Dirty Rotten Scoundrel!

Last night, my Annie's little truck was broke into. The villain, made a mess of her truck, pulling everything out of the glove box and box between the seats. He/she made off with her hidden ipod, chargers, & accessories. All the change in her ash tray. And of all things, stole her tiara! Annie has had her tiara since she was 12. She wears it on her birthday, and whenever she wants to be a princess. She kept it on the car dash. It is just a cheap little rhinestone crown that has no value other than sentimental. She asked, "Seriously, who would take that?" I am so ticked. Annie is so sweet. I would have rather they hit our cars/trucks. Although it appears they may have tired. There are marks from where one of those Pop-A-Lock things went in through the window-rubber part on Annie's truck. There were marks on Sergio's truck, but Annie's must have been easier to manipulate. Looks like they tired to get Sergio's wheel rims.

The dogs have been jumpy. Several nights they went off, but we never saw anyone when they would and sometimes we just called them back in our room. Last night they slept through the night! We have had some hits on our street lately. We still think we are safe back in New Palestine. We forget how the city can be. Although in all fairness, our neighborhood in NP also was hit several times. Sergio claims to be sleeping in the Living Room tonight, thinking they will be back to finish his truck. I doubt it.
We feel violated once again. I really don't like this area. Some of the neighbors are so nice, but, I am anxious to move on and out!
I actually said a prayer for whoever did this. Really that is all I can do. (Yes, we had Annie file a report to the Police.) We lock our doors, have three loud watch dogs (okay, yes I realize they slept through it this time!) I am mad, but I think of how many things that could have been worse, and I am thankful, Annie is okay, Emily is okay, Sergio & I are okay, and our lovies, the cats & dogs are okay.So, chin up and carry on!

Deep In The Dark

Warning: This is not a fun post, you may want to skip it, sadly it is another haunting image that lingers within me.

Sometimes, something will trigger an old memory. Not always a bad thing, but unfortunately, often it is. Something that you file deep away, hoping it never resurfaces.

I hesitate to write about this. I have often thought about it, but it is personal and painful. The thing is, sometimes when I write, it helps so much and once it is out, easier to deal with.

The other day, I was thinking about my graying hair and anticipating my upcoming hair appointment. It got me thinking about bold women that are okay with their gray.

That's how I triggered the bad memory. I thought about a woman from my childhood who had no problem with her premature gray hair.

She was kind to me. My parents were best friends with her and her husband. It is the husband that I have a problem with. He molested me, more than once.

When I was very young, we had to kiss our parents friends goodbye. One day when I was about 8 I told my Mom, I hate kissing him because he doesn't kiss right. I told my Mom he kisses with his mouth open & sometimes pushes his tongue in my mouth. I didn't have to kiss him anymore. However, they remained friends, and I don't think they even questioned him.

Later in my teens I had to babysit their younger kids. I hated that. I wanted the wife to drive me home but he always did. He made me sit really close in his pick up truck and rubbed my thigh. Occasional, accidental touched me other places. He would make comments like, Don't let your boyfriends touch you like this or here. He acted like he was giving advice, but would actually touch me. I would ask him to stop, but was scared. I told my parents, but they still didn't stop things. I finally refused to babysit.

Once when I was in high school, my parents were out of town. My friend dropped me off at home, and I went in the house. I noticed D's car in front of the neighbors house, but not until I was in the house & caught it through the window. D came up from behind me, and started to touch & kiss me. I pushed & tried to get away. After just a few minutes of a struggle, my friend that dropped me off, was back & in the house. He had a "feeling" and returned, hearing me cry, came in & stopped things. My parents were supportive, but remained friends! They just kept me away from him. They said, well, he didn't actually have sex with me. It was this male friend that rescued me that helped me see that it was wrong! He told his parents who helped my parents see he needed to stay away from me.

I was so confused. I felt violated but they were right. He did not have sex with me. Was this molestation or not? I had no one to talk to about it. I felt ashamed. Maybe I was sending some kind of signals to him? Maybe I should have slapped him the first time he touched me? But I was a kid! I was scared. Why was he touching me?

Later when I was living in an apartment, we got a call that he had snapped. That his wife had found a box of photos and pictures that he had "created". He had taken pictures from Playboy magazine and cut out my face in photos he had taken, and taped them onto the naked body pictures. These were pictures of my face as a child on the bodies of women. sick sick. He was "recovering" but I was to "call the police" if I saw him. Apparently he had been following me he confessed. My parents then severed their friendship.

Many years later, my parents were having a birthday party for my Dad. They had decided to invite this man and rekindle their friendship. I almost didn't go. I had not seen him in so many years and was trying to put that behind me. I had become so over protective of my daughters, partly because of that happening to me. We went to Dad's party. All was fine till D got there. He tried to hug me, I almost threw up. I couldn't forget what he had done. Sergio pulled me aside and suggested we leave, that he couldn't bear seeing me so frightened. That this was a mistake. That he wanted to punch this old man for doing that to me. I went to get the girls while Sergio went to tell my folks. I found D talking to my daughter! I snatched her up and ran out the door.

I had nightmares for weeks following.

I think that, even though, this man did not actually have sexual intercourse with me, he most definitely raped me. It was a "forcible interference, a violent assault".. The piece of my innocence was stolen from me. A fear replaced it. Confusion and lack of security. I don't know why my parents reacted the way they did. I would have killed anyone that touched my daughters. At least press charges. I think that it confused me so much. I thought that I must have brought it on.

Damn him.

Here it is 30 some years later and I am still haunted by this violation. I get that sick feeling and can relive it. As soon as the memory is triggered I cringe.

I worry about the thousands of children that are in this same scenario. People think that their kids are safe within their family and friends when they are not necessarily. Most children that are molested are by adults they know and trust.

What a sick world we live in.

Disturbing My Peace

On Christmas evening, my husband shared something with me that he did not want to tell me. He loves me dearly and tries to protect me from unnecessary worry. This was something I needed to know and he decided he must let me in on it.

A couple of days prior to Christmas, someone tried to break into our home. Not earth shattering news, but enough to shake us up. To my knowledge, this is the first time this has happened to us, in our 22 years together.

I felt something was up. The dogs are especially jumpy and barked excessively since the 23rd. The slightest movement outside now rouse them. Particularly when someone bundled up in jacket, hat & gloves walked by. Bandit sits vigil on the couch propped up watching at the window 24/7 now.

Sergio showed me the marks on our front door. It looks as though someone pried the door open with a crowbar or something. Now the door pops open if not shut tight.

We suspect, that someone did this quietly during the day while we were out. Once the door opened it must have alerted the dogs and they scared off the intruder. Remember Riley is 105 pound Blue Tick Coon Hound and Bandit is a 60 pound Shepard mix with a snarl lip. (Quick scary when he wants!). Then Mr Dakota may only be a 10 pounder Pomeranian, but quite the ankle biter if he wants. Please that sharp piercing bark could make anyone run! Nothing was taken. And fortunately, my Dogs did not get hurt.

I truly believe they are the best security anyone could have. It is said that most Intruders will flee when a dog is in the house. It is too much of a hassle to deal with them.

I feel a piece of my sense of safety has been stolen. I don't blame the neighborhood. This can happen anywhere. A dear friend of ours lost all their electronics, Christmas presents and video games the week before Christmas. Our old neighborhood had several break ins through the years we lived there. We were just never hit. Again, we have always had dogs.

It is just another reminder that we must be careful. Also, good to have dogs.

Haunting Images

This is going to be depressing so forgive me, I just have something heavy on my heart and want to get it out.

Today, I saw a TRACKER. It is a little SUV wannabe. I hate them. They make me think about the last time my father tried to commit suicide. This was a few years ago. He drove his Tracker around for an hour. Passing the same Train Trestle again and again. Until his timing, speed, and nerve was in sync. Then crashed the Tracker into the Trestle. Although, like his other attempts, it was just not his time. He gave himself substantial injuries, but nothing life threatening. After time in the hospital & rehab, he returned home, but with more pains and more handicap. Trestle make me sad too. This attempt was different than his past. This one was personal. The night before, he had made a phone call to me, letting me know what a disappointment I was. And that I was ungrateful. That I was mean. If anything should happen to him, it would be on my shoulders. My fault. Thanks Dad. I still love you. I sat with my Mom through Dad's surgery. Mom showed the nurse and I the pictures of the bloody Tracker. Thanks Mom, I still love you.

Years earlier, he hung himself in a hotel room. My uncle found him just in time.

Prior to that, he overdosed when I was about eight.

My cousin, Rob, in a depressed fit shot himself with a shotgun in his front yard with his common law wife and son in the house. Rob, bleed a slow, painful death.

My Mom's mother locked herself and my Mom (she was around 9) in a bathroom and slit both her wrist. She blocked the door but my Mom was able to crawl out of the window to get help.

I somehow can picture these events even though I was not there. I have also been known to have haunting visions of hurting myself. I wont hurt myself. I have more respect for myself and my own family. I also feel this is an unforgivable sin. I love my family, my husband and girls. I have a good life and I want to enjoy it for a very long time. I wish I could make the visions go away. Surely it is a combination of genetics and the dysfunctional childhood we had. I do not blame anyone. I love my parents and know they gave me the best they could. It is not any one's fault we are all a little crazy. Kook Koo as Sergio says :) You have to teach yourself to laugh or you will cry.

Yeah, we have a few skeletons in our closets. Just a few.