THAT SECOND THOUGHT

Few people, in the course of their lives, know exactly what they want to do when they "grow up".  Oh, we want to be firefighters, doctors, scientists, mountain climbers...the list goes on...when we are young. Around Middle School, some of those dreams begin to seem silly, or we outgrow them.  By High School, the pressure is on.  What college will you go to?  What will you study to guarantee you the perfect job when you graduate college?

The first thing you learn is that none of the jobs you dreamed of pay worth a darn. The second thing is that every job requires even just a little college.  Computers have even taken over the mechanic's garage.  The third thing you learn is...college is expensive, and you notice your parents with a clenched jaw, until you choose your college, and, least they know where they stand, financially. The fourth thing, you hopefully learn, is that you have to work from that point, until nearly the end of your life.  Second thoughts on attending college?  Of course.  Until you realize, college means being on your own!  But, then you're told, you'd better get a job to pay for the junk food, and beer.  Hmm, maybe that's not so awesome.  So many paths to choose; so much confusion!

But, what if....just what if...you'd known since the age of nine, exactly what you wanted to do?  And stuck with that plan.  Oh, a detail may change, but the overall plan stays in tact your entire school career.  Your parents don't have a clenched jaw, so much as a twinkle, or a tear in their eyes.  After all, wanting to be in the military since 9 years old is something to be proud of!  And the only thing that changed was the branch.  What kind of pride would you have knowing you were going to be a representative of the USA.  Set aside the childish doings of a greedy, outdated government...YOU would represent you country!  And second thoughts?  Not a damn one.

The day comes, junior year, and you meet the local Marine recruiter in your school counselor's office.  You leave with an appointment for you and your parents to meet the recruiter the next week.  Because you have support from your parents, the paperwork begins.  The next day soo many papers get signed, and an appointment to go to the Military Examination is set for next week.  You find out you will spend your first night in a hotel--alone.  Second thoughts?  Not really.

Then a glitch in the medical exam makes it necessary to make another trip to have a consultation.  By this time, several weeks have passed.  Still no word from Sargent on the dates for that.  In that time, Junior Prom happens.  With a pretty girl on your arm, the thought occurs to you that this is your last prom.  Second thoughts?  Umm...

In the meantime, friends are wishing you luck, because in 7 or 8 months you will be in Boot Camp.  They're afraid for you.  Their words, "I don't want you to die" ring loudly in your ears.  This isn't just a future endeavor, anymore.  It is now.  Second thoughts?  You're damn right!  You want, no, need to spend more time being a kid!  You don't want to die.

The time has come to go for that final consult before signing the contract with the US Marines, and Sergeant stops at a gas station.  In the bathroom, you call your Dad.  Second thoughts pouring out, and you are assured that no matter what you decide, you will be supported.  Now for the hard part.  "What is your reason for stopping now?" you are asked, and your response is exactly what you told your Dad.  "I don't want to die."  Sergeant drones on with statistics and taunts.  You've made your decision.  It's all just happened so fast...much faster than you thought, and you can't wrap your head around not being here.

But here's the kicker.  You have NOT given up the mission.  After graduation you will start over again with alll those papers, and exams, so that you can finally achieve that esteemed title of United States Marine.  And your parents will shine with pride, and shed a tear or two.  You will have stuck with it for nine years.  Twice the time most of your friends will spend in college.

OooRah, Son.

SHOULDA KNOWN BETTER

Every now and then, I do really half-wit things.  Okay, maybe more than every now and then.  The past two months I've done two standout "shoulda known better" things. One as recent as two days ago.

Firstly, I trusted someone I'd never met.  Actually, 5 of them.  Or maybe it was one performing 5.  I'm sure I'll never know.  Scammers run amok on social media, dating sites, banking sites...you name it.  Most, however, request some sort of money to help them, or join them.  The scam I became entangled in, played with my good heart.  They call the love scams "catfishing" scams.  I suppose the one I was caught up in for two years is, perhaps, a cousin of that...maybe crappie-fishing.,

In previous posts, I have mentioned a family in California, that I became so close to, that when Karie got pregnant, they wanted me to be the grandparent on Josh's side, because his mother, Whisper, was unstable, and abusive.  This was an overwhelming honor!  The two years with them included soap opera like drama...constantly.  My gut would whisper, "who has that much drama in their life?"  My heart would say, "They need me".  The gut suspicions started at the get-go, but, I always seemed to be able to justify the situation. And, then the hammer came down.

As Karie progressed with her pregnancy...twins...she would send me pictures of the ultrasounds.  It was always an exciting day when she posted her ultrasound.  And, being the proud, Grandma-to-be, I would repost.  What I didn't know was, I had my own personal NSA doing background checks on everything I posted regarding them, on Facebook.  The most recent post, the one of her 3-D ultrasound, was the one that proved to the world that I was a fool. 

Almost as soon as I posted the ultrasound, a schoolmate posted information about a website that let you pick your own ultrasound.  How many weeks along are you?  Twins or single?  We've got a fake for that.  And, as much as I wanted him to be wrong, or at least have contacted me privately about it, there it was.  The exact ultrasound Karie had just sent me.  I remember actually blushing.  At my gullibility, my trust...my being used for someone's good laugh. 

I confronted Josh. He said he did it so Karie wouldn't know she'd lost one of the twins.  I confronted Karie.  She didn't seem anywhere near as upset as she should have.  It occurred to me, that she never did.  I asked Josh for answers.  My friend found no trace of Josh, Karie, Whisper, or the two young boys that had supposedly died.  Nothing.  No names, no death certificates, no doctor licenses for Josh and Karie, and no Whisper.  Why me?  Was it for shits and giggles?  Josh emphasized no, it was not for entertainment.  The last message was his/her reason for two years of deception.  "My home life really sucks, and I thought that maybe, just maybe, I could make my own to escape into."  Alrighty, then.  Unfriend, and block all five liars.  If there are five.  It's very easy to create a profile on Facebook.  I even made one for my dog!  Strangely, I didn't feel grief, other than how much it hurt to supposedly lose the boys.  I hardly felt anger.  I just wanted nothing to do with whoever it was immediately.  I've not dwelled on it at all.  It was a learning experience.  Trust is not free.

The second "shoulda known" was forgetting that, on Facebook, the whole internet for that matter, there are eyes everywhere.  A simple post of what I know to be true, was challenged by a friend of someone I referred to in the post.  It was frustrating, as I am a writer, and hate being censored, but, I understood where he was coming from, AND, I'd gotten in trouble for doing this before.  I rarely use names in my posts, but the nature of this thread had made it easy to know who I was referring to.  I was sick to my stomach upon reading the confrontation.  I believe they believed what they were saying.  The thing is...well, it's that judging thing again.  Until you have both sides of a story, just don't.  And he did not.  

He challenged why I haven't had a job in 17 years.  His view makes sense.  "You sit and Facebook all day, there should be some kind of work you can do."  That truly is a good question.  I felt he needed a little info on "why".  I tried to explain Fibromyalgia, which is about as productive as stapling a board to snow.  If a person has it in their head that it is not real, you can't change it.  Believe me, I've tried.

The side he didn't know was that I was battling, not just Fibro, which is taxing enough, but Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (we're working on getting that title changed because it trivializes the illness), Osteoarthritis, Chronic Depression, BiPolar, ADHD, and anxiety.  And as far as sitting on Facebook all day, I change positions dozens of times throughout the day due to the pain and numbness.  I get up more than a dozen times a day (and night) to use the bathroom.  I am dizzy, and fall every now and then.  At times I sit and stare at the screen, wondering what I was thinking of getting up to do.  I did have a job, short-lived, due to the "Fibro Fog" that makes completing a task, or "putting 2 & 2 together" a real struggle.  Those things didn't get talked about much back in "the day", because my being on Social Security Disability was an embarrassment.  As was my handicapped placard. 

Through it all, I was raising two kids.  Although, I have learned that it has been said that I did not.  I'm still raising one, and I am proud of how we have grown in recent years.  I am proud of him in a way that makes my heart want to explode.  I fear, sometimes, that his view of women will be based on my bad days. The days that I am in such pain my teeth or my hair hurts.  He once said something similar to my being strong, and my heart soared.  He has been taught well by the adults in his life, and in the past months I have seen it in the way he treats his girlfriend.  But, I digress.

There are things I should have learned years ago about what to, and what state I am in when I post.  Posting on a trying day, sometimes bitter day, will only bring hard feelings and confrontation.  And now it comes back to the trust issue.  Is there anyone in cyberspace that can really be trusted?  As I've gotten older, I tell it like I see or feel it.  Because, trust it or not, cyberspace is always there for me.