Tag Archives: knowing

I feel icky.

Nathan and I joined my mom, my brother and his wife and spent the day packing up my father to move him to my sister’s in Arizona.

My parents divorced 7 years ago because my dad’s retirement was torture for my mom. She didn’t have to help, but was there for me. I am very appreciative.

Several hours later I feel icky in our ride back to Kansas City.

His trailer is full of mold. There were dozens of icky things, including canned goods so old they were bulging and leaking. Dirty dishes that has sat in the sink for the past month were rancid. Boiled eggs left in the fridge were so old they were growing mold, that puts them probably about 2 months old.

We pitched every food item because most were well past expiration dates, and even unopened items were not worth keeping. Everything had a thick layer of dusty grease making it feel icky to the touch.

My father didn’t just have duplicates of things, no most items came by the dozen. I thinned a lot of things, but everything else I just packed because my sister had said she didn’t want us to thin at all. She had no idea.

The icing on the cake was discovering dad’s girl clothes, at which point my mom confessed that he was a bit of a cross dresser. She explained the ladies panties were probably his and that he had a penchant for those and silk, especially stockings. He never wore exterior cloths intended for women. No just undies.

I was less shocked or grossed out, and more angry. Again because dad has spent my whole life picking at other people’s appearance and treating women like objects. I can’t count the millions of times he picked at men with long hair or butch women. To find out he didn’t stick to his own genders’ box, is insulating to everyone he ever gave grief over appearance and clothing choices, which includes us kids and my mom.

Nathan found his condoms, and fortunately his porn stash has either been destroyed or was buried too deep for us to get to it today. I was not upset over missing those boxes, knowing both I and my brother have handled them on previous moves.

Where I feel icky is not just because of the dirty objects we handled. No it was more because I was helping such a hateful, abusive hypocrite.

To my father’s friends he’s such a good ol’ boy. He goes to church and masquerades as a good Christian. They don’t know the addictions and porn and cross dressing. They don’t know about his extramarital affairs or the racism. I know these things and his hypocrisy, and yet I am still helping him.

All the decades of damage he did to everyone in our family with abusive behavior, and I’m helping him. I’d rather see him check out and learn the ultimate lesson.

I’m glad this was my last icky endeavor on his behalf. Another week and I will no longer be responsible for him.

I am not perfect. I have lived an open marriage. I have experienced more than a few taboo things and the world of porn. I have a wicked temper, and I’m not proud of moments where my temper won. I too struggle with addictions.

Where I am different from my father is that I aim for polyamory, a committed consentual plural marriage. I aim for conquering my addictions. I aim to tame my temper and I constantly strive to master my emotions and control my mental function. And I do my level best to always accept others on their journey, and refuse to join in mockery involving appearance. People deserve to be accepted regardless of gender identification, sexual preferences, or any other qualification. You will never hear me pass myself as better than anyone or more virtuous, in fact I gave myself a tattoo to remind me to try and do better. I only rant on others when they disrespect me or hurt in me some way, I respect myself enough to refuse to tolerate that. I strive to do better in whatever that means at the time. So no I’m not perfect, but I’m not my abusive hypocritical disgusting father either.

Perspective is helpful, but sometimes the journey there is just gross.

At this point we won’t get home until midnight or after, and despite really wanting a shower, I suspect I’ll fall over and have to wait until morning to feel clean again.

May you have good experiences with loving parents. May you understand difficult stations. May you have understanding and compassion even when someone hasn’t earned it. May you know eventually everything becomes clear. May you know why you experience the difficult things. May you see positive perspective in less icky ways. May you generally have clean experiences on multiple levels. May you enjoy life more than not. May you fully understand how everything provides clarity for your own life and your own progress.

Siva Hir Su

To distract oneself.

Today, I’ve found myself frustrated that I am not able to make big decisions.

On one level I feel like we’re trying to pull a scenario like Bio-Dome on retirement communities. If it weren’t so rediculous from first hand experience, I could find it funny. Yet stupid things like residents wanting to sit outside and enjoy beautiful weather, except upper management deemed it too risky initially and stowed all the deck chairs. I know we have now discovered that UV light helps kill it and transfer risks are reduced outdoors, so I would have put the damn chairs out a week ago. Alas it is not my decision to make, so I do my best to soothe upset residents. They know I am not worried, never was, and my intelligent responses have started to soothe their fears, but it’s far from the ideal I desire.

Then there are things like the Feds telling states and hospitals to solve their own problems and then intercepting those supplies slowing the flow yet again. See Here and here. I just wish I could be on TV pointing out the idiocy of that move. It was either just plain dumb or an intentional move to try and make matters worse. Either way that shit needs to stop.

However, even with situations like those, I have my own health journey to focus on and my puzzle needs no added stress. So I’m doing my level best to stay either distracted or on happy topics.

So today I am filling all my extra time working on a bigger drawing project. It will end up 2 9×12 ink drawings based on the concept of Atira. I’m working on an ad like image for the temple and business park. Here’s a teaser:

Finally I wish to spend a few minutes in appreciation.

  • I appreciate that there are individuals in charge that do know the real risks and data and practical measures to solve the problem. I look forward to more of those people letting their voices be heard in a bigger way, and news outlets enabling it.
  • I appreciate that I am intelligent to know what is right and proper and not allow fears to dictate illogical decisions…. I didn’t have a mask on yesterday because of the hives on my face, someone wearing a mask apologized for getting too close to me. I simply explained it’s mask or 6 feet, you don’t need to worry about trying to do both, and that I’m not worried about either knowing I’m well beyond having been exposed several times after actually having been sick in February. They replied: I guess you’re right. …Why that information isn’t common knowledge is beyond me.
  • I am glad that I am healthy enough that a new virus bounced off of me no worse than the flu, and even my thyroid concerns feel like something I will be able to fully heal.
  • I am super happy that I made it through, what for Kansas City was an unnecessary extended lock down. I suspect that their projections are far off for Kansas City. Yes, there will be more people get sick, but I believe that it will be a fraction of projections based on the known-unknown viral-illnesses of January and February. We’ve simply already dealt with the worst of it before any shut downs even happened.
  • I am glad that my whole family is happy and healthy.
  • I am appreciative of the extra time I have had with my children.
  • I have enjoyed extra time with my husband as well.
  • I am grateful that I have been able to spend time in my gardens.
  • I am grateful that I have the necessary skills to do many things. I came across a graphic arts position I am well qualified for and could likely get, but would require relocation. I am satisfied in the knowing that I could apply for the position, but would rather stay where I am.
  • That caused an internal dialogue of all of the things in my current experience that I do know how to do. I could literally work all but 4 positions within the independent living retirement community without any training. I could work all of the non-medical positions in AL. Even a for a typical CNA, I have all the hands on knowledge, I’m merely lacking the official transcripts and test scores to prove it. Beyond that I have worked as a caregiver which duties for that overlap much of what CNA’s do in a less official way. I know how to transfer patients, I know proper lifting techniques, I know proper precautions in many situations, and even how to administer breathing treatments and insulin. I am very skilled and at this point I am able to choose what I do for income. That knowing causes a wonderful sense of accomplishment and healthy pride.
  • I respect my own skills and desires enough to step back and weigh all the data before making decisions.
  • I am appreciative of the knowing that I can literally do anything I want. I have even considered getting my masters degree, only needing a year of school to complete it, funding is literally the only barrier, and a hesitation of not really wanting to go back to school again.
  • I respect that I nearly always accomplish on my own levels of activity and work that others often would consider too much. My “I can do it on my own” mentality has protected my family time and time again.
  • I am intelligent, strong, have massive perseverance, and all things considered do my best to avoid being too complaint oriented.
  • I love myself and I’m getting better and better at showing it to myself.
  • I’m better at controlling my emotions and thoughts. That is allowing my life to gradually improve.
  • I am healing my brain and my body, based on good research and my intuitive knowing of what works for me.
  • My connection to the divine guides me as often as I take the time to listen. That is the best part of everything.

May you have minimal frustrations. May you have wonderful distractions and joyful desires. May you find your focus and the resulting improvement. May you have more good days than bad, and know our world is safe. May you appreciate the perfection of natural processes. May you have pleasant days and many good dreams. May your biggest desires be reachable. May you know you can do anything.

Siva Hir Su

Society wins again.

I’m having a bit of a mental breakdown. Not the end of the world, I’m doing everything in my power to fix it.

I suspect it’s hormones butting up against my feeble attempt to release beliefs which are definitely holding me back.

I know I am strong, I know I’m independent, capable, intelligent. I know I’m good at what I do and my business ever grows. I know I’m better every day at patience, kindness, and mastering money. I know I am able to do anything I put my mind to and willing to keep learning new things. I know I’m compassionate and caring towards everyone.

I know I’ve been working on myself for a long time and doing better in many ways because of it.

I care about myself enough to fix what’s broken, especially to make strides towards healing my body, my mind, and nourishing every part of myself. Honoring who I am. I’m not perfect, I’m human, but considering I was raised to not do any such thing, I’ve made huge strides.

Today’s efforts included finishing a book, healthy choices in diet and supplements (still doing pescatarian AIP), and going to the gym because they all help me be a better me.

Yet my workout was interrupted by tears and embarrassment. Running to the bathroom I hid in a stall crying. Another woman asked me if I needed anything, if I was hurt.

I just answered no, I’m okay. Because physically I’m fine, my current hurts are not visible. The workout was going great until the tears hit.

So why did they?

I’ve been fighting frustrations and anxiety since I woke this morning. I was doing my best to tell myself all the things I do know and run through all the good things. I was trying to Abraham myself up the emotional scale.

Then it hit me. The alignment issues I’ve had with people I love. For at least 2 or 3 of the people I gave my heart to, I don’t believe they find me beautiful.

Because I don’t feel beautiful.

I want so much to feel beautiful. But I have no idea how. The few times I have were looking at Nathan’s photographs of me. But there’s a voice that says it’s just what he sees as beautiful; others don’t find the same things beautiful.

Society has taught me that. In my 37 years, there’s been very few people my size on any screen or in any publication. Of those, none have my dark eye circles, none have stretch marks, floppy skin, or acne/psoriasis. At least not that the photographer, videographer, or producer would ever let you see.

We are so ingrained with the unrealistic idea of what’s supposed to be beautiful, that there’s no way any real woman will ever be able to even come close.

Yet when there’s only one way to be beautiful, and everyone is selling things to help you attempt to match that, how do you believe anything different?

How does one convince oneself that they are beautiful when slicing and dicing oneself is the best attempt to get there?

When every effort made only helps to feel better, and none show, how does one believe they are beautiful?

My belly sags- that is when it’s not bloated, my thighs touch, I have zits in places only Nathan sees. I chaffe when it’s hot, I get the equivalent to diaper rash when I eat gluten, and I don’t wear diapers. Despite having two children vaginally, I only have very slight issues when I sneeze or cough too much or too hard.

Yet yesterday I walked 12,000 steps without flinching.

But that’s strength and endurance, not beauty.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. In the eye- it’s visible. But we all see things differently. We all have our own perspective, our own life experiences which have shaped our preferences and taught us what is beautiful out not.

Unfortunately, I live in a society which has done such a great job at brainwashing everyone that I know none find me attractive. I’m too far outside what is trained to be beautiful. Even with all of my diligent efforts. Individuals make exceptions based on their direct family, but I’ve met so many women fighting this same mental battle, that I know there’s no hope. It’s why I hate the cosmetic medical procedure industry, they only contribute to millions of women hating their appearance, and unfortunately even their efforts rarely meet expectations.

But is there hope?

I have unleashed yet another piece to fix, another onion peel to cry over and shed. Every last one eventually had a solution. This will eventually too. That is for me.

What about the other millions and billions of women struggling with the same thought?

It has started, there are a few more big women in media these days.

But they are still covered in make-up, still photoshopped, still pryed into shaping garments, still airbrushed and tanned, still filtered in the camera, and finally still covered with clothes when those options fail.

Our kids need to see that all of every person is beautiful, even the flaws. When that day comes there will be hope for all of us.

For me I just hope to convince myself sooner than later that the ones I love really do see me as beautiful. I dare to hope to one day believe I am attractive to someone beautiful enough to be an Abercrombie and Fitch model. That feels better than coming to terms with Nathan loves me despite being completely ugly. I have no idea where to start, but like all things I’ll figure it out as I go, hopefully as quickly as learning manual tasks come for me.

May you all feel beautiful inside and out. May you see the fallacy of societal standards. May you have strength when you see things that try and convince you otherwise. May you show your knowledge to others. May you accept all of everyone, including their flaws. May you be blessed and loved in all ways.

Siva Hir Su