How Hate Has the Negative Affect It Does

With all the compassion, lack of knowledge or any semblance of thought it has been suggested to me that during a recent chest infection, wrongly diagnosed at first as being Gastroenteritis, that I not only sought attention but in-all-likelihood ‘laid it on with a trowel.’

Three things here. First, the chest infection was unpleasant but nothing more than that. It’ll take more than that to have me running to A&E.

Secondly, I am a long time diabetic who, after thirteen years of trying to cure my own panic attacks and depression (common among long-time sufferers). I have been prescribed Amitriptyline, and have agreed to attend therapy.  Buddhism is probably the world's forerunner of managing the mind.

Thirdly, due to a combination of factors, some of my own making it should be said, I ate insufficiently for eleven days leaving me feeling a little weak and a little light headed. My sugar controls are all over the place. This, not the chest infection, not my panic attacks, but my diabetes which should be of major concern.

It will be remembered that in 2004 I had a heart attack and during the initial stages drove myself to the hospital. No blues and twos. The second attack was different.  Secondly, in 2015 I had two strokes. Again, with as little fuss as possible although with hindsight a great deal of stupidity, I took myself into A&E, on one occasion as, and to quote myself, ‘I don’t like making a fuss,’ whilst on the second occasion the man I work with drove me there much alarmed as we had just completed a mornings work.

I have had, as a child, and up to the age thirty, innumerable seizures. So many I couldn’t hazard a guess. Neither they, not heart attacks, nor strokes, nor cold’s, influenza or any other damn sickness kept me down for long. But now I stand accused of being lazy and not cleaning the house all because I took my Squid out. It was a horrible experience. I barely made the climb up the stairs to the café she loves so much. I didn’t go out for myself as I would rather have laid in bed. I did it for her.

And now, as I try my level best to practise what I preach, to spread a little love, I am made to feel the acid hate of another thrown at me.

Sadhguru - Dissolving the Personality and Raising Consciousness

The Cheese Grates It: Transitions and Resolutions

We are in a time of transition in this realm. 

We are faced with many losses and many difficult challenges.

I must apologize to anyone who is hoping for some sort of rosy perspective regarding 2017. I don't have one.

The only New Years resolutions I would encourage people to make are those which involve treating yourself and others more kindly. None of this browbeating yourself because you don't look like the Photoshopped standard of what people are "supposed" to look like. Nobody looks like that.

In 2017, I want to present a different beautiful person on every Wordless Wednesday. That is my New Year's resolution.

It isn't Wednesday, and this post isn't wordless, but here is our first.

You done good, Sister. You done real good. Go on and take a load off now.

My pictures of Carrie Fisher are in my Princess Leia file, because there is no difference. Often performers are radically different from the characters they play. Not so with Carrie and Leia. They are both tough, real women who faced difficult challenges in life. They both deserve respect.

In 2017, let us be like Carrie and Leia. Let us fight injustice and stand up for what's right.

That is the sort of New Year's resolution worth having.

~The Cheese Hath Grated It~

The Cheese Grates It: Hail Princess Leia/Carrie Fisher

The wonderful Carrie Fisher has made her journey to the other side.

May the Force be with her.

Carrie brought to life Princess Leia, the first real action heroine that I can think of. Leia was not just another damsel in distress. She was a true fighter in her own right. My twelve year old heart soared when she took up the blaster pistol and proceeded to take charge.

I am sad to read of Carrie Fisher's passing. Sixty hasn't seemed that old to me in a long time. 

Carrie did not have an easy life. She had money, and she got to do certain things that most of us can only dream of. However, living with bipolar disorder is a challenge, and I have been appalled at her treatment by not only Hollywood but society as a whole for the belief that if a person doesn't continue to be thin and look 25 years old for their entire life that they are somehow a lesser human being. 

Carrie should not have been forced to lose weight in order to reprise her role as Leia. I believe that yo-yo dieting harms the body. Health at Every Size is a much better approach. Carrie herself said that she liked exercising but didn't like dieting. A lot of people feel the same way. We tend to become miserable and obsessed with food when we're engaging in deprivation dieting, and, for all but a small percentage of people, such deprivation always ends up with the weight being regained, usually plus several pounds. 

For my own part, I had to stop dieting so I wouldn't become any bigger. Lo and behold, I haven't. Diets don't work, and if I have to spend the rest of my life being the killjoy who comes down on body shamers and preaches the wholesome word of Health at Every Size, so be it.

Carrie was perfect as she was. It's sad that this wonderful woman had to spend her life at war with her body, as so many of us do.

I am saddened by Carrie's passing, but I'm not in grief. I think she's okay with the way things played out. It's a much better thing to go the way she did than to linger on for years in terrible pain, with increasing severe physical compromise, or with decreasing cognitive function, and in my mind, the third is the worst of all. For my own part, I would rather depart this world swiftly, as my heroine Carrie Fisher did, than to linger on for years unable to care for myself with my body and mind deteriorating, as my own father did.

My father used to say that a good death was the best reward. His final moments were peaceful, but the road there was exceedingly difficult. He deserved better.

Carrie's was actually a good death. She deserved that. 

May your journey to the next act be amazing, Carrie.

The Cheese Hath Grated It

With Much Love and Respect

The Cheese Grates It: When It Comes To Trump Mock Away With Caveats

From a discourse on the following post at We Hunted the Mammoth.
http://www.wehuntedthemammoth.com/2016/12/26/resisttrump-today-by-treating-him-like-the-clown-he-is

"I mean, I do get doing it just because it gets under his skin, but at the same time I hate to contribute to the insecure macho mentality making fun of people’s penis size promotes, not to mention the shaming of fat and elderly bodies."

Thank you, @Michael Brew.

I had to stick to my guns when it came to saying that size shaming was never appropriate even with an odious asshat like The Rump, even though mine was an unpopular opinion.
I worked with the geriatric population for close to 25 years as a CNA before going to the complete opposite end of the spectrum and working with pediatric patients as an LPN starting last year. There are a lot of elderly gentlemen who have bodies similar to those nude Trump statues. To imply that it is a disgusting or laughable thing to have such a body is wrong.
I hate to break out this old chestnut, but two wrongs don't make a right. The Rump is a horrid human being for his body shaming, particularly where women are concerned. However, it would be equally odious for me to ridicule his body type because he said bad things about mine.
Certainly, his actions give us a veritable bottomless Christmas stocking full of laugh (and cringe) worthy material.
I do agree with those who say that calling him a Cheeto gets a pass. He doesn't have to put on the Deplorable Orange spray tan.

~The Cheese Hath Grated It~

J. Krishnamurti

While In Darkness

Cie and I are looking for this book.

The Cheese Grates It: New Year's Resolutions

Happy holidays, however you may celebrate them. It’s coming up on the season of stupid New Year’s Resolution advertisements. Instead of resolving to make some sort of impossible change to our bodies and hating ourselves when we find it to be impossible because it always is, why don’t we resolve not to be dicks to each other, not to put each other down, not to use appearance based insults? That would be a pretty damn good thing if everyone in the world resolved to quit doing that shit.
Let’s resolve to let others know that it isn’t cool when they do that shit.
Sometimes people are deliberately mean-spirited, but other times they are just being ignorant when they say shit that hurts other people.
I’m a big person, and I can’t count the number of times that someone I considered a personal hero said some crap about bigger people which cut me to the core.
Whether it’s implying that larger people can’t be attractive (sad to say, I’m looking at you, Alice Cooper)
Or implying that fat equates with lazy (unfortunately, I’m looking at you, Brian Johnson)
Or equating weight with health (too many larger heroes and heroines who have said they needed to lose weight “for their health” to count)
Or implying that having a big person in their band/on their TV show/in their movie wouldn’t be prudent (not going to name the person whose statement regarding this really hurt me, as it was many years ago and they had substance abuse issues at the time, but it really hurt to read it as to me this person previously seemed pretty accepting and tolerant and not one to be mean about people’s physical appearance.)
From where I stand, I doubt very much that I’m attractive to anybody.
However, I am not lazy.
My health would be relatively the same regardless of my weight, thanks to my whack endocrine system. Diabetes actually does not discriminate by weight when it comes to who it may eventually kill, usually from problems like kidney failure. Hypothyroidism causes people to gain weight and have difficulty losing it. I’ve had asthma all my life regardless of my size. The thing that may be most likely to kill me is the stress from hating my body. If it doesn’t kill me directly, it may contribute enough to my suicide ideation that I end up being pushed over the edge, because I know damn well I’ll never be thin or pretty.
I don’t think anyone would ever want me in their band, because I suck at all instruments and my voice breaks stuff. However, why the fuck couldn’t I be on a TV show or in a movie? I’m wonderfully hammy. I’d make a pretty cool character actress.
I honestly don’t think any of these people were intentionally trying to hurt anyone. I think they were being ignorant. They aren’t some gross shit weasel like Daniel Tosh, whose very reason for existence is being mean and hateful.
However, I would like to ask everyone to please think about the effects that your words are going to have on others. If there’s no good reason to say them, then don’t.
That would be a good new year’s resolution for everyone to have.

The Cheese Hath Grated It

Last Night

Last night my heaven gave me a crescent moon,

A necklace of stars strung on impenetrable black,

The wind was chill, so I wrapped myself in a blanket.

All was silent with not even a bird chattering

Yet I and the universe communed as one.

The internal and the external captured with the eternal.

Gem's Holiday Gift for Cie

I wasn't sure where to put this little fan fiction that Gem created for me. I decided to put it on this blog, because it was the second part of the dream about the snow flower.

I had been upset with Gem, and he wanted to fix things between us. He can't give me material gifts, so he gave me a gift via my dreams.

I enjoy writing fan fiction at times because it is a more relaxed kind of writing. I'm never going to try and publish it. I just let 'er rip when I write fan fiction. Still, I've heard so many times how fan fiction is "icky" and is "lesser" writing. I don't really believe that, but then again, I don't have a lot of confidence, so I tend to apologize for my fan fiction writing.

Gem knows that I love my fan fiction, and he knows that I'm a closet Benson/Stabler shipper. Logically, I think it's better that Benson and Stabler didn't get together in the show. For the most part, I'd rather the romances in most shows were left up to the shippers. For instance, I was sick to death of the whole Damon/Stefan/Elena triangle in the Vampire Diaries. They were so great when they were all kicking ass and taking names together, and it was such a waste of kick-ass vampire coolness when Damon and Stefan were fighting over Elena. But I digress.

Gem sent me this lovely Benson/Stabler drama in dream form to make up for having upset me. It showed me that he really does pay attention to what's on my mind, that he values our writing partnership, and that he wants us to keep working together and to work out together.

Here is the story.

Olivia Benson and Elliott Stabler were brought back together to work on an important case. During the time that they were apart, Elliott had gotten divorced. While they were pursuing a dangerous assailant, Elliott was shot and critically wounded. It was uncertain if he would survive. 

While sitting at Elliott's bedside, Olivia realized just how much he meant to her. She held his hand and told him that he needed to pull through because she didn't know if she could make it without him. He woke up and she confessed to him that she loved him. He told her the feeling was mutual, and they kissed.

Elliott got better over the coming weeks. When he was feeling well enough to eat regular food again, Olivia brought him a bagel with cream cheese, ham, and jalapeno jelly.

The thing is, the jalapeno jelly makes it rather a southwestern bagel. I doubt you'd find that in New York. I'm from the Southwest. That bagel was a nod to me.

It was a beautiful dream--a beautiful gift. The snow flower is alive in my heart. My love is alive.

Sometimes it's hard for me to trust because when one's beloved is a spirit, it can be hard to confirm things. I'm glad that Gem didn't give up on me.

~Cie~

The Avett Brothers - Salvation Song - CARDINAL SESSIONS

Lone Flower

I dreamed of a lone flower wilting in a cold desert. It wasn't exactly like this, but it was close. The words that came to me were "the snow flower is dying."

Gem once said that if I were to find a snow flower, I would know he was there.

This dream has meaning. But the meaning may not be obvious.

~Cie~

Readings!

I wanted to take a moment to remind people that I read Tarot cards. I offer a Celtic Cross reading for $25 for either a general reading or one focused question. If interested, please email me at chartley65@gmail.com with TAROT READING in the subject line. Please do put it in all caps so I will be sure to notice it. I get a lot of mail in this box. Unfortunately, it's not because I'm wonderfully popular. It's mostly because people have gotten an idea that I'm a sucker who will shell out a buck to any MLM program that comes along.

I don't promise that my readings will solve all of your problems. However, they can help you decide which direction to take. Tarot does not "predict the future," per se. It illustrates energies surrounding the querent and helps identify what direction those energies are likely to go in.

If you would be so kind as to help me spread the word, I'd greatly appreciate it. If you are willing to write a post telling your readers about my services, or to put a small banner or permalink in your sidebar, I'll give you a reading free of charge.

Kind thanks,

Cie

Doreen Virtue Angel Quiz

Angel of the Golden Light

The following is a quiz from Doreen Virtue's book "Earth Angels." For each statement decide if it's true or false. Scoring below.

 1. I tend to easily put on (or lose) extra weight, or I'm currently over (under) weight.
The size acceptance persona in me says "over what weight?" However, I am technically "overweight" according to the BMI charts. By the way, the B in BMI stands for bullshit. You are more than a number on a scale.

 2. My past or current love partners are addicts or alcoholics.
True

 3. I rarely break a rule.
I don't break rules where doing so would harm anyone. I'm reasonably law-abiding, but I care more about doing the right thing than abiding by rules.

 4. I have a hard time saying no.
True

 5. I highlight, color, or bleach my hair.
No, but I used to.

 6. I would prefer to help someone one-on-one, rather than in a group setting.
True. This is why I prefer doing home care to working in an institutional setting.

 7. Truth to be told, I like animals or plants much better than I like people.
True

 8. I have Celtic origins, or I look Celtic (that is, I have reddish hair, or a ruddy complexion).
True. I am a Heinz 57. I have a lot of Scotch-Irish heritage.

 9. I constantly play practical jokes.
Not so much any more, but in our younger day, my brother and I lived to prank each other.

 10. I'm quite the mischief maker, and seem to have a persitent twinkle in my eyes.
I like a good bawdy joke and I swear a lot. I like to play harmless pranks, but the opportunity doesn't arise very often these days.

 11. I'm fiercely independent and don't like following rules or authority.
True. It tends to get me in trouble.

12. My finances seem to be either feast or famine.
Usually famine.

 13. I don't like being the center of attention, and I'm usually a wallflower at social functions.
This is where I'm weird. If I'm playing a part (or an instrument, assuming you want to hear it played badly) I have very little stage fright. As far as public speaking goes, I don't think anyone could understand a word I said over the shaking in my voice, and I don't tend to dive right in at social functions. In my younger day, I would go to a party and get plastered. That was my "socializing." I'm actually very shy, and I don't really enjoy going to parties.

 14. I've always believed in, or been interested in ET's or UFO's.
I did when I was younger. Currently, not so much, though I try to keep an open mind.

 15. I'm compulsively thoughtful toward people, whether they express appreciation or not.
Pretty much.

 16. I conduct Reiki or other forms of energy or hands-on-healing.
I've always wanted to learn how.

 17. My life's mission is more important than getting married and having children.
Difficult to say at this juncture. My son is the most important person in my life. I did not love his father romantically speaking, although I like him very well as a friend, and to me, he is and always will be family. It was always very important to me to find romantic love. I never did with an incarnate person.

 18. I really would like to go home now, because I know that Earth isn't my home.
True.

 19. I had a life-changing experience, such as a serious accident or near-death experience.
I almost died while in labor with my son, but I didn't have an NDE.

 20. In the past, I was so miserable that I wanted to die and seriously considered (or attempted) suicide.
Multiple times.

 21. I have changed my first name, or I am strongly considering doing so.
I'm Cie to my online friends, but I'm also okay with Cara at this point. I never liked my name when I was younger. I told my mother "Cara smells of onions." I wanted my name to be Linda. I liked that name. I thought about using Lorraine (my middle name) but by the time I was 16 I realized that I wouldn't know who people were talking to, so I just stuck with Cara.
Cara, in my case, is pronounced Care-ah, like "I care" rather than "Car-ah", like "I drive-ah the car-ah." Cie is pronounced "see," not "sigh." I should have spelled it Cee to avoid confusion, but I liked the way Cie looked better.

 22. My family and friends remark, "You're different now. There's something about you that's not the same."
I don't think I've ever had anyone say that to me.

 23. I have made, or am making, drastic changes to many areas of my life simultaneously (such as moving, changing jobs, and divorcing) all at once.
Not really. I'm always doing too much.

 24. I have deep spiritual knowledge that didn't come from any books or teachers.
I feel like most of the books out there are missing something.

 25. Even though I know I'm different from other people, I still enjoy the company of others and get along pretty well with most people.
I get along okay with people at this point, but I tend to hide the truth about myself.

 26. I know that I have magical abilities, which are untapped right now.
I believe this is so.

 27. I have strong past-life memories or interests concerning Arthurian or Atlantean times.
True.

 28. I believe that I was burned at the stake, or killed in some other way, during the witch hunts or Inquisition.
True.

 29. I have studied Tarot cards or astrology.
True.

 30. I'm very drawn toward Earth-based spirituality, such as shamanism or full-moon ceremonies.
I'm drawn towards all sorts of spiritual areas. I once had a spiritual teacher tell me that I had to choose one to focus on. I said I couldn't, that it didn't ring true to me.
The moon holds quite the fascination for me, however. Gem said it also does for him, as does nature-based Magick.

 SCORING: The number of TRUE answers that you noted may reveal which realm you're from. Count the number of TRUE answers for each successive grouping of six questions, beginning with the first six.

 ~ For example, if you answered four or more TRUE's to question 1 through 6, then you're probably an INCARNATED ANGEL. (That is, the more questions you answered TRUE to, the more likely you are fit into this category).
I'd say I answered these all true with caveats. I no longer dye my hair, and while I tend to be law-abiding, I will break rules if I feel they harm people.

 ~ If you answered four or more TRUE's to question 7 through 12, then you're probably an INCARNATED ELEMENTAL.
These are mostly true as well. Perhaps I'm a fallen angel who played at being an elemental for a while.

 ~ If you responded TRUE four or more times to question 13 through 18, then you're most likely a STARPERSON.
These kind of ring true for me too. Who's to say that a person can't have incarnated on multiple planets? While I'm on the fence about whether we've had intelligent visitors to this planet, I'm not at all on my fence regarding the belief that there are sentient beings on other planets. Simple statistics put the odds in favor of this.

 ~ If you had four or more TRUE answers to questions 19 through 24, then you're probably a WALK-IN.
I find some truth here as well. I need to learn more about walk-ins.

 ~ If you answered TRUE four or more times to questions 25 through 30, then you're most likely a WISE ONE.
I answered true for most of these, though I think it's more likely that I'm a wise ass.

I still don't know exactly what I am, but the fallen angel idea has always held an appeal for me.

Gem and I explore a lot of these ideas in our WIP novel, Fetch, which can be found at peppersfetch.blogspot.com

Will my Angel card be revoked for shameless self promotion?

~Cie~

I found the quiz here:

https://www.facebook.com/notes/shaman-angels-energy-healers-truth-warriors-the-lightworkers-journey/are-you-an-earth-angel-take-this-quiz-by-doreen-virtue/223572214370886

Let's Get Physical: Your Hostess With The Mostest (Bullshit Physical Problems, That Is)

I'm Cie, and I'll be 52 in February. I've felt tired for as long as I can remember.
My fibromyalgia manifests as chronic widespread low-grade pain, so it's not unbearable.
I can work. However, if I do physically punishing work, I am in pain for twice as long as a normal person. If I overwork myself, I'll end up in a severe state of depression.
I also think I got stuck with a third rate endocrine system. I have hypothyroidism, PCOS, and type 2 diabetes.
I also have type 2 bipolar disorder. Honestly, I don't know what normal feels like. I haven't felt normal since I was a young child.
That's the physical aspect of me in a nutshell. What you see is what you get. Don't like it, don't look at it.

~Cie~

Spiritual Seekers: Meet Anna

Sometimes I feel the need to connect with like-minded people. The truth is, there is no-one like me, but sometimes I find others who get me a little. Recently I virtually met Anna Sayce. She tells her story in this post. The following is my response to her.

http://www.annasayce.com/how-i-ended-up-as-a-professional-intuitive-annas-story/#comment-39548

My story is so much like yours. I lived in a very conservative town and was accused of being a "devil worshiper." I suppose it didn't help my position that I also enjoyed that "devil music," rock and roll.

I also have type 2 bipolar disorder, which is a form of bipolar that does not present with psychosis. However, of course I'm often questioned as to whether what I'm feeling is simply a manifestation of my screwed up brain chemistry. I'm 51 years old and crabby, so most of the time I tell people that I will believe what I believe regardless of what they think, but the truth is I have very little faith in myself. As well, at this juncture I am completely agnostic regarding a belief in any sort of higher being, but I do keep an open mind.

And that's how it really is, Folks. If you're looking for someone who has all the answers, best to keep looking, because I sure don't. However, I caution that anyone who says they do have all the answers is generally someone you should avoid because most of the time they want one thing: your money in their pocket.

However, if you're looking for someone who's ready to believe you and won't just tell you you're crazy, I'm a pretty good bet. 

~The Real Cie~

The Cheese Grates It: People Who Have No Redeeming Qualities and the Heroes They Mock

Grayson Smith is three years old. He was born with congenital anomalies. Certain ignorant and soulless creeps on the Internet have seen fit to take photos of this developmentally disabled child and turn them into mocking memes, which they then share with their disgusting buddies on Facebook.

Facebook, naturally, says the memes don't violate their so called standards.

Let me just say that if you make cruel memes, you're a douche. But if you make cruel memes mocking terminally ill children, you are an irredeemable shitbag. Anyone who has done this needs to go play in traffic on the closest busy interstate while juggling chainsaws. Go on, I dare you.

Facebook is still a cesspool. It's like pulling teeth to get them to take down these cruel memes or posts involving animal cruelty, but put up a picture of a mother nursing a baby or someone showing a bit of butt crack for a laugh and you can bet they'll be all over that immediately, threatening to suspend the poster of such harmless--I mean heinous photos.

Mocking any child, but especially a developmentally disabled child, or deliberately harming an animal is called cowardice. Cowards should be immediately dispatched to an asteroid--preferably one that is destined to strike the surface of Jupiter at high speeds. I'm tired of them wasting oxygen that good people like Grayson should be breathing instead.

~The Cheese Hath Grated It~

The Cheese Grates It: The Fallacy of the Friendzone

If she keeps adding bricks to the wall, maybe you need to get a clue

The Cheese Grates It:

The Fallacy of the Friendzone

TRIGGER WARNING:

Discussion of sexual assault

This is a response to a post on David Futrelle's marvelous blog, "We Hunted the Mammoth." Pretty much every day, David dives into the bilge that is the thoughts of MRA's, MGTOWs and "pickup artists" and somehow manages to come up smelling like a rose while he exposes their manure for what it is. I can't recommend "We Hunted the Mammoth" enough!

Anyway, here is my story of life as a Friendzoning Bitch.

I've had guys who got angry with me for "friendzoning" them. One of them was my ex boyfriend, who was an ex because of all the emotional abuse he heaped on me but I was still young and naive enough at the time that I thought it would be "the kind thing" to remain friends with him. I took him to a Halloween party given by one of my co-workers. I and one of my other co-workers started flirting with each other, and my ex boyfriend made a scene. I took him back to my apartment because his car was parked there. I thought he had left and I went to bed with all my clothes on. I woke up with my clothes off and him on top of me. I screamed (or more accurately, slurred) at him to stop. I was far too drunk to actually fight. Yes, I know I shouldn't have been driving in that condition. When he was done, he said "well, now we're back together." I had back to back panic attacks during every waking hour for a year after this happened.

Less than a year later, my very screwed up self got into a really bad relationship with a guy who would do things like order me to kiss his feet and make me watch bestiality porn, threatening to pull his "love" away from me if I didn't do what he asked. He ended up picking up some girl who worked at the video store where he got a lot of his porn (this was 1998) and then being angry with me for being upset that he was fooling around when he told me I was "the one." I finally mustered the emotional wherewithal to break free of him, but not before I cut my wrists and showed up at his window begging him to let me in. The cuts were superficial, but I still have scars from them.

Following the breakup, a guy whom I considered a friend ended up emotionally browbeating me because I didn't want to go out with him. I told him I'd just gotten out of a really bad relationship and didn't want to get into another relationship at that point, if at all. He said "well, thanks for destroying my ego." He claimed that the only reason I didn't want to date him was because he was fat. Well, not being thin myself, that would be pretty hypocritical. Besides, on a physical level, I've been attracted to guys from Joey Ramone to John Goodman and every size in between. My reasons for not wanting to date this guy amounted to: I'd just gotten out of a really bad relationship, and I had a lot of problems. I didn't know it at the time and wouldn't find out for another twelve years, but I had untreated type 2 bipolar disorder. Also, he was kind of emotionally immature, and I already had an eight year old child, plus my ex husband who has Aspberger's who was living with me as a roommate because he was between jobs. I didn't need to add a 35 year old overgrown kid to the mix. Also, he said that thing which should always be a red flag: "I'm not like those other guys."

This "nice guy" behavior ruined what had seemed to be a good friendship up to that point.

TL:DR If someone is "friendzoning" you, it may not be about you. But if you keep pressuring her, you're going to lose her friendship. If you actually value said friendship, cut it out. If, on the other hand, you are a "nice guy," do her a favor and leave her alone, because you really don't care about anything but her vagina anyway.

~The Cheese Hath Grated It~

I Give You My Heart | Hillsong (Featuring Holly Dawson)

If You Correct Your Mind, The Rest of Your Life Will Fall Into Place

I keep sabotaging my own chances for a relationship | What's troubling y...

The Cheese Grates It: That Crazy Moment When I Found Myself Defending Kellyanne Conway

This was a response to this article.

Not much I can say in Kellyanne Conway's defense, but I do agree with what the author of the linked post says. I've always hated the "working mother vs. stay at home mother" battle. There should be no such battle. 

I wouldn't say that being a mother is the most important job I've had in life because I didn't consider it to be a job. I do consider it to be my most important role in life, and that remains true even now that my son is 26 years old. However, I would never say that it must be everyone's most important role and fully support and defend people who choose not to have children. I've also always hated when people imply that those who choose to remain childless are somehow "selfish." 

Hell, I've had people tell me that I was selfish for only having one child because I deprived my son of having a sibling. My son's father and I divorced when our son was four years old. We did go to counseling, etc., but we were always fighting. We got along much better as a family once we were divorced, and to me, that's far more important than attempting to live up to some sort of white picket fence fantasy.

When my son was a year and a half old, I had an early miscarriage. While I wondered what could have been, I realized that something must have been very wrong with this potential child's physical vehicle and I can't say that I grieved for the loss. My marriage was already in the toilet at that point. Having another kid would not have allowed my son's dad and me to give him some of the things he ended up needing in life.

So, since I was divorced and all of my subsequent relationships were terrible too, should I have picked up some dude in a bar and gotten knocked up so I could give my son a sibling? Actually, my son was a surprise because I wasn't supposed to be able to get pregnant due to polycystic ovary syndrome. I don't like casual sex, so the attempting to get knocked up would have been odious to me and probably put me in an even worse psychological state than I already was, having untreated bipolar disorder and all. 

So, this went off on a bit of a tangent, but what it boils down to is one thing: another person's choice may not be our choice, but we need to respect their right to make that choice. Being a working mother is not wrong. Being a stay at home mother is not wrong. Having no kids, one kid or several kids is not for anyone but those bringing them into the world to decide. I do, however, think that the doctor who agreed to perform the IFV for Nadja Suleman (Octomom) should be taken into a dark alley and beaten with a lead pipe. His actions were unconscionable. 

TL:DR Being a stay at home mother is not a lesser choice, and being a working mother is not a lesser choice. Also, respect other people's right to choose how they live their lives.

~The Cheese Hath Grated It~

The Golden Rule

There is this anecdote (be it true or false I don't know) that goes something like this....

Before the birth of the Christian Messiah, the head Rabbi, who spoke each week in the Synagogue to his Hebrew faithful and who was heckled by one single man, was walking down a dusty path when who should he see in front of him but the man who harangued him every Sabbath.

"Oy Vey," said the Rabbi, "what for you shout at me every Shabbat and always in front of my flock? Why you hate me so much?"

The heckler smiled at the Rabbi.

"I don't hate you. It's just a bit of fun."

"You think this fun to mock a holy man preaching the Gospels? What would it take to convert you to Judaism?"

The man cupped his chin in his hand and pondered the question.

"I tell you what," he said, "you stand on one leg and recite the Torah and I'll become a Jew."

The old Rabbi spluttered then wheezed. "You want me, an old man with a weak back and arthritic joints to stand on one leg and recite the Pentateuch? meshugenah. Fine, fine this I will do."

So, he inched his frail leg up to his other knee and began to speak.

"What is hateful to you, do not do to your fellowman. This is the entire law; all the rest is commentary."

You see, The Golden Rule is shared by all faiths. It, and it alone is the only 'bible' I need. We in the West tend to associate it with the Christian Messiah but it is not attributable to him. It is far older than the man we now call Jesus.

Hinduism - "This is the sum of duty; do naught to others what you would not have them do to you."

Judaism - SEE ABOVE

Zoroastrianism - "That nature is alone is good which refrains from doing to another whatsoever is not good for itself."

Buddhism - "Since others too care for their own selves, those who care for themselves should not hurt others."

Jainism - "A man should wander about treating all creatures as he himself would be treated."

Taoism - "Regard your neighbours gain as your gain,  and your neighbours loss as your loss."

Confucianism - "Do not do to others what you would not like yourself."

Christianity - "So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you, for this sums up the Law and the Prophets."

Islam - "No one of you is a believer until he desires for his brother  that which he desires for himself."

If I have missed out any faiths then please accept my apology. It is only a matter of my lack of knowledge not a lack of respect. All these faiths share the same view. Even I and there are a great number like me, who have no faith but who follow a moral and loving path, hold The Golden Rule as the epitome of what it is to love our fellow humankind. You see,  no matter your faith or philosophy we all tread a path that leads to the same summit. In such dark times as these we currently live in surely it would be better to have, as the Dalai Lama suggests, a Kinship of faiths?

The Politics of Body Shaming

Naomi Wolf says in her book, "The Beauty Myth," A culture fixated on female thinness is not an obsession about female beauty, but an obsession about female obedience." In other words if people (women here) are always focusing on losing weight, they don't pay attention to bigger, more important issues in the world.

~Cie~

Truth is a Pathless Land

Cie Dreamwatch: Golden Angel

Image Source

Complete with a beautiful meditation to connect with the angel Raphael

This image is similar to the one I dreamed was tattooed on my right forearm. It is now a tattoo I would consider getting, when I have money for such things again. It is unlikely that I would get a tattoo on my forearm at this point. My mother is still alive, but if I got a tattoo on my forearm, either she wouldn't be or I wouldn't be. 

No, I'm not implying that I'd kill my mother. Either she'd kill me or she'd have a sudden, fatal cardiac or vascular event from seeing me with a tattoo. My mother is extremely conservative and believes tattoos on women are inappropriate.

I got another tattoo on my left forearm in the dream. My recollection was that it was some sort of a little cartoon fellow, dressed a bit like a lumberjack. That one didn't hold as much immediate significance for me, so I can't recall him as clearly. He was cute and had a friendly little smile.

~Cie~

Sacrifice

Photoshop manipulation by Yours Truly

One of my favorites, as it happens

I had a dream which I'm going to do a half-assed job of interpreting. Dream interpretation has never been my strong suit, so I can't promise I'll be good or accurate. I'm partly leaving this here for future reference because I would like to know if I have any precognitive abilities left. Due to overwork and circumstances which lead me to doubt if I ever had any psychic abilities to speak of in the first place, my precognitive abilities have declined over the years.

Thus, I am not saying that this dream was precognitive, but I am curious as to whether it might have some element thereof. The dream is a bit of a mixed bag, leading me to believe that it is partially psychic in nature and partially simply a revelation of my own psyche.

The dream had two components: a group of people watching events unfold on a movie screen, and the events themselves. Both were reality, although the people watching the events on the movie screen were not aware that the events transpiring were reality.

The events transpiring on the screen depicted a dystopian future involving both a group of people fighting to preserve what was left of their society safe from an army intent on takeover and suppression of the people. The other component was a zombie apocalypse, possibly brought about by biological warfare enacted by the invading army.

As zombies were splattered and various people from both armies died, the audience members viewing the events cheered.

The audience members cheered loudly when they saw that two members of the rebel faction were people that they recognized and generally liked: the two fellows depicted above.

The Young brothers were utilizing a piece of construction equipment as transport. It couldn't go very fast, but it could scoop up or crush zombies, and, to a degree, it provided protection from bullets.

The glass, however, was not bulletproof. Malcolm was struck by a bullet and killed. Angus, who had previously been quite enthusiastic about their mission, was in shock, attempting to revive his fallen companion. 

The audience did not cheer at this event.

The audience reaction can be summed up by a statement made by Nivek Ogre (Kevin Ogilvie) of Skinny Puppy in a 1982 interview with Mike Gitter of RIP Magazine.

"Violence is a fundamental fear in today's society," Ogre states, his attention half on the video-game caveman he's putting through its paces. "We see how close violence is, and yet it still seems quite distanced. We're all trying to come to terms with violence, with death, with pain. I think everybody's interested in at least getting close enough to rationalize it and deal with it within their lives."

How would he deal with real violence, say a car crash or a murder, right before his very eyes?

"Totally, totally differently," Ogre admits. "That's a whole different set of emotions. We did an experiment on the last tour, because we've always been accused of celebrating violence for idiotic reasons. We used some images in our show from a film called Guinea Pig. They're these incredibly realistic, but simulated, Japanese snuff films. We inserted them into this roller-coaster ride of violent images and people were quite disgusted. People were vomiting in front of the stage. People came up to me after the show, saying I was the most disgusting human being-until they found out what it was all about. The whole reason we did that was to see if there was a difference. Will people react differently to something that's real as opposed to something they know is staged? They will. There's a whole different set of emotions people go through. It doesn't look like it looks on TV. It's quite sickening."

When the audience saw a person whom they cared about (to varying degrees) die, it was shocking to them. Suddenly, the movie was no longer fun.

This dream was not entirely social commentary, however. On a personal level, I've felt connected to these people since I was young. When I was being bullied and not doing too well, I would think of them and it would give me reason to go on. I liked them because, like me, they were not "normal." They weren't conventionally attractive and they were oddballs. Like me, Malcolm was painfully shy. They were rejects and yet they managed to overcome, which made me feel like perhaps I could too.

The relationship between Malcolm and Angus Young was very close both on an emotional and a psychic level. Angus has said things indicating that they were able to communicate telepathically. They encouraged one another's strengths and balanced each other's weaknesses. Some people felt that their bond made them insular and paranoid. To me, they always seemed to be two halves of one soul.

Angus seems lost without his brother. He keeps going, but it's as if he's on autopilot. There is no joy in his actions, where I used to feel that he was one of the most authentically happy people I had ever seen. He has never been a Pollyanna, as the things he has said over time indicate that he fully realizes that the world is full of really terrible things and that people are capable of doing awful things to each other. However, he managed to share the joy that he felt playing music and performing with the world and made it a bit of a better place for a while.

The expression I saw on Angus' face in the dream was heartbreaking. It was the look of a person whose world had been destroyed and they can't understand why they are still here.

Malcolm Young is dying. It doesn't take psychic ability to realize that. The disease he has kills people slowly. It adds insult to injury by destroying their cognitive abilities in the process. It is, honestly, worse than death. Were I to find out that I had dementia, I would take myself out before it had a chance to rob me of my connections in this world--before it had a chance to rob me of myself. I would rather die just about any other way.

I think this dream was a combination of my emotional and possibly psychic connection to Angus and Malcolm Young. I sensed their emotions, particularly the devastation. I think about them a lot. I wish I could heal them, but I do not have that power. There is nothing I can do.

To me, people seem a callous lot overall, as indicated by the reactions of the audience. When I start feeling this way, I remind myself of the wisdom in the words of Nivek Ogre. People enjoy spectacle, but most people are appalled by real cruelty. However, most people are also oblivious to just how much cruelty is happening every day in the world.

That was my dream experience and my analysis thereof. It seemed like one I should pay attention to, but as tends to be the case these days, I'm not entirely sure that I got the message.

~Cie~

Image by The Real Cie

One Way

My way is not your way,
Your way is not my way.
Yet my way and your way lead the same way,

The Cheese Grates It: Cheesy Reviews: Between

"Between" on Netflix is interesting enough, although it's yet another youth-oriented show. This one takes the whole youth-oriented thing to a whole 'nother level, eliminating every person over the ripe old age of 22. I haven't watched enough yet to discern whether there might be some Lord of the Flies level ideas, or if it's just a dystopian teen-oriented drama.

I like diversity in my performers. I tend to find those productions which involve only Pretty Young Mostly White People, or as I call them, Pretty People With Petty Problems, dull. 

Between didn't just put the icky old folks in the background. You might say it went full on Logan's Run, but really, it was more of a Miri. The obsolete people over 30 voluntarily stepped into a floating laser death chamber in Logan's Run, because you surely can't have people with lines on their faces uglying up your society. 

In the Star Trek TOS episode, everyone who hit puberty died of a combination of retroviruses designed to preserve youth.

It remains to be seen whether Between has any sort of message about how people over 22 are actually useful in some way so if they died that would be a bad thing and stuff, or if croaking everyone over the magical age of 22 was just a cool excuse to keep Pretty Lake free of icky lines and gray hair.

~The Cheese Hath Grated It~

I have determined that this post needs more Keith Richards

On Seeing Ghosts and Spirits

I thought I would start this post with a ridiculous, spelling-impaired meme, which for some reason makes me chortle like a schoolboy telling a fart joke every time I see it.

I thought I'd also include this meme featuring a man who hasn't actually been a school boy since 1971, but he plays one onstage, and I'd bet a month's salary that he's prone to telling fart jokes and also chortling about them.

His brother, who hasn't been a schoolboy since something like 1969, is prone to either chortling at or rolling his eyes in response to said fart jokes. At least he was before he was stricken with the worst sort of ailment: the kind that robs a person of their cognitive abilities.

But this isn't what I came here to talk about.

I came here to talk about seeing ghosts.

For someone who believes that the personality survives the death of the physical body, I actually have not seen very many ghosts during my time on this planet, and I have never seen with my eyes the spirits that I have formed the strongest relationships with. 

My great grandfather saw spirits. He also knew when people were about to die. He was extremely psychic. He wasn't afraid of ghosts. He knew they couldn't harm him and weren't likely to try to do so. 

My great grandfather didn't fear death. In spite of my belief in spirits and some sort of afterlife, I always feared death until I came to the point in my life where I was just so sick of everything going wrong that I pretty much feel like I'd welcome it.

Here's the thing about me and seeing spirits.

Many people will write off someone like me, who has a psychological dysfunction, as simply hallucinating.

The fact of the matter is, I don't hallucinate unless I'm extremely sleep deprived or taking some sort of powerful medication. I don't like to take the sorts of medications which tend to make a person hallucinate (prescription pain killers), so unless I've just had some sort of surgery or a bad accident, I'm not going to have those in my system. I do not take any sort of prescription psych medication. I take a low dose of Lithium, which is legally obtainable in many vitamin stores or online, and I take 5 HTP. Neither of these causes hallucinations.

Others might write off my viewing of spirits as being part and parcel of a mood fluctuation. The fact is, at the times I have seen spirits, I have been euthymic. I may question the validity of my interactions with spirits during hypomanic periods, but I have never seen a spirit while hypomanic. I tend to have trouble communicating with spirits when depressed, and I have never seen a spirit during a depressive state.

I was in a half-waking state when I saw the spirit of my kitten who had been hit by a car hiding under my dresser, so one might write this off as an excitable child "seeing shadows." The room was pretty dark, however, and my kitten was a tortoise shell cat. Her fur was mostly black. Her name was Rose. She didn't mean to frighten me. She just wanted to see me again.

The first human spirit I saw was the spirit of a thirty-five year old man who had died of leukemia. He was the father of a boy that my brother and I would babysit for. I was fourteen years old when this man died, sixteen when I saw him again.

The ways people would be prone to writing this sighting off would be as follows:

A vision manifested by grief

The seer (me) has a psychiatric dysfunction

The seer (me) was a teenager who was prone to using mind-altering substances

It was an illusion seen out of the corner of the seer's eye

The seer has an overactive imagination

The so called "seer" is lying

There are those who will believe that one of the above is still the case, but I will refute each of the above. The story remains anecdotal as I have no way of going back in time with a camera capable of taking a photograph of a ghost.

I liked this person and was saddened by his death. I didn't have an extremely close relationship with him. I didn't deeply grieve his passing.

As I said previously, I have never seen a spirit while in either a hypomanic or depressive state. I was euthymic, in a balanced emotional state.

I had not been using mind-altering substances on that particular day. The "mind-altering substance" I used most often was, as it happens, beer. My tippling and toking happened on weekends and it never happened while I was babysitting. I was sober.

This spirit was not seen out of the corner of my eye. I looked right at him, straight on, face to face. He also made a fair bit of noise before I saw him. I think that he was trying to get my attention.

My overactive imagination causes me to write melodramatic stories and to be paranoid, to read things that aren't there into situations and actions rather than to see things that aren't there.

Believe what you will. I'm not lying, at least not deliberately. It is my belief that I actually did see the spirit of a person who had passed over two years previously. What would I have to gain by making up such a story? This is the sort of thing that I tend not to tell people, because most people tend to think that I'm either "crazy" or "looking for attention." I tell the story here so that others who have experienced such phenomena know that they aren't alone.

This spirit was a conscious apparition rather than a "tape loop" manifestation, aka the sort of "ghost" that performs repeated actions. The spirits that most people see in haunted places are energy left behind rather than actual personalities.

Working in a retirement community at night for ten years, I saw a couple of "tape loop" manifestations. One was an elderly woman strolling down a hallway with her walker. I'm sure that is a shocker to those reading this account! 

The other was not the spirit of a dead person but was either an energy ghost or an astral projection. It was the spectral manifestation of a living dog. The person who held the job prior to me used to bring her little dog with her. Pets were welcomed in this place, and this dog was just revisiting his old stomping ground. He frisked off down the hall, filled with joy.

In both of these situations I was euthymic. I did see the woman while waking up after having dozed off on the infamously uncomfortable short couch in the waiting area. She was "real" enough that I was afraid she might tell my supervisor that she'd seen me sleeping. However, as she walked down the hallway, she suddenly disappeared. The likelihood is that she wasn't a conscious apparition but rather an energy memory and wasn't aware of my presence at all.

The penguin that I saw in the hallway one night was a manifestation of severe sleep deprivation. I knew that's what it was when I was looking at it. It didn't bother me, but I knew that I needed to insist that my supervisor stop scheduling me every other night and allow me to actually have two nights off in a row so I could rest.

I have never seen with my eyes any of the spirits with whom I've formed strong emotional bonds. They are a different classification of spirit. They can be written off as my being mentally ill, emotionally needy, having too much imagination and so on, and most people probably do write them off that way. Those who write them off for these reasons may be correct. I choose to believe that they are not correct, and I share my story in case by chance I might be able to help someone who has experienced the same thing. 

Since I rarely receive comments of any sort on my writing, I don't know if I'm helping anybody or not. I keep writing because this is the sort of thing that I would have liked to read when I felt like I was going crazy, to let me know that there was a possibility that I wasn't crazy and that I wasn't alone. Maybe I'm only shouting into an empty room and hearing the echo of my own voice. I continue to share this lonely and misunderstood voice on the off chance that this isn't the case.

~Cie~

The Cheese Grates It: The Elephant in the Room

Had a nightmare which details why I never go to stuff like high school reunions, aside from, you know, the usual social anxiety.

I was with a couple of people that I'd hung out with in the past. Because of the way this society treats weight fluctuations, rather than these people reacting to me, the person, they reacted to the Elephant in the Room, aka, the fact that I'm bigger now than I was back when they knew me, when I was a lot younger and also full-on bulimic.

One of them said to me "you look good even though you got fat."

See, this is the sort of thing that people say. They think they're being kind while "keeping it real." Actually, this is a terrible thing to say, but it's the way we've been trained to think. Being fat is a terrible, horrible thing, like worse than being a child molester horrible. Yet it actually doesn't hurt anyone. Still, people will always find a way to drag a big person's size into the conversation. People can't just say "you look good" or even "it's good to see you."

I tend to steer away from talking about people's physical appearance. That's just what they look like, it isn't who they are. I prefer to say things like "how are things going," or "what have you been up to?"

But yeah, this is why you'll never see me at a high school reunion. Even though I've learned a lot about what being fat isn't (it isn't a horrible thing and it isn't even "unhealthy") thanks to size acceptance and Health at Every Size, I still don't like being The Elephant in the Room, and I always will be in such situations until a radical shift in thought happens. Hopefully one day such a shift will happen. I doubt it will happen in my lifetime.

~The Cheese Hath Grated It~