Open Letter To An Abuser

by Jennifer Renee Coder-Gooding

I see you. I know who you are. You are not special. You are not unique. You are an exact replica of the abuser profile. I see you hurting my friend. I cringe inside because I know the pain of psychological abuse. I see the pain my friend faces every moment of every day as they suffer you. I know the pain, the fear, the anger, the heartbreak, the disappointment they face. I know the damage you cause not only to them, but to the people in their life. I know the position of helplessness.

So this is for you, abuser. For the rest of your time know, that though I may not be able to break the cycle you have so carefully created, I see you. I know who you are. I know what you’re doing and what you’ve done. You are exposed to me. I will always know and you will never be able to hide again.

And to my friend, I wish you the courage to change you life. You are loved. You are kind. You are smart. You are important.

I used to be a dancer, ice skater, gymnast… I used to be flexible, fit. And although I was always just a tiny bit clumsy, I used to be able to maintain some semblance of grace.

Now, unless it’s special occasion, I always use drink containers with lids. I always hold things with two hands. I do these things because if I don’t, I drop things. I spill things, I break things. I hold the walls or anything stable when I walk, because I can’t stand up straight. Because I trip and fall.

I wait for someone else in to empty the dishwasher, because if I do the pain in my back increases to the point where I can accomplish nothing further in the day. I require regular assistance with common daily activities like cleaning or grooming. I have very few friends and see none of them on a regular basis. In fact, I almost never see anyone that isn’t a member of my household. On average you’d be overestimating to say I leave my home once a week.

I try to maintain a positive attitude and not complain too much.

Some days are harder than others.

neighborhoodr-houston:

August 15, 2011 — Due to persistent drought conditions and continuously decreasing water levels in Lake Houston, Mayor Annise Parker today mandated the implementation of the City of Houston Stage Two Water Conservation Measures in accordance with the procedures outlined in Chapter 47 in the Code of Ordinances.

Read more.

My fantastic gay bf is still fundraising… Send him some love?

garlandgrey:

untitled - Myles Kusaba

After one (1) day of fundraising, I have half the money I need for rent. Instead of holding desperately onto the money in my checking account, I can buy a bus pass, which will save me from having to get on the bus with a stack of dimes each morning and also save me money. Instead of trying to wait until the afternoon to eat I’m going to go get eggs and bread as soon as the drug store opens, and sometime this weekend I’m going to go to a copy center and print out a new writing contract so I can be a little closer to self-sustaining.

Thank you Tim. Thank you Ashley. Thank you Arlette. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

[If you would like to make a donation through Paypal, it would be greatly appreciated, I still need about 160$. The e-mail address is garland [at] garlandgrey [dot] com]

This is my gay bf… He’s amazing and you should help him out if you can!

garlandgrey:

Khaela Maricich

So, I’ve got about 40 dollars toward rent for this next month, and I am not certain when my writing monies will arrive, so I am slightly desperate. So I am going to be holding a fundraising drive. To be completely upfront, I totally thought I’d file invoices late and have a plentiful September, but my part time job is so fucking part time right now. 3 hour shifts. With a straight face.

I need about 400 bones. I have a little money that I’m buying small amounts of food with, but any amount will keep me from a diet of oatmeal and occasional free pizza. I’m going to be posting about this for a few days, I’m really hoping for a miracle here y’all.

If you can’t, don’t even worry about it. But if you can I would be really grateful. I’m getting freelance work, I’m going to be making Pizza money when the students get back, I’m getting a job at the University. I just cannot scare up this much money in 10 days. Jesus, would it just be lovely if my mailbox was full of checks on Monday? Oh, that would be lovely.

So, yes, if you can, if you are inclined, you may donate by Paypal using the e-mail address on the front page. You will see a different name, a rather boring name, and you will be able to banish me back to the dimension of screaming but you will not because we are friends.

A name which I am thinking about getting legally changed to match my domain name. Behold, my writing has ceased to be a liability and is now an asset. Huzzah! So, donate, and I might be able to be solvent by Christmas. The domain name for garlandgrey is about to lapse at the end of the month, so I have to renew. That would be impossibly silly to let that fall to some squatter corporation, must complete this task.

To summarize: I have theoretical money coming in the future, but rent is due in 10 days.

togainunochi:

Everyone in the apartment complex I lived in knew who Ugly was. Ugly was the resident tomcat.
Ugly loved three things in this world: fighting, eating garbage, and shall we say, love. The combination of these things combined with a life spent outside had their effect on Ugly.
To start with, he had only one eye, and where the other should have been was a gaping hole. He was also missing his ear on the same side, his left foot has appeared to have been badly broken at one time, and had healed at an unnatural angle, making him look like he was always turning the corner. His tail has long since been lost, leaving only the smallest stub, which he would constantly jerk and twitch. Ugly would have been a dark gray tabby striped-type, except for the sores covering his head, neck, even his shoulders with thick, yellowing scabs.
Every time someone saw Ugly there was the same reaction. “That’s one UGLY cat!!”
All the children were warned not to touch him, the adults threw rocks at him, hosed him down, squirted him when he tried to come in their homes, or shut his paws in the door when he would not leave.
Ugly always had the same reaction. If you turned the hose on him, he would stand there, getting soaked until you gave up and quit. If you threw things at him, he would curl his lanky body around feet in forgiveness. Whenever he spied children, he would come running meowing frantically and bump his head against their hands, begging for their love. If you ever picked him up he would immediately begin suckling on your shirt, earrings, whatever he could find.
One day Ugly shared his love with the neighbors huskies. They did not respond kindly, and Ugly was badly mauled. From my apartment I could hear his screams, and I tried to rush to his aid. By the time I got to where he was laying, it was apparent Ugly’s sad life was almost at an end.
Ugly lay in a wet circle, his back legs and lower back twisted grossly out of shape, a gaping tear in the white strip of fur that ran down his front. As I picked him up and tried to carry him home I could hear him wheezing and gasping, and could feel him struggling. I must be hurting him terribly I thought.
Then I felt a familiar tugging, sucking sensation on my ear - Ugly, in so much pain, suffering and obviously dying was trying to suckle my ear. I pulled him closer to me, and he bumped the palm of my hand with his head, then he turned his one golden eye towards me, and I could hear the distinct sound of purring. Even in the greatest pain, that ugly battled-scarred cat was asking only for a little affection, perhaps some compassion.
At that moment I thought Ugly was the most beautiful, loving creature I had ever seen. Never once did he try to bite or scratch me, or even try to get away from me, or struggle in any way. Ugly just looked up at me completely trusting in me to relieve his pain.
Ugly died in my arms before I could get inside, but I sat and held him for a long time afterwards, thinking about how one scarred, deformed little stray could so alter my opinion about what it means to have true pureness of spirit, to love so totally and truly. Ugly taught me more about giving and compassion than a thousand books, lectures, or talk show specials ever could, and for that I will always be thankful. He had been scarred on the outside, but I was scarred on the inside, and it was time for me to move on and learn to love truly and deeply. To give my total to those I cared for.

Many people want to be richer, more successful, well liked, beautiful, but for me, I will always try to be Ugly.

supermodelrevealed:

Being sick sure is the life, I’m telling you.

How can a girl have gotten so lucky?!?!??!?!?!?! Screw the lottery, getting a chronic and incurable condition is so much better than that.

Sick Leave—On those cold Monday mornings when Mother Nature has dumped six inches of snow on the ground,…

Oh Austin, how I miss you =[

Thank you so much! You now own my follow =] <3