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Boston, MA, United States

Saturday, March 5, 2011


We make a living by what we get, we make a life by what we give. ~ Winston Churchill

If you've ever lost your living situation, you know how scary it is.  For those of you haven't, I will tell ya, there is no FEAR like the experience of having your home taken away.  When I left my mother's prison week before last, I had no idea where I was gonna go, or what I was gonna do because I had NO OPTIONS. 

Three months shy of my fortieth birthday, I found myself penniless and at the mercy of a woman who cares more about how to harm me than anything having to do with being a responsible, loving mother.  She threw me to the streets without a second thought at a time when I am on the verge of GREATNESS.

When I walked into a local market to get boxes to pack the things I hope to collect one day soon, I met a man who had enough compassion in him to ask me what was wrong.  I was bawling my eyes out, as I had been every day, since my mother turned to STONE.  I gave him the short version of the situation I was in.  His first question was, "YOUR MOM?  What did YOU DO?"

In any other instance, I would have been able to say, I was partying my ass off, or fucking up royally.  I wish I had a decent reason to give him, but I don't.  I've come to accept that my mom must be losing her mind.  What else could it be?  Why would my MOTHER do this to me?

I'll never have the answer to that question, but one thing I do know is that the kindness of strangers has given me the means and a reason to push on.  Good people exist.  The beauty of one person helping another just because they can is a concept I've never known.

In one way or another, my past life was always full of trades.  Care has always come with some type of if, or as long as, attached to it.

When I walked away from THE CULT, I ditched that mentality, in favor of love UNTIL.  So far it's working quite well, except the one time, when my mom threw me OUT.  I found myself in a situation where I had not a single person to turn to.

How pathetic is that?  Quite.  But that is what happens to a person who leaves THE CULT for a life of their own.  All my friends ditched me and my mother killed my community ages ago.  I don't have the luxury of a family, or true friends to ask for help when I am in trouble because I am re-building my life after twenty one years of confusion, drama, and people who will never be anything but phony, WEAK SUCK PUKES, as long as they subscribe to THE CULT THAT IS THE TWELVE STEPS.  What could I do?  I needed a miracle.

I've received several.

First, my father came through for me, in spite of me treating him horribly for years, due to the brainwashing I received about him my entire life.  He called me when he heard what happened and sent money to help me escape because he is my DAD.  He has said over and over that he'll always love me, no matter what, because I am his daughter.  I ashamed to say this is the first time in my life that I believe him.  Thank you, Dad.  From the bottom of my heart, I appreciate you. 

My dad's money got me to the bay area, where I thought I would make my new life, but the plan failed (thanks anyway, college friend for life!).  I put a plea with my donate button with not much hope, but four readers came through for me with money that has kept me afloat.  Sherlock helped me out, too.  All I can say is *WOW* because I've grown weary of the world these days.  I did not expect anything.  Thank you.  Thank you.  Thank you.

Since I left THE CULT, I've met many wonderful people online who have literally held my hand, heart and mind through this whole experience.  You've taught me what true friendship is.  I look forward to meeting each of you, in person, one day soon.  Your words of encouragement have made it possible for me to continue to look ahead with strength.  Thank you for being my FRIENDS.  I LOVE YOUS SO SO MUCH.

When my plans fell apart, I had to turn to the welfare office for help.  My intake counselor was very kind.  She made it a priority to get me into the cleanest shelter in the Bay Area.  With her referral and food stamps I headed to where the have nots, like me, go.  Most of the folks there were very sweet.  It was a pleasure to meet you all (*smiles*).  Others were not so sweet, but that happens everywhere, I guess.

The first thing I had to do when I walked in the door was take a shower and stand by in horror as they washed all of my clothes in hot water to kill any bugs homeless people tend to carry.  I was in a bit of a panic over the way they threw my wool sweaters, jeans, panties, bras, socks and pillow  in at the same time.  I prefer to separate my clothing according to color and vary the temperature, but whatev.

Nothing was damaged, so no harm no foul.  I climbed into my bunk the first night with the feeling that the nightmare would never end.  I fell asleep to the vision of that FULL METAL JACKET scene when the guy got pummeled by his roommates with bars of soap concealed in pillow cases.  I spent two nights in the homeless shelter.  It was like prison, only different, since I hadn't committed ANY CRIME.

Eighteen was a long time ago for me.  I don't have it in me to live in the conditions of a shelter.  The chips are really stacked against a person who wants to get their shit together.  There is no access to the Internet, aside from a lab that is barely open, with limited sites allowed.  I gave up a cell phone for freedom a while back, but it became a major problem.  I had no way to contact anyone, aside from my Google voice number on line.

Everything became a pain in the ass and I was very concerned that I'd have to wait months for any type of permanent housing.  I saw no way out, until the guy I met in the store began to email me through my blog.

His name is Dominick.  He comes from a good family in Chicago, who are 100% Sicilian and make their children priority NUMBER ONE.  He owns a home that his parents helped him buy with a large chunk of money they saved to help every single one of their kids live the American Dream.  He found it in his heart to reach out to me and offered me a place to stay, so I have somewhere to call home, while I continue recovering from my supposed recovery in the ROOMS that destroyed me.

We've thrown caution to the wind for the power of humanity.  He is helping a someone he barely knows and I am learning to trust again.

Dominick and I talked a lot before I came.  We covered all of the bases.  He knows I am in no position at all to form an intimate relationship with him or anyone else right now.  So far, so good.  I am amazed at THE KINDNESS OF A STRANGER.

With MAD love and many thanks to all of you.  You are amazing.  I look forward to returning your kindnesses to others in need, one day.

Too Bad, He Was Full Of Shit

Until Next Time,

DeConstrucor's Comment In Response to LETTER TO MY "FRIENDS" IN AA (page above)

"Brav fucking O.....Standing O fucking Vation. Or perhaps the Charlie Daniels quote from the Geico commercial of "thats how you do it son"

That was incredible.

Reminded me a little of "the letter" at the end of the Breakfast Club (perhaps the greatest movie ever)

Keep it up, dont be afraid to kick them in the teeth once in a while.

Always remember that its the misfits, the rebels, and the troublemakers that are the ones that change the world."

He post the following video at the end of his comment.

Thank you, my friend.
I am both Flattered and HONORED.

*This Video is here to support Decon's Words, not OBAMA (or any politician for that matter, since I've never been allowed to vote) Sincerely, Go-Go Rach.