A Heart's a Heavy Burden

I mentioned that we had Thanksgiving at Ron and Ann's house because Ron's health was really ailing. Ron had been battling cancer for 8 years (that we know of). He was diagnosed with bladder cancer a long time ago - I swear I was a teenager when this happened, but according to this timeline, I'm wrong. He quit smoking around that time, but Ann didn't, so things are a bit iffy there. He went to chemo after finally asking my stepdad Paul for help, and for a long time we didn't hear anything. Mom and Paul always believed that Ron wasn't always open or honest about his health status. He was a stubborn German who hated looking weak. I certainly never heard about him actually saying what stage of cancer he was dealing with.

Over the past few years, Ron would occasionally mention that the cancer was back, but I think he did maybe 3 total stints of chemo over the course of the cancer. He didn't really modify his diet in any way and beyond quitting smoking, didn't alter his lifestyle. Sometime after his first remission he became a much mellower person. He laughed more and usually was good to be around. He loved Steve, and really liked to "talk shop" with him, even though *I'm* the handyman of the two of us. Steve is HOPELESS with home projects, and Ron had a meticulous setup in both his garage and a basement woodshop. But they got along really well and it was super cute how much Ron clearly liked Steve.

Over the past couple of years, I kind of felt like Ron and Ann were kind of shunning me off and on over some slight to my Aunt Nicole, who went so far as to block me on Facebook like 4 years ago for reasons I still have no idea about (we share the same political beliefs so it wasn't that, and I rarely use Facebook for anything but pictures so like, I couldn't have offended her in any way?). They are a VERY sensitive bunch, so I must have said something, which could be as minor as saying something about her hair or outfit, that made her so mad that she couldn't even see me on social media anymore and never wanted to talk to me about it. So instead of dwelling on what I could have possibly done, I just lived my life and acted the same I always do at family gatherings. only with less direct interaction with them unless they addressed me first. As I said, I have NO FUCKING CLUE what I did, so it's like I'm afraid of making it worse.

It actually kind of sucks, because my last major memory of Ron other than Thanksgiving was a couple of years ago when I went to decorate cookies at their house with my brother August, and Ann. I arrived at 3:30 on the dot, and was so proud of myself (because I'm ALWAYS late to things), and had a great time. I didn't notice at the time that Ron was pointedly ignoring me, until it was time to leave and didn't answer me when I said goodbye. Paul later texted to tell me that Ron was mad that I was late. I sent a screenshot of the text that Ann sent with the time... which said 3:30. Paul said Ron thought I was supposed to be there at 3. OKAYYYYY SO WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO THEN. Eventually he got over it though.

Thanksgiving was really nice because Ron seemed in a pleasant mood. Drugged up and didn't move very much, but seemed content to chill and observe. He hugged me goodbye and said something like, "It was nice to see you, kiddo." That's pretty good for Ron.

On December 6th he went into hospice at home, on December 7th Nicole flew in from California, and he died on December 8th with his family around him. I was at my CPI training and it was just starting when Paul called to tell me. He was sobbing and said he just wanted me to hear it from him and then let me go. I felt sooo bad for them, I knew Nicole was a daddy's girl and Ann's been with him for a really long time. Over the weekend I bought cards for each of them (and August, who was close with Ron), and mailed them out on Monday. Having to read all those sympathy cards made me make kind of a crying scene, so Steve had to buy the cards while I pulled myself together (super uncharacteristic of me - the only other time in our relationship that I cried in public was one time when we got in a fight at Ikea in like 2012 lol and that was because I was hangry and sensitive).

Mom told me that she was going through Christmas cards she was getting and saw that I'd addressed one to just Paul, and she handed it to him and said, "I think this is for you." Then she said she looked over and he was crying into his card. She demonstrated this part in the story by making the crying face she saw. It was adorably funny. Nicole and Ann thanked me for their cards at Ron's funeral, and August texted me on Thursday thanking me and saying it meant a lot to him.

Steve, Connie, Bethany and Jake all arrived at the same time. We said hi to each person except Nicole, who was busy for the longest time. Eventually we got around to her. She was very sad. The picture collages they had up were really cool, one was all his childhood pics and pics before grandkids, and the other one was all his later life pics. There were a few cute ones of each of us kids with him - for me it was sitting on his lap probably one of the first times we met (at the house in Columbia Heights), fishing (like the one time we went with him), and when I opened an alarm clock when I was like 12.

Paul gave me the version of the verses they wanted me to read (Matthew 11:25-30). Bethany, Jake, August, Amber (August's gf), and Steve sat with me in the second row, and Connie sat behind Steve. I sat behind Paul and the family. The minister was really good, and nice. It was obvious Ann had told him how to pronounce my last name, because he said it correctly, but... he mispronounced my first name. I saw all my immediate family like, twitch in unison the first time it was mispronounced, and August giggled and made eye contact with me the second time he said it to formally introduce me (he pronounced it "Leia," like the Star Wars princess, not LEE-ah). When I went up there, I introduced myself "to those who don't know me," which was most people there. Lol. Bethany and Haley teased me about it later because OF COURSE I'd need to correct them - Bethany said her name is said wrong so consistently that "Brittany" and "Stephanie" are her alter-egos haaahaha. Haley said she's the same way, that people always mis-hear her name as Kaylie and it's fine. Not me, I'm on the spectrum, it physically hurts me to hear my name said wrong.

I was really nervous reading the piece because I had no time to practice the specific version that they wanted. The only way you could tell was by my shaky voice, but even Steve thought it was me trying not to cry (it wasn't, I was just shaking). Everyone thanked me for it and said it was beautiful, etc. but it felt so weird after grandpa Jack's funeral, where Mom had me read her personal eulogy and it was pretty lengthy. The Matthew verses (imo) are kind of vague and removed. But they meant a lot to Ann.

After that, Nicole and Paul gave their eulogies. Nicole's was super sad because she cried the whole time, talked about her dad being complicated but that she understood him in a way other people didn't, and that she was always a daddy's girl, and that she had a lot of regrets due to conflict with him and living so far away. When Paul went up there he was all, "Thanks, Nicole!" and began to tell his, which was very "Paul": kind of sarcastic, well-prepared, and full of humor and stories. He talked at length about his dad, with a good timeline of events that were funny, poignant, and engaging. They captured the many sides of Ron while also doing justice to his memory. I couldn't tell how he was telling the stories so well without stuttering or rambling. It was good. Haley said the stories were "kind of mean" but I thought they were very true to both Paul's personality and his experience.

Afterwards Steve and I went to dinner with my parents and Connie, and that was pretty good. I got in a minor argument with my dad on Facebook while we were waiting, because he tried to compare this whole net neutrality thing with buying a car ("If you want nice things, you gotta pony up") and I pointed out the comparison is meaningless and makes no sense.

It ended up being a little awkward because they accidentally gave me a meat burger and Connie my veggie burger, but I ate my fries first and Connie didn't notice she was not eatng meat, so by the time I cut my burger, she was halfway finished with hers. The waitress was super apologetic, and went to put in a new order. In the meantime, Connie and I swapped. By the end of the meal, I still hadn't gotten my replacement burger, and the waitress was so confused because I had had the one burger half. I personally did not care because the burger was very meh, but my family is INSANE about getting what you deserve, so they made sure to point it out. I ended up getting comp'd the burger AND a $10 gift card to the place. I immediately gave it to Mom because I'm never planning on going there so it didn't matter. It was really nice, and super unnecessary, lol.

By the time it was done, it was like 7:30 and we had a 40-minute drive home. On the way, Courtney tried to text me in such a way that buttered me up and convinced me to go to this Quimby party I never planned on going to, regardless of what else was going on, and I got pretty mad at her.

"Please don't make me go to Quimby's alone. I need to have secret judgement meetings with you *cry emoji* <3"

I responded:

"Haaahahaha" [New text} "We're just leaving my grandpa's funeral, I really can't do more people todayyy *crying emoji*"

This is her reponse:

"*sad emoji* I just want to hang out with the gang outside of a basement and I was looking forward to the party for a long time because of that." [New text] "But I understand. I know your grandpa's service was today so you're probably drained. I'm just being selfish."

Now, Haley and Bethany AT FIRST said that like, she was being kind of insensitive but at least she did acknowledge that she was being selfish. THEN POSTS A FACEBOOK STATUS:



KAYYYYYYY.

Like, I usually don't hold onto things for more than a couple of minutes, but I am legit angry about her whining and self-serving AND the low-key insulting the basement hangouts. I've known Courtney for 8 years and Steve has known Courtney since high school and fucking TOO BAD FOR HER if she doesn't want to hang in the basement (which has ALWAYS been Steve's MO), but to like, talk negatively about basement hangouts when that's not even part of the conversation? I take that personally. We have been telling her that if she wants to do something OUT, she needs to plan and set it up. She wants to be babied and continues hinting about things she wants to do but never actually setting something up. I refuse to baby her. I'm not going to feel guilty about how I like to spend my time, and I can't believe that she is so whiny about people not going to a party when she NEVER!!!! mentioned going to anyone. We're not even her main friends group! Quimby has parties like every weekend... how am I supposed to know WHICH she wants to go to? Regardless, the point stands to me that she was being rude as fuck about not wanting to go out after my grandpa's funeral. I was so tired and drained. God!

I seethed about it for awhile but then Nick came over and hung out with me and Steve. I watched Steve play Uncharted 4 and finished knitting another of Mom's washcloths for Christmas. It was a good night.

Even though Laura was the one who set the pricing for my tattoo sessions, and even though Jerry (the owner) approved of them and was present, I always got the feeling that he did not approve of the pricing. He constantly gave her pointed looks and asked her how long we were working for. Laura is his only employee. She is talented, friendly, and simply awesome. I saw 3 other tattoos happen by Jerry in the 6 sessions I have had with the shop, and everyone came and left during my session. I noticed that the shop wasn't doing awesome (at least on the days I was there), and Laura mentioned several times that November/December were the slowest months. So really, my $2000 was helping the shop a great deal during the slow period. Laura offered my last session in December to be free, because progress was going slower than we would have liked (the flowers and grass around 3/4 of my wrist, for example, took one whole session and was a very small area). *I* did not ask for it. *She* offered it. 

So when I went in for my session on the 1st, I did not feel like it was any different. Jerry was being douchey with his looks, and Laura and I were doing business as usual. When Jerry left at 6, he gave her a longer-than-normal stare before he left. At 7, she went to get a pizza two doors down. She received a text during that time. I did not think to let her know she received one when she got back. A few minutes later, the shop got a phone call. It was Jerry. He clearly asked her if she got the text. She grabbed her phone and went into the storage room (as the shop really is just one big room). It was very clear then that the phone call was regarding me. A very heated 5-10-minute discussion ensued, with her raising her voice and getting all fast and squeaky. I knew they were arguing about my sleeve. A few minutes later she came out, stricken and very visibly upset, and told me that Jerry was requiring her to raise the price of my sessions, starting that evening. I was IN THE MIDDLE OF MY SESSION, mind you. Apparently Jerry feels that they have been undercharging me, and I deserve to finish my tattoo at an increased rate. At the time I was tired, and defeated, and I didn't want to be mad at Laura for what Jerry did. So we came to a compromise for the night and I ended up paying $50 more than I would have (I still tipped her my standard amount, which she was plainly shocked to see. It was clear that she thought she'd be losing her tip in favor of making up for the increase in price. I would never take that out on her like that.)

For a little while, I resigned myself to it. There's about 2 sessions left and then touch-ups, which are free (the shop guarantees all of its work... or so it claims). I couldn't think of a way to argue my point without burning bridges. I decided to let it go. I DID NOT schedule a new appointment, which I had done every single other time. I hoped that would send a message.

Then I thought about it for a few days, and I have decided that I simply may not go back to the shop AT ALL. How DARE he send his employee to do his dirty work? How DARE he decide to extort me when he knows that I am so close to being done? How DARE he not have the balls to talk to me himself!!!! Fuck! I am seething. I vacillate between wanting to storm down there and demand that he not renege on the agreed upon deal (and notify him that I know an artist who would be GLAD to finish my tattoo [even though I don't want to take this away from Laura and I don't *actually* have an artist lined up... but Andy could do it]), and maybe reach a compromise, and just never contacting them again and badmouthing the shop to anyone who will listen (and post a horrible review on FB, etc. OR just waiting to see if he convinces Laura to contact me when he realizes he misses that consistent money from me). Whenever I think of going to shop, my blood pressure absolutely skyrockets and I get dizzy, from a combination of the helpless, blind rage I feel at his outright greedy asshole behavior and the fact that I am so ridiculously terrified of a confrontation that I panic at the thought of trying to put forth a demanding, coherent, convincing argument.

It just sucks. Why did he have to do that? I hate him. Seriously. It's so wrong on so many levels and I just don't deserve this kind of treatment. God.

Holy moley I'm tired today! Traffic was very bad this morning due to a fatal car accident - I saw the SUV involved, and the person was probably crushed. During this time there were several minutes of dead-stoppage. The highway is already down to one lane beginning in that area because of construction, and morning traffic is always bad around that time. When we were stopped I made a tweet, and my great aunt deigned to remind me that texting and driving is illegal. It drives me insane when people take every opportunity to remind you when you're doing wrong, as if it will change the behavior. I'm here to tell you, it will not. End of story.

 

Anyway. I started my second grad school class, and we met yesterday. During this meeting I came to the should-have-been obvious realization regarding why I do what I do. I want to work with EBD and Autism, and thrive in chaotic environments... I process information very quickly and become bored almost too easily, it's like I *need* the environment to be unpredictable from day to day and even up to minute to minute to keep my brain excited and stimulated. Coming to this realization was really amusing, but also freeing. I love developing new awareness and understanding of myself.

 

This LJ app sucks, by the way. Not capitalizing the beginning of sentences, really??

 

I'm seeing a chiropractor twice a week for 6 weeks for adjustments, acupuncture and some muscle therapy. It's mostly for my bladder issues but I have longstanding back pain from having lordosis (swayback) and horrid neck pain. Since insurance will pay, I'm treating the whole package. :)

 

A nap is most definitely in order today after work. I'm so so tired!

 

Steve and I went to a local farm with an apple orchard and picked delicious apples and bought homemade pancake/waffle/muffin mix with pumpkin flavoring. It smells so good! Faith and I made the muffins and they were amazing.

K, seriously. The weather needs to stop being in the 80's-90's for part of a week, and then be in the upper 50's, then be 93 for a day, and then go back to the fucking 50's again. I'm so SICK of this bullshit weather. Anything below 70's leaves me feeling lethargic, not motivated, and irritable. Especially with it being cloudy too.

I did so well the past couple weeks exercising (despite the constant, near-crippling pain in my bones) and now with the chilly and cloudy, I'm cranky and just want to sleep in my car on break (and feel sorry for myself for being injured).

I don't want to be in the toddler room today. I'm too irritable.

Posted via m.livejournal.com.

Stolen from ayanamisama:


From an anti-choice blog called Speak for the Weak:
When I say I’m pro-life…

It doesn’t mean I’m religious.
Because I’m not.

It doesn’t mean I hate LGBT community.
Because I am a supporter.

It doesn’t mean I force women to give birth.
Because I never will.

Take what you want from my blog, but never assume I’m just your stereotypical pro-lifer. It is VERY possible to ask questions, state your opinions in a civil manner on this blog. I am respectful and I enjoy answering all questions received!

Thanks for following! :)
-speakfortheweak


Desliz had this response:
Let me tell you some things.

I used to investigate child abuse and neglect. I can tell you how to stop the vast majority of abortion in the world.

First, make knowledge and access to contraception widely available. Start teaching kids before they hit puberty. Teach them about domestic violence and coercion, and teach them not to coerce and rape. Create a strong, loving community where women and girls feel safe and supported in times of need. Because guess what? They aren’t. You know what happens to babies born under such circumstances? They get hurt, unnecessarily. They get sick, unnecessarily. They get removed from parents who love them but who are unprepared for the burden of a child. Resources? Honey, we try. There aren’t enough resources anywhere. There are waiting lists, and promises, and maybes. If the government itself can’t hook people up, what makes you think an impoverished single mom can handle it?

Abolish poverty. Do you have any idea how much childcare costs? Daycare can cost as much or more than monthly rent. They may be inadequately staffed. Getting a private nanny is a nice idea, but they don’t come cheap either. Relatives? Do they own a car? Does the bus run at the right times? Do they have jobs of their own they need to work just to keep the lights on? Are they going to stick around until you get off you convenience store shift at 4 AM? Do they have criminal histories that will make them unsuitable as caregivers when CPS pokes around? You gonna pay for that? Who’s going to pay for that?

End rape. I know your type errs on the side of blaming the woman, but I’ve seen little girls who’ve barely gotten their periods pregnant because somebody thought raping preteens was an awesome idea. You want to put a child through that? Or someone with a mental or physical inability for whom pregnancy would be frightening, painful or even life-threatening? I’ve seen nonverbal kids who had their feet sliced up by caregivers for no fucking reason at all, you think sexual abuse doesn’t happen either?

You say there’s lots of couples who want to adopt. Kiddo, what they want to adopt are healthy white babies, preferably untainted by the wombs and genetics of women with alcohol or drug dependencies. I’ve seen the kids they don’t want, who almost no one wants. You people focus only on the happy pink babies, the gigglers, the ones who grow and grow with no trouble. Those are not the kids who linger in foster care. Those are certainly not the older kids and teenagers who age out of foster care and then are thrown out in the streets, usually with an array of medical and mental health issues. Are they too old to count?

And yeah, I’ve seen the babies, little hand-sized things barely clinging to life. There’s no glory, no wonder there. There is no wonder in a pregnant woman with five dollars to her name, so deep in depression you wonder if she’ll be alive in a week. Therapy costs money. Medicine costs money. Food, clothes, electricity cost money. Government assistance is a pittance; poverty drives women and girls into situations where they are forced to rely on people who abuse them to survive. (I’ve been up in more hospitals than I can count.)

In each and every dark pit of desperation, I have never seen a pro-lifer. I ain’t never seen them babysitting, scrubbing floors, bringing over goods, handing mom $50 bucks a month or driving her to the pediatrician. I ain’t never seen them sitting up for hours with an autistic child who screams and rages so his mother can get some sleep while she rests up from working 14-hour days. I don’t see them fixing leaks in rundown houses or playing with a kid while the police prepare to interview her about her sexual abuse. They’re not paying for the funerals of babies and children who died after birth, when they truly do become independent organisms. And the crazy thing is they think they’ve already done their job, because the child was born!

Aphids give birth, girl. It’s no miracle. You want to speak for the weak? Get off your high horse and get your hands dirty helping the poor, the isolated, the ill and mentally ill women and mothers and their children who already breathe the dirty air. You are doing nothing, absolutely nothing, for children. You don’t have a flea’s comprehension of injustice. You are not doing shit for life until you get in there and fight that darkness. Until you understand that abortion is salvation in a world like ours. Does that sound too hard? Do you really think suffering post-birth is more permissible, less worthy of outrage?

“Pro-life” is simply a philosophy in which the only life worth saving is the one that can be saved by punishing a woman.


-----------------------------------

It was like speaking for my whole career. That's the population I work with - the poor, the impoverished, the mentally ill, the medically ill, the ignored, forgotten, the horribly-treated.

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First off, I would like to say that I think either half the people answering the question are liars, or only the "good" ones are answering, because I know A LOT of people who snoop on their significant other. I even know a girl who didn't want her boyfriend talking with this one girl, so she'd go into his email and facebook and delete any messages or emails she'd send him.

I don't think that you should snoop on your partner, no. It causes a lot of issues. I've read some of Steve's texts before and he's done the same to me, but never out of suspicion or anger. I remember him saying something to me a few months ago like, "If you read my texts, whatever you do DON'T go into my drafts folder. It's where I keep my list of gift ideas for you." And I haven't, because I know it's true.

The interesting thing about him is how trusting he is. He's like the perfect person when it comes to showing resiliency. He discovered his girlfriend was cheating on him with his best friend through their comments to each other on MySpace. Not messages, COMMENTS! Who knows what the hell they were messaging each other?! Most people would then be wary of the next social networking addict. But he's not. We're both very open about what we're doing. Anything we ask the other, we answer. Once I made a stupid drunken decision (something like, "HEYYY WE HAVE THE SAME PHONE LET'S EXCHANGE PHONE NUMBERRRRS." I think. He might have asked me.) at a party with some douche, and when Steve asked who I was texting and I told him the story, he (rightfully, especially considering he's straight-edge and thinks drunk people are stupid) got angry with me. With no qualms I immediately texted the guy saying that we should no longer speak (he had been texting me a lot since the party, but only like one-word texts) because we had no reason to (which is true), and deleted the number out of my phone to show that I didn't mean any harm and it meant nothing to me. And all was well.



Now, I'm not perfect. I HAVE been snoopy before.

When I was with Dan, there was a serious lack of trust and we snooped on each other all the time (granted, we were together from the ages of 16-21, therefore started young). For me, I felt justified. I found lies everywhere I looked. One of the biggest lies was when I should have been smart and called it quits, but I'm a ninny. We were going to school four hours apart and he hadn't called me for a few days. I signed into his facebook to get a friend's phone number that he lived with, and being 18 and curious, I checked his messages. In there I found several between him and an ex, which hurt a lot because 1. He was NEVER close with his ex. They met in MEXICO on a mission trip, didn't live near each other, and didn't yet have licenses or cell phones and therefore rarely talked. 2. He went many stretches of time without any contact with me at all. The most recent one was dated the previous day, apologizing for not calling her back AFTER TALKING TO ME (when he'd always say he was tired and wanted to get off the phone, etc.). I confronted him; he outright lied about it, even after I told him I was staring directly at the message.

There were hints about him visiting her "again." When asked about this, he said she was referring to a long time ago and wanted to see him but he wouldn't. Of course, not believing him, I signed into MSN and started a conversation with her. To be fair, she sounded like she was only interested in hanging out and was totally open to talking to me, knowing who I was. What I learned from her was that he went to a different state to visit his friend and herself. That he drove like 6 hours to see them. When he couldn't be assed to even talk to me.

I was so mad that if he'd been present, I might have seriously scratched his eyes out. I was RAGING. We talked for like three hours as he tried to convince me to not break up with him. And eventually I relented. And then spent another 3 years of the same old shit. After we broke up but I continued to live with him for a time, a bunch more stuff I never knew about came trickling out of him. He thought it was funny, how much he lied to me.

I guess I have some issues after Dan, but I trust Steve. He's given me no reason to be suspicious of his behavior, so I treat him that way.

I actually wanna write but I'm too exhausted.

I went to bed at like 10:30am to try to get sleep before my work training on Cognitive-Behavioral Therapy from 5pm-9pm...

For you "normal" schedule peeps, that's like getting home at 5:30pm and going to bed at 7pm, to get up for a 4-hr training at 2am even though you work again at 8am. (-_-)* Needless to say, it was pretty much a failure. I got a little here and there, but it can't have been more than 2 hours total. I sleep so lightly and Steve's mom ALWAYS creeps on me when I'm sleeping (and Steve's not home - she doesn't do it if we're BOTH sleeping wtf) and therefore I wake up.

Yeah, so I'm tired. I went through several mini-RAGE moments last night.

Right now I'm too cold and tired to really feel anything. I expressed my rebellion at having to come into work with no sleep by wearing Steve's oversized (FOR HIM) Nintendo hoodie.

The level of disgust that I feel towards people who cover up sexual abuse crimes is almost immeasurable.

The Catholic church has been hiding their abuse of children for centuries, and this started because the people of the church wanted to ensure that property of men went to the church when they died, not families? The requirement of celibacy came about very early on in the church, because the church wasn't satisfied with the married bishops, etc. passing their land on to their sons. Nothing in the Bible says anything about being celibate as a member of the church, and the apostles had families. So what the fuck, Catholicism?

Many men who become a part of the church start at a very early age, like 14 years old. When they make these decisions to join the church, it's like they're halting their psychosexual development. They're fed all these rules about controlling themselves, when really they're just BEGGING for these... kids, really... to become pedophiles. They're not taught how to understand their bodies and the urges they feel, and they are discouraged from exploring these feelings. All of us know how pleasurable sexual feelings are since we're free to express them. But what about a 20-year-old (or what-have-you) priest who never learned to understand and channel his feelings? He works with children. He feels affectionate towards these children. He feels connected to these children. In effect, he's nearly at the same stage of psychosexual development they are at. Children are trusting, and naive. What better subjects to explore your sexual curiosity with without feeling like you're really breaking the rules?

Let's not forget that it's safe to assume that a large number of these men were ALSO abused as children, and are simply perpetuating what they learned as children themselves. Did it feel wrong, or bad, or uncomfortable when it happened to them? Certainly. Did they learn those behaviors from their abusers? Almost definitely. They first are against the actions, but then learn to accept them. Learn to squash their feelings and accept the fear and pain. It's just a part of life, and surely their priest, their vessel of Jesus, wouldn't do something to them that wasn't okay! And yet... they know it's not something they should be telling people. Because deep down it really hurts. It's scary. It's involving parts of their body that they were taught were private.

I firmly believe that if the Catholic church allowed their priests to have families, that this would happen a lot less. There would still be abusers within the church, but I think the number would be far fewer. Because these men would have been given the chance to grow into their sexuality and express it in a healthy way. Personally I think celibacy itself is appalling, but that's likely here nor there.

I don't think that pedophiles are inherently monsters. I think that they learned a specific way to behave, and found an outlet for their sexuality. I think that that outlet is viewed by the Catholic church as no worse than being sexual with an adult. It's just another form of "sex," in a world where "sex" is forbidden, and is probably considered lesser because they're children, and also because children are less likely to tell. I think that these priests are stuck in the wrong stage of psychosexual development, and they need help in order to correct that. By ignoring claims of abuse (and even pleas for help from the pedophile priests), the church is only exacerbating the problem, and preventing these men from getting the help they desperately need. 

I wish that we could live in a world where a priest could confess his feelings (hopefully it would only be urges, but likely it would be reported abuse) to his leader, and the leader could arrange for counseling, for therapy, to help them work through it. I really think that, especially at the beginning, these men could be helped in controlling those urges. Attraction towards children is likely never to go away, but at least they could understand why they CANNOT do that, and WHY it's so horrifically wrong for them to hurt children, and that what happened to them as kids (likely) is no less wrong. That THEY are victims too. I also wish that the Catholic church would realize how negative the requirement for celibacy really is, and repeal that. The cycle of pain and suffering just has to end, and it has to start somewhere. It has to start with the church facing their mistakes and taking steps to amend for what has been broken.

Just.. UNNNGHFHGHFH

-Getting excited for Deathly Hallows! I've decided to quick knit up a ribbed scarf, in HuffPuff colors o' course!
-Probs going to reread the 7th book if I can this weekend!
-It's my birthday the same night DH comes out, and I'm super excited to see what Steve got me!!
-There's Dan drama afoot. He told me a couple weeks ago he might be able to get my kidnapped toon back to me. I told him the other day it's not THAT, it's that in merging our account he effectively made it so I will have to rebuy the discs, which I do not want to do. Then he FLIPPED OUT because I wrote "I DO NOT WANT TO REBUY THE DISCS PLEASE LISTEN" in all caps and APPARENTLY that was being a bitch.
( No wait, here's a screen of our convo )

I mean, yeah I'm kinda pissy, and snarky. But not to the extent which he is saying. And "bitch for no reason"? Uhhhhhh I have PLENTY of reason to be a bitch. I also kind of feel like we are having two separate conversations. I hate him.