NOTHING MATTERS MORE THAN OUR STORIES

This post is a rather old one, but it cried out to me again today for a repost so here it is.

I love surfing around the blogosphere because I like crave that feeling of finding that one special blog worthy of mention, of recognition, of deep introspection. After wading through a multitude of cute family-related blogs, yummy cooking blogs, breath-taking photography blogs, reactionary religious and political blogs, unfeigned poetry blogs and all rest of the infinite spectrum of blogs that reside out here in cyberspace, I occasionally stumble upon a blog that speaks to, screams at implores me personally to say something about it and its author. Unfortunately, most of the blogs I "discover" are ones that the authors have abandoned and their voice is lost. Abandonment is something I completely understand. Most people who have blogged for any length of time have either contemplated fading into the cold, darkness of cyberspace never to be heard from again or have taken a "vacation" from time to time.

The Rest Is Still Unwritten was last updated in 2012 with a post titled Nothing Matters More Than Our Stories. David Stehle was absolutely correct in stating nothing matters more than our stories whether we know it or not. We all have a story to tell and no one ever knows what type of impact our words will have on someone else or when that impact might happen. I have a blogging kindred spirit (you know who you are) that is hands down the most talented person I know. He claims he has nothing of value to say, but I disagree. I have read his "stories" and I have felt his words. He "hooked" me a very long time ago! I can only hope that he always returns home from his "vacations" and that he never permanently fades into the darkness of cyberspace. Over the years I have grown to love him and when he is absent, I feel the void.

Below are David Stehle's heartfelt words from his abandoned blog:

                           Nothing Matters More Than Our Stories

In times of national crisis we often think, "My stories don’t matter – this isn’t about me" or "I'll stay quiet because I'm somewhere in the middle of the obnoxious people raging on TV." The truth is that in the midst of tragedy nothing matters more than our stories. Our complex, nuanced stories are the path to healing and change. They are the truth and there's no better foundation for change than the truth. I'd love to hear your thoughts and stories. - Brene Brown

This isn't working.

This.

What we are doing as a society, a country, as human beings. It is NOT working!

And when things aren't working, shouldn't we change things?

When people talk about school shootings they talk about guns. But I don't want to debate gun control. I'm not pro-gun anymore than I'm anti-gun. I've never owned a gun and thank God my parents never have either. Because if they had I wouldn't be here today writing this post.

"He was fearless in his pursuit of happiness and life.

He earned his ripped jeans and missing two front teeth."

Daniel Barden (age 7)

I attempted suicide at age 12 - with a steak knife of all things. But I searched the house first for a gun. If I had found one, you better believe I would have sucked on that barrel and squeezed without giving it a second thought. After all, even at age 12 I knew it was the best tool for the job.

While I had no intention of hurting anyone else, I had every intention of hurting myself. And I did. Without a rational thought. That's what happens when you are in the midst of making a deadly, permanent decision. All fear, sadness, and anger disappears. You become oddly calm. And thoroughly numb. Or at least I did.

If we're going to talk about gun control, it's just as important we talk about mental illness.

While I don't see any logical reason why a person needs to own an assault rifle and feel they should be banned, I'm not about to rip a standard rifle out of a hunter's hands (punishing him) simply because other people can't act responsibly. But let's face the facts. There have been over 70 school shootings since 1994. 70! Obviously there's a lot of sick kids out there. I should know because I was one of them. And what we are doing now as a society, a country, as human beings…it is NOT working!

According to NAMI (National Alliance on Mental Illness), mental illness typically strikes young people in their most productive years, 16-25. Families from all walks of life are affected regardless of age, race, income, religion, or education. Most shocking, 1 in 4 American families has a relative who has a mental illness. 1 in 4!

So what was my deal? Not much. I was just a deeply depressed kid who didn't know how to open up. I don't think that fits the crazy label. But depression is considered a mental illness. And medically speaking, one could have labeled me mentally ill. And that's the problem. Because mental illness has such an ugly stigma attached to it, I was terrified to get help. I was terrified to tell anyone how I felt. I was terrified of being seen as C-R-A-Z-Y!

It's easier to get an assault rifle than adequate mental health care. And for shooter Adam Lanza it was easier to slaughter 20 kindergartners and 1st graders than to say "hey, I need some help." Like most, I'm still processing the horror that took place at Sandy Hook. I'm heartbroken for 26 families of victims I've never met and for a community I've never visited. And of course, I'm furious at the killer!

Now I'm going to ask you to do something you'll hate me for. I want you to send light and love not just to the 26 victims and their families, but to the killer and his family too. To the entire Sandy Hook community. To every community that has suffered a mass shooting. To every victim. To every victim's family. And yes, even to every killer and their family.

Praying for a murderer is hard. Honestly, it's damn near impossible! But in doing so, I realize I'm also praying for the mentally ill. Praying for every kid like me who was/is terrified of being seen as crazy and didn't/doesn't have the strength to ask for help. Helping them (and myself) today when I failed to help them (and myself) back then. Making right MY wrongs. Making right OUR wrongs. Healing together.

If that is asking too much, and I know it is, then please consider doing one random act of kindness in memory of one of the 20 children lost. That way you can put back in the world the same light and love each of their short lives brought into it. I'm choosing Daniel.

Because as we all continue to process Sandy Hook, one question in particular weighs on my mind…

What if we tackled mental illness the same way little Daniel tackled things? Fearless in the pursuit of happiness and life.

As Brene Brown said above, I too would love to hear your thoughts and stories.

Posted 18th December 2012 by David Stehle

Labels: Taboo Topics

DREAM A LITTLE DREAM FOR ME

Lately, I've been thinking a lot about dreams. No, not the kind you have at night. Not the ones that somehow always leave you in breathless anticipation and seem to dissipate as soon as a person awakens. No, the dreams that have captured my thoughts are the ones that take root during a lifetime and seem to stick with you. I've always envied those people who have the drive and stamina to make their dreams come true. I've often wondered why I seem to lack that drive and stamina. Why do things always seem just slightly out of reach? Why do my "projects" lay shamefully incomplete? Am I really that clueless as to how to succeed in life or are unfulfilled dreams symptomatic of people with addiction problems? While cruising around the blogosphere I stumbled upon contemplating dreams. This person wrote:

letting go of dreams, hopes...aspirations can be ....be oddly painful... dreams are like the weeds in the garden of your mind. while you are busy planting the goals for future... dreams plant themselves in ...and take root. while you need to lavish time and attention to get ideas and goals to take root and flourish... dreams flourish without the slightest of attention... without any ray of light. impossible dreams, ones you *know* don't make any sense and will probably never come true are the absolute worst kind of weeds. they spread their roots deep into the underground terrain of your mind making pulling them out an herculean task... they muddle up your thinking... leaving small paper cut wounds when you stumble across them without expecting to in the least.

Gratitude statement: I'm not so sure of how grateful I can actually be since I have never allowed any of my dreams to come true. But I can say I'm thankful I still have some dreams! Those are the ones not even Agent Orange can kill. 

* Repost from January 26, 2011

WHAT EVIL LURKS IN THE HEART OF MILDRED?

When I first made this discovery I was like the Tasmanian Devil I was so mad.  It's hard to keep your cool when you want to lash out and do something to a person, but you know there's nothing you can do and it's so frustrating you want to pull your own hair out.  So, you sit there fuming for awhile saying some very colorful language and then you slowly calm down because there's no point in staying angry. [grumble, grumble, grumble....and finally a huge sigh]

When the troll first appeared on my blog I was mildly irritated. At first, I hoped the person would simply go away, but that didn't happen. Obviously, trolls want to be annoying and only go away when blocked or impeached! The subject matter the troll selected to discuss in the comment section of my blog was what I referred to as a "British cum dumpster."  I won't mention the cum dumpster's whole name and I will get into that reason for that shortly, but when I googled that person I found out she was some 1980's porn star. Her first name is Pauline.

Like many people out here I had my settings on my blog set so anyone could leave a comment, but when this troll wouldn't go away, I changed my comment settings so only people with a Google account would be able to comment on my blog. All this change did was eliminate people from leaving anonymous comments. So far, this first step up in security eliminated the troll. So far so good!

Every now and then I check the "Traffic Sources" to my blog. When I did this a few days ago, this is when the Tasmanian Devil came spinning like a top out of control. The first URL I didn't recognize (it had the name monica29 in it), and it had like 175 hits on it coming to my blog. The second and third URL's I did recognize and had fewer hits than the first. I clicked on the first URL to find out what it was and was absolutely stunned when the page opened to a porn site. Nothing about the URL indicated it would be a porn site or I wouldn't have clicked on it. There I sit looking at a site called Chatubate (spelled wrong for obvious reasons).

After having a huge WTF??? moment I figured out why my blog was tied to this porn site. You see, when the dear troll kept referencing this British cum dumpster by name in each comment he left on my blog, it left a "footprint" for the search engine robots to index. I don't know how often they make their rounds throughout the internet, but what I should have done which I didn't do initially was delete all the trolls comments. I did however go back yesterday and delete everything he wrote. Hopefully, this will correct the problem in the future. For now, Mildred Ratched Memoirs is linked to Chatubate (again spelled the wrong way) because the British cum dumpster was mentioned by that darling troll. I wonder if his name was Donald! hmmmm! Wouldn't that be a hoot?

If this idiot has gone to any of your blogs, you might want to check your traffic sources, too under your stats and see if your blog is linked to any sites you don't recognize. I told Martha that I was going to write a blog post pitching a holy old fit about this troll and what he did, but why bother? He's just a little internet maggot that isn't worth the time and effort and besides I don't think I know enough bad language to describe him adequately.

VISIT A FELLOW BLOGGER

I've been a little too wrapped up in politics lately until Jennifer left a comment on my last blog post and I went to her blog Sparrow Tree Journal to repay the visit and got blown right out of my chair.

She wrote a moving post titled Shocking about a student whose mother committed suicide. The post rattled me and made me realize how fragile we all are. You never know from day to day what's going to happen and who looks okay and who doesn't. Don't ever take anyone's mental health for granted. Please go to her blog and leave a comment. Thanks!

Great Expectations

I'm going to keep this short and sweet and fill this with as little drama as possible. I'm sure the people who read this blog and/or comment here have noticed there's a troll who has attempted to hijack the comment section on a few posts. I just changed my blog settings from allowing anyone to comment on my blog posts to allowing only people who have a Google account. Hopefully, this at least will prevent said troll from lurking in anonymity and quite frankly, bugging the hell out of me by rambling on about some British chick he'd like to bang.  If this troll chooses to stick around and to continue to dazzle everyone with his comedic genius then he'll have to do so with his actual Google account.  

Just so everyone is clear about my expectations... If you come here to read, then read. If you come here to read and comment, then read and comment, BUT please stay on topic.  If you need to contact me or ask me a question that doesn't pertain to the topic then do so at one of these email addresses : red_kitten1@yahoo.com or red.kitten1@gmail.com BUT Mr. Troll that isn't an invitation for you to flood my inboxes with email.

Now, carry on and do all those disgustingly fun Monday night things all Mildred Misfits do, but don't forget to take pictures!!!

HRH Mildred Ratched