Bee's DoodleBlog

We don’t have to discuss how I haven’t been around. 
I know, I know, I broke a rule.

Listen, I’ve been busy, okay?
and actually, really haven’t had much to report on…

That’s life. 
Sometimes loud and in your face.
Sometimes not so much. 

Currently, we are experiencing a not-so-much.

…and I’m a liar.

So here we go.

Two things significant to document.

One: I’ve decided that I am seriously going to learn how to play the guitar. I accidentally mentioned this to a coworker who has supplied me with a guitar. and a challenge. If I can learn to play Stairway to Heaven for him by September the guitar is mine to keep. It’s a Martin (and I am told this is a big deal, I don’t really know.) So, the mission, which I have accepted, is to conquer this stringed up box. 

Right now I can very screechylike play the first 8 notes of Ode To Joy.
and I didn’t cheat, too much. I actually looked at sheet music and broke it down.
I didn’t just watch someone do it on youtube and mimic.

Hopefully, I won’t putz out and give up. I have momentum right now and I would like to keep it that way.  Cause when this kid challenges you, you don’t fail. I am not sure I could handle the unspoken consequences of failure.

Second: Remember boy-who-didn’t-get-his-Christmas-present? He’s back around.

Of course he is.
and I still can’t get any reaction from him.
We’ve had two text message conversations and it’s clear to me that
he hasn’t changed.
(but I have.)
I get NO reaction from him.
I try to argue with him, if he’s fighting with me at least he’s reacting to something.
No.
Nothing.
Nada.
He’s once again told me he’s loved me and that he can’t live without me.
and that his fear of my rejecting him and walking away from him forever
is the driving factor behind all his crap behavior.
I want to give him the benefit of the doubt,
but I am really all BOTDed out.

There is a different beautiful boy I like right now who pays attention to me.
and even though it’s not in the cards for us to be in a relationship,
he’s treats me like a human.
and I like it.  

Past behaviors predict future events.
and I am not in a position to drop everything
and put time and effort into a boy/relationship
where I am only the afterthought at the end of the day.

I can’t do it.
I’m not sorry.
I tried.
That’s that.

Read More

Dear “You”: 
      Since this is letter is for you.
Let’s define who “you” is in this situation.

“You” are the person who I care about. The person who is family. A friend.
People, who like beads, are strung on the same chain.
Individual pieces that come together to make something delicate,
beautiful,
a priceless masterpiece.

“You” are the people who often disagree with different aspects of my life.
The people who respect me enough to let me share my view, but who want
me to convert to yours. 
and who want me to agree to disagree with you.
To tolerate your view points and respect our differences.

“You” are the people who want all this from me but
are unwilling to tolerate my ideas and values.

I’m here to tell you that it’s not a one way street.
and I am tired of being made feel like I need to question who I am.

“You” are the people who make me doubt my every move.
Every question. Every answer. Every action.
Every decision.

“You” are the person who thinks that gay people
are so diabolical, blasphemous, offensive, dangerous, and disgusting. 
“You” are the person who thinks that people who aren’t politically “right” 
are dangerous, ignorant, abhorrent, and condemnable. 
“You” are the person who defends traditional women’s roles.
“You” are the person who thinks that people who don’t follow God like you do
are reprehensible, criminal, and deplorable.
Etc. etc. etc. 

Dear “You”, 
After much consideration I’ve decided that today I don’t like “you”. 
and “you” are in time-out until further notice. 

I still love “you” and I’m not asking for a divorce, but today, 
“you” are on my shit list. 

And I am here to tell “you” about it.

I don’t appreciate how “you” make me feel. 
I don’t like that I am put on the defense when we are together. 

I know who I am.
I am beautiful. 
I am strong. 
I am independent. 
Open minded. 
Young. 
I make sound decisions. 
I do work that makes this world a better place. 
Just because I don’t believe in God the way “you” think I should doesn’t mean that I am hurting people or living without ethics or morals or values. 
It doesn’t matter who I have sex with, when, where or how- as long as every one involved is a consenting adult- you have NO business in my body. 
Just because I don’t vote along your party lines doesn’t mean that 
I am less intelligent or less deserving of the World.
Etc. etc. etc.

It’s hard not to feel like you hate me when you hate everything I am. 
You don’t like women. You don’t like anyone who doesn’t look or act like you.
You don’t like anyone who strays from the path you deem appropriate. 

I am a woman. 
A strong, independent, thinking, breathing, fighting woman. 
I’m not straight. I don’t believe in your God. 
I am a registered Democrat. I am pro-choice. 
I am pro-welfare programs. 
I’m against war.
Etc. etc. etc. 

I’m not going to change.

Please, please, please. 
Stop treating me like 
less than a person,
stop treating me like the love “you” give me is conditional,
like I am irrational, intolerable, wrong-
because I am none of those things. 
I am brilliant. Stable. Passionate. 
Caring. Loving. Generous. Humble. Philanthropic. 

I am self-aware and the decisions I make are the best ones I can make. 
I regret nothing because in the moment I only know what I know. 
I can’t tell the future. 

Be proud of the person I’ve become.
Because of “you”. In spite of “you”. 

“You” are not going to hinder me. 
I’m not going to be intimidated by “you” anymore. 
I am not. 

I like me. 
I am standing my ground. 

Thank “you” for the “Happy VERY BELATED birthday, are you a registered REPUBLICAN yet?” text message.  I was worried “you” had forgotten about me. 

I’m pissed off.
-Bailey.
9:22 P.M 

Hello there.

I was all ready to blog the shit out of life
so I signed on and now I am not feeling it.
Let me just type a little and see if anything comes of it.

Today I am having a day.
I am angry and sick-feeling and generally overall
feeling like shit.
My best educated guess is that it’s
my hormones fluctuating violently
because I needed to stop the birth control I was on mid pack.

My gyno had finally decided that it was time that I go on it again.
(She’s been trying to get me to go back on it for about a year now)
Not even because I am at a high risk for pregnancy
(but let me take a moment to come out as sexual-
being temporarily sterile would be a perk.)
But really, she wanted me on for my extreme PMS,
gross irregular cycle, high testosterone and other symptoms that
come along with the genetic defect that causes PCOS.
(Polycystic ovarian syndrome)

She gave me the run down on this new med and
told me if I get headaches or leg cramps call her immediately.
After the 3rd or 4th pill the headaches started.
I didn’t call right away cause I thought it was work induced.
But it didn’t go away, and finally I broke down and called.
(Oh and I should mention I had every other symptom in the book too…
Nausea, cranky, spotting, mood swings, etc. etc. Those symptoms would
eventually subside if I stay with it for about 3 months…. I guess
headaches are a side effect that don’t go away)
So I was told to immediately stop it.
and when it’s worked out of my system to follow up.

But, after being on for about 17 days I remember
why I fought her so hard about it in the first place.
I don’t like the way it makes me feel.
I don’t like taking hormones that my body should make on it’s own.
It can’t and doesn’t. but it should.

Please don’t get me wrong.
I love that birth control exists.
and all the power to you if it works for you.
Take responsibility for your own body and yada yada.

But I don’t like it for me.

and I really don’t like how I feel today.
I don’t like that I feel like I have NO control over my emotions.
I shouldn’t be trusted with decisions or be around people.

and…. I have to be around people today.
There is a HUGE event today that I am going to…
(It’s a long story really about what the event is)
It’s a SAAM event and I love it.
This is the fourth one.
but this year I am going alone.
Which is a lie, because out of the 200 expected people
I will probably know 175 of them.

And together we will celebrate that sexual assault isn’t going to get us down.
We have the power.
Mother fuckers.

but. This is a celebration for me on many levels.
Not just the macro- community coming together level.
or the smaller I helped create this event level
or even on the smaller personal level of
Watching people I know who have been assaulted come out and
heal.
On the smallest micro level possible this is a day for me too.
A day where (if I wasn’t in some weird hormones withdrawal)
my internal feelings (in regards to sexual abuse)
would match the external environment.

….I would reach….
some sort of homeostatic happiness.
Home.

and I want nothing more to share that with someone.
I want to share the macro of it.
I want to share my community.
I want to share the awesomeness of my life.
I want to share.
I want someone to be proud of me.
And benefit from my work….
and I know people are proud of me.
and I know that I do good work.
and I know that there are going to be 200 people there sharing with me.
but…
It’s not the same somehow.

Like every other event in my life (it seems)
I’ll head over alone.
and enjoy alone.
and make the best out of the alone situation.
and be alone.
and I’ll have a great time.
and I won’t be alone.

I am fully ready to feel the weight of being alone in a crowded room today
which will be extra heavy thank you to the lack of stable hormones.

Bring it on.

That’s all for now.
Everything will be okay.

Love and hugs.
<3 2:06

Basil on the left, parsley on the right. Fun fact, parsley dances into the sun.

The oregano is in the window still. I see some green in there. Not sure if its my mommy imagination or actual sprouts. 

End 8:41 pm 

-sigh- 
Remember the long winded rant that started this blog?
about being honest and the potential for it to hurt people?
Well, this is going to be one of those blogs.
But, this is my life.
I’m responsible only for what I say, not what you understand. 

Lately, it seems, that the topic of sexual abuse has been weighing heavily on my mind.
Partly because I am hanging out with this boy and 
piece of me needs hi—— 

Let’s start over. 

Hi there. 
For the first time ever I am coming out -
right now,
as a survivor of sexual abuse.
From a few places in my life.
There was a situation with a friend of mine when I was in elementary school
And then again when I was 16 and had a not-so-nice-boyfriend.
It’s taken me a long time, a lot of forceful cries, and a lot of dealing
but, I’ve made peace with it.

Being at peace with it doesn’t make it go away, sadly.
Those acts influenced every decision I have made since then.

And…..
Lately, it seems, that the topic of sexual abuse has been weighing heavily on my mind. 
Partly because I am hanging out with this boy and 
piece of me needs him to know that there are things that may trigger me. 
An equally loud piece of me knows that this boy is not my attacker(s) 
and would never do anything to me like that. 
I trust him. Which is kinda scary, but another story for another day. 

My decision on mentioning it to him stands as this:
If something happens and I become uncomfortable or have a negative reaction
I will share that long ago part of my life with him. 

Another reason why S.A. has been on my mind is because it’s April.
and April is Sexual Assault Awareness Month.
and I do tons of volunteer work in the field. 
Including, already this month, going to an open mic night
where poems and stories and facts and truths and hope was shared. 
I briefly stole the floor and spoke passionately about an experience I had had the day before. 

And I need to share it again right here, right now. 
Because, even though I am over the initial abuse
the secondary, tertiary, quaddouchiary and so forth waves still 
crash on my shores. 
These issues effect my life. 

So, there I was at work. 
Talking to a coworker about my weekend plans. 
And I say “April is Sexual Assault Awareness Month.” 
and am prepared to throw out some educational fun facts
about why this matters. 
I wasn’t going to disclose anything. 
I was just going to present some information. 
Science. 
Another coworker, for the sake of the story we can call her Peggy, 
is standing in ear shot and says- straight at me, totally seriously, 
“HAVE YOU EVER BEEN SEXUALLY ASSAULTED?” 
Her eyebrows were furrowed and I felt attacked.
Who the fuck is this woman to come at me like this?
and how fucking rude, really. 
So, I am about to answer her. 
After a pregnant pause and the look of utter disgust melts from my face I begin.
“Uhh… Well, actually…”
AND PEGGY, in all her glory, interrupts me. 
“I’ve never been afforded the pleasure.” She says. 
The mask of polite niceness I wear at work was already pulled off by her first question. 
I am ready to attack this lady. 
Did she really just make a rape joke?
In the middle of the office?
At work?
On a Thursday?!
What. the. fuck. 
The coworker I was originally talking to butts back in at this point 
and explains the difference between consent and not consent. 

I let it go and I let her walk away. 
Because, it was ignorant.
and she has some type of perceived power over me in the office. 
and I don’t need to put my job on the line 
by “not having a sense of humor.” 

It’s been over a week since that incident and I don’t want to work with this coworker. 
I don’t want to talk to her.
I don’t want to deal with her. 
I wish I had said something in the moment. 
Regret, what a beautiful thing. 

Fast forward to the present day.
It’s been what I call a “bad abuse day.” 
I just sort of want to be left alone
unless you’re going to let me preach about gender issues.
and I don’t really want to leave the house alone, 
because there are scary people in the world. 
and I am just soft and sensitive today. 
but, the claws will come out and I will stand my ground if threatened. 

This comes about because I wanted scallops for dinner. 
Now Bailey, how does that even make sense? 
Easy. I live in the middle of nowhere.
and to get scallops you need to go to a specific grocery store
two towns over.
and this specific grocery store is hangout
of a man who is the scariest person, hands-down, I ever met. 
ever. 
This person never did anything to physically harm me,
but he has power in the community, 
knows everyone from local cops to Federal Gov’t officials, 
has money and respect, no fear,
is a bigot, about 70 years old, and is “in love” with me. 
and could be a potential dangerous situation for me 
if I were to run into him.
I don’t know if it’s perceived danger or real danger.
Either way it’s danger and I follow my gut. 

In order for me to get scallops I need someone to go with me to this store. 
Because I need protection.

Let that soak in.

Because I need protection.

It’s not safe for me to walk into this store, go to the seafood section
pick out scallops, pay and leave. 

I am not a girl who likes to feel like I need protection.
I don’t like that in this day and age I can’t go where I want, 
alone or otherwise, at any time of day or night, wearing what I want,
acting as morally loose or otherwise… 
because I put myself at risk. 

PEOPLE SHOULDN’T RAPE. 
simple as that. 

and I should be able to fucking go to the store and buy scallops. 

…and that’s just my experience. 
What about the children who LIVE with their abusers and have to sit down to dinner with them everyday?
There are a billion and one situations that just enrage me to the core.
and I will never know them. 
I can’t experience them. 
I can’t walk a mile in your shoes. 
But, I know, without a doubt, that the 
feeling of needing to be saved-
of needing to be protected-
the potential danger-
is a horrible, exhausting, sicking, disgusting feeling. 

My friend went with me to get scallops. 
and they were delicious. 
not worth the tummy trouble to get them,
but delicious. 

I’m tired from being angry all day. 
I feel very run down from being scared
and mad because I felt like I was vulnerable. 
and now I kind of just want to fall apart and be held.
not because I need  to be, but because I want to be. 
It’s a complicated emotion. 

It’s complicated in general.

That’s all for now.
8:41 P.M.

I hope you are safe in your corner of the world. <3  

I don’t know if I told you,
but I planted some seeds this spring.
Not because I have anything faith in myself to be
able to cultivate and grow anything,
but because I thought it would be fun to try.
So I picked a type of plant that pretty much will grow
as long as it exists, since I think it’s a weed.
Herbs.
Specifically basil and parsley.

 

Day One, March 29, 2012 

I planted my seeds in their little cup homes,
put on the lid (to cause greenhouse effects)
and placed them in the kitchen window.
and…. bum bum bum…

Day Ten?, April 7, 2012

I have basil bushes! 
YAY!
This is very exciting for me.
Basil especially since all my favorite foods in life include it.
Like, strawberry basil ice cream, basil with tomatoes, etc.
Yum. Yum. Yum. 

So in other news.
Tomorrow is my 22nd birthday.
and I don’t know how it happened.
Seems like just yesterday I was counting down the years
until I turn 18.
Time marches on without rest, so it’s not surprise.
But, I am legitimately a young adult. 
I should be graduating college and
starting to think about maybe getting married
and traveling and getting my life in order.
I feel younger than that.
Since I’m just not there yet.
I have at least two more years until my bachelor’s degree is finished.
I’m still single as shit.
So, I am going to not interpret 22 as needed to being doing the aforementioned things.
22 is going to be about loving life and myself.
About having fun and not holding back.
To not let people get me down.
To make the best out of every situation.
And not take things for granted.
That’s being an adult.

Speaking of people who have let me down.
I got an interesting message last night
from one particular boy who I haven’t spoken
to in 98ish days.
Def. more than that, but I know for certain def.
that I have not spoken two words to him in 2012.

“I know your probably not my biggest fan. But i miss you. And i have realized how much we drifted apart. Im sorry.”

He has my phone number. 
I’m not even friends with him on Facebook.
The underlying text here to me is something like
“Blah blah blah, I am drunk. Blah blah blah sex. Blah blah blah.”
It doesn’t say anything.
I don’t even know what he’s sorry for.
Sorry for us drifting apart?
Sorry for all the shit he did?

My New Years Resolution is to not talk to him.
and I haven’t responded, yet.
I don’t know if I want to.
Part of me says: FUCK HIM.
and I am trying to let that be the louder part.
It’s so difficult.
but I know I’d have an easier time nailing water to a tree
then trying to rebuild the friendship we had.
I walked down a one way street with him for too long.
I spooned water out of a sinking boat for too long.
A “I’m sorry” Facebook message doesn’t feel like enough.

Especially such a feeble message two days before my birthday.
It feels like a dilemma. 

but, my basil is looking bushy, so I guess all is okay in the world.

That is all for now. 
Love and Hugs. 
11:22 A.M
 

One of my favorite books is “A Million Little Pieces” by James Frey. 
And there is a quote- which has moved my world- and may be why this book is on my list of favorites. (besides the scandal and lies and epicness of the story around the book.)

“After a few minutes I stand and I walk slowly back into the room. Night is leaving and I stand at the window and I watch. Orange and pink streaks sail across the blue of the sky, large birds silhouette themselves against the red of the rising sun, clouds inch their way toward me. I can feel blood dripping from the wounds on my face and I can feel my heart beating and I can feel the weight of my life beginning to drop and I realize why dawn is called mourning.” -James Frey

I can’t explain what it is about this part of the story that moves me so. 
Maybe it’s my intense connection with those few seconds in the morning
right after you wake before you remember the shit from the day before,
when everything is okay.
Those few seconds of calm.

There is a song out currently called Daybreak by Sierra Hull.

“I close my eyes, and feel you alive.
Lord, help me find a way,
To face the day.

Oh daybreak – something’ bout daybreak,
Breaks my heart in so many ways.
Oh daybreak, somethin’ bout the way the day breaks,
And it’s all that I can take, to make it through the day,
After daybreak.”

Now Bailey what’s with all this melancholy mourning/morning bullshit? 

I’m getting there. 

6 years ago today my mom’s best (and maybe only) friend passed away. 
It was a suicide (which some still suspect was actually a murder).
and pretty much it was a terrible time for all of us. 
and I miss this man greatly. 

But, when I reflect back on it, I don’t know if I miss him because
I actually miss him,
or because I miss the pieces of my mom he took with him
when he went. 


…and every time I backspace the scroll bar jumps to the top of the page. 
and I just don’t have the patience to scroll down every single time 
I need to backspace. So you know what? 
Because I am becoming more and more aggravated? 
I’m done. 
Forget you Tumblr. 9:17.
 

I have so many things to tell you
and no motivation to do it.

I planted some basil and parsley.
I had an ice cream cone and it was fantastic.
I have a semi-legit crush on a boy you’ve never been told about. 
-nods-

Consider this a teaser.
I will bbl.

3:52. 

It’s sad when two friends have to part ways. 
It’s painful when you watch them drive away,
knowing that “you can see them anytime you want,”
really are just words to soften the blow. 
Patty Loveless’s “How Can I Help You To Say Goodbye”
comes to mind.

Jackson and I came together after prom.
and I love that little dog,
but after I moved out of my mom’s house
he was mostly living alone.
I made a promise to my brother that
I wouldn’t take Jackson away from him,
but the world turns
and things change
and Jackson needed a new home.
a new family.
new love.

Cause he wasn’t getting it at home with us.
No one was living with him.
and no body had the time or energy to spend with him.

and that wasn’t fair to him.
at all.

So, I found him a new family.
And today she came to pick him up.
So the brudder and I said good-bye.
And packed up his toys and sent him on his way
to go play with his new family;
his new humans.

I am happy about it- I feel relieved.
I couldn’t take care of him and I know that
it wasn’t right of me to hold on to him for the sake
of myself.
It’s bittersweet, but I did the right thing.
I no longer have a connection to my moms house.

If I didn’t work with her,
I would have near little reason to have contact with her.
It’s a strange feeling.
This growing up.

 

My boys. 

<3 

End. 9:01 Pee em