The pain of revisiting my abuse for the 2nd time.

cassieharte's avatarcassieharte

Well the 2nd edition of I DID TELL I DID is almost there. It has been along hard ‘slog’ and one I should not have had to make.

When I first brought my story out in 2009, I had spent night after night revisiting the horrors that were my childhood. I was working as a Psychotherapist, looking after my home and family and many ponies. Staying up at night was the only way I could write about what had happened to me as a child. It wasn’t easy, going back in my mind, thinking about the abuse and the nastiness of the woman they called my mother. My husband Daniel was very supportive and so were my daughters although only Lucy lived at home at that time. I had locked the ‘nasties’ in boxes that were hard to open. I knew once opened I had to deal with the memories…

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Social Media isn’t social anymore 

I  get on social media to enjoy the random bits of people that they choose to share. Then there are moments that ruin the whole experience for me. And I find myself wondering why I keep going back. The idea behind social media is wonderful… but the concept falls through thanks to human nature.  Instead of compassion and attention,  social media promotes discord and self absorption.

                       If I like too much of what is posted by someone then I am stalking their page. If I post a disagreement then I am disagreeing with every thing they post. And if I ask to be asked before being added to another group then I am ignored. I am back to wondering if it isn’t more trouble to be social than it is worth. I guess that is just me being grouchy….but I feel that there should be a middle ground. 

Art

What is art,
Smart and sublime.
Each eye views differently,
Both beauty and the divine.

An artist places in their work,
Heart,  soul and mind.
Only to hear an offhand remark,
Of how they should really try to find
Something to do with their life.
Some people are but so blind.

The poet pouring themself
Into the words on the page,
Knowing all along that not all
Will see the truth.

The painter who sees a darker view,
Is no less showing
Yet one more truth
That oft goes unseen.

My truth and thine,
Not always so mesh,
So when speaking of art,
No matter the kind,
Be aware always
The ego is but a fragile
Easily broken piece
Of the artistic soul.

Sunday Songs-One For The 4th of July

Kim D. Bailey's avatarKim D. Bailey

Choosing a song for this occasion was difficult.

I wanted to avoid all of the clichés in my choice to celebrate our country’s independence, and find one that not only upholds the very essence of freedom of speech, but does so in a way that makes one think.

Some of you may remember a country band called The Dixie Chicks. They are still together and have been since 1989.

They fell out of favor with many in the USA in 2003 after this:

Source: en.m.wikipedia.org
Now, I’m not going to get into a political debate here or encourage anyone to choose a side. My goal on this weekend, which means so much to me as an American, is to share a song written in response to the backlash The Dixie Chicks received for simply speaking out and sharing an opinion.

As many know, Mary Chapin Carpenter is my favorite female…

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10 Ways to Overcome Writer’s Block

Wonderful ideas!

Words are painful

So you say
Words can’t hurt you,
Such bravado to be shown.
Strength in mind,  and heart,
Forgotten dreams,
Into the fury thrown.
For though the mind is strong,
The tongue is sharp.
Cutting the soul,
Slicing deep.

The pen is mighty,
No sword so sharp.
Each slice exquisite,
Laying vein
outside the skin.
Making me wish
The words mute
Again.

A True Statement of Pride, Or Another Slam Against the LGBTQ Community?

Kim D. Bailey's avatarKim D. Bailey


I would have to say most who find it necessary to announce this are not doing so in good faith, but as yet another systematic form of discrimination and oppression against those who are different from what they consider to be the “norm.”

Julie DiCaro hit the nail on the head.

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