my testimony in short.

taking time out to tell my testimony. The last six years of my life have been a big downward battle for me. In December 2004 I decided I was going to finally leave my wayward husband in MD and return home to Cali. A friend paid for tickets for me, and my 2 sons who were 15 months and the other was 4. I came back to cali having been a housewife for 7 yrs. I was 26. My family welcomed us here and we all stayed in the livingroom of my Aunts home in Moreno Valley. I had been in the church for 7 yrs and was a little sheltered. My cousin and friend quickly changed that. My cousin showed me the hot spots in Riverside and every weekend we were out clubbing. I felt so young and free.
I finally got a job at a mortgage company. My family didn't want to babysit anymore because there was a full house and my aunt was getting tired. Around that time, my husband came to get us and I returned to the DC area. During and argument he threw me into the hot stove and I decided to leave. Only this time, he had papers drawn up taking my sons away from me. I returned to California without my sons.
This destroyed me. I started drinking more and smoking more weed. The clubs became a 3 or 4 day a week thing for us. I was wallowing in my own self destruction.
I had met a man. A thug. He showed me another type of life. It was exciting. and for a while we got along great. I knew he had other women. I didn't care. He was just for pleasure. I was still having fun with my cousins. One night we had been at an APPLE BOTTIOMS party in LA and the emcee called the apple bottom girls up there and a chick walked behind us and said we should be up there instead. Shortly after that, I got pregnant.. I was scared. I did not want to be tied to him forever.
The day we brought our daughter home he swole my face up like a possum. All behind one of his women. After that the beatings continued. I described them in an earlier blog. Eventually I prayed my way out of that relationship.
That was in 2007. so 4 years had passed. I had not seen my sons since may 2005. I was finally able to see them in the Winter 2007. I spent 2 months in MD. Then I returned home to my grandmothers home in Perris. I left granny's house and moved in with my cousin. I got a job and did good for a while. Until I got sick. I knew what it was but was in denial and refused to go to the DR.
I moved in with my pastors and began serving God. I was their secretary and protege. In the summer of 2009 I was diagnosed again with lupus. My pastors prayed. and I went into remission.
I was being groomed for ministry and then Met another man. I had been single for a year or so and this handsome white guy on the praise team swept me off my feet. I left the church with him and shortly after that I found out why his wife left him. He was verbally, mentally, emotionally, and physically abusive. 2 miscarriages. I started smoking cigarettes again and weed.
For a year and a half I put up with his mess, not working, living off my welfare. Abusing me. Threatening to make me lose my daughter if I left.
Well I finally called his bluff and he is gone. My daughter and I are starting a new life and planning to return to VA where my sons now live so I can be closer to them.
In short over six years I lost my sons, had a daughter, allowed myself to be abused by 3 men. Lost my soul, and hit rock bottom.
The seventh year will be a year of redemption and healing.

cont

 As I sit and wait for the Dr. to see me I am looking at a man biting his finger nails rocking back and forth. He is pale in the face and has scratches on his arms. His wrists are bandaged. He is glaring at me. "he's coming for you." he says to me. "You can't hide from him. He knows your thoughts." He leaps towards me "Lana, come in please." Dr. Renna comes out
He begins screaming "arate mote so ro!" He repeats over and over hysterrically before being removed by security.
In the midst of all the commotion I begin to see more figures. I am overwhelmed by the ado and can no longer take it before passing out into The dr. arms.
"

Cont..( this is FICTION)

As the day progresses, I find myself in the midst of a fierce mind battle. Everywhere I look I see transparent figures peering at me from a ditance.
I live a few blocks from my therapist, Dr. Renna. She and I have been talking since childhood, when my grandmother burned to death out side while weeding her garden. I saw her. I remember her screams as she went up in flames. There was nothing around her. No matches, no flammable devices, nothing. She just burned before my eyes. I was 12.
My family accused me of burning her. But there was no evidence. I have been under suspicion for years. The judge ordered me to undergo therapy indefinately so Dr. Rinna and I became close.

to be continued.

this is the beginning of my book. Fiction

Here I am standing in the midst of a storm. The winds blowing fiercely around me. There is nothing else nearby. Just darkness. I can see a face. Eyes of black, no white. It is a smoky figure with talon hands. He has no bones, his eyes, nose and mouth are like black holes. His aura is evil. He glides around me. Whispering in my ear. He is speaking in another tongue, but I understand him. He is telling me that he has me in his hands. He says he lives in me. There is no escaping him. He says I am strong, but not strong enough to defeat him.
Lightning strikes and thunder rolls. It begins to pour rain. I see his army in the distance. They are marching towards me. Black figures, full armor. They are chanting. Their beasts flying around me. I am turning in circles trying to get away. In tears, I fall to the ground on my knees, my face looking to the heavens.
"you can't defeat me, I have always been here. A part of you. God can not help you now. Look around you. You are alone. You have no help. You are surrounded by my brood. He stopped listening to you long ago."

I awaken in a pool of sweat and tears. Another dream. 

It happened again last night. As I lay in bed Saying my prayers I felt him hovering over me. His presence sucking the air out of my lungs. I can't see his face. I do not know if he is white or black, His clothes are dark. He is tall, and thin. He does not speak. He just stands there and hovers over me. The hair on my arms stands up. My stomach begins to turn. "Go away!" I yell out. "leave me alone, I'm tired." He is no longer visible, but I can feel him near.  He is tormenting me. I feel his fingers running through my hair. He is fixated on my hair. "Jesus, help me" He yanks my head back and covers my mouth. I squirm trying to free my self of his hold. He won't let me speak, I can't see. I manage to mutter "JESUS" his grip weakens. he begins sucking the air out of my lungs. He throws me up to the ceiling and back down. "Jesus!" I yell out. He screeches and leaves a cloud of smoke in my room. "Lord, Please" I mumble as I doze off. 
Why didn't my husband help me? He had to hear me. He slept as I was being attacked in our bed. Why? Am I crazy? What is happening to me? Am I alone?




more tomorrow.

next

When I was in the second grade my teacher told my father That I was going to be a famous author one day. I'm 32 years old and haven't published anything yet. I have been afraid to complete my works because of my past. The next couple of blogs will be short stories, poems and maybe even a book. I hope you enjoy them as you read them as they take place. Beginning tomorrow I will express myself in words as God gives them to me. Write to ya tomorrow.

Welcome Home Vietnam Vets

My father was a medic in Vietnam. He saw things no one could imagine. He lost his wife soon after returning. She could not deal with the attitude he developed.
When we were younger he used to run 4 miles every morning before work. Gradually his heart began to weaken. The running stopped. The heart attacks started and the diagnosis of  an enlarged heart and Congestive heart failure followed soon after.
In 2000 he was equipped with a pace maker after being told his heart only worked at 16%. A few years later the VA installed a defiberlator. This year the diagnosis of Ischemic Heart disease was added and recognized as an effect of agent orange.
After over 40 years of living with ptsd and heart disease my father was finally being treated as a Veteran.
Why it has taken so long for these veterans to receive care and honor misses me. These men fought and served their country and came home to a not so happy crowd. They were ridiculed and denied benefits other war vets were basking in. The y fought harder for survival and continue to fought as a result of agent orange. I honor them whenever I see them with a welcome home greeting and its time they received their heroes welcome. Until then I salute you and thank you for your service and example of survival.
Welcome Home

Dreams

The Bible says that in the last days we would have dreams and see visions. I have always been a dreamer. Almost every night My sleep is accompanied by an interesting tale of either Eagles, Snakes, Lions, or Wolves, Tornadoes, Earthquakes or floods, or just plain water. Calm water.
The one I had last night was especially frightening. I was walking along a beach. The sand was a white and soft as the sands of Pensacola. I looked in search of water, but all I could see was a muddy bottom. I walked out as if I were going toward the sea, hoping to find a tiny drop. When I got to the middle of what was supposed to be the Pacific, a whale appeared to me. He turned me around  in every direction. There were fish and other sea creatures living normally as if they were under water. I could not hear, what he was saying. Then I could no longer see. All I could hear was Live your life no matter how hard it seems. Adapt. Don't quit. Then I woke up.

The Money Question

 Has anyone ever asked you what you would do with a million dollars? My friend asked me that today. Someone she knew came into a large amount somewhere near that mark and within a year they were broke again. After paying off debts, helping out family members and paying for a pricy rehab for the women he adored. He had bought a  foreclosed penthouse in the city, a benz a boat, and his love. At the end of the year, He was online filling out an application for SSI, and alone. He sold his home, car, and other toys and bought an RV.

As she was telling me the story I was thinking about what I would have done with that money. Fancy cars and luxury apartments with city views don't tickle my fancy so no matter how hard I tried to picture myself with all the diamonds and furs, gucci and prada, or super shiny benz, the daydream always ends up with either the fur coming alive and attacking my face or the car transforming into a can of wild cherry pepsi exploding all over my clothes.

I would first pay my own debts, and though she was hardly there, I would pay my mothers debts just to say 'Thank you for giving me life'.
Next I would set aside 3 accounts for my children for when they graduated school. Hopefully giving them motivation to pursue a quality education.
I would donate 10 percent to Lupus Research in hopes of a cure being found and the possibility of eliminating the dreadful disease that so many know little about.
10 percent to my church home. That is a given.
I would organize a welcome home celebration for my father and all his fellow Vietnam Veterans who never received a proper welcome home from our government. Right down in Washington, dc
As for a place to call my own, I would move to Delaware. Why? Because it rings in my head everyday. I would love a small ranch and a few horses. If not, Then a small 4 bedroom single story with 2 boxers pups would be just fine. I would start a magazine focused on telling the stories of everyday people because their stories need to be told.
I've never been flashy. I like Burlington Coat Factory, and Ross. Famous Footwear and Payless Shoes. I'm content with being me.
As for the boat, I'd take an Rv around the country for a year raising awareness instead. Hopefully at the end of the year, I would still have something to show for.

Never give up. When things get tough push yourself harder than you ever have. Its times like that when the blessing is just over the hill.
When you quit you miss out on an opportunity to experience maybe the greatest moment of your life.
That is all I have to say today.

In Love, Don't confuse strength with weakness

Yesterday found me reminiscing on my early years. May not seem to important to some but, to me, it was the start of my journey through this rough thing called life. Now some might say that life is only as hard as you make it, while others may feel like no matter what they seem to do it gets harder and harder. you make choices that appear to be the right choice and later find out they were not.
I watched my sister start off bad at a young age. She had left and moved up north with my mom and cousin/step dad. I went to visit one summer and followed her around like a lil lost puupy dog. I was 11 and she was 14. She had so many friends. She smoked, she partied, she had a boyfriend now. She followed behind him everyday tracking him down, crying when he wouldn't talk to her. He called her a crazy little kid. He talked to her like she was nothing and because he was her first, she took it. I would tell her she was being stupid and to just leave him alone, but she said I was too young to understand. She warned me that I would go through the same thing. I vowed I wouldn't.
Fast forward to my adult years. Here I was in the navy. 19 years old and having the time of my life. I was in Virginia when I met him. He was the sweetest most romantic thing around. Within 7 weeks we were married. Within six months, He had cheated. Now I found myself chasing after him. My sister had been abused in all her relationships. Not me. I was stronger than that. I had enough whippings from my dad as a child and no other man would ever put his hands on me. So cheating was nothing to me. A man will be a man. So I forgave him. After all, he didn't hit me. After 2 sons, 6 years and only God knows how many stripper mistresses later, he did. He had been out all night again and the boys needed milk and diapers. I was angry. I cussed him out and continued fussing until the baby woke up. He was hungry. I started breast feeding him and his dad started choking me. That was it. A year later an old friend paid our airfare back to California and we were gone. We tried to reconcile but he was still controlling, and unfaithful. I returned again to California with out my sons. Then I met another. Short skinny gangster type. He had a background. But I told myself he would be different with me. Until I had our daughter, he was. I didn't love him so much. I was afraid. The day our daughter came home from the hospital he swole the right side of my face like a possum. For the next 7 months I would have to endure beatings with shovels, crowbars, beer bottles, socks down my throat, have to hide him out after he pistol whipped his oldest kids mother at a party, being kidnapped, and him having sex in our home with various ladies of liesure with me in the other room. One night I was so tired I took a bath and prayed out to God. I told him that if he got him out of my life I would get myself right with God. He burst in and threw a shoe at me. 3 days later he was in jail. Two years later he was sentenced to 12 years in prison. I was free. For about a year I stayed single. In comes David. We met in church. Both of us directors of a sober living home and praise team members. We left the church. He too had a background. But he  never spent time in prison for it. How bad could he be right? Wrong.  With him its different. Its harder. One day he could be my best friend, the next my worst enemy. He is faithful. Pays attention to me. Kisses me goodnight and says I love you. He too has his violent days. He is so good at he knows where to hit without leaving marks. A friend met him and told my sister, who is now dating a fireman who treats her like a queen, anyway , he told her of a dream he had about David hitting me and killing me in the middle of the street. I brushed it off. And another outsider told me he would kill me one day if I didn't get away. So I tried, and he tried. So where does that leave me. Stuck trying to figure out a way to get out without losing my life, my daughter, or anything I have.
 What they don't tell you. Over the years I tried counseling for domestic violence. All I was told was to get away. To leave. Call the police. They don't address the issues of fear, failure, depression, and loneliness.
Fear. Someone can break you down so much that you fear everyone else more than you fear them. You are so used to a life that normal living has you running. They threaten you or your family and show you one way or another that they are able to carry out the threats. So you call yourself sacrificing your own safety to protect others you love. For some who have constantly experienced abuse, the fear of loving again, trusting another comes in to play. You begin to see all of them the same way and find yourself alone. Something you didn't want to do. Then you feel like a failure. Afraid to move forward because of the chains that you carry with you. In my case, I let myself go. I took my dreams off the back burner and put them in the cupboard. I began to settle for what I was getting. I was now diagnosed with lupus, in an abusive relationship, on welfare,  without my sons, and depressed.
My 80 year old landlord called me a beautiful but weak woman. A very weak woman. He pissed me off and I wanted to tell him something, but he was right and all I could do was lock myelf in the bathroom and weep. All this time I had told myself that I was strong. Not many people Could endure what I had endured. In reality, the strong ones Would NOT have to endure because they would leave before it escalated that far. They know their value and I didn't. I had been shattered so badly that I could not determine the difference between strngth and weakness anymore. I was not only  prey to the cowardly men who use and abuse women all in the name of love and a victim of self destruction, I was my own worst enemy.
I had prayed for God to give me strength and realized He didn't give it to me, He gave me  opportunities to be strong.
All in a matter of 13 years I had become everything I said I never woud be. Divorced. Away from my sons, raising my daughter alone, on welfare, a victim, and a cocward myself. It took an 80 year old blind man telling me I was beautiful, but very weak for me to realize that.
Now I'm on the road to healing my wounds and following my dreams.
Thank you for reading, Happy Thanksgiving and I hope I have touched the heart of someone in need of healing and as I heal maybe you can do the same. God bless.

The Beginning of me.

This is my first time writing my thoughts for everyone to read. Let me first start by introducing myself. My name is Charita Marie Vining. I was born May 1, 1978. My father Curtis, was employed at Boeing in Ft. Irwin, Ca. My mother was a homemaker. We lived on a ranch in Grandview, just outside Barstow. In his spare time, my dad raced horses. My mother played Yahtzee with her aunt and girlfriend. I had a sister, Crista, about 3 1/2 years older than me. My parents divorced when I was around 4 and my father took it hard. He had let his first cousin and his family come live with us in our two bedroom one bathroom home. Before he knew it, he had run away with his wife. Daddy would get drunk and tell us to call our mama because he was going to kill himself. Then he would take off toward the river and leave us home crying and screaming for him. Some way we would end up at mamas house crying and confused. Then here would come daddy, kicking the door in as we clutched together crying. My sister cradling me telling me it was going to be okay. They'd argue. Then daddy would grab us up and put us in the van and we'd drive home listening to how much mama didn't care about us. How she abandoned us. This went on the duration of the divorce proceedings. He'd let her come get us, then burst in and grab us everytime. Eventually, He was awarded custody and the ranch. She was allotted visitation and the 40 acres in Hinkley they had bought, which she would lose later.
Our first Thanksgiving without mom was wierd. My 7 year old sister cooked dinner. I remember it was the best dinner I had had. With the exception of the turkey of course. She quickly became mom to me. She would wake me up. We'd walk outback and feed the animals around 4 am while daddy got dressed for work. She would brush my hair, feed me and make sure I was dressed. Then he would drop us off at Phyllis' house and go to work. Later it would be Trudys'. Trudy kept about 20 other local kids. It was heaven for a kid.
By the time I started Kindergarten he had met Becky, and she and her kids moved in.
I remember my first day of school. Becky got us dressed. I wore a pink and white fuzzy sweater and pair of jeans. I had a pair of white sneakers and my hair tied in a ponytail. I had just gotten a new She-ra lunch pail. I cried until my sister would take a picture with me. So Becky made her. Becky cried when it was time to go. We had become her girls. I was looking for my mom to come end me off, but she didn't come. I was disappointed until I had gotten to school and just as I was about to go inside the gate, I heard my mom call my name. She had met me there. "daddy said you weren't coming mommy," I said to her. " I wouldn't miss this for the world. My baby is a big girl now. She is starting school already. Slow down baby, you're growing up to fast," she replied. The bell rang and she kissed me and watched me go inside.

Well, that's all I have to write today. That is the beginning of me, as I remember it.