Solace; an adventure away from the world Part 1- the Doldrums.

The final map including locations and distances is shown above.

We packed for about 2 hours before we left.  We brought a tent, some camping supplies, some clothing, a few items of personal effect.  Both being technophiles, I wasn't sure how a whole week without our phones was going to go.  I knew I *could* do it, I had before, but Lucien I wasn't so sure about.  He said he was excited to see the adventures I had planned, but being an inexperienced camper, and having never been west of the Sault, I wasn't sure what to expect of him.  I had nothing to worry about.

We left the morning of July 9th and headed for the land above the bridge.  The weather was warm, and we wore soft smiles on our faces as our troubles faded further and further from our immediate thoughts.  Our talks were excited quips back and forth until about Bay City, where our cell service started to die, (we were using our phones for music.)
So, at Bay City, the ipod came out and we played music I had picked up, a random assortment from Janelle Monae to Coheed and Cambria, and of course, everything in between.

As we got ready to cross the bridge, I offered to drive, but Lucien said he was able.

I had our path memorized; our first destination was a place I had been many times before with Paul and the kids.  I had mixed feelings about going there.  I wanted to see it, to be there, to breathe the air of the place, but I didn't want the old feelings to come back, and the sadness of missing my children.  I breathed deep of the cigarette I had lit and guided Lucien on; M-123, to Paradise Michigan.

We hit the lower falls of Taquaminon first, a small gentle rapids.  Luci's breath was taken away, I kept hearing the giggles of my brood, who were several hundred miles away.  I caught onto Luci's enthusiasm though, and soon we were both giggling like children, running from view to view.  I even took him about a half a mile onto the North Country Trail.  We bounded back up the trail and decided to head to the campground to make camp.

Lucien on the North Country Trail near Lower Taquaminon Falls.

We had a small amount of trouble finding the campground I had reserved, but we had camp set up within an hour of arriving.  We decided to pick up a few things at the grocery store, then headed to Whitefish Point.  We got there just before sunset.
I thought of the previous times I had been there, how it was always cloudy and grey, and how my companions would all disappear to do their own thing, there I was, hand in hand with Lucien, who was becoming a bit grumpy due to the blackflies and the lack of rest and food.  He took some absolutely amazing photos however, and we headed back to camp to make a fire and cook hot dogs.

Sunset at Whitefish Point

We met up with a couple, their kids and their brother in law from Grand Rapids, whom we shouted jokes back and forth with all evening regarding the size of our campfire compared with theirs.  We retired about 11pm, but their talks and drunken laughter lasted until wee into the morning.

The first night was cold and our mattress was not inflated all of the way, I slept well, but poor Lucien slept terribly.


We woke up the next morning, he sleep deprived and unhappy, I had a craving for coffee and didn't want to make a fire, so I headed to town to pick up breakfast for us.
I arrived to find camp completely taken down and Luci asleep on the picnic table.
I left him his breakfast and wandered off into the woods.  I got about a forth of a mile up the trail before I decided to turn back and check on him.
He was ready to go this time.  We decided to head to the upper falls hand in hand.

Upper Taquaminion Falls

I felt the presence of my sons and my ex there, from happier times from before he went mad, I felt myself too, laughing while running away from my parents, a full canteen when I was 16.
We decided to hit Marquette, in particular a park I went to as a young child, and was taken to once in my early teens.  We went by way of Munising.

Iron out the wrinkles: Autism Speaks and it's "advocacy"

Don't get me wrong.  I'm all for support of autistic people.  We should be supporting them, though... Not trying to fix them.

Read this.  Have a look, let it sink in.

http://autisticadvocacy.org/2014/01/2013-joint-letter-to-the-sponsors-of-autism-speaks/

I'm on the spectrum.  I have a form of autism called "dyspraxia".  Back when I was diagnosed at the age of 6, it was called a "learning disability", because the major way that it operated affected my learning.

See, I couldn't write a legible thing.  No one could read my handwriting.  It was widely known I had a much larger than average vocabulary, but I just couldn't EXPRESS myself.  The school actually bought my family a computer, an Apple IIe, so that I could write.  I hated writing as a child, now it is something I love.

But adding to the other difficulties, there are some social aspects of the disorder which caused me a lot of trouble in school.
I took things literally.

One kid, his name was Ricky, called me a fox in Kindergarten.  I was offended and really upset.  I ran home crying to my mother saying that someone had called me a fox, and I certainly was not that furry!  Or had 4 paws, or a tail, or anything that resembled a fox what so ever.  My mother was confused, but then when she realized what I was thinking, she chuckled and said "he thinks you're pretty, honey."

In all of my medical documentation of that era, there is a running theme of "above average intelligence" but there is also a running them of "beautiful little girl".  "This beautiful six year old girl...[medical jargon]"

Up until a few months ago, I had never seen the paperwork, my parents never told me what I should and should not be able to do.  They always just told me to try my best, to work my hardest, and that things may take me a bit longer, but that's ok.  "Just take your time and you'll do just fine honey."  They taught me perseverance.

Another part of my Autism is the fact I am hypersensitive, but with that hypersensitivity comes the ability to be very in touch with my emotions, something that has served me well in this past year especially, but also in my life.

I'm not saying I'm a more "evolved" human being, or something like that.  I'm just different.  I think of things differently, I process things differently, and you know what?  As long as I am not hurting anyone, my differences are perfectly ok, and in fact, are part of what makes me who I am.

In the anime "FLCL", there is a running theme of a huge iron that serves as a factory on a river.
They refer to "Ironing out the wrinkles."  Taking all of the individuality out of a person, making them "ordinary."  That thought is dreadful.  Mr. Rogers wouldn't be impressed folks.  He told all of us he loved us just the way we are.  And yes, he meant it.  If you flatten the image, how dull it becomes!

So, organizations that wish to "eradicate autism", a disorder that is pretty much a different way of thinking and feeling, makes me angry.  Those who are affected who can't speak?  They still have feelings, they still find ways to express how they feel about things, they are still HUMAN, and most of them are pretty darn happy with who they are.  They know they think differently, and in most cases, don't care to think like you at all.  They are happy with their mind and where it wanders to.

If you are a parent to one of these wonderful non-neurotypical individuals, cherish them, love them, listen to them, and if they can't express what they are feeling to you, try another way.  Try handing them a notepad and colored pencils and tell them just to draw whatever they feel like drawing, show them music, show them art, read to them, interact with them, and if they are giving you signals they need to be left alone, leave them alone, but check in every now and again.  When they are done in their own little world, they don't always know how to tell you that.  And you don't have to say anything to them, just stoop quietly somewhere in the room.  This says "I'm listening and I'm waiting for you to come out."  And they will.

My oldest son is autistic and falls on the spectrum at what would have been called "Asperger's disorder".  He is a loveable kid with a lot of energy, who just likes to talk about the same 5 things over and over again, BUT, he's brilliant.  There isn't a subject in school that I think could get the better of him.  Emotional intelligence though?  Yeah, that's sorely lacking.  He can't accurately express his disappointment, and it comes out as rage and temper tantrums, screaming again and again "it's not fair!"
Yeah kiddo, hate to say it, life isn't fair.

I tried to protect you guys, but because my social queues weren't what they should have been, I missed obvious signs of pedophilia in someone we lived with, and the state took you away.  What's fair about that?
Nothing, because life isn't fair.

Yes, the state can take your kids away because you are autistic.  And THAT, is something to scream about, and THAT, is the fault of these misguided advocacy organizations telling the government that having your brain work differently is a PROBLEM and should be eradicated.  If you are harming no one, it should not matter how your brain works.  If you are causing harm to someone, then we should start talking about law and how that comes into play.  But shit, I can barely tell if someone wants to be my friend or murder me, how am I supposed to know how to spot someone with an intangible disease that half of the time psychologists, who by the way are trained to spot these things, cannot even determine reliably?

People fear and attack what they don't understand, like the witch hunts in Salem in the 1700's.  Or an earlier example, the dark.

Now, I know that much of what I am saying will likely get misinterpreted.  I'm ok with that.  These are my opinions, and I am sharing them knowing that not everyone will agree... Let's just not be dicks about it, ok?

Adventures in turning off the big fan

"Turn off the big fan outside, would you?"
He asked.  He was my colleague and mentor at work, and I had gotten into the habit of writing him when I got home because at least  someone cared that I had arrived safely.  My husband seldom noticed.
I didn't decide to take the adventure, so much as the adventure chose me.

Adventure is a kind way to put it.

A few days later, inklings came, which made me suspect that everything I knew and came to accept as true weren't, and that my greatest nightmare had come real.
And I decided to go and turn off the fan.

My solid backing, family who helped me erect my building of brick and stone, I stepped out of the safe confines of my house and jumped.  

The wind was intense, I watched my husband blow away, my adopted sister and nephews next, her boyfriend, an old friend of mine, blowing past, beyond where I could reach them.

I was in a wind tunnel.  I started grabbing wildly for familiarity, my sons next, I got a hold of them, but could not hang on, my heart broke, and I stumbled.

Cat saw me and threw a rope, I grabbed on, still trying to grab my boys, my mom, still trying to stand against the wind, mentor with cleats dug in, standing behind me, trying to hold me up, he blew away.

My eyes hurt from the dirt in the wind, tears fell.

In the swirling noise of the void, days faded into one another, more crazy random things blew my way.  I grew tired.

George came up behind me and showed me how to cinch the rope around my waist.  He showed me how to brace for the gusts and how to breathe in the madness without allowing it to consume me.  I tried to lean heavily on him, and he allowed himself to be blown away, "That's not the point of the exercise, Dee.  You can't change it, so embrace it."

I sat clinging to the rope for dear life.

But then, the fatigue set it, the horrible, horrible fatigue that sets in after holding a rope for 6 months.  And free time, and the want to write.

I simply let go of the rope, I could not hold on anymore.

I landed on my feet, "thunk, thunk" the pain in my knees astounding.  I sat on the cool earth, opened my eyes and found myself in the hookah lounge, computer in front of me, novel nearly written.

A chat open with a man named Steven, and the wind had all but stopped.

Just when I thought the whole thing was a dream, George came up to check on me with a smile on his face while rolling a cigarette.

Cat came after that, and John (her then boyfriend), and the other hookah bar staff, I had made friends somehow... and a few days later Steven and I went on our first date.

These days, the wind gusts, but doesn't carry me away.  I hold Steven's hand, we shoulder each others burdens.  My friends are in a v shape behind me, always ready to catch me.  They were at the bottom of the ravine the whole time, waiting.  Family, waiting.  

And to the wind, I say thank you for your gifts.

To the abyss, I say thank you for catching my family and friends.

And to the beyond, I thank you for your bliss.

Braided blue ribbons: Child Abuse Prevention Month

If you've stumbled upon this, you are most likely a friend.  I'm asking for specific help for a specific cause.
Namely, my daughter.

It came out in late July last year that my ex husband had been sexually abusing my daughter from the time she was 4 years old onward, under my nose, whilst I was asleep at night.

She is now 14.  This brave young lady deserves our praise, and needs our support.

Last month, she (I am specifically not using her name until she gives me the ok to do so,) was asked to discuss the details of the abuse in class.  She prepared a presentation and presented it to the class.
She talked about the abuse, what happened, the legal proceedings regarding it, and how I lost my children due to my ignorance in the issue.

What happened afterward surprised even me.

The children in the class started calling her names.

She wrote the names on her arm.  

She also wrote some inspirational quotes to keep herself going.

Her instructor was busy and unaware of the bullying.

Her Father pulled her out of the school almost immediately afterward, and sent her to a new school district.  (This was the last straw, she was not happy in the district due to the heavy scrutiny she received from classmates on other issues.) 

I want her to know she is supported by a lot of people, and that her story is not one of defeat, but one of success and overcoming the odds.  I want her to feel empowered, surrounded and protected by the community at large.
It is important in the case of child sexual abuse that the victim be encouraged to tell his or her story, so that they can move beyond it and become the people they need to be.

This is a braided blue ribbon, it is the ribbon associated with child sexual abuse to honor and remember the victims.  I think it should be more than this.  I think, if you wear this ribbon and it's braided in such a fashion, children should know they can come to you with their problems.  They should know that you are a safe adult who is familiar with the issues and moreover will protect them if they come to talk to you about it.

In the case of my daughter's ribbon, it is bound together with safety pins, as she professes to be a bit of a "goth/punk" gal.

Here's the thing.  My daughter's abuser is attempting an appeal.  I do not have exact dates and times yet, but, I was wondering, could we all agree to wear braided blue ribbons that day?  Her attacker needs to remain behind bars; in just the few months he's been gone, she's made tremendous strides in therapy and as a person.  She finally feels safe.  I need her to know she's going to be safe as long as we have something to say about it.

The past month, and a call for help.

If you've come to this blog, and do not know me from a hole in the ground, I understand.  I'm not looking to cause trouble.  I'm not looking to become the bane of the inter-tubes.  I'm asking for financial and emotional aid for a problem that has come up in my life.  I'm a fairly private person.  I don't want to hang those around me who have helped me.  All I am asking is, if you don't have anything nice to say, please keep your opinions to yourself.  

Truth be told, you don't know me or what I've been facing.  I know not everyone is going to be on my side.  I did the right thing.  I could have said nothing to the state, not encouraged my husband to turn himself in, and right now, I'd be sitting comfortably with my children, but that wouldn't have been the right thing to do.  I appreciate all those who are with me.

For those of you who don't know...  Below is the newspaper article referring to the situation, I'm being somewhat vague because this involves my children.

My life on the evening news

Child Protective Services did investigate a few times, but found, just as I did, that there didn't seem to be a problem...  When the accused came to me on July 31st and told me everything he did, I understood what had to be done, and did my best.  I encouraged the accused to turn himself in, after a few crazy moments, he did the right thing.  I have not seen him since Aug 1st, when he was locked up for his crimes.

Today, I was told by CPS that they were moving to terminate my parental rights for a "Failure to protect"  What this means is, I knew something was wrong and allowed the abuse to occur anyway.  Well, as I said, when CPS came out to the house a few times and found nothing out of order... So I believed everything was ok.  It wasn't until the accused told me that abuse HAD occurred that I believed otherwise.  My agent even said he felt this was completely wrong, but he had to do his job, and according to the computer, this is what he had to do. NO HUMAN DECISION MADE.  Let that sink in for a minute.  He left it up to a bloody computer whether or not my kids would be taken from me, he left it up to a computer as to whether or not my life would be forever impacted by being added to the Central Registry for Child Abuse in Michigan. If I lose the job I have now, I will be unable to get employment, because, in spite of what the CPS worker believes, every possible employer looks at that registry before hiring.  My career is over if I lose my job right now, and I am close to losing my job.  I will be able to get my name removed from the registry, provided I can jump through hoops the way CPS feels I should.

I have already retained a reasonable lawyer who has been doing work for my family for years, but I need help affording the costs of it. 

I need to know I have support out there.  I need to know that I did the right thing to throw my husband in jail, I need to know that I am not a bad Mom in spite of what the state's fancy computer thinks.  If you stand with me, please let me know it, drop me a letter, a comment, if you can afford to help me financially, please help me Here on Fundrazr.

I need my family, my friends and my community right now.  Please help me?

Tommy, my big brother.

Every day, when my older brother came home from school, I would greet him at our door.  He is 12 years my senior, and was in high school in my first memories.

I had a traditional way of greeting him when he came home from school.  I'd say, "HI TOMMY!" then I'd punch him.  Well, as a 4 year old I was about the exact height that a 16 year old boy does NOT want to be punched at.  I always ended up punching him in the crotch, and he'd always end up flying a few feet back, and he'd be hurt, but I'd laugh.

And this was the way of things.  

Later, when I was four, my brother was watching me while my parents were out doing some random thing, he made me grilled cheese and soup, and while he was pouring soup, some ended up on my shoulder and burning me.  I had a pretty bad burn for a few weeks, and he felt totally awful about it.  He tried not to let me know how much it bothered him, but that night, after I was supposed to be sleeping, I could hear him talking to Mom about it.

As my sister, my brother and I got older, we got a sick and twisted delight out of irritating the living hell out of one another.  Tommy would bring a girl over, and Nikki, (my older sister) and I would sit between them and start "boys vs. girls" comments.  This inevitably lead to my brother's girlfriend at the time teaming up with my sister and I, and her telling him "stop picking on your poor, defenseless baby sisters!"  And we'd giggle, a LOT.  Cackle, in fact.  In those days, there was a lot of cackling.

On Christmas mornings, we had this Moose that played Christmas Carols.  Anyone who knows my brother knows he doesn't always wake up in the most pleasant way.  My parents had a rule: No opening presents until Tommy is awake.  My sister and I knew this rule well, and also knew that Tommy woke similarly to a rabid bear and so, we would take the Moose, (its name was "Chris-Moose") and we'd come down the stairs...
So Tommy would here the "Thump, Thump, Thump, Thump" of our feet
Then he'd hear the Moose, which got more and more out of tune each year...
We'd start it, and throw it like a hand grenade and run like gazelles.
And the out of tune Moose would fly through the air, and would always manage to hit my brother straight in the face.
Good thing that always made him laugh!

Or then, there were the summer nights when Tommy would have a bunch of friends over, and we would play Risk in our basement for hours and hours on end, and usually Tommy's friend would win, but not always.  

And as Tom got older and didn't always have a date to bring with him to sledding, bonfires, concerts and movies, he'd bring me along instead.  I was his nearly constant companion, I always looked forward to spending time with him.  I always felt special when I was with him, like I was the coolest little kid around, because I had all of these adult friends and they all thought I was cool, too.

The year I turned 18 and graduated high school, my parents went through a pretty ugly divorce.  At the head of it, when my parents started divvying up their things, Tom was instrumental at convincing my parents to allow me to take a 12 hour greyhound bus trip by myself to go see my best friend in Minneapolis.  The day before I went, my parents were having a really awful day and Tom took me out of the house.  First, he brought me to the Detroit Yacht Club to visit an old friend of his, then he took me to a bonfire.  There was lots of swimming and fun, and a minor amount of drinking.  He did all of this to GET ME AWAY from things that would undoubtedly cause me psychological damage.

He was there for the birth of all four of my kids, (well, soon afterward anyway.)
My big brother has always, ALWAYS taken care of me.

Now, he's in the hospital, has no insurance, and is missing gigs because of his illness.  This was the weekend he was finally going to be in the "Black" again as far as money, and he can't do his gigs, plus he's got all these medical bills piling up.  

What ELSE could I do?  I had to help him!  So, I started trying to come up with creative ways to get him money, and therefore all of this activity that people have been seeing around facebook.

So, with the help of my brother's wonderful community of friends, we've created a Bake Sale, Craft night, and silent auction to help raise money for my wonderful brother.  If you are on facebook and you are interested in going to help, the event can be found Here!

Otherwise, if you want to help out but aren't into that whole "social interaction" thing, here are a few links to directly donate to the cause. 

Go fund me: Help Dr. Toon!Paypal

Thank you very much for reading my sappy little story!

Love is in the air, no seriously!

So, I read this dandy little article today, take a look:

http://edition.cnn.com/2013/01/24/health/love-psychology-book/index.html

It's a very interesting take on love.  It asserts that love is a micro-movement in the body and brain. Which makes sense as love is, at it's very core a chemical reaction.

So, what's the best way to see this?

The article talks about the importance of eye contact.  Yeah, it's uncomfortable for some and kind of annoying, but...  If eye contact makes life that much easier for other folks around you...  It's worth it, no?

Think about your family for example.  Your kids.  What do you tell them when you want them to pay attention?

"Look at me young lady/man when I am speaking to you!"  What about, if in that moment, you take a deep breath and look your kiddo in the eyes.  You can't stay mad, even if there are poop stains in their bedroom everywhere and your whole house smells like crap.

It's so important for us to make a deep connection with our children, to let them know they are cared for, that you have their back no matter what happens.  It's so important for us, later in our lives, have that kind of feeling to fall back on when we feel insecure.

But, back to this...  it says also in this article that to close yourself off from people outside of your social and family circle is severely constraining your opportunities to feel love.  Love is not exclusive, it says.

It also says that people who feel loved on a regular basis are generally healthier.

Some people feel they must close themselves off, that they shouldn't be social, that they shouldn't look people in the eye... Well... All I'm saying is, that's not always the best way to deal with life.

SMILE, make eye contact, allow yourself to give a little to other people, ALL other people, friends, lovers, children, children's teachers, co-workers, and neighbors...

The world needs love, and it's everywhere, so go out and take it.