It's Just Who I Am
Published on: Jul 22, 2014 @ 17:43 –
I don’t want attention, never did, I just write to settle my mind. I will first openly admit this post is geared towards everyone that knows me, but that does not know me on some sort of personal level. I do not bring my private drama on social media under any circumstances unless it is something so major I can’t deal with on my own. Everyone knows that about me. I’ve been on FB since ’06 or ’07. MySpace since the dawn of social media, YouTube since 2006 sharing my creativeness. I’ve quietly been on the web many years before most. I met my husband on the internet in ’99… from England, so really, certain people have seen my rise and fall, and my rising and falling, over and over again. I’m on the rise again, I hope. I don’t want to fall again. At least not the falls I’ve dealt with in the last 5 years. A person can only take so much and keep standing, and that surprises most people about me, my ability to cope, keep my head up, and keep going.
I have this blog, everyone knows that, on jenslifestory.com but that is too dramatic sounding so I am changing it over to sweetjen.com which is more appropriate given my personality. I can be sweet, but behind that sweet personality, there is a “kick ass” person that hides in there. Those that know me know I will take anyone out given the opportunity if you mess with my family or friends. There are not many women in this world that 1) Is not afraid of anything (except flying, lol), 2) Artistic and creative 3) Will stand down to nobody, including rogue cops that want to taint your image – boy if everyone only knew that story. 4) Take on an entire county here in FL just to do what’s right 5) Fight for any person who has GIVEN ME 5 minutes of their time, not me donating 5 minutes of my time. 6) Despite growing up a horrible life, inspiring anyone that life is still possible to live. 7) Has enough money to take care of anybody who needs it, but doesn’t flaunt it, not even in a simple handbag. IF you have to see me flaunt money it will only show itself in my photography gear. 8) Be a published journalist by age 16, yet graduate high school only knowing special ed English class and still don’t know what hell adverbs and pronouns are. I write how I feel, understand where to use my punctuation and correct grammar. I would speak the same if I didn’t have a fear of public speaking, lol. 9) Handle a firearm like nobody’s business, ha ha.
If I had to thank one person on my friends list that inspired me, it has to be Jacki McGowen , my 9th grade special ed English teacher. For some reason, her young age at the time she taught me, her talking about her “baby” at the time, who is now a probably very nice decent adult human, as I can see, is someone who I wanted to be when I was an adult. Ellen Rebeka, who is not on my friends list, and probably has no idea who I am today, saw in me that person that I was. She used me as her little assistant and wrote me the best recommendation letter that I still keep today for inspiration.
Coach Sak, who most definitely probably doesn’t remember me by name, but will always remember me as the student in typing class that typed faster and more accurate than than him, the teacher, when we competed a couplel times in front of the class, lol. Not many students grew up with the wish to only own a typewriter, and when I finally got one (closest I could get to my own computer) at age 14, my type-writing career began and I haven’t stopped since. I wish Myrna Baugh was still alive. People made fun of her for her VW Beetle car and the fact that she lived an alternate lifestyle, but she is no longer with us, and never got a chance to say thank you for sticking by me. Steve Pyenta who was a very religious man, kept a bible on his desk at school that I always liked seeing there, who would listen to me, and made me value true “history”. Every vacation I take usually incorporates history to teach my kids somewhere, especially when I go to Europe. Mrs. Kimling who most don’t even remember because when I was 10 years old and placed in an institution so my parents could have a vacation from parenting, would visit me. She actually purchased my very first journal and that started me “writing” and guess what… writing does help me, I do it all the time, just like this. I was kept in special ed classes, only 3, under “emotionally impaired” lol so that I could help out the Special Olympians with my sports abilities. I was destroyed so badly in junior high for things I had no control over, that my classmates in high school still held all that against me, those except those who went through the JROTC program where we all learned a little respect for each other, and were comfortable with each other. That is where “Telfer” became who I was known as (and was appropriate for the program), instead of inheriting that name from Mr. Siemers in 4th grade at Grogan for god knows what reason. People were sometimes shocked to learn my name is Jennifer. Yeah, I remember the time one student who I had spent all of elemetary, junior high, and high school with realized I had a name, that was like a “whoa” moment. My travel bug came from Mr. & Mrs. Heifetz at Grogan, who couldn’t admire them. I think they are still alive, though they likely wouldn’t remember me either. I would thank 1st Sgt. Brickey but then I struggle emotionally with how to cope with the man that saved my life being in prison for something heinous. I stood by him until I read the court docs and evidence. I was gutted.
There are douche bags I still won’t friend on Facebook because of who I today still do not have respect as adults for because of the types of adults they became. Heck, there are still “arrogant” people we graduated with I refuse to ever make friends with because they are still arrogant people. But, having since friending Rachel Singleton a long time ago on Facebook, I have learned that people, real people, learn from their wrongs and would never allow their children to grow up to do what they did or at least inspire others. I know that my kids wouldn’t live to see another day if I found out they taunted or harassed others for anything. I know that I have inspired many with what I do now. I never graduated from college, ever, everything I know is self-taught. I’ve been held back for many years. I have been married as most know for going on 15 years. Most people that graduated high school with me knew I had that one boyfriend for two years. It made me happy to finally see he just got married. Though, even he, refuses to accept a friend request. Not really sure why, I’m not threat. I hold no grudges against 99% of people. It makes me happy to see others happy. It makes me happy to help other people more than myself too. I do not look up to anyone, and I never ever stare down to anyone regardless of their social status. Just because I’m fortunate to have a husband who works from home and earns enough money to keep us in good condition, that doesn’t mean anything. Money does not buy happiness. I am the most miserable human being in the world in my mind. I do not know whether or not my Detroit trip helped or hurt. I let a lot of people down by having to leave early. I cried at every simple sight that I missed from home. I drove through Southgate, I cried. I spent a lot of time driving. I like driving. I spent 2 whole days with my brother and niece driving around doing filmography so I could paint the area I know as a complete dump in some sort of good way since downtown Detroit is at least trying to make a comeback, while the rest of the city and area is imploding. I never felt safer even in the middle of the night by myself in downtown Detroit. I felt safe filming and photographing the Michigan Central Station. I’ve heard so many horror stories and my BFF telling me don’t do it, that I did it anyway, and I was proud. If I hadn’t of dragged my brother and niece with me, and they weren’t desperately tired or hungry for helping me out, I would have gone into the 8 mile corridor a little deeper. I got out of my vehicle and walked around the neighbourhood of SW Detroit, inappropriately dressed, a little too classy looking with a dress blouse and floor length skirt with slits up each side (Nike flip flops hiding underneath, lol), and could have easily gotten raped or killed, but when I have my camera with me, I’m just like any photographer that chooses to go into a war zone, you put your fear aside and you just do it. Consequences maybe, but it’s worth it when you were born with a computer in one hand, a camera in the other, the eyes of a camera viewfinder, the hands and mind of a journalist, and the willpower to fight on even though I am the most ignored person in the world.
Yes, I have seen tragedy, I have PTSD more than anyone could imagine, but it just makes me fight harder, and fight stronger every day. If it weren’t for my online community of followers whether it be on YouTube, Twitter, Facebook or any number of other sites, I would have nobody. My son told me, “Why do you have to take pictures of that, when you can go on Google and find one just like it?” My mind blown by that concept, explaining to him that when YOU do it, and it’s YOUR work, it’s not like looking at other’s photos. To know that I jump barriers and get in trouble to get my photographs, adds a story behind it. I’m all about the story behind my photos. Every photo has a story. Every picture is worth 10,000 words, at least. I want people to feel inspired by me. But I don’t need people to fear my existence or fear me as a human. I’m a very nice person, sometimes silly, goofy, whatever, but that’s my personality. If you are on my friends list, I care, and I pay attention. Just because I may not make a comment doesn’t mean I’m not paying attention. My life is overwhelming right now, but I am planning my escapes day by day. It’s easy to do when your husband doesn’t care, you have a live-in babysitter, and the freedom to roam. But, I’m not threat to anyone. I’m just me. Willing to give the world anything to make anyone happy, sometimes, just sometimes, I require a little happiness in return. I hate being ignored though, it hurts my feelings, and it happens every day.
No, I am not depressed, I am very happy, but I do have PTSD and little things make me cry. I just need time to heal those wounds, time I haven’t had yet without another tragedy. I don’t think of people badly if they have religion or not, I’ve seen and been to both sides of the religious wars. I did grow up with an atheist dad and a mother who only bought into the money grabbing tele-evangelists and then swore me to hell when I wouldn’t loan her $5 because I knew it was being abused.
I tell people this sincere mom of four, values Eminem and thinks he’s a creative genius for many reasons. If I could only get 1 minute to shake the man’s hand and tell him his music changed my life and that I make my boys understand his music and the lyrics behind it (censored of course), that would save me creatively. Just 1 minute. Not like his song “Stan” lol as a fan, but just that person out there you’d never think in a million years is inspired by him. Who else can be a white boy named Marshall Mathers living in Detroit and become a legend in rap. The dude has come a long way in life since his first songs that were pretty bad. Personally, I relate to every lyric (not in the same context, but the same meaning type of way) to Toy Soldiers, Not Afraid, Lose Yourself, Headlights, and Monster. This last week, I have fallen in love with his son Berzerk, lol. Anyone who listens to those can imagine me, except I was the female of the house with the whole weight of the world on my shoulders with grandmas house just down the street and a sick mother that I never realized was sick and you couldn’t help her, a father, deadbeat most of the time, both parents mentally and physically ill until they died, me baring the ink that signed both their lives away, just like being covered in their blood. And yes, I would throw the same damn language in those songs, because I feel the same way. I am struggling with faith and trying to understand why if there was a god, has done this to me after so many years of helping others. That’s a personal battle I wage war on myself with. I think I need more inspiration somewhere. If people only spoke up more in my life.
The people that I saw on this trip noticed a difference in me that I need to fix. The ADHD is completely out of control. I spent $250 feeding people in one day, and never finished one meal. Even my BFF kicked me from under the table to take a minute to look at the menu and stop talking. I couldn’t take my medication while I was away because I would have never slept and that is dangerous when you drive there and back. I’m coming back in about 3 weeks by airplane, and yes, it’s worth the fear. Maybe if I spend time with my camera out taking pictures of what’s below it will help ease me there and back. Strange considering I love doing aerial photography, ha ha.
I can’t be drugged and be alone so that can’t happen either. If I travel with others I just get knocked out and then usually can’t remember the first couple days, lol. I can’t do that though. I need to woman up a little and handle it. There are people I need to have lunch and dinner with that I promise I won’t overtalk too. I got that out of my system this trip. And while over-talking if I offended anyone, just understand it’s just me. I’m always worth the time.
