The blog post about ‘something spoiled’.
This weeks episode is about RESPECT.
Respect
noun
1. a feeling of deep admiration for someone or something elicited by their abilities, qualities, or achievements.
2. due regard for the feelings, wishes, rights, or traditions of others.
3. a particular aspect, point, or detail.
-Oxford Languages
Let’s just start at the beginning.
Respect is drilled into us as “acceptable standards” from the time we are old enough to walk and talk.
‘Those who are older and bigger know better.’
But…
Is that really always true?
Also, why would you enforce this while throwing your child out in public unattended when they are old enough? Are you planning to be there when they are 40?
If so, I seriously hope you abandon your helicopter dreams.
Respect is one of my personal hardline.
I don’t know about you but I cannot tolerate someone disrespecting me. It is absolutely infuriating. It sends me to a place of wondering.. does Amazon sell 20lb head boxes? If so, then they really do have everything.
(If you don’t watch Smut Tv and/or Horror, a head box is essentially a damping studio that latches on your head and locks. Example, Blockhead- Silent Hill.)
Judge me if you’d like, but I promise in my 20 year military career I have seen the shit in your nightmares… first hand. It must be nice to be so sheltered, you can afford the luxury of judgements.
Anyways…
The United States Government does an amazing job at making military trainees understand respect. It is legitimate part of the culture. It does such a good job, that any meathead with an ego issue will come out of training and either go straight infantry or end up in the corrections and rehab battalion.
You do not want to be a female with one or more of these as your upper management. Only one of my units didn’t have one!
Respect is a thing of the past in todays society. We’ve managed to come to a place where young ones are being taught to defend themselves instead of hold the door for their friends. No one pays for a strangers meal, or sees a Vet with their hat on and thanks them.
We are reverting.
Personally, I have been disrespected quite a few times. Especially by those who I loved and cared about. This time was different, it started the beginning of March. This time the source was clear, it was the one person who has disrespected me my whole life…
The Woman Who Raised Me.
If you would have asked me last week, I would have told you how my mother was this unique mosaic of a woman. I would reflect on the few positive times I can remember and rely on my hope that our slowly repairing relationship would finally allow me to return to my hometown for the first time in 20 years.
This week, I will tell you the same thing but there is a change. I am going to tell you that she raised me, and I am very thankful for all that she did with and for me.
However, we no longer have a relationship.
This all changed on April 5, 2023.
I’m a prior post I spoke on losing my Grandfather. At the time that I wrote that post, I didn’t know how to communicate exactly the situation fueling my anger and sadness.
Today, I’ve decided to open up and although it may burn some bridges… y’all lit the matches. Watch ‘em burn.
March 27, 2023 at 11:03am I called my father. I was returning a missed call from the evening before. I had fallen asleep on the couch earlier than usual due to being sick from our trip to Washington, a week prior.
He answered and in a brief 8 minute conversation explained to me that my 101 year old Grandfather had fallen ill enough to go to the hospital.
I knew immediately that he wouldn’t be going back home. My grandmother had passed during the pandemic, and he had been living alone with that grief. Not to mentioned he was trapped in a glass cage due to his age and the increased risk of contracting Covid.
Due to my military service and having a family of my own, I was not able to return to visit following my 2007 hometown departure. So, we would talk twice a month on the phone. He would always tell me not to take any wooden nickels.
I had not been afforded the opportunity to attend my Grandmothers services due to the Covid travel bans. Yet, I also wasn’t invited to the virtual service either.
My father had called to ask me to come to my Grandfathers services, when the time came. I agreed. At the end of the call, I was told I would hear from him when it was time and to pack a go bag.
I got off the phone, called my boyfriend and my brother and proceeded to pack my bag. Once I was finished, I set my bags under my dressing table. My funeral clothes were hanging on the open closet door directly infront of my side of the bed.
For the next 5 days, I got to stare at all the stuff I was going to take to my grandfathers funeral. But because I wanted to look appropriately pressed, there was no other place to put them. It was great for my mental health.
Meanwhile, my personal hero was passing away and unlike the rest of my family, I once again couldn’t be there. All I could do is wait for a call…
…a call I would never receive.
My Grandfather passed away on April 2, 2023. He was buried by the family before the beginning of Passover on April 5, 2023. At 5:09pm I received a text message. My father was trying his best to hold it together and explain to me the last week. He stated that not everyone was able to fly in and they will be planning something in a couple of months for those of us left out. He would call Saturday when he could maybe hold himself together.
I responded respectfully. The full reality hasn’t caught up with me. I was still in the condition of making peace with losing a loved one while fighting the waves of severe depression and anxiety attacks.
It was around 7pm.
I had cancelled standing plans to go to the New Edition concert with my boyfriend (a once in a lifetime opportunity) and spent the last little bit of money I had left to purchase all my travel toiletries. I had $20 incase I needed something on the go. Everyone in my house was leaving the next morning.
Unfortunately for me, the next morning around 11am is exactly when it hit me. Everything else going on and I am waiting for my flat mates to take off.
Any normal person would be totally okay with someone leaving for the weekend, and I normally would have been too… but I was ashamed. I sat trying to hold back the tears as I kissed him goodbye. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I recall the click of the deadbolt. The next 28 hours of my life was going to be a triple header.
It was a party, and each one of my demons had decided to show up. We had RSD and Abandoment, PTSD brought the flashbacks and it was all hosted by Severe Depression & Anxiety. To boot, I was alone and I was very angry.
I felt invisible and disrespected.
There is something very different about being broken in such a way that you feel invisible. Especially when you’re in a room full of people.
It was the third time in my life I had needed the support of someone who loved me and just like before, they had all left. I laid in the floor, crying and paralyzed from my emotional pain. Watching the reflection of the daylight pass by on the bedroom wall, dazed and unable to move.
…and then it hit me…
The extremely urgent need to use the toilet, and it was still night. In reality, it was Saturday at 3am. I crawled back into bed and it was so cold. I was reminded I was alone. I couldn’t fall back to sleep.
I waited all of Saturday, April 8th for a phone call or a text. Fucking crickets until 3pm when the boys came home. My phone was still silent. It wasn’t until Sunday April 9th that a message would come through. It was from Mom.
I was being told that because of my past, I was the only direct family member that didn’t get to attend. A situation that had I not willingly given my parents my right, both me and my child would have been dead. Yet, despite my best efforts I was still being punished. The child that was more than pleased to have an open line of communication to its MOTHER three weeks earlier on their 18th birthday.
Yet, my mother would -for the second time- take any and all steps necessary to keep me away.
What my mother won’t openly admit to is, I have been trying to coordinate a visit for the last 10 years. Every time I try to make an effort, I get shot down.
This time, she had disrespected me to a breaking point.
You can only piss on someone so long without the decency of calling it rain before they realize it.
It’s shameful to think that a human being could claim to love and care about another, take them as their own, and raise them. Only to spend the next 30 years telling them all you ever wanted was for them to be happy. Yet, you are the one ALWAYS LIGHTING THE FIRE?
I am currently not speaking to any of those family members. I do not have the energy to waste on those who have spent a lifetime trying to control and manipulate me. I have no intention on rekindling any relationship with the woman known as JPK.
To end I am going to say this- since clearing these individuals from my social media, and making the split that was so publicly displayed at my Grandfathers funeral, they have decided to follow other accounts of mine. Eventually, if they haven’t already… they will find this.
When I was 10, you told me every action has an equal reaction. I had done something, and that was my consequence.
You have disrespected me, and hurt me for the last time. I no longer give you permission to be in my life. I truly am empathetic to the fact that we were suppose to be family. You’ve clearly shown through your actions that your words were lies. Please don’t contact me. I hope you find peace in the consequence of your actions. Goodbye, Mom.
That wraps up this weeks where’s the beef. Tune in next week when I spend all day writing a novel -🍋💋
🚢💋SEDONA SUNSETS💋🏴☠️ 