Why I Haven’t Been Writing

It has been a tough time the past couple months. I have been so uninspired, so unmotivated in my writing and I just had to take some time away. I want to explain what has caused this feeling of not wanting to write.

First off, I have a lot going on in my personal life. I mean, who doesn’t? It’s just been harder to deal with recently. I don’t want to burden anyone with my issues because we all have them and mine are nothing special. I also don’t want to complain because there are lots of other people who have it worse than I do.

However, I’m just going to touch on a few things that I have been struggling with just so you all get an understanding of how I’m going to try to fix it all. Make sense? I hope so.

The biggest thing I’m most stressed about is money. Of course. As I’ve said before in a previous post I lost my job at the end of the year last year and I haven’t had one since. We were doing well on just my husband’s income for a while but now things are getting tight and I’m having to look for a job, which is proving to be more difficult than I thought it would be. It stresses me out. We are lucky to have family that helps us but there’s only so much they can do for us and I hate that they have to do that for us.

Aside from our financial troubles I have a small business that I am trying to grow and it is not growing quickly. That’s also frustrating because it could help so much if it would just take off but I understand these things take time. I’m just impatient.

The stress of these things of course are enough but I also think I have fallen into a rut with my blog. I think I figured out that there are a couple things I’m doing wrong.

1. I have a posting schedule. After reading my friend Tom’s post Why I Blog Once A Week I realized I needed to post less. I felt like I was constantly having to come up with post ideas and it was draining my creativity. I think I need to let go of the schedule. I think with the set days I feel like I have pressure to post something on those days and I find myself scrambling to get a post up sometimes and it’s not even a good one because I don’t put much effort into it, I just wanted to get something up. I think if I just started posting once a week I could put out more quality content.

2. I have a list of topics. I think topic ideas are great because sometimes you don’t know what to write about. But the list I have has dates attached to them, meaning that is what I have planned to write for that day. I think I was setting myself up for failure that way. By seeing that list I started to feel my creative juices drying up. I started this blog to talk about my writing progress and to share stories I’ve written or my opinion on a certain topic or book reviews. There’s a lot of stuff I’ve written lately that just hasn’t been about that and I’m bored. I think if I just keep that list for when I run out of things to write about and not make it what I will write about I’ll feel more inspired and spontaneous with my writing and it will be better and I’ll be happier with it.

I got so much good advice on my post about taking a break and I appreciate it so much. I think with the decision to post just once a week I’ll feel happier with my blog and it will mean more to me. (I still might throw a bonus post in there every now and then, if I feel compelled to do so.) Thank you all for the kind words, encouragement and understanding.

cheerful-close-up-coffee-208165.jpg

Photo credits: Pixabay from Pexels.

It’s Been Rough…

I don’t know what has been going on with me but mentally I have been feeling so unmotivated. I seem to have these moments a lot lately and it takes a while to shake it off. I especially haven’t been feeling much like writing. I look at my list of topics and none of them excite me. Maybe I should just take a break for a while. I have a few scheduled posts that will go up soon but I’m going to just see what taking some time away will do for me. Hopefully I’ll miss writing and come back. Bye for now.

My Favorite Serial Killers: “The Co-Ed Killer”

It may sound morbid to say I have favorite serial killers, but I don’t mean it in the sense that I like the way they killed or that they exist at all. I just find them fascinating. We as humans have rules that we like to keep in order to feel safe, rules that respect the lives of the other people around us. When people decide they are above those rules or that those rules don’t apply to them we question their sanity. How did they get this way? Were they biologically destined to be different or did the environment they live in make them become unstable? There is a lot of discussion among psychologists and psychiatrists about these very questions.

Serial killers have been a subject of interest for decades. I’ve actually made a few friends thanks to my obsession with them. Over the next few months I’m going to discuss serial killers I find especially interesting and I thought I would start with the one I find the most fascinating: Edmund Kemper III. Also known as the “Co-Ed Killer”.

220px-Kempermugshot

Note: There is discussion of murder and sexual assault that may make some readers uncomfortable. Please read at your own discretion.

Edmund Kemper III was born in December 1948 in Burbank California. His murders took place from 1964 to 1973. They were happening during the same time as two other serial killers were at large which caused the Los Angeles area to become known as the Murder Capitol of the world.

Ed’s parents did not have a happy marriage. Ed’s mother was verbally abusive towards his father and his father finally couldn’t take it anymore and left the family when Ed was only nine years old. Ed saw his father as a war hero and idolized him. He hated his mother. His mother, Clarnell, was also verbally abusive to Ed. She didn’t mistreat her daughters, just Ed. She would yell at him for any little thing and made him sleep in the basement because she was afraid he would harm his sisters.

When Ed was a kid he tortured and killed animals. He would play games with his sisters where he would roll them up in a rug and they would see who could escape the fastest. He got a kick out of watching his sisters struggle. His mother would belittle him. She would make fun of his size. At fifteen he was already 6 foot 4 inches tall. His mother’s hatred towards him caused him to entertain dark fantasies of hurting her and others.

At fifteen he decided he wanted to go live with his father so he ran away to be with him. When he got there he discovered his father was remarried and that he had a step brother. He didn’t like his stepbrother and his step mother had a bad feeling about Ed. She finally told her husband that Ed had to go. So Edmund II sent fifteen year old Ed to live with his paternal grandparents on their farm.

Immediately Ed realized that his grandmother was a lot like his mother. She was domineering and verbally abusive. Ed and his grandmother would get into arguments all the time. One day, while his grandfather was in town running errands, Ed and his grandmother were having a particularly bad argument. Ed grabbed his .22 rifle and shot her in the head. When his grandfather pulled up Ed decided it would be better if he killed his grandfather than to let him see his wife dead. So he met his grandfather outside and shot him in the head too.

He didn’t know what to do so he called his mother. She told him he needed to call the police and turn himself in, so he did.  He was arrested and taken to Atascadero State Hospital after being deemed mentally incompetent. He stayed there until he was twenty one. When asked why he killed his grandparents he simply said, “I wanted know what it would be like to kill grandma.”

During his imprisonment he was evaluated by multiple psychiatrists. They did not believe that Ed suffered from paranoid schizophrenia, as he was originally diagnosed, but re-diagnosed him with Passive aggressive personality disorder. He was highly intelligent with an IQ of 140. He learned how his psychiatrists worked, and even helped evaluating other inmates, and used it to his advantage. At the age of 21 he had successfully convinced his doctors and social workers that he was no longer a danger to society so they released him. I’m sure to this day those who were involved in this decision are having a hard time living with it still.

Ed went back to live with his mother after his release. His mother had remarried and divorced and was working at a local community college. Ed started attending that same college. This is when it started getting bad. Ed and his mother were constantly fighting, he started dating a sixteen year old and he had gotten injured in an auto accident while on his motorcycle. His dark fantasies were still with him and they finally took over on May 7, 1972.

Ed had been picking up hitchhikers for months but on this particular day he decided he was going to kill the two girls he picked up. Mary Ann Pesce and Anita Luchessa were two eighteen year old college students who were looking for a ride to Stanford University. Ed picked them up and drove to a wooded area where he stabbed and strangled both women and stuffed them in his trunk. He then drove back to his apartment, took photos of the dead bodies, had sex with them and then dismembered them. Mary Ann’s remains were later found near Loma Prieta Mountain, Anita’s remains were never found.

He went on to kill four other women. Aiko Koo, a fifteen year old girl that he killed and left in his trunk while he went to have a beer at a local bar that his police friends frequented. Cindy Schall, who’s skull he kept for several days for sex and buried in his backyard, facing up at his mother’s bedroom window. Rosalind Thorpe and Allison Lui who he picked up, shot and beheaded in his car right in the street in front of his mother’s house. All of these women he kept for a few days to have sex with then dismembered and discarded their bodies.

He finally hit his target on April 20, 1973. His mother came home late from a party that night. He waited for her to fall asleep then he beat her to death with a claw hammer. He removed her head and had sex with it. He then used it as a dart board. He put her larynx in the garbage disposal in an effort to, “shut her up forever.” He finally stuffed her body in a closet.

He thought of how to get away with it, since her coworkers would notice when she didn’t show up for work. So he invited his mother’s best friend over for a surprise dinner. She arrived and Ed killed her, cut off her head and stuffed her in the closet. With the two of them missing, people would assume they went off on a weekend trip together and not worry. Ed took off.

He decided in the end it wasn’t worth the stress of being on the run. He turned himself in. His cop friends thought he was joking. They couldn’t believe that their friend, who had wanted to become a cop himself, was the one who had been responsible for the co-ed killings. He was charged for eight counts of first degree murders and sentenced to life in prison. He’s still in prison to this day.

The thing I find so fascinating about Ed Kemper is his ability to manipulate his doctors into thinking he was okay enough to be back in society. He used his intelligence to gain his freedom and then acted on his violent, dark thoughts. He hated his mother so much that it caused him to take it out on other women. I’m also fascinated with how much a mother can impact a child’s psyche. He justified killing and completely destroy those women because he was too afraid to kill his mother, who was the intended target. As a mother to boys it makes me worry about my own parenting. But if Ed had grown up in a stable home with a loving mother would he have been different? Or would he have still been a killer, just because of his brain chemistry?

What do you think?

 

 

 

 

Six Years of Marriage

img_3108

Wedding day. 6/15/2013

Today is our six year anniversary. It does and it doesn’t feel like it’s been that long. It does because we have children. It doesn’t because I’m just really happy with him.

Let me just tell y’all. I was in a really unhappy relationship when I met Marc. I had never been with someone that I felt fit me, I hadn’t enjoyed an intimate relationship like I should have. When Marc and I got together he showed me a love that was so strong I finally knew how it felt to be afraid of losing someone. I was pretty obsessed with him, and still am. Now it’s more of a comfortable obsession, meaning I know he’s not going anywhere so I don’t have to worry about losing him. Now I get to just worry about loving the hell out of him, getting every second I can get with him that life will allow.

Image may contain: 1 person

I love that my babies came from this man. I think that goes without saying but I wanted to say it anyway. He gave me the sweetest boys, and he is a really great dad.

Image may contain: 2 people, including Marcus Mclendon, people sitting, people eating and child

I mean just look at how he looks at our baby!

He’s my best friend. I love spending all my time with him. I love his sense of humor, he always makes me laugh. We can just be at ease with each other and we are the happiest when we’re at home just hanging out.

The past six years have been so good with him in my life. I look forward to all the years ahead of us because I know we’ll be going through them together. Happy anniversary, baby.

Image may contain: Cadie McLendon and Marcus Mclendon, people smiling, people standing, tree and outdoor

Dream Series #14

I dreamt that I was being tortured. I was kidnapped, strapped to a bed and was cut in certain places and left to bleed out. I actually felt the pain in my dream. Which is unusual. It was probably just the memory of being cut that made me remember the pain. I bled a lot. I read that if you dream of being tortured, someone in your life is making you feel victimized or it’s the strain of keeping a secret over a long period of time. Hmmm…sounds about right.

adult-blood-blur-1435460.jpg

Photo by Engin Akyurt from Pexels

I dreamt that Felix had been split into three different people. They were all over the place and I couldn’t keep up with them. I think this is a perfect interpretation of Felix. He is definitely wilder than Cillian was and I think he has just been stressing me out a little bit lately with all his climbing and running and grabbing. He’s still precious though.

Last night I dreamt that I had a tickle fight with my sister in law. I think it’s because we recently had a fight and I think this dream was my way of saying I just want us to go back to normal. That doesn’t mean we have tickle fights, I just want to go back to having fun and enjoying being around each other again.

I may have talked about this before but I think dreams have really big meaning. I think it’s our brains way of dealing with things that we can’t really face in our waking hours. I think when we’re stressed about something our dreams have a way for our brains to decode what’s stressing us out. I don’t necessarily believe that our dreams have supernatural qualities, I’m not saying it isn’t possible either, but I do feel like our brains are pretty complex and we dream for a reason. I don’t think people should just shrug off a dream. I mean it may not be a big deal but it help you understand yourself a little more. I encourage you all to start keeping a dream diary and see if you notice any patterns or recurring themes to your dreams. You might be surprised with what you find.

backlit-blur-close-up-279467

Photo credits to Pixabay from Pexels.com

Happy Birthday, Avery!

Today is my little sister’s birthday.

Image may contain: 1 person

Such a beautiful woman.

She’s five years younger than me and the third born in my family. Growing up we didn’t really get along. We were pretty different. She also did everything in her power to annoy me and make me mad.

Image may contain: 2 people, including Avery Ann Barrett, people smiling, people sitting, child and outdoor

Avery and her daughter, Delilah.

Now she’s a mother and we get along a lot better. We talk pretty much every day. It’s more than I could hope for in a relationship with her.

No photo description available.

Avery in her teen years.

Avery was a pretty angsty teen. I don’t know what all she got up to but she definitely was no angel. She has life experience that I don’t and she’s pretty wise for someone so young.

Image may contain: 2 people, including Avery Ann Barrett, people smiling, closeup

Taking a selfie with Cillian and Delilah.

I’m really proud of her. She is such a good mother to her little girl and she even gives some pretty good advice. She’s there for me when I need her and she gets me more than most people. I value her opinion, I enjoy her conversations and I miss her all the time. She lives a state away so I don’t get to see her as often as I would like to.

img_1557

Us with our babies, Felix and Delilah. They were born in the same year.

Happy birthday, little sister. I love you.

Kids Do the Darnedst Things

There’s a funny side to parenting and it usually has to do with learning things the hard way. Here are a few times my sons taught me that even though they do something crazy, it’s usually my own fault.

  1. The diaper fiasco: When Cillian was about ten months old he woke me up with a stinky surprise. At the time he slept in our bed with us and he had fallen asleep in just a diaper. On this particular morning he had woken up before me and proceeded to take his diaper off. I’m not sure if he had already pooped or if he had pooped after taking his diaper off, either way he woke me up by slapping me with a poop covered hand. It was everywhere. All over him, all over the sheets, my pillow and my face. I got him up and bathed him and washed my own face. I washed the sheets and blankets twice because the first time didn’t get it all. It was so gross. From then on he always had clothes on when he went to bed.
  2. The diaper fiasco part 2: You would think after that we would have been wiser. Well here comes Felix. This time it was a dad fail. My husband had put Felix in his crib in just a diaper and a t-shirt. The next morning I go to get him and he’s covered in his own poop. It was all over his mouth so you know he ate some. It was all over his crib. Again, I had to wash the sheets and blankets twice. Poop doesn’t like to come out easily.
  3. Cillian’s first nose bleed: I put Cillian down for a nap one day and I was in the kitchen when I heard him making noises. He wasn’t crying but he was awake so I went to check on him. I open his bedroom door and I see him covered in blood. There was a lot. I freaked out. He wasn’t crying but he gave me a look like, “What?!” I noticed it was mostly on his face so I thought maybe he hit his face on his crib but that would have made him cry so that couldn’t have been it. Then I remembered that he had just recently started picking his nose. He had scared me to death.
  4. Cillian’s first swear word: One day a friend of mine came to the house to give me some beads that she had in storage. She brought her neighbor with her to help her get all the boxes into the house and we had never met this man before. While we were talking Cillian dropped one of his toys and yelled, “Goddammit!” It was quite embarrassing and he had definitely learned it from me. I didn’t have anyone to blame but myself for that one.
  5. The smelly truth: One day while shopping for beads I had the boys in a shopping cart and I was searching. There was a woman and her two children in the aisle with us. They did look a bit rough but I didn’t pay any attention to them, I was busy. Cillian then says, “Mama, I smell something. I smell something stinky.” I asked him, “You smell something stinky?” He points and replies, “Yeah. I think those people-” I quickly push him to the other end of the aisle hoping that they hadn’t heard what he said. I shushed him but I also laughed to myself because I had not expected him to say that. Children are very honest.

Now some funny/cute things Cillian has said:

Me: “If you eat your broccoli it’ll make your muscles bigger.” Cillian: “Bigger?!” Takes a bite of broccoli. “My muscles hurt.”

Cillian: “You and me are hot and Beezy is stinky.” (Beezy is Felix’s nickname.)

Cillian pretending to read a Pizza Hut receipt: “Dear pizza pizza, I want to eat you.”

We’re waiting at the doctor’s office. Cillian: “I’m boring.” I told him he’s bored, not boring. He’s definitely not boring.

Instead of bicycle he say byclecike.

Cillian: “I’m sick.” Me: “Your not sick.” Cillian: “My *hiccup* mouth is sick.” Me: “You have the hiccups.” Cillian: “Yeah.”

adorable-child-childhood-1445465

Photo by Dazzle Jam from Pexels