===continued from previous post===

Regardless as to my humorous spin (I thought it was funny) on these kinds of life events... I am very, very, very (I mean VERY) serious when it comes to the subject of victimization. My Brother had a rough childhood. YES, he was mistreated. YES, he experienced some things that no one should have to experience. YES, he was beaten quite often. BUT, those "wrong" things do NOT excuse his behavior.

My brother has chosen to take the "easy" way out. He complains to whomever is new in his life, that he was beaten and abused as a child (truth). He states that he was mistreated (truth) and ignored (lie) by his adoptive parents. He states that he was lied to and about by his sister, me (half-truth ===I would exagerate about him, and I would sometimes lie about what he'd done in a specific instance to minimize his punishment===) He states that he was innocent of any wrong-doing (lie) and that every time he was punished, he was beaten bloody (lie === often he was beaten bloody, but not every time===).

Many of the things my brother complains, whines about are true. However, he doesn't tell the whole story. For instance, yes, he was mistreated. BUT, he was not innocent.

Gah... the thing that really bothers me here, is that in order to tell about him, and talk about how he was mistreated, I have to "tell" on my Mother. And that kills me. See, it is my personal belief that no one in this world deserves to be beaten for no reason. BUT, I do believe in corporal punishment. I believe in spanking.

Let me write up a scenario for you. This is from my childhood, something I watched, with no glossing to protect my Mother's character.

My brother had been watching TV in the morning before school. It was against the rules to do so. When he heard Mom's door open, upstairs, he turned off the TV, ran into the kitchen, poured himself a bowl of cereal and sat at the table, eating quickly. As Mom came downstairs, she went to the TV and felt the top of it. It was warm. (duh)

She entered the kitchen, looked at Dan and said, "Were you watching TV this morning?" he said no without looking up, and continued to eat his cereal.

Mom looked at him, frowning and frustrated. She asked him again, her voice stern. He said no again, without looking up. She said he wasn't allowed to watch TV in the morning, that was the rule and he knew it. Then she went about her morning stuff, and Dan and I went off to school.

===this was when we were about 7 and 8 or so===

This pattern was repeated about every two or so days, for about two weeks, possibly a little less. Finally, Mom came down one morning and caught him dashing into the kitchen, the little dot on the TV screen blinked out just as she came into the room. She'd heard him snap off the TV.

She caught up to him and asked if he'd been watching TV. He said no. She said that the TV was warm and she saw him leaving just as she came downstairs and she asked how that could be if he hadn't been watching. He said I had been watching TV.

She didn't believe him and said he was going to get a spanking for lying to her. She told him to come to her, he refused. She told him to come to where she was, he refused. She went to him, grabbed him by the arm and dragged him, kicking and screaming already, to where she had originally been standing.

She demanded that he drop his pants so that she could administer the spanking. He refused, so she, open handed, moved to smack his ass. He jumped out of the way and the blow landed about his hip, near his waist. He screamed, loudly. It sounded like he'd been nailed with a jack-hammer or something like that, but I'd been watching the whole thing.

Mom told him to stand still and just accept his spanking... he refused. He jerked and flailed around, trying to wrench his hand out of Mom's grasp. She tried to spank him four more times, aiming for his ass, but the blows landing on back, leg, shoulder and chest.

With each blow he screamed as if he were dying.

Then, the bus showed up and honked. So, Mom let him go, and he walked out of the house, and to the bus as if nothing had happened. But, when he got on the bus, he'd told the kids that he'd been beaten.

*shrugs*

To this day, he talks about how badly he was mistreated. And I agree. He was mistreated. He was abused. BUT, I also know that there was a whole hell of a lot that he did to CAUSE the abuse. The choices he made led to his abuse and the beatings he received.

I don't remember even ONE time when a beating was more than five smacks. Even when Dad used the belt, or Mom used the spoon. Five was about the limit.

*smiles softly* Sorry, folks, body memory... *smiles again* Hold one... I'll be right back.

*smiles* Okay, I'm back....

Alright... the main point I have wanted to make, and which has seemed so extremely elusive, is this...

No matter what your past holds, no matter what you've been through, what you've done, what's been done to you, etc. NONE of it matters now. None of it. So what?

The only thing that matters NOW, is what you're going to DO now. If you're going to sit back on your ass, whining and crying about how mistreated you've been, and how that's the reason you aren't where you want to be, then shut the fuck up, or go away. If you're going to be angry and mean and cruel to other people, saying it's the only thing you know because that's the way you were treated, shut the fuck up AND go away.

If you're going to bitch and complain ONCE in a while about how you were mistreated, but mostly move to change the way you live your life, then congratulations, you've hit maturity right on the head.

If you want me to take pity on you, tell me something ONCE. Do NOT barrage me with stories about how you were abused and mistreated by life, parents, situations, siblings, etc. I will be sympathetic for a time. I will be gentle and kind hearted when you need some support. BUT, if you need support 24/7 for something that happened more than five years ago.. quit the shit!!!

There MUST be a day when you realize that everything happens because of a choice you have made. It might have been a wrong choice... it might have been an accidental choice... it may have been an intentional choice, but it was a CHOICE you made.

So, realize that you are making your own choices and the world seems to be an easier place to live in.

When you realize that YOU make your own choices, the world doesn't seem so scary and mean. When you realize that YOU are the one who says where you go and how you get there AND how you react when you're there, then it all works out in the end.

You might still wind up drunk off your ass and in jail, booked on a DUI, BUT, you will know that YOU are the reason you're there. It isn't someone elses fault.

Accept responsibility for the choices and decisions you make, child. Know that it is not someone else's fault that you are where you are. You had the ability to say "no". You just didn't make that choice.

Many of you may not agree with me. Many of you may think that you don't have choices and options... but... well... That's your opinion. And I think you're wrong.

I won't condemn you for your beliefs. I won't even call you on it. BUT, I will keep my own belief. And, I will not pity you when you wind up in the same place you were six months ago just because you made the same bone-head choice you've been making for the past 12 years.

==== Now, I fully realize that some of you readers may be highly offended by the above and the previous entry. However, that is your option. That is a choice you made for yourself. I am stating my opinion. Who knows? It is possible that in the next few days, weeks, months or years I will come to a new understanding and change this opinion. However, I don't think that is the case.

This is a truth I have learned in the past two years. I have the right to choose. And I have made choices that were both good and bad for me and my life.

Hell, it's not Dad's fault, or even the driver of the Kenworth, that I was in the hospital for three weeks and now have a paralysis which might never go away. It is no one's fault but mine. Because, I was watching that KenWorth get closer and I didn't say a thing about it. I didn't tell Dad to stop. I didn't grab the wheel. I didn't scream. I CHOSE silence. I chose to remain as I was, depressed, believing that I couldn't do jack shit in my life.

*smiles softly*

had I lifted my hand, I could have turned out of the path of the truck. Had I said anything, I could have at least warned my Father of the impending wreck. I did nothing. That was a CHOICE. And a choice I made.====

Now, I choose to say my ciao-s so that I can get dressed and go on out to the karaoke contest. Besides, it's now about 7:30 or so in the evening and I haven't had but a dish of icecream and a sandwhich to eat all day. *chuckles* Of course, I've only really been awake for about four hours. *grins*

So, Peace unto thy hearts. may your every positive wish come true. And may you see the glory in everything around you. Enjoy each and every step of your life. This gift of life is truly marvelous.

Peace and joy and all that hoopla...

J

AKA