Another Private Blog Post about Centrifuges.

Nothing had turned out as I planned.
I had planned a life with my just out of high school sweetheart in 1999.  My happily ever after, the way I imagined it, would result in a train trip to the Pacific Northwest, never having to explain what I meant, loving and laughter...
Then he threw me across the room while I was 8 months pregnant with our daughter for not adding meat to the spaghetti sauce.  We did travel a tiny bit, but we mostly just fought when he'd ask me to explain why I had taken a particular turn on a particular road.  Then, (regardless of how much the turn made sense,) he would call me stupid.  When I told his friends, most figured I was lying about all of it.

Then, I left and was taken in by two of my girlfriends, then kicked out a month later when they wanted their couch back.
I found an apartment with a male friend of my ex-husband's.  A man I had gone on one date within a casual, friendly sort of way.  We were to have a roommate, but she decided she did not want to "betray my ex" in such away.
Then, my happily ever after emerged as dreams of getting my Associate's degree, then moving on to Northwestern in Chicago.
Then just settling down with our family and friends nearby, then eventually just our families.
Then those dreams slowly dissolved, and I had to admit to defeat again.

Then my dream became, living my own happily ever after all by myself, where ever the wind dropped me, sprouting wings, meeting strange people in clubs and having questionable relations with them in cars and bathrooms because I was afraid to pick up a dildo at a sex store.
That then became moving to North Carolina, where I knew no one but the weather was better, and I was within a 4-hour drive of my father's home.

Then when I was rejected for such social interaction, when going to a steampunk gig my brother was throwing, I met a sweet man named Steven.
Now, my dreams of happily ever after are a lot vaguer, just "make it to next week, make it till our children are grown up." We dreamed of moving to Paris until he found out I dislike France.  (I've never been there, I just remember my Dad going there while I was graduating from high school and being bitter about it.)
I occasionally get a dream in my head.  I occasionally think of some happily ever afterthought, but our lives are not this, they are survival.  We found each other that we may survive.
And that's the best we can really hope for.

This post was private but I wanted to use it for my decade rewind

Travel tips
We did a lot of travelling this year.
From May to August we spent every weekend travelling, we went to Evansville for the Step-Daughter's world series, we went to the UP and explored heavily, we hiked more than usual, we went to several beaches on the west side of the state and generally had a blast; until August.

My Dad came up to Michigan in Early August for my Uncle's Wedding celebration, (their wedding was in Florida in May, but they had a reception for family in August.) He looked ok, was slowing down but not terribly, still sharp, still played guitar for the whole family, about Saturday morning he said he gut hurt, and that he would go to the hospital when he got home because it was only a "bowel obstruction", but he really had far too much to accomplish while he was in town.

Fast forward to Thursday of that week, me calling to make sure he and his "girlfriend" got home, and "Well Dee, I'm at Piedmont Mountainside, and it looks like they're admitting me.  Appendicitis and it ruptured.  I'm going in for emergency surgery sometime tonight, but first they're sending me to Piedmont Atlanta.  I love ya kid, gotta go."

And I calmly, but quickly, gather my work accoutrements and get the F out of my office.

I decided going home and waiting for news was the best thing I could do, I made Steve stay home from work because he worked in Kalamazoo and if I was going to have to run down to Atlanta, I didn't want to have to do it by myself.

WELP.  The "girlfriend" called at 9:30 saying that everything was horrible and that she was sure my Dad was going to die.  I only said "I'm on my way" and called my former step mother Susy to find out her take on the situation.

She knew very little about what was going on, and Karen, the aforementioned "Girlfriend" wasn't keeping her updated.  See, there was a problem already brewing.

Suzy was to be managing my Dad's finances while he was in the hospital or unable to mange them, Karen was to manage his DNR on file with the hospital and reiterate his wishes.

Well, Karen told myself and Susy several times she didn't think she could do it the last time my Dad had a scare.
As next of kin, and my Dad being in a really bad way, I had to make tracks.  But, I didn't get paid til the next morning, and Steve was again scheduled to work.  Being as we didn't have confirmation it was the end yet, Steve had to go to work the next night.  So, 13 hour drive to Georgia starting at 11pm because I had to borrow a few bucks from my family to make it down.

I'll skip the rest of the details, but I was down there roughly 5ever.

We've basically stayed put ever since.  I would like to travel more, but holidays+work+pretending to give a shit...

Anyway... Back to "work."

#metoo #IBelievesurvivors

I have learned so much since I last wrote here.  I have also moved through my grief like a child moves through muddy water: slowly and in pretty much constant fear.

My daughter was molested, for 8 years under my nose and the noses of many who I loved and trusted.
She was afraid to tell me.
I lived with blinders on for years, refusing to see signs pointed out to me.

There is no excuse for that.  None.
Did I sometimes wish I had never been born, or that her molester hadn't been?  Sure.
But, the whole thing is that without me, there would be no her to light up the world.  Without the molester there would be no little men to light up the worlds of the people who love them and who used to love me, too.
These kids had to exist, and for some reason I have yet to understand this had to happen this way.
From 8am-8pm, I stand in solidarity with those who have been harassed, assaulted, been told they are lying, and with those who are brave enough to speak out again and again in spite of those who would silence them.
I stand with my daughter, with Dr. Ford with the people whose rape kits were never processed, people who were drugged at bars.

I do not understand why all of this is happening nor why it continues to happen.  I do not understand my place in this new and foriegn land we all have found ourselves in for the past 6 years, but I do understand hope and civil disobedience.
May we all come out of this ahead.

The aftermath

One of the things that always amazes me about this whole experience, is how long the damn thing seems to dig it's claws into you for.
Going on year 3, and I still find it difficult to sleep at night.  I still find it difficult to relax and unwind, (admittedly I was somewhat uptight anyhow.)  I can't resist driving by my kids school and looking for them on recess, even though I'm too far from the playground to see individual faces.

All day every day, there is a constant litany of reminders of how things used to be.
I miss the accused, who was my best friend for 10+ years, and suddenly disappeared.  We had all of these inside jokes, all of these silly moments, all of this wonderful family time together.  On the days we woke at the same time everything felt RIGHT in the universe.  I miss his family, I had learned to love and respect these people, and every day I wake up, something reminds me of all I have lost personally, all my daughter has lost, all the kids have lost and even sometimes all the accused has lost.

I am grateful for what I have gained, my new husband is wonderful and takes good care of me.  The extra time to paint, or write or play music, or whatever it is I decide to do, is a welcome benefit of this whole shit storm. He spoils me rotten, but I know I'm not quite where I once was yet.  He feels like I'm running the household, and I feel like he is, but neither of us is really at the wheel, and that's not to say that the boat can't handle itself.  It just isn't directed much of anywhere right now... or maybe it's just directed everywhere.  We're floating on a thing and we have no idea where it's going.  That's both liberating and terrifying, and completely what we are doing right now; running around feeling both liberated and terrified.

I honestly feel that I am losing my mind much of the time now a days.  The anxiety attacks that cause my throat to close up, the tears welling up in my eyes and falling so fast down my face that I cannot even reach up to dry one before 27 appear in its place.

It's like the grief is an embodied thing, whose weight sits squarely on my chest from the time I wake up until the time I leave work, then it kind of gets off of me a little bit.  Just a little.  Like it's teabagging me or something, but it's no longer directly on my chest.

You'd think that'd make it somewhat easier to breathe, and it does.  But you still feel something is off.
And, truth be told, something IS off.

I find myself repeating again and again the same things... This is not as it should be.  Something is wrong, God I would give you all that I have to see my children one last time and at least say goodbye, even if I can't tell them why.
And these thoughts become my soundtrack throughout the day.  Usually around noon the "Not Good Enoughs" chime in with their hit "You Should Probably Just Jump off the Damn Roof Now." but after some lunch and nicotine that tune changes to their next famous hit "You Probably Wouldn't Succeed at that Anyway you Big Fat Loser."  Followed by the "Self Critics" single, "Why did you put your Ex in Jail where he'll die?"

It feels like a broken record playing in my skull every damn day.  Like I am doomed to a hell of same thing-ness.  The greatest hits of all my failures.  All at once, again and again.

Nothing new happens, and when new things do happen they are not always good things.  In fact, most of the time it's some bad thing that happens.  I just kind of feel like yelling at people and saying "Can't you see I am barely holding myself together as it is??!?! Do you think I really NEED to be dealing with your bullshit right now?"

But the cars in traffic don't really seem to care much.
They still keep hitting their brakes.
Even though I've gone plenty of places and moved well beyond this, I don't feel like I've gone anywhere at all.

Goodnight, Sweetheart

My Mother contacted me rather frantically on Saturday morning.  She explained that she had searched google on a gut feeling, (she does this from time to time, her intuition is on point).  She had found an obituary in one of the local papers.  It was for Paul's Grandmother.

So, to that end I am writing.

First, Jeannette, you were always so kind to me, taking me in as your own granddaughter in 2002 when I was just Paul's roommate.  You invited me to come to Thanksgiving dinner.  It was a typical Polish Thanksgiving, there was turkey, 'craut, kilbaska, football, and a house full of teenages and young adults.  There was no music, but there was plenty of sound.

I was not well recieved by everyone there; but that was mostly due to teenage cliques formed by the cousins.  I was made to feel welcomed by Jeannette and Frank, who asked me about my story, who I was and where I was going in my life.

By Christmas of that year, they had bought myself and my daughter Christmas presents, and taken me in as family.

When all of us got together on holidays, we'd talk about old stories, how Detroit used to be, what Paul was like as a child.  Easter of 2005 I was very ill after having Evan, and she happily held the baby and made sure I sat and got rest.

She was the matriarch of the family, and as such did all of the planning for get togethers.

I was shocked and saddened to hear this wonderful human being had moved on from this plane of existence.  I am very sad I will not have a chance to mourn her passing with the people I considered family.  But I know it wouldn't be right.
I sent flowers and a card, because that's what you do.

My dear former and always family:
I love you, I hope some peace can be found in the fact that Sweetheart is no longer suffering.  You are all beautiful people, and I see aspects of her in each and every one of you.  As you go on in this new chapter, know my heart is with you, just as it always has been.  I am deeply sorry for your loss, and I hope someday I see you all again.

Goodnight, Sweetheart.  Rest well.  We all look forward to seeing you again.  <3

My Response to the Allegations made against Jared Fogle

No one knows but Jared what happened with those children, so before we all blaze in with our pitchforks and torches... Let's let the law men do their work. Having said that, here is a message for Katie Fogle: who has already responded with a brief statement:

"Obviously, I am extremely shocked and disappointed by the recent developments involving Jared. I am in the process of seeking a dissolution of the marriage," Katie said in a statement. "My focus is exclusively on the well-being of my children. Neither I nor my family will have any further comment on the matter. I appreciate respect for my family's privacy during this difficult time." 

You know in your heart the truth of the matter.  Just stay quiet, tell the denial to take a back seat for a minute, ask "Could this really happen?"
If you answered yes, get out now before CPS starts asking questions, follow the following steps:


1. Leave, do not have another word with Jared.  This is going to be the worst and hardest part for you.  This is someone you loved and trusted with your life, your best friend.  It will be the hardest thing you do, and you'll have to keep doing it, but, for the sake of your kids, KEEP DOING IT.

2. Do not allow anyone who is associated with your soon to be ex husband to watch the kids on their own for even a moment.  Not overnight, not at all.  Trust me, it may seem like a nice idea to get away from this nonsense, but considering what happened to me, you'll spend the rest of your life kicking yourself if you do allow it.

3. Cooperate with CPS but take NO SHIT.  Do not let anyone browbeat you into admitting to something just to get them to let you alone.  Be blunt, be honest, be short, follow whatever suggestion they give you and do not complain about it.  If they pull in other family members, let them call you the horrible things they are going to, but then refute LOUDLY.

4. Have your children talk to a children's advocate right away, just to make sure there is nothing more serious going on.  Don't wait.  It'll give you piece of mind.

5. Breathe, hang in there.  You weren't in a place to know all of this yesterday.  Don't blame yourself, this isn't your fault.  Some people are just wired differently, and sometimes they short circuit.  You couldn't have known on your first date, you couldn't have known on your wedding day.  Your life will fall apart, that's a given.

I pray that you, too, learn to make a mosaic of it.

Nameste,
Danielle.

This is my story

I am Daniel Ryan

I am in utero

I hear voices singing “Danny Boy”

I am Danielle Rene

I have entered the world screaming and the color of a blueberry

I do not wish to be here, not this way

by my own terms,

but not on the terms of those around me who wear

masks and hair caps

screaming “She’s not breathing”

Frantically removing the ties from around my neck

the umbilical cord tightly woven

around my blue neck.

I am Dee

I am 9 months old

I have expressed to the young girl a few doors down that my

“Name is Danielle but you can call me Dee.”

and thus my nick name

I am Dee

I am 5 years old

I have been taken to specialist after specialist

until one proclaims “dyspraxia nervosa”

and I do not know what that means

my parents look gravely at me

but tell me they’ll help

should it ever come to pass I need it.

I am Dee

I am different from the other children

I take every statement literally

I worry constantly

I think I am smarter than everyone in my class

but I can’t prove it.

no one gets me

no one understands me

I am left to my own world

my imaginary friends accept me, with their crazy name

“koo koo” and “Quiche”

I can’t remember them now.

But I remember their names

As clear as my own.

I am Dee

I am 12 years old

I received a letter from my parents at 6th grade breakfast

saying how proud they are of me.

saying “the doctors said you’d never write, run, ice skate…”
“look how wrong they were!” they say, pleased.

I think, “Do you know how hard that was for me?”

“Do you know how hard I worked at that?”

I am simultaneously proud and alienated.

Santa, the Tooth Fairy and now this?

How do you follow that up, Ma?  

How do you follow that up, Dad?

I am Aisling Violet

I am 16 years old.

I have just left Special Ed.

I am Wiccan, a poet, an artist,

a debater, a fencer…

I stand strong on my own two feet

I turn my heel when things are not right

I fix what I can, I accept what I can’t.

I am very much alive but dead inside.

I am Dani

I am 18 years old

I play tag at midnight with my friends

I go to the movies

I play laser tag,

anything to keep me away

from home

with the constant litany of poor me

the constant chatter, the constant arguing which leaves me hiding in my room sobbing

and writing

I have retreated to my own world.

and now I am leaving for points unknown.

I am leaving for the Sault.

I will not return.

I am Danielle Dunne

I am 19 years old

I am in the hospital

watching the clock on the wall between feedings of my baby girl

I am still a child

and I have a child.

I have become everything my husband to be wants me to be

I have no individual identity

I do not stand on my own two feet

I stand on his and allow him to lead.

I am Danielle Renee Brown

I am 22 years old

I am a battered woman

I am finding my strength

I have no vehicle of my own

I spend my time with my daughter at home

Trying to educate her as best I can

and show her this behavior from a man is not acceptable

that she’ll be stronger than me

I survive on one meal a week, that my daughter can eat the rest of them

I binge when food is available, then do not eat for a week.

I have started yoga, I have started classes even though

I am told I will never be allowed to have more than an associate’s

I am not happy, but I am coping

I see no other way.

I am Danielle Renee Dunne

I am 24 years old

I have moved in with my college boyfriend

we have a dog and 8 pet rats

we are both majoring in Journalism

we work at the student paper

we both have our identities,

and when I cannot stand on my own feet he offers me a cane

he saved me

he drove in the middle of the night and saved me

all the way to Toledo.

We are so very happy.

he is my soulmate

we remember our past lives together

have relations at least twice a day

I am Danielle Renee Domanski

I am 25 years old

I was married in March, our son was born in April

my life is so happy and full

I cannot believe this is real.

This is my dream come real

My daughter is a bit needy, but my children are perfect

the neighbors downstairs scare me

I hear echoes of my former life from below

and I want to reach out but…

my life is so full and so beautiful.

I cannot bear to look away, it may change and…

I may wake up and realize this was all a dream.

I am Danielle Renee Domanski

I am 32 years old

I have four children.

I can’t believe I have four children.

Seriously, when the hell did I get four kids?

Who said this was ok?

Where is my husband?

Where am I?

Who is this man sleeping next to me?

Where did my knight in shining armor go?

is he really a retard in tin foil?

How will I drive these children around?

And my husband, how will I transport him?

On the roof of the car?

He can’t drive or anything, barely knows his name half the time

and what’s this now that he’s been molesting my daughter?

Who’s life is this anyway?

I WANT OUT.

But he’s in there somewhere.  My knight, my handsome keeper

He’s in there somewhere.

Where are you, Paul?  Where did you go?

My name is Danielle Renee

I am 34 years old

He’s in jail

I put him there

and there he must stay

my bed is empty, and I am so lonely and sad

looking and the memories of lives long past and wishing

for one more kiss

and one more dance,

and I cry all of the time

my sons are gone

my daughter I only see when I drive

to the other side of the state

I have taken in some college girls to ease my pain

but nothing helps.

I am Dani

I am a fuck bunny

use my body

for I am worthless

there is nothing to me anymore

my soulmate might as well be dead

and here I am, still alive, still out, still breathing

I had to do this, to protect my daughter.

forget I mentioned my daughter

just make my worthless body worth something

fuck me

allow me to pleasure you

for that is all I am worth.

I am Danielle Renee

I just am.

I remember back to when I was happy

and alone

in my bedroom

when the only world I had to understand

was my own

and I remember

and I understand

and I live there.

I am moving away from this hell hole

that was my dream

turned perfect nightmare

I am Danielle Renee

and I really really really don’t want to fall for you

so I am going to pretend to pay half attention to your words…

but then I realized you write in a way that I enjoy reading

you write how my heart feels

and so I tentatively look into your eyes and

FUCK.

I am Danielle Renee Dunne, Again.

and this is my continuing story.

I have restarted my life so many times now

that it seems strange to continue from last save.

but here I am

continuing.

Save points corrupted, but happy for the first time in 10 years

still lost

still finding my way.

with my new love beside me

my new husband sleeping soundly

as I attempt to sleep

and find myself restlessly dreaming again

of the adventures we’ll have tomorrow.

I am completely and wholly myself, with all the former lives mixed in, for better

or worse.

I am.