Read about the Incident can be found here:

Based on the communal nightmare that took place in my mother’s street (literally two doors down from her home) the other day; and, after seeing firsthand the ways in which panic and confusion can easily take over an already chaotic scenario, I have decided to take the initiative of beginning a “neighborhood panic button” for my own neighborhood. I do not foresee any situation in which a gunman takes, and subsequently murders a hostage – but my parents wouldn’t have foreseen it, either. I feel obligated in a sense to do this for one main reason: empathy. As an outsider who was caught alongside the insiders during this horrible event’s unfolding (a total of 13 hours by the time we were cleared to leave the vicinity), I can say with certainty that things could have been handled very differently in regard to the surrounding neighbors – by the surrounding neighbors. This had NOTHING to do with police actions that were littering any square of sidewalk for blocks in any direction, either…they did an impressive perimeter lockdown and had every resource at work from the time they arrived until they finally left during the wee morning hours the next day.
The issue I kept feeling like I was backhanded by was undoubtedly the overall lack of concern, cooperation, and/or compassion put forth by the very people that live there. It has never been a very close-knit neighborhood, despite what everyone is saying in the news since the incident. Nobody, save Abuela (the woman who was killed), my mother (not my step-father because he is as inti-social as it comes), a Slavic man with a tiny dog named Tiger, and two archaic elderly couples on either corner, even speak to one another regularly. The few people who behave neighborly to one another have only come to do so with a long passing of time and necessity (an earthquake, a car accident outside, etc.). People had no idea that Abuela was even in trouble, much less – that kind of trouble; my mother did not even hear the shots that killed her from two houses away…I swear to the Gods at one point early on in the stand-off, I heard the Korean man who lives in between my mom and the crime scene in his backyard sorting through his recyclables – I would have assumed he was completely oblivious to what was going on, but am positive that he knew because we had all been put on lock-down and the police had been in and through the houses surrounding Abuela’s, including my mom’s. I just feel like maybe if her neighborhood gave a little more of fuck about one another on a humanitarian level, things might have ended differently…I don’t know. What I do know is that THIS is prime example of why neighbors should be neighborly to one another during times of NON-CHAOS.
Empathy is a near extinct and quite unpopular notion, I know…but when are all these uppity, self-absorbed, judgmentally challenged idiots everywhere going to grasp the concept that it is, and always has been EMPATHY that sets human beings (as a species) apart from the rest – – – we are doomed undeniably if we let it fade to chaos.


If I added up all,
of the loads of days,
that have landed you,
steadfastly in my way…
by now, I’m pretty certain,
that you’d somehow downplay,
the fact that such welcome,
has been long-overstayed…
with so much of my privacy,
handed over to you in trade,
went so much of my sanity,
yes – you’re driving me insane…
when I see the overall expenditure,
tolling on my over-adrenalized brain,
and I sense any lack of true humility,
the elephant enters the room once again…
but I must re-emphasize a point to you,
that’s been over-shadowed by,
such an ugly, pompous attitude…
when the sun is once again: gone,
and another day is through,
it’s unfailingly – the ones like me,
that sustain the likes of you.

My Cheerios.

Today marks a day that I have been abandoned for the last time by somebody who I have let close to me; well, I’m sure it’s not the last time I will be abandoned in life – but it is the last time I will allow myself to feel that way over any individual who strikes me down as a result of his or her own completely unrelated issues.

This will be the last time someone builds anything with me, just to plow over everything we’ve constructed in one, discrediting sweep of the hand; the last time someone who claimed to care about me and mine pisses all over the banquet table and in my cheerios.

I am absolutely disgusted by the way that people tend to martyr off those closest to their shit, the way that people say one thing and do something totally different – especially at random – in some twisted show of power or control.

Today marks the very last time that some totally self-absorbed outsider slips under my radar and gets in to feed off of my life and energies until their belly is near bursting and they’ve had their fill.

D is for Dissociation.

The word, alone, conjures up images of schizophrenic women huddling in corners, whispering to themselves, insane – completely detached from any reality that any observer may live inside of…I always default back to the book I read during my time in the Girls’ Ranch when I was fourteen about a survivor of ritualistic childhood trauma, the only way this creature was able to survive at all was through dissociation – to the point of losing herself somewhere within its comforts along the way.
I am not a childhood trauma survivor; I cannot emphasize enough – my unwavering admiration and respect and awe of this type of survivor, though it deeply hurts my heart that they even exist at all as a face of Survival…
Children…Children = whatever hope we have left as a species…the cycle of abusing them is in dire need of a screeching halt caused by our own feet sticking firmly in the ground and demanding it. The damage it causes is creating an unseen evolution in our entire species – RECOGNIZE.
Dissociation is a psychological coping mechanism that is often utilized by children in traumatizing situations from which they are unable to physically escape to safety. It is also commonly seen in “battered women” with the same inability. I became very intimately familiar with this form of mental escapism as a means of physical survival during my marriage to a psychopathic murderer; it was, in my opinion, the very most important tool that I used throughout the entirety of my living nightmare – it enabled me to survive.
Despite my very personal experiences with dissociation and the execution of its use in my own past, over the decade in between then and now, I have been successful in learning to keep its use from creeping so far into my daily existence that it throttles out the original “me” with traits that define the “me” who I essentially created back then to be stronger, to be the protector, to be the survivor, to be the primordial. I believe this has ONLY been possible for me due to the fact that dissociation did not become a mechanism of mine until I was a young adult in a tragic situation; I am also able to see very clearly: the hairline fractures left in my soul from its presence in my life for a short time. It’s as a direct result of my own experiences with dissociation, that I am able to readily bleed for anyone who I happen upon that continues to dissociate as an adult – man or woman. The root cause of this psychological affect is so horrible and full of helplessness and hopelessness that it’s difficult to even put into words – what must cause an adult to retract into la-la land as a means self-preservation…I can tell you whatever it is, will be anything but a simple “fix”.
The purpose behind this post is not to sway any opinions by any means, if you are a judgmental ass – I can’t change you…but it really bothers me when I am reading things that are spilled out of a heart belonging to someone who has obviously been through some serious shit – only to follow it up by reading mean-spirited and heartless bullshit in the comments section left from some jackass douche-bag with a quarter brain cell. When you have the capacity to go out of your way to talk shit to a stranger in obvious emotional turmoil, what does that say about what the fuck you REALLY are at the end of the day? Chew on that, please. I’m sorry that you have an emotionally unstable and troubled ex-girlfriend who happened to manifest her own demons by fucking your friends behind your weaselly back, but that doesn’t automatically chalk up the word dissociation with her and her behaviors that you experienced. DO SOME HOMEWORK before you publicize your complete lack of knowledge and//or humanity, if such is not your intention. You reek of stupidity and weakness. Seriously, I’m embarrassed for you upon reading such garbage you see fit to leave scattered across places of healing energy. You should be ashamed of yourselves, every last one of you. Let me ask you – any of you shallow mother fuckers that troll to talk shit:

Does anyone here actually believe that an adult would purposely or intentionally CHOOSE to have to escape reality in order to deal with it? REALLY???

This is what’s wrong with everything, you blind fucks!!! YOU.