Some People

You now them. You’ve seen, heard, or interacted with them in different situations.

Today I read a comment on  a friend’s post from one of those people.

My friend had posted a status about another such individual among the tribe of the Some People. It was a rant about this person sending her parenting advice, when they barely knew her mind you, in a very aggressive form.

I clicked the little comment box to tell her how wonderful a job I thought she was doing & how amazing her teeny tiny’s sleep patterns were at 6 weeks and then I saw it. This lady’s first comment read, “Does she have kids?”

Like…..first of all, I’m pretty that’s not relevant at all. This girl was ranting about unsolicited advice….does it really matter if the person who said has children, or not?? Fun fact: turns out the first lady from the Some People does in fact have children.

All of this brings me to this point…it’s something us infertile people hear a lot &, quite frankly, something we get sick of getting slapped across the face with.

“Does she have kids?”

Speaking for myself, no I don’t have living children. However, I have worked with the HANDS program (a program focused on prenatal and infant growth & development up til the age of 2), the Family Preservation Program (working toward preserving families and children of all ages), as well working as a nanny for several years to some pretty awesome kiddos.

Point being, just because I don’t have children, how is any advice I may be able to offer (if asked for mind you, as I am not one of the Some People) any less significant than someone who was able to have children?

It’s not.

Point being:

• Please don’t be one of the Some People
• Do not assume that, just because someone doesn’t have children, they can’t possibly have any relevant knowledge to share with you (if asked for suggestions & the like).
• Or, for that matter, that we have even less of a right to partake in a conversation because we do not, or in our case-CANNOT, have children

Thank you, & good day!

 

Stronger

A few months back, you may recall seeing a post on How To Spot Your Troll, where I detailed how you track someone’s location using their IP address. What you didn’t see, thanks to WordPress not allowing the last comment to show up on one of my recent posts at the time, was her last comment.

It was left on a post I wrote about PTSD. Though I don’t know the exact wording-because I didn’t care to look twice once I figured out where it came from-it said something to the effect of I had no business trying to have children when I was obviously too troubled to do so.

Yes, someone who was sexually abused & raped is more likely to develop PTSD. That is an unfortunate reality people like me have to endure. However, to say I would be any less likely to be a mother than she is couldn’t be further from the truth. I feel like it’s quite the opposite in fact.

What I’ve gone through throughout my life is what nightmares are made of. When I allow myself to sit with it, even for a while, I feel like I’m starring in a Lifetime special. I feel like my life was stripped from me. & it was.

But I got it back. & that, above all else, is the most important part of my story. 

On the post the last comment was left on, I divulged details of my journey through PTSD. Things that are no longer the case in the current reality of my life. I spilled out the darkest time of my life, when I had to finally accept what had happened to me to the fullest extent.

The bravest thing I have ever done, one of them anyway, was continuing my life when I wanted to die. I wanted to die because I felt dirty, used, and, “bad,” for the things that had happened to me. And here this lady, who was bound & determined to hate me before she even knew me, was mocking that. She mocked my triggers. My feelings. The depth of my darkness.

All of which, for the record, have only served in making me stronger than I ever believed possible.

According to her, how dare someone who was sexually abused & raped countless times have PTSD. How dare they ever think of reproducing. I guess all the other girls like me should resign ourself to childless lives. After all, don’t we need further punishment for a life we did not choose?

I did not choose to be raped. I did not choose my PTSD. No one does. No person wakes up & yells, after they theatrically jump out of bed, “I WANT A MENTAL ILLNESS!!” 

I assure you, it doesn’t happen.

My perp. took my childhood. My college years. The years that preceded that. &, sometimes, continues to take away the brightest moments of my life today.

He robbed me of relationships I’d had my whole life. Cousins I considered best friends were gone forever when the truth came to light. He ruined my holidays.

But he doesn’t get to dictate any more of my life. Those chapters are long gone.

I once had a therapist say to me, “What’s happening to you now (PTSD) is a normal reaction to what was done to you. You’d only be crazy if it weren’t.”

I have stood toe to toe with my demons time & time again. I have fought for my life every single day for a number of years leading up to these past 2 that have finally been free.

How dare you-or anyone else-ever discount that.

My, ‘mental illness’ isn’t going to make me any less of a parent than you are…..I’ll just be even more capable & stronger in those coming chapters as well.

Stop the stigma. 

Love, not hate.

Curtain Call: Spotting Your Troll

Originally, I was not going to waste my breathe on defending my life to someone who does not know me personally. I wasn’t going to vindicate their hateful comments, judgments, & accusations of me.

I was, however, ready & willing to research how to block their IP address.

Thanks, to a friend of mine who did a VLOG long ago exposing her troll, I knew what route to take in doing so.

Word to the wise: when you comment, even anonymously, your IP address shows up. From here, you are then able to head on over to http://www.iptrackeronline.com & see where said address physically came from.

My troll had the same IP addy for every single hate filled comment I received. Thanks, to the map on the tracker website, you’re also able to see the internet provider, latitude, longitude, anddddddd a fun map showing where exactly said person lives.

& now you know fellow WordPressers (that’s a thing, right?). This is how to at least spot a troll.

Mine isn’t hiding behind a mask anymore. The, “pay no attention to the man (or, in my case, WO-man) behind the curtain,” is over.

Curtain Call.

“Annoyed”

If you’re going to leave a paragraph on my blog abut how pathetic I am & how bad of a person I am, even spatting, “you are what is wrong with this world,” have the balls to leave your name. Don’t do it anonymously. You obviously have a lot to say about me & my life so why are you hiding behind a keyboard & doing it under the tag, “annoyed.”

 You know what annoys me, “annoyed,” people filled with hate who make it their mission to bring others down.

If you don’t like my blog, don’t freaking read it so much-as you obviously had in referencing posts that went back for months. It really is THAT simple. 
Also, for anyone else who may be wondering, we booked & paid the deposit for our beach trip BEFORE we knew we needed IVF. Also, I do go to Starbucks a few times a week. Sue me. I’m sorry, I don’t think maybe $15 a week is stopping me from getting to the 12,000 we need. 
My blog is mine. You can call it anything you like. If it’s a, “diary,” in your hateful eyes, close the book.