love

darnold1975

The Burglar That Wasn’t

“To make mistakes is human; to stumble is commonplace. To be able to laugh at yourself is maturity.”

-William Arthur Ward

Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy goes away. Okie dokie! Today I want to tell you about one of my follies. I began many years ago working for a local veterinarian. Ok, it was a long time ago. I wasn’t surprised because my love and very strong connection with animals just led me in that direction. Then the opportunity presented itself so that I could house sit people’s pets while they were away. I have taken care of dogs, cats, frogs, pigs and others that at one time or another had their own follies. This was one of those times.

I was housesitting a little, old poodle named Abby. This old girl is spicy in her own way. She is so sassy, in fact, that when her owners are gone she DEMANDS that I give her multiple treats every time I go see her. While I enjoy spending time with her, we have our own schedule for how we do things. I go to her house and open the door and start looking for her. Being an aged girl, sometimes she doesn’t hear me walk in. I frantically begin looking for her when I don’t see her because in my mind I’m looking for a body. She is in great health to be so old. But the thought that nature will act when I least expect it is one of my greatest fears. I couldn’t find her initially. But I soon find her lying in her cozy bed sound asleep. So, I gently start petting her and startled when she awakens with the look of, “How did you get in here without me knowing?” I always act excited to see her so that she knows that everything is ok on my end of the relationship. However, this particular night had much more in store for me than I bargained for.

I take her outside as usual for her night time potty session. Before I lock up for the night I always make sure that she has food and water available in both areas of the house that have been designated in advance. I walk to the back of the house and enter a back bedroom. What I saw horrified me. There is a purse that has been knocked to the ground and everything strewn from within including lipstick. Naturally, I think, “Oh no! Someone has gotten into the house and robbed Jojo and Poppy!” I look around the room and notice that a family picture has been knocked off the wall and I think, “I have watched many hours of true crime shows and know that these signs are because of something personal.” Then I get really scared. I make a mental note and then begin constructing a plan for how I would reach safety. I can’t scream or make any loud noises because if the criminal was still in the house I could get murdered. I know. My past trauma has led to this moment.

I quickly walk back through the house with my eye on the front door. I also pay very close attention when moving past other doorways while keeping an eye out for intruders. I have a feeling that this night could be my last. I finally make it to the front door and out I go. I don’t know why I didn’t think of Abby at this moment. Apparently, though, I must’ve thought everyone for himself. I make it to the middle of the driveway and call my daddy who lives directly across the street. With a shaking voice and body I tell him, “Jojo and Poppy’s house has been robbed.”  I explained what I had seen and he said he would come over and check things himself. When he makes it to where I’m standing I begin telling the story all over again. As you can imagine, I was very animated.

We walked back into the house together. I am thinking, “Now both me and my daddy are going to die!” I followed him while telling him, “Daddy be careful they could still be in here.” We finally made it to the back bedroom and I showed him exactly what I had seen. He began to look things over and we saw a pack of saltine crackers in one of the recliners that had been absolutely demolished. I said, “Crap! The intruder needed a snack!” So, now I’m positive that the criminal is well nourished and ready to kill. He walks over to where a picture in a frame laid face down on the floor. I said to him, “See that’s what I was telling you.” He bent down to pick it up and he said, “Dana, this is a scale for someone to weigh on.” My eyesight has failed me on numerous occasions. And apparently this was another time. He looked through Jojo’s purse and the scene before us and said, “I bet that dog got those crackers out of her purse and then dragged them over to the recliner where she had her little snack.” I called Jojo reluctantly and explained the situation to which she had a good laugh. She said, “Yea, Abby is probably mad that we’ve been gone too long.” It turns out that that was, in fact, what had happened. There was no boogerman that needed a snack that night. Only a sassy little poodle who thought, “My momma and daddy have been gone too long so, I will eat her leftover crackers in her purse while I drag everything else out. And I’ll set up the whole situation so that Dana will think that she is about to get murdered.”

I tell you this comical story to let you know that it’s ok to laugh at yourself. Life happens sometimes in the most comical of ways. Abby is doing fine and is still demanding multiple treats each time I go to check on her. And that little spicy old lady continues to bless my life each and every time our eyes meet.

“If you can laugh at yourself, you are going to be fine. If you allow others to laugh with you, you will be great.”

-Martin Niemoller

#Thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

Bang! They Shot Me!

“It’s all fun and games until someone takes a dart to the eye.”

-Unknown

Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. As spring begins to make its mark, I start looking forward to having the cubs come spend some time with me during their spring break. The cold nights are beginning to fade. The hummingbirds start scouting for feeders. And many people take this time to rekindle their relationships with the flowers and gardening.

For many of us winter time leaves us with the attitude of blahhhhhh. It certainly does for me. I enjoy leaving my door open and circulating the fresh cool air. Tink and Coco enjoy both the air and watching the bugs and birds of the season. And the boys enjoy going outside down to the creek and playing with water guns. But what never seems to have a particular season are nerf gun wars. And they show no mercy for their friends and family.

Copeland has a place in my little habitat where he takes his mattress and drags it to the top of wooden shelving about 8 feet off the ground and covered by a curtain where he can enjoy some quiet time away from me and big brother, Marshall. This area has become affectionately known as the “Eagle’s Nest.” He normally has a nerf gun close at hand along with his tablet. Marshall usually has his gaming headphones or talking to online friends. And I’m diamond painting or planning things to do while keeping my ears and eyes open taking it all in.

Everything seems to be going good until Copeland fires a random shot at me from behind the curtain nailing me directly in the eyebrow with a nerf gun bullet. I let out a loud, “Ow!” He laughs hysterically which seems to trigger Marshall’s curiosity. Now they both need and want to be a part of the action. I love my boys dearly. However, at this point, they care nothing about their mom or other bystanders’ need for safety. Those foamed bullets with plastic tips began flying from the barrels of various guns striking me in every area of my body. Nerf Gun War: Game On!

They have gathered every bit of the ammo with the exception of maybe five bullets that are given to me. I have absolutely no protective cover. And they have an entire curtain. And I have been forced to try and pick up the landed bullets while still being shot with perfect aim. They can’t seem to aim clothes perfectly in the clothes basket. Nor can they aim their trash into a garbage can. However, they seem to aim perfectly with nerf guns that can have military snipers shaking in their boots.y

I began to tell myself, “Their childish giggling will make it all worth it.”  Soon, though, my entire body is covered in red dots complimentary of hundreds landing shots on my now painful body. I search frantically for cover. Sometimes it’s a roll of toilet paper, towel, blanket or a garbage can. Anything that I can successfully reach, in the moment, becomes a form of cover. And then…I ran out of ammo. I think to myself, “Why didn’t we use protection?!” 

I call, “Time Out! I’m out of ammo!” They say, “Ok! Cease fire! Momma needs to get bullets!” I gingerly drop my cover and observe my wounds not knowing if I’m really alive. My eyebrows are now swollen. And the only feeling that I can identify is OUCH! I begin to hear whispers  and giggles among the offenders. I look up and Pow! I take another one directly to the middle of my forehead. They break out into total sugar drunken laughter while saying, “We love you, momma!” And I reply, “Stop lying! No you don’t! You just shot me in my nipple!” This makes the entire situation that much funnier to them. I say in my loudest and desperate voice, “I wish you would just eat a large clown turd!” And they continue to laugh hysterically.

As I frantically gather bullets near me and fling them in their general direction, they land a barrage of bullets again, completely crushing my self-confidence in my ability to win as if that was even a remote possibility. I hurriedly run into the middle of the floor gathering more bullets and I take one directly in the butt crack. “Ow!” I painfully scream. 

I take my gathered stash that fills the clip that I now have secured in my half working gun. I see my moment while they are making battle plans to get in a cheap shot like the many that my body now shows its evidence. I fire away only for my bullet to land about five feet from my position. They don’t even seem to notice. I fired several more times with the same ferocity. I still don’t even get close to landing a shot. I shout loudly, “This piece of crap gun with no boom!” And my youngest son Copeland laughs harder. I take my remaining bullets and realize my now harsh reality. I have to throw my bullets. They have sabotaged my ability to win this war.

The mayhem eventually dies down. Copeland and whoever else attempting to kill me climbs down out of the “Eagle’s nest” to come look at my battle wounds. They are still laughing and I have a bruised fingernail, swollen elbows, a pulled hamstring, inflamed eyelashes, diminished hearing in my right ear, a runny nose brought on by a direct shot, a burning belly button, red dots up and down my shins, an itchy armpit and farts that sound like a suffering animal needing euthanasia. These wounds I did not have prior to Camp Frat Pad WWIII. 

These moments while painful I wouldn’t trade for one minute. I am able to relive my childhood vicariously through my children with some Advil and an ice pack. And for them, it’s just another fun time with momma where we are making memories while they enjoy being kids. To them, it’s not about whether or not I’m gay or straight. Or how much money I have or don’t have. I’m just momma. And I can do nothing but smile. Later, I would cuddle with my “non-expanding recreational foam experts.”

“All is fair in love and Nerf war.”

-Unknown

***Don’t forget to watch the video! Copeland chose the song for this blog.***

#Thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

“My Sarah, My Friend”

“Death leaves a heartache no one can heal,love leaves a memory no one can steal.”

-Unknown

Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Today marks the 10th anniversary since Sarah died. Recently, I have done some work in therapy about her loss.  What I’ve learned is how traumatic events never seem to lose their power. While it’s always been very upsetting to me to live without her. Re-experiencing those moments with the full force of emotions is decapitating my soul. And I truthfully, had no idea that I carried that much emotional exhaustion.  

I have been asked before “why do you refer to her as like a God?” To me Sarah wasn’t just a friend. She was so many things to me. But most of all she was my hero. I sought her guidance as a struggling alcoholic/drug addict. But years later and the respect for a seemingly genuine woman progressed to a relationship where I experienced unconditional love and acceptance for no other reason than because I existed. I just needed someone who cared on all levels. And it was her.

I hungered for the peace that she seemed to carry around in her soul. I watched her from all angles and she was the most authentic person I had ever seen. And I was very intrigued. She was the same no matter where she went. Our very close relationship was like a “maternal mentor.” I wanted to learn everything I possibly could about her “road to peace and serenity.” There was a mutual space that we held for each other with the utmost respect. She was my “safe person.” 

We spent many hours talking about life and the broken roads we had both taken. And I saw how she had risen. And how I was barely breathing. Over the years she became my “Mr. Miyagi” and my “Yoda.” Every Time I was around her I learned another lesson about life. And it was exactly what I needed. And I flourished. I had begun to rebuild my shattered self-confidence, self-worth, self image and the idea that I was entitled to love, happiness and belongingness just like everyone else. 

I continued to struggle with addiction for a while. And Oh the boundaries. Anyone that knew her also knew that she was a boundary setting “queen.” Boundaries were placed before me many, many times. That was just something else that she taught me. 

It wasn’t “rules” coming from an authority figure with her. It was simply teaching me about boundaries and standing up when they are tested. And she also taught me about our own boundaries and why we deserve for them to be respected. I realized that my way of thinking was courtesy of generational patterns of insanity. She praised individuality, autonomy and authenticity.

I began to notice that I was changing.  My thinking, heart, conscience, was all changing for the better.  I needed the stability of someone who was loving and consistent. And I’m sorry but there are just not that many people like that who possess both qualities. And I thanked God everyday for the blessings I received that allowed me to be open enough to experience “love” for the first time since stepping onto the gravel of my broken road.  

I had, once again,  found that passion for life and the ability to succeed which was lost for many years. I began excelling as a student. And I realized that I was not too dumb to learn. And about the symbolism of the Phoenix in Greek Mythology. The symbol of the camel in 12-step recovery. And about living life on life’s terms. And about her walk with Jesus. And how life is about acceptance even if it’s not the hand that you wanted dealt. The woman I speak of I would’ve laid down my life for. And I still will at the speaking of her name.  

And when she died, I’ve been unable to move past my grief.  Instead I burned every bridge that I could. And I found dreams and ambitions in the safe confine of isolation slowly withering away. I guess over the years I never saw having to live life without her or her guidance.  But here we are. And her absence is more than I can bear.

I exist but I no longer live. I keep chasing the monster that keeps chasing me. Again I am the shell of who I used to be. Shouldn’t her memory and advice propel me past that? Shouldn’t living a life that I know would please her give me the energy to help me carry on?  Maybe. But my heart feels none of that. I am paralyzed by fear, grief, loneliness, sadness and debilitating depression. But I do have my memories. I guess sometimes, though, the wounds are just too great. 

“The absence of your loved one will lead to a profound wound of their loss that will never completely mend. But they will forever reside in your heart and will remain partially broken.”

-Unknown

***Don’t forget to watch the video at the end!!!***

#Thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

Dear Anxiety

Dear Anxiety Lyrics

I wake up, puddle of sweat
I have nightmares, and I get back into bed
It’s like these voices just keep playing on repeat in the back of my head
And I can’t get them to leave me alone
Thirty-years old but still hates being alone when I’m home
Because that’s when the voices get the loudest
Opening up like this is a moment far from my proudest
But these demons keep pressin’ me, I swear they’re the foulest
But I’ve grown comfortable with their presence, my conscious is calloused
My dreams are their playground, my thoughts are their palace
I tried to evict them, they returned with more
Anxiety isn’t an item you can return at the store
I was 10 the first time I had a panic attack
Like a punch to the stomach, there’s no planning for that
And I didn’t tell anyone because I was too scared about what they’d say
And I knew deep down that there was nothing they could do to take it away
It was my fight to fight and my battle to face
I remember that house I grew up in and how those demons would rattle that place
I’d lay awake at night just staring at the ceiling
I’ve spent my whole life trying to run from that feeling
That feeling of being lonely, that feeling of being lost
That feeling of being sick when the lights turn off
That feeling of being depressed, that feeling of being anxious
That feeling of screaming to God begging Him to take this
Only to get silence in return
I’d lay in that bed crying, and I’d toss and I’d turn
And I turn and I toss to this day
The doctors gave me medication, the pastor said pray
I tried both, and this anxiety still hasn’t gone away
So forgive me if I fantasize about being gone today
I’m an actor who got really good at being on today
But when I turn off, I go right back into the shadows
I’m in the deep-end now, but I started in the shallows
And I might just drown myself in these waves
Suburbian hell, these homes are all graves
Everyone’s coping with something but won’t admit it, they’re all too afraid
And these kids are glued to watching me, what do I say?
If I’m honest with them, maybe they won’t think highly of me
Everything they want me to be is what I’m dying to be
But everything I really am is what I’m not trying to be
I want them to know that they’re not alone in their struggles
I wake up in tears and fall back asleep in those puddles
And I don’t ever think I’ll get out of this valley I’m in
Terrified that all along God has tallied my sins
And if He has, the number must be astronomic
My life is a joke, and you keep reading, just pass the comic
Because everything you think that I am is far from the truth
I wish I could open up to you and just let loose
But my vocal cords get tight when the Devil pulls on this noose
And then I’m back to keeping everything bottled up inside
But he’s not gonna keep me from pulling the throttle back this time
He’s not gonna keep me trapped like this
I can’t get out of bed, I was never made to act like this
I’m packing up my bags, and he can’t stop me from running fast like this
I’m not gonna be a slave to these voices of anxiety
I’m shoving the Devil back for every time that he lied to me
And I’m taking a belt to these demons who whisper despair in my ear
And I’m ignoring every naysayer who stands and stares when I’m near
I’m moving forward out of this slump
I took my bruises, I took my lumps
I fell down, but I got right back up
So give me a torch, and let’s light that up
I’m setting fire to the Devil, and I’m dousing these demons in gasoline
Look at you now, now you’re not laughing at me
Now who’s the one who’s being tortured and punked?
Now who’s the one closing every door that I want?
Now who’s the one watching the other burn the ground?
Don’t look away from me, you better turn back around
I’m not done talking to you now
I’m watching your moves
I’m on your back, and I’m stalking you, too
And when you try to ruin some other kid’s life, I’ll be stoppin’ you, too
You took thirty years of my life, and I can’t get that back
You told me to end my life, and I nearly got killed for that
You took me down, but I bounced right back
I was lost then, and I got found like that
And everything you told me I wasn’t someone new told me I was
And everything you hated in me someone new told me He loves
And when you tried to kill me with depression and anxiety
He reached in and placed hope deep inside of me
So I’m done listening to you and letting you control me
I’m announcing it now that the Devil can’t hold me
I’m walking away from the old me
And I’m demanding a refund on every lie that you sold me
You knew I’d find a way out sooner or later
And I found my escape in the form of a Savior.

***I’m not there yet but I want to be.***

***Don’t forget to watch the video***

#Thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

The Funny Reasons Kids Cry

“A 3 year-old is basically a walking, talking middle finger.”

-Amy Dillion

Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. I needed to switch gears just a bit from the trauma work. So, what is something that’s lighthearted and comical about our lives? The answer…PARENTING. It doesn’t matter if you’re straight, gay, trans, purple, white, black or any other category. If you have children they will all do things like this as they grow.

It is the most complex job that I’ve ever had. There are as many frustrations as there are hysterical moments. We as parents love our children dearly. There are also those times especially toddler meltdowns that can have me in the room over in a corner  while in the fetal position and biting my arm.  A momma hamster would’ve eaten said screaming child.

Due to my trauma, I cannot tolerate the cries of babies and children. Asking them to stop is apparently the equivalent of asking them to stop breathing. Needless to say, I am so thankful that the boys are out of those stages. However, the uncharted waters of puberty are now upon me. They still aren’t always sure what bothers them but they just hiss at everything. And all I can say at this point is that “if God wants to get me back for the way I was as a teenager, it’s going to be a hell of a ride.” Here is a video of some of the funniest kids meltdowns.

Any parent from anywhere in a public setting understands the familiar cries. That  moment when you think to yourself, “Yep, it’s nap time for that kid.” When Marshall was little and Mel and I went to Walmart, we headed straight to the dog beds where we would get a comfy looking one and put it in the cart.  We would give Marshall his bottle and pray for a miracle. It might not have lasted forever but it was so nice.  And then inevitably a loud sound or the screeching of a kid’s tantrum would wake him up.  How many times did I want to go up to a parent and say, “I hope you can’t find your kids binkies  the next time they want one. And when you try to go to the store to get new ones they are all sold out.  And then it’s “No Binkie Night” at your house!” Check out some of these funny pictures of children losing their minds over the simplest things.

Marshall was very young and we were getting ready for church.  On the way to the car he spotted his little swimming pool and made a beeline to it.  I stopped him just shy of soaking his entire outfit and shoes.  You would’ve thought that I had just removed all the air from his life.  We had to go through the five stages of grief and loss. And the crocodile tears made me feel like a horrible parent because I just made the additional liquid in his eyes appear. We all made it through that moment and Marshall just turned 13. And now I’m beginning to see, at 49 years old, that my parents were not crazy when I was younger. I made them that way.

I hope that you could have a few laughs as I have. Enjoy the ride of parenting.  Our little guys are so worth it all. And so are all of you!

“The average toddler expends 6,500 calories per day. Consumes 1.5 bites of food per meal, and grows 3 pajama sizes per night.”

-Unknown

***Don’t forget to watch the video.***

#Thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

2024 Highlights From Camp Frat Pad

“Many years ago, I made a New Year’s resolution  to never make New Year’s resolutions. Hell, it’s been the only resolution I’ve ever kept.”

–D.S Mixell

As the world wraps up another year of living, I thought that I would try to recap some of our most memorable moments here at Camp Frat Pad. There has been much laughter, tears with our friends that double as family.  We have all grown individually and as a group in our relationships with each other. But it’s how we walk through our daily lives attempting to “live life on life’s terms” that continues to make Camp Frat Pad such a special place. Camp Frat Pad is not a place. It’s a total experience. You want unconditional love that you might be lacking elsewhere? We are all here to support you. Hate has no room here.  We are a small group of people where we practice inclusion, love and a place to call home when others can’t handle our differences. Camp Frat Pad is a place where both kids and adults are free to be whoever and whatever they want to be judgment free. No matter what color flag you wave or what limitations you may have, there is always a place for anyone who needs or wants acceptance, support and laughter that will propel you into the next 24 hours of life.  Enjoy some of our moments from 2024 as we send a lighthearted middle finger goodbye to whatever type of year that we’ve all had.

  • Marshall puked when we played the Jelly Belly Beanboozled game
  • Copeland decided to try and learn how to make primitive weapons so that he could be a survivalist. His survival pack consisted of a pack of crackers, a piece of gum and a juice box which he devoured 30 ft into the woods.
  • I slipped and fell in some mud down by the creek. All I could do was look at Shelby like, “Did that just really happen? And am I still alive?” Shelby was absolutely no help. She and the kids just laughed hysterically. Each time I tried  to stand up I fell back down again making the whole situation that much funnier. Definitely, one of the funniest moments of the year!
  • The boys accidentally on purpose got their shoes soaked when they needed to walk in the creek water.
  • Robyn tripped going upstairs AGAIN! Shocker!
  • Robyn and the family were gone on a cruise. I took care of her pet pigs “pork chop” and “bacon.” I am completely dumb when it comes to pig behavior. They let out a big snort and I screamed because I thought that they had just tried to kill me. I could’ve died and she laughed at the story.
  • Mikey set the woods on fire by trying to be proactive.
  • Out of the corner of my eye I saw a water hose under Robyn’s carport that I apparently thought was a cobra in the striking position. I could’ve died and she just laughed!
  • Mikey got a new keychain flashlight that helps determine meteorological outcomes.
  • Shelby was sick the entire year! Literally.
  • I was nearly killed in a barrage of nerf gun fire. Injuries included swollen eyebrows, a bruised nipple and multiple red dot tattoos.
  • Copeland’s frustration with his brother’s “mean puberty” behaviors are either violent or hysterical. 
  • Mason contracted “Movid.”
  • Copeland and Marshall farted so much that Tink and Coco started losing vision in their eyes.
  • Mason is the fart and burp monitor that demands an immediate “EXCUSE ME!”
  • Copeland decided that when he grows up that he wants to commit arson because he loves shooting fireworks. We had an immediate discussion about the difference between arson and a pyro. Basically, one is a felony.
  • Mikey can listen to a podcast, load the dishwasher and cook brownies best when it’s midnight and everyone else is trying to sleep.
  • We all concluded that the boys would starve if they ever wanted to be male strippers for a living.
  • I almost got rabies from Robyn’s dog Bella. I gave her the name “Devil Dog” which she wears with pride. Now, at the end of the year, she loves to get in my lap from time-to-time for cuddles. And so does the rest of the “canine assassin crew.”
  • Mason is very mean when he gets hungry. It goes way beyond hangry.
  • Coco and Tink are two of my best friends.
  • Cannabis is still the best medicine on the planet.
  • I am now free from psych meds. Thank you, cannabis!
  • Baby “Prince” is the most beautiful and high maintenance little schnauzer. He is the newest member of Camp Frat Pad.
  • Experiencing the kids’ puberty makes me want to go into the woods and let the animals eat me.
  • Mason has gone from a little kid to 7’2” in less than a year. He outgrows clothes every month.
  • I broke the wooden adirondack chair flamboyantly!
  • Ellie is now legal. Happy Birthday!
  • When the boys come to my house for a visit they have appetites like starving feral dogs. Even when they’ve just eaten.
  • The boys set off the smoke alarm with the fart blaster gun.
  • “Momma, do Tink and Coco have New Year’s “revolutions?” “Only around the food bowl and snack drawer, son.”

As we go into the new year, I wish everyone to be healthy and happy. Laugh as much as possible. It will get you through many difficult moments. Keep those you love close because life can change permanently in a moment. And tell them that you love them often. Allow your kids to enjoy their childhood without unrealistic constraints and expectations. Allow them to play and enjoy life before it gets difficult. It will disappear before you realize. Be the reason other people smile.  DO NOT allow other people’s opinions to determine your self-worth. Just because they don’t see it doesn’t mean that it’s not there. Boundaries foster growth. Stand in your truth even when it’s difficult or unpopular. Because one day you will look up and you will have that backbone that you’ve always needed. And finally, DO NOT remain silent just because it makes others uncomfortable. Embrace diversity!

Happy New Year From All Of Us At Camp Frat Pad!

#Thispuzzledlife

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darnold1975

Nobody But Me Part 2

“To become authentic we require a thirst for freedom.”

-Don Mateo Sol

Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. I love the smell of burning sage. Mentally it somehow provides a bubble that no one’s negativity can penetrate. Even if only for a moment.

I have been shamed by many entities, friends and family for being a lesbian. I have two superhero children that came out of that relationship with their other mom. And my children have also had that held against them as well. Was that selfish of us to bring children into the world knowing that? No. I believe that God saw that we had two children that were absolutely perfect for the situation. We brought those children into the world loving them and wanting to be parents. We have always told them that families look differently with race and gender differences. And is in no way right or wrong. It just is. I’ve also been asked, “Well, what if they come out as bisexual, gay or heaven forbid in a relationship with another race?” My response has always been, “Then what a great and very diverse family they will have to be a part of.” I have told my boys from the beginning, “I will never hold against you who you love. If you can find someone who truly loves you for who you are and respects you, go for it! I will have a problem if they are abusive buttholes.”


I lost my sanity trying to be what others told me that I should be. And being a part of the LGBTQ+ community oftentimes we are “forced” to make a family outside of our families of origin. Not as a choice but as a necessity. Me and my children have always been seen as less than. We have not been included or have been treated as “sloppy seconds” because of who I loved. And how they were conceived because personal beliefs on the topic.


I have watched people through the presidential election and the horrible crimes of P. Diddy destroy relationships. One thing I’ve learned is that I’m not going to agree with you and you will not agree with me. So, what’s the point of arguing just for the sake of arguing? However, what I have made abundantly clear is that if you see something done that’s illegal or wrong and don’t speak out, then you’re just as guilty. I have learned some very difficult lessons about being scared into silence. My life has been largely influenced by narcissists. And the only title that fits perfectly is “emotional vampires” and “masters of deception.” The narcissist that I was enslaved by always called himself “a local celebrity.” To put it very bluntly, these kind of people are very scary. And cause colossal damage to their victims.

It doesn’t matter if you’re from a small town, politician or celebrity. Wrong is wrong. I can spot a narcissist a mile away. And there is no place in a society that harbors these type of criminals that often operate in the shadows. Just because you don’t see them in this role, doesn’t mean that it doesn’t happen. They are more concerned with their image than your well-being. If you’re operating openly then I have even less respect for those individuals. That just tells me that you’re even more dangerous. The commonality between narcissists is the fact that their egos are much bigger and stands out from others. They feel that they are untouchable. And they also believe that money, popularity, fame and scare tactics keep them safe from others that oppose their stance. They are the “god” of their own universe. I have also had family members that are narcissists. Most don’t change because they don’t see themselves as doing anything wrong. The ones that do change only do so because of “scared straight” tactics. And the only thing you can do is keep your emotional distance.

The abuse, for me, only got worse when the doors were closed. If this doesn’t fit your opinions, then take what you can use and leave the rest. It’s the beauty of living in a “free society.” I speak only MY truth. And pain changes people. I’m not here to coddle anyone’s delicate feelings.


When I was a child, a teacher was allowed to unmercifully abuse me. Yes “ALLOWED!” I spoke with school administrators 20+ years later only to be told that they knew the abuse was going on but they couldn’t do anything about it. Let that sink in for a minute. They knew that a child was being abused and did nothing about it. I fought adults on my own. Not one adult stepped forward and said, “This is wrong! She’s a child and you’re committing crimes!” GUITY! GUILTY! GUILTY!


Granted the science about childhood trauma and its effects on adulthood functionality was in its infancy at the time. Unfortunately, I am only one of millions of adult children who now know the harsh realities of just how deeply abuse can effect someone. In this day and age, ignorance can no longer be used as an excuse. Science is everywhere. And so is the research and studied outcomes of how negatively shaming affects a person’s entire being.

I don’t try and paint life and this world as a beautiful oasis where nothing goes wrong. I don’t tell my kids many specifics about my trauma history. But make no mistake they know who “the mean man” is. And they know about that mean teacher that locked me in a closet. They also know, see and experience what it’s like to watch their mom struggle from the consequences of abuse. And also what can happen to another person when we don’t find a way to heal our own wounds. And if that makes me a bad parent because they are prepared for the difficulties of life, then so be it. I used to have a real complex about having a mental illness that is trauma induced. But then I realized that what I saw when I looked the eyes of my children was that I was raising advocates.


As a parent, my job is to protect my children as much as I possibly can. That does not mean smothering them with my own personal beliefs. We are to teach them how to think. Not what to think. Teach them how to make educated decisions. And sometimes allowing them that freedom is very difficult knowing that there is a great potential for growing pains. We learn through our mistakes or we don’t.


I allow my children to make their own decisions within reason. I tell them, “Here are your choices. Whatever your decision is comes with either positive or negative consequences. Make your decision.” When they come to Camp Frat Pad I tell them both, “If you want to stay up all night that’s fine. But, if you’re a butthole tomorrow you will get in trouble.” Both boys go to bed at a decent hour most of the time. I also allow them to have the freedom to dress and cut or not cut their hair anyway they want. All in an effort to assert their individuality.


That’s a dream that I wished I had been allowed to live. My individuality always seemed to have some type of constraints. I’m not the kind of person that conforms to social “norms.” I am very ok with who I am. And the more you try to force your hand and make me conform, the more I rebel. I will also not be a part of sitting idly by and watching my children be treated differently because they come from a minority family. How can I expect them to stand up for other individuals’s differences if I don’t stand up for them? I have watched many people claim that they’re one way. Then tuck tail and run when it comes to the statement that is not popular among others in their peer group. I’ve watched that many times. And those people will not admit to any wrong doing. They just want only you to change. I don’t need to change that part of me. I have no problem being gay.

I will not ever silence MY truth because of someone else’s uncomfortability ever again. My children are watching me to see if I am who I say I am. And that I am. Nothing more, nothing less. And I make absolutely no apologies for being authentic. Because I can’t be nobody but me!


“If you want to know where to find your contribution to the world, look at your wounds. When you learn how to heal them, teach others.”

-Emily Maroutian

***”Don’t forget to watch the video!***

#Thispuzzledlife

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darnold1975

Nobody But Me Part 1


“To be nobody but yourself in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make everybody else-means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting; and never stop fighting. Stay true to yourself, yet always be open to learning.”
-E.E. Cummings, A Poet’s Advice to Students


Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away! Ok that feels much better. This is a blog that I’ve been wanting to write for some time. For the last couple of months, I have been in a depression that has been absolutely debilitating. Maybe it’s been due to the stress of recent surgeries. Or maybe it’s been a combination of that and coming off all of my psych meds. Yes, you heard that correctly. I am now off of my meds and the mood swing has snapped! Run! Right or wrong. I took myself off in a rather drastic way. When I get an idea in my head that I’m going to do something, write it down. It will get done. Now I don’t advise coming off psych meds all at once. However, I wanted it done immediately. So, I put myself through absolute hell. I was so sick physically that coming off heroin would’ve been easier. Nevertheless, It’s finally over. And things mentally and physically have come alive again. And I do mean everything.


I remember looking at myself in a mirror saying, “Well hey you! Where have you been?” I don’t have any problems with the idea of antidepressants or any other type of psychiatric meds. For me, though, I was tired of taking them and constantly having to worry about copays to community mental health providers that I truly didn’t have the extra money to afford. I have also been on the state’s cannabis program for a couple of years with the goal of one day coming off those other meds. I’m just too impatient to go through the slow process of convincing professionals to continue tapering. And being that I’m a “street pharmacist”, I just decided to do it myself. I still struggle with severe insomnia that has somewhat plateaued at the moment. My cannabis spreadsheet is finally complete! Which means that I now tailor my “green meds” to what I need. Instead of also having to factor in traditional meds and their side effects. This might not work for everyone. So, do you boo-boo.


What this has also done is find the backbone that I knew I once had. Antidepressants make you much more tolerant of criticisms and everyday frustrations. Now I just smoke a bowl or do a few dabs and it does the same thing instantly. One thing that I’m constantly having to adjust is medication for pain management. That, in itself, has been quite the adjustment.

Doctors, no matter the issues, are just not willing to help with pain management enough to help keep people comfortable. I didn’t say keep them high or addicted. With “Big Pharma”, though, that’s how they line their pockets.

While living in New Mexico and Texas, my lack of pain management led me straight back to the streets. And that always leads to either jails, rehabs or the grave. There’s just too much Fentanyl out there for my comfort level. I can honestly say that being on the cannabis program previously and now that my addiction issues have not reared their ugly heads in this area of my life. Trust me, when addiction wants to take me, I go seemingly very willingly. In other areas of my life I am still in the grasp of addiction. Regardless, life continues to be brutal. And parenting doesn’t get easier either. It just has new challenges.


In therapy, everything ebbs and flows. Sometimes it’s easier than others. And sometimes you seem to plateau. Recently, I have had my most painful trauma hit me at my weakest point. I was literally awake for five days and crazy as hell. I know what a fabulous time to abandon medication and its requirements. I have always taken the difficult road in life that this time was no different. Dangerous? Probably. To me, doing things safely just takes way too long. And I’m not willing to wait.


I have always been a people pleaser. I have done what others wanted regardless of what I wanted to do. I felt that I have always needed to somehow strive for perfection that could never be attained. I’ve always tried to be for others, losing the vision for who and what I’ve wanted and needed to be. I’ve attempted to be straight knowing full well that I’m not. I have dressed in ways others wanted me to. Acted in ways expected of me. I kept my hair cut in ways to only pacify others. And I lost myself in the process.


I won’t ever say that “coming out” has been an easy process. It’s very different for every person. It’s probably the most difficult process I’ve ever had to go through. And more painful than you can imagine. Think about this for a second. If you wake up in the morning as someone who is sexually “heterosexual”, imagine what you would do if someone told you, “No, you must be gay.” You can try and do your best to be gay. You might even speak the lingo. But in your heart, you have always been straight. You just can’t be gay no matter what you are told or what you are shamed for. So, one day you just stand up and say, “I don’t care what gender you think that I should be with. I’m not nor have I ever been gay!” Imagine how freeing that would feel, for once in your life, to be who you know that you are. If you can’t comprehend a scenario like this then be glad you can’t.

It’s kind of like individuals who don’t understand why the LGBTQ+ community has gay pride celebrations. How many times have I heard the comments like, “Well we(straight) don’t have “straight pride” celebrations.” The Stonewall Riots were not about having “Straight Pride.” They were about the freedom of being a member of the LGBT community without the fear of being arrested. The idea of “straight pride” is ignorant. And you will look stupid trying to argue that point. So don’t get jealous every year when June rolls around and all of the rainbows, glitter, unicorns and individual pride colors come out and the LGBTQ+ communities are beautiful and flamboyant. Be glad that you don’t have a reason to celebrate “Straight Pride.”

I “came out” in my 30’s as gay. This has presented many problems including lost relationships, shunning by family members and loss of jobs. The list goes on and on. And so do the whispers and backbiting. As scared as I was to make that step forward, I did it! And I have NEVER regretted my decision a day since. I finally stood up and proclaimed who I am! People will call you all kinds of names. It’s the ones you answer to that counts!


“Authenticity is the daily practice of letting go of who we think we’re supposed to be and embracing who we are.”
-Brene Brown

***Don’t forget to watch the video!***

#Thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

I Was Afraid Of Being Rejected Until I…

I was afraid of being rejected
Until I learned to never reject myself

I was afraid of being abandoned
Until I learned to never abandon myself

I was afraid of the opinions of others
Until I learned that they held no more weight than my own

I was afraid of painful endings
Until I realised that they were
also new beginnings

I was afraid of appearing weak
Until I realised how strong
I truly was

I was afraid of being seen as
small and unimportant
Until I discovered my
true power and potential

I was afraid of being
perceived as ugly
Until I learned to fully
appreciate my own beauty

I was afraid of failure
Until I learned that
it was an illusion
When viewed through
the eyes of love,
growth and learning

I was afraid of feeling low
Until I learned that it was
the birthplace of brilliance
And where my greatest
transformation occurred

I was afraid of change
Until I realised it was an
inevitable part of life
In a world full of things
temporary and fleeting

I was afraid of being alone
Until I learned to fully embrace
and appreciate my own company

I was afraid of my uniqueness
Until I learned that it was
where my greatness lay

I was afraid of the darkness
Until I remembered that I was the light

And I was afraid of life
Until I remembered who I was.

-Tahlia Hunter

**Don’t forget to watch the video!**

#Thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

The Teachings of a Pandemic

 

A person in public without a mask during a

 pandemic is a walking septic tank.”

 ― Abhijit Naskar.

***This is just a little nugget of gold during the pandemic that I never posted.***

Until very recently I’ve thought that my days of writing were days of long ago. I was writing one day and the next day I fell into a big dark hole of nothingness. My last blog entry on September 25, 2020, entitled Beyond the Mask is about how my life was beyond typical Halloween themes and rewritten into a language that I still wouldn’t understand. Today I sit, one year later, with the latest ideas and revelations about my ongoing therapy. And realizing how sometimes the simple reasons for a smile would once been seen as insignificant.

A pandemic has a way of wiping the smiles off the faces in society. And sometimes society tries to force the pandemic out only for the pandemic to re-emerge with the upper hand. I fell victim to Covid-19 twice with the most recent adventure only a couple of weeks ago. This time, however, I had to cuddle with a blood clot in one of my lungs. How I contracted Covid-19 was sort of perplexing since I hate being in public to a point of phobias at times. And the seclusion for safety by the virus had me fearing everything that much more. So, these days I’m having to force myself to go in public even if it’s just riding in my vehicle or walking down the street. 

What I have enjoyed are the relationships with my cat Coco, my new cat Tinkerbell and my children. Copeland and Marshall have a healthy fear of the virus with comical threats “that they might not breathe again if they take their masks off.”   The boys tell me things like, “Momma I love you so much that I’m going to fart on you next time I see you.”  What boy mom doesn’t melt when her babies say things like that? “And when I see Coco, I’m going to fart on her too!”  Yep, we keep it real like that. I will take that any day over losing one of my children to the virus.

Coco has gone from my sweet kitten to a very voluptuous and very entitled cat. Oh, how I love my Coco! Me and the boys have renamed her as “Coco Momma Lita.”  These days we just refer to her as “big and beautiful.”  Nothing could’ve prepared me for the next little beauty in our lives……Tinkerbell. Or “Tink” for short. Early on I thought the scene might play out like it did for Marley the little kitten that I will never forget. Again, I adopted her from a vet clinic and again this kitten was sick with a big, bad dose of intestinal worms.

Me and this little calico beauty were just meant to be together. I had never seen so much diarrhea in all my life. The stress was unimaginably high for us both. I was headed straight towards psychosis and all she knew was play, play, play and poop. I was lucky in that she was able to hold her own until the medicine began working. But this little girl was determined to make it, and I was determined to somehow make it through a bout of psychosis. All you must know is that it’s scary and you can’t hear what I hear. 

While I took a break from writing my therapy didn’t end. I’ve continued to meet with coach, and I’ve found a new love for scrapbooking. And my “head mates” like that activity too. So, during this pandemic I’ve still found a way to give “my guys” a voice even on telemedicine. So, what has this pandemic taught me? Persistence.

“With COVID-19, we’ve made it to the life raft. Dry land is far away.” 

Marc Lipsitch, epidemiologist

**Don’t forget to watch the video!**

#thispuzzledlife