Monday, November 12, 2018

Not So Much Drifting as Trying to Find the Shore

Today has been, on the whole, not a bad day. At least, not objectively. And yet, I am floundering in depression, mostly because before today (or at least last night), I didn't realize I was in depression.

It started, I think, with a call about having to go do a random drug test and breathalyzer. Neither of these were problematic from the stand point of me worrying about not passing. I don't drink (it's been over a year since I have), I don't smoke (which would be legal, as long as it was tobacco), and I would be the least likely person to do any actual drugs (I dislike needles, I don't like the idea of snorting anything, I barely tolerate taking pain reliever, and I am against the idea of smoking anything, which rules out most forms of drug intake). The call came about 3 hours before I was likely to get up. It was almost 2 hours before I would finish my actual (legally required) break (it didn't hurt me nearly as much as it could, but it did screw up my work day later that day). And then I spent the rest of the day overly tired, but unable to convince myself to take a nap.

So, despite depression usually sneaking in through bringing insomnia, it snuck in when I was distracted with work-based, forced insomnia. And then I just thought I was tired, because of hormones/time changes/somebody screwing with my schedule for a day.

Instead, I was apparently sinking into depression.

The sign that tipped me off was my lack of actually feeding myself on my own. I didn't buy food, or make a sandwich, either of which I could have done and it would have been better for me. Instead, I just decided I should make a sandwich, and then didn't make one. Because we ended up somewhere it was snowy, which required a little bit more effort when going in to go to the bathroom, and coming back out to relax, while waiting for a load. And then I would remember, after sitting on the bed, that I was going to make a sandwich, but I didn't want to climb back down. So, I just didn't really eat.

This, by the way, is very unhealthy and not a coping mechanism. My body was still telling me, screaming at me really, that it was hungry. I just couldn't get myself to do what needed to be done.

Last night, I confessed this to Ace, while eating a ham and cheese sandwich he bought me before bed. We were switching who was driving, and I knew I'd enjoy the ham and cheese sandwich, so I asked him to get me one, while I went to the truck and pulled down clothes for us and made him the active driver. He reminded me that I can buy something for myself to eat, including Lunchables, if I need to. That it's okay, and even budgeted, for me to spend that money. It was a good reminder. It doesn't necessarily help me if my brain tries to claim the lines are too long, but the better thing there is to remind myself that I don't have to talk much to buy my food and that feeding myself is important.

So, I'm back to trying to find the shore. Finding out about Stan Lee's death did not help today. It brought about the feelings of sadness, but the depression was really already here, lurking. Keeping me from doing the bare minimum of taking care of myself.

Tomorrow, we have a load again. Tomorrow, I focus on driving and listening to Terry Pratchett's Moving Pictures (and some preaching on marriage). Tomorrow, I do my best to keep my head above the water and keep searching for the shore.

But tonight, I give myself permission to just breathe, if that's what I need to focus on. And to eat some dinner, because food is good and good for me, but that I won't be upset if I don't eat much because I'm just not up for it. And that I can buy myself a Lunchable, if need be. Tonight, we make it through, minute by minute, hour by hour.

Sunday, October 21, 2018

A Wrinkle in Time

Ace and I watched A Wrinkle in Time this evening. And now I want to talk about it.

It seems that Meg is depressed. Which might be why she doesn't care that she doesn't really seem to have friends. But, as Mrs. Who tells her, "The wound is the place where the light enters you." (Original quote by Rumi.) And a vast majority of the movie is Meg dealing with her wound.

Along the way, she has to learn how to find a middle ground, how to be afraid but find out the answer anyway, to trust that her flaws have good things, and ultimately to love herself as she is.

As someone who occasionally battles with depression, this movie speaks to me. Meg fighting for Charles Wallace seemed to me to be Meg fighting with her own depression, to make it through to love herself and save her brother. And her stubborn nature got her to rescue her father and then save her brother.

I won't pretend that the movie doesn't change things from the book, it clearly does. The only time Aunt Beast shows up is in a vision between the Happy Medium and Meg. They drop the twins. Charles Wallace is adopted.

That said, it is still a good movie. And it is worth watching.

Monday, August 27, 2018

Tiny Living

I admit that while I generally try to not judge people, I can't quite help but wonder about people who decide to live in tiny homes. The people who, willingly, decide that living in 134-ish square feet is for them. I wonder if they realize how difficult it will be before they start.

I live in a truck cab, so I know tiny living. 134 square feet would actually be an upgrade for Ace and I. We have bunk beds and storage cabinets and, as a treat, a fridge (we aren't sure if the microwave will work now, so we will have to test that soon). There is no where to really cook anything more than canned foods really. All our clothes stay in bags, because the storage space is taken up with food, drinks, and other things that make life easier on the road (like DVDs, apparently). The only time Ace and I are apart is when we take showers, unless we share one, or are in a hotel room. We have about 3 weeks worth of clothes that we haul around, because that is easier than trying to wash them weekly, but that is more of a trucking thing than a tiny living thing.

We have very little mystery in our lives at this point. At least from each other. The good news is that we figured out how to share small spaces without fighting before we started living on a truck. And we quickly realized that having our own computers was a must, otherwise violence might ensue. We are both fairly calm people, but a lack of privacy (we usually only have a curtain separating us) and constantly being together can still get any two people to fight. And after a certain point, you know what your spouse/partner/whatever sounds like when waking up or just breathing when you spend this much time in tight quarters. My husband knows all those things that women usually prefer to pretend don't happen with their husband, because it's not like I can really hide anything.

Small spaces can easily be overwhelmed with bad smells (sweaty socks/sweat in the recirculating air/burnt food/farts/whatever other bad smell), because there is only so much room for them to dissipate. We use Fabreeze to help, but that requires us to be able to spray it and let it sit for a bit sometimes, which we can't always do (and it doesn't really help the recirculating air much). Air fresheners can only do so much. And if we go to any dirt/gravel lots (which happens), the inside of the truck gets dirtier than usual. It's bad enough with no dirt/gravel lots and just food particles.

I understand the pull of simplifying your life and getting rid of stuff, but after living in such a small space for so many years, I want multiple rooms and a few hundred square feet (minimum) of living space. I want to be able to have room away from Ace, so we can both grow and then come back together.

I'm not trying to talk anyone out of living in a small space, there are benefits to not having much stuff, and Kindle is a good way to have a mobile, portable library (with lots of free or inexpensive books, as my laptop can suggest). Realizing how little you need to have a happy, comfortable life is not a bad thing. But keep in mind there are downsides to tiny living. And one of them is that not having much stuff means not being able to always get more stuff as you want it. You have to keep your stuff fairly pared down to stay living tiny.

Sunday, August 13, 2017

Carrying On

Lately, I've been reading ebooks from the library system like it's going out of style. I found that I can, when we have down time, read like crazy and enjoy myself and I am re-finding my love of reading (that wasn't really lost, just slightly misplaced).

Currently, I am reading Carry On, Warrior by Glennon Doyle Melton. It is beautiful and brutal. My heart soars and my heart aches with some of these stories.

And it's reminded me that I need to be my authentic self. People seem to like that person. She's nice and caring and admits mistakes and loves all sorts of things that make me so very happy. She's a bit of a mess, but she's trying. And she has opinions, which is something I've usually tried to avoid expressing unless I am sure about other people's opinions. So that I'm safe from arguments or disagreements or people yelling or just talking loudly.

I wish I knew what exactly started my hiding my opinions about things. I think it had to do with my mother. I don't want to make her a scapegoat for all my problems, but she did seem to cause quite a few of them. It wasn't safe to have opinions other than hers around her. She didn't like that, and I wanted her to like me so that maybe she might love me in a way I needed loving. But it didn't happen. That, of course, did not stop me from keeping up that habit, in case it might start working (and yes, I know that's insane, but you do insane things when dealing with insane situations).

And by the time I was around someone (Ace) who I could be completely free to share opinions with, I had stopped forming many opinions. What was the use, if they weren't going to be able to be expressed? (This terrible habit is one that annoys him still, because sometimes he wants an opinion, and I don't have one to give him. Some habits are harder to break than others.)

But, lately, I have been realizing that I need to start having opinions again. And expressing them. That I need to be able to express myself, even if I'm slightly broken and dented, because I do have opinions and I need to be okay with the fact that people aren't going to agree with me all the time. I need to be okay with the idea that I'm not supposed to please everyone.

I like Glennon's writing, because it pushes me to think about my faith. And to grow, mostly closer to God, but sometimes closer to myself. And it's nice to remember that I'm allowed to mess up and be messy and the world will still go on. I'm important to God, but I'm not the center of the universe. And that's good.

I don't really know where any of this rambling is going, just that I'm working on carrying on, forgiving myself, loving myself, and not just stalling out because things don't go how I expect them too. Life is messy, even when I'm together. And things have a way of working out, generally for the best.

So, I invite you to carry on too. And maybe if we practice the things we want to see in the world, it will get better.

Thursday, May 25, 2017

Double Standards

I know that in my last post I was wondering what women were protesting on International Women's Day, (I never have found out.) and this post is probably part of the answer.

I am tired of the double standards for women. I am tired of the implication in the world that I am never enough if I try to please the masses. There is no right weight or clothing style or whatever to keep me from being a prude or a slut or at fault for being assaulted in some people's minds. I can't make people happy, and I am finding out that collar bones are somehow too sexy for schools these days (I would be completely lost at finding shirts that cover my collar bones, and I wear pretty plain t-shirts. Collar bones are pretty high up on the chest. Why are they supposed to be covered?).

Part of the problem, at least in some schools, is that teachers are probably finding their students attractive. I'm not saying that none of the boys might find shoulders attractive, but I doubt that teen boys are too distracted to focus in school because of girls wearing sleeveless shirts. And if girls should wear sleeves, so should boys. If the teachers are having problems focusing on teaching because the girls are showing shoulders, the teachers need to figure out how to be an adult.

But I am tired of the idea that women can only be extremes. They can only be prudes or sluts. They can be butch or girly. They can be too masculine or too feminine. They can't just be, well, themselves. That maybe my haircut (currently a pixie cut, which looks awesomely cute on me) is a reflection of my life and my preferences, rather than some other, random statement about me.

So, I am ignoring any opinions about my style (which is actually a pretty casual and conservative style) that isn't mine, my husband's, or God's. As long as we are all satisfied, you can worry about your own style. (This is not particularly a new thought process for me. I've been wearing what I want for years.) And I'll not say anything about your style (I might tell you if your zipper's unzipped or you have toilet paper on your shoe or your skirt is not lying flat.). After all, my opinion shouldn't matter to you (unless you are Ace).

And maybe, someday, society will stop trying to judge people based on what they choose to wear. Maybe school dress codes (which I somewhat understand the need for) will be less restrictive (after all, shoulders and collar bones should not be scandalous). And I look forward to that day.

Wednesday, March 8, 2017

International Woman's Day

To start off, I want to proclaim that I am for women. I am for men. I am for equality among genders. And I'm happy to spend a day, a week, a month, a year, a lifetime dedicated to honoring women in history. We should honor all the people who have made advances in things and made our lives better. If they only made one life better, it's enough for us to celebrate their life.

Having said that, what was the point of women protesting today? That is a legitimate question. Why were they protesting?

As a woman in a male-dominated field (truck drivers are mostly male), I can honestly say that I have never been discriminated against because of my gender, except in one specific spot (and I don't know that gender is what caused the issue, so I can't fully feel comfortable blaming that). In fact, I've mostly had good reactions to me being a female who drives a truck. Probably because I don't seem to fit the stereotype of a female truck driver.

I've never had someone act like I couldn't do my job because I'm female. They've been impressed and surprised, but not demeaning. I've never been paid less than my husband, which is more impressive because he's got a longer history of driving than I do. (This is mainly because of the fact that I came in as an owner-operator, which got a set pay no matter how long you had been driving. And the truck we currently drive gets paid x per mile and we make y% of that amount.) This is an industry that does not care what your gender is, as long as you can drive. Most pay is based off of experience, unless the company pays a set amount per mile for anyone.

Trucking, while not exactly female friendly in terms of cleanliness, is an equal opportunity for all, regardless of race, gender, or religion.

If it has to do with the government not helping to support the purchase of birth control, I'm not personally overly concerned with that. I might be willing to protest about not being taxed at a higher amount for hygiene products, as that is not something women just buy for fun. (Seriously, most of us would be happy to skip having periods, if that were an option without removing the option of having kids. Periods are not fun, but should be at least minorly understood by all.) I have options besides pills for birth control (including condoms, an IUD, and abstinence). I don't have a lot of options about having a period.

Anyway. Congratulations on being a human! I hope you make things better in the world! And please, explain what women were protesting today by "not showing up to their jobs", because that would just get me in a world of trouble with several people if I had done that (the trucking company and my husband, at minimum).

Friday, January 27, 2017

Grieving Is Not a 5 Step Process

Today, I want to talk about grief. Not for any particular reason, other than it has been on my mind.

There has been some popular idea, put on tv and in movies, that grief is a 5 step process and once you go through those steps, you will have successfully grieved. And it's based on a misunderstanding of what that 5 step process was about. It is the steps someone who is dying goes through. After all, it's hard for me to argue that Carrie Fisher didn't die when it's obvious that she did. I may say to myself, "No, this isn't real," when I first read about a celebrity's death, but that's more shock than denying what is true.

Grief, from the side of the person who survives, does not come all at once. It doesn't hit you just once that you lost someone. It comes back to haunt you, over and over. And then the loss is new again. And slowly, there are less things that bring the pain back as badly. You find ways to deal with the hard times and life continues, as always.

And sometimes, you grieve the loss of things instead of people. I've been dealing with a potential loss of my dream of being a parent. I've been dealing with this idea for a while, but recently it hit much harder and at a terrible time for me to even try to deal with it emotionally. I have to face the truth, at 36 it is unlikely that I will get to have my own kids and adoption isn't an option right now, and may never be a viable one. And it hurts so bad. As much as I know that it's a good thing, as any children would not be able to be with us right now, it hurts.

I recognize that I haven't faced much loss in my life. Not really. Both of my parents are alive and in seemingly good health (for an odd definition of good). One of my grandmothers has died, but the other is still alive. My siblings are both healthy. I haven't lost many extended family members, and most of those were through divorce, not death.

But that doesn't mean that I've never grieved. My junior year of high school, I knew 4 people who died. One of them was a classmate, one was a teacher. The other two were relatives, both old enough that death was less surprising. A year ago, my grandmother died. And I couldn't go to her funeral, because by the time I knew when it was, I was not going to be able to change where I would be in time to do anything. I lost the relationship with my mother, as unhealthy for me as it was. And I had to mourn the loss of the relationship I wanted and deserved. I still mourn that loss. Not as much as I did, but the pain is still there.

Grief is not a 5 step process. And we insult the grieving every time we pretend like it is.

Now, if you need me, I'll be over here, mourning my losses and trying to find my equilibrium again.

Sunday, November 20, 2016

The Giver

A while back (earlier this year, I think, but my memory is being weirdly random about time right now), I read the book The Giver. I then read most of it to Ace out loud while he drove. And we had to keep stopping while I was reading to talk about the book.

If you haven't read it, I do recommend it. It's about a boy named Jonas who lives in a controlled community. He turns 12 and is given his job, which he will start to do right away and will be doing for the rest of his life. Most of the people in his community work in the fish hatchery, or take care of babies, or deliver food. Jonas gets a very different job. He's to be the keeper of memories.

Part of the reason I like rereading books (this is related, just give me a moment) is that I get to notice something I missed the first time around. Sometimes it's months later (like today).

For The Giver, I noticed this:

Jonas, who was getting the memories of all of civilization, suddenly had PTSD. And he had no one to talk to about it, except the Giver. Who would understand, but wouldn't be able to help fix it. He would have to live with the memories of war, starvation, broken bones, poverty, loss, hate, fear, and all the bad things until the next keeper of memories was chosen (sometime in his future). He would, of course, have all the memories of love, sunny days, peace, joy, riches, color, and all the good things as well.

The scene that really made me realize that he had PTSD was one where he, after experiencing war, saw his friends/the other children, playing a pretend war game. They pretended to shoot each other and die, and to them it was just a fun game. To Jonas, he was suddenly inundated with memories of a real war. And he froze up, caught in between both worlds.

This stark contrast between what the other children know and what Jonas knows is shocking. Jonas, as much as he wants to, can never regain his innocence. The reader, no matter how much they want to, can't give Jonas back his innocence. They just have to hope that Jonas can cope, because they are on the outside, looking in.

The book has an ambiguous ending. I'm not going to put it here, as there are many details I left out and you should really go read the book. And while some people have been disappointed by the ending, I liked it. It's okay to not tell the readers everything. (That ending becomes less ambiguous if you read the sequels to The Giver, but they are well worth the read too.)

The best thing about the book is that it should make you ask questions. Questions like: How much freedom are you willing to give up to feel like your life is safe? Would you give up your chance to choose? Would you give up your sense of color? Would you give up on trying to find your passion as a job to work a government mandated job that hopefully fulfilled you?

And how much of that safety would you give up to get those things back if you lost them without knowing you had lost them?

Wednesday, November 9, 2016

With Regards to the Future President

I am not a particularly political person. Not because I don't see the importance, but I can only devote so much of my time to things that I have little to no influence over. Since I have very little influence in politics, it tends to be something I mostly ignore when it's not affecting me personally. I just have too many other things (that are more important to me) to do.

That said, here are my unsolicited thoughts on this election.

Just about everything I've seen on FaceBook (because I don't spend a lot of time elsewhere getting news) seems to be divided into two thoughts on Donald Trump. Either he's going to give everyone every thing they've been day dreaming about politically or he's going to personally come and lock up anyone who he disagrees with (such as Muslims, the LGBT community, and people of Latin descent) while assaulting the women. There seems to be almost no middle ground.

I don't really agree with either camp. I hope that he does get to do at least some of the things on his 100 day list. Changing how we fund education and how many bureaucrats involved in it would be great. Not granting asylum to any illegal immigrant just because they are here would be great (INS would probably prefer to actually be able to do something more than having drug dogs sniffing for drugs at the border control check points). Trying to figure out a way to actually confirm that people seeking asylum are really needing asylum would be nice. I want to trust people, but I recognize that verifying things is important in some situations.

I think that putting a non-politician in office might not be the worst thing for this country (I make no promises that it will be the best thing we've ever done, but it might not be as bad as people think). I did not prefer either candidate (I preferred none of the candidates, to be honest), but I did have some serious concerns about Hillary Clinton possibly being in charge. Which does not mean that I think Trump is necessarily going to be great at being president. But he has been elected. So, we must go forward and figure out what that means for our country.

If you are nervous about Trump as president, I understand. He's an unknown right now. But remember, he has over 2 months before he takes office. And he seems to be trying to figure out practical things that might fix some of the problems this country has. He's apparently paid enough attention to how schools work in Europe, and realized that European students do better on actually showing that they've learned something by the time they graduate High School. His education reform is based off of proven European techniques (money following the student, less bureaucrats and standardized testing) and seems to be trying to get rid of programs that were intended for good, but don't really seem to be helping.

So, I am not advocating that Trump is the right choice. I don't think that all my political hopes will be met. But, I recognize that we've made a choice as a country. And since we've made that choice, we should all grow up enough to remember that the President does not act as supreme. He's got checks in place to keep him from being a dictator. He can't do everything on his own, and Congress and the Supreme Court have a say as well.

Lets stop panicking/rejoicing as if everything will be different tomorrow.

And maybe, lets give him a chance. Maybe he'll surprise us all.

Monday, November 7, 2016

Representation

I was looking at an article earlier about the importance of representation (of any group beyond just white people, specifically white males). And it was interesting, because the latest Star Wars movie was mentioned multiple times. There was a picture of a boy holding a Finn doll. There was a mention of the fact that they didn't write Finn or Rey as any specific skin color, but they were careful while casting.

And it occurs to me that while representation (especially of minorities) in media is important, we also need to not ignore the importance of representing all the main characters when it comes to merchandise.

I know that there are plenty of tags on twitter asking about where Rey (Star Wars), Black Widow (Avengers), and Gamora (Guardians of the Galaxy) are. And that is a good question. Why do manufacturers seem to ignore the female characters (All three of whom actually stayed clothed for the movies they have been in and were all major characters in the movies. Rey was pretty much the star of Star Wars:The Force Awakens.) when creating merchandise for children/collectors?

The sad reality is that the manufacturers are not the ones skipping characters. Or at least, not the ones physically making the merchandise. It's some executive somewhere who decided that they didn't need to represent all the characters in the toys, because they were marketing them to boys and why would boys want to play with a female character? (A flawed thought process, as I'm sure many of those boys would want all the characters, even if some of them happen to be female)

We do need to have more representation of minorities in movies and on TV shows. We need to not shy away from casting someone who may not be Hollywood's version of pretty, but who brings the character to life. We need writers to write strong characters and casting to cast the best actor or actress, regardless of the color of their skin. We should be ashamed that in 2016 we are uncomfortable with the idea of seeing people on TV or in movies who aren't pretty (whether they can act or not).

But we also need those executives to be held accountable for the lack of representation in merchandising. Why are they randomly comfortable with cutting their revenues sharply by not offering the merchandise that all children (and most collectors, I'm sure) want to have.

(I will admit that on my most recent walk around a Walmart, I did see some superhero shirts in the women's section and not just female superheroes. That was awesome, and a step towards understanding that women are interested in buying clothes that represent their interest in traditionally masculine things.)

Come on, random executives. I thought you wanted to make as much money as possible! Make some female action figures/merchandise to go with the males of the cast. Do it as a test, if nothing else.

Wednesday, October 26, 2016

The Cyclical Nature of Trucking (Problems)

One of the weirdest parts about living on a truck is how often the same problem pops up on different trucks. The truck we are currently inhabiting, we've been living on for 2 weeks (and a night). In that 2 weeks, we've had problems pop up that have needed to be fixed (which is sad, in that 2 weeks isn't a long time, but this truck had nearly half a million miles on it when we moved in).

Today we delivered (Ace did, and I slept apparently soundly.). Then we came by a truck stop to get an oil change done. And have them check out the a/c (it wasn't blowing cold in the front half). And find out what the check engine light on the truck meant. We have a truck with fresh oil, temporarily working a/c for the front, and a trip to a different shop for tomorrow to try to get the rest fixed (including a part that might be messing with the alignment). The check engine light had to do with the exhaust system, which is not something to be ignored.

If this had been the first issues, I'd be less wondering if the owner of the truck finds us annoying. However, we could not have done any of this damage in 2 weeks. I know he knows that, but...

Anyway. Every truck I've lived in has had some problem pop up with the exhaust system. Truck manufacturers have worked hard to make it so that trucks actually not only don't greatly pollute the air, but in fact, will clean it. This has to do with California and it's smog problem. But, I don't think all the bugs are worked out of their systems for cleaning the exhaust.

So, tomorrow will be spent at a Freightliner (a first on type of truck), hoping that we can get back on the road soon with a fixed truck.

I am not holding my breath on it being a quick fix (it hasn't been in the past, but maybe Freightliner is better at this stuff).

Thursday, October 20, 2016

The Hunger Games

I've watched the first Hunger Games movie, and I started reading the book while visiting a friend a few years ago, but I didn't get to finish reading the book then. I know, generally, what's going to happen.

But it's occurred to me that Suzanne Collins has done a wonderful job of presenting a limited point of view by telling us the story just from Katniss' view point. Katniss does not know what to make of Peeta Mellark. She isn't sure what all he's doing to gain an advantage in the games. She's convinced that he's only being nice/hanging out with her before the games start because he's following orders and trying to get sponsors to like him. She doesn't know what to make of his interview where he says he loves her. She doesn't trust him, understandably, or anything he says or does. Not that I truly think Peeta is lying for most of this, but that she doesn't feel like she can trust anyone, so she doesn't.

And it's so refreshing to not know the whole story. Because in real life, we only know our motives unless someone else actually tells us why they are doing what they are doing. Motives stay fuzzy, and we can't always be sure of why someone is doing something.

Of course, the true story is about a government that forces kids to kill each other for entertainment/punishment. It's about a girl who is willing to sacrifice her life (again) for her family. It's not a warm and fuzzy kind of story. Katniss is sympathetic, but only because the story is told from her point of view. It's oddly easier to feel bad for Rue, who didn't have an older sister volunteer as tribute for her, especially since she reminds Katniss of Prim. Rue, who is 12 and knows she's not likely to survive. Rue, who makes an alliance with Katniss in the arena. Rue, who's death helped start a revolution (Although, why it took until her death to anger enough people to even start to revolt, I will never understand. 73 years of teenagers dying was okay, but that 74th year was too much?).

I can understand why this book was made into a movie. The vivid scenes almost beg to be turned into a visual medium, and not just reliant upon people's imagination. Katniss shooting an arrow into the apple in a hog's mouth, Katniss' descriptions of the capital, the entrances of all the tributes in carriages to introduce them, again, to the audience within the book, the pageantry of the interviews and the clothing that goes with them, these are all scenes that are vividly painted, but seem to be asking to be made into artwork or a movie.

I am in awe of Suzanne Collins' writing. She does an amazing job. And she makes it easy to understand the horror of being pulled into these games, of competing, and of losing a loved one to the games. She takes a horrifying idea, and makes it an entertaining read. That is impressive. And a bit haunting.

Thursday, October 6, 2016

INFJ

I have taken the MBTI test more than once in my life. It usually has been varied on what letters it gives me based on how I'm thinking/feeling that day. Except the I for introverted. I have always been an I, which does not surprise me in the least. I've joked about becoming a hermit, because I am generally good with staying home most of the time. I don't really get cabin fever unless I can't actually go anywhere. The ability to leave keeps me content with not leaving, oddly enough.

This spring (I think), Ace and I took the test. He got ISTJ, but it was fairly inconclusive for the S verses N (It was within a standard deviation of being truly neutral on that.). I got INFJ, which made more and more sense I started researching what was said about INFJ.

INFJ is apparently a very low percentage of the population (2% total, 1% of males, and 2% of females) and is the type most often mistyped because we are somewhat chameleon like in how we test/are perceived. I think it's more because we likely to answer slightly differently based on mood.

And if I stick to more of an explanation based on psychology, I am totally an INFJ. If I start moving toward people's ideas of what an INFJ is, I start feeling like I've been mistyped. But the overall explanations seem more accurate than not, so I'm proclaiming it. I am an INFJ.

All of that is an explanation of the way I blog. INFJ understands feelings from outside themselves, so they understand how they feel when they talk them out (or write them out). This is why my posts probably seem to be a bit of a word salad, thought experience thing. They kind of are. It's my way of organizing my thoughts and feelings and understanding them without bothering Ace about them all. I don't know how he feels about me doing this, but I imagine he appreciates it.

I will admit to having spent some time obsessing over INFJ information. And feeling more and more like I understand some things about myself more than ever. I've felt less broken in general and realized why I feel like I don't really connect with people easily. I've started to understand why so many things seem so personal and risky to share to others, even when I know the risk is small and who cares what someone else thinks?

Saturday, October 1, 2016

Mr. Darcy and Ms. Bennet

I watched through The Lizzie Bennet Diaries this week. I blew through them videos for the main story in two days, and today (day 3) I watched all of the supporting videos. If you haven't seen them and liked Pride and Prejudice, I suggest you go watch them on YouTube. There are 100 episodes of the Diaries, with 10 Q&A videos, 2 epilogue videos, and 33 videos from Lydia Bennet's point of view. They change a few things from the books (Mr. Collins proposes a business partnership instead of marriage, Mary is the Bennet sister's cousin and Kitty is Lydia's cat, Mr. Bingley becomes Bing Lee and loses a sister), but the changes don't detract from the story. (The biggest change is what happens between Lydia and Wickham. Well, that and Caroline Lee being the one to give Darcy hope instead of his Aunt Catherine.)

And it got me thinking about Mr. Darcy (both the one in the book and the one in the show). He comes across, to Elizabeth, as very proud and stuck-up. Lizzie calls him a robot at one point. And he does have a very old fashioned way of speaking (in the videos, period appropriate for the book). But, as he eventually shows in the videos (once he starts actually being in them), he's more shy and awkward and not quite comfortable with being in the public eye (which is weird, because he's a CEO of a company, someone who would be in the public eye). He does seem to relax around Lizzie and start showing his softer side, even before he thinks he might have a shot with Lizzie after all.

And I realized that most introverts and shy people seem to wear suits of armor to people. Mostly because they don't know what is going on in our heads. We seem distant and unapproving and judgemental, when we are really just listening and thinking and caring. Because talking can often be hard, words can be hard sometimes. And people seem to think quiet people are judging, even when we are mentally checked out.

The problem with trying to pin much of any characteristics to Mr. Darcy, I will admit, comes from the fact that we learn things mostly from Elizabeth Bennet's point of view. And her view is limited, partly by her own pride and partly from her not being present for so much of the backstory of the Darcy family and their dealings with George Wickham. Which is not to say that the book Elizabeth is an unreliable narrator (nor the video Lizzie), but that we only learn things as she learns them. We don't know what Bingley (or Bing Lee, in general) thinks of Darcy. We don't know how much of his initial insults of Miss Bennet stem from being shy or introverted and being forced into conversations and dealings with all manner of people when he's not ready for it. He does seem, in the books, more comfortable in Bingley's house (even with Jane and Elizabeth there). Anyone who might have slowly warmed up to him the first time they read the book might warm up to him faster the second time around when seeing his attempts at showing Elizabeth his warming interest.

I will admit that The Lizzie Bennet Diaries does end without anyone married or engaged, but Bing Lee and Jane are dating and seem to be moving towards that and Darcy and Lizzie are dating with potential for future marriage. Lydia is single and trying to figure out what to do with herself, after her disastrous relationship with George Wickham (and her videos show, even before the relationship, how much the Lydia in the videos is trying to hide her loneliness and fear of losing her sisters behind a party girl attitude, which was her armor).

I don't know what Jane Austen would think of her characters being portrayed like they are in the videos. I would hope that she would enjoy it, even with some interesting changes. I know that I did.

Monday, September 12, 2016

Vulnerability

I have been watching some Ted Talks lately. Brené Brown has a couple of them, talking about vulnerability. And Glennon Doyle Melton talked about her past, sharing her vulnerability.

And it amazes me how much people try to numb themselves. Not that I don't understand the desire. I've felt those scary lows. Deeply. Intimately. And I know how bad they hurt and how much you start wondering if this is your new normal. That is, when depression isn't numbing me to nearly everything.

But you can't just numb the lows. You would numb all the highs, and I wouldn't give those up for anything. As bad as depression is, as bad as some of my life experiences have been (and I'm not ready to talk about them yet), I know that numbing the pain won't work.

That doesn't mean I've not done something to help in those bad times. Chocolate is helpful in keeping depression from fully taking over or pulling me away from the edge sometimes. My husband is even better at helping.

But I don't want to dim my life because I'm afraid of the lows. I don't want to miss the highs. I'd rather be vulnerable.

I'm pretty sure that I would probably find it easy to get addicted, if I let myself. (Sometimes it's a good thing to be a bit of a control freak.) But the lack of control, the lack of being able to think clearly, would spiral me further into panic.

So, I don't numb myself. I remain vulnerable. I keep my heart tender. And I suffer from people being stupid. But I get to feel joy at the idea of my sister's wedding (later this month). I get to rejoice at how precious my niece is (My sister had a baby nearly a year ago!). I get to be present and smile and laugh and cry and hurt. And I don't have to fight to figure out how to get past all those long ignored emotions to be here.

I don't proclaim myself better than anyone else. I'm just doing my best. I'm trying to figure out my next right thing. I have hardly any of the answers.

But I do know that numb is not the way to go through life.

(At some point, I will post about something positive. I just don't know when that will be. I seem to be working through some things.)

Sunday, September 11, 2016

Let's Be Honest Here

Note: I haven't posted in forever, I know. I don't even know what I last wrote about, and I know at one point I promised funny stories about trucking. This is not that post. I don't know if that post will ever exist, because sometimes that is how my life goes. I have these good intentions, and then other things become urgent and important (not the same thing, by the way) and they take over everything. (End random semi-explanation, start actual post)

I'm getting more honest with myself. We were watching a documentary on Netflix about Tony Robbins (called Tony Robbins: I Am Not Your Guru). I realized that if I had been there, the biggest thing I want to change in my life does not have to do with our finances (even though I want them to change) or the fact that we are still not parents yet (I realized how much of a blessing that has been the last few years, even though I've been wanting to be a mom through them all). The biggest thing I want to change in my life is to stop hating myself.

I don't always hate myself. In fact, I'm often fond of me. I know I have my issues, but I am working on them. I am not just settling and declaring myself done with growing.

But then there are those days. The ones that I spend the whole day wanting to go lay back down because being upright is just so pointless. The ones where I feel like I can do nothing right and all the mistakes I've made in the past two or three years come back to haunt me. And the memories won't shut up. Depression tries to come back.

And on those days, I hate myself. For feeling week enough to believe the lies that depression makes. For believing the harmful things that my mother said so many years ago are things that are still true. For not loving myself enough.

I don't want to hurt myself, even on those bad days. But depression isn't about physical pain, although there is usually some of that with the emotional pain. I just want to lay down and not move, because it feels like there is no point.

I am thankful for my husband, who doesn't let me dwell in the pain and spiraling lies. He brings me food and does whatever he can to make me laugh. He hugs me and gives me the love I can't seem to give myself. He won't leave me alone in my pain, which is the best thing for me, despite depression telling me that I don't deserve these things.

I want to stop hating myself. I want to love me, even on bad days. If I do, maybe they won't be so bad. I want to know, without a doubt, that I am better than all those bad thoughts tell me I am. And most days, I do feel that way. And I am so thankful for that.

I am stronger than I think.

And so are you.

Friday, February 6, 2015

A Modest Post

Today, I'm going to talk about modesty. Which almost makes me want to roll my eyes because why is this something to have to write about?

(I will post weird stories from the road sometime... I'm just not sure when.)

Recently (meaning in the last two weeks), I've read two different blog posts and an article on modesty. The article was about one of the blog posts. They were all fairly reasonable statements about modesty and all of them coming from a Christan basis. Apparently, there was a big uproar about them online. Which strikes me as stupid, because most of the people complaining were probably not the intended audience.

One of the blog posts was about the author's decision to stop wearing leggings as pants outside her house unless her shirt covered her behind. To help Christian men to not have as big a problem with lust. She wasn't necessarily trying to tell everyone else what to do or that they should wear clothes that are a size too big and cover from neck to knee at minimum. Just that maybe wearing leggings as pants is not the best thing for a modest woman to do. She put it on her blog to encourage accountability, most likely. To help her keep to her new decision. It was something she had been thinking about and struggling with for a bit and finally decided and shared her decision. It was a nice post that reminded me as a Christian that I am accountable for my intentions behind my clothes and caused me to think about my wardrobe for about 5 minutes before remembering that I'm actually a fairly modest dresser naturally and that, other than one t-shirt, most of my shirts come to at least below the waist (that one comes down to the waistband of my pants) and that I plan on replacing it later this year, before I'm likely to wear it.

The article I mentioned was based off that blog post. About how people need to calm down and carefully read that this woman was talking about changing her own behavior. And to not give her grief about following her own morals about modest dressing.

The other blog post was written by the mom of teen boys. She was writing to teen girls about appropriate pictures to take and post on FaceBook. She and her husband monitor what their boys can see and will weed out female friends of their sons if they are wearing immodest clothing. Her main point was that posting pictures in pajamas from their room was not becoming and that it will get them dropped and don't they want their future husbands to think of them as being modest. I struggled more with this blog post, because I see both sides better. This was not someone talking about their own behavior only, but about what they feel other's should do. But I understand, from a Christian standpoint, what they meant. The pictures may have been less modest than should be shared on FaceBook or anywhere online.

I found that post based off a link that briefly mentioned that she should be teaching her sons that they are responsible for their own thoughts. And there is some truth to that, but I understand wanting to help them by removing a source of potential temptation to sin. It's not a bad thing to remind people that their actions have consequences, even if the consequences are as simple as being unfriended for posting less modest pictures.

The thing is, I'm not anyone else's voice of morality at this point. I just have me, and only slightly Ace when he is really tired, to concern myself with. I don't have to tell a daughter that her clothes are immodest or tell a son that he needs to not think lustfully after someone just because of what they are wearing. I can understand both sides of the conflict that is in people's heads. I don't have the right to tell you what to do. But I also need to take my actions and intentions to heart when I make decisions based on what I wear.

As I said, I'm a fairly modest dresser. Right now, I'm wearing jeans and a long sleeve shirt, with a pair of exercise pants under the jeans and a hoodie over the shirt (It's cold outside, so I layer to stay warm). Tomorrow, I'll go without the exercise pants. The hoodies are a most of the year thing, dropped completely only in summer, and still with one not too far away because I get cold long before my husband. My hoodies are not really all that form fitted, even if the shirts under are somewhat. Until I finally get around to having breast reduction surgery (because I doubt that I can just lose enough weight to drop my bra size down to a reasonable size), there will be no questions about my gender from the front. 38H is just too large to hide. And I'm currently just grabbing appropriately sized shirts from Walmart to replace my old ones, so the shirts will mostly be snugger than the older ones (I may grab some of the more fun ones from the men's department next time, because I want fun shirts).

I don't generally flaunt my body to anyone but my husband. But I don't try to hide it all away either. I'm much more likely to go for comfort over tight fit. Because I don't want to feel uncomfortable all day. I've always gone for comfort first. That's why I wear sneakers or flats if I have to dress up. Because I'll whine if I'm uncomfortable. Thankfully, comfortable clothes are generally fairly modest. I do have a couple of shirts that show cleavage, but unless you are looking over my shoulder, you shouldn't see that much. And if you are, why are you looking over my shoulder? (Not you, Ace. I know why you are looking over my shoulder.)

What you decide to do when it comes to clothes is not really my business. But, if you are Christian, please keep in mind that the Bible tells us not to be a stumbling block to other Christians. If that means you stop wearing leggings as pants without long shirts, then that's not generally that big of a thing to give up. If that means you wear shirts that are less cleavage bearing, go you. I'll support you in that. But if you aren't Christian, you've got to figure out your own moral compass. I would suggest that leggings as pants are probably not the best plan, but that's up to you.

These thoughts are by no means my only ones, but they are the only ones I feel comfortable sharing.

P.S.: Sorry for the title. Unless it made you smile.

Monday, September 29, 2014

Spam Is Sometimes Hilarious

First, without comment, the spam email.

Subject: WE NEED A SOLID PROVE FROM YOU TO ENABLE US RELEASE YOUR FUND.
Date: 2014-06-03 07:35
From: "Federal bureau of investigation"
To:
Reply-To:



Anti-Terrorist and Monetary Crimes Division
FBI headquarters in Washington , D.C.
Federal bureau of investigation
J. Edgar Hoover building
935 Pennsylvania Avenue, NW Washington , D.C. 20535-0001
Ref: FBI/DC/25/014.


Attention: Fund Beneficiary,


This is an official advice from the FBI foreign remittance/telegraphic dept. it has come to our notice that bank of Nigeria has released 10,500,000.00 U.S dollars into bank of America in your name as the beneficiary, by Inheritance means. The bank of Nigeria knowing fully well that they do not have enough facilities to affect this payment from the United Kingdom to your account, used what we know as a secret diplomatic transit payment (S.T.D.P) to pay this fund through wire transfer, they used this means to complete the payment.


They are still waiting for confirmation from you on the already transferred funds,which were made in direct transfer so that they can do final crediting to your account. Secret diplomatic payments are not made unless the funds are related to terrorist activities why must your payment be made in secret transfer, if your transaction is legitimate, if you are not a terrorist, then why did you not receive the money directly into your account? This is a pure coded means of payment which we have had in the past has always been related to terrorist acts, we do not want you to get into trouble as soon as these funds reflect in your account, so it is our duty as a world wide commission to correct this little problem before this fund will be credited into your personal account.


Due to the increased difficulty and unnecessary scrutiny by the UK/USA authorities when funds come from outside of America , and the Middle East , the F.B.I crime commission has stopped the transfer on its way to deliver payment of $10.500.00 through a secured diplomatic transit, account (S.D.T.A). We govern and oversee funds Transfer for the World Bank and the rest of the world. We advice you contact us immediately, as the funds have been stopped and are being held in our custody until you can be able to provide us with a diplomatic immunity seal of transfer (dist) within 3 days from the world local bank that authorize the transfer to certify that the funds that you are about to receive from Nigeria are terrorist/drug free else we shall have cause to cross and impound the payment, however, we shall release the funds immediately we receive this legal documents.


We have decided to contact you directly to acquire the proper verifications and proof from you to show that you are the rightful person to receive this fund, because of the amount involved, we want to make sure that the legitimacy of the fund you are about to receive is not in doubt whatsoever. Note!! The fund is in the Bank of America right now, but we have ask them not to credit the fund to you yet, because we need a solid proof and verifications from you before releasing the funds, to this regards, you are to re-assure and proof to us that what you are about to receive is clean and legitimate by sending to us FBI Identification Record and also Diplomatic Immunity Seal Of Transfer (DIST) to certify that the fund is not for terrorism/money laundering. You are to forward the documents to us immediately if you have it in your possession, if you do not have it, let us know so that we can direct you where to get it.


These Documents are to be issued to you from the World Local Bank that Authorized the transfer, so get back to us immediately if you don't have the document so that we will inform you the particular place to obtain the document because we have come to realize that the fund was Authorized by the bank that initialized the transfer Identification Record and Diplomatic Immunity Seal Of Transfer (DIST) often referred to as a Criminal History Record or Rap Sheet, is a listing of certain information taken from fingerprint submissions retained by the FBI in connection with arrests and, in some instances, federal employment, Naturalization or military service. These conditions is Valid until 9th of June 2014 after we shall take actions on canceling the payment and then charge you for illegally moving funds out of Nigeria.



Guarantee: funds will be released on confirmation of the document.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Final instruction:

60fCredit payment instruction: irrevocable credit guarantee
61eBeneficiary has full power when validation is cleared
62 Beneficiaries bank in USA/outside can only release funds-
62 Upon confirmation from the world bank/united nations.
64 Bearers must clear bank protocol and validation request
NOTE: We have asked for the above documents to make available the most complete and up-to date records possible for the enhancement of public safety welfare and security of Society while recognizing the importance of individual privacy rights. If you fail to provide the Documents to us, we will charge you and take our proper action against you for not proofing to us the legitimacy of the fund you are about to receive.

The United States Department of Justice Order 556-73 establishes rules and regulations for the subject of an FBI Identification Record to obtain a copy of his or her own Record for review. The FBI Criminal Justice Information Services (CJIS)Division processes these requests to check illegal activities in U.S and outside. An individual may request a copy of his or her own FBI Identification record for personal review or to challenge information on the Record. Other reasons,individual may request a copy of his or her own Identification Record may include international adoption or to satisfy a requirement to live or work in a foreign country or receive funds from another country (i.e., Diplomatic Immunity Seal Of Transfer, letter of good conduct, criminal history background, etc.).


FBI Director
James B. Comey.


And now for the explanation as to why it's funny.

In April of this year, I started driving a truck. The company Ace and I drive for requires us to have a TWIC (Transportation Worker Identification Credential) card. I had to undergo a background check from the FBI to insure that I am not a terrorist or a wanted criminal or a lunatic. There were fingerprints and it cost over $100. I passed the background check in two days and then spent two months waiting for my card to be printed (Ace got his in a week 6 months earlier. They changed something right around the time I applied for my card, which caused delays. That's the government for you.)

So, imagine how much I laughed at being told that I have cleared the background check by the FBI by the TSA and that I am considered a terrorist by the FBI in a spam email.

This, like taking cheese to Wisconsin, will never stop being funny to me.

P.S.: I have my TWIC card now and we almost never go anywhere that it's needed. I'm about half disappointed about that.

Tuesday, September 23, 2014

Random Thoughts No One Else Probably Cares About

I still suck at this posting more than once in a blue moon thing. Sorry. I hadn't quite realized how long it had been since I had posted.

Since I don't really have much in the way of coherent thoughts right now, here is a random list of what is on my mind.

1. Some people are really good at circumventing the rules. Sometimes it's impressive. Sometimes it's bad. (Ace is reading me a follow up article about a kid who got suspended for selling full sugar Pepsi. The kid figured out how to keep selling the soft drinks without breaking the rules.)

2. Why are we, as a society, so hung up about gender and what people have in their pants? Does it matter if I'm female or male to anyone other than Ace and me? Should it?

3. Did I use proper grammar in that last point? Should it have been Ace and I instead of Ace and me?

4. I need to post that email that made me laugh sometime. With the explanation as to why it was so funny.

5. Ace and I traded trucks. We love our new one, even if there are a few things we don't love about it it. It is so much better than the last truck. (I can drive this one without messing up my hip!)

6. I should post about weird/random/whatever things I've seen since I've started driving. (I have a weird story about a wheel. Short, but weird.)

7. Today kind of sucked. But we made it through the day without crashing the truck or yelling at anyone.

8. I had to pay a quarter to use a bathroom that didn't even have soap or paper towels (or a hand dryer) to clean my hands. That sucks.

9. I'm glad people are talking about depression and not just ignoring it. Why do we stigmatize mental illnesses? Are we afraid they are contagious?

10. I don't have a ten, I just like even numbers.

My brain is kind of active lately. But now I think it's time for a nap. Hopefully I'll get back soon with those posts.

Tuesday, August 12, 2014

Suicide Is Hardly Painless

I know it's been forever since I last posted. Sorry about that. Things have changed some, and I'm now driving (at least sometimes) and that has lead to being more tired and less inclined to write. I'm also less inclined to read as much. It's making me sad. That, however, is not the point of this post.

I want to talk about my theory of suicide. (Robin Williams is still having a profound effect. Hopefully people will get help instead of following the leader.) If that bothers you, sorry. Hopefully I'll post something less emotionally traumatizing soon after this. You might want to skip this post if you are fighting that fight, although I'm not really planning on going into hows as much as whys.

I have a friend who posted a link on FaceBook about depression. And it got me thinking, once I got past my emotional first reaction of finding depression entirely too close for comfort.

I used to believe, back before I ever fought depression, that suicide was selfish. I was a stupid teenager who wondered how someone suicidal didn't see the impact on their loved ones who were left to mourn the loss. I didn't understand that sometimes people are just pushed to the edge of what they can handle and the lack of hope is the final straw. I did understand that as bad as things seemed, ending my own life would never seem likely a good solution, because I'm probably more scared of the potential physical pain than I am of finding a way to just keep going. I'm kind of wired oddly sometimes, but it works well for me in the long run.

Today, I saw much more clearly that suicide is much more about someone who couldn't hold on any more. The pain and rawness of depression are too much. The numbness seems unending. The lies of depression seem too believable. The self-loathing is too acute and the belief that no one else cares seems too real. You know that it's not true, but you just can't fight any more.

I'm still not the kind of person to attempt suicide. I'd rather just hide from society and just not move until something motivates me enough. I struggled two years ago with depression crippling enough that I wasn't eating right and couldn't find it in me to want to do anything about it. But I found the motivation to go shopping once a week and go to a prayer team once a week and to do the minimum that I needed to not become one with the bed. It was horrible, because I just felt so bad and I wasn't sure how I was going to be okay again. And then, it got better.

But it helps me understand better why someone might give up. When 3 steps is too far for food, you learn things about yourself. And they aren't pretty things.

I survived. I've not had anything even remotely as bad as that happen again.

We are, all of us, more than our weakest moments.

Even when we fail to make it through those moments.

If you are depressed, please find help. I should have. I wish I did. I wish I could have. I'm thankful that my will to survive was stronger than my lack of motivation. I am willing to listen/read. I don't have answers for you, but sometimes just sharing with someone helps. If I'm not your cup of tea, please find someone who is. There are plenty of people out there willing to help. And not all of them require making a phone call. (Sorry, my own weird phone phobia is slipping in.)

And remember, please, that you are more than your weakest moments. It does, eventually, get better. Depression lies. And someone does love you.

Thanks.