Happy Holidays from Survivors Blog Here

Survivors Blog Here wishes everyone a happy and healthy holiday season. We’ve walked many journeys together in 2019, you’ve shared your life with us and we don’t take your confidence lightly. We look forward to where life takes us during 2020 and want you to know how much we truly appreciate you.

You can always (please!) let me know what’s on your mind, what you would like to see more post on or anything else. I listen, will always respond to you and act when possible.

Melinda

 

Secrets – Part One

Originally posted on Journey Into A on March 26, 2018.

I’m not sure how many times I saw my mom pass out drunk. A handful of the times, she just fell to the floor. I was so little, I didn’t understand what was going on, but I knew it wasn’t good. I’d cry and wail.

Luckily, it never happened (as far as I can remember) when I was alone with her. My old stepdad (he was her boyfriend/fiance for the majority of time that he was in our lives, this story mostly contains bits from before they were legally married, but I call him “my old stepdad”) would always be there. He’d pick her up, wake her as best he could, and move her to the bed or couch.

One time that comes flashing back to me is the time where she decided to leave him. Wasn’t the first time. This time, she’d gotten an apartment not too far from our house. My old stepdad and I went to visit her (why I was with him and not her, I’m not sure of) and they got to fighting again. I think now the reason they fought was because she was drunk, but I’m not entirely certain.

Read the last 182 words here.

Secrets – A Foreword

Originally posted on Journey Into A on March 24, 2018.

Time for another series.

With this one, I want to be clear that these are actual secrets. They’re things from my childhood that I witnessed that I never told anyone about. Not my dad, not my therapist, no one. If I had told them about it, it was years and years later when nothing could come out of it.

I was extremely protective of my mother and knew if I told anyone these things, they’d take me away from her. I was terrified of that. I thought it was the right thing to do. If I had spoken up sooner, maybe I would’ve been able to save myself from the things that pop into my mind now before I go to sleep (that’s mostly because I’ve been releasing things that used to keep me from falling asleep – look up my things that broke me series), but at the same time, I wouldn’t have known I was saving myself from anything at all and instead I would’ve most likely been resentful that I was taken away from my mother.

If I’d spoken up sooner, who knows who I would be. I seriously doubt I’d be the strong person I became through those experiences. I try not to wonder about those things. The point is, these experiences shaped a lot of my life and the decisions I made.

Read the last 79 words here.

Things That Broke Me – Part 4

Originally posted on Journey Into A on March 19, 2018.

First and foremost, I cannot stress enough that my ex had nothing to do with breaking me.

The breakup, however, did.

Let’s start with the beginning and get to where I broke….

I wasn’t happy for a while in my relationship, but thought for so long that it could work itself out or there would be some moment where it just fizzled easily apart. Obviously, neither of those options happened, but what did was a wake up call that I had never anticipated.

I was sitting at my work station on a Friday, just doing what I did everyday. Then, bam! Old Alex appeared in my mind. And she was mad. She’s the girl I had left behind almost 4 years prior, strong and independent, badass. She began listing all the things I had sacrificed and would sacrifice in the future. All of it was true.

Now, she wasn’t entirely mean, but she definitely woke me up. I’ll yell ya, she was definitely scolding me. I could see clearer then than I had for a very, very long time… and I was horrified. I couldn’t believe what I had done and who I had let go of. I had lost who I really was… and for what? Nothing. Nothing in the world was worth giving up that person.

On top of that, I had given up many facets of my life that gave me joy and was going to continue to accept less than what I deserved. So I had not only lost myself, but I had stopped doing things I loved doing and would continue to accept less in my future than what I had previously always wanted. It would be sacrifice after sacrifice made by me and only me (hint: he wasn’t doing any of the sacrifices).

So. Obviously we know what happens next.

I got terrified and absolutely panicked after I broke up with him the first time. Yes, it took two times. After the first time, I told him specific things that needed to change. He tried for a few days, but still it was just one or two things on the list (a list of things very, very easy to do, I wouldn’t ask someone to move mountains if I knew it were impossible). A few more weeks go by and I can’t take it anymore. Old Alex was still in my head keeping me on track. I tell him I had to go and stay with my friend, if you read part one of this series you’d know, he said he loved me out loud for the second time, and I left.

Less than a week goes by and I met with him in our apartment and I ended it. He just sat there and shrugged.

It was 100% the right thing to do and I don’t regret it for a second.

Here’s where I broke…

I had thought I was going to marry this person and have kids with this person and be with him forever and always.

Read the last 283 words here.

The Slayer

Originally posted on Journey Into A on March 14, 2018.

I started Buffy the Vampire Slayer a few nights ago. I had seen some episodes as a kid, but was really too young to have started it at the beginning or to understand a lot of what they were talking about. I guess I had initially watched after a few seasons, I remember thinking she was so cool.

Watching it now is probably a much different experience than those who had when it first aired, but I think it’s just the right time for me. The music is great, the sets, the outfits, the hair- all nostalgic for me! And Sarah…. Sarah Michelle Gellar! Beautiful and badass.

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Read the last 80 words here.

The Thing Is…

Originally posted on March 8, 2018 on Journey Into A.

The thing is, I tried to end it. I tried to end it TWICE just two weeks prior to you ending it, but you wouldn’t let me. You. wouldn’t. let. me. When you do something like that, not wanting them to end it, it gives a person hope. It makes them think that you’re not willing to let go and want to figure things out (which is also what you said, so that just confirms it).

The thing is, you decided to do it at the wrong time. For weeks, I was excited to go to that event and you decide, halfway through, that then’s the time to end things. You waited just long enough to see your friends. You knew a bunch of my friends were there and they were going on next. You didn’t think it would ruin my night?

Read the last 118 words here.

Things That Broke Me – Part 3

Originally posted on Feb. 24, 2018 on Journey Into A.

Here we are with the next bit to release…

This one stems from good ol’ Valentine’s Day. Basically Old Faithful for pain.

Valentine’s is one of those days that makes you think about what has happened on all the previous ones, or at least that’s what happens for me. I’ve been hurt on more Valentine’s Days than not. I’m half terrified of the day each year.

Let’s start small. A high school boyfriend avoided me on VD and then called me from Ruby’s Diner that night and invited me to Ruby’s all in the same breath as when he said that I couldn’t possibly make it there in time to order and eat before his mom would pick him up… Lame.

One guy I dated took me to see “He’s Just Not That Into You” and then we sat in his car for over an hour after just listening to Dane Cook. He just turned up the volume or didn’t respond when I’d try to talk. I left the next morning for a week to NY and there was no “I miss you” or anything. That blew.

One year, a boyfriend broke up with me on VD saying that he’d “rather smoke weed than be with [me]”. Now, I had no problems with him smoking weed, but he had told me that he wanted to quit smoking and then would lie and sneak behind my back. All I ever wanted was honesty. He’s also one that used to ridicule my short hair after he dumped me so there’s not much lost in that relationship, but that experience on VD sucked.

Read the last 179 words here.

Like You Once Did

Originally posted on Feb. 23, 2018 on Journey Into A.

 

I want someone to look at me the way you once did

I want their hands to brush aside the hair from covering my face like yours once did

I want their arms wrapped tightly around me like yours once did

I want their smile at me to exude and radiate like yours once did

I want to make them laugh like you once did

I want them to say sweet things like you once did

I want to dance happily together like we once did

I don’t want to feel this loneliness when I remember that I could’ve had what I once did

things that broke me – part 1

After some recent painful nights, I thought up the idea to create a series where I can release some of the things that continue to haunt me. I am trying to change myself, trying to be more positive, and change my way of thinking for the better. This is my way of cleansing myself and making way for beautiful change.

Let’s begin with one of the toughest ones.

I was in a relationship with someone for close to 4 years and he told me “I love you” out loud twice. There were times where I’d ask him to say it and he’d mumble it, but I rarely asked because it made me feel so pathetic even having to ask. The first time he said it on his own was when I tried to break up with him the first time (a month before actually ending it) and then the second time was right before I walked out the door for good.

His reasoning for not being able to say it was that his ex had “fucked with his mind for over a year”. At first, I understood that, but after we moved in together (after a year) and then more years stacked on to us being together, it felt more and more ridiculous and got more and more painful for me. I hate telling people about this whole thing because I still feel like an idiot. Who would put up with that?

I said it almost every day. Sometimes, I’d try to see how long I could go without saying it and I’d only last about 2 days. Why did I try not to say it? Because saying “I love you” to someone and NEVER getting an “I love you” back is so. fucking. painful. After a while, I felt embarrassed at myself each time I would say it.

Oh and we’re not talking about an agreed upon thing here. It’s not something that was ever okay with me and it was brought up many times. Some people have an understanding or whatever and that’s fine, but it’s not fine when it’s not agreed upon by both people.

Read the last 105 words here.

Strange Dream #09

Art by Rob Goldstein

Reprocessed Public Domain Publicity Shot 

I am born in the slums of a jungle;

It is hot and I am always thirsty.

I drink water from the fountain

marked Colored.

It has magic that quenches

my thirst.

My neighbors say

the fountain is

diseased

But that was before

then became now.

At 3 AM

the sophisticates

of the jungle

jabber and howl.

“Who do you love most,” asks God.

“Jayne Mansfield,” says Max.

“And why is that?” God is cleverly
all-knowing.

“She’s dead.” Max replies.


RG

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What Makes a Memory, and Why

Dear Readers of Survival,
I have neglected this site, as well as my own as of late. The past years dedication to WP had seriously eaten in to my obligations as a homemaker and Mom. I have decided to slow down, a lot. However, this question/thought hit me the other night. I hope you will be able to add to it!!! Much love, Heather

Pondering…..

I sit quietly alone on my terrace watching the sun set on the day, as I have done oh so many times before. There is one particular sunset I do recall. Though it was only about 4 years ago, the night was still, the air a pleasant spring time damp. Torches of candle flame stood tall without nary a breeze to fight. This sunset is a memory. I ask myself just when it became so and just why. What was so different than all of the other nights when most probably, the setting was just the same? I ask myself “Will tonight become a memory and if so, when?”

When does an event cross the line and become embedded in our hearts or mind. Why is a memory thought as one a day later, but forgotten with time? We use the terminology in the present that it will “make a great memory”. Such a fun time, a sad time, an unexpected moment, but does it always make the cut, does it really? No, it doesn’t. We forget it. We can possibly recall it with help, but it is not embedded as a memory free for the taking.

I can recall a time when I was about 4 years old popping tar bubbles on a telephone pole one hot summer day. Why? Was it the sensation of the goo on my fingers that nothing else ever matched? What was it? Why is this afternoon of my life still so vivid? The first Beatle album I ever listened to and just exactly where and how I was sitting on the floor of my neighbor’s bedroom at the tender age of about 6. When my dog got sprayed by a skunk. I am sure that memory and the tomato bath she received that night was perhaps distinctly because of the odor I encountered all but once in my life.

People. I have memories of people whose life crossed mine for not more than 10 heartbeats of my own life. Why them? What subconscious meaning did they give me? Something, for sure. Why do I recall them now? Today? Why do my friends have vivid memories of times with me and I, myself, have no recollection of that moment?

The mind and the way it files and retains events selectively is astonishing. Are memories to treasure, to learn from, or to keep a mental note on just how fast time flies? A marker for where we were then and where we are now? As a reminder of simpler days, of harder ones, as ones we didn’t even notice or appreciate in their presence (Hence, a dog’s tomato bath). Will this evening 10 years from now be a memory? I doubt it, but I never expected tar popping to be one either.

Memories, What do you think???