The Seismic Shock
January 31, 2012.
Just after midnight.
(The devil loves the dark.)
The jolt was nor recorded
on any earth-bound
earthquake
monitoring device.
But it registered at close to a ten
or more
on my own personal ricter scale.
Pornography.
Such a fancy-shmancy word
for dispicable deeds.
Porn.
Much more appropriate a word.
A four-letter word
of the dirty deed type.
He was watching.
Moving porn.
He says he cannot remember what.
"2 people having sex.
Porn.
It's all the same."
He won't say more.
He says he dozed off
in the middle.
And that is suppose to be comforting?
I know he won't say
because he's hiding
to protect himself.
That's what he does.
"Gay porn," the whispers speak to my mind.
And I cannot conot compete.
Not that I could with any sort,
anyway.
The seismic shock that hit,
when I saw what he was trying to
hide,
knocked down every part of me...
...but one.
My FAITH stands
still.
Other faceades
only a few walls
still sway
in after-shocks that hit
nearly every day.
There is no part of me
left steady standing;
But the construct of FAITH.
Strong and firm, steady and still
stands apart.
Upon closer inspection...
deeper pondering
I realize...
I come to understand.
This man should never have had the
POWER
to destroy me in far under an
hour.
I gave it him.
I trusted in the arm of the flesh.
I built most of me
on our marriage.
My FAITH, though,
built by inhuman hands,
supports and joists and all that important build-y stuff:
sunk deep into THE ROCK.
And so I see.
I need to rebuild me
with supports and joists and all that important build-y stuff
sunk deep in The Rock.
I thought I had,
honestly.
For, you see,
this is not my first
earthquake.
But apparently,
I did not sink deep enough
or connect profoundly enough
to The Rock
to be swayed, but not broken
by a seismic shock
of mega-proportions.
And the whispers urge me
to build more carefully.
I certainly intend to!
But just right now...
I'm just trying, right now...
to clean up the mess
of me
in my little nothing world.
For what he, my hubby,
and you
can't see
is the crumbled structures.
The shattered glass.
The brokeness
inside me.
He fusses, "Don't you see me trying?"
And I feel to hang my head
and whisper, "Just like every time
you do wrong... but it doesn't stick.
You don't KEEP trying."
But he wouldn't hear,
because he wouldn't want to hear.
Just like me.
You see...
we are one.
His deed now...
was my deed long ago.
He didn't care.
Wouldn't have cared.
But I still did wrong.
So now it's come back to me
in the most painful way possible
thus far.
And I wish
I had always been
a different me.
For then,
the one we are
would be different,
too.
POST-Post Note
I meant to share this immediately after the Shame post, but forgot. Sorry. I hope you appreciated it somehow.
Showing posts with label depression. Show all posts
Showing posts with label depression. Show all posts
Monday, March 19, 2012
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
The Next Question
I'm sure it has everything to do with the way I think and process my world, but if I was a reader of a blog like this and read the last post, I'd want to know what the author of it DOES look like. So, I imagine a question a little something like, "You're not a hot Mama, so what DO you look like? Tell me something about who you ARE, not just who you are NOT."
I'm nobody special. You know the girl. I could be the one everyone knows, but nobody REALLY knows. I may be the girl on the back row in Relief Society or Sunday School, quiet, looking slightly (or a lot) scared... who nobody knows. Either way, I bet you can guess: I feel like nobody really knows me. Mayeb everybody feels this way! I only know how I feel and I definitely feel like nobody REALLY knows me... or cares to try to REALLY get to know me.
Yes, I do realize that this is partially my fault. Truly I do. But when you realize you cannot trust your husband... because he lies to your face... or yells accusations at you about the kind of person he perceives you to be after all the years of your marriage... and you've known him (and thought he knew you) longer than anybody - except your Mom (and maybe Dad and/or siblings)... Well, probably YOU are a better and stronger person than ME. But as for me... well, I stopped being able to freely trust others when I found out my husband had lied bald-faced lies to my face regularly... and for multiple years (when I first found out, the lies had been fed me for at least 3 years!).
Lies are a really big deal to me. I consider myself both a truth seeker AND a truth speaker. A bit like Nephi (the first one). In case you've never read the Book of Mormon, I recommend reading through the first two books, at least, to understand what I'm talking about. This is a character trait I've liked about myself. So... it's been difficult to feel mistrustful of others and not be as bold or FULLY honest as I used to be. I don't lie striaght out lies. But I have begun to leave things out. Lies of omission are still lies, my friend. So, I'm becomming a lying sinner. :( I know I was always a sinner... but lies!?? grrrr...
Back to the question... more directly: I'm 5'2" tall. I'm right around 250 pounds fluffy. I haven't stepped on the scale recently, though... I'm afraid to see what the actual reading is! I have long brown hair shot through with increasingly thick streaks of gray. Someone recently-ish told me that they thought it was blonde (the streaks). I'm not sure they were being truthful because I could perceive that they WERE trying to be kind. Too bad the two don't usually walk hand in hand!
My eyes are blue. Although I'm sure it's a pretty blue, it's not a remarkable blue. Most people don't realize I have blue eyesuntil they look upon my children and wonderf where their strikingly beautiful eyes come from. Well, since Beauty Man's eyes are green... blue wins out most (if not all) of the time. So far, blue has won out every time in our progeny. :)
Thankfully, though I am a chubbly monster girl, I'm fluffy in a relatively well-proportioned way. Thank God for small mercies, right!? The fatness on me is not the sort of firm kind some chubby girls have. It's jello-ey like gross-ness. I told you I was monsterous by "American Beauty" standards. My husband is about 100 pounds lighter than e... but way heavier in sins of omission AND comission than me. I think I try to eat his hiding... anyway... back to me and how I look.
I have oversized hands and feet. My hands are actually the same size as my husband's; only fatter. Additionally, my chubby, oversized mannish-hands just don't move as gracefully or beautifully as my Beauty Man's. My feet are a size 10 wide (women's, thankfully). Oh... and I have high arches! Talk about di-i-fficult to find comfy shoes!! It's far more fitting as Monster Girl to wear comfortable shoes. I do wear flip-flops as much as possible. No worries about stuffing fluffy feet into too tight shoes if the shoes are flip-flops! :) Yes, I do wear them in the winter - mostly. Every once in a while it does get too cold and I wear my other pair of shoes. I prefer, though, bare feet most of all! ^_^
I also prefer comfy clothes. Modest, too. I feel SUPER strange if someone compliments my attire. I'd rather hide by my clothes and stick out by my pleasant countenance and kindnesses. But that's just me.
I don't do my nails. In fact, I keep them short enough that I've been mistaken for a pianist, guitarist, and/or artist. Oh... I wish on that last one... the first, too, really... but the last most of all!
I don't wear make-up. I don't wear jewelry. I'll tell you about my jewels later. :) I wear skirts and blouses. I would wear dresses if I wasn't nursing, but I hope to be nursing for some time yet - whether my current baby or the next. At least, I hope there will be a next! Oh, how I hope! I feel like I know them... the babies "missing" as yet. Oh, how I hope for them... but that, too, is a story for another time. :)
Given this self-description, you might think that I don't like me. Before the most recent horrible "earthquake" in my marriage, I was atually quite happy with me. Mostly. I mean, I was still working out some of the pain left over from the shock of the negative confrontation that was biggest prior to the most recent one... but I had definitely reached a place of acceptance and even quite a lot of peace and even some happiness in and with myself. You might also suggest that my self-image is a result of the depression I'm working to come out of right now. You may be on to something in that. It sure is amazing what catastrophic damage I've allowed the tumult in my marriage to cause in my heart! :(
As ever... if you know who I am... shhhh... I'd like my identity to stay between you and me!
I'm nobody special. You know the girl. I could be the one everyone knows, but nobody REALLY knows. I may be the girl on the back row in Relief Society or Sunday School, quiet, looking slightly (or a lot) scared... who nobody knows. Either way, I bet you can guess: I feel like nobody really knows me. Mayeb everybody feels this way! I only know how I feel and I definitely feel like nobody REALLY knows me... or cares to try to REALLY get to know me.
Yes, I do realize that this is partially my fault. Truly I do. But when you realize you cannot trust your husband... because he lies to your face... or yells accusations at you about the kind of person he perceives you to be after all the years of your marriage... and you've known him (and thought he knew you) longer than anybody - except your Mom (and maybe Dad and/or siblings)... Well, probably YOU are a better and stronger person than ME. But as for me... well, I stopped being able to freely trust others when I found out my husband had lied bald-faced lies to my face regularly... and for multiple years (when I first found out, the lies had been fed me for at least 3 years!).
Lies are a really big deal to me. I consider myself both a truth seeker AND a truth speaker. A bit like Nephi (the first one). In case you've never read the Book of Mormon, I recommend reading through the first two books, at least, to understand what I'm talking about. This is a character trait I've liked about myself. So... it's been difficult to feel mistrustful of others and not be as bold or FULLY honest as I used to be. I don't lie striaght out lies. But I have begun to leave things out. Lies of omission are still lies, my friend. So, I'm becomming a lying sinner. :( I know I was always a sinner... but lies!?? grrrr...
Back to the question... more directly: I'm 5'2" tall. I'm right around 250 pounds fluffy. I haven't stepped on the scale recently, though... I'm afraid to see what the actual reading is! I have long brown hair shot through with increasingly thick streaks of gray. Someone recently-ish told me that they thought it was blonde (the streaks). I'm not sure they were being truthful because I could perceive that they WERE trying to be kind. Too bad the two don't usually walk hand in hand!
My eyes are blue. Although I'm sure it's a pretty blue, it's not a remarkable blue. Most people don't realize I have blue eyesuntil they look upon my children and wonderf where their strikingly beautiful eyes come from. Well, since Beauty Man's eyes are green... blue wins out most (if not all) of the time. So far, blue has won out every time in our progeny. :)
Thankfully, though I am a chubbly monster girl, I'm fluffy in a relatively well-proportioned way. Thank God for small mercies, right!? The fatness on me is not the sort of firm kind some chubby girls have. It's jello-ey like gross-ness. I told you I was monsterous by "American Beauty" standards. My husband is about 100 pounds lighter than e... but way heavier in sins of omission AND comission than me. I think I try to eat his hiding... anyway... back to me and how I look.
I have oversized hands and feet. My hands are actually the same size as my husband's; only fatter. Additionally, my chubby, oversized mannish-hands just don't move as gracefully or beautifully as my Beauty Man's. My feet are a size 10 wide (women's, thankfully). Oh... and I have high arches! Talk about di-i-fficult to find comfy shoes!! It's far more fitting as Monster Girl to wear comfortable shoes. I do wear flip-flops as much as possible. No worries about stuffing fluffy feet into too tight shoes if the shoes are flip-flops! :) Yes, I do wear them in the winter - mostly. Every once in a while it does get too cold and I wear my other pair of shoes. I prefer, though, bare feet most of all! ^_^
I also prefer comfy clothes. Modest, too. I feel SUPER strange if someone compliments my attire. I'd rather hide by my clothes and stick out by my pleasant countenance and kindnesses. But that's just me.
I don't do my nails. In fact, I keep them short enough that I've been mistaken for a pianist, guitarist, and/or artist. Oh... I wish on that last one... the first, too, really... but the last most of all!
I don't wear make-up. I don't wear jewelry. I'll tell you about my jewels later. :) I wear skirts and blouses. I would wear dresses if I wasn't nursing, but I hope to be nursing for some time yet - whether my current baby or the next. At least, I hope there will be a next! Oh, how I hope! I feel like I know them... the babies "missing" as yet. Oh, how I hope for them... but that, too, is a story for another time. :)
Given this self-description, you might think that I don't like me. Before the most recent horrible "earthquake" in my marriage, I was atually quite happy with me. Mostly. I mean, I was still working out some of the pain left over from the shock of the negative confrontation that was biggest prior to the most recent one... but I had definitely reached a place of acceptance and even quite a lot of peace and even some happiness in and with myself. You might also suggest that my self-image is a result of the depression I'm working to come out of right now. You may be on to something in that. It sure is amazing what catastrophic damage I've allowed the tumult in my marriage to cause in my heart! :(
As ever... if you know who I am... shhhh... I'd like my identity to stay between you and me!
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
You Can Call me "Monster Girl"
I haven't had the question yet (I don't think anyone knows I'm here), but I imagine it'll come, so I'm going to just go ahead and tell ya so you don't have to ask. The question I've imagined goes a little something like this: "Why are you called Monster Girl?"
Honestly, it has everything to do with one of those hopes... or beliefs... that died. I'll give the details on THAT and then link back here later. Suffice it to say that since the most recent and really very gorey death, I've felt like a horrible, ugly, shameful monster. Yes, I DO, in fact, know that these feelings have been inspired by the enemy of my soul. I know this intellectually. The truth definitely has NOT sunk down to my heart yet, though!
Compared to the American ideal of beauty, I am rather monsterous, really. You may disagree if you could see me. But since you can't and won't.... probably ever... well, you'll just have to trust me on this. I don't look like a hottie. I'm not sexy. I'm definitely NOT "One Hot Mama." I'm nobody's (no, not even my husband's) idea of any kind of pin-up girl. I'm just not.
I am easy to get along with... for most people. Not my husband (obviously - else this blog would never have come into my life as a sweet secret and lifeline out of depression).
By-the-way... did I mention that as soon as I woke from the nap I took right after I had this idea, I felt like a switch... like a light switch had been flicked on? It's true. I felt excited and purposeful. It felt really rather strange to feel so very "done" with depression as I felt then. I got up quickly (not my normal mode since that episode of depression hit), got dressed, got kiddos moving and we went out for only the second time in weeks - except for Sunday services at church. Those don't really count as "going out," though. So, I feel wonderful! I'm so glad to have this new place to meet Sisters in this fire*!
Remember: shhhh, don't tell anyone who I am if you think you know or you Do know! Please. :)
*Malachi 3:2 But who may abide the day of his coming? and who shall stand when he appeareth? for he is like a refiner's fire, and like fullers’ soap:
Honestly, it has everything to do with one of those hopes... or beliefs... that died. I'll give the details on THAT and then link back here later. Suffice it to say that since the most recent and really very gorey death, I've felt like a horrible, ugly, shameful monster. Yes, I DO, in fact, know that these feelings have been inspired by the enemy of my soul. I know this intellectually. The truth definitely has NOT sunk down to my heart yet, though!
Compared to the American ideal of beauty, I am rather monsterous, really. You may disagree if you could see me. But since you can't and won't.... probably ever... well, you'll just have to trust me on this. I don't look like a hottie. I'm not sexy. I'm definitely NOT "One Hot Mama." I'm nobody's (no, not even my husband's) idea of any kind of pin-up girl. I'm just not.
I am easy to get along with... for most people. Not my husband (obviously - else this blog would never have come into my life as a sweet secret and lifeline out of depression).
By-the-way... did I mention that as soon as I woke from the nap I took right after I had this idea, I felt like a switch... like a light switch had been flicked on? It's true. I felt excited and purposeful. It felt really rather strange to feel so very "done" with depression as I felt then. I got up quickly (not my normal mode since that episode of depression hit), got dressed, got kiddos moving and we went out for only the second time in weeks - except for Sunday services at church. Those don't really count as "going out," though. So, I feel wonderful! I'm so glad to have this new place to meet Sisters in this fire*!
Remember: shhhh, don't tell anyone who I am if you think you know or you Do know! Please. :)
*Malachi 3:2 But who may abide the day of his coming? and who shall stand when he appeareth? for he is like a refiner's fire, and like fullers’ soap:
Thursday, December 15, 2011
The Choice (poem)
I'm gunna be
in a wrecked marriage.
So the question is:
will I be miserable in
this wrecked marriage?
OR
will I be happy in
this wrecked marriage?
The choice is mine alone.
The marriage will be
wrecked
so long as Beauty Man
refuses
to make the necessary
repairs.
No matter how often
i try
to get him to look under
the hood,
none of it matters if he
refuses
to see what is there
when he looks.
So, I need not be miserable
THOUGH
that is definitely the easier emotion to
feel;
given the circumstance.
So, I must choose happiness
each moment.
in a wrecked marriage.
So the question is:
will I be miserable in
this wrecked marriage?
OR
will I be happy in
this wrecked marriage?
The choice is mine alone.
The marriage will be
wrecked
so long as Beauty Man
refuses
to make the necessary
repairs.
No matter how often
i try
to get him to look under
the hood,
none of it matters if he
refuses
to see what is there
when he looks.
So, I need not be miserable
THOUGH
that is definitely the easier emotion to
feel;
given the circumstance.
So, I must choose happiness
each moment.
Friday, December 2, 2011
Self-Introduction
Have you ever felt like everything in your world was falling apart, only to realize, upon closer contemplation of the situation, that the only thing falling apart was your marriage? Well, I have... pretty recently, too! :-p
I decided to open this blog totally anonymously so that I might feel free to really get into the nitty-gritty of dealing with my FrankenMonster of a Marriage. The idea for this blog came to me after a good hard fit of crying, sobbing the ugly cry, after yet another painful interaction with my husband.
After deciding to write here anonymously, I also decided to do it sort of secretly. By that I do NOT mean a horrible "secret," but really the kind of sweet secret you get to hold between the time you find out you're preggie and when you tell your hubbie...and then the time between holding that sweet secret together and tell the world. THAT kind of secret. ^_^ Only this time, I rather think "gestation" may be the duration of my life. Hopefully what's left of it is LOTs and lots... so, we have time to become good friends... sort of... in an anonymous sort of way (on my side, at least)... here in internet land.
So, why FrankenMonster Marriage? Well, I don't know if this is just me being weird... I don't know if anyone else out there has had feelings like the ones I've had and I'm going to share... ... ...but if YOU get it... I hope you'll comment so I might have the chance to feel not quite so alone. That would be so super truly awesome!
I guess a long time ago I had these hopes. Expectations too. Most of them (I honestly think ALL of them, but I'll say most just to be safe) were born of words from my Love's mouth. So, I liken those hopes and expectations to living breathing human beings. They have slowly died of various maladies over the years. Most, though, have died as a result of a knife in the back in the form of lies revealed. They almost all died in moments of profound betrayal. Every one of them murdered by their best friend... my husband.
So all these individuals (still "only" hopes and expectations, of course) died. Muerto. At one point, a nondescript morning back in November 2011, I think, I realized that the morgue was plump fulled up. I also realized that I was depressed.
Now, I know depressed because I've been around some LONG "blocks" of it before, if you know what I mean. (You know, like someone might say, "I've been around the block a time or two." You know. Right?) Anyway... I've experienced hormonal depression, PPD (some might argue this is hormonal, but in my experience it was so much more extreme that I label it seperately), and situational depression. I do not enjoy being depressed. I'm definitely no Bella of Twilight fame. Would that my man had only the problem of being among the walking dead, needing to suck blood to live, and being too handsome for life. Hmmm... maybe he is in a way.... among the walking dead, I mean. :) I'll have to investigate that train of though in the future!
Back to the depressed thing: I don't like being depressed. Realizing that I definitely WAS depressed was really freaking depressing! See, in the past, it's taken as long as MANY months (read: a year and more) for me to kick my butt OUT of depression and that's just the time it took to get OUT... not including the time I was in the hole... abyss... at the bottom of a cliff in a broken mess... you know, already depressed and just didn't realize the problem. So, when I realized (that morning in November) that I was depressed, I felt myself grasping at strings by which to pull my far too fluffy self out of the dark.
Then this idea came to me to share my brokenness in all its... BROKE-ness. That felt promising. My mind and heart grasped the idea... no mere string... and toyed with it to determine how to use it to best advantage. For some reason... oh, yeah... it's because I actually feel like a monster as a result of the reason for the despairing sorrow I felt that morning; so I was thinking of monsters and trying to imagine one that felt appropriate. Frankenstein popped into my head and it felt like a perfect fit... with a slight change and some additions, of course. Thus: FrankenMonster Marriage was born; amid the dead bodies in the morgue of my mind.
The morgue full, I realized I simply must figure out what (if anything) I might salvage from all that dead material to fashion something new.
This is my place to purge... to think... to share and hopefully hear from others in similar circumstances. This is where I'm going to try to think stuff through, write some poetry (cause that form of writing just lends itself to emoting, at least it does for me), and hopefully all of it will make it easier for me to choose happiness each day. I'm going to try to figure out what can be used from those bods in the morgue to form this FrankenMonster of a Marriage and then toss the rest. I'm going to do all that only here. No one else need know I have a monster of a marriage... or that I feel like a Monster Girl....
I'm gunna try to write each Monday. Yes, I do actually know today is not Monday. I'm not saying I'm ONLY going to write on Monday. Sheesh. ;) I'm just sayin' I'm gunna try real hard to write each Monday, at the very least.
One last thing before I close for today: If you know who I am, or think you do, please do NOT tell anyone. If you think you know who I am, feel free to write to ask me if you want to know for sure. I will be honest. Even here where I'm trying to be a bit circumspect, I'm being almost completely honest both in comission and omission kinds of being honest or lying. Regardless, please don't tell anyone who I am whether you think you know or you do know for sure who I am in the real world. K? Thanks bunches!!
I decided to open this blog totally anonymously so that I might feel free to really get into the nitty-gritty of dealing with my FrankenMonster of a Marriage. The idea for this blog came to me after a good hard fit of crying, sobbing the ugly cry, after yet another painful interaction with my husband.
After deciding to write here anonymously, I also decided to do it sort of secretly. By that I do NOT mean a horrible "secret," but really the kind of sweet secret you get to hold between the time you find out you're preggie and when you tell your hubbie...and then the time between holding that sweet secret together and tell the world. THAT kind of secret. ^_^ Only this time, I rather think "gestation" may be the duration of my life. Hopefully what's left of it is LOTs and lots... so, we have time to become good friends... sort of... in an anonymous sort of way (on my side, at least)... here in internet land.
So, why FrankenMonster Marriage? Well, I don't know if this is just me being weird... I don't know if anyone else out there has had feelings like the ones I've had and I'm going to share... ... ...but if YOU get it... I hope you'll comment so I might have the chance to feel not quite so alone. That would be so super truly awesome!
I guess a long time ago I had these hopes. Expectations too. Most of them (I honestly think ALL of them, but I'll say most just to be safe) were born of words from my Love's mouth. So, I liken those hopes and expectations to living breathing human beings. They have slowly died of various maladies over the years. Most, though, have died as a result of a knife in the back in the form of lies revealed. They almost all died in moments of profound betrayal. Every one of them murdered by their best friend... my husband.
So all these individuals (still "only" hopes and expectations, of course) died. Muerto. At one point, a nondescript morning back in November 2011, I think, I realized that the morgue was plump fulled up. I also realized that I was depressed.
Now, I know depressed because I've been around some LONG "blocks" of it before, if you know what I mean. (You know, like someone might say, "I've been around the block a time or two." You know. Right?) Anyway... I've experienced hormonal depression, PPD (some might argue this is hormonal, but in my experience it was so much more extreme that I label it seperately), and situational depression. I do not enjoy being depressed. I'm definitely no Bella of Twilight fame. Would that my man had only the problem of being among the walking dead, needing to suck blood to live, and being too handsome for life. Hmmm... maybe he is in a way.... among the walking dead, I mean. :) I'll have to investigate that train of though in the future!
Back to the depressed thing: I don't like being depressed. Realizing that I definitely WAS depressed was really freaking depressing! See, in the past, it's taken as long as MANY months (read: a year and more) for me to kick my butt OUT of depression and that's just the time it took to get OUT... not including the time I was in the hole... abyss... at the bottom of a cliff in a broken mess... you know, already depressed and just didn't realize the problem. So, when I realized (that morning in November) that I was depressed, I felt myself grasping at strings by which to pull my far too fluffy self out of the dark.
Then this idea came to me to share my brokenness in all its... BROKE-ness. That felt promising. My mind and heart grasped the idea... no mere string... and toyed with it to determine how to use it to best advantage. For some reason... oh, yeah... it's because I actually feel like a monster as a result of the reason for the despairing sorrow I felt that morning; so I was thinking of monsters and trying to imagine one that felt appropriate. Frankenstein popped into my head and it felt like a perfect fit... with a slight change and some additions, of course. Thus: FrankenMonster Marriage was born; amid the dead bodies in the morgue of my mind.
The morgue full, I realized I simply must figure out what (if anything) I might salvage from all that dead material to fashion something new.
This is my place to purge... to think... to share and hopefully hear from others in similar circumstances. This is where I'm going to try to think stuff through, write some poetry (cause that form of writing just lends itself to emoting, at least it does for me), and hopefully all of it will make it easier for me to choose happiness each day. I'm going to try to figure out what can be used from those bods in the morgue to form this FrankenMonster of a Marriage and then toss the rest. I'm going to do all that only here. No one else need know I have a monster of a marriage... or that I feel like a Monster Girl....
I'm gunna try to write each Monday. Yes, I do actually know today is not Monday. I'm not saying I'm ONLY going to write on Monday. Sheesh. ;) I'm just sayin' I'm gunna try real hard to write each Monday, at the very least.
One last thing before I close for today: If you know who I am, or think you do, please do NOT tell anyone. If you think you know who I am, feel free to write to ask me if you want to know for sure. I will be honest. Even here where I'm trying to be a bit circumspect, I'm being almost completely honest both in comission and omission kinds of being honest or lying. Regardless, please don't tell anyone who I am whether you think you know or you do know for sure who I am in the real world. K? Thanks bunches!!
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