Whose wondering how I am doing today?
Well...I can honestly say that I am doing well. So well, in fact, that my husband said, "This is the best I've seen you on this day since we've been together," and we've been together for almost 15 years.
Of course, it has been on my mind all day but in a much different way than it has been in the past. Usually I mope around on April 28th feeling very sorry for myself, but today I do certainly not feel sorry for myself. In fact, I feel proud of what I have accomplished. I took great pain and turned it into something positive.
I didn't cry, mope, lie in bed with the covers over my head, eat excessively, or any of the usual indignities.
Although, I did feel a need to remind my husband that sex would definitely be off the agenda for the evening and he wasn't allowed to even think about it. I just couldn't imagine doing "that" on this day.
I'm not going to let that get me down though. I still view today as a victory. This is the first time since 1990 that April 28th hasn't been a day of mourning for me.
Here's to tomorrow!
Wednesday
D I S G R U N T L E D S T A T E of S H O C K
I am in a disgruntled state of shock!
I've been receiving a lot of phone calls lately from different
government officials about my unique situation. Apparently,
they are preparing for Mr. Smith's civil confinement trial that
is scheduled to take place in the middle of May 2010. A
psychiatrist has evaluated him and has deemed him to have a
mental illness that causes him to be a sexual offender. He has
been moved to a mental health facility near Utica, NY so he can
start his treatment for his mental illness. The trial in May will
be where the final decision is made by the NY Supreme Court
about whether or not he does indeed have a mental illness. If
they agree that he does have a mental illness that causes him to
be a sexual offender then 1 of 2 things could happen.
1. They could decide that, although he has a mental illness, he is
safe to live in the public as long as he is supervised by parole.
He might even be made to wear a GPS ankle bracelet but that is
a pretty slim chance. Who will pay for it?
2. They could decide that he is too dangerous to live amongst
the public and be sent back to the mental health facility for
further treatment.
These are the only two options that are ok with me. The third
option is, the Judge / Jury doesn't agree with the earlier
psychiatrist and they think he does NOT have a mental illness,
which is totally probable. I was told that he has always received
a "clean bill of health" for mental illness while in prison so why
would they change it now?
3. They disagree and declare he does NOT have a mental illness
that causes him to be a sexual offender. Then, he walks free.
Well, almost. He still has to register as a violent sex offender,
right?
W R O N G ! ! !
Since he was convicted in 1991, he does not fall under Megan's
Law. Megan's Law is named after seven-year-old Megan Kanka,
a New Jersey girl who was raped and killed by a known child
molester who had moved across the street from the family without
their knowledge. In the wake of the tragedy, the Kankas sought to
have local communities warned about sex offenders in the area.
All states now have a form of Megan's Law.
There are three levels of sex offenders under Megan's Law.
Level 1means the court has determined there is a low risk that
the offender will commit another sex crime.
Level 2 means the court has determined there to be a moderate
risk of the offender committing another sex crime.
Level 3 means the court has determined there to be a high risk
for the offender to committ another sex crime.
If a level 2 or a level 3 sex offender moves into your
neighborhood, you will be notified, but if a level 1 offender
moves into your neighborhood you won't be. If you want
information about a level 1 offender, you have to go down to
your local police station and request it. As required by law, the
DCJS, Division of Criminal Justice System, can only provide
information on level 2 and level 3 offenders on their website.
Since Mr. Smith was convicted before Megan's Law was passed
he can only be made to register as a level 1 sex offender. That
means that he could move in right next door to me and I would
never know it. No one would. Even if I did know it, I could do
nothing about it. There will be no restraining order against him.
I feel violated all over again!
Thursday
A NEW CHAPTER
I just heard some disturbing but rather promising news.
It's about *Mr. Smith.
As some of you know, and if you don't then shame on you for not reading my other blog, (you know,
the one that's no longer available on line cuz now it's a published book that you have to pay for? Ya
snooze ya lose!) Mr. Smith is the man who abducted and raped me back in 1991.
It happened in themiserable beautiful state of New York. Apparently NY has this new law called
The Civil Confinement Law which enables the state to hold sex offenders longer than their sentence
if they are deemed to have a mental health defect.
There are only a handful of sex offenders that the state considers dangerous enough to attempt to
have committed and Mr. Smith happens to be one of the lucky few.
As a matter of fact, he happens to be the first.
Therefore, this trial is going to be a big deal in my small corner of NY. A very big deal. They are not
sure when his trial will start. All they know is that it will happen before April 28, 2011.
If he is determined to have a mental disorder then he could be sent to a mental hospital for criminals
or, at the very least, he could be ordered to where one of those GPS anklets so his where-abouts will
be monitored.
They don't know if the papers will release my name. They don't know if I will have to testify. They
don't know much of anything because they've never seen a trial like this before. But they do know it
will definitely make the papers and the news. It will probably reach the national news media as well.
So you can see why this is disturbing and rather promising news for me.
Hey, maybe I'll start book #2.
It's about *Mr. Smith.
As some of you know, and if you don't then shame on you for not reading my other blog, (you know,
the one that's no longer available on line cuz now it's a published book that you have to pay for? Ya
snooze ya lose!) Mr. Smith is the man who abducted and raped me back in 1991.
It happened in the
The Civil Confinement Law which enables the state to hold sex offenders longer than their sentence
if they are deemed to have a mental health defect.
There are only a handful of sex offenders that the state considers dangerous enough to attempt to
have committed and Mr. Smith happens to be one of the lucky few.
As a matter of fact, he happens to be the first.
Therefore, this trial is going to be a big deal in my small corner of NY. A very big deal. They are not
sure when his trial will start. All they know is that it will happen before April 28, 2011.
If he is determined to have a mental disorder then he could be sent to a mental hospital for criminals
or, at the very least, he could be ordered to where one of those GPS anklets so his where-abouts will
be monitored.
They don't know if the papers will release my name. They don't know if I will have to testify. They
don't know much of anything because they've never seen a trial like this before. But they do know it
will definitely make the papers and the news. It will probably reach the national news media as well.
So you can see why this is disturbing and rather promising news for me.
Hey, maybe I'll start book #2.
DARK and DEEP
Alright...enough about my hormonal monthly case of PMS sudden case of depression.
I don't know where that came from.
You will be happy to know that I am back to my normal singing show tunes self.
bottom of my keep-sake box. Although, I must warn you...it's pretty depressing in itself. Man, I
needed some therapy when I was a teenager.
DARK AND DEEP
Dark and deep
Make me weep
A silent tear
Slides down my cheek
Young yet old
Help me mold
Our distance far
Our love so bold
Love and fear
I shed a tear
The message here
Isn't clear
Dark and deep
Make me weep
On a lonely pillow
Lies my cheek
Tuesday
POOR, POOR PITIFUL ME!
No poetry today. Today I feel like sharing my present day feelings.
I am finding it hard to write words of encouragement when I am feeling so discouraged myself.
I fall asleep every night praying to God for wisdom and courage to overcome my circumstances.
I, once again, look outwardly "normal" but inside I feel completely alone, scared, unloved, pathetic, ridiculous...
Poor, poor pitiful me!
DEG2B2VSHHAN
Monday
C O N V E R T E D
Here's another poem from when I was 15. I was such a strange
and tragic child. Hahahahahahahaha!!!!!
CONVERTED?!?
It's what I want and it's what I run from. They say I am crazy. I say I am not. I see myself when I look at confusion.
DECISION
Everyone wants it their way. I want it mine. Why must everything compute with everyone? They see me as different. I say, "Go to ...!"
REPUTATION
How do you feel when you have no feelings? My tears are held back by disbelief and pride. My worst fears are now my fantasies.
DEPRESSION
I ask myself how my life can make a difference. The knowledge of my loneliness is too much for me. Am I the only one who truly understands?
REALITY
I give in without a word to the influence of the future. Why is life based on decision? This is goodbye to this heartless world.
DECISION-REPUTATION-DEPRESSION-REALITY
CONVERTION
Saturday
R E A L I T Y 1989
Here's another poem of mine that I found in my Keep-Sake Box. It's rather depressing...
Reality
LOVE...nothing but a deceitful emotion.
LONLINESS...no reason to cause a commotion.
EXPERIENCE...your best feature in all.
INSANITY...caught on the wrong side of the wall.
INNOCENCE...remembrance of your past.
PRUDE...afraid to move too fast.
HATRED...the confusion between love.
HESITANT...needs a little shove.
PAIN...time catching up to you.
SHAME...the guilt of what you do.
FRIENDSHIP...your imagination playing games.
POPULARITY...being familiar with certain names.
LIFE...what we have but cannot hold.
FATE...what is there but can't be controlled.
DEATH...the last stage of our worthless souls.
REMEMBRANCE...the only thin that we have to hold.
1989
Thursday
Heere Coomees The Pooeettrryy!!
Ok, heeeeerrreeee comes the poooeettrryy!!!
I've decided to start with a poem I wrote when I was 14. I think it tells a lot about me, in its own twisted
way. Try not to laugh too hard...or do because I sure thought I was funny.
I've decided to start with a poem I wrote when I was 14. I think it tells a lot about me, in its own twisted
way. Try not to laugh too hard...or do because I sure thought I was funny.
Once a Muffy Always a Muffy
Sitting surrounded by fads
A tradition passed down by Dads
Is that you? How have...er?
Hey, you look just like her.
And her, and her. Hey what the Hell?
I'll give you $50 bucks if you sell
That shirt, those shoes. Hey put on this.
Can't you hear me? I don't like being dissed.
Oh, I get it. I'm not your friend.
Just 'cuz I don't follow trends.
Well, that's alright. That's ok.
Hell, I don't need you anyway.
But you need me. Where's your style?
I'd like to contemplate awhile.
And you should too. Plan your future
Or do you want to be a miniature
Alysso Milano all your life?
Here you go. Take this knife
And rip and tear. Hey, tear right there.
Now lets do something with that hair.
But in a way you still look muffy.
What's your name? It's probably Buffy.
Whatever! Let's go. I'll buy you style.
No, not at Bloomingdale's. Why I'll...
Nevermind, let's catch a beat.
What? Your favorite beat is *FYC?
Alright! That's it! It's over Buffy.
I've learned...once a muffy always a muffy.
1988
*Fine Young Canniballs
Wednesday
Keep-Sake Box
I was doing a little spring cleaning the other day and I came
across my "keep-sake box". I have had this box since I was 13
years old. It gets bigger and bigger as the years pass.
It started out as a shoebox and now it is a big, plastic bin.
I keep everything that I hold sacred in this box, such as...my
high school diploma, certificates earned, old pictures,old love
letters, my children's portraits and accomplishments, and old
diaries.
I am so glad I have this box. There is nothing funnier than going
through old love letters and diaries from when you were a
teenager.
Although, I must say, re-reading my diaries has only
strengthened my belief that every parent should secretly read
their child's diary. Well, maybe not every parent but definitely
those whose children exhibit suspicious behavior.
Which I am sure I did, although I don't think my mother ever
read my diary or I am sure there would have been some sort of
intervention. Ha ha ha!
I found some poems I wrote and I decided to share them with
you. Some poetry I cannot bear to share because it is so
embarrassingly ♫ H I L A R I O U S ♫
They're so ridiculous that I had a hard time reading them
myself. I remember letting my friends read them and I
remember thinking that they were good.
I would rip them up and throw them away but where's the fun
in that?!?
Friday
Shopping With My Daughter
Hello!
How is everyone feeling on this fine New England day?
I'm just sitting here, getting caffeinated and trying to get excited about taking my 14 year old daughter
shopping for, what she says is a must-have Easter dress.
Normally, you would think that shopping with your 14 year old daughter for clothes would be fun. A
chance for sharing and bonding. Well, you must not have a 14 year old daughter if you think that!
14 year old girls are at that stage in their lives when they still ask their mothers to go shopping with them,
but don't be fooled. They may invite you but it's only because they need you to drive them places and give
them money.
Once you arrive at the destination, you are expected to follow silently and try not to embarrass them in
front of the occassional classmate they may encounter.
If you are foolish enough to offer your opinion on an article of clothing, they immediatley hear the exact
opposite of what you just said. For example,
Mom,"Oh, that dress is pretty! You would look really nice in that one."
Daughter, "Eew! Yeah right." (extensive eye rolling)
Mom, "But it looks just like that last one you tried on."
Daughter, "It does not! (hmph) The other dress was pink!" (more eye rolling)
Sometimes I like to mess with her and test this theory of reverse pshycology. If I see her checking out a
dress I might say, "I love that one! Do they have it in my size?" She will immediately "drop it like it's hot!"
I know that's not nice but, sometimes I just can't help myself.
Usually, I reserve this practice for when the dress is too costly or worse...too provacotive.
I wonder if my mother tested this theory
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