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It’s trending on Twitter, the elevator punch seen across the world. You know the one !Ray Rice the former Baltimore Raven’s running back, knocks his then fiance’, Janay out cold. This happened on camera at an Atlantic City Casino in an elevator. Preceding this altercation, the vile Ray spits on his then fiance’, also caught on camera. After Ray knocks Janay out in the elevator he’s seen dragging her unconscious body from the elevator to the lobby.
ass wipe Ray were both arrested. When all is said and done, Janay marries Ray, a few month’s later. Ray enters a diversionary program, and if he is a good boy and completes it, this little incident of him almost killing his fiance’ is erased from the good ole’ boys record books. For those of you wondering how could she marry this piece of shit that just knocked her ass out in an elevator, well it’s because she is a classic domestic violence victim, that’s what happens, the honeymoon period after the attack. All is wonderful in love and war once again, but mark my word’s it’s only momentarily. This marriage is not going to last… She probably got her ass handed to her yesterday when Ray was released from the Ravens. I have no doubt last night, all hell broke loose in the Rice mansion. Ray probably ranted, destroyed objects and put all the blame on Janay for him loosing his millions for the coming year.
I am certain he told her countless times how she has destroyed him. If she would of acted like a really nice, well behaved , financially taken care of wife, and not DONE whatever CAUSED Ray to spit at her, then life would be good in the land of milk and honey. Cause you know in Ray’s mind , this is all Janay’s fault. Ray’s press conference was well scripted for him, either by his agent or attorney. Trust me in his sick mind the loss of his career, financial status, popularity, endorsements etc. are all gone because of Janay.
Janay probably has apologized a million times to Ray for what she has referred to as the, “Incident between her and her husband.” Victims of domestic violence do not stay with their abusers because they are gold diggers or stupid or because they are masochists. Victims of abuse stay with their abusers due to biological, chemical, psychological and societal factors. And some of us who tolerated abuse , had been used to being abused our entire lives, by the people who were supposed to love and protect us.
Soooo, do not judge Janay and call her a gold digger. Sure there is a lot of money at stake and Ray can hold her financially hostage and brainwash her by buying her out temporarily. Maybe she has no one to turn to for help. They are in a sense, “Celebrities” friends may not want to get involved. Look what happened to Nicole Simpson. I have been there, not as a celebrity but abused walking the streets of San Francisco with a baby in tow, broke. All the shelters were full and there was a waiting list. I made a phone call to my father asking if my son and I could please come back to Illinois and live at his house. He told me no and that he didn’t want to get involved, he had his new family to raise. Take a guess how that felt, people don’t want to get involved.
Reaching out for help is very difficult, I had a recent situation where I needed some help. The help I needed was to resolve my identity , something directly resulting from when I was stabbed. It’s still in the process of being resolved. If I don’t resolve it… well I don’t even want to think of the consequences, unless resolved, life will be very trying to say the least……. Anyway, I reached out to people I have helped financially, some with hundreds of dollars, some I helped with thousands of dollars. Some were gifts from my heart some unpaid loans. I was rejected, ignored, excuses were made. End result , people really don’t care. And when a person has to revisit the attack, abuse emotionally it’s extremely depressing. And then to think people, supporters will rally and help…… well not so much and then again the abused… regardless of how strong is left defeated. It’s a lonely place.
I can’t imagine the pressure Janay Rice is under. She is being badgered to leave Ray, we all know she should. She is under attack for staying, I am sure Janay is being emotionally hammered.
Who failed Janay is the prosecution, Ray was slapped on the wrist. The prosecution knew there was a camera in the elevator. Janay should of had no say in this matter, he knocked her out cold and dragged her like garbage. Ray should of been arrested and charged by a grand jury of attempted murder and sentenced to some time in either jail or prison. This is the “first time”, he has been caught beating a woman, but trust me it’s not the first time. I’m sure very shortly other female victims will come out and say he abused them as well.
This attack could of been a murder, just like mine could of been. I am fortunate to even be able to post on a blog about my experience. But I also because of that attack am still struggling, the anniversary of when I was attacked is approaching. The depression is still there, the rabbit hole gets deeper and darker.
Don’t judge Janay, or any other victim of abuse.
#Why I stayed? I had no place to turn to, my family and friends ddn’t want to help and place themselves in potentially harms way.
#Why I left ? It took being stabbed 21 times.
Ray is only going to get more upset, this isn’t over.
The thief has once again arrived and is attempting to steal my soul. All I can take solace in at the moment is I know I am not alone.
Ive attempted three times since Monday to blog about this, each time the thief stole the words from my soul. The thief is depression, it’s a soul sucking debilitating illness that is all consuming.
Suicide is probably what’s triggered my latest round of depression. Jennifer from Newberg, Oregon committed suicide, soon thereafter Robin Williams and last week, Derek also from Oregon took his life. My heart aches for all three of these wonderful people, depression got the best of them and they were unable to live another day on this planet.
Depression is not always visible, even to a person’s closest friends or partner. The depressed person’s life may seem perfect to others in their social circle and workplace. Not everyone that suffers from chronic depression lays in bed all day.
When I was young, I remember standing in front of my huge dresser mirror in my bedroom sobbing. I would take a pillow from my bed cover my mouth and just sob and sob. Obviously, I was depressed, the reason…… I was severely abused by my mother. My mother convinced me I was worthless , ugly and ignorant. I am pretty sure she was hoping I would commit suicide. My mother used to scream a phrase about beating me within an inch of my life, while thrashing the belt across me or what ever weapon of choice she found. I’m pretty sure she was hoping I would take that extra inch of life that was left in me. The abuse started my depression, knowing that I wasn’t loved, watching my friends parents embrace , kiss them, encourage them, made my depression worse.
The last time I wrote a blog post was July. I resigned from my position at Encore Creative July 30th, The environment was not healthy and I needed to jump ship before it sunk. Without going into detail, I was misled about Encore’s status as a premiere event company. I don’t believe resigning from EC has anything to do with my current bout of depression. There is another project that has presented itself to me, I am going to wait several months before I share any details about that project on my blog.
You may notice, I am trying to work through this depression while I am talking with you. I hope my style of communicating on this blog allows you, the reader, to feel like we are sitting in my living room or patio chatting. Screw the grammar police and critics. This is real life, I’m not looking to be freshly pressed or win a writing competition, I am trying to live and work through my demons. Once again, I am fighting to survive, I’m in a battle, it’s real it’s fierce right now!
My close friends and former co-workers know that I have had severe chronic pain for over 15 years. Some is related to scar tissue from when I was stabbed, most is from my right knee being bone on bone. Last year the orthopedic surgeon took films of the knee and confirmed right knee needs to be replaced, left knee is borderline. The surgeon and I mutually agreed to inject them both with steroids and attempt to relieve some pain. The injections worked and lasted about 4 months. The pain has returned, it is severe, I have a huge threshold for pain and this is all consuming. I’m talking 10 plus on the 1-10 pain scale. I am not in a position to have that knee replaced now. I don’t take narcotics for the pain, just advil. However Tuesday when I was in our safe, I found a prescription my orthopedic gave me last December I hadn’t tried. It’s called Meloxicam, generic for Mobic 15mg tabs. The directions indicate, take only 1 tablet once a day. This medication is non-narcotic, I am on day 3 now and it seems to be taking the edge off. I believe the chronic pain intensifies the depression. I am not smoking though !! YAY for me, that is usually what I turn to for comfort. Cigarettes were my crutch on and off for over 35 years.
I really love Arizona but there is so much that is superficial, The countryside is gorgeous, lots of cool shops and so much to explore. I am looking for places of serenity. I hear a lot of, ” oh she is married to so and so and they have blah blah blah and go to blah blah blah.” Or,” They have this and that and used to be that and this” So What part of all that, makes me want to be part of that world ?, these people just don’t know, unless they stumble across my blog and read every single post. Doubt it, they are too caught up in where they need to be seen at for Happy Hour. The crazy part is, guys are saying this more than the chicks. I have met some cool people though, people I just haven’t been able to spend very much time with.
I’m hoping to identify all that has triggered this last round of depression, and work through the layers that pile on the initial trigger. So much piles on, last night I started feeling even worse because we left Simba and Nalla buried in Oregon. Simba and Nalla are our beloved furry kids that passed away March 19th and December 23rd 2012 respectively. They were both 16 years old.
I know I am all over the place with this post, but depression is a shit show, and for those of you that deal with it, you will probably be able to follow me just fine. For those of you with your perfect lives, and your perfect family, in your perfect home, try and have some compassion for others that struggle emotionally. Many stuff it until they can’t anymore. And don’t call them selfish for taking their lives, did you reach out to them? They took their life because they didn’t believe they had another option to release the pain.
I am always available 24/7 to anyone in need. My number is 503-544-7397, my personal email is firstname.lastname@example.org
I discovered this incredible location on a friends Facebook page. Havasupai Falls is located in Arizona,tucked away in the Havasu Canyons. There are guided tours into the Canyon. The Havasupai Falls is one of several waterfalls and swimming holes along the trek.
The Havasupai falls are located deep within Native American Indian land, a Native American Indian serves as your guide.The guides set up your tent and camp site which includes meals prepared by the guides. Camping has never been my idea of a fun experience. In fact I have only camped once and it was horrible. Unfortunately the Hyatt doesn’t have a location near the falls. I will have to suck it up and sleep in a tent.
Since I first discovered the Havasupai Falls I have met several people that have made the journey. I’ve been told the 3 day journey is an incredible spiritual experience. The water is crystal clear and warm, the scenery is magnificent and the picture on this post doesn’t do justice to actually seeing the falls in person.
I have a feeling once I witness the experience first hand I won’t want to leave. Wishing everyone a very beautiful peaceful day.
I thought long and hard about revealing where I am employed. Most bloggers aren’t as open about who they are, where they live or where they work, and for good reason. Many are writing about experiences that are still secrets in their circle of friends and families. Many are victims of abuse and still suffering in violent situations. Most have anonymous names, it’s pretty obvious I don’t. MY fear has been released to God and the universe. The chains that once bound me are broke.
My blog has been about exposure. I feel it’s important for SOME of us that are survivors to put a face with the abuse. When I left my employer, West Coast Event Productions in Portland August 3, 2012, I was not healthy and living in fear. I never took the time to put forth a conscious effort and commit to healing spiritually and emotionally. My career kept me incredibly busy and eventually I emotionally and physically collapsed. I hit the wall hard. My son’s death threat was the icing on the cake. In hind sight as much as he wanted me dead , he actually brought about my healing and I began to live. Life began to drastically change. There were a couple “family” bumps along the way, but we dealt with each “bump” swiftly and moved on. Continue reading
Recently a former classmate of mine posted our kindergarten class photo on facebook. The only photo’s I have of my childhood are a few that my Aunt sent me. Immediately upon seeing the kindergarten class photo I tried to identify each classmate. I remembered most of their names even though the photo was taken some 47 years ago. I starred at the small black and white photo of myself along side the other boys and girls. I remember kindergarten, and especially parent/teacher day. My elementary years were some of the worst. I was very chatty in school, for 10 years my mother would be told by the teacher that I talked too much and lacked the ability to focus. My mother was also told that I was too fidgety and did not absorb my lessons. The chewing of my finger nails would also be brought up. For years I chewed my nails right down to the cuticle until they bled. After I destroyed my nail bed, I would tear the skin away. Continue reading
Nine hundred sixty five days , 965 days between our knife wielding attackers. I was starting to heal, feeling stronger, I landed a great job with the TOPS program in Portland Oregon. My position was assistant case worker for women transitioning from county, state and federal institutions back into the community. TOPS was an impatient program, located in downtown Portland at the YWCA. Yes, I once worked for The Department Of Corrections. I was offered a fantastic compensation package and I loved my position. Outside of having to collect urine samples from our residents to send to Parole and Probation , and an occasional visit from the US Marshalls when called upon to escort a non complying resident back to jail, it was a good gig. My dream was, one day become a therapist for women and children escaping domestic violence. I also was serving on a Board of Director’s as the Chair Of Fundraising at the largest Domestic Violence Resource Center in Washington County. My son’s were in therapy, we were healing from my vicious attack. Continue reading
I can’t change the past but the past has changed me. Matthew West wrote a song titled, “My Name Is.” In his lyrics there is a great phrase, “I am no longer defined by the wreckage behind.”
This week I faced yet another challenge, I had to dig very deep within myself for strength. I was scared to death, but knew the right thing was to completely disclose my past, so I popped a Xanax to calm my nerves, prayed that God and the universe would give me the strength to face the demons of my past. I copied some court records, pulled up my blog on my laptop and went into the meeting.
The Xanax didn’t help, my stomach was in knots, every nerve in my body was tense and raw. If I would of stood up, I would of fell face first of the floor.
I fully disclosed the tainted past that has haunted me for years. Continue reading
Our youngest son used to always say, “Mom, I am doing big things, really big things.” He used “big things” in reference to modeling at Columbia Sportswear, his employment at the bank and when he started college. That child was quite the jokester and always excited about his accomplishments and projects on the horizon.
Well here in Arizona,Ronnie and I are what our son would call,”Doing Big Things!”
For myself, I have jumped head first back into the world of having a corporate paycheck. In Arizona I am doing “BIGGER THINGS.” I debated talking about it and I am not going to say much, those that know me personally have been informed. Continue reading