Friday, July 17, 2015

Baking A Cake For My Pity Party

So I was extremely triggered and maudlin earlier in the week. A couple of things happened to shift my mood.

1) My friend Joanie and her husband Paul called us up and we went out for a late lavish Italian meal at a local restaurant followed by some shopping. Joanie started sharing some of her eschatology views that always make me laugh because I cannot take any of them seriously. Apparently Sid Roth and other prognosticating fundamentalists are all calling for some end of the world cataclysmic event around Sept. 23 this year. Something like the government seizing control of everyone via martial law due to some happening.

Well, looking at Sid Roth's website to see if I can find the details while writing this and I see nothing about it, in fact Sid is hawking a tour of the Holy Lands in November, which would never happen if he was one of the end of the worlders. I'm not sure who she's citing, but I have heard talk of this Sept. date and disaster, just cannot remember who came up with it.

In my years in a charismatic conservative church I have heard every single end of the world scenario you can imagine well before Y2K appeared on the horizon and did nothing. I'm over it. As I always point out to her if it actually did happen I'd die quickly because of the asthma so there's no use in worrying about it.

2) I realized I'm not angry at God, or any God that might or might not exist over what happened to me. I'm freaking angry at guys like Joel Osteen who babble on about shaking off everything that happens to you from a hangnail through cancer, like it's actually possible not to react when some of the worst things life can hand you is even possible, much less a normal reaction. Joel lives in a protected rich white man bubble where child molestation, cancer, heartache simply does not exist.

3) I saw an article about the fates of women who were molested as children. So many of them end up working in the sex trade or on drugs or in jail that I realized anew that I'd made it. I escaped the worst fates, beat the odds and carved out a life for myself without those things. I have things I must work on to recover, particularly since I could not even admit what had happened to me until about ten years ago. Recovery is slow and not much fun.

I also made an effort to do a few things for other people to get my mind off my triggering on Sunday. Baked a cake for someone and hung out with an old friend of mine from my days working at the international floral wire service.

In my years at the floral company I'd always admired Debbie, she had a big booming laugh and was the only person I've ever seen there get away from deviating from the accepted script. Guys would call up, grumpily ask the cost of roses. Debbie would retort, "If you have to ask the price you cain't afford 'em" followed by that great big booming laugh. Somehow most the guys would laugh too and then order the flowers. It always reminded me of Texas Guinan greeting her nightclub patrons with a hearty "Hello suckers!"

But the absolute best thing about Debbie was when I was hired, we were given a few scanty hours training before being tossed in cubicles to sell items we knew nothing about, was that she sat in a cubicle facing mine and would go out of her way to help me when I had questions. That is rare in a commissions only sales environment. There were only what I would call a handful of decent human beings in the entire place. She was one of them and did not mind helping you out.

Debbie and I had quite a laugh talking about the things that happened at work. Like The Tickle Guy, who would call up in the mornings and act like he was about to order a big bunch of roses. As you started to lead him through the ordering process he'd start asking you questions, like if you had kids or little cousins and if you tickled them. The more you'd try to steer the conversation back to the floral order the harder he'd push talking about tickling, eventually asking you if you'd tickled them hard enough to make them pee on themselves. Suddenly you'd notice he was breathing hard before there would be total silence, he'd thank you and hang up. It was only afterward it would dawn on you that he'd been masturbating the whole time he'd been talking to you. Debbie and I were the only two that went so far along with the conversation to the end. Everyone else but us had the sense enough to realize this perv was molesting himself while talking to them. He called up regularly.

I quit back in 2010 and she was laid off a couple of years ago. Debbie didn't realize that the floral company had been slapped with a five million dollar fine for deceptive practices over their rewards program by the courts and that had been the reason they laid off most of the staff. She ended up working as a home healthcare aide until earlier in the spring when it was found she had cancer. She had surgery but not chemo and radiation as they said it wouldn't buy her any time. I suspect, knowing how many organs/pieces that they took out that the prognosis isn't a good one.

Didn't realize how much I'd missed Debbie and some of my other former coworkers that have tried to stay in touch with me. I'm going to have to see if I can made amends for my lack of communication with them.

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