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Friday, January 11, 2019

Sunday, December 30, 2018

Tuesday, October 23, 2018

Still no laptop part 2

If you want to contact me:
@batiekear on twitter

@guilda09 on instagram

Slide in the DM's if you wish
I am ny blogging here from now on. I've retired from my other blogs.

Stay tuned: i would like to chat a bit about the books i've neen reading.

Xo

Friday, July 27, 2018

Still no laptop

So still no regular blogs.  I've been reading a lot lately and trying to keep to myself.   I write in a journal things I want to publish.

Saturday, June 23, 2018

Be brave

I listened to rose McGowan 's book, brave, and I have watched citizen rose, made me feel better about the time when some pedophile ran around MySpace trying to convince strangers that I am a psychopath.

If Harvey and Cosby can topple,  so can others.

Wednesday, June 20, 2018

The last ceremony

My ceremony was the first and last. 

I cannot bear fruit ever again.

Praise be to those who can.

Sometimes I sympathize with the Wives. 

My tears fall for the baby i could have if my body could take it.

It turns out that having had acute mononucleosis means you have one shot and one shot only of bearing a child.  Anymore strain to my body could mean early death.

I cannot even donate blood.

Praise be to those who can.

I left part 2

I left the first time my father verbally abused me.

I still leave to this day.  Better to cry and get the pain out then to wind up to now in the fucking looney bin again.   My dad will give voice to things I cannot,  because I am the "crazy one".  I am not a 35 year old woman who can think for herself.  

In Gilead I am a handmaid desperate for the little freedoms of life. 

Everyone who meets my daughter says she looks like me.  It is the first thing they say.  My daughter is 11 and gaining a figure. 

Don't be surprised if you ever see me in the papers over some pervert who looked at my daughter the wrong way.   I have an ocean of patience. But not when it comes to someone violating my daughter.

I left

I left my body the first time I was assaulted.

How about you?

On my own

There are battles I should be able to battle on my own.   Due to my mental illness and being a single mom, that cannot be.   Tonight is the first night I have accepted this.  Eyes full of tears, pain in my heart, but I accept it.  I could cry a river over this, but fuck that.

Do not let the bastards grind you down. You are not less than if you are a single parent and ask for help.  Do not be a martyr.   Be a good, modern parent (male, female, transgender etc.) and ask for help when you need it.

Saturday, June 16, 2018

Lexi keeps growing

I have been taking a break

I will be back with my usual ramblings once I get a new chrome book.  Until then I will post pics and leave short blogs. I've been writing behind the scenes.  Stay tuned.   I love all of my readers.  Thank you all.

Monday, May 15, 2017

Friday, March 10, 2017

The Challenge

When you have schitzoaffective disorder, it makes it hard to go anywhere, to travel, to see the world.  It makes it hard to make friends.  When you have schitzoaffective disorder and are a single parent with a child with Nonverbal Autism, it makes it impossible to travel, to see the world, to make new friends.

Every time I am put in a situation where there is the potential to meet a new friend or go on a first date, it feels like I have this hard lump of fear in my stomach because I have to worry about choosing D day, the day where I break it to that person what I have.  I have to worry about their reaction.  I have to worry if I will scare them away.  I have to worry if they are just being nice to my face and making fun of me or talking to me in a derogatory manner behind my back.  I have to worry if they're just being nice because they pity me.

But there's this place I can go to where I can escape.

It's this TV show on MTV called "The Challenge".

I have been watching this show since the very first season.

The Challenge is where I go when I want to disappear.  The Challenge is the place I go when I need help getting out of my head.  The Challenge is where I go to when I need to make the abusive narrative voices caused by my schitzoaffective disorder leave my head so I can feel human again.

Every year I watch a rag-tag group of outcasts come together on MTV's chosen Misfit Island to duke it out for the amusement of millions of viewers.

The Challenge is more than that to me.

I see myself in almost every one of the ones that are my age (34).  We're a part of the same generation.  The generation raised on lies.  The generation that had a government and monopolies deciding it is a good idea to shove endless advertisements in the name of sex, violence, drinking, smoking cigarettes, and capitalism.

The generation who read the book (or most likely watched the movie) Fight Club and realized by the time they were done reading that they had a particularly bad taste in their mouths.  The generation that was taught to be themselves, to be unique, by Mr. Rodgers and Sesame Street yet at the same time forced to conform or else, like prisoners in our public school systems.  The generation that could go twice as high as a butterfly through books at home but Heaven forbid if you are smarter than the teacher at such a young, tender age.

I relate to these people.  These people get to go to places I will probably never see in my lifetime.  I chose to be a mother.  I did not realize it would be decided that I would not only be a mother but a caretaker for a beautiful girl who has only ever said one world her whole life and who lives in her own world and wants to invite everyone to play with her in it.

They get to quench their wanderlust, and I do not.  I am not, however, bitter about it.  Giving up a life of being single with no strings attached to anyone for the amazing daughter I have the honor to raise?

Trust me, it's a fair trade.

The one pure thing in my life, my Lexi


And I thank all of you for being part of my escape when my mental illness decides it wants to pull me under its violent waves, as it does, time after time, forever.  Living vicariously through all of you is better than not having you at all.




Thursday, December 15, 2016

Taking a writing break

I have a lot of books I have to read, so I'm going to be writing less on my blogs and probably share videos or links that interest me for the next few months.

There will still be regular posts on slyparadox.org as well as semi-regular posts on skatedork4life.com and kateescapereviewsnj.com, and batiekear.com

Friday, December 9, 2016

Thoughts on 34

I spent a big chunk of my birthday at the group therapy I go to, and my Dad bought two dozen red and green vanilla and chocolate Mr. and Mrs. Santa Clause cupcakes.  The faces were actually rings, so I noticed that some people were wearing it, but we're not kids so they only fit on everyone's pinky finger.

I didn't realize until it was too late that the cupcakes with the green icing turned your teeth green, so I had to warn everyone after I saw a couple people with green teeth telling me how good the cupcakes were.  Oops.

A couple hours after I got home, Lexi cuddled with me for about 10 minutes, which is really what I wanted for my birthday but didn't assume would happen.  I'm really glad she did.  I was in a  funk at group hoping she would want to, and she did.

She's started doing that during the holidays: hugging me and cuddling with me on holidays.  My parents and I hug in front of her to show her that's a good way for her to show affection to her loved ones without her hurting anybody.  She doesn't know her own strength, so hugging is one thing she can use her strength on for most people other than my Grandma, who's reaching 100 years old.

My birthday is never really a big deal anymore, not until my 40th birthday in any case.  Forty will be a big milestone for me.  It will be the 33rd anniversary of when I had that severe case of mono that could have killed me.  My 47th birthday will make it an even 40.

I'm glad I've made it this far, and I'm trying really hard to make sure I'm around as long as possible for my baby girl, family and friends.