June is national PTSD awareness month. Today my topic is PTSD in children.

The lingering trauma of childhood abuse is another sect of the population that may suffer from PTSD. Child abuse comes in different forms. It is physical, mental, emotional, sexual and neglect. Each indignation brings its own special hell for a child, and often children suffer multiple atrocities at the hands of their caregivers. 14-43% of children have experienced at least one traumatic abusive event prior to adulthood. In 2017 according to the American Humane Association 1,720 children died of abuse or neglect. 71.8% of those children were under the age of 3 and 49.6 percent were under the age of 1. While parents struggle with the line between discipline and abuse, abusive behavior can be traumatizing for a child and the affects may linger for a lifetime.

It is important to note that a child’s brain does not fully develop until around the age of 25. So during the formative years of development, especially the toddler years, a child does not process the abuse the way an adult would. They are taking in these actions as a part of life, not realizing that this is not normal or healthy for them. Professionals do not always agree on how PTSD forms or may be carried on through adulthood. What the statistics show is that females are more likely than males to develop PTSD. There are some determining factors on whether a child victim will develop PTSD.

·         The degree of perceived personal threat.

·         The developmental state of the child: Some professionals surmise that younger children, because they are less likely to intellectually understand and interpret the effects of a traumatic situation, may be less at risk for long-term PTSD).

·         The relationship of the victim to the perpetrator.

·         The level of support the victim has in his day-to-day life as well as the response of the caregiver(s).

·         Guilt: A feeling of responsibility for the attack ("I deserve it") is thought to exacerbate the changes of PTSD.

·         Resilience: the innate ability to cope of the individual.

·         The child's short-term response to abuse: For instance, an elevated heart rate post-abuse has been documented as increasing the likelihood that the victim will be later suffer from PTSD.

A child suffering from PTSD may have the following symptoms

·         Have problems sleeping

·         Feel depressed or grouchy

·         Feel nervous, jittery, or alert and watchful (on guard)

·         Lose interest in things they used to enjoy. They may seem detached or numb and are not responsive.

·         Have trouble feeling affectionate

·         Be more aggressive than before, even violent

·         Stay away from certain places or situations that bring back memories

·         Have flashbacks. These can be images, sounds, smells, or feelings. The child may believe the event is happening again.

·         Lose touch with reality

·         Reenact an event for seconds or hours or, in rare cases, days

·         Have problems in school

·         Have trouble focusing

·         Worry about dying at a young age

·         Act younger than their age, such as thumb-sucking or bedwetting

·         Have physical symptoms, such as headaches or stomachaches

Therapy’s for children who suffer from PTSD usually involve cognitive behavioral therapy and medications for depression and anxiety. However, there are other ways you can help a child suffering from PTSD.

·         Admit that the event happened. Pretending everything is normal won't help your child.

·         Be supportive and get counseling for children and teens who have seen or gone through a traumatic event. A child or teen may at first not want counseling. But it may be needed months or even years after the traumatic event.

·         Keep all appointments with your child's healthcare provider.

·         Talk with your child’s healthcare provider about other providers who will be included in your child’s care. Your child may get care from a team that may include counselors, therapists, social workers, psychologists, and psychiatrists. Your child’s care team will depend on his or her needs and how serious the PTSD is.

·         Tell others about your child’s PTSD. Work with your child’s healthcare provider and school to create a treatment plan.

·         Reach out for support from local community services. Being in touch with other parents who have a child with PTSD may be helpful.

·         Take all symptoms of depression and suicide very seriously. Get treatment right away. Suicide is a health emergency.

Some other points to note about PTSD in children

·         PTSD is a mental health problem. A child with PTSD has constant, scary thoughts and memories of a past event.

·         A traumatic event, such as a car crash, natural disaster, or physical abuse, can cause PTSD.

·         Children with PTSD may relive the trauma over and over again. They may have nightmares or flashbacks.

·         PTSD is diagnosed only if symptoms keep occurring for more than 1 month and are negatively affecting the child’s life.

·         A child with PTSD may need therapy and medicine. They are at higher risk for other mental health problems such as depression, anxiety, and suicidal thoughts

·         Call 911 if your child has suicidal thoughts, a suicide plan, and the means to carry out the plan.

Tomorrow, I will go into how childhood trauma affects adults and how to deal with a co-worker who is a sufferer of childhood trauma. There is so much more I can talk about when it comes to abuse, but for now, I'll leave you with this bit to chew on.

Links to references: (not in any format)

https://www.urmc.rochester.edu/encyclopedia/content.aspx?ContentTypeID=1&ContentID=3051#:~:text=Good%20judgment%20isn't%20something,cortex%2C%20the%20brain's%20rational%20part.

https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/somatic-psychology/201104/the-lingering-trauma-child-abuse

https://www.stanfordchildrens.org/en/topic/default?id=post-traumatic-stress-disorder-in-children-90-P02579

https://www.childwelfare.gov/pubPDFs/fatality.pdf

June is PTSD Awareness month. So, I wanted to take a break from everything else going on to have a little discussion about PTSD.  And the importance of knowing how to deal with a loved one who is suffering from PTSD.

Did you know that 4.4% of Americans aged 18-64 are diagnosed with PTSD? And that between 2005-2015 138,000 military personal received a new diagnosis of PTSD? What is interesting about the military statistics is that not all those who suffer from PTSD receive a diagnosis or treatment due to the stigma that surrounds mental health and being weak in military culture. 10-20% is the AVERAGE POST-DEPLOYMENT PTSD PREVALENCE IN U.S. INFANTRY PERSONNEL. Can you imagine, living in those memories for the rest of your life? The sounds, the sights, the smells? It must be a nightmare each and every day to function in a society that has no idea what you have been through.

(https://www.cohenveteransbioscience.org/post-traumatic-stress/)

Now, Today I am focusing on military, but there are a lot of others out there who suffer from PTSD that are not related to military causes. I will get into those later. But today, my focus is on military related because it is near and dear to my heart.

Below are five major myths we need to stop believing about PTSD.

Myth #1: Only combat veterans can get PTSD.

Myth #2: Everyone who is exposed to a traumatic event develops PTSD.

Myth #3: People who develop PTSD are weak.

Myth #4: PTSD cannot be treated.

Myth #5: PTSD is a personal issue.

(https://www.iaffrecoverycenter.com/blog/myth-vs-facts-about-ptsd/)

People who suffer from PTSD are NOT WEAK! I cannot emphasize that enough. The unfortunate side of effect of believing that PTSD makes you weak is suicide. Especially, veteran suicide. The feeling that they are so lost, hurt and weak so they do not deserve to live. On average 22 veterans a day commit suicide for many reasons, homelessness, PTSD, drug addiction, hopelessness. This is unacceptable when we have so many programs out there to help service members, but they either don't know about them, cannot gain access to them, or are too afraid to utilize them for fear of being weak. Worst of all, they do not have family to support them.

Family members of those who suffer from PTSD also are not educated or mentored in how to help their loved one who is suffering. We all want to help "fix" the problem, but often we don't recognize the signs of a PTSD attack, or how to deal with it when it does happen. Even we don't listen to our loved one when they tell us they are in an uncomfortable position. We often advise them to get over it, or it will get better, just try and you’ll be fine. It is important for loved ones to recognize how their veteran reacts and behaves in certain situations. It gives you tools to be proactive in aiding them through navigation of a stressful situation. It is important to have conversations with your loved one to have a better understanding of their feelings and what scenarios may cause a reaction. Unfortunately, there is not much training for loved ones to help. However, there is a group out there dedicated in educating loved ones on PTSD awareness.

I met the guys from Project Refit (https://www.facebook.com/projectrefitus/ ) at a Jeep event last year and really loved what they were promoting. Not only are they doing virtual buddy checks as well as in person when COVID restrictions are lifted, they also provide literature, counseling, and help to families with members who suffer from PTSD. Giving them the tools, they need to help with their loved one. Helping not only the service member or first responders, but the families is what made me most excited about their cause. It is hard as the family of a loved one who suffers from PTSD to navigate how to help our them deal with stressful situations. It would have been a blessing to not have to figure it out on our own, and to have that support system on our side when he first came home. I am LOVING what these guys do and hope that you will take the time to check them out.

In an effort to bring light to PTSD and to veteran suicide below are some links to share with your loved ones on how to obtain help for PTSD, for veterans’ benefits, and for understanding and preventing suicide. While this post ran long, I do have more to mention and will continue this conversation another day. But for now I am also providing links to the veteran’s crisis line (https://www.veteranscrisisline.net/), and to the Mission 22 Facebook page (https://www.facebook.com/Mi22ion.) I’ll provide more information on their services later, as well as bring information to those not in the military and other forms of PTSD.

I hope even one person finds this information helpful and will utilize it to help others. As always, if you have questions just ask. If I don’t know the answer, I’ll certainly find it for you. I hope you all have a blessed day.

Glass Houses

      I'm not going to lie to you. I'm not everyone's cup of tea. There are days when I'm not even my own cup of tea. I focus on the belief that everyone has character flaws. Everyone has something that is annoying about their character. Or, maybe not annoying, but it's something that would bother someone else. So, I try hard to treat everyone fairly and without judgment. I try to remember that I myself am not perfect and that there are things about me that annoy others as well. And that I'm just blessed and thankful to have the amazing people I do have in my life and for everything that the good Lord has blessed me with. 

      This week however, was particularly rough. My character, me as a person was viciously attacked, not once, not twice, but THREE times on Tuesday. Two of the attacks were in private, but one was through social media. That's the one that hurt the most. Not because it was out there for the whole world to see, but because it was particularly hurtful. It was a day where I seriously contemplated driving my jeep off the Chesapeake Bay Bridge and ending my existence. Whether you cheer or sneer at that last statement is precisely what I'm talking about. And for those of you that cheered, I'm super sorry to disappoint you, but I'm still here. A little worse for wear, but still kicking. And sad that the thought even crossed my mind. Why am I not worthy?

      Well, in the depths of attack I learned a couple of things. The first one, is I really need to stop putting myself down and opening up that ridicule for someone to glom onto. I unfairly called me and my family "pieces of shit" because someone was hurt that I didn't do something they expected of me. And while I'm not going to defend or argue what went down what I will say is that by demeaning myself and my family, this person used it as validation for their feelings towards us. Used it as a weapon not only against me, but to solidify the belief in their heart and mind that I was not worthy of respect, that this indiscretion was the worst thing I could ever have done to them, and that even I believe my family and myself are the lowest of the low. It was later that when the third attack on my character was in the heated throws of argument, it reminded me that I wasn't fair or right to demean me or my family. I hurt the very person who has been by my side for over twenty years with that statement. That reminder resonated with me and we are not "pieces of shit" and that I should stop calling such things. 

      They were right. I shouldn't have said what I said about my family. The fact is, that while flawed we are not terrible people. Actually, we are pretty good people. We are helpful, appreciative, caring, giving, fun people! Who are also flawed humans, just like everyone else. We did not deserve that attack and it would behoove people to remember that if you are upset with someone, or if you have an expectation of someone, maybe you should share that with them? I think we as humans think that if you yourself think or feel someway, then everyone thinks or feels this way. That somehow the other person should know that something is bothering them, or that they are in some way hurting you. But instead, we get angry, we attack, we make accusations, and we put our beliefs of that person's character on them leaving them confused and upset about who they are and questioning their very existence. I mean, if I'm such a horrible person, why should I be allowed to live?  

      The fact is that anyone could easily attack back and start slamming out all the things about the attacker that they don't like. What they do with their private life that you don't agree with or decisions they make that may not follow how you would handle the situation. A person could easily start a huge brawl on social media with an epitaph of all the things wrong with the person who attacked them, however; you let it go because you value the relationship more. Gaining the knowledge that person was harboring all this illness towards you. Remembering all the times you made excuses for their behavior, you forgave them, you explained it away to yourself and others you did that for them. Yet, they couldn't or wouldn't do that for you. And now you are ashamed for not sticking up for yourself sooner or ashamed for the things you've done wrong. For the times that person saw you at your lowest and is now holding that very thing against you. You chide yourself for being so stupid and the thoughts creep in. What if it is just me? What if I am just an asshole? What if I really am a piece of shit?

      Now, this all takes place with an earlier attack, and then to have the one person in your life who is supposed to have you back, be so angry with you that they tell you not to come home because they are sick of your negativity. You become worthless, hopeless, helpless. With a day that consisted of so much negativity I sat down and really thought about how to handle these situations better. Not to rain down so much hatred towards myself. I spent time convincing my other half that the person who attacked me has issues of their own and that it's not fair for me to hold animosity towards the things they said to me. That I'm not perfect, and neither are they. I thought about how I could better react to things at work that would put my face in the limelight again and not hold this black cloud over my head. Maybe, if I changed this or that about myself, I could be a better person. Isn't that growth? Isn't that how we grow as humans? If you aren't taking those things to heart and really taking the time to dig deep into your soul does that make you a bad person? 

       My point in this diatribe is that we all have flaws. And before you start throwing stones you best believe you have flaws too. There are things about you that the people in your life overlook because they care about who you are more than what that thing might be that irritates or annoys. They take the time and effort to defend you and your honor.   They point it out and say just they are still a good person in need of love and understanding and it's not fair to pass judgment on them when we are all flawed. You are flawed. Beautifully, undeniably flawed. A disaster of epic proportions. But you know what? You are also a person worthy of love, understanding, friendship, and compassion. You are not a "piece of shit." You are as you always will be... Human...

Shoes

I read a deeply disturbing story a week ago, a story about a young girl who was bullied and attacked by her classmates. They pinned her down, shouted racist remarks to her and cut off her dreads. Now, this story was fake, and the girl was never attacked and the boys in the story were punished for a crime they did not commit. Yet before we knew the story was false, before we knew the deceit and the lie, it was a girl… bullied… by her classmates. And that is where this story begins.

                Upon reading the story of the young girl my stomach flipped over, goosebumps permeated through my skin. It was an all too real reality for me dredging up a memory buried deep in the recesses of my mind, this memory resurfaced in full view as I read the words on my screen.  A story that many don’t know about me, I was bullied, severely, unequivocally, bullied. I know what you are saying, “we were all bullied.” It’s a rite of passage, moving through school-age into middle school and then eventually into high school. “Bullying happens.” And while the phrase doesn’t make it right, it does make it a reality. A reality in which so many children in this world face on a daily basis, and to the point of committing suicide at ages where they should still be playing with GI Joe’s and Barbie’s. (I know, I aged myself) We make children grow up way too fast, beg them to accept things their minds are too young to understand.

                This story tore at that part of me that suffered at the hands of my attackers, no one was there to help me. I was bullied to the point where the school brought in a special counseling unit in 6^th grade to interact with my class and myself on how their actions were hurting me and why they felt the need to do this to me? It wasn’t until 6^th grade that something was done about it. I had been in school since kindergarten. They discussed why the hand symbols (Anna aids) were used in my presence to indicate to other students that I was a disease and shouldn’t be touched. Speaking to me wasn’t a worthy conversation and forget friendship! Their reasons for these atrocities was something their pre-pubescent minds couldn’t explain. I was just different; they didn’t like different. They wanted the same. Maybe I was weird, maybe I didn’t match my clothes, maybe I was ADD, maybe I wasn’t smart enough, maybe my hair was too wildly curly and unkempt, it didn’t matter. They didn’t know, they didn’t understand, so they hurt the thing that didn’t make sense to them. It made them feel better about themselves. Regardless, the story of the girl and her hair surfaced a memory I had buried long ago.

I was riding home on the bus from school, sitting in a seat, alone staring out the window and minding my own business. I believe I was 2^nd or 3^rd grade and some boys behind me were berating me for quite some time. Yelling insults at me and laughing at themselves for being so clever and hurtful. It was a warm day and the windows on the bus were open. I remember the wind blowing through the windows rustling my hair, and drowning the sound of their laughter, their remarks, and their giggles. Suddenly, I felt something at my feet. HANDS! Hands grabbed my ankles and pulled them under the seat behind me. I slid face-first into the green vinyl backing of the seat in front of me, screaming and trying my best to kick the hands away to no avail. My arms frantically trying to make purchase on the seat and push my way back, a body moved into the seat next to me pressing my face further in to muffle the sound of my screams, holding my hands above my head so that his friend could finish the deed.

                My shoes! He was removing my shoes from my socked feet under the seat of the bus. His strong hands holding my kicks in place until he slid them off one by one. He was an older student, though now I couldn’t tell you his name nor remember his face, had pulled my feet under the seat to steal my shoes! After he slid them off my feet and his friend let me go he stood there proudly dangling my shoes in front of me as I was kneeling on the seat reaching at him trying to retrieve them. Laughing deep belly laughs at his accomplishment, red in his face at my frantic diving at his hands to retrieve my shoes, his friends high fiving him and laughing yelling taunts at me. He dangles my shoes outside the window of the bus. “I’m going to throw them, I’m going to throw them and then you won’t have shoes to wear. Poor little orphan Annie, no shoes for her to wear because no one likes her.” And then, this boy who had no other interactions with me other than to taunt and ridicule me, threw my shoes out the bus window. Tossed them like trash, and laughed his ass off in the process. I screamed, cried, and then the bus came to an abrupt stop. The driving having realized my shoes went out the window, stopped the bus and made the boy get out and get them for me.

                He did so begrudgingly and because she threatened to call the school and report him. (She never did by the way) The boy went out, walked back and picked up my shoes, threw them in my seat when he re-boarded the bus and smirked at me as the driver closed the door. She continued on her route, off-loading her riders at their pre-determined bus stops. Just a robot doing her job, annoyed with the slight hiccup in her route. While I was grateful to have my shoes back, I couldn’t help but feel angry that this boy did this, and wasn’t being punished for it. The driver quipping at me as I got off the bus, “never let them see you cry honey, this just gives them a reason to torment you.” The boy and his friends never received an ounce of punishment for what they did to me. Looking back, I don’t know who that boy was or if his future was bright, if he is successful in life, or if he continued this behavior of beating up on those he deemed beneath him, but I sure hope that he became a decent human being.

                What triggered this memory from that story? The manner at which she said it happened. Boys held her down and cut her hair, reminded me of being held down and my shoes removed. Yet my reaction to reading it was the same as everyone else, and I muttered the same exact words… “Everyone is bullied” Everyone suffers some form of bullying whether severe or lite there is a level of meanness in the world that is expanded in those who are unhappy with themselves. They decide to prey on those they have regarded as less worthy. Regardless of the why, this behavior is unacceptable. If the story was real those boys deserved every amount of punishment they received. What those boys didn’t deserve was being punished for something they didn’t do. How this little girl and her family received all this face time talking about this incident of bullying, that everyone felt terrible for her and how wrong and awful it was for those boys to have done that to her. She used this story knowing she knew would garner sympathy and apathy, utilizing that tool to bring down a couple of kids she didn’t like. And the truth is, the school isn’t punishing her for it. She wasn’t suspended like the boys were, she isn’t being punished even though in this sick twisted story she is the bully. SHE IS THE BULLY!

                If my story from 30 something years ago happened today, I could have been the girl in the story. The girl, victim of a brutal attack by people who just didn’t like her for whatever their reasons. Only, my story is true. My abuser was never brought to justice, my story never heard by the hordes of viewers who would talk about how terrible it was that any child would do something like that to another child. How that boy’s parents should be ashamed for raising a child that would do such horrible things to others? How I the victim deserved an apology and love and understanding. How the school, bus driver, parents, school district, and anyone condoning the abuse should be sued and punished to the fullest extent of the law for allowing such atrocities. Someone should have stood up for me! Someone should have been my friend! I was not worthy…

                I hope this girl learns from this mistake. That you shouldn’t lie about being bullied. It is a very real thing with very real consequences for the victim. It lives with them for the rest of their lives. In every interaction, in every story, in every part of their life no matter how much therapy, or medication, or just putting in the past and forgetting about it they do, IT LIVES WITH THEM FOREVER… You continue working around it to overcome and live your best life. Working to quell the demons as they rise and remembering that you are not that person anymore. You are not the girl that sat in that seat scared, crying, and alone. You speak up for yourself now, you vowed you would never allow someone to treat you like that ever again, that your voice would be heard and you would be a force to be reckoned. And that is what you become. A force so loud that it drowns out the voices telling you how insignificant you are to the world. It’s a battle each and every day.

Remember that the next time you decide to beat up on someone, remember that the next time you feel someone is overreacting to something and you don’t understand why. Remember that when you think it’s a rite of passage. Remember to help when you see an injustice. Remember is to teach your children kindness. But most importantly, remember that you are not alone, there are others out there just like you, we are here for you, we understand, and we only want you to be happy.

Unicorn Concept Story

Week 8: Unicorn

“I fucking hate Unicorn’s!” Erin screams out as she blasts yet another one with her flamethrower.

“These fucking beasts! Why can’t they just go back to their fucking island?”

Gabriel had just finished blasting another unicorn of his own when he looked at Erin and started laughing.

“A hey Erin, you got a little something on you.”

Erin looks at her arm.

“SON OF BITCH, fucking rainbow blood again. These fuckers can explode! You would think I would know better after five years, but NOOOOOO I keep getting sprayed like an amateur.”

“Ya, who would have known that five years after discovering Unicorn Island, we would be fighting these vicious creatures with flame throwers. FOREVER! Guess that mythical lucky charm legend was bullshit. Wish someone would have left us a note or something. Fucking ancestors and shit. Oh let’s banish these creatures to an island and not tell anyone, what could possibly go wrong?”

Erin snorts.

“Ya, like no one will ever discover this in the future and mess with it. They will know Unicorns are bad MMMKKKAAAYYY!”

Just then the familiar scream of a charging unicorn comes at them.

“I got it!” Gabriel yells out. And fires off his flame thrower, as soon as the flames hit the unicorn explodes.

“Jeeze these fuckers are coming out of the woodwork. Also would have been helpful to know they multiply like rabbits!”

“Fourscore and a million years ago, we placed these rapidly multiplying pieces of majestic nightmare on this island to protect humanity! Would have been a nice note to leave so that one day a scientist wouldn’t discover the island and go all Jurassic park on us.” Erin declared with her thrower in the air and leg on a rock.

“Ya, that was a good movie, at least you expect that from dinosaurs. Not magical creatures everyone thought were good luck. Fucking scientists can’t leave anything alone.” Smirked Gabriel

“Well at least we discovered what kills them. FIRE!!!” Erin beamed as she sighted up another.

Gabriel and I are assigned wall duty today as part of what is left of civilization.  Giant cement walls were built around major cities across the globe to protect what was left of life as we know it. Unicorns couldn’t fly, but they could jump pretty high. They were vicious, vial, mean creatures who were hell bent on wiping out humanity. No one understood how they got to the island, or why lore always had them as being lucky. They were organized too, which made fighting them a daily chore. I guess being banished to an island for God only knows how long gave them plenty of time to plan world domination. They are hell bent on eradicating humans from the planet.

Each shift spends the majority of the time wiping them out, but they multiply so rapidly it’s a never ending job. “Science” is working on a way to end the breeding, but it’s taking time. So we sit out here armed with flames trying to eradicate the unicorn invasion. We have been on this tour for about four months, only two months left before a month of well-deserved leave. And I can’t wait to spend some time doing non flame related things. Or having rainbow unicorn blood all over me. You’d think it would be good for your skin or something but NNNNOOOOO we have to wear hazmat suits. Fucking awesome.

“What are you going to do on your leave?” Erin askes Gabriel as she takes out another unicorn.

“Me, man I’m going to sit on the roof of my building with headphones on, a kiddie pool of water, and a large pitcher of mead and forget about fucking unicorns for at least a week.” Gabriel exclaims!

Fitting for a man named Gabriel to expel mythical creatures from the earth. If only we could figure out some sort of poison or something to wipe them out.

“Fuck here comes like 10 of them!” Gabriel exclaims as a herd of unicorn have decided to take out the two guards.

Erin lite up the wall! You see, they built a wall of flame throwers about 10 feet from the cement wall just for times like these. It’s actually a pretty spectacular sight. Flames and then rainbows! A juxtaposition of color, myth, legend, and reality. It could almost be considered beautiful. Like fireworks on the 4^th of July. Erin smiled at the thought.

“That wall is the most awesome thing EVER invented!” Erin says with a demon like tone.

“Ya, if it weren’t for that our hides would have been unicorn food.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure they’d spit your nasty ass out!” Erin elbowed Gabriel laughing.

“It’s good to not be delicious!!!” Gabriel elbows back.

And the two share a smile, before the next wave of attacks begin.

Week 18: Strategy

“LOOK OUT!!!” Gabriel screams just as Erin ducks below the stream of rainbow blood from yet another Unicorn attack.

“GOT IT!” Erin yells back as she turns slightly to her right to aim her flame thrower at another stampede.

“This is getting ridiculous.” She mutters. “They are becoming more organized, it’s like they are thinking with the same brain. How the hell are we supposed to stop this?”

Shrugging his shoulder Gabriel throws more flames down the field. “I don’t know Erin, but I think we need more people on shift. I guess our vacation time will have to wait a little longer. We should probably recall everyone and come up with a better plan.”

“Have the scientist’s come up with anything?” Erin askes exasperated.

“Nothing I’ve heard of yet. I thought they were trying to find something to spray in the air to prevent them from multiplying so fast.”

“I hope it’s soon, gear up, we have another stampede coming!”

A distress call comes through their coms.

Skish “Bravo team, bravo team, we need assistance to the south gate. Too many for just the two of us. Can you spare a hunter?”

“Spare? Are they crazy? We are barely holding it together out here!” Erin says

“That’s a negative Alpha team, we are being stampeded as we speak.” Gabriel calls out over the com.

“Roger Bravo. Eagle eye, Eagle eye, have any reserves you can send to help secure the gates? It’s getting dicey out here.”

“Roger Alpha, deploying more troops to the gates. ETA 20 minutes. Prepare for the wall of fire. Eagle eye out.”

“More troops?” Erin asks

“Wow, that’s a first!” Gabriel remarks

Just then the familiar sound of the air attack sirens goes off. Erin and Gabriel run for shelter. As the wall explodes in fire, you can hear the violent screams of the unicorns as they are incinerated. Rainbow blood explodes all around them. It’s both beautiful and haunting at the same time.

The wall of fire stops, and they get up access the damage.

“God I love that wall!?” Erin exclaims as the gate opens and expels two more troops.

“Hey Walter, how’s it hanging bro?” Gabriel reaches his gloved hand to shake Walter’s.

“Low and to the left my man, low and to the left. Heard you pussies needed some help!” Walter grinned out.

“Fuck you man, we were holding are own, it was Alpha team that called the distress in. Erin and I are kicking ass and taking names!”

Mavis pops her head around Walter. “Hey guys, can we save the ‘whose dick is bigger contest’ for later. We got work to do. We need to come up with a plan right Erin! Girl power plan!”

Erin laughs’ “If only their dicks shot fire, we’d be in good shape!”

“Hey ladies, you can’t handle all the man under this suit!” Walter pointing to his crotchal area.

“Ya, Ya, whatever, can we get back to the whole Unicorns trying to kill us part of our lives, I’d like to take a vacation this year.” Erin says exasperated.

“I heard the planes gearing up, which was odd considering we haven’t really been able to fly them too much, I wonder if they figured out the formula to stop the reproduction rate?” Mavis states.

Skish, “All units, all units, take cover and retreat to bunkers, prepare for wall of fire.”

“That’s odd, two times in a row?” Gabriel wondered out loud and scrambled for cover.

The sirens go off as they get into their positions, and then the hear the planes overhead.

“Huh, running the flames to provide cover for the planes? I wonder if they came up with a solution, or are testing something.” Erin wonders aloud.

“I guess we’ll find out soon enough.” Says Mavis

As the flames subside, and the planes move out of sight, the four hunters hunker down for the next fight.

Drink

WEEK 14: Drink

Clink

Cold condensation saturates the outside of the glass and runs across the tips of his calloused fingers. The glass makes a hollow glonk sound as it hits the wood of the bar. There is nothing quite like that sound. The sound of glass hitting wood, the cloud of smoke that surrounds his head. He is where he needs to be. He is where he is at home.

Clink

He taps his finger on the bar. That’s all he needs to do. The bartender hops right over and refills the glass. The brown liquid giving him new life.

Clink

He sits alone at the bar thinking about his life. Holding his glass with his smoke in his hand. His mistakes, his jobs. Wife one, wife two, kids everywhere.  “Fuck em” he thinks.

Clink

He thinks of jobs he once had. Labor jobs. That was the way a man provided for his family. A hard worker who wasn’t afraid to get his hands dirty. His hands were dirty all right, calloused, cracked, and dried out he used them to do all sorts of odd jobs. He couldn’t really hold down any good jobs. The bureaucracy, the bad managers, the weird hours, the hard labor, the drink…

Clink

The hardworking man is a myth now a day. All the college graduates, soft hands, big bank accounts, nice clothes, nice cars, hot wives. Couple of rug rats running around in designer clothes, they know nothing of the labor of the hardworking man.

Clink

They were told to go to school, get a good job, make lots of money, fuck the little guy.

Clink

That’s why their wives stick around. Hot little numbers just money hungry and well-manicured. They don’t want the callous hands of a working man touching their soft skin. Hmph, they cringe at the mere sight of me. Good enough to work on their car, keep it safe for their rug rats. Not good enough to have a drink with. Bitches.

Clink

Tap

Refill

His ole ladies were never satisfied. They wanted more from him than he was willing to give. He liked his lifestyle of working when he wanted so he could drink. They wanted cars, clothes, food, electricity. Seriously what did they think there were going to get when they married the hardworking man?

Clink

He takes another sip. The brown liquid burns as it enters his throat. It feels good. It feels smooth. It’s a good pain. It washes away the lump in his throat. Reminds him that is all memories are, lumps in your throat to be eradicated with booze. He snubs out the butt of the cigarette he was holding in his fingers, and lights a new one. Drink and cig in hand he takes another sip.

Clink

Heaven, is a place for angels. Working men don’t go to heaven. They don’t go to paradise. There is no paradise for the hardworking man.

Clink

He thinks about his children, and how he’s failed them. Or have they failed him? Yeah, they failed him, so did all the ex-wives. He wasn’t to blame; he was a working man. They didn’t love him, didn’t appreciate him. Didn’t understand his paradise in this drink. They didn’t know the release and the satisfaction of it. He needed this. He deserved it, he worked and worked why should he work and come home to some yappy kids and a wife telling him how shitty he is. Fuck that.

Clink

He earned this drink.

Clink

He didn’t need anyone in his life. Just this bar, just this drink.

Clink

Tap

Refill

Fuck family, fuck life. He is right where he needs to be this working man. His unemployment is about to run out because he can’t get a job. There is just no place left in the world for the hardworking man. The damn state and government takes all his money, taxes, how the hell is he supposed to live? No respect for the working man.

Clink

No respect for him. For his situation. For his plight in life. He didn’t have the opportunities of those college grads. Parent that encourage and education. Hmph, he’s lucky his ole man didn’t beat him to death.

Clink

Told him he better get his ass out there workin cause he wasn’t going to pay his way. No one was going to pay the way of a piece of shit like him. He wanted money he better start working for it. The only thing he was going to be was a working man.

Clink

“Fuck my ole man”, good thing he is 6ft under. He’s the lucky bastard now that he’s dead. He thinks of his mom and the years she spent with that man. His mother, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit that woman was a Saint. Married to a working man. Who did not appreciate her. Who beat her. Who only loved her when he was sober. Or drunk. You couldn’t really tell.

Clink

Mom

Clink

If only he had someone to hold him and tell him, it was going to be alright.

Clink

If only he had been given the opportunities of these self-righteous manicured men, he would have been different. He wouldn’t have to be a hardworking man.

Clink.

Tap

Refill

Fuck em

Clink

Tap

Refill

It’s the world’s fault.

Clink

Tap

Refill

Things will be better when I’m dead.

Clink

I am a victim of Facebook guilt!

Raise your hand if you have fallen victim to Facbook guilt.

Ok put down your hands, you know you fall prey to all the things people post, publish, and say on Facebook. The things that make you feel bad about yourself, your decisions, what you did or didn't do. Or even the things that made you go, " I guess I didn't really think this through, maybe I shouldn't have given my kids immunizations, maybe I should save every animal, maybe I shouldn't wear Pink in October for Breast Cancer, maybe I should change my political party, or not believe in God because that makes me dumb. Or maybe I just take things personally, I don't know but here are a list of things I am guilty of according to Facebook.

1. I covered when I breastfed.
2. I got immunizations for my children.
3. I got fat. I let myself go, I am a disgusting human being for allowing this weight to overtake my body. shame, shame, shame.
4. I am a republican.
5. I believe in God, and in Jesus Christ. (go figure)
6. I did not do every craft with my kids I have seen on Pintrest. ( and when I try, they don't always turn out well) ( that's what they made fail blog for.)
7. I did not homeschool my children. I sent them to public school. ( I know I'm a terrible person)
8. I did not actively take photos of every milestone in my kids lives. ( I'm lucky I remember to take photos)
9. I do not make my own, laundry soap, dish soap, shampoo, conditioner, cleaning spray, finger paint, play doh, dryer sheets, clothes, quilts, scarves, beds, furniture, eye shadow, lip stick, lip gloss, cold medication, air freshener, toothpaste, mouth wash, face wash, soap, furniture polish, toilet paper, paper towels, reusable plastic baggies, cat food, dog food, flea treatment, bug spray, Windex, Christmas decorations, chair covers, couch covers, curtains, towels, carpets, hair spray, moose, pillows, blankets, paint, gas, oil, cooking spray, etc... etc... ( I waste money on all that crap)
10. I do not get up in the morning with a smile and my face and a positive disposition.
11. I yell at my kids.
12. I do not rescue every animal I see. (I know it seems like it, but I let a few go)
13. I don't always remember to say Happy Birthday.
14. I don't have a super clean house. ( I have a super tiny, grossly disorganized one)
15. I am not organized.
16. I am not an advocate for anything to the point of beating down everyone who is also not an advocate.
17. I wear Pink in October ( and most months) Even though it trivializes Breast Cancer. ( Because it is the way I know to support those who suffer)
18. I know for a fact, not all babies can be saved no matter what you do.
19. I have a relationship with my family.
20. I don't go to the gym regularly and work out.
21. I don't always eat healthy. Those damn french fries are my Achilles heal. And chips..
22. I apparently inundate Facebook with useless thoughts from my head. ( guess I'm doing that now)
23. I drink alcohol.
24. I smoke even though I'm going to die. (in this day and age I should know better)
25. I am not fiscally responsible.
26. I believe you should work hard, and not get hand outs.
27. I got a useless degree. And I paid for it. ( I know crazy right)
28. I don't work a phenomenal job that everyone is so impressed with.
29. I don't shame you for not believing the way I do.
30. My kids are not perfect, straight A students that I must boast about at all times. ( but they are mine and I love them)
31. My husband drives me nuts sometimes. I drive him nuts. It's an equal partnership of nut driving. (That's what she said)
32. We are not perfect. I know it's hard to believe, but geeze we just can't get perfection down.
33. I like meat. ( I have seen the cow slaughtered, I know where it comes from, I still eat it. And Bacon. Bacon is good. )
34. I am not environmentally friendly. ( I recycle, I compost, but I also drive a Hemi.. I'm sure my great-grandkids will thank me for that.)
35. I hate romance.
36. I feed my family crap sometimes. Not always, but sometimes, I'm just not that organized for every day non-crap feeding. We stop at McDonald's. I know the horror of it all. It's just so sad....
37. I do not believe guns kill people, I believe people kill people.
38. I like guns.
39. I believe my kids should pay for their own college.
40. I love my family all of them, everyone, no matter who they are, what they have done, or where they are, I love them.
41. I love the gays. ( I know, I know it's against my religion, but I'm certainly not going to go to hell for loving people)

I'm sure I could go on and on, but I think you get my point.


 I am only posting this because I am sick and tired of being beat down by Facebook. Everyone has their own lives, everyone has their own beliefs. Do not bash me for mine, as I have not bashed you for yours. Stop making people feel guilty. Facebook is the forum for providing encouragement, prayers, thumbs up, staying connected with friends and family, and a million other things. It should not be the place where people go to pick on people for their beliefs, or lifestyles, or choices. I may not agree, but I respect your belief, I respect your right to believe that way, and in no way do I believe you are somehow uneducated, dumb, or just do not pay attention to the world around you. You are who you are, I am who I am, and we are all going to live harmoniously in this life of craziness. I am on Facebook for you. Not for what you believe, but for who you are. So stop the Facebook bashing. And Love each other for who you are, love yourselves. Be proud of every accomplishment, and mistake. Take pride in your life, and always respect each other.

And please don't take offense. This was meant to be funny.