Elder abuse can be a bad thing for an older person, just the same for a young person as well. I know this can happen in nursing homes as well as their own homes where their own children can abuse them when they can't seem to take care of themselves on their own,or bathe themselves or cook either one, and they have to take any punishment that they can. It can be a traumatic thing to go through and see when you are only a teenager of 17. This is a true story of my grandmother when I spent the weekend over at her house in October 1987. This was the time of year when you can just look outside and see the orange and brown leaves all over the ground from the trees outside.
You ever just feel like you're being trapped inside a little box with one little hole in the center of it. There's no way to get out and that's the little pinch of freedom you ever get. Well, I've felt like that pretty much all my life. I was the sweet girl who always said yes. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. Never stood up for myself. Let people talk to me any and every way possible and I sat there and took it. Every last bit of it. Recently that all changed.
A new movement to spread joy, fun, and creativity has launched across the U.S.A. People of all ages are painting funny, crude or inspirational rocks and hiding them for strangers to find. The goal is to spread joy or a little laughter for everyone.
Broodiness refers to feelings of longing and the urge to have a baby. The reasoning behind broodiness is somewhat debated by the scientific community. Many theories suggest that broodiness is the result of changing hormones, suggesting women's bodies are biologically programmed to procreate. This theory is supported by the fact that most women begin to feel broody around the same point in their lives, generally between their early to late 20s, but this can vary depending on the individual. On the other hand not all women experience this at the same age, in fact some women do not experience these feelings at all.
When I was a child, I had some traumatic experiences, like 99% of the world. Mine wasn't sexual, or physical or mental. Well, a bit of it was mental and emotional, but it was spiritual too.
I was 12 when his anger flared again. Despite the consistent paid-for piano lessons, I was not as consistent practicing. Amanda, my very plump piano teacher, outed me as any good teacher should. I simply was not doing my homework. I sat on the piano bench when Dad started. He told me that I was disappointing him because I was not trying hard enough. I was not living up to my potential. He did not want to waste his money. I then did what I never wanted to do: I cried. As hard as I tried not to, the tears simply poured down my face as an unspoken anger filled my heart, ashamed of the tears. It showed weakness. I promised myself never ever to cry again. I held true to my self-induced vow for 8 years. Whenever I was teased or hurt in any way, however much I wanted, I simply would not cry. That stubborn desire was my stronghold and my answer for survival. To myself, I dared anyone to make me cry, feel remorseful, or feel anything. I simply rose above it.
June 19, 2016 will forever be a horrifyingly beautiful reality check to me. I thought I knew what it meant to be in despair, to feel as though my life was truly about to crumble and have little worth in this world. My stepfather showed me otherwise on the day he decided to kick me out. He blamed me for many things, from my sister's disinterest in her personal hygiene to the altercation between her and my brother.
We get stuck in the every day of raising a family. We get stuck between our beds, the backyard and the back and forth trips to the grocery store for that item we forgot again. (milk! adding it to the list for the third time this week.)
I walk forward a few paces in the line to see Santa. There are little reindeer standing on top of cotton which looks a bit like snow. I look behind me and stare at the line of other children waiting to see Santa. There’s a bored girl right behind me, and a teenager with a small girl, and another teenager with his Dad. The elves' bells are jangling so I turn back around, and they look slightly bored at first, but then they smile when they see me watching them.