, she lets me look at her hand. I'm no doctor but my verdict is: miracle. She says it hurts, and I think, Good, that means those parts are still hooked up right. I had been thinking amputation all week, but, no. It still looks pretty bad - vicious purple slashes on her index, middle, and thumb. But there is no black flesh, or disfigurement, or stumps. She will have scars - that coil, burned into the side of her finger, will always be there, I imagine.
I ask her if she got in trouble for what she did. She says her mom wasn't mad, only disappointed. Which probably amounts to a massive guilt trip laid on the poor kid. "Verbal abuse" is such a poor phrase for words that can ruin a kid's chances, from the start, of seeing herself as anything other than useless and in the way.
Then again, Ashley says her mom told her about when she was little, and she got a bad shock from an exposed wire. And she says that when they got home from the hospital, they watched a video and had ice cream. I know it is too much to expect that one bad accident could completely reverse this hateful woman's attitude toward her daughter, a lifetime (five years.) of disregard and cruelty. But then again people change all the time, and something has to start it. Right? Can I hope for that? This little, little kid doesn't want to tell me about how much her fingers hurt, she wants to tell me about how great it was to snuggle with her mom on the couch that night, watching 101 Dalmatians. She's shining up at me. She's so happy. Can I keep hoping for more of this? How can I not?
update: Today I happened to be in the lobby when Ashley's mother came to pick her up. I've never talked to her very much; she scares me. I made my face as innocent as all get out and I said, Hey, we were all so glad when we heard Ashley was all right.
I've never seen tears well up in anybody's eyes so fast. She said she was on the interstate when her cellphone rang, and they told her what was going on, and she had to pull over to throw up. "I mean, I just - " She closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead with her fist.
"I was so scared. You know?"
Yeah, I think. I know. And I think, you keep that taste in your mouth. You think about it. This might end up ok.
update, even better: Ashley's dad won full custody. She told me with a gigantic grin. "I get to go live with my daddy!"
I won't be seeing her any more - dad lives far away - which is fine. Ashley says her mom "has to go back to the hospital." I don't know if that means rehab or what, but it has to be a step in the right direction.
I don't know what weird combination of factors came together at just the wrong moment. None of us know exactly what happened. I didn't see it, but about 40 subsequently very freaked-out kids did. They told me various versions of the story, each more grisly than the last. As it turns out, none of them were exaggerating. The adults who were supervising that room at the time (it's a big room, and they can't be everywhere at once) told me that three jets of fire burst out of the wall, knocking Ashley back about ten feet.
The carpet was burned down to bare concrete in three spots, including a charred coil shaped like the unbent end of the paper clip. Before she dropped it, it burned an identical coil onto the side of Ashley's index finger.
Her hand was blackened and bloody. Her fingers were described to me (when I tell people this story, I cannot bring myself to say this out loud.) as being split open like a hotdog that's been in the microwave for too long. They said you could see things inside, like tendons, and bone.
The woman who wrapped up Ashley's hand, and put ice on it, and sat with her until we could get the mom on the phone to verbally ok our driving her child to the emergency room (the legal hoops we have to jump through in situations like this are unbelievable) - that woman, my co-worker, fainted while telling me this story. She's good in a crisis but blood freaks her out. When she came to, she cried.
Ashley's mom is an alcoholic. Divorced. Full custody. ("Please call my daddy. My daddy will come and take care of me.") She works from home and lives three minutes from the school, but does not pick Ashley up when school lets out at 2 - rather, she waits until 6:30, when the after-school program is ready to lock its doors. Ashley is always the last child to leave. Mom stomps in the door and growls, "Where's the little bitch?" They go home and Ashley is put to bed at 7 pm. She might get dinner and she might not.
Some of this information comes from Ashley, and kids exaggerate, but her father has confirmed that it is true. I have only spoken with him once. I told him he had a sweet kid (I did not mention how sad and scared she looks all the time. he knows.) and his eyes filled with tears and he touched me on the shoulder and he told me how hard he is fighting to get custody. He told me how much he misses her. Every day.
She didn't come back to school for days and days, and I was thinking, dude, even if they chop off your arm, you'd be back to school in a week, right? Unless. Unless your cunt of a mother gets pissed at you for being a kid and doing kid things, and she beats the shit out of you, or knocks you down the stairs, or breaks your arm, or punches you in the face and is ashamed to let the world see the black eye? A lot of things could happen. Every day: no Ashley. None of her friends have seen her. We call their house and the line's been disconnected. What do you do? I mean, really, what are you supposed to do?
Today, the kids are shuttling over from the school building to our building, and they're lining up to get signed in, and I'm checking their names off the list. And I look up and there she is. And she's grabbing Emma's butt with her good hand and Emma is sick of it and she is hollering QUIT IT, and Ashley is shrieking and I have to threaten to separate them, and I've never been happier.
Later, she lets me look at her hand. I'm no doctor but my verdict is: miracle. She says it hurts, and I think, Good, that means those parts are still hooked up right. I had been thinking amputation all week, but, no. It still looks pretty bad - vicious purple slashes on her index, middle, and thumb. But there is no black flesh, or disfigurement, or stumps. She will have scars - that coil, burned into the side of her finger, will always be there, I imagine.
I ask her if she got in trouble for what she did. She says her mom wasn't mad, only disappointed. Which probably amounts to a massive guilt trip laid on the poor kid. "Verbal abuse" is such a poor phrase for words that can ruin a kid's chances, from the start, of seeing herself as anything other than useless and in the way.
Then again, Ashley says her mom told her about when she was little, and she got a bad shock from an exposed wire. And she says that when they got home from the hospital, they watched a video and had ice cream. I know it is too much to expect that one bad accident could completely reverse this hateful woman's attitude toward her daughter, a lifetime (five years.) of disregard and cruelty. But then again people change all the time, and something has to start it. Right? Can I hope for that? This little, little kid doesn't want to tell me about how much her fingers hurt, she wants to tell me about how great it was to snuggle with her mom on the couch that night, watching 101 Dalmatians. She's shining up at me. She's so happy. Can I keep hoping for more of this? How can I not?
update: Today I happened to be in the lobby when Ashley's mother came to pick her up. I've never talked to her very much; she scares me. I made my face as innocent as all get out and I said, Hey, we were all so glad when we heard Ashley was all right.
I've never seen tears well up in anybody's eyes so fast. She said she was on the interstate when her cellphone rang, and they told her what was going on, and she had to pull over to throw up. "I mean, I just - " She closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead with her fist.
"I was so scared. You know?"
Yeah, I think. I know. And I think, you keep that taste in your mouth. You think about it. This might end up ok.
update, even better: Ashley's dad won full custody. She told me with a gigantic grin. "I get to go live with my daddy!"
I won't be seeing her any more - dad lives far away - which is fine. Ashley says her mom "has to go back to the hospital." I don't know if that means rehab or what, but it has to be a step in the right direction.
1.29.2011
Omegle
You: Hello
Stranger: hiya
You: Mmm?
Stranger: how are you today?
Stranger: mmmm what?
You: I was just waiting to see what you were typing.
You: How are youuu doing?
Stranger: lol im ok tired but good... yourself?
You: I'm alright. Why are you tired?
Stranger: didnt get much sleep last night and ive been doing housework all morning
You: Yuck.
You: I live with three guys right now and I can't be bothered to clean up after them, haha.
Stranger: I live with 3 guys and i hate it but if i don't do it it never gets done and i hate living in a pigsty
You: That's why I make an event out of it. My roommates are gonna go party in a bit so I'm planning on drinking a few shots of rum and making this place look nice for the first time in a month.
You: Maybe you should try that. Probably after you get some sleep though.
Stranger: lol screw the sleep... i'll end up snoozing all day lol i might do that though have a few and then pump the music and clean lol
You: Hahaha! You go to school?
Stranger: Nah i work.. you?
You: I'm still just a student.
You: How come you live with three guys?
Stranger: i live with my boyfriend, his brother and his brothers boyfriend .... how old are you if you still go to school ?
You: I'm turning 20 this summer.
You: You're a girl? I feel really bad for you then.
Stranger: Lol you're a guy i take it?
You: Mm-hmm.
Stranger: Actually a guy picking up after 3 guys is worse...it's in my DNA apparently to be a maid is a womans job lmao
You: It's the same thing, though. I can't live in a pigsty for too long.
You: I just keep hearing my mom saying, "Clean this mess up."
Stranger: hahaha... it's funny how you never stop hearing that no matter how old you are lol
You: Haha, yeah I guess so.
Stranger: So you're from USA i'm guessing?
You: Yes. You're not?
You: Also, what brings you to Omegle?
Stranger: No i am not American.. I was bored of Housework and wanted a break. What about yourself?
You: I like hearing people's stories, and I think being on the internet allows people to be either really honest or really funny.
You: Also, I don't want to do my homework yet.
Stranger: hahaha well i can relate to the 2nd reason
Stranger: it's true more people open up when they're not face to face with you
You: Plus, it's strangers! Something about someone being a stranger makes it easier to tell them your secrets, don't you think?
Stranger: Yes it kind of is easier to say it to someone i don't know.... So in saying that.... Have you got any deep dark secrets you want to share with a Stranger lol
You: Actually, I wanted to ask you if you'd tell me a story? I wanted to hear about the last time you felt lonely, and what it was like.
Stranger: The last time i felt lonely huh??? that's not a very good story i feel lonely alot lately
You: Then tell me about that.
You: (For what it's worth, I've been feeling really lonely, too).
Stranger: Why have you been feeling lonely... you sound like you've got alot of friends??
You: No fair, I asked first!
Stranger: Awww come on.... i'm not good at talking about me ;)
You: Those are usually the people with the best stories, though.
Stranger: Well what do you want to hear really?
You: We don't have to talk about feeling lonely. Instead, tell me about when you feel the least lonely.
Stranger: Well i suppose that would be when i'm with my boyfriend, Usually in bed before he goes to sleep. or when we're doing things together without any other girl around so i know he focuses on me
Stranger: i know i sound selfish but that's just me
Stranger: What about you?
You: That's not selfish! That shows how much you value his attention.
Stranger: Well he and others see it as selfish and find it weird that i want his attention
You: I wonder why. You don't sound like you're clingy or too needy.
Stranger: Well they see it as though i am... i'm just in love i suppose
Stranger: So i've told you mine now tell me yours... lol
You: I have a few really good friends. And when I'm with them, it's like I don't need anything else.
You: I love them. You said you were in love, too. Does that mean you love your boyfriend?
You: What is love to you?
Stranger: it's hard to put the meaning of love into words.... But i suppose to me love is an undying want to be with the person you're with, a need to know what they
Stranger: want or need and helping them get it
Stranger: but like i said it's hard to put it into words without it sounding weird
You: That doesn't sound weird at all. Is it like wanting them to be the happiest they can be because that makes you happy, too? Or is that not it at all?
Stranger: That's it... you've summed it up for me... i could never have put it so well
You: But what about you?
You: I mean
You: I don't know what I mean, haha.
Stranger: Lol Well since you don't know what you mean how about we change the subject to....... When was the last time you were in love?
You: I really like that question. But I don't think I've ever been in love. Not yet. Love and "in love" or different things to me, though. Is it the same for you?
Stranger: Yes it's the same.... there is a major difference.
Stranger: Well how about, When was the last time you had fun?
You: Wait, wait--what's the difference for you?
You: Between love and in love?
You: I'm actually trying to write a letter to my friend about that, but I don't know what to say.
Stranger: Well being in love is like what you said before being in love is wanting the other person to be happy no matter what and living to be with them and just love is liking the company of a person, spending time with them where you're the happiest you've been in ages, i'm not too good with words when describing my side of things at times
You: Do you think one is truer? Or more honest?
You: What you said makes a lot of sense, by the way.
Stranger: You know i don't know how to answer that question you've stumped me
You: You said you were in love with your boyfriend. But do you love him?
Stranger: i do actually, i love him more than anything in the world he is the first person in my life that i have truly, honestly and unconditionally loved
You: Do you know if he loves you the same way?
Stranger: Well it's nothing for him to say it becasue any one can say it, but the things he does kind of proves that it might be the case
You: Things like what?
Stranger: well i'll give you an example,
Stranger: Last year his family started hating me and decided to make up lies about me and assault me, he could have listened to them and left me but he didn't he stayed an has suppourted me throught the court cases against them. and i didn't ask him to choose his parents did and he still chose me
You: Oh, man. What were they saying about you? Why would they hate you?
Stranger: His little brother accused me of stealing his credit card, and using it for lesbian websites (i'm bisexual) when it was proven that he was wrong and that he used it and blamed it on me his whole family turned on me, They were calling me so many names that i hate to repeat
Stranger: Bf's little bro hit me in the head pushed a door onto my head and knocked me out, and then he decided to kick me in my private areas causing some damage
Stranger: and he still wasn't charged with assault
You: That's terrible!
Stranger: Yeah i couldn't walk outside my door for 2 months after it but i've gotten over it and moved on
You: And your boyfriend stayed with you. I think you're right, he really must love you.
You: I'm sorry you had to go through that, though.
Stranger: Yeah he stayed an put up with my depression... i had a bad childhood so i got used to it years ago
Stranger: i still sit here with a smile on my face that even though his family hates me he loves me and would die for me
You: You're not depressed anymore, are you? I've been doing a lot of reading about depression lately.
Stranger: No i do get bouts of depression every now and then but it's very rare lol
You: If I ask you what it's like, and if you talk about it, will it make it worse for you? I'm afraid that I might be depressed, but I don't know if I'm just saying that to have an excuse.
Stranger: it won't make it worse at all.. Why do you think you're depressed?
You: I don't see a point to living anymore. And I don't mean I'm suicidal, rather, I just can't care about the things I should anymore.
You: Although I'm a lot better now that I was last year.
Stranger: Well from someone who has tried to commit suicide twice you sound like you're just over it all.... You must have alot that's been stressing you out to be feeling that.
You: Not really. I just feel lonely. How do you know when another bout of depression is coming on?
Stranger: Well i don't feeli like making any effort, i don't feel like cleaning up, or going out, i don't Want to talk or listen and i get fed up with people who tell me their problems and stuff
You: What starts it? Or does it just happen slowly?
Stranger: usually it's something someone says that starts me off angry and then goes into a depression it happens relatively quickly with me but i have been diagnosed with manic depression and i am ADD so it makes it worse
You: What makes it so bad that it drives you to consider suicide? I've only been that far down once, and even then it wasn't a serious attempt.
Stranger: my first attempt was when my mum had deserted me to be with a man, i was left to take care of an elderly woman who was dependant on me, i was 16, had been raped by my then boyfriend, and had been blamed for things that weren't my fault i just felt that the world was against me
You: You've been through a lot, haven't you?
Stranger: yeah and that was the start of my chronic depression
You: It makes me wonder what kind of person you really are.
You: You sound very strong.
Stranger: you have to be in this society us Aussies are resilient
You: I believe it. Probably a lot more resilient than most Americans.
Stranger: lol debatable at times
You: Haha, yeah, I guess so! Why do you say "you have to be in this society", though?
Stranger: The way things are theses days compared to say 10 years ago it's a higher pressure society in which you can't fail
You: What happens if you fail
Stranger: People criticise you for what you're doing worng and don't see the outside influences that add stress to your life
You: What if you just don't care?
Stranger: Well those people will eventually go away i suppose.... i wouldn't know i took myself out of the way of criticism ages ago so i didn't go crazy
Stranger: I've kinda got to go have a shower but i really like talking to you.... so you can either wait for me here or email me and we can continue this discussion later on my email is ashleighbullpitt@yahoo.com.au
You: Haha, I think I'm gonna go drink some rum and clean this pigsty, but thanks for talking with me.
You: I'll save for your e-mail for sometime in the future, but for now, have a great day.
Stranger: You too good luck with the cleaning
You: Thanks.
SMS text
I was awoken today by a text message -- he was looking for someone who sat next to him and told him about their ex and how they had been "kid naped" (sic).
The funny thing is, I wasn't sure it wasn't me he was looking for.
The funny thing is, I wasn't sure it wasn't me he was looking for.
1.27.2011
Oh yeah so like
I thought I was going to say something really profound but you know what nevermind. Btdubz, blog, I'm gonna show a lot of you to Book, 'kay? Kool beans, brobrah.
MORTAL KOMBATTTTT!!1111!
Duh duh duh dun dun dun dundundun duh duh duh duh dunudndunundunun
FIINISH HIM
FATALITY
MORTAL KOMBATTTTT!!1111!
Duh duh duh dun dun dun dundundun duh duh duh duh dunudndunundunun
FIINISH HIM
FATALITY
1.25.2011
1.24.2011
1.22.2011
1.13.2011
A POEM
dear god
mind is blown
just like my head
struggling to sleep, gotta get outta bed
dont you know you're so smooth
...like peanut butter and nuttella
i slept with your wife
just please dont tell her
mind is blown
just like my head
struggling to sleep, gotta get outta bed
dont you know you're so smooth
...like peanut butter and nuttella
i slept with your wife
just please dont tell her
1.11.2011
Words to comfort someone grieving
DO SAY:
DON’T SAY:
- I am sorry
- Tell me how I can help; I want to be here for you.
- ___________ was a good person and friend of mine. I will miss him or her.
- Would you like a hug?
- Please tell me what you are feeling right now, I have never been through something like this and can only imagine.
- It's ok if you do not feel like talking right now. Just know that I am here to listen whenever you are ready.
- “I love you” (if you are close enough)
- talk openly and directly about the person who died
DON’T SAY:
- "I know how you feel." Truthfully, you don’t know how they feel no one does whether you have been through a loss before or not! Don’t be surprised if the turn around and scream, “YOU don’t know how I feel, no one knows how bad I feel!”
- “You should...” or “Time heals all wounds.” offering advice or quick solutions just ends up frustrating and upsetting the grieving person.
- “At least he’s no longer in pain.” or “She’s in a better place now.” Or “It was God’s timing/will.” Trying to cheer the person up or distract from the emotional intensity only helps to prolong the grieving process and may even alienate them from you.
- “Oh, it’s not that bad.” Or “You’ll be ok.” Or “Things will go back to normal before you know it.” Or “It will get better." Grieving people know this intellectually, but in their heart, they may feel so lost and alone. These statements tend to minimize the loss and could upset the grieving person and they may even feel frustrated and angry with you.
- "Just call me if there is anything I can do." In the midst of grief, you just can’t think straight and you have no idea what you need. It’s up to you to call and if the grieving person does not want to speak with anyone, he or she will not answer the phone. If they don’t answer, the phone just leave a supportive message and let them know you are thinking about them
- "Don't cry." It is uncomfortable and painful to see someone you care about cry but telling him or her not to cry only prolongs the process and does not support the natural grieving process that needs to occur.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
