There is a reason that this blog is called RANDOM Acts of Evolution...
Part of it was because those moments of profoundness, of finding that you are discovering some higher level of consciousness about yourself is nothing short of random.
Or perhaps the randomness is finding the time with three CRAZY children to actually sit down and write about it...
More on that later today... Hopefully. ;-)
Tuesday, May 19, 2015
Tuesday, September 30, 2014
Reflections.
Yeah, so, I'm like, 40 n' stuff..
A year ago, I posted an entry that said that I had 365 days to turn my life completely around. That post makes me laugh now.
In the past year...
I have seen friends die, way too young, for no good reason. A great love of my life had a stroke out of the blue and died, at the top of his game, surrounded by the immense respect and love that he richly deserved.
I saw a mentor that I never met, lose his battle with depression, and heard horrible words from self-righteous people, who said, "how dare he?"
Knowing the pain of depression, HOW DARE ANYONE JUDGE?!
Knowing the pain of depression, HOW DARE ANYONE JUDGE?!
I've looked in the mirror and said, what the hell am I doing with my life, with no one to answer back...
I believe that I have found my answer.
I'm living. Simply truly. That's it.
I'm living. Simply truly. That's it.
Life is TRULY, everlastingly, a gift. What you do with it, is your call. Believe in God or don't, that is not the issue. You have this one chance to make the most from the time you are given. For some that might be, to become to picture of health. For others that might be to make people laugh within an inch of their dying breath. For some, it might be to just be true to yourself, flaws and all, to love your family, your children, your parents, siblings, plants or pets... And hope that all understand that you were flawed, but you tried like hell.
That's me.
Someday, I am going to knit afghans, and wax lyrical about my misspent youth, and I will probably never be a lady. But at 40 years old, I am glad to know that I LIKE THE BROAD THAT I AM. And I feel blessed to have others in my life who feel the same way!
Happy Birthday to me. 9/17/74. A great day.
Thursday, August 14, 2014
I have battled Depression.
I have battled Anxiety
I have battled Addiction.
I still do.
My demons are my own. I refuse to judge any others. But recently, a great hero of mine, took his own life, after many, many years of battling against a fierce foe. What was he thinking? How could he be so selfish, to take himself away from those who loved him, who needed him, who depended on him...
I don't know his thoughts... I refuse to judge him. But I know mine, and here they are
When you are at your lowest, you feel like a burdain upon those whom love you the most,you are afraid.that they will see that awful part of you that you try so hard to hide, to mask with alcohol, or drugs, or whatever your method of choice might be... You are terrified that they will think they are the cause of your pain. Often the answer is simply, to GO.
I have been there. I have never attempted my own life... Being brought up very religious, I was taught that suicide lands you in HELL. With the devil and the fire and brimstone and all that shit...
But what if you are ALREADY THERE?
Think, please, for a moment. Think about the person in pain. Maybe they Would reach out, but are ashamed... Maybe they want help, but not the stigma?
I was lucky. The night that I was at my lowest, I came home from a gig, and my daughter was still awake... She took my face in her hands and said, " I'm sad, Mommy." At that moment, she meant 100 times more that any pain thatI was in, and I said, "Why baby girl?"
She said, "I missed you so much."
I put her to bed. Cuddled with her. Then went to my back yard and cried. And then decided to get help. There is not a single level of pain worse than that Contemplating suicide. I promise you.
I got lucky. Some aren't so much... Love them and try to understand.
I have battled Anxiety
I have battled Addiction.
I still do.
My demons are my own. I refuse to judge any others. But recently, a great hero of mine, took his own life, after many, many years of battling against a fierce foe. What was he thinking? How could he be so selfish, to take himself away from those who loved him, who needed him, who depended on him...
I don't know his thoughts... I refuse to judge him. But I know mine, and here they are
When you are at your lowest, you feel like a burdain upon those whom love you the most,you are afraid.that they will see that awful part of you that you try so hard to hide, to mask with alcohol, or drugs, or whatever your method of choice might be... You are terrified that they will think they are the cause of your pain. Often the answer is simply, to GO.
I have been there. I have never attempted my own life... Being brought up very religious, I was taught that suicide lands you in HELL. With the devil and the fire and brimstone and all that shit...
But what if you are ALREADY THERE?
Think, please, for a moment. Think about the person in pain. Maybe they Would reach out, but are ashamed... Maybe they want help, but not the stigma?
I was lucky. The night that I was at my lowest, I came home from a gig, and my daughter was still awake... She took my face in her hands and said, " I'm sad, Mommy." At that moment, she meant 100 times more that any pain thatI was in, and I said, "Why baby girl?"
She said, "I missed you so much."
I put her to bed. Cuddled with her. Then went to my back yard and cried. And then decided to get help. There is not a single level of pain worse than that Contemplating suicide. I promise you.
I got lucky. Some aren't so much... Love them and try to understand.
Thursday, January 23, 2014
Dear Mama ahead of me in line...
Dear Mama ahead of me in line last night at the store:
I get it.
I saw you, slightly frazzled and exhausted, as you worked out your order at the checkout, keeping that ever watchful third eye on your little boy, with his curly mop of hair and innocent exuberance. I saw HIS energy, and lack of impulse control, flip flopping back and forth, lunging forward to poke me every couple of minutes. And yes, I got it then too.
I noted your exasperation and said nothing, simply smiling at your playful son. When you looked down at the cashier counter and with a sigh, said,"He's Autistic," my heart broke for you. Because I'VE BEEN THERE, and when I looked squarely at you and said, "My son has Autism. I get it," we locked eyes and you said, "Yeah, I thought there was a connection there." You got it, like we ALL do.
You gave a deep sigh and said, "It's been a... LONG... two... years..." Perhaps I should not speculate ON YOUR THOUGHTS, but having SAID those words before, I'd like to THINK that I got this too... the feeling of guilt for having to admit that you are not always superhuman, that yes, the years have been long; for perhaps being frustrated, or worn down, or unsure, or scared, or uncertain, or - yes- even royally pissed off... if that was indeed YOU at that moment, YES. I get it.
It's been two years since Ryan's diagnosis, and four years leading up to it. Ryan's first year of life was relatively uneventful. Slightly behind his older brother developmentally, we were unconcerned, until we began to notice more serious issues. Decreased speech to the point of being non-verbal... Constantly seeking out patterns; at two years old, Ryan could literally sit on a computer for FOUR HOURS. He had near photographic memory for numbers. His physical habits, such as the need to run headlong into the sofa as hard as he possibly could, and the constant need for physical contact, came in waves, directly contrasting the moments of utter "drop out," when he could literally walk in front of a speeding car if you didn't have him in a vice grip, because he just "wasn't there" at that time... it was terrifying.
I remember the difficulty bringing him places, because of my own issues of inferiority as a mother... Concerns that were often reinforced by people's judgmental comments, cruel looks, and having no explanation for it... there was this beautiful, loving, amazing little boy here, that I was in total denial about. Eventually though, denial grew into suspicion, as our parental instincts finally won out. Finally came the guilt, as I realized that my husband and I were in WAY over our heads. The only way that we would do right by our child and get him the proper care and diagnosis he needed was to bring in the experts. And even then,on December 2nd, 2011, as I sat in the Dr.'s office, between my husband Joshua, and my son's Educational Advocate and gripped each of their hands, I heard the words, "Autism Disorder," and dissolved.
And THAT was DAY ONE, two years and one month ago.
I've mentioned the extent of coming to terms with things in previous posts, so I won't be redundant here, but the reason I explain my history to you, my unknown friend, right now, is that in the last two years, I have aged ten, easily. I KNOW FULL WELL, the preemptive strike that many moms take so that people won't not judge unfairly. And perhaps this was the millionth time you've had to say it, and you were sick to DEATH of having to say it... STILL, the manner in which he was behaving is his normal, and I had no problem taking a couple of good slugs to the arm. and when I knelt down to his level and said, "hi handsome boy!" and his face lit up, and he hit me again, this time as a high-five, I saw the relief on your face. I felt it, I know that relief, and I got it.
One disclaimer for ALL READING THIS, Special needs or otherwise. Being an "Autism Mom" for a few years now, has made me more tolerant, in public or otherwise, of every type of child, with the exception, oddly enough, of my own... I still have that underlying anxiety that my three kids are going to be beyond my control. So please, if I seem stressed out or frazzled, or impatient or exhausted, or snappy please try to "GET IT," and not judge me a bad parent... And understand, that this is NOT an apology for my kids, or an explanation. It's strictly an explanation of myself. And it's been a long... 5... years...
As for you, Dear Mama ahead of me in line, I recognized in you tonight, something I see in EVERY Autism Mom that I have ever met. While we all might offer the quick explanation that you did, you did it with a matter of fact resolve, and NO SHAME. And when you said "it's all worth it," I got that too. Applaud yourself for that! Our babies are unique, and will face many challenges, some so great it's devastating, but there is not a single Autism Mom that I have EVER met that doesn't not believe that their child is anything but a million beautiful colors of the spectrum. And though the puzzle might be a million pieces, and sometimes frustrate the living hell out of us, we will keep doing everything we can figure it out, to understand the world they see, a world that so many others will never know. We recognize this. Be proud. WE GET IT.
I get it.
I saw you, slightly frazzled and exhausted, as you worked out your order at the checkout, keeping that ever watchful third eye on your little boy, with his curly mop of hair and innocent exuberance. I saw HIS energy, and lack of impulse control, flip flopping back and forth, lunging forward to poke me every couple of minutes. And yes, I got it then too.
I noted your exasperation and said nothing, simply smiling at your playful son. When you looked down at the cashier counter and with a sigh, said,"He's Autistic," my heart broke for you. Because I'VE BEEN THERE, and when I looked squarely at you and said, "My son has Autism. I get it," we locked eyes and you said, "Yeah, I thought there was a connection there." You got it, like we ALL do.
You gave a deep sigh and said, "It's been a... LONG... two... years..." Perhaps I should not speculate ON YOUR THOUGHTS, but having SAID those words before, I'd like to THINK that I got this too... the feeling of guilt for having to admit that you are not always superhuman, that yes, the years have been long; for perhaps being frustrated, or worn down, or unsure, or scared, or uncertain, or - yes- even royally pissed off... if that was indeed YOU at that moment, YES. I get it.
It's been two years since Ryan's diagnosis, and four years leading up to it. Ryan's first year of life was relatively uneventful. Slightly behind his older brother developmentally, we were unconcerned, until we began to notice more serious issues. Decreased speech to the point of being non-verbal... Constantly seeking out patterns; at two years old, Ryan could literally sit on a computer for FOUR HOURS. He had near photographic memory for numbers. His physical habits, such as the need to run headlong into the sofa as hard as he possibly could, and the constant need for physical contact, came in waves, directly contrasting the moments of utter "drop out," when he could literally walk in front of a speeding car if you didn't have him in a vice grip, because he just "wasn't there" at that time... it was terrifying.
I remember the difficulty bringing him places, because of my own issues of inferiority as a mother... Concerns that were often reinforced by people's judgmental comments, cruel looks, and having no explanation for it... there was this beautiful, loving, amazing little boy here, that I was in total denial about. Eventually though, denial grew into suspicion, as our parental instincts finally won out. Finally came the guilt, as I realized that my husband and I were in WAY over our heads. The only way that we would do right by our child and get him the proper care and diagnosis he needed was to bring in the experts. And even then,on December 2nd, 2011, as I sat in the Dr.'s office, between my husband Joshua, and my son's Educational Advocate and gripped each of their hands, I heard the words, "Autism Disorder," and dissolved.
And THAT was DAY ONE, two years and one month ago.
I've mentioned the extent of coming to terms with things in previous posts, so I won't be redundant here, but the reason I explain my history to you, my unknown friend, right now, is that in the last two years, I have aged ten, easily. I KNOW FULL WELL, the preemptive strike that many moms take so that people won't not judge unfairly. And perhaps this was the millionth time you've had to say it, and you were sick to DEATH of having to say it... STILL, the manner in which he was behaving is his normal, and I had no problem taking a couple of good slugs to the arm. and when I knelt down to his level and said, "hi handsome boy!" and his face lit up, and he hit me again, this time as a high-five, I saw the relief on your face. I felt it, I know that relief, and I got it.
One disclaimer for ALL READING THIS, Special needs or otherwise. Being an "Autism Mom" for a few years now, has made me more tolerant, in public or otherwise, of every type of child, with the exception, oddly enough, of my own... I still have that underlying anxiety that my three kids are going to be beyond my control. So please, if I seem stressed out or frazzled, or impatient or exhausted, or snappy please try to "GET IT," and not judge me a bad parent... And understand, that this is NOT an apology for my kids, or an explanation. It's strictly an explanation of myself. And it's been a long... 5... years...
As for you, Dear Mama ahead of me in line, I recognized in you tonight, something I see in EVERY Autism Mom that I have ever met. While we all might offer the quick explanation that you did, you did it with a matter of fact resolve, and NO SHAME. And when you said "it's all worth it," I got that too. Applaud yourself for that! Our babies are unique, and will face many challenges, some so great it's devastating, but there is not a single Autism Mom that I have EVER met that doesn't not believe that their child is anything but a million beautiful colors of the spectrum. And though the puzzle might be a million pieces, and sometimes frustrate the living hell out of us, we will keep doing everything we can figure it out, to understand the world they see, a world that so many others will never know. We recognize this. Be proud. WE GET IT.
Friday, January 17, 2014
The first and last days...
I am following my friend Kelly's advice and treating every day as my first... but also treating it like my last.
What would I do today if this were my last day and I knew it? I would not hide my emotions behind pride. I would hug and kiss my children every chance I could get, and memorize every nuance of their faces. I would laugh and smile and remind each of how incredibly blessed I'VE BEEN SINCE THE DAY I BROUGHT THEM INTO THE WORLD.
I would work out because I would want to feel good. I would tell my husband what a wonderful partner and father, best friend and loveer he has been, and that, despite our ups and downs I would not trace a single day that we've had together. I would paint a picture. I would go outside and breathe in the air. I would tell my parents how lucky I have been to be raised by them. I would eat the goddamn piece of cake, drink the 2-3 glasses of wine, and regret no part of it.
I would get a Pedicure, a massage, lay in a tanning bed for 10 minutes, and sit in sauna and hot tub. I would do my hair, and put on my make-up and and rent out the most classic hotel room I could find, overlooking the water. I would make love to my husband with a passion that he would never forget, then together, we'd bask in a luxurious bath, in each other's arms.
I would sing the songs I've written, that I want my kids to have, into my ipad, because who gives a shit what the quality is, as long as they have the memory. I would make video diaries to my kids, family, friends and loved ones, telling them what an enormous impact the have had in my life. I'd sit down to a five star dinner, with a tomato, basil and mozzarella salad, french onion soup, prime rib and pan seared tuna, creme brûlée, champagne and strawberries. I would finally get to try lobster (I am deathly allergic,) and since I am actually NOT dying and don't want to... I won't tempt my CURRENT reality with that one... HA!
Later I would quietly, alone, NAKED and completely comfortable in my own skin, lay down on the most plush blanket I can find, under a soft bed of grass, surrounded by white twinkle lights. Under the evening moon I would read my favorite two books, Ben Franklin's wit Wisdom and Practical advice, and finish with "to Kill a Mockingbird." I would then gaze up into the midnight sky, listen to the "music" created by the wind through the trees and the song in my heart, thank the creator for my life, and close my eyes.
Obviously, I am NOT dying, but I have decided to live each day as such. A newborn baby sees everything in it's purest form, unjaded and without regret. And infant doesn't care who said what about them and where. An infant knows only RGHT NOW. A person on their last day, I like to believe, forgives and releases all, and in many ways follows the same ideal as the infant child.
I just learned how to use my Ninja processor, and started making my health smoothies. I am starting to write again. I worked out for a half hour today. When my kids get home in 15 minutes, I will say, "fuck the laundry and play the WII system with them. I will rest my head for a spell and them get ready for my gig. I will do what I love, other than writing, which is to sing, and I will get to sing to my children for once, a surprise that they don't know is coming. I will smile. I will breath in, and breath out when my patience wears thin. I will forgive my husband for whatever irked me throughout the day, because in the end, resentment should not be what you take to meet God.
When you go to meet God, you do it alone. No excuses and no regrets. God doesn't want to hear it. He wants to know what you DID with the gift of life you were given.
So I ask you, what will YOU do today?
What would I do today if this were my last day and I knew it? I would not hide my emotions behind pride. I would hug and kiss my children every chance I could get, and memorize every nuance of their faces. I would laugh and smile and remind each of how incredibly blessed I'VE BEEN SINCE THE DAY I BROUGHT THEM INTO THE WORLD.
I would work out because I would want to feel good. I would tell my husband what a wonderful partner and father, best friend and loveer he has been, and that, despite our ups and downs I would not trace a single day that we've had together. I would paint a picture. I would go outside and breathe in the air. I would tell my parents how lucky I have been to be raised by them. I would eat the goddamn piece of cake, drink the 2-3 glasses of wine, and regret no part of it.
I would get a Pedicure, a massage, lay in a tanning bed for 10 minutes, and sit in sauna and hot tub. I would do my hair, and put on my make-up and and rent out the most classic hotel room I could find, overlooking the water. I would make love to my husband with a passion that he would never forget, then together, we'd bask in a luxurious bath, in each other's arms.
I would sing the songs I've written, that I want my kids to have, into my ipad, because who gives a shit what the quality is, as long as they have the memory. I would make video diaries to my kids, family, friends and loved ones, telling them what an enormous impact the have had in my life. I'd sit down to a five star dinner, with a tomato, basil and mozzarella salad, french onion soup, prime rib and pan seared tuna, creme brûlée, champagne and strawberries. I would finally get to try lobster (I am deathly allergic,) and since I am actually NOT dying and don't want to... I won't tempt my CURRENT reality with that one... HA!
Later I would quietly, alone, NAKED and completely comfortable in my own skin, lay down on the most plush blanket I can find, under a soft bed of grass, surrounded by white twinkle lights. Under the evening moon I would read my favorite two books, Ben Franklin's wit Wisdom and Practical advice, and finish with "to Kill a Mockingbird." I would then gaze up into the midnight sky, listen to the "music" created by the wind through the trees and the song in my heart, thank the creator for my life, and close my eyes.
Obviously, I am NOT dying, but I have decided to live each day as such. A newborn baby sees everything in it's purest form, unjaded and without regret. And infant doesn't care who said what about them and where. An infant knows only RGHT NOW. A person on their last day, I like to believe, forgives and releases all, and in many ways follows the same ideal as the infant child.
I just learned how to use my Ninja processor, and started making my health smoothies. I am starting to write again. I worked out for a half hour today. When my kids get home in 15 minutes, I will say, "fuck the laundry and play the WII system with them. I will rest my head for a spell and them get ready for my gig. I will do what I love, other than writing, which is to sing, and I will get to sing to my children for once, a surprise that they don't know is coming. I will smile. I will breath in, and breath out when my patience wears thin. I will forgive my husband for whatever irked me throughout the day, because in the end, resentment should not be what you take to meet God.
When you go to meet God, you do it alone. No excuses and no regrets. God doesn't want to hear it. He wants to know what you DID with the gift of life you were given.
So I ask you, what will YOU do today?
Tuesday, September 17, 2013
365-2180
Looks like a phone number, right? Nope. It's a Mantra. MY NEW MANTRA.
Today is my 39th birthday. I have been waiting for this day anxiously, since deciding to KNOCK OFF the half-hearted attempts to improve myself, only to beat the hell out of myself when I "fail."
Here's the thing. I have a lot of learning to do, more mistakes to learn FROM, and growing to do... On my 40th birthday I WILL be able to look in the mirror, having reached my ultimate goal of a complete 180 degree turn around. The face reflecting back at me is often unhappy, unhealthy, and unappreciative of the amazing gifts that I DO have in life right NOW. I will spend the next 365 days working on the areas of myself that I want to correct, like unhealthy diet and lifestyle, and truly embrace the beauty and joy that already exists. By remembering this mantra as a phone number, I keep my goal in mind, 365-2180. 365 days, to a total 180.
It starts now.
Today is my 39th birthday. I have been waiting for this day anxiously, since deciding to KNOCK OFF the half-hearted attempts to improve myself, only to beat the hell out of myself when I "fail."
Here's the thing. I have a lot of learning to do, more mistakes to learn FROM, and growing to do... On my 40th birthday I WILL be able to look in the mirror, having reached my ultimate goal of a complete 180 degree turn around. The face reflecting back at me is often unhappy, unhealthy, and unappreciative of the amazing gifts that I DO have in life right NOW. I will spend the next 365 days working on the areas of myself that I want to correct, like unhealthy diet and lifestyle, and truly embrace the beauty and joy that already exists. By remembering this mantra as a phone number, I keep my goal in mind, 365-2180. 365 days, to a total 180.
It starts now.
Thursday, May 23, 2013
The Platform.
Growing more vivid in front of me has been this mental picture:
I envision myself, standing on a diving platform. Below me are the platforms which I have climbed past to reach this one. Way down sits a murky black pool, contaminated by bacteria and algae. I've climbed so many levels that it's hard to see the pool at this point.
Where I stand has grown windy. A storm is brewing and rain is starting to fall. The platform is slippery and I sense a real danger of slipping and falling off THIS platform, possibly landing in the pool that I have fought my entire life to climb out of.
This is Depression. This is what it feels like. You tread water in a dark pool. I DON'T want to go back. I was born with Depression and Anxiety disorders. Where I am, from where I've been is SO much better... But for some reason, I never seem to be able to climb to the NEXT level until I absolutely HAVE TO... That is where I am now.
My choices are to climb, to remain paralyzed where I stand, or worse still, to slip and fall.
I secure myself at the base of the ladder, take in the view around me, build up my physical and mental strength, gain perspective, and ready myself for the climb up the ladder to the NEXT platform...
I catch glimpses of the platform above me through periodic breaks in the clouds. My favorite flowers spill over the sides, hanging down and swaying back and forth. I can smell the flowers. I SEE the brightness and feel the warmth of the sun. Yet, halfway up, I freeze.
Hanging out on the ladder, I start to ponder a few things... I still don't understand what holds me back sometimes. Is it fear that I won't succeed? That I won't be worthy of the next level? That it won't be what I expected? I can't stay HERE, that's for sure. I'm going to need a bathroom soon. ;-)
Recitations of apology, followed by replay of the mistake, is a lesson unlearned. It decreases the value of your sincerity, with with each *ahem* fuck up, and subsequent apology. Over time, faith decreases, and you become the boy who cried wolf, figuratively speaking.
To be strong, bold and TRULY committed to my evolution, means that I MUST accept responsibility for my mis-steps, by surrendering to the fact that everything around me is completely beyond my control! But, EVERYTHING within ME, IS COMPLETELY IN my control. Everything I see, touch, taste, smell, hear... IS MINE. NO ONE else has any say in that. MY world, MY reality, MY CONTROL. And it's time to climb this fucking ladder before I pee my pants.
For the last few years, a growing bitterness in myself... like I have no real direction or purpose... especially when someone tells me that I have as much right to love my life as anyone.
The best way to describe it is that I feel like a bit character in everyone else' play. And not the cool supportive "Ben Affleck or Robin Williams' Good Will Hunting" Characters - those guys that offer the out of nowhere profound insight, completely altering Matt Damon's personal outlook on life, so that he takes off for the West Coast in a shit-box, that, let's be honest, PROBABLY won't make it through the Berkshires, but dammit, HE'S GOING ANYWAY, come hell or high water... and hopefully non-shifty mechanics... because seriously, I would have given that freakin car to about Albany...
Seriously, who here thinks there should have been a "Good Will Hunting II," JUST so we could see that P.O.S. Nova rolling into Stanford U on bald tires, ready to tell Matty D to go pound some Pacific coast sand, backfiring the whole way there... Just to find out Skylar just transferred back to Harvard. Show of hands?!
;-)
Ok, still on the ladder...
I'm sorry, Really, I am TRYING to stay on topic. This is just how my mind works. Love me or leave me... that thought just made me hysterically laugh! But ok! Ummm, wait, where was I... BITTERNESS! Bitterness, resentment and cynicism. That's right...
God, I have issues...
But it's time to start climbing again. I'll worry about the expectations when I get there. I REALLY hope there's a bathroom...
I envision myself, standing on a diving platform. Below me are the platforms which I have climbed past to reach this one. Way down sits a murky black pool, contaminated by bacteria and algae. I've climbed so many levels that it's hard to see the pool at this point.
Where I stand has grown windy. A storm is brewing and rain is starting to fall. The platform is slippery and I sense a real danger of slipping and falling off THIS platform, possibly landing in the pool that I have fought my entire life to climb out of.
This is Depression. This is what it feels like. You tread water in a dark pool. I DON'T want to go back. I was born with Depression and Anxiety disorders. Where I am, from where I've been is SO much better... But for some reason, I never seem to be able to climb to the NEXT level until I absolutely HAVE TO... That is where I am now.
My choices are to climb, to remain paralyzed where I stand, or worse still, to slip and fall.
I secure myself at the base of the ladder, take in the view around me, build up my physical and mental strength, gain perspective, and ready myself for the climb up the ladder to the NEXT platform...
I catch glimpses of the platform above me through periodic breaks in the clouds. My favorite flowers spill over the sides, hanging down and swaying back and forth. I can smell the flowers. I SEE the brightness and feel the warmth of the sun. Yet, halfway up, I freeze.
Hanging out on the ladder, I start to ponder a few things... I still don't understand what holds me back sometimes. Is it fear that I won't succeed? That I won't be worthy of the next level? That it won't be what I expected? I can't stay HERE, that's for sure. I'm going to need a bathroom soon. ;-)
Recitations of apology, followed by replay of the mistake, is a lesson unlearned. It decreases the value of your sincerity, with with each *ahem* fuck up, and subsequent apology. Over time, faith decreases, and you become the boy who cried wolf, figuratively speaking.
To be strong, bold and TRULY committed to my evolution, means that I MUST accept responsibility for my mis-steps, by surrendering to the fact that everything around me is completely beyond my control! But, EVERYTHING within ME, IS COMPLETELY IN my control. Everything I see, touch, taste, smell, hear... IS MINE. NO ONE else has any say in that. MY world, MY reality, MY CONTROL. And it's time to climb this fucking ladder before I pee my pants.
For the last few years, a growing bitterness in myself... like I have no real direction or purpose... especially when someone tells me that I have as much right to love my life as anyone.
The best way to describe it is that I feel like a bit character in everyone else' play. And not the cool supportive "Ben Affleck or Robin Williams' Good Will Hunting" Characters - those guys that offer the out of nowhere profound insight, completely altering Matt Damon's personal outlook on life, so that he takes off for the West Coast in a shit-box, that, let's be honest, PROBABLY won't make it through the Berkshires, but dammit, HE'S GOING ANYWAY, come hell or high water... and hopefully non-shifty mechanics... because seriously, I would have given that freakin car to about Albany...
Seriously, who here thinks there should have been a "Good Will Hunting II," JUST so we could see that P.O.S. Nova rolling into Stanford U on bald tires, ready to tell Matty D to go pound some Pacific coast sand, backfiring the whole way there... Just to find out Skylar just transferred back to Harvard. Show of hands?!
;-)
Ok, still on the ladder...
I'm sorry, Really, I am TRYING to stay on topic. This is just how my mind works. Love me or leave me... that thought just made me hysterically laugh! But ok! Ummm, wait, where was I... BITTERNESS! Bitterness, resentment and cynicism. That's right...
God, I have issues...
But it's time to start climbing again. I'll worry about the expectations when I get there. I REALLY hope there's a bathroom...
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
Breaking the chain
It's taken me a great many years to accept that I have created and perpetuated a chain of negativity within myself, that has grown so long now that Jacob Marley would be jealous, but have started breaking down that chain, link by link. It may well be the toughest thing I've ever done and will ever do, but as Lao Tsu said, (paraphrasing) "the journey of a thousand miles begins under one's own feet." REALIZING that so many of the hardships I experience are a direct result of my own negative, defeatist attitude is the first step of a LONG process, but it is an IMPORTANT step, and I am ready to take it.
In order to move forward, the best approach for me has actually been to take a look back, to see myself as I WAS, then visualize the person (the child, the friend, the lover, the MOTHER, the reflection) that I TRULY WANT TO BE. It ALL goes back to my very first post in this blog. I was nowhere near that "Septuagenarian Lady" that I imagined back then, even days ago. Quite contrarily, I had pulled so far away from that ideal, that I couldn't fathom what I could possibly do to get back on the right track. What do you do to heal wounds that you yourself keep opening? This mental mutilation is going to take a LOT more work to heal that simply recognizing my flaws and keeping myself in check...
I have caught myself in the act of self-sabotage, so many times. But rather than ceasing my actions mid stream, it's almost as if I think, "Well, screw it. I've gone THIS far... Might as well fuck it up RIGHT!" Catching yourself in the act, can only take you so far. You have to SEE EVERYTHING you are, the cancer, the negativity, the loathing and doubt, in order to completely reverse direction. But you also have to SEE the beauty in yourself and FIND your healing qualities, and regain your center. I HAVE TO recognize that I AM GOOD, and that it is OK TO BE GOOD, in order to recognize that BETTER is possible. I am trying to see what others see. ALL OF IT. GOOD AND BAD.
What I gained from that part of the process is insight. I can see the GOAL LINE, and how to get there, which are to CORRECT imbalances, QUIET superego, HEAL wounds, LEARN SELF-recognizance, ALTER victimizing patterns and PROCEED on a new path.
Hostility inflicts pain. Negativity infects. I do not intentionally inflict OR infect, but being very REAL here, a piss-poor attitude, born out of some warped sense of entitlement, and resent, manifested through ugly words and surly demeanor DOES just that, to everyone around you, and by extension everyone around them, and beyond! I have recently heard my OWN words, come from my own babies mouths. Words like, "I can't!" or "I give up!" have been said by both boys. In those moments I want to take them up in my arms and beg them, DON'T copy me!!
Last week was THE breaking point - I witnessed my 2 year old daughter, drop her sippy cup, roll her eyes to the heavens, stomp her foot, and yell out, "REALLY?!"
Oh HELL no!
And SO, long story short... ;-) I made a very conscious decision, that it was time to eradicate the OLD me, give myself a much needed bitch-slap, and realize, FIRST OFF, that THIS IS, ALL ABOUT ME. My actions and reactions affect MY outlook. Time to change my ATTITUDE to GRATITUDE (it's ok to groan at that last sentence... even my husband did! But if Muhammed Ali said it you KNOW it woulda sounded badass! But I digress...) Instead of focusing on the have nots, cant's and "why me" bullshit, I am simplifying, and simply saying "thank you, for what I HAVE and what I CAN DO." And answer my own question with, "why NOT me! If not ME, than who ELSE?!" No one can "fix" you, no matter how much medication you go on, or how many Therapists you see in your lifetime, until YOU are ready to INVEST in yourself. I wasn't ready to make THAT investment, until now. my children deserve the best that I am, and NOTHING less
I want my loves to know I loved them, and I CAN BE HAPPY, and not the shell of a person the see so often.
That's the path that I am currently on.
Friday, December 21, 2012
WEIRDNESS and CONSENT
A few days ago, My six year old son came to me and told me that several kids in his class said that he was "bossy and weird," that they didn't like him, didn't want to be his friends and that he should not try to play with them anymore.
My first thought was, "WHAT THE ****?! He's SIX!!" The 2nd was, "Why? Aiden is a handsome, smart, vibrant little boy who only ever wants to make friends!" The third was, "What the HELL do I do about this to make him feel better? Do I call the school?! Do I get involved? Do I stay out of it? Do I trust HIM to handle it?! WHAT DO I DO?!"
I had no idea that this ridiculousness started so early in life. I should have, as I experienced bullying early in life myself, and knowing my son to be much like his Mom, he CAN be a bit bossy, hyper, and maybe a bit... eccentric. It's a magnet for bullies. I prayed the uncomfortable rite of passage would PASS him by... Sadly, that is not the case here.
I have already faced some intolerance with my younger son. Ryan has been targeted by children AND adults for his behavior related to Autism Spectrum Disorder. He's been bullied before, and until recently was blissfully unaware, or unfazed by it. People do not understand that "high-functioning" Autism, is STILL Autism. Often, people simply see a bratty, unruly, disrespectful kid, instead of what is truly going on, and as loving and gentle a soul as he is, his behavior CAN BE confusing at times. Sometimes, in playgroups, etc, the children will laugh at him; the PARENTS, will shoot me concerned looks, and steer their children away... and it HURTS him! He doesn't understand why they "Can't" play with him! And it KILLS ME. However, I've had some time to mentally prepare myself, to steel my resolve that he will NEVER be made to feel bad about who he is, by any person, INCLUDING the one looking back at him in the mirror. SO FAR, I've been able to say to him, "You've done NOTHING wrong. They just don't get how awesome you are. They are missing out on you. You're not missing out on ANYTHING," and until now that has worked for him.
Hearing that Aiden was being bullied left me completely FLOORED. I never saw it coming and was stumped as to how to handle it. Aiden is extremely sensitive, a huge people pleaser and wants to be EVERYBODY'S best friend. He got that from me. However, He got a wonderful gift from his father, the Pragmatist... the gift of common sense.
It became clear, suddenly, how to handle the situation. The conversation continued like this:
Mom: (looking my son square in in eye) "Well Bubba? Are they right?"
A: "What?"
M: "They said you're weird. Are you weird?"
A: "I don't know. No. No, I'm not weird. What's 'weird' mean?"
M: It means, different from everyone else. Special. INTERESTING, Funky and cool."
A: "So, it's GOOD?"
M: "I think so, but that's just me. You have to decide that for yourself Buddy."
A: "Why would they call me that, if they don't want to be my friend?"
M: "Because they don't get it. They don't get you. You're too cool for them."
A: "Ooooh..."
M: "So, let me ask you again, Are you weird?"
A: "Yup!"
M: "And what do you think you should say if someone calls you weird?"
A: "Thank you?"
M: "Exactly."
We went on to discuss the BIG difference between being a leader, and being "bossy." Barking orders and not playing by the rules is being "bossy," is NOT ok, and if WAS acting that way, "knock it off." By contrast, a true leader is compassionate and adaptable. Leaders do not NEED to be followed, but WILL lead, as required. We gave Aiden examples of his own leadership qualities, like doing chores without being asked, helping Ryan with his reading or playing with Kay busy so that Mommy can make dinner. It is a wonderful quality that we are proud to see in him, every day.
Then came the hard part of the discussion... BULLIES. All people need to feel important, but that shutting another person out of a group, belittling or intimidating others to make oneself feel in control, important or special is VERY WRONG. No one should EVER feel pressured to act out of character. We told our son that if someone tries to shut him out, just say, "Ok, great. Whatever makes you happy," and move on. As long as he understands that there is nothing wrong with him, and knows and likes himself, he stays in control of who himself and his own life. In a nutshell, My husband and I told him the "Abridged" philosophy of Eleanor Roosevelt:
The story goes that Madame Roosevelt was questioned during a White House press conference about the "snub" of the Secretary of Labor at a recent event. Her response, according to the 1935 (AP) article was in classic Eleanor Roosevelt fashion:
“A snub” defined the first lady, “is the effort of a person who feels superior to make someone else feel inferior. To do so, he has to find someone who can be made to feel inferior.” She made clear she didn’t think the labor secretary fell within the category of the “snubable.” (1)
In terms that he would understand, we told him to remember that, "only YOU can decide who you are in your life. NO ONE gets that right but you. If someone doesn't want to play with you, that's ok. If they say, "I don't like you," reply with, "Congratulations," and walk away. If they keep bothering you, tell the teacher. If they don't stop, tell US. But always remember, the problem is THEIRS - NOT YOURS." I guess it DOES go back to that basic philosophy, whether you are five years old, six, 20 or 38. No one can MAKE you feel inferior without YOUR consent.
My first thought was, "WHAT THE ****?! He's SIX!!" The 2nd was, "Why? Aiden is a handsome, smart, vibrant little boy who only ever wants to make friends!" The third was, "What the HELL do I do about this to make him feel better? Do I call the school?! Do I get involved? Do I stay out of it? Do I trust HIM to handle it?! WHAT DO I DO?!"
I had no idea that this ridiculousness started so early in life. I should have, as I experienced bullying early in life myself, and knowing my son to be much like his Mom, he CAN be a bit bossy, hyper, and maybe a bit... eccentric. It's a magnet for bullies. I prayed the uncomfortable rite of passage would PASS him by... Sadly, that is not the case here.
I have already faced some intolerance with my younger son. Ryan has been targeted by children AND adults for his behavior related to Autism Spectrum Disorder. He's been bullied before, and until recently was blissfully unaware, or unfazed by it. People do not understand that "high-functioning" Autism, is STILL Autism. Often, people simply see a bratty, unruly, disrespectful kid, instead of what is truly going on, and as loving and gentle a soul as he is, his behavior CAN BE confusing at times. Sometimes, in playgroups, etc, the children will laugh at him; the PARENTS, will shoot me concerned looks, and steer their children away... and it HURTS him! He doesn't understand why they "Can't" play with him! And it KILLS ME. However, I've had some time to mentally prepare myself, to steel my resolve that he will NEVER be made to feel bad about who he is, by any person, INCLUDING the one looking back at him in the mirror. SO FAR, I've been able to say to him, "You've done NOTHING wrong. They just don't get how awesome you are. They are missing out on you. You're not missing out on ANYTHING," and until now that has worked for him.
Hearing that Aiden was being bullied left me completely FLOORED. I never saw it coming and was stumped as to how to handle it. Aiden is extremely sensitive, a huge people pleaser and wants to be EVERYBODY'S best friend. He got that from me. However, He got a wonderful gift from his father, the Pragmatist... the gift of common sense.
It became clear, suddenly, how to handle the situation. The conversation continued like this:
Mom: (looking my son square in in eye) "Well Bubba? Are they right?"
A: "What?"
M: "They said you're weird. Are you weird?"
A: "I don't know. No. No, I'm not weird. What's 'weird' mean?"
M: It means, different from everyone else. Special. INTERESTING, Funky and cool."
A: "So, it's GOOD?"
M: "I think so, but that's just me. You have to decide that for yourself Buddy."
A: "Why would they call me that, if they don't want to be my friend?"
M: "Because they don't get it. They don't get you. You're too cool for them."
A: "Ooooh..."
M: "So, let me ask you again, Are you weird?"
A: "Yup!"
M: "And what do you think you should say if someone calls you weird?"
A: "Thank you?"
M: "Exactly."
We went on to discuss the BIG difference between being a leader, and being "bossy." Barking orders and not playing by the rules is being "bossy," is NOT ok, and if WAS acting that way, "knock it off." By contrast, a true leader is compassionate and adaptable. Leaders do not NEED to be followed, but WILL lead, as required. We gave Aiden examples of his own leadership qualities, like doing chores without being asked, helping Ryan with his reading or playing with Kay busy so that Mommy can make dinner. It is a wonderful quality that we are proud to see in him, every day.
Then came the hard part of the discussion... BULLIES. All people need to feel important, but that shutting another person out of a group, belittling or intimidating others to make oneself feel in control, important or special is VERY WRONG. No one should EVER feel pressured to act out of character. We told our son that if someone tries to shut him out, just say, "Ok, great. Whatever makes you happy," and move on. As long as he understands that there is nothing wrong with him, and knows and likes himself, he stays in control of who himself and his own life. In a nutshell, My husband and I told him the "Abridged" philosophy of Eleanor Roosevelt:
The story goes that Madame Roosevelt was questioned during a White House press conference about the "snub" of the Secretary of Labor at a recent event. Her response, according to the 1935 (AP) article was in classic Eleanor Roosevelt fashion:
“A snub” defined the first lady, “is the effort of a person who feels superior to make someone else feel inferior. To do so, he has to find someone who can be made to feel inferior.” She made clear she didn’t think the labor secretary fell within the category of the “snubable.” (1)
In terms that he would understand, we told him to remember that, "only YOU can decide who you are in your life. NO ONE gets that right but you. If someone doesn't want to play with you, that's ok. If they say, "I don't like you," reply with, "Congratulations," and walk away. If they keep bothering you, tell the teacher. If they don't stop, tell US. But always remember, the problem is THEIRS - NOT YOURS." I guess it DOES go back to that basic philosophy, whether you are five years old, six, 20 or 38. No one can MAKE you feel inferior without YOUR consent.
My son went to school the next day with his head held high (albeit 15 minutes late... not unusual) but self-assured. As he entered the building I said, as I do every day, "I love you! I'm very proud of you!" He smiled and said, "I know. I love you, Mom."
That is the best I can hope for; that he truly DOES believe in himself. For the time being, it's what I have to believe, and hope I'm ready for the next time...
Danielle Burnett
(1) Source: http://quoteinvestigator.com/2012/04/30/no-one-inferior/ (1935 March 26, News And Courier, Heart Balm Suit Ban Given Support By Mrs. Roosevelt, Page 7, Charleston, South Carolina. Google News Archive)
That is the best I can hope for; that he truly DOES believe in himself. For the time being, it's what I have to believe, and hope I'm ready for the next time...
Danielle Burnett
(1) Source: http://quoteinvestigator.com/2012/04/30/no-one-inferior/ (1935 March 26, News And Courier, Heart Balm Suit Ban Given Support By Mrs. Roosevelt, Page 7, Charleston, South Carolina. Google News Archive)
Monday, July 30, 2012
Simplicity of life, through the eyes of Genius
Benjamin Franklin, Isaac Newton, Beethoven, Socrates, Jesus of Nazareth, Mark Twain, Nietzche, Edgar Allen Poe, Charlie Chaplin, Galileo, Paul Gauguin, Gautama Buddha, Irving Berlin, John Nash, Pablo Picasso, Mohandes Ghandi, Janis Joplin, Hunter S. Thompson, Howard Hughes...
Pioneers, eccentrics, some insane, some simply ahead of their time, some outcast in many circles, some tortured souls, desperately wanting to be understood, while not even understanding themselves, and SOME that viewed their naysayers, with apathy, disdain, empathy, pity, and in some cases, gleeful amusement. But ALL, remained true to their unique form of expression, and we are better for it.
Naysayers be damned!
"How strange is the lot of us mortals! Each of us is here for a brief sojourn; for what purpose he knows not, though he sometimes thinks he senses it. But without deeper reflection one knows from daily life that one exists for other people -- first of all for those upon whose smiles and well-being our own happiness is wholly dependent, and then for the many, unknown to us, to whose destinies we are bound by the ties of sympathy. A hundred times every day I remind myself that my inner and outer life are based on the labors of other men, living and dead, and that I must exert myself in order to give in the same measure as I have received and am still receiving...
"I have never looked upon ease and happiness as ends in themselves -- this critical basis I call the ideal of a pigsty. The ideals that have lighted my way, and time after time have given me new courage to face life cheerfully, have been Kindness, Beauty, and Truth. Without the sense of kinship with men of like mind, without the occupation with the objective world, the eternally unattainable in the field of art and scientific endeavors, life would have seemed empty to me. The trite objects of human efforts -- possessions, outward success, luxury -- have always seemed to me contemptible.
"My passionate sense of social justice and social responsibility has always contrasted oddly with my pronounced lack of need for direct contact with other human beings and human communities. I am truly a 'lone traveler' and have never belonged to my country, my home, my friends, or even my immediate family, with my whole heart; in the face of all these ties, I have never lost a sense of distance and a need for solitude..."
"My political ideal is democracy. Let every man be respected as an individual and no man idolized. It is an irony of fate that I myself have been the recipient of excessive admiration and reverence from my fellow-beings, through no fault, and no merit, of my own. The cause of this may well be the desire, unattainable for many, to understand the few ideas to which I have with my feeble powers attained through ceaseless struggle...
"The most beautiful experience we can have is the mysterious. It is the fundamental emotion that stands at the cradle of true art and true science. Whoever does not know it and can no longer wonder, no longer marvel, is as good as dead, and his eyes are dimmed. It was the experience of mystery -- even if mixed with fear -- that engendered religion. A knowledge of the existence of something we cannot penetrate, our perceptions of the profoundest reason and the most radiant beauty, which only in their most primitive forms are accessible to our minds: it is this knowledge and this emotion that constitute true religiosity. In this sense, and only this sense, I am a deeply religious man... I am satisfied with the mystery of life's eternity and with a knowledge, a sense, of the marvelous structure of existence -- as well as the humble attempt to understand even a tiny portion of the Reason that manifests itself in nature."
Pioneers, eccentrics, some insane, some simply ahead of their time, some outcast in many circles, some tortured souls, desperately wanting to be understood, while not even understanding themselves, and SOME that viewed their naysayers, with apathy, disdain, empathy, pity, and in some cases, gleeful amusement. But ALL, remained true to their unique form of expression, and we are better for it.
Naysayers be damned!
One such historical enigma that continues to hold my fascination is Albert Einstien. The following are excerpts OF an excerpt of a much larger essay, (everybody got that?!) that I found in a web exhibit at the American Institute of Physics: http://www.aip.org/history/einstein/essay.htm/
Don't ask how I landed on a website about Physics. I haven't the foggiest, personally.
Though the words in the following essay, are not mine, I have felt them, lived them, and though I of course, would never put my faux blonde brain on a tier anywhere close to his genius I feel as though I could have penned much of this myself. I found several parts very inspirational and wanted to share a bit. I continue to be enamored with his ability very simply question, and often explain the complexities of life that seem to continue to plague the minds of so many looking for answers, myself included.
Plus, He was such a little cutie.
Don't ask how I landed on a website about Physics. I haven't the foggiest, personally.
Though the words in the following essay, are not mine, I have felt them, lived them, and though I of course, would never put my faux blonde brain on a tier anywhere close to his genius I feel as though I could have penned much of this myself. I found several parts very inspirational and wanted to share a bit. I continue to be enamored with his ability very simply question, and often explain the complexities of life that seem to continue to plague the minds of so many looking for answers, myself included.
Plus, He was such a little cutie.
"How strange is the lot of us mortals! Each of us is here for a brief sojourn; for what purpose he knows not, though he sometimes thinks he senses it. But without deeper reflection one knows from daily life that one exists for other people -- first of all for those upon whose smiles and well-being our own happiness is wholly dependent, and then for the many, unknown to us, to whose destinies we are bound by the ties of sympathy. A hundred times every day I remind myself that my inner and outer life are based on the labors of other men, living and dead, and that I must exert myself in order to give in the same measure as I have received and am still receiving...
"I have never looked upon ease and happiness as ends in themselves -- this critical basis I call the ideal of a pigsty. The ideals that have lighted my way, and time after time have given me new courage to face life cheerfully, have been Kindness, Beauty, and Truth. Without the sense of kinship with men of like mind, without the occupation with the objective world, the eternally unattainable in the field of art and scientific endeavors, life would have seemed empty to me. The trite objects of human efforts -- possessions, outward success, luxury -- have always seemed to me contemptible.
"My passionate sense of social justice and social responsibility has always contrasted oddly with my pronounced lack of need for direct contact with other human beings and human communities. I am truly a 'lone traveler' and have never belonged to my country, my home, my friends, or even my immediate family, with my whole heart; in the face of all these ties, I have never lost a sense of distance and a need for solitude..."
"My political ideal is democracy. Let every man be respected as an individual and no man idolized. It is an irony of fate that I myself have been the recipient of excessive admiration and reverence from my fellow-beings, through no fault, and no merit, of my own. The cause of this may well be the desire, unattainable for many, to understand the few ideas to which I have with my feeble powers attained through ceaseless struggle...
"The most beautiful experience we can have is the mysterious. It is the fundamental emotion that stands at the cradle of true art and true science. Whoever does not know it and can no longer wonder, no longer marvel, is as good as dead, and his eyes are dimmed. It was the experience of mystery -- even if mixed with fear -- that engendered religion. A knowledge of the existence of something we cannot penetrate, our perceptions of the profoundest reason and the most radiant beauty, which only in their most primitive forms are accessible to our minds: it is this knowledge and this emotion that constitute true religiosity. In this sense, and only this sense, I am a deeply religious man... I am satisfied with the mystery of life's eternity and with a knowledge, a sense, of the marvelous structure of existence -- as well as the humble attempt to understand even a tiny portion of the Reason that manifests itself in nature."
A larger excerpt of the full essay was found in a web exhibit at the American Institute of Physics: http://www.aip.org/history/einstein/essay.htm/
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
Empathy or Apathy.
“Never, never be afraid to do what's right, especially if the
well-being of a person or animal is at stake. Society's punishments are small compared
to the wounds we inflict on our soul when we look the other way.” - Martin Luther
King Jr.
Lesson for the day. There's no worse feeling than that of complete insignificance. It may be YOUR life, but remember that you live it in the company of, and in collaboration with everyone around you. The world does not revolve around one person, but that same person can have a PROFOUND affect on the world around them and beyond. Live YOUR life, by all means, with no apologies for being who you are. JUST PLEASE REMEMBER, that YOUR personal actions, or lack thereof, reflects WHO YOU ARE. And, although this analogy has been done to death, it still applies here. A drop of water within a still pond creates a ripple effect that extends to the ponds' outer banks. You might not be able to see the effect, but it is there. The current keeps its movement. You are not immune to cause and effect.
Even comments that you speak for yourself has an effect on everyone
around you. Phrases like, "F*ck My Life" or "I hate today" has
NO productive value. Now I am NOBODY'S judge. I am guilty of saying "I hate
today," - OFTEN, a lot more than I would like to admit. As a voice of experience,
I can tell you that this only brings my attitude further down, and more often than
not, kills my day completely. It's like saying "F*ck You" to God, throwing
the gift of another day back with disdain. Looking at it from a completely agnostic
standpoint, let's say you are having THE DAY from hell. Your attitude sucks, and
it wears all over your person. Whether you intend it or not you are putting a piss-poor
vibe out to everyone in your company. There will be a REACTION to your action, except
that, NOW you are getting it back, multiplied by ALL of NUMBER people you affected!
You didn't MEAN to, but BAM! Your whole damn week is dangerously close to getting
FLUSHED!
Call it Karma, if that's your thing. Point is, You get BACK what
you GIVE OUT.
On that same token, words UNSPOKEN or actions NOT TAKEN out of
apathetic disregard (it's not my problem, or, I'll get to them/it later,) can SCAR
every bit as much as disparagement. The emotional fallout is invisibility, unimportance,
resentment, returned apathy, vindictive spite, attention sought by acting out...
As HURTFUL as the words sent into the Universe out of anger, hurt, fear or frustration,
also hurtful are effect of an uncaring heart. At least we can blame emotional impulse
for the former. Apathy takes forethought, the end of resolve, GIVING UP.
Of course, in certain scenarios, walking away might be the best
thing if no productive discourse can be achieved. Some people NEED drama. Some LIKE
TO ARGUE. Period. In those cases, you can either return fire, guide them to the
nearest Community Theater or Law School (I can recommend a GREAT Law school for
anyone interested.) or release their "grip" on you and move on, head held
high.But even THOSE people need attention, affection, love, understanding... HELP.
To shut off one's heart, To turn yourself cold to the love in the world, is the
true sin. The true goal is to treat others as you wish to be treated. And Treat
YOURSELF and you would wish others would treat YOU.
Final thought:
There are some really DUMB Apps on FB. I have so many that I often forget they are
there. One of those Apps is "On this day of your life, God wants you to know."
I rarely look at it anymore. Then yesterday morning, as I was finishing up this
entry, I received this message in my notifications. "On this day of your life,
Danielle, we believe God wants you to know ... that what you say and what you do
matters. When you show kindness to others, your words and actions have a positive
ripple effect which spreads out to affect many people. The same thing happens when
you are impatient, intolerant or indifferent to others. What kind of effect do you
want to have?"
Damn.
Monday, April 2, 2012
Blue Monday.
Well, today is light it up blue day!
This is my first year as an "Autism Mom." I'm still getting used to that phrase, and my family is still learning our way around, but I find myself today proud as can be of my son, Ryan, our family and all we've overcome since Ryan's new journey began back in September, 2011. There have been ups and downs since then, moments when I wasn't sure we would make it through all of the changes, but it is April 2nd, World Autism Awareness Day, and here we stand, stronger in so many ways, than we've ever been.
One thing I'm learning about Autism, is that there is no right or wrong way of living with it. From day one we were told, "YOU are the best advocates that your child will ever have." I want to thank someone here and now. I am stronger, and more vocal in raising support for Autism research and understanding, IN VERY LARGE PART because of Laurel Collins, Ryan's Advocate during OUR path of discovery. Laurel gave us the tools to help our son succeed, to help us grow as champions for our son. We would NEVER have grown so quickly, and Ryan would NEVER have received all that his school system gave to him, without all of Laurel's help. I will never be able to thank her enough for that.
I'm so much more secure of myself as a person and parent now, than I was on December 2, 2011, the day we got Ryan's official diagnosis of Autistic Disorder. That day was mired in regret-that we dropped the ball on our son, fear- that others would be "mean" to him, or not give him a chance, anger- feeling let down so badly by so many that should have have my son's best interests at heart, and doubt- that we would be able to do right by our little boy. I pictured Ryan's beautiful, smiling face and cried, BUT the only feeling that I NEVER HAD was SHAME IN MY SON. With all the uncertainty, wondering about the road ahead, I have never, from the day I first saw his face, doubted that Ryan could rule the world someday. This diagnosis changed NOTHING for me in that regard. My Ryan was and IS still my Ryan. If anything, We are prouder of him than ever. That day, my pride did not extend to myself. I was a bad mother. I had let him down. It took awhile for me to get over that, and feel like I could handle all of this. I'm still working on it.
TODAY, RIGHT NOW, I feel like I can handle anything. Even as we face stresses from the possibility that Ryan is having Absence Seizures, and the EEG's and MRI'S that go with it, juggling ABA'S, BCBA'S, ABCD's (I made that up) SPED Directors, teachers, Doctors, etc. etc. etc., I feel good about the path ahead and the steps that I am treading now have a much longer, more self-assured gait.
TOMORROW, I might be polar opposite of how I am today. As I said, because Ryan is so high functioning and doesn't "look the part" of an Autistic child, it becomes difficult at times, to explain his behavior, particularly during an episode. I've been told, somewhat mockingly, that Autism is the new flavor of the month, like ADHD was, and have been judged for giving my son an unnecessary diagnosis. During these moments, the talons come out, and I find myself wanting to act in VERY NOT Christian ways (not that I'm much of a good Christian to begin with...) and fight my own emotions (as most friends will tell you, I can't NOT cry when I get upset.) to get over their ignorance.
At this moment, as I sift through remnants left behind from the "Tornado of 2011" that passed through the small town of our lives I am fortunate to find our home still standing. It's been awhile since I last posted on this blog. So much has happened that I wasn't sure where to start back up. I was afraid to speak my mind, I think. But fear is not a place I like to dwell in. I have THREE AMAZING children and a wonderful husband, and a life that is well on it's way to being GREAT. And I want to write about it! This diary is about my own path of evolution. Today's post is about Ryan, Autism, and what the merging of these two entities has taught me.
Ryan sees in black and white, but loves with a heart that is a RAINBOW of color. He lives a completely authentic life. There is no malice in his heart, no ability to lie. He lives 100% in the moment. Ryan wants to be like his ABA, "Mr. Ben" and work with kids like him when he grows up. I'm not sure he even understands what growing up means. I don't think he understand what "10 minutes from now" means. But I do know he has a purpose and he WILL succeed. Through Ryan, I am learning to understand the true GIFT that is "living in the moment," free of self-doubt, the Superego and all that negative B.S. that has held ME back my entire life. He stops and smells the roses, and even though they make him sneeze, he laughs about it. He catches sight of all of the rainbows. The ability to live FULLY within his heart is a gift that Ryan is passing on to me. Just by watching him, I am learning to live life as he does.
However, I would like to note, as I visit many of the Autism network pages, and in my interactions with other parents affected by ASD, that GIFT is NOT a word that I will ever again use to describe Autism. I HAVE been guilty of this, and sincerely apologize, for inadvertently causing any other ASD parent pain. I can't imagine the hell that some of these families suffer. Every case is different. Some are high on the spectrum, like Ryan. Some can't move or speak. Some parents wonder if their child will have any quality of life whatsoever. Ryan has a great future ahead, and I KNOW how lucky we are for that!
If you are reading this, I hope that you will take some time today to visit the Autism Speaks website, and get more information. http://www.autismspeaks.org/what-autism. ASD is SUCH a wide spectrum, and SO worthy of understanding.
Much love to all of you,
Danielle
This is my first year as an "Autism Mom." I'm still getting used to that phrase, and my family is still learning our way around, but I find myself today proud as can be of my son, Ryan, our family and all we've overcome since Ryan's new journey began back in September, 2011. There have been ups and downs since then, moments when I wasn't sure we would make it through all of the changes, but it is April 2nd, World Autism Awareness Day, and here we stand, stronger in so many ways, than we've ever been.
One thing I'm learning about Autism, is that there is no right or wrong way of living with it. From day one we were told, "YOU are the best advocates that your child will ever have." I want to thank someone here and now. I am stronger, and more vocal in raising support for Autism research and understanding, IN VERY LARGE PART because of Laurel Collins, Ryan's Advocate during OUR path of discovery. Laurel gave us the tools to help our son succeed, to help us grow as champions for our son. We would NEVER have grown so quickly, and Ryan would NEVER have received all that his school system gave to him, without all of Laurel's help. I will never be able to thank her enough for that.
I'm so much more secure of myself as a person and parent now, than I was on December 2, 2011, the day we got Ryan's official diagnosis of Autistic Disorder. That day was mired in regret-that we dropped the ball on our son, fear- that others would be "mean" to him, or not give him a chance, anger- feeling let down so badly by so many that should have have my son's best interests at heart, and doubt- that we would be able to do right by our little boy. I pictured Ryan's beautiful, smiling face and cried, BUT the only feeling that I NEVER HAD was SHAME IN MY SON. With all the uncertainty, wondering about the road ahead, I have never, from the day I first saw his face, doubted that Ryan could rule the world someday. This diagnosis changed NOTHING for me in that regard. My Ryan was and IS still my Ryan. If anything, We are prouder of him than ever. That day, my pride did not extend to myself. I was a bad mother. I had let him down. It took awhile for me to get over that, and feel like I could handle all of this. I'm still working on it.
TODAY, RIGHT NOW, I feel like I can handle anything. Even as we face stresses from the possibility that Ryan is having Absence Seizures, and the EEG's and MRI'S that go with it, juggling ABA'S, BCBA'S, ABCD's (I made that up) SPED Directors, teachers, Doctors, etc. etc. etc., I feel good about the path ahead and the steps that I am treading now have a much longer, more self-assured gait.
TOMORROW, I might be polar opposite of how I am today. As I said, because Ryan is so high functioning and doesn't "look the part" of an Autistic child, it becomes difficult at times, to explain his behavior, particularly during an episode. I've been told, somewhat mockingly, that Autism is the new flavor of the month, like ADHD was, and have been judged for giving my son an unnecessary diagnosis. During these moments, the talons come out, and I find myself wanting to act in VERY NOT Christian ways (not that I'm much of a good Christian to begin with...) and fight my own emotions (as most friends will tell you, I can't NOT cry when I get upset.) to get over their ignorance.
At this moment, as I sift through remnants left behind from the "Tornado of 2011" that passed through the small town of our lives I am fortunate to find our home still standing. It's been awhile since I last posted on this blog. So much has happened that I wasn't sure where to start back up. I was afraid to speak my mind, I think. But fear is not a place I like to dwell in. I have THREE AMAZING children and a wonderful husband, and a life that is well on it's way to being GREAT. And I want to write about it! This diary is about my own path of evolution. Today's post is about Ryan, Autism, and what the merging of these two entities has taught me.
Ryan sees in black and white, but loves with a heart that is a RAINBOW of color. He lives a completely authentic life. There is no malice in his heart, no ability to lie. He lives 100% in the moment. Ryan wants to be like his ABA, "Mr. Ben" and work with kids like him when he grows up. I'm not sure he even understands what growing up means. I don't think he understand what "10 minutes from now" means. But I do know he has a purpose and he WILL succeed. Through Ryan, I am learning to understand the true GIFT that is "living in the moment," free of self-doubt, the Superego and all that negative B.S. that has held ME back my entire life. He stops and smells the roses, and even though they make him sneeze, he laughs about it. He catches sight of all of the rainbows. The ability to live FULLY within his heart is a gift that Ryan is passing on to me. Just by watching him, I am learning to live life as he does.
However, I would like to note, as I visit many of the Autism network pages, and in my interactions with other parents affected by ASD, that GIFT is NOT a word that I will ever again use to describe Autism. I HAVE been guilty of this, and sincerely apologize, for inadvertently causing any other ASD parent pain. I can't imagine the hell that some of these families suffer. Every case is different. Some are high on the spectrum, like Ryan. Some can't move or speak. Some parents wonder if their child will have any quality of life whatsoever. Ryan has a great future ahead, and I KNOW how lucky we are for that!
If you are reading this, I hope that you will take some time today to visit the Autism Speaks website, and get more information. http://www.autismspeaks.org/what-autism. ASD is SUCH a wide spectrum, and SO worthy of understanding.
Much love to all of you,
Danielle
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Under the Bus
Play your cards close to the vest
Lock it safe inside
Be true to you and yours
Because no matter
How you try
To please them,
They'll find another reason,
To remind.
Under the bus
Black tire tracks across my back
Thin skinned, having to defend
To hypocrites like you
Trying hard, to keep perspective,
But the wheels keep rolling on through,
It's never you.
Lock it safe inside
Be true to you and yours
Because no matter
How you try
To please them,
They'll find another reason,
To remind.
Under the bus
Black tire tracks across my back
Thin skinned, having to defend
To hypocrites like you
Trying hard, to keep perspective,
But the wheels keep rolling on through,
It's never you.
Monday, December 19, 2011
The Blindside
I've had almost a month of trying to figure out where I stand with this whole thing, and honestly, I'm not sure that I'm any closer to getting any sense of inner peace and resolution from the most recent turn of events. In fact, I'm pretty sure that I am spiraling the other way. Evolution is supposed to be about moving forward, is it not? Learning and growing are essential in life, in order that we might live to a ripe old age of peace and enlightenment... or so I've been told, something like that. My friends who can find the good in everything are probably not going to appreciate that, truthfully, I'm NOT.feeling.enlightened.
I'm not sure what the hell is wrong with me. My kid doesn't have a death sentence. He's not losing a limb. We aren't living in a cardboard box. He doesn't have an incurable... well, that's not actually true. And THAT might be the crux of my problem.
I can't fix this. I can't "fix" my son. How do I deal with the fact that as a parent, we are the saviors of our children's souls, their primary caregivers, the protectors, the ones that "fix" our children's "problems?" My son has Autism. My son has Autism and I can't fix it. I can't magically take Autism away from him. He has a stigma over his head now. He's going to be looked at differently. With sympathy. With discomfort from ignorant assholes who don't see anything but a title and a character in a Dustin Hoffman movie. With denial, because truthfully, unless you were told, or someone knowledgeable of Autism, you'd never be able to see it. My son is vibrant, joyous, bold, ferocious. He conquers life with the zeal of a kid on Christmas morning. He LOVES life and loves his family, and I swear to God, I've never been in love with any human being in my life more than when Ryan pulls my face down into his, looks me square in the eye and says, "I love you Mommy."
Perhaps that's why I missed it. I didn't know what signs to look for. Ryan's problems began to surface at about two and half years old. His speech is severely stunted. He can't "attend" (hold attention) for more than 1 minute. Yet, he can sit on the computer for hours if we were to let him do it, and hyper-focuses on things like his Thomas trains, songs or rhythms, numbers or letters. He has definite sensory issues. He is almost always peripheral, socially awkward, VERY rough and tumble in play times. The near constant need to touch or to be touched, makes him come on very strong and "weird out" some kids... and their parents. Truthfully, I can't blame them. Ryan is a very aggressive kid, (standing on his head, running into walls, groping our arms, head-butting, jumping in our lap pushing & shoving, etc.) Everything he does is with intensity, including his interactions with other kids, OR, he's either completely peripheral, living in a zone that we like to call,"Ryan-land." There's no middle ground with Ryan. Hell, he KISSES hard! That being said, know that he's NEVER intentionally hurtful. I don't think the boy has a malicious bone in his body. Every intention is pure and unfiltered.
My husband and I have no doubt that with the right level of education, Ryan will go on to rule the world someday. But there is so much to sort out. The well-intentioned advice coming from EVERYWHERE, ALL AT ONCE has taken it's toll on me, physically and emotionally. I don't see anything "wrong" with Ryan, just that he has to go about things differently than most people. If anything, I sort of wonder if he's is more evolved than the rest of us. Autism looks a bit like a gift to me. Ryan lives 100% in the moment. Everything he does is with love and pure intention. He doesn't stress about things of no interest to him, but puts his entire heart and soul into what IS of interest, like computers, or music. He's an innocent. The constant need of aggressive physical attention/stimulation can be exhausting and extremely frustrating, but his strengths BECAUSE of his Autism are those that I actually wouldn't mind having in my own life. Indifference to naysayers, focus, drive, perseverance... don't we ALL want these attributes within ourselves?
I know that we will have to make some concessions for Ryan's differences. However, because the world is an unforgiving place, fixated and rigid, Ryan is going to have to be like everyone else, only better, because NOW he has a handicap that folks will expect him to overcome. This, to be completely frank, PISSES ME OFF more that I can even put into words. I don't see it. The only reason that I bring it up is because I know the thoughts are out there. I've heard it. I've SAID it. I will never say it again.
That's all I've got for now. Evolution takes time.
I'm not sure what the hell is wrong with me. My kid doesn't have a death sentence. He's not losing a limb. We aren't living in a cardboard box. He doesn't have an incurable... well, that's not actually true. And THAT might be the crux of my problem.
I can't fix this. I can't "fix" my son. How do I deal with the fact that as a parent, we are the saviors of our children's souls, their primary caregivers, the protectors, the ones that "fix" our children's "problems?" My son has Autism. My son has Autism and I can't fix it. I can't magically take Autism away from him. He has a stigma over his head now. He's going to be looked at differently. With sympathy. With discomfort from ignorant assholes who don't see anything but a title and a character in a Dustin Hoffman movie. With denial, because truthfully, unless you were told, or someone knowledgeable of Autism, you'd never be able to see it. My son is vibrant, joyous, bold, ferocious. He conquers life with the zeal of a kid on Christmas morning. He LOVES life and loves his family, and I swear to God, I've never been in love with any human being in my life more than when Ryan pulls my face down into his, looks me square in the eye and says, "I love you Mommy."
Perhaps that's why I missed it. I didn't know what signs to look for. Ryan's problems began to surface at about two and half years old. His speech is severely stunted. He can't "attend" (hold attention) for more than 1 minute. Yet, he can sit on the computer for hours if we were to let him do it, and hyper-focuses on things like his Thomas trains, songs or rhythms, numbers or letters. He has definite sensory issues. He is almost always peripheral, socially awkward, VERY rough and tumble in play times. The near constant need to touch or to be touched, makes him come on very strong and "weird out" some kids... and their parents. Truthfully, I can't blame them. Ryan is a very aggressive kid, (standing on his head, running into walls, groping our arms, head-butting, jumping in our lap pushing & shoving, etc.) Everything he does is with intensity, including his interactions with other kids, OR, he's either completely peripheral, living in a zone that we like to call,"Ryan-land." There's no middle ground with Ryan. Hell, he KISSES hard! That being said, know that he's NEVER intentionally hurtful. I don't think the boy has a malicious bone in his body. Every intention is pure and unfiltered.
My husband and I have no doubt that with the right level of education, Ryan will go on to rule the world someday. But there is so much to sort out. The well-intentioned advice coming from EVERYWHERE, ALL AT ONCE has taken it's toll on me, physically and emotionally. I don't see anything "wrong" with Ryan, just that he has to go about things differently than most people. If anything, I sort of wonder if he's is more evolved than the rest of us. Autism looks a bit like a gift to me. Ryan lives 100% in the moment. Everything he does is with love and pure intention. He doesn't stress about things of no interest to him, but puts his entire heart and soul into what IS of interest, like computers, or music. He's an innocent. The constant need of aggressive physical attention/stimulation can be exhausting and extremely frustrating, but his strengths BECAUSE of his Autism are those that I actually wouldn't mind having in my own life. Indifference to naysayers, focus, drive, perseverance... don't we ALL want these attributes within ourselves?
I know that we will have to make some concessions for Ryan's differences. However, because the world is an unforgiving place, fixated and rigid, Ryan is going to have to be like everyone else, only better, because NOW he has a handicap that folks will expect him to overcome. This, to be completely frank, PISSES ME OFF more that I can even put into words. I don't see it. The only reason that I bring it up is because I know the thoughts are out there. I've heard it. I've SAID it. I will never say it again.
That's all I've got for now. Evolution takes time.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Anxiety
I don't remember my first Anxiety attack. I've had them several times a month and sometimes, several times a week for as far back as I can remember. Many members of my family battle with Anxiety in varying degrees. Every day dealings with Anxiety are more often than not, a nag of sadness, that punches through the mundane chores, like washing dishes, or pangs of worry in the middle of playing with my kids. Those are not attacks, but simply a symptom of the deeper condition of Chronic Anxiety that I live with every day. Usually, because of the Anti-Anxiety medication that I have taken since my early 20's, attacks are quick and can be curbed quickly with Vitamin B, a funny movie, taking a walk, or conversing with someone and just voicing that what I am feeling IS Anxiety and not necessarily rooted in cause and effect.
Other times, less often, but occasionally, attacks can last days.
As I've grown along in life, I've learned to distinguish some of my triggers and keep my distance from them. A negative person, who can't seem to find the bright side in anything, will set me off every time. Other obvious triggers include unfinished projects or missed deadlines, Mud Season, checking my bank account balance, a messy house, or fighting children. These are obvious, rectifiable triggers that can be minimized (although mud season and the bank account are kind of tough to avoid) by staying ahead of the game and well organized. If things become unorganized however, forget it. I'm a basket case.
The worst attacks however, occur out of nowhere. Just last week, while nursing the baby, the monster reared its ugly head, and while damn near hyper-ventilating, I had to call my husband home from work. That kind of attack is rare, but it does happen. Twice, once in my early 20's, and once during a Senior year choral concert, being taped for cable television, I simply passed out. I brushed it off to my friends as being too hot under the camera lights. But the truth was too embarrassing to explain. My nickname in high-school was MANIC! I did not was any more stigma attached to me.
The most physical manifestations were late in high school and throughout college, when I suffered through fetal position level stomach cramps. In fact, on three different occasions, I visited the E.R. in distress, convinced that my appendix was rupturing. Finally a Dr. explained that, because the extreme level of mental stress that I placed on myself, my upper and lower intestines were actually stretching and contracting. The pain I was feeling was actually the release of pressure from my intestines on my stomache and other internal organs. He prescribed mild medication and holistic therapy (Meditation, herbs like St. John's Wort, Vitamin B complex,) and over time, the attacks, in this form anyway, ceased. Increases and decreases in medication dosage, and alternative methods of therapy have helped me to deal with the periodic depression that can arise with Chronic Anxiety. Whether this is a disease of the mind or body, I don't particularly care. I'll let the experts debate that one. However, I have come to accept that it IS a disease, a VERY REAL CONDITION, which I will deal with for life. I can choose to either let it cripple me, or do what I can on my end to push through the attacks and live in the sun as much as possible, despite the clouds that occasionally loom on the horizon. It's not always easy. In fact, at times, it's next to impossible. But like any illness, you make adjustments for your condition and the most of your situation. Nowadays I embrace my Manic nickname as an old friend, even using it occasionally as an alias. ;-)
It is extremely irritating, those who brush this illness off as an attention-seeking ploy for drama. Until you HAVE an attack, it's easy to make fun of it. Understand, that truly, I am not a sad person. Especially in my support of others, I'm an Optimist, and work very hard to keep above the depression. The hard part for some seems to be mustering compassion and understanding that everything is not quite so black and white. Everyone does not come in cookie cutter shapes and sizes, and that goes for the mind as well. I would give anything in the world to live a life free from the pallor of constant worry. Those days that I DO wake up without the cloud over my head truly feels like the best day of my life! While I do understand that some people do allow it to cripple them and expect people to simply take cater to their handicap, I know that is not me. That is not a lot of us. Like any other disease, there needs to be a certain level of understanding and patience. I am a strong human being, but I battle a strong illness. You wouldn't fault a person with high cholesterol for needing Lipitor, don't fault me for needing Zoloft. I hope that I have brought better understanding to those of you who've had the great luxury of never experiencing an Anxiety attack and DO want to understand. I suppose I could say that I wish you could experience it, just to understand what one is like, but I wouldn't wish an attack on anyone.
Other times, less often, but occasionally, attacks can last days.
As I've grown along in life, I've learned to distinguish some of my triggers and keep my distance from them. A negative person, who can't seem to find the bright side in anything, will set me off every time. Other obvious triggers include unfinished projects or missed deadlines, Mud Season, checking my bank account balance, a messy house, or fighting children. These are obvious, rectifiable triggers that can be minimized (although mud season and the bank account are kind of tough to avoid) by staying ahead of the game and well organized. If things become unorganized however, forget it. I'm a basket case.
The worst attacks however, occur out of nowhere. Just last week, while nursing the baby, the monster reared its ugly head, and while damn near hyper-ventilating, I had to call my husband home from work. That kind of attack is rare, but it does happen. Twice, once in my early 20's, and once during a Senior year choral concert, being taped for cable television, I simply passed out. I brushed it off to my friends as being too hot under the camera lights. But the truth was too embarrassing to explain. My nickname in high-school was MANIC! I did not was any more stigma attached to me.
The most physical manifestations were late in high school and throughout college, when I suffered through fetal position level stomach cramps. In fact, on three different occasions, I visited the E.R. in distress, convinced that my appendix was rupturing. Finally a Dr. explained that, because the extreme level of mental stress that I placed on myself, my upper and lower intestines were actually stretching and contracting. The pain I was feeling was actually the release of pressure from my intestines on my stomache and other internal organs. He prescribed mild medication and holistic therapy (Meditation, herbs like St. John's Wort, Vitamin B complex,) and over time, the attacks, in this form anyway, ceased. Increases and decreases in medication dosage, and alternative methods of therapy have helped me to deal with the periodic depression that can arise with Chronic Anxiety. Whether this is a disease of the mind or body, I don't particularly care. I'll let the experts debate that one. However, I have come to accept that it IS a disease, a VERY REAL CONDITION, which I will deal with for life. I can choose to either let it cripple me, or do what I can on my end to push through the attacks and live in the sun as much as possible, despite the clouds that occasionally loom on the horizon. It's not always easy. In fact, at times, it's next to impossible. But like any illness, you make adjustments for your condition and the most of your situation. Nowadays I embrace my Manic nickname as an old friend, even using it occasionally as an alias. ;-)
It is extremely irritating, those who brush this illness off as an attention-seeking ploy for drama. Until you HAVE an attack, it's easy to make fun of it. Understand, that truly, I am not a sad person. Especially in my support of others, I'm an Optimist, and work very hard to keep above the depression. The hard part for some seems to be mustering compassion and understanding that everything is not quite so black and white. Everyone does not come in cookie cutter shapes and sizes, and that goes for the mind as well. I would give anything in the world to live a life free from the pallor of constant worry. Those days that I DO wake up without the cloud over my head truly feels like the best day of my life! While I do understand that some people do allow it to cripple them and expect people to simply take cater to their handicap, I know that is not me. That is not a lot of us. Like any other disease, there needs to be a certain level of understanding and patience. I am a strong human being, but I battle a strong illness. You wouldn't fault a person with high cholesterol for needing Lipitor, don't fault me for needing Zoloft. I hope that I have brought better understanding to those of you who've had the great luxury of never experiencing an Anxiety attack and DO want to understand. I suppose I could say that I wish you could experience it, just to understand what one is like, but I wouldn't wish an attack on anyone.
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Back & Forth
“You have to go forward to go back" - Gene Wilder, Willy Wonka & The Chocolate Factory, 1966.
It's a cycle that I've repeated, over, and over and over throughout my life, though I recognize the need for it to be immediately rectified. I am a self-sabotagist - I don't care if it's not a real word, I'm using it.
I try. REALLY. It is NOT a 'gift' that I want. Here's the problem: How do I alter a personality flaw that I've have practiced for so long that the act of it feels INNATE? Usually I wake up with the outlook, "Today is a new day." Unfortunately, my new day usually turns into same shit, different day, by Noon, and I end up back at square one.
Self Sabotage is a nasty little sickness of the mind. It will allow you to justify, ANY negative thought that comes in. "Obviously, if you WANTED to change, You'd do it. Or are you lazy?" "You don't deserve a good life, your kids, your husband... They deserve so much better..." These are legit thoughts that plague my mind... OFTEN. For anyone who follows the mantra that "We are happy because we deserve to be," Yeah, I never got that memo. I haven't earned it yet.
But I AM WORKING ON IT.
Every time I kiss my daughter, I look into her eyes and I realize that she is brand new. And she is happy. She's not happy because she's earned some RIGHT. She's happy because she is loved and feels love within herself. She is content. And I’m starting to realize, that it is NOT what you ARE. It is what you’ve LEARNED to be. And if it IS a learned behavior, than it can be UN-LEARNED.
Some days are easier than others. The days when 3 children are screaming and two have a bad diapers and I still haven’t sent the thank you cards from my daughter’s baby shower and she’s almost five months old, or the blog that I intended to write in every day and can’t make it happen more than once a month… Some days I want sit in the middle of my living room and just cry.
Other days, like for example, the day that I was driving home from a wedding gig in Newport, with my windows down and the music blaring, the sun slowly tanning my forearm as I drove, I took a look at my life from an outsider's perspective and said, "Yeah... this ain't so bad at all. It's pretty great, actually." Felt good. Felt very good.
But that is what life is. A series of steps forward and backwards until you eventually get to the point of destination. It might take me longer than I expected, but I will always keep trying. I don’t know how not to.
It's a cycle that I've repeated, over, and over and over throughout my life, though I recognize the need for it to be immediately rectified. I am a self-sabotagist - I don't care if it's not a real word, I'm using it.
I try. REALLY. It is NOT a 'gift' that I want. Here's the problem: How do I alter a personality flaw that I've have practiced for so long that the act of it feels INNATE? Usually I wake up with the outlook, "Today is a new day." Unfortunately, my new day usually turns into same shit, different day, by Noon, and I end up back at square one.
Self Sabotage is a nasty little sickness of the mind. It will allow you to justify, ANY negative thought that comes in. "Obviously, if you WANTED to change, You'd do it. Or are you lazy?" "You don't deserve a good life, your kids, your husband... They deserve so much better..." These are legit thoughts that plague my mind... OFTEN. For anyone who follows the mantra that "We are happy because we deserve to be," Yeah, I never got that memo. I haven't earned it yet.
But I AM WORKING ON IT.
Every time I kiss my daughter, I look into her eyes and I realize that she is brand new. And she is happy. She's not happy because she's earned some RIGHT. She's happy because she is loved and feels love within herself. She is content. And I’m starting to realize, that it is NOT what you ARE. It is what you’ve LEARNED to be. And if it IS a learned behavior, than it can be UN-LEARNED.
Some days are easier than others. The days when 3 children are screaming and two have a bad diapers and I still haven’t sent the thank you cards from my daughter’s baby shower and she’s almost five months old, or the blog that I intended to write in every day and can’t make it happen more than once a month… Some days I want sit in the middle of my living room and just cry.
Other days, like for example, the day that I was driving home from a wedding gig in Newport, with my windows down and the music blaring, the sun slowly tanning my forearm as I drove, I took a look at my life from an outsider's perspective and said, "Yeah... this ain't so bad at all. It's pretty great, actually." Felt good. Felt very good.
But that is what life is. A series of steps forward and backwards until you eventually get to the point of destination. It might take me longer than I expected, but I will always keep trying. I don’t know how not to.
Monday, July 11, 2011
Ode to Joy...
Yesterday I took a walk through "Paris."
The Essex Street Pedestrian Mall is an outdoor area of shops and businesses in Salem, well manicured and heavily traveled by tourists. One dance studio in the area will occasionally run its afternoon lessons with the second floor windows flung open to the street below. Beautiful music floods the street and the ears of passers by. One day might find you listening to a beautiful fluid Satie or Chopin composition, the next, an upbeat Django Reinhardt or Gershwin adds an extra spring to your step. I've never been to Paris, but every time that I get this rare chance to pass under the windows of the ballet studio, I am literally frozen in time for just a brief moment. I breathe in, make note of the color cast on the buildings by the afternoon sun, the softness of the air around me, and listen and look at the people, going about their day to day lives, sitting on benches, walking their dogs, gazing into jewelry store windows nearby. Although, I have not yet had the pleasure of visiting, in that brief moment I imagine that this is how it must feel to be in Paris. And I am filled with joy.
It never ceases to amaze me, the people who pass by this moment, completely oblivious to its charms. Perhaps, the rush to complete their errands is what brings swiftness to their step. Maybe they just don't like French music. Either way, it is interesting to see what brings joy to one person, while another is completely unfazed. Also amazing to me is the knowledge that this ONE PARTICULAR circumstance stops me in my tracks every time and holds me there in rapt attention, yet I pass by a million moments like this every day and pay it no mind whatsoever, or worse, find myself bothered by it's intrusion. How many of us live each moment of our lives with that level of joy, with the full appreciation that it deserves? How many of us, in our rush to get from point A to point B, would rather bypass the scenic route in favor of the undefined highway?
What IS Joy?
According to Websters, The definition of Joy is as follows:
a: the emotion evoked by well-being, success, or good fortune or by the prospect of possessing what one desires : delight
b : the expression or exhibition of such emotion : gaiety
c: a state of happiness or felicity : bliss
d: a source or cause of delight
What constitutes JOY? How do we achieve it for more than one occasional moment in time, and keep it in our hearts, learning to live within that joy continuously, so that these random "Paris moments" are not so few and far-between? Is joy learned? Are people just BORN with joy and appreciation, while others are born negative? It is certainly not a conscious effort on my part to miss these joyous moments, so why are there so many half-full moments left unexperienced? How do I get to a place of commonplace joy, without waiting for the other shoe to drop? That is my main goal in life - to get to a place in life that I can find joy without having to look for it, eventually enjoy a life of gratitude and pureness of heart. I do not expect anyone else will get anything out of this, other than the entertainment of my periodic rants. However, if my words affect your life for the better, PLEASE let me know, and in return, know that you brought an extra moment of joy to mine.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Someday
Someday I am going to be "that" lady. The one that ages into her Septuagenarian status with grace and poise, wears loose fitting, lightweight clothing, perfectly coiffed hair and an over-sized sun hat and sunglasses. The one who sits in her bamboo chaise lounger sipping home brewed iced tea and reading “Olivia” to her granddaughter in her lap while the late day sun begins it’s descent back into the earth.
Someday I will have a green thumb. There will be an overflowing English garden in the back yard and fresh flowers in antique vases all over the house, just picked vegetables on the kitchen counter, washed and ready to be prepared for dinner, and gigantic planters filled with exotic greens in every corner, especially in the garden room, off the dining area, where I will retire every evening before bed.
Someday I will travel the globe, seeing Greece, Rome, London, Paris, Ireland again, and Disney. ;-) I will indulge my fun side, my sense of adventure and need to try new cultures and take pictures in my minds’ eye, so that I can show God what I got out of this world he has made for us. I will make friends all around the world, have pen-pals in Thailand, and a vacation villa in Fiji, where I visit twice a year because we loan it out to friends and family the rest of the time. My husband and I will fall in love again and again in every new town that we discover, learning something new about one another every day, even then. Our children will see our childlike zeal with adult eyes and new found respect, and realize that there exist, actual “individuals” that raised them.
Someday, I will knit afghans. I will sip Chardonnay and play cards on Thursday evenings with my girlfriends and reminisce about our youth, back when I was a scatter brained, foul mouthed, occasional lush, with 3 small kids and a husband with a law practice in it’s fetal stages, living in a 900 square foot apartment and borrowing money from our parents every other week. I will don my rose-colored glasses and remember that it was an easier time, filled with laughter and growth, while conveniently forgetting the lesser moments, when self-doubt made me it’s constant companion and stress tied my stomach in knots. I will bask in the glow of a full life, living in the present, healthy and preparing for the many great moments ahead.
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