Well, it's here. Today is the day. From the outside, to your average observer, I'm sure it looks like any other day of the year. It's a unseasonably warm autumn day. The air is crisp and full of excitement. Children everywhere are eager to set out and get treats and do some tricks. Yes, today is Halloween!
Halloween has always been warm and sweet for me. I have fond memories of parties with my Aunt Linda and Uncle Eddie. They always did wonderful things for children; theirs and their adopted ones (like me), with no favoritism or biased. We bobbed for apples. I was never successful at this task and truthfully dreaded it every year, but, it always meant that the pinata was coming next. I endured it. We were then unleashed on the poor paper mache' animal. We'd beat the bloody hell out of it, excited to be the one who'd crack it open. It always held delicious sweets and goodies. I remember the smell of the fall leaves as they blew across the front lawn while we'd eat the sweets that we'd worked so hard to get. I can see the stars as they twinkled over our heads. I was too young to really appreciate what an amazing time this was. How innocent and simple. I remember the awesome costumes that their family had. Always better than my store bought one, because they're Mom had made theirs with love. I remember feeling cheated some how because my costume was mere plastic, whilst theirs felt whole somehow. More complete. More real.
Now, I'm the mom who can't sew a stitch. I have to look around at my children's friends and notice the ones who's mom's really can sew. I see their sweet costumes and it takes me right back to Corpus Christi, TX, 1978. I pray that my children don't feel unloved due to my lack of seamstress skills. Thankfully, I have a sister whom CAN sew. She's made several costumes for my children and for that I am eternally grateful.
Today is Halloween and it's the beginning of new traditions for us. This past year has been a year of change for me and one of those changes is with whom I'm spending my time. I've lost some friends and made some new ones, too. I was invited to, and attended a wonderful party at a "new friends" house. New. Yet, I've spent this day, Halloween, with a certain friend for a decade. We've shared our traditions with each others families for ten long years. Meaningful. We will not be sharing today with them. I won't see her children's costumes. Oh, I'll probably see some photos on Facebook. Hollow. We won't try hard to remember who walked with the kids last year....the men or the women? We won't be pouring a dozen glasses of Bailey's and hot cocoa. We won't be dishing out bowl after bowl of chicken noodle soup. No....this year, I'm making the soup alone. I'm drinking the hot cocoa and Bailey's with my husband. I'm handing out candy at my house. For the first time in a decade. I'm excited to see the little trick or treaters. Happy to be there for them and their family traditions.
I will also be letting go. It's with a deep breath and much prayer that I send my children out to trick or treat in the neighborhood alone, for the first time. Double gulp. My eldest is quite old enough to walk around and ring a few bells and collect some candy, yet..........I feel cheated somehow. How did this happen? How did she grow up so fast? How is it that she wants to be with her friends more than she wants to be with me? When did she stop needing me? When did that tradition see it's last sunrise? How did I miss it? Was I looking in the wrong direction? Clearly. Was I so busy fretting over who's who and what's what and trying to detoxify my life, that I missed it entirely? Perhaps.
Is it also possible that somewhere along the way I learned how to be a better mother? Gasp! Have I finally figured out that the best part of MY Halloween memories were the ones that I spent with my friends!! I can't honestly remember my mom even being with me on a Halloween. Not one. But, I can remember my friends. I remember the fun, the fancy, the fantasy of it all. Magical. So, today is the day. I'm content with my lot. I'm proud of my children. I'm happy with my self. I'm thrilled with my marriage. I have good, honest, considerate, loving friends. If today is my new beginning then, so be it. I'm ready.
Take a deep breath.......it's just another day in Perfect!!!
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Are you an "Alpha"?
Are you the kind of person who doesn't take "no" for an answer? Are you the kind of person who always "gets your way"? Are you able to force your will down peoples throats? Are you unable to see past your own desires to notice the "little guys' throat you're standing on? Wait. This took an ugly turn, didn't it?
I'm challenging all you "Alphas" out there.......is THAT what you really are? Or are you.....well, to put it simply just a bitch? (Still the "top dog" in my book!!)
I want you to really stop and take a long, hard look at yourself. Do you stomp all over other people? Is it hard for you to listen to criticism? Even harder to acknowledge that you're.....gulp....wrong? Are you so busy pointing out every one else's flaws that you fail to notice your own? I ask you........could this be your defense mechanism?
Is it possible that, under al that tough bitchy exterior, you're really just scared? Terrified that someone might get 'inside' and hurt you? Or worse.....oh no.......see that you're just as fucked up as the rest of us!!! Blasphemy, I know.
I've really had the occasion recently, to take a step back. Look at the people in my life through new eyes; clearer eyes. Let's say that I've had "lasik" on my "persona viewing system. What a view it is!!! I've come to see that, those people whom I earlier thought of as "tough as nails" and "uber confident" aren't really either one. I've noticed that those of us that, some would call "wimps", couldn't been further from reality. I've started to notice the nuance of words. Behaviors. Call it wisdom. Call if intuition. Call if perception. Call it bullshit. I really don't care.
There. I said it. I.....shocking news to some......don't care what you think. Now, this really is new!! Usually, I'm NOT the Alpha. No one would accuse me of being pushy, or "in your face". I'm quite the people pleaser. The "yes" woman. My "lasik" has made it clear to me, that this was MY defense mechanism. I want to be liked. I want you to like me. Hell, I want EVERYONE to like me. Or, at least I did. Now, I can honestly say......let me clear my throat for this one......'I DO NOT GIVE A SHIT IF YOU LIKE ME!!" Woo-hoo!!!! That was liberating. And also........a total lie. Of course, I care if you like me, I've just stopped letting, whether or not everyone likes me, all the time, be the deciding factor on how my day goes. Or week. Hell, month! I used to go on and on about how unfair it is that those "Alpha Bitches" didn't understand me; didn't know me; didn't WANT to know me. Now, I'm thankful. You see, "AB" (Alpha Bitchiness) is contagious. Supremely so.
"AB" rubs off on us non-Alphas. It's funny really. The carriers of "AB", don't WANT you to get it because then, well, let's be honest......you just might over bitch them. You might cause a revolt and take over their "AB" carrier position. Unheard of!!! But, when anyone spends any amount of time with a "AB" carrier, they can't help but get infected. I found myself starting to hate my life. Strange? I found myself feeling less than adequate at.......well, everything. A sure sign of "AB" syndrome. Ironically enough, I couldn't get enough "ABS" (Alpha Bitch Syndrome, for those of you who haven't figured it out yet......). Interesting? It was like I needed to be infected with more every single day. I didn't know who I was without a bit of that ABS running through my system. Scary.
Now, those of you who might be carriers of "ABS", I suppose the real question is this......do you even care? I would wager, not so much. This is the next thing that I've noticed: ABSC (Alpha Bitch Sydrome Carriers.....isn't this fun??) don't care who they infect. All they care about is the never ending supply of people, waiting in line to be infected. See, for whatever reason ABSC's seem to be irresistible to us non-ABSC's. We seek them out, every bit as much as they seek us out. A moth to the flame, perhaps? See non-ABSC's see the ABSC as strong and independent and we see ourselves as pathetic and wishy washy and weak. Now....hmmmm......let's stop an analyze this for a minute. Is any part of that feeling, true? You bet your sweet ass it is. ABSC's are confident. Overly so, usually. Non-ABSC's are wishy washy. We do FEEL pathetic because we're conditioned by, wait for it....ABSC's to believe that we ARE pathetic. And round and round we go, ladies!! Now, does the carrier care what carnage is left over after they've infected a non-ABSC and then moved on to their next victim? Doubtful.
The ABSC is so trained to just keep on, keepin' on, that they don't usually stop and recognize their own pattern. After all, the Alpha is an Alpha for a reason. Take no prisoners. Make no apologies, right? When was the last time you saw an Alpha Wolf feel badly for making the kill? Yeah, right?! I ask you though, is THAT how you want to be known? Is being so tough that you never get hurt really the answer? Is seeing people as disposable or, at a minimum easily replaced, a good thing? Don't you just want to drop that heavy load you're carrying? Wouldn't it be nice to just sit back and let someone truly, really, deeply openly know and love you? Without being afraid of how vulnerable that makes you? Without having to ruin that person, because they just might hurt you first or worse even, tell someone that you're flawed, too? Couldn't you see the ABSC as All the Bull Shit I'm Carrying? (Did you like that one???)
Now, I realize that this is a suggestion coming from the "weaker" Non-ABSC and that that in and of itself might turn you off to taking the advice, but, don't do it for me. Do it for yourself. Do it for your daughters. Let other women know that you can be cured of ABSC and move on. It's not too late.
Take a deep breath.......it's just another day in Perfect!!!
I'm challenging all you "Alphas" out there.......is THAT what you really are? Or are you.....well, to put it simply just a bitch? (Still the "top dog" in my book!!)
I want you to really stop and take a long, hard look at yourself. Do you stomp all over other people? Is it hard for you to listen to criticism? Even harder to acknowledge that you're.....gulp....wrong? Are you so busy pointing out every one else's flaws that you fail to notice your own? I ask you........could this be your defense mechanism?
Is it possible that, under al that tough bitchy exterior, you're really just scared? Terrified that someone might get 'inside' and hurt you? Or worse.....oh no.......see that you're just as fucked up as the rest of us!!! Blasphemy, I know.
I've really had the occasion recently, to take a step back. Look at the people in my life through new eyes; clearer eyes. Let's say that I've had "lasik" on my "persona viewing system. What a view it is!!! I've come to see that, those people whom I earlier thought of as "tough as nails" and "uber confident" aren't really either one. I've noticed that those of us that, some would call "wimps", couldn't been further from reality. I've started to notice the nuance of words. Behaviors. Call it wisdom. Call if intuition. Call if perception. Call it bullshit. I really don't care.
There. I said it. I.....shocking news to some......don't care what you think. Now, this really is new!! Usually, I'm NOT the Alpha. No one would accuse me of being pushy, or "in your face". I'm quite the people pleaser. The "yes" woman. My "lasik" has made it clear to me, that this was MY defense mechanism. I want to be liked. I want you to like me. Hell, I want EVERYONE to like me. Or, at least I did. Now, I can honestly say......let me clear my throat for this one......'I DO NOT GIVE A SHIT IF YOU LIKE ME!!" Woo-hoo!!!! That was liberating. And also........a total lie. Of course, I care if you like me, I've just stopped letting, whether or not everyone likes me, all the time, be the deciding factor on how my day goes. Or week. Hell, month! I used to go on and on about how unfair it is that those "Alpha Bitches" didn't understand me; didn't know me; didn't WANT to know me. Now, I'm thankful. You see, "AB" (Alpha Bitchiness) is contagious. Supremely so.
"AB" rubs off on us non-Alphas. It's funny really. The carriers of "AB", don't WANT you to get it because then, well, let's be honest......you just might over bitch them. You might cause a revolt and take over their "AB" carrier position. Unheard of!!! But, when anyone spends any amount of time with a "AB" carrier, they can't help but get infected. I found myself starting to hate my life. Strange? I found myself feeling less than adequate at.......well, everything. A sure sign of "AB" syndrome. Ironically enough, I couldn't get enough "ABS" (Alpha Bitch Syndrome, for those of you who haven't figured it out yet......). Interesting? It was like I needed to be infected with more every single day. I didn't know who I was without a bit of that ABS running through my system. Scary.
Now, those of you who might be carriers of "ABS", I suppose the real question is this......do you even care? I would wager, not so much. This is the next thing that I've noticed: ABSC (Alpha Bitch Sydrome Carriers.....isn't this fun??) don't care who they infect. All they care about is the never ending supply of people, waiting in line to be infected. See, for whatever reason ABSC's seem to be irresistible to us non-ABSC's. We seek them out, every bit as much as they seek us out. A moth to the flame, perhaps? See non-ABSC's see the ABSC as strong and independent and we see ourselves as pathetic and wishy washy and weak. Now....hmmmm......let's stop an analyze this for a minute. Is any part of that feeling, true? You bet your sweet ass it is. ABSC's are confident. Overly so, usually. Non-ABSC's are wishy washy. We do FEEL pathetic because we're conditioned by, wait for it....ABSC's to believe that we ARE pathetic. And round and round we go, ladies!! Now, does the carrier care what carnage is left over after they've infected a non-ABSC and then moved on to their next victim? Doubtful.
The ABSC is so trained to just keep on, keepin' on, that they don't usually stop and recognize their own pattern. After all, the Alpha is an Alpha for a reason. Take no prisoners. Make no apologies, right? When was the last time you saw an Alpha Wolf feel badly for making the kill? Yeah, right?! I ask you though, is THAT how you want to be known? Is being so tough that you never get hurt really the answer? Is seeing people as disposable or, at a minimum easily replaced, a good thing? Don't you just want to drop that heavy load you're carrying? Wouldn't it be nice to just sit back and let someone truly, really, deeply openly know and love you? Without being afraid of how vulnerable that makes you? Without having to ruin that person, because they just might hurt you first or worse even, tell someone that you're flawed, too? Couldn't you see the ABSC as All the Bull Shit I'm Carrying? (Did you like that one???)
Now, I realize that this is a suggestion coming from the "weaker" Non-ABSC and that that in and of itself might turn you off to taking the advice, but, don't do it for me. Do it for yourself. Do it for your daughters. Let other women know that you can be cured of ABSC and move on. It's not too late.
Take a deep breath.......it's just another day in Perfect!!!
Illness: The Healthy Persons Guide
News flash: The medical community is incompetent. Doctors don't know everything. Hell, they barely know ANYTHING. God forbid, one day....you get sick. I mean, really sick. Mysteriously sick. Inexplicably sick. Where would you end up? Who can cure you? Or maybe better yet.....Who would believe you? As surprising at it might be to y'all; that is really the million dollar question.
Primarily, if you're a woman who happens to be of "child bearing age", slightly or significantly overweight and have ANY stress in your life, you can bet that if you have to go to the doctor for ANY reason, your diagnosis will be this-----"lose some weight and take this anti-depressant". Plain and simple. Yes, I did just save you thousands of dollars and tons of painful procedures. Not to mention the time and expense and EMBARRASSMENT of having to see a doctor in the first place. But, what did I really do to you? Did I listen to you? Did I demean you? Did I ignore you? Did I oversimplify your life? Your circumstance? Did I destroy a piece of you? Did I take away your last, best hope of getting well? Yes. Yes, I did.
Here's a bit of "my story". I woke up one day and felt 'off'. No more, no less. Just off. You know the feeling; a bit fatigued, a bit achy, a bit of this a bit of that. I thought that I was getting the flu or an upper respiratory infection, because I was having some trouble breathing. I took it a bit easy and did some chores, drank a cup of coffee, took a shower and then decided to eat some lunch and maybe take a nap. I remember it like it was yesterday......I had made a sandwich, sat down on the sofa and took a bite. When I tried to swallow, I couldn't. I couldn't get the bite down. Hm? I had a glass of water, so I took a big gulp and forced it down. Thinking it was just a 'dry throat', I took another bite. This one was even harder to get down. Odd. My throat wasn't sore, just..... 'swollen'. I called my husband to see if he could think of anything that I had done that would cause a swollen throat. When I tried to talk to him, speaking for the first time all day, I didn't recognize my own voice. I sounded like a hearing impaired person. I sounded like someone who had been born deaf and had learned to speak in spite of it. Crazy. Once my husband figured out that it really was me on the phone, I tried to explain what was happening. Bordering on impossible. Combine my "new" voice with the bizarre symptoms and I FELT crazy. I didn't need anyone to make that OBVIOUS assessment. This WAS crazy.
As each new day dawned, I got worse. I ended up being unable to get out of bed for more than a few hours at a time. Perfect for a stay at home mom. NOT! I started having more and more trouble breathing, walking, speaking, eating, holding my own urine and maintaining my body temperature. I would run high fevers for days and weeks on end, without relief from OTC medication. I would become so fatigued from just ordinary, basic things. I couldn't take my girls to the mall or the pool or the zoo. When I would force myself to do these things, I would "pay for it" for days to follow. My friends couldn't understand why I couldn't do all of the things that I had been able to do, just weeks prior. I had been placed on steroids, in an attempt to open up my airway. Perfect for a woman who's already heavy. But, I was willing to do anything. Take anything in order to feel better. I was tossed from one "ologist" to another with little regard for the emotional or financial implications.
I was diagnosed by the "best of the best" in "their field" with several life altering, and sometimes ending. conditions. I was treated for these diseases and usually had some level of improvement. Not ever 100%, but, I always felt a bit more normal. That is in every way but MENTALLY.
I had been drug through the mud by these "wonderful" doctors, along the way. I had lost friends on this journey, because they couldn't stand the diagnosis and MIS-diagnosis. I think that they thought that I was somehow lying to them when I told them "Today I have Condition A and then tomorrow it was "Well, now they think that it's Condition B." I'm not an idiot. I know how that must have sounded. However, make no mistake I WAS DIAGNOSED A LOT!!! At what point, was that EVER my fault? My doing? MY lie? Wasn't I being lied to? When did I ever WANT to be sick? Oh yeah....fucking never! Not one day of it. Yet, somehow, we blame the patient for the medical communities inability to come to a correct, if not a reasonably so, conclusion. Somewhere along the way, I became a villain. I became a freak. A pariah. Being forced to go from one specialist to another made me appear, to the medical world and to MY world, like I was desperately seeking attention. When, in fact, I just wanted to feel better.
Imagine if you can, not having one supporter in the world. All the while you're quite certain that you're slowly dying. You've never felt sicker; or been more alone. THAT is what happens to someone when they have a rare medical condition or worse.....several medical conditions. See, the medical world wants us all to believe that we all fit into these neat little categories and----if you're REALLY sick, well, by God they're GOING to find that illness and make it all go away. Total. Complete. Bullshit. I was utterly alone. Utterly sick. At my wits end. My "friends" were few and far between and even the ones who were there, talked badly about me behind my back. Throwing around accusations and nasty comments, like I would be none the wiser. Again, I'm not an idiot. I'm also quite sure that somewhere in "my permanent medical record" were terms like "hypochondriac" or "severely depressed", etc. How sabotaging is that? Once a doctor reads the previous doctors notes, they have little time or interest in making a "real" diagnosis. The patient is eternally screwed!!! I was an island. Persistently ignored and laughed at. Constantly, alone and isolated and really, truly sick. Terrifying.
I waited. Patiently and impatiently for someone, anyone to hear me. To see me. To acknowledge that something was wrong with me. Now, don't get me wrong, I had dozens of tests that showed abnormalities. I clearly had a heart condition. Not life threatening or surgical, so I was dismissed by the cardiologist. I clearly had brain lesions, but, not "enough" of them for the neurologists to diagnose me with MS. Even, though it runs in my family. I had several blood "anomalies"; too much of this hormone or chemical, not enough of another, crazy high level of "fighting" white blood cells. Again, nothing diagnostically "high" or "low" enough. Clearly a war was being fought inside of me, yet no one knew who was fighting or what they were fighting for!! Frustrating.
After years and thousands upon thousands of dollars, I gave up. Yep. I had lost everything. My friends, my self respect, my savings, the respect of anyone who knew me, my credibility with anyone with an M.D. after their name and eventually, I too, questioned my sanity. I prayed that I was just crazy. I had taken every anti-depressant known to man. No success. I just-----stopped. I just ceased the search. I didn't care anymore. I prayed for death. At least it would be over then. Horrible.
Months passed by and nothing changed. Then, the phone rang and my doctor of a decade was on the other end. He had noticed a result on one of my blood tests that could hold the key to it all. It was a simple (okay, NOT so simple) vitamin deficiency. He thought that if I started taking injections, that I might see some improvement. I jumped at the chance. I started injecting myself right away and within a few days, I noticed some improvement. I could swallow better. I could think more clearly. I wasn't as exhausted. And slowly but surely, I did improve. Now, some damage has already been done and I will never be 100% again, but, I did become more "myself" than I had been in several years. Life altering!
Once these "odd" symptoms were dealt with I was still left with other things, but, these things were more clear and easier to diagnose. I wasn't viewed as a crazy lady anymore. Funny. I'm still of "child bearing age, over weight and yes, even a woman", yet, I'm SEEN now. I'm no longer invisible. I am, however, several friends lighter. I am, however, more careful about whom I share my troubles with. I too, don't let the world tell me that there's "nothing wrong", when I know for damn sure that there is. Funny thing. Had this vitamin deficiency not been treated, I would have gotten my wish. I would have died. No more. No less. Hm? What's the moral of my story, you might ask..............
Be careful with yourself. Be careful with your friends and family. Listen to yourself. Listen (and believe) your friends. God forbid, one of those bitchy ex-freinds of mine, ever become "undiagnosably" (new word of the day.....well, it SHOULD be a word) ill. Who'll be there for them? Who'll be there for you?
Take a deep breath......it's just another day in Perfect!!!
Primarily, if you're a woman who happens to be of "child bearing age", slightly or significantly overweight and have ANY stress in your life, you can bet that if you have to go to the doctor for ANY reason, your diagnosis will be this-----"lose some weight and take this anti-depressant". Plain and simple. Yes, I did just save you thousands of dollars and tons of painful procedures. Not to mention the time and expense and EMBARRASSMENT of having to see a doctor in the first place. But, what did I really do to you? Did I listen to you? Did I demean you? Did I ignore you? Did I oversimplify your life? Your circumstance? Did I destroy a piece of you? Did I take away your last, best hope of getting well? Yes. Yes, I did.
Here's a bit of "my story". I woke up one day and felt 'off'. No more, no less. Just off. You know the feeling; a bit fatigued, a bit achy, a bit of this a bit of that. I thought that I was getting the flu or an upper respiratory infection, because I was having some trouble breathing. I took it a bit easy and did some chores, drank a cup of coffee, took a shower and then decided to eat some lunch and maybe take a nap. I remember it like it was yesterday......I had made a sandwich, sat down on the sofa and took a bite. When I tried to swallow, I couldn't. I couldn't get the bite down. Hm? I had a glass of water, so I took a big gulp and forced it down. Thinking it was just a 'dry throat', I took another bite. This one was even harder to get down. Odd. My throat wasn't sore, just..... 'swollen'. I called my husband to see if he could think of anything that I had done that would cause a swollen throat. When I tried to talk to him, speaking for the first time all day, I didn't recognize my own voice. I sounded like a hearing impaired person. I sounded like someone who had been born deaf and had learned to speak in spite of it. Crazy. Once my husband figured out that it really was me on the phone, I tried to explain what was happening. Bordering on impossible. Combine my "new" voice with the bizarre symptoms and I FELT crazy. I didn't need anyone to make that OBVIOUS assessment. This WAS crazy.
As each new day dawned, I got worse. I ended up being unable to get out of bed for more than a few hours at a time. Perfect for a stay at home mom. NOT! I started having more and more trouble breathing, walking, speaking, eating, holding my own urine and maintaining my body temperature. I would run high fevers for days and weeks on end, without relief from OTC medication. I would become so fatigued from just ordinary, basic things. I couldn't take my girls to the mall or the pool or the zoo. When I would force myself to do these things, I would "pay for it" for days to follow. My friends couldn't understand why I couldn't do all of the things that I had been able to do, just weeks prior. I had been placed on steroids, in an attempt to open up my airway. Perfect for a woman who's already heavy. But, I was willing to do anything. Take anything in order to feel better. I was tossed from one "ologist" to another with little regard for the emotional or financial implications.
I was diagnosed by the "best of the best" in "their field" with several life altering, and sometimes ending. conditions. I was treated for these diseases and usually had some level of improvement. Not ever 100%, but, I always felt a bit more normal. That is in every way but MENTALLY.
I had been drug through the mud by these "wonderful" doctors, along the way. I had lost friends on this journey, because they couldn't stand the diagnosis and MIS-diagnosis. I think that they thought that I was somehow lying to them when I told them "Today I have Condition A and then tomorrow it was "Well, now they think that it's Condition B." I'm not an idiot. I know how that must have sounded. However, make no mistake I WAS DIAGNOSED A LOT!!! At what point, was that EVER my fault? My doing? MY lie? Wasn't I being lied to? When did I ever WANT to be sick? Oh yeah....fucking never! Not one day of it. Yet, somehow, we blame the patient for the medical communities inability to come to a correct, if not a reasonably so, conclusion. Somewhere along the way, I became a villain. I became a freak. A pariah. Being forced to go from one specialist to another made me appear, to the medical world and to MY world, like I was desperately seeking attention. When, in fact, I just wanted to feel better.
Imagine if you can, not having one supporter in the world. All the while you're quite certain that you're slowly dying. You've never felt sicker; or been more alone. THAT is what happens to someone when they have a rare medical condition or worse.....several medical conditions. See, the medical world wants us all to believe that we all fit into these neat little categories and----if you're REALLY sick, well, by God they're GOING to find that illness and make it all go away. Total. Complete. Bullshit. I was utterly alone. Utterly sick. At my wits end. My "friends" were few and far between and even the ones who were there, talked badly about me behind my back. Throwing around accusations and nasty comments, like I would be none the wiser. Again, I'm not an idiot. I'm also quite sure that somewhere in "my permanent medical record" were terms like "hypochondriac" or "severely depressed", etc. How sabotaging is that? Once a doctor reads the previous doctors notes, they have little time or interest in making a "real" diagnosis. The patient is eternally screwed!!! I was an island. Persistently ignored and laughed at. Constantly, alone and isolated and really, truly sick. Terrifying.
I waited. Patiently and impatiently for someone, anyone to hear me. To see me. To acknowledge that something was wrong with me. Now, don't get me wrong, I had dozens of tests that showed abnormalities. I clearly had a heart condition. Not life threatening or surgical, so I was dismissed by the cardiologist. I clearly had brain lesions, but, not "enough" of them for the neurologists to diagnose me with MS. Even, though it runs in my family. I had several blood "anomalies"; too much of this hormone or chemical, not enough of another, crazy high level of "fighting" white blood cells. Again, nothing diagnostically "high" or "low" enough. Clearly a war was being fought inside of me, yet no one knew who was fighting or what they were fighting for!! Frustrating.
After years and thousands upon thousands of dollars, I gave up. Yep. I had lost everything. My friends, my self respect, my savings, the respect of anyone who knew me, my credibility with anyone with an M.D. after their name and eventually, I too, questioned my sanity. I prayed that I was just crazy. I had taken every anti-depressant known to man. No success. I just-----stopped. I just ceased the search. I didn't care anymore. I prayed for death. At least it would be over then. Horrible.
Months passed by and nothing changed. Then, the phone rang and my doctor of a decade was on the other end. He had noticed a result on one of my blood tests that could hold the key to it all. It was a simple (okay, NOT so simple) vitamin deficiency. He thought that if I started taking injections, that I might see some improvement. I jumped at the chance. I started injecting myself right away and within a few days, I noticed some improvement. I could swallow better. I could think more clearly. I wasn't as exhausted. And slowly but surely, I did improve. Now, some damage has already been done and I will never be 100% again, but, I did become more "myself" than I had been in several years. Life altering!
Once these "odd" symptoms were dealt with I was still left with other things, but, these things were more clear and easier to diagnose. I wasn't viewed as a crazy lady anymore. Funny. I'm still of "child bearing age, over weight and yes, even a woman", yet, I'm SEEN now. I'm no longer invisible. I am, however, several friends lighter. I am, however, more careful about whom I share my troubles with. I too, don't let the world tell me that there's "nothing wrong", when I know for damn sure that there is. Funny thing. Had this vitamin deficiency not been treated, I would have gotten my wish. I would have died. No more. No less. Hm? What's the moral of my story, you might ask..............
Be careful with yourself. Be careful with your friends and family. Listen to yourself. Listen (and believe) your friends. God forbid, one of those bitchy ex-freinds of mine, ever become "undiagnosably" (new word of the day.....well, it SHOULD be a word) ill. Who'll be there for them? Who'll be there for you?
Take a deep breath......it's just another day in Perfect!!!
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Untitled (POEM)
Gutted. Ripped open. Exposed. Nothing left to share or give. It's all been taken.
Silent. Inside myself. Introverted. Seems shocking to those who know me. I have nothing to add.
Confused. Self unaware. Hollow. Comfortably numb is working right now. A robot inside and out.
Raw. Invisible sores. Pained. Unable to find the source of the discomfort. Too sensitive to touch.
Invisible. Not acknowledged. A shadow on the wall. I won't bother you.
Silent. Inside myself. Introverted. Seems shocking to those who know me. I have nothing to add.
Confused. Self unaware. Hollow. Comfortably numb is working right now. A robot inside and out.
Raw. Invisible sores. Pained. Unable to find the source of the discomfort. Too sensitive to touch.
Invisible. Not acknowledged. A shadow on the wall. I won't bother you.
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Why does faith take so much.....faith?
I question. A lot. I pick peoples brains to the point of pain, I'm sure. I'm never happy with answers like "Because I said so." or "That's just the way it is." or "It just takes faith." The latter being the one that might bother me the most.
I've struggled with my beliefs over the years. Being turned off to one faith or the other by various people, places and events. I've been the ever wandering child, searching for something to cling to. I'd like to say that I find "religion" comforting. I believe with all my heart and soul that THAT is the main pull of religion. It's a comfort in painful, scary times. I mean, think about it....when do YOU pray? When someone's ill or hurt or suffering or dying or lost...the list goes on. When was the last time you prayed for someone or something because it was so well, healthy, perfect, wonderful, stable? We just don't do that. So this brings me full circle; I, personally don't find that just "having faith" that "it'll all work out in the end" very comforting.
I'm the first one to admit, I'm a control freak. I don't like handing over the reins, as it were. I've been taught, by my life experience, that the only person I can count on, day in and day out, is...well---me. If I need to have something done, I do it. If something needs to be taken care of for someone else, well, I do that, too. I'm in control of my own destiny. I have no one to blame or praise for how things are, then myself. No more. No less. I take the credit and the punishment for my own actions. I don't even WANT to be able to point the finger and be angry with an invisible being. I did it. I'm to blame. I'm flawed. Bad thing happen----not only to good people----but to ALL people. You can only control what you can control.
In that vein, I find it a challenge to wrap my head around an all powerful, all knowing, ultimately pure good being who gets all the credit for everything good and never the blame for anything bad. Now, I've been told that this is because of my limited human brain. I've been told that due to that limitation, I'm completely unable to imagine a "purely good" being. Perhaps. Isn't it just as likely that, shit happens? Isn't is just as likely that when a cancer "mysteriously" disappears, it could be because we don't know the first thing about cancer? We don't know where it comes from or why or how it "first" came to be? Maybe it's because our human brains are too limited to understand the very bodies that they occupy? God didn't take that cancer away anymore than he placed it there in the first place. You can not have only light and no darkness. The ying always chases the yang.
Now, I know what you're going to say..."Yes you can. Of course you can. That's God. He is goodness and light, embodied." Maybe. Perhaps, though, it goes back to that level of comfort that we all so desperately need. I don't want to think that when I die I just stop, anymore than you do. I don't like to think of my wonderful, warm, loving Papaw rotting away in the ground somewhere. I don't want to think that he's not watching over me, from some wonderful place. Happy. Whole. Perfect. But, if I were being truthful with myself, I just would have to say that that is a comforting thought for me. Merely, a way for my limited human brain to reject the pain of the loss. The death of another human being whom I loved more than myself. Honestly, if God really was only goodness and light, then why did he let my Papaw die at all? Why don't we, his most 'perfect creation', live forever?
Why does God allow the darkness to creep in? Why does he let babies be raped and murdered? Why does he let children get cancer at all? Why are people like Hitler allowed to be born? Again, I can read your mind......free will, right? WE humans are to blame for all the darkness and despair. Clearly. My understanding of "free will" means that God isn't forcing us to love him. A love without choice is no love at all. Nowhere does free will, as far as that bible's concerned, mean that we have to rape, murder and torture each other. It simply means that God wants us to love him because we want to. So, why couldn't he have chosen to make us all law abiding, clean, sober, happy, friendly people? We would still have the free will to chose to love him or not to love him. His decision to allow us to be ugly, dirty, pieces of shit people seems, well-----stupid. Flawed. Silly. Unnecessary.
Wouldn't the world have been a much better place if crime didn't exist? Why didn't this amazingly perfect creature, who made us "in his own imagine", make us bit more.....ummmm....."LIKE" him? Why can't we have a bit more "good" in us and bit less "darkness"? Why is "human nature" so flawed? So nasty? So tainted? We spend so much time and energy suppressing our "natural instincts" that life is a constant struggle. Is that the point; the journey being more important than the destination? Possibly. Doesn't God have THAT power? Why didn't he love us enough to help make that journey a little smoother? A bit less difficult?
Again, I can predict your response---"He did make it easier for us. He gave us faith." Hm.....yeah, well, you can see the cat chasing it's tail now, can't you?
Take a deep breath.........it's just another day in Perfect!
I've struggled with my beliefs over the years. Being turned off to one faith or the other by various people, places and events. I've been the ever wandering child, searching for something to cling to. I'd like to say that I find "religion" comforting. I believe with all my heart and soul that THAT is the main pull of religion. It's a comfort in painful, scary times. I mean, think about it....when do YOU pray? When someone's ill or hurt or suffering or dying or lost...the list goes on. When was the last time you prayed for someone or something because it was so well, healthy, perfect, wonderful, stable? We just don't do that. So this brings me full circle; I, personally don't find that just "having faith" that "it'll all work out in the end" very comforting.
I'm the first one to admit, I'm a control freak. I don't like handing over the reins, as it were. I've been taught, by my life experience, that the only person I can count on, day in and day out, is...well---me. If I need to have something done, I do it. If something needs to be taken care of for someone else, well, I do that, too. I'm in control of my own destiny. I have no one to blame or praise for how things are, then myself. No more. No less. I take the credit and the punishment for my own actions. I don't even WANT to be able to point the finger and be angry with an invisible being. I did it. I'm to blame. I'm flawed. Bad thing happen----not only to good people----but to ALL people. You can only control what you can control.
In that vein, I find it a challenge to wrap my head around an all powerful, all knowing, ultimately pure good being who gets all the credit for everything good and never the blame for anything bad. Now, I've been told that this is because of my limited human brain. I've been told that due to that limitation, I'm completely unable to imagine a "purely good" being. Perhaps. Isn't it just as likely that, shit happens? Isn't is just as likely that when a cancer "mysteriously" disappears, it could be because we don't know the first thing about cancer? We don't know where it comes from or why or how it "first" came to be? Maybe it's because our human brains are too limited to understand the very bodies that they occupy? God didn't take that cancer away anymore than he placed it there in the first place. You can not have only light and no darkness. The ying always chases the yang.
Now, I know what you're going to say..."Yes you can. Of course you can. That's God. He is goodness and light, embodied." Maybe. Perhaps, though, it goes back to that level of comfort that we all so desperately need. I don't want to think that when I die I just stop, anymore than you do. I don't like to think of my wonderful, warm, loving Papaw rotting away in the ground somewhere. I don't want to think that he's not watching over me, from some wonderful place. Happy. Whole. Perfect. But, if I were being truthful with myself, I just would have to say that that is a comforting thought for me. Merely, a way for my limited human brain to reject the pain of the loss. The death of another human being whom I loved more than myself. Honestly, if God really was only goodness and light, then why did he let my Papaw die at all? Why don't we, his most 'perfect creation', live forever?
Why does God allow the darkness to creep in? Why does he let babies be raped and murdered? Why does he let children get cancer at all? Why are people like Hitler allowed to be born? Again, I can read your mind......free will, right? WE humans are to blame for all the darkness and despair. Clearly. My understanding of "free will" means that God isn't forcing us to love him. A love without choice is no love at all. Nowhere does free will, as far as that bible's concerned, mean that we have to rape, murder and torture each other. It simply means that God wants us to love him because we want to. So, why couldn't he have chosen to make us all law abiding, clean, sober, happy, friendly people? We would still have the free will to chose to love him or not to love him. His decision to allow us to be ugly, dirty, pieces of shit people seems, well-----stupid. Flawed. Silly. Unnecessary.
Wouldn't the world have been a much better place if crime didn't exist? Why didn't this amazingly perfect creature, who made us "in his own imagine", make us bit more.....ummmm....."LIKE" him? Why can't we have a bit more "good" in us and bit less "darkness"? Why is "human nature" so flawed? So nasty? So tainted? We spend so much time and energy suppressing our "natural instincts" that life is a constant struggle. Is that the point; the journey being more important than the destination? Possibly. Doesn't God have THAT power? Why didn't he love us enough to help make that journey a little smoother? A bit less difficult?
Again, I can predict your response---"He did make it easier for us. He gave us faith." Hm.....yeah, well, you can see the cat chasing it's tail now, can't you?
Take a deep breath.........it's just another day in Perfect!
I Have Loved....(POEM)
I have loved lightly,
Effervescent bubbles in a glass of champagne,
floating lightly, colliding and bouncing back.
I have loved violently,
Harsh words, harder fists, painful, tragic, passionate hatred filled days and nights,
never ending blurs of torture and self loathing.
I have loved deeply,
Traveling down through an abyss; falling head over heels and back again,
deeper and deeper until I lost myself.
I have loved honestly,
Showing my true transparent self so genuinely, open, alive, free to fly, stepping off, praying that I never touch down,
painfully aware of my vulnerability and not protective of myself at all.
I have loved selfishly,
Only taking what I could get, ever wanting more, an addict in true form.
Getting my fix, enough is never enough.
I have loved unilaterally,
Never feeling it back, constantly seeking that which will never be found.
Abandoned and alone; cold drizzly forest at night, ever searching the depths of darkness.
I have loved..........
and I'm all the better for it.
Effervescent bubbles in a glass of champagne,
floating lightly, colliding and bouncing back.
I have loved violently,
Harsh words, harder fists, painful, tragic, passionate hatred filled days and nights,
never ending blurs of torture and self loathing.
I have loved deeply,
Traveling down through an abyss; falling head over heels and back again,
deeper and deeper until I lost myself.
I have loved honestly,
Showing my true transparent self so genuinely, open, alive, free to fly, stepping off, praying that I never touch down,
painfully aware of my vulnerability and not protective of myself at all.
I have loved selfishly,
Only taking what I could get, ever wanting more, an addict in true form.
Getting my fix, enough is never enough.
I have loved unilaterally,
Never feeling it back, constantly seeking that which will never be found.
Abandoned and alone; cold drizzly forest at night, ever searching the depths of darkness.
I have loved..........
and I'm all the better for it.
Saturday, October 16, 2010
It's all right (POEM)
It's right to walk away from you,
turn my back and save myself.
It's right to never look back at you,
to never have looked at you at all.
It's right to tell myself that I'm over it,
moving onward, straight and true.
It's right to say that I love you enough to let you go,
knowing full well, it's a lie.
It's right to never have loved you at all,
deny myself the pleasure.
It's right to punish myself for feelings,
so clearly out of my control.
It's right to pretend that nothing ever happened,
cold and hard's the only way to survive.
It's all right..........
and I'm wrong.
turn my back and save myself.
It's right to never look back at you,
to never have looked at you at all.
It's right to tell myself that I'm over it,
moving onward, straight and true.
It's right to say that I love you enough to let you go,
knowing full well, it's a lie.
It's right to never have loved you at all,
deny myself the pleasure.
It's right to punish myself for feelings,
so clearly out of my control.
It's right to pretend that nothing ever happened,
cold and hard's the only way to survive.
It's all right..........
and I'm wrong.
Stop drinking the purple Kool-Aid
Toxic relationships. We've all had them. I've spent the last year of my life detoxifying. I've severed relationships that didn't work for me. I cut the ties with people who were hurting me or unhealthy for me. I can say, today, that it's been the most healthy thing I've ever done for myself. However, one year ago, I was a hot mess, to say the least.
It isn't like I just woke up one day and was like "Gee, I think that I'll just cut everyone that's mean to me out of my life. Can you pass the salt?" Um. Yeah. No. It was something I agonized over. Turned over and over in my head; so many times that I didn't know which way was up. I tend to over analyze things and even worry more about how things will effect other people, than how they're going to effect me. In this vein, I allow people to stay a part of my life, long after they should have been sent packing. Long after, most people would have removed them from their lives.
Forgiving has always come naturally to me. I can forgive the unforgivable. I used to think that this was a good quality in myself. A strength. Hell, I was proud of it. I've come to realize that this is a defense mechanism, I have. See, if I "forgive" you then it's all over and done with and I don't have to hold you accountable for your behavior. Easy. Self-destructive, much? I also hate confrontation. Again, once something is "forgiven", I don't need to step up and make some noise about how shitty you are. Weak, much? God knows, if I make waves, you'll probably end up leaving me. Insecure, much? It's always been better, easier even, for me to be treated like crap and have people in my life, then to "detoxify" and risk being alone. Scared, much?
So, it was a gradual process, I suppose. A slow wearing away of my hard protective shell of forgiveness. People pushing the limits of my mental well being to the point of fracture. Even my easy going personality was unable to 'keep up' with the disparaging remarks, the side ways glances, the slow but sure tearing of my essence. Being willing to forgive, yet never forgiven, takes it toll. I felt as though I was held to a "higher standard" than people even held themselves to. Can I hear-- "hypocrisy"!! After years of feeling the pain of it all, I began to dissolve. I began to truly lose myself in the process. I forgot who I was. What I believed. What I even felt about certain ideas or people. I had spent so much energy trying to please everyone else, just to justify why they should spend any time with me, that I had nothing left for the people who really mattered. I couldn't even tell the difference anymore, truth be told; of those that loved me and those that loved to hate me. The jealous ones from the kind hearted souls. I was lost. Confused and, I'm sure it seemed, confusing.
Although, I suppose it really did end up looking, to everyone involved, that I did just wake up one day and decide to kick your sorry ass to the curb. I mean, come on; I've never said one word about being unhappy as your friend or told you, Mom that you've hurt, disappointed and neglected me to the point of sheer absurdity. I can imagine that it was a shock to those of you who I've "walked away from" to realize that I actually had a back bone or even a limit. I can only hope that those people who have left my life will someday realize that people are not disposable. We're not easily replaced. We each have value. Shocking. I truly thought long and hard before I made the, seemingly rash, decision to move on without you. Yet, I still look over my shoulder and wonder......did I do the right thing? Did I make the right choice?
A wise woman told me today (you know who you are...) that I was giving my power away. She's absolutely right. That is definitely my part in all of this. I never should have allowed anyone to think that I didn't have value. I should have spoken up that first day that you put me down, left me out (on purpose), stabbed me in the back, ignored and abandoned me. Hard. Bordering on impossible for me. Especially, when friends are hard to come by and Moms, well, you only get one of those in this lifetime. I finally had to realize that scarcity of resources was not a good enough reason to allow myself to be slowly poisoned. Look at it like this, I was drinking the arsenic slowly, but, still--- I was drinking fucking ARSENIC people. Asinine.
I look back now and I see, with much more clarity, that I was brain washed in a sense. I had been conditioned to believe that I didn't deserve anything better. I really thought that I had no choice. I didn't know any other way. I mean, I only have one Mother and my BFF, well it doesn't mean BEST friends for nothing!!! It had value. Relationships matter. People matter; even toxic people. It isn't easy to be alone. Even when it means being a healthier, all around better, person. Liberating.
But---how do I KNOW that I made the right decision? Is it still the RIGHT decision, even if I made it after the damage had already been done? I mean, I'm still a person who's been being poisoned for decades. I won't lie to you and say that it hasn't taken it toll. That I haven't paid a price for my fear of being alone. I'm terrified of making new friends. Of letting anyone new in. I have trust issues to the ETREME!!! It isn't easy having the woman who carried you in her body for nine months on your "do not call" list. Painful doesn't cover it. Or does it? Is the pain in itself the entirety of the experience? Is that all I had to endure? To learn? I think not. I think that THIS is how I know that I made the right decision. How I KNOW that things are how they should be (and should have been for years)......I don't feel the pain any more. I don't live there; in a place of self inflicted suffering. I don't walk around as a bundle of nerves. I don't shake like I did before. I don't fear saying or doing something that will be misinterpreted. I don't have to bite my tongue until it bleeds because I have to hear, yet again, what a great fucking Mother you must have been, because "Look at how good you turned out, Bec." Enraging. I'm free. One hundred percent free. Maybe, for the first time in my life.
So, was it okay to let go? You bet your sweet ass it was. It was amazing!!
Take a deep breath...........it's just another day in Perfect!!!!
It isn't like I just woke up one day and was like "Gee, I think that I'll just cut everyone that's mean to me out of my life. Can you pass the salt?" Um. Yeah. No. It was something I agonized over. Turned over and over in my head; so many times that I didn't know which way was up. I tend to over analyze things and even worry more about how things will effect other people, than how they're going to effect me. In this vein, I allow people to stay a part of my life, long after they should have been sent packing. Long after, most people would have removed them from their lives.
Forgiving has always come naturally to me. I can forgive the unforgivable. I used to think that this was a good quality in myself. A strength. Hell, I was proud of it. I've come to realize that this is a defense mechanism, I have. See, if I "forgive" you then it's all over and done with and I don't have to hold you accountable for your behavior. Easy. Self-destructive, much? I also hate confrontation. Again, once something is "forgiven", I don't need to step up and make some noise about how shitty you are. Weak, much? God knows, if I make waves, you'll probably end up leaving me. Insecure, much? It's always been better, easier even, for me to be treated like crap and have people in my life, then to "detoxify" and risk being alone. Scared, much?
So, it was a gradual process, I suppose. A slow wearing away of my hard protective shell of forgiveness. People pushing the limits of my mental well being to the point of fracture. Even my easy going personality was unable to 'keep up' with the disparaging remarks, the side ways glances, the slow but sure tearing of my essence. Being willing to forgive, yet never forgiven, takes it toll. I felt as though I was held to a "higher standard" than people even held themselves to. Can I hear-- "hypocrisy"!! After years of feeling the pain of it all, I began to dissolve. I began to truly lose myself in the process. I forgot who I was. What I believed. What I even felt about certain ideas or people. I had spent so much energy trying to please everyone else, just to justify why they should spend any time with me, that I had nothing left for the people who really mattered. I couldn't even tell the difference anymore, truth be told; of those that loved me and those that loved to hate me. The jealous ones from the kind hearted souls. I was lost. Confused and, I'm sure it seemed, confusing.
Although, I suppose it really did end up looking, to everyone involved, that I did just wake up one day and decide to kick your sorry ass to the curb. I mean, come on; I've never said one word about being unhappy as your friend or told you, Mom that you've hurt, disappointed and neglected me to the point of sheer absurdity. I can imagine that it was a shock to those of you who I've "walked away from" to realize that I actually had a back bone or even a limit. I can only hope that those people who have left my life will someday realize that people are not disposable. We're not easily replaced. We each have value. Shocking. I truly thought long and hard before I made the, seemingly rash, decision to move on without you. Yet, I still look over my shoulder and wonder......did I do the right thing? Did I make the right choice?
A wise woman told me today (you know who you are...) that I was giving my power away. She's absolutely right. That is definitely my part in all of this. I never should have allowed anyone to think that I didn't have value. I should have spoken up that first day that you put me down, left me out (on purpose), stabbed me in the back, ignored and abandoned me. Hard. Bordering on impossible for me. Especially, when friends are hard to come by and Moms, well, you only get one of those in this lifetime. I finally had to realize that scarcity of resources was not a good enough reason to allow myself to be slowly poisoned. Look at it like this, I was drinking the arsenic slowly, but, still--- I was drinking fucking ARSENIC people. Asinine.
I look back now and I see, with much more clarity, that I was brain washed in a sense. I had been conditioned to believe that I didn't deserve anything better. I really thought that I had no choice. I didn't know any other way. I mean, I only have one Mother and my BFF, well it doesn't mean BEST friends for nothing!!! It had value. Relationships matter. People matter; even toxic people. It isn't easy to be alone. Even when it means being a healthier, all around better, person. Liberating.
But---how do I KNOW that I made the right decision? Is it still the RIGHT decision, even if I made it after the damage had already been done? I mean, I'm still a person who's been being poisoned for decades. I won't lie to you and say that it hasn't taken it toll. That I haven't paid a price for my fear of being alone. I'm terrified of making new friends. Of letting anyone new in. I have trust issues to the ETREME!!! It isn't easy having the woman who carried you in her body for nine months on your "do not call" list. Painful doesn't cover it. Or does it? Is the pain in itself the entirety of the experience? Is that all I had to endure? To learn? I think not. I think that THIS is how I know that I made the right decision. How I KNOW that things are how they should be (and should have been for years)......I don't feel the pain any more. I don't live there; in a place of self inflicted suffering. I don't walk around as a bundle of nerves. I don't shake like I did before. I don't fear saying or doing something that will be misinterpreted. I don't have to bite my tongue until it bleeds because I have to hear, yet again, what a great fucking Mother you must have been, because "Look at how good you turned out, Bec." Enraging. I'm free. One hundred percent free. Maybe, for the first time in my life.
So, was it okay to let go? You bet your sweet ass it was. It was amazing!!
Take a deep breath...........it's just another day in Perfect!!!!
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Knowing when to speak up and when to....well....you know......
Do you know when to speak up and when to keep your mouth closed? Now, I know what you're probably thinking. "Of course, I do!". Chances are; you're wrong. I mean, let's think about it for just a minute or two. If everyone really did know when to speak up and when to be quiet, then why are so many of us unhappy? I ask you, do you think that you'd feel better if you really knew the moments to stand up for yourself? The moments in which, you're truly being trod upon. The moments when, even by mistake, someone has hurt your feelings or crossed your invisible line? How many times have you hurt someone, and then indirectly yourself, by talking out of turn? Oh, how many, many times I wish that I would have just kept my damn mouth shut! Zillions, at least.
So, no. I say. Hell, no. People really don't KNOW when to do either one of these things. For comparison sake, let's use driving as an example. Now, come on.....you know that you sit in your car in traffic and, at a minimum, think to yourself 'Why doesn't ANYONE know how to drive?". Same concept. EVERYONE thinks this. Thus, everyone THINKS that THEY can drive, but, alas, no one else can. If everyone could only drive as well as I do, the world we be a more perfect place! Right? Again, you see the point. If everyone thinks this, then how can everyone also be bad drivers? Bling. (That's the little light bulb over your head lighting up.) Now, we're cooking with gas.
You can see the problem. Everyone thinks that they have tact. (Well, okay, not EVERYONE. My husband for example is well of aware he has NO tact. He doesn't fake it. He doesn't even try to pretend that he does. He is, I believe, the exception.) I find that having tact is kind of like driving. Everyone thinks that their way is the best way. I also find that standing up for oneself, falls into this same category. There are right ways and there are wrong ways, to get your point across and ensure that you're not being treated like crap. Again, I find that the people who REALLY speak their mind are equivalent to those aggressive drivers. You know the ones. The guy who changes lanes 15 times in a 1/4 mile and goes 82 miles an hour between stop lights and then flips you off when need to get over to turn left. Tact would be his brake pedal and he hasn't seen or felt that puppy in years!!
Now here are the million dollar questions: 1) how do you know if you're driving like a wild woman with your hair on fire and 2) how do you find your brake pedal if you are? Who's going to tell you to "slow down"? Take a look at the scenery? Enjoy the drive?
I wish that learning how to say the right thing at the tight time, was as easy as learning to drive. I wish that there was some wonderful instruction book that would just tell everyone how to act. Unfortunately, there's not. Unfortunately, we leave the decision making process to each individual. This is why there are so many accidents, each and every day. This is why you're insurance rates are so high. Hell, this could be why you've lost your license in the past. We all make bad decisions!! We drive too fast. (Speak before we think.) We ignore the inconvenient stop sign. (Don't "notice" peoples subtle cues that we've gone too far.) We don't use a turn signal when we switch lanes. Isn't this road ALL MINE? (Selfishness is rampant.)
All I can suggest is this. Drive slowly. (THINK before you say something. Especially if it's something that might hurt someone else.) Always share the road. (It's NOT all about you!) Stop a full, three seconds prior to pulling into the intersection. (Pay attention to what folks around you are saying to you. Whether directly or with their body language.)
Take a deep breath......I'm watching out for bad drivers in Perfect.
So, no. I say. Hell, no. People really don't KNOW when to do either one of these things. For comparison sake, let's use driving as an example. Now, come on.....you know that you sit in your car in traffic and, at a minimum, think to yourself 'Why doesn't ANYONE know how to drive?". Same concept. EVERYONE thinks this. Thus, everyone THINKS that THEY can drive, but, alas, no one else can. If everyone could only drive as well as I do, the world we be a more perfect place! Right? Again, you see the point. If everyone thinks this, then how can everyone also be bad drivers? Bling. (That's the little light bulb over your head lighting up.) Now, we're cooking with gas.
You can see the problem. Everyone thinks that they have tact. (Well, okay, not EVERYONE. My husband for example is well of aware he has NO tact. He doesn't fake it. He doesn't even try to pretend that he does. He is, I believe, the exception.) I find that having tact is kind of like driving. Everyone thinks that their way is the best way. I also find that standing up for oneself, falls into this same category. There are right ways and there are wrong ways, to get your point across and ensure that you're not being treated like crap. Again, I find that the people who REALLY speak their mind are equivalent to those aggressive drivers. You know the ones. The guy who changes lanes 15 times in a 1/4 mile and goes 82 miles an hour between stop lights and then flips you off when need to get over to turn left. Tact would be his brake pedal and he hasn't seen or felt that puppy in years!!
Now here are the million dollar questions: 1) how do you know if you're driving like a wild woman with your hair on fire and 2) how do you find your brake pedal if you are? Who's going to tell you to "slow down"? Take a look at the scenery? Enjoy the drive?
I wish that learning how to say the right thing at the tight time, was as easy as learning to drive. I wish that there was some wonderful instruction book that would just tell everyone how to act. Unfortunately, there's not. Unfortunately, we leave the decision making process to each individual. This is why there are so many accidents, each and every day. This is why you're insurance rates are so high. Hell, this could be why you've lost your license in the past. We all make bad decisions!! We drive too fast. (Speak before we think.) We ignore the inconvenient stop sign. (Don't "notice" peoples subtle cues that we've gone too far.) We don't use a turn signal when we switch lanes. Isn't this road ALL MINE? (Selfishness is rampant.)
All I can suggest is this. Drive slowly. (THINK before you say something. Especially if it's something that might hurt someone else.) Always share the road. (It's NOT all about you!) Stop a full, three seconds prior to pulling into the intersection. (Pay attention to what folks around you are saying to you. Whether directly or with their body language.)
Take a deep breath......I'm watching out for bad drivers in Perfect.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Look out!!! It's a trap!!!
So, I was reminiscing today. You know how that goes; sometimes it's good and sometimes....well. Not so much. I'd like to say that my past is all sweetness and light. Perfection and glory days. "The best time of my life" and all that crap. Uh-huh. NOT!
One of the things that I have really noticed during my "retrospection", is this---females seem to have a hard time in a threesome. Now, before you click the little "X" in the upper right hand corner and move on, let me be clear here. Girls have a hard time having two BFF's at a time. It's not really too bad if there are four or five girls that all hang out. It's usually pretty good when you just have "each other" to lean on. Throw just one more lady in the mix and, unfortunately, drama ensues.
I can track this back to my middle school days even. I had a wonderful friend and she had another wonderful friend. It seemed logical that if I'm friends with Jenny, I should be able to be friends with Bethany. Seems an easy enough concept. If I like you and you like her then, logically, she and I should like each other, too. Right? WRONG!!! Well, not really wrong........just different! (I threw that in for my Love and Respect folks!!)
On the surface, I was able to be friends with Jenny and Bethany all through seventh and eighth grade. It wasn't until years later, that Jenny reminded me of a event that happened during our eighth grade year. Shocking. And here I thought that we all loved and trusted each other!
One day when we were out of school (I can't recall if it was just a day off or over a longer break, i.e. summer or spring break) and I was at home, taking care of my sisters and the house, like I always did. Knock, knock, knock on the door. I go to see who it is and am shocked to find Bethany's boyfriend, Elijah. Hm? Now, at that moment, a huge red flag should have been raised over my head. Hell, a flashing neon sign should have gone off. It didn't. Call it naiveté. Call me a schmuck. Whichever.
I was shocked yet happy to see him. I had NO EARTHLY NOTION why he'd be at my house. I invited him in and wasn't really sure what in the world we were going to do now. Well, I didn't have long to wait. About three minutes after Elijah appeared at my door, I hear yet another 'knock, knock, knock'. Before I can even head to the door, I'm told "Oh no! What if it's Bethany?" Um....SO??? He then instructs me to "lie". 'If it IS her', he tells me, 'you can't tell her that I'm here.' Um...WHY??
So, here I go.....headed to the front door. No thought in my mind that it could even BE Bethany. I mean, come on, what are the odds that two random people, who've never been to my house before would show up within three minutes of each other? Apparently, pretty damn good!! Lo and behold, I open the door and find, not only, Bethany, but Jenny, too! Isn't it my lucky fucking day??!!??? I now have all of my best friends over for a visit. WOO-HOO! Score. I couldn't be happier. Bliss.
Before I even open the screen door to let the duo in, I say "You'll never guess who's here?" Insert a big fat DUH, here. She 'looks' confused and innocent. "Who?" Bethany says. "Elijah!" I exclaim. Funny thing was, her face dropped, instead of lifted. Confusing. I couldn't imagine why she would look that way. Although, with how often she and Elijah fought, I thought that, perhaps they were on the "outs", yet again.
In the pair walk and I go to find Elijah who, at this point, was "hiding" in my kitchen. Perplexing. he comes out of the kitchen. Says an awkward "hello" to the two girls and we proceed to stand around for all of 2 minutes, stare at each other and then, suddenly, everyone has to leave. Odd. I beg them all to stay. I mean, they're all my besties, right? Shouldn't we all take advantage of this wonderful coincidence and just 'hang'? Can I get a resounding---How dense are you woman??? Much to my chagrin the three of them head out the door as quickly as they headed into it.
I remember thinking how odd this whole event was, but, understood that they had "walked a long way from Jenny's house" and that they "had to get back" before her Father got angry. Believable. Fast forward to my senior year of high school. Jenny and I are confessing things to each other. You know, ladies, as you do.....and she confesses that she and Bethany were trying to trap me. Gasp!
Bethany believed that I wanted her boyfriend. (Can I get a --- HELL NO!!??) She came up with an "ingenious" way to "prove" her suspicion. Let's set up our friend and catch her in a lie. I can imagine how frustrated she must have been when I, didn't PLAY ALONG.
Now, the point of this is so multilayered, I'm not even sure that I can do it justice. First and possibly foremost is this--- why does it seem that women always do this too each other? Why oh why can't we all just get along? Naive. Perhaps. I've had this same experience (well, okay not this EXACT same experience, but you know what I mean.) played out over and over again. Always, when there are three women involved. There always seems to be a 'ring leader'. Someone who always wants to drive a wedge between girl 2 and 3 or 3 and 1 or 1 and 2 or....oh you get it. It's always a hot mess. I've never been lied about or to, more than when it was another woman's friendship, perceived to be, on the line. I don't even think woman would stoop so low to keep a man. Come between them and their friend and watch out. Here come the claws ---- knives, if you're not careful!
There are few places that I've experienced this more than in Perfect. Perfect ladies have brought a whole new definition to "back stabbing" and "conniving". To be fair, I have met SEVERAL amazing Perfect women. I love them dearly. I wouldn't trade them for 4 wonderful husbands. Fantastic. However, I've never felt so betrayed or hurt as I have by these women.
Now, here comes the juicy center people: I wouldn't have it any other way. I'm thankful for these crazy bitches. I'm glad that they stabbed me in the back, or the front, for that matter. I'm honestly thrilled. I would never have known who my real friends were. I would never have been able to spot a crazy bitch at thirty paces, like I can now, if it wasn't for these "Perfect" crazy bitches. They, truly were, perfect. Perfect for me. The perfect examples of what a friend isn't. I learned some amazingly important lessons. Enlightening.
So, the next time, you get that little tingle or tickle in the back of your brain; telling you something is WRONG with this scenario, IT PROBABLY IS!!! Listen to your inner voice people. It rarely lies.
Take a deep breath.......it's just another day in Perfect!!
One of the things that I have really noticed during my "retrospection", is this---females seem to have a hard time in a threesome. Now, before you click the little "X" in the upper right hand corner and move on, let me be clear here. Girls have a hard time having two BFF's at a time. It's not really too bad if there are four or five girls that all hang out. It's usually pretty good when you just have "each other" to lean on. Throw just one more lady in the mix and, unfortunately, drama ensues.
I can track this back to my middle school days even. I had a wonderful friend and she had another wonderful friend. It seemed logical that if I'm friends with Jenny, I should be able to be friends with Bethany. Seems an easy enough concept. If I like you and you like her then, logically, she and I should like each other, too. Right? WRONG!!! Well, not really wrong........just different! (I threw that in for my Love and Respect folks!!)
On the surface, I was able to be friends with Jenny and Bethany all through seventh and eighth grade. It wasn't until years later, that Jenny reminded me of a event that happened during our eighth grade year. Shocking. And here I thought that we all loved and trusted each other!
One day when we were out of school (I can't recall if it was just a day off or over a longer break, i.e. summer or spring break) and I was at home, taking care of my sisters and the house, like I always did. Knock, knock, knock on the door. I go to see who it is and am shocked to find Bethany's boyfriend, Elijah. Hm? Now, at that moment, a huge red flag should have been raised over my head. Hell, a flashing neon sign should have gone off. It didn't. Call it naiveté. Call me a schmuck. Whichever.
I was shocked yet happy to see him. I had NO EARTHLY NOTION why he'd be at my house. I invited him in and wasn't really sure what in the world we were going to do now. Well, I didn't have long to wait. About three minutes after Elijah appeared at my door, I hear yet another 'knock, knock, knock'. Before I can even head to the door, I'm told "Oh no! What if it's Bethany?" Um....SO??? He then instructs me to "lie". 'If it IS her', he tells me, 'you can't tell her that I'm here.' Um...WHY??
So, here I go.....headed to the front door. No thought in my mind that it could even BE Bethany. I mean, come on, what are the odds that two random people, who've never been to my house before would show up within three minutes of each other? Apparently, pretty damn good!! Lo and behold, I open the door and find, not only, Bethany, but Jenny, too! Isn't it my lucky fucking day??!!??? I now have all of my best friends over for a visit. WOO-HOO! Score. I couldn't be happier. Bliss.
Before I even open the screen door to let the duo in, I say "You'll never guess who's here?" Insert a big fat DUH, here. She 'looks' confused and innocent. "Who?" Bethany says. "Elijah!" I exclaim. Funny thing was, her face dropped, instead of lifted. Confusing. I couldn't imagine why she would look that way. Although, with how often she and Elijah fought, I thought that, perhaps they were on the "outs", yet again.
In the pair walk and I go to find Elijah who, at this point, was "hiding" in my kitchen. Perplexing. he comes out of the kitchen. Says an awkward "hello" to the two girls and we proceed to stand around for all of 2 minutes, stare at each other and then, suddenly, everyone has to leave. Odd. I beg them all to stay. I mean, they're all my besties, right? Shouldn't we all take advantage of this wonderful coincidence and just 'hang'? Can I get a resounding---How dense are you woman??? Much to my chagrin the three of them head out the door as quickly as they headed into it.
I remember thinking how odd this whole event was, but, understood that they had "walked a long way from Jenny's house" and that they "had to get back" before her Father got angry. Believable. Fast forward to my senior year of high school. Jenny and I are confessing things to each other. You know, ladies, as you do.....and she confesses that she and Bethany were trying to trap me. Gasp!
Bethany believed that I wanted her boyfriend. (Can I get a --- HELL NO!!??) She came up with an "ingenious" way to "prove" her suspicion. Let's set up our friend and catch her in a lie. I can imagine how frustrated she must have been when I, didn't PLAY ALONG.
Now, the point of this is so multilayered, I'm not even sure that I can do it justice. First and possibly foremost is this--- why does it seem that women always do this too each other? Why oh why can't we all just get along? Naive. Perhaps. I've had this same experience (well, okay not this EXACT same experience, but you know what I mean.) played out over and over again. Always, when there are three women involved. There always seems to be a 'ring leader'. Someone who always wants to drive a wedge between girl 2 and 3 or 3 and 1 or 1 and 2 or....oh you get it. It's always a hot mess. I've never been lied about or to, more than when it was another woman's friendship, perceived to be, on the line. I don't even think woman would stoop so low to keep a man. Come between them and their friend and watch out. Here come the claws ---- knives, if you're not careful!
There are few places that I've experienced this more than in Perfect. Perfect ladies have brought a whole new definition to "back stabbing" and "conniving". To be fair, I have met SEVERAL amazing Perfect women. I love them dearly. I wouldn't trade them for 4 wonderful husbands. Fantastic. However, I've never felt so betrayed or hurt as I have by these women.
Now, here comes the juicy center people: I wouldn't have it any other way. I'm thankful for these crazy bitches. I'm glad that they stabbed me in the back, or the front, for that matter. I'm honestly thrilled. I would never have known who my real friends were. I would never have been able to spot a crazy bitch at thirty paces, like I can now, if it wasn't for these "Perfect" crazy bitches. They, truly were, perfect. Perfect for me. The perfect examples of what a friend isn't. I learned some amazingly important lessons. Enlightening.
So, the next time, you get that little tingle or tickle in the back of your brain; telling you something is WRONG with this scenario, IT PROBABLY IS!!! Listen to your inner voice people. It rarely lies.
Take a deep breath.......it's just another day in Perfect!!
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
What makes a woman..........
Is it the hormones that make me a woman? Maybe. Is it that I'm soft and round (too round!) and that I smell good. Hm. I don't know? Is a woman made by her breasts or her ovaries or uterus? I'd like to say no, to these....but....possibly.
What makes me a woman?
I had a complete hysterectomy not long after Savannah was born. I would by lying if I said that after this surgery I didn't feel "less" womanly. I felt empty somehow. Hollow. The interesting idea is....the mere fact that I FELT so much, from simply having a surgery, may, in fact, be the strongest indicator that I AM a woman.
Now men, don't misunderstand me. I'm not saying that y'all don't "FEEL" anything. Absurd. Perhaps, more of what I'm saying is that I acknowledge my own absurdity. I fully "out myself" to being an overly touchy feely creature. I wouldn't have it any other way.
I like being a woman. Even if I can't really wrap my arms around what "makes" me that way. I had to realize that I'm more than hormones. My body doesn't really produce them the way it used to; before the surgery. I had to learn to love my body anyway. I had to feel my way around this world AS a woman, even when I didn't FEEL like a woman on the inside. Is it the strength of my resolve that makes me a woman? Perhaps. I love being a woman. I get to be silly and emotional at every special occasion. Brilliant. I get to cry at every happy ending. Joyous. I get to shed tears of joy and pride every time my girls accomplish anything!! Stunning. I get to hold my friends hand and cry with her when she finds out that she has breast cancer. Shattering. I get to laugh at that 'same ole story', you tell me, every time we see each other. You know the one....the one that makes me tinkle a little bit and always makes you hiccup because you've laughed too hard. Priceless. Being a woman means, I never have to apologize for feeding the neighbors kids. (And you, too, if you make the mistake of coming over near a meal, or snack time. Okay, don't come over if you don't want to eat!!) It means that I can bake a cake and make a family feel welcome and actually MAKE THEM FEEL WELCOME! Comforting. Being soft and round, means that the dog always has a soft place to sleep. (And the girls, too!! Sorry, babe.) Warm! Maybe, it's the fact that I like Coach bags. There I said it. Fun!
I'm not sure, exactly, what 'makes' me a woman, but, I wouldn't have it any other way.
Take a deep, cleansing breath...........it's just another day in Perfect.
What makes me a woman?
I had a complete hysterectomy not long after Savannah was born. I would by lying if I said that after this surgery I didn't feel "less" womanly. I felt empty somehow. Hollow. The interesting idea is....the mere fact that I FELT so much, from simply having a surgery, may, in fact, be the strongest indicator that I AM a woman.
Now men, don't misunderstand me. I'm not saying that y'all don't "FEEL" anything. Absurd. Perhaps, more of what I'm saying is that I acknowledge my own absurdity. I fully "out myself" to being an overly touchy feely creature. I wouldn't have it any other way.
I like being a woman. Even if I can't really wrap my arms around what "makes" me that way. I had to realize that I'm more than hormones. My body doesn't really produce them the way it used to; before the surgery. I had to learn to love my body anyway. I had to feel my way around this world AS a woman, even when I didn't FEEL like a woman on the inside. Is it the strength of my resolve that makes me a woman? Perhaps. I love being a woman. I get to be silly and emotional at every special occasion. Brilliant. I get to cry at every happy ending. Joyous. I get to shed tears of joy and pride every time my girls accomplish anything!! Stunning. I get to hold my friends hand and cry with her when she finds out that she has breast cancer. Shattering. I get to laugh at that 'same ole story', you tell me, every time we see each other. You know the one....the one that makes me tinkle a little bit and always makes you hiccup because you've laughed too hard. Priceless. Being a woman means, I never have to apologize for feeding the neighbors kids. (And you, too, if you make the mistake of coming over near a meal, or snack time. Okay, don't come over if you don't want to eat!!) It means that I can bake a cake and make a family feel welcome and actually MAKE THEM FEEL WELCOME! Comforting. Being soft and round, means that the dog always has a soft place to sleep. (And the girls, too!! Sorry, babe.) Warm! Maybe, it's the fact that I like Coach bags. There I said it. Fun!
I'm not sure, exactly, what 'makes' me a woman, but, I wouldn't have it any other way.
Take a deep, cleansing breath...........it's just another day in Perfect.
Life is dirty.........
I had an interesting revelation tonight. Interesting and, well, shocking. First of all, as a writer you write things hoping that people with actually read them. Obviously. Then, when you find out that people ARE reading what you've written, you're shocked. Ironic.
Truth be told, when I started this blog, it was a selfish endeavor. I had 'things to say' and no real voice to say them. I wanted to get some things off of my chest, as it were. I also, wanted to stretch myself creatively. I wanted to see if I could even do it. My intentions were simple ones. Share. Write. Vent. Challenge my readers to find themselves in my words. I wanted people to think about the way in which they treat each other and themselves. I wanted people to know the ways in which I've been treated and the way in which I treat myself. Simple enough. Or so I thought.
The reality is this. Now, people are afraid to talk to me for "fear" of being put "in the blog". This, I've come to see, is a real legitimate fear. I wouldn't want someone writing about me, in a negative way, either. Funny as it might sound. This, simple fact NEVER OCCURRED to me. I never thought that people would be afraid to be themselves around me for fear of how I might interpret their actions and therefore make them appear to other people.
So, now what? What do I do? Do I change the nature of my blog? Not likely. Quite honestly, I've wanted to write a book for a long time and I've known that it could never be fiction. Well, not "true" fiction. My writing is ALWAYS based on my real life experiences. Call it lack of imagination, but, I just think that real life is usually more fantastic than fiction. Do I just stop writing it at all? Hm. Interesting idea. However, I find that I'm still in need of the things that I was in need of in the first place. Sharing. Writing. Venting and challenging people. So, now I find myself in a real dilemma.
How do be true to myself and not drive a wedge between me and the people that I know and love? I suppose I'm doing the best that I can by not naming names and by not playing the blame game. I try, in my posts, to show both sides of coin. To show that it's not necessarily the road most traveled that's the safest or best bet. That, sometimes, the road I took, was bumpy and unpaved, but, scenic, at a minimum. My ideas are always just that; my opinions. My "take" on things. My true, real feelings about events that have happened TO ME. I try to show you how they made me feel and what part I played in the events. I try, and hope that I succeed, even some of the time, to show my authentic self. To be transparent. Genuine. Painfully so. I try to admit my short comings and weaknesses. Make myself so vulnerable to the reader. So much so, that they feel what I felt. Honestly, even if you flat ass disagree with me--that's amazing, because you felt something and I helped draw it out of you. Mission accomplished.
So, I suppose what I'm getting at is this......don't be afraid of "ending up in my blog". I will try to always treat everyone with respect and honesty. That's all I have to give. My honest opinion on an event that happened. No more. No less. Sometimes, it'll be funny. Sometimes, I might hit a nerve that's so close to your heart, it evokes a strong emotion. I pray that sometimes, it makes you cry with laughter, or joy, or empathy and, hell, I'll even take anger. Just know, that I will NEVER call anyone out. I will NEVER name names. I will NEVER disrespect my life in that way. The sad truth is, life is dirty. Life is hard. Life is beautiful. It's boring. It's eventful. It's painful. It's interesting, to say the least......
Oh hell........take a deep breath......it's just another day in Perfect.
Truth be told, when I started this blog, it was a selfish endeavor. I had 'things to say' and no real voice to say them. I wanted to get some things off of my chest, as it were. I also, wanted to stretch myself creatively. I wanted to see if I could even do it. My intentions were simple ones. Share. Write. Vent. Challenge my readers to find themselves in my words. I wanted people to think about the way in which they treat each other and themselves. I wanted people to know the ways in which I've been treated and the way in which I treat myself. Simple enough. Or so I thought.
The reality is this. Now, people are afraid to talk to me for "fear" of being put "in the blog". This, I've come to see, is a real legitimate fear. I wouldn't want someone writing about me, in a negative way, either. Funny as it might sound. This, simple fact NEVER OCCURRED to me. I never thought that people would be afraid to be themselves around me for fear of how I might interpret their actions and therefore make them appear to other people.
So, now what? What do I do? Do I change the nature of my blog? Not likely. Quite honestly, I've wanted to write a book for a long time and I've known that it could never be fiction. Well, not "true" fiction. My writing is ALWAYS based on my real life experiences. Call it lack of imagination, but, I just think that real life is usually more fantastic than fiction. Do I just stop writing it at all? Hm. Interesting idea. However, I find that I'm still in need of the things that I was in need of in the first place. Sharing. Writing. Venting and challenging people. So, now I find myself in a real dilemma.
How do be true to myself and not drive a wedge between me and the people that I know and love? I suppose I'm doing the best that I can by not naming names and by not playing the blame game. I try, in my posts, to show both sides of coin. To show that it's not necessarily the road most traveled that's the safest or best bet. That, sometimes, the road I took, was bumpy and unpaved, but, scenic, at a minimum. My ideas are always just that; my opinions. My "take" on things. My true, real feelings about events that have happened TO ME. I try to show you how they made me feel and what part I played in the events. I try, and hope that I succeed, even some of the time, to show my authentic self. To be transparent. Genuine. Painfully so. I try to admit my short comings and weaknesses. Make myself so vulnerable to the reader. So much so, that they feel what I felt. Honestly, even if you flat ass disagree with me--that's amazing, because you felt something and I helped draw it out of you. Mission accomplished.
So, I suppose what I'm getting at is this......don't be afraid of "ending up in my blog". I will try to always treat everyone with respect and honesty. That's all I have to give. My honest opinion on an event that happened. No more. No less. Sometimes, it'll be funny. Sometimes, I might hit a nerve that's so close to your heart, it evokes a strong emotion. I pray that sometimes, it makes you cry with laughter, or joy, or empathy and, hell, I'll even take anger. Just know, that I will NEVER call anyone out. I will NEVER name names. I will NEVER disrespect my life in that way. The sad truth is, life is dirty. Life is hard. Life is beautiful. It's boring. It's eventful. It's painful. It's interesting, to say the least......
Oh hell........take a deep breath......it's just another day in Perfect.
Monday, October 11, 2010
My Imagination (POEM)
I need to stop pretending that I’m not imagining that you were just pretending to love me.
Childlike, needing your love and acceptance.
Silent tantrums, thrown in the name of love; longing for your embrace. Acceptance. Love.
Silence from you….hidden away with invisible scars everyone else sees.
Blind are you to my anguish.
Turmoil for me…..Impatient, growing more weary every day.
I hide behind the smile, the laugh that everyone knows as me
This little girl craves that which she‘s never had.
My imagination my only escape.
I close my eyes and pretend again……………
Pretend I’m good enough…………
Pretend you’re proud of me………….
Pretend that you care about my pain, as if it were your own…………..
Pretend that you love me.
Pretend that I’m not an orphan……………
Pretend that you’re my mother.....not just the person who gave me life.
Alas, my imagination isn't that good.
Childlike, needing your love and acceptance.
Silent tantrums, thrown in the name of love; longing for your embrace. Acceptance. Love.
Silence from you….hidden away with invisible scars everyone else sees.
Blind are you to my anguish.
Turmoil for me…..Impatient, growing more weary every day.
I hide behind the smile, the laugh that everyone knows as me
This little girl craves that which she‘s never had.
My imagination my only escape.
I close my eyes and pretend again……………
Pretend I’m good enough…………
Pretend you’re proud of me………….
Pretend that you care about my pain, as if it were your own…………..
Pretend that you love me.
Pretend that I’m not an orphan……………
Pretend that you’re my mother.....not just the person who gave me life.
Alas, my imagination isn't that good.
Papaw (POEM)
Comfort is given to the one whom can not be comforted,
As unspeakable words are spoken.
He’s gone forever.
The deepest despair masking itself as mere sadness,
As tears fall on the outside now and inside forever.
He’s left her.
As the invisible veil falls, it’s visible to all who meet her,
She pretends that she’s not imagining that his love was make believe.
He’ll never be seen again.
The pain that strengthens her, has left her weak and frail,
But missing him would be a fools mistake.
He’s not coming back.
Once a little girl loved by a man so great as to have no compare,
Now a woman scarred and flawed to deep to repair.
Why did he have to go, so soon?
The grave’s long since been buried, in a hole that can never be filled,
Matching only the hole in her heart and mind; simply a void of being.
She misses him still.
For if only she could hold the hands that can no longer hold her,
Even if for just one night, the morning would break on a new day indeed.
For if her heart could heal from this passing, it might beat forever more in peace.
As unspeakable words are spoken.
He’s gone forever.
The deepest despair masking itself as mere sadness,
As tears fall on the outside now and inside forever.
He’s left her.
As the invisible veil falls, it’s visible to all who meet her,
She pretends that she’s not imagining that his love was make believe.
He’ll never be seen again.
The pain that strengthens her, has left her weak and frail,
But missing him would be a fools mistake.
He’s not coming back.
Once a little girl loved by a man so great as to have no compare,
Now a woman scarred and flawed to deep to repair.
Why did he have to go, so soon?
The grave’s long since been buried, in a hole that can never be filled,
Matching only the hole in her heart and mind; simply a void of being.
She misses him still.
For if only she could hold the hands that can no longer hold her,
Even if for just one night, the morning would break on a new day indeed.
For if her heart could heal from this passing, it might beat forever more in peace.
All My Fault (POEM)
It’s not your fault that you make me feel special.
The quiet boy
Who speaks to no one
Shares his secrets with me.
I must be "something", right?
You’re not to blame that your mere presence sends my heart into over drive.
The deepness in your eyes,
You’re shy aura, makes you seem so innocent.
Your spicy scent, lingers on me.
It must be love that makes my heart ache, right?
Who could blame you for not giving yourself away?
Protect your heart
At all costs,
Don’t worry about my feelings.
I’ll love you enough for both of us, right?
What does a touch really mean anyway?
Clearly I think of it too much,
It meant nothing after all.
Even though I can still feel your fingers, intertwined in mine.
Giving you my body was the least I could do, right?
No one blames you for hurting me.
The sensitive girl
Who loves too much
Shares herself with the world, always expecting the best in people.
It’s all my fault, right?
The quiet boy
Who speaks to no one
Shares his secrets with me.
I must be "something", right?
You’re not to blame that your mere presence sends my heart into over drive.
The deepness in your eyes,
You’re shy aura, makes you seem so innocent.
Your spicy scent, lingers on me.
It must be love that makes my heart ache, right?
Who could blame you for not giving yourself away?
Protect your heart
At all costs,
Don’t worry about my feelings.
I’ll love you enough for both of us, right?
What does a touch really mean anyway?
Clearly I think of it too much,
It meant nothing after all.
Even though I can still feel your fingers, intertwined in mine.
Giving you my body was the least I could do, right?
No one blames you for hurting me.
The sensitive girl
Who loves too much
Shares herself with the world, always expecting the best in people.
It’s all my fault, right?
Hunger (POEM)
Legs intertwined,
I can’t tell where one begins and the other ends.
The salty taste of your perfectly tanned skin.
Firm and yet soft at the same time.
Heat rising off of your body makes my mouth water.
The smell of you makes me want to rush,
But anticipation is the sweetest part.
You let me tear you apart,
One bite at a time.
Gently at first, so as not to destroy your perfect form.
Once my hunger gets the better of me,
I begin to devour you.
Caramel and cinnamon taste good against your flesh.
Oh, how I love a nice hot pretzel!!
Gottcha!
I can’t tell where one begins and the other ends.
The salty taste of your perfectly tanned skin.
Firm and yet soft at the same time.
Heat rising off of your body makes my mouth water.
The smell of you makes me want to rush,
But anticipation is the sweetest part.
You let me tear you apart,
One bite at a time.
Gently at first, so as not to destroy your perfect form.
Once my hunger gets the better of me,
I begin to devour you.
Caramel and cinnamon taste good against your flesh.
Oh, how I love a nice hot pretzel!!
Gottcha!
The Essence of You (POEM)
I breathe in your essence and feel it travel through my body,
Giving me energy and life.
The breath between your lips escapes into mine right before you gently caress my mouth with yours.
I breathe you in, over and over,
Never quite getting enough.
This breath, between us could be miles or simply millimeters.
It doesn’t matter.
I want it to last forever.
I want to feel you up against me forever.
I need to breathe you.
Don’t quite touch me, your essence is enough.
Make me want you more.
As if that’s even possible.
Breathe me into you.
I move my hair and I can still smell you now.
I can’t wash my sheets, it would wash away the essence of you;
Of us.
I can still feel you,
The essence of you,
As it travels through my body.
Lingering in small places, waiting for me to move and open you up again.
The almost of it, is almost too much to bear.
The essence of you is all that I still have,
But it’s enough.
Giving me energy and life.
The breath between your lips escapes into mine right before you gently caress my mouth with yours.
I breathe you in, over and over,
Never quite getting enough.
This breath, between us could be miles or simply millimeters.
It doesn’t matter.
I want it to last forever.
I want to feel you up against me forever.
I need to breathe you.
Don’t quite touch me, your essence is enough.
Make me want you more.
As if that’s even possible.
Breathe me into you.
I move my hair and I can still smell you now.
I can’t wash my sheets, it would wash away the essence of you;
Of us.
I can still feel you,
The essence of you,
As it travels through my body.
Lingering in small places, waiting for me to move and open you up again.
The almost of it, is almost too much to bear.
The essence of you is all that I still have,
But it’s enough.
The Idea of Loving You (POEM)
The idea of loving you.
The chasm that exists between our lips,
The moment before we kiss.
The heat I feel from your body,
Pressed up against mine.
Feeling your heart beat faster,
In response to gasping breath.
The idea of loving you.
The eternal, irrevocable, blind love that I feel for you.
Imaging your arms around me,
Holding me through the night.
Keeps out all the pain and anguish that the world brings me.
Praying that we don’t ever have to wake up,
And see the pale light of reality.
The cracks that we once thought of as small ones,
The light shines through now, for all to see.
Closing my eyes and feeling you near me,
Even when you’re so far away.
My mind play tricks on me,
A way to keep me safe.
The idea of loving you is safer than actually feeling it.
The memory of what we had,
Only a creation of my own.
Never really having you hold me is better in the end.
The idea of loving you,
Has always been better than the reality.
The idea of you loving me,
Has never even crossed my mind.
The chasm that exists between our lips,
The moment before we kiss.
The heat I feel from your body,
Pressed up against mine.
Feeling your heart beat faster,
In response to gasping breath.
The idea of loving you.
The eternal, irrevocable, blind love that I feel for you.
Imaging your arms around me,
Holding me through the night.
Keeps out all the pain and anguish that the world brings me.
Praying that we don’t ever have to wake up,
And see the pale light of reality.
The cracks that we once thought of as small ones,
The light shines through now, for all to see.
Closing my eyes and feeling you near me,
Even when you’re so far away.
My mind play tricks on me,
A way to keep me safe.
The idea of loving you is safer than actually feeling it.
The memory of what we had,
Only a creation of my own.
Never really having you hold me is better in the end.
The idea of loving you,
Has always been better than the reality.
The idea of you loving me,
Has never even crossed my mind.
Lie to Me (POEM)
Lie to me and tell me that I’m special;
I’ll believe that you are.
Lie to me and tell me that I’m all you ever think about;
I’ll obsess over you every minute anyway.
Lie to me and tell me that I’m beautiful;
I’ll never stop seeing the beauty in you.
Lie to me and tell me that I’m good enough;
I’ll always think that you’re better than me.
Lie to me and tell me that you’ll take care of me;
I’ll do anything for you.
Lie to me and tell me that you’d be lost without me;
I’ll never be able to find myself without you.
Lie to me and tell me that you don’t want it to end;
I’ll never stop replaying it in my head.
Lie to me and tell me that it’s all going to be alright;
I’ll fall apart alone.
Lie to me and tell me that you’d hold me if you could;
I’ll pretend that I’m in your arms, when I’m empty.
Lie to me and tell me that it’ll be like you never existed;
I’ll lie to you and agree.
Working Mom vs. Stay At Home Mom
Okay, here it is. The 'great debate'. Do you work or stay home? Which is 'better'? Which is 'harder'? Who should 'get more respect'? What a mess. Why do we do this to each other? Why, as women, do we feel the need to lift ourselves up by standing on the backs of other women that we've knocked down? Ridiculous really. Shouldn't we 'stand up' together? Shouldn't we have each others backs? Why the competition? I feel that it's simple. We are jealous of each other.
When I was a working mom, all I could think about was how 'lucky' those 'stay at home' moms were. They were able to 'sleep in', or at a minimum stay in their jammies longer than I could. They were able to hold their little ones hands on the way to school. Walk them right to the door and say their 'good-byes'. They could sit around and watch soap operas and go have lunch with their friends, if they wanted to. Whilst I was stuck leaving the house at the crack of dawn. Sitting in horrible traffic, sucking in exhaust and screaming at total strangers to "Move already!". I didn't get to see my babies walk in the door of the school. I wasn't there when Victor and Nikki broke up. (Young and the Restless reference. This will show you how long ago I actually watched the soap. Victor and Nikki broke up in like 1988.) I haven't had lunch with a friend in years!! (Co-workers not included.)
I felt cheated. Robbed of the 'time' with my girls. I was actually angry at the stay at home moms. What a life they must have? How simple and easy and comforting! No traffic. No rushing. No missing out on ANYTHING. Oh, to be the coveted, "Stay at Home" version of myself. Then, I'd be happy. Fulfilled. Complete. I would be satisfying my maternal side, entirely. Bliss.
So, what did I do? I quit my quite successful, well paying, full time job. Now, I had a catalyst of course. I had a live in nanny (don't hate) and she spent all that wonderful time with my baby. I was doing laundry one day and the nanny and the baby were with me in the laundry area. The baby bit down on a wire hanger (Mommy Dearest was right....no more wire hangers for me!!) and looked up to the nanny and said.....wait for it....."Up Mommy." Yes, ladies you heard it right. She called the nanny "mommy". Well, of course, I quit the very next day. I mean, that baby can NOT think that the nanny is her mommy! Unacceptable. Now, because I was so important at my company (let me think that, okay? Don't burst a girls bubble.) it took them about six weeks to find someone to replace me. Due to my 'people pleasing' side, I couldn't just 'leave them in the lurch' (as they say). I patiently waited for the day when I was going to be able to stay home with my baby. The day in which, I would be the one to change every diaper and teach her every color and letter and how to read and write. Bliss. Right?
Finally the day came....my first day as a stay at home mom. I got up. I got the baby up and we started our lives together. Hm. Where's my bliss? It wasn't so easy to find. Honestly, in the beginning I felt good. Hell, I felt great. I just knew that I was doing the right thing for me and my baby. Never mind the fact that I had just dumped all the financial responsibility on my husbands lap. Never mind that I had worked every day of my life from the time I was 12; a paid job from the time I was 15. I just expected this 'stay at home life' to be equally fulfilling and gratifying. Hm. Was I wrong? Was I setting myself up to fail? Yes....and no.
There are some amazing, wonderful days as a stay at home mom. I was there for most of the "firsts" with both of my daughters. Awesome. I saw them take their first steps. I saw them off to school for the first time. Cried the whole way there AND back home. I've even been here for the 'first leg shaving'. Amazing. I get to go on nearly every field trip. Bonus. I get to volunteer at the girls school. Wait, what? (That's not always fun, but, hey, you take the good with bad, right?) I'm here when my sweet angels leave for school and I'm here when the get home. Perfect.
BUT----I get bored. I feel trapped sometimes; inside these four walls. My sanctuary has become a prison of sorts. I choose to keep my home, by some peoples standards, too clean. I've become obsessed with it being like a model home. I NEED to have it be immaculate. After all, THIS is my job. Money has been a pretty constant issue for us. We, like many Americans, like to live beyond our means at times. Not every day, mind you, but sometimes. Being a one income family isn't easy. Especially, when you want to give your children 'everything'. There have been many years, where I didn't buy myself one thing. I mean nothing. Not a pair of socks. Unbelievable, yet true. My husband and I went for years and didn't even exchange gifts. Not one time. Not a birthday gift. Not a Christmas gift. This was the sacrifice that we made, for me to be the "Perfect" wife and mother. Inconceivable to most working women.
I feel like a failure some days. I look at all the women that I went to high school with, I haven't gone on to graduate from university, and feel insignificant. They're all "doing something" amazing for the world. They've all (okay, mostly) chosen to be working women. Funny thing....I WAS there. I did work. Hell, I have worked, on a part time basis, even since I "quit" that good job all those years ago. But, I've never achieved the level of success that these women have. They're all amazing women. They're all changing lives with their careers. They have intimidating titles and, I'm sure, large salaries. Their children go to the best schools and wear the best clothes. They live in huge homes and drives fancy cars. They, I'm sure, have bought themselves things this year. More than socks, I'd even wager. I'm sure that they've bought expensive gifts for everyone they know. I'm equally sure that they do amazingly generous things with their money. I'm sure that they donate to charities and sock some away for their children's college funds, etc. I realize that it's more than the money. I'm sure (well, I'm guessing) that they feel accomplished and content with their choices. Bliss.
Although----I was there. I had a successful job. I made good money. Now, I wasn't really changing peoples lives, as I was an Insurance Underwriting Manager, but, nonetheless, I was DOING something. Yet, I wanted to be home. Now, that I'm home, I really thought that I wanted to work again. My girls are older. It shouldn't be hard to pick it back up, jump right in and head out the door with everyone else. Sit in the traffic and 'make a difference' when I get to where ever it is I'm headed. So, I've looked around for something to do. No one wants to hire a thirty something, without a college degree and no real work experience for the last ten years, in the middle of a recession. Disappointing. So, I've signed up to do all sorts of "odd jobs", praying that one would come through. Alas, I get the opportunity to be an election judge. Perfect. It's temporary, but, gives us some extra money, right? I hate it.
I hate sitting in traffic. I hate leaving my girls before they head out to school. I hate them coming home to an empty house. I hate having to rush around to make dinner and try to talk to my children for a few minutes between dinner and their activities. Crap.
So what, exactly, am I getting at? I guess I'm trying to say this......I'm a stay at home mom. It's the lesser of the evils for me. It's where I'm changing lives and really making a difference. It's where they do want a thirty something, without a college degree and no real work experience for the last ten years, in the middle of recession. It's where I feel accomplished. Content. Bliss. Sometimes, when you think that the grass is greener, all you need to do is take off your shoes and go run on that side of the hill for a few minutes. You just might find a sticker burr or two. You might find some super green grass. Each of us is different. That's okay.
I'm not jealous of the super successful career moms that I went to high school with. I know that they have a hard time trying to juggle everything. I know that they feel the pressure of trying to do both things well. I know that, somedays, they WISH that they had my life. Just like, somedays, I WISH that I had theirs. I don't want to tear them down. I don't want to be torn down. I want to give them the respect that they deserve. I also, expect to be respected for my choices. At the end of day though...........I just take a deep breath.
It's just another day in Perfect.
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Reality vs. perception
I've heard that old adage that "there is no reality, only perception" and I believe that to be true. I've also really started thinking about what, exactly, that means to me. What, exactly it means to all of us.
My reality is vastly different than the same "reality" as perceived by you. You and I could be identical twins and have lived every moment together. Experiencing the same things, at the same time, in the same manner and still, on our death beds our lives would be "perceived" completely differently. Is it brain structure? Is it personality? Is it level of emotions or sensitivity to certain stimuli? Yes. I also think that it's more like a combination of all of those things.
Interesting concept that, really, has just occurred to me recently. (Don't laugh. I realize that the simple fact that this had NEVER occurred to me before, paints me a fool.) I believe that I over estimate the level of intimacy between me and other people. Simply put, I care more about you than you do about me. I believe that you and I MUST care about each other to the same degree, right? It's never occurred to me that some people just really don't give a shit. Mainly, because I ALWAYS give a shit. I care about the lady crossing the street in the rain and wonder if she could use a ride somewhere, safe and dry. I care about my friends and what they're thinking and feeling and wonder what I could do to help them, several times a day. I care about my husband and his needs and pray that I'm meeting most of them BEFORE he even knows that he has them. I care about my children and their future and happiness. So much so, that I'll lose sleep over it. I care about the homeless on days that are 100 degrees and on days that are 5 degrees. I care about them lots of days in between. I worry about something I've said to someone years ago, because the day AFTER I said it, I realized how that person, who doesn't really even know me, could have interpreted what I said, as mean. I might even say that I've obsessed over things that I've said to people. Wishing that I could go back and change my wording or just simply never have said anything at all. I've tried to bring myself to the point in which I had the courage to apologize and give myself the chance to explain my true intentions. I simply over do it all.
I over love. I over think. I over care. I over share. I over forgive. I over compensate. I over punish myself for small indiscretions. Yet, I rarely OVER analyze the ways in which OTHERS treat me. Had I done that, I might have noticed the manner in which some people had treated me and ran for cover. I might have saved myself years of pain and abuse from a man that, truly, didn't love me. I might have stopped speaking to my mother sooner. I might have never made certain friends. I might have saved myself a world of heart ache. I might have noticed that people truly didn't (and still don't) give a shit about me. Why is it that I always think the best of people? Meanwhile, they're thinking the worst of me. It all lies in our perception, right?
I must WANT to perceive the world as a kind, caring, loving, generous place where people really care about each other and want to do what's right. Everyday. I never see people as having an ulterior motive. I don't question peoples honesty or integrity. I trust that if you're speaking to me, that you're speaking the truth. I believe that you will do what you say you're going to do, because, well, you said you would. It never occurs to me to think badly about people. Yet, it's been proven to me time and time again, that this perception makes me a fool. An idiot. The butt of many jokes. And maybe, most sadly, misunderstood by people that I meet.
Simply, my perception of the world, makes me ask after people who don't want me to know anything about their lives. It makes it seem acceptable to want to help people who I barely know. Wouldn't they want to help me, too? It allows me to fall in love with someone in just a day or two, because I see the beauty and light that they, themselves, don't see. It allows me to be there and relate to peoples painful stories and want to help them in anyway possible. In short....it makes me a sucker.
As confusing as I am to people; people are to me. I mean, how can you take me wanting to help you out as a bad thing? How is it possible that that boy from high school...the one that I loved so much, only saw our relationship as a sexual one? How did that man that I loved, and would have married, not know that I was sincere in my feelings for him? How can the friend that I've loved and shared my life with feel embarrassed that we were friends? How can a woman who knows that she's doing something wrong, allow me to be labeled a liar, just to save her own ass?
The reality is.......your perception of this blog, is one hundred percent NOT my perception of this blog and no matter what I say or do, you are going to see it through your own filter. Read into it what you will. Entirely miss the point, maybe. Even become angry with me. I only hope that it will get you thinking and maybe even change your perception of someone you know. Hell, maybe even how you "perceive" me.
Take a deep breath.....its just another day in Perfect.
My reality is vastly different than the same "reality" as perceived by you. You and I could be identical twins and have lived every moment together. Experiencing the same things, at the same time, in the same manner and still, on our death beds our lives would be "perceived" completely differently. Is it brain structure? Is it personality? Is it level of emotions or sensitivity to certain stimuli? Yes. I also think that it's more like a combination of all of those things.
Interesting concept that, really, has just occurred to me recently. (Don't laugh. I realize that the simple fact that this had NEVER occurred to me before, paints me a fool.) I believe that I over estimate the level of intimacy between me and other people. Simply put, I care more about you than you do about me. I believe that you and I MUST care about each other to the same degree, right? It's never occurred to me that some people just really don't give a shit. Mainly, because I ALWAYS give a shit. I care about the lady crossing the street in the rain and wonder if she could use a ride somewhere, safe and dry. I care about my friends and what they're thinking and feeling and wonder what I could do to help them, several times a day. I care about my husband and his needs and pray that I'm meeting most of them BEFORE he even knows that he has them. I care about my children and their future and happiness. So much so, that I'll lose sleep over it. I care about the homeless on days that are 100 degrees and on days that are 5 degrees. I care about them lots of days in between. I worry about something I've said to someone years ago, because the day AFTER I said it, I realized how that person, who doesn't really even know me, could have interpreted what I said, as mean. I might even say that I've obsessed over things that I've said to people. Wishing that I could go back and change my wording or just simply never have said anything at all. I've tried to bring myself to the point in which I had the courage to apologize and give myself the chance to explain my true intentions. I simply over do it all.
I over love. I over think. I over care. I over share. I over forgive. I over compensate. I over punish myself for small indiscretions. Yet, I rarely OVER analyze the ways in which OTHERS treat me. Had I done that, I might have noticed the manner in which some people had treated me and ran for cover. I might have saved myself years of pain and abuse from a man that, truly, didn't love me. I might have stopped speaking to my mother sooner. I might have never made certain friends. I might have saved myself a world of heart ache. I might have noticed that people truly didn't (and still don't) give a shit about me. Why is it that I always think the best of people? Meanwhile, they're thinking the worst of me. It all lies in our perception, right?
I must WANT to perceive the world as a kind, caring, loving, generous place where people really care about each other and want to do what's right. Everyday. I never see people as having an ulterior motive. I don't question peoples honesty or integrity. I trust that if you're speaking to me, that you're speaking the truth. I believe that you will do what you say you're going to do, because, well, you said you would. It never occurs to me to think badly about people. Yet, it's been proven to me time and time again, that this perception makes me a fool. An idiot. The butt of many jokes. And maybe, most sadly, misunderstood by people that I meet.
Simply, my perception of the world, makes me ask after people who don't want me to know anything about their lives. It makes it seem acceptable to want to help people who I barely know. Wouldn't they want to help me, too? It allows me to fall in love with someone in just a day or two, because I see the beauty and light that they, themselves, don't see. It allows me to be there and relate to peoples painful stories and want to help them in anyway possible. In short....it makes me a sucker.
As confusing as I am to people; people are to me. I mean, how can you take me wanting to help you out as a bad thing? How is it possible that that boy from high school...the one that I loved so much, only saw our relationship as a sexual one? How did that man that I loved, and would have married, not know that I was sincere in my feelings for him? How can the friend that I've loved and shared my life with feel embarrassed that we were friends? How can a woman who knows that she's doing something wrong, allow me to be labeled a liar, just to save her own ass?
The reality is.......your perception of this blog, is one hundred percent NOT my perception of this blog and no matter what I say or do, you are going to see it through your own filter. Read into it what you will. Entirely miss the point, maybe. Even become angry with me. I only hope that it will get you thinking and maybe even change your perception of someone you know. Hell, maybe even how you "perceive" me.
Take a deep breath.....its just another day in Perfect.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)