We are all our own type of normal

I’m Interested in all that the world has for me. I’m interested in the effort put forth to make all of my life make sense. I’m interested in the people who at one point claimed to be real and honest in my life and in their true colors or turning point actually just became a stepping stone to my destiny. I’m interested in all the people who have been real and honest and helped up to those stepping stones that became the road to my destiny. I am so interested in everyone and everything that makes me wake up in the morning and give my love a kiss and my kids hugs. I am so deeply interested in making sense of all the negative energies that keep coming into my life and keep trying to take over my positive energies that are thriving if even only for moments. I’m hoping in all these valuable moments that I get to thoroughly possess in the tiny bits of time I do have, that all that is supposed to be will happen and be.

Now that I got that off my chest, I recently had a wonderful conversation with my loveliness that made a lot of sense. Honestly it sounded like something that I would of said in my right mind. She basically told me in the spouts of my insanity and depression that “We are all our own type of normal” whether it’s fat, skinny, tall, short, crazy, adhd, psychotic, schizophrenic, bipolar, ocd, or whatever it may be. I’ve caught myself getting down hard on myself when I catch our oldest having a severe episode and reliving each time he tried to hurt himself. The sad part is I never know if it’s real anger or if it’s from the “Voices” that drive him to that. It scares me that I may not be there one day and he may have an episode that will drive him to really hurt himself or even try to kill himself one day with out even knowing it. It’s one of the scariest things that go through my mind on a daily basis.

Then there’s the youngest that we have to convince all the time that there’s nothing wrong with him and and no one hates him. We have to tell him all the time that he’s a wonderful boy and sometimes people just have to go on vacation for a while. I feel bad for him. Now he’s trying to harm himself all the time. Figures there’s some other family out there that’s more important than him. We are always telling him we are here and we love him and we will do everything we can to prove to him we will never let him down to the best of our ability.

Our middle child has his own thing determining between what’s real in his life and what’s not real. What’s worth making a deal over and what’s not. He’s missing his best friend at this point and unfortunately he won’t see her till school starts again. I feel bad for him, but I’ve told him that’s what a having a friend is about. . . missing them so that when they do come back you appreciate them that much more. We all have to live our lives and learn from them bits and pieces at a time.

So with all this going on, I’m back at work and loving it! We have a great crew and we all work together pretty well. There are a couple of characters that I look forward to making the day go even faster and smoother when I work with them, but honestly they are all pretty awesome to work with. It’s nice staying busy again and with the new management I actually feel worthy of being there… well… that’s the dip today…

Oh and Secrets of the Velvet Closet; A Memoir will be available very soon in Amazon and stores soon following. Anyone know of Mclean and Eakin in Petoskey? Yep …

The Tiny Memories…

I’m very relative to the fact that the day is almost here. The day where I spill my guts to the world. The day where the pages of my youth come to the surface and all that makes me… will be clear to everyone and anyone who actually takes the time to open their eyes for the moment. The very bad things and very good things that cross my memory here and there. Truth be told all the story isn’t there, but honestly how could it be? How do we remember all the things that made us be who we are today? The memories start piling up. The tiny memories that dance in your mind of the innocence that once held your frail hand mind at play.


There’s so much to the story that evidently compares me to Anne Frank and her ever so popular book of stories. The story that is told to be dark and gloomy, but filled with laughter. The story that tells of a little girl who’s coming to be what the world would call normal. The problem being… she never learns what normal is until it’s too late… or is it? The thoughts that make her so ashamed of who she is. The people who make her scared to go to school everyday. Family should make it better right? We would all think so, but does it? The name calling? The put downs? Are they all worth it? Then she grows up and thinks things will be better now that she’s in a better home and neighborhood. One wrong decision causes the “writing on the wall”. The most horrific moment of her teenage career. So much for being a normal girl. So much for having a better life. What about when she gets older and thinks she in a decent relationship and all of a sudden, she discovers “the pictures”. What does all this mean? Then there’s the girl who is all grown up and making her own decisions. Someone notices and decides when she’s drunk it’s great to get her way (all of her way) with her.


So you see there’s all kinds of things that come into play reading this book. There’s so many subjects being covered. The different circumstances that are covered and gone through. Secrets of the Velvet Closet; A Memoir covers a story that is well heard of in one aspect, but still uncovers a truth that no one wants to hear or believe. The emotional roller-coaster that is caused will take you from laughter beyond your ability, shame beyond your understanding, tears beyond your knowledge of why. This is the reason why I’m shaking at the moment of final release of this book. This is the reason my palms sweat when I tell someone new about the final publication and the blood sweat and tears that’s gone into it. I catch myself stuttering and pacing or fidgeting when questions arise about this would be story of a little girl coming to be.


Back to work things get hectic and reality comes stirring back. The bills that need to be paid, the people that need to be pleased. The pets that need tending to. The children who need to be entertained and taught new things everyday. The money that needs to be slaved for. There’s comes a point when you realize you spend more time with your coworkers and boss than you do your own lady. You can’t look forward to seeing your significant other eight hours a day, so you have to convince yourself there’s someone at work you can look forward to seeing. Then by the time you are done making people happy for a living whether it’s just answering a question on a phone call or whether it’s convincing them the price they are paying for the service you are giving them, is more than worth the money.


So this daily grind is called life. This daily routine we hope to wake up another day to live again is called life. Now what makes us (our family) different? My partner and I are women and we are in a relationship together. This mean our three boys are our children together. That means we own a two story home on around five acres. That means we own a car in our name’s that we pay with our paychecks in the daily customer service driven grind I spoke of. That means we work on paying our bills to keep our lights on and to keep our children fed. So what’s different right? Well, according to the State of Michigan, we are different and unacceptable because of the first sentence I had stated. We are both female… we are lesbians… there I said it. We who are both females sleep in the same bed. We live our lives as we are together and will be married some day. We hold our hands when we walk into a store and we being together give each other loveyz when we part and tell each other “I love you”. Why? Believe it or not… we do love each other and believe me it’s real and we didn’t chose it. It just happened. We both knew what we felt and who we felt it to. We also know we’ve never felt like this before. We also know deep down that no body we’ve both either been with has ever made us realize so real who we really are!


So I ask again.. what’s so different? We are females who love each other and just want to be happy and live together with our family just like the families we see everyday of our lives. The difference at this time? We don’t get to experience the same benefits. Upon the time we decide to do the paperwork, our children will not go to our partner if something happens to us. Our taxes don’t join in matrimony for the benefit of our children. That paperwork behind our lives don’t get to come together for the benefit of our lives. This is a big part of a couple’s lives. I don’t want the sperm donor of our oldest to get him if something happens to me. So with so many things in place or not in place it’s hard to know everything will be OK when Michigan refuses to accept and understand our relationship as it is… REAL!


Let’s say you want to know the story of how “we” came to be. That’s Secrets of the Velvet Closet; A Memoir at it’s finest and most honest it can be. . .


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