When the Forces of Nature Won’t Let You Sleep.

I haven’t written for quite some time, and this is disgraceful. It’s not that I didn’t have time or subjects to write about; in fact, there has been an abundance of both. However, last night gave me a very good reason to write (and to laugh), because a series of crazy things combined together to disrupt my already strange sleeping habits.

As I think I’ve mentioned before, there is a considerable amount of wildlife in my neighborhood. Maybe not; I was going to write an article, but I was distracted from my purpose. Anyway, a few of my non-human neighbors plotted together to see just what they could do to keep me awake; at least their efforts, instead of putting me in a foul mood, cheered me up, mainly because I was able to fall right back to sleep.

I always go to bed late: it doesn’t matter how much I attempt to get to bed no later than midnight—preferably around 11:30—I never make it until about 12:30 – 1:00. Last night I was on top of the sheets (it was a bit too warm for anything more) at about 12:30 and fell straight to sleep. I was roused from my slumbers at 2:45 by the dulcet tones of my Kitty and our newest feral cat neighbor, Raccoon Cat (the name says it all) quarreling. Kitty’s voice is not very loud, but when she uses that tone of voice, smarter cats than Raccoon Cat turn around and run the other way. He didn’t and so, in order to keep them from waking up the entire neighborhood, I got up to see what the problem was. When I opened the door, Raccoon took off, but when I invited Kitty to come in, she ignored me; she had other things on her mind, as I discovered when she started jumping from one side of the cat carrier to the other: she had “cornered” (more like trapped) a mouse behind the carrier and that’s what the two cats had been arguing about.

Five minutes after returning to bed, and as I was drifting off to sleep, I heard a loud pounce as she pushed the carrier out of the way and captured her prey. I knew the capture had been made because it was followed by a series of terrified squeaks as the torture began… She’s a very good hunter and an even better torturer. Poor little mouse… Fortunately, I fell asleep again before the real fun and games began. And again, thank goodness the results of her prowess disappeared before I got up.

One would think, after this experience, that the denizens of my forest would let me get my beauty sleep, but alas! this was not to be; a few houses down one of the dogs must have had puppies and they decided to have a rather vociferous free-for-all. I felt like tearing out my hair as I listened to magnified growls, yips, out-and-out barking, and tussles as they fought among themselves. Their mother gave a warning growl and peace and quiet returned to the neighborhood until around five o’clock.

The sun was just beginning to conquer the moon when I was once again awakened by the inhabitants of our “woods”; angry chk,chk, chk, chks came, as it seemed, from under my bed. It wasn’t really, but when I heard another sound that I recognized as Big Bird, our red-tailed hawk, menacing the chker, I decided to get up and check things out. And there, to my sand-filled eyes, appeared a big fat squirrel holding one of my next-door neighbors’ tomatoes and threatening Big Bird with his ear-wrecking chatter. I said, “get out of there you stinky old tree rat” and he took off running, the tomato still hanging from his mouth.

Fortunately, this was the last disturbance or, if there were any others, I was fast asleep for the next few hours.

Have any others of you had close encounters of this sort, or similar, when you would rather have been sleeping?

 

© July 9, 2015 by Mary Purpari. All Rights Reserved. All photos taken by Mary Purpari. 

After Sexual Violence: a Story of Hope*

Sexual assault can be a devastating experience that can destroy our very lifestyle, but the emotional pain can be overcome with patience and time.

The evening of September 15, 2002 was without a doubt the most terrifying evening of my life: it was the evening I saw my life pass before my eyes as I faced the man whose intentions were of the basest type – sexual assault and possibly even worse.

Follow Your First Instincts

I’ll admit that I completely left myself open. I was stranded in a tiny Sicilian village named Leonforte on my way to Nicosia – where I was supposed to meet my daughter – after participating in a faculty meeting in Siracusa. Unfortunately, the bus driver neglected to mention hat he would only be going as far as Leonforte, instead of all the way to Nicosia. I was furious, especially since the only pay phone in the “town” was in a bar, and my home phone was busy and my daughter’s cell phone couldn’t be reached.

The only customers were a nice–looking young couple who offered to give me a ride to Nicosia if I paid for the gas. I was unsure – they had been drinking – and I was worried that he might have an accident. With the clarity of hindsight, I could see that the bartender was trying to warn me against it, but I was tired and had absolutely no desire to spend the night on a park bench in an unknown town.

I began to realize I was in trouble about 5 minutes into the ride, when he stuck his right arm over the seat and started caressing my leg and told me he wanted to have sex with me. I scooted as far away as I could, which wasn’t far enough, and then pushed his hand away. After the third time, I had the presence of mind to scratch him.

That, and a lot of fast talking, probably saved me from serious harm. I didn’t pass unscathed emotionally, but I learned a few valuable lessons during the recovery process that I’d like to share.

Report the Incident to the Police

So many men and women refuse to go the police for a variety of reasons, including embarrassment and fear of not being believed. That is so, so wrong! The police need to know, because if they don’t, they can’t stop the offender. As in my case, the offender is very often a repeat offender; not reporting him or her could lead to more victims, something that could have been avoided had the report been made.

Press charges once an identification has been made and the offender has been apprehended. Maurizio had already been identified several times, but when the time came to press charges, the girls gave in to peer pressure and Maurizio was released. I was the first woman to actually take him to court; I won my case and Maurizio now has criminal charges on his record.

Don’t Blame Yourself

A lot of people are going to blame the victim, so you don’t need to do it, too. Thoughts like “if I had only…” are NOT going to help you. Regardless of what you may or may not have done, if someone has intentions of hurting you, they most likely will. I was lucky that he was drunk. If people blame you, stay away from them. They are NOT going to help you recover.

Get Emotional Help

Don’t keep it all for yourself—share it. There weren’t any help groups for victims of sexual assault in Mistretta, and psychologists were hard to come by and expensive if you could find one. However, I had a lot of friends who were willing to lend me an ear and give me hope. My family was a great strength for me, especially my husband, when I would wake up in the middle of the night screaming because of the nightmares.

One friend in particular helped me by encouraging me during the most difficult times, especially when I considered the idea of withdrawing charges. She helped me realize that Maurizio wasn’t going to come get me if he was in prison, but he sure could if he was out. And she was also the one who made me realize that there was nothing to be embarrassed about. I should take it as a compliment, kind of back-handed, perhaps, but still a compliment.

Sing a Song

Something else that helped me immensely was to choose a song to sing every time thoughts of what had happened came to mind. I chose “Angels We Have Heard on High”, and at the beginning ended up singing it about 50 times a day, including in my sleep. I would realize at that moment I was entering a danger zone and quickly change the direction of my thoughts. It was truly a big help.

I can’t tell you what to do in case the rape should result in pregnancy or disease, except to turn to medical and psychological assistance. Pregnancy is such a personal experience and is best understood by you and your doctor, just as only a medical doctor will know how to treat a disease.

A victim of sexual assault will probably never recover completely – 9 years have already passed since my experience, and I still have the occasional nightmare, but my song is always on the ready – but you can still have a satisfying, happy life. We all need help from our friends and professionals in overcoming the pain, but the power to recovery lies mainly in ourselves.

*This blog was originally published on November 21, 2011 by myself, Mary Purpari, for Suite101.com; I hold the copyright. 

“F” is for Flinging Computers Frisbee-like from the Window

   I live in a residential area in Brooklyn, New York. The area is quite unlike anything I expected to find when I decided to move to New York: instead of the expected skyscrapers I found myself facing mainly 2-story buildings; there are a few 3-story buildings and one 4-story building on my street, but they are apartments. Most buildings are one or two family homes. The best part of the area is…

This is the way my article on feral felines began. It was much further along than this, but my laptop, Cedric, decided to eliminate almost everything I had already written, hence, the desire to use him as a Frisbee. It is not the first time he has done this to me; it’s his favorite pastime and he does it very well. He has another little trick that he loves to do: Cedric LOVES to jump backward and forward and even off the screen. Sometimes the results can be hilarious, even though it means having to write everything at least three times before I finish. Geez!

Too well, in fact. The only reason I haven’t given in to my instincts to use him as a Frisbee is that he knows too much about me: who my friends are, what I like to write about, what books I like to read, what plans I have for the future. He contains my photographs, my music, my thoughts.He also knows who my clients are, how much they owe me, how much has and hasn’t been paid and my high scores in solitaire.

He also knows that I happen to have another laptop; I’ve mentioned it to him a number of times and he was there when I bought the other computer: my sister and I bought them together. But, he also knows that I need a monitor to be able to use Bud (my other computer) because Bud’s graphics went kaput after 4 years of steady use, including traveling from Italy to New York via England and Ireland, and then cross-country by bus to California and back to New York, and then to Washington State and back by bus. He worked hard, but there were times I felt like using him as a Frisbee, too.

I guess I’ll have to wait until I get another computer before I fling Cedric Frisbee-like from the window, but the lovely thought of being able to do it IS cathartic and relieves a lot of stress. I yearn for the day…

In the meantime, my feral felines will just have to wait for another blog entry for their 15 minutes in the sun.