PBP - Winter Holidays and Family

"This time of year, there are many different celebrations going on, most often ones that bring family close together. While it can be nice to see everyone again, it can also be stressful, when your family doesn't feel the same way about things as you do.

So, how do you deal with them? Do you simply avoid all talk of religion, even though the holidays can be very religious? Or perhaps it's just easier to avoid family all together....

If your family actually believes as you do, then perhaps these holiday gatherings aren't tough at all. Please, share with us how your Pagan winter family gathering go..."

Well, anyone who has read this knows that I live with my Catholic parents. I try to avoid all talk of religion though it's hard especially when my mother will see my nephew staring at the light or the ceiling fan and make the claim that he can see Jesus in the light. I have to stifle a moan and bite my tongue. Everything during the holidays is a miracle, dad gets his bonus (which he gets every damned year)? Miracle! We bought just enough food to feed everyone for the Christmas get together? Miracle! She found the perfect present for everyone? Miracle!

It's a little infuriating. Okay a lot, but yes it makes family gatherings awkward and I wish I could say that when I finally move out I'll be more out and out about my faith and my beliefs with my family but I just can't know right now. 

Also as I have no one around me that believes as I do, I don't get to really celebrate Yule. I send up fervent prayers throughout the day but I don't get to perform a ritual. I don't get to actually celebrate and again I wish I could say that when I move out that will change but I just can't know.

What about you, dear readers? What are your thoughts?

)o(Jena

Sorry for my absence...and my language...

I'm sorry I haven't posted in a while. I think it's ... hold on let me check... four months. Damn that's a long time. Well, I've been dealing with the loss of my child as has my husband. We decided to name the child Jordan as naming a lost child can be a good coping mechanism. We picked Jordan because it's a gender neutral name and as I was only 9 weeks at the time of the miscarriage we didn't know the sex of the baby.

I was worried about many things happening due to losing my child and many of those have come to fruition. I was worried about how I would handle all of the "God needed another angel" statements from my mainly Christian family and though I've never said anything aloud to them this has caused me to be more open about my faith on my facebook. I never used to be just because of the fact that I have many family members in my friends list and I didn't want to deal with the controversy but now I don't care. I've even made my cover photo purely Wiccan related. My profile picture was at one time as well. And I've been posting more Wiccan related articles and pictures. This has caused a more strained relationship with my mother but as I said: I don't care.

I'm tired of hiding who I am to make my mother happy. I'm tired of accepting all this bullshit from people who know that I'm not Christian still pushing their beliefs on me. To learn from my own fucking mother that the reason she's sad that I have lost my child is because he couldn't be born and saved through baptism so now he's stuck in purgatory and that she now has to add another rosary to her daily prayers for all those in purgatory and for all those in her family that are being turned away from God by Satan. It's all religious bullshit and it's pissing me off so much that it has put a strain on my sanity and my marriage. Hubby and I have been arguing more lately and it's all because I'm so depressed and pissed all the time and then having to deal with my mother all day every day and then have my husband come home from work and make short statements that normally wouldn't even bother me but now have me snapping at him in a complete rage. And not just him but I've snapped at my mother, my sisters, my friends.

My plan was to be out of this apartment quickly. Hubby and I moved in just over two years ago and it was supposed to just be for about 6 months. Well, look at how that turned out. Hubby actually lost two jobs in our first year here which definitely set us back. We tried to save up the money for me to get my drivers' license (as we couldn't afford the class when I was in school it will cost me about $500 to take the class before I can get my license) but then I started to go blind in my right eye. Starting with a squiggly black line in the middle of my vision and spreading to where I could only see out of the top eighth of my right eye and my peripheral vision was completely gone. We decided then to use the money we'd already saved to try and find out what was wrong with my eye. 3 weeks, 5 vision tests, 3 dilated pupils, and a bill for $1500 later I quit. My vision was already starting to return and the bills where going to end up bankrupting us.

Hubby got his current job a little over a year ago and though this job is the best job he's ever had (in his own words) saving money has gotten harder. We pay my parents $33 a week (as he gets paid weekly), he pays his $46 phone bill once a month, we spend a total of $110 a month on cigarettes (both of us get them every other week), then there are normal expenses through out the month. Mainly hubby getting himself something to eat before going to work at 10pm 5 nights a week. Then there's gas, groceries, putting away as much as we can into savings, paying off our credit card sometimes with the bare minimum. So after netting around $1200 a month we end up with around $200 left. It's discouraging to have these unexpected bills come up.

Unexpected as hubby having to have a tooth pulled, losing a father/father-in-law and a child, and many other things. It would help if I could go out and get a real job. As of right now my parents pay me $50 every two weeks for "taking care" of my mother. The reason they started to pay me is because back in April of 2012 my mother stepped on a piece of glass in the kitchen in the middle of the night. We are still to this day unsure where it came from. It got embedded in her big toe and she was screaming in pain. At this time hubby and I were sleeping in the living room on a pull out couch. Due to this I heard her and jumped up to help her out. I pulled out the glass and doctored her up so that she could walk with less difficulty. The following day my parents came to me with $50 and said thank you and that they would continue to pay me the $50 every other week for helping my mother out around the house. I agreed because cool an extra $100 a month couldn't hurt.

Well it doesn't go far. I pay my own $46 phone bill once a month then buying myself extra packs of cigarettes when I need them because I smoke so much more living here with my mother than I did when I lived any where else. The reason being is that my mother has taken "caregiver" to a whole new extreme. I don't just help her into/out of the shower when she needs me. I don't just go grocery shopping for her. I don't just help her clean up certain areas of the house to get the place ready for the monthly inspection. I also bring her food every 4-5 hours. And I mean it it's fucking 4-5 hours. She'll be starving but she'll only eat a child's portion then be hungry soon after and I'm literally running around all day getting her different food, and making and bringing her coffee, switching out her DVDs, etc. etc. etc. I don't feel like a caregiver, I feel like a child again. When I was a kid living with my parents I was in charge of cooking dinner every night, making and serving coffee, doing the household laundry for all five of us once a month, mowing the yard once a week in the summer, etc. etc. etc. Now I'm not bitching about having chores. That's a given as a child. But because I was the eldest child I was tasked with doing damn near every chore there was. My sisters were only tasked with keeping their rooms clean.

Now that I'm an adult trying to make my way in this world with my husband I feel like I'm 13 again being charged with cleaning and cooking everything while everyone else sits on their computers playing, or watching movies, or napping all damned day. It's fucking frustrating and I just can't fucking live like this for the rest of my life. But there are days where I feel like I'll be stuck here forever. That dealing with the stress of my mother will end my marriage, will end my individuality, will end me. If I could get a real job I'd be able to help get us out of her faster but due to me not having a license and the household only having one vehicle I have to search within walking distance. And though I've applied at around 50 places within 30 minutes walking distance none have accepted. I've applied at many of them three and four times now. Each time being told the normal "we're not hiring" "you're under qualified" etc. etc. etc.

Anyway I feel like and in fact I'm sure that I've rambled through this entire post but I'm so exhausted, depressed, pissed off, and stressed that I can't keep my thoughts in line right now. Well, here's hoping things start to get better....

)o( Jena

Appointments and Plans...

So anyone who's read this far knows I live with my parents. You know that I live with my parents so I can take care of my mother. However, you also know that I hate the fact that after 6 years my husband I do not have a place to call our own. That will hopefully be remedied by the end of the year.

We are looking around at places in our price range and we've found a few that we are contacting to go through the application process. We have our fingers, toes, eyes, and tongues crossed that all goes well. We had planned on being out before Christmas when we found out that we were pregnant and though that pregnancy will never see fruition I refuse to let it stop me from going forth with my plans to find a home for my husband and me. To finally move on with our lives.

As for the appointments I have a WIC appointment Friday morning at 9:30 to recertify as post-partum so that I can continue to be covered for 6 months. Then Monday morning at 9:30 I have a dentist appointment for x-rays of my top two wisdom teeth as they are chipped and causing me slight discomfort. They will probably tell me they can fill or cap them and that I can move on with my life but I'd rather have them pulled. They've been giving me problems since they came in 8 years ago.

My husband and I also decided that we are definately trying again. Not now but in about a month when my cycles start again. Before all of this we weren't actually trying but we weren't preventing it either. Now that I've known the hopefullness and the loving joy of carrying a child in my womb I can't not try for a child that will one day be in my arms.

)o( Jena

Always a Mother... Never a Mommy...

These past few months have been horrible and hectic and wonderful and soul crushing. Where to begin... how about the beginning.

May 16th was my 24th birthday. Oh what a fun day. I went out with my hubby. Had drinks with my friends. All in all a good day. The 20th was our anniversary and the 24th was his birthday and we were making plans for that when we got a phone call at 11:45pm on the night of the 17th. Hubby's father had passed away in his sleep. We rushed to his mothers side to await the coroner. I held my husband and my mother-in-law and hoped that my father-in-law would find his way safely to the Summerlands.

He was cremated soon after and the week after Father's Day we held a small memorial at the church that had been like a second home to my in-laws for the last 4 years.

Then July came. My husband and I have been trying to have a child since we got married in May of 2008 (for those unwilling to do the math that's a couple of months shy of 6 1/2 years). We were finally successful in late June early July. I was feeling nauseous all day and I could barely make myself eat. I decided what the hell and took a pregnancy test. For the first time in 6 years it was positive. I was elated as was the hubby. I took two more over the next couple of days before telling my family and his mother. Needless to say planning started immediately.

We bought a diaper bag, baby book, a picture frame to hold the pictures from the baby's first year in it. We were given some clothes that my nephew has already grown out of. All of this gender neutral of course. Along with our planning for baby was my parents planning for a family reunion in Des Moines, Iowa. They'd leave August the sixth and return the night of August the eleventh. We were going to go with them. Until my first ultrasound came along. 

The ultrasound was scheduled for a week before the trip. I was going to have a baby photo to show to my family. Until we found out that they could not find my baby's heartbeat. They tried to reassure me. Telling me the machine was old. That I was only eight weeks and that sometimes they don't find the heartbeat until twelve weeks. But they also scheduled me for another ultrasound Thursday the seventh. This meant we couldn't go with my parents. 

I tried to stay upbeat about it. I tried not to worry but I couldn't help it. I'm a worrier. It's who I am. I shared my fears with anyone who would listen and they all agreed that my fears were understandable but that everything would be ok.

I had started to believe them.... until the morning of the sixth rolled around. 2 in the morning I called my hubby and told him to leave work because I had to go to the hospital. I was bleeding. I went to the emergency room and waited and waited and while I was waiting, in excruciating pain, my tiny water broke. The pain was gone but I felt that I was now without a doubt going to lose that which I had tried my whole marriage to create.

Those fears were confirmed when the doctor gave me an ultrasound and a pelvic exam. I passed the baby soon after before going home completely crushed by the events of the last four hours. I went home to find my mother, father, and sister waiting to hear the news. I walked in and simply shaked my head. My mom almost called off the entire trip. I wouldn't take no for an answer. They had planned and paid for this trip since February and I wasn't going to let this stop them. 

I forced them out of the door and proceeded to spend the next six days shuttled between my house and my mother-in-law's house as no one wanted me to be alone for a while. At first I was angry. No, more than angry I was furious. I loathed everyone for not letting me take the time to cry and mourn and drink and slip into a depression that was much deserved. But little by little I realized that that's not what I needed to do and these people, my friends, my family, were just trying to remind me of that. 

So, there you go. A horrible couple of months with some good things thrown in the mix. The main good thing I will take from this is that after six years of not knowing we now know that I can in fact get pregnant. And that in itself to me is a miracle.

)o( Jena

Another year older...

So my 24th birthday is fast approaching. 2 days and counting. Am I excited of course. But I'm also terrified. I'm going to be 24, I'll have been married for 6 years. What do I have to show for it? Most people would say, "A loving and thriving marriage through all the hardships." That's nice and all but it's not exactly what I mean.

6 years of marriage and we're still living with my parents. 6 years of marriage and no children. 6 years of marriage and we're only just now really looking at purchasing a car of our own. 6 years of marriage and we are no better off now than we were when we were married.

Sometimes, I'll explain these fears to my mother hoping that she'll just nod and listen but then I realize that I've forgotten this is my mother we're talking about. With her it's all "Give it to God" and "Have faith that you will succeed". Sigh...

I understand that I sometimes sound selfish when I complain about all of the good things happening for my friends that aren't happening for me/us yet. But sometimes you just have to let it out in order to see past the problem. I'd complain to my husband but he knows all of this already and there are days where I can tell he's tired of my bitching. I'd complain to my dad but he's not very good with that sort of thing. I'd complain to my sisters but one is so young she doesn't really understand what I'm going through right now and the other is going through something worse than I could ever dream. The only people left are my friends and my mother.

I sometimes wish that my relationship with my mom was strong like it used to be. But alas we've drifted apart and I know that's due to my choices but those choices will not be changed for anyone. In that I will always be selfish.

Well, I guess that's it. I've found one more place I can complain. Here. Sure whoever is reading this will probably get tired of me complaining about things but I can assure you I don't do it to annoy. I do it to help myself see past what's gone wrong so that I can make it right. I do it so I can survive and thrive. Thanks for "listening", whoever you are.

)o( Jena

PBP - Body Modification

"This is a very broad topic, but I'd really like to see what others think.  What are your views on body modification?  By this I mean any type of surgery or injection to change your appearance, piercings, brandings, tattoos... anything permanent.  Do you think it is okay to do so? Or do you think that nature's natural design is best?"

I honestly think there's nothing wrong with body modification. It's a form of expression. It's like telling the world who you are without actually saying anything. But there are some who are quick to judge. They believe that because you could "deface" your body with appearance altering items that you are no good. That you are someone that they don't want in their life at all. I don't believe this obviously. "Never judge a book by it's cover." The saying rings true to this day and will for all eternity to me. 

I have piercings and tattoos already but I have many more planned. From oldest to newest I had my ears pierced in the 8th grade (03-04), I had my ears pierced a second time when I was 17, I got my tongue pierced when I was 18.

A few months later I got my first tattoo (my husbands and my names) on the outside of my upper left arm.

Last October I got a breast cancer ribbon tattoo on my inside left wrist. 

And this past December I got my wedding date on on the left side of my chest. 

That's just what I have now. I plan on getting a third piercing in the cartilage of my ears. I plan on getting my naval pierced. I plan on getting my lip pierced. I plan on getting my nose pierced. I plan on getting a Wiccan pride ribbon on the inside of my right wrist. I plan on getting a pentagram on my outside upper right arm. I plan on getting the word Always on the right side of my chest. I plan on getting a cherry blossom branch down my right side. I plan on getting Belle down my left side. I plan on getting a "goth" and a "regular" Tinkerbell on the outside of each of my calves. I plan on getting a rose wrapping around my right ankle. I plan on getting the rosary my Grandmother made me so many years ago around my left ankle. And there's many more that just aren't coming to mind right now. 

So in my opinion body modification is perfectly fine. It's an expression of one's self. Sometimes it's even needed to tell all what you can't bring yourself to say aloud. It's not for everyone but it is a beautiful way to speak to the world.

)o( Jena

Can't speak right... WARNING: rant ahead...

I am in no way a great speaker. I stumble over words and I'm constantly searching for the right words when speaking aloud, often not finding them and becoming quite flummoxed when I can't. I can undertsand light ribbing about it. It's normally always for the same reason: I'm good with words when I'm writing. I'm good with keeping my thoughts focused when I'm reading silently. This sometimes confuses people when I can't seem to speak properly.

Now, as soon as I start to read out loud I stumble over certain words. Easy words. It doesn't bother me too much. That's not the point of this rant. The point of my rant is when I speak from my mind to people. I can't help falling over words and thoughts, especially when I'm very animated about the subject of the conversation. What's worse than stumbling over my words in a conversation is when the people I'm speaking to/with start to laugh at me and refuse to let me continue speaking my piece.

It's not so bad with certain people but when it comes from my husband it royally pisses me off. He knows how I feel being continuously interupted when I'm trying to get a point across. It's not even that he laughs when I stumble over words, it's when he laughs when my accent comes out.

In my own opinion, I have no accent. I've lived in the Northwestern area of Louisiana for all of my life save 3 months. But I don't notice the same accent from me that I notice from others in this area. I'm not sure why I don't hear it as I know some friends up north can hear it but I don't. However, when I get heated and animated over a certain subject a definite southern accent erupts forth. For some reason this coupled with my frantic tangent jumps and stumbled over words makes my husband see me as the height of hilarity.

It infuriates me. He knows this and yet he still laughs. He'll probably never change his ways with it and I know I'll have to live the rest of my life getting over the fact that my husband finds my anger funny. I really just hate hearing him laugh at my "angry accent". Hearing him laugh at my misused/jumbled up words. Having to completely drop the conversation to just keep some semblance of my sanity.

I just needed to rant. Thanks to anyone "listening".

)o( Jena

PBP - The Broom Closet

So, I haven't made a post in a while. I haven't really known what to write. So I decided to go with a prompt from Pagan Blog Prompts once again. Here it is:

"Are you in or out of the proverbial "Broom Closet"?

Do those around you know of your religion/faith/beliefs?

Or is your pagan-nature something you have to hide?"

Honestly, it depends on who you talk to. I've already told you that my mother and father are Catholic and that many of my family are as well. Due to this they either don't know or they do and wish not to speak of it. A few people do know though. My husband, obviously, and though I'm not sure he knows it he kind of pushes me to practice and study my path more than I would normally would. Just the fact that he knows my path, that he asks questions, that he supports it 100% without wavering is special to me. A few other people who know are my two sisters. One is Pagan and is working toward finding out what her true path is. The other is Baptist though she is questioning certain things that at this point I just can't help her with. Most if not all of my friends know and a few of my cousins know as they were raised in the same type of households I was they understand my reasoning for needing a change more than most.

I don't really feel that I have to hide my beliefs anywhere except for my home. Which, let's face it, sucks royally. I'd love to be able to celebrate the Sabbats in the comfort of my home when the weather is unforgiveable. I'd love to be able to have my books out on display, my candles, the pentagram my husband made me for no other reason than I wanted one. I'd love to finally have an altar. But, alas, that is not to happen in this household. It does stifle sometimes. Though I like to look at it as I'm growing proudly on the inside. One day, when I have a home of my own, I'll be able to put everything out and at that time, part of me won't care what those select members of my family think. It will be my house. My home. My safe haven to finally show off who I am on the inside and wish thoroughly to be on the outside.

What about you, dear readers? Are you in the broom closet? Or do you just have one foot out waiting for your chance to make a break for it?

)o( Jena

Feeling like a failure...

So, I started this blog to help me with my writing. To help me write more. I feel like a failure. My last post was in October when I got my new cellphone. I haven't been back since and I feel horrible about it. I debated just leaving the blog behind. Maybe even taking it down completely. But I decided that I'd just feel even more of a failure if I did that. See, I have a sort of problem where I never finish what I set out to do. In my life I've started a total of 15 (give or take) novels and short stories. How many were finished? Two. Those were back when I was in middle school. Very short "novels" only 10 chapters each. Not very well written but hey I was learning. I've recently started a new story. Not sure what it will become but I just can't keep quitting things. It's time for me to grow as a writer. To push through no matter what. It may not be the best but it will be mine.

But enough about that let me try and catch you up on just under 3 months of things... hmm. Well, I went to a party on Halloween night. Turned out the party was being thrown by my ex-girlfriend. But thanks to that party I met my new girlfriend. Well a girl I hope will become my girlfriend. I won't put specifics as I'm not like that but let's just say I'm happy. Even my husband is happy about this. Which is weird I admit but he claims it's not lol.

Either way moving on lol: right before Thanksgiving the whole house came down with something. Some of us had it worse than others but needless to say we were all miserable. Thanksgiving was good and not so good. Good in the sense that it was great family time but not so good in the sense that I cooked everything. I don't mind cooking but I will never cook an entire Thanksgiving meal again. Parts of it yeah. Having people come over with the other parts of it sure. But not the whole thing. I'm just happy I wasn't sick anymore or it would have been disastrous. Christmas was good as well. Didn't have to cook and that's a plus. Got some great gifts for everyone and I received some great gifts in return. I didn't get to celebrate Yule what with all the running around but I did give myself some solitude to thank the goddess for everything.

New Years was the only holiday that didn't work out for me. My new "girlfriend" has been having horrible New Years for the last few years. My husband and I wanted to change that this year. We came up with the idea that we were gonna figure out some way for me to get to her house (an hour away) to just spend time together. It didn't quite work out. She came into town anyway because of a party she'd forgotten about until a few days before and though I did get to spend some time with her on NYE she spent the rest of the night at the party. I don't mind that. I'm just happy she had fun. The thing that bothers it was it was my first NYE/NY alone. Hubby had to work and all my other friend's had prior engagements. Hubby made it up to me when he got off work but still.

Hmm let's see what else... oh I've been making a habit of going to this beautiful park every full moon for the last few months. I normally just do my full moon rituals here at home but it's been great to be so close to Earth during my rituals. Even my husband is showing an interest in observing and maybe taking part in one of my rituals.

So yeah, all in all a full last few months. Let's just hope I don't forget about this again. I hate how it makes me feel. So I'll be back. I promise.

)o( Jena