Patreon

So I am a strong online presence, so very few social media outlets that I do not have some useage of. It makes sense for me to set up a patreon to see if I can use my art to support myself.

You want to see stuff no one else does? Want to support my art, my poetry and my dreams? Come be my Patreon!

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Vision issues

So thanks to a really screwed up business and their practices… It is unlikely that I will be getting my glasses this year. I went in march to get a eye exam to Charleston vision source. Now I highly recommend avoiding them. In good faith I gave them my insurance information, believing that they would tell me if it was something that they did not take or if it was something that would be a problem. So I had my eye exam done. Then, while I was hurting from the eye dilation, they tell me that I owe $240 …and that my insurance is out of network for them. So I ask about payments. Am told that they only take full amount. And I would not be allowed my prescription until I paid it. So I told them to charge my insurance company. Then I came home and called the insurance. They tell me that the office is in network. So the insurance company called the office. Told them how to charge it. Then came back and said that I needed to stop preventing the office from charging the insurance. I called the office back and reiterated that they needed to charge the insurance.
Well I waited a week. Called. Was told the insurance (medical) refused the charge. I said that they were told to charge the vision plan. Office manager said that the vision plan would not cover. So I reiterated… Charge vision plan.
Am told that they will. A month later, having heard nothing I arranged for another eye exam with a different dr. I show up to be told the eye exam had been paid. I still have not recieved the script. So I called the office. They claim that they will fax it over. We wait two hours. I call twice more. Finally I was given to the office manager. She said that they were not paid. I call insurance company. Insurance company sends proof of payment… Then office manager tells me $32 refraction fee and $12 were what I owed. I am beyond frustrated and hung up on her. So after calm down i call to get an exact owed $. And I was told $158. Locally that I have found… The cheapest eye exam is $105. My insurance will not cover another this year. So I am not getting glasses. And I have been screwed by bad business practices and a vision place who is less about visual health and more about money. I have made this post in hopes of this raising awareness in the way this place treats it’s patients. Please feel free to share. Charleston Vision source. Office of Alan Rada/ Laura Suppa. They are treating their patients poorly.

It’s all about perspective

I’m sick. And when I get sick, I get maudlin. I got a notice that I was getting a deposit from Amazon for the books that I have available. It is the biggest deposit yet, a whole $2.77. That amazes me. It is a sign that people are buying the books that I have written… Mostly poetry, but I have some children’s books and a novella (as Serena).

When I told my mother that I was published her first question was if I had made any money. At the time I stumbled with my answer because I had only made thirty some cents. The fact that I had made anything was a miracle to me, but I knew that would not be what she wanted to hear.

For me, publishing is only a way of being heard. Still, making enough from my writing to buy a drink…. Well it humbles me. Would I like to be able to pay the bills through it? Well of course. I am not stupid. I just choose to be thankful for the small things. How often does changing the perspective change the way something feels?

Small miracles lift up the downtrodden. I choose to see this as a small miracle, so that I am uplifted. What perspective can you change to adjust your view?

Kindness and cruelty

I struggle to see myself as others do. I can list my flaws innumerable. I logically know that I am not what my mental gremlins say. I am not selfish, nor cruel…not intentionally anyway. Still there are those days where I expect more out of people simply because it is something that I can do. I am a poor uneducated woman who is more than a little crazy. I am in constant pain due to physical issues. Still I show up, I do what needs done, and I move on. So on the occasion that I need to remind myself that I am not normal….well I find myself also reminding myself to be kind.

Kindness is not just for the rest of humanity. Sometimes the person who needs your kindness most is yourself. My writing coach, the Amazing Debbie Burns, gave me a couple of methods of dealing with the negative thoughts. One involves listing 100 words about yourself. You then relace negative words with positive ones. This is meant to try to get the brain to replace them when you think about self. We have to try and train ourselves to keep the mental gremlins at bay. Still after a lifetime of self abuse, it is not terribly easy to see the good that everyone else does.

So I will continue to do my word lists to help me see the bright light shining. I will start with the words I did above. “poor uneducated crazy” are all three replaceable. Yes, I have money woes but I have food, I have clothes, I have shelter. So I am content. There see one word replaced. Uneducated is not true. I have my high school diploma. I have taught myself computer programming in c#. I have studied several other things independently. So I can replace that with self educated. Now only one word remains. Crazy. Ugh it is the hardest. After all, I am struggling with mental illness. I am aware of the stigmas. I think perhaps for that I should use the word Unique.

So what words do you say about yourself that perhaps you need to change? I would encourage everyone to examine the labels we use to define ourselves, and in turn the labels we call others.

Life stories 

    How many times have you found yourself thinking about the past? I am guilty of doing it often.  We are all a collection of stories,  some that we do not tell.  The reason why we don’t varies some,  depending upon the story. Some we are ashamed of,  some we think are going to be boring to the world around us. 

         I am finding out that sometimes those stories are more interesting than we realize. I try to be open about my history and tell my stories,  but some of them do not really sit on the mind as something that I need to tell. Yet,  each of them are a part of who I am.  I am a unique individual who has seen some of the darkness that lives in the heart of man.  I am a survivor who has learned to make do with what I have. And I am a woman who has seen both good and bad,  and came through it ready to try to tell my stories. I don’t know if I will ever be able to write all of the stories of a life survived,  or even if I should.  Not all of my mistakes are ones that any one would learn from… Even me.  Still for now,  I will attempt to continue to dribble my story in small gushes to this blog,  and to my poetry.  Perhaps my journey will aid those who stumble across my words. 

The growth and death of dreams 

         Dreams are what we build our lives on.  They are part of who we are,  and eventually of what we become.  Dreams that we do not work towards die off.  

         I am by nature a dreamer. I am doing what I have always wanted to do.  I am writing. Is it exactly as the girl I was at nine imagined?  No,  not really.  I am working on making it into what I need it to be. 

       Over the course of my life I have had other dreams.  I have always been a simple person. The biggest thing I have dreamed about is being stable,  having a home of my own.  Note I said home. For me there is a defined difference between house and home. House is where you live,  it is not yours but instead owned by another.  A home is somewhere that no one can make you leave.  I am nearly able to achieve that dream.  And it has been a long time coming.  I have been dreaming about my own home since I was fifteen. 

       The topic came up from a meme going around Facebook. The meme asked if I hit the lottery what is the first thing that I would buy?  Well I discussed it with Joe… And he said that the question is a wee bit unfair as it depends upon how much and when. Right now… If I hit for real money… My priorities would be different than they might be in a year. Right now… I would buy two vehicles,  pay off my home,  and effect some minor repairs. Then I would pay for the utilities for a year and stock up supplies for to help me through. Then admittedly I would stock up on craft tools.  ..💜

If you could win the lottery,  what dreams would you fill? 

Music soothes the mad poet… 

*image found on Google and only used for inspiration. 

            Recently I read a blog done about music and the effect it had on the life of the blogs writer.  It got me thinking.  So often life for me has revolved around the music.  The sounds of life have always been a rich and full part of who I am. I remember my Dad’s deep baritone singing “Amazing Grace” to me as a child. I remember going to see my great grandfather at his radio station and being enamored by it all.  I loved the poetry in the songs,  how it felt like your soul was understood by the person singing. 

          Grandma Ethel,  my Mom’s mom,  used to sit and listen to stories from her youth and she would share those with me.  Radio shows from another era.  She taught me to enjoy classical music,  how to close my eyes and visualize the music. 

         Music for my mom was such a rigid thing.  If it was not country,  she would not listen to it. And as a child,  in her house I was not supposed to listen to anything else either.  But daddy had records of all manner of song.  Stray cats,  and soft rock like it.  She would eventually learn to bend,  she grew to enjoy some bubble gum rock along with the country.  

                      I still remember the first time I heard real rock. My soon to be step brother had a cassette tape of Dr Feelgood.  I was eleven.  It felt wild and I was hooked.  I still enjoy country,  but I am eclectic in my music tastes. 

                Mind you I am skipping over bits of music and memory. I am trying not to ramble here.  The next influence was my first day of high school.  I was six weeks late because I had a child at fourteen.  I was scared to death of what high school would be. My elder step brother was dating this chick,  and man I looked up to her.  She was confident and sexy and badass. All of the things I knew I would never be.  Well she met me at the cafeteria doors holding a boom box.  It was blasting so loudly that the windows in the building were rattling.  Pink Floyd;  Another Brick in the wall part 3…Aka We Don’t Need No Education.  I can’t tell you how much better I felt about high school.  It was not that school was actually any better.  In truth it was a nightmare.  I just suddenly felt braver,  more secure.  

       Looking back,  every person who was ever a intimate in my life has a song.  My playlist is often a minefield of memories.  Some of which I have not even explained to my boyfriend of over twenty one years. Not because of anything other than the fact that I am done with the one who was once attached to the memory. 

        I may have been a singer and put my love of music to use,  except for the fact that I am unfortunately tone deaf.  I was not gifted with the beautiful singing voice that I would have loved.  It has not stopped me, i sang to my daughter.  I refused to deny her that bond,  both with me and with music. She still will ask for her lullabies when she is feeling bad. 

I sang four main ones to her.  “Hush little baby “,”the greatest love of all “(slightly mangled as i forget one verse), “rockabye baby ” (altered so mama catches as the original bothered me)  and the last is called the puzzle song. 

Lyrics for the puzzle song: *note I learned this is a chorus class in school and have no freaking clue who wrote it. 

I gave my love a cherry that had no stone,  I gave my love a chicken that had no bone,   I gave my love a ring that had no end,   And I gave my love a baby with no cry-in. 

How can there be a cherry with no stone?  How can there be a chicken with no bone?   How can there be a ring with no end?  And how can there be a baby with no cry-in? 

A cherry when it is blooming,  it has no stone,  A chicken when it is peeping it has no bone,  a ring when it is rolling it has no end and a baby when it is sleeping has no cry-in. 

What songs have made a difference in your life?  I would love to hear about them.