Emma's Air Force of One, Aiming High

One disabled veteran, seeking a better life through improvements in general health, dialing back on the stress, and roadtripping with my camera.

[emmaglitch]

One Woman's Rape

One Woman's Rape

Rape is when your father commits suicide and it's not even the worst thing that happens that week.

Rape is when your roommate's boyfriend leaves your room with your skin and your blood under his fingernails and calls it comforting you for your loss.

Rape is when your roommate stops you from calling the police because her boyfriend's father will have you charged with prostitution.

Rape is when the gyn gives you one course of gentian violet and when you come back still in pain refuses to do a second pelvic because you are "too young to have vaginitis" and you are too young to know what vaginitis is.

Rape is when the doctor tells your mom to lock you up in the psych ward because everybody knows you can't be raped because your father just committed suicide.

Rape is when the shrink crams you so full of thorazine that he tells your mom that it's a good thing she got you in because now you're getting worse.

Rape is when he crammed you so full of thorazine that he thinks you're comatose when actually you're entombed in your body, seeing, hearing, unable to speak.

Rape is when you get let out on an overnight pass and your mom lets your friends take you to a party and they sit there laughing while a college buddy molests you and they think they're safe.

Rape is when you find out that you are so damaged inside you'll never go full term with a pregnancy, but they don't tell you you can still get pregnant.

Rape is when you refuse the first abortion but the doctor refuses to let you die.

Rape is when you realize that if you hadn't fled your home state you would have been left to die of that pregnancy.

Rape is when you refuse the second abortion unless they tie your tubes so you never have to go through the evaluation ever again.

Rape is when you watch your mother-in-law destroy your husband with her anger over your perceived willful refusal to give her grandchildren.

Rape is settling for a man who didn't want children, but wouldn't tell his mother so.

Rape is when you spend the rest of your life horrified at the thoughts of vengeance that flood your brain.

Rape is when you begin to feel a desire to carry them out.

Rape is when your mom cries for her part in your wrongful psych treatment.

Rape is when you forgive her over and over and over but she wants you to lie and say it never happened.

Rape is when she kicks you out of her life because she needs to believe rape never touched her life.

Rape is when you let her because your need to be believed is greater than your need to be loved.

Rape is when she talks to you again as you're recovering from cancer.

Rape is when you see her again as she's dying from hers.

Rape is the theft of your mother's love.

Rape is the fear of the locked ward.

Rape is theft of person, theft of health, theft of sanity, theft of love, caring, ability to trust.

Rape is all this and a whole lot tragic more.

This is my rape. Your rape may vary.

Emma Glitch, 6-15-2014

[maggie-stiefvater-deactivated20]

Novelist error messages.

[emmaglitch]

My Veterans Day Wishes

I wish that every veteran who needs a job gets a job. Here I am, tutor, test prep coach, helper of learning disabled people needing to find their unique way to learn and ESL students to improve their English skills, but, yeah, I also get weepy. Is that really a good reason to bench me?

I wish that all VA hospital check in clerks would ask, “Your name, ma'am,” and not “Your sponsor's name?” Fewer do that now, but it still rankles, now that I finally asked one why she did it. Because she doesn't want to risk insulting the veterans' wives, she told me.

I wish that no disabled veteran ever again has to hear the words, you need to make sacrifices. We already made sacrifices. Hands off our comp&pen!

I wish that every veteran has a roof over his or her head, a safe place to let the memories, good and bad, run wild, a healing place so the memories don't take over the rest of our lives.

I wish that every one of us who faces thoughts of ending it finds a reason to live.

Happy Veterans Day, and thanks for all you’ve done. November 11, 2013

reblogged from http://emmaglitch.com/veterans/

[emmaglitch]

My Reason to Live

Lately I've been hearing about the rise in military and veteran suicides, and not much about what should be done about it. Some seem to think that saying the magic word “suicide” three times should get you locked away and medicated. I don't like that one. Some want the VA to provide more mental health care. I'm all for that, but there's a lot the VA needs to do, and not enough funding for it. So I'm looking at the vast middle ground. What can I do?

As a veteran who copes with suicidal thoughts every day, battles suicidal urges occasionally, but who never ever wants to do the deed, I am stepping up. I'm not doing much, just what I can in a blog, and I'm doing it after long consultation with my BHOST provider, who approves but wants to keep me safe too.

Most of the content will not be directly related to mental health issues, but will be things I do to stay healthy, hence the title Reason to Live. What is directly related will be peppered with disclaimers, because I will not be advising or counseling, but providing links and sharing my experience and coping strategies. I'm considering a forum, but will have to think hard about how to handle trolling with such a sensitive subject.

I have my website, I'm seeing my web designer later today, and I have content ready to post, so I hope to have it up and running by the weekend. The title is Emma Glitch's Reason to Live, the tagline “because every disabled veteran deserves a fighting chance to live a good life.”

Veterans, military members, others fighting suicidal thoughts and urges, and those who care about us are welcome.

[emmaglitch]

Baxter on patrol

Wednesday, June 12, 2013

Here in Geezerville, we know all the dogs' names, maybe remember some of the people's.  True dog lovers get that.  Nobody's offended. 

Most mornings I join my neighbor Jim and my little poodle buddy Leo for a walk, because Leo let me know soon after they moved here that it was expected of me, and I had to walk them to their door.  Nothing like the unconditional love of a dog, is there? 

This morning Jim and Leo caught up later, and I was walking with Christina and Baxter, a Yorkie who takes point and leads the way.  He's our scout, alerting us to coyotes and other dangers.  Two of our residents in another part of our particular Geezerville were bitten by coyotes a while back, and we've had sightings this week. 

This morning we had an uneventful walk in the beautiful desert morning.  Good job, Baxter! 

[emmaglitch]

I see your WomenDon'tCount and I raise you a DisabledVeteran

I was standing in line at the Time Warner store, I had a few questions about my services, didn't want to bother with calling their formerly good customer service.  It was a hot day, it was cool inside, I was in no hurry, which is a good thing, because there were eight people in line ahead of me, all turning in equipment. 

Only two guys were there to help customers.  Nobody in line ahead of me seemed at all bothered by the fact that one of those guys hit a snag and had to give one customer extended help.  The other guy processed us through at a pretty brisk rate, and we were fine.  So when it was my turn, I let the guy know I only had a few questions, I asked them, he answered them, he pointed out something I hadn't thought of, I thanked him, we were just about done when...

Some Big Dumb Jerk about sixth or seventh in line bellowed something along the lines of, Is that all you're doing?  Chatting?  My guy responded, Sir, I'm helping my customer.  The other guy also responded, pretty much the same, but I noticed that Big Dumb Jerk wasn't looking at the other guy, he was looking at my guy. 

When Big Dumb Jerk saw me staring, he stared back.  That's when I realized that everybody in line ahead of me had been male, and the customer getting the extra help was male too.  So I guessed that I was supposed to apologize for being an elderly woman taking up space in Big Dumb Jerk's Manly Men's World, finish my business, and scuttle out. 

What I did was play my disabled veterans card.  I assumed my Command Voice, acquired to march troops back in the day, fixed my eye upon him, and said, this young man is assisting a disabled veteran.  Problem? 

Nope, no problem.  I finished up, thanked my guy for his help, turned back to leave, and saw a few women of about my age in line behind Big Dumb Jerk.  No doubt that when Big Dumb Jerk relates his version, he'll express his disgust at the way we cackled, but I'll say we laughed and enjoyed the moment. 

[emmaglitch]

RIP Maisie the Amazing Spider Doggy

I was out taking my walk this morning, and saw my neighbor Marge crying.  I knew what that meant: Maisie, her sweet little Maltese mix, was gone.  I joined her and another neighbor, Jim, and his little poodle, Leo, and I cried too. 

Maisie was my first doggy buddy when I moved here, and what a sweet girl she was.  Back in the days that I could hardly make it down to the end of my driveway, I used to watch her walking with Marge, tail wagging her whole body, so joyful she was.  As I grew stronger and could walk farther, Maisie would see me and not so much bark as croon until I came over to her gate to visit with her. 

About two years ago, she grew too arthritic to enjoy her walks, and would stand by the gate, waiting for me and her other neighbor friends to notice her and come over.  If Leo spotted her, he would pull on his leash till Jim followed.  Just the other day, he headed for her gate without even seeing her, but she was too unwell to come out, so we all knew it was time. 

Marge has loved and lost more than a few dogs in her life, but losing Maisie has torn her up worse than any other.  Maisie was a rescue dog, tiny, terrified and close to death when the rescue workers named her Maisie, because it was amazing she lived. 

So when I took the picture I hope I post here (haven't learned how to do much on my page yet) last Halloween of Maisie in her purple spider web bandana, friends at a message board named her Maisie the Amazing Spider Doggy.  And that's when Marge, astonished at the name, told me the story of how Maisie came into her life, and why she was named Maisie. 

Rest in Peace, sweet girl, and we will miss you.

[emmaglitch]

Veteran Status is Not a Matter of Opinion

1974, Air Force basic training, TI tells us not to expect VA healthcare.  She does not use her TI voice.  She uses her Not Happy Woman voice.  1992, Congress passes the public law that stops VA hospitals from turning us away.  1994, I find out.  I also find out about WIMSA, Women In Military Service for America, and become a charter member. 

That Memorial Day weekend, I head to the Orange County Fairgrounds for the Highland Gathering, as was my custom.  At the drumhead service, the minister asks all veterans to rise to be honored, so I stand up, and some much older woman turns to me and rasps, "Siddown, honey, this is for the REAL veterans." 

I did not sit down so much as fall back onto my seat in shock, but resolved that day that I would never let any other person tell me that I was anything less than a REAL veteran.  And that prepared me for the next ten years, once I enrolled in the VA healthcare system that summer. 

Yeah, it took a good ten years to get the less friendly to women patients portion of the VAMC staff to get used to us (or retire), and there remain a few holdouts, but most of the care I receive now I would rate pretty darn good to excellent.  The pt that strenthened my ankles and the ptsd care that strenthened my willingness to be around a lot of people all at once has made me stronger, so last week I decided it was time to try the Highland Gathering, now called ScotsFest, again. 

This time, women were well represented among the veterans, and we were honored, brothers and sisters alike, in a ceremony that brought happy tears to my eyes, and a whole lot of smiles and handshakes from my fellow veterans.

Welcome Home!

[emmaglitch]

ROBOTS OR DINOSAURS?

I think I must be a dinosaur, because I can't figure out how to post in my own account.   :P