Monday, November 24, 2014

Emotional Ranting

I cannot focus on one task this morning for more than thirty seconds. I take something out of the dryer and put it away and then decide to make the bed and then go back and take another thing out of the dryer and realize I never finished the dishes and then go do a few more dishes and then think I need to sweep the floor and oh, Lord.
It's pouring rain again.

I think this whole Cosby mess has dredge up the burnt crap at the bottom of the pot which should NOT be scraped up because it makes the whole soup taste like burnt crap and nasty, and soup you can just throw out and start again but you can't throw me out and start again, now can you?

In my dream last night about five people saw my stepfather trying to molest me and no one did a thing and I kept yelling at them- Why didn't you call the police?And they shrugged their shoulders and did not meet my eye and allowed him to just go on living his life in the house and he kept talking to me and I was supposed to just act normal as if nothing had happened.

I write those words and my soul shivers. I do not want to think about this. I do not want to and that's why I can't focus on anything today. Just keep moving from this task to another, it doesn't matter if I finish any of them, that's not the point the point is just to keep busy, keep moving, keep going and I feel like keening not just for me but for all the women, the children, who got turned a blind eye to when they were violated, molested, abused.
Who GET violated, molested, abused.
Who are BEING, as we speak, violated, molested abused.

In my dream my stepfather had a baby in his arms and I took it from him. I knew he could not take care of it. He would hurt it.

He is dead now. He can't hurt me or anyone's baby but here's the thing about violation, molestation, abuse, rape- it never dies.  The pain of it, the shame of it, the fear in there. You show me someone who says he or she has forgiven and gone on and I will show you someone who never chooses the long spoon to stir the pot.
La-la-la! Trills Oprah. Forgive for yourself! 
Yeah. No.

Cosby probably could have had any of those women. He was fucking Bill Cosby! But no, he wanted them drugged and powerless.
Sickness abounds and for every sick person there is someone who turns their back, closes their eyes, pays off the victim, terrorizes the victim into silence one way or another.

Have I ever turned a blind eye? The thought horrifies me more than anything else. What if I have? God damn me if I have. I never thought I did but what if, like my own mother, I have convinced myself that something which happened did not? But she most definitely did see other types of abuse from that man, directed at not only me but mainly my (baby) brothers and she did nothing but cry and plead with him to stop it.
She was terrorized too. I know that.
It's so complex and it's so sick and it's so sad, all of it.

And that's me today. My body hurts from it all and as it is raining again I wish I could just crawl back up in bed and read. I am exhausted. From nothing. From it all.

I think I finished washing the dishes. The floor could use sweeping again.
I could unmake that bed and crawl back in.

I don't want that little kitten to be afraid in the great big house. I don't want anyone to feel the pain of being alone, of being lost, not a child, not a sixty or ninety-year old person, not a chicken, not a cat.

Fuck you, Bill Cosby. Fuck you for what you did, for abusing the powerful love which came your way right along with the fame and the money and the respect. Fuck you.
And if his wife does not leave him now, fuck her too because who sticks by that sort of man and calls it love?

Harsh words but this is harsh shit.

And I feel certain that many, many pots, uncountable numbers of pots, are tasting of bitter ash and crap today. It does not taste good. But let's not throw ourselves away. We simply cannot and we have been through all of this before and we will go through it again and yet, we will survive.

I promise you.


  1. She'll never leave him. Sending you hugs across cyberspace....kitty will come around. She'll be romping through the house and with Maurice before you know it... :~)) XO~

  2. Dear Mary, I am one (of many) women in your group.Yes, this is stirring my pot.My mind is everywhere but where it should be. I agree 100% with you on the forgive and forget thing. I have said I will NEVER Forgive!! Sorry this is about you not me but,well we all need to band together. I am going to cook something other than soup today... Hugs!! and try tuna bait close to an air vent???

  3. Sue Johnson- She probably won't. She's been his wife since she was 19. Kitty back in bathroom.

    Mary i- The funny thing is, I didn't even realize how profoundly it was affecting me until I had that dream. And when WHOMP!

    Rebecca- I am too. Literally.

  4. I've never understood it. Ever. I think there was one time in my youth when the young lady I was with passed out and I had to put her to bed. (and well, clean her up a bit too) The thought of taking advantage of the situation never entered my head. Had to wash her clothes for the next morning and such because well, heading home in nasty clothes from the night before is kinda rough.
    And to this day, I can't touch tequila, but that's another story.
    So is it a "learned" thing? This molestation?
    Like I said, I just don't get it.
    Try not to let it make you crazy.

  5. Though the crud at the bottom of my soup pots is of a different, mysteriously complex composition, the resulting confusion is very similar. Your description of the results of trauma is spot on.

    I bet Maurice Jr will turn out to be as smart as Maurice. Already a charmed kitten.

  6. I am right there with you, dredging and stirring. And hating that you are and hating everything that has been done to you. I fucking hate that man. I fucking hate that you still have to dream about him. It's just so fucked up and like you say, you can't just toss you out and start again.

    Loving you from here.

  7. The miracle is when someone like you survives still so filled with love. That's the miracle to me. What your love has done already with Kittah is another miracle. He knows he is safe. There was an athletic coach at Stanford who invited athletes to his home, drugged them, molested them. Like B.C. this coach could have chosen any eligible male he wanted but needed to drug them. When they were about to arrest him, he killed himself. The only thing that makes sense of such sad sickness is the love that can survive intact like it did with you. Love from Anon Suz

  8. life can be beautiful but it can be fucked up too. go figure. sorry you have had all that crap dredged up.

  9. I am so sorry for what you've been through. And sorry that news stories make you re-live it, dream about it. I think ranting it out is good. I'm listening.

  10. I don't even know what I think. Clearly this is a human damage, it is a product of our complexity - it warps this way. What does that mean? I don't know.

    I hate abusers for putting their compulsion before children's lives. What makes them worth that sacrifice? What makes their damaging, horrible desires that valuable?

    Our mutual friend said to me 'What was he thinking??' It's very, very hard to understand.

  11. I heard you calling... eventually maybe the long spoon will scrape up all the drek...


  12. Forgiveness is far too overrated. I think the most important thing any survivor do is tell anyone who will listen so it doesn't happen again. All this mambsy pambsy forgiveness just causes the dysfunction to continue.

  13. I have so much I want to say about what I just read and I don't have the words. You are getting a teary-eyed hug from me. And a thank you b/c for those of us that do not have that particular crap at the bottom of our pots, we don't even realize that a news story about Bill Cosby raping women can do this to those that do. At least this is how it is for me. I would not have thought for a second that something like that could be a trigger.

  14. Dear Ms Moon, there is nothing I could do to change this, which sucks, but I send you affection and love. Carroll

  15. Oh, Lord. Don't read my blog today. Maybe I'm being too forgiving -- and it's not forgiving that I mean to be, so much as JUST. I have no doubt Cosby did what he's accused of, but I also worry about the innocent-until-proven-guilty factor. I know there are reasons he was never prosecuted, including many cultural wrongs that are being slowly corrected...but still. I want justice but not vengeance. (Easy for me to say.)

    In any case I'm sorry this has dredged up so much for you. I can understand how it would.

  16. I know that there are sociopaths and they are cunning. Look at Ted Bundy and how he had so many people fooled. Cosby is a sociopath. I think it is a sickness. Your step dad was a sick man. Lack of respect for women and other human beings, selfish and narcissistic and sociopathic personalities, power--all these things are the problem. I am no longer trusting of people. I want to be but I see the defects of character over and over. I see my own which are numerous. But I do know that there are sick people who repeat a history that was forced on them. I can only do the next right thing. And each person has to determine what that is for them.

  17. You’re back to your industrious self, I see, good for you. I’m glad the healing is happening so quickly but I can imagine trying to lie flat on a bed might hurt. Try a wedge pillow maybe. It could approximate your position in the chair.


Tell me, sweeties. Tell me what you think.