charprincessa

[charprincessa]

#uquiz

[charprincessa]

Princess Madam Mau Mau for #Caturday #rescuecat #blackcat #familiar #greeneyes #instagood #iphoneonly #biscuitfactory (at Honolulu, Hawaii) https://www.instagram.com/p/CknPoS_uToP/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#caturday #rescuecat #blackcat #familiar #greeneyes #instagood #iphoneonly #biscuitfactory

[charprincessa]

There’s nothing sadder than being in a band room without any music. I asked to play the F tuba in the room, but was declined. 😞 eh. That instrument is probably harboring cooties anyway. (at University Laboratory School: A Hawai‘i Public Charter School) https://www.instagram.com/p/CjMAV1dOY7D/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[charprincessa]

Sometimes I skip the Veteran parking spot. Why? Because some people don’t realize Veterans look like me and I get challenged. No one has time for that. My first visit to the VA I was asked if I was lost or needed help finding my husband. It was demoralizing. On Military shopping days I’ve gotten “it’s only for the veteran or active duty member.” I usually ask “How many forms of ID do you need to verify I’m the Veteran? I carry 3.” The Military Women’s Memorial is a 501(c)(3) nonprofit organization in which 70% of it’s donations come from the women it honors!! Next time you’re in DC consider adding the Memorial to your trip or join the Square Foot Society. Today I parked in a sweet spot. #STRONG-HER #BRAVE-HER #BOLD-HER #TOGETHERMWM (at Pearlridge Center) https://www.instagram.com/p/Ci08fZquFaY/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#strong #brave #bold #togethermwm

[charprincessa]

I am grateful for all of the women who thought of my challenge today. The day of self care. Today I confirmed my appointments, renewed my prescriptions, and this year I’m doing the same for my mom. It’s been a difficult transition having a newborn in the house again. This is what it feels like. In addition to healthcare I’ve connected her to her lost family flung around the world. Thank you Ancestry, and Meta. Self care is also spirit care. Renewal. Repair. Rejoice. Remake. Today I embark on a new thing. Let’s see where it goes. #2 Camp Johnson 1998 #3 USS Utah 2022 Me & Marie 24 years apart. She and I have twin spirits. We traveled through diversity together. Both DV Survivors, we saw a kinship in one another. I’m grateful because she saved my life. She was my 988. I think about what I would’ve missed. #WomenVeterans #SuicideAwareness (at Oahu, Hawaii) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cidq7UIO04J/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#2 #3 #womenveterans #suicideawareness

[charprincessa]

Breakers in Haleiwa is shuttering. The home of the best Bloody Mary and Adobo Fried Rice on the North Shore is closing. Their last day is September 5th. Stop by and thank them for the memories. (at Breakers Restaurant & Bar) https://www.instagram.com/p/Ch-ddjrP1Gh/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[charprincessa]

#96786 Don’t forget to vote! (at Wahiawa, Hawaii) https://www.instagram.com/p/ChCNfSquJ2s/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#96786

[charprincessa]

If you drink, don’t drive. If you drive, don’t drink. Don’t add to the population. Don’t subtract from the population. Nothing good happens after midnight. Look out for the other guy, because he’s not looking out for you. #safetystanddown (at Oahu, Hawaii) https://www.instagram.com/p/CfiAWz7JCJF/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#safetystanddown

[charprincessa]

Time to get my Twitch on, also CharPrincessa.

Ready player one, two, three: Twitch comes to Tumblr

We are launching Twitch embeds on web! Simply select the video post option on your dashboard, grab the embed link from the stream you want to share, and paste it into the “Add video from web” field. Click “Post,” and the stream will appear magically on…your post, duh. If you’re a Twitch streamer, you might boost your audience and even make a little pocket money broadcasting here on Tumblr. If you like watching Twitch but want to do more of that from the comfort of your Tumblr dash, well, now you can. So, giddy up: we hope your consoles are on and your headsets poised.

Need to know more? Check out this nifty Help Center article.

If you have any further questions, you can drop us a line on @wip or Support, and keep an eye out for more on @changes.

[charprincessa]

My ex-husband** died late Sunday or early Monday and wasn’t discovered until Wednesday. His home included two dogs, a cat and a dead bird.

He was a son.

He was a brother.

He was a father.

He was an uncle.

He was a friend.

He was a veteran.

He was an abusive, manipulative, and exploitive husband thrice.

When he was found his home was filthy with moldy food, animal feces, candy wrappers, pill bottles and straight up trash. His home reflected the depth of his mental illness. Chaos, entropy, and death ran rampant throughout the home. The time of his death and being found was not long enough to accumulate the wall to wall piles of feces in every room. The stench of decomp punched the uninitiated in the face. My adult son, Jack, was forewarned and arrived with Vicks in his pocket. He set to task opening windows, taking out the trash, picking up animal waste, and clearing a path to the fabled treasure chests. Like Bluebeard’s basement, the treasure chests were off limits to each of his wives. In the mid 90’s the treasure chests held family documents, valuable sports cards and 1st edition comic books. Over the years the content changed, as Jack began working in his father’s secret treasure closet. He uncovered images of me from before his birth and throughout his early childhood. My very early Naval career was well represented too with documents, awards, and photos. There were paparazzi like pictures and private investigator reports chronicling my courtship with my current husband*. While on the outskirts of my budding joy John documented the life I was crafting in detail, it is still unsettling.

I knew something was wrong with him after our son was born and was told it was my hormones.

I knew he was watching and no one believed me.

I told them he was dangerous and it took demolishing 2 other women‘s lives before his family started to question his behavior.

I did keep my son from his father, and only my son can forgive my selfishness.

If I knew 25 years ago my child would have to clean up after his father’s death, I wouldn’t have wished so hard that he would die alone, accompanied by a hungry dog or cat, not found for a couple days, in a hot fetid house, filled with flies, and his mother weeping because it’s closed casket.

There’s power in the curse of an anguished half-Filipino woman descended from the Wizard of Yester. Additionally my mother is close friends with the Virgin Mary, St. Francis of Assisi, and St. Gerard Majella. They talk every day, she often prays for my soul and the souls of our family. We thank The Universe for unanswered prayers. I don’t know how long John was living in squalor. I do know if John passed years earlier, Jack wouldn’t have the maturity, experience, and compassion for his father as he does now.

Though I feel sadness for my son, his cousins, and his father’s family, I’m also relieved and ecstatic. I’ve fallen asleep naturally, no nightmares, and I woke up with the sun. During the last 25 years I was hyperalert, anxious, paranoid, self editing when I was around people I didn’t know, and careful I didn’t share any details. I was on guard to his machinations 24/7 for 25 years. Until he died I didn’t realize how “What if John shows up?” curtailed my life. How he stole joy from me because “What if John showed up?”, “What if one of his friends shows up?” As I built a life I loved surrounded by family and friends, therapy was my constant companion. My weekly chats with the “The Wizard” Dr Harrellson at Camp Geiger began in 1998 after he pushed me down a flight of stairs. She helped me to see that my situation was deteriorating and it was not “hormones”. Dr H set my expectations of mental health treatment. She gave me the first of many offers to leave the service and get away. After a broken nose, burns from the iron, military protective order, and the ineffective Family Advocacy Program (FAP) interventions, I was ready to give up. Later the FAP board would decree I was the abuser and was ordered to attend 6 weeks of female offender group classes with a serving of anger management to clear the order and my record. By the third week my facilitator sent me back to my command… and yet I wouldn’t escape for another 7 months.

There were many dark days. Thoughts about quitting life weren’t rare. At one point I thought he would stop terrorizing or threatening my family if I died. Dark right? Then I would think, he’ll get Jack, if I died, and it wasn’t fair to our son to leave him to John’s devices. This was everyday for 16 years. When Jack turned 18, I thought it was over. It wasn’t.

Fast forward

One year into the pandemic, I felt nestled and ready. Surviving and existing was not enough. I wanted more for my life and family, but to abandon the shadows I needed help, and I got it.

Why not tackle my fears, doubts, and sadness now (April 2021)?

Where was I going?

We were in a pandemic!

My Veteran Affairs Mental Health team has two amazing Women professionals (one is a veteran too!). They helped to debride my invisible wounds and heal. Like dry dressing changes, it hurt.

Virtually attending therapy weekly with a psychologist and a Wounded Warrior Project Odyssey Women’s Dungeons and Dragons group twice a week reinforced my decision to live my life in color and open up to meeting new people. It was my cobbled attempt to develop a personalized Intensive Outpatient Program. Reconnecting with myself was only possible with the support and encouragement from the women veteran community. They’ve been there, done that, and got the t-shirt. Rewriting my trauma account, reading it out loud, and attacking my stuck points was mentally and physically exhausting. Ugly sobbing crying, broken pencil tips, and many tears made up those pages of his worst attack. Though facing therapy with real candor, faked optimism, and genuine hope, I started to shrug off the invisible armor, spackling, and hundreds of tiny bandaids. Eventually my ability to find happiness in tiny doses snowballed into a truly beautiful life. I went from near shut-in, to frequent flier (yes, to and from the US mainland) Dungeons and Dragons enthusiast, and a Community Service event organizer in a year. I still have more to do.

Everything prepared me for this time. A day when my son would ask me “Mama, what do you do when the boogeyman is dead?”

“Anything you want.”

John Brandi was 47.

The cause of death is under investigation.

*Michael and I were married at the now closed Newport, RI Aidan's Irish pub on March 5, 2003.

**We began divorce proceedings on my birthday May 26, 1998 and finalized July 1999.

I’m an advocate for Women and Children affected by Domestic and Sexual Violence. I support the Joyful Heart Foundation, Wounded Warrior Project, and Girl-Up.

#domestic violence #Veteran #HerStory #mental health #WWP #long #closure #VA #resilience

[charprincessa]

18 years ago, I fangirled Dan Brown’s The Da Vinci Code while carrying precious cargo. #beforeitwascool #oldphotograph #lourve #enceinte #35mm #canonrebel 📸: A.Jo.S.H. (at Pyramide du Louvre) https://www.instagram.com/p/Caabm9gv8dZ/?utm_medium=tumblr

#beforeitwascool #oldphotograph #lourve #enceinte #35mm #canonrebel

[charprincessa]

I remember where I was on September 11, 2001. I'm sure you do too. I was teaching a navy medicine advancement course of junior sailors. I thought the event coordinator was messing with me. I was deeply introverted, shy around gorgeous men, and gullible. I felt safe. We were safe. Then when my buddy rendered the room he guided me to cnn. I watched in horror while my students were making flash cards about Motrin, Tylenol, tolnaftate, and more. I knew if I kept it condition normal I’d be better prepared and not stutter or stumble. Two days later my sweet husband’s platform activated and he was in New York in 2days. The experience gave us encouragement to stick it out.

Do you remember where you were any of the years after?

It was my honor to reenlist on September 11, 2003 in Newport, RI. I was working ASF at the time. In two days it would be my ten year anniversary of being in the Navy, as I had left for Recruit Training on September 13, 1993. My reenlisting Officer was the adorable (oh my gosh she is still so cute!) Lorie Conza. She didn't own any cammies and had to borrow her husband's.

I'm not a rare creature. I think it's common for people who reenlist to occasionally shed a tear or two. This day was no exception. The significance of the day wasn't lost on us. We both had attended a remembrance ceremony that same day and security was up at the Naval Station. It was a point of pride to renew commitment to defend my country on the anniversary of the day we were struck in our heart. The events of the day may have snowballed me. As I raised my hand, so did a few tears fall and said my oath of enlistment,

I remember being angry for the pain the families went through.

I remember my fear that day when I drove my car up on a sidewalk to pick up my child to hold him. (I thought it was last days.)

I remembered trying to keep my friend calm on the phone as she drove 90mph on the GW pkw in D.C.

I remember being stunned learning in the weeks to come about how many people I personally knew who's friends and families were directly impacted by those events.

When you look at this picture it may seem incongruous with the solemnity of the day, but when LCDR Conza took this picture Michael had whispered something incredibly inappropriate to me. You see, even back then he couldn't stand to see me cry.

#BabyFaces

[charprincessa]

Veteran Report. Save yourself 20 hours of irritation and avoid a #OneVAPharmacy Flag. ☀️Start at the VAMC eligibility office (nearest your temporary address). Ensure the Representative adds your temporary address and end of use date. 💛-This one thing saves the pharmacy staff 20 minutes.-💛 85% Happy with the outcome. Chris, Michael, Gretchen, Jimmy, and the many pharmacy staff members thank you for your help. (at Washington DC VA Medical Center) https://www.instagram.com/p/CPGiwEQDI9x/?utm_medium=tumblr

#onevapharmacy

[charprincessa]

No matter where I may roam Starbucks feels like home. #FlowerHillStarbucks (at Montgomery County, Maryland) https://www.instagram.com/p/CPEEygjjTJ6/?utm_medium=tumblr

#flowerhillstarbucks

[charprincessa]

1980 vintage windbreaker from the GiTMO pride shop. #militarymonday (at Montgomery County, Maryland) https://www.instagram.com/p/CO-3mKjj9Te/?igshid=vuuj4x9d0thq

#militarymonday

[charprincessa]

This guy used to plead for Pokémon card money, now he’s adding to my #TBR. (at THIRD EYE COMICS) https://www.instagram.com/p/CO9DY8cDuPS/?igshid=bmacewj4skbg

#tbr

[charprincessa]

When a cup of Joe is spent catching up, the latte foam becomes dessert and the conversation a panacea of hope & gratitude. #girltalk (at Morning Brew Kaka'ako) https://www.instagram.com/p/COmGGDpjrJK/?igshid=ju5chxeqyepy

#girltalk