How The Bee Taught Me About Connection

Bumblebee is finally online. https://rarbgmirror.xyz/torrent/vmnr3zy join list: AllThingsTV (9 subs)Mention History..  I'd still recommend seeing it in theatres, if you can afford.
Courtesy of FunkyJunk.com

It must be a dream come true
to find someone who lends you
your voice when it has been
s t r i p p e d
from you.
the depth of love
cloaks itself in soft touches
and understanding,
a hand that caresses
the weary, aching parts–
she oiled every crevice
and he pulled the last bit
of fight from his spirit
in her honor,
but for the world.

Music and its healing power
brought two different beings
together.
it seemed like fate,
the moment the right
song was chosen to
c o n n e c t
what otherwise would have not
been connected.
I watched love
push itself from the
surface, up through the
chutes of terror, and
manifest into light.

And it all happened with
the Bee.

But, how do we stop a world of hate

When the world does not yet know how to love?

“Trump Attacks Transgender Health Care”

“Access to care is hard now. Religious ‘liberty’ is set to make it worse.”

Photo by Sharon McCutcheon on Unsplash

“Transgender people have serious problems accessing quality health care. The Trump Administration is about to make it even harder.


Think physicians and other medical professionals honor their Hippocratic oaths and treat their patients equally and neutrally? The Center for American Progress (CAP) wants you to know that’s not true — not with LGBTQ people at least.

They conducted a comprehensive survey in 2017 and found that 8% of gay people report being refused medical treatment because of their sexual orientation.

That’s bad enough, but a full 29 percent of transgender people said a doctor or other health care provider refused to see them because of their actual or perceived gender identity. Twenty-one percent said a doctor or other health care provider used harsh or abusive language when treating them.”


The excerpt you see above was written by Medium Writer, James Finn. I have mentioned him several times in this space as he is an advocate for the LGBTQ community and seems to get no rest in his efforts for speaking out against hatred and all common indecencies against mankind. I have sat with his article, of which, I will post the link to shortly so that you can read it in its entirety, but first–how? No, really… how can you work your heart in such a way to deny someone different from you healthcare? Or, the very resources and ways that will alleviate an illness or an ailment of any kind? Why… Why would you design a plan to pass a law that will aid physicians who hold conservative beliefs and (in my opinion) garner hate to possibly maintain the right to openly denounce Hippocratic oaths and not serve people who are LGBTQ?

I am sitting here trying to prevent myself from crying because the ache is incredibly strong. Those who base their opinions on that of a Godly source are sadly mistaken in what God wants. They do not know their Bible or they interpret their Bible entirely different from what is written. The second most greatest commandment given to believers and those willing to follow is to, “Love thy neighbor as thyself.” Matthew 22: 39. The pain of reading this article is so heavy that I at first, did not know what to say or how to respond. I still have not, but I will do so on that post with this blog entry’s link. *sighs* I try to be a source of light–of love. I try to understand all who are different from me. I try to listen, to learn, and to care.

I cannot fathom denying someone a bare minimum human act. At my job, we are under the umbrella of an astounding organization that prides itself on diversity and inclusion and being in the medical field, no one–and I can tell you for a fact, no one in our facility will deny anyone healthcare based on their sexual orientation or any other status that lawmakers feel is out of their accepted realm. We are there to provide care. We are there to give you a sense of comfort, to alleviate stress, to aid in the betterment of your condition, and we MUST DO THAT or we will be fired. There are no ifs, ands, and buts about the situation. We knew this before accepting our roles and that is what WE OUGHT TO DO.

“Religious liberty? Since when is religion about hurting people?”

If you can call yourself a child of God and your aim is to hurt his children, then the very words you let spill from your lips are hypocrisy. God does not honor hate. God does not honor man. God does not honor a sense of selfishness. God honors love and you as his child, as a believer, are supposed to love. SIMPLE AND PLAIN. These days, I am losing strength and a bit of faith in humanity, but I am trying not to shut down. These days, I do not know this America.

These days, I do not want to know this America, nothing about it is great.

Nothing.


*The full article written by James Finn can be found here:

Trump Attacks Transgender Health Care

You may not understand why this is important, but I am living day to day praying that I am not personally targeted while my brothers and sisters are. It’s despicable and it ought to be outlawed. Change, real change–is long overdue.

The Journey Back to Mental Wellness

My First Therapist Session

koreansoup
Korean Soup for the Soul. My good friend Heej/Classical Sass makes this per my request every time I visit. It is a happy place for me. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

found myself working through a fit of disconnectedness on Wednesday, March 20, 2019, simply trying to get through the day to get to my first therapist appointment at 12:30 pm. Jernee spiked a fever the day before and we had been to the Vet’s office for what was supposed to be just her annual exam but turned into a big-to-do because the fever would not break, however, given one day to rest and be at home to romp about at will, she began to feel much better. Wednesday also found me in a meeting at my job for most of my scheduled half-day of work, so I felt all out of sorts with just a little bit more weight on my shoulders from Tuesday’s doggy shenanigans.

But, when I walked through the door of the psychiatric practice/mood treatment facility, a calming sense of peace came over me. I registered at the check-in desk by presenting my insurance card, recent lab work, and my Living Will and Testament. I paid my copay and before I could sit down, the lady who would be my therapist greeted me at the door to lead me on my journey and even said my name correctly. If I had a gold star in my pocket, she would have received it. We circled the hall and walked towards her office where she guided me to a medium-sized room, big enough for a comfortable couch, two even more comfortable chairs, and her desk space/work area.

She added to my increased level of comfort by asking me which type of lighting I preferred. I said to myself, “I am going to like her.” And, I did. I do. We began by breaking the ice, introducing ourselves, and then she said, “So, tell me what is going on,” and I let it rip. I started from when I noticed my mood changes and my decline in happiness and overall feeling of unworthiness and informed her that it all came to an intense spike a couple of weeks ago. As I was talking, I maintained eye contact, and so did she. She only broke my verbal stride to clarify what I was saying and to be sure she heard everything correctly. She took actual notes, reading back to me what was stated to her.

The entire session felt like a conversational hug — like something I had deep down inside, tucked in a corner that was afraid to come out, and at that moment, decided to present itself to be coddled. I felt a sense of genuine welcome and there was soft lighting in every nook of the office with a fragrance that smelled close to vanilla or lavender or a mixture of both in the air. I did not feel any pressure. Oddly enough, this space, the one we created, seemed very much like a space of peace.

Just like the soup that you see as the photo above, the space we created was my happy place. I felt warm, understood, and heard. I had a voice with her. She acknowledged my concern and addressed it, and advised me to continue to use the tools that I am using to increase my happiness and shift my mood when a dark cloud hovers, however, she was vocal about contacting her directly if I felt as though a volcanic eruption could occur. She is letting me set my schedule to meet with her and at this time, I feel as though, twice per month, will be good.

The next session, we will get deeper into other helpful tools that will assist me in getting back to a level of balance and to also learn about a few other things that can combat the molehill that I have possibly turned into a mountain simply because that is how it feels. There is a good chance that I may have some homework too, she actually said this, “Tre, I may give you some homework as time goes on.” Overall, my first impression of her? Genuine — is doing the job she is meant to do, and a great listener.

I think I am on my way… In time, at least, I hope so

 


Originally published via A Cornered Gurl on Medium.

My Journey so far:

The Caretaker & Biting the Bullet

Featured Writer for March

Photo by Tess on Unsplash

Askia Shantel:

When one receives a piece of writing from a family member to host in their publication, there is no describing it. Askia is one of my older cousins — one, I have always looked up to; she encourages me and has always supported me and reads my work regardless of where it appears. To see her share with all of us here makes my heart smile. Please, encourage her, beautiful people. It takes a lot to jump back into something you have neglected for such a long time. She is our Featured Writer for the next two weeks of March. And now, “Watchful Eye.”


Watchful Eye…

Leaving out of the dress shop, my brain is swirling — I just bought a formal dress for my daughter to attend the military ball at her high school. So, everything seems to be fuzzy because I’m feeling fuzzy all over. As we walk to the car, I see a little bit of a commotion that sort of snaps me back to reality.

A young guy and a very young girl having a bit of a confrontation.

Not really a confrontation — an altercation. He’s pulling her. She’s pulling away.

At first, I don’t think it’s a big deal. Lover’s quarrel. But she’s begging him to leave her alone.

So, now I have two options. I can pull off and mind my own business or I can make sure she’s ok. I choose door #2. I don’t leave because my heart aches for her.

Now I have another decision to make. Should I call the police and get them to help or do I put my window down and give the girl a ride? This time, I go for door #1. As I start to think clearly, if he’s bold enough to assault this young lady outside in broad daylight, he may be in fight or flight mode himself.

So I call the police. I’m moving my car from parking spot to parking spot. I want them to see meI want them to know that someone is watchingI want HER to know that I am there. It doesn’t seem to be deterring him — he’s still pulling, pushing and shouting at her. Another passenger sees this too and stops near the couple. I make eye contact with him and let him know that I’m calling the police.

The dispatcher eagerly asks for a description and a location. She is very helpful and thorough. I feel like she wants the girl to be safe and smart just as much as I do. I’m following. The dispatcher is questioning. The man is yelling. The girl is crying. My heart is breaking.

Just when I think she’s about to really walk away and find help, he grabs her around the neck in a hug/choke. He’s whispering now. Whatever he says works for him. She willingly gets in the car. He glares at me as they speed off.

I feel sick. I can’t believe my eyes.

I am trying not to cry. I want her to get in the car with me so that I can take her to safety. But she’s gone.

I get a glimpse of my daughter. She’s stunned and in disbelief. I can’t help but wonder if my daughter would know what to do if she were in this situation. I wonder if she’s ever witnessed anything like this. I wonder…would someone stop and check on her well-being. I pray someone does…


Originally published in A Cornered Gurl via Medium.