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August 21, 2014
Latest Entry: Aaron
I want to scream at every person who looks at my son and I like he's a uncontrollable brat. He is autistic
August 21, 2014
Latest Entry: Narcissism Builds Leadership
Narcissism has always been frowned upon and branded as immoral, why?
Sure, a narcissist is an arrogant, self-centered, shrewd and a vindictive human; but in today's world, where self-indulgence is a priority aren't we all becoming a generation of narcissists? Ironically, all the those traits listed above can also describe someone who's a leader. This makes me question if being a narcissist is such a bad thing after all? Certainly not, in fact here's why I think narcissism is extremely important in today's competitive world.

To be a leader, you need to have a strong will. Narcissists can be strong leaders because of their ability to dominate others without batting an eyelid. Having self-belief and confidence is what separates a leader from a low level employee , and a narcissist has that in abundance. They make decisions without flinching and firmly believes that their authority is law. This makes all the difference.

They're confident and selfish, but it's perfectly okay because if you're not selfish, you won't go anywhere. Narcissists tend to work harder mostly because they want to stay ahead in the game. And it works, because in today's cut throat competitive world if you're anything less, you won't survive. It's a dirty game, but a game you have to play to succeed.

This, again, is one of the best traits of a leader. Narcissists are highly charismatic, they entertain people, yet they can go to ruthless levels to get things done.

Narcissists are Focused. They know exactly what they want out of life and they also know how to get there. As long as they love what they do and believe in their cause, there's no stopping them. Being a narcissist means using all your traits to get to the top. And in today's world being at the top is all that matters, no one cares about who is below.
August 19, 2014
Latest Entry: Going slow but still motivated.
Tomorrow is Wednesday. I get a little money that I can enjoy for the weekend. I keep motivating myself to save for a car.

On the days I don't feel so good I motivate myself to stay happy until those dark clouds pass. I'm not in jail, and I'm around the right type of people who build me up. Who are no longer a burden to my self-esteem. So y'all pray for me I need all the help I can get. I'm a very spiritual, and non judgmental person. Give great advice, and above all I'm a terrific listener.

I've conquered my past demons, and I'm truly looking forward to the future.




Keep your head up. The future is not set. So make yours the best it can possibly be.





August 17, 2014
Latest Entry: Susan Bachman Missing Since July 4 from Pennsylvania
On July 4, 2014, Susan Bachman, a woman from Centre County, PA jumped out of a moving vehicle off route I-80 when she was being transported by her parents to a psychiatric hospital appointment. She then fled into the woods, and a five-hour search and rescue effort by the state police failed to find her. The family has taken multiple steps and received broad community support in their efforts to find Susan. Three national outdoor advertising companies donated space on their digital billboards. The family engaged a specialist search-and-rescue canine team to do a second search of the area. The family received the help of several national truck stop chains in spreading the word. They had no news until last week. A security guard at a Pilot Flying J in Lake Station, IN received the flyer in early August and recognized Susan as a woman who had created a disturbance at his location on July 11. This woman appeared sober but was delusional, claiming that the location was supposed to be shut down because all the people there had been murdered four years earlier. At the time, the security guard escorted the woman off the property. When he saw the flyer and learned that she was a missing person, he immediately reported the sighting to Pennsylvania State Police, who then informed the family. This is the first and only confirmed sighting of Susan since she disappeared. Thinking this may be the last chance to find their daughter, Bill and Nancy, both in their 70s, embarked on a journey on I-80 to post up flyers and to encourage others to do the same. The family is documenting their journey and their efforts via a webpage, Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest, and Vine. Links to all these are on their website: www.FindSusanBachman.com Their website has received over 80,000 views and their Facebook page has around 1400 followers. I think your news audience might be interested in hearing about this family's efforts and I know family members are available for interviews. They have been interviewed by local TV news stations in Iowa, Nebraska, and Wyoming. Also Wyoming newspaper & Utah public Radio are covering their story. As they passed through I-80, they stopped at rest stops and truck stops, posting the Missing flyer and asking the public to help spread awareness. I encourage you to contact them at findsusanbachman@gmail.com or via their various social media pages. Also please share to your followers or email list. Thank you on behalf of the family
August 16, 2014
Latest Entry: Wally's World take one
I was sad to hear about Robin Williams suicide and am thinking of his family.  I too suffer from clinical depression as well as panic attacks.  I find it very sad to think of the mask he wore for the public when he was in such pain on the inside.  People who say someone who has depression is the most selfish person you will find.  I don't believe that.  When you are in the depths of depression you really aren't thinking of anyone.  You just don't care much about anything or anyone.  I know what my family has gone thru over the years and I am so sorry for what they had to go thru while I had my highs and lows.  Today was a good day for me.  I got out of bed early, took a shower, put on make-up and went out with a girlfriend.  I won't worry about tomorrow until it gets here.   Hope you had a great day also.
August 15, 2014
Latest Entry: About the power of forgiveness
I just wanted to make an entry baed on an experience I had lasty weekend while visiting my 2nd home as a teen.

How to begin?? I'm currently 56 years old and an 'only' child.

My mother was very psychologically and physically abusive with me while I was growing up as a child, lost my father at age 7.5 and he was 49. Came home and died of a heart attack.

When I was 18, my mother had a stroke at work, I HAD to look after her as there was no one else, I also had her sister living with us, but that's another story.

Mom lived for 10 years and then died from complications.

Time passed and as I became more aware of the abuse, I was getting angry and ALOT of pent up anxst inside.

Like I said in my intro, I had a trip to my 2nd home last weekend. I decided I was going to pay a visit to the cemetary where she is buried.

Took a walk up to the cemetary as not far from where I was staying

I had a bout a 15 minute visit, I told her I COMPLETELY FORGAVE her for everything and loved her REGARDLESS.

Here's the kicker, walking back to the b&b where I was staying, I was outside decompressing from the visit. All of a sudden, ONE DROP OF WATER landed on the back of my neck. A COMPLETELY CLEAR BLUE SKY and no where near the lake shore as my b&b was on the lake.

Later that afternoon standing outside again, ONE drop of water on the palm of my left hand.

Something I won't soon forget and just wanted to share this with you
August 15, 2014
Latest Entry: Entry Title
Circle of Trees


This is a story not like any other., or maybe it is. Childhood abuse is prevalent in this county, and yet no one wants to either admit it, nor talk about it. Unfortunately, it's true. It's the story of my life as it is. Not pretty, not romantic, but true nonetheless. I originally wanted to call it "The circle of trees", as they had torn down the house, and all that was left, were the trees that encircled the house, Soon though , they took down the trees as well, and made the whole thing into a parking lot. Nothing left but asphalt, a parking lot, where once unspeakable things had happened. Nothing. It didn't seem fitting. It didn't seem fair. It seemed to silence, what was already silent.
I guess I better start at the beginning.
I was born in August 26th 1961, in Phoenix Arizona. My Mother and Father already had a son. The golden child. His name was Marc. He was basically two years older than I. My Mother often said in a sort of joking matter, that they had to watch him like a hawk, as he was always trying to harm me. He's try to either smother me, or knock me out of my bassinet. Thus was the beginning of our tumultuous relationship. Marc was the first born. The golden child. I was the interloper. The only girl. My parents eventually separated, and got together briefly, and that's how my younger brother came about. His name is Chris.
Chris and I were like two peas in a pod. We were very close We always knew what each other were thinking. Because he grew so fast, often people thought that we were twins, and in a way we were. We would finish each other's sentences. We played together all of the time. I would dress him up like a girl sometimes, and call him "Christina". Of course. He didn't much care for that.
My older brother Marc, quite frankly didn't like either of us. I think he felt it was us against him, and in a lot of ways, it was.
There were no other girls in the neighborhood to play with, so I grew up mostly around boys. The neighborhood boys, my brothers, and I would play together. The only girl I was really close to was my cousin Diane. We grew up like sisters. I loved her dearly.
There was so many dark secrets within our small family. Even Chris and I told ourselves many lies, that we were happy, and carefree, when just the opposite was true. You tell yourself what you need to her to survive I guess.


I was always good at compartmentalizing things. I survived this, and so, that I didn't need to brood or think about it....I'd put it in a box....seal it up, and store it away in my brain, so that I didn't have to deal with it, or feel it. I was actually quite good at it. Not so good at it anymore. No matter what you do with the bad stuff that happens to you, there is always, what I call "leakage".
It comes out in different ways, sometimes inappropriately at times., leaving you to wonder "Where the hell did that come from?"


I have come to find out that children that are abused handle things in different ways. Some run away, like my younger brother did. Some let it eat your soul, like I did...taking it out on myself in horrible ways.
I didn't even deal with any of it until I was going through my divorce, and I sought counseling just to get through it.


Everything in counseling with my new counselor Pam came pouring out like a festering wound, or a boil that ruptured,.
The wound was so deep, it was like a hole in my soul, that never ended. We rarely even talked about the divorce. The divorce was secondary to the endless void in my soul. My counselor, Pam, became like my Mother figure, who actually believed me when I told her what happened. My own Mother either didn't want to hear it, nor did she believe it.


For awhile I was very angry with my Mother for not believing me, even though my own Grandmother, asked my Mother, if she didn't' see the bruises on me. That wasn't even the bad part. Psychical abuse I could take. I was used to standing between my older and younger brother and taking the beatings for him. It was the constant emotional, sexual, and threat of bodily harm on a daily basis that I dreaded.


The sexual abuse wasn't always at Marc's hands either. He had "friends". I remember when my Mother could not get babysitters anymore because they were just too afraid of my older brother, who smashed holes in walls, smashed mirrors, and was always high. Her solution was to leave us alone, until she got home from work.


That was always the dreaded time for us.
I remember once, I got home early....before Chris. Marc was high. He had me on my hands and knees, with a gun pointed to my head, saying how much he hated me, and wanted to kill me. He wanted to hear me beg for my life. I honestly don't remember how I got away, but a friend of mine came and got me, but I knew I had to get home, because Chris was coming home, and I had to protect him.


Once, I came home before Chris, and my older Brother Marc, "sold" me for drugs to one of his friends. I only remember making it to the backdoor...the rest is a complete blank, locked deep in my subconscious, where I hope it stays.


Most times, I kept putting things away in tiny boxes in my head, so I wouldn't have to deal with them.
The bad part was, I couldn't even get away from things at school either. Bullies followed me wherever I went. The same kids tortured me all through grade school, and mostly through High School, until I got with my soon to be husband.


I went swimming once with my cousin, and they tried to drown me in the public swimming pool. I was skinny, and I guess I just looked like a victim. My Mother said to me that teachers were always telling her that I was crying at school. I remember blacking out frequently, and having no idea, when I came to what in the hell they were talking about. Amazingly, I made pretty good grades.


I had small group of friends I hung around with....mainly misfits like me. We had fun together. It was a welcome diversion from home...and yet I was always worried, that Chris would be alone with Marc.
It was always Chris and I against Marc, and I knew he knew that. That made it even worse.


Marc would blackmail me, that if Chris did something wrong, he would tell, if I didn't do what he wanted me to do.
I knew where Marc stashed his drugs. He showed it to us, and threatened us if we ever told.


The police came to the house frequently, usually looking for Marc.


Not even locked in the bathroom was safe. We had an old hook and eye lock on the bathroom door. Every time I would try and go to the bathroom, Marc would open it as much as possible to see as much as he could see. If I was trying to have a BM, he would go downstairs, and listen through the vent, and make comments, so that I could hear him. I held my stool, as long as I could, at times for 1 month at a time.. My Mother thought I had bad constipation. I just couldn't go with Marc around.


We had birds as pets. Several finches, and a canary. They were in the boys room. One morning we woke up to find them all with their necks snapped. Nothing escaped Marc. Whatever Marc wanted...he got, one way or another. He used to say in a sing song voice...."Holly is a friend of mine, she will blow me anytime....for a nickel or a dime...50 cents for overtime...if I have a union pass, she will even lick my ass."


The constant day to day torture was too much for me. I left home at age 17, and went off to Nurses School. I can't even tell you the freedom, and relief I felt. Marc had finally left the house...he went after my Mom with a baseball bat, and she finally kicked him out.


Too bad, it came too late for me. The damage was done.
I was fragmented, and broken. I just didn't know how broken, until I fell apart, during my divorce.


I fell into at least13 pieces. Thank God, my counselor was there to help me put the pieces back together again.
I really don't think she knew what she had signed up for when she got me as a client. We talked very little about the divorce itself, but more about my childhood and the abuse I suffered. More than once, she held me like a baby, as I cried the tears I couldn't as I grew up.


It would seem that the boxes, I had stored things in...in my head, were leaking all over the place. Parts of me seem to be coming out of the woodwork.
Oddly enough, the parts, had names, and personalities all by themselves. There were parts, that were small. There were parts that wanted to harm other parts. It would seem as if I had a small town living inside my head. I would have periods of time, that were totally blank to me. I remember once being very angry.


I was driving, and ended up in Missouri with no idea how I got there or how to get home. I was a mess. At times, I would feel like a very small child, and would hide in the closet, crying for my Mommy, knowing no one would come.


I remember once my older brother locking me in the closet at my neighbor's house. I was very frightened, and I knew no one would come and rescue me....I had to have only been abut 3 or 4.


Where did all of the grown-ups go?


My counselor Pam, gave each insider a voice, and counseled each of them. Even the angry ones. I remember cutting on myself, just to relieve the pain of the abuse. At times, I felt like I deserved it. Other times, the memories were so traumatic, I just wanted to feel something else. At times, I was so angry with myself, I just wanted to inflict pain. There were many reasons why I did that. I don't do it anymore. I've learned better ways to cope with my pain. I don't feel the need to hurt myself further, even though, at times I still think about it.


I had one part (insider) who didn't want another part to eat. It was punishment for being a girl. I got down to 103 lbs.....I'm 5'9". There were many ways that certain parts of myself would hurt the other parts.


Pam taught us to sit at a table together. We all had to hash things out and agree to do or not to do things. It was a very good strategy. It didn't always work, but it helped. Many times, parts acted independently of each other, and that always ended up badly. I know the man I was seeing at the time, thought I was looney tunes, and I felt that way too.


I guess at that point I was. It took 6 years of therapy, but we pretty much came together to act as one for the most part. There are still things locked in my head, and eventually I will have to deal with them, but for now. I am whole.


My marriage was much the same as my growing up years. Isn't it odd how that turns out? I guess we stick with what we know. Unfortunate as it is.


During my divorce, my Ex called upon my older brother as a witness against me. We were all shocked. He did however give me the closest, that I will ever come to an apology from him. It was unexpected. He told me that he was drunk and high most of his years when the worst abuse happened. He said he doesn't really remember it, but that he knew he did some very awful things to myself and my younger brother. He said he was sorry. That in and of itself was more than I could ever have expected.


I have forgiven him, as I have my Mother for not protecting me. Forgiveness to me, is letting go of that anchor that weighs me down. It's not that I have forgotten...it's that I have let go of the hatred and anger.


I had some really good years with my Mom before she passed. Having my own child, made me understand how hard it would have been to choose between your own children.


My younger brother, who could not forget or forgive didn't have that, and for him I'm sorry. I choose to live and let live. Even my older brother and I have a civil relationship, and I help him if he needs it. We don't keep in touch much, but that's OK too.



Each person heals as they heal. No two are the same. Some never heal. I choose healing and life.


Holly
August 13, 2014
Latest Entry: Inner Life Skills
I think a huge piece of the puzzle that's missing in our society (particularly in the U.S.) is possessing inner life skills.  The skills that make the rest of the things we try,and do, better.  I think of the things my own parents and grandparents endured -- without the aid of counseling or pills -- and saw how much better they coped.  I am not trivializing illness or trauma.  I'm talking more about the self-worth issues people suffer with and how this does lead to inertia, health problems, etc.   "Easy Life Skills You Never Learned in School" is an easy read book with techniques, along with guided meditation CD's (MP3's).  You can get it on Amazon or to learn more, visit www.optimindshaping.com.  I wish this was offered as a curriculum in school.
August 13, 2014
Latest Entry: myself.
This first blog I will just tell a little about my life. I am 25 years old I will celebrate my 6 year wedding anniversary to a man I have been with since I was 17, I have two children both boys ages 6 and 3. I am a licensed nurses aide and my husband is a partly retired soldier.  In a quick glance  everything about my life is normal. Here is the truth.


The first time I contiplated suicide I was 12 years old, I crushed a whole bottle of Tylenol and wanted to take all of it, but didn't have the guts. At this age I started drinking and smoking pot and cutting.  When I was thirteen I was going to school with vodka in my water bottle and was suspended for having a 5th of vodka in my locker and was sent to "kids aa" my first actual attempt at suicide and first hospitalization was at 14, I was then diagnosed with bi-polar polar, borderline personality disorder and ptsd. At age 15 I lost a baby, and it broke me completely.  By the time I was 16 I had tried to kill myself at least 6 times and by the time I was 21 I had been hospitalized 5 times. I struggle to keep my feet on the ground everyday, I struggle not to cut, not to try to kill myself everyday. My marriage is unhealthy,  my life is unstable. I have had a fairs with both men and women. In 2011 I was arrested by military police for fighting with my husband. But later charges were dropped.  I use to have every emotion possible all at once and now I just feel empty and numb most of the time I look at my husband and feel resentment I look at my children and feel guilt and frustration because I was not able to carry my first child , I have not taken medication or seen a professional in a couple years. I hate my life I hate myself I don't even recognize myself in a mirror. I just want to give up. But feel that my children wouldn't be ok without me I don't think my husband is capable of raising my children. Sometimes I just want to say f*** it and end it I ache for it so bad sometime I have to rub my wrist together bc I can literally feel them being sliced open and blood flowing out I want it so bad the only way to get rid of the urge is to rub them together or bite them.


This is a inner struggle I have everyday. Every day I wake up this is how I feel. I don't know who I am anymore. 


" No one can save , how could they in order to do so u would first have to understand me and how can someone understand me if I cant even explain to them who it is I am, I am alone on the battlefield of my war against myself with nothing to comfort me ...not even me."


This is just a bit about my life everyday. Am I alone in my struggle, is anyone else  dealing with this to, or am I just being punished for whatever reason.
August 11, 2014
Latest Entry: Help Noah
Today I wrote the show and ask for help ,let's see what happens. 9/11/14.
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