family

Lifelong target

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I wrote about some childhood bullying incidents on this blog back in 2018 in the following post:

How I met my bully | Sophisticated Neanderthal

I’ve been dealing with relentless harassment from a bunch of simpletons around me for the last ten years. Actually much longer but the most intense has been since I started my current job eleven years ago and even moreso since October 2019 when I had a strange experience involving missing time at an Oktoberfest event near my home.

I still have those same feelings of just wanting to be left alone. I’m just trying to live my life. Why can’t they do the same? Just live and let live. I am a lover of peace and an encourager. Why should I have to deal with constant hostility and harmful intentions and actions? I remember those childhood feelings of not wanting to deal with bullies. But deal with it I must because they never stop. I’ve come to learn that the insidious, relentless form of harassment I’ve been subjected to for the last eleven years is called gangstalking. I’ll be writing much more about that, but now I want to add a detail that I didn’t yet realize was significant the last time I wrote about it.

I remember the day on my paper route when the bully pushed me into a snowbank. He finally gave up for that day when that still didn’t elecit a fist fight with him and he sarted walking away. It happened on Market Street in Bangor between 3rd and 4th Streets. My route took me out Third St. and the site of the occurrence was near Bangor Elementary Center on Fourth St., where I attended grade shool a couple years earlier. I can still picture as I got back on my feet and was putting my brown knit hat with white stripes back on after brushing the snow off it, that I spotted the old windowless beige van driven by my 6th grade English teacher. Bangor is a small town and I knew it was her vehicle. A couple friends and I knew what many of the teachers drove. We paid attention to cars.

The thing that struck me as I recalled that scene recently was that the teacher, now deceased, bore the same last name as one of the main ringleaders of the ongoing harassment against me. I saw her sitting at a stop sign on the next street up and looking toward me and the scene that had just unfolded. She didn’t turn down the hill and come my way. I thought she might come to see if everything was alright, but she just went on up the hill. I remember feeling relieved because I was embarassed to have been seen “losing” the struggle with the bully. I felt wimpy. You would think she would’ve been concerned and checked on me, but oddly did not. Only recently I thought, for the first time, about the fact that she bore the same last name as the current ringleader of harassment against me. It wasn’t the first time I thought this stuff started at childhood, but it was the first I thought about the name connection.

Then I thought about how she was a closeted Lesbian (she had a semi secret affair with the female gym teacher and had bipolar or some kind of mental health diagnosis. I previously figured that part out when reflecting on how she was telling the class how all the women in her family were witches and their abilities were only passed down through the women. She had an extended absence right after that day. She must have been off her meds and had to take a medical leave to get inpatient treatment. I don’t know that, but it seems like a good guess. The chief bully gangstalker is also Lesbian and mentally not well. A former friend who’s also involved is also gay and bipolar. And his mom bears a resemblance to my old teacher. Things that make you go hmmm!

Back to the snowbank, I wonder what would have happened if I had taken the bait of the antagonizing bully and threw a punch with the teacher looking on? I think she would have claimed that she didn’t see him do anything but that she only saw me hitting him. Then they would’ve sent me to a juvenile delinquent center or something. Who knows what might have happened there? Were they trying to corrupt me by exposing me to other rough kids and/or abusive staff, or was someone at the juvenile center intended to molest or assault me?

Fortunately, I stayed away from that fight and any other trouble my whole life, following the good example of my parents. I’m thankful I came from a good family and had good people around me through friends of the family and my church. No bullies or troublemakers were ever able to shake me. I miss my dad but I thank God for his quiet strength and steadfast faith and love of the people around him and living a good and simple life. It’s our family legacy and no one is going to take that away.

One thing is for sure, this target is done being bullied. 54 years is enough! The gangstalker creeps will be exposed. They shrink from the light of day. I am a lover of light. They slink around like cowards. I am honest and straightforward.

Keeping On

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Since it’s been a while since I posted, I’m thinking I should take another look at time management and posts about being busy but in a good way. Or, reflect on the one wondering where half the summer went already. Now, basically the whole thing is gone, though not officially by the calendar and it’s a gorgeous summer day here in eastern PA today.

In fact, I did get out and enjoy a picture-perfect day with friends at Lake Nockamixon on Labor Day weekend and got to take a spin on my brother’s kayak. Today, I’m taking my mom shopping, but at least we’ll be out and about on this great day.

It’s been a little over a year since I had a health event and a break from work, after which I began a routine of daily devotions with Bible reading and the book Journey to the Heart by Melanie Beaty. I am journaling more often. (Still not daily, but working on it.) Since last October, I’ve been weight lifting three times a week, and keeping up a routine of better punctuality, tending to the garden and feeding the stray cats and the birds (after my own cats) after work, daily check-ins with my mom and all the usual household stuff.

I also make time for fun with friends and family, and getting out for a nature walk or something enjoyable as much as possible. It’s been challenging at times and I don’t always feel like doing things, but I persist. I look around me, and I realize it’s not just me. Time flies for everyone. We’re all busy and we all have to make an effort to keep on going and doing and balancing life’s obligations with fun and enjoyment. Staying connected through it all is very important, so don’t forget that. Talk to people, and share your feelings and thoughts. People are all very similar in many ways. (Except for a few psychopaths, but we won’t go into that now.)

I feel that I was put on this earth to be an encourager and a light in my corner of the world. I will endeavor to keep doing that through thick and thin. I believe that there are forces set against those of us trying to lift others up. The eternal battle of good and evil is very much active in the world today. We good ones must rise up and keep pushing forward and be ourselves and affirm others to be themselves. We’re all in this together.

Kind of a grand conclusion for a post about routines, you might think. I’m learning that the routines are just the structure to provide a base to do more. Our thoughts and feelings can flow more freely when we control the things we can and not be discouraged by all the things we can’t control. All the chaos and evil in the world at large.

Brighten the corner where you are! Be you!

Failing patience, fading empathy

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I find myself getting impatient with my elderly mother more quickly and more frequently than I used to. She has always been an extreme worrier, engaging in catastrophizing and panic, always assuming the worst, sometimes imagining well beyond the worst-case scenario fearing things that there’s basically no chance will be the outcome of the situation. It started getting considerably worse in the fall of 2022 and continues to be so. It may be a side effect of a medication or her age exacerbating things, but the increase of problems started about the time my dad’s fight with cancer started taking more of a toll. He was gone six months later.

My mom and dad were married 56 years and when you include dating and engagement, were together for just about 60 years. I understand that her anchor was gone and she felt more vulnerable. I did a lot of things to help her with everyday personal business like making calls with her to Social Security, insurance companies, then renewing said insurance, and transferring the van and getting a new handicapped plate, checking her math when balancing the checkbook. All things she knows how to do but hadn’t been doing them for a number of years.

I also made improvements to her physical environment. I had replaced a bookshelf a year or so earlier and still had the old one, so I took it to her and made room for it, put it in place and moved the books and other items to it. I also gave her a little corner shelf that I hadn’t been using for a while and helped get that in place and found a little side table that would work next to her couch better than what was there already. I didn’t even realize it, but the table had been my dad’s before they met, so she really appreciated having that.

It seemed like things were improving, and indeed I think she was coping well for a number of months of the first year without my dad, but then she started to say she felt “blue” more often when I asked how she was. It felt like my efforts were all in vain. Like no matter how much I did, it wasn’t enough and she just kept doing worse. She wasn’t oblivious to this decline in mood and in fact, talked to the nurse practitioner at her primary care and they tried her on an antidepressant for a while but that only seemed to make her worse and it was stopped.

After a while, it seemed like her mood leveled off to some degree, enough to cope and find enjoyment in things, but the worrying and panic got worse. It’s very draining to have several calls a week from your mother, who was so strong and wise when she was raising you, in a state of panic because she got some strange call or text on her phone. Like a scammer can somehow ruin your life even if you don’t respond to them.

I tell her to think about what would be the worst that could happen and it’s not going to be as bad as her initial fear-filled reaction has her thinking. And even if the worst happened, she’d get through it. I guess she doesn’t see it as a choice, how you react to something. It’s been an automatic response for so long that she must feel like she can’t control it and that it’s something that just happens, not of her own volition. Maybe that’s true to some degree because it’s hard to retrain your brain when you’re in your 80’s. But I think there’s always room for improvement if the effort is made.

What’s funny is that I used to be so patient that I’ve had people tell me that I have the patience of a saint. In fact, there was more than one occasion when I worked in retail that the next person in line would say so after I finished with a difficult customer. But in the last 6 or 7 years, the harassment that I’ve mentioned in other posts, has eaten up any patience, tolerance, or forgiveness, and even empathy that I had in me. I could easily do a whole post just on that point, but this one is about trying to be there for my mom.

I think the solution is to talk about things on a regular basis and specifically about managing fear and anxiety, to plan for the moments that spark intense worry and be ready for it; to have coping strategies and specific actions to take. Calming imagery or memories, music, inspiring quotes, and mindfulness. I don’t think that’s a concept that anyone ever taught her, but it’d be very helpful to stop and think, observe and then proceed with caution.

It’s always better to get out in front of an issue than to wait till something happens that’s harder to deal with. Of course, that’s easier said than done. But most things worth doing are. I know that my mom is a strong and intelligent person and that God has given me a good heart, patience and kindness. I’ll just have to keep any situational irritability out of the equation and be true to myself and see the strength and ability in her that has always been there. You’ve got to stick together with family and help one another in love. Same goes for friends.