An Assistant DA with a Rose in her Teeth

Andi: the latest Bachelorette

Andi is going to make a crack Bach, no doubt about that. She’s uncommonly bright for a Bach, gorgeous, and real. Her no-nonsense approach to life is going to make for interesting viewing this season.

Of course she had the habitual drunk: hi, Craig! One has to wonder about such fellows. The Bachelor/Ette series is far from new, and although most men claim not to watch, of course many do. Wouldn’t you, if you were going to appear on the damn thing? Shades of “Survivor” where most boobs show up not even knowing how to make a fire.

Voila! Two major reality no-nos:

• Don’t get drunk the first night on any Bach series
• Don’t go on Survivor without knowing how to make fire.

Oh my, I forgot one.

• Don’t go on Big Brother and be surprised when pictures of your naked arse appear all over the web!

Andi’s guys

Back to the show of the moment, the Bachelorette. Several men were stand-outs, and not all in a good way. I got a massive kick out of Josh, the one who was “embarrassed.” In a Jokers Soup article,  Soup was tickled because they figured Josh couldn't have ever watched the show. Nah! This, for me, is your basic young hot male. Likely it never occurred to Josh that he would be the first to get the boot! Hot young males have fairly simple mental functions, along these lines:

<grunt> “Me see hot woman.” <sniff sniff> “Smell good too.” <Picks at his hair, fluffing it. Pumps up arms. Checks teeth in mirror and is ready to make his move.>

“Yo. Me sensitive dude:  won’t throw you over shoulder and bolt like other dudes. First we have drinks, I pretend interest in your life, and then no need for the whole shoulder thing. Me you’ll follow docile as lamb.” <Puffs out chest at woman: exposes large white teeth.>

On that note, he’s done... he goes back to join the other males, certain of impending rose-dom.

I have to admire Josh’s blunt honesty, though... lord knows I’ve heard enough of “... could have been something so special!” or “I am perfect for her...” ad nauseum. All this over a woman they've known for hours! Of particular note are the ones who actually squeeze out a tear or two.

This season's somber start

This Bachelorette definitively began on a different note: one of sorrow. The loss of Eric Hill, a contestant vying for Andi’s hand, has hit the entire Bach community hard. After a bit of research, I discovered why. This was a guy who knew how to live, really live. He travelled the world constantly, engaged in one adventure after the next. I’m sure that he passed as he would have wanted -- in a paragliding accident. Eric Hill was never going to die of old age on a couch, bless him.

Wrapping it up: Jokers’ take

As usual, there are widely-varying points of view on the new Bach season from Joker folks. I saw “Couldn’t even make it an hour... not impressed with Andi at all..” and, in response, “.. quick-witted and smart... I rather like her.” Jokers can be relied on for such differing outlooks, as well as a dang good laugh!

I get a kick out of the people who really research each show, delving into minute details and sometimes reading the future from them. They’ll find a still shot of a date, for example, where the guy’s head is hidden. It’s obviously a shot from the famous “F2” (Final Two) reveal, and the outcome has been accurately forecast in the past by people who correctly identify a certain ring, the color of a shirt, even the angle of the sun.

During this first episode, Andi was laughing about her constant “y’all” usage. Jokers users think that perhaps production had encouraged the Southern slang to make Andi more “colorful”. Another believes that it makes her “endearing”, instead of the far-overused “amazing” so often uttered. Ne14cookies came up with my personal fav... she read that Bachelor Canada folks said Andi’s guys needed to “give their Pee-Wee Herman ties back!”

Joker's Bach Queen

When a new Bach season begins, Joker’s “Bach Queen” leaps into action. She finds articles everywhere on earth, literally; from tiny USA towns to global stories. She sniffs out Bach clues better than Sherlock Holmes ever could. (Of course he didn't have Google!) And she provides the best fodder for the Bach research crew. She processes hours of Bach video, creating slo-mo versions as well as regular. Her videos and screencaps are to be found anywhere Bach is discussed, along with her brand firmly stamped at the bottom.

Who might this Joker’s Bach Queen be? 20 guesses and the first 19 don’t count, as we say down South. Next week, though, I might attempt to grab an interview from the queen herself. I doubt she’ll actually give up any of her best tricks for acquiring arcane Bach knowledge, but “y’all” can certainly wait and see.

PTSD Journal: What really happened yesterday

Taking avoidance to a new high

I did start this journal yesterday. That is not all that happened, though. Not by a long shot.

Yesterday was my monthly Doc day: I go to my pain doc monthly. It's always hell, but yesterday was incredibly so. And it started so well.

As I leave the house so very often (HAH!) I have rituals I must do before going. Ensure the cell is charged, cigs in purse, keys, credit cards. Shake the cat hair off my jeans LOL! Then sit for ten minutes and breathe, try to calm the shaking which started the minute I began to gather things.

I get to her office with no problems, but once I'm there, the panic hits. They know me well. I don't usually sit in the waiting room. There's a small room with a bed, and they even bring a blanket because along with head-to-foot shaking I get cold as ice. 

I see the doc, learn I've LOST another damn pound, to my horror. My normal 115 is a thing of the past. Wound up hospitalized several times in the last couple of months for what I call 'runaway gut' syndrome: you run like hell! I am down to 92 pounds in the process. Oh no, not true: 91 now.

She writes my prescriptions, I head to the pharmacy upstairs - and the fun begins. For some reason neither of my credit cards work. I call my banker. Do you have a check on you, he asks? In complete panic, I say no.

There's been some idiocy with my cc, and I have to find an actual bank he tells me. He fully knows about me, and he's sorry as hell, but what can he do? I get lucky and learn there happens to be a bank less than a mile away.

Ette gets DOWN at the bank

The panic is so bad I'm one-eyeing it (if you've done that, you know JUST what I mean.) For those of you who haven't, it simply means that everything is spinning so badly that you must clamp one eye shut in order to see. One needs to see to drive: it's one of those things.

I somehow made it to the bank, only to discover it was packed. People were waiting in one of those long, serpentine lines that wind around low posts with plastic bubbles on top. Behind me was a family of Spanish folks, including two small children. Mama was chattering away happily. I hung on to that for a bit, but then as usual, I couldn't.

So, again as usual, down I go onto my haunches. People stare. I grin. "Panic attack, sorry." They mostly grunt and look away, although often I'll get "Breathe. Deeply."

A lot of people have panic, as I have discovered. Otherwise, how is it that so many complete strangers have come to my aid? And known what to do? The kindness of these strangers has truly been wondrous.

I made it to the window, did my thing and - hit the floor again. I chatted with the teller from there, in fact. Finally I got out of there, back to the pharmacy and to my utter delight: HOME. In the door, up the stairs, and boom. Onto the bed. Shake, rock and roll! But I made it.

Today I'm considering making a trip to the store. In six months, this would be Trip #3. We won't discuss 1 or 2, or else 3 won't happen.

Good news for a change: one of my cats is breaking out of his PTSD

Only humans got PTSD, you thought? Think again! Animals get abused as well. (Was I cognizant of this? Hell no. Hell no, or this would have ended the moment I learned.) It is what it is: it's up to me to fix this. I did find an energy worker for animals, and she worked miracles on two out of three of my Siamese.

Yang and Sakkie were fine the very night Sally left, some three months ago. Yin? Not so much. He's been living under my bed. I see him rarely, although I call him all the time. Yin and Yang are identical twins, BTW. Impossible to tell apart until they speak. Yin has a rough, nasal yowl whilst Yang has a sweet voice. (Sakki has a very high voice for a Siamese: a friend of mine cracked that when I had him fixed, his voice went up!)

I digress. Two days ago, Yang came to me in the bathroom, as usual. I patted him, and he spoke. It wasn't Yang! Finally, oh lord finally -- it was Yin. He spoke frantically, as if he'd been holding it back for all these months. (Crying as I type, but for once tears of joy. He's on the road to recovery!) Since, he's been on my bed twice. Unheard of!

As always, funny news: Ette strokes out!

Normally that wouldn't be in the "Lord, that's hilarious" category but there is nothing normal about me! I awoke two days ago with, of all things, a partially-numb lower lip. Instantly I thought I'd had a stroke. I hit Skype, and my Irish best friend Mike (who lives in Hong Kong) was about to go to bed. Until he heard my news, that is. 

It sent the booger into a non-stop laughing jag that came so clearly over Skype that the cats leaped off the bed! "That's one more specific stroke," he finally managed to get out. Yes, I finally saw the humor too. (I'll say this: it's always funnier when it ain't you!)

And that is the news for yesterday.

PTSD Journaling Section: What's THAT about?

What is PTSD?

"PTSD develops after a terrifying ordeal that involved physical harm or the threat of physical harm. The person who develops PTSD may have been the one who was harmed, the harm may have happened to a loved one, or the person may have witnessed a harmful event that happened to loved ones or strangers." (From the National Institute of Mental Health site.)

That is a very apt description, I'd say. Oddly enough, since I entered the world of PTSD, I have learned that many of my friends (and family of Jokers) also suffer from the evil disease. How does one learn whether one has PTSD or no? A doctor is the only one who can officially label you with that disease, but there are red flags that point directly to Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome symptoms.

Here is a list of PTSD side effects. If you seem to tick many more boxes than not, I'd suggest visiting a doctor at your soonest convenience. Like any other disease, PTSD worsens considerably when not treated. Unlike many other diseases, you can die from it - by your own hand. Here is a PTSD Symptom Checklist:

• Lousy sleep (can't get to sleep, can't stay asleep, and/or you don't ever feel as though you've had enough sleep.)
• Frequent nightmares
• Frequent panic attacks
• No-no subjects (subjects you simply cannot address without enduring a panic attack.)
• Avoidance of certain topics (related to no-no subjects. You'll definitely avoid those, but also seemingly-unrelated topics.)
• Hellish depression
• Thoughts of suicide
• Actual suicide attempt(s)
• Unrelenting fear
• Jumpy (a flea fart can send you several feet in the air)
• Inability to complete heretofore simple tasks (you can't open/read your email, get your snail mail, enter a store)
• Inability to leave your home - this one is common.
• Extreme reactions (even if you're normally a mellow type, you find yourself lashing out at people)
• Shaking (my personal favorite: these days I sometimes cannot even sign my name. I make an 'X'.)
• Feelings of overwhelming shame (How did I ever allow this to happen to me? Me of all people? I always thought I was fairly bright. Now I am positive I'm a total, utter fool.)
• Drastic weight gain/loss
• Drug/alcohol dependency

... the list goes on, but these popped into my head. No, I don't need to provide a link. Simply Google "PTSD Symptoms" and these will appear.

So, how many did I check off? All but one. How about that for sucksville? Which one, you ask? I'll let you guess at that one (if anyone ever reads this dreck!)

How is PTSD cured?

Damned if I know! Hasn't happened yet. I'm in therapy with two flavors of docs:

a psychologist administering EMDR 

A psychiatrist administering cognitive therapy.

I vote for the EMDR (in as much as I miss most of my appointments. That whole 'unable to leave the house' thing, you know.) EMDR has something to do with rapid eye movement. Voodoo (my nickname for the psychologist who is doing the EMDR) wags a finger, a la metronome, in front of my nose. My eyes follow it: no head movement whatsoever. He guides my thoughts, or rather encourages me down certain paths by asking questions.

First session was fun! Really fun, and I felt stupendous after it. Raring to go for the next... which was hell. I didn't get over it for a month. Third one was just OK, and the fourth is next week.

The cognitive sucks, period. He just prods me into describing what happened, in nauseating detail. Our list above has something about 'Avoidance', does it not? It's truly hard to avoid a subject that a truly great shrink is equally determined you're going to face.

All of this seems dreadfully familiar to you, but at the same time you're experiencing relief. You're not crazy after all! You have a disease that can be defined and can be cured. 

And you just found a place to discuss it, if you like. Leave comments - I will respond to every one. I can tell you what has and hasn't worked, some of the dangers, and even some legalities involved.

I'm going to leave this post with one legality: perhaps the most important thing I learned. May it help you as it did me.

Ex-parte Order of Protection (or whatever it's called in your state)

Google "order of protection' for your state. The proper terminology will be discussed: you want the 'urgent' one. That one, when awarded by a judge, has an individual hauled out of your house THAT INSTANT. No joke. My predator was informed before I even got home! They were gone a couple of hours later. It will work for you: no, you needn't have current marks on your body. Simply THREATS are sufficient, get me? No I didn't know that: I knew none of this. Learned most people don't.

Did learn 7 women are abused every minute in the States. Yet, 70 percent of women who get those protection orders are never abused again. So, why don't women get the things?

Because, like moi, they weren't aware of a protective order.

Your duty is to pass on 'protective order', ex-parte OP or just 'urgent OP' to everyone you know.

You will very likely save a life in doing so.