collage no names

Moving On

As hard as it is to come to terms with, I realize that my talent alone cannot carry this site, though I’ll never quite understand that…

Aside from what I feel is already a first-rate staff, I’d love to give others with my passion an outlet for their work and, personally knowing the satisfaction that it brings – as crazy as that may sound to those of you not blessed/cursed with the “gift” of pen to paper – the pride of having it seen by others.

If this passion burns inside of you – alright, I’ll cut the schmaltzy hogwash – if you dig writing and want a chance to put it out there, drop me a line and we’ll see what comes of it. (KMFPthe@gmail.com)

 

Moving On – by Anonymous

I always feel a need to explain myself to others when I say that I don’t have a relationship with my mother. She used to be a raging alcoholic, but now she is a highly functioning one. I know that this isn’t who she really is and that addictions take over the ones we love the most.

JH1It is a very disheartening process and it unfortunately strikes many people.

Recently, I have cut her out of my life in the most complete way. It wasn’t mean and not a lot of words were exchanged, but it feels like my soul released toxins from itself. My anxiety is at an all-time low and I am a much happier person.

Compared to my siblings, my mother and I barely had a relationship. It was the best it had been for us since I was a pre-teen… before she started drinking again. I am not sure why it is different, but I am glad. I am truly happy that my siblings have a different relationship with her and their kids know their grandmother.

I would never want the situation reversed, no matter how many tears have fallen. She did a lot of terrible things before this, but the purpose of my writing isn’t to tell you how terrible she can and has been. It is to know that it is ok to let toxic people go, even if they are your family.

You are the only person who can truly make yourself happy, don’t let others get you down – NO MATTER WHO THEY ARE!

When I was in college, my mother would call me screaming about random terrible things. This was a time before I had the strength to not answer when she called me. The want and need to have a relationship with my mother pulled tightly at my heart, so I answered almost every time. It usually didn’t go well. I would fall back into a deep depression after every phone call.

My life felt like one step forward and two steps back. I wouldn’t speak to her off and on for various reasons, most had to do with her actions. The internal need to feel loved by her felt like gravity and I would fight it, but the instinct would win each time. It was a high feeling when she would show me love, like I couldn’t get enough of it.

She, of course, knew it.

I eventually became icy when I was around her, even when things were good. It was my only defense against her when she became cruel. If she couldn’t read my emotions, then she wouldn’t know how to hurt me.

The screaming phone calls came less and less and things were better for a time. When I would tell her something positive in my life, she would take over the phone call about her “Glory Days” and run over my positive news. I took those types of call over the ones we previously exchanged.

JH2I wanted her to get healthy so bad that I offered her help in every aspect of her life that was negative. She hated her house, so I offered to help fix it up on numerous occasions. Felt ugly because of wardrobe, so I offered to buy her new clothes. The list goes on and on.

She was always immediately excited, but once we got to the store to get paint or Kohl’s to buy something new, she wanted to wait for some unknown reason. I finally stopped asking and offering, because I didn’t think she really wanted change. It was either scary or she wouldn’t have anything to complain about.

The only ammunition my mother had left to hurt me was my relationship with my siblings.

I honestly didn’t know that there was anything left she could hurt me with, but I left myself wide open. It was a shock and a surprise when she got in the middle of us and used manipulation, it destroyed me completely.

For two weeks I had crippling anxiety and slipped into a deep depression. It had been years since I allowed her to do that to me.

Yes, “allowed”, because I have control of how I react to events and what events I will take part in.

My mother refused to tell them the truth and tried to turn the events on me, this was the point of no return for me. It wasn’t a breaking point, because it wasn’t climactic at all. It was as though something fell off of me and I realized that she can’t hurt me anymore.

No amount of hitting, screaming, guilting, manipulating, or any type of abuse can hurt me anymore. She played her very last hand and it was over, finally over!

I don’t wish my mother any ill will or hope something bad happens to her. I will always love her, but it has to be from afar. I honestly hope that she quits drinking and starts making positive life choices for herself.

JH3I wish her the best and I hope that she forgives herself for the horrific things she has done throughout her life, not just to me, but to a lot of people. I wish her a peaceful mind and a wonderful life, even though I do not ever wish to be in it again.

It has taken a few years of therapy to know that I am worthy of love and that I can walk away from any toxic situation or relationship. I used to be mad at the world for what my mother put me through – I didn’t want to live like that anymore.

It turned my life from thinking negative all of the time to positive. I am complimented each day for how positive I am and how I live my life to the fullest.

I am not perfect, but I try to be a better person each and every day.

 

(Other “Be My Guest” column ARCHIVES: http://www.thekmfp.com/category/be-my-guest/)

Honesty

As hard as it is to come to terms with, I realize that my talent alone cannot carry this site, though I’ll never quite understand that…

Aside from what I feel is already a first-rate staff, I’d love to give others with my passion an outlet for their work and, personally knowing the satisfaction that it brings – as crazy as that may sound to those of you not blessed/cursed with the “gift” of pen to paper – the pride of having it seen by others.

If this passion burns inside of you – alright, I’ll cut the schmaltzy hogwash – if you dig writing and want a chance to put it out there, drop me a line and we’ll see what comes of it. (KMFPthe@gmail.com)

 

People Change – by Anonymous

Honesty.

It’s a simple word yet it’s the toughest thing to do. I try to be as honest as I can within reason. There is so much more I would like to say and tell people in all aspects of my life.

H1 - CopyFamily; there are few I would like to tell how they constantly hurt me with stories from the past about how I was treated different because I chose one parent over the other during their divorce. I was a child but it was not fair to treat me different for the rest of my life or tell me how I wasn’t wanted.

After being told these things, I was able to look back and see how true it was. At the time I was unaware.

Because of those things, I can’t be honest myself about some things because I know it would hurt those around me and make things awkward. I want to say how things bother me about the way the people in my life are treating each other and their attitudes.

I would love to tell a few how I honestly feel. Some I can’t stand because of loud and annoying tendencies they have, others I think are great and attractive, and how some are just there in my life.

The friends in my life – I would like to tell a few off, and others how much they affect me without knowing. Some just do and say the dumbest stuff while others ignore the fact that I am trying to remain their friends while they ignore me… won’t even return a text.

Some I would like to just sit down and open up wholeheartedly to but feel I will be judged too harshly. I shouldn’t feel that way but people today don’t know how to be real friends. And this is about honesty so I am being just that.

Like some of the others I would like to tell them they are great and attractive while others I just think “what the hell?”

Work is a whole new ball game. There is just so much I would love to say to my boss. The way things are delegated and handled at the top is a joke. It used to be a family-based company, as far as for them and the employees, but not anymore.

It’s about one family… theirs and making them rich. Would be nice if things would go to the way they were when the employer cared about those working for them.

I am not sure the world could actually handle if everyone were totally honest because there would be a lot of hurt feelings. With the way society is today, those hurt feelings would most likely end in more lawsuits or fights, or any way that isn’t progressive.

Everyone would know where they would stand with each other but that’s not necessarily a good thing.

H2 - CopyI am one of the most honest persons I know but I do hold back. There is such a thing as too honest, or honest to a fault.

So to those of you out there… you are assholes, you keep screwing up, you are very attractive and I’m drawn to you, you need to handle your shit better, and you are great and I love you.

You figure out who you are and where you stand.

If I were to tell you… then things would just get weird. So be selective with your honesty, but still be as honest as you can.

That’s how I live and will continue to do so.

 

(Other “Be My Guest” column ARCHIVES: http://www.thekmfp.com/category/be-my-guest/)

Crushingly Beautiful

As hard as it is to come to terms with, I realize that my talent alone cannot carry this site, though I’ll never quite understand that…

Aside from what I feel is already a first-rate staff, I’d love to give others with my passion an outlet for their work and, personally knowing the satisfaction that it brings – as crazy as that may sound to those of you not blessed/cursed with the “gift” of pen to paper – the pride of having it seen by others.

If this passion burns inside of you – alright, I’ll cut the schmaltzy hogwash – if you dig writing and want a chance to put it out there, drop me a line and we’ll see what comes of it. (KMFPthe@gmail.com)

 

Crushingly Beautiful – by Anonymous

There are times in our lives that we need a boost or a leg up to make the world a little more stable. I had been wearing the same clothes for two weeks, some of them unwashed.

The foster system was an unknown, scary place that I had only heard horror stories about. My mother and stepfather told me that girls were beaten and raped when they enter and are never seen again.

CB1From the last encounter with my family, I knew I stood a better chance on the “what if” than in my house. Death or an “accident” would have happened and they promised it if I told anyone what was going on.

My mother was drastically losing control of her once perfect life and threw us down the rabbit hole with her.

When I entered the system, I only had the clothes on my back; ripped boy pants, a throw away black t-shirt, a bra that had the wires poking out at either sides, broken sandals, and my underwear. I wasn’t looking back and hoping for my clothes back, because the future held more for me than the past.

My mother was forced to give me a bag of clothes before I went into my first foster home. She sent a bag that consisted of one sock, one shoe, my sister’s size zero jeans, and my stepdad’s ripped jacket.

All unusable…

When I was placed in my foster home it was unnatural – the people were not monsters as my family had promised. They were not warm and kind, but they were much better than where I came from. So, I kept my mouth shut.

My first day back to school was rough. Everyone wanted to know where I had been and why. I didn’t tell anyone and I didn’t shed a tear for myself. I was under the impression that crying was weakness and admitted defeat. My good friend asked me about my situation in our Math class and I told him that I didn’t live at home anymore.

What about your stuff?” He asked.

I told him, “This is all I own.

He didn’t say anything else the entire hour. The next day was very similar to the first and it was really depressing. I came to school in the same clothes I wore for the last 14 days; they were getting pretty ragged from the extra wear.

I went to my Math class expecting it to go like every other class, but something unexpected happened.

My friend had a very large bag with him and a smile plastered on his face. He handed me the bag and said, “I just had these clothes lying around my house and I was going to donate them. Can you see if you would like anything before I give them away?

CB2I knew that he was trying to not make me embarrassed and feel like a charity case. It was very kind of him to take this approach.

I softly said, “Thank you” with my head towards the floor.

Later that night, I opened the bag on my borrowed bed and found many t-shirts and pants. I didn’t care that they were boys’ clothes or that they were a little big; I loved all of them.

I instantly started crying.

It was the first glimmer of hope that I had in a long time and it felt crushingly beautiful.

 

(Other “Be My Guest” column ARCHIVES: http://www.thekmfp.com/category/be-my-guest/)

People Change

As hard as it is to come to terms with, I realize that my talent alone cannot carry this site, though I’ll never quite understand that…

Aside from what I feel is already a first-rate staff, I’d love to give others with my passion an outlet for their work and, personally knowing the satisfaction that it brings – as crazy as that may sound to those of you not blessed/cursed with the “gift” of pen to paper – the pride of having it seen by others.

If this passion burns inside of you – alright, I’ll cut the schmaltzy hogwash – if you dig writing and want a chance to put it out there, drop me a line and we’ll see what comes of it. (KMFPthe@gmail.com)

 

People Change – by Anonymous

People change.

Not everyone does but some do.  When I was younger I was part of the “in crowd”, thought I was something and believed the friends I had then were close and forever.

PC1Now – as I repeatedly look back… I see I was an ass.

I was helped to realize this because of social media.  I have requested some friendships and have either been denied or ignored.  It’s an eye opener.

What I used to think was funny was actually hurtful, but at the time I didn’t realize it or I probably just ignored it.  I used the way I treated others as a type of enjoyment for myself and to entertain others around me.

People would say it was because I was younger and didn’t know better.  We knew better.  We knew the difference between right and wrong and we can see when we hurt people.  I didn’t do it physically, but verbally and a little mentally.

I have reached out and messaged a few directly and also was ignored and not responded to… and I don’t blame them.

I wouldn’t want to be friends or be reminded of my past by a name I was hoping to forget.  It hurts me that my name is synonymous with the term “bully”, but I cannot change my past – and I have my present.  I do what I can for others and do so without making a fuss.

I don’t like attention anymore.  Good or bad.

I would like a second chance, but not everyone is willing to give it.  I have been thinking about this a lot lately because of the loneliness I feel.  I am not completely alone, I have a family that I love and love me in return.

I am not the same person who I was back then and I am relieved they didn’t know that person.  I have new friendships but I am not really known by anyone.  I don’t let people in because I myself don’t know who I really am.

PC2… I just know who I am not anymore.

I will keep doing what is right and helping when I can, but – most important – I will keep reaching out to those from my past to make amends.  I will raise my kids to be like the person I am… and not the one who I was.

I am on them constantly about doing the right thing and being a good person. I AM one of the people who have changed and will continue to do so.

 

(Other “Be My Guest” column ARCHIVES: http://www.thekmfp.com/category/be-my-guest/)

Is It Just Me??

As hard as it is to come to terms with, I realize that my talent alone cannot carry this site, though I’ll never quite understand that…

Aside from what I feel is already a first-rate staff, I’d love to give others with my passion an outlet for their work and, personally knowing the satisfaction that it brings – as crazy as that may sound to those of you not blessed/cursed with the “gift” of pen to paper – the pride of having it seen by others.

If this passion burns inside of you – alright, I’ll cut the schmaltzy hogwash – if you dig writing and want a chance to put it out there, drop me a line and we’ll see what comes of it. (KMFPthe@gmail.com)

 

Is It Just Me?? – by Anonymous

Am I the only one that feels this way?

I live in a house with my spouse and two children, work around a bunch of people, and attend a church with numerous members… yet nobody knows me. I am surrounded by people but have a constant feeling of loneliness.

BMG1I give a great performance of a strong, outgoing, and happy person. Deep down, I don’t even know who I am. I don’t like what I do for a living, or – more accurately – who I work for. I feel lost in every part of my life. I want more but I’m not sure what it is.

I feel I should be doing more to help others and constantly offer yet nobody takes me up on it. I try to be a good, true friend to most who say they are my friend in return – but they all seem like a one-sided friendship. I can go days or even a week without my phone going off with a phone call or text to see how I’m doing.

Nobody calls just to chat, and when I reach out I feel as though I’m being a burden. I don’t have a friendship where we share inside jokes or have memories that just we share. I have no stories that start with “Remember that time when we… “.

My phone does however go off when somebody needs something. “Can you do this or do that for me; I will give you some money?

I would rather you just ask, as opposed to insulting me with money. I would do it because we are friends.

My family doesn’t even know me.

I avoid most of them lately because of things that I keep being told. Things such as how I was unwanted when I was born, or that my sibling was my parents’ favorite.

Nobody wants to hear these things. These are things people should take to their grave. It serves no purpose in telling me other than to drive a wedge between us and the people who said it. I know and feel things that I would like to say to others about the past, but would do no good but to hurt them.

I’m not about hurting others the way they hurt me.

BMG2I have been vague about some of the things about me because I don’t want the attention it would cause. I’m not one who likes to have, or be the center of it all.

I will continue with my charade around everyone, family and friends, though I have a hard time believing in what a family should be or what a true friendship is anymore. I am hoping that one day I will witness what those two things should actually be and wish to be a part of either or both.

I’m not a writer by any means, but wanted to let people know that no matter what one looks like on the outside… they could be hurting on the inside.

Take the time to reach out to family or friends and show how you truly feel about them. A little of your time will make a huge difference to one that feels lonely in a world of people.

 

(Other “Be My Guest” column ARCHIVES: http://www.thekmfp.com/category/be-my-guest/)

Crushed

As hard as it is to come to terms with, I realize that my talent alone cannot carry this site, though I’ll never quite understand that…

Aside from what I feel is already a first-rate staff, I’d love to give others with my passion an outlet for their work and, personally knowing the satisfaction that it brings – as crazy as that may sound to those of you not blessed/cursed with the “gift” of pen to paper – the pride of having it seen by others.

If this passion burns inside of you – alright, I’ll cut the schmaltzy hogwash – if you dig writing and want a chance to put it out there, drop me a line and we’ll see what comes of it. (KMFPthe@gmail.com)

 

“Crushed”

Running, Looting, Stealing, Burning

 

Tears come to meet me,

While emotions overtake you.

CR1Ruining fragile lives,

For a man you never knew.

Wondering and pondering,

Where your hate lies.

 

Running, Looting, Stealing, Burning

 

The city in flames

Ashes falling like snow

A rubble of your past life

What is your predicted outcome?

The war has started

Hate is all that remains

 

Embracing, Giving, Loving, Extinguishing

 

Should be the only way,

To save our humanity

From the evils within.

 

(“Be My Guest” column ARCHIVES: http://www.thekmfp.com/category/be-my-guest/)

Rooting for Looting

Were Quick Trips delicious hot roller items less than scrumptious for the consumer? Did they run out of their never ending triple caffeinated hot chocolate? There must be a good reason why it was demolished by looters, right? Sadly, St. Louis, MO is having an off day this week with the recent news about the riots.

HT1People loot for many reasons. I don’t think that any are truly morally correct, but there are some times that it is overlooked. During hurricane Katrina many looted the grocery stores, because they needed the supplies and Darwinism reared its nasty head of survival of the fittest (i.e. whoever can take as many loaves of bread). It wasn’t looked at with disgust, only a pang of guilt that we would’ve done the same thing if those shoes were reversed.

It is far from the moral compass to destroy an establishment that had nothing to do with a murder of a man that you did not personally know. It is a disgusting excuse to act like an animal. It is similar to Hitler saying that the Depression in America made him kill thousands of Jews; it doesn’t make a lick of sense.

I understand that you want to get awareness about an injustice. The problem we face now is that you are committing injustice to fight injustice. Again, sense has been thrown out the window. Facebook is seen by millions of people and news over the internet spreads like wildfire, so why are you setting your own fires?

Let’s look at the past for a moment. Who can you think of who drastically changed America without a single ounce of violence? Martin Luther King Jr. set a “Pilgrimage to Non-violence” and succeeded in changing the way racism was looked at so drastically that we now have an African American President. It was not done by gun shots, looting, cursing, and fires. It succeeded in boycotting, marches, and letters. It wasn’t immediate, but it sure did change the world.

I really don’t care who is “Right” in the whole shooting thing, because everyone who has been affected by the repercussions had nothing to do with it. It is more innocent people’s lives being upheaved from someone else’s selfishness. No one knows what really happened; therefore we cannot make honest judgments from it. Either side could be in the wrong, but I go back to my point that it is between that family and the police officer. The other police officers who have had to deal with the riots did not kill that man, nor did the hundreds of people who are obliterating random businesses know the man.

Ruining your life will not revive the boys. Seek change for the better no matter who you are; destruction only leads to more destruction. Do not forget that you have family who wants you home safe and so do the police officers.

collage no names