Update on the Radio Conversation with the Governor

Well, I called the phone number Governor Huntsman gave me.

The lady there asked me what it was concerning. I asked if she was Lisa, and she said no. And yet, she didn't give me her name? Anyway, side issue.

I told her Mental Health care, and she said, "Mental Health and Substance Abuse?" And I said, yeah, even though it had nothing to do with Substance Abuse, but I suppose that's probably a department title.

I said the Governor told me to talk to Lisa Michelle Church, but she said, "Have you had a chance to talk to our division head for this category", so and so? I can't remember the name. I said no . . . she said she'd transfer me there, and then also gave me the name of someone else to talk to.

While she was transferring me, I hung up just now. I was told to talk to a certain person by Governor Huntsman, and they are beaurocratically shuffling me around??? I got the sense from her that how dare I be presumptious (sp?) to want to bother Ms/Mrs? Church . . . maybe not so much of a, how dare you, but a DEFINITE sense that I was reaching far out of my place and appropriateness and level, in wanting to talk to her. I TOLD her the Governor said to talk to her!!!

I think she is the HEAD of the Dept. of Human Services for the State of Utah, I'll have to look that up. I think that I just had too much fear to talk to some people other than whom the Governor definitely wanted me to DIRECTLY talk to. He really was kindly emphatic about his desire that I get in touch with Lisa.

I think I made a mistake when I called, in saying what issues it was about. I think I'll call back in a bit, or tomorrow, and just emphatically request to speak with Lisa Church, and not say what it's regarding, or that I'm the same person this lady/screener/secretary? just dealt with.

Seriously, I got the beaurocratic shuffle coming across BIG time in this call, just now. And I think the Governor wanted to help me cut through that. If worse comes to worse, I'll say, hey, Governor Huntsman was emphatic that I speak with Lisa . . . he wanted me to tell HER exactly what I told HIM.

I guess we'll see how I do. I'll keep you updated (as if you are interested in what happens w/lil ole me, anyway . . . .)

Now I'm feeling really STUPID about the radio call . . . .

Why is it I cycle like this? I get all bold, and do something, and then later it's like I'm shrink wrap under a heat gun . . . .

ARGH!! Am I stupid, or am I brave? I suppose those are all or nothing, to think I am one OR the other . . . . but it is hard to be anything in-between; I seem to be much about polar opposites . . . . . I get mental and emotional whiplash from all the back and forth. It's about more than just MOOD swings.

I'm talking paradigm shifts, that pull your whole worldview/perspective out from under you, and you then are operating from a place where many of the decisions you may have just made in the previous mind-set no longer make sense, and many of them you (I) can't follow through on; I have enough problems trying to do the stuff that makes sense to me, or fits with what I'm feeling or thinking.

Attitude swings . . . aside from the emotional stuff. Opinion swings too. And then there's the 'ole believing and feeling conflicting sides of an issue or situation at the same time.

I'm a storm of contrasts and extremes. Balance is NOT a part of the experience.

It's hard to explain. Somehow, I've got to LEARN balance, but even after a year of therapy, I can't even conceive of what that would be like.

I HATE HAVING SO MUCH OF ME, ABOUT ME, THAT IS ME, SHIFTING/SWINGING/CHANGING/RAPID CYCLING/ETC.

No wonder I'm dizzy, emotionally, spiritually, physically, mentally, socially, etc., ad nauseum . . . .

Ad nauseous . . .

KSL Radio Conversation w/Governor Jon Huntsman

Well . . . I just got off the phone with Governor Huntsman and Doug Wright on KSL Radio 1160 AM, in Salt Lake City, Utah.

I am not sure how I feel; I'm shaking. I feel a bit brushed off, but then again I probably need to withhold judgement until I call the person and phone number that was given to me.

I got through after quite a bit of busy signal. I related my story, which is as follows:

First I briefly mentioned the issue of health insurance parity for mental health issues, with the way other medical issues are paid. Then I got into my main issue.

I said that a year ago (and I reassured them that I am currently under the care of a psychiatrist and psychologist, funded by a miraculous and private individual/organization, an unusual situation) I was trying to access mental health care. We made about $1000 too much a year for Medicaid, and were really poor and struggling to afford food. I tried to access mental health care through the county Behavioral Health system, which I had used 10 years ago, on a sliding fee scale. This time, though, I was told by the psychologist who interviewed me over the phone, that they could not accept me for treatment unless my funding came from certain sources. I don't even know what that MEANS, although I suspect it means Medicaid, Medicare, that I'd be on Social Security Disability, or have health insurance. I asked, where are people like me supposed to go, when the state fails to provide access to services for those who have nowhere to go? I was suicidal, and turned away from any care (well, I suppose I could have attempted, and gone to the hospital, but that's not sustained care). I also mentioned that in a recent NAMI report that Utah scored D for mental health care, quality of, and access to.

The host, Doug Wright, seemed to get a little impatient at this point and asked, "What can the Governor do for you on this, what can he answer?" I said, "Well, it seems like there's been a backsliding of available services, a lessening of access to care for those in need, who have nowhere to go." I tried to make sure it sounded like I was asking for his opinion/thoughts on this issue and situation, and NOT for personal help with my problems accessing this stuff. I think, especially with this last comment, that I think I finally came across with the bigger picture, maybe . . . I was SO nervous, and scared, and probably talking fast and in a monotone . . .

His response was kind. He said, "First, I am glad you are still with us, Sara. I am glad that you are doing better. We have someone who can address those things and answer you, and I'd really like you to give her a call. He then gave me the name and phone number of a lady who, I think, might be the head of the Dept. of Human Services for the State of Utah . . . . Still, I feel kinda brushed off, a bit, I don't think and feel that they really or even more than just a tiny bit, GOT what I was trying to say . . . the problems that exist that have gotten WORSE in this state over the last decade, that I would guess is/are sending people like me away from any access to mental health care, and into the world with nowhere to turn. If it happened to me, it's happening to others . . . . Utah scored a D on the Nami report, and all they could do was give me a name and phone number?

Still, I really WILL try to withhold as much judgement as I can until I've spoken with this woman. It sounded like Governor Huntsman wants to follow up and find out from her a bit about it, MAYBE. I think it was expressed in the way and wording of what he was telling me at the end, but I was so nervous and concentrating on writing the name and number down, I can't remember. I am sure, though, that he IS concerned about the possibility that this situation has gotten WORSE in the state, and that people are in desperate straits and being rejected from care.

He was very kind, concerned, and positive with me.

Did I say my hands were still shaking? I was SO nervous and scared!!! I also wanted to bring up Annegb's horrid experience from a month or two ago, but they were getting impatient with my story, which I thought I related fairly well and fairly efficiently, given how nervous I was.

Geez, I'm still shaking. Still, I'm VERY VERY proud of myself, for stepping up and trying something to advocate for these issues.

My fingers are shaking! Okay, that's the third time I've said that. Any of you in Salt Lake who were listening, that was ME. I probably sounded like a goober.

I think I've used up all my courage for the month. Lol! For the YEAR. Annegb, it was thinking of you that helped give me the courage to do this. So THANK you. We need to talk on the phone soon.

I'd better go before I faint.

Sara

I wish I could sleep.

Sleep problems suck.

But then, so do vacuums.

I'm in a WIERRRDDD mood.

Daughter gets to stay up WAY LATE and watch the Hulk (well, some scenes I won't let her watch, but she's been doing HULK SMASH since she saw we borrowed it). It's a special treat; she's still up and it's midnight!!!

Hulk Smash. There was some post awhile ago where I was in a manic mood and saying something/somebody looked like the love child of the Grinch and the Hulk. I'll have to search that out!

It's off to the ologist again in the morning. Too much stuff happened this last week, as well as I've been broaching the subject of deeply distressing matters lately, and I had NO time for that last yesterday.

I had a REALLY BAD week. For a variety of reasons/events.

My parents went up to Yellowstone, and I SO wished I coulda gone! I hadn't realized my other sister had gone with them. I thought it was just my parents and my older brother. I miss all my family, and have been trying to plan something where my daughter and I go stay down that way for a few days, so I can hang out. Cause I never get to anymore, it seems.

You guys up for it? I was thinking about my missing my sister working up in Yellowstone, and how far away she is, and then thinking, well, just as long seems to pass before I can get down to the Provo area to see my eldest sister (or would you prefer oldest? eEeeee!) I wanna do something about that (you guys can come sleep over up here sometime too.

Anyway, gas prices DO suck, though, and we've been so tight that every gallon of gas has been eked out. BUT call me and while the parents are off, I want to see if we can come down and stay. Email me all your phone #'s again too cause I lose them all the time. Pleassseeee!!!

I want some FUN.

Oh yeah, Ma, your ODE is coming, that I promised earlier this year, hee! I've just been having alot of stuff on my mind. Besides my hair. Maybe it's UNthinning it seemed really thick today . . .

Good afternoon, good evening, and good night! First person who has commented here before, to name that movie gets . . . . to be special!!!

Reckless

Isn't there a song by that name?

Anyhoo . . . . I'm goin . . . goin . . . . gone!!! WAY way way way WAY up.

How's the weather down there on planet Earth . . .

All in the Mind II Carnival

I'm featured in the second edition of this carnival! Click the title to go there.

Here is a direct link to my featured post: Indescribable.

Enjoy!

A Mish Mash

Actor Crush of the Day: Pierce Brosnan!

Therapy was good yesterday. I had a hard time getting going, though, which is unusual since I talk my head off (which is wierd since I think of myself as painfully shy).

Shame and embarassment associated with the issues of extreme impulsivity and the lack of control of them. And that I "should" have self-control.

Yeah, that's a "should". Still, this is a HUGE struggle and problem for me, and even TALKING about it makes it more real how horrid I am in this area. How horrible I AM; okay, let me change that; instead of personalizing it, labeling myself, and overgeneralizing, how about I say I FEEL horrible about myself when I contemplate my lack of efficacy in this area.

There; see? Therapy is working, damnit! Hee hee. Sometimes I'm like, dammit, therapy is working! Get out of my head, King!

And before you freak out, that's very normal to have these changeback reactions, this psychological resistance to change. So I try not to beat myself up for it, and, in fact, I find it kind of funny and have a bit of a giggle about it. Also, it shows me that therapy IS working. And I accept the reaction as part of the process. Of course there's going to be parts of me, much of it on a subconscious level, that is pulling back against the changes. Accepting that is rather liberating.

Anyhoo, onto some more in this mish mash post. Anyone for mashed potaters?

Get back on track, brain!! (Yank!). Let's see, I didn't know I'd miss my sister as much as I do. See, it's not like I got to ever hardly see her anyway, but with her working in a national park, of course she's farther away. I impulsively decided to gift her with THIS necklace . . . I'd been thinking lately what could I do for her or give her so she'd know I missed her and was thinking about her; now she can wear this and think of ME, and a bit of me will be there with her . . . .

Plus, I think she'll enjoy the unique name I gave it too.

Oh Yeah! My dad just made me the most AWESOME wooden beads! My parents were just here, and he brought me a sampling of shapes and sizes, in sycamore (blond) and walnut (a nice deep, rich brown). I couldn't stop playing with them, and exclaiming over them, and I had to string them just to see! WOW! I can imagine all sorts of designs. I had requested some chunky ones too, size wise, and he did some of those too! These are MARVELOUS!

Thanks, Dad!!!! They are SWEET! He also made some interesting different designs, too! Wooden beads, yippee! I think a strand of wooden beads is always a good look, especially basic rounds, but wooden beads and the boho eclectic look as well are VERY, VERY in right now. Natural materials are VERY hot!!! Yippeee, I LOVE these beads!!! You know what these'd cost me to buy? Eeep! Especially in this variety. Well, some places have decent prices on a few varieties of decently sized wood beads, but beyond those few styles . . . .

And custom, to boot! Okay, enough about wooden beads.

You all are probably bored right now.

I am so VERY VERY tired. Very very very.

How does one reassure one's child that the Sun is NOT going to die for billions of years? Her concept of time is very . . . well, not developed. This is one of the areas her high-functioning autism rather affects, I think. She is SO worried about this, she checked the book out again and keeps going to the page with the life cycle of our sun on it, and a large picture of a red giant near the end of its life. I'm going to ask my ologist some strategies for relieving her fears, cause what you'd generally think of isn't working, and she's showing a repeated and strong level of concern that is concerning ME.

I remember how, as a child, as soon as I learned about volcanos at a science fair at the junior high (my older siblings were in it, I was about 7), we walked outside after, I looked up at the Catskill Mountains in the Hudson River Valley, and thought, these are all volcanos, they will all put out lava which will fill up the valley to the top, we will all burn, be melted horribly, and die.

And I was terrified of this until around 12-13 when I learned that not all mountains are volcanos, and certainly the Catskills weren't. To this day, though, I still have nightmares involving volcanos and lava. Nothing like a horrid childhood fear to really do you in.

I LOVE my psychologist!

Actor Crush of the Day: Sean Connery, yum!

I'm not IN love with him, I just LOVE him! He's sooooo good. Therapy was SOOOOOoooooo good today. Possibly because I was kind of left hanging after Tuesday, because sometimes you just HAVE to stop in the middle of something even if it's going to cause difficulties to do so, because of time constraints.

Anyway, so I'm loving therapy this week, even though I worked on stuff I didn't and don't "WANT" to, I know it's beneficial to me to. It sucks, hurting so bad, though.

Yay for therapy! Yay for a kind and good, gentle, knowledgeable, helpful, willing to explore anything I bring to the table, and sometimes adding in insights and things that I'm like, OH! That REALLY makes sense out of something I thought was nonsensible. It helps me get a different angle, grip, perspective on some troublesome things.

Anyway, he's kind and friendly and helpful and supportive and accepting and stuff. So thanks, Dr. Mower!

TV & Movie Portrayals of Mental Health Issues & MHProfessionals: Part One, Smallville

Actor Crush of the Day: Bruce Willis (Cause, in honor of this post, I decided to pick someone who has played a shrink a couple of times, plus, I actually am really drawn to him in that role . . . . )

Okay so now you know I'm wierd.

Wait, I think I've gone quite a few posts PASTS the wierd trainstop; this baby's got momentum, now!!

So, two purposes in this series; I can't find anything about myself acceptable right now, even what I like. But I'll try with postings and discussions of mental health in the moving media, both an intellectual discussion (If I Only Had a Brain is now going through my mind . . . see, even THAT movie refers to mental health, hee hee!) and also a discussion of our favorite movies, shows, characters, portrayals, etc.

First, a mini-rant about a show I like: Smallville. Granted, this show is NOT about mental health . . . but . . . actually, there's alot of seriously unhealthy people on this show.

First, Lana is quite the narcississt (sp?), although she seems to have grown up a BIT in this last season (in the two seasons previous, I just wanted to slap her and say, IT IS NOT ALL ABOUT YOU!.

And then there's the idealized relationship, at least fairly idealized, that Clark has with his adoptive parents. That was part of the premise of the show, though, that while he would have problems like any teen, in the end it'd all work out between they and he, and such. And I liked this facet of the show; it provided a safe, idealized family to fantasize about, to me. Plus, his adoptive dad is/was such a hottie!! Yum!

Ahem . . . okay, so, now on to the meteor freaks. Granted, this is a show about the adolescence and early adulthood of a superhero. Granted, it seems we're supposed to believe that for most of his life, Clark grew up in this area that, as the show wore on, seems to be LITTERED with more Kryptonite than you could shake a stick at, and except for a few sick spells out back in the woods, he never ran across any! Granted, they seem to want us to believe that this fictional substance was very mutagenic (teratogenic? what's the proper term . . .) to most people, or at least many, who were exposed to it either intensely, in the initial meteor shower, or over a long period of time.

The first season had so many of these freaks, that the show was in danger of becoming Freak of the Week. Which it often did. They toned this down
some in the second season, in favor of more Story. Which was great! I thought they went an interesting direction when the spiraling Kryptonese inside his babyhood spaceship was revealed to be a message from his biological father, saying something like he was destined to conquer the Earth. VERY much a surprising departure from the classical interpretation of Superman's origins. It has proven to add some very interesting things to the show, although can and has sometimes become an easy crutch with which to throw some non-Freak of the Week drama, conflict, and action into the show.

Still, as the seasons wore on (I discovered the show at the beginning of Season Four, mostly) I kind of looked for there to be one of these social outcasts, social outsiders in Smallville High, who turned out to be JUST a depressed, or bipolar, or whatnot person, who needed professional mental help, and that they weren't this "wierdo" because they were a meteor freak. And that Clark and pals would learn not to jump to conclusions so quickly (by the end of season 4, it seemed the amount of time they spent/needed to investigate a situation to figure out WHO was behind the wierdness going on, had DRASTICALLY gone down), and learn to actually consider the FEELINGS of other people.

Okay, you may say, HEY, this is based on a superhero, what do you expect? Well, with so many of the meteor freaks ending up in the local Arkham Asylum, in this case, Belle Reve, and with several versions (pretty much all negatively portrayed, with sometimes drastically terrible behaviors by) of psychiatrists shown throughout the last three seasons, one would hope they'd actually have a few "normal" mentally ill in there, somewhere, and "normal" and genuine and GOOD/moral, whatever, mental health professionals.

I KNOW that the show was not about mental health, but I've considered in the past, writing the show a letter requesting that they at least THINK briefly about the possibility that the constant parade of meteor freaks getting sent to the mental hospital, as well as the so far negative portrayal of psychiatrists, might be promulgating some negative stereotypes about mental illness(es), mental health professionals, facilities, services, and the issues involved.

Yes, it's JUST a show about a boy growing into a man, and an out of this world boy at that (and such a HOTTIE! at the risk of repeating myself . . .) but some people form their opinions based on such. Really, when there's been so much negative portrayal, it'd be nice for some positive, and realistic.

Realistic as in, Clark tries to intervene in a domestic abuse situation, and it blows up on him (I recall a classic/vintage Superman story involving this, and they revisited it in the comics in the 80's, with much more realism and the complications one might expect from this, such as the wife not leaving the abuser, and both of them ending up mad at him, or something.). I may not be remembering that more recent story very accurately, but generally that was the drift.

I believe that it would be VERY interesting, dramatically, and even action-wise, to see Clark have to confront how to deal with situations that are complicated by realistically portrayed mental illness. How about an episode where he saves a suicidal person, and finds out that there was someone he could have saved on the other side of town, and the suicidal person kills themselves a week later when he's off saving the world . . . . a realistic discussion and portrayal and having to figure out that it WAS NOT a waste to save that suicidal person the first time. This would present quite a few conflicts and dramas and stuff, I would think. I would HOPE that it would come to the conclusion I list, there, though.

I do recall one episode where Clark saved a teacher/coach? from the highschool, only to later have this saved person kill and try to kill some former cheerleaders, including Lana. He wondered if he wasn't supposed to save him, if it would have been better if he hadn't . . . .

I think the psychological development of Clark has been rather interesting to watch, but I think, much MORE interesting, has been the psychological development of Lex Luthor, whom I was surprised, upon discovering the series, to see that he was GOOD (well, mostly, at least early on, and as much as one COULD be having been raised by a horrific father). You could see from the beginning both of Lex's sides, but his progression along the path that will lead him to where we all know he's going, has been very interesting, and I can't help but cheer on his goodness, and sympathize with (some) of his badness, especially when you see that some of his darker actions are sometimes a direct result of what his father did to him. Even though I know cheering on his goodness is pointless (well, he's fictional anyway, but will also go bad, of course, that's a given), but I can't help it anyway.

I had an English teacher who told us that whomever changes the most, over the course of a piece of literature we were going to read, that we ought to consider the possibility that THAT person was the main character of the book. The book we then read was Ivanhoe, although we didn't really "read" it, we just watched the 4 hour movie of it. Thing is, Sam Neill's character, whom I forget the name of, went from bad, to good. Ivanhoe was the same, unchanging person throughout the entire book. Rather dull, in comparison.

That is kind of how it seems when considering Clark vs. Lex Luthor, in terms of who may be more interesting, psychologically for me.

Still, Clark pretty much has to make god-like life-or-death decisions frequently, and they aren't always clear cut, so there's alot of interest there. But Lex! . . . . He is DELICIOUSLY complex . . . . OOO that rhymes!! Plus, he's rather handsome; I can't imagine now that I'd like him as much WITH hair, as I do without. I've never seen him with it . . .

I plan on going into Lionel Luthor (Lex's dad, for those who don't know) and Lex more in the next part, and into Clark's and his adoptive parents' relationships with Jor-El in the next part of the series as well.

Mini-rant? It's turned into a novel . . . . but there's aLOT going on in this show!

Also, Lex's stay at Belle Reve, and the electroshock therapy he had there, to erase his memory (by order of his father) and all sorts of other psychological goodies (or baddies, in this case!)

Erm, I'm no psychological expert, in case it sounds like I'm coming off as one; I just find this sort of thing fascinating, and have thought about these things for a long time. Probably beaten them to death, but that's what I do best. TTFN! Hoo hoo hoo hoo!!

Laughter is Good for the Brain

Actor Crush of the Day:

Click the title and read the post there. VERY interesting. Thing is, the vast majority of comedy flicks are NOT funny to me, even when you eliminate (no pun intended) the various Adam Sandler and/or lowbrow bathroom humor and other crap (pun intended) flicks.

So where to get my laffs? I do like my Daily Psychiatry toon on the sidebar, but I've seen all of them, and only occasionally are there new ones (as, of course, he produces toons on many subjects).

Anyone? I need some medicine, I mean laughter.

On another note, today's therapy . . . well, stay tuned for part two, I go back 9am Friday. Two for the price of, well, wait, I can 't really comment on THAT since it's well, I just can't, but hey, this week is a twoferwhateverit'scostingfortwoinoneweek.

Difficult. And at the end, I said, "Well, I'm NOT glad that I just went through all that, said all that, did all that . . . . I am not glad about what I experienced." Often, after an especially emotional therapy session, there will be a sense of catharsis, a sense of cleansing, even to a tiny degree, a sense of some kind of progress, even just in opening up . . . . but today, none of those. And, I started crying again as we wrapped up, I'm not sure why, but it just IS so emotionally difficult, doing and being this. Kept crying as I walked down the hall, down the stairs, and outside.

Cry me a river, I can hear you saying, C'mon, give us a break, quit feeling sorry for yourself.

Well, how else am I supposed to describe a strangely uncathartic sob session? An unrelieved pain? At least, it feels so at the moment.

The part when I was sobbing, "I can't . . . I can't . . . I can't . . . " repeatedly, and he gently asked, "You can't . . .what?" . . . . And I responded, after searching myself . . . ."I can't be hurt by YOU again." It was very intense.

Anyway, perhaps I'll go on more about it tomorrow, perhaps not, guess we'll see. Mebbe I'll feel better after sleeping on it.

Edit: I did go on after that to talk a bit about WHY it may have been causing such intensely deep feelings in me, such a deep HURT over what seemed like such a little thing. So at least I can be proud of bringing up what I was so dreadfully afraid to. And that he kindly and mostly empathetically engaged with me throughout the entire session.

No Mirrors, Please

Actor Crush of the Day: John Schneider

I generally don't look in mirrors much, which doesn't cause much of a hardship as I don't use (don't really know how) makeup.

I glance quickly a time or two as I'm doing my hair, and on the very rare day I actually think there might be a hint of someone possibly pretty under the very rarest concurring events, I do gaze into the mirror, a little.

Vanity, thy name is Sara.

Still, looking into my own eyes, the few times I do it, I think I may almost have to do some kind of a disconnect (well, I'm rather disconnected anyway) to be able to do so.

Some part of me feels in some distant way, in some distant manner, that that could possibly be a slightly sad thing. But hey, what's done is done, this is WHAT I am.

Seeing myself in the mirror, though, is rather disconcerting, very uncomfortable, and rather unpleasant for me. There is SO MUCH crap that has been heaped upon me in my life, that that's what I see. I guess that makes me $hit.

Well, damn I'm full of myself tonight. Self-pity is just another form of self-involvement. Doesn't change MY facts though. The facts that have developed from a lifetime of emotional beatings (my husband does not abuse me in any way, just had to make that clear.) Not that he's perfect; we get pissed off at each other on a regular basis. Well, actually, if it were more often we'd be better off; our marriage is kinda like Old Faceful with constipation, and when the blockage clears, all hell breaks loose.

I apologize for any horrid images running through your mind just now, but when Old Faceful gets clogged up, it's with dirt and minerals, so get your 'ole minds outta the toilet!

I 'spose I'm working on changing "MY facts" but . . . . hell if it ain't slower 'n molasses on a cold day in December. What the hell, it's kinda NICE having someone's attention focused on ME for a change, even if they have to be PAID to do it (that brings up a whole plethora of pathetic issues, issues with patheticness, but I've done far too much of THAT these last few days). Doesn't mean I don't feel that way, but I think you've got some of the idea after these last two posts.

Speaking of Mr. Paid to Listen to Me, I'll be seeing him in 9 hours. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention I spoke to him on the phone last Wednesday, late afternoon. I am sure he'll be all kind and stuff, which is one of the things I LOVE about him. But there are times that he unknowingly causes hurt, and ALOT of it sometimes, like last week. But he didn't know all that stuff about what was going on inside me about the simple question I asked at the end of the session, to which his answer just stunned and horrified me (and it was not just a simple yes or no answer). He had no idea all the issues related to it, and feelings and crud. I hadn't really been aware of all that either, until I was horrified the whole next 24 hours and identified some of it.

Anyhoo, I'll prolly be bringing a post or two from this week, to therapy (the one or two that are about things we haven't discussed recently, or at all, but we've pretty much discussed almost all of what I've posted this week, in the past.

Poison

Actor Crush of the Day: Harrison Ford

A black widow spider! No no no nonononono no!!!!!! There was a black widow spider. And at least ONE baby, and if there's one, there's a billion more (do black widows have a zillion like other spiders?)

No no no!!!!! I don't know what to do. It was outside, the apartment next door lady was spraying something at a plastic 5 gallon bucket, and kitchen plastic garbage bag. She said she cleaned out the stairwell and our joint area there, and swept and sprayed all over. They had been getting invaded by spiders.

OHMYGOSH! A black widow spider!!!!! I've never seen one before in my entire life; I bent down a bit so's I could see the hourglass in red on its back. It was hanging off the side ridges on the outside of the plastic bucket. EWWWWWWWWWWWwwwwwwwwwwwww!

I AM SO FLIPPIN' FREAKED! I live somewhere that there are black widow spiders. NO NO NO NO NO NO!!!! HELL NO!

Um, now that you know a little more about how horribly horrible and wierd I am, well, maybe you'll understand a bit more about why I've decided I'M POISON.

The way I think, the directions I go in, the things I like, the things my mind settles on, the things I want, the things I want to do, the things I want to spend time doing, the desires I have for things, methods of doing/getting/being things, the well the things that really make up an individual's personality . . . the MANNER of my thinking, the very way my thoughts are organized (or not, depending), the WAY my SELF runs itself, runs and operates my being, my beingness, my presence in the world, the way I interact with the world and process input, experiences, likes, dislikes, sensory information, social/people interactivity or the lack thereof, EVERYTHING there is about EXISTING and LIVING and how one IS and how one is PRESENT in the world . . . . the way my brain/personality/soul/self identifies or doesn't with things, people, places, events . . . . the juvenile humor, puns, my tendency to just spontaneously, childishly go WAY too far with things like that . . . my stupid silliness, and the fact that my personality IS that, the fact that my personality is so . . . suspicious, paranoid . . . . easily angered, easily hurt . . . . offensive/defensive . . . . my very presence in this world is an OFFENSE to the sensibilities of those around me, of people in the world. The way my mind works is offensive to the way people interact with each other in the world; is insufficient to the requirement of being, of living, of existing, in any kind of appropriate or sufficient or adequate or acceptable WAY . . . . AT ALL, EVER, EVER, EVER!

And so, I, MYSELF, my very BEING-NESS, my SELF-HOOD, MY SELF-NESS, my . . . . SELF . . . . is POISON. Far more than flawed, defective, inappropriate. I AM POISON.

But then, anyone who knows me, knows this in their heart.

Oh yeah, if you've been reading this last week, you've seen me pissed off at my ologist, and then finding comfort in the safety of a therapeutic relationship, and then getting pissed off again, or if you haven't seen the latter, I'm talking about that now, cause I'm back to that. Maybe I was just finding comfort in the IDEA of a/the therapeutic relationship. Then again, I've probably idealized THAT, TOO, and done that stupid splitting thing. Further proof of my incapacity to deal. My incapacity to GET REAL.

I SUCK.

Bye.

I'm of Two Minds

That's a good description of me.

There's two different broad categories I'd say that I'm of two minds in: feelings (often conflicted, I feel often understandably), and opinions, thoughts, what I THINK.

People seem to be much more willing to understand and possibly accept that one could be of two minds emotionally about something, than they are of being of two minds about your own opinions, thoughts about anything and everything and everybody and anybody, and what you THINK that doesn't fit into those.

In fact, I daresay it has been my experience (but then I think WAIT, I suspect that people would not understand at all, and even think I'm indecisive and/or wishy-washy at the LEAST, but more likely a liar, strange/wierd/crazy, and all sorts of horrible things), or rather, I IMAGINE that it would be my experience, that letting it show that I think and BELIEVE two completely opposite things, two diametrically opposed thoughts/ideas/perceptions, two conflicting things that might not be complete opposites, but conflict greatly . . . that letting this show would end up with me being perceived as Bad. Capital B. That there would be a Bad reaction, Bad Judgements, Badness of Self perceived by the Other, that I would be accused of lying/being a liar on one or both positions/thoughts/beliefs that I conveyed/espoused/related . . . . .

Really, I suppose maybe I do some of those Bad things, Reactions, Judgements, to Myself . . . .

I suppose I could chalk some of it up to indecisiveness, because sometimes, when attempting to make a choice, I am paralyzed, mentally, from making logical or rational or any kind of thought that would make any kind of progress forward on the matter. Including on very trivial matters.

I do not think, though, I REALLY do not think, that all or even MOST of this problem could/can be attributed to that, though. I really do believe conflicting things at the same time, and this tears me apart.

Imagine if you will that I am one of those little people powered via a seesaw-action-like two-person handle railroad car thingies. That I AM this car. Each track is one of the two, pun intended, polar opposites that I am engaged with. I start to push and roll forward, but unbeknownst to me, the tracks diverge at about a half a degree each per yard or so. So for the first minute or two, things are okay, but then slowly . . . . a strain develops, and yet I push on, with more effort, as the friction increases. I keep going.

My purpose and destination and progress are not necessarily involved with the issues that the tracks represent, but they often can be and are, as well. When you are operating from a base of a point of view that rests on such conflicts, it causes problems.

I work harder and harder to keep going, and, if you will, imagine that the wheels of this train car are my legs and feet. I keep rolling along the track, but my feet are being pulled in slowly diverging directions; the effort required to continue acting in my world, and upon it, is being stressed and strained by the most often but not always subconscious process going on with the diverging train tracks. So, I start to slowly do the splits (ouch!). Stretching farther and farther to stay "afloat" (nothing like mixing metaphors! Why not, this is my analogy), eventually I reach a point of collapse, and I do. There are no longer enough resources to cope with what is expected of me, or (actually, any expectations placed on me at all tend to cause alot of distress, what kind of person does that make me? Ugh!) with what I am experiencing, or just with living and functioning in much of a manner at all.

Confused, yet? Perhaps I can elaborate on some of this in coming weeks, months. For the moment, I am kind of fatigued by this relation, and the focus (well, it wasn't extremely focused, but wasn't extremely "off-track" either (pun intended, hee hee!) is diverging from what I intend (as it frequently does). The focus also . . . mentally hurts. It gets to a point of mentally strain and then hurting, even, after awhile, often after a short while.

Relationship as Healing

Actor Crush of the Day: Ewan McGregor! Boy, I'm on a British kick, aren't I!

In the fourth paragraph down, at this link, was something that really resonated with me, and even brought up a sense of warmth and comfort, in the safety and knowledgeable protection that my ologist provides for me in therapy, and as the guardian of my real self (that last phrase is from a book he recommended I read, last December).

Speaking in very general terms, the intention of such therapy is to honor what the other person experiences with a readiness to receive her whole being, to relate to all that is in her, and thus to share in her psychic life and be in it with her during this critical period of growth. This entails attitudes of regard, respect, interest, concern, and partnership in the developmental process, with a full range of emotional experiences. Thus, as Jung has put it, psychotherapy consists of two whole psychic systems interacting in depth, in which action each is deeply affected by the other. - John Weir Perry ~ Trials of the Visionary Mind

The text there regards therapy and relating to the psychotic patient, but there were aspects of what I found written there that I felt really described some of what I feel in this odd animal, this approximate relationship, that is the therapeutic relationship.

I've only read the first page, but I found it, although probably written for mental health professionals, to be written in a way that was very expressive and understandable, which is a treat, given all the jargon involved in this field.

Possibly I identified so closely with this paragraph because it refers to "her", and it seems like such a kindly written paragraph, with concern for the needs of the patient, the therapeutic partner. Not that the professional is undergoing therapy during the patient's therapy, but they/we are partners in the process . . . at least, I think so?

This whole area can feel rather complicated. I find it to be a really awesome thing, at times, well, even when I'm angry and scared, because so far that hasn't driven him off . . . and that amazes me; not surprising for one who feels she hasn't found herself to be acceptable/accepted by others for who she is, flaws and all, without a diagnosis to "explain" her/me. (Please don't think I mean to hurt any family by saying that, but I feel I must bring up, in passing, mention of things from my experience that are applicable to the subject(s) I am discussing.)

My husband being an exception to that. Mitigating factors also being that it must be difficult for people to deal with/interact with issues of mental illness, and someone who is, while not knowing how to or what to make of me, it, things, and whatnot.

I am loved, though, even if I have trouble feeling reception of that. Like I'm a radio or TV set with antennae far out of whack, or something. And, at times, I feel I am . . . . interacted with as though I am that annoying, middle of the night, colored-bar off-air graphic with the decidedly unpleasant tone forcing itself upon you. That, though, is my problem; I need to work on my perceptions and stuff. If others need to work on theirs (from my point of view) that's their problem, and not mine, although since I'm receiving the result of their perceptions in however we interact, I suppose that's kinda . . . messy.

Well, THAT drifted off the subject, but then I've been mixed/euphoric/giddy tonight. The refrain, "Everything is Beauuuuu-tifullll . . . in it's own way-ay-ay . .", is going through my head right now.

I think I'd better close before I ramble on to twenty billion other subjects.

All In The Mind Psych Carnival

I'm a participant in this new Psych Carnival of blogs!

Take a peek. Here's a direct link to the post I submitted that is featured this time around.

Feel free to comment there, although they won't show up under recent comments because that only pulls from non-archived posts.

Therapeutic Relationship Issues This Week

Actor Crush of the Day: Sawyer, on Lost

Well, so I was freaking out yesterday, well, Tuesday and all night and into Wednesday (so it all merged into one VERY long day for me) about an interaction at the beginning of therapy on Tuesday, and one at the end. It pretty much made it as though nothing was said inbetween, because I was so stunned by his cavalier treatment of me and what I was saying.

Now, I do not expect him to be perfect; he is human. So I understand this. Still, it was jarring to say the least to get such a . . . . what the hell kind of a wierdo would say something like THAT - reaction from him. Something between an unpleasant chuckle and a derisive snort, as well as a . . . . that was such a socially unacceptable thing to say, look on his face, accompanying his reaction to the first problematic interaction.

So that's when I took a dig at him. I was rather put off by the whole thing, and very hurt. Then again, perhaps I kinda caught him before he had his "psychologist" mantle completely in place, and he reacted more like a person in a social conversation, than a mental health professional. Than MY mental health professional. It's scary, though, to see and feel emotion coming from him, which is probably why he seems to keep it so much in check as part of the psychologist thing; part of the therapeutic relationship.

That's not to say he doesn't show emotion as part of our interactions, but I think, at least when he's conscious of it, he uses it carefully and in ways and in response to things that helps me to feel encouraged, supported, that I'm talking to a PERSON and not just a cold professional face, that helps me feel that, odd and unique though the therapeutic relationship is, that it is a valid and real thing (well, not a "real world" thing, ie, he's not a part of my social/family/community life), that it is a way of interpersonally connecting, of creating, sustaining, and reinforcing that mutual human bond of essentially emotional beings.

Hmm. Interesting stuff, it's helpful to kinda write things out like this; it helps me coalesce my thoughts and feelings on things. I do tend to have HUGE problems with feeling connected with people, emotionally. With feeling that there is sincere and real depth and emotion and a humanness to any particular relationship. Perhaps the preceding paragraph was my attempt to break THROUGH this problem at the moment, so I would feel more connected with the the innumerable kindnesses he has shown me, so that I could feel some kind of reassurance inside that I don't have to be terrified of next week's appointment. To reinforce that we really do have a working relationship, an intimacy that is real and necessary for my therapy and well-being.

I am worried now that my family, my mom especially, will think that I just said something inappropriate with that word, intimacy . . . . Intimacy is much more than that between a husband and wife, or that between close friends. When you open up so much of yourself to someone, and they also do everything they can to build and foster and nurture a trust and a companiable, amiable partnership within the bounds of therapy, when they encourage and support when appropriate, and confront you with the facts that might be scary, but they do so in a way that is confident of your efficacy to endure and explore . . . . there is a REAL intimacy there.

Dangit, I just did it again. I think the above paragraph may be, yet ANOTHER attempt on my part, to tell myself it's okay; that there is something REAL there and not just a fake, forced, it's his JOB and he's PAID to talk and listen to me, kind of thing. That he is genuinely glad to see me when I arrive for my appointments, and that he really does like listening to me and helping me and stuff; that I'm not this annoying person I believe myself to the depths of my soul to be; not just annoying, but unacceptably, horrifically, inappropriate, to a degree that is annoying and irritating to the very world around me, as well as all its inhabitants.

I guess I tend to, well I KNOW I do, this all-or-nothing thing. That is one of my HUGEST things, out of all the distortions Dr. Burns lists in Feeling Good: The New Mood Therapy, or whatever that's called. I SO do this ALL the time; wait, there I go again, with another one . . . . hee hee hee! That's actually kind of funny . . . okay, so it's a TENDENCY of mine, and not a constant. There; that works better. And so, a few problematic interactions, at least for my part, in a therapy session, does not mean the end of the world (relationship).

And there I go again, feeling GUILTY about using the word RELATIONSHIP, to describe my ongoing interactions with my ologist. Guess there's some fodder for next time . . . .

I feel better already; this writing thing works (I need to do more of it, especially in my diary software; I get far too impatient with how slow handwriting is; as well, I need to do some THERE and not just here, but if all I do is the blog at least that's something . . .)

DAGNABBIT! There I go, explaining and justifying again . . . .

Well, if you're still here, thanks for reading through my post today.

Personality Disorders Are a Minefield of Issues and Lack of Coverage

Actor Crush of the Day:

Insurance companies often deny reimbursement for personality disorder treatments, leaving therapists struggling to help some of their neediest patients.

Despite the difficult-to-treat reputation of personality disorders, clinical trials of treatments show promise.

Insurance companies, GRRRRRR!!!

Well, those three words sum up probably the worst problem in the mental and medical healthcare system, although there are other major factors/problems/areas of needed change as well.

It SOUNDS like there are a VERY few insurance companies STARTING to listen and cover at least borderline personality disorder, for longer treatment periods, but . . . . that is the barest beginning of PERHAPS what might be, hopefully, a trend. It'll need alot of work, attention, and advocacy, and maybe even legislation, to move things along to where personality disorders, ALL of them, in addition to BPD, are covered.

Really, a year of therapy IS less expensive than being admitted to a hospital for a certain length of time. And various ER visits, depending on treatment given and costs thereof.

I just WISH that something other than the short term, upfront cost to the insurance company would be in the forefront of health insurance companies' minds . . . . What about the cost to society? What about the cost to employers? If there was more mental health coverage, there'd be less absenteeism at work due to mental illness, and less behaviors that interfere with work and productive behavior and efficiency at work, and so the employer would save money, thus being able to better afford more insurance coverage for their employees, thus putting more money into the insurance company. There are all SORTS of factors that play out over the medium- to long-term, that, if considered, and potentially implemented, would eventually reap many benefits.

All of this is probably obvious to most people, but again it can be summed up in those three words: Insurance companies, GRRRRRR!

(This message has been partially sponsored by Tony the Tiger, who was channeled by Sara's inner child.)

I want to do a post on some of the other factors that are broken or impaired in our mental and physical health care system, aside from the insurance (it can't be completely aside from it, as it is all interconnected . . . .)

My Ologist is a Stupidhead!

Actor Crush of the Day: Pierce Brosnan, so comforting!

I told him, "You suck and you're a stupidhead."

Although I prefaced that by warning him that I'd had a rather juvenile insult run through my mind, maybe from my inner child. Lol!!!

I don't recall having EVER used the word "stupidhead" before.

I suppose that's probabaly mild compared to some of what probably some patients dish out, though.

I am glad I finally pushed through my internal "nice police" and insulted him, because I was angry, and finally "took a slap at him" as he put it. I apologized for being rude, later in the appointment, but he doesn't see it as rude. I'm s'posed to have all sorts of feelings come up, including transferring a bunch onto him (that's what I told him about how I was able to push through my "niceness police" and just be just a tiny bit mean), and stuff.

If I can't just let all these social conventions about niceness and appropriate behavior hang, so's I can SHOW and DO and CONVEY how I feel, even primitive stuff, even not-so-primitive but adultfully complex tangles of emotion and stuff, then i won't ever get the full benefit of therapy.

Now, some social conventions should NOT be done with, even in therapy. Like, say, the social convention against taking all your clothes off and running wild (not that I've had the desire to do so; ok, so the 105 degree heat mid-summer might make one vaguely wonder . . . . hee!

But when it comes to what one SAYS, what one CONVEYS, and what one FEELS, one should just let it all hang out. MUCH easier said than done; the last year has been a slow process of learning to let my defenses down just a little bit more, and a little bit more. A couple months ago I thought I had made some breakthroughs and gotten to a very open level, but then again he went on vacation for a few weeks, and I also was pissed at him, so maybe that healed some of the breaches in my defenses; I dunno.

Psychologically speaking, I suppose the fact that I was so unspecifically pissed at him around that time may very well have something to do with him going on vacation; I cringe to even think that, though, as I hate being that obvious, pathetic, and needy. But hell, it happens to the best of us. And, actually, that may happen to the "best" of patients, no matter how hard they try to NOT be peeved that their therapist is going on vacation/leaving/etc. When one has deep-seated issues of abandonment and rejection, I suppose it would be MORE remarkable had I NOT had any feelings about the matter at all.

Anyway, so he sucks and is a stupidhead. For what that's worth! I'm sure he's probably been called much worse. I suspect; who knows!

Things I Can Do to Help My Daughter in her High-Functioning Autism

Actor Crush of the Day:

Click the title to go to a game, that is supposed to be fun and help teach emotional skills.

I am beginning to wonder what extra things, or even BASIC things, I could and/or should be doing to help my daughter while she is still fairly young, so that she will have better success as she grows, at learning things that other non-autistic don't generally need much help with, and ways of coping, workarounds, and other things high-functioning autistic children need/benefit from, so that they have a better base to work from as a teenager and onward.

I do know the phrase about Autism, "Time is Brain" . . . . the younger they are, the more malleable and teachable the brain is.

But over a year ago, when we got the dx of high-functioning autism, we were also told by the psychologist intern who evaluated her (and graduated w/her Ph.D a week or two later), that since she did NOT have a co-existing diagnosis of anxiety disorder, she would not qualify for benefits from most to all insurance companies.

What the @#$% is up with that? Autistic children need periodic therapy of some kind, don't they? I should KNOW this, but I don't! And so we haven't done anything for besides how we already naturally work with her special needs that we noticed before the dx . . . . I suspect there is much that could and/or should be done, but I have NO bloody idea what, where, etc.

She's currently on CHIP health insurance, and, in a month, will be on health insurance from hubby's work. I guess I need to check out what they cover, if ANYTHING. I am also going to be looking into other resources, though, like the game listed above.

It says there's an add-on for children age 7 and over, that you add on to the game, but I think and feel that my daughter would need to start with the base game, and see how much she doesn't "get" yet of the social and emotional skills the game teaches at that level, first. It IS supposed to be fun, which is IMPORTANT, as A, I have little focus ability for things that are forced, contrived, boring, etc. And kids probably pick up on that too . . . .

Anyway, if anyone knows of anything that could help, whether they know about this item in particular, or anything or anywhere besides links I have on the sidebar, I'd appreciate it.

One frustrated and self-deprecating/self-flagellating parent, over the issue of feeling like I'm somehow failing her by not knowing . . . .

Edit: I found a link to these from ASA's info on Sensory Integration - Sensory Integration Books

Must Be a Manic Monday!

Actor Crush of the Day: Hugh Laurie. Those EYES! And everything else, too . . . .

Okay hubbie, you know I love you. But a girl can admire eye candy, right?

Soooooooooooooooooooooooooooo . . . . . . oh yeah, be warned, I'm kinda manic @#$%#$ it. Time to pull out the 'ole cartoon swearing trick. Cause I'm @#$#$%#%ing happy, so there, and @#$@#$ on you, and you, and you if you don't like it!!! Hee hee. You know I'm being silly and teasing, rather than confrontational . . .

For another example of how these @#$@#$ #$%#$%ing and $%#$%ity $%eep mental illnesses $%#$ with my mind, see the post below. Read everything up until the pause for station identification part; that was written a week ago, when I was able to focus and write something that approaches somewhat of how well I used to be able to write.

Back now? Now read what's below it, if you can stay awake that long. Very rambly, although I must admit there was alot to talk about, but I hadn't intended on putting my thought process as to how I worked out what to do about the situation, into that post. But, of course, when I'm manic I write kinda stream-of-consciousness style. Some manic moods moreso that style than others, and it depends on the degree of my elevation.

Of course, lack of focus/poor attention & concentration is not just limited to my mania or mixed or depressed states, but those (which I am in one of the three most of the time) seriously and often severely affect/disable any concentration capability I have. For the most part. There's this hyperfocusing thing I do, on things like my beading. Too bad that never seems to work for things like household chores; only for things I like, and only for a very few to only one at any given period in my life.

For example, I love scrapbooking, but have not done any in forever. Lack of attention/motivation/interest, even though I LIKE it. I don't know how one can both be unable to focus much at all (last fall, as I started onto gapapentin/Neurontin, this became so bad I could only read two pages of a one small paragraph per page book, a day, to my daughter. I literally COULD NOT FOCUS longer than that) and yet have this hyperfocus thing, where you can go HOURS and lose track of the time, and even become kind of desensitized to the world around you while you do whatever the thing is; you become unplugged from the world to a degree, and very less aware of other things around you.

I have read that this hyperfocusing thing, is actually one form of ADD; the hyperfocus version. Which my ologist and I will explore whether or not I have that, once we get me more stable. Although, with his reluctance to provide a diagnosis of any sort (he dislikes labels, but from my point of view, that's the one tangible a mental health professional provides for being paid on my behalf, besides, I am @#$@#%@#% sick of being in the dark as to what's going on with me, and especially WHY!!!!). I had to drag the bipolar dx out of him, not that that means I don't have it.

As it turns out, it was a good thing I did, or . . . . well, let's just say it's not just ME who needs a dx to learn to be more accepting of myself. I know I probably/possibly SHOULDN'T need a dx for that, but #$%#^$#^abbit, one wants to know WHY one is such a @#$#%^$ing screwup after so many years of trying EVERYTHING to be and do better as @#$%#$%ing hard as one @$#%#$%#$ can.

Well, I digressed. Which is par for the course, in this state of being. Mania is more a whole state of being, than just a state of mind. Course, I feel like my mind is possibly a few states over from me, at the mo. Call me if you see it, and send it home, willya?

Okay. So a briefer, and hopefully funnier, example of the way my brain works (or doesn't work) in one aspect during this type of upswing is found here, on my bead blog. Read the Cinderella paragraph . . . . . see how my writing is sort of free association style? That is frequently how my brain works, even when non-manic, although to a lesser degree then (if frequently can be said to be a lesser degree, but it's almost constant when manic). Of course, it didn't help that it was after midnight, either, which seems to boost my silliness exponentially even in the best of times. Best as in less manic; some might see euphoria as "best", but if you know much about bipolar at all, you would be disabused of that notion.

I apologize again for being verbose; I hope you understand that I can't really help myself, at the moment.

Now I've got some song with the refrain of, "I can't help myself . . ." going on over and over in my head, although I can't place it. And from there my brain jumps to something about the phrase "place it", or something about the word "place", such as some joke about Brigham Young's famously uttered phrase upon entering the Salt Lake Valley in 1848, "This is the place!"

And from there, on, and on, and on, ad infinitum. And then something stupid about ads, and . . . well, you get the point. Now that I've kinda explained this, you'll probably notice this from time to time in my writing, or perhaps you already had.

So, that's me in a nutshell, today (one aspect of me anyhoo). Well, out of one because I'd hardly fit in a @#$$#$%ing nutshell, now would I? A nuthouse, now, that's another story . . .

The Joy of Helicopter Seeds & the Chagrin of Birds & the Bees

Samara Color 1470
Originally uploaded by splitcat.

Actor Crush of the Day: Hugh Jackman (very Kate & Leopold-ish; his Wolverine hairdo is stoopid-lookin, at least, for my tastes, but for Wolverine, it fits.)

I always welcome the arrival of helicopter seeds in late springtime. I remember my endless fascination with them as a child, and the wonder I felt and imagination I engaged in while viewing their spiraling flights.

I have been passing this delight down to my daughter, whom I KNEW would take supreme happiness in the discovery, explanation, and exploration of these springtime seeds.

One day about two weeks ago, I picked several up and let fly. I told her they were called helicopter seeds, because they spin about in a manner similar to the workings of a helicopter's blades, and that they glide towards the ground in their characteristic whirl in a way that seeds and the like generally do not.

I enjoyed her childish glee and wonder of discovery as she began to explore these natural wonders on her own!

(Pause for station identification; I will continue the story soon!)

Continued: Sorry it took me so long, I have many problems with consistency.

Later that day, I heard her playing outside with a friend she's made (finally!). I heard her telling Tamara to gather up some helicopter seeds and drop them, and Tamara asked, "Why do you call them helicopter seeds?" My daughter proceeded to matter-of-factly and authoritatively explain that they are called helicopter seeds because they spiral down to the ground, like helicopter blades. I listened for Tamara's reaction, and it was good! They proceeded to have alot of fun with these seeds, until Scott put up the Playhut 5x5x5 foot playhouse for them.

Tamara's mother was outside with them, keeping an eye out as she chatted on her cell phone. I can only wonder with chagrin what she must think after what happened next.

Shortly after engaging in play inside the playhouse, I heard Emily exclaim that she was going into labor; that it was time for the baby to come out. Can you imagine the look on my face??? I was like oh . . .. no . . . . .

You see, it's all my SIL Becky's fault, for having two recent babies these last couple years. Especially her youngest, Robin. Emily had all SORTS of questions about pregnancy and how babies are made, and come out, and such, because of Beck's pregnancy with Robin. She had been quite interested in the earlier pregnancy as well, but wasn't quite able to ask such pointed and detailed questions, as well as vaguer questions, but with a sense that I had of her that I had better answer with ENOUGH information to satisfy the questions (although, of course, there were lines of information I would not yet cross . . .) Emily had also, during Beck's recent pregnancy, one day exclaimed, after reading for the umpteenth time a book by Gail Gibbons on panda bears that she has, that Aunt Bea and Uncle Kitt had mated and that's how babies were made.

The look of astonishment on my face on that day must have been priceless, as well as the fact that I had to pick my jaw up off of the floor after a few moments of speechlessness . . . . You see, there is one sentence in the panda book, that says something like, and I paraphrase, "The female panda and the male panda mate to have babies."

My smart little girl had related THAT, to Beck's pregnancy. Talk about deductive reasoning (or is that inductive? I probably ought to look that up . . . .). Emily was six years old at the time . . . VERY very smart for her age, so I gave her answers that one might think would be more for an 8-9 year old. (And now, I'm just starting to move to the next level of slightly more specific with things, as, of course, she just keeps getting brighter; better from me than from kids at school.)

Anyway, THANKS Beck! Hee hee hee. Just wait til you have to 'splain it to your daughter. Fun times . . . .

Okay. So, my daughter was making yelling sounds, right after announcing it was time for the baby, and in about 5 seconds, the baby was "here" and she was taking care of it. Boy, if only it were that easy . . . I'd sure like an easy, or even regular, time, next time, please!!! I am not sure what Tamara thought of this, but I think she joined in. Emily came in and got two baby dolls and brought them out to the Playhut, and they proceeded to have babies again.

Oh . . . my . . . . gosh!!! I was SO chagrined!!! I listened VERY carefully to their play; there would be aspects of this that I would nip in the bud in a second. I carefully considered whether or not I should nip the little that was going on, in the bud, but I considered the following things:

• Little girls love playing mother, playing house, and learning about their roles as women in life. In fact, that's part of what growing up is about. For all that practically ALL mothers would be fine with their daughter playing mother to a doll, I suspect that most of them may not have let their daughter play on as I did. Now that I've had reason to think about it, that doesn't make alot of sense to me. If Emily is sophisticated (intellectually, in a way that is not necessarily socially or emotionally sophisticated, especially considering her high-functioning autism) enough to ask the questions she does, and figure out as much as she does on her own, then I feel it is ok for her to play in this generalized way about the issue.
• She is, after all, most likely going to go through pregnancy and delivery first-hand at some point in her life (I hope; she is VERY high-functioning autistic, so much so that there may just be some sensory and social differences with which she can learn to work with and around by the time she's a teenager. Then again, I do have cause to worry about this, even though it seems as though, I'm hoping, she may end up just fine . . . .), and I don't want to freak her out about it or make her think or feel that it is a negative thing. It is a positive thing, and a part of her biology, and possibly a future part of her life.
• That said, if she started acting out sex, or got too detailed, graphic, or did other play-acting that seemed too outrageous, too much, I would, of course, nip THAT in the bud and have a talk with her about how some things are not for public play.
• Some might say that about the little "labor and delivery" she did, but really, I am GLAD she is wondering about herself, in relation to this, and is working that out through play (in a very short, generalized, non-detailed way.) Some might still be having conniption fits over this, but I feel that too often, little girls are taught (often, through instances like this where someone "comes down on them" for something like this, and often unkindly/harshly) that their bodies, biological functions, life cycle issues, gender role issues (as dictated by biology and our religious beliefs; I will not let society, as little as I can do about it, I'll do as much as I can, I will not let society be her textbook for who she should be, as a girl, teenager, and woman. And, I can do much about it, although I can't isolate all that I'd wish to that I feel is negative in regards to women, that is taught by society), and other things. I will endeavor to non-judgementally have frank and open discussions with her about these issues, in non-shaming and accepting ways of any questions she might have, acceptance of the biology involved (that may sound obvious, but I still feel that, as women, we are in some ways still subliminally taught, by society, to be ashamed of many of our female bodily functions, organs, and such.), and ACCEPTING and NON-JUDGEMENTAL of her interest in and curiosity about such matters. She is a girl, and will grow to a woman.
• I can't believe it, but she's almost 8; puberty generally happens between 8-14, although 8 IS early. Still, I've gotta start thinking about it (I can't believe it!!!! My baby's growing up!)

I did have my own internal "conniption fit", as I tried to sort through the tangle of complicated and intense emotions I have, as a mother, about these issues and the very murky waters that can surround them. The very individual course that must be charted by each set of parents for their child(ren) in these matters. I think I'm comfortable with what I've related above, although I don't know Tamara's mother's feelings on the matter. I'm not sure if she heard at all, as she was on the cell phone.

I was VERY chagrined at the thought of, "Oh, what if Tamara starts playing this at home tonight, and they ask her where she learned that . . . . !" If they have a problem with it, I can discuss with Emily that this friend's mother would rather they didn't play that, but that Emily didn't do anything wrong; she just needs to do it alone, or with other friends. And hope that Emily doesn't get hurt by this.

Part of me was giggling a bit inside, though. I mean, my little girl comes up with the funniest things, sometimes. Sometimes outrageously funny, or funnily outrageous . . . . she just figures out so many things, that I couldn't stop her figuring them out if I tried!!!

The Widow's Mite & Punchbuggy Sara

Actor Crush of the Day: Ewan McGregor (I just love his accent, among other things . . . .)

I have more on a variety of aspects of issues that I've been thinking about regarding unconditional positive regard, but I haven't pulled them together yet.

I've also had alot of other things occur to me this week, and last night one of them was a different take on the biblical story of The Widow's Mite. You know, where more well-to-do people place many coins in the box, but this widow, who has so little it's practically nothing, puts in the only coin she has.

Last night, I was thinking about things as I was praying my bedtime prayer, as well as afterwards. I thought, "Lord, I am so sorry that my life is such a poor dedication to you; such a poor gift I have to give, is this struggle of a life with little to show in the way of external results/accomplishments, for it." I thought about this for awhile, and about another analogy that has been at least somewhat helpful for me to learn to accept myself a little bit and not be as judgemental about my failings/failure to be and do much.

Picture everyone as a car (I'm a cute punchbuggy . . . .!) In this analogy, all cars use the same amount of gas per mile. Now, my car has a really twitchy/funky steering performance; I spend most of my time weaving back and forth, sometimes completely perpendicular to or even angled slightly backwards to, the path of progression. Everyone else (yes, I know everyone has struggles, but this is a rough analogy of mental illness vs. non) gets to toodle along on their somewhat merry way, proceeding at least somewhat efficiently and markedly farther, along the road laid out in front of us. After everyone's gas runs out at about the same time, it's quite clear to see that I got nowhere near as far as anyone else. You see, all that struggling with the twitchy and mind-of-it's own steering, as it swung me back and forth and I struggled to mitigate the effects of such, caused me to travel the same physical miles as the others, but much of that mileage was criss-crossing the path of progression, and even going against the flow. I like this analogy because, while I know it can be perilous to compare how much one does/can do compared to others, I think this analogy can help others to understand, a very little perhaps, of one way in which mental illness can affect people. And can help them, perhaps, be a bit less judgemental of them, or even others who are not mentally ill, but just have different struggles in life than they do. I'm all for promoting less judgementalism (is that a word? hee) in life.

Back to the widow's mite. As I pondered these analogies, the widow's mite story popped into my head, and it felt so natural to think, hey, my life is not a poor gift to the Lord after all; I am giving what I have, what I am; this is not valueless, and, in fact, is probably of great worth to Him. I say probably, because I am not all conceited and thinking I'm All That. Lol!

I felt, though, that being ME, as I often feel is such a poor excuse for anything, was perhaps not such a bad thing/person to be, and was, perhaps, in some way I cannot fathom or approach or accept (as yet, and most of me feels, NEVER! could I accept myself), something . . . well, maybe not worthy, but something . . . . tangible? concrete? something . . . . useful? something . . . VALID.

I also thought, hey, this biblical allegory is often used in lessons, talks, etc. to teach the principal of tithing, service, and other things. It really struck me, though, that it had so much meaning to learning to accept what one has to give from one's self, what one has to offer, what one has or does not have in the way of ability, capability, efficacy, and the ability or lack there of to be and do in the ways and means that the world generally measures one's worth and place in life.

I don't mean to preach or anything, but I did feel that this experience last night helps illuminate a bit more of my struggles with what I go through.

Yippee! My Blogs are back in the Dashboard!

Actor Crush of the Day: Matthew Fox! I'd get Lost with him ANYTIME!

On another note, I recently came across the subject of unconditional positive regard, on the blog Shrink Rap, in these comments. When I read that phrase, I immediately knew it was a major part of what my psychologist does with me, and I started freaking out that what I saw as a really kind and supportive and unconditionally accepting part of our therapeutic relationship, may actually have been something fake, contrived, just a "trick" from the psychology bag o' tricks.

We had a good discussion about it, about which I'll post a bit more later after I've listed to the recording of today's therapy on my mp3 player (I love recording our sessions on this thingie!)

It is GOOD to be back. Although my husband might say, it is better to be FRONT. Hee hee.

NAMI Grading the States 2006 (A Report on America's Health Care System for Serious Mental Illness)

Actor Crush of the Day: Matthew Fox! Cause he is. Hee!

Click the title to follow the link. Then, click YOUR particular state, to see your state's "grade" in the arena of mental health spending, resources, information, services, etc.

I live in a grade D state. Eeee!

I found this on Dr. Deborah Serani's Blog.

I found her blog through Damn I Hate Being Depressed's blog.

My knee bone connects to the thigh bone, my thigh bone connects to the . . . .

Oh wait, where were we? Hee hee. Please pardon my giggling. I'm really more adult than I may seem at the moment. Being up at 2:30 am is bound to do that to a person.

There's alot of good mental health links in Dr. Deb's sidebar, which I'll be taking a look into. As well as reading her posts, and linking to them from time to time as I see pertinent information. There's a lot of it, there, but then, there would be, given the focus of her blog.

On another note, my dear daughter caught what's been going around, and so, it seems, has my husband. We're up finishing the third Lord of the Rings movie, since we get to sleep in tomorrow (with sickos in the house, we won't be at 9am church).

Take a look at the Hmmm T-shirts-for-mental-disorders post while you are at it . . . I did have a chuckle at several of the shirts, but then I thought about if I was actually wearing some of those, that apply to me, and did I think it would promote more understanding and acceptance of the mentally ill, or promote more stereotypes? And, while I decided that perhaps seeing people wearing this sort of thing about, might lead to some form of some kind of increased acceptance (although it might not be such a positive form), in the end I think it would just create and/or rigidify stereotypes in people's minds.

Somewhere far down in the comments of that post, I posted about some shirts I have, one of which has Grumpy, of the Seven Dwarves on the front, and in big, 70's-ish letters, "MOODY". And why that was so positive for me.

Re-Focus of Purpose for this Blog

I've gotten away, a bit, from my purpose for this blog, although I think that's understandable since I've been going through alot. Also, that WILL happen from time to time given the nature of my conditions, and, will also show, in a way, what it's like to BE this way. So in that way, I haven't completely left off from what I meant to do, here.

I mean to show what it is like to live with and learn about these mental illnesses, since I'm still barely starting to learn.

I mean to show, over time, hopefully, the difference that therapy is making in my life. I think, just by my writing and the experiences I relate, improvements will naturally show. I do not, though, intend for people to judge me for any perceived "backsliding" or not improving "fast enough" or in ways or areas that others would prefer. People might judge me anyway, but I know that I am not asking anyone to "police" my improvement or lack thereof. Plus, the nature of my predicament is quite cyclical, anyway.

I mean to show how a discomfort or even prejudice, unconscious or otherwise, about or against the mentally ill, affects MY life, and the mentally ill in general, and those around them. And how it may even affect those who aren't, and don't know anyone who is mentally ill. I think there are many issues involved with mental illness, the mental health care system (which is fairly broken, at least as far as options for most people and funding and government assistance, health insurance mental health parity with other illnesses paid by health insurance, legislation and/or the lack thereof, etc.) that affect everyone, whether they know it or not.

I mean to show much about the way the system is working, and/or not working for me, or has or has not in the past, and what I think might be some ideas for improving things (with a LOT input and response and ideas from you guys, I hope).

I mean to show much about a variety of legislative issues surrounding mental illness, regarding funding research, diagnosis, treatment, health insurance parity with other illnesses, legal issues and rights for and about the mentally ill and their caregivers, and many other legislative issues.

I mean to show much about what people can DO to advocate for any aspect of any of these issues, by researching, finding, and relating resources for first, learning enough from respectable and legitimate sources, of both or more sides of the issues, and then where to expend your time, attention, emails, etc. and whom to send them to and contact/interact with, to bring these important issues closer to the front of county, state, and national officials' attention.

I mean to look into what is being researched in the way of mental illness, and getting to the root of some of the causes, that have not been discovered yet, both environmental (as in, the person's childhood, etc.), biological, and other. There are some interesting studies going on that are showing some differences in the brain, that I find fascinating. Although a bit . . . taken aback, sometimes, when I think, HEY, they are talking about stuff that would be going on in MY brain (if they are talking about my specific illnesses and disorders).

I mean to inject some humor into much of what I do, and convey, in a hopefully appropriate way, as that is one thing that helps me get through. And I hope we can have many good laughs together.

I mean to show various resources for the mentally ill, their families, friends, caregivers, and anyone else who is interested, as I discover them. I have several that I have used, one of which most people don't know about, but it can save $$$, that I may post about.

I can't guarantee anything or everything I say is completely accurate; I am not a lawyer, legislator, medical researcher, doctor, etc. I am not an expert, and I can't pretend to say that I know what I am doing when it comes to supporting others with mental illness; I am not a counselor, social worker, etc. Do not take any of my words or advice as representing what a mental health professional would recommend; please contact yours or locate one using various resources, some of which I'll post about, but for general and specific mental health advice, please contact a professional.

With that said, though, I will do my best to provide a place, here, where those interested, and those who know someone or are suffering from mental illness themselves can have a place to come for encouraging, friendly accepting support and understanding, as far as one can without knowing what it is like to have that specific illness.

I hope to give a snapshot of what it can be like, in MY situation, so that perhaps people can learn to understand a bit more of what the REALITY of being mentally ill is like, and what it can be like for those who love me, at least, from my perspective anyway. I may perhaps ask a trusted family member or two to post from time to time, from their perspective, if they are willing.

So. This is all ambitious, I know. Alot of it will be spread out, over time, and it will take time for me to know a bit more about alot of these before I'm comfortable starting to post on them. But hopefully we can make this journey together.

If any of YOU find resources, information, legislative stuff, etc., shoot me an email or a comment and let me know.

I also mean to post about my life, and not necessarily always mental illness, as I want and need to learn to accept myself better, and as I learn that I am NOT stupid for LOVING Wonder Woman and collecting items in that theme, and other things, and post about them, I come to accept myself more.

I am still cringing about posting that, as though it is some juvenile, stupid thing. But hey, it's out there.

I hope for some understanding and acceptance and support, but I know that, of course, I can't count on it. Thank you to those who do, and those who read this blog, and hopefully those who have given up on reading it as I've rather wandered muchly the last several months, may check again and come back.

Anyway, it won't be an overnight change, here, but these are all my intentions.

Basically my life, mixed up with mental illness issues, learning to accept myself and explore more of the things that interest me, and become COMFORTABLE with being the person who has those interests, as well as posting about autism issues in the same vein as everything mentioned above about mental illness issues.

Gee, that's not much, is it?

A little bit at a time. One piece, here and there, and it'll all form a bigger picture as time goes on.

Thanks for reading!

Sara

Your Support Helps Me SO Much!

It has helped, is helping, and will help.

I have been struggling, floundering, frenetically reaching for any light, kindness, love, friendship, support, et. al, to help sustain me, and I find it, again and again, through the kind and sometimes difficult and very deep expressions of experience, friendship, kindness, and love that have been posted here for me.

I hate to feel so needy, though, but as I KNOW that I am putting everything I can into fighting this darkness, I am trying to tell myself that I shouldn't feel guilty for needing or wanting support, for needing or wanting contact and communication with people who care, who are concerned, who like to laugh with me, who accept my silliness and dark mood swings and bouts/bursts of extreme neediness, who see my more intellectual side and accept that too, and don't judge me as just a silly, juvenile, manic, depressed, flighty individual.

THANK YOU. I appreciate and need all of you. (Why is it that the final scene from Labyrinth, in Sarah's bedroom with all the Jim-Henson creatures, is going through my mind right now? Hee! You're the babe with the power . . . What power? The power of voodoo . . . . Who do? You do . . . Do what? Remind me of the babe . . . . What babe? The babe with the power . . . Hee hee hee!)

Guess I need to watch that again, now. Lol! I feel like I'm in that MC. Escher-like maze of crazy, 4-dimensionally going every which-way and dimension and direction, stairways. 4-dimensionally probably isn't the right term for it but there really ISN'T one.

Anyway! Thank you. I am glad to see people haven't given up on me, and to see EVERYONE who returns. I mean to visit you, Lizzie, and Barb, go to that website of poetry you moderate, but then I always fizzle out. Well, not always. But I'll get there . . . .

Thank you for WANTING me. For wanting me to EXIST. Feeling NOT WANTED is a horrible thing for me. And has been a particular struggle, of late. As you've seen.

But, as I told my ologist, the way out is THROUGH. I have to feel what I'm feeling, let the emotions and reactions HAPPEN inside (pushing them away and burying will only cause more problems, long-term), work on them, feel them, sometimes just hold on as they batter me. It is NOT self-indulgent to be within this, within the experience of these emotions, to let them wash over me. I do periodically check my "Wallow" meter, to see if I'm just wallowing in it, or if I'm EXPERIENCING it, letting it happen so I can realize what I need to from the process. And then, when the emotions recede for a bit, sometimes work on what has come out of the storm, and figure a tiny bit more out.

I wish, so much, that I didn't have this, but I do. It's my life, my experience, now. So, I'll be going THROUGH it, and I apologize for the moodiness this is going to cause. SEVERE moodiness. And, given the number and depth of the issues involved, it could be years, before I have fully processed the issues; before I've come to the end of the road for a particular difficulty or trouble. I don't know when I'll be THROUGH, but that's the only way I can see to go. I can't shove it aside.

SO. Thank you all for being with me, here, through this. I'm NOT abandoning this blog; I'll be back to my more frequent posting at some point, probably not a distant point; ie, probably sooner rather than later. I just don't know yet, from day to day, how much I can do.

But, I am here to STAY! I am so glad that others value me, although I do recognize the need for me to internalize a self-valuing.

My ologist is going on vacation for two weeks; tomorrow is my last appt. with him before he goes. So, I'm going to be . . . probably in some difficulties.

THAT'S nothing new. But, I am trying to find some light in humor.

Like the CrashBonsai thing, it just makes me giggle!

Or how about THIS:

Especially good for late-night surfing and there's no CERTS in sight!

With that laugh, I leave you and bid you adieu; a bientot!

Do you KNOW how it feels . . .

to know that the worst thing about yourself, is that you exist, AND that other people feel that way, too?

That last, is a real kicker . . . . because then it's not possible that it's just ME inside and my stupid fears.

I know, that if I were strong enough, it should NOT matter one tiny little bit what someone else thinks.

But then again, we are talking about someone, ME, who struggles with even BEING here, and then to know that someone else is desirous of pushing you down into wretchedness even farther . . . . how much farther can you go, than not wanting to be here, and WHY would someone want to make someone in my situation, feel even WORSE? Hell, even if I WASN'T in this situation . . . .

It hurts me SO BAD to have the things inside, the feelings and thoughts, that were BEHIND and the CAUSE of my suicide attempt in February, thrown at me by another human being. Among other things that make it worse.

I AM A WRETCHED, PITIFUL THING.

But I am here; I remain. I exist, even if it takes all my strength and effort just to do THAT.

Do you know how STRONG I am, that I remain, that I EXIST, in this storm, without falling over? I am here, being pelted by the hail of hell (my illnesses, thoughts, feelings, stress, and other things), baseball-size battering me into a pulp, shredding my soul into tatters . . . . and yet, I REMAIN. My soul whispers that in a whisper that is yet such a universally loud proclamation that I will not go under . . . though I may not know how I may ever sew the tatters of my being-ness back into any semblance of a workable fabric, I REMAIN.

That, alone, is my strength, and the focus of my purpose and struggle. I AM HERE, and I am not going anywhere, though the hail would destroy me; I am upright, though torn, bloodied, bruised, wounded, battered, and emotionally, spiritually, mentally, physically, and completely EXHAUSTED.

I REMAIN, and that is my refrain. If this is all I can do right now, SO BE IT, although I struggle mightily with self and other judgements that I am not doing more; I am completely bent on just FIGHTING with all my heart and soul the TEMPESTS that beset me.

Thanks Barb, and Everyone . . .

I'm still here.

I dunno how, but I am.

I Am and Have Been in Shock for a Few Days

I am consumed with a pain, that is unfathomable . . .

I am riddled with arrows as thick, barbed, primitive, and deadly as those which riddled poor Boromir at the end of The Fellowship of the Ring.

When what I thought was pure, has been ripped, slashed, and torn from my trembling grasp . . .

When my strength, and also where I hoped that I could turn for strength, has been stolen from me . . . .

I feel abandoned and rejected, in the worst ways I imagine that one could feel.

I am bereft.

I am stunned.

I cry into the darkness of night, and my cry swells into more horror than I can contain.

This is only ONE of the monsters with which I wrestle, and these monsters are on steroids.

I AM BEREFT!

What am I to do, with this knowledge I now have, this knowledge that is crushing my world, is part of the crumbling away of the very ground on which I thought I stood . . .

The abyss yawns . . . stretching its mouth open wide, eager to claim what it knows as its very own. I feel as a kindred spirit to that abyss. I KNOW the abyss; I feel it in my heart, in the depths of my soul.

When things are not as I always thought they were, when the ties that I thought bound us together, in reality were only a fairy tale of a very foolish girl who thought she was wanted . . . .

How stupid of me.

WHAT DO I DO WITH THIS?

Somebody PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE help me.

I Am and Have Been in Shock for a Few Days

Actor Crush of the Day:

I'm Glad I Have Friends Here

Actor Crush of the Day: Matthew McConaughey

Let's chat. Oh, and Anne GB, could you give me a call please? Thanks . . .

I hate to be so needy, but I need friends. Most everyone does . . .

I've been calling my SIL too much, and so thought I'd turn here for some kindness, warmth, empathy, and support.

And just some good 'ole chat.

So. How are your lives going? Anything new happen lately? Good things, I hope.

My husband lost his job the last day of January. We were fortunate in that he found a good, better-paying job that he's been at for a few weeks now. I can't wait for the benefits in four months, although I am worried that getting us all insurance might eat up most of the difference in pay from his last, lower-paying job.

Still, I've heard they have really GOOD benefits, because they like to keep their employees, and keep them happy. So, we'll see!

I actually cooked quite a bit this last week! Five days of yummy dinners, for $50 for the ingredients, and it included steak, salmon fillets, and two pounds of chicken for two different dinners. Let me say, OOOOOOoooooo we were eating good this week! It has been SO LONG since I could CHOOSE ingredients to buy.

My husband helped me alot with the cooking, and cooked the fifth meal himself last night, but I am proud of myself for doing some cooking this last week. I often don't have it in me to even grab myself anything to eat, let alone cook, except for throwing something in the nuker for Emily sometimes. So most of the time, I eat little to nothing, at least, if it weren't for my hubby, fixing food for me. There's no motivation or incentive to make anything to eat, often, for me, and the few times I do feel like making something, the lack of any possibility of anything I'd want to eat in the house, pretty much puts an end to that, and so I don't eat.

Yeah, I sound finicky, I know, but seriously, if I can't muster up a good reason to eat (yes, I know living should be a good reason, but it needs to be something that MOTIVATES me, that fills me with the desire to overcome all the obstacles and difficulties and extra effort it requires to get up and eat/fix & eat something.)

Anyway, so we had some yummy dinners! What have you all been fixing and eating this week? I LOOOOvvvee talking about food and recipes and stuff, which also helps motivate me to do more of that too.

I don't know what I'd do without my caring husband. With everything else, and he's become a cook for me. That might sound bad, to some, but loved ones of the mentally ill become the caretakers, when the ill just lose every erg of energy, mental and/or otherwise, to do for themselves.

I wish the weather would stay warm, as it's chilled off a bit the last 4-5 days. I know it's barely March, though. It'll warm soon enough.

How is it, the weather, where you are?

I've been beading, and finishing off some necklaces, take a look on my beading blog! It's part of why I haven't been around Piebolar for a few days. I'll have some more things soon, though I must say, I am SO tempted to keep the picture jasper necklace. It looks WONDERFUL, on!

I dunno, what else would you like to talk about? Name it! I need some chat, and to know that people actually want to converse with me.

Course, I know it's not just about me and what I need, it's about enjoying each other's personalities and stuff.

Tears For A Friend

Of the furry variety.

Tears are rolling down my face, again. The love this animal brought to my life, is a beautiful thing. He loved simply, and he loved deeply.

He was there, when I needed some comfort. He was there, when I needed to be needed. He really enjoyed the scritching and body massages I started giving him this winter, on a couple occasions. He was there, afterwards, to shed yet more fur after such massage, even though I looked like the Shaggy Dog by then . . .

He was there, when I needed a friendly smile, with nothing but pure love and doggy personality behind it. He was there to greet me, with a bark and wagging tail, when I'd open the door and enter his house.

He was there, when I couldn't be, to comfort Betty. He was there to be a companion, and deep friend, and a source of unconditional love for her, no matter what, no matter when, even when I could not be there.

He was kind, he was fun (especially in his younger days!), he was white, he was willing to do tricks for treats (with occasional coaxing!), he was loyal, he was ALWAYS concerned for the welfare of his pet human, Betty, and he was willing to accept me as a member of his pack when I married into the family. He was simple, he was a joy, he was playful (especially in his younger days, again!), he was unique; he had his quirks, and his particularities, and he had his greeting for all those who were welcome; he also had his greeting for all those who were not, among which number passing bicycles, skateboards, deliverymen, and strange dogs. He did enjoy a good chase of any felines he caught wind of, even of late when he was not as spry.

He was comfort, he was companion, he was a beggar for table scraps (oh, that LOOK in his eyes!) He was friend, he was confidante, for whom would he tell your secrets to? He was the memory of a fuzzy white furball you could hold in the palm of your hand;

he was BEAR.

Goodbye, my friend. Until I see you again, with this parting eulogy I leave you, and sadly, yet gladly, for your release from infirmity, do we part from each other for a time.

I'll be waiting to give you a massage, the next time we meet.

I imagine, that I hear your, "Rff!", and see the gleam in your eye, the smile beneath, the perk of your ears, the tilt of your head, and see the welcome wag of your tail.

Goodbye . . . .