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.
Showing posts with label learning about me. Show all posts
Showing posts with label learning about me. Show all posts
Sunday, August 13, 2017
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.
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.
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?
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?
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.
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.
(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.
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.
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.
Tuesday, January 14, 2014
(I'm) Colorful
I once had someone tell me that she liked my clothes because I wore lots of colored shirts and she had gotten in the habit of only wearing black and white shirts because of something her ex-mother-in-law had said. That's been in my mind lately, for a good reason.
This past weekend, Ace and I were off the truck for some home time. Which in this case was us sitting in a hotel about three miles from his company's yard and trying to relax/get some things accomplished. One if the things we did was buy me some new clothes. It's been a while since I've done more than replace socks, jeans, shoes, and underwear. My long sleeve shirts show that they've been worn for most of the last decade.
Most of my shirts are very colorful. I like wearing bright, somewhat bold colors. Not because I just love being looked at, but because I like color. Despite the colorful clothes, I usually do a good job of blending into the background when I want. I am content with this, because I usually prefer not being the center of attention. But I like colors and I'm not afraid to wear them.
This extends to nail polish, when I actually wear it. I usually don't wear nail polish, mostly because I'm too lazy to mess with it most of the time and partially because I get annoyed when it starts chipping (which is always way to quickly for my tastes). But when I do go for nail polish, it isn't usually in pinks or reds. I like blue or green or purple or black (from time to time on the black).
One of the things I got was a second hoodie. The one I've been wearing for the last several years is grey. It's a nice, neutral color and I know it goes with everything. My new hoodie is green. It's bold and probably will clash with something at some point, but so far it's been fine (of course, so far I haven't worn red). It's mostly for me to wear when I need to wash the grey hoodie. But I kind of like the bolder color. It's nice in a different sort of sense.
I am M.A. Smith, and I like bold colors. And that is awesome.
This past weekend, Ace and I were off the truck for some home time. Which in this case was us sitting in a hotel about three miles from his company's yard and trying to relax/get some things accomplished. One if the things we did was buy me some new clothes. It's been a while since I've done more than replace socks, jeans, shoes, and underwear. My long sleeve shirts show that they've been worn for most of the last decade.
Most of my shirts are very colorful. I like wearing bright, somewhat bold colors. Not because I just love being looked at, but because I like color. Despite the colorful clothes, I usually do a good job of blending into the background when I want. I am content with this, because I usually prefer not being the center of attention. But I like colors and I'm not afraid to wear them.
This extends to nail polish, when I actually wear it. I usually don't wear nail polish, mostly because I'm too lazy to mess with it most of the time and partially because I get annoyed when it starts chipping (which is always way to quickly for my tastes). But when I do go for nail polish, it isn't usually in pinks or reds. I like blue or green or purple or black (from time to time on the black).
One of the things I got was a second hoodie. The one I've been wearing for the last several years is grey. It's a nice, neutral color and I know it goes with everything. My new hoodie is green. It's bold and probably will clash with something at some point, but so far it's been fine (of course, so far I haven't worn red). It's mostly for me to wear when I need to wash the grey hoodie. But I kind of like the bolder color. It's nice in a different sort of sense.
I am M.A. Smith, and I like bold colors. And that is awesome.
Monday, December 2, 2013
15 Semi-Christmasy Facts About Me
It's December, which means it's getting closer to Christmas. In the spirit of sharing, I am going to share 15 random things about me that are related to Christmas. Because I like to challenge myself, apparently.
1. I like any type of Christmas song, as opposed to the rest of the year when I seem to almost single mindedly listen to country and little else. In fact, the only song I've found I don't like is Madonna's version of Santa Baby. Give me Eartha Kitt over Madonna any day.
2. My favorite Christmas special is Frosty the Snowman. I have no idea why, but it's the one I like the most.
3. It doesn't feel like Christmas time until I've heard "I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas". The morning radio show I spent most of my teenage years listening to played it every December. (One of my cousins once asked for a hippopotamus for Christmas, but she was happy for it to be a stuffed one. We found one.)
4. I know all the words to the B.C. Clark jingle. It's a jewelry store in Oklahoma City, and they have their own Christmas/anniversary jingle. I've never been to one of their stores.
5. I will happily spend a month watching TV specials I've seen 20+ times before. I'm kind of sad that I've not gotten to do that the past few years.
6. While I could easily listen to Christmas music almost non-stop (with enough variety), I understand that it would drive my husband crazy, so I only listen as reasonably possible.
7. Even though I haven't believed in Santa bringing me gifts since I was 10, I still find myself believing in Santa during the holiday specials.
8. I would love to have a white Christmas.
9. I love picking out gifts for people. I hate not knowing what people would like.
10. When I have a tree, it will be covered in a fairly eclectic mix of ornaments. I've already started looking up ornaments online to find ones I like.
11. I prefer the multi-color lights to the plain white ones. Christmas lights should be colorful, in my opinion. (Although, I have seen some lovely houses that just used white lights for decorating.)
12. While I believe that Christmas doesn't start until after Thanksgiving, I'd prefer to wait another week or two after that to put up a tree.
13. Last year, Ace and I gifted ourselves with a GPS for our truck. It's been one of the best investments we've made.
14. Last year was the first time Ace and I were apart on Christmas since we got married.
15. I'm not sure what our plans are for this Christmas, but it's looking likely that we'll be on the road.
Well, that ended up kind of maudlin. I apologize for that.
1. I like any type of Christmas song, as opposed to the rest of the year when I seem to almost single mindedly listen to country and little else. In fact, the only song I've found I don't like is Madonna's version of Santa Baby. Give me Eartha Kitt over Madonna any day.
2. My favorite Christmas special is Frosty the Snowman. I have no idea why, but it's the one I like the most.
3. It doesn't feel like Christmas time until I've heard "I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas". The morning radio show I spent most of my teenage years listening to played it every December. (One of my cousins once asked for a hippopotamus for Christmas, but she was happy for it to be a stuffed one. We found one.)
4. I know all the words to the B.C. Clark jingle. It's a jewelry store in Oklahoma City, and they have their own Christmas/anniversary jingle. I've never been to one of their stores.
5. I will happily spend a month watching TV specials I've seen 20+ times before. I'm kind of sad that I've not gotten to do that the past few years.
6. While I could easily listen to Christmas music almost non-stop (with enough variety), I understand that it would drive my husband crazy, so I only listen as reasonably possible.
7. Even though I haven't believed in Santa bringing me gifts since I was 10, I still find myself believing in Santa during the holiday specials.
8. I would love to have a white Christmas.
9. I love picking out gifts for people. I hate not knowing what people would like.
10. When I have a tree, it will be covered in a fairly eclectic mix of ornaments. I've already started looking up ornaments online to find ones I like.
11. I prefer the multi-color lights to the plain white ones. Christmas lights should be colorful, in my opinion. (Although, I have seen some lovely houses that just used white lights for decorating.)
12. While I believe that Christmas doesn't start until after Thanksgiving, I'd prefer to wait another week or two after that to put up a tree.
13. Last year, Ace and I gifted ourselves with a GPS for our truck. It's been one of the best investments we've made.
14. Last year was the first time Ace and I were apart on Christmas since we got married.
15. I'm not sure what our plans are for this Christmas, but it's looking likely that we'll be on the road.
Well, that ended up kind of maudlin. I apologize for that.
Sunday, November 17, 2013
I'm Not So Superficial (Any More)
I kind of understand why we judge people, in general, on stupid surface things like looks, what music they listen to, what clothes they wear, what kind of car they drive, what their occupation is. It's a quick way to start sorting out whether or not we'd be friends.
But it drives me crazy. The people I've found with the biggest hearts and that I care about the most are the people I know little to nothing about most of those things. I, obviously, can know what they look like and what they wear, but I may not know much else. And none of that really matters to me.
Having money to buy expensive clothes or cars does not mean you have a heart that cares for others. Wearing jeans and a t-shirt and driving a car that looks like it needs a paint job does not mean that you don't care about anyone. Sometimes it just means that you've had some hard times and this is what you have right now.
When I was in 4th-6th grades, I had some fairly close friends that weren't popular. Sadly, I lost touch with them after 6th grade, so I have no idea where they are now, but they were better friends to me than I probably deserved. I loved them with all my heart, except when I got asked why I was friends with them by the popular kids. And then I was a bad friend and dropped them like a hot potato. And they kept forgiving me and taking me back when I pulled my head out of wherever I had stuck it and went back to actually being friends with my friends (usually within a few days). I feel terrible about it now. At the time, I just wanted to maybe be popular (because I was kind of stupid about what being popular meant).
But I had gravitated toward people with big hearts and lots of love and forgiveness for someone who was kind of stupid despite being so smart. People who believed in me and were fun to be around. And that shaped me, even when I was being stupid.
So now, I don't really focus much on what people wear, or what they drive, or what their favorite things are. At least not for judging if they would be good friends. Because I had friends that looked past any of that while I was learning that people who care about you are worth far more than people that sort of like you. Because I'd rather judge my friends by the content of their hearts than their interests. Because I can find people who are amazing and who bless my life by being in it without needing to share interests in tv or movies.
Part of that lesson came when in 7th or 8th grade I had a "friend" who one day just decided that she didn't like me any more. And then a few days later, she liked me again. But I was shut out of most of my group of friends because one girl didn't like me for no apparent reason. And I think it helped me realize what a bad friend I had been in the past. I gave that friend a second chance, but the friendship wasn't as close and when she decided that she didn't like me for no apparent reason again, I just gave up on the friendship. Not quite as forgiving as my friends a few years earlier had been (the time frame on my random self-conscious idiocy was closer to once a year, not twice in as many months, which probably helped them too). But I had already started figuring out who were the type of people that would care about me vs caring about themselves.
So, now a days, I try to not judge someone by superficial means. I am by no means perfect, but I'm getting better at it.
I hope to teach my children this without them having to go through what I did. I'd prefer their stupid decisions to be about something less likely to hurt people, especially the ones who truly care about them.
And to those friends, I apologize. I'm not sure I did that adequately when we were younger. You deserved someone being your friend who didn't randomly get ashamed about superficial things. I wish I had done better at that. Thank you so much for being willing to forgive me. I got better, but I never forgot that I was that person. I hope you found better friends as you grew up. Ones that didn't do what I did. Ones who loved you because of who you were and are. Ones who wanted good things for you. Thank you for believing in me enough to forgive me.
But it drives me crazy. The people I've found with the biggest hearts and that I care about the most are the people I know little to nothing about most of those things. I, obviously, can know what they look like and what they wear, but I may not know much else. And none of that really matters to me.
Having money to buy expensive clothes or cars does not mean you have a heart that cares for others. Wearing jeans and a t-shirt and driving a car that looks like it needs a paint job does not mean that you don't care about anyone. Sometimes it just means that you've had some hard times and this is what you have right now.
When I was in 4th-6th grades, I had some fairly close friends that weren't popular. Sadly, I lost touch with them after 6th grade, so I have no idea where they are now, but they were better friends to me than I probably deserved. I loved them with all my heart, except when I got asked why I was friends with them by the popular kids. And then I was a bad friend and dropped them like a hot potato. And they kept forgiving me and taking me back when I pulled my head out of wherever I had stuck it and went back to actually being friends with my friends (usually within a few days). I feel terrible about it now. At the time, I just wanted to maybe be popular (because I was kind of stupid about what being popular meant).
But I had gravitated toward people with big hearts and lots of love and forgiveness for someone who was kind of stupid despite being so smart. People who believed in me and were fun to be around. And that shaped me, even when I was being stupid.
So now, I don't really focus much on what people wear, or what they drive, or what their favorite things are. At least not for judging if they would be good friends. Because I had friends that looked past any of that while I was learning that people who care about you are worth far more than people that sort of like you. Because I'd rather judge my friends by the content of their hearts than their interests. Because I can find people who are amazing and who bless my life by being in it without needing to share interests in tv or movies.
Part of that lesson came when in 7th or 8th grade I had a "friend" who one day just decided that she didn't like me any more. And then a few days later, she liked me again. But I was shut out of most of my group of friends because one girl didn't like me for no apparent reason. And I think it helped me realize what a bad friend I had been in the past. I gave that friend a second chance, but the friendship wasn't as close and when she decided that she didn't like me for no apparent reason again, I just gave up on the friendship. Not quite as forgiving as my friends a few years earlier had been (the time frame on my random self-conscious idiocy was closer to once a year, not twice in as many months, which probably helped them too). But I had already started figuring out who were the type of people that would care about me vs caring about themselves.
So, now a days, I try to not judge someone by superficial means. I am by no means perfect, but I'm getting better at it.
I hope to teach my children this without them having to go through what I did. I'd prefer their stupid decisions to be about something less likely to hurt people, especially the ones who truly care about them.
And to those friends, I apologize. I'm not sure I did that adequately when we were younger. You deserved someone being your friend who didn't randomly get ashamed about superficial things. I wish I had done better at that. Thank you so much for being willing to forgive me. I got better, but I never forgot that I was that person. I hope you found better friends as you grew up. Ones that didn't do what I did. Ones who loved you because of who you were and are. Ones who wanted good things for you. Thank you for believing in me enough to forgive me.
Wednesday, July 10, 2013
Studying, But Not What I Expected to Be Studying
Well, I am obviously not getting any better about remembering to post while we are on the road. But, I have a good reason lately. I've been working on a project that spawned a second project.
It started like this: I was listening to a sermon that we had playing overnight. It woke me up, and I was awake, so I had little else better to do. In it, the teacher was talking about how his mother had typed up scriptures for the teacher and his wife to stand on when they were believing God for a child. And I thought, "I should look up scriptures to do that." So, I started doing that.
Well, then we took a week's vacation and I relaxed and didn't work on the list. But when we got back on the truck, I started back up. And then I saw a verse that I know I've read before, but it didn't quite hit me the way it did this time I read it. It was Colossians 3:21 and in the Amplified, it reads as "Fathers, do not provoke or irritate or fret your children [do not be hard on them or harass them], lest they become discouraged and sullen and morose and feel inferior and frustrated. [Do not break their spirit.]"
So, I looked up all the things not to do to children and how they would become and feel if you did those things. Because words are important, and I wanted to clearly understand what God meant by that. And that lead me to I Corinthians 13:4-8, which is all about love. And I realized that we are supposed to be parents that live what is said about love, which would avoid all of those things.
Basically, I seem to be starting to get a lesson about parenting together, which will hopefully lead back to me getting together my list of scriptures on parenting. (In other news, I know at least one thing that God is obviously gearing me up for, at some point.
So, yeah. I'm over here (and there but maybe not there) doing research about parenting. (No, I'm not currently pregnant. I'm just finishing up my period, thanks for asking.) If nothing else, I should be well prepared when I do become a mother. But the timing seems to be right for doing all this research and getting this information together.
Nicely, I have at least one ministry that I've got CDs from that I know teaches about marriage and parenting. I'll go through all my CDs and make notes soon. I am going to have lots of information on hand about children and parenting. And maybe someday, I'll be teaching others what God and others have taught me.
It started like this: I was listening to a sermon that we had playing overnight. It woke me up, and I was awake, so I had little else better to do. In it, the teacher was talking about how his mother had typed up scriptures for the teacher and his wife to stand on when they were believing God for a child. And I thought, "I should look up scriptures to do that." So, I started doing that.
Well, then we took a week's vacation and I relaxed and didn't work on the list. But when we got back on the truck, I started back up. And then I saw a verse that I know I've read before, but it didn't quite hit me the way it did this time I read it. It was Colossians 3:21 and in the Amplified, it reads as "Fathers, do not provoke or irritate or fret your children [do not be hard on them or harass them], lest they become discouraged and sullen and morose and feel inferior and frustrated. [Do not break their spirit.]"
So, I looked up all the things not to do to children and how they would become and feel if you did those things. Because words are important, and I wanted to clearly understand what God meant by that. And that lead me to I Corinthians 13:4-8, which is all about love. And I realized that we are supposed to be parents that live what is said about love, which would avoid all of those things.
Basically, I seem to be starting to get a lesson about parenting together, which will hopefully lead back to me getting together my list of scriptures on parenting. (In other news, I know at least one thing that God is obviously gearing me up for, at some point.
So, yeah. I'm over here (and there but maybe not there) doing research about parenting. (No, I'm not currently pregnant. I'm just finishing up my period, thanks for asking.) If nothing else, I should be well prepared when I do become a mother. But the timing seems to be right for doing all this research and getting this information together.
Nicely, I have at least one ministry that I've got CDs from that I know teaches about marriage and parenting. I'll go through all my CDs and make notes soon. I am going to have lots of information on hand about children and parenting. And maybe someday, I'll be teaching others what God and others have taught me.
Wednesday, May 22, 2013
My Crazy, Let Me Show You It
I have a really strange mind sometimes. I say this with no pride about that nor any shame. I recognize that my mind is potentially really screwed up. I blame my mother, mostly because she was so instrumental in breaking it in the first place.
I have a totally irrational fear of making phone calls. The only person I can reliably feel comfortable calling is Ace. It's crazy, because I know there are other people who would love to actually hear from me on the phone. People like my dad, who would just not answer if it was a bad time. And yet... I have been crippled at the thought of actually talking to someone that I've called. (I have no fear of answering my phone and talking, but calling someone else... I told you my mind is strange.)
I am really picky about music and shoes/socks. And sometimes food. Like insanely picky about music. Enough to annoy Ace if I were in charge of the music in the truck. And I hate wearing shoes for long periods of time. If I feel comfortable in your house, my shoes will come off. It makes shoe shopping torturous. Let's not even talk about me buying socks. The food thing is the only one that makes sense. My taste buds are really sensitive. And they don't like complex flavors for the most part. Or really strong ones. And yet, I have somehow convinced my taste buds to like licorice (black and red, because I'm just that weird).
I occasionally try to pick a fight with Ace. Without realizing that's what I'm doing, until I've said something stupid. No clue why, as I hate fighting and love Ace.
The main reason I didn't want to be an engineer: the number of hours it would take to get my degree (also, because my mother wanted me to become one). The degree I chose to get: the second highest number of hours required for getting a job (accounting, which at the time required 150 credit hours to sit for the CPA exam... don't know if that's changed).
I read about grammar for fun. I don't think I got enough knowledge of grammar in school.
This is not an exhaustive list of my bits of crazy. These are just the bits that seem important right now.
Hopefully I won't cringe and beat myself up mentally for posting this later.
I have a totally irrational fear of making phone calls. The only person I can reliably feel comfortable calling is Ace. It's crazy, because I know there are other people who would love to actually hear from me on the phone. People like my dad, who would just not answer if it was a bad time. And yet... I have been crippled at the thought of actually talking to someone that I've called. (I have no fear of answering my phone and talking, but calling someone else... I told you my mind is strange.)
I am really picky about music and shoes/socks. And sometimes food. Like insanely picky about music. Enough to annoy Ace if I were in charge of the music in the truck. And I hate wearing shoes for long periods of time. If I feel comfortable in your house, my shoes will come off. It makes shoe shopping torturous. Let's not even talk about me buying socks. The food thing is the only one that makes sense. My taste buds are really sensitive. And they don't like complex flavors for the most part. Or really strong ones. And yet, I have somehow convinced my taste buds to like licorice (black and red, because I'm just that weird).
I occasionally try to pick a fight with Ace. Without realizing that's what I'm doing, until I've said something stupid. No clue why, as I hate fighting and love Ace.
The main reason I didn't want to be an engineer: the number of hours it would take to get my degree (also, because my mother wanted me to become one). The degree I chose to get: the second highest number of hours required for getting a job (accounting, which at the time required 150 credit hours to sit for the CPA exam... don't know if that's changed).
I read about grammar for fun. I don't think I got enough knowledge of grammar in school.
This is not an exhaustive list of my bits of crazy. These are just the bits that seem important right now.
Hopefully I won't cringe and beat myself up mentally for posting this later.
Monday, April 22, 2013
I'm Not Sure Why I'm Sharing This
Sorry I disappeared again. If I had posted the last week and a half, it would probably been about the problems with the truck, which were myriad at the time and would have really been me whining again. Right now, the only thing to whine about that has to do with the truck is the smell.
Anyway, what I really want to talk about is my period. Because it's weird this month, and I don't have a doctor to talk to. So, I'm talking to the internet. I probably need help, and to stop over sharing with strangers (I didn't post about it on Facebook, because I'm classy like that).
So, while Ace and I were at the hotel in Dallas (because the truck was being worked on), I started spotting. Since I had left all my supplies on the truck (which annoyed Ace and I both), we had to go buy some. No big deal, there was a grocery store withing walking distance.
Got everything I needed and we went back to the hotel. And then, my period never quite started. Instead, it's been spotty. I feel fine, nothing hurts. But this isn't like normal (and I'll not talk about color, but that's worried me more than the spotting). And I'm trying not to go onto WebMD and freak myself out about what it could be. Because then I'll convince myself it's something serious and deadly and ahh send help! That way lies madness.
So, yeah. My body is being all mysterious and weird. And I'm trying not to freak out about it.
And why does the truck smell like rotting ham?
Maybe I should check WebMD. Just to be safe.
Nope. Not going to do it.
P.S.: I hate Ace having to drive all night after being at the yard for roughly a week. It screws up my sleep schedule for days. And makes me grouchy to boot. Send caffeine and chocolate.
Anyway, what I really want to talk about is my period. Because it's weird this month, and I don't have a doctor to talk to. So, I'm talking to the internet. I probably need help, and to stop over sharing with strangers (I didn't post about it on Facebook, because I'm classy like that).
So, while Ace and I were at the hotel in Dallas (because the truck was being worked on), I started spotting. Since I had left all my supplies on the truck (which annoyed Ace and I both), we had to go buy some. No big deal, there was a grocery store withing walking distance.
Got everything I needed and we went back to the hotel. And then, my period never quite started. Instead, it's been spotty. I feel fine, nothing hurts. But this isn't like normal (and I'll not talk about color, but that's worried me more than the spotting). And I'm trying not to go onto WebMD and freak myself out about what it could be. Because then I'll convince myself it's something serious and deadly and ahh send help! That way lies madness.
So, yeah. My body is being all mysterious and weird. And I'm trying not to freak out about it.
And why does the truck smell like rotting ham?
Maybe I should check WebMD. Just to be safe.
Nope. Not going to do it.
P.S.: I hate Ace having to drive all night after being at the yard for roughly a week. It screws up my sleep schedule for days. And makes me grouchy to boot. Send caffeine and chocolate.
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
I Am Slightly Obessed with Introversion Right Now
Okay, because my brain is obsessed with the introvert thing, and because I am currently waiting (somewhat impatiently) for Ace to drive here from NW Arkansas for us to start the whole moving our stuff around and getting me settled in with my dad for roughly the next month, I am going to talk about how cool my parents actually were when raising me. It's one of the few things I can say that was absolutely positive about my mom. Relish that, because I do.
My parents did not actually push me to be more outgoing (other than to push past that crippling shyness thing). They let me stay home and play with Barbies or read or play with Legos or whatever other thing I was interested in doing. I'm sure there was probably some part of them wondering if I should have more friends, but they let me be me.
I was never asked to be something besides myself when it came to daily interaction with the world. I was left to be my introverted self. And that was great. There was no one trying to get me to change. No one trying to tell me that my personal preference to be at home most of the time was wrong or unusual or not healthy. I was allowed to be myself and flourish in my own unique style.
I'd like to think it's because my parents are a bit more introverted. My mom seems to be. My dad seems more like an ambivert (in the middle between introverted and extroverted). It seems to have helped them be accepting of my own personal desire to have lots of time alone.
Oddly, time with Ace has never felt draining. Which is great, because I like spending time with him. This is actually great for both of us, as we are both introverts and both feel the same about our time together not being draining. Which will be really nice on a truck, as we won't really be able to get away from each other.
So, yeah. Nicely, I have not had some of the problems that other introverts have. Because my parents didn't try to force change on me. And for that, I am truly grateful. It's nice to be able to say something positive about my mom.
My parents did not actually push me to be more outgoing (other than to push past that crippling shyness thing). They let me stay home and play with Barbies or read or play with Legos or whatever other thing I was interested in doing. I'm sure there was probably some part of them wondering if I should have more friends, but they let me be me.
I was never asked to be something besides myself when it came to daily interaction with the world. I was left to be my introverted self. And that was great. There was no one trying to get me to change. No one trying to tell me that my personal preference to be at home most of the time was wrong or unusual or not healthy. I was allowed to be myself and flourish in my own unique style.
I'd like to think it's because my parents are a bit more introverted. My mom seems to be. My dad seems more like an ambivert (in the middle between introverted and extroverted). It seems to have helped them be accepting of my own personal desire to have lots of time alone.
Oddly, time with Ace has never felt draining. Which is great, because I like spending time with him. This is actually great for both of us, as we are both introverts and both feel the same about our time together not being draining. Which will be really nice on a truck, as we won't really be able to get away from each other.
So, yeah. Nicely, I have not had some of the problems that other introverts have. Because my parents didn't try to force change on me. And for that, I am truly grateful. It's nice to be able to say something positive about my mom.
Monday, December 3, 2012
Introvert and Shy
I'm sure, if I searched my archives, I'd find where I've talked about this before. But I'm somewhat lazy and I don't want to search to see what I've said about it in the past.
Here's a not so deep or dark confession: I am an introvert. Shocking, I know. I have a blog, where I post anonymously, and over-share sometimes. Who would have pegged a person to do that as an introvert? (Okay, everybody probably would.)
In addition to being an introvert, I am sometimes shy. There is a difference. I know when it's shyness who suddenly rears it's head. I feel awkward and uncomfortable and like people are going to judge me harshly for doing basically anything other than leaving. Shyness sucks. It makes being around people painful for no adequate reason.
Being an introvert means that I prefer to stay home. It means I prefer to be quiet. It means that I have more energy when I'm not around people. It means that I prefer groups of two or three. I feel like you can have a party with 4 people. It means that I can go to larger gatherings, and I'll feel tired after about 2 hours and be ready to go home. Even if I'm having a good time.
Being an introvert can mean having a lack of social skills, but not always. I can usually handle myself fairly well in social situations. Not perfectly, because I can be awkward even without my shyness kicking in. But, in general, I am fairly decent at making small talk (I don't love it, but I can do it).
I'm not sure if it's shyness or introversion that has me posting anonymously. It's probably some part of each one.
I know that no one is a pure introvert or extrovert. I am strongly, solidly, in the introvert column. I almost always hate being in the spot light. Almost always. There are exceptions, but they are rare. Most of them include only being around family.
There is plenty of information out there about introverts. I urge everyone to look and find out more about us. If you are an introvert, it'll help you understand yourself. If you are an extrovert, it'll help you understand the introverts in your life (and yes, you do have some in your life, somewhere).
I'm sure I'll be back with more info about introverts. It's a subject that interests me. Things like: Introverts prefer to write to communicate. That right there explains so much about my life. So much.
Here's a not so deep or dark confession: I am an introvert. Shocking, I know. I have a blog, where I post anonymously, and over-share sometimes. Who would have pegged a person to do that as an introvert? (Okay, everybody probably would.)
In addition to being an introvert, I am sometimes shy. There is a difference. I know when it's shyness who suddenly rears it's head. I feel awkward and uncomfortable and like people are going to judge me harshly for doing basically anything other than leaving. Shyness sucks. It makes being around people painful for no adequate reason.
Being an introvert means that I prefer to stay home. It means I prefer to be quiet. It means that I have more energy when I'm not around people. It means that I prefer groups of two or three. I feel like you can have a party with 4 people. It means that I can go to larger gatherings, and I'll feel tired after about 2 hours and be ready to go home. Even if I'm having a good time.
Being an introvert can mean having a lack of social skills, but not always. I can usually handle myself fairly well in social situations. Not perfectly, because I can be awkward even without my shyness kicking in. But, in general, I am fairly decent at making small talk (I don't love it, but I can do it).
I'm not sure if it's shyness or introversion that has me posting anonymously. It's probably some part of each one.
I know that no one is a pure introvert or extrovert. I am strongly, solidly, in the introvert column. I almost always hate being in the spot light. Almost always. There are exceptions, but they are rare. Most of them include only being around family.
There is plenty of information out there about introverts. I urge everyone to look and find out more about us. If you are an introvert, it'll help you understand yourself. If you are an extrovert, it'll help you understand the introverts in your life (and yes, you do have some in your life, somewhere).
I'm sure I'll be back with more info about introverts. It's a subject that interests me. Things like: Introverts prefer to write to communicate. That right there explains so much about my life. So much.
Thursday, November 22, 2012
Happy Thanksgiving
In addition to my NaBloPoMo post, I wanted to post to say Happy Thanksgiving.
I hope you have a safe and happy Thanksgiving. If you are traveling this weekend, I hope you stay safe and watch out for animals. One person I care having a near run in with a deer is enough for me. And I do care.
I hope that you get to celebrate with people you love. I wish I was getting to celebrate with my loved ones. Unfortunately, I am celebrating with Ace's family (on Saturday). This provides a conundrum as I am not feeling particularly thankful for that celebration. How does one celebrate being thankful when one is not feeling thankful?
This is the first year I've had to celebrate with Ace's family without Ace being here. In fact, this is the first celebration I've had without Ace since we've been married. I miss him greatly, and I am looking forward to joining him soon. Hopefully I will get to relax while spending the rest of the holiday season with my dad and step-mom.
Anyway, I hope you have a safe and happy holiday if you are celebrating Thanksgiving. And if you aren't, I hope you have a safe and happy day. I hope that for everyday for everyone.
I hope you have a safe and happy Thanksgiving. If you are traveling this weekend, I hope you stay safe and watch out for animals. One person I care having a near run in with a deer is enough for me. And I do care.
I hope that you get to celebrate with people you love. I wish I was getting to celebrate with my loved ones. Unfortunately, I am celebrating with Ace's family (on Saturday). This provides a conundrum as I am not feeling particularly thankful for that celebration. How does one celebrate being thankful when one is not feeling thankful?
This is the first year I've had to celebrate with Ace's family without Ace being here. In fact, this is the first celebration I've had without Ace since we've been married. I miss him greatly, and I am looking forward to joining him soon. Hopefully I will get to relax while spending the rest of the holiday season with my dad and step-mom.
Anyway, I hope you have a safe and happy holiday if you are celebrating Thanksgiving. And if you aren't, I hope you have a safe and happy day. I hope that for everyday for everyone.
Monday, October 29, 2012
Because Sanity is Overrated
Um, yeah. I didn't quite mean to ignore my blog for so long. Things have just been a bit busier for me lately than I expected. I've been trying to adjust my sleep schedule (not going as well as I'd like, as should be indicated by the time of this post). And around that I've been finding myself reading way too much fan fiction.
That and listening to songs that are a bit too depressing in content to be healthy for my mental state (I, however, seem to be in a good mood despite that).
And this is going to sound silly, after ignoring things around here for roughly 2 weeks, but I'm thinking of doing NaBloPoMo again. Because that's how I roll. Ignore my blog for October, post every day in November, and then go back to being random in posts in December.
Since I think the theme of thankfulness worked so well in the past, I'm going to go with a theme again this year. But not the same one. Instead, I'm going to try to post something fictional every day. Hopefully something not related to any of the TV shows I like, but I can make no promises.
Most likely, they will all be short, but it gives me a new way to stretch my writing skills.
Like I said in the title, sanity is overrated.
That and listening to songs that are a bit too depressing in content to be healthy for my mental state (I, however, seem to be in a good mood despite that).
And this is going to sound silly, after ignoring things around here for roughly 2 weeks, but I'm thinking of doing NaBloPoMo again. Because that's how I roll. Ignore my blog for October, post every day in November, and then go back to being random in posts in December.
Since I think the theme of thankfulness worked so well in the past, I'm going to go with a theme again this year. But not the same one. Instead, I'm going to try to post something fictional every day. Hopefully something not related to any of the TV shows I like, but I can make no promises.
Most likely, they will all be short, but it gives me a new way to stretch my writing skills.
Like I said in the title, sanity is overrated.
Sunday, September 23, 2012
It Gets Better - The Depressed Version
Lately, I've been doing things at odd times. I blame my sleep schedule, which is fairly erratic right now. That really has nothing to do with anything, I just thought I'd share it.
I've been thinking on the campaign for LGBT teen community. Mostly with the statement "It gets better." I like that statement. It's a good statement.
I'm adopting it as my statement to people who are depressed. Mostly because some days, some really dark days, that statement needs to be said. So, here it is: "It gets better."
I know that it won't fix your problems or make you feel motivated or make things magically better. I know this. I've been there. Where sitting up is all you are up for. Where changing clothes seems pointless or exhausting or stupid. Where you either eat anything you can get your hands on or you can't be bothered to eat because the food is over there and that's just too far away right now. I have been there. Somehow, I doubt I'll avoid ever going there again, no matter how much I'd like to.
But it gets better. It does. No matter how bad I'm feeling, it doesn't last. No matter how little I care right now, at some point I'll start caring again. No matter how low things seem, it won't stay that way.
I never fully know what will pull me out of my depression. Sometimes it's watching cartoons and funny movies and just putting things that make me laugh in front of my face. Sometimes it's getting reminded of my blessings. Sometimes, apparently, it takes Ace telling me to just grow up and deal with it.
The important thing is that it gets better. I don't stay in that place, where I can barely breath. I find passion for things again. I can take care of myself again. I can tell someone else that it gets better.
So please, if you are depressed, get some help. Find something that works to pull you out. But please, please, please, keep in mind that "It gets better." Don't do something dangerous or stupid. Please.
I've been thinking on the campaign for LGBT teen community. Mostly with the statement "It gets better." I like that statement. It's a good statement.
I'm adopting it as my statement to people who are depressed. Mostly because some days, some really dark days, that statement needs to be said. So, here it is: "It gets better."
I know that it won't fix your problems or make you feel motivated or make things magically better. I know this. I've been there. Where sitting up is all you are up for. Where changing clothes seems pointless or exhausting or stupid. Where you either eat anything you can get your hands on or you can't be bothered to eat because the food is over there and that's just too far away right now. I have been there. Somehow, I doubt I'll avoid ever going there again, no matter how much I'd like to.
But it gets better. It does. No matter how bad I'm feeling, it doesn't last. No matter how little I care right now, at some point I'll start caring again. No matter how low things seem, it won't stay that way.
I never fully know what will pull me out of my depression. Sometimes it's watching cartoons and funny movies and just putting things that make me laugh in front of my face. Sometimes it's getting reminded of my blessings. Sometimes, apparently, it takes Ace telling me to just grow up and deal with it.
The important thing is that it gets better. I don't stay in that place, where I can barely breath. I find passion for things again. I can take care of myself again. I can tell someone else that it gets better.
So please, if you are depressed, get some help. Find something that works to pull you out. But please, please, please, keep in mind that "It gets better." Don't do something dangerous or stupid. Please.
Sunday, August 19, 2012
My Secrets
I don't share everything here. That is hardly surprising, given that this is an anonymous blog. I don't share absolutely everything with Ace either. That is only surprising in that we share so much with each other.
I want to get some secrets off my chest.
1. Despite facing some of the blackest depression and experiencing things that would make most people break, I am still sane. In all that time, in all those things, I have only wanted to hurt myself physically once, and that was at a very bad time for me emotionally. I, fortunately, got much better shortly after that.
2. Ace and I have talked about him getting a tattoo (or more than one) since shortly after we were married (if not before). In the back of my mind, I've always slightly wanted to get one too, but I HATE needles. Recently, I decided to get at least two tattoos. I'm not fully sure how I feel about it, but I like my reasons for wanting them.
3. There is a small part of me that is concerned that I might possibly decide that it's okay to hurt myself physically to help emotional pain. I feel concerned that getting a tattoo will make me more likely to do something stupid. I know that I'm not going to do it, but that doesn't make me feel less concerned.
4. My in-laws have been out of town for a week. I haven't missed them in the slightest. I was complaining to Ace, while he was here on leave, that they didn't seem to be wanting to leave soon enough for us.
5. Ace and I enjoyed ourselves greatly after 6 weeks apart. Now we don't know when we'll see each other again. I think this is harder than the 6 weeks.
6. Sometimes, my compassion for people goes out the window when they seem to be inviting drama into their lives. It's not that I no longer care, it's just that I wonder when they are going to start admitting that they are contributing to their own problems.
7. Sometimes, it's louder in my head when it's silent outside it. That is a big part of the reason I've watched way more TV shows and listened to way more music since Ace started training. I miss him.
8. While Ace was here, we bought me a laptop. It's all bright and shiny and new. I'm hoping his parents don't realize or just don't think about it.
I'm sure I have more secrets to share at some point, but for now I think I'm a bit taped out. Or rather, I've shared all I need to share.
Later.
I want to get some secrets off my chest.
1. Despite facing some of the blackest depression and experiencing things that would make most people break, I am still sane. In all that time, in all those things, I have only wanted to hurt myself physically once, and that was at a very bad time for me emotionally. I, fortunately, got much better shortly after that.
2. Ace and I have talked about him getting a tattoo (or more than one) since shortly after we were married (if not before). In the back of my mind, I've always slightly wanted to get one too, but I HATE needles. Recently, I decided to get at least two tattoos. I'm not fully sure how I feel about it, but I like my reasons for wanting them.
3. There is a small part of me that is concerned that I might possibly decide that it's okay to hurt myself physically to help emotional pain. I feel concerned that getting a tattoo will make me more likely to do something stupid. I know that I'm not going to do it, but that doesn't make me feel less concerned.
4. My in-laws have been out of town for a week. I haven't missed them in the slightest. I was complaining to Ace, while he was here on leave, that they didn't seem to be wanting to leave soon enough for us.
5. Ace and I enjoyed ourselves greatly after 6 weeks apart. Now we don't know when we'll see each other again. I think this is harder than the 6 weeks.
6. Sometimes, my compassion for people goes out the window when they seem to be inviting drama into their lives. It's not that I no longer care, it's just that I wonder when they are going to start admitting that they are contributing to their own problems.
7. Sometimes, it's louder in my head when it's silent outside it. That is a big part of the reason I've watched way more TV shows and listened to way more music since Ace started training. I miss him.
8. While Ace was here, we bought me a laptop. It's all bright and shiny and new. I'm hoping his parents don't realize or just don't think about it.
I'm sure I have more secrets to share at some point, but for now I think I'm a bit taped out. Or rather, I've shared all I need to share.
Later.
Thursday, June 14, 2012
It's Because I'm So Popular
My dreams have a surprisingly large guest cast.
Last night, Marilyn Milian, the judge on People's Court, showed up. She's not the first TV judge to show up in my dreams (that would probably be Judge Alex Ferrer who showed up a few weeks ago).
And it's not just TV judges that make randomly show up. Some of my favorite bloggers have too. Amy Storch, of Amalah was in my dreams a few years ago (trying to convince me that I should get pregnant, as if that wasn't already on my mind). Anissa, of #FreeAnnissa, showed up to try to convince me that I am cool enough to potentially met my favorite bloggers and hang out with them someday. My friend Jenna, of The (Mis)adventures of Jenna, even showed up for us to talk through a class her husband was trying to teach (about something Biblical, I think).
And despite other's predictions, the only instructor from school showing up in my dreams is the one I'm friends with on FaceBook (he was oddly teaching us how to drive a car, something I already know how to do).
The only person who doesn't seem to show up in my dreams is Ace. The only thing we can think of is that he gets so much of my awesomeness during the day that my subconscious feels like it should be spread out among other people at night.
Last night, Marilyn Milian, the judge on People's Court, showed up. She's not the first TV judge to show up in my dreams (that would probably be Judge Alex Ferrer who showed up a few weeks ago).
And it's not just TV judges that make randomly show up. Some of my favorite bloggers have too. Amy Storch, of Amalah was in my dreams a few years ago (trying to convince me that I should get pregnant, as if that wasn't already on my mind). Anissa, of #FreeAnnissa, showed up to try to convince me that I am cool enough to potentially met my favorite bloggers and hang out with them someday. My friend Jenna, of The (Mis)adventures of Jenna, even showed up for us to talk through a class her husband was trying to teach (about something Biblical, I think).
And despite other's predictions, the only instructor from school showing up in my dreams is the one I'm friends with on FaceBook (he was oddly teaching us how to drive a car, something I already know how to do).
The only person who doesn't seem to show up in my dreams is Ace. The only thing we can think of is that he gets so much of my awesomeness during the day that my subconscious feels like it should be spread out among other people at night.
Saturday, May 12, 2012
10 Things About Me
Today, I am coming at you with a random list of things about me.
1. Today I got a new cell phone that I will be using for about a month. It's a pay as you go phone, so it's not quite what Ace and I would have picked for me, but my grandmother bought it and mailed it so I would have a phone. I hope she doesn't get too upset when it gets replaced next month.
2. As much as I've heard good things about The Avengers movie, I won't likely be seeing it in theaters. I only go to see certain movies in the theater, and I have two of those types coming out this year (Batman and The Hobbit). I will eagerly watch it when it comes on DVD.
3. I have only intentionally gone to see 1 movie at the theaters more than once. I don't count seeing Dinosaur (the Disney movie) on a big screen twice, because I wouldn't have picked that movie to see a second time. Serenity, however, was intentionally seen twice on the big screen. I still wish I could have seen it at least once more.
4. I once accidentally saw The Breakup because the group I was with went into the wrong theater. We weren't happy about mixing up our movies and none of us really cared for The Breakup. I was surprised and kind of pleased at the ending though (it was a nice change from what I was expecting).
5. I currently have tan lines from my socks. I never thought I'd wear shorts outside often enough to get tan lines in the first half of May. I can also see where my watch sits, even though it's off my wrist more than half the time.
6. Getting over heat exhaustion has been so weird. I get hot easier than I'd like. I've been tired more than I thought possible. A short trip out of the house can tire me completely. And for some reason, my back is protesting everything right now.
7. I have been getting annoyed with way too many stupid things lately. I think the heat has shortened my temper a bit. And I find that annoying!
8. I still haven't read a western, but I think I've read just about every other genre of fiction. For the most part, I like them all.
9. This year, I've been too busy thinking about driving a truck to think about Mother's Day. I'm surprisingly okay with that. (I did get cards for my mother-in-law and my step-mom. I'm not quite that far out of the loop.)
10. This year, for the first time ever, I got heat rash. My arms are finally starting to look mostly normal and my neck doesn't seem to have bumps all over it. Ace is already mentally preparing himself to do most of the outside work in the heat. He's a smart man.
1. Today I got a new cell phone that I will be using for about a month. It's a pay as you go phone, so it's not quite what Ace and I would have picked for me, but my grandmother bought it and mailed it so I would have a phone. I hope she doesn't get too upset when it gets replaced next month.
2. As much as I've heard good things about The Avengers movie, I won't likely be seeing it in theaters. I only go to see certain movies in the theater, and I have two of those types coming out this year (Batman and The Hobbit). I will eagerly watch it when it comes on DVD.
3. I have only intentionally gone to see 1 movie at the theaters more than once. I don't count seeing Dinosaur (the Disney movie) on a big screen twice, because I wouldn't have picked that movie to see a second time. Serenity, however, was intentionally seen twice on the big screen. I still wish I could have seen it at least once more.
4. I once accidentally saw The Breakup because the group I was with went into the wrong theater. We weren't happy about mixing up our movies and none of us really cared for The Breakup. I was surprised and kind of pleased at the ending though (it was a nice change from what I was expecting).
5. I currently have tan lines from my socks. I never thought I'd wear shorts outside often enough to get tan lines in the first half of May. I can also see where my watch sits, even though it's off my wrist more than half the time.
6. Getting over heat exhaustion has been so weird. I get hot easier than I'd like. I've been tired more than I thought possible. A short trip out of the house can tire me completely. And for some reason, my back is protesting everything right now.
7. I have been getting annoyed with way too many stupid things lately. I think the heat has shortened my temper a bit. And I find that annoying!
8. I still haven't read a western, but I think I've read just about every other genre of fiction. For the most part, I like them all.
9. This year, I've been too busy thinking about driving a truck to think about Mother's Day. I'm surprisingly okay with that. (I did get cards for my mother-in-law and my step-mom. I'm not quite that far out of the loop.)
10. This year, for the first time ever, I got heat rash. My arms are finally starting to look mostly normal and my neck doesn't seem to have bumps all over it. Ace is already mentally preparing himself to do most of the outside work in the heat. He's a smart man.
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