Actor Crush of the Day: Ewan McGregor
I need to accept that.
Dr. Mower says, though I seek for people to understand me, there will never be any guarantee that anyone will. There may be some who never do.
The moment in therapy where I was like, "OH!", and knew what he was talking about, was good, but trying to apply this in practice is a bit more difficult. Okay, so quite a bit more difficult.
Some people will just never "get" me. Even if they think they do, or say they do.
And, some of these people will be hurt and offended that they think I don't "get" them.
It's not a quid pro quo, really. I may very well "get" them, even if they think I don't, but the reality is, if the person who wants to be understood, doesn't feel as though you do, it's actually beside the point, irrelevant, that you DO understand them. If they don't feel you do, then it is as though you DON'T.
So, how do we get through this? When people both don't "get" each other, or when one person "gets" the other, and the other doesn't "get" this person? Variations as well of one feeling the other person "gets" them, or not.
It seems to me that accepting that some people just will not understand, is going to be a fundamentally FREEING concept, in many ways; I can feel the grasp of this, just out of reach. When I lay hold of it though, I think it will be sweet. Then it won't matter whether others "get" me or not. It'll be one more step closer towards not worrying about what people think of me, and "freeing" me up towards acting how I see fit, regardless of whether or not I feel other people will approve of my behavior. It will REALLY free me up towards doing those things I feel necessary, and/or want to do, that I am pretty sure some around me WON'T like and/or approve of.
Anyway, I'm pondering this, and being somewhat depressed that certain people in particular seem to never, in the end, "get it", and so I need to just accept that. Somehow.
Monday, January 30, 2006
Thursday, January 26, 2006
Simple Contentment
Sometime late in December, or maybe it was mid-December, I had a sweet experience.
I was standing at the stove, flipping over slices of Spam, as I was frying them in order to somewhat replicate the taste of bacon.
I really started feeling "in the moment", and very intensely "there". I thought about a few things, some very simple things, such as what a domestic kind of thing I was doing, standing there humming a tune whilst flipping some admittedly mystery meat.
I thought, do I feel Happy? I answered myself, "No, not really . . .". Do I feel sad? "Definitely not." I was feeling something pleasant, though, that was growing stronger.
I became ever-more rooted in the moment, in the present I was experiencing, and realized that I was Content. I marveled at this, a little bit, and questioned it inside, but these further thoughts cemented it in my heart: I had what I always wanted, to be a wife and mother, to have a roof over our heads (albeit an apartment), and clothes on our backs, and food (okay, so Spam is rather questionable in that category, lol!) in our mouths.
I WAS CONTENT. So much was going on with me in life, that, as I stood there at the stove, I was able to really be Present, and take simple pleasure in simple things, tasks, and activities. I felt a peace that I cannot describe . . . . and I was content.
Joy, while a great thing, is not sustainable. At least, I find that the moments I think of as joyful, such as the birth of my daughter, my wedding day to my husband, are the mountain peaks of my life.
I wouldn't say that happiness isn't sustainable, but I feel that contentment could actually be a more profound and sustainable frame of mind/experience, than being Happy all the time . . . .
I felt, as I stood there at the stove, that I was the luckiest person on earth . . . how many other people really feel that they have what they always wanted? I don't think a majority . . .
For that half hour or so that I felt this, I WAS the luckiest person on earth.
Now, obviously I wasn't able to sustain that, and I'm not sure anyone can every second, BUT I look forward to feeling that again, especially now that I know it is possible! With all my mood problems with my mental illnesses, it was so sweet to be truly content.
Now, even then I knew, of course, I didn't have EVERYTHING I always wanted, or even some very important things that I consider essential, such as being married in the temple, which I have not been, yet, or even having gone through the temple, which again, I have not, yet. Having more of an education would be good too, although I have not been capable of sustaining the activities required. I was grateful, though, for having what I did have that I had always wanted.
I've hesitated for awhile to post this, for fear of family saying, see? There you go, it's as simple as that, just do that and you'll be fine . . . . Or when I'm having a hard time, of having this experience held up to me and used as a tool or a judgement by others of any difficult moods, behaviors, or other difficulties that I might be having.
I was standing at the stove, flipping over slices of Spam, as I was frying them in order to somewhat replicate the taste of bacon.
I really started feeling "in the moment", and very intensely "there". I thought about a few things, some very simple things, such as what a domestic kind of thing I was doing, standing there humming a tune whilst flipping some admittedly mystery meat.
I thought, do I feel Happy? I answered myself, "No, not really . . .". Do I feel sad? "Definitely not." I was feeling something pleasant, though, that was growing stronger.
I became ever-more rooted in the moment, in the present I was experiencing, and realized that I was Content. I marveled at this, a little bit, and questioned it inside, but these further thoughts cemented it in my heart: I had what I always wanted, to be a wife and mother, to have a roof over our heads (albeit an apartment), and clothes on our backs, and food (okay, so Spam is rather questionable in that category, lol!) in our mouths.
I WAS CONTENT. So much was going on with me in life, that, as I stood there at the stove, I was able to really be Present, and take simple pleasure in simple things, tasks, and activities. I felt a peace that I cannot describe . . . . and I was content.
Joy, while a great thing, is not sustainable. At least, I find that the moments I think of as joyful, such as the birth of my daughter, my wedding day to my husband, are the mountain peaks of my life.
I wouldn't say that happiness isn't sustainable, but I feel that contentment could actually be a more profound and sustainable frame of mind/experience, than being Happy all the time . . . .
I felt, as I stood there at the stove, that I was the luckiest person on earth . . . how many other people really feel that they have what they always wanted? I don't think a majority . . .
For that half hour or so that I felt this, I WAS the luckiest person on earth.
Now, obviously I wasn't able to sustain that, and I'm not sure anyone can every second, BUT I look forward to feeling that again, especially now that I know it is possible! With all my mood problems with my mental illnesses, it was so sweet to be truly content.
Now, even then I knew, of course, I didn't have EVERYTHING I always wanted, or even some very important things that I consider essential, such as being married in the temple, which I have not been, yet, or even having gone through the temple, which again, I have not, yet. Having more of an education would be good too, although I have not been capable of sustaining the activities required. I was grateful, though, for having what I did have that I had always wanted.
I've hesitated for awhile to post this, for fear of family saying, see? There you go, it's as simple as that, just do that and you'll be fine . . . . Or when I'm having a hard time, of having this experience held up to me and used as a tool or a judgement by others of any difficult moods, behaviors, or other difficulties that I might be having.
My Daughter Tied Shoelaces For the First Time!
Actor Crush of the Day: Matthew Fox Awesome! She came home today with this Learn to Tie Your Shoes thing we had ordered from a Scholastic Book Flyer for her.
First, I went through the Bunny Ears method with her, and we weren't having much luck. I walked away for ONE minute, I come back, and they are tied!!!
I said, "Did you do that?" and she said, "Yes, I did it Mommy!"
She had turned to the directions for the Loop the Loop method, and followed each of those steps and tied them!
No matter how much explaining and showing and helping we've done with her and her own shoes, it hadn't happened yet. I really think having the two different sides of laces be different colors, and shown that way in the instructions, was just the "trick" that she needed for everything to click!
I am so proud of her. She is SO smart!
Wednesday, January 18, 2006
Faith Vs. Reckless Optimism Vs. Refusal to Deal With Reality
How does one know that holding tight to faith, in a situation where EVERYTHING says there is no hope, or at least it seems that way, how does one know that it isn't just the same old reckless enthusiasm/optimism?
That it isn't just a refusal and/or inability to deal with the harsh reality of a situation?
That it isn't unrealistic; that you aren't fooling yourself, pulling the wool over your own eyes, burying your head in the sand?
Holding on to faith, because the alternative is something you can't cope with . . . . does this imply that your faith is just a way to avoid accepting reality, that you are hiding, running away from deep pain, as you always have, your entire life? Am I the horse with blinders on, refusing to acknowledge and accept the realities of the situation, refusing to acknowledge their existence, and so becoming the fool who mayhap still be calling Noah a fool whilst standing neck-deep in the torrential rains?
Could it just be also, your illness swaying you towards the unrealistic expectations and hope that it often does? Could it be the intense and desperate need I feel inside, the very little girlish magical wish to be taken care of, that causes me to feel that I can just set aside the implications and ramifications of the situation, and just hold on to faith?
How do I KNOW? That it isn't just me, SCREWING UP all over again?
I prayed last night, and believe the answer to be, "Trust the Lord with all thy heart and lean not unto thine own understanding." This spoke to my inside self very quietly. Nothing overwhelming, and no wash of peace, at least nothing like anything I've received before. There was a sense that holding onto THIS would help keep me from drowning in the storm of emotion. Keep me from being swept away, forever. And, we are asked to do this in the scriptures, anyhow.
Still, I recognize that cognitively, I may be clinging to this because I CANNOT CONTEMPLATE the alternative.
I do not know, though, if my illnesses and difficulties feeling what the reality of the situation should be or is, feeling through my skewed perceptions, I do not know if they are skewing even this. As, I have blindly forged ahead before, and not dealt with situations that mayhap should have been dealt with.
What I DO know, though, is I must hold tight to this trust in the Lord. I MUST. Mine own understanding is so skewed, is so mired in various issues and so many things that sway everything, that I cannot trust it. I CANNOT TRUST IT. And so, I am trusting the Lord.
He knows my situation, of mental illnesses. He knows my capacities and my weaknesses . . . . as much as I feel like my judgment in matters of discerning appropriate actions, discerning and deciding appropriate attitudes and ways of coping or not, He knows these things, and will take them into account. At least, I have faith that He will do so, because that is all I can believe, in order to proceed . . . I cannot proceed with anything less than that belief . . .
Am I an ostrich with my head in the sand? Perhaps. But I trust that the Lord will divert traffic around me, so I won't get hit in the rear as I investigate closely the sandpile in which my head is finding rest. I am finding rest in the Lord. I am trusting him to be my rear guard. (Teehee! at least I can find some humor in this, somewhere . . . .)
As to whether or not I should be taking any action, or considering other aspects of the situation . . . of course my mind keeps whirling desperately on everything. But . . . I cannot, I just . . . I quail at the very trial that has been thrust upon us. I desperately RUN and fear and die inside, at the very facts of the situation I am in. I can't . . . . I just . . . I cannot . . . . approach the thing . . . . I . . . cannot think beyond half an hour, to half a day from now . . . . I am horrified . . . . and yet, I cling to my faith.
My faith, is all I have. And yet, I do not mean to put down my faith, with all this rambling. Faith is a GOOD thing. My faith is All. Right now, anyway.
Am I just clinging to faith as a last ditch option? If so, does this lessen any meaning in my choice of holding on to faith, in the Lord's eyes?
Even if I am not clinging to it as a last ditch option, does my holding to faith when there seems no other option but despair, also lessen any meaning in my choice of holding on to faith, in the Lord's eyes? Some might say this is the same as the previous option, but there IS a distinction . . . .
As well, I know I am CHOOSING faith; that I am not just "landing" there as a last option, as a last stop before falling, forever, into despair and non-existence. Even though there feels nothing left to do BUT have faith, in the way of holding on to something . . . . I am still choosing it.
I can feel this in my heart and soul, because it is taking much more strength to do this than I might have thought. It is taking so much of me, to do this, to choose this, to hold on to this. I am choosing faith, and this faith is holding me together as if it were a glue; keeping me from being scattered to the four winds of this storm.
Does there seeming to be no other positive option, LESSEN the offering to the Lord of my faith I am giving him, of my trust, is this lessened by there seeming to be no other positive option?
I do not know, but I know that, not as the world sees, does the Lord see. He sees in ways, that we cannot even comprehend. I have this sense that only He truly can know the value and truth of any offering of faith and trust. I only hope that my humble offering is judged worthy. And by worthy, I don't mean that there needs to be tangible reward or evidence of such. I just need to keep on . . . .
Moving forward with an action that, does not have ANYTHING to do with the situation, and yet, in itself, this action is profoundly affected by this situation, and, in fact, the world would probably think I am nuts for proceeding with said action . . . . but I feel a prompting to do so.
It has no bearing on the situation, and yet the situation has an extreme bearing on this action. I feel as though I am poised upon one of the red cliffs that edge Lake Powell in Southern Utah; I feel like holding my nose, squeezing my eyes shut tight, curling up into a ball as I jump off the cliff, and shout, "Geronimooooooooo-ooooooooo!", as I plunge downwards into the lake below.
I feel blind-folded, and being asked to feel my way forward within a room that is walled and floored with a fairly densely-packed field of nails. Oh, and that the inner balance most people have? Well, in this scenario it is as though my inner ear is completely off; I have no natural sense of balance, this representing the mental illnesses in this allegory. And so, I proceed . . . painfully, as one might imagine . . . and yet, if it is asked of me by the Lord, who am I to say no . . . . . I do not say no, but I wish so mightily that this cup would not be set at my place . . . . I think it is human of me to admit that I have much difficulty with this, that I don't even know how to approach it. But I do not say no, to the Lord. I do think, though, that He understands my struggle and expressions of fear (well, I do have GAD, after all, lol!)
Faith, in its depths and infinite applications and requirements and qualities . . . . . is . . . . profound, and so much against logic and reason, in so many ways . . . . it is sweet, and precious, but the requirements of holding fast to it, can be so harsh, so unfathomably difficult . . . I do not say this in way of "Oh, woe is me", but in the manner of discussing these issues of faith and struggle and mental illness and to illustrate the processes I am going through. And, in some small measure, in trying to express to YOU what it is I am feeling, I feel . . . as though some small purpose may be served, and this, also, gives me some small thing to cling to. As though I am clutching a teddy bear, in this storm, and holding it close as I cling fast to faith, battered though I feel.
I even feel guilty for quailing at the thought, although I know He would understand my fear and distress. As long as I hold to my faith. Perhaps I should name this room full of nails, the valley of the shadow of death, because I am literally in that shadow . . . if I had not this faith, I would have nowhere to run but death itself.
And so, in summation: If I am an ostrich, then I am a blessed ostrich, and I pray the Lord keep the sand out of my ears, and that he act as my rear guard.
Update: Like you want one, lol! I dunno, maybe I'm just being naive. Just because you stick your head in the sand, doesn't mean your butt isn't gonna get kicked. And, in fact, it makes you present an easier target for said butt-kicking. There's nothing particularly saintly or faithful about pulling the wool over ones' eyes and hiding.
So maybe I have nothing to hold onto after all.
That it isn't just a refusal and/or inability to deal with the harsh reality of a situation?
That it isn't unrealistic; that you aren't fooling yourself, pulling the wool over your own eyes, burying your head in the sand?
Holding on to faith, because the alternative is something you can't cope with . . . . does this imply that your faith is just a way to avoid accepting reality, that you are hiding, running away from deep pain, as you always have, your entire life? Am I the horse with blinders on, refusing to acknowledge and accept the realities of the situation, refusing to acknowledge their existence, and so becoming the fool who mayhap still be calling Noah a fool whilst standing neck-deep in the torrential rains?
Could it just be also, your illness swaying you towards the unrealistic expectations and hope that it often does? Could it be the intense and desperate need I feel inside, the very little girlish magical wish to be taken care of, that causes me to feel that I can just set aside the implications and ramifications of the situation, and just hold on to faith?
How do I KNOW? That it isn't just me, SCREWING UP all over again?
I prayed last night, and believe the answer to be, "Trust the Lord with all thy heart and lean not unto thine own understanding." This spoke to my inside self very quietly. Nothing overwhelming, and no wash of peace, at least nothing like anything I've received before. There was a sense that holding onto THIS would help keep me from drowning in the storm of emotion. Keep me from being swept away, forever. And, we are asked to do this in the scriptures, anyhow.
Still, I recognize that cognitively, I may be clinging to this because I CANNOT CONTEMPLATE the alternative.
I do not know, though, if my illnesses and difficulties feeling what the reality of the situation should be or is, feeling through my skewed perceptions, I do not know if they are skewing even this. As, I have blindly forged ahead before, and not dealt with situations that mayhap should have been dealt with.
What I DO know, though, is I must hold tight to this trust in the Lord. I MUST. Mine own understanding is so skewed, is so mired in various issues and so many things that sway everything, that I cannot trust it. I CANNOT TRUST IT. And so, I am trusting the Lord.
He knows my situation, of mental illnesses. He knows my capacities and my weaknesses . . . . as much as I feel like my judgment in matters of discerning appropriate actions, discerning and deciding appropriate attitudes and ways of coping or not, He knows these things, and will take them into account. At least, I have faith that He will do so, because that is all I can believe, in order to proceed . . . I cannot proceed with anything less than that belief . . .
Am I an ostrich with my head in the sand? Perhaps. But I trust that the Lord will divert traffic around me, so I won't get hit in the rear as I investigate closely the sandpile in which my head is finding rest. I am finding rest in the Lord. I am trusting him to be my rear guard. (Teehee! at least I can find some humor in this, somewhere . . . .)
As to whether or not I should be taking any action, or considering other aspects of the situation . . . of course my mind keeps whirling desperately on everything. But . . . I cannot, I just . . . I quail at the very trial that has been thrust upon us. I desperately RUN and fear and die inside, at the very facts of the situation I am in. I can't . . . . I just . . . I cannot . . . . approach the thing . . . . I . . . cannot think beyond half an hour, to half a day from now . . . . I am horrified . . . . and yet, I cling to my faith.
My faith, is all I have. And yet, I do not mean to put down my faith, with all this rambling. Faith is a GOOD thing. My faith is All. Right now, anyway.
Am I just clinging to faith as a last ditch option? If so, does this lessen any meaning in my choice of holding on to faith, in the Lord's eyes?
Even if I am not clinging to it as a last ditch option, does my holding to faith when there seems no other option but despair, also lessen any meaning in my choice of holding on to faith, in the Lord's eyes? Some might say this is the same as the previous option, but there IS a distinction . . . .
As well, I know I am CHOOSING faith; that I am not just "landing" there as a last option, as a last stop before falling, forever, into despair and non-existence. Even though there feels nothing left to do BUT have faith, in the way of holding on to something . . . . I am still choosing it.
I can feel this in my heart and soul, because it is taking much more strength to do this than I might have thought. It is taking so much of me, to do this, to choose this, to hold on to this. I am choosing faith, and this faith is holding me together as if it were a glue; keeping me from being scattered to the four winds of this storm.
Does there seeming to be no other positive option, LESSEN the offering to the Lord of my faith I am giving him, of my trust, is this lessened by there seeming to be no other positive option?
I do not know, but I know that, not as the world sees, does the Lord see. He sees in ways, that we cannot even comprehend. I have this sense that only He truly can know the value and truth of any offering of faith and trust. I only hope that my humble offering is judged worthy. And by worthy, I don't mean that there needs to be tangible reward or evidence of such. I just need to keep on . . . .
Moving forward with an action that, does not have ANYTHING to do with the situation, and yet, in itself, this action is profoundly affected by this situation, and, in fact, the world would probably think I am nuts for proceeding with said action . . . . but I feel a prompting to do so.
It has no bearing on the situation, and yet the situation has an extreme bearing on this action. I feel as though I am poised upon one of the red cliffs that edge Lake Powell in Southern Utah; I feel like holding my nose, squeezing my eyes shut tight, curling up into a ball as I jump off the cliff, and shout, "Geronimooooooooo-ooooooooo!", as I plunge downwards into the lake below.
I feel blind-folded, and being asked to feel my way forward within a room that is walled and floored with a fairly densely-packed field of nails. Oh, and that the inner balance most people have? Well, in this scenario it is as though my inner ear is completely off; I have no natural sense of balance, this representing the mental illnesses in this allegory. And so, I proceed . . . painfully, as one might imagine . . . and yet, if it is asked of me by the Lord, who am I to say no . . . . . I do not say no, but I wish so mightily that this cup would not be set at my place . . . . I think it is human of me to admit that I have much difficulty with this, that I don't even know how to approach it. But I do not say no, to the Lord. I do think, though, that He understands my struggle and expressions of fear (well, I do have GAD, after all, lol!)
9 Have not I commanded thee? Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the LORD thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest.
(Old Testament Joshua 1:9)
----------------
36 Yea, and cry unto God for all thy support; yea, let all thy doings be unto the Lord, and whithersoever thou goest let it be in the Lord; yea, let all thy thoughts be directed unto the Lord; yea, let the affections of thy heart be placed upon the Lord forever.
(Book of Mormon Alma 37:36)
Faith, in its depths and infinite applications and requirements and qualities . . . . . is . . . . profound, and so much against logic and reason, in so many ways . . . . it is sweet, and precious, but the requirements of holding fast to it, can be so harsh, so unfathomably difficult . . . I do not say this in way of "Oh, woe is me", but in the manner of discussing these issues of faith and struggle and mental illness and to illustrate the processes I am going through. And, in some small measure, in trying to express to YOU what it is I am feeling, I feel . . . as though some small purpose may be served, and this, also, gives me some small thing to cling to. As though I am clutching a teddy bear, in this storm, and holding it close as I cling fast to faith, battered though I feel.
I even feel guilty for quailing at the thought, although I know He would understand my fear and distress. As long as I hold to my faith. Perhaps I should name this room full of nails, the valley of the shadow of death, because I am literally in that shadow . . . if I had not this faith, I would have nowhere to run but death itself.
Psalm 23I never thought about this Psalm as being all about faith, before. It's about many things, but faith is definitely one of them.
Psalm of David.
1 THE LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.
2 He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.
3 He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.
4 Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
5 Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.
6 Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life; and I will dwell in the house of the LORD for ever.
(Old Testament Psalms 23:4)
And so, in summation: If I am an ostrich, then I am a blessed ostrich, and I pray the Lord keep the sand out of my ears, and that he act as my rear guard.
Update: Like you want one, lol! I dunno, maybe I'm just being naive. Just because you stick your head in the sand, doesn't mean your butt isn't gonna get kicked. And, in fact, it makes you present an easier target for said butt-kicking. There's nothing particularly saintly or faithful about pulling the wool over ones' eyes and hiding.
So maybe I have nothing to hold onto after all.
Saturday, January 14, 2006
A Need for Intensity
Actor Crush of the Day: I am my own woman, today. Not that I am not on other days. But send all the cute men packing, I am woman, hear me ROAR.
As I was watching Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith today, as it approached the climactic Mustafar sequences, I felt a satisfaction and a matching to the intensity of what I feel, as the intensity of the movie built to this.
I could watch the scenes there over and over (at least, before Anakin makes his big mistake), especially the two men, and the intensity of their relationship and the drama that unfolds between them.
I often listen to John Denver, Barry Manilow, Celine Dion, Josh Groban, and other people who really belt it out, when it calls for it (singers nowadays don't seem to, much). It matches the strength of what I'm feeling inside; it's like my pain, and everything I'm feeling, gets caught up in the intensity of the song, drama, what-have-you, and gets carried away. To a certain extent.
It's very satisfying, but as I identified this issue tonight, at least in a much more specific way than I have before, I also identified my strong need for intensity. This may be part of the bipolar recklessness; I am not sure. But I NEED it like I need to be loved. And, when I am experiencing a satisfying intensity, whether through media, or exuberant joy at the thought of beads I've purchased winging their way towards me through the mail, or other things, I'm zeroed in on the strength of it, the encompassing fulness of it, and am as a mule who can't be budged, it seems.
I seem to be running out of ways to experience such intensity, though, and to fight the urges within to act . . . in a manner that many might find shocking, is . . . well, part of my struggles, I guess. I HATE THIS.
For those who remember some LDS Primary songs, sing THIS to the tune of "Geaneology, I am doing it".
Irresponsibility, I am doing it, my irresponsibility,
And I can't restrain, though I really try, this inevitable refrain
Irresponsible, Irresponsible, I am so irresponsible
I am trying but it's trying, my irresponsible!
I don't know if I've remembered the meter right, to that song.
Calgon, TAKE me away. Oy, that's an old commercial . . . .
As I was watching Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith today, as it approached the climactic Mustafar sequences, I felt a satisfaction and a matching to the intensity of what I feel, as the intensity of the movie built to this.
I could watch the scenes there over and over (at least, before Anakin makes his big mistake), especially the two men, and the intensity of their relationship and the drama that unfolds between them.
I often listen to John Denver, Barry Manilow, Celine Dion, Josh Groban, and other people who really belt it out, when it calls for it (singers nowadays don't seem to, much). It matches the strength of what I'm feeling inside; it's like my pain, and everything I'm feeling, gets caught up in the intensity of the song, drama, what-have-you, and gets carried away. To a certain extent.
It's very satisfying, but as I identified this issue tonight, at least in a much more specific way than I have before, I also identified my strong need for intensity. This may be part of the bipolar recklessness; I am not sure. But I NEED it like I need to be loved. And, when I am experiencing a satisfying intensity, whether through media, or exuberant joy at the thought of beads I've purchased winging their way towards me through the mail, or other things, I'm zeroed in on the strength of it, the encompassing fulness of it, and am as a mule who can't be budged, it seems.
I seem to be running out of ways to experience such intensity, though, and to fight the urges within to act . . . in a manner that many might find shocking, is . . . well, part of my struggles, I guess. I HATE THIS.
For those who remember some LDS Primary songs, sing THIS to the tune of "Geaneology, I am doing it".
Irresponsibility, I am doing it, my irresponsibility,
And I can't restrain, though I really try, this inevitable refrain
Irresponsible, Irresponsible, I am so irresponsible
I am trying but it's trying, my irresponsible!
I don't know if I've remembered the meter right, to that song.
Calgon, TAKE me away. Oy, that's an old commercial . . . .
Friday, January 13, 2006
How much info for a child? &, I miss my friend.
Emily Question or Quote of the Day: I like to learn how damsel flies are formed. They are like dragonflies!
If my saying what I really thought about something, was enough for her to "drop" me, then I guess our friendship wasn't a friendship, like I thought. She's been that blunt with me . . .
On another note, I don't know what a damsel fly is, and I DON'T want to know. In the last two months, Emily has discovered these DK brand encyclopedic-like books, the Eyewitness series, at the library and school library, on a variety of subjects. Space Exploration, Volcanos & Earthquakes, Africa, Hurricane & Tornado, and her latest discovery, Insect.
Now, I'm all for reading with one's child, but this is one book I will not be cracking. Nooooosireee! She can learn all about damsel flies and other creepy critters on her own. Lol! Ewwww. I'd have nightmares!
Part of me wonders WHICH subject she'll come home with next . . . I guess we'll see tomorrow at the library!
The inquisitive mind of a child!
Although I do know that unusually strong interest in very specific subjects is a trait of autism, I do not and will not apologize for her interest, feel ashamed of it, or discourage her in any way.
I enjoy her enjoyment and childish glee and wonder at the variety, depth, and breadth of the subjects she encounters.
I have had, though, occasion to wonder about the depth of detail given some of the more gruesome aspects of these subjects; for example, some images from Pompeii in the Volcanos book. There were pictures of the people, or the castings thereof, who had died in various positions in the streets and buildings of Pompeii. While there were no features on these roughly humanoid-shaped mostly fetally-curled bodies, I still wondered whether I should allow her to see these. There was also the image of a human skull, from one of a variety of ancient volcanic episodes.
I pondered this, and then realized, given her fascination with the subject of volcanos, she probably OUGHT to know that they hurt people. As long as it does not show mutilated corpses or people, that is. The "forms" of people from Pompeii were so rough, and featureless, they were more like a primitive carving of the shape of a human body, than anything.
We have had a little bit of discussion on the subject, and these books should and will provoke some more discussion, about events, places, peoples, cultures, differences, and things that, while I am not sure she can understand what it really MEANS, in terms of the impact on people, their feelings, their lives, it is still a place to start in educating her about the way things work in the world.
She is, after all, going to turn 8 this year. I hope she does not develop any nightmares from these books, but at the same time I really do not want to hold her back, either. Soon enough, I fear, there will come a time when she may not be so eager. Let's hold on to it while we can.
If my saying what I really thought about something, was enough for her to "drop" me, then I guess our friendship wasn't a friendship, like I thought. She's been that blunt with me . . .
On another note, I don't know what a damsel fly is, and I DON'T want to know. In the last two months, Emily has discovered these DK brand encyclopedic-like books, the Eyewitness series, at the library and school library, on a variety of subjects. Space Exploration, Volcanos & Earthquakes, Africa, Hurricane & Tornado, and her latest discovery, Insect.
Now, I'm all for reading with one's child, but this is one book I will not be cracking. Nooooosireee! She can learn all about damsel flies and other creepy critters on her own. Lol! Ewwww. I'd have nightmares!
Part of me wonders WHICH subject she'll come home with next . . . I guess we'll see tomorrow at the library!
The inquisitive mind of a child!
Although I do know that unusually strong interest in very specific subjects is a trait of autism, I do not and will not apologize for her interest, feel ashamed of it, or discourage her in any way.
I enjoy her enjoyment and childish glee and wonder at the variety, depth, and breadth of the subjects she encounters.
I have had, though, occasion to wonder about the depth of detail given some of the more gruesome aspects of these subjects; for example, some images from Pompeii in the Volcanos book. There were pictures of the people, or the castings thereof, who had died in various positions in the streets and buildings of Pompeii. While there were no features on these roughly humanoid-shaped mostly fetally-curled bodies, I still wondered whether I should allow her to see these. There was also the image of a human skull, from one of a variety of ancient volcanic episodes.
I pondered this, and then realized, given her fascination with the subject of volcanos, she probably OUGHT to know that they hurt people. As long as it does not show mutilated corpses or people, that is. The "forms" of people from Pompeii were so rough, and featureless, they were more like a primitive carving of the shape of a human body, than anything.
We have had a little bit of discussion on the subject, and these books should and will provoke some more discussion, about events, places, peoples, cultures, differences, and things that, while I am not sure she can understand what it really MEANS, in terms of the impact on people, their feelings, their lives, it is still a place to start in educating her about the way things work in the world.
She is, after all, going to turn 8 this year. I hope she does not develop any nightmares from these books, but at the same time I really do not want to hold her back, either. Soon enough, I fear, there will come a time when she may not be so eager. Let's hold on to it while we can.
Woozy Suzy Screams In Sleep
Actor Crush of the Day: Hugh Jackman
Ugh. Haven't been sleeping too well lately. Plus, I've been screaming/yelling in my sleep, lately. At least three times last night, my husband says.
I somewhat remembered one of the dreams, one of the times I semi-woke up while screaming, and I should have noted it down then, probably. Another time my husband had to wake me up and tell me I was screaming. The other time did not wake me at all, and I'm not aware of it.
I had some of this going on last week, as well. I think possibly some recent stuff has triggered it, although I have the very vaguest sense of that.
Of course, I'm feeling VERY woozy, and rather PLEASANT in a meandering through the clouds, kinda way. It's how the Neurontin affected me when I was on a higher dose; I'm not sure why I feel this way right now, although I did have to take a double dose last night, having forgotten my mid-day dose. This has happened before, and NOT made me woozy. It's okay to do, especially when I need help sleeping, but the pdoc says that it will be better to have the three doses spread out over the day. But I'm not doubling occasionally when I forget a dose, without knowing from him that it's okay.
Eeeeee. I'm not sure I'm making much sense. I have VT's in a few minutes, only the second time in four months I will have seen my new VT's. The first time didn't go so well, I guess we'll see how this time goes! VT's being Visiting Teachers.
Hopefully I can BEAD later today, but I'm not sure how I'll be feeling.
I find it psychologically interesting, in a detached, clinical, intellectual way, about this recent resurgence of sleeping screams. It's a signal to me, of some kind, it FEELS like, when I consider it in a more personal way. Although I'm sorry to be disturbing my husband; it's more than just disturbing his sleep; it's probably unpleasant and worrisome to him that I am screaming, and having unpleasant experiences. Unnerving, perhaps, as well.
Sorry honey!
Just call me Woozy Suzy, today.
Ugh. Haven't been sleeping too well lately. Plus, I've been screaming/yelling in my sleep, lately. At least three times last night, my husband says.
I somewhat remembered one of the dreams, one of the times I semi-woke up while screaming, and I should have noted it down then, probably. Another time my husband had to wake me up and tell me I was screaming. The other time did not wake me at all, and I'm not aware of it.
I had some of this going on last week, as well. I think possibly some recent stuff has triggered it, although I have the very vaguest sense of that.
Of course, I'm feeling VERY woozy, and rather PLEASANT in a meandering through the clouds, kinda way. It's how the Neurontin affected me when I was on a higher dose; I'm not sure why I feel this way right now, although I did have to take a double dose last night, having forgotten my mid-day dose. This has happened before, and NOT made me woozy. It's okay to do, especially when I need help sleeping, but the pdoc says that it will be better to have the three doses spread out over the day. But I'm not doubling occasionally when I forget a dose, without knowing from him that it's okay.
Eeeeee. I'm not sure I'm making much sense. I have VT's in a few minutes, only the second time in four months I will have seen my new VT's. The first time didn't go so well, I guess we'll see how this time goes! VT's being Visiting Teachers.
Hopefully I can BEAD later today, but I'm not sure how I'll be feeling.
I find it psychologically interesting, in a detached, clinical, intellectual way, about this recent resurgence of sleeping screams. It's a signal to me, of some kind, it FEELS like, when I consider it in a more personal way. Although I'm sorry to be disturbing my husband; it's more than just disturbing his sleep; it's probably unpleasant and worrisome to him that I am screaming, and having unpleasant experiences. Unnerving, perhaps, as well.
Sorry honey!
Just call me Woozy Suzy, today.
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
Personal Hygiene and Depression
Actor Crush of the Day: Matthew McConaughy
James (Hopelessly Depressed), of "Damn I Hate Being Depressed" blog, has written a post on a subject that I have been too embarassed to address, but I feel is an important one, and misunderstood by the non-ill, and used in part as "proof" that the ill are just lazy, icky, whatever.
Personal Hygiene. I hope you can look at this issue in a clinical way, instead of a more, "Ewww, ick, they are GROSS!" kind of way. It may be so, but I appreciated the tone of his post, and the purpose, as well. As I typed out my comment on his post, the third one down, it helped me think through the issue, and some of the reasons why I feel it really helps illustrate some of the issues involved with depression.
The ability to CARE for ones' self, in not just emotional, intellectual, and spiritual ways, but also PHYSICALLY, I think, really is a major dysfunction that the depressed experience. You LOATHE yourself; how COULD you have normal resources inside with which to summon the energy, motivation, and frequency for caring for your physical needs/self? The very inability to care about ones' self is a central problem with depression. You don't and can't seem to CARE about yourself in much of any manner at all . . . the well is dry.
These problems, I feel, are most frequently seen as LAZINESS by the non-ill, as they regard the depressed. That we are CHOOSING a slothful, filthy, slobbish lifestyle, and that if we'd only get UP and DO it, if we'd only CHOOSE to do this routine daily, or however often society expects it of us, that'd we'd DO it.
It isn't that we can't make choices; our ability to be consistent, our ability to follow-through, our ability to even physically care for ourselves, to have any DESIRE to care for ourselves, is crippled and/or diminished to a miniscule capacity of what a person normally has. To even EMOTIONALLY care for oneself, is COMPLETELY at odds, COMPLETELY in opposition to, the difficulties that are inherent with depression. Depression creates, reinforces, contributes to, imposes, influences, and/or changes, etc. the very patterns of our thoughts and feelings. It does any and/or all of these at different times, to differing degrees.
It isn't that we aren't responsible for ourselves, but rather that our CAPACITY to DO, our CAPACITY to DESIRE to do, our CAPACITY to even FEEL a necessity, our CAPACITY to DIRECT ourselves, is hindered and encumbered by the weighty oppression of depression.
I am rather nervous to post this, but it is an important issue and illustration of some of the fundamental difficulties I have experienced in and with my illnesses. I hope to not be judged, but I suspect that will happen. It is, fundamentally, a medical problem, a facet of the illness I and others suffer from. A handicap, even, as our capacity in this matter is handicapped by the illness(es).
James (Hopelessly Depressed), of "Damn I Hate Being Depressed" blog, has written a post on a subject that I have been too embarassed to address, but I feel is an important one, and misunderstood by the non-ill, and used in part as "proof" that the ill are just lazy, icky, whatever.
Personal Hygiene. I hope you can look at this issue in a clinical way, instead of a more, "Ewww, ick, they are GROSS!" kind of way. It may be so, but I appreciated the tone of his post, and the purpose, as well. As I typed out my comment on his post, the third one down, it helped me think through the issue, and some of the reasons why I feel it really helps illustrate some of the issues involved with depression.
The ability to CARE for ones' self, in not just emotional, intellectual, and spiritual ways, but also PHYSICALLY, I think, really is a major dysfunction that the depressed experience. You LOATHE yourself; how COULD you have normal resources inside with which to summon the energy, motivation, and frequency for caring for your physical needs/self? The very inability to care about ones' self is a central problem with depression. You don't and can't seem to CARE about yourself in much of any manner at all . . . the well is dry.
These problems, I feel, are most frequently seen as LAZINESS by the non-ill, as they regard the depressed. That we are CHOOSING a slothful, filthy, slobbish lifestyle, and that if we'd only get UP and DO it, if we'd only CHOOSE to do this routine daily, or however often society expects it of us, that'd we'd DO it.
It isn't that we can't make choices; our ability to be consistent, our ability to follow-through, our ability to even physically care for ourselves, to have any DESIRE to care for ourselves, is crippled and/or diminished to a miniscule capacity of what a person normally has. To even EMOTIONALLY care for oneself, is COMPLETELY at odds, COMPLETELY in opposition to, the difficulties that are inherent with depression. Depression creates, reinforces, contributes to, imposes, influences, and/or changes, etc. the very patterns of our thoughts and feelings. It does any and/or all of these at different times, to differing degrees.
It isn't that we aren't responsible for ourselves, but rather that our CAPACITY to DO, our CAPACITY to DESIRE to do, our CAPACITY to even FEEL a necessity, our CAPACITY to DIRECT ourselves, is hindered and encumbered by the weighty oppression of depression.
I am rather nervous to post this, but it is an important issue and illustration of some of the fundamental difficulties I have experienced in and with my illnesses. I hope to not be judged, but I suspect that will happen. It is, fundamentally, a medical problem, a facet of the illness I and others suffer from. A handicap, even, as our capacity in this matter is handicapped by the illness(es).
Tuesday, January 10, 2006
I looked everywhere BUT at my ologist
Actor Crush of the Day: None of em mean a #$%#$#% thing. Well, make me one out of chocolate, and maybe I'll change my mind today. Chocolate covered nuts, how yummy. Er, peaches.
Left my ologist appointment today feeling worse than when I went in. It's ME, though. Stupid ole me. It was bound to happen sometime.
On another note, one of the only things I have to cheer me up is looking forward to some lovely half-price sale pendants arriving in the mail later this week. I'm going to create a silver chain necklace with amethyst and blue lace agate crescent moon faces dangling from it, and another with blue lace agate and rose quartz seashells dangling from it.
Thirdly, a triple strand anchor-chain sterling necklace, with all dangles being in clear quartz/rock crystal - longest tier having turtle, whale, and sea lion pendants alternating with seashells. Second tier having dolphin flanked by seashells. Third tier having just dangling seashells. A bit over the top, but people look for different and theme creations. Plus, the clearness of them helps bring it back from "too much/too many" things, design-wise. It looks good in my mind, anyway! It's the sterling anchor chain, between 3.5-4.5 or so millimeters, that is going to cost for this necklace. EEEEEEEEeeeeeee! I'll have a hard time parting with it, but it MUST be sold.
Maybe I'll put the dolphin on the bottom and the three animals on the middle strand, I don't know yet. Or maybe I'll pare down the necklace; won't know until I see how the pendants look together when they come!
I just love playing with rocks. I also, besides being interested in being a planetary geologist/astronomer or oceanographer, have a keen interest in geology and meteorology. I just love all those types of sciences.
I guess I've got the rocks to say just about anything. You should see my semi-precious bead stash. And the lovely amethyst necklace I made, for ME. It's sparkly!
Dang, I need a banana split. Yes, we have no bananas! Except I'm going bananas. Ooooo OOOO eeee eee. Best monkey impression I can do, sorry folks.
Left my ologist appointment today feeling worse than when I went in. It's ME, though. Stupid ole me. It was bound to happen sometime.
On another note, one of the only things I have to cheer me up is looking forward to some lovely half-price sale pendants arriving in the mail later this week. I'm going to create a silver chain necklace with amethyst and blue lace agate crescent moon faces dangling from it, and another with blue lace agate and rose quartz seashells dangling from it.
Thirdly, a triple strand anchor-chain sterling necklace, with all dangles being in clear quartz/rock crystal - longest tier having turtle, whale, and sea lion pendants alternating with seashells. Second tier having dolphin flanked by seashells. Third tier having just dangling seashells. A bit over the top, but people look for different and theme creations. Plus, the clearness of them helps bring it back from "too much/too many" things, design-wise. It looks good in my mind, anyway! It's the sterling anchor chain, between 3.5-4.5 or so millimeters, that is going to cost for this necklace. EEEEEEEEeeeeeee! I'll have a hard time parting with it, but it MUST be sold.
Maybe I'll put the dolphin on the bottom and the three animals on the middle strand, I don't know yet. Or maybe I'll pare down the necklace; won't know until I see how the pendants look together when they come!
I just love playing with rocks. I also, besides being interested in being a planetary geologist/astronomer or oceanographer, have a keen interest in geology and meteorology. I just love all those types of sciences.
I guess I've got the rocks to say just about anything. You should see my semi-precious bead stash. And the lovely amethyst necklace I made, for ME. It's sparkly!
Dang, I need a banana split. Yes, we have no bananas! Except I'm going bananas. Ooooo OOOO eeee eee. Best monkey impression I can do, sorry folks.
Monday, January 09, 2006
Check out "Damn I Hate Being Depressed" Blog
Actor Crush of the Day: Matthew Fox, AGAIN. He's REALLY handsome.
Check out this blog by a man named James. His descriptions of depression and how it fubars your life, how it interferes with so much, are spot on. Even if it was different from how I feel it can be, it'd still be HIS experience.
There is some strong language though, here and there. He also feels a strong push inside to advocate for mental illness issues, and for the mentally ill. To also help reduce the stigma, in part by posting about his experiences. I am all for this, myself, too.
Check out this blog by a man named James. His descriptions of depression and how it fubars your life, how it interferes with so much, are spot on. Even if it was different from how I feel it can be, it'd still be HIS experience.
There is some strong language though, here and there. He also feels a strong push inside to advocate for mental illness issues, and for the mentally ill. To also help reduce the stigma, in part by posting about his experiences. I am all for this, myself, too.
Saturday, January 07, 2006
Manic Monday 2 Days Early
I suppose it's about @#$@#$ time! Yeeeehaaaa. I feel like I could drive a whole herd of cattle home right about now.
I feel kinda tipsy, at least as I imagine tipsy to be. High as a kite and going uuuuupppppPPPPPppppp and Awaaaayyyyyy.
Although, I could be mixed. Cause life still sucks. Well, the facts of my life, and lack of a life, suck, but that's how it would be no matter how high I am. It doesn't particularly mean much or matter at the moment anyhoo.
Oh, Scott, and YOU don't suck. Just so's you know.
Vacuums do, though, @#$@# it. Or they should. Ours sucks @#$@#$.
And @#$#$ for good measure.
I feel like I'm The Flash(ette) (and no, not a Flash-ER, that's the Flash, as in, speedy super-hero(ine). I wish I was, I could zip around and get everything done. But everything doesn't matter either, anyway.
You ever see that Mythbusters episode, where they attach like 3600 baloons, to a kid in a sling, and she floats a bit off the ground? Well, I'm like that right now, except without the counterweight and safety measures to keep the child from floating away (they did it in a hanger, too, just in case so she couldn't fly away).
"Let's Go Fly A Kite" is going through my head, and I'm the kite, so high up there you can't hardly see me. WHhhhhhhhhhhheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.
Anyway. Tipsy feeling. Kinda doot-de-doo, what the hell, everything is gay and fun. Gay as in HAPPY. Now "C'mon Get Happy" by the Partridge Family is in my head.
Oh, the HORROR! The absolute, giggling horror of it all. Must . . . get . . . . that . . . out of my head!
Whew. Now I've got the music to Thomas the Tank Engine videos in my head. (Thanks, Beck!)
Never thought I'd be grateful for THAT music.
Well, I'd better sign off before I embarass myself further. Or is that embar#$% myself further? @#$#@$, I can say ASS. So there. @$$. Hee. Now THAT's real cartoon swearing.
I feel kinda tipsy, at least as I imagine tipsy to be. High as a kite and going uuuuupppppPPPPPppppp and Awaaaayyyyyy.
Although, I could be mixed. Cause life still sucks. Well, the facts of my life, and lack of a life, suck, but that's how it would be no matter how high I am. It doesn't particularly mean much or matter at the moment anyhoo.
Oh, Scott, and YOU don't suck. Just so's you know.
Vacuums do, though, @#$@# it. Or they should. Ours sucks @#$@#$.
And @#$#$ for good measure.
I feel like I'm The Flash(ette) (and no, not a Flash-ER, that's the Flash, as in, speedy super-hero(ine). I wish I was, I could zip around and get everything done. But everything doesn't matter either, anyway.
You ever see that Mythbusters episode, where they attach like 3600 baloons, to a kid in a sling, and she floats a bit off the ground? Well, I'm like that right now, except without the counterweight and safety measures to keep the child from floating away (they did it in a hanger, too, just in case so she couldn't fly away).
"Let's Go Fly A Kite" is going through my head, and I'm the kite, so high up there you can't hardly see me. WHhhhhhhhhhhheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.
Anyway. Tipsy feeling. Kinda doot-de-doo, what the hell, everything is gay and fun. Gay as in HAPPY. Now "C'mon Get Happy" by the Partridge Family is in my head.
Oh, the HORROR! The absolute, giggling horror of it all. Must . . . get . . . . that . . . out of my head!
Whew. Now I've got the music to Thomas the Tank Engine videos in my head. (Thanks, Beck!)
Never thought I'd be grateful for THAT music.
Well, I'd better sign off before I embarass myself further. Or is that embar#$% myself further? @#$#@$, I can say ASS. So there. @$$. Hee. Now THAT's real cartoon swearing.
Friday, January 06, 2006
BCC and Post on Depression (including a poem by Moi)
Actor Crush of the Day: Matthew Fox
Some of you have read this poem before, especially as it is the first post of my blog, way back in August 2005.
It is included at the end of a post by a guest poster at BCC named Hannah. I could connect with EVERYTHING she said, because it has SO been my experience. Please go read. I hope it fosters a further understanding of how it feels to be this way; perhaps illuminates something that you haven't thought about, conceived, or connected with, before.
Click the post title to go there.
Some of you have read this poem before, especially as it is the first post of my blog, way back in August 2005.
It is included at the end of a post by a guest poster at BCC named Hannah. I could connect with EVERYTHING she said, because it has SO been my experience. Please go read. I hope it fosters a further understanding of how it feels to be this way; perhaps illuminates something that you haven't thought about, conceived, or connected with, before.
Click the post title to go there.
Well, THAT was a rousing success.
Actor Crush of the Day:
#@$%#$% it. Stupid, you say? I've got a whole LIFETIME of stupid. Cut my teeth on it. I live, eat, and breathe STUPID.
It just so happened there were no new posts, at least none of interest to me, on the day in which I was going to @#$@# up a storm in my comments. And, hope that others might join me, to make me feel a little bit less alone, and a little bit less stupid.
Thanks Tea and Barb, three cheers to us @#$@#$ women!
#@$%#$% it. Stupid, you say? I've got a whole LIFETIME of stupid. Cut my teeth on it. I live, eat, and breathe STUPID.
It just so happened there were no new posts, at least none of interest to me, on the day in which I was going to @#$@# up a storm in my comments. And, hope that others might join me, to make me feel a little bit less alone, and a little bit less stupid.
Thanks Tea and Barb, three cheers to us @#$@#$ women!
Thursday, January 05, 2006
I declare today Cartoon Swearing day, #^$% it!
Actor Crush of the Day: Matthew Fox, still! Cause @#%$, he's @#$%%^& hot!
Cause Tea (what's the Ascii number for the a with the thingie over it?) had a good idea last night and helped me feel better by @#$@ and #%$^$%^ and even @#$#@#$, shocking though it was.
I hope every commenter today on here @#$@#$ the @#$@#@ out of @#$@.
And that my readers take the spirit of #$%#$% wherever they may blog and comment today, for the love of @#$@#$@.
So @#$@#@ off and spread the ?@#$@ joy!
Cause Tea (what's the Ascii number for the a with the thingie over it?) had a good idea last night and helped me feel better by @#$@ and #%$^$%^ and even @#$#@#$, shocking though it was.
I hope every commenter today on here @#$@#$ the @#$@#@ out of @#$@.
And that my readers take the spirit of #$%#$% wherever they may blog and comment today, for the love of @#$@#$@.
So @#$@#@ off and spread the ?@#$@ joy!
Wednesday, January 04, 2006
I am sorry I exist
I am so sorry that I inflict my very presence; my existence, on the people around me, on the world. I am so sorry that I am a part of this world, that I am. I am so sorry that I am so insufficient to everything. I am so sorry that everyone has had to endure me, like the scraping of a chalk down a blackboard. I am so sorry that I can't cope with being around critical people.
Tuesday, January 03, 2006
The Dance of Anger
Actor Crush of the Day: Captain Kirk (the young, thin, ripped one)
My ologist lent me these tapes last week, and I listened to them twice, and returned them today. WOW was there alot of good stuff on there. I think EVERYONE should listen to them, because I think most everyone could learn something from it.
Click the post title to go to the author's website. I am not sure if it was the author herself reading the book on tape, but it really seemed to me that it was. She has a very soothing, calming, nurturing, safe voice. Which was very relaxing and calming for me.
I want to eventually purchase the tapes and book myself, as I think a periodic review of it would be a helpful reminder every now and then.
It may be targeted towards women, but apparently it has helped many men, as well, and there is discussion of some male perspective here and there, a little, but even the things targeted for women can apply to anyone of either sex, although they really rang true for my experience, as a woman.
This is a GREAT, and very helpful, book/tapes. Very empowering.
My ologist lent me these tapes last week, and I listened to them twice, and returned them today. WOW was there alot of good stuff on there. I think EVERYONE should listen to them, because I think most everyone could learn something from it.
Click the post title to go to the author's website. I am not sure if it was the author herself reading the book on tape, but it really seemed to me that it was. She has a very soothing, calming, nurturing, safe voice. Which was very relaxing and calming for me.
I want to eventually purchase the tapes and book myself, as I think a periodic review of it would be a helpful reminder every now and then.
It may be targeted towards women, but apparently it has helped many men, as well, and there is discussion of some male perspective here and there, a little, but even the things targeted for women can apply to anyone of either sex, although they really rang true for my experience, as a woman.
This is a GREAT, and very helpful, book/tapes. Very empowering.
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