Hi to all who have read my stories...strangers, friends and loved ones. I have been on hiatus for three months due to two reasons. First, my computer has been in the computer guru's shop twice in the last three months and that has caused me undo stress. I have had it back for almost two weeks now and it seems to be working fine, but I must give it a month before calling it good again. I know most of you have experienced this; while experiencing the same stress I did.
The second reason I have been on hiatus is because I have discontinued my speaking engagements, (hopefully this will be temporary). The speaking was my inspiration for writing most of my stories. I believe I told you once before that I live in such a remote area that I have run out of places to speak. I could drive six hours a day to go to a speaking engagement, but I just can't travel like that anymore. So, unless we move to a much more populated area (which is very possible later down the road) I am suspending my writing for awhile.
It is very sad for me to do this because of the joy it brought to me and the help it brought to others. This, hopefully will be temporary, but I really don't know the outcome yet about moving to a large metropolitan area.
I want to thank all of you that have read my stories and your support. Hopefully I will write again soon. Until then, remember, my website will still be here and my Page on Face Book will be there. People can still purchase my book if they choose to.
Thank you all, and until I write again...please enjoy a happy life.
Sincerely,
Linda Leone
P.S. I almost forgot...there is a new adventure in my life. I am working on a hobby that I will expose to the public in a very short while. Oh, love those secrets. :-)
Wednesday, July 18, 2012
Sunday, April 15, 2012
Happy Memories...Finally!
As I wrote my book I really couldn't remember any good, fun memories as a child. After I began speaking to different clubs and organizations, so many people began telling me their stories of abuse and I can tell you that writing my book and speaking about my life...telling the things that happened to me...basically airing my dirty laundry, I now find myself happier than I have ever been. It was very healing mentally for me.
Very recently I began remembering some really nice and fun things I did with my older brother when we were very young. He took care of me for many years while my parents were not at home for one reason or another. Some of the things we did were scary, some fun, and always an adventure. I will be writing about some of these things more often, just as I wrote my last story about the go-cart.
Well, I just felt like sharing that little tidbit with everyone. I am feeling better and better about my past; concerning my relationship with my brother. It feels good.
Very recently I began remembering some really nice and fun things I did with my older brother when we were very young. He took care of me for many years while my parents were not at home for one reason or another. Some of the things we did were scary, some fun, and always an adventure. I will be writing about some of these things more often, just as I wrote my last story about the go-cart.
Well, I just felt like sharing that little tidbit with everyone. I am feeling better and better about my past; concerning my relationship with my brother. It feels good.
Thursday, April 12, 2012
My Other Brother Darryl
Of course his name isn't really Darryl. I was thinking of the good old T.V. days when the sitcoms were so funny. Remember Bob Newhart with the 3 brothers. They would always walk in and introduce themselves like this..."Hi, my name is Larry and this is my brother Darryl and my other brother Darryl.". This has absolutely nothing to do with my story. I just think it's funny.
My last story was not very light hearted and about another much older brother. This story is about the brother that I wrote quite a bit about in my book. Before his birthday each year, he is 3 1/2 years older than me and then the last half of the year 4 years older. Anyway, we had a very rocky relationship growing up; but for some wonderful reason I have been able to start remembering some very good times we had as children. The following is one of those times.
I was around 8 or 9 and he was 12 or 13 years old when he built himself a go-cart. He painted it baby blue...it only carried one person...had a steering wheel and no brakes. At that time we lived on a corner lot house next to a busy highway. The highway eventually turned into one of the main streets of town. There was a steep hill just before our house that flattened out over a railroad overpass. Then there was another steep hill that led to the bridge that crossed the river that was on the other side of the highway where we lived.
Just before reaching the bridge, the steep hill forked to the left onto another road. Right in the middle of the two roads sat a gas station. It was kind of like an island sitting in a triangle of roads.
My brother and I used to drive his go-cart down one of the side streets next to our house, but we soon became bored with that. My brother decided we would go across the train overpass and drive the go-cart down the VERY steep hill to the gas station. The only thing was...we had no brakes! We didn't care about that...we decided to drive the go-cart into the side of the gas station to stop us.
Since the go-cart carried only one person, my brother told me to get on the hood and hold on so I could ride with him. I did what I was told because of course I had no sense at that age and I wanted to be part of the action. I remember we started our descent slowly and before I knew it we were going so fast tears were in my eyes and my hair was blowing wildly. I could see the side of the gas station getting closer and closer as we went faster and faster. A few seconds before we hit, I jumped off hitting the pavement hard. The wheels of the go-cart ran over both my feet knocking my shoes off and then I rolled a few times. I looked up in time to see my brother hit the side of the gas station so hard it threw him forward out of the drivers seat. He hit the side of the gas station and flew off to the side.
There was a horrific noise as he hit and when we found that we didn't have any broken bones (just a few scrapes and bruises) we saw the biggest dent in the metal gas station. There must have been 3 men working there at that time, but no one even came around to see what happened. We were scared to death and we got out of there as fast as we could pushing the go-cart back up that steep hill; both of us bleeding from various places.
We hid the go-cart behind our house, grabbed a salt shaker and headed for the plum tree that sat right by the railroad tracks. We climbed the tree and spent the rest of the day hidden away in the branches all the while filling our bellies with green plums and salt. We thought for sure we would be caught for crashing into the gas station. But fortunately for us, no one ever found out and for many years until we moved from that town, that dent was still there. Eventually the gas station was rebuilt into something else...but that is a memory that I will alway cherish because I was with my brother and we were having the time of our lives. But, we are also lucky we came away unscathed, for the most part.
The things children do are remarkable. There is never any fear...at least none for us on that beautiful spring day so many years ago. We felt like criminals who managed to escape the wrath of the law!
My last story was not very light hearted and about another much older brother. This story is about the brother that I wrote quite a bit about in my book. Before his birthday each year, he is 3 1/2 years older than me and then the last half of the year 4 years older. Anyway, we had a very rocky relationship growing up; but for some wonderful reason I have been able to start remembering some very good times we had as children. The following is one of those times.
I was around 8 or 9 and he was 12 or 13 years old when he built himself a go-cart. He painted it baby blue...it only carried one person...had a steering wheel and no brakes. At that time we lived on a corner lot house next to a busy highway. The highway eventually turned into one of the main streets of town. There was a steep hill just before our house that flattened out over a railroad overpass. Then there was another steep hill that led to the bridge that crossed the river that was on the other side of the highway where we lived.
Just before reaching the bridge, the steep hill forked to the left onto another road. Right in the middle of the two roads sat a gas station. It was kind of like an island sitting in a triangle of roads.
My brother and I used to drive his go-cart down one of the side streets next to our house, but we soon became bored with that. My brother decided we would go across the train overpass and drive the go-cart down the VERY steep hill to the gas station. The only thing was...we had no brakes! We didn't care about that...we decided to drive the go-cart into the side of the gas station to stop us.
Since the go-cart carried only one person, my brother told me to get on the hood and hold on so I could ride with him. I did what I was told because of course I had no sense at that age and I wanted to be part of the action. I remember we started our descent slowly and before I knew it we were going so fast tears were in my eyes and my hair was blowing wildly. I could see the side of the gas station getting closer and closer as we went faster and faster. A few seconds before we hit, I jumped off hitting the pavement hard. The wheels of the go-cart ran over both my feet knocking my shoes off and then I rolled a few times. I looked up in time to see my brother hit the side of the gas station so hard it threw him forward out of the drivers seat. He hit the side of the gas station and flew off to the side.
There was a horrific noise as he hit and when we found that we didn't have any broken bones (just a few scrapes and bruises) we saw the biggest dent in the metal gas station. There must have been 3 men working there at that time, but no one even came around to see what happened. We were scared to death and we got out of there as fast as we could pushing the go-cart back up that steep hill; both of us bleeding from various places.
We hid the go-cart behind our house, grabbed a salt shaker and headed for the plum tree that sat right by the railroad tracks. We climbed the tree and spent the rest of the day hidden away in the branches all the while filling our bellies with green plums and salt. We thought for sure we would be caught for crashing into the gas station. But fortunately for us, no one ever found out and for many years until we moved from that town, that dent was still there. Eventually the gas station was rebuilt into something else...but that is a memory that I will alway cherish because I was with my brother and we were having the time of our lives. But, we are also lucky we came away unscathed, for the most part.
The things children do are remarkable. There is never any fear...at least none for us on that beautiful spring day so many years ago. We felt like criminals who managed to escape the wrath of the law!
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Brother vs. Sister...No Winner!
It has been at least two months since I wrote my last story. This one is so different than anything I have written. It concerns my older brother...our disagreement...and now we no longer speak. I really wonder how many of my readers have, or have had, this same type of problem with a sibling. A problem that has escalated out of control. I feel as though he no longer loves me and I feel the same towards him.
Of course our argument has everything to do with the book I wrote...my life story. I told him in 2010 I was writing my autobiography, he said he wanted to read it, I sent him a copy in the first part of January 2011. I told him when he finished I would love to have his feedback. I had no idea what was in store for me regarding his response. I now wish with all my heart I had never told him I wrote my life story and mostly sending him a copy.
He is my oldest brother and I have loved him, revered him; in short, in my eyes he could do no wrong. All of you that have read my book already know that I have a very dysfunctional family. As much as I loved my brother, there has always been a part of me that feared him. He easily intimidated me with his anger issues. So, I always made sure I was never the target of his rage. By doing that, I can honestly say he had never hurt me mentally or physically...until now.
I purposely whitewashed him in my book and did not write anything but good about him. I was protecting him from the many things I could have written about, which in hindsight I should have because it would have furthered my examples about just how dysfunctional my family really is. There were 7 children in my family with me being the youngest. I wrote a paragraph about each family member towards the end of my book. Every family member was written about truthfully and they were all pretty messed up people; me included...except for this brother and my oldest sister whom I adore now as I always have. There are only 4 of us left now.
I know now that I was so wrong to let him slide. But in my defense, I wrote about the things that impacted my life and he truly never did anything to me so I thought it would be okay to just not mention the many things he has done to others.
To make a very long story as short as possible it went down like this: after I sent him my book, he called when he finished and spent 31 minutes pounding me verbally about it. In a nutshell, he doesn't believe what I wrote and he was so cold and mean spirited to me. I tried my best for 31 minutes to get him to at least try to have some empathy for abused women. He wouldn't even listen. He was adamant about how our mother did not do the things I wrote about in my book. It was more than awful. When I spoke with my older sister, I broke down and went into hysterics crying over the cruel things he said to me. After that we did not speak until a few days ago on March 2, 2012. We didn't speak for 13 months.
I extended the olive branch and called him. I decided to confront him and settle our dispute so we could have a nice relationship again. This was not to be. When I told him I thought he owed me an apology, his voice changed and he wouldn't let me get a complete sentence in without interrupting and hurling insults and name calling. They were pretty vulgar so I won't repeat what he said. I finally had enough and it was on. I gave him as good as I got. I was also very vulgar and will not repeat what I said.
This was the first time in my life I had ever stood up to him. I followed it up with a 4 page letter that I mailed yesterday. I felt I needed to at least say the things I didn't get to say because of his constant interrupting and terrible insults. In my mind I have pretty much ended my relationship with him. I feel no guilt about this. I have learned to always apologize when I feel guilt in my heart...there is nothing there but a kind of sorrow. I feel sorry for him because he can't be open minded about other peoples feelings and thoughts. I think he is living with blinders over his eyes.
I hope I was able to convey my story in a way that everyone can understand and maybe relate to. It is a very terrible thing to have to say good-bye to a brother that was once so loved.
If anyone can relate to my story please let me know. I never thought this would happen to me and my brother. The way I see it is there is no winner here. The thing is...he will never apologize to me...I will never speak to him again unless he does. We are both too old for this kind of crap, but it did happen and now I have to let him go. I don't hate him...I just feel unjustly hurt and can no longer allow him to have that kind of power over me. I must try to forget about him.
This absolutely could have been prevented if only he hadn't been so cruel to me verbally. I still can't believe this has happened...but it did. Thank you all for reading this so very important story and I envy all who has not had this happen to them.
Of course our argument has everything to do with the book I wrote...my life story. I told him in 2010 I was writing my autobiography, he said he wanted to read it, I sent him a copy in the first part of January 2011. I told him when he finished I would love to have his feedback. I had no idea what was in store for me regarding his response. I now wish with all my heart I had never told him I wrote my life story and mostly sending him a copy.
He is my oldest brother and I have loved him, revered him; in short, in my eyes he could do no wrong. All of you that have read my book already know that I have a very dysfunctional family. As much as I loved my brother, there has always been a part of me that feared him. He easily intimidated me with his anger issues. So, I always made sure I was never the target of his rage. By doing that, I can honestly say he had never hurt me mentally or physically...until now.
I purposely whitewashed him in my book and did not write anything but good about him. I was protecting him from the many things I could have written about, which in hindsight I should have because it would have furthered my examples about just how dysfunctional my family really is. There were 7 children in my family with me being the youngest. I wrote a paragraph about each family member towards the end of my book. Every family member was written about truthfully and they were all pretty messed up people; me included...except for this brother and my oldest sister whom I adore now as I always have. There are only 4 of us left now.
I know now that I was so wrong to let him slide. But in my defense, I wrote about the things that impacted my life and he truly never did anything to me so I thought it would be okay to just not mention the many things he has done to others.
To make a very long story as short as possible it went down like this: after I sent him my book, he called when he finished and spent 31 minutes pounding me verbally about it. In a nutshell, he doesn't believe what I wrote and he was so cold and mean spirited to me. I tried my best for 31 minutes to get him to at least try to have some empathy for abused women. He wouldn't even listen. He was adamant about how our mother did not do the things I wrote about in my book. It was more than awful. When I spoke with my older sister, I broke down and went into hysterics crying over the cruel things he said to me. After that we did not speak until a few days ago on March 2, 2012. We didn't speak for 13 months.
I extended the olive branch and called him. I decided to confront him and settle our dispute so we could have a nice relationship again. This was not to be. When I told him I thought he owed me an apology, his voice changed and he wouldn't let me get a complete sentence in without interrupting and hurling insults and name calling. They were pretty vulgar so I won't repeat what he said. I finally had enough and it was on. I gave him as good as I got. I was also very vulgar and will not repeat what I said.
This was the first time in my life I had ever stood up to him. I followed it up with a 4 page letter that I mailed yesterday. I felt I needed to at least say the things I didn't get to say because of his constant interrupting and terrible insults. In my mind I have pretty much ended my relationship with him. I feel no guilt about this. I have learned to always apologize when I feel guilt in my heart...there is nothing there but a kind of sorrow. I feel sorry for him because he can't be open minded about other peoples feelings and thoughts. I think he is living with blinders over his eyes.
I hope I was able to convey my story in a way that everyone can understand and maybe relate to. It is a very terrible thing to have to say good-bye to a brother that was once so loved.
If anyone can relate to my story please let me know. I never thought this would happen to me and my brother. The way I see it is there is no winner here. The thing is...he will never apologize to me...I will never speak to him again unless he does. We are both too old for this kind of crap, but it did happen and now I have to let him go. I don't hate him...I just feel unjustly hurt and can no longer allow him to have that kind of power over me. I must try to forget about him.
This absolutely could have been prevented if only he hadn't been so cruel to me verbally. I still can't believe this has happened...but it did. Thank you all for reading this so very important story and I envy all who has not had this happen to them.
Saturday, December 31, 2011
"Shelly"
This is the story of Shelly who is one of the many ladies I have spoke with after a speaking engagement. She and I spoke in length on the phone so that she could tell her story in detail. I am going to condense the story because I think you all get the gist of what my stories are usually all about...abuse.
Shelly was sexually abused by her grandfather from age 5-13. She told me he never inserted his penis, but would insert his fingers inside her vagina while making her touch his genitals. Please excuse my very blunt description, but there is really no other way to tell these stories if I want to make an impact...and I do. These were her words of describing her horrible ordeal and to sugar coat this kind of story is doing an injustice to the abused females and young boys who have endured this sick kind of abuse.
Her grandfather was her mother's father. Shelly found out that he had also sexually molested her mother's sister and all 6 of her female cousins. I don't know if he molested Shelly's mother or not. The mother says he didn't, but it sounds awfully weird that every other female in the family was molested and she wasn't. In my own opinion I think she was. I believe she did not want to confess that her own father would ever do such a terrible thing.
Shelly was 8 when she told her brother about being molested by the grandfather. He told their mother and of course she said she didn't believe Shelly. Shelly was devastated...but dealt with it on her own. When she was 18, her mother talked to her sister about all the molestations and eventually told Shelly she believed her. (Nothing like waiting until there was an incredible amount of mental damage done to Shelly.) Anyway, Shelly and her mother were now able to talk about the abuse freely. She told me her mother apologized profusely and the fact that she could finally talk about it openly made her "not ashamed"...which is a good thing.
Something else happened to Shelly though...she became very sexually promiscuous and used men. She would have a fling and then discard the men as if they were nothing but mere toys. I believe it was her way of getting even somehow. I don't know that for sure...I'm not a therapist. Also, Shelly told me she doesn't feel the need to see a therapist because she has handled all of this on her own and she is okay; but, I feel as though she does need to see a therapist. I can tell by what she told me that she is not okay. She tells me she is happily married and her past never bothers her...time will tell.
Shelly is stronger than most women and has handled the abuse pretty well, still...I have my doubts about her inner strength. I wish her all the luck in the world and hope someday she will see a therapist and tell her all the things she told me. I know it could only do her good. For one thing, the more this type of abuse is talked about, the more other victims will come forward and speak out. The bottom line is that these sickos of society...the abusers, must be stopped. The only way that will happen is for eventually everyone telling their stories and exposing these horrible people.
Shelly was sexually abused by her grandfather from age 5-13. She told me he never inserted his penis, but would insert his fingers inside her vagina while making her touch his genitals. Please excuse my very blunt description, but there is really no other way to tell these stories if I want to make an impact...and I do. These were her words of describing her horrible ordeal and to sugar coat this kind of story is doing an injustice to the abused females and young boys who have endured this sick kind of abuse.
Her grandfather was her mother's father. Shelly found out that he had also sexually molested her mother's sister and all 6 of her female cousins. I don't know if he molested Shelly's mother or not. The mother says he didn't, but it sounds awfully weird that every other female in the family was molested and she wasn't. In my own opinion I think she was. I believe she did not want to confess that her own father would ever do such a terrible thing.
Shelly was 8 when she told her brother about being molested by the grandfather. He told their mother and of course she said she didn't believe Shelly. Shelly was devastated...but dealt with it on her own. When she was 18, her mother talked to her sister about all the molestations and eventually told Shelly she believed her. (Nothing like waiting until there was an incredible amount of mental damage done to Shelly.) Anyway, Shelly and her mother were now able to talk about the abuse freely. She told me her mother apologized profusely and the fact that she could finally talk about it openly made her "not ashamed"...which is a good thing.
Something else happened to Shelly though...she became very sexually promiscuous and used men. She would have a fling and then discard the men as if they were nothing but mere toys. I believe it was her way of getting even somehow. I don't know that for sure...I'm not a therapist. Also, Shelly told me she doesn't feel the need to see a therapist because she has handled all of this on her own and she is okay; but, I feel as though she does need to see a therapist. I can tell by what she told me that she is not okay. She tells me she is happily married and her past never bothers her...time will tell.
Shelly is stronger than most women and has handled the abuse pretty well, still...I have my doubts about her inner strength. I wish her all the luck in the world and hope someday she will see a therapist and tell her all the things she told me. I know it could only do her good. For one thing, the more this type of abuse is talked about, the more other victims will come forward and speak out. The bottom line is that these sickos of society...the abusers, must be stopped. The only way that will happen is for eventually everyone telling their stories and exposing these horrible people.
Friday, December 30, 2011
Dust Storm
We had to go to Reno today and when we started home around 12:30, the wind was blowing so hard it was not very easy to keep the car on I80 the 30 miles home. Then half way home we ran into the worst dust storm we have seen in years. Sometimes the gusts were so bad you couldn't see anything in front of you...kind of creepy. I was driving, so of course I didn't make Dave put on his brakes on the passengers side. LOL!!! Really though, it was awsesome and scary at the same time. We were so happy to drive into our garage safely. Good Grief...do we need a good rain storm! How about anyone else? Did you experience some bad windy weather today?
Thursday, December 29, 2011
Entered Another Writing Contest
I have written a 7000 word non-fiction story to be entered into another writing contest. I am in the editing phase right now and hope to have it completed next week sometime. I must have it in by January 15th. This story is in a much lighter mood than most of the stories I write and I must admit it was nice not to have to write about the darker side of life for a change. I won't know the results until June 2012.
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