I damaged my singing voice years ago, yelling at an unruly
kid when I was substitute teaching.
Something tore inside. Recently,
a singer on tv described a similar injury.
She exercised her throat, starting gently and working her way up to full
throttle. I thought, "I can do
that!" So, I've been singing. It hasn't been perfect, but it's getting
better. My dog looks less worried
anyway.
From the musical Grease, I softly sang Rizzo's flirtations,
but I belted out the last verse with full volume and accuracy.
I
could hurt someone like me, out of spite or jealousy... I can feel and I can
cry, a fact I'll bet you never knew, but to cry in front of you, that's the
worst thing I could do.
I can do Cat Stevens' "Father and Son" pretty well
too. Apparently I sing feelings.
All the times that I've cried, keeping all the things I
knew inside. It's hard, but it's harder
to ignore it. If they were right, I'd
agree, but it's them they know not me. Now there's a way, and I know that I
have to go away.
No doubt my throat chakra is messed up because I kept my
mouth shut working for The Church, where intelligent, informed women aren't
appreciated. To prove this, they hired
a completely incompetent man and demanded I teach Skippy how to do said
job. Perhaps you know me well enough by
now to guess how I reacted? They tossed
in bullying and sexual harassment just to make sure I got the full Catholic
experience.
Before you ask, they're allowed to bully employees. While Skippy is younger than me, he's over
40 so the age discrimination rights are weak.
While multiple lawyers told me I have a case for the sexual harassment
(which I documented and reported), they said the Catholic church
is a well-oiled, armored machine to combat lawsuits. (Ex. decades of unprosecuted pedophilia cases.) AND, they're exempt from paying Unemployment
benefits. I've thought of clearing my
throat chakra by screaming.
The top priest said he'd write me a letter of recommendation
because I'm a conscientious worker.
"We're just going in a different direction" -- which is the
opposite of the BS they promised when they hired Skippy. In case you didn't know, priests lie. A lot.
You may have noticed there was some time I skipped blogging
in 2016. Now you know why. I hung onto the job for a while during and
after this blackout, but I wasn't ready to talk about it through the limping,
conflicted end. I also really didn't
want to blast everyone with my rage -- especially when all of this too neatly
coincided with Trump and his followers' sexism. 2016 sucked. Yay for
2017? Oh, right, Trump won. Fffff...
Onto the future. My
liberation may work in the convoluted way of the universe? I'm looking forward to creative projects
truer to my nature and beliefs. The
lawyers say I can talk about The Church as much as I'd like as long as it's
true. OMG that's a lot of material to
work with! It's the prize for allowing
myself to be stifled for a paycheck. I
have a scathing book idea :)
In a nutshell, it sucks, I'm glad to be free of it, I have
enough savings to get by for while as I figure out what to do with myself, and
I partly wonder if I brought this on myself by envying my college pal's free
and creative lifestyle? Ask and you
shall receive -- but be careful what you wish for!
I did this art my first year of blogging in 2010. It seems like a long time ago, but also kind
of like hitting restart in more ways than one.
