One flew O're the cuckoo's Nest Part 2

It was a family of 5 who's father had a daughter from a previous marriage and the mother had 2 son's from a previous marriage. He was chasing schemes to make millions, she was into meditation and quick sex with other guys. The children were 12, 9 and 4. They had no clue how to tie shoes, button or snap things and dinner with a fork was alien to them. I stayed there a year and during the time the best friend of the millionaire wannabe would come down from Kansas and, because I believed at the ripe old age of 21 that I was measured by how much sex I was willing to have, the BFF and I would have sex in my bedroom way in the back of the house. Soon my best friend found herself pregnant and decided to keep the baby and raise it as her own. To do this she wanted to enlist me as her housekeeper and subsequently her babysitter. The offer of $20 more than I was getting in my current job was enough to make me move in with her. I soon found out that I had been duped and would never see a penny. I worked at Taco Bell until the baby was born and then quit to help with the baby. During this time I met and slept with any number of men thinking that they found me attractive and sensual. The all had different ideas: one said he wanted to know what it was like to screw a fat chick, one said I was a convenient place to relieve his stress. Every man I slept with was another affirmation that I was not worthy of love or respect. My value was found in my willingness to sleep with so and so.

My friend married and moved her her new husband and the baby to another apartment across town. I was left in a two bedroom apartment with only my bed, my clothes and a can opener. Over a two year period I moved into a smaller apartment then starting working for my mother as her secretary, became a foster parent to rescue my friends daughter who was molested by her step father and the roommate. She tried to tell her mother and her mother denied it all and figured that she would teach her a lesson by forcibly inserting her dildo into this 8 year's vagina. This only served to make her daughter very angry and when she became "too much to handle" her own mother sent her to Child Protective Services. She was placed in my home and I raised her for 2 years before the state decided that the allowable time for separation had come and they placed her back in her mothers home.  I found out some time later that the daughter had been routinely subjected to mental and physical abuse and consistently told that if her mother had to make a choice between her daughter and her husband, her husband would always win. This precious gift from God was forced to fend for herself, and after graduation she went into the Air Force. During that time she accepted that she has always had a thing for strong willed red heads and embraced her homosexuality. Some years later I lost my two best best friends from high school to aids, my best friend (above) severed ties with me because her husband was jealous of our relationship. I didn't see her for nearly 6 years. I walked through life alone until I met my husband. We dated for a red hot 3 week period and asked me to marry him and I was head long into the next phase of my tired life.

Today I sit here still amazed that I had to endure so much of the self inflicted stress and even more of the external stresses of having to realize I served a purpose of procreation and now that I gave him 2 son's my job was downsized to working mom, paper of bills, etc. I lost the pleasure of seeing my son's grow, their first word, the first step, their first lost tooth. It didn't feel cool that I had to work and he got to stay home. I was living in Tempe just trying to survive. Everything that I did I did for the good of my family. It seemed natural to do it all, it seemed logical to do it perfect. What I did not know was that every event, as common as they were, blended from one to the next with no down time. I never ever had a chance to work through the original problem before the next one set in. I got comfortable with the lie I told myself that this is how a mom and a wife does it. The only way a woman can truly show her love and devotion is take tackle every decision, every event. To organize every detail and aspect of her life and that of her family's life and, in doing so I thought I would find my worth. Today I can tell I never did. As part of my 4 day long stay at the OCC I had to relive all those failures, all those moments in my life I turned to someone else to define me, all the times I allowed an event to define me and ultimately design my future. In facing them I had see find ways to understand that they do not define me, the do not design my future unless I let them. I had to let go of every lie I was told by others and the lies I told to myself. I had to let go of the anger I had for the entire world who I often asked help from and was just as often found the out to lunch sign. I was diagnosed as having PTSD with severe anxiety and manic depression. Under the circumstances I can definitely see where that could happen.

Today I am a new person. Feeling much better than I did even yesterday. Thank god for Lorazepam! This is gonna be a work in progress. My husband is sure to fall into auto pilot habits. I felt them yesterday as he attempted take me back down to the bottom of the well. When it wouldn't work, he started acting anxious and said things like I can't stand being her with you parasites when it still didn't work he had other choice than to suck it up and move on. My primary doctor is disgusted with Walter, my psychotherapist wondered why I hadn't killed him yet, the people at OCC asked if I had a gun that I could shoot his balls with, the various medical professionals all agreed that I am NOT crazy, this isn't something that I made up, it's real and it really sucks. I am giving myself 30 days during which time I continue taking meds, seeing my "shrink"  doing my kundilini Yoga and journaling daily. No matter what happens at the end of 30 days I want to be ready...ready to face it and eager to move past it into the next phase of my life. I simply cannot allow any other human being to pull me into that dark dank place at the bottom of the well.  I have lost my dream of a happy marriage with a husband that loves me. Yet I also know that I can't have lost something I never had to begin with.

THANK YOU DEAR READERS FOR ALL YOUR GOOD THOUGHTS, YOUR LOVE AND CARE DURING THIS DIFFICULT TIME. IF I HAD NOT HAD SOME OF YOU AS FRIENDS ALREADY I WOULD NOT HAVE SURVIVED AND THIS BLOG WOULD BE VERY DIFFERENT. YOUR KINDNESSES ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED!

One flew O're the cuckoo's Nest Part !

Well my dear readers. I have much to share. I hardly know where to start. My life turned into the deserted gas station just off the side of the road and getting out of the car placed me squarely into the Twilight Zone.  If you read my last blog you have the foundation for this story. It begin when I spent four days talking with my husband, attempting to either work through our devastation or agree to divorce. I also tried to elicit some empathy of his part regarding my current emotional state of being. Every single turn, it was more of the same. I wanted more of him home, he wanted never to be home. His basic attitude was that he could do whatever he wanted because he's a grown up. I didn't have much to say about it and even I did he wasn't listening so leave him the fuck alone. I knew last weekend that he would be meeting with his "skank" (his word not mine) and wouldn't be home until the following day. As the clock silently ticked away the hours my anxiety grew and grew and where I felt strong earlier in the day, my anxiety took over and would not let up. My chest always felt warm and tight, I wanted to cry ALL the time, I had not slept in 36 hours, hadn't eaten in 48. Each hour that he should have walked through the door but did not, the steel grip of anxiety and jealousy gripped me even tighter. All I could think of was him and her smiling and laughing and being together. Every passing hour brought new thoughts of their sexual encounters and what my husband was sounding like during. I agree with you now that was pretty silly but at the time it was the thoughts that had consumed me. Little by little my self confidence, self esteem, my sanity all slipped away. Making it worse was that that morning he came into my bedroom hugged and kissed me said he never meant to hurt me AND would not be coming home that night. The swirling mass of total "fuck you" just kept swirling until I was completely lost somewhere inside the funnel of manic depression.

I journal-ed but still could not find a foot hole to climb out. In my mind all I could see what the last 20 years of my devotion, the last 20 years of working solo on fixing my problems and his, 20 years of extremely hard work just got tossed into the smoldering fire. I found a piece of glass and was surprised how oddly shaped it was, looked like the shape of Texas. Since the pills were not working, maybe the glass would. I even tried the cut through my wrist and discovered that more pressure was necessary so I found random spots of my arm and hand to discover just what amount of pressure I would need. I found the sting of success as a relief of some pain. Somehow the sting of the glass cutting through my skin made my inner pain feel tolerable.  Then as the night wore on and I had nothing to do but journal and listen to my empty house and think about why it was empty, I decided to carve the words  I NEED 2 DIE on the inside of my left arm. I had come to crossroad in my life and I saw nothing good at either direction. Pain to be alive, pain to die, pain to look at my husband, pain to leave my children, pain pain pain. The need to die was great because in my head I had lost EVERYTHING and 20 years had just become a wasted effort on my part. The pain and the problem causing the pain was too big for me and I was no longer strong enough to hold my head up high.
All the insecurities I have ever had as a child and an adult, every lie I knew I had been told, every betrayal I ever felt came crashing around me ears as I sat in my bed crying and wishing my husband would come home.     I carved deeper and deeper so that the blood would form and nice crust and then a scare. If I made it through the night I wanted the reminder of what I felt and I wanted my husband to never forget.

I don't know if any of you have ever felt that low, that tapped. The best way I can describe it is

being at the bottom of a very deep well and no matter how hard I strained, I could not see daylight. When my husband came home several hours later than he was supposed to I showed him what I had done and he rushed me off to the hospital.  I was checked in, asked questions and everything I ha on was stripped away from me. No pants, shoes,underwear, or shirt. Just a hospital gown. I spent the night in something called ED Annex when I soon learned that it was the place for the drunks to sober up and be released or sent to "OCC" They gave 2 different types of pills that were supposed to knock my ass out but I ended up sit in the middle of my bed just thinking and realizing the severity of my current state of being.  As dawn broke I was transferred to a facility called O'Riely Care Center ( OCC )  where I had pictures of my arms, my tattoos, moles etc taken. We did some basic intake questionnaire and I was shown to my room.  Stark, cold, and no one waiting for me there. I had my own bathroom and a walk in shower with a shower chair. I was taken on a tour of the facility and introduced to the 13 other sad sacks there. I was provided a sandwich for breakfast lunch and dinner until I was later given a menu. I choose the following days' meals and then was given the rules of existence: no smoking, no visits until 430pm and until 545pm . Attend every group, check out books, go to yoga classes. Calls outside to family and friends were limited to 10 minutes. I was finally given my street clothes because they didn't have big enough uniforms to fit me. These uniforms consisted of dark blue scrub pants, a light blue scrub top and if you were cold you got the dark blue scrub jacket. Every one was issued a pair of yellow socks with little smiley faces on then. In my room was a supply of soap, tooth brush, toothpaste  a comb, mouthwash, and shampoo.

The long and the short of this story is that through adjusted medications and an added medication for anxiety, I found out that I was suffering from PTSD which I thought was reserved for war veterans. It and in was explained to me that since I have had stress in abundance from age 5+ on, and in an abundance of varying stages my body's trigger was stuck on stress.....it never had a chance to reset because I went from stress to stress thinking I was safe again but wasn't. I am a molest survivor, I had the worst possible childhood one could imagine, I was beaten within an inch of my life sometimes for the whim of it and sometimes because I had actually been bad, my parents fought and my father was violent one minute and tender the next, my new brother got a fever that affected his brain and speech so I was frequently left to my own devices, my second brother was the pride and joy of my mother and now I was ignored again. When my parents divorced I was instantly engaged in the raising and caring for my brothers who were teenagers at the time and the house work and the food prep. I fell into the world of make believe (drama) as a way of escaping my pain and feelings of guilt. My mother was working but she was also dating and there long nights where she wasn't home until very late, if at all. I got kicked out of her house and had to live with my dad and his new wife. Shortly thereafter my 1st brother was kicked out and he also lived wit my dad and step mother.  These parental units are devout Baptists and just like before we were made to go to church 3 times on Sunday ( including Sunday school) and once of Wednesday. My dad later took a job position in Santa Barbara and announced that my belongings had been delivered to my new location. My brother would be going to California with them but not me. The lady I lived with had piles and piles or papers all over her house. She claimed they belonged to her son who had recently died but looking back on it I would have to say that she was a hoarder. Roaches would scatter in the kitchen when the lights came on. Finally my best friend said she had her own apartment and we could live together. I later had my mother inform me that she had found a job for me as a housekeeper and they were expecting me in a hour.

My chalk line drama

                                                 
As many of you know I will be going through a HUGE life changing event. Many of you also know how heart broken I am about it all.....I am still pretty raw but just for today I am strong and focused.

I've been married to my husband for 19.5 years....if you count the very short dating scene we've been together for 20 years. My husband is very uncomfortable being affectionate....I could never hang on his when he dated, when we were in public he was either ahead of me or behind me. I always chalked it up to "shy" During my pregnancy with #1 son we completely avoided me at every chance he had. Right at first I believed the story which was he didn't want to hurt the baby, but he still refused to kiss me, feel the baby move and sex was out of the question. Since I was pregnant soon after we married, I chalked it up to him not knowing how to be a husband before he had to learn how to be a dad. At that time I had a minor telemarketing job and he was in Insurance sales. Because neither of us could keep up on the rent, by the time our first born was 4 months old, we lost our apartment and lived in a car for a short while before I gave in and went to his mother for a roof over our heads. During the 11 months we lived with her I held 3 different telemarketing job which gave me the option of staying at home. Not long after we moved into her home, I found out I had an ectopic pregnancy and was a day, if not hours, away form certain rupture and death.

Fast forward......I found a telemarketing job that advanced me from telemarketer to office manager in charge of telemarketers. My boss then had decided to open an office in Tempe and asked if I would accept the promotion. I knew my husband hated Tucson so I accepted the position and began the move. The day that we began the drive up to Tempe our first born had a very high fever and was very sick....he stayed in my lap sleeping during the whole trip. By the time I arrived in Tempe and began to unload the U-haul, I discovered that my hubs was overdue....we didn't have cell phones then so I couldn't call him to get an "ETA"....Walter had lost his vigor for insurance and was unemployed. This made me sole breadwinner and responsible for rent, food and all utilities. Though I was making quite a bit of money it soon got to where, again, we got evicted. In fact of the 8 years we lived in Tempe, Walter had 3 jobs none of which were helping me keep us afloat. I got pregnant with our 2nd son and was determined to make it work...."for the kids". One day he casually mentioned to me that he was bleeding from his rectum....naturally I panicked and thought the worst. I offered to take him to the ER or make an appointment with his to see a doctor. Every option and suggested was met with a no. One one particular day I received a phone call from a woman who asked how Walter's doctor appointment had gone. I didn't know what to tell her because 1) I didn't know he had had an appointment and 2) how the hell did she know and I didn't? That was the (first) straw that broke the camels back. I took our sons and high tailed it back to Tucson....on Christmas eve of 2003. Long story short he ended up feeling lost and remorseful about his treatment of me, said he wanted to come home and  the rest is history.

Fast Forward.....We bought a house, he bought a car, I had a meager job at a pet clinic and he was finding a niche for himself in car sales. Soon he wasn't making enough because the economy took it's first dump and his car was always up for Repo but each month he would ask me to call the lender and "work yo magic baby". One morning we understood that my magic wasn't enough to save the car. The tow truck driver was nice enough to allow us to get the stuff in the car that belonged to us. Now we both had jobs and no transpo....I was close enough to my job that I could walk, his on the other hand required him to walk a partial distance and then bus the rest of the way in. I decided I needed more money coming into the house, so after careful planning I began my own home based business and it was glorious! Money kept rolling in sometimes faster then I could get to it and at one point I was sleeping while still making money. It was also during this time that all the promises and agreements that hubs had made to me were burned and I was left feeling alone, unloved and neglected. It was very apparent that he was jealous of me making more money than him at the time and his back biting method it to loudly and at great length attacked my business model which he felt was not enough or smart, he attacked my method of attracting new business, he attacked my way of insisting that I be paid in one of two ways, he attacked me for taking  time to grieve my best friend's death (if I was grieving I was leaving money on the table). I discovered someone online through my MySpace account ( yeah I know...lamo!) He lived in Sweden and he would call me nearly every day and we would talk for hours. He whispered all the right things, made me laugh, told me I was important.....stupidly because I didn't want my husband to think I was cheating I told him about my friend.....BIG MISTAKE! Christmas morning 2009 he cracked me a good one in front of our kids. I knew then that I should leave but I also knew that he really wasn't okay with my friendship and thus deeply hurt. I forgave and tried to move forward.

Last weekend we had a chat, hubs and I. Like I always do I wanted to fix what he said was broken. The last thing he said to me a week ago today was "love ya Omie" and off to work he went. Prior to this conversation  he kept acting weirdly. I found a wrapped condom on the front porch, a son had mentioned he found a unwrapped condom in the front seat, hubs would text his "buds" for hours, when he got a call he would suddenly go to another room, he was going to work earlier and staying later.....nothing added up in my mind and so I was prepared to dike it out with him for the truth. Alas he never showed up and when I woke up Sunday morning the car (the one in our names) was missing. I panicked again......maybe he was dead? Maybe he got busted for drinking and driving? Maybe he's with another woman? I called his phone 62 times and texted him 5 times thinking that he was ignoring my calls. I was advised to call 911 but because I have some legal matter's still pending I could not call. 0940 he rolls in skinnin and grinnin and acting like nothing was wrong. Said he was "up all night partying" and naturally I lost it. Every painful emotion I have kept tucked inside, every disappointment I overlooked, every fight, every unkind word, everything just kicked me in the twat! As I tried to regain composure I happened to look at him and he was staring at me like he would if he was watching a b-ball game....just waiting and watching....no remorse....just staring at me arms crossed over his chest, asking why I threw my glasses at him?  When I got to a place emotionally that I could talk to him I asked if it was another woman? His words were "Omie, I told you there is no her, I was out with my buds. I never meant to hurt you"....still not believing him as soon as he took a shower I snatched his phone scrolled through his text file and there for anyone to see were pictures of himself addressed to "Angela" and the words she wrote were " I had fun last night"

As of today he's asked me to give him 6 months to "figure things out". His intention is that he will continue to "do her" and if he doesn't come home one night I'll at least know why. He's gone around the bush several times and always ends up at the same place "this is your fault Omie...you won't have sex with me. A wife is supposed to have sex with her husband. You're not enough of a woman for me" I have also found his Zoosk page and I am amazed at the lies he used in his dating profile. He is 44 he is 47. He never graduated college and has told me and our son's several times that that is why he is so hard on them about the importance of a good education. When I mentioned to him that Angela was seeing him based on lies and inaccuracies he said he's have to change that. Last night he was online. He claims that because he doesn't know how to log off it shows he's always online. This morning however his profile shows "recently online"............what bothers me the most is not that he's cheating. This day was bound to come. What bothers me is that he is still lying, still acting as if I wasn't already wise to him, still seeing her or someone else for that matter, and he just doesn't have clue one! No respect for me, for Angela, for his son's who are watching him and also for himself. No regrets appear to be present for the damage he is continuing to do, no remorse that he's living a social life that upsets his son's, no regrets that they have lost all respect for him and have told him as much. He continues to behave as if he NO responsibilities at the end of the day.

Folks I would be lying if I didn't mention that yes, twice now I've swallowed enough pills to end the suffering. I'd lying if I said I was disappointed that God made me wake up. I won't make excuses for what I did because when it comes down to brass tacks, he would have won and I would have no chance to reteach my son's that this way of acting is NOT manly and not respectful. So I know that I have still more work to do. Without divulging any details I can say that I will come out of this disaster cracked, bruised, worn out and pissed off but I will come out alive and on top (pardon the pun). I am holding on to every detail I can find about him, I am holding on to every sadness he caused me, every neglectful act he made towards me, I am holding on to every sleepless night and every night I cried myself to sleep, I am holding on to every pit of despair that I allowed him to dump me into, I am holding on to every lie, every broken promise, every negative I can draw from so that I can move forward and not fall into the "I feel sorry for you" and end up shooting myself in the foot. 20 years has been a waste in that my health declined in part because of hubs but I will regain some dignity knowing that I am about to deliver a swift axe of judgement.

To all who listened to me bitch, to all who talked me through the depression I can not begin to explain how dearly I appreciate and love you. You , along with the support of family saved my life... oh! And other than the smiling black man, none of the pictures in this post are from my files.

How to survive kindergarten... or PMS will get you expelled

I have been thinking about the recent shootings from December and the "anniversary" of Gabby Giffords' shooting 2 years ago. My mom and I were talking about it last month and her thoughts on the topic are (paraphrased) while the violence is in some cases increasing, our awareness of the violence is increasing since we are a 24/7 society.  It would make my husband cringe to know that she and him actually agree on this point, LOL.  Be that as it may, the last few months of 2012 were undeniably messed up and we are discussing more ways to control gun violence and how doing so would infringe upon our 2nd amendment rights. Each time I privy to a debate which I am involved or I'm listening to, the one thing I hear is that we all want the same thing: Our children to be safe while in school. 

I saw a documentary this morning about "The War on Kids" which is about the comparison of public schools to prisons. Admittedly I missed the first 20 minutes of the movie but I found that as I watched the plot unfold, I became angered at the points to ponder. The consensus was that the public school systems have become comfortable in what I call drill sergeant mentality. The powers that be decided that the best way to protect our children was to adopt a zero tolerance policy with drugs and weapons. The problem is that now kindergartners are being suspended for playing harmless games of cops and robbers and using their fingers for "guns". Teen girls who get punished for carrying Midol. In my mind the question has to be asked: how did we get to this point? Where did we stop teaching our kids the basic skills of math, reading and writing and when did we become okay with security guards at every door, security cameras in every hallway and classroom and the entertainment of the idea that teachers be allowed to carry guns?  I am a parent and I have one last kid in school. The same high school that "lost" my first born is the same school that now is entrusted to teach my 2nd son. On the eve of the first day of school for my 2nd son, I sent an email to the principal of the school and basically told her that she fucked up with my first and I would be watching to make sure she didn't do the same thing with my 2nd.

(Long story short the school had my oldest both on a junior roster and a sophomore roster. They reported him absent for his AIMS testing. I reported him missing with the police. Although the police officer was standing in the school office asking students and staff about the whereabouts of my oldest, no one bothered to verify if he was in fact taking the test....right where he was supposed to be!)



But I digress. The movie uses "Lessons" as points to ponder.For instance: the use of security cameras as a means of providing eagle eyed security in school rooms and hallways. This is supposed to prevent another Columbine from ever happening again.......yet, as the film points out, the entire carnage was caught on security cameras. With each "lesson" was the pros and con's of the knee jerk responses we keep imposing on our kids under the idea of school safety. At one point the viewer watched as a variety of public buildings were shown and in the background were the voices of grader school kids all shouting either SCHOOL or PRISON. Each new building type was decided by the children based on it's outward appearance and the very last building was a multilevel building with bars on every window, tall iron fences surrounding the property and barbed wire curled along the edges of the iron fences. Looking very much like any standard issue prison.......but it was a school. The film suggests that school children are losing their basic human rights and that when they stand up and voice their independence we label them as defiant and put them on behavior modifications drugs. All of the drugs that we use to "control" ADD or ADHD have serious side effects and those children who are cycling off he drugs are at greater risk of psychotic episodes.

When I first moved from Tempe to Tucson, both my children were having a tough time adjusting. My oldest was having a especially hard time, and rightly so. His parents had separated and through no choice of his own he was uprooted and made to go to a new school with new teachers and make new friends. He struggled with homework, he fought against having to do it and it was a nightmare to get him to do it. He was presenting the signs of ADD so I finally took him to a doctor. This doctor told me he was addicted to sugar and everything would be better if I cut him off sugar and radically changed his diet. Not satisfied I took him to another doctor and his diagnosis was ADD and wanted to put him on Ritalin. I refused and ultimately made my life a living hell when I remained steadfast in my conviction that I would not put him on medication. Once I realized that his behavior was normal and approached him from a different angle things started to fall in place. I also did some research and discovered other and more gentle ways of treating ADD such as a combination of Omega oils and vitamins. My initial response was that it couldn't hurt and it seemed to make a huge difference.

I leave you with this.........

It seems to me, as it did to the producers of this film, that what we are doing simply is not working. Most, if not all of the actions we've taken is nothing more than a knee jerk response to a particular tragedy. As a parent I want to know that my son will go to school and make it home safely. I want to know that the school will take every precaution to protect him while he is under their care. I am no different than any other parent who feels the same. In 2009 when this movie was first released, schools had begun to lose sight of their true purpose: reading writing and arithmetic. Current events show that it's gotten worse in the last 3 years.  It's not only the public schools which have failed our children, it is us as well. Somewhere along the way we allowed schools to take over raising our children, we agreed with the philosophy that prison type buildings and drill sergeant mentality was the best use of staff time and our children's time. Somehow we said that children with post traumatic stress disorder was better than no children at all. We decided that zombie kids was proactive parenting.  Clearly what we've been doing isn't working. To continue doing the same thing and expecting different results is in itself insanity. I don't know what the answer is but I do know that education starts first at home. In today's world we have to teach our children how to protect themselves. How to "survive" school and where to go or who to go to when the proverbial shit hits the fan. Above all we, as parents, must truly be proactive.  No, I do not want my son to learn about drugs from his friends, especially the one's the use drugs. No, I do not want my son to be part of the crowd that thinks guns are cool. But I also do not want my son to be expelled from school because he jokingly threatened his friend with a chicken nugget or go to jail because he has benedryl in his backpack for his hives. If you wouldn't stand for being watched all day, if you wouldn't allow anyone to force you into taking mind numbing drugs, if you would not allow your civil rights and liberties to be messed with-----------

Why would you expect your son or your daughter to?  Find the full video here >>>> War on Kids

A Sign of The Times

I read a twitter post regarding Sagittarius: we are very protective of those we love. Truer words could not describe me! It got me thinking.....is it true of only one sign or is it true of certain people? Astrology is a taboo subject for some Christians believing that it's the work of Satan and anyone who uses it is doomed. Despite my upbringing, I remain on the fence about it being devil's work. I think that the things that scare normal people are the things that end up being of Satan as a means of avoiding the topic. Much like when a parent tells their child about what happens to bad children in hopes of eliciting good behavior.
             
According to wikipedia: "Astrology, in its broadest sense, is the search for meaning in the sky". There is some evidence that searches began as early as 25,000 years ago. The whereabouts of Jesus was made known to the wise men as the followed a star. The Mayans had everyone in this time scared of the end of time as predicted on an incomplete calendar that was based on "celestial cycles". Based on the alignment of the planets and constellations at the time of our birth, we inherit certain character traits such as Leo or Capricorn, etc. For instance: Sagittarius is a fire sign, my ruling planet is Jupiter (which explains my obsessive fascination with this planet) and I can be overly expressive and easily burned out. According to the Chinese Zodiac I am the Rat (lovely!) and I am clever and have a knack for cleanliness. However, I do not lack concentration or stability but I am obstinate but not selfish. Honestly, there are parts of me in nearly every version of both the classical zodiac and the Chinese zodiac. And I'd venture to say that you might see yourself the same way. 

I'll leave you with this.....

Science has proven that we are all made of the same elements as the stars. There is no denying that things happens when the sun is active, the moon is full,or mercury is in retrograde. The Mayans got a lot right using celestial cycles. Whether you believe in astrology or not, we stand to learn great things by using the tools of the ancients.The characteristics that we associate with certain signs may turn out to be nothing more than a set of behaviors our teachers ( parents, grandparents etc) deemed as acceptable or not. They do not nor should they "define" us. I believe that when we stop labeling the things we don't understand as scary or evil, we open our minds to things that can enhance or enrich our lives............
  today's winning numbers are 
10-25-39-3-7-12-45  ( Happy New Year! )