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ARE YOU SHY? INSECURE? DONT BELIEVE IN LOVE CAUSED BY A BAD BREAKUP?
MILLIONS OF PEOPLE ARE AFRAID OF MEETING NEW PEOPLE DUE TO LACK OF COMMUNICATION, SELF APPEREANCE, AND FEAR.
DONT LET THAT STOP YOU. DISCOVER THE SECRETS BEHIND REAL LOVE. THIS WILL GIVE YOU MORE CONFIDENCE IN YOURSELF AND WILL CHANGE YOUR LIFE FOREVER!!
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Shards of ice on the beach at Lake Clark as spring creeps in at the end of winter
Credit: NPS /D. Young. 2015
Ok so it all started when I was born - literally. My parents were young when they had me, just 19 years old. My grandparents got guardianship of my brother and I when I was about three years old. My family has a history of mental illness on both sides, so I was "doomed" naturally. Schizophrenia, bipolar, manic depression, all disorders someone in my family was diagnosed with. My maternal grandmother is manic depressive, and things were very difficult growing up because it wasn't addressed. She didn't believe in therapy and thought that nothing was wrong. Therapy was only for "messed up" people, and she had an extreme stigma about it. There are so many instances of verbal and emotional abuse towards my grandfather, my brother, my mother, and myself. But if you spoke up, it was even worse, you wouldn't dare speak up against it. It was always better to endure it and hope the next day would be better. She was, and still can be, very unpredictable. You'd think everything was dandy, until it wasn't. Things could switch in a moment into a screaming, "you-don't-care-about-me-how-come-no-one-cares-for-me" mess. I never wanted someone to ever go through that, or to feel like they couldn't speak up. I was often the one to speak up, so my grandmother and I would fight often. Hence, the anxiety, people-pleasing, wanting to always keep the peace mindset that I have as an adult. She's always needed help for her mental health, but you can't make someone do something they don't want. If they won't address what's hurting, things can't progress.
My grandfather, my grandmother, my brother, and I tried going to group therapy once. It didn't go well, and was entirely unproductive in creating any change. The time was spent with my grandmother asking why she was always the bad guy and how no one ever talked about how they hurt her, and essentially made for a bad time for awhile at home. I did go to counseling in school for awhile, but it was in a group setting so it wasn't as exclusive as going to one-on-one therapy. As a teenager, I did got to therapy for a little bit, but I stopped going because my therapists kept leaving for other practices. And I felt like I was "fine". Plus, what good does it do when you live somewhere that's always stressful and you feel like you can't really talk about your feelings anyways? I didn't want that for my life, ever. I knew that I wanted to be different. I was always sad as a kid that I didn't live with my parents. I never had an answer when people asked me why I didn't live with them, honestly I still am not sure completely why I didn't and I'll be 29 this year .
My mother ended up having a drug addiction problem when I was in sixth grade. My mother is also bipolar, although I don't know exactly when this was discovered. My grandmother hated my dad, for whatever reason. So I just had no pull in my desire to want to live with a parent. My mother had always been around, and she lived with us and my grandparents at times. I saw my dad on the weekends and holidays. In the beginning of her addiction, my grandparents got emergency custody of my brother Jacob. So now they were raising three kids. When my mother made the decision to get clean from heroin, I was about 11 (I think, not sure of my exact age). I loved her so much, and I'll always remember driving down the road with her one day as she was crying and saying "I love you, you know I do, right?" I was the one sitting with her in the bathroom while she went through withdrawal. It was hard to see my mother so sick. I stayed by her side and slept in the same room as her at night because I was so happy she was back home. I also went to NA and AA meetings with her. I liked the cookies and snacks they'd have. I really had no business being around so much adult information at my age, but as I see it I was the support in my mother's recovery, because everyone else was just mad at her. Naturally, it makes sense that as an adult my mother uses me as support often. She's better now and has been clean for over 10 years.
Eventually, I did get the chance to live with my father and my step-mom the summer before seventh grade. For whatever reason, my grandmother had a moment and agreed to let me live with them. I was ecstatic! I remember hopping onto the computer and instant messaging my step-mom on AIM. I lived with them from the beginning of seventh grade to halfway through my freshman year of high school. Living there was such a change from what I was used to; more routine and structure, more "normalcy". I moved back in with my grandparents halfway through my freshman year of high school. Around that time is when my father was really starting to struggle with his mental health (that I know of). There was one night I remember he got so angry that my step-mom and I went in the basement with our dog. He'd torn off the keyboard holder from the computer desk, ripped the sliding door off the track, and threw the board into the pool. He wasn't going to hurt us and I think we knew that, but he was just SO aggressively upset. I remember he left and that night I woke up to the sound of him crying in the bathroom pleading to God. He got diagnosed bipolar around that time. I didn't leave because he was struggling, but because I felt like me being there was too stressful and I missed being with my grandparents. Things were still the same when I moved back in, it's like I never left. I think part of me is always going to feel guilty for leaving my brothers there, even though getting out made such a change in me.
I met a junior boy, C is what we will call him, when I moved back. He was my second boyfriend. I'd only dated one person when I lived in Leominster, and it wasn't for long. I didn't really know much about dating, or sex, or how any of it worked really. I feel like I just figured out a lot of it on my own, leading to many poor decisions. Part of the issue is that my grandmother believed that any talk of sex, birth control, or even asking to be on birth control would automatically lead to pregnancy. And most of what I saw growing up was not-so-healthy relationships. C broke up with me shortly after I made the decision to have sex with him, through a note, passing me in the hallway to lunch. One of my first poor decisions, and it got worse because my grandmother found out about it and threatened to bring him to court for statutory rape. For whatever reason I thought that having sex with someone meant love. I don't know where I came up with that, but it was what I thought mattered. And I also couldn't stand to be alone, I somehow put all my worth in being with someone else.
A few boyfriends later, I met P at a little music release basement party for a mutual friend. We were a hit instantly, and I completely ignored all of my friends when they told me the next morning to not get involved with him. Another poor decision. We became boyfriend and girlfriend. I was with him for 3 years almost. We smoked a lot of pot, he skipped a lot of college, he would call out of work to stay with me. My grandmother would call me out sick from school so I could spend a week with him at his dorm in Boston. He practically lived at my grandparent's house with me at one point. It was very toxic. We were very clingy to one another and I had no freedom. I couldn't even really hang out with my friends if he wasn't there too. He didn't like when I colored my hair without asking. One time, I dyed it black without asking and he screamed at me for a good hour through the phone. My friend that was with me had to answer the phone at one point and tell him to stop calling. All my worth and who I was was determined by him. I wanted to stretch my ears but didn't because he got upset and told me that I only wanted to do that so I could fuck his friends. He was extremely emotionally and verbally abusive, narcissistic if you will. And he needed help with mental health, yet another non-believer of therapy in my life, and meds would just make you a zombie so forget that.
When I got to college, P had failed out of New England Institute of Art and ended up at The Mount with me. This was problematic. We had a lot of the same classes and friends. I ended up getting very close to another guy, A, who showed interest in me being who I wanted. I remember being told by A that I was being treated like property. I wasn't happy with P anymore, but I didn't know how to leave. I ended up cheating, which is absolutely against my morals. P found out because A was angry I wouldn't leave P and told him everything. It was a nasty breakup and there was a lot of fighting. We had all the same friends and so there was some division and tension. I failed out of college because I skipped classes so I wouldn't have to see him. But even after the breakup, P found a way to always be involved in my business.
While I was dating P, I stopped talking to my father for about a year. My father was trying to look out for me in a particular circumstance and went to P's house on his lunch one day to talk with him. I was a dumb teenager so I chose my boyfriend over my father. During that year my father tried to commit suicide. I only found out because of someone anonymous on the internet. My father did not succeed and is much better these days.
After P, I had a lot of small relationships. I was trying to find myself and who I wanted to be. I stretched my ears. I went to a lot of shows, and I did get to live with my mother by the way, when I turned 18. Things were hard and she didn't exactly like who I was. A lot of criticism for my boyfriends, who I dated, who my friends were. Because I was already an adult, her trying to parent me didn't exactly mesh. I smoked a pack of cigarettes a day. I was very stressed all the time. I lost my best friend after P, but I also was so caught up in myself I didn't see how awful of a friend I was. She even ended up dating P for a few years, and that was very hard for me. I never took accountability. I was an anxious mess, that couldn't just be by herself. A lot of my relationships felt like I was a "light" for the other person who was looking to fill a void or get over someone else. And even knowing that so many times, I'd just stay sometimes because I was "needed".
Eventually, I would meet my now husband Joe a year (roughly) after P. Joe and I were best friends first. We knew each other first, and hung out as friends first. He would drive from Dracut to Athol almost every day, that's like 2 hours just to get to me, then 2 hours home. We would sit in my room and watch Friend Zone on MTV (how fitting, right?) One day we found ourselves just casually holding hands. This was new for me. I didn't see it coming. Our relationship crept up and blossomed instead of my usual just jumping into a relationship. Joe was the only one to ever stand up to P and tell him he didn't have a place in my life anymore. The only person where I never doubted if I was just filling a void from someone else. Joe cared about my interests and what I enjoyed, and has continued to throughout our 9 year relationship. He showed me what being valued as myself was like. This is love. And I am grateful, because he gives me space to figure out who I am and change if I feel like it.
The lesson from this is that I finally learned that I was enough as me. I didn't have to try to be anyone's ex, I didn't have to try to be anyone but myself. I learned that I had value as a person, and that I could be who I wanted, because I WANTED to be that person. I could be a light in someone's life, without putting out my own light. I learned that my body was not the only thing someone should want in a relationship, and that sex does not mean love. And most importantly, I learned that I didn't need to fill a void in someone, or try to have someone to fill a void in myself. Things don't work that way. You cannot fix a person, you can only be there for them. As far as mental health goes, my intention was always to break the cycle and take care of myself. I knew it from very early in my life. I mentioned that I stopped going to therapy for awhile. Two years ago I did start going to counseling again. After having our second child, I realized that I was really struggling and things were getting hard, I felt like I was falling apart inside. I couldn't cope strictly by myself. Last year I was diagnosed as bipolar 2. My counselor knew a bit sooner than when he told me, but I respect his reasoning. When he diagnosed me, he said that he did not tell me right away when he knew, because he knew that I would have been devastated, since he knew I did not want to be like my family. But I am not like my family. I love my family, and they are not bad people, they just needed help. I am the change in the cycle. I wanted better and I am creating better. I want my children to know stability and that mental health is as important as physical health. I am still working at being better every day, I will always have to, that's okay. I am open, I am accepting of myself, I know healing isn't linear. In healing, I have learned forgiveness.
There's still enough ice to hold them if the dogs tread carefully but big patches of open water, too.
After knocking over a glass table and breaking it, I decided it might be useful for a photo someday, so I kept most of the big pieces (but stupidly, only two of the three legs). I thought of a rough concept pretty soon after that, but as I tend to do every now and then, chose to put it aside just for a short, little while...
So... after about six months of having heavy, jagged shards of broken glass sitting around my apartment (and a couple of incidents requiring bandages), I finally did something with them. In the time that had past I'd also broken three drinking glasses and, naturally, saved them as well (Yes, actually I AM a klutz). So here is the result:
It took a while to arrange a time with Stacia (the model), and twice we had it scheduled but plans fell through (once because of a friend's pregnancy). When the schedule was finally worked out, I had to move several pieces of furniture out into my hallway to get the setting I wanted, as the room is small (a LOT smaller than in looks). Unfortunately the hallway isn't exactly giant, and the furniture basically barricaded the front door, trapping Stacia inside my apartment with me, surrounded by sharp slabs of glass and a hammer. Of course, she had brought her own gun to our previous photoshoot, so I suspect she wasn't too worried:)
The lighting set-up included one monobloc in a softbox high and about 45 degrees camera-right, pointing down at her face. I had another monobloc in a softbox right next to me camera-left a bit lower, bouncing light off the wall (both for fill light on Stacia and to try and get some depth in the objects on the floor). I put two speedlites in the window (one clamped to the handle) with CTO gels, using the curtain as a partial diffuser, to get the shadow pattern on the wall and ceiling. I also had on-axis fill coming from a speedlight stuck in an Orbis ring flash. The flashes were all triggered with Radiopoppers.
I did a lot of post-work to get the look of this shot the way I wanted (surreal), which, on its own, is already quite an involved, time-consuming process, involving two or more RAW file conversions, and lots of contrast masking with filters. There's no automatic action for this, as far as I know.
You've got to get the lighting right first, of course. No amount of editing can make good light when it wasn't already in the original photo; and anyone who thinks it's easy to just photoshop something any way you want and have it look good, please pass on your secrets to me:)
Since I had only kept two of the (table) legs, I used a tripod and moved them around in a couple of different frames and merge them together later to make it look like there were four. Unfortunately, I didn't realize during the shoot (but should've suspected) that I was repeatedly nudging the lens with the ring flash, which slightly shifted each frame. Not really enough to see it on the camera's LCD, but definitely enough to make merging the separate layers a gigantic pain in the... well, you know. Particularly since the six-year-old computer I was using at the time was so terminally ill that it sometimes took 10-15 minutes JUST TO SAVE A FILE. Grrrrr...
At least I can finally throw out those glass shards. Well, wait... hold on. Hmmm... maybe there's another photo concept that I can use them for... I think I'll just hold off throwing them out for a short little while...
P.S. I realize that technically there should be little pieces of glass all over the floor as well, but even I have my limits. Particularly since I'm already running low on glasses...
To view larger sizes, find out more about this photo, and see more of my work, please go to: www.robcorpuz.com
Thanks!
किसी के साथ रिलेशनशिप में होना एक सुखद अनुभूति का एहसास कराता है लेकिन जब यही रिश्ता टूटता है तो काफी तकलीफ भी होती है. अगर आप भी किसी ऐसी ही परिस्थिति से जूझ रहे हैं तो निश्चित रूप से यह समय आपके लिए तकलीफदेह है.
किसी के साथ प्यार भरे रिश्ते में रहने के बाद अचानक से जब यह टूटता है तो ऐसा लगता है...
#After, #Breakup, #Learn, #Men, #Things
"Although all cat games have their rules and rituals, these vary with the individual player. The cat, of course, never breaks a rule. If it does not follow precedent, that simply means it has created a new rule and it is up to you to learn it quickly if you want the game to continue." ~Sidney Denham
"Way down deep, we're all motivated by the same urges. Cats have the courage to live by them." ~Jim Davis
An undetermined species of creature dwelling in the water column is observed breaking apart at a depth of 2000 m, 15 June 2012.
Observation : 7380, 2012-06-15 02:15:42UTC, dive 1564.
N47°55.9872′, W129°6.4894′
Credit: NEPTUNE Canada/CSSF
Saw this rolled up on the driveway next door. Since no one actually lives there my dad went over to pick it up. He thought it was just some trash that was blown in from somewhere. Heh instead its a break-up letter that looks like a 10 year old wrote it.
Steve, whoever you are, be a man a break-up face to face.
The crossed out "love" is such a nice touch.
Breakup describes the feeling when of suddenly being left after a longtime relationship (such as marriage) without being given any explanation or the opportunity to make things right. It is the ultimate state of helplessness, deprived of any power to change this one-sided decision.
The Breakup Song (They Don’t Write ‘Em) b/w When The Music Starts
Greg Kihn Band, Beserkley Records/USA (1981)
We stood there for 1/2 an hour, and we could watch Ship Creek break up, as well as hear it. There would be a loud crack, and we could see fissures develop, and chunks of ice break off and float down Ship Creek.
Can you imagine, if such a little river such as Ship Creek were like this, what it must be like on the Yukon or the Kuskokwim?
The loss of Francis Gary Powers’ U-2A on 1 May 1960 underscored the fact that the U-2 was not as invulnerable to interception as originally hoped. If altitude was no longer a defense against Soviet air defenses, speed would be. Clarence “Kelly” Johnson, who had designed the U-2, was put to work with his legendary “Skunk Works” section of Lockheed to develop a very high-speed reconnaissance aircraft to supplement the U-2, named first the A-12—like the U-2’s use of the innocuous “utility” designation, the A-12 would use the outdated “attack” designation, though it carried no weapons. This designation was later changed as the design evolved, to the RS-71; this in turn was reversed to SR-71 by General Curtis LeMay, for strategic reconnaissance.
Work on the A-12/SR-71 was done in the strictest secrecy, although its existence was revealed in 1964 by President Lyndon Johnson. Virtually everything about the aircraft had to be invented on the spot, and even the tools used in its production had to be specially built first. The SR-71 was built of mostly light titanium, and design specifications were such that normal tools would damage the airframe. Emphasis was made on stealth and especially high speed: the SR-71’s intended normal operating speed was in excess of Mach 3, which at that time had only been achieved with the rocket-powered X-15. To reach this speed, the aircraft would use J58 ramjets: once at altitude, the SR-71 would be accelerated to the point that the airflow over its shock-cone intakes would be forced into the engines at above the speed of sound. At speed above Mach 3, the SR-71 was more or less pulling itself through the air by brute force, with the engines only providing thirty percent of the thrust.
At these speeds, heat was a real problem, as the fuselage would rapidly heat up. Titanium sheds heat better than most metals, and the SR-71 was designed with corrugated “skin” that would easily expand and contract with changing airspeed, heat, and altitude. Panels in the aircraft were deliberately designed to be loose on the ground and contract at altitude; fuel leaks on SR-71s were so commonplace that they were not remarked upon. Even the fuel and black paint scheme (actually a very dark blue) were placed and applied to diffuse heat away from leading edges.
The A-12, and the short-lived YF-12 interceptor, lacked the extended chines of the SR-71; these were used to enhance the aircraft’s stealth techniques to reflect away radar. While in practice this did not work—Soviet radars could easily track the SR-71 through its heat plume—it actually made the aircraft more controllable and gave it increased lift. The SR-71 was not an easy aircraft to fly, but it was considerably easier than the U-2, and was generally reliable unless it lost an engine: the high speeds of the aircraft occasionally caused engine disintegration, which would usually destroy the SR-71. It was also very unstable in bad weather, should it run into any after takeoff or on approach. Because of its high speed, the approach “pattern” for SR-71s to land at their home base of Beale AFB, California, had to begin at St. Louis, Missouri. The navigation system was adapted from that of the Skybolt air-launched nuclear missile, while cameras and side-looking radar was carried in the nose or the chines; these could be swapped out as the mission required. Extensive electronic countermeasures were also carried.
The SR-71 first flew in December 1964 and entered service in 1966—only six years after being ordered, an impressive achievement given its highly advanced nature. It was immediately committed to service over Vietnam under Operation Giant Scale, where its operations were meant to be “secret,” though everyone, including the North Vietnamese, were aware of its presence. Soviet attempts to intercept the SR-71 were not successful: MiG-25 Foxbat interceptors could reach Mach 3, but Foxbat pilot Viktor Belenko later related the “ridiculous ease” that SR-71s could leave behind even the speedy MiG-25. Even later variants of SAMs and increasingly more sophisticated Soviet aircraft still could not intercept the SR-71, which quickly acquired the nickname Blackbird for its paint scheme; its snakelike chines earned it the nickname (and later callsign) Habu from Okinawans around Kadena airbase, where SR-71s often operated from, after the habu pit viper.
One thing that the Blackbird could not outrace was the cost of operation: it required special JP-7 fuel, which in turn required specialized KC-135Q tankers to refuel them. The tooling for the aircraft had been destroyed on the order of Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara in 1967, which meant the 32 operational SR-71s had to be maintained by cannibalizing either the retired A-12 fleet or other Blackbirds to stay operational. It survived several attempts at forced retirement in the 1980s until the breakup of the Communist Bloc finally brought an end to SR-71 operations in 1989, though developments were underway to equip the Blackbird with synthetic-aperture radar and even more advanced engine designs that could propel it up to Mach 6.
This retirement proved to be short-lived: during the First Gulf War, the USAF keenly felt the loss of the SR-71, which could provide better coverage of Iraq than satellites and was not as vulnerable as other reconnaissance platforms. Over heavy opposition from the USAF (which wanted to channel increasingly lower budget money towards the B-2 Spirit and development of the RQ-4 Global Hawk), three SR-71s were returned to service in 1993. After annual fights between the USAF, Congress, and President Bill Clinton over keeping the Blackbird in service, it was finally retired for good in 1998, except for two aircraft to be handed over to NASA for flight testing. NASA’s two aircraft only lasted a few years longer, with the end finally coming in 1999.
Of the 32 SR-71s produced (including SR-71A operational aircraft, SR-71B conversion trainers, and the single SR-71C “hybrid” trainer, converted from an A-12), 12 were lost in accidents. The remaining 20 aircraft have all been preserved in museums around the world. Its replacement was ostensibly the RQ-4 (the U-2 remains in service, ironically outlasting the Blackbird), but speculation abounds that a still-faster and more advanced reconnaissance aircraft is in service, usually referred to as Project Aurora.
Dad built the 1/72 Hasegawa SR-71 kit almost as soon as it hit the market: this was a popular kit when it came out in the early 1980s, because it had an accurate SR-71 cockpit. Dad also wanted a SR-71 kit for some time, and 1/72 scale was easier to store. He built it as 61-7978, the "Rapid Rabbit," so named for the Playboy Bunny carried on the tails. Rapid Rabbit flew Giant Scale missions during the Vietnam War, and was assigned to the 9th Strategic Reconnaissance Wing at Beale AFB, though it was forward deployed to Kadena, Japan. The Rabbit had something of a cursed career: it was nearly lost over Vietnam due to engine failure in May 1972, but managed to make it to Udorn, Thailand. A month later, the Rabbit was landing at Kadena when its dragchute failed; the aircraft went off the runway and was damaged beyond repair. It would be scrapped for parts, but ironically many of the Rabbit's components survive to this day as part of other SR-71s on display.
This model is showing some of the problems of being stuck on Dad's shelf for years without being dusted; the dust has gotten ingrained in the plastic. Today, the model is in the possession of Mr. Adam Pehl.
To see more information about this card, please check out my blogpost about it here: stampcolorcreate.blogspot.com/2011/09/lawnscaping-17.html
Green Mountain (w/ Flat Irons) and Bear Peak in the background as a fast moving thunderstorms starts to break up and move east. The sun is highlighting the still falling rain on Bear Peak in the background. A little sunbeam action adds to the interest.
I don't know why I felt compelled to photograph myself at that moment.
I had just told my girlfriend, who was also my best friend, that I thought we should see other people. She was very upset. I was in the grip of heavy guilt.
It worked out for both of us.
A book that confronted me as I stepped into the library... I can't even read a book like this, but I thought it was poignant.
I have read and heard stories about the noise of the Yukon being almost deafening, and huge pieces of ice being thrown onto the beach, sometimes crushing unwary campers.
This is the front of a breakup(ish) note that I found in the front parking lot of the Liberty Tree Mall in Danvers, MA. Sorry, James. Hope you worked it out.
How to Handle Sex Attachment and Break-Ups in Life (Most Inspirational Video by the best motivational speaker in India ) By Dr.Vivek Bindra
www.ayurvedahimachal.com/index.php?page=completearticle&a...
The storms that had socked us in at Granite Park Chalet lifted and broke up Thursday evening.
© Katie LaSalle-Lowery
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