This morning I posted the story of Dobson abusing his dog and saying you need to do the same thing to willful children. After I posted it, I went on to post a couple other things I had queued up. Then I noticed something weird, the background colors of my blog had changed, and I couldn’t change things back to white, that made comments hard to see. I then decided to try shifting themes to something easier to use and cleaner looking. I started to do that and on the third one I tried I lost the entire right side bar. That upset me, I loved that sidebar with the stuff in it. I tried to recover it. The blog said it was there, and the new themes said it was there, but I couldn’t find it. Then I scrolled down to the bottom and it was there. I tried repeatedly to move it back to where it belonged, but nothing worked. So I found a good clean clear theme and set it as active. Then I started to go through each post I made this morning, and I found the Dobson one was even more screwed up than it was before and getting worse. The words were right to the edge of the pages past the margins. I had notice before that it seemed odd when I posted it but each time I tried to fix something that post looked weirder and weirder. I got the idea to open the link and then I went into the post editor and made a little correction to get the update button to light up. I hit the update. Then I checked the post itself. The post not only displayed normally but also my side bar had returned. All fixed. It took over three hours of my time but the blog is back and maybe even better. I think Dobson was trying to get revenge for me pointing out he is a complete insecure loser who has to beat little dogs and kids to feel manly and in charge. Hugs
Category: Scotties Rants / Blog Information
I sort of goofed here is a redo
Hello Everyone. 7 days ago I made a joyful post about my system being back up in a temporary place using the kitchen table. But when I got to the comments on that post I noticed that only one of the four pictures I tried to put in the post went in. Yes I need to start checking posts after I publish the post. So I took a video of the setup to show everyone. Yes I was speaking but the words are not important, the important thing is the visual of the setup. Best wishes and hugs.
OT: An update on how sick I was. I was really ill with a high fever, but I took Tylenol and it kept the fever down and it broke late last night. But today I have a baseball sized swelling under my arm in my arm pit. It is a swollen lymph node and it is irritatingly painful. I am not so much bothered by it but it freaked Ron out. He did not realize how sick I was yesterday. Hugs
Oh boy I am ill.
I am so ill. I got two injections yesterday afternoon. I got both my second shingle shot and my latest Covid booster. I was up all night, and both Ron and I got up at 2 AM. I went back to bed at 6 AM for an hour, but couldn’t sleep. So got up. But 9 I was shaking, running a high fever, aches over top of my normal pain levels. I went back to bed. I just got up at 3 PM and wish I had not. Ron has gone back to bed. I have been taking Tylenol to handle the fever and my pain pills for the aches and pains. However one side point. It is not much importance but James found a suspicious program, a key stroke logger on Ron’s I phone. So we are all dumping our devices in a couple days and doing a hard reset, but in the meanwhile I dumped both computers this morning before crashing after I backed the files up. I was far enough along that I can post and watch videos but I have hours of updates and fixes to do. If not days. Plus most of my security programs are not on there. One last thing. I was proudly on day 7 of comments I was answering and was doing that this morning before getting so ill. However I won’t be answering comments until the fever comes down and stays there. One other note I looked it up and a high level response like this to a Covid shot means that your immune system is running really well and already sees Covid as a virus threat that it responds against. Thank you. Hugs to all.
We Voted
Short note. We went and voted this morning. We got there about 10:30. It was great timing but glad I took my walker. There was no line and there were more workers than voters but by the time I got away from my very talkative check in worker and went to sit down there was only one seat and then as I was voting there was a line developing. But the worker wanted to talk all about the hurricane, what damage we got, what damage she suffered. She was a real gossip for sure. I sat on the seat of my walker and chatted with her. They have a different system for voting this time than for the primary. The primary was the large paper ballot with circles to be filled in with the pen they give you. But this set up they gave you a strip of paper about four or five inches wide and 10 inches long. Everyone sits at an electronic touch screen display, it walks you through the ballot and at the end it displays all your choices and lets you edit or change the vote. When all done it prints your choices on the strip of paper. You can then check it to make sure it prints what you chose on the paper, then you take it to the back of the room and insert it in a tabulating scanner. I like it a lot, it is easy to read, easy to use, and has ways to verify at every step. I am sure the rabid republican right will find a reason to hate it. But I was really struggling by the time we got to the tabulating stage and the worker had to help me get the strip into the scanner. I thanked all the workers for helping with the election and there were a lot of them. Then we went to the store for Ron to get a couple things on our way home. I was going to get my second shingles shoot and a Covid booster but I just was not feeling up to it, so as Ron waited in line I went back to the car. When Ron got to the car he said he had not realized how bad I was until he watched me put the walker in the back of the car and then hang on to the side of the car to walk to the front. He tried to cross the parking lot as fast as he could to help me but I managed. We got home and I went to bed until about 2:30 or so. But we did it we voted, I hope against bad feelings the Democrats win the races. Hugs
The inside of my head is starting to reverberate with my internal screams again.
Damn it! Dogs that love gravy, thank you for the peace you gave. I am not sure how many hours I got without the screams, without the feelings, but it must have been 5 or more hours. I did so many things, I researched our voting ballot for tomorrow, I helped make supper, cleaned it all up and put the dishes in the dishwasher, helped James with his washing, folded and put away my left-over laundry, basically I kept busy. But the background sound of the abuse is starting to build up in the back of my mind. The muffled screams I wanted to make. I am starting to get concerned and wanting to shut it down before it rises to a level I have to deal with it. Again
People don’t understand what my life is like, why I insist on constant media input. This is why. I don’t want to hear my own cries of pain in my memories. I want to drive the memories back, to keep them at bay, hidden and the worst of them locked in a chest wrapped in chains then thrown into the deepest part of the ocean. Most of the time I succeed in that. Most of the time I am so busy with other issues, other demands that it is only a distant cry at the edge of my hearing. I can live with it like that.
But sometimes like recently and happening far more often, those cries get louder and activated by what I read or hear they burst the chains and come raging at me, threatening me, trying to take me over and then dragging me down into the abyss that is the memories of the past.
While writing this my apple watch went off with a high heart rate alert, when I looked at it was 133 beats a minute. That is well down from what it was earlier, but still spiking too high. James set up our phones for him to be notified when our health readings get too high / low so he keeps asking me if I am OK. What do I tell him. Ya sure I say, it must be an error of the watch I tell him. I took my watch off. How can I tell him the memories playing on a loop in my head? He doesn’t need that in his head, and even though he knows I was abused in my childhood what would he think hearing all this? Then I remember a decade ago when we were watching TV and something in a movie we were watching and a part came up about child sexual abuse came on the screen and he leaped off the couch and slammed the TV off later telling me he forgot that was in there. So he knows, but I don’t want him to know the details. I mean really who would right?
I have to go to bed, everything is done except replying to more comments, there is no more news I want to read. Yet I don’t want to go, and don’t feel tired. I know why. I am scared of what will happen if I sleep. The same thing that happened last night when I started thrashing around and first murmuring then letting out loud cries, Ron then woke me up. It is not worth going to bed to live that anymore. The doctors tell me they can give me medications but those don’t stop the memories, they simply stop me reacting to them. Anyway, good night, until I go to bed I am going to answer comments. Many warm hugs for all. I hope I can sleep
Struggling, trying not to totally freak out
While not the point this gets graphic at some points. This is what I am going through today and my feelings. Right now after I wrote this and sat here before I posted it, I realized this could really trigger some people. I am also suddenly aware that there are people who could read this with my experiences and it would hurt them to read it. This started as a way to express my losing my mind and going crazy with my memories and thoughts. I ended up writing more of the abuse. I helped me calm down and adjust. Hugs and love to all, but some may want to skip this post.
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I am struggling not to lose my mind. I can hardly function. In my mind the abuse event I wrote about where one of the boys in the home I grew up in who I think was at least 6 years older than me violently hurt raped me. It replays like a porn show in my head, a child rape movie only the star was me. I am reliving the feelings, the pleading I did, the promises I tried to make, I am replaying every moment in my mind on a loop, the pain, what he said, and that it was not the first or last time he used me … and I may soon go crazy. Most times I can push it back, push it away.
I tried to push it away by diving into the news. I couldn’t get out of bed this morning, Ron was stunned I was still laying there awake at nearly 8 AM. I have tried leaving the computer to do housework, but … It is still there playing over and over and over. My feelings of helplessness. Not being able to change what I knew was coming. How suddenly it happened that night, how angry he was. I turned on the Majority Report to get progressive news to try to clear my mind and they had a segment on the republicans trying to introduce a federal don’t say gay bill based on the Florida bill. It wouldn’t have protected me in anyway as a kid, but it would basically make me a gay man illegal in public.
I have to look up the Florida ballot information because we are going to vote tomorrow. I cannot think, I can’t process. The feelings are surging and cascading over me. Normally I could get him to let me use a lubricant like hand lotion or anything because he did not care as long as he got to fuck me and cum. I don’t know what happened that day or night to him, but whatever it was he wanted me to pay for it. Lucky for me it was not my first time with a hurt rape. Hell not my first time with being raped, it happened a lot to me back then. Shit what a statement to have to write. And to tell the truth most of the time being raped with a chance to put something on it was better than being hit, better than having a belt used on me until I shrank as much into a corner or wall as best I could.
One summer in Canada almost every afternoon I was locked in a barn and chased around by a couple with canes until they cornered me and hit me until I was curled up on the ground, then forced to give the man a blowjob. I tried to cut out the beating but they wanted that part. Every inch of me seemed to hurt that summer.
Once I couldn’t stop it and knew that pleas and promises wouldn’t change things … once I felt it start, I knew how to relax my anus, to try to keep it from ripping or tearing me. It hurt and he wanted that, he wanted to see me try to hold in my pain and any scream. For me to scream or yell would be worse for me, anyone who came to see wouldn’t help me and might join in. In my mind I hear and feel every anguished cry that I struggled to contain. My apple watch has gone off repeatedly today with alerts with high heart rates.
I am calmer right now. I am struggling to remember my age then, it was either 8 or 9 I think. I want to sleep, I want my mind to stop. Writing this post seems to have calmed me down some. I am going to go empty the dryer that just went off and fold the clothing. I am hoping desperately the memories will stop or change to something better. I am not sure I can stand to keep living this. I use to have a cat that would seem to know when I was having these memory loops and come be all over me. I need him now. Hugs
**edit note, before I posted this I went back and added a note at the beginning. I don’t want to hurt anyone else who may also be suffering. Hugs**
Ethan Crumbley admits guilt to murder in Oxford High School shooting
I read this quote in the story.
“It was cold-blooded what he did,” Mueller said. “While he may have been dealt a bad set of cards with the parents, it’s still a choice that he made to do the harm and bring the tragedy to Oxford.”
I have mentioned on my other blog about after having been raped violently with no chance to get lube because my sibling from hell of my adoptive parents wanted me to feel as much pain as possible because I was not a real member of his family. He then did something that to this day hurts more than the rape, after he was done and got what he wanted he rolled over in my tiny bed and fell asleep. He slept in my own bed! (Later he claimed the excuse he had been drinking and I should just forget it) Something broke in me. I did something I never did before. Looking back, I am not sure what I felt, but I got up out of the bed and went through the mobile home to the adoptive parent’s room and took the 30 30 gun off the rack and opened the drawer in the bedroom I knew the bullets were in and left. Unlike the other hell spawn, I never had gotten to use or learn the guns, but I understood enough from watching the others. I never woke anyone. I loaded the gun on the way back to my room. I went back to my room and put that gun to that male sibling’s head and went to pull the trigger, his goading words ringing in my head as the pain from what he did rang though my body making every step a fresh prodding of the wound. To this day even as an atheist / nonbeliever in the supernatural I will swear under oath what happened next is true. I am not saying it is supernatural, but I am saying this is my memory of the event.
As I put the gun barrel to his head and prepared to take my revenge on that drunken asshole who had just gloated as he hurt raped me, I heard a voice. I think all the things the voice said I don’t remember clearly these days. But the voice started with a strong “No, Don’t! Stop”! Then continued with “This is not who you are, not what you will be”! “Don’t let them make you what they are, be the person you can be”! There were more words in my head and to tell the truth at my age they are tending to blur out. But the voice was pleading with me to not pull the trigger and to not be what these hateful bastards wanted to make me.
I made a decision that night that I have never regretted. I put the gun back after emptying the bullets, put everything back and vowed I would never be like the vindictive hurtful people who adopted me. I would take everything they forced on me and I would still become the kind of person I wanted to be, the kind of person I respected. I tell this story because we really don’t know what the full story is of Ethan Crumbley and why he felt such a need to take others’ lives. Was he also being hurt raped? Was he being kept hungry while others ate? Looking at my own life I could have been him, as if I had pulled that trigger that night why would I have stopped at just the one in my bed, why wouldn’t I have gone after all of them. Do you see why I have sympathy for this kid? We don’t know what was going on in his life. We do know what his parents did, they lied, ran and tried to escape justice by hiding.
OK I have to get away from this and from these thoughts. I have decided to make a red sauce for spaghetti tonight. Ron has tried to help direct me toward that and I will do so as it is a good Idea. The combination of my old memories (for those that think the pain or humiliation fades, for me it doesn’t. In my nightmares that Ron tries to wake me from they are as fresh as the times it happened) and the loops in my head are threatening to bring the vortex in, something I really cannot afford. So Ron will make a pork loin to go with the stuff I make. Hugs, loves, and so many thanks to everyone.
I am emotionally torn and upset.
This morning I watched the Ethan Crumbley hearing where he admitted to the killings and the judge told him the possible sentences. He will get life with no parole in prison. He is 16 years old. He committed the murders at 15 years old. He killed other kids, no minimizing that.
But the US justice system is not about rehabilitation, it is about vengeance and punishment. Mostly punishment. The fact is with for profit prisons and every effort at cost cutting the people in prison live in some of the most horrible conditions they cannot escape from no matter how well they may try to improve themselves and they can never redeem themselves. We have all heard the stories of food so bad that it has bugs in it, mold all over the bread or other items, meats that are green and slimy that shouldn’t ever be consumed. That is just the food. The stories about non-existence of healthcare with lack of any medications. Then there is the conditions that prisoners are forced to live in that exploit them at every turn. If they want any comfort they must buy it at often highly inflated prices, but the only access to funds for most is prison set up labor, where often the prison hires out the prisoner as slave labor with no rights for a huge profit to the prison authorities but only pennies for the prisoner, but what choice do they have? Earn nothing and suffer with no ability to have anything including food that is not unfit to eat, or do the slave labor knowing how badly you are being abused. But the worst thing I think is beyond the constant lifelong every second of your life having someone tell you what you can do, must do, not do, no rights for any movement except that approved by someone else. You are an adult treated like a 3 year old. But add to that is the living conditions. For profit prisons are notorious for making the living conditions as unpleasant as possible to save money, so they give no temperature controls making prisoners either swelter in the unbearable heat or suffer the cold with no way to keep warm or leave to get warm. One more thing you have no body privacy. Other people have the right to see and inspect your genitals and look into your anus any time they want, the people in charge have the right to watch you shower. This 16 year old boy will be made to be nude in front of other people and display himself on his return to his prison despite being under constant observation of law officers the entire time. Plus if you look at the video he is in a jumpsuit with his feet / legs shackled together and his cuffed to his waste. They did release his right hand so he could raise it to swear the oath.
What has me crying, emotionally upset, and torn up barely able to deal with my thoughts. This boy has been in jail for 11 months. He committed the crime at 15 and he is now 16. He will be in some prison for the rest of his life. His only out will be either killed or a natural death 60 years from now. During that time his life will be hell. Pure punishment. He is young and kind of cute with longish hair … I know what he will face, I had it done to me. He will adjust and try to deal but others will take their pleasure out of his body and he won’t have any way to stop them. Unlike me he cannot escape or hide from the abusers. He faces constant physical violence and danger of harm. I know what it is like to be stabbed while eating, more than once a fork was embedded in my body. Mostly my hand or arm. From an early age I learned supper at the table was dangerous and got used to looking for the signs of violence about to happen and sliding quickly under the table. I got really good at quickly dropping under the table and trying to shut out what was happening above. Not that if I was the target being under the table was safe, but it gave me avenues to try to escape. I was so undernourished and thin because who can eat knowing that at any time the adults at the table will start throwing things and hitting each other or coming after me for something. One doctor who examined me said I was so underdeveloped I would be lucky to be over 5 foot tall as an adult. This will be Ethan’s life for the next 60 years. I was able to eat at school and hide from supper, but for him to do that he has to do the slave labor to buy food that is not provided. He faces constant threats of abuse from other prisoners, the guards that are said to protect he will also be a threat to him, he wont have access to medical health or needed mental health, he will suffer and suffer for a lifetime of maybe 60 years. And some people think that is justice.
An update and ending. I had more to write on this but I think you get my point you can look up anything you need to, I just got done throwing up which woke Ron from his nap. He came out and wanted to know why I was sick and crying. When I tried to tell him but really couldn’t he wanted me to shut the computers off. He did not know the specifics, but he was sure it had to do with something on either computer. He asked me repeatedly to shut them off and play Halo on the Xbox. I like Halo, it makes me feel better as I get to be the ultra strong hero stopping the bad guys. But in this Ron doesn’t understand. My retreating into fantasy will help me right now, but it wont help anyone of the people in the broken prison system in the US, it wont help Eathan who is a kid his parents destroyed and set up for this. I have a suspicion more will come out, the parents did not flee and lie so because they bought the gun, that makes no sense. I suspect there was a much worse home life for Ethan that will come out. Not that it will matter for him now, our vindictive hateful society will have their revenge. I just wish they would add one more death to the total lost that day, his life also was lost forever it will just take him longer to die.
One more thought. For those that have a weird view that death is worse than a lifetime of rape, punishment, abuse, harm, pain, hurt, being scared, having to use a toilet in the open, having to shower in front of everyone, and all the rest … what is your mental defect. Many times in my childhood I felt death was better. I just never got to the point of doing it simply because I did not know how. I did put some effort into it, but back then no internet. Death even in the bible is the dead no not nothing! Damn that is better than some of the things I mentioned above.
Anyway, this is week we have to vote and the state for the first time I have lived here did not send out a sample ballot for our voting district. They only have a county wide version of the ballot online. This is the first year the republicans have been in charge of our county voting and they are making it as hard as possible to find information on any of the things on the ballot. I was to look up all the judges that need retention and other provisions on the ballot that fills nearly three pages in a PDF file. Most of this won’t be on my ballot but I have no way to know. But with my mind / emotions the way they are right now it is a struggle to even think or concentrate? Damn I want to go hide in my bed. But my mind keeps going back to the life this poor bastard will have. I don’t agree it is justice or in any way what is best for society. If we really want him removed from society just kill him. Don’t give him a sentence of 60 years of punishment. That if revenge, that is sadistic. That is not what humans should do.
Ok I am done, drained of any ability to say more. Best wishes and hugs to all. I am not even going to proof read this for mistakes, what is then it is. I feel the pain in every part of my body and all my fear responses are wanting me to flee but where would I flee to? Hugs
What a day yesterday was
The day started with both Ron and I in too much pain to stay in bed. So about 5:30 after he tried to go back to sleep for an hour or so I had been awake since 2 AM, we got up. I got a call yesterday from an older woman in the park with some internet issues. I went to her home and fixed them. The internet provider told her that to fix the problems she was have she needed to rent their equipment rather than as she had done buy her own. That was a huge lie. The thing with the internet provider is that they rent their equipment for a lot of money per month. She just needed to have everything reconnected after the hurricane. After doing my duty getting her computer to see her printer and things like that, about 90 minutes later I got home.
Then the guys decided to take the fan and other stuff hooked up in the front room / my former office down and put it up in our bedroom. It was not until they got it up that they thought to look for the remote which is the only way to control the fan. James says he gave it to me along with the alarm keypad. I remember the keypad and placed it in my closet. But have no memory of the remote to the fan. A search for the remote began in the house, but no remote was found. So James changed the control boxes for the one in the bedroom with the one in the living room that did have a remote. After three or four hours with power on and off, the fan was up and still did not work. Seems there was a switch out that needed to be turned on. Ok fan works. Then I found the company’s contact number online, and Ron called them. At first they were going to send a new control unit and remote, then they said they may need to replace the fans we have because they have recalls on them. Crap. Well if they replace them great, if for some reason they don’t crap. By then it was too late to blog, and we ate a late supper that let me know I ate too much far too late at two in the morning. After I ate, I went to bed. That was yesterday. Hugs
A new bed in the Miller home
An exciting day at the Miller household. After 32 years together with both Ron and I never having a new bed except for the king mattress in the RV, we finally bought a new bed. All our lives Ron and I have had hand me downs and unlike other people we knew we did not think having new furniture such as living room sets every 5 years was important. But we put up with our old bed frame mattress / box spring that we got from the park model we had when we sold it for far too long. Hey it was better than ours and we gave our old one to James. But it was already in rough shape then. After a decade or more it just gave up any resemblance to a mattress. Ron was sliding out of bed at night and I got unpleasant wake ups from the springs that sprung. It was so bad I finally put my foot down and made Ron throw it out. He put the queen air mattress we have on the box spring frame. But an air mattress that high from the floor was dangerous so I made him get rid of the box springs. Now it was not that we did not have the money for a bed. Ron was going through another anxiety event and wouldn’t spend any large amounts of money from savings. Spending for groceries and the electric bill sent him into a panic. (Side note I have finally talked in him to see a counselor and seeing his doctor to get back on his prior anxiety meds or start new ones. He is OK with me seeing a person to deal with my nightmares / issues when my abuse memories get too bad but he fights doing it himself.) Anyway after the first air mattress started not holding air and the act of getting down to it and up from it being so hard for both of us, and the fact that every time one of us rolled over it was like being on a ship at sea or an unbaffled waterbed. Ron went out and bought a new queen air mattress like he solved the problem.
I had had enough! My back and hips wouldn’t tolerate this situation. Ron also was in pain. I insisted we buy a new king bed storage bed with a bookcase headboard. And a new mattress. Well Ron spent nearly a month looking at mattresses and then James helped him. The one Ron like best was the Purple Hybrid Premier® 3 that was going to cost us about 3,500 or a bit more with sales tax. He went back and forth until I finally just ordered the damn thing. Yes it is expensive but it has a 10 year warranty and a bunch of other things and it is the first mattress I have bought in 58 years. Now we needed a bed frame to put it on. We looked at frames and decided we wanted a storage bed with a headboard. First we looked at IKEA storage frames with no headboard because they are cheaper. But we couldn’t get it and we had already ordered the Purple mattress so we had to get the frame ordered. I went on Amazon and after we looked at what must have been millions of beds for 100s of years we bought an ACME Furniture Ireland Storage Bed, Eastern King, Gray Oak. That had the storage drawers we wanted and had a large bookcase headboard. Yes it was another $1600 dollars out of savings but again the first new bed we ever bought. We are worth it. We bought these on the first of September and Ron has freaked out about the cost every day since. Yesterday they were to deliver the mattress but it was delayed until tomorrow which works out much better for us.
Today they delivered the bed. Two really nice looked Hispanic guys with arms the size of tree trunks and shoulders wider than the 36 inch doors in our house drove from Miami to deliver the boxes of bed parts. Nice guys. But two of the boxes were over 100 pounds and the guys picked them up and carried them like it was a small cat. I did not know they made humans that size. My dogs that love gravy!!!!! They had spent 4 or more hours to get here, they had deliveries from here all the way back to Jupiter Florida on the other coast then to go home. A super long day but they were all smiles jokes and happy. I adored them. Those kinds of people I love.
James and Ron are putting the bed together now. I am staying in my office. The bedroom is large but two guys who each think they know best how to do things don’t need me in the mix. By tonight I will have a new king bed with a queen air mattress on it. Then tomorrow they bring the Purple mattress that I am sure must have gold inserted in it. Then finally I will be able to sleep in comfort and maybe get a full nights sleep instead of waking at 2 am, getting up at 3 or 4 AM, going back to bed at 10 am, getting up and then going to bed at 6 or 7 PM. I am excited. Hugs
Scottie's Playtime 