Rejection Hurts. Even For-the-Best-Rejection Hurts.

Examples of hurtful, good and bad, rejections:

1. Societal rejection, which effects mass-scale evils such as the Holocaust and the continuing rise of Donald Trump. For Jews, Blacks, Hispanics, and other peoples; women, people with disabilities, and immigrants to be told, "You don't count;" "you're not a part of America", etc. hurts—didn't Jews already suffer rejection during the Holocaust, including in the U.S. (when, e.g., Bernard Baruch was blamed for the "Jew Deal" and the "S.S. St. Louis" was turned away)? Didn't Blacks already suffer with Jim Crow and the Nadir? Didn't Hispanics already suffer with being stereotyped during "Operation Wetback"? Never mind that women suffered until even decades after Susan B. Anthony came along, and never mind that people with disabilities are still mistreated (by those such as Dana Stubblefield and TMZ, whom went after the rape victim and her "bizarre profile"—shame on TMZ for going after a person with intellectual disabilities, let alone a person with intellectual disabilities whom was trying to find a job and got raped at work!). 
2. Familial rejection—all one, e.g., has to do is read the headlines about how a mother murdered her four-year-old child whom had Cystic Fibrosis and how female middle- and high-school students throw away their newly-born children as if the children are disposable tampons or medical waste such as pushed-out kidney stones.
3. Romantic rejection—especially for people whom've been abused and/or whom are disabled, both having to reject romantic prospects and being rejected as a romantic prospect hurts. I've been on both sides of the rejector-rejectee coin—I had to call the police on each ex after I broke up with him, and I'm a stigma in myself because of my disabilities and having been abused (verbally, emotionally, spiritually, mentally, and physically) in the past. Also refer to the point about societal rejection—I'm not the only person with disabilities (including mental illnesses) who's been seen as a romantic liability and/or undesirable.
4. Professional rejection—e.g., getting a book manuscript rejected (which just happened to me, and I'm trying to find out how I can improve and resubmit the manuscript), résumé rejections, and rejections that stem from societal rejections (e.g., Refer to the point about Dana Stubblefield's victim, whom was raped on the job that she finally found; and read some of Jeff Woodward's writings and writings that Jeff Woodward has shared—which prove my point that ableism is rampant in the workplace because it is rampant in society, despite that my family refuses to believe me).
5. Rejection by friends—or at least whom you thought were friends—and mentors—or at least whom you thought were mentors. Rejection, of course, includes betrayal—and one example of betrayal is Dr. Ben Carson's betrayal of African Americans by his endorsement of Donald Trump and slamming of Harriet Tubman's being placed on the $20 bill.

Most of the rejection types and examples thereof are bad rejections, although even the bad rejections—as hurtful as they are—have at least some good in them. e.g.:

1. Non Trumpites have found out just really how America's colors run or don't run—even if there's a silent majority whom won't speak against Donald Trump (and Donald Trump's friend Hillary Clinton).
2. People whose families rejected them sometimes don't even have to live in an increasingly-cruel and -miserable world, let alone among cruel and miserable families.
3. One finds out and/or is reminded of what true love is and what true love isn't.
4. One is forced to either carry on and/or even improve if doing so is possible.
5. If someone seems too good to be truly good, they may just be—e.g., Dr. Ben Carson has shown how much intelligence does not equal wisdom, and how the supposedly-outsider conservative and retired neurosurgeon-turned-aspiring-POTUS is really a Dixiecrat to the core—one can't be a true Republican and good role model for African-American young men and women if he supports Tammany-Hall Trump and Andrew Jackson over Harriet Tubman.

Some Examples Of Effects Of When Losses Of Relationships, Whether In Life Or Due To Death, Still Affect Someone After A Long Time

The reason that I write this entry, by the way, is because I'm thinking about—among other relationships that I've lost—a relationship with a dear friend and a writing mentor that I've lost—and one effect of that is that I can't finish the manuscript of the next book on which I'm working*. Losses of relationships like that can be paralyzing, and it's paralyzing in this case because he or she was one of the three friends whom inspired me to even write the book.

As far as other examples of effects because of other relationships which I've lost, and examples to which I'm sure others can relate:

1. Death of family members does indeed bring about the inability to know about and discover parts of yourself and your history. For example, I never got to know the Jewish Mary Trudnak Czarnecki (z"l) about whom I might've had a clue had I thought about staying in touch with her (e.g., That story that she told Mom about spitting on a neighbor's line-drying sheets would've been fully understood before had I know that she's an Ashkenazi Jew whom had the misfortune of living next to her shanda-fur-die-goyim in-law brother Susi, whom Granduncle Tony [z"l] called "an SOB" for understandable reasons. To spit re someone or something horrid is a minhag Ashkenazi, as I later learned, by the way.)
2. Per the example above, I also never knew that she died under horrible circumstances, and only after I reconnected with another relative find and figure out how horrid they were. Great-Grandma, I think, passed down much of my Yiddishkeit to me, whether she knew or didn't know that she did, by the way.
3. Even losses of toxic relationships and/or other relationships whose endings are not your fault can bring bad effects, such as apprehension about your reputation and the effects thereof. For instance, being stalked on even LinkedIn by the sister of my sister's ex boyfriend was not at all fun—that caused an exacerbation in my Depression which carried over into the first year of Reilly's being home. Also, I still wonder what lies the ex boyfriend's family are telling about me and who those lies have reached—for all I know, I could come into contact with an HR manager whom has been told that I'm a crazy troublemaker by the family, and he or she doesn't know that (for instance) the now-ex boyfriend was "reenacting" as a Nazi ("German soldier") and has some very-Anti-Semitic friends (one of whom directed a "Heil ******, b****" slur at me when I confronted him.).
4. Losses of relationships due or at least partly due to mistakes that you've made can have the same and/or similar effects as the losses of relationships for which you had and have no fault. I'm still dealing with, for instance, bringing up that another cousin's hospitalization is due partly to our assimilation—I should've known, e.g., that a certain family member would ignore that Ashkenazi Jewish systems are not designed to digest and process what treif food we've picked up eating over the years; and I should've known that this same family member would defend "Grandma" (to me, Great-Grandma) Gaydos re Vilmosz (z"l v'HY"D).

I could give more examples of relationship-loss types and effects thereof, though I've written enough to get my point across to you. Besides, writing all of this has a bad side, which includes distress from bad memories and a distress-affected IBS flareup.

*By the way, the first book can be looked at, at Amazon and MoreBooks.De. I've made nothing from them yet and don't want to do so until I'm sure that, e.g., I can pay my student loans off and have a secure future—being a living-at-home, single, disabled, and 26-year-old two-time-ex-girlfriend (with each ex boyfriend being men with whom I had to break up and on whom I had to call the police) sucks—nothing about, e.g., being almost $25K in student debt and a person with C.P. and comorbid conditions (including Depression) is glamorous. 

Part Of What's Exacerbated My Depression Of Late, And A Prayer Request

A few months ago, a family friend to whom I had not talked in a while reached out to me. Once he began to talking to me again, and after four to five years had passed, I began viewing him as a father figure, a writing mentor, and a friend whom is more dear to me than he'll ever know—"There are friends that one hath to his own hurt; but there is a friend that sticketh closer than a brother."

Needlessly to say, he became "a friend that sticketh closer than a brother". Then one day, he suddenly stopped talking to me. The only explanation was this, and it came quite a bit of time later—and remember that he is, or at least was, a writing mentor: "Going through a difficult time. Keep writing."

After that, a major news story broke; and I asked him if one of the parties whom was involved in the news-making situation was associated with him—and I received no response to that inquiry. In the next day and the following days, I was left to guess whether the news story had to do with him in even any remote way (e.g., if one of his family or friends of friend was involved), other news stories involved him, or anything else had happened. After all, what did (and does) "a difficult time" mean?

This family friend, father figure, writing mentor, and closer-than-a-brother friend of my own had reached out to me in the first place, and he ditched me without explanation. Given, among other factors, my C.P. and mental illnesses, his ditching of me was absolutely the last thing that I needed—or at least wanted, since only God ultimately knows why I needed it. I've also needed other ditchings as well, by the way, and only God has also known why I needed those—and one more-recent one came from an in-law cousin, might I add.

"The spirit of a man will sustain his infirmity; but a broken spirit who can bear?" That kind of broken spirit is what I've endured once again in the past few months—and as if OCD/Anxiety. Depression, ADD, and IBS weren't enough in of themselves; and only God ultimately knows why He's exacerbated them.

"I am the LORD, and there is none else, beside Me there is no God; I have girded thee, though thou hast not known Me; That they may know from the rising of the sun, and from the west, that there is none beside Me; I am the LORD; and there is none else; I form the light, and create darkness; I make peace, and create evil; I am the LORD, that doeth all these things.

"Drop down, ye heavens, from above, and let the skies pour down righteousness; let the earth open, that they may bring forth salvation, and let her cause righteousness to spring up together; I the LORD have created it. Woe unto him that striveth with his Maker, as a potsherd with the potsherds of the earth! Shall the clay say to him that fashioned it: 'What makest thou?' Or: 'Thy work, it hath no hands'? Woe unto him that saith unto his father: 'Wherefore begettest thou?' Or to a woman: 'Wherefore travailest thou?' Thus saith the LORD, the Holy One of Israel, and his Maker: Ask Me of the things that are to come; concerning My sons, and concerning the work of My hands, command ye Me. I, even I, have made the earth, and created man upon it; I, even My hands, have stretched out the heavens, and all their host have I commanded."

I know, too, that God's ways are not our ways, as Isaiah also speaks by the Holy Spirit. So, for example and as bad as this sounds, I don't know whether God reminds me of my friend on a daily basis to remind me to pray for him or to allow HaSatan to make fun of me (as He allowed HaSatan to torment and persecute Job, whom was already suffering with the question of whether his children loved God: "'It may be that my sons have sinned, and blasphemed God in their hearts.'")

It could also be—and this is where the "as bad as this sounds" comes into play—that God's making fun of me or punishing me for some reason that only He ultimately knows: "Search me, O God, and know my heart, try me, and know my thoughts; And see if there be any way in me that is grievous, and lead me in the way everlasting." Having my guesses about hurtful situations, what I've done or not done, etc. hurts; and even if I know and the person whom I've wronged or whom's wronging me won't tell me, that really hurts.

Incidentally (as the year went from 2015 to 2016), I saw another reminder of him, since I discussed genealogy with him and wondered if a name in his own family wasn't an allusion to this verse: "The name of the LORD is a strong tower: the righteous runneth into it, and is set up on high."

Please pray for me, pray for my friend, and pray for others whom need prayers on their behalf, meanwhile—may we all call on HaShem Yehovah, HaMigdal HaChazaq; and may Yehovah bring reconciliation or whatever is needed to be brought between me and my friend (אם ירצה, יהוה.), and may our friendship be almost as strong as Yehovah Himself.

My Closing Thought For the Night, And.....

I'm definitely thinking about certain people with this one—I could name names, too, though I'm hopefully too nice to do that. If you're worried that you're one of those people, you're most likely not one of those people; and if you're one of those people whom's blaming me re people whom've ditched me (despite that I'm imperfect and as human as anyone else), you're most likely one of those people—and of course you're, I'm guessing, not worried since you're blaming me.

I'm sure, by the way, that others with, e.g., mental illnesses and physical disabilities are thinking the same thought about certain people whom were (or maybe even still are) in their lives that I'm thinking about whom were and still are in my life—e.g., certain family members who've ditched me and would like to think that I'm eradicated from existence, let alone our common families' bloodlines, just because they've ditched; or they'd even like to affect people to think of me as different from whom I really am, and they do this by basically slandering and libeling me,

I made this with Powerpoint 2013, by the way.

A Reminder That A Cousin's Cousin Inspired Me To Give

I normally don't do this; so, bear with me:

To all of my Facebook friends and others, I'm asking you to think about this (as a friend of mine reminded me and others) for a second:

1. Among the strongest of people are those whom are also among the most sensitive of people—or at least the ones whom are willing to admit that they are sensitive and are willing to not desensitize themselves.
2. Many who at least try to be kind are also among the ones whom are usually the first ones to be treated unkindly. The reason for that is that unkind people like to take advantage of kind people and see how strong they really are—to them, sensitivity is weakness and/or a witness against them of their own weaknesses; and sensitivity, of course, includes putting the words "I want to talk about it [whatever 'it' is]"* into action.
3. Many who at least try to bear others' burdens are trying to do what someone refused to do for them—and frankly, they're hoping that someone will finally bear their burdens in turn (or at least that God will reward them for helping others)**.

If you find this reminder worth sharing, share it. If you don't find this reminder worth sharing, then decline to share it and leave it at that. Also, feel free to take this reminder and—for a lack of better wordage—modify it to put it in your own words, give your own examples that pertain to this reminder (See the asterisks.), and ultimately have it come from your heart.

Remember, too, that we're all imperfect; and many of us at least sometimes hurt others in the ways in which we ourselves were hurt, whether we realize or don't realize that we do—and I certainly grant that many others (for example, the aforementioned unkind people) do often, or even always, deliberately hurt others

* RIP Mary Trudnak Czarnecki (Those were her words to my aunt when she finally broke down. "No, no; it's okay—I want to talk about it."

(I wish that I knew and understood that that's why I knew such a vulnerable Great-Grandma Czarnecki when she was still alive—she was trying to be strong and hold her own for at least 73 years, 16 of them in which I was alive—she married Great-Granddad when she was 20-going-on-21 years old in 1934, and she died when she was 93-going-on-94 years. I was born in 1990 when she was 76-going-on-78 years old.).

** RIP Mary DeBoy Pundt (I only heard about her and never had the chance to meet her.).

Happy Mother's Day...

Powerpoint® 2013 and even Bing™ Clipart are good tools, by the way. 

A Sobering Reality That I've Have Relearned This Week

If you don't stick with someone in his or her bad times, you don't deserve to share in his or her good times. I'm not saying that I haven't been that undeserving person at times. Nonetheless, any person who won't stick with another in his or her bad times doesn't deserve to share in his or her good times. Also, especially those who don't have as many and/or heavy burdens to bear should be helping those who does who do have many and/or heavy-enough burdens to bear.

To think about walking away from people who walk away from me is sobering, and I have to walk away from a person to whom I am somehow a burden. Right now, I'm even thinking of the horror that my aunt told me about in regards to my Granduncle Tony when he snapped at Great-Grandma: "You're a burden!" That she was a burden wasn't the case: that Pop-Pop and others were burdens because they would not help Granduncle Tony help Great-Grandma was the case.

That's probably part of what killed Granduncle Tony (z"l), too: he was the only good son who could really help Great-Grandma (z"l), and few stepped up to help him help her. After all, the two other good sons were unable to help: Granduncle Francis ("Red") had been deceased since 1985 (and he had his own issues during his lifetime), and Granduncle Jim has had to devote a significant amount of his time to Jamie (or who else could and would? Then again, Jamie could've been in a Willowbrook. He wasn't, since Granduncle Jim and Grandaunt Annie didn't let Jamie's accidental overdose on codeine come between them and Jamie. After all, they understood that Grandaunt Annie's sister and the doctors tried to do their best when then-1.5-years-old Jamie was having seizures when his aunt was babysitting him. They, by the way, are an example of those who are bearing burdens—not Jamie himself, mind you, since Jamie is not a burden—they could've even sued or filed criminal charges against Jamie's aunt, and they decided to take the position that life happens and that those who tried to help Jamie had no idea that the codeine to which he is allergic would not help him.).

Being one of the few, if not the only one, who is bearing a burden can take a toll on the bearer in question—which is my point about part of what killed Granduncle Tony. Even as far back as 1964, he was the only one to help Great-Grandma—Pop-Pop was living in Glen Burnie with his wife and three children (one of whom was to be born in August 1965); Granduncle Red was living with his wife and two older children (with the youngest one to be born in 1967), and Granduncle Jim was stationed at Fort Meade. Only Granduncle Tony was there to help Great-Grandma especially after Great-Granddad committed suicide, and almost 50 years of being Great-Grandma's primary helper affected him to die at 68 years old of "chest pains" (as Dad related that Granduncle Tony started feeling to the point at which he needed to go to the hospital) and other issues.

Granduncle Tony, by the way, is, of course, not the only one who had to bear a burden alone—besides that Great-Grandma herself had to bear many burdens alone, others have had to bear burdens alone. Even myself, for another example—I've had to bear burdens alone or at least (at best) almost alone.

By the way, I wrote this primarily in regards to people (including family members) who have ditched me offline and online (and who would ditch me offline, as I can ascertain. After all, people online are reflections of themselves offline, including who they would be offline if they could get away with being so.). Now those people can surely know, if they didn't know, why I, for example, started that #unfollowforunfollow trend on Twitter: as I stated, any person who won't stick with another in his or her bad times doesn't deserve to share in his or her good times. Therefore, anyone in my own life who won't stick with me in my bad times doesn't deserve to share in any of times.

In addition, I want to thank my ditchers for showing me who you really are and not letting me find out later than I already did—and so much for the ones who (Jewish and gentile alike) claim to be fellow Christians and flout bearing others' burdens, since many of you (I suspect) also ditch others and will hear "I never knew you" when you cry out "Lord, Lord" to Yeshua (Jesus). I suppose that others will thank that ditchers for the same as well—and sadly, I can guarantee that some are thanking me for the same thing, and I need to do teshuvah for being a ditcher of those whom I have ditched.

By the way, please let me know if or remind me of when I have ditched you in bad times. I will try to be there to bear your burdens as best as I can from now on—after all, I do not want to adversely affect your life (including your health) in the way that others have affected mine or in the way that others (including, probably, I) affected Granduncle Tony's life and health.

My "PS" Status For October 28, 2013 (Cheshvan 22, 5773) at 1:37:57 AM EDT

I definitely went insane in describing how badly I need G-d to send me someone, my experience as a disabled Levite, &c.. I deservedly got a status unshared for that one, and I apologize for that. Meanwhile, to be fair, though, it does show you how serious the implications are considering that the disabled among my ancestors could not serve in the Temple (cf. Leviticus 21:17-24; and remember that Rosalia Dudayova Nagyova was a kohenet, and Johanna Hanzokova Foczkova was one if Helena Lazarova Hanzokova was one and perhaps a descendant of Ele'azar ben Aharon).

Also, consider how Avraham and Ya'akov—men who looked to the coming of the Messiah (quite technically, among the first Christians)—cheated on their non-disabled wives (Sarah and Leah, respectively. Avraham cheated on Sarah with Hagar, for example; and look who took three wives besides Le'ah instead of having the grace to annul his marriage to or divorce Le'ah when he realized that they were both tricked into taking each other instead of him being given Rachel. And none of those women were disabled—yet Abraham and Jacob cheated on them; and I'm descended from Leah's son Levi, and the Messiah made Himself to be descended from Levi and his brother Yehudah, but that doesn't make what avi Ya'akov did right.).

Do I feel encouraged, then? Not at all! I even asked another friend, when he said "I believe God will help you find that man that will be with you for the rest of your life.", "what if "the rest of [my] life" entail until he cheats on me for a younger, more-able woman and I commit suicide?"

In other words, I apologize for going insane and still hold that desperately needing prayer for G-d to send me someone isn't just smack talk with which I'm playing around—it has a lot of implications from me as a disabled Levite who's descended from at least one kohenet and can't guarantee that a Christian (including any given Messianic Jewish) man wouldn't cheat on her for even a younger, more-able woman, either.

My Facebook and Twitter Update For October 11, 2013 (Cheshvan 6, 5773) at 10:09 PM EDT

I'm just going to bed. It's obviously just not been a good day or a good week for me. As I said before, pray that I can put G-d (G-d willing) to the bachan (בחן; not the nasah [נסה]) and that G-d sends me the love of my life or someone better. I'm probably (as usual and again) the only one praying that I can put G-d to the בחן, and there I go again having to do all of the work; and I resent that I'm the one doing all the work again—G-d won't hear my prayers when few or no others are praying with and/or for me.

And some can think that I'm faking it or s***ing around, but they have no idea until they live with that which I've lived. Let me give you an idea in case you haven't been paying attention or even cared to do so:

1. Diplegic Spastia Cerebral Palsy
2. Obsessive Compulsive/Generalized Anxiety Disorder
3. Major Depressive Disorder
4. Attention Deficit Disorder
5. Irritable Bowel Syndrome
6. Being a divorce statistic without ever even having been married. Ready? My dad and both of his living siblings have all divorced and/or remarried; my mom and all but two of her living siblings have divorced and/or remarried; my Czarnecki great-grandparents had an extremely-miserable marriage; and my Green great-great-great-grandmother divorced—plus my Cassilly-Farrell great-great-great-grandparents separated at least twice. I've also been in two failed relationships—one from August 2004-May 2005, and one from February 2013-March 2013. Statistically, I am set to get divorced—and counting that men have left wives over Breast Cancer, Multiple Sclerosis, and other issues, you may gladly add in my CP, OCD/GAD, MDD, ADD, and/or IBS as all reasons why a guy wouldn't even want to date me. By the way, you may add in the CP alone. Who wants to deal with, e.g., the girl with the "casts on [her] legs", the "gimp", etc. if he certainly won't stay with a woman with breast cancer, Multiple Sclerosis, or anything else—even the common human condition known as getting old?
7. My sordid family history—please consider alone that my paternal grandmother's mother and her dad both betrayed relatives during the Holocaust. And what is my family under? A third-generation curse (counting from Great-Grandma Gaydos) or a fourth-generation curse (counting from Great-Great-Granddad Rusnak). "‘The Lord is longsuffering and abundant in mercy, forgiving iniquity and transgression; but He by no means clears the guilty, visiting the iniquity of the fathers on the children to the third and fourth generation.’" Not only Numbers 14:18 states this; and you may add in, e.g., Genesis 12:1-3 as well. Also please consider that I'm a bat-Anusim.
8. I am still in college and I am 23 years old.

I can add more, but I will sum up my life up for you with what eight points I've given:

I am the dirty little secret or (so to speak) elephant in the room about whom most people—even most people in my life over the course of my life—have been or are socially polite (and/or with whom they've dealt because they've felt that they've had to do so for whatever reason), who most people have hated or hate, and.or who many of most of the socially-polite and hating people wish to see dead. After all, I am the "gimp" with the "casts on [her] legs" who has more than the CP with which to deal—for example, four other conditions than the CP and being a never-married divorce statistic with two failed relationships at the age of 23.

As I have said, people don't think that I notice this s*** or want me notice what they really think of me—I am well aware of what I am and I know what people really think of me. I have also said that while things will get better if G-d is willing that they do so, He doesn't guarantee anything—He just promises what's in His will. I have furthermore said that G-d can beat what odds He's created, but He often doesn't—just, for instance, look at that I've already had two failed relationships at the age of 23 and as a descendant (not just a child, but a mulit-generational, multi-familial descendant) of divorce. Also, again, count that  CP, OCD/GAD, MDD, ADD, and/or IBS as all reasons why a guy wouldn't even want to date me,.since men have left wives over Breast Cancer, Multiple Sclerosis, and other issues.

As I have even furthermore said, I am certainly not the stupidest person or (so to speak) dullest bulb in the bunch, dullest knife in the shed, etc.. That's part of why I at least need some people to pay attention and, as I asked that more people do, pray that I can put G-d (G-d willing) to the bachan (בחן; not the nasah [נסה]) and that G-d sends me the love of my life or someone better.

But I'm not going to get a guy, let alone a good guy, right? There's the paradox: because of my CP alone—let alone my other conditions and sordid family history—I need a guy for practical purposes! Don't you get it?! That's why I need you to pray, pray, pray, and pray if you will do at least something for me—praying for me is a heck of a lot better than being socially polite about me or just dealing with (i.e., tolerating, putting up with) me, hating me, and/or wishing me dead (As I said, I notice what you really think of me; and to be more honest with you, some of you are affecting me to be driven to outright calling you morons—although I suppose that that's giving you too much credit! I should be calling the morons among you "fools"!).

By the way, I'm not Jesus (and I know that I'm not Jesus; much less Jeremiah, Job, Amos, Habakkuk, or any other person who has gone through worse pain than me); but my pain is not taken away or mitigated (at least in proportion, since G-d gives pain to each person his or her proportionality to how much he or she was created to handle if he or she could)—and what did Jesus say? "‘Assuredly, I say to you, inasmuch as you did it to one of the least of these My brethren, you did it to Me.’" and, conversely, "‘Assuredly, I say to you, inasmuch as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to Me.’ "

In conclusion, perhaps you will consider your own sakes if (and, for the fools, since) you won't consider what I need; so I'm giving you a chance to do that by quoting Jesus and reminding you that I am—believe me or not, and if I am nothing else to you or anyone else—one of the least of these. Save your own tuchuses and do something worthwhile for me—even if just for you in the end—for once instead of being socially polite toward/dealing with/tolerating me, hating me, and/or wishing me dead.

Also, as usual, ל'לילה ושבת טוב תכתבו. (although I know that have of you wish even the opposite for me). 

An Epiphany That Occurred To Me Only After My Last Blog Entry...

With All Due Respect To Survivors Of Suicide (Even Myself, You Have To Remember)...

I had to laugh in my head when someone talked about losing her friend to the "dark tunnel of suicide"--she, like others, talks about how suicide is "difficult" for the survivors. Survivors of suicide like her (even if they don't say it) also think about how suicide is selfish, etc..

Well, firstly, the "dark tunnel of suicide" wasn't that dark for him--he committed suicide! Besides, secondly, like he probably thought, I'm thinking more and more that I agree with the sentiments (and I've--when I've Googled "Why shouldn't I commit suicide?", for example--seen and/or picked up the sentiments) that:

1. Suicide may not be that damned selfish after all.
2. The survivors may be being the ones who are selfish--who are they really crying for, after all? (By the way, Wayman Tisdale did not commit suicide, but you get the point.)
3. Since people are complaining about population control, it wouldn't (or at least shouldn't) kill you (pun intended) if we kill ourselves, anyway. After all, you sure don't feel--or at least act like you feel--that losing us would kill you while we're still alive--or at least most of the time, you don't. In fact, you usually act quite the opposite way while we're alive--that is, that you'd even want to see us gone and are just too tactically polite to say that. Even, for instance, while the one person talked about how her loved one "was close to me and all his friends and family" and was a "great friend", the loved one sure didn't feel like he was--or why else would he have committed suicide? Or maybe he felt like he was on his end but not on his loved ones' ends--after all, why didn't he stick around if he truly felt like he was loved by his loved ones.
4. Since you don't care for or even want us around while we're around and alive, that we'd be no longer around or alive would be better for all parties. Besides, you can really put your sentiments behind your "I miss you when you're not around" and "I'll always love you" words when we're really not around.
5. Suicidal people and suicide committers may, in some senses, be ahead of their time. For example, my great-granddad committed suicide on the day that Mario Savio spoke and helped usher in Jacob's Trouble--and he had seen enough of Jacob's Trouble on the horizon in his day. By the way, in case anyone's asking, I did tweet that I gained a whole new respect for Great Granddad for that in a perhaps-perverse since.
6. Since, again, you don't care for or even want us around while we're around and alive, that we'd be no longer around or alive would be better for all parties. After all, if and/or since we're really that much trouble to you while we're alive and around, we'd be putting an end to both our and your miseries if we decided to commit suicide. Also, again, that'd solve your population-control issue.
7. Since we may be well ahead of our time and you don't want us around, quit your (for a lack of a better term and with all due respect) bitching--we're perhaps even escaping to Heaven. Even if we're not, we were predestined for Hell (where you at least surely acted like you wanted us, anyway). Regardless, we'd be cutting our days short--perhaps to your satisfaction, as you made it seem half of the time.
8. The only reason that we don't commit suicide is because we're too damned in dread of what would happen if we did commit suicide or--worsely--if we actually survived a suicide attempt and had dreadful consequences associated with our failed suicide attempts and survivals thereof (or therefrom--whichever; you get the point). 

So, give suicide commiters and those of us who've been suicidal--for good reason--a break. You didn't seem to care for your suicide-victim loved one when he or she was still here--or else he or she would still be here, because he or she would know that he or she had a friend who's even a sibling or even close than one. You don't seem to care for us now--in fact, you're sending us the same messages that you sent your suicide-victim loved.

And that's why I laughed--not because I thought that his suicide was funny, but because I thought that (as he must've thought or would think) she's a damned hypocrite for saying what she should've said and meant while he was alive. Had she truly meant all that she said now that he's been gone for two years, he would've never gone through that suicide attempt--even Jeremiah stayed alive because he had Baruch and Hanamel, and Elijah had 6,999 others .

So, with all due respect to survivors of suicide (including those who've been suicidal like I have), give suicide victims and those who've been suicidal (including yourselves if you've been suicidal) a break! At least if you give us a break, we'll stay around to at least make you selfish brats and hypocrites happy--even if you really don't care for us, and at least to prove that we're not selfish like you--nor would we actually be selfish if we decide to take ourselves out of your lives! 

Two Problems...

1. I wasn't making reading Scripture a priority in the recently-better times. Thus was fulfilled, "When you have eaten and are full, then you shall bless the Lord your God for the good land which He has given you." (Deuteronomy 8:10) and "When I have brought them to the land flowing with milk and honey, of which I swore to their fathers, and they have eaten and filled themselves and grown fat, then they will turn to other gods and serve them; and they will provoke Me and break My covenant." (Deuteronomy 31:20) You can see in the Book of Jeremiah, too, how I was handed over to my persecutors because I did not make reading Scripture in better times a priority.
2. I have 140 followers and 517 friends on my regular page, 201 subscribers on YouTube, 469 Twitter followers, plenty of Blogger readers, etc. (if one doesn't account for duplicates). Yet, this isn't translating into "Likes" on my public page. Thus, I have a really-shaky support network and a don't-know-what-to-do conundrum in the more-private sphere. I can't accept every friend request in the world, yet I can't get enough "Likes" (headscratcher).

Problem #1 I'm working on fixing. Problems 2a and 2b are harder to fix without your help.

More Proof That We're Jewish

I've posted Granduncle Tony's whole e-mail before. But I've (I think) hardly dissected and analyzed the letter as fully as possible. So, here's more analysis, as I gave to a friend per the seeming contradiction between an infrequent letter and a no-contact relationship:

Granduncle Tony did say, "Periodically a church pastor would run a heritage trip back to Poland for a group. Very few of those who immigrated would return. Occasionally someone "in the family" in America would join a relative for the return trip, Usually meeting the Polish or Slovak relatives for the first time and occasionally maintaining a letter writing relationship afterwards. This DID NOT happen in our family.

"There was not very much correspondence with the Polish family. Only an infrequent letter. There were no exchanges other than through the Polish Church which would have clothing drives and send clothes to Poland in general, but not to specific family members. Bertha's photos which came after the trips were the only contact until they asked for the deed to be changed in the mid 1960's."

I suppose that any letters either were letters from us that they refused to answer or letters from them that came through Bertha Wawrzyn.

As Granduncle Tony describes, "I never seen nor did anyone mention anything special brought from Poland. A friend from Sugar Notch, Mrs. Bertha Wawrzyn, visited Poland every few years to see her family and would visit the family while there. All she ever brought back were photos that she took of the Polish Czarnecki's (see earlier comments)."

Some Jews and gentiles did have the attitude of, "You can befriend them; but don't marry them, and don't believe what they believe." As far as I know, Bertha was a Catholic gentile, and we were obviously Crypto Jews--most of the family back home was openly Jewish and Non-Messianic Jewish.

This Fatass Needs To Lose Weight, and...

If you guessed that the fatass is me, you are correct. I told you that I don't sugarcoat about myself. I'm a foodie who's gaining a double chin; and while there's nothing wrong with being a foodie, there is something wrong with emotional eating, thinking about committing suicide again, and even being tempted to go out there and get pregnant just so that I can get all the love and attention that my cousin got at her baby shower (let alone all the love and attention that she gets, anyway. She again, though, comes from  FAIRLY-GOOD HOME AND HAS HAD ALL THE PRIVILEGES IN THE WORLD COMPARED TO ME.).

That someone has had all the privileges in the world compared to me sets them up for more privileges at least in this lifetime, though, is always the case. I even get shattered dreams or otherwise bad with the good. I'm not my cousin or a Krystal Keith who gets to have her cake and eat it, too; though I inadvertently ended up getting followers for Krystal on Twitter when I couldn't even get people to like my own Facebook page (in part, though I shouldn't be talking about them, thanks to bullies like Steve and Cathy Dallwig who indeed despise the poor and won't even reach out to help them; but for when they can reach out only to bully the poor when the poor rebuke them for not reaching out to them.).

What mazel! I get hatzlacha of being the fulfillment of this:

The poor man is hated even by his own neighbor,
But the rich has many friends.


Even many of my own "friends" hate me (And don't you lie. I know that you do and just want to not admit that you hate me.). At least if I lose some weight, though; maybe even become a little underweight as I was at one time again, I'll at least be loved for my skinniness-- and I'll have a reason to be a foodie again.

So I Read A Friend From A Letter, And...

Just pray for me and pray for the friend. To make a long story short, because of my OCD/Anxiety/Depression/unmedicated-mild ADD, possible Aspbeger's, Diplegic Spastia Cerebral Palsy, and "friends" and family either abandoning or even outright abusing me at various points in my life; I realistically have ups and downs, trust issues, etc.. I'm not going to trust everybody (Don't ask; I've already learned not to trust everybody, long story short. There's wisdom in wariness.) and I'm not going to stop speaking the truth (or at least trying to speak the truth) on my family and other people, and religion and other matters.

But from now on, if you abandon or even abuse me, I won't get too mad about it; I'll just let whatever you do against me be your own damned problem. I'll let that I'm so used to being abandoned and abused help me to not even be phased or surprised anymore by any abandonment and abuse that I receive. And as I've told some people; when you need me, I might not be there for you because I might not be able to be-- and then what are you going to do?