Fighting Words

 In the moments I am Gritting my teeth with the music blasting Tears rushing down my cheeks like The torrential rains of a changing climate So violated by my own desire to just Say fuck it all And let go of the wheel I wish you were here to see How much I never cared... It is beyond All reason and all rationale how All I want in those moments is To feel your arms even though I  Fear your hands And everything about you. But if you think I am fine then you Are a far greater fool than I ever  Imagined was possible I am not fine I did not want this ending And I did not make it this way I suffered in silence to avoid it Trying to will you into being okay But just like I am not fine You were never okay Never would be okay Maybe someday we will both Look back on this and wonder how Two hopelessly shattered creatures thought they could Pick up all the pieces without Both of them always bleeding...

 On Halloween of 2017 I was driving on Hwy 151 between Waupun and Fond du Lac, on my way to take my son trick-or-treating. My grandmother, Kate the Great (as she was called), was buried there in the Rock River Cemetery only a couple months earlier. My son and I had been at her house with my grandfather and aunt Louisa just before that, getting our faces painted by a friend. It was hard to go there, to see my grandpa looking so lost and uncertain without my grandma by his side. And it was hard for us...hard to think that she would never be there to see another moment of our lives. I was closer to my grandmother than I had been to any of my other relatives. And she adored my son, always showed him the same unconditional love she had shown everyone she knew during her 84 years on this earth. The holes in our hearts that were created by her swift and unexpected departure ached with undeniable urgency that day. But, as we approached the cemetery, a beautiful bald eagle swooped past our ...

I hate to start any post with blunt negativity, but over the past nine months it has become more and more painfully obvious to me that nobody gives a fuck. Let me clarify what I mean by that. We are at the epicenter of a global pandemic — one that has killed over 250,000 Americans and caused roughly 14 million to lose their jobs. More than half of those people are still looking for work, myself included. And job loss isn’t the only economic fallout. Wages have been cut, hours reduced, overtime eliminated. Nearly half of Americans in a recent survey said they’ve struggled to pay their bills since the pandemic began. Yes, it’s been a brutal nine months for many of us. But if we’re being real — nobody gives a fuck. While the majority of the population suffers, the wealthiest people in America have expanded their fortunes exponentially — betting, bargaining, and cutting deals at the expense of the working class. Landlords wasted no time filing evictions the moment moratoriums lifted. Credi...

I recently had a conversation with my mother about how I speak and conduct myself on social media, and how some of our family members do not approve of my language or tone. One of them said, "Juli has such a potty-mouth, and I know you didn't raise her that way."          - That's right, my mom did not raise me to use profanity...but many years have passed in between the time when my mother was responsible for my behavior and now, and those years were full of experiences no one in my family could ever even BEGIN to understand. Thankfully, I stopped caring about what my family thinks about me a LONG time ago. Also, thankfully, my mother and father raised me to be a strong, independent thinker, and I have yet to disappoint them in that regard. Which brings me to the topic of my post tonight... I have noticed over the past several years that there are many exceptions being made to the high moral standards I was once taught to uphold. I was raised Catholic for most ...

I wrote this in early May, before the death of George Floyd, the protests, and the spotlight shining on our severely broken criminal justice system. I had to get approval from my attorney before posting it, which I have now obtained. This was one of the most difficult things I have ever written, probably the most difficult thing in the last 5 years at least. It is all true and it is all still ongoing. If you needed anymore stories of how messed up our system is, here is mine... I'd like to paint a picture for you, and I'd like to see how you feel about it when I am done: Imagine you are home with your spouse/significant other. You are in the lower level of the house and he is in the upper level. You are avoiding each other, because your partner has been a stranger to you over the past month, and in the past week he has done things you never imagined he would do. Some of those things are illegal, abusive, and coercive; and you are afraid of the person you love. You have not been...

I wrote this many years ago...but it seems as though that voice in my head never goes away, no matter how much I achieve or how many years pass. For every person out there who has suffered abuse of any kind...you are not alone. I love you. And you are good enough. He Said... "Why don't you ever listen? Why not do exactly as I say? You know if you'd just act right I'd stop treating you this way. I'll hurt you like you want me to In all the places that won't bruise And I'm not being sick and sadistic I'm showing you how much I love you. No one else could ever love you I'm the best you'll ever have You're nothing but a lying whore Why the fuck are you so sad? Did I hurt your pathetic feelings? Did I break your cheating heart? Do I make you want to kill yourself And tear your sorry little world apart? I know you think I'll change someday That I'll soften up and give a shit But what foolish, naive hopes you have They are the delusions of ...

I keep seeing a pattern in social media posts that got me thinking about how delicate the balance can be in a person's life, and how quickly it can shift when the normalcy of everyday life is upended. Today it was a friend of a friend, a post that said RIP. Vague answers on what the cause of death was, but it wasn't Covid-19. Maybe suicide. More likely an overdose, like the post I read the other day about someone I met years ago when my life was significantly less "together" than it is now. The one before that was just over a week ago. Samantha. She was larger than life, that girl. She could make you laugh through the hard times, even if every fiber in your body wanted to break down in tears. She had been doing well, by what everybody said. Three weeks ago, it was my own boyfriend. Clean off heroin for two years and just impulsively decided to buy a $20 bag. Cops found him unconscious in a bank parking lot, one foot out the door, car still running. He had pissed himse...