Sunset in the sky
Evening is coming
Pigs are going to bed
The leaves are falling
Everyone is sleeping
My dog is sleeping
Bare trees
Exit summer
Rainbows
I think it's quite good, actually! It just FEELS poetic. I am not sure where the pigs or the dog came from, though. Apparently they are sleepy . . .
She wanted me to post the poem on my blog!
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
Help Me Help You - First Episode Impressions (Spoilers, probably, too)
Sorry Barb! I forgot to tell you it would be on tonight. Boot to my head . . .!
Well, there's the full of himself aspect that seems to be part and parcel of many of Ted Danson's roles; that wasn't unexpected. It leads to some . . . downright rude/unkind interactions or comments to/with his patients, but that was expected as part of the comedy as well. Although you certainly know he will NOT be telling the redhead to get a grip, anytime soon . . .
I thought the episode was a bit uneven. I can somewhat understand that, given the switch between stories of Dr. Hoffman's personal life, and the lives of the group therapy participants, as well as the group therapy itself. It still felt more uneven than I feel it could have been, though.
I actually thought it was funny and ironic of the car salesman to, after hugging Ted's divorcing wife, kissing her, and on his way out, he said to Ted as he was leaving, c'mon in and I'll replace that car for you. Or something like that; Ted's character kept insulting the car he had bought from this guy, upon finding out the guy was "with" his wife. Dr. Hoffman isn't the only one who is full of himself; I thought it funny to have that kind of brashness turned towards him, lol.
I was uncomfortable with Inger's scene in the bar?/restaurant, (she's the one with "no social skills" per the scripty diagnoses overlaid on the screen over their characters early in the show), as she goes on and on and on about herself, but not the way most people do, it's exaggerated (not unexpectedly . . .) She didn't sound like me, in what she said and the type, but I still cringed at the way characters are going to backlash against her, as I feel I have been incorrectly and unfairly judged and backlashed-against, this year, in several huge areas of my life. One of the most hurtful revelations, well, group of revelations all at once, about how some people I thought I could trust, ACTUALLY feel and think about me . . . well, I am going through some major stuff with that, as well as being in the midst of still barely beginning to process a major unpleasantness of finding out other hidden thoughts and feelings about me, from someone else, earlier this year, that will take years, if ever I CAN be done with it(understandably, I've been told), to process and work through . . .
It's been a hard, hard year . . . I still have the strains of someone calling me "psycho" echoing through my head; I don't believe I have ever acted anything near a manner that could begin to approach "psycho" behavior, but nevertheless, it burns inside me. The phrase, "you're a waste of a life and a human being" is one that hits even harder, as I have often thought that myself; I was horrified, though, to receive that sort of thing from someone. We have made up; this isn't about anger at her; it's just about the mess of crap I find myself dealing with and drowning in; this July episode of ugly revelations dredged the earlier stuff all back up again, as well; no wonder, because they are both very intense, and, as others have said, given what was done to me, that it is understandable that it be a slow, slow process to work through, most probably on the scale of years, or longer.
Anyway! All this stuff, wrapped up in an instant, gut reaction to this scene with the character Inger. I was also dismayed that persons without much social skill, for various reasons, might be put up in front of the world in this manner, via her character, to be ridiculed and stereotyped . . .
Yes, I know it's a comedy. There is room within a comedy, though, to show more than just a stereotype, although often that's as far as comedies go; this is an hour long show, though, and I WAS pleased to see it wasn't just joke, joke, joke, easy laugh, easy laugh, etc. without anything else inbetween . . .
I actually liked a particular moment in therapy, where one member gets up, says how uncomfortable it all is, and is going to leave. Dr. Hoffman says that this isn't uncomfortable, then gets up, walks over, and puts his face one inch from the other's nose, and says, "THIS is uncomfortable." I have NO idea whether that would work in the real world, but besides being funny, I also thought it true . . . and also wasn't all about the therapist, either.
I did see his character wanting to help is patients, at least, glimpses of it, when the narcissistic behavior and manner let up for a little here and there.
Dr. Hoffman's character, is rather pathetic in some aspects, but surprisingly not so in a few. So, he's not a complete ass (pardon my swearing), but he needs alot of work, lol. I guess part of the premise of the show is that he will discover he needs his patients just as much as they need him, ie, being the therapist for them, and maybe even learning from them, maybe. So, if he's got some room for growth built in to the show's basic premise, I suppose there could be some hope for him (ok, really, some hope for my "ideal" of him as a caring, supportive, capable therapist, lol). Yup, still looking for that male mentor type, am I. Ah, well. It's not like I can turn that off . . . I've tried. Before my therapy is over, though, I hope it will have naturally waned.
SO! There's alot about me and my psychological issues in this review of the first episode.
But, That's Me! (The characters aren't me, I'm Me, in case any of you were confused . . .)
Oh! I also thought it funny when Dr. Hoffman's daughter (in school to become some kind of mental health professional) starts videotaping he and his soon to be ex-wife, for her Freudian something something something class. She said it'd be perfect for what they were talking about in class, and for them to just pretend she wasn't there . . . lol. When they send her packing, she says, "NOW you have boundaries . . ."
Edit: Actually, those two phrases from earlier in the year, are much less powerful (right now? forever? not sure?) than the stuff I learned this last July from some ladies whom I had been afraid to "show" more of myself, and my mental illnesses, to, a year or two ago. They said, "We can handle it; it'll be ok." Well, they lie, and my initial assessment of them/fear of them proved to be all too correct, as I found out this summer. They KNEW I was trusting them with stuff that could easily be seen the wrong way . . . ok, that's enough bout THEM in this post. UGH.
Well, there's the full of himself aspect that seems to be part and parcel of many of Ted Danson's roles; that wasn't unexpected. It leads to some . . . downright rude/unkind interactions or comments to/with his patients, but that was expected as part of the comedy as well. Although you certainly know he will NOT be telling the redhead to get a grip, anytime soon . . .
I thought the episode was a bit uneven. I can somewhat understand that, given the switch between stories of Dr. Hoffman's personal life, and the lives of the group therapy participants, as well as the group therapy itself. It still felt more uneven than I feel it could have been, though.
I actually thought it was funny and ironic of the car salesman to, after hugging Ted's divorcing wife, kissing her, and on his way out, he said to Ted as he was leaving, c'mon in and I'll replace that car for you. Or something like that; Ted's character kept insulting the car he had bought from this guy, upon finding out the guy was "with" his wife. Dr. Hoffman isn't the only one who is full of himself; I thought it funny to have that kind of brashness turned towards him, lol.
I was uncomfortable with Inger's scene in the bar?/restaurant, (she's the one with "no social skills" per the scripty diagnoses overlaid on the screen over their characters early in the show), as she goes on and on and on about herself, but not the way most people do, it's exaggerated (not unexpectedly . . .) She didn't sound like me, in what she said and the type, but I still cringed at the way characters are going to backlash against her, as I feel I have been incorrectly and unfairly judged and backlashed-against, this year, in several huge areas of my life. One of the most hurtful revelations, well, group of revelations all at once, about how some people I thought I could trust, ACTUALLY feel and think about me . . . well, I am going through some major stuff with that, as well as being in the midst of still barely beginning to process a major unpleasantness of finding out other hidden thoughts and feelings about me, from someone else, earlier this year, that will take years, if ever I CAN be done with it(understandably, I've been told), to process and work through . . .
It's been a hard, hard year . . . I still have the strains of someone calling me "psycho" echoing through my head; I don't believe I have ever acted anything near a manner that could begin to approach "psycho" behavior, but nevertheless, it burns inside me. The phrase, "you're a waste of a life and a human being" is one that hits even harder, as I have often thought that myself; I was horrified, though, to receive that sort of thing from someone. We have made up; this isn't about anger at her; it's just about the mess of crap I find myself dealing with and drowning in; this July episode of ugly revelations dredged the earlier stuff all back up again, as well; no wonder, because they are both very intense, and, as others have said, given what was done to me, that it is understandable that it be a slow, slow process to work through, most probably on the scale of years, or longer.
Anyway! All this stuff, wrapped up in an instant, gut reaction to this scene with the character Inger. I was also dismayed that persons without much social skill, for various reasons, might be put up in front of the world in this manner, via her character, to be ridiculed and stereotyped . . .
Yes, I know it's a comedy. There is room within a comedy, though, to show more than just a stereotype, although often that's as far as comedies go; this is an hour long show, though, and I WAS pleased to see it wasn't just joke, joke, joke, easy laugh, easy laugh, etc. without anything else inbetween . . .
I actually liked a particular moment in therapy, where one member gets up, says how uncomfortable it all is, and is going to leave. Dr. Hoffman says that this isn't uncomfortable, then gets up, walks over, and puts his face one inch from the other's nose, and says, "THIS is uncomfortable." I have NO idea whether that would work in the real world, but besides being funny, I also thought it true . . . and also wasn't all about the therapist, either.
I did see his character wanting to help is patients, at least, glimpses of it, when the narcissistic behavior and manner let up for a little here and there.
Dr. Hoffman's character, is rather pathetic in some aspects, but surprisingly not so in a few. So, he's not a complete ass (pardon my swearing), but he needs alot of work, lol. I guess part of the premise of the show is that he will discover he needs his patients just as much as they need him, ie, being the therapist for them, and maybe even learning from them, maybe. So, if he's got some room for growth built in to the show's basic premise, I suppose there could be some hope for him (ok, really, some hope for my "ideal" of him as a caring, supportive, capable therapist, lol). Yup, still looking for that male mentor type, am I. Ah, well. It's not like I can turn that off . . . I've tried. Before my therapy is over, though, I hope it will have naturally waned.
SO! There's alot about me and my psychological issues in this review of the first episode.
But, That's Me! (The characters aren't me, I'm Me, in case any of you were confused . . .)
Oh! I also thought it funny when Dr. Hoffman's daughter (in school to become some kind of mental health professional) starts videotaping he and his soon to be ex-wife, for her Freudian something something something class. She said it'd be perfect for what they were talking about in class, and for them to just pretend she wasn't there . . . lol. When they send her packing, she says, "NOW you have boundaries . . ."
Edit: Actually, those two phrases from earlier in the year, are much less powerful (right now? forever? not sure?) than the stuff I learned this last July from some ladies whom I had been afraid to "show" more of myself, and my mental illnesses, to, a year or two ago. They said, "We can handle it; it'll be ok." Well, they lie, and my initial assessment of them/fear of them proved to be all too correct, as I found out this summer. They KNEW I was trusting them with stuff that could easily be seen the wrong way . . . ok, that's enough bout THEM in this post. UGH.
Thursday, September 21, 2006
Therapeutic Relationship = Artifact of Therapy?
How MUCH of the therapeutic relationship is just in my head, as well as how much is just a "natural" or expected psychological reaction to the ways a psychologist interacts with a patient (appropriately)?
I think, perhaps, that psychologists often get a break, sort of an easy in, so to speak, in some ways, because the ways they are trained to interact with their patients, the questions they ask, the ways they phrase them, any training they've received in the manner of their affect and manner of being within their office . . . these things all, seem to me, to invite semi- or sub-conscious avenues of trust, connectedness, positive regard, and other things.
SO. How much of what I "feel" in the therapeutic relationship, what I "feel" about the therapeutic relationship, the depth and quality of the therapeutic relationship, the "human" "connectedness" and "concern" I "feel" as a partner in our working relationship . . . how much of that is just . . . evoked naturally, or should I say, evoked in response to and by the aforementioned aspects of therapy, the therapist, his/her training, his/her efficacy in using that training, and other things.
Have I been "had", as it were, in that I have been at least somewhat fooled into a sense that I'm genuinely cared about (appropriately), that I'm genuinely completely accepted as I am, that I'm seen in a positive, capable way, that I'm RECEIVING a human connectedness and concern that is a useful, positive, and effective aspect of therapy and the/my/our therapeutic relationship?
Have I been "had", by the techniques, skills, and other psychological applications that are de riguer (sp?) and possibly/probably? just a bag of "tricks", or rather, box of "tools" the psychologist pulls out as needed, as applicable?
How much of the therapeutic relationship is in my head, how much of it is in the naturally evoked responses to the therapist's technique (and thus, perhaps just a reciprocal part of the technique, on my part, and possibly thus rather meaningless?), and how much of it is real? How much of it is my wish, my ardent, heartfelt wish that someone, somewhere on this earth, could possibly accept me, and LIKE (appropriately) me, AS I am, and for WHO I am, regardless of my character flaws, personality quirks, and state of physical and mental health?
How much of it is from that longing, that detested longing that I have learned since before I could even be capable of identifying it, that I have learned to loathe and punish myself for? That yearning, that is so inescapable and primitive, the strength and depth of which is overwhelming, and yet I despise it, and my yielding to the tidal wave forcefulness of it? As if I could somehow stand up to it, and deny the undeniable . . . the feeling that SOMEHOW, I should be capable of the impossible, barring entry to this urgent, basic longing?
HOW MUCH OF THE THERAPEUTIC RELATIONSHIP IS ARTIFACT, ARTIFICE, SUBCONSCIOUS REACTION; HOW MUCH IS EVEN PURPOSEFULLY ELICITED BY THERAPEUTIC TECHNIQUES DESIGNED TO ENCOURAGE AND FOSTER THE INCREASE OF TRUST, CONNECTION, CARE, AND OTHER REGARDING THE THERAPIST/PATIENT RELATIONSHIP? HOW MUCH IS IN MY HEAD/HEART WITHOUT A REAL BASIS, BOTH IN REGARDS TO THE PREVIOUS AND IRREGARDLESS OF THE PREVIOUS?
I think, perhaps, that psychologists often get a break, sort of an easy in, so to speak, in some ways, because the ways they are trained to interact with their patients, the questions they ask, the ways they phrase them, any training they've received in the manner of their affect and manner of being within their office . . . these things all, seem to me, to invite semi- or sub-conscious avenues of trust, connectedness, positive regard, and other things.
SO. How much of what I "feel" in the therapeutic relationship, what I "feel" about the therapeutic relationship, the depth and quality of the therapeutic relationship, the "human" "connectedness" and "concern" I "feel" as a partner in our working relationship . . . how much of that is just . . . evoked naturally, or should I say, evoked in response to and by the aforementioned aspects of therapy, the therapist, his/her training, his/her efficacy in using that training, and other things.
Have I been "had", as it were, in that I have been at least somewhat fooled into a sense that I'm genuinely cared about (appropriately), that I'm genuinely completely accepted as I am, that I'm seen in a positive, capable way, that I'm RECEIVING a human connectedness and concern that is a useful, positive, and effective aspect of therapy and the/my/our therapeutic relationship?
Have I been "had", by the techniques, skills, and other psychological applications that are de riguer (sp?) and possibly/probably? just a bag of "tricks", or rather, box of "tools" the psychologist pulls out as needed, as applicable?
How much of the therapeutic relationship is in my head, how much of it is in the naturally evoked responses to the therapist's technique (and thus, perhaps just a reciprocal part of the technique, on my part, and possibly thus rather meaningless?), and how much of it is real? How much of it is my wish, my ardent, heartfelt wish that someone, somewhere on this earth, could possibly accept me, and LIKE (appropriately) me, AS I am, and for WHO I am, regardless of my character flaws, personality quirks, and state of physical and mental health?
How much of it is from that longing, that detested longing that I have learned since before I could even be capable of identifying it, that I have learned to loathe and punish myself for? That yearning, that is so inescapable and primitive, the strength and depth of which is overwhelming, and yet I despise it, and my yielding to the tidal wave forcefulness of it? As if I could somehow stand up to it, and deny the undeniable . . . the feeling that SOMEHOW, I should be capable of the impossible, barring entry to this urgent, basic longing?
HOW MUCH OF THE THERAPEUTIC RELATIONSHIP IS ARTIFACT, ARTIFICE, SUBCONSCIOUS REACTION; HOW MUCH IS EVEN PURPOSEFULLY ELICITED BY THERAPEUTIC TECHNIQUES DESIGNED TO ENCOURAGE AND FOSTER THE INCREASE OF TRUST, CONNECTION, CARE, AND OTHER REGARDING THE THERAPIST/PATIENT RELATIONSHIP? HOW MUCH IS IN MY HEAD/HEART WITHOUT A REAL BASIS, BOTH IN REGARDS TO THE PREVIOUS AND IRREGARDLESS OF THE PREVIOUS?
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
Therapy Ring A Round The Rosie
Well, today's therapy was different.
See, there's this thing.
This thing that, well, I just can't figure out any way to even begin to approach it.
He tried to bring me to it, but I just CAN'T DO IT.
Problem is, the consequences of NOT doing it, are . . .
Anyway. I've been trying a zillion different ways in my head to try to, but . . . there is NO PLACE I CAN EVEN BEGIN at with it.
Sooooo. It's a dilemma. He really did alot to try and help me approach it. But it's all stuff I had already thought of and I just CAN'T. It's like asking me to swim up a 100-foot wave of water, like near the end of Perfect Storm.
Fear is an understatement . . . try abject terror.
See, there's this thing.
This thing that, well, I just can't figure out any way to even begin to approach it.
He tried to bring me to it, but I just CAN'T DO IT.
Problem is, the consequences of NOT doing it, are . . .
Anyway. I've been trying a zillion different ways in my head to try to, but . . . there is NO PLACE I CAN EVEN BEGIN at with it.
Sooooo. It's a dilemma. He really did alot to try and help me approach it. But it's all stuff I had already thought of and I just CAN'T. It's like asking me to swim up a 100-foot wave of water, like near the end of Perfect Storm.
Fear is an understatement . . . try abject terror.
Friday, September 15, 2006
Self-Analysis
Well, I suppose my desire in yesterday's post that that new show, have some moments of real connectedness and not just people laughing at each other, is actually indicative of what I WANT, in my own life, in some relationships, well, some positive relationships, than it is a feeling about the show itself. It's about that, TOO, but now I feel stupid because it seems so obvious that it is about me and what I feel, and feeling unconnected to/with people.
Anyway, wonder what I should charge myself for this scintillating analysis . . . hee hee.
EDIT: OR, maybe I'm so afraid of being hurt, that tv is the only safe way to be/feel connected between people. OR, maybe I'm just plain afraid of connectedness.
Ah, this post was better before the edits. Cause maybe I DON'T want more connectedness, even though I think I do. Or maybe I do, even if I think I don't.
Now THAT's why I'm in therapy; cause I'm all mixed up. I think I can agree with myself on that . . .
Anyway, wonder what I should charge myself for this scintillating analysis . . . hee hee.
EDIT: OR, maybe I'm so afraid of being hurt, that tv is the only safe way to be/feel connected between people. OR, maybe I'm just plain afraid of connectedness.
Ah, this post was better before the edits. Cause maybe I DON'T want more connectedness, even though I think I do. Or maybe I do, even if I think I don't.
Now THAT's why I'm in therapy; cause I'm all mixed up. I think I can agree with myself on that . . .
Thursday, September 14, 2006
New TV Series "Help Me Help You"
Daughter quotes: It's just like How It's Made. Except it's different. (remarking on the show, "John Ratzenberger's Made In America".
Life . . is messy. (We hear in Ted Danson's voice, at the beginning of the free video preview of this show at abc.com) We can't control life. And we don't like that. Sometimes we get so mad we just wanna . . . jump out a window. And then . . . we land on our boss.
This is the first I've heard of Ted Danson's new fall show, Help Me Help You. Apparently he's the shrink (not sure what type of mental health professional, probably ologist I'd guess) and the show is about group therapy. Rather, it seems to be about all the funny that arises from all sorts of therapeutic boundary violations, and all the other usual boundary violations you'd see in a sitcom. Well, those would all fit under therapeutic boundary violations, since, by definition, anything outside of what the therapeutic relationship generally entails, is a therapeutic boundary violation . . . .
Anyway. For some reason I'm drawn to mental health professional types; I find them fascinating. Hope Healthpsych and others don't think I'm wierd now, but I s'pose given my lifelong struggles it's possibly an understandable thing, anyway.
So I guess we'll see how this show is. If it's a complete wreck, and always goes for the cheap laugh, or if there's actual some "real" interaction that goes on in the midst of the funny.
Yeah, it's a sitcom, it's not about "real", but I find sitcoms that do the same old thing all the time, and ALWAYS go for the cheap laugh, to be old and tired right out of the box.
So here's hoping that there's some surprising moments of actual connectedness going on in there, and not just people laughing at each other's problems, and peeping thru the doctor's windows, ad nauseum.
I knew Ted Danson had grey/white hair, but it looked kind of cartoonish/exaggerated on the screen; this doesn't bode well, if they exaggerated that because age = authority/wisdom or whatever, for him to come across well as a shrink. Or maybe it really IS that white now. Poor Sam must be rolling over in his fictional grave; he was SO proud of his head of hair, among other things.
On a different comedic series note, but still on ABC: The Knights of Prosperity actually looks like it could be funny, and not just the same old thing . . .
The Scare of My Life!!
Thank goodness it was brief, though.
I looked up at the clock, and it was 5 til 4. I thought, "Ohmygosh, where's my daughter? She should be home from school by now!!!"
We've had one scare in the past where I called out her name and was crying all the way as I walked to the school and back, looking for her, and didn't find her.
THAT was a REALLY BAD DAY, let me tell you.
So, freaking out a bit, I check with a neighbor; the one who's daughter she usually walks home with. Not there, and her daughter had gone to a friend's house from school, like my daughter is going to do tomorrow.
I was headed back to my apartment, to put on shoes and call that friend's house she was going to tomorrow, in case she mixed up the days, when I saw my daughter behind the apartment buildings slowly walking home.
Turns out she waited and waited and waited forever for the friend she walks home with, and after half an hour finally walked home. BOY am I glad she came home while there were still crossing guards at the intersections . . . .
Whew. Heart still pounding a bit, here . . . . I did let the neighbor know she was ok, she wanted to know when I found her.
I looked up at the clock, and it was 5 til 4. I thought, "Ohmygosh, where's my daughter? She should be home from school by now!!!"
We've had one scare in the past where I called out her name and was crying all the way as I walked to the school and back, looking for her, and didn't find her.
THAT was a REALLY BAD DAY, let me tell you.
So, freaking out a bit, I check with a neighbor; the one who's daughter she usually walks home with. Not there, and her daughter had gone to a friend's house from school, like my daughter is going to do tomorrow.
I was headed back to my apartment, to put on shoes and call that friend's house she was going to tomorrow, in case she mixed up the days, when I saw my daughter behind the apartment buildings slowly walking home.
Turns out she waited and waited and waited forever for the friend she walks home with, and after half an hour finally walked home. BOY am I glad she came home while there were still crossing guards at the intersections . . . .
Whew. Heart still pounding a bit, here . . . . I did let the neighbor know she was ok, she wanted to know when I found her.
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
Pressured Franticness or Frantic Pressuredness?
Imagine me a ping pong ball whizzing around at hyperspeed and that's the frantic pressure going on inside me. Not about the ward changing thing, although I'm SURE that contributes.
I'm not going to say what it's about, actually (we're all fine, tho! well, as fine as I can be, I suppose, given I'm feeling like I'm sitting on top of a volcano that's about to blow . . .).
But.
ASEHROYHQNEROITJOAKNASFLKMDFNVLK
DAFNGOAISDTOIQWERTYQENRYGOANTGN
SAIEODGHASOIFGH
Okay, that was just a fragment of my tumbled, pressured, frantic urges/thoughts, whatever that are trying to get out. Somewhere in there, you'll find that twelve monkeys accidentally wrote the Compleat Works of Shakespeare on a bunch of typewriters.
I'm not going to say what it's about, actually (we're all fine, tho! well, as fine as I can be, I suppose, given I'm feeling like I'm sitting on top of a volcano that's about to blow . . .).
But.
ASEHROYHQNEROITJOAKNASFLKMDFNVLK
DAFNGOAISDTOIQWERTYQENRYGOANTGN
SAIEODGHASOIFGH
Okay, that was just a fragment of my tumbled, pressured, frantic urges/thoughts, whatever that are trying to get out. Somewhere in there, you'll find that twelve monkeys accidentally wrote the Compleat Works of Shakespeare on a bunch of typewriters.
Monday, September 11, 2006
9/11 2,996 Bloggers Tribute - Gricelda E. James
From the guestbook for Gricelda at Legacy.com -October 12, 2001I thought I would lead off this tribute to Gricelda James with a personal note from someone who knew her.
Griselda was a wonderful, gifted and full of life person. She was shy..but very sweet. I knew Griselda from our days growing up in Tela, Honduras, she will be greatly missed, but not forgotten. - Sylvia Durant (Bronx, NY )
For those who don't know, a project was started for 2,996 bloggers to each memorialize one of the September 11th victims on their own blog. Gricelda's name became the person I would attempt to memorialize in some hopefully meaningful way, as much as a stranger to her could . . . .
She was 44, from Willingboro, N.J. She was an administrative assistant for International Office Centers Corp., and was confirmed dead at/in the World Trade Center.
I know that I did not know her, but I was an administrative assistant when I could work, and so I know a good deal about what that entails, and where you sit on the totem pole in the office pecking order, and such. It tends to be a thankless job . . . but one which I know that I tried my best at, anyway, because people just do not REALIZE everything a "secretary" does . . . .
When I read that she was an administrative assistant, I did feel like I knew a bit of what parts of her work life might have been like, and felt more of a connection. I was eager, though, to find some personal notes and memories left somewhere on the web, from those who knew her, so I could get a window into what she was like, this person who was cruelly and abruptly taken from her loved ones and friends five years ago, and whose loss is still likely felt by them, as well as, in whatever way we can, by the rest of us who mourn the lost from that day.
From her guestbook at September11Victims.com:
Here is a link to an article about her, written in January of 2002, by Kathleen Kernicky of The Sun-Sentinel. From this article, I learned that she traveled to her hometown of Tela, Honduras in August for a 2-1/2 week visit. A quote from that article:Amber Green
Commenter Email and IP address is in file
09/27/2004 11:52:58 AM
I knew Gricelda and she was a very sweet person. She was married to my uncle and they were in love. My deepest sympathy goes out to Uncle Mike and the James family. I'm glad I found this site because just to see her picture brings back only good memories, which will let her live on forever.
Amber GreenRachel
Commenter Email and IP address is in file
04/12/2006 6:20:09 PM
Mrs. James' husband worked at my school at the time. I knew they were deeply in loved, shared 5 beautiful children, and both were very successful. I pray that her family, and friends are blessed and that she will never be forgotten. She was a wonderful woman.
"She spent a lot time with my mother. She saw a lot of her old friends, people she grew up with. People she had not seen in a long time. She came back to work in September, and a week later, this happened ... She was saying goodbye," Garo-Brown said.I also learned from this article that she worked on the 79th floor, and had worked there for 2 years. She moved to the U.S. in 1995 after studying business administration in college in Honduras.
When she moved to the U.S., she got a job in Boston. During a visit to New York, she visited an old friend from when she was growing up in Honduras. He had a crush on her when they were teenagers, but she married a different man. At this time, she was the divorced mother of two boys, and after renewing their connection, they fell in love and got married a year later. They moved into a new house in N.J.
That is absolutely one of the most romantic stories I have ever heard. What a long time to wait for your ladylove!
A quote from the article that fits ME to a T, as well, is:
"She had her own personality," her sister said. "To know her is to love her. She was quiet. She wasn't a woman of too many words. Once she got to know you, you couldn't shut her up."Yeah, that's me, quite often, it seems. Although I don't know if to know me is to love me, though. One of my goals for this tribute was for me to try to get a glimpse of the REAL person behind the name that is one of many on so many lists that are posted on various web sites and blogs . . . . to try and connect in some way with her. Not in order to re-traumatize myself about 9/11/2001, but rather to get a different perspective on that day, to bring it down to a scale that is more understandable, and not so vast that it seems to fail one's ability to grasp it. To see the PERSON, and not just the name on the list. I feel like I am succeeding a bit in that goal, as I write, here. Forgive me if I fail in any aspect in this tribute; these are my feelings and thoughts mixed up with what I am learning about Gricelda, and the LIFE she had and was LIVING.
There is a scene in the movie, The Core, where the Ukrainian/Russian character says to the others something like, and I paraphrase, "Me, I'm not trying to save 6 billion people; that's too much, that's too big. All I can think about saving is three people, my wife and kids. I just hope I am good enough, and smart enough, to save THREE."
This is kind of what I am trying to convey with my tribute; what I am trying to feel and see, and what I am trying to say and show about 9/11 and the tragic death of Mrs. Michael James. That, perhaps, 9/11 might just be too big to comprehend, with the scale and the scope of it, but that when we take an individual look, at an individual, that from this we might find something profound for ourselves; that from this we might learn something about ourselves, and our feelings about that day; that from this we might learn something about Gricelda, and the light and presence she brought to those people she worked and played with, laughed, lived, and loved with; that from this we might somehow be just that little bit different for having read and learned about her, and by so doing, the ripples outward from her presence here on this earth will continue to have a positive effect on the world she left behind.
She was a creative person, enjoying floral design and decoration. I, too, love to create. This is another quality about her that I feel that I can understand a bit of. Creation is in my blood.
Another quote from the article:
"She was very creative," her sister said. "That was her next step, to start doing that. Everything at her home, she did herself. She had a sewing machine and she sewed everything herself. Her curtains, her vases of flowers that she made herself out of material. You'd walk in and you knew she made everything."I am saddened by Gricelda's death, but I am grateful to those who organized this project for the opportunity to get to know this vibrant person. She seems so, from what I have learned about her. I hope that I, in some small way, have done her memory justice.
Gricelda James Scholarship Fund
Scholarship set up in memory of Gricelda E. James. To make a donation, contact the Westampton Township Public Schools, 710 Rancocas Road, Westampton, NJ 08060.
A link to an article about three (including Gricelda) New Jersey victims, their loved ones, their phone calls to each other on 9/11, and what followed.
A link to an article about her husband Michael, in March 2002, and his life after 9/11 without her.
A link to a 9/11 quilt gallery, online. Go HERE and input her name, and it'll pull up the quilt square made in her memory.
Saturday, September 09, 2006
Top 20 Psychiatric Prescriptions 2005
Interesting. I note that Neurontin/gabapentin is not on there, but I know that the manufacturer had its hand slapped for promoting off-label use of it, for bipolar and such . . . and I believe there have been a few studies? that show that its efficacy for such is questionable or even has little to none . . .
Course, I experienced a mental, perceptive, directive, emotional, and more that is difficult to describe, awakening and expanding as the Neurontin kicked in . . . I s'pose I should link to that post, but I think most of you have read it. As well, I experienced an appreciable lessening of general amplitude, frequency, and length of mood swings as the drug kicked in. I still have swings that push out of that, but it's no longer a rollercoaster that has huge ups and downs on a daily and weekly basis . . . it's stretched out the "graph", if you will, of it, some. This is SO SO SO appreciated by me, and I LOVE that it does this for me . . . . I don't know if I'd necessarily call myself stable, at least not this week, as i'm having a rather low time, but . . . overall, over time, I'd say that I'm noticeably more stable than I was, generally.
If it's working for me, then I'm content.
I suppose one can say the brain and all the structures therein, and the biochemicals that run the place, or run amok it seems, is such a complex thing and set of interacting systems, substances, and processes, and that so much is NOT known about the brain and its workings, that I suppose I'll just chalk it up to that unknown area, and perhaps individual personal variations in body and brain chemistry.
I'm not surprised to see Effexor XR on there . . . I bet it might be higher if it wasn't so @#$#@ and @#$@#$ expensive . . . . not surprised at the Xanax either, although I extremely underutilize it. There was one month, last year, where I carefully but appropriately and seems almost perfectly utilized it when needed, and it seemed to almost stretch out when I needed to take it, because interrupting the cycle of fear, seemed to short circuit the continuing cycles of it, a bit. It was really COOL to see and feel the way this worked, that month . . .
I also have a bit of Klonopin around here, somewhere, but that's not something I'm currently on, really. Although I'm not sure I was given the right instructions for it when I got it (my psychiatrist was on suspension and suspended right to prescribe, and so I had a sub shrink at the time), and so the fact that it didn't seem to work for me, anxiety wise, might be more due to the fact that I was only taking half a one at night, and a quarter one as needed, instead of keeping the level of it consistent in my blood by taking a partial earlier in the day. But I didn't know that then.
It DID do wonders for cutting the frequency of the EXTREMELY HORRID, sometimes violently graphic, and extremely TERRIFYING, VIVID nightmares that Effexor gives me, in half or so. It cut me down to about 1-3 per week, instead of 4-6 per week. It also stopped those things where I was asleep, and all of a sudden it was like someone whacked me in the head with a cast-iron skillet (no image of being whacked, what I was being whacked with, or that there was an entity behind it, but that's just a descriptor of how hard the blow felt), I literally physically FELT the blow and the recoil/slam/being knocked back by it, and there was an accompanying bright white intense light that filled my brain (sometimes, not always), and then I JERKED AWAKE VIOLENTLY to find my body out of my control, convulsing and limbs jerking up forcefully from the bed. A time or two, it felt like a terrible yank in my back that was attempting to fold me in half with much force, and I'd awake to my body jerking up, seemingly trying to do just that . . . They called this night terrors, but that term doesn't describe the feeling of what I went through as well as my description does, lol.
I suspect Zyprexa and Depakote would be higher, if not for the weight gain and added risk of diabetes, at least, that's what I seem to have read are potential effects of those drugs . . . if my doc ever suggests them, I'll have some strong feelings about it . . . especially since I have PCOS, which I don't know much about but recently hear that it might mean I'll probably or definitely get diabetes someday? Why don't docs explain stuff when they say, you have THIS, or THAT . . . . . .
Anyway, I thought the list was interesting, and there's my thoughts on my experiences and regarding this list.
Course, I experienced a mental, perceptive, directive, emotional, and more that is difficult to describe, awakening and expanding as the Neurontin kicked in . . . I s'pose I should link to that post, but I think most of you have read it. As well, I experienced an appreciable lessening of general amplitude, frequency, and length of mood swings as the drug kicked in. I still have swings that push out of that, but it's no longer a rollercoaster that has huge ups and downs on a daily and weekly basis . . . it's stretched out the "graph", if you will, of it, some. This is SO SO SO appreciated by me, and I LOVE that it does this for me . . . . I don't know if I'd necessarily call myself stable, at least not this week, as i'm having a rather low time, but . . . overall, over time, I'd say that I'm noticeably more stable than I was, generally.
If it's working for me, then I'm content.
I suppose one can say the brain and all the structures therein, and the biochemicals that run the place, or run amok it seems, is such a complex thing and set of interacting systems, substances, and processes, and that so much is NOT known about the brain and its workings, that I suppose I'll just chalk it up to that unknown area, and perhaps individual personal variations in body and brain chemistry.
I'm not surprised to see Effexor XR on there . . . I bet it might be higher if it wasn't so @#$#@ and @#$@#$ expensive . . . . not surprised at the Xanax either, although I extremely underutilize it. There was one month, last year, where I carefully but appropriately and seems almost perfectly utilized it when needed, and it seemed to almost stretch out when I needed to take it, because interrupting the cycle of fear, seemed to short circuit the continuing cycles of it, a bit. It was really COOL to see and feel the way this worked, that month . . .
I also have a bit of Klonopin around here, somewhere, but that's not something I'm currently on, really. Although I'm not sure I was given the right instructions for it when I got it (my psychiatrist was on suspension and suspended right to prescribe, and so I had a sub shrink at the time), and so the fact that it didn't seem to work for me, anxiety wise, might be more due to the fact that I was only taking half a one at night, and a quarter one as needed, instead of keeping the level of it consistent in my blood by taking a partial earlier in the day. But I didn't know that then.
It DID do wonders for cutting the frequency of the EXTREMELY HORRID, sometimes violently graphic, and extremely TERRIFYING, VIVID nightmares that Effexor gives me, in half or so. It cut me down to about 1-3 per week, instead of 4-6 per week. It also stopped those things where I was asleep, and all of a sudden it was like someone whacked me in the head with a cast-iron skillet (no image of being whacked, what I was being whacked with, or that there was an entity behind it, but that's just a descriptor of how hard the blow felt), I literally physically FELT the blow and the recoil/slam/being knocked back by it, and there was an accompanying bright white intense light that filled my brain (sometimes, not always), and then I JERKED AWAKE VIOLENTLY to find my body out of my control, convulsing and limbs jerking up forcefully from the bed. A time or two, it felt like a terrible yank in my back that was attempting to fold me in half with much force, and I'd awake to my body jerking up, seemingly trying to do just that . . . They called this night terrors, but that term doesn't describe the feeling of what I went through as well as my description does, lol.
I suspect Zyprexa and Depakote would be higher, if not for the weight gain and added risk of diabetes, at least, that's what I seem to have read are potential effects of those drugs . . . if my doc ever suggests them, I'll have some strong feelings about it . . . especially since I have PCOS, which I don't know much about but recently hear that it might mean I'll probably or definitely get diabetes someday? Why don't docs explain stuff when they say, you have THIS, or THAT . . . . . .
Anyway, I thought the list was interesting, and there's my thoughts on my experiences and regarding this list.
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
Which part is ME, and which part is the Cycling?
For example, the post just below this one. I tend to feel that way when I'm cycling looooowwwww.
BUT. That doesn't change the facts.
And, it doesn't change the fact, for me, that those facts SUCK.
So. How much is ME, and how much is the illness? Bets, anyone?
Anyone wanna start a pool?
Or spin a spinner, and whatever percent it lands on, we'll decide THAT percentage split will define the me/illness boundary for the day.
A touch sarcastic or cynical? Why the hell not?
If YOU didn't know how much you was you, and how much you wasn't you, then we might be in the same slappy happy crappy boat. (Slappy being mixed, or sarcastic moods too).
Somebody SLAP me . . . isn't that a Jim Carrey line, from a movie? I think I'm getting it mixed up with something else.
I feel a bit stirred, not shaken. Like when I was in 10th grade biology, in 9th grade (I was an advanced science student), and we were dissecting fetal pigs, and I opened up the flap I had just cut (anyone eating, or wanting to remain non-nauseaus for the next while, look away now) in the skull, and gazed upon the brains of the piglet; and then I stirred them around, and it was like tapioca.
Hope I have't ruined anyone's taste for tapioca. Have some!!
BUT. That doesn't change the facts.
And, it doesn't change the fact, for me, that those facts SUCK.
So. How much is ME, and how much is the illness? Bets, anyone?
Anyone wanna start a pool?
Or spin a spinner, and whatever percent it lands on, we'll decide THAT percentage split will define the me/illness boundary for the day.
A touch sarcastic or cynical? Why the hell not?
If YOU didn't know how much you was you, and how much you wasn't you, then we might be in the same slappy happy crappy boat. (Slappy being mixed, or sarcastic moods too).
Somebody SLAP me . . . isn't that a Jim Carrey line, from a movie? I think I'm getting it mixed up with something else.
I feel a bit stirred, not shaken. Like when I was in 10th grade biology, in 9th grade (I was an advanced science student), and we were dissecting fetal pigs, and I opened up the flap I had just cut (anyone eating, or wanting to remain non-nauseaus for the next while, look away now) in the skull, and gazed upon the brains of the piglet; and then I stirred them around, and it was like tapioca.
Hope I have't ruined anyone's taste for tapioca. Have some!!
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