I had thoughts of writing a post about where I stand in the gluten-free diet regimen; the migraines, and how my junk science is panning out. In fact, in the past week, I have concluded almost daily to write a new post with regard to the dietary subject–to no avail. Yet, I ask myself (and you as well), how can I write a post on what now seems a frivolous subject when I have had heavier pressing matters before me? I mean really, it doesn’t make sense to take to the black keys and formulate an anecdotal strategy for myself and share it with all of you when I have the effects of domestic violence present in my immediate path along with the continued health trauma of my son.
No, the glutton of the gluten must be cast aside.
My son? Well, we meet with a specialist tomorrow who will hopefully initiate the diagnostic process to put him on his way to a better quality of life, within his newly disabled quality he is presently entertaining. More to come on that as it pans out.
The domestic violence scenario? A sad, and unfortunately, not so unfamiliar tale. There are many a woman who have endured the tumult brought forth from the psychological and physical effects of brutalization within the home. Not to mention the children who bear witness to, as well as endure, the cycle. From my observation, if a woman (and offspring) can get out of the situation early on, she (and them) have a much greater chance of breaking the pattern and developing a healthy relational perspective. The longer the lady is in the bloody mess, the deeper the damage–to all parties–and passing the sickness onto the heirs becomes more probable than had the violent interaction been eradicated within the formative years of the relationship. And believe me, verbal bullying equates to violence; so let it be written that verbal and physical abuse share similar platforms of destruction. I have been witness to this truth and will not back down on the statement.
So how can I come to my blog with tidbits about wheat when I have just left the office of a high profile criminal attorney who was referred to me through a connection from my friend, Tanya Brown (younger sister of Nicole Simpson)? I mean who cares about grains when a childhood friend, and her children, have been subject to such despicable acts of violence that now, in despair, are requiring legal representation due to false allegations from their perpetrator. …a story Tanya and the Brown family know too well and again, unfortunately, so does the criminal “justice” system. To answer the questions (rhetorical though they may be), I can’t. I can’t talk about my dietary functions or dysfunctions when there are these types of subjects crossing my path.
And because this circumstance is not new to my life, I have had the opportunity to become acquainted with the organization, Human Options (as you can see on my home page). Human Options does a very good job of taking the women (and children) into their safe house, protecting them, educating them, nurturing their bodies and souls, and advocating for healthy change within each life that steps over their threshold. Their success statistics are compelling–90% of their “clients” never return to a violent situation. Within the world of altruistic organizations, theirs is a statistic worthy of praise. In other words, they are doing something right. And yet the hardest task is getting the adult victim to risk a better life by giving up the comfort of brutality. Make no mistake, the perversity of the previous sentence was intended because it showcases the “skewed perspective” which ensues the cycle of violence within the home.
My friend’s husband came from a home where his childhood was riddled with severity, or cruelty. He knows only one way; his inheritance is being passed on. If only she would have taken the risk for life sooner…if only. Yet even for her, it is not too late, though I worry for her stability. She has drunk the poison for so long now that the sickness has infiltrated her mind and her judgement is marred. Her idealism is now her foe, and she needs help. Though her circle of support is dwindling down to those of us who stand behind our vow of friendship, support she does have. We are few, but we are mighty!
So here is where I ask, “Am I choosing my stride, or is it choosing me?!” To answer, I think I will go and eat a gluten enriched bagel, an onion flavored one fresh from Western Bagel in Los Angeles (thanks Aunt Susie). And in the meantime, please take a few moments to watch the attached video. Let’s not let another “if only” slip on by.
living in loss and gratitude 
The Noise