Angry in 2014

I'd been back from Scotland for a few short years by this point.  I was still struggling to survive, trying to learn how to deal with what I had gone through, figuring out how to face myself in the mirror once more.  It was around this time that someone I'd considered to be my best friend began telling people I had been a "call girl" in Scotland because she couldn't deal with the truth of what happened to me.  It was a vulgar time in my life and I was incredibly unhappy. 

My life was spiraling out of control still and I had no idea how to reign it all in.





Amanda Blackwood
September 16, 2014 at 10:35 AM
Torrance, CA

I'M SO ANGRY!!!

I woke up confused from my dream and quickly realized I was (and should be) angry.

In every decision made in my dream, I was in the drivers seat, but someone else was controlling the truck.

Once, quite literally, I was in front of the wheel, unable to steer.

Once I was dressed in a white prom dress and married to someone I didn't know.

Once I slept on the street, homeless simply because someone refused to talk to me, saying they did it to "get a reaction" from me.

The reason I'm so angry now that I'm awake?

Because EACH of these things happened in my past. They weren't as confusing as the dreams were, but they weren't far off.

For many years I had no control over my life. I had no backbone. I had no direction. Truthfully, I had no hope.

Though I now have more direction than I did at 19 or 20 years old, I still find certain aspects are being dictated by others who should never be given that much power. They have this control because they help me to survive and not end up homeless. But those people shouldn't have that power. I'd honestly RATHER be homeless than give someone that much power or control over my life ever again!!

I fight for one reason and one reason only: my boys [cats].

If I lost my small and humble home, so would they. And so I bite my lower lip, pull back the tears, wipe away the blood and take a deep breath. I suck it up.

I am at the mercy of others.

And I'm just so angry.

Flash Back Friday

Haven't done a Flashback Friday in a little while. Here's me the week I got my last Miata, the 2015 Club Edition.

#Miata #MiataGirl #ZoomZoom #Flashbackfriday #fbf

Feeling Better

Keep those fingers crossed, there’s a SLIM chance I might have figured out what was wrong with me. I won’t go into details (don’t want to jinx me) but keep those fingers crossed and those prayers lifted. My hives were rather small this morning!


I'm finally feeling a little better!


#doyoubelieveinmiracles #miracle #hope #pray #hives #allergic #tomatoes?

Where Were You

#wherewereyou
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I remember the gas station was packed when I passed it on my way to work and people with 50 gallon barrels in pickup trucks were loading up fuel at the pumps. People were shouting and screaming. Panic was setting in around me and I bumbled my way along like the 21 year old oblivious kid I was.
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I was walking into a small cafe restaurant where I worked as a server. My coworkers were both staring up at the TV screen near the register and I had no clue what could possibly so interesting. I stood there just a moment, dumbfounded by their lack of response when I asked. One of them simply raised a hand and pointed to the news.
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I watched just a split second as a graceful Boeing 767-200 arched its way gracefully through the smoke filled air, completely oblivious that this would be the infamous United Airlines Flight 175. It flew in front of what appeared to be one of the twin towers on fire.
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It vanished through walls of glass and the world around its frame blew outward into an explosion of flames. Glass flew in all directions. My jaw fell slack and fat tears somehow emerged from my stunned face, quickly finding way to my chin and dropping to the floor.
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In that moment, I knew as I watched that the entire world was about to change. Eighteen years ago, the entire world *did* change. For a few days the entire nation was United in combined efforts to help fellow Americans. An outpouring of love and sympathy washed over New York and the United States from around the world. Phone calls poured in from London, Paris, Sydney, Rome, Berlin... around the world people wanted to rush to the aid of one of the most powerful nations in the world. We were hurting, they knew it and wanted to help.
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For a day, humanity was being humane. There was a lot of loss and confusion and anger and hatred and hurt and pain, but above all else, just as God commanded, there was love. Humanity proved their potential.
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We lost 2,977 innocent lives that day. More than 6,000 more were injured. More still were lost to suicides in the wake of the second deadliest attack ever to happen on American soil. We lose still more from medical complications, breathing in the toxic air as they rushed to save the lives of anyone they could find. The death toll for September 11, 2001 continues to grow even now.
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We shall NEVER forget.
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2,977 innocent lives.
412 Emergency Responders
25 Flight Attendants
8 Pilots
1 Single day.
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Where were you?

Chronic Hives

Hives.
Urticaria.
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"Urticaria" is the medical term for hives. Hives are raised areas of the skin that itch intensely and are red with a pale center (picture 1). Hives are a very common condition. About 20 percent of people have hives at some time during their lives.
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What does this mean in layman terms? Let me explain.
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For the past 5 weeks now I've been suffering from chronic hives. Every time I think they're getting better, something triggers them to come back full force, and usually worse than before. Today, a full 5 weeks after a rather alien looking caterpillar from another region of the country landed on me and dug toxic spore hairs into my neck and collar bone, I'm dealing with the absolute worst rash of hives I've ever experienced in my life. How do I explain what that's like?
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I woke up around midnight with my body itching while being simultaneously in pain with every welt that swells on my body. When this whole thing first started, the welts were small, about the size of a pencil eraser in diameter. While that doesn't sound exceptionally small, by comparison it certainly is. Now, five weeks into this living, breathing nightmare, the hives are the size of a silver dollar. They started out being focused mainly on my legs, and now they're from my ankles to my scalp, including in my hair. They cover every square inch of my skin, including my thighs, back, stomach, neck, and even my face. They itch terribly, like thousands of mosquito bites or chiggers digging under my skin looking for a place to lay their young. If I scratch, the pain is intense, as though someone is snuffing out a cigarette butt in my open flesh. No matter what, I constantly feel one of the two sensations - either as though insects are burrowing and biting, or as though putrid flesh is being burned away when I touch it.
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Last night around midnight I woke up from what had been a peaceful sleep to both sensations. I'd been laying on my back. My stomach, knees, legs and arms felt as though a million mosquitos tried to carry me off in the night. My back felt the burning of a billion embers as I laid on the swollen, hideous, ugly, violent red patches everywhere.
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This has been my life for 5 weeks as of today.
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I cried. First I got up and went to the bathroom where I put hydrocortisone anti-itch cream on every massive red lump emerging from my body like vulgar human pepperoni, and then I took a standing slap-bath in Calamine lotion. This resulted in my bathroom looking like a Calamine bomb went off all over the mirror, counter, floor, and rug.
Then I waddled my way painfully back into my room and attempted to lay down without getting the pink liquid chalk all over my bed sheets or cats. I failed on both accounts. Pink kitten paw prints can be seen lining my bedroom carpet and living room walkway. Oddly they match the pink 'crazy cat lady' magnet on the back of my car. Fat tears streamed from the corners of my eyes as I sobbed from frustration, pain, anger, confusion and fear. For five weeks I'd been dealing with all of this. For a few days it was not as bad... but then it came back with a vengeance. My daily life had to be put on hold yet again. I deal with chronic pain anyway since I have Crohn's Disease, but this is a new level of pain. What in the world had I done to deserve this? Why couldn't I figure it out and make it go away? Could it be some new food allergy, like tomatoes? Should I avoid eating tomatoes ever again? My lord, what if I was allergic to tomatoes?
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I finally stopped crying when JackJack jumped up to nuzzle me. I focused my efforts on petting his little head, just between his eyes and over the top of his head to his neck. He closed his eyes and purred at me, laying down on my chest and calming me down. I woke up again around 2am and took another slap-bath, another at 5am, another at 7am, and finally stopped fighting for sleep. I got ready for work and left home with a mostly empty bottle of Calamine lotion and a paint brush.
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The Calamine doesn't help very much. It takes down the swelling significantly, but the itch remains, and if I scratch the burn takes over. I'm covered in spots. A coworker tells me that I look like a 'reverse dalmatian' and I laugh so hard I snort. I feel and look like a human science experiment. And out of all this, as many people have come forward with advice on what to do, medical professionals are baffled. What's more, it's not just me.
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Over the past several months, chronic hives has been on the rise.
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I have friends who have been to see specialists but with no more of a solution than my own of a paint brush dipped in calamine lotion. Friends of friends have reached out. People who know me from my public speaking or from the books I've written have reached out, as they experience the same. It seems there's something very, VERY wrong going on in the world, and nobody is talking about it. You can find plenty of articles online about what hives are, and what *might* cause them, but good luck finding even a single news article on the massive upswing in the issue. When I was put on steroids to attempt battling my hives over a week ago, the pharmacy had completely RUN OUT of the steroid, prednisone!
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I'm not one to really buy into conspiracy theories at all. I avoid them like the plague. But there's something bigger going on, and we're all being kept in the dark... including the medical professionals. Nobody knows what to do, and I think it's causing me to lose my mind.
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Share this if you or someone you know is suffering with Chronic Hives and nobody can tell you why.
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#hives #urticaria #prednisone #chronichives #helpme

Daily Struggle

I have been struggling lately, it's no secret.  There's been a lot going on which actually HAS been kept pretty private though.  For one, I thought the hives were gone and I'd finally moved past that severe allergic reaction, but it returned yesterday.  As of tomorrow I will have been dealing with raw nerves, itchy skin, sleepless nights for 5 weeks.  I'm exhausted and sleep deprived.  I'm also trying to figure out how, while going through this physical pain, I'm going to pack all of my belongings. I'm moving in October (to a nicer neighborhood, thank goodness) so I also need to save up the money somehow for the deposit.  Of course with my current medical limitations I can't work my extra jobs in order to save up the money for the move.  This means it's another struggle.  I can't really afford food right now either.  My bumper nearly fell off my car and is currently being held on with bungee cords.  Its embarrassing - but it still runs.  Right now it's a lot.  I'm not coping well.  I'm dealing with a lot of random things coming from different angles. But I'm still alive.  I'm still here.  I'm fighting hard.  Pretty soon I'll be back on my feet.  After I move in October I'll pay less in rent every month and might have a chance to start paying off my debts.  But for now, I'm scared, I'm hurting and I'm overwhelmed.  It's a LOT.  But I'm still alive. 
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If you're struggling, you're not alone. 

From Victim to Survivor - I Am the Butterfly.

When I was a small child, a teacher once asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I was told I could be anything I wanted to be. I responded by saying I wanted to grow up to be a butterfly. The teacher told me I was wrong to say that, because I would never be a butterfly. I cried. I told her that she had said I could be anything. But I only wanted to be a butterfly.


I believe that may have been a childhood premonition. I wanted to fly gracefully with bright colors to wear. Eventually I became a flight attendant. I thought that would be the end of my obsession with being a butterfly... but it wasn't. That was the outward appearance only.


It wasn't until I started talking about what happened to me 9 years ago that I truly discovered my proverbial wings. The wings of a butterfly have nothing to do with looks or beauty, and everything to do with the transformation. The butterfly literally falls apart in its cocoon, hugging it's proverbial knees in agony for months before it finally breaks free from its dark shell, emerging a completely different creation.


When I set out to start talking about my experiences, I wouldn't admit to being a survivor of human trafficking. In my head, I was simply a survivor of something terrible that didn't have a definition. As I learned more about what human trafficking was, I learned more about who I was and what I had truly survived. I've emerged from that shell of dark protection around me, of ignoring the truth, into this wildly outspoken woman who wants nothing more than to help others get through what I've overcome.


Someday I'll find the girls I left behind.
When that happens, I'll finally feel like I'm getting somewhere in this world.


Listen to my 90 minute NAASCA interview about my past by clicking on this link.
https://www.blogtalkradio.com/naasca/2019/10/10/stop-child-abuse-now-scan--2243

Image circa 2006