It's been so hot the last few days, I was grateful I had one of the last remaining workout tank tops I had. I didn't have any other things left from all the gym clothes I had brought over the years. Expensive ones I got on sale at Marshall's, beautiful high-end ones that I got for such a good price. I took good care of them thinking I would have them a long time—I went to the gym all the time. I loved being in shape it was a way to relieve all the stress of my marriage and the fights that others started over the years. I learned to channel the rage I felt at the gym. I was running and training for a 5k before all this started. I loved to run. There is something akin to your life journey with running. It starts out hard and you have to plan to have enough energy to finish your run. In the middle, you start to fly. Endorphins released I would often feel like I was not working at all. My run would become effortless, but then you had to finish up strong. That was often the hard part in the beginning. Finishing the amount you wanted to run, the goal you wanted to set, and not dying out at the end. When I first started running, my face would be so red and sweat would pour off me, but as I got better at running, I also finished up strong. I finished with enough energy to look good that I had completed my run, hit the goat I set, and was able to finish the run in a strong way.
Life can be like a run, and in many respects, this is the middle, only I don't have what I need for this run. I didn't plan for this run. It's like someone dropped me off in the middle of nowhere and now I have to run to be somewhere safe. I never trained for this run, don't have the right equipment like my running sneakers, decent clothes and I'm carrying a lot of extra weight including my suitcases. I had worked very hard to be all prepared, but all had been recently ripped apart. I also now have some health issues I didn't have before. I can't shower which was always part of the reward after my run. I didn't worry about weight, I prescribed to the philosophy that it was how your clothes felt. Don't watch the scales because muscle weighs more than fat. It was true in my case. Often the scale didn't move much, but my body felt so good and I loved the way my clothes felt. After the shower, the endorphin high would last all weekend. I worked out hard and could enjoy a good dinner and some extra treats on the weekend. It felt so good to work really hard on a Friday night and have the weekend set up. Often I would do a short workout Saturday morning.
I miss that routine. I struggled after a very difficult childhood to put things in place to sustain me and now it was all being viciously destroyed deliberately by a community that had treated me this way all my life. I'm sitting writing and I'm really hot, dirty and sweaty. The soot from sleeping on the porch makes my skin rough and there are dark patches from so much sun now. My skin is dry, rough, and dirty. My nails are always dirty too. I was never one to get a manicure, but hate they are always dirty no matter how I try to clean them. I had a "French manicure," when I got married and that was it, I never had them done again. I spent the money on my homes rather than having my nails done as most women did. I also did my own hair usually save for once or twice a year. Having and owning a home was my goal. I knew my Art jobs might not persist into midlife and property was always of value and could sustain me. I had learned the value of making your home an economic return like women did in the past—things like pantries and other things can bring in quite a bit of money by not needing to buy things, which was working wonderfully, but horribly would be all deliberately taken away!
Having access to a shower or bath keeps your skin smooth and exfoliated. I try to take sponge baths in the local area "Public restrooms" but sometimes I can't stay in the bathroom too long and can only do so much before someone else needs to use it. My skin feels awful. I have gained a lot of weight from not being able to work out like I need, almost 30 lbs now. I'm also bloated and retaining water all the time now from too much salt, fat and meat, not eating the way I want to and need to and not being able to manage things differently from being in menopause now—it's been really humiliating and health-destroying. I had been grateful for the fact of maintaining a look that said I was a professional and could compete with women in the offices I worked in and do good. You have to look a certain way and I had something to work with as long as I worked sometimes 3 times as hard, but I didn't care, once work becomes something you love to do it's not hard to work all the time, which I basically did, but I never took my looks for granted.
Many girls that grow up poor just don't get the attention and help they need. I remember my one little welfare friend had a "cleft lip" we went to the clinic for welfare children to see if we could get help for our teeth. It had been a long ride and a long wait as were things that pertained to the poor. Crowded, noisy, dirty, and the women would roll their eyes with contempt and you knew they weren't going to help you. The government would allow so much money that Medicaid wouldn't cover. I had always had a gap between my two front teeth and wondered about fixing it. When I got to the clinic my "problem" was really no problem and I was humbled and didn't care as I watched child after child with far worse problems with their teeth than me. My friend in the end never got her lip fixed, I lost touch with her after that experience, they moved away. It was awful they wouldn't fix her lip. I watched her struggle with it being picked on when she first came to our school one year.
I was later to learn the unscrupulous dentist my mother took me to all the time was drilling all my teeth just to make money. I never ate sweets, brushed my teeth, but all my teeth had fillings. When I got out on my own I never once had a cavity. I brushed, flossed, and never really ate sweets. It was brutal learning what he had done and in the end became a bad alcoholic, another so-called "good family" here that always was given all they wanted. I went to school with his son, and he was part of the clique here. I can see now why his family had so much. The problem now is all these horrible fillings are washing out, plus I can't take care of my teeth as I need to being homeless. Poor people rarely have good teeth. The more they keep you impoverished, ugly, dirty, and broken the cheaper they can pay you for things that are horribly undervalued and now so cheapened—things like sex. If Mark Zuckerberg sold blowjobs you know they would not be a lousy 20 bucks, but it wasn't about dirty sex really.
Most men don't want middle-aged women, it's why they go on about 20yr olds, if they did they would go home to the wives they had and up their game—quality over quantity should be the game over 50. No, these Men wanted to destroy me because that's how they maintained that macho swagger; domination, destruction, deference to their false bravado. Whores like me don't retire at 50yrs old. My idea for retirement was to still work, but not like I had been. I could have a little more freedom and go at my own pace. I loved having my own business, but my ex was constantly vicious about it. Judges constantly made jokes about "retiring too." I could not see discussing retirement in a divorce was such a hilarious joke. I had yet to see these same men some of who I went to school with were the same abusers that taunted me as a "welfare kid,"—who was I to be able to retire at 50! Many of them had the Government or State jobs you could retire after 20yrs, but who was I to think the same even though my ex was also looking at all the work I did and using me for HIS 20yr plan!
Feeding off another isn't the way to nirvana, but this is where these Men are and this is where we are as a community and in the world as we all move towards a more mature relationship with our sexuality. Even having feelings is still thought of as suspect. Acknowledging those feelings can get you labeled and diagnosed as "crazy." It was crazy and delusional to grow up on welfare and then become successful. Just like in school, these men and women were going to deliberately destroy my life because that's how they maintained their faux superiority. That's what was really delusional.
When I was a girl so often the girls I was with did not have "the look," to work in the offices I did, I never took this for granted. Having a good resume was only part of it. You had to talk a certain way, have the right clothes and move in a certain way. You also had to be in shape. Most of the jobs I held required constant movement, travel, and the ability to multi-task. Having too much extra weight slowed all that down. Plus there was always so much competition to look a certain way. Most companies are run by men and sexual harassment, even the kind that you learn to overlook forces you to always make sure you look your best, and that for a woman is often about looking sexy, but not too much. Walking, talking, and acting in that way that makes others look good, especially powerful men and of course women but doesn't threaten them. Too much ass, too much weight, too much of anything won't get you hired.
When they forced me into the psych ward no one cared my hair turned white. I was in shock and I had another seizure they ignored. I had asked numerous times if I could touch it up, but my assigned "Social Worker," did nothing about getting me passes to leave. I wore the same clothes the entire 4 months I was there amongst other humiliations. I was not concerned about the vanity per say, but the inability to get another professional job that she waved away with her hand to her was "delusional." To the "treatment team," they assigned I was "delusional" to think I was a professional and had a career. My freelance business was also ignored as was the rental business my ex and I had worked on together. Having tenants and being a good landlord is hard work not that you would know that from all the house flippers, get rich quick scams people do today. My cousin was one of them. She and her husband were going to be "millionaires," with the "buy real estate" with the "no money down crowd," of course I was not allowed in on the pyramid scheme, which in hindsight I was glad because they ended up going bankrupt. I see now how the drive to constantly compete against me was constant over the years.
After having and building a successful real estate business myself and having them destroy it on purpose I can see the roots of this hatred way back to when we were kids. My 1/2 brother and his scumbag friend our plumber also starting businesses at the same time I did. My mother's boyfriend going on and on about their businesses, but mine ignored. When my cousin started her photography business when mine was being destroyed everyone rallied around her and went to have their pictures done. I was devastated at the time not knowing they were all involved in destroying the business I had worked on all my life after working successful "day jobs," for years. My ex was also vicious about my new business and wouldn't even buy a postcard when I asked him to be my first customer.
I would now be competing with 30yr olds. My computer skills needed to be sharp and so did my look. My skills were current, but so much was being destroyed that I was devastated this was happening. How could I get another job when these people were destroying the career I built at a time I should be able to have it a little easier. It's hard enough that my bosses were starting to be younger than me, but to look like I was a middle-aged woman who had supposedly done nothing with her life was not going to get me another good job. I needed a full-time job with benefits. Most of the local jobs are part-time, did not pay that well and you were lucky if you got benefits. My legs had always been a problem and having to stand 8 or 10hrs a day after everything that was done to me would be extremely difficult. I started out in retail in my 20s but moved into offices as I got promotions. It gave me some flexibility in being able to sit down at times, the benefits were good and I had been doing well. I was on my way to being a Director, but none of this was taken into consideration—starting over at midlife with nothing was horribly cruel.
When I started my career you could work your way up from a part-time job and then have a set schedule possibly have some weekends off and get some benefits. Now it's any hour and any shift, which is difficult even if you're young. It's hard to do anything really when your schedule changes every week and forget about weekends off, even once a month. I wasn't spoiled I had worked 10-12 hour shifts most of my career and weekends. My ex use to say he worked overtime 10hrs so of course, he got more "toys," like snowmobiles and other items. I accepted that for years, but as I got promotions, raises and other benefits it didn't add up. For a number of years, we made the same money and towards the end of my marriage I was making more than him plus I was putting in 10hrs at work with my commute then coming home and working on my business at night plus running 2 households. My ex did no chores except mow the lawn. He did things I see now that made it look like he did so much. Things that he could get others to see out in public. I put in gardens at both places, our home, and Lake home. Both had herbs, vegetables and lots of flowers. It took years to do on the very small budget I was on and especially learning how to grow things from nothing. I bought all the dying plants in September and nursed them along. They all became beautiful full plants by the time the marriage ended. Numerous small apple trees and other lovely shrubs cost so much to buy mature. I had been cooking with fresh herbs, vegetables, and seasonings from the garden and my sauce was with fresh tomatoes, herbs and I was stocking the pantry now all the time through the Winter, but none of this mattered. All the properties doubled and tripled in value.
It's hard for a woman not to have any clothes. I had saved all mine over the years. I had beautiful suits back in the day we wore suits to work, but all my clothes were stolen. I had things I wore at 30yrs old and still kept, and could still wear, but they told me I "bought too many shoes," which was why I had nothing—I had squandered it all! One of the only things that seemed like a lot was my shoes. When I was young they didn't make size 11 for girls, it was always hard to find shoes that fit at a reasonable price so I learned to keep most shoes I bought. I had shoes from my 20s in good condition, all could have been worn and or sold along with all the suits, but all were stolen. They just don't have stores with these kinds of things because work attire has gotten so casual now. All my suits were from Macy's or Filenes. I had worked at Macy's after college. I was also into repurposing things so often I would put together a new outfit that was current but had some vintage elements.
All that was gone now. The shorts I'm wearing are from a bag of free things left nearby I was able to get. I have no shorts or Summer clothes. My Winter coat took up a lot of room in my suitcase as did some bulky sweaters so I have nothing really now. My new winter boots were stolen—$80 boots I loved. They were the warmest boots I ever had and the most expensive. I was scared to be on the street and have my feet get cold. One time I and my dog were sleeping in my car and it was so cold I didn't think we would make it. I will never forget how he snuggled up around my neck and kept me warm. Bless his little heart. I will never listen to another person again that talks about animals having no feelings, or the other ignorant things people say. I would not be alive today if not for my little dog. He kept me going when I wanted to give up. The love he gave was unconditional and healing. He asked for nothing except his food and water and even then he never complained when I was forced to buy cheap food that made his coat so dry when it was all I could get after they took my car and I had to walk and then they horribly took him!
Taunts about dirty sex continue. I've since learned $20 will get you a "blow-job!" that can go on for an hour!—I can't believe these filthy Men. Cops that forced me violently on the street have guaranteed pensions, promotions, benefits make upwards of $60,000 to start but see nothing wrong with $20 blowjobs. My god, you can't even go to the pharmacy and buy something if some dirtbag gives you something for $20 and I'm not talking poor men. I'm talking men that make good money, unionized jobs telling me to suck them off for a whole fucking hour for $10 who the fuck is delusional? These men try to pretend this is some kind of great career move. After my ex fucked my mother or she fucked him I'm still not sure, I got an awful STD. I had a good portion of my cervix removed. The Doctor said it might be hard for me to carry if I got pregnant. I would probably have to have bed rest. I had been clean before I was lured home and then my ex became my boyfriend, so I know it was him, what I didn't know is all the women he had been with including my mother. When they tell you to tell your partner and possibly all the people they had been with the thought of all the men she was with made me so physically sick that I could not even incorporate this into my reality for a long time. I would get dizzy and physically ill. I also had to now worry about HIV and other diseases because I had no idea who he had been with all those years of lying! All those years of Strip-clubs in Canada flashed before me and made me almost have another seizure if I thought too long about it. I struggled when I thought too much about the enormity and complexity of what they all had done. I hated going to the gynecologist anyway and now that they viciously took my healthcare how the hell would I go anyway? It was all so sick and filthy dirty!
I was covered in bug bites, I had sat down yesterday under a tree and before I knew it they all attacked—fire ants. I have bites everywhere and I think it was part of the reason I was sick the other day. I was always very meticulous about my health because I was often without Healthcare and don't have any now. My ex would not let me use his and often when I started a new job I would have to wait. I had no idea he was causing trouble at work for me too. It makes it even more painful than all the times they called for these "psych evals," I was supposed to pay. It amounts to over $5,000 plus other bills when the divorce started to destroy my credit. I had good credit, but destroying that was part of the plan so I would have "no way out this time." I imagine it's the ability to live my life. Coercive control and Economic Abuse is that deadly and my ex said it all the time about making sure it would be "unrelenting." My teeth and eyes were another concern. Numerous times at the Jail they would tell me I could have contact lens solution and then deny it, costing me my lens that would dry out. When I rented the last room, the pervert there because there were no locks on the doors would rip and destroy my clothes and break things—my glasses were one of those things along with so many other things. I know now my ex did it all the time to make me seem "crazy." The Gaslighting started as soon as we married, but it's taken me this long to have the name for this kind of hideous abuse.
It takes a lot of work to be successful. Most people just want to sign autographs and have fans, but it's not about that. It's about loving the work, which is what you do most of the time. The little success I've had I don't dwell on because it's the blank page you face each day not the people who happen to like your work. It's like the day to day love that it takes to raise a healthy child, often it's a thankless job you only get congratulated about at special events like graduation, which has to sustain you all the times you do the right thing and no one cares and even your child doesn't because they are too busy growing up. Your job is to guide them to be decent adults and let them go, sending them out into the world, but often that's not what happens as immature people use their children to fulfill their own unmet needs. My mother was like that, my Grandmother bless her was not. She was as Alice Miller describes "the silent witness." She would tell me all the time to not take my mother personally. My mother did not grow up living in and with the filth, she is doing now. I remember the barrels of twin-sets, the "Hummels" she didn't care about were broken, the homes she destroyed and the people she hated including me that did nothing but love her. Her relationships with men were a testament to that. I thought of having to ask all of them about an STD and to think of having sex with any of them and it made me sick, but here she was bragging about having sex with my ex when she was 50yrs old as if that was all that mattered. She was a MILF and her narcissism was again the only thing that mattered. I might have had a child, but the abuse was too much. I might have done so many things differently had I known the truth, but those options had been destroyed by my own Mother and family on purpose!
I sit with it most days now. Who are you when you can't be you anymore? It's taken me a while now and they all knew by the time I sorted it all out they would have destroyed everything, which they did. The hatred and jealously so old and ugly and had been cultivated all these years and often behind their faux religiosity. My mother's boyfriend's family has been involved with the Jehovah's Witnesses and they were often rallying about being "dirty." Things like sex before marriage, adultery, and other "sins of the flesh." I had a "bible study" with them for a while, I couldn't avoid it as a girl, bible quizzes were constant at my Godmother's table who derided her daughter all the time to recite verses verbatim. It was another reason I preferred to eat alone, the anxiety from trying to eat and quote bible verses was horrible. My stomach would ache and I would have such anxiety that I often didn't eat too much and had problems going to the bathroom. She also isolated herself from me after agreeing to be my Godmother as a child and then went on to then say she couldn't because the JWs didn't recognize the role. It was all a filthy game with them anyway. My cousin was going to the Kingdom Hall and having so many boyfriends she couldn't decide which one she wanted to date. One Man was 21yrs old, we were 12 and 14 when we would go with my cousins 1/2 sister to her Kingdom Hall. She was extremely abusive and I have no regard for the Cult today other than thanking them for introducing me to God. My mother would quip she was a "Heathen," when I was a child and refused to go to church. Today she pretends to go and makes a big deal of it, but it's all for show—it's all so filthy to do this and pretend to serve God.
"I have to have a shower," she said and went off coming back later saying an older man said she could use his place and shower and "no sex at all," she says. I was skeptical. She made the man seem upscale and kindly. He turned out to barely have a working truck and looked like he hadn't showered himself in a while. Men can't buy you a drink today without sex and these women were telling me I could shower, be given something to eat, she got a pack of cigarettes and he even gave her like $12 and it was all just because he was nice and wanted to help her, she said. It was all a lie and as soon as she wasn't around he was trolling me. You can have all that for "free," but the intimate act of a blowjob is only $20? It was all a lie and getting worse the more I learned about my supposed "new profession" they all thought I deserved. I had given her $20 for some Beer she never returned with and said later she would get it. She would see this man and be back later. I could not understand ripping me off to then sell her body for $20, an extremely dangerous way to make $20 even if it included a shower. What man would deny a woman a shower after sex?
These women are the first ones to tell us all how wonderful "Sex work" is. I have no doubt that upscale "Johns," might be somewhat better, but no one is going to tell me that $20 and destroying your body was a way to the good life. Most of these women I met were using things like Crack and Heroin to numb the pain of what they were doing anyway. I was finding I needed a drink to have to talk about the filth that I was now being forced into. In the same way as when I was a child. Finding a new man kept the welfare coming if the other one left. My mother was usually the one to leave and move on. Her violence made it impossible to make a nice home or be a family and do things that healthy families do.
I didn't see where these women were really being taken care of and these men forcing more women like me into the so-called profession "sex-work" was even more filthy, obviously, they can't take care of and afford the women they had without keeping them in survival mode, but our community was continuing to have more and more Prostitutes! Sex from another is not your right! Dirty Sex is even worse! sex without consent or sex as the result of violence and or addiction. It was continuing to get dirtier and dirtier here each day and my "Peacefully Protesting" being forced into Prostitution and on the street was continuing along with being made homeless from properties rightfully mine.
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