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brandimorri · 6 years ago

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LOVE IS REAL!

FIRST BLOG….

So, this is my first blog and I’m somewhat nervous! I’ve been researching how to write blogs and I see its just us bloggers talking to you readers!

My first blog is going to be about LOOOOOOVE…exciting right? Well maybe for us ladies not so much for the men *go figure* but you all are still welcomed to read and hopefully gain something from it. This blog will be more of a story than your typical blog. So, here it goes!!!!!!

LOVE IS REAL….

By: BrandiMorri

In case you all didn’t know, love is real. How do I know? Because I thought I was in love at one point in my life but once I finally let go of what was and found what is, that is when I found out what I was dealing with wasn’t actually “love”. It was a situationship, it was desperateness, it was me being young and naïve. Here it was 2007 I was in middle school calling myself liking and “dating” this boy CC *rolls eyes* PSSHHH! Yeah RIGHT! Our “liking” lasted on and off for 7 years all the way to our semi-adult life, I’ll say I was probably 19 or 20 when it ended. Now during the mist of our little break-ups, I was still having my fun 😉. What I was dealing with—with CC was being his convenience. It was convenient for him to treat me the way he did, lying to me, cheating on me, playing with my emotions knowing I’d do anything for him. My mother saw it and knew it wasn’t right. But what did I do? I continued dealing with the kid, falling deeper and deeper for him. I was convenient when he needed a ride or was hungry and when we were older I was convenient when he wanted sex although he was out screwing and entertaining other females. The last time we split ways was the last time I wanted anything to do with him. We kept in contact and he tried to come back but I didn’t allow it because my attention, my eyes were on someone else all while dodging CC’s phone calls and messages. Lying to him the way he used to lie to me “oh I’m sorry I was sleep” “oh sorry I was doing homework” “oh I’m sorry I was in the library” although there was validity to my lies, I could’ve easily replied to his messages or answered his phone calls; I chose not to because I was over him, I didn’t want to be with him anymore.

In 2014 when I was at Bethune-Cookman University on my way to class I saw this tall, hefty, handsome, good-looking guy, his skin was the color of butter pecan. This wasn’t my first time seeing the handsome man but the first time we’d ever made eye contact (this is the person who I said had my attention btw). His brown beautiful eyes met my eyes, never exchanging words or a smile I nodded my head to him (Miami way of saying wassup lol) and he nodded back. OMG! How I had butterflies and couldn’t do anything but smile once he passed. I asked a friend who he was, and she told me his name. So ironically *wink wink*, I found his Instagram and started following him, he followed me back and from there we were liking each other’s pictures back in forth. Still seeing each other on campus and still never saying anything to each other, just blank stares and lookbacks I felt as though we were communicating with our bodies and eyes 😉 he knew I wanted him and I knew he wanted me.

Here it was, fall time in Daytona Beach, Fl the leaves were falling, the sun was shining with clear blue skies during the day and by night fall the air was nice and crisp. I’ll never forget it was October 31st, 2014 and there was a Halloween costume party at a night club called Coliseum which was located on North Beach Street, but it’s now a game room, and guess who I see there? YES! The handsome guy 😊 once again we meet eyes and smiled at one another. As the night grew later, I was on the stage enjoying the vibe and having fun. I look afar, and I see Mr. Handsome walking in my direction, he FINALLY approaches me……yes, I was shy and yes, I acted as if I didn’t see him. So, once he approached me Mr. Handsome does the usual by introducing himself although I already knew his name I still let him talk. To this day I don’t know how we heard each other talking over the loud music that was blasting in our ears? It was like everything besides us was on pause because I don’t remember nothing at all that went on around us, I don’t even remember hearing the music at one point. We continued talking and exchanging numbers and I kid you all not after we were done talking Mr. Handsome asked if I was his “bae” and me being me I wanted him, so I said yeah, no sooner than me saying “yeah” this guy KISSED me dead on my lips…I damn near fell to my knees lmao. **Glad his breath didn’t stink** ‘cause then that’s when I would have had to leave him where he was at lol.

So, several days, weeks, and months go by I started falling for Mr. Handsome. I knew I started loving him when he asked me if I wanted food HAHA! But in all seriousness, I saw how he did for me without me even asking. I saw the realness in him. The generosity he shared with me I had never seen or witnessed in ANY of my past relationships or dealings. That is when I grew even more fond of him and actually started loving him, he didn’t know that until he asked me to be his girlfriend.

On February 17th, 2015 my entire world did a full 360 <3

The day Juan snatched my heart and put a lock on it. Since that moment, that day, Juan hasn’t showed me anything less of what love should be like or feel like. I never truly knew what being in love actually felt like until I met him, and I wouldn’t have never known if I didn’t let go of what was. Being in love is a natural high! You get high off the love your partner gives you, the laughs you all share, the lengthy late-night conversations, the energy and connection you all put into sex and the love you all make. Its seriously a different feeling a BETTER feeling when you stop being someone’s convenience and start being someone’s priority. That is when you find out that…...

LOVE...IS...REAL!

#LoveIsReal Relationship RelationshipGoals BrandiMorri BebesitaMorri FirstBlog NewBlogger Miami MiamiBeach DaytonaBeach Florida

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paulc1st · 5 years ago

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World Mental Health Day 2019

I did post this post as a status update on my Facebook and on my Twitter feeds (@Paulc1st and @Paulc2nd) both on 10th October for it being World Mental Health Day 2019 on that date but I thought I would do a blog as well to mark the occasion even if it is a couple of days old - I am posting this on Saturday 12th October. I thought I would explain about the mental health conditions that I suffer from - see my previous blogs:

http://itspaulc1stmyautism.blogspot.com https://itspaulc1stmyhoarding.blogspot.com https://itspaulc1stmyanxiety.blogspot.com https://itspaulc1stwaaw.blogspot.com https://itspaulc1stwmhd.blogspot.com https://itspaulc1stmhaw2019.blogspot.com

and give an update to the help I am getting.

So, without further ado, here is what I suffer from and the help I get:

1.) Autism with anxiety - I was diagnosed with Autism and Anxiety in May 2016 at the age of 36 - see my blog above. At the time it was explained that I am at the higher end of the scale and that a few years ago I would've been diagnosed as having Aspergers but now everybody is classed as being on the Autism spectrum. Although my autism with anxiety isn't as bad as a lot of people, I do still have my problems with it. It was obvious to my Mam and Dad, and a lot of my mates, due to their reaction on Facebook in 2016 when I posted my diagnosis, that I had it as they had noticed it in me for years but I refused to get help until 2015 when I was put on the list to see a specialist and was diagnosed on the same day as my appointment in 2016. I manage day to day and it hasn't effected me loads.

The main things that I suffer from with my autism with anxiety are: 1.) Routines - Examples of my routines are things like where I have to upload my vlogs to my YouTube channel on a Sunday night and fill in my diaries and organisers and start all of my other tasks like tidying my flat on a Monday night. If I don’t do this, I couldn’t do it on another day. I would have to wait until the following week. This may be difficult for people to understand if they don't have it themselves but it is hard. 2.) Anxiety - See my blog above about this.The way I would explain about my anxiety is that I worry a lot about certain things and I have to confirm things a lot and double check things a lot. An example of this is if I try and ring someone and I can’t get hold of that person straight away I don’t think what any normal person would think and leave it until that person sees my missed call and rings me back.I will ring several times until I can get hold of the person. To the person that I am trying to get hold of this may be annoying but I cannot help it. It is part of my anxiety.

Another part of my anxiety is confirming things to make sure things haven’t changed. For example, if I am due to meet someone on a certain day at a certain time, even though I know what time the appointment is, I always have to ring and confirm several times in the days leading up to the appointment or on the day of the appointment to check everything is still okay.

These are the main parts of my anxiety so if you ever find me ringing you several times or find me confirming plans several times, please be patient. I don’t mean to be annoying. It is part of my anxiety. Another thing for the anxiety side of things was I was referred to my G.P. who asked me to contact Talking Therapies.I did this and was put on a waiting list in July 2016 and saw a woman who I didn’t think helped at all from November through to December 2016.I did see an employment advisor as well through Talking Therapies who helped me a lot more with issues I had at work at the time.

2.) Hoarding - See my blog above about this. Although I haven’t had a diagnosis of it, it is pretty obvious I suffer from this condition. I had kept this hidden up until recently and when I put photos of it on Facebook I was given support from my mates about it.

At my Autism diagnosis I was asked if I needed help with anything and I said I needed help with tidying my flat. At the time of my diagnosis, it was in such a condition that someone I know in the police said it looks like the type of place they would break into to find a dead body. The specialist asked my Mam and Dad if my bedroom was like this when I lived at home and they said yes. Because of this, I was referred to get help from Adult Social Services at North Tyneside Council who in turn referred me to the Mental Health Renablement Team and Safe and Healthy Homes, both services provided by North Tyneside Council. Safe and Healthy Homes arranged for a fire safety check to be carried out on my flat.

In 2016 when the fire brigade came out they told me that they wouldn’t enter my flat as there was no safe passage and was more of a risk to them getting injured. Through the Mental Health Renablement Team I was assigned two mental health renablement officers who came in twice a week to help me tidy my flat. However, the mental health renablement officers were only meant for short term so in December 2016 and January 2017 I was assessed by North Tyneside Council Adult Social Care to see if I would pass for a personal budget that I wouldn’t see but would pay for a Personal Assistant to come in and help me. I passed for that and got a P.A. who used to help me twice a week with my flat.I fell out with that P.A. in February this year when I called her bluff on something and she said she didn’t want to work with me anymore. I then got another P.A. in March this year from the same company for only a month. The reason it was only a month was I only get 10 hours with my P.A. and she didn’t have any car insurance for work so if I needed to go anywhere she said we’d get the bus which would cut into my time so I got rid of her. I then got a Support Worker from a different company in June this year but she was taken out after a month for health and safety.

At present I am in between support workers.

In August 2017 I had a second fire safety check carried out on my flat and the fire officer carrying out said they would enter but my living room was highly flammable with all the material in it like DVDs and books. I had a third fire safety check carried out on my flat in August of 2018 and the fire safety officer who came out said my hoard isn’t the worst he’s seen and, again, said they would enter. For my living room he used the term “fire loading” which means there are a lot of items that would feed a fire and he said if a fire ever broke out in my flat, by the time they got here, it would be well ablaze. I had a fourth fire safety check in my flat in August 2019. The fire safety officer who came out said there were obstacles in the way for the fire brigade to get past and said each room in my flat is “fire loading” because of the stuff in each room. He did say they would enter though. Considering that when I was first diagnosed with my autism in 2016 and was told then that the brigade wouldn’t enter due to it being too cluttered and there not being a safe passage to them saying now they would enter, there is definitely an improvement because of the help off my support workers but it’s just such a long process and the fireman who came out in 2018 said having hoarding and trying to sort it is like having a full time job. Also, with the fire safety check this year being carried out and the fireman saying each room in my flat is “fire loading”, it goes to show that I do need constant support to deal with my hoarding.

Another big help that I have gained help in is a couple of benefits:

1.) Personal Independent Payment (P.I.P.). It took two years, three knockbacks and two mandatory reconsiderations but in June 2017 I received a letter to say I had been accepted for Personal Independent Payment due to my disabilities - epilepsy and autism with anxiety.

2015 - I first applied for Personal Independent Payment in the summer of 2015 and went for the assessment in November 2015. Funnily enough, when I went for my assessment behind the Laing Art Gallery in Newcastle, I came across a film crew which, I didn't realise would become so big - I, DANIEL BLAKE. They were using the Newcastle Building Society opposite as the jobcentre. I, DANIEL BLAKE is also about what I was going for but in a different way. Anyway, back onto Personal Independent Payment. I had based the application purely on my epilepsy.

2016 - In January I received a rejection for my application as I didn't score any points. I did a mandatory reconsideration and was turned down again.

May - I receive my diagnosis for autism with anxiety.

June - I applied again for Personal Independent Payment, this time with both my epilepsy and my autism with anxiety. My learning support mentor at Newcastle College helped me fill in the form section by section. She asked me questions on each section and said I had missed a load of information out originally.

September - Went for the assessment with one of my mental health re-enablement officers.

December - Received a rejection again.2017 -

In January I put another mandatory reconsideration in.

April - I sent further evidence in to go alongside my mandatory reconsideration - a letter from my mental health re-enablement officer and a report for a PA from North Tyneside Council Adult Social Care.

June - Awarded Personal Independent Payment. 😊It's for extra help for people with disabilities.I know I am entitled to it and I am glad the DWP finally saw sense. 😊

2.) In January 2018 I was referred to a company for debt issues and the support worker who came out, as soon as she saw the state of my flat, said I needed to be taken off Jobseekers Allowance (JSA) and to be put onto Employment and Support Allowance (ESA) for people on the sick. I made an application in April 2018 and was transferred and my support worker came with me to my face to face assessment in June 2018 which resulted in me being put on the sick for 18 months up until December 2019. I am unsure what will happen after then but I will wait and see as it is not a miracle cure. At the end of the day, I could be a lot worse.Although I suffer from these mental health conditions and I am on the sick at the moment for it, I do still volunteer to keep busy through a couple of charities. On the subject of mental health. One of the charities I had been volunteering with since March 2018 and I thought was very positive with mental health decided to dismiss me from their company in May of this year as they couldn’t manage my condition which I was highly disappointed in.

Here is my blog on what happened:

https://itspaulc1stbtdboad.blogspot.com Finally, I would like to give a shout out to some people who are always there to help me for support: Cheers to everyone who helps me. I would like to thank some people for helping me and giving me support:

1.) My family. My Mam and Dad, my brothers and sister-in-laws - For having to put up with me and the way I am. I have put them through a lot and they still stick by me. I do sometimes wish though that my Mam and Dad, especially, understood my autism with anxiety and that it’s not me being “awkward” but is part of my condition. Also, my little Nephew and Niece who always brighten up the day when I see them.

2.) Meegan-Paige Hall - I will always be grateful to Meegan. Meegan was my manager at the Marie Curie shop in Forest Hall from 2014-2015 when I was volunteering there. She had worked with children with special needs in the past in America and said I was displaying classic signs of having autism as mentioned in this blog: http://itspaulc1stmyautism.blogspot.co.uk

My Mam and Dad had noticed it in me for years but when your parents say something you normally block them out but it was at this point, when an outsider noticed it that I thought I should get help and I was given a diagnosis a year later.

3.) My mates - I don’t mean to be putting people aside here but good mates like Christian, Gayle and Helen who we all had a BELTAAAA holiday at Seahouses in 2001, Adam from the D.H.S.S. who I am still in touch with as well.

Also Kerry and Shaun who always stick up for me if I need it and always ask if I am okay if I post a down update on Facebook.

Julia - although we see each other only every few months, you are always there to text as a good mate.

All my other mates but these ones stick out in particular.

4.) Ellie Langford - A special mention has to go to Ellie again. Why ? Well as many of you may know, I upload my vlogs to my main YouTube channel, Paulc1st, every Sunday night, as part of my routine with my autism. If I didn’t do that I would have to wait until the following Sunday. In 2018 I asked Ellie, a graphic design student, if she could design a logo and banner for a second YouTube channel to which I could upload to during the week and get out of a routine. All I said to Ellie was it must contain my new channel name and a picture of a Westie in memory of Charlie.She created a lovely logo and banner which I not only use on my new YouTube channel, Paulc1st Instant Vlogs, but also on a new Instagram, Paulc1stInstant Instagram so I can upload to straight away unlike my main Instagram account where everything has to be in order as well as an Instant blogs account.Just by Ellie doing this small thing it has made a big difference in my routine.

Next year she is going to be helping me on another venture as well and I highly recommend her as a designer.

5.) My support workers - Although I am in between support workers at the moment, if it wasn’t for my previous support workers, I don’t know where I would be.

Although it is two steps forward and one step back with my flat and my hoarding, I wouldn’t know where to start.

6.) Sarah Cushnahan - I will always be grateful for Sarah who was my Learning Support Mentor at Newcastle College when I was given my diagnosis of autism with anxiety.

When I was given the diagnosis she sat down with me over several sessions to go through a draft copy of an application for Personal Independent Payment (P.I.P.) in detail and asked me questions on each section.

It needed extra evidence a few months down the line but if she hadn’t sat down with me and gone through it then I would never have got it as the previous year I only applied on the basis of my epilepsy and missed a load of the form off.

7.) Jacqui Rogers - Like Meegan and Sarah, another person I will always be grateful for is Jacqui who was my support worker through the Monkey Project from January 2018 for debt issues and as soon as she saw the state of my flat realised I needed to be taken off Jobseekers Allowance (JSA) and to be put onto Employment and Support Allowance (ESA) for people on the sick.

She came with me to my face to face assessment in June 2018 which resulted in me being put on the sick for 18 months.

8.) Paul Irwin - Paul was my boss when I was working at Eastcoast Taxis and when I received my diagnosis of autism with anxiety I sat down with him and let him have a copy.Although I knew what I was doing in the job, I didn’t have the best telephone manner but Paul stuck up for me left, right and centre which I

very much appreciated. In the end though, he had to let me go as the job was getting to me but I will always be appreciative of him.

He also runs Tyne Idols, a bus tour that puts on different events which I love going on.

9.) Billy Shiels - One of my favourite places to go for escapism is Seahouses - maybe it stemmed from the May Bank Holiday Weekend up there in 2001 with Christian, Gayle, Gary and Helen as mentioned above - but I love going up there to try and spot dolphins or just on the Farne Island trips on the Grey Seal cruises and, one particular boat operator, Billy Shiels, is always welcoming when I go up so thanks to them.

10.) Ben Burville - One of my passions is spotting dolphins and during the summer into October, since 2015, I have been going out on the Ocean Explorer to the Farnes Deep to spot White Beaked Dolphins and Ben is a GP based in Amble who has a special licence to dive with the dolphins for research.

I love hearing about the passion he shares with me and when I am out on the boat, again, it’s escapism and great for mental health when you see these mammals close up in the wild just off Northumberland.

11.) Martin Kitching - Martin owns a company called Northern Experience Wildlife Tours who, during the summer months, charter a boat called the JFK Two from the Royal Quays to spot dolphins off the Tyne and in the Farnes Deep.

Off the Tyne we see Bottlenosed Dolphins and White Beaked Dolphins and, again, in the Farnes Deep, White Beaked Dolphins.

From June through to August Northern Experience Wildlife Tours runs 4 hour evening trips from the Tyne up towards Creswell and, even if we don’t see anything, you see the coast from a different point of view which is good in itself and a chance to relax and escape life for a bit.

12.) Film crews - One of my other hobbies is following film crews around the North-East and watching behind the scenes to see how it is all made.

See the blog below:

http://itspaulc1stfriendlystalking.blogspot.co.uk

I would like to thank certain crew members that know how passionate I am and appreciate me for it. Crew members such as La’Toyah who I first met in 2012 when I was an extra on a Newcastle Brown Ale advert that she was working on, Mark and Davy who I have known since 2001, and some of the Titan lads from the old days. Finally, the two charities that I volunteer for at the moment help me a lot by keeping busy whilst on the sick:

13.) CLICSargent - I have been volunteering with these since 2015, first as a bucket collector at various events and now as a Tin Manager approaching businesses to see if they will take on a charity tin for the company and I have support from a lovely area manager, Dee.

Dee understands my condition and the fact that I have routines which sometimes means the tins are banked a week or so late and this is appreciated.

14.) Springfield Centre in Forest Hall - This community centre is near to where I live and I volunteer as a photographer when they have events on. Although I have my conditions, this blog shows I do have a good support network around me.Having the conditions won’t change me as a person.I have said this before and I will say it again. This is who I am and what I do.I am still the same old Paul - at least it will explain why I act the way I do sometimes. Yes. I have a few mental health problems and I am not afraid to hide away from them as they make what is me as a person. 😊

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studygrrl · 8 years ago

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my experience with emotional abuse

hi there. for those of you following, thank you for finding my blog/life interesting enough to follow. i’m going to be talking about something pretty serious, but to be honest, i’ve come to good terms with my abuser and my emotional abuse in general, but at the same time, i find myself having moments of anger because of what he did and the consequences i face for it. very long personal post ahead, don’t feel the need to read it, this is really for me to get this out of my system, but hopefully it can help others see that they’re not alone in their experiences, what emotional abuse can look like, the consequences, and how they can help.

my relationship with my abuser began my freshman year of high school. i will call him C. C was one of my very first friends. he was extremely nice, very kind and charming. everyone loved him, and for good reasons. he really was truly a nice person. we were best friends, and we finally admitted we had feelings for each other at the end of freshman year. he was my first real boyfriend, i was 14. at this time, i was an extremely extraverted little lady. i loved making new friends, i loved being funny and making others laugh, i loved people. i had a lot of people i called my best friends. one being a boy that i will call N. I had a crush on N in the beginning of the school year but i got over it once i knew he liked another girl. it didn’t matter to me, i loved him so much as a friend. i would tell him i love you, because that’s something i always did. i tell people i love that i love them. well C started to get jealous of our friendship but i told him there was nothing to worry about because there wasn’t anything to worry about. N was one of my best friends and that was it. finally C read my texts, and I would tell N “goodnight, i love you!”, and he blew up. he was so emotionally wrecked and i couldn’t believe what i just did to a person. he was so angry at me and i told him it wasn’t like that, that i did love N but not the way you love someone you’re in a relationship with. keep in mind that again, i’m now 15, a kid in a two or three month long relationship at this point. i didn’t understand what was unhealthy and healthy. i thought it was okay to tell people you love that you loved them. this is where the bad started to happen. C told me to pick between him and N. i didn’t want to do it, but i didn’t want to lose C. so i wrote N a long text message saying that we weren’t best friends and it was inappropriate of me to do so. then C went to california for the summer to stay with his dad. we would skype and sometimes things went good, other times he would just constantly ask me why i did it. i knew i hadn’t cheated on C, but i felt like i did because of the constant blame and guilt he put on me. however, we stayed together. when he came back, things just gradually got worse. he was extremely protective and jealous, and i couldn’t sit next to any boys without him getting angry. i ruined a lot of special friendships for C, but a lot of them stuck by my side even if i pushed them away. during a school trip, he had said very mean things to me that made me, things like “i know you’re already sucking his dick so just go be with him instead” about some guy like N probably, and i started to cry. it was so hurtful to hear that from someone you love. and then my guy friends tried to console me but i told them to please leave me alone, knowing it would only make it worse if C saw. and C did see, and he texted me again saying how i am such a pathetic cry baby, that no one will ever be able to put up with me and love me, only he would. a lot of my girl friends knew what was happening and told me to leave him, but i would stay and defend him. i was blinded by my love for him, and what i thought was his love for me. it got to the point where every day he would call me a moron, an idiot, pathetic, ungrateful, whiny, a bitch. we were both in band together and once i told him on the bus ride to a football game that i didn’t know if i could do this, i was just very stressed out by this relationship. i started to tear up bc i didn’t want to break up with him but i felt like i had no other option. he grabbed me by my cheeks and told me that he knew he did fucked up things, but he knew i wasn’t going to leave either. “right?” he asked me. through tears i nodded yes. he told me to wipe away my tears as we arrived to the stadium. i did and i went outside to get my instrument. my section leader saw my face was puffy and asked what was wrong. i immediately bursted into tears and ran into the restroom, sobbing. i felt so powerless. constantly i was apologizing to him, and he would tell me “i don’t want to hear your apologies” but if i didn’t apologize, he would get upset. i tried my best to please him, because i loved him and i wanted him to be happy. i reasoned his abuse towards me by saying to myself “C is so nice to everyone, he has this mask when he is hurting inside. if he needs a punching bag, i’ll let it be me.” the thing was, he wasn’t always mean. he was mean a lot of the time, but he had this side that was incredibly sweet. he would shower me in compliments, he would show me off, he would tell me he was so in love with me and wanted to marry me. we stayed together through a lot. junior year comes, it’s been two years since we got together. he got his license. a lot of are arguments were in the car. he would raise his hand like he was about to him me, i would flinch, and then he would slam down on something else instead. to this day, i flinch hard if someone raises their hand near me. i have had teachers, friends approach me about it. it wasn’t until the end of the summer of 2015 that i finally broke up with him. at this point, he didn’t love me anymore, and i was just his way of getting his anger out. i had vented to him about my fears of never getting into my top school boston university, of not being good enough. he then replied that i was a pathetic child who couldn’t deal with anything herself. i snapped. i told him we’re over. i cried my heart out. i loved him so much and i just wanted him to love me too.

so where am I now? it’s been nearly two years since we broke up, and i still face the consequences. i am constantly apologizing for everything. i am very anxious all the time about my relationships with friends and lovers. i constantly needed to be assured that i’m not a burden, that they love me. i get so wrapped up in small disagreements. it really is such a fucked up thing to know you got fucked in the head by someone. you know you were different before. you miss how easy things were. there are days where i go to my bed and just cry because i know it’s all in my head and i just want it to stop. i wonder how easy it is for others who don’t have this. i wonder why i had to go through this. why i hadn’t been smart enough to leave. i WISH they told you in high school what an abusive relationship looked like outside of a health class. i didn’t realize until i broke up with him that i was emotionally and verbally abused nearly every day for two and a half years. i wish i had enjoyed my years in high school like a kid, like i should have. at the same time, i’m almost grateful for that relationship. i can handle shit like nobody’s business. things hurt me less. i will never, EVER let myself fall into a relationship like that again. it made me such a stronger person. it almost killed me, literally. i was suicidal for the majority of junior year, the climax of the abuse. but i climbed out, eventually. i have never been that sad in my life since. my life is the best it’s been. i am in love with a boy, and we have a weird relationship, and my past doesn’t help. i am a paradox. i am so nervous and anxious but i’m also so tough and dismissive. it’s a hard thing to try to explain. C is now my friend again. he has apologized. i forgive him. he was a still a teenager. it is in the past. i deserve peace.

i wish it never happened, but it did. i’ve learned to not let it consume me. i used to have to talk about it every day, about how fucked up he was, but i try not to even utter his name now. my advice to others? never let someone try to tell you that your feelings are not valid. i know you might love them, but please, walk away, leave it behind, if they LOVE YOU, they will change their toxic behavior. don’t ever think that you can’t get help, please, GET HELP, TALK TO A COUNSELOR, A TEACHER, FAMILY MEMBER THAT YOU TRUST, A FRIEND, they can HELP you. i choke up at the thought of high schoolers going through what i did. i know there are kids, both boys and girls, who are in the same situation. please, reach out to those you know that are in relationships, and make sure theyre okay. everyone thought me and C were so “cute”, so “happy”. you never know what happens behind closed doors. please be patient with those you know have been emotionally abused. they are trying so hard to climb out of this, i promise you. our minds are literally fucked up. i don’t want to think that it is, but i know it is. tell them you understand, even if you’re still trying to understand. tell them that they are valid in their feelings. tell them you love them. tell them you know they’re trying and that’s all you could ask for.

this whole post was partially for me, partially for others to see what emotional abuse looks like, what it does to people. this was poorly written but my head needed to get it out. as of recently, the emotional abuse i went through has been taking a toll on my relationships. i am doing my best to control it. some days are harder than others. i will be okay.

with love, always, samantha

#samantha speaks #emotional abuse

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womenofcolor15 · 5 years ago

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SOMEBODY GET BOBBY LOVE A MOVIE DEAL, STAT! Escaped Convict Turned Family Man Tells 'Humans Of NY' How A 40-Year-Old Secret He Kept From His Wife Almost Ruined Their Lives

Bobby Love – aka Walter Miller – and his wife Cheryl Love share how a 40-year-old secret almost ruined their lives in the newest Humans of New York Instagram posts. Get a peek into how it all almost came crumbling down in an instant inside….

This was the best story roll out we've seen on the 'Gram in a while, and it even had celebs like Jennifer Garner commenting on every post in shock and suspense.

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(1/11) “It was just a normal morning. Almost exactly five years ago. I was making tea in the kitchen. Bobby was still in bed. And we get this knock on the door. I opened it up slowly, and saw the police standing there. At first I wasn’t worried. We had this crazy lady that lived next door, and the police were always checking up on her. So I assumed they had the wrong address. But the moment I opened the door, twelve officers came barging past me. Some of them had ‘FBI’ written on their jackets. They went straight back to the bedroom, and walked up to Bobby. I heard them ask: ‘What’s your name?’ And he said, ‘Bobby Love.’ Then they said, ‘No. What’s your real name?’ And I heard him say something real low. And they responded: 'You've had a long run.' That’s when I tried to get into the room. But the officer kept saying: ‘Get back, get back. You don’t know who this man is.’ Then they started putting him in handcuffs. It didn’t make any sense. I’d been married to Bobby for forty years. He didn’t even have a criminal record. At this point I’m crying, and I screamed: ‘Bobby, what’s going on?’ Did you kill somebody?’ And he tells me: ‘This goes way back, Cheryl. Back before I met you. Way back to North Carolina.’”

A post shared by Humans of New York (@humansofny) on Feb 5, 2020 at 6:53am PST

Bobby Love and his wife Cheryl Love lived a good life together. They were married for forty years and raised four children. However, they’re happy home almost came tumbling down after the police showed up at their home one morning.

In 2015, Cheryl Love was making tea in the kitchen of her Brooklyn home when someone came knocking on her door. She opened the door and was met with a heavy police presence, including the FBI.

At first, Cheryl didn’t think much of it because there was a “crazy lady that lived next door, and the police were always checking up on her.” So, Cheryl assumed they had the wrong home��until she realized they were exactly where they wanted to be.

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(2/11) “Back in the day my name was Walter Miller. It was a pretty normal childhood. We grew up poor, but nothing really dramatic happened until I went to a Sam Cooke concert at the age of fourteen. I was excited to be at that concert, so I pushed my way to the front row—right near the stage. The crowd was really moving, because it was dance music. And Sam Cooke didn’t like that. He kept telling people to sit down. And after only two songs, he got so angry that he walked off the stage. So I screamed at the top of my lungs: ‘Sam Cooke ain’t shit!’ And in North Carolina, back in 1964, that was enough to get me arrested for disorderly conduct. Things went downhill pretty quick after that. My mother was raising eight kids on her own, so she couldn’t control me. I got into all sorts of trouble. I lifted purses from unlocked cars. I was stealing government checks out of mailboxes. I got bolder and bolder, until one day I got busted stealing from the band room at school. They shipped me off to a juvenile detention center called Morrison Training School. I hated everything about that place. The food was terrible. The kids were violent. I still have scars from all the times I got beat up. Every night, while I was falling asleep, I could hear the whistle of a freight train in the distance. And I always wanted to know where that train was going. So one night, when the guard turned his back to check the clock, I ran out the back door-- toward the sound of that whistle. And that was the first place I ever escaped from.”

A post shared by Humans of New York (@humansofny) on Feb 5, 2020 at 8:20am PST

The police and FBI agents hauled her husband Bobby Love away. But why? Well, Cheryl learned about a 40-year secret her husband had kept from her. Bobby Love was actually Walter Miller – a small time bank robber who escaped from a North Carolina prison and had been on the run since 1977.

”I heard them ask: ‘What’s your name?’ And he said, ‘Bobby Love.’ Then they said, ‘No. What’s your real name?’ And I heard him say something real low. And they responded: 'You've had a long run,’” Cheryl shared with Humans of New York.

Humans of New York is a blog that shares crazy stories told by New Yorkers about their lives. Remember the story told by former stripper Ms. Stephanie aka Tanqueray? If not, get her story HERE.

Back to Bobby…

Before Bobby and Cheryl met, the convict-turned-family man was one of seven kids. His mother had a hard time keeping him under control because she had so many kids, so he was out in these streets acting up. He used to steal purses from unlocked cars and he stole government checks out of mailboxes. One day, he got caught stealing from the band room at school and was sent to juvenile detention.

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(3/11) “I followed those train tracks all the way to Washington DC. And for a minute, it seemed like everything would be alright. My brother lived in the city, so I started sleeping at his place. I enrolled in a new high school. I was going to class. Playing a little basketball. Things were going smooth. But I hadn’t learned my lesson yet. My old ways caught up with me, and I fell in with the wrong group of kids. These guys were robbing banks—and getting away with it. So I decided to tag along. We’d drive down to North Carolina because those banks had less security. And we got away with it a few times. After every score, we’d hang out on the strip at 14th and T, and act like big timers. We felt like gangsters. I have nobody to blame but myself. I just enjoyed the feeling of having money. But the fun didn’t last for long. Because one of those banks had a silent alarm. And while we were stuffing our bags full of money, the manager pulled the trigger. The police were waiting for us in the parking lot. All hell broke loose. I tried to get away, ducking and weaving, running through cars. But I got shot in the buttocks. The bullet went right through me. I woke up in the hospital-- with a hole in the front and back of my coat.”

A post shared by Humans of New York (@humansofny) on Feb 5, 2020 at 9:27am PST

One day, he decided he would escape from prison and that’s what he did. He followed some train tracks from North Carolina to Washington D.C. and ended up moving in his with brother. He enrolled in a new high school and everything was seemingly good.

Bobby started hanging with a group of kids who would drive to North Carolina to rob banks since they had less security. They got away with it a few times, until one day they robbed a bank that had a silent alarm and the cops met them in the parking lot. While trying to escape, he got shot in the butt and he woke up in a hospital bed.

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(4/11) “It was all over for Walter Miller. The judge sentenced me to twenty-five to thirty years. I held out hope for awhile. I was doing appeals. I kept hoping to win on a technicality, or at least get a new trial with a better lawyer. But I kept hitting dead ends. And reality soon set in-- I was going away for a very long time. They sent me to a maximum security facility called Central Prison. Gun towers and everything. There was no way out, so I sorta got used to it. My mama died during this time, and that really shook me up. Because my entire life she’d been praying for me to turn my life around. And she never got to see it happen. So I committed myself to doing better. I became the perfect inmate. I never had a mark on my record. My behavior was so good that they transferred me down the hill to a minimum security facility. This place was more like a camp. They still had gun towers and everything, but there was a lot of freedom. They let us walk around the yard. We could make phone calls. I even had my own radio show. It was a lot of fun. I recorded it every Wednesday, and they played it on the local college station. I was relaxed. I was feeling good. I had no plans to escape.”

A post shared by Humans of New York (@humansofny) on Feb 5, 2020 at 10:36am PST

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(5/11) “Everything changed for me when someone screamed ‘punk ass’ at the prison captain. He was walking through the parking lot. It was early in the morning, and it was still dark, so he couldn’t see who did it. I was working in the kitchen, so there was no way it could be me. But the captain said that he recognized my voice—and he wrote me up. After that he started picking on me. I tried to keep my head low. But the more I tried to do good, the more I got punished. He wrote me up for all kinds of phony things. He accused me of stealing a newspaper. He accused me of faking sick. The negative reports kept piling up, until I was one mark away from being sent back up the hill. And that’s when they started putting me on the road. It was the worst job in the prison. They’d call your name before sunrise, and you had to get on this bus. Then they’d drive you all over Raleigh to clean trash off the highways. It was awful. People would be throwing hamburgers and milkshakes at you. And it was almost winter, so it was starting to get cold. That’s when I started planning and plotting. I saved up my money. I memorized the bus route. I noticed that we always stopped at a certain intersection—right next to a wooded area. And I figured I could make that distance in no time at all. I also noticed that the guard who worked on Tuesday never searched the prisoners as they boarded the bus. So one Monday night, while we were watching the Colts game on TV, I made the decision. That was going to be my last night in prison.”

A post shared by Humans of New York (@humansofny) on Feb 5, 2020 at 12:01pm PST

Bobby went to court and a judge sentenced him to twenty-five to thirty years in prison. He was sent to a maximum security prison called Central Prison. He eventually escaped by flinging open the rear exit of a prison transport bus, hopped on Greyhound bus (thanks to a man who bought him a ticket) and made his way to New York.

While on the bus to New York, a woman was making small talk with him and asked him his name.

“She asked me my name. I thought for a moment, and said: ‘Bobby Love.’ And that was the death of Walter Miller,” Bobby told Humans of New York.

Bobby made it to New York in November 1977 with $100 in small bills, a single pair of clothes and a brand new name. Bobby was able to get a social security card and then a driver’s license thanks to a few people who “overlooked” documents he didn’t have. He ended up getting a job in the cafeteria at Baptist Medical Center and that’s where he met Cheryl.

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(6/11) “I cleaned out my locker before I went to sleep. I wanted to leave nothing behind. No phone numbers. No addresses. Nothing they could use to find me quick. Because I worked at the radio station, I was allowed a single pair of civilian clothes. I put those on beneath my prison garments and wore everything to bed. I didn’t sleep a wink that night. Every three hours the guards did a head count, and I kept seeing that flashlight shine on the wall. When the sun finally came up, I jumped out of bed and splashed water on my face. Then I glanced out the window. The careless guard was stationed at the gate. The one who never patted down the prisoners. So I said: ‘That’s it, I’m leaving.’ I got on the bus and went to the very back row, right next to the emergency exit. It was a five minute drive to the wooded area. As we slowed down for a stop, I swung open the back door-- and I was gone. I could hear the alarm blaring behind me, but I didn’t look back. I peeled off my green clothes and just kept running. The sweat was coming off me. I looked like trouble, so I did my best to keep out of the white neighborhoods. Every time I passed a brother, I asked for directions to the Greyhound station. Everyone kept telling me: ‘Keep going, keep going, keep going.’ When I finally got there, I found a brother in the parking lot who agreed to buy me a one way ticket to New York. I waited until the last minute. I jumped on the bus right as the driver was closing the door. Then I slunk down in my seat while we drove out of Raleigh. Once we got on the highway, the girl next to me started making small talk. She asked me my name. I thought for a moment, and said: ‘Bobby Love.’ And that was the death of Walter Miller.”

A post shared by Humans of New York (@humansofny) on Feb 5, 2020 at 1:19pm PST

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(7/11) “Bobby Love arrived in New York in late November, 1977. I was glad to be free, but I was still in a tough spot. I had to build a life from scratch. All I had was $100 in small bills, a single pair of clothes, and a brand new name. I moved into a fleabag hotel, and for two weeks I survived on hotdogs and marijuana. Then my money ran out and I started sleeping on the trains. I had to figure out a way to get a foothold in life. I wasn’t even a person. I had no papers, no ID, no nothing. Believe it or not, the first thing I got was a social security number. I walked up to the window and told the lady a story about losing everything, and she gave me a card. On the spot. I still have it today. Next I got hold of an original birth certificate, scratched out the name, and typed ‘Bobby Love’ on the line. Then I took it to a print shop and copied it so many times that it didn’t look fake anymore. It didn’t take me long to find a brother at the funeral home who agreed to notarize it. He wouldn’t sign it, but he’d stamp it. And that was enough for me-- because I found a brother at the DMV who pretended not to notice. And that’s how I got my drivers license. Then I used all my new papers to get a job working in the cafeteria of the Baptist Medical Center. And that’s where I met Cheryl.”

A post shared by Humans of New York (@humansofny) on Feb 5, 2020 at 2:31pm PST

Bobby NEVER told Cheryl about his past (even though his family encouraged him to) and he said she never really pressed him about it. They got married in 1985 and raised four kids together.

Throughout their marriage, Cheryl said she felt something was missing. There was no affection in their relationship even though the sex was amazing. By Christmas 2014, Cheryl had “reached the end of my rope” and she prayed God would change her husband’s heart. That was a few weeks before the arrest went down.

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(8/11) “Cheryl was innocent. The opposite of me. And that’s why I was so attracted to her. I never wanted to date someone like myself: who drank, and smoked, and had a past. Cheryl was soft. Almost naïve in a way. I never told her about my history, and she didn’t really press me. I did tell her that I grew up in the South-- which was true. And that I’d come to New York City to try something new. That was true too. But I never told her about Walter Miller. I didn’t see the need. Walter died a long time ago, on that Greyhound bus out of Raleigh. I was a new man. I was Bobby Love now. And if that was enough for her, why complicate things? We got married in 1985. Time went by. We raised four children together. I just couldn’t risk it. My family in North Carolina kept telling me: ‘You’ve got to come clean. You’ve got to tell her.’ But they didn’t know my wife. Not like I did. Cheryl is a righteous woman. Most people, when they see a dollar dropped on the street, will put it in their pocket. But not Cheryl. She will stop everyone on the sidewalk, looking for the owner. She’s that kind of woman. And that’s not the kind of woman who could keep a secret like this. I’m not trying to say that she’d have called the cops on me. But she’d have made me call the cops on myself. She’d turn up the heat. So I just couldn’t tell her about Walter Miller. And there was no need. Bobby Love didn’t have a criminal record. Bobby Love was a family man. Bobby Love was a deacon at his church. Every Sunday our pastor would preach about forgetting the past, and forgiving ourselves, and looking ahead. And that’s exactly what I was doing. That part of my life was buried back in North Carolina. And it wasn’t coming back.“

A post shared by Humans of New York (@humansofny) on Feb 5, 2020 at 3:37pm PST

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(9/11) “There was a piece missing. All these years I loved my husband. And he loved me— but something was missing. First, he never liked to be in photographs. And he always thought people were watching him. But I just thought it was vanity. I kept saying: ‘C’mon, Bobby. You aren’t that exclusive.’ But then there was the deeper stuff. We had some beautiful love making. But other than that, there wasn’t much affection. Not many hugs. Not much cuddling. Not much communication. I could only get so close and he’d shut down. Sometimes, when we were arguing, I’d be pouring myself out to him. And he’d just sit there with a scowl on his face. I thought it was me. I kept thinking: ‘Maybe he doesn’t want to be here.’ But Bobby was a provider. He was always working two or three jobs. He’d cook, and do laundry, and spend time with the kids. I thought to myself: ‘Everyone is different. People have different upbringings. This might be how Bobby shows love.’ But it was hard. It wore me down. I cried so many tears about it. I remember during Christmas of 2014, I was on my knees in church, saying: ‘Lord, please, I can’t do this anymore.’ I begged God to change my husband’s heart. I’d reached the end of my rope. That was a few weeks before everything went down.“

A post shared by Humans of New York (@humansofny) on Feb 5, 2020 at 4:40pm PST

The life Cheryl knew came crashing down right before her eyes when the police showed up at her Brooklyn home.

"Bobby’s arrest was all over the papers,” Cherly said. “It seemed like the whole city was laughing at me. People at church would pull me aside, and whisper: ‘You knew about this right? You had to know.’ But I never knew. Forty years of marriage, four grown children, and I never knew. How could I be so stupid? I wanted to hide. I wanted to disappear.”

Mrs. Love said she knew she loved Bobby when she realized she still wanted to comfort him during this time. However, she wasn't going to continue to accept the bullsh*t.

”The whole world knows now. We’ve got no secrets. But I think this whole mess was for the better of things: better for me, better for the kids, and better for Bobby. He doesn’t have to hide anymore. He can look at me when I’m speaking. Not only that, he’s hearing me too. My voice is heard. I used to walk on eggshells. I used to just go along. But I told him one thing. I said: ‘Bobby, I’ll take you back. But I’m not taking a backseat to you no more.’ Because I got my own story to tell. I can write a book too. I might not have escaped from prison, and started a whole new life, and hid it from my family. But I forgave the man who did,’” she shared.

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(10/11) “My world came crashing down. Bobby’s arrest was all over the papers. It seemed like the whole city was laughing at me. People at church would pull me aside, and whisper: ‘You knew about this right? You had to know.’ But I never knew. Forty years of marriage, four grown children, and I never knew. How could I be so stupid? I wanted to hide. I wanted to disappear. When I went to work that first day, everyone was gathered around the front desk. And they got real quiet when I walked in. But I told them: ‘Don’t just stand there. I need some love. Give me some hugs.’ Of course I was embarrassed, but I was more hurt than anything. Bobby had deceived me for all those years. There was no truth in our house. I’m walking past this man every single day. We laughing. We joking. And he’s not telling me anything? I was so angry. But I never hated him. I wanted to comfort him. I wanted to hold his hand. I told Bobby later, ‘That’s how I knew I loved you. Because even in the worst of it, I was thinking about you.’ When I first visited him in prison, he broke down crying. His head was in his hands, and he told me: ‘I know, you’re going to leave me.’ I told him: ‘No Bobby Love, I married you for better or for worse. And right now this is the worst.’”

A post shared by Humans of New York (@humansofny) on Feb 5, 2020 at 5:48pm PST

Bobby was extradited back to North Carolina where his sentence was later paroled. He was released from prison in 2016 – less than a year after the feds picked him up. His release made headlines too.

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(11/11) “I got to work. I wrote letters to the governor. I wrote letters to Obama. I gathered testimonials from everyone that Bobby ever knew: all the kids he used to coach, all the people at our church, all of our family members. I testified on his behalf. I didn’t know a thing about Walter Miller. But I told them all about Bobby Love. And the parole board took mercy. After a year in prison, they let him come home. The day after he was set free, I sat him down and asked: ‘What is it? Are we the Loves? Or are we the Millers?’ And he said: ‘We Love. We Love.’ So I had him change his name legally. And now we’re moving on. I still have my resentments. When we get in a fight, I’ll think: ‘This man better appreciate that I forgave him.’ But the thing is-- I did forgive him. And when I made that decision, I had to accept all the territory that came with it. I can’t make him feel that debt every day of his life. Because that’s not the marriage I want to be in. The whole world knows now. We’ve got no secrets. But I think this whole mess was for the better of things: better for me, better for the kids, and better for Bobby. He doesn’t have to hide anymore. He can look at me when I’m speaking. Not only that, he’s hearing me too. My voice is heard. I used to walk on eggshells. I used to just go along. But I told him one thing. I said: ‘Bobby, I’ll take you back. But I’m not taking a backseat to you no more.’ Because I got my own story to tell. I can write a book too. I might not have escaped from prison, and started a whole new life, and hid it from my family. But I forgave the man who did.”

A post shared by Humans of New York (@humansofny) on Feb 5, 2020 at 6:47pm PST

The 69-year-old has since changed his name to Bobby Love legally and is focused on trying to put his life back together…with his wife.

Gotta love it!

Photo: Brandon Stanton/Humans of New York

[Read More ...] source http://theybf.com/2020/02/07/bobby-love-speaks-escaped-convict-turned-family-man-explains-how-40-year-old-secret-he-ke

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mikeyd1986 · 7 years ago

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MIKEY’S PERSONAL BLOG 89, February 2018

On Monday lunchtime, Mum and I went to The Coffee CLUB Cranbourne for a “coffee date”. I was still feeling exhausted and washed out from the Australia Day weekend and of course it’s still really humid. We’re both holding out for the cool change to come this afternoon. We ordered iced coffees with whipped cream and a chicken, avocado and cheese toastie with chips for lunch.

After weighing myself recently, I’m really not happy with my weight right now. I’ve jumped back to 92-93kg over the past couple of months due to Christmas, travelling, going out for lunches and dinners etc. But I am determined to jump back on the health and fitness horse and focus on slimming down again. I mainly want to focus on losing body fat (visceral fat) around my stomach/belly/abdomine as this has been the source of my body image issues. https://www.muscleforlife.com/visce...

On Monday night, I went down to YMCA Casey RACE for a Spa & Sauna session as well as a Water Workout class. My heat tolerance in the sauna is still quite low hence why I limit myself to 5-10 minutes max in there. Even that duration is a struggle for me but I quickly remind myself of all the health benefits I’m getting for sitting here pouring with sweat (weight loss, stress relief, flushing out toxins from the body). The spa was also helpful as my glutes were still a little tight from last week’s beach run. http://www.finnleo.com/pages/health...

The Water Workout class was really packed tonight. I’d say around 25 people were in the pool with me but there was still plenty of room to exercise in. The young female instructor is someone I’ve had before last year and of course like last time, she made us work hard tonight. I swear she’s probably a personal trainer as well. We did lots of jogging, running, star jumps, tuck jumps, cross-country skiing, rock n’ rolls, donkey kicks and side jumps plus work with the underwater dumbbells. Whilst I was a little rusty and uncoordinated at times, I still walked away feeling like I’d done a decent workout. http://sgac.com.au/Blog/the-top-10-...

On Tuesday night, I went to a Body Combat class with Cinamon Guerin at YMCA Casey ARC in Narre Warren. I’ve only owned my 2015 Hyundai Accent for just over 3 weeks now and I’m still slowly discovering all of these new features. Tonight I was trying to figure out how the interior lights worked and all found that my compartment for slashing loose coins was located above the windscreen rather than down below the radio like where most cars have it. Oh well, I’m slowly working it all out.

Tonight’s class was a little more challenging than usual for me tonight. I was having some issues with my levels of fatigue and could feel my face getting flustered much more quicker than usual. But I soldiered on and slowed down when I had to. I was also trying hard to focus on my technique and felt pretty good about some of my combos.

There were a few surprises that Cinamon threw in like forming a circle and doing HIIT sprinting in the spot, holding planks for 30 seconds and doing core exercises which we all love to hate. But considering I’ve been focusing on weight loss again, this is the exact reason why I’m doing these sorts of cardio classes. It’s never going to be easy but it will always be achievable. https://www.lesmills.com/workouts/f...

On Thursday morning, I had my Gentle Hatha Flow yoga class with Dell Brown at Just Be Yoga and Meditation in Beaconsfield. It’s hard to believe that I’ve been going to yoga classes at this studio for 8 years now. Granted, the last few years have been choppy, turbulent and inconsistent to say the least but I always try to set good intentions for myself in terms of having a yoga practice (whether it’s regular or irregular). Even when I haven’t been there for months, somebody will still remember me and that’s what keeps bringing me back to Just Be. That sense of community and enjoyment for doing yoga.

Of course there were times where I had my doubts. Embracing change is something I still struggle with at times and there have been many changes at Just Be. Changing owners, changing yoga teachers, changing classes, changing students, changing interior layouts. But I’ve tried to remain open minded every time I end up coming back. Admittedly, I did feel a little awkward and I couldn’t really explain why. Maybe it’s that unnecessary need to explain myself to Michelle as to my whereabouts or that I “should” be speaking up more. But these are pressures I still place on myself and I’m still learning to let go of.

Today’s class was really laidback and blissful. I’m honestly glad I chose it because I noticed how tight, stiff and sore my joints where particularly in my hips, glutes, lower back, neck and shoulders. So thankfully there were plenty of poses to relieve these issues including spinal twists, cat-cow pose, cobra, hip-opening poses, low/high lunges, sun salutation, dancers pose and a supported shoulder stand. I’m really hoping to hit the reset button on my yoga practice and attend a little more regularly than last year. http://www.justbeyoga.com.au/

On Thursday afternoon, I had an appointment with my support worker Ally at Colourfield Cafe Casey Central. Today I discussed with her why I’ve been feeling so overwhelmed lately. The process of my VCAT case has now recently began and now I have a hearing date set for the middle of March. I’ve got a bit of preparing to do in terms of “serving” papers to the people involved which means a trip down to Officeworks and lots of photocopying. The whole thing is very new to me and whilst I know I have a strong case, I’m still daunted by it all.

I’m also learning to deal with my emotions better. It’s still inevitable that I’ll have moments where I want to get upset, get defensive or get angry when someone insults me or makes me feel uncomfortable or threatened. It’s about discharging myself from the emotions and telling myself that everything will be okay plus lots of deep breathing. It does get easier but I’m still a sensitive person. It only takes one thing to trigger me off but at least I can generally calm myself down quicker.

On Friday morning, I had my photo shoot for an article I submitted to the Cranbourne Leader for the Now, Yoga studio VCAT case. I was feeling a bit nervous and awkward about it as I generally hate posing in front of the camera. Thankfully the photographer Wayne was pretty easy going and patient with me as I followed his directions about how to stand and which way to look. I’m definitely not a natural but I did the best that I could. Certainly wasn’t expecting this opportunity to pop up this week so I’m counting my blessings.

On Friday afternoon, I had my appointment with my counsellor Ruth at Piece Together Counselling. It was 4 o’clock and was already starting to feel exhausted and worn out. Ruth asked me what’s bothering me the most at the moment and I said my energy levels during the day and being able to cope with everything that’s currently happening in my life. She suggested to break things down and just focus on one thing at a time especially in the short term. https://www.piecetogethercousellingnarrewarren.org/...

My biggest issue in terms of my energy levels is my sleep disturbances and lack of sleep in general. Earlier in the week, I decided to seek out the advice of an online Naturopath through the Blackmores website. She suggested a number of different things in her email including taking vitamins for stress, seeing a doctor to get a blood test done, eating more proteins and complex carbohydrates, drinking more water, regular exercise and reading some articles on fatigue and the energy clock. https://www.blackmores.com.au/ask-a...

On Friday night, my parents and I went into the city to see the Mrs. Brown’s Boys live stage show at the Melbourne Convention and Exhibition Centre (MCEC). I actually enjoyed it more than I expected. I wasn't the biggest fan of the TV show though I did watch it now and again. It had it's moments but I wasn't falling off my chair laughing. But tonight's live show was a million times better than the stuff I saw on TV.

Certainly it's much ruder (If you don't like jokes about dicks, boobs, masturbation, sex etc, steer clear) and the actors do ad-lib and go off script at times. Those were probably the funniest moments for me when the actors couldn't keep a straight face and lost their shit. The storyline about online dating and Valentine's Day worked really well for the comedy material. I'd highly recommend seeing it.

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desperate-thursday-blog · 8 years ago

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How has stigma surrounding mental health affected you?

Tackling stigma surrounding mental health will not fix everything; less cuts and more funding is needed too, but it is a start.

I responded to The Guardian newspaper when they were asking for people’s personal experiences of stigma surrounding mental illness. Here is what I wrote:

Tell us a bit more about yourself - age, job and any other information

My name is Sophie, I’m 28 and I am a support worker at a mental health recovery service. In my free time I am learning British Sign Language, taking a life drawing class and I’m nearly a black belt in karate. I still live at home but I’m planning for my future. I lead a pretty happy life, but, as with anyone this is not always the case - like a quarter of the population I have mental health issues. I’m diagnosed with borderline personality disorder (BPD or emotionally unstable personality disorder) and I have battled depression, OCD and disordered eating. I’ve been receiving treatment and on medication from the age of 15.

Tell us about your specific experiences of stigma surrounding mental health

• When I was in school it inevitably became clear to those around me that I was mentally unwell, I was referred to CAMHS (child and adolescent mental health services), but my mental ill health was kept a secret from my school friends and extended family. At the time I thought this was okay, normal, but looking back it was covering up mental illness like it was something to be ashamed of. I went along with stories my parents would invent as to where I’d been when I was in hospital or why I had to go to the library instead of going to class. This taught me to keep my mental health issues a secret and that if anyone found out I would be judged. My parents hadn’t encountered mental illness before, they were just doing what they thought was right to protect me from the stigma out there surrounding mental health, they did not get the carers support they needed. • At age 16 when applying for college my psychiatrist advised me and my Mother not to inform colleges of my mental health issues as I might not get accepted and may be treated differently. We took this advice, after all it came from a professional, and did not notify my chosen college. I got in, but I missed out on the extra support that would have been available to me had they known, which could have eased stress and helped improve my grades. • I ordered a taxi once to drop me off at my psychiatric clinic, the taxi driver was chatty and started up a friendly conversation, he knew of the clinic and referred to is as the “mad house”. He went on to ask me if I worked there, I told him no and that I had an appointment. The driver was in disbelief and started to quiz me about “what was wrong” with me. I knew I didn’t have to answer his questions, but I thought I might be able to change his incorrect view of what someone with a mental health issue looks like (as we know, mental health problems can affect anyone). “A pretty girl like you?” he said as I got out of the car but I believe I made him think. • After graduating University I went to visit a friend, he said I could only stay for a few nights - until his brother/housemate got back - because he didn’t want me in the house while he slept. When I asked why my friend told me it was because his brother was aware of my mental health issues and was scared that he might “wake up to find me standing over him with a knife, or something”, he thought I might try to kill him. I was of course shocked to discover he felt this way, I thought back to conversations I’d had with him in the past and how I never would have guessed he had such incorrect views on mental health. The negative attitudes he had clearly came from a lack of knowledge and understanding, but I thought he should have known better as he was a police officer. • One of the ways I tried to cope with having mental ill health growing up was by self harming, which has left me with scars (on my arms). These marks visibly show some kind of mental unwell-being, where mental health usually can’t be seen or recognised that easily. In the summer of 2015 (after BPD awareness day) I decided that I would suffer the heat no longer and stop covering up my arms in jumpers. I was a cashier so this meant being face to face with members of the public, albeit for a few minutes each. I thought I had prepared myself for the reactions I would get from customers, but I was surprised by what I faced; some people’s reactions came from a good place, showing concern and saying something supportive before they walked away, but some people had very incorrect and negative attitudes toward mental illness and were not afraid to express it. I had people tut, look at me in disgust, question me and make careless remarks like “Stupid girl!”. These reactions did knock my confidence and made me feel bad. I felt like I could not defend myself or explain to them why I might have hurt myself and how it was out of my control. I continued to wear T-shirts despite the negativity and as regular customers got used to it the comments got less and less.

How do you think stigma surrounding mental health should be tackled?

• I think communication and education is the key to end stigma and discrimination. • I would like to see a rise in active campaigns set up to end stigma surrounding mental health which involve willing people with personal experience of mental health problems talking about themselves and sharing their experiences with the community. • I think there should be more correct and informative news coverage when involving the issue of mental health and a zero tolerance policy on negative stereotyping in the media. • More attention should be paid to people who act as the support network of someone who is mentally unwell, i.e. family, friends, carers. They need to learn about the individual’s mental health condition/s, triggers and early warning signs just as much as the person who is unwell.  They would also benefit from talking about how being a part of someone’s support network effects them and their own personal mental health.

Do you have anything to add?

I have had some positive responses to being open about my mental health in education and the workplace. • I moved away to study after college and -following previous advice from my psychiatrist- did not inform the University of my mental health problems. This was dangerous and both my mental and physical health deteriorated. In my final year I had a breakdown and was forced to come clean to my personal tutor about my mental health conditions. The University responded quickly, efficiently and in a caring manner. I was signed off sick for a short period and I appealed to the Dean on the University to modify one of my more practical modules so that I could work from home when I felt ready. This was passed and I was able to graduate without having to retake the year. During the last few semesters I regularly saw the departments well-being officer who provided me with a great deal of emotional support. • My current employers have recently had to deal with me experiencing a relapse in my mental health, they could not have dealt with the matter any better. I definitely consider myself one of the lucky ones with good, understanding employers, they have been extremely supportive. They have made a number of adjustments to make my work life as stress-free as possible; I was transferred to work in a hub closer to home, my number of contracted hours has been temporarily changed from 37.5 to 30 (giving me one weekday to attend therapy), I have more frequent supervisions with my manager in which I can discuss any difficulties/issues, and my caseload was reduced. I am very grateful. They set a shining example of how companies should support employees who suffer mental ill health whist working for them.

If you would like to share any of your own personal experiences of stigma surrounding mental health on this blog you can contact me using my ask box or by sending me a personal message.

#mental health #stigma #fighting stigma #equality #diversity #mental healthcare #change #the guardian #article #prompt

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djrelentless · 8 years ago

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“Black Like Me: What It Means To Be African-American To Me”

June 28, 2015 at 6:21am

There's an old saying that I learned a long time ago back in Florida. "I like my racism out in the open." Meaning that in the south (and I know most don't consider Florida the south, but…it is), racists are very clear and you can spot them immediately. Any black person from the south can spot a good ol' boy who hates niggers from ten paces. It's not that obvious or clear once you travel to the north. Racism can be dressed up in kindness and double talk where it can be missed and even forgiven.

Trying to explain this to black people who did not grow up in the south can be very difficult. They often believe they know the experience of Confederate Flag realness, but really have no idea at all. The textbook meaning of racism only skims the surface of how deep the hatred and entitlement runs in their veins. You are taught from the very beginning that you are not as good as a white person. You are made to feel like you are second class and white people will always be in charge and more important (at least this was my experience growing up in the 70s). It seems there's this "academically black" way of thinking about racism and I tend to question it.

So, I recently watched an HBO documentary called "Southern Rites". What was supposed to be a story about a desegregated prom turned into two stories. One about a white man shooting a black boy and the other was about a black man who wanted to be the first black sheriff of his small town. Both stories were controversial. Both had interesting details, but the first story had the most complicated twists.

What would you do if you were disabled and in bed, awakened by a strange noise and the lingering smell of marijuana? You have a gun because you're an older person and you feel like you need protection for you and your teenaged daughter. Then you get up to investigate. You discover that there are two boys in your house. You order them to get dressed and go sit on the couch. Words are exchanged and the boys make a break for the door. You fire one shot (perhaps to scare them). One of the boys lunges towards you. You fire a second shot. The guy is hit. Both male figures make it out of the house. You follow in pursuit and fire more shots but you don't hit either again. The injured one falls. You call 911 and describe what happen and tell them to send someone.

Now….let's erase color and race from this situation. For this instance, let's think about this neutrally. Let's just make it about the facts of the case. Let's just say these are just people…..everyday people. The back story of this situation is that the daughter of the awakened man invited the two boys over for a hook-up. The boys hid their car across the street from the man's house. The man was sentenced one year for the death of the boy. Now…I'm not sure one year is sufficient for the taking of a life, but I definitely don't believe that this man was in the wrong in this situation.

Now….let's come back to reality and the people of this day and age. Let's explain that the daughter of this white man is a biracial child of a niece that he adopted. So, it doesn't seem to me that race plays a big part in why this man shot this black boy in his home.

The other story of the black sheriff pretty much went as I expected it to. He lost to the more affluent and powerful white candidate. Mysteriously after being told he was ahead by about 251 votes, he lost by 100 votes when it was all said and done. The really interesting thing about this documentary was showing these two stories side by side. I'm not sure if the filmmaker wanted to create this obvious look at how the race card is played, but I definitely saw it. Watching how race determined the outcome of both stories really makes you examine how you would react and what would you have done?

My unpopular opinion about when the race card is used and becomes a mentality makes me a bit of an outcast. I often ask the question what was so-and-so doing when the cops stopped them? I often ask why was someone asked to leave a bar or club? I often ask was there a criminal record for so-and-so when this person was being chased? These are the questions that aren't being asked. Yes…. there are bad racist cops out there. Yes, there black men being racially profiled and killed for no reason at all. Injustices are happening all over the world everyday.

The obvious question is what circumstances brought these black men to commit crimes or behave disorderly? Perhaps the absence of a positive male figure in their early lives? The constant oppression and poverty that most black men have to endure? And because we can't all be sports figures or rappers, what are the main images that black males are forced fed through the media and television? And the vicious cycle of racism, prison and fathering more children just seems to keep the black man in his place and in the stereotype.

So, it's no wonder that black people from the south know and understand the ways of the confederate flag oh so well. It is a tough habit to break when you have been conditioned from a child, but it can be done. I didn't know any better or any different until I left Tampa, Florida. New York City was definitely a great place to get my bearings and learn the other side of being black in America. And going to Europe really put everything in perspective. It always cracks me up when I listen to blacks from other places than the United States speak about American Black Culture. They have some interested ideas of what it means to be black in America and what blacks in America are really like. If you go by music videos and television shows I'm sure you would think that most black men have some seedy past with drug dealing and have kids all over the place. Black women are always angry and feisty with a quick comeback. Sure there are many black families in the middle class, but what we are shown and fixated on are the ones who are "keeping real" and dropping the word "nigger" in every other sentence. Why? Because in my opinion this is the new oppression. Let's glorify the latest "ghetto fabulous" and call it entertainment.

When I shared my opinion about this documentary on facebook, a black female friend chimed in with this post "You say some shit sometimes, I just can't with you." I inquired what bothered her and gave an example of how black people cheered when O.J. Simpson got off on a technicality (just as Norman Neesmith did) except I believe O.J. was a murder. She replied "What the hell does that have to do with this? You're need to be extraordinary negro is kinda ridiculous." When she recounted watching the documentary she recalled the Justin Patterson (the boy who died) as being shot while he was running from the man's house. But the truth was that Justin was shot inside the house. I pointed out that this would be a classic example of "Stand Your Ground" (even though this was in Georgia, not Florida). I guess the comparison of Neesmith's case to the Zimmerman's case in the death of Trayvon Martin offended this reader. Her last post ended with "It's embarrassing and sad for me to see you talk this shit but it's your page and your opinion.Thanks for always being so clear about where you stand so no one has to wonder." (as if I were wrong for questioning what were the circumstances that this boy got shot).

Many probably wonder why I share my opinions and blogs online. I do it because I hope that perhaps a different perspective might lead to some different thinking. Maybe ideas will be exchanged and people can learn from another experience than their own. Lord knows I have learned plenty by some of the discussions I have had online. Being an American who married a Canadian I have a really different experience in Canada than the black people who were born here or immigrated from somewhere else. So, many assume that I think like they do because we share the same skin color or we both identify as black. But the truth is that my experiences have made me who I am. Just as each person's experiences makes them who they are. I've been spit at, rocks thrown at me and called "nigger" from a moving car while walking down the street. How many black people in Canada today have had this experience. I have spoken about watching my grandmother getting spit on in a grocery store and she couldn't do anything about it. The humiliation and shame that was on her face haunts me to this day. That's generations of racism.

So, with all this talk of removing the confederate flag from the state capital building in South Carolina. I'm sure many people of all colors are wondering how can these black people live in a town where they have a constant reminders of their place in society (with streets named after confederate generals and that damn flag everywhere). I guess the same question could be asked of all those white folks who live in the mid-west where tornadoes are very common. If you don't know any other life than you don't know any better. You accept your life and you live.

It seems unconceivable that in 2015 there would be a white woman pretending and passing for black. Rachel Dolezal gave the classic movie "Pinky" a new twist and reboot. The idea that a white woman could not only pass for black but also become the president of the NAACP of Spokane, Washington just seems like a movie script or something. But you cain't write this shit! Most say that this is the ultimate cultural appropriation, but is this a sign of the times that some white people have changed their views of black people? I mean…I remember about a decade ago there was the term "wigger". I wasn't thrilled about it, but than again I have many issues with the use of the word "nigger" in today's youth lexicon anyway. Because I am a DJ I am forced to deal with Hip Hop lyrics and white people on a daily basis.

I found it really interesting that the filmmaker chose to interview Daniella (the biracial adopted daughter) last. It was tough watching the pain in Justin's parents' eyes when they talked about their son. It was kinda weird listening to the mother of Justin's child talking about what a good father he was when he was out at 3 AM to hook up with another girl on the night he died. And listening to Daniella talk about the necklace that Justin gave her and how her father is really a teddy bear in personality really showed the complexities of being biracial in the south. When she said that she believes that her father would have gotten a longer sentence if he were black just about summed up the entire southern black experience.

All I know is that if we are going to take the step towards fixing race relations in the United States, we need to pause and think about the other side. Talk about your relationship with other races. Are you open to having relationships with other races (be it friends or something more intimate)? Then how many different races do you interact with on a daily basis? The beauty of a city like New York is that you are kinda forced to be around as many different races and cultures everyday. And I actually loved that. Plus you just never knew who you might meet. There's a whole wide world out there. Why limit yourself to just your neighborhood?

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