I love books. I love the feel of them, their consistency, the characters coming to life. I have hundreds of books of different sizes, shapes, genres, authors. Each one has a special place in my life and my heart. You see, my books are my friends.
I'm not crazy. I know books are objects that can't relate to me, can't understand me. I project those things on the books as a function of the fact that I find comfort and happiness from them.
Because of my general make up, I am a caretaker. Whether I should or not, I feel responsible for more people than not. I don't resent that. It does however make it hard for me to connect to people.
I'm a "heavy" person by nature. Small talk doesn't work for me. It's not that I don't care how your day went or how your mother is doing, I'm just generally thinking on another plane. I'm more likely to discuss the interpersonal dynamics of your office that create the environment that led to your good or bad day. My sister says I take things too seriously -- OK, a lot of people say that. It's not that I am or want to be a stick in the mud; it's just the way I'm wired.
I'd love to be able to relax around people and just kick back, but with few exceptions, I find myself distant and awkward. Even in a room full of people, I can feel so separate.
TV shows like Bones and NCIS center around groups of people who in many ways are like me. They're not quite like everyone else and think a little differently, but they've found a place where they belong just as they are. As with my books, I find comfort in watching these characters and their relationships. I'm projecting again.
My ability to empathize with others is acute. It's part of the reason I can be so intense. It's also part of the reason I love to read so much. The characters become so real and the story so personal. I have no real relationship with these things, but the connection feels quite real.
But like any other dream, consciousness comes and the connection fades. The sad thing is I can't seem to recreate the experience in real life, and some times, my soul starves for it. I feel lost.
I am lonely.
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Friday, January 28, 2011
What is love?
Sometimes, I hear about companies that I've loved and supported doing things or supporting causes that break my heart. This is one of them.
As often as I've lamented not being able to get my favorite breakfast on Sunday morning, I've always respected Chick-fil-a's commitment to making Sunday a day of rest and worship for their employees. (I do find it strange that they sponsor sporting events on Sundays which most likely require their employees to work them, but that's another story.) Well, no more.
When asked by a group if Chick-fil-a's charitable arm WinShape would accept GLBT guests at their retreat center, this was the response:
This video is fantastic. After you watch it, read the article at the link below. I hope after that you will join me in signing the petition to support a group of students in Indiana trying to do something about the injustice. I also won't be eating at a Chick-fil-a until they change their tune. If one of us is oppressed, we are all oppressed.
In the meantime, I will leave you with this obscure quote from a little book you may have at least heard of in all the debate about gay rights and gay marriage. It was probably written by some nut though.
Now, click this link and do something about it!
As often as I've lamented not being able to get my favorite breakfast on Sunday morning, I've always respected Chick-fil-a's commitment to making Sunday a day of rest and worship for their employees. (I do find it strange that they sponsor sporting events on Sundays which most likely require their employees to work them, but that's another story.) Well, no more.
When asked by a group if Chick-fil-a's charitable arm WinShape would accept GLBT guests at their retreat center, this was the response:
"WinShape Retreat defines marriage from the Biblical standard as being between one man and one woman. Groups/Individuals are welcome who offer wholesome, educational conferences and programs that are compatible with Biblical values and WinShape's purpose."You can get the full details at the link below, as well as all the gory details of the support Chick-fil-a lends to anti-gay groups. Part of the story includes the video below being removed from "Reel Love Video Challenge."
This video is fantastic. After you watch it, read the article at the link below. I hope after that you will join me in signing the petition to support a group of students in Indiana trying to do something about the injustice. I also won't be eating at a Chick-fil-a until they change their tune. If one of us is oppressed, we are all oppressed.
In the meantime, I will leave you with this obscure quote from a little book you may have at least heard of in all the debate about gay rights and gay marriage. It was probably written by some nut though.
1 Corinthians 13:1-13
If I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but do not have love, I have become a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal.
And if I have the gift of prophecy, and know all mysteries and all knowledge; and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing.
And if I give all my possessions to feed the poor, and if I deliver my body to be burned, but do not have love, it profits me nothing.
Love is patient, love is kind, and is not jealous; love does not brag and is not arrogant, does not act unbecomingly; it does not seek its own, is not provoked, does not take into account a wrong suffered, does not rejoice in unrighteousness, but rejoices with the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
Love never fails; but if there are gifts of prophecy, they will be done away; if there are tongues, they will cease; if there is knowledge, it will be done away.
For we know in part, and we prophesy in part; but when the perfect comes, the partial will be done away.
When I was a child, I used to speak as a child, think as a child, reason as a child; when I became a man, I did away with childish things.
For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face; now I know in part, but then I shall know fully just as I also have been fully known.
But now abide faith, hope, love, these three; but the greatest of these is love.
Now, click this link and do something about it!
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
After all these years
Today marks the 33rd anniversary of my father's death. I am 35.
It's so strange to miss someone and hurt so much after so long when you never really knew them.
I have a few memories that are more like still images. I don't remember what he looked like moving. Until I saw some old home movies, I felt like I'd never seen him move. He was almost a figment of my imagination, no more real to me than my stuffed rabbit. I don't remember what it felt like to touch him or how my name sounded when he spoke it. I don't know how he smelled.
It was so long ago, and the longer it is, the further away, less real, he seems. I can remember going to his grave when I was little before the grass had completely grown back. It makes me angry that I wasn't more cognitive back then to try and remember and hold on to those memories. I was so much closer then and had no idea.
Now, I struggle to remember what it was like to have been that close in time to when he really existed. I can't miss him really. It's more a longing to be connected, an overwhelming desire to have memories of my own, to have known my father.
I'm told I'm much like him. I look like him, though less so as I get older. I've had many people come back into my life that knew me when my daddy was alive. They tell us stories, share pictures, and we even got a video of him playing football in high school. Maybe one day a recording of his voice will surface. I can hope.
I didn't cry on this day when I was younger, but I do now. Joe is sweet and holds me. Henry licks away my tears. Tomorrow will come as it always does, and I'll keep on surviving. Breathe in, breathe out. Try to remember.
It's so strange to miss someone and hurt so much after so long when you never really knew them.
I have a few memories that are more like still images. I don't remember what he looked like moving. Until I saw some old home movies, I felt like I'd never seen him move. He was almost a figment of my imagination, no more real to me than my stuffed rabbit. I don't remember what it felt like to touch him or how my name sounded when he spoke it. I don't know how he smelled.
It was so long ago, and the longer it is, the further away, less real, he seems. I can remember going to his grave when I was little before the grass had completely grown back. It makes me angry that I wasn't more cognitive back then to try and remember and hold on to those memories. I was so much closer then and had no idea.
Now, I struggle to remember what it was like to have been that close in time to when he really existed. I can't miss him really. It's more a longing to be connected, an overwhelming desire to have memories of my own, to have known my father.
I'm told I'm much like him. I look like him, though less so as I get older. I've had many people come back into my life that knew me when my daddy was alive. They tell us stories, share pictures, and we even got a video of him playing football in high school. Maybe one day a recording of his voice will surface. I can hope.I didn't cry on this day when I was younger, but I do now. Joe is sweet and holds me. Henry licks away my tears. Tomorrow will come as it always does, and I'll keep on surviving. Breathe in, breathe out. Try to remember.
Sunday, October 31, 2010
What's my sentence?
Books, their authors and their characters inspire me. They appeal to my cerebral nature. At times in my life, I've felt trapped inside my mind, but I've always known that my life's journey would not be one of physical or emotional pursuits, but intellectual ones. I look for experiences that broaden my mind and help me put the physical and emotional world into perspective for me.
One of my favorite authors is Daniel Pink, and his new book Drive has spawned a project for him -- and now one for me. This will be another trip of self discovery for me. This video explains the exercise from Daniel Pink's book.
Two questions that can change your life from Daniel Pink on Vimeo.
I can imagine with my talent for verbosity I am in danger of becoming a rambling paragraph with no purpose, and I need to focus and find my sentence. Something else has come onto my radar in recent weeks that has my mind twisted in trying to understand intentions and perceptions. I'm hoping that my project will help me reconcile the two and find my sentence in the process.
So I ask you what sentence would you write about me? It doesn't have to be long or all encompassing. It doesn't have to be positive. I want to learn from this project, and I can't do that by just looking for praise. I am who I am, and I don't want to be anyone else. I do want to understand how other people interpret me, so I can help the world see my true intentions and the real me. I hope you'll help.
One of my favorite authors is Daniel Pink, and his new book Drive has spawned a project for him -- and now one for me. This will be another trip of self discovery for me. This video explains the exercise from Daniel Pink's book.
Two questions that can change your life from Daniel Pink on Vimeo.
I can imagine with my talent for verbosity I am in danger of becoming a rambling paragraph with no purpose, and I need to focus and find my sentence. Something else has come onto my radar in recent weeks that has my mind twisted in trying to understand intentions and perceptions. I'm hoping that my project will help me reconcile the two and find my sentence in the process.
So I ask you what sentence would you write about me? It doesn't have to be long or all encompassing. It doesn't have to be positive. I want to learn from this project, and I can't do that by just looking for praise. I am who I am, and I don't want to be anyone else. I do want to understand how other people interpret me, so I can help the world see my true intentions and the real me. I hope you'll help.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Who do you think you are?
Hubby and I were on our way home after running an errand this afternoon, and we came across a display that has my blood boiling.
I have never been big on religion. I understand that a lot of people find peace and strength in their religion and their churches, but I have never been one of them. I do however have a strong belief system and faith that I'd put up against anyone's. Both have come from a long and careful study of religions ranging from Catholicism and Protestantism to Islam and Eastern philosophies. I tell you this because I do not want anyone having the idea that I am some heathen that believes anything goes or that I harbor some evil in my soul.
I am not Christian, but I've read the Bible twice, as well as the Catholic canon. There are many teachings of Jesus that have value, as do other stories from the Bible. I also think one of the most thought-provoking (and correct) statements ever made by a "Holy" person was said by Mohandas Gandhi: "I like your Christ, I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ." This public display I witnessed could prove nothing more true.
Outside a church on Broad Street in Falls Church, along both sides of this main drag, a hundred people stood with signs decrying and damning abortion and those who perform or receive one. Really, folks? You got up this morning and went to church to listen to the teachings of Christ and, afterward, felt so self-righteous and superior as to display to the public your judgment on people and situations you know nothing of? Did God come down and empower you to judge others? Did you wake up this morning with some omniscience that makes you able to make broad, unqualified judgments? Are you so perfect that you can stand publicly and cast stones at others? Is your world so black and white as to leave no room for extenuating circumstances? Here's my real question: Who the fuck do you think you are?
Putting aside my own views on whether or when abortion may be right or wrong, I would never presume to stand in judgment of others when I don't know anything about them as a person or their situation. I would never presume to see the world in such stark contrast as to remove the gray areas, situations that warrant an exception.
I know there are people who want nothing more than to have children. I know people who want nothing less. I am one of them, and if I could trade places with them, I would without hesitation. It's like everything else in life; it's not fair, and I take my stand as pro-choice without intent to harm those people, those who have benefited from adoption or realized that an unintentional pregnancy is their biggest blessing. I simply say that no one has the right to judge me, no one has the right to decide for me what I can or cannot do with my body. It's no one else's fucking business.
So to those protesters who were not seeking to affect law (you know the one that's been in place since 1973), but instead to cast judgments and shame on others, I ask you to think the next time you preach or quote your Bible, what actions will you have to defend when you are held accountable, what have you done to create harmony in the universe, is there compassion in your heart, words and deeds? ... What would Jesus do?
I have never been big on religion. I understand that a lot of people find peace and strength in their religion and their churches, but I have never been one of them. I do however have a strong belief system and faith that I'd put up against anyone's. Both have come from a long and careful study of religions ranging from Catholicism and Protestantism to Islam and Eastern philosophies. I tell you this because I do not want anyone having the idea that I am some heathen that believes anything goes or that I harbor some evil in my soul.
I am not Christian, but I've read the Bible twice, as well as the Catholic canon. There are many teachings of Jesus that have value, as do other stories from the Bible. I also think one of the most thought-provoking (and correct) statements ever made by a "Holy" person was said by Mohandas Gandhi: "I like your Christ, I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ." This public display I witnessed could prove nothing more true.
Outside a church on Broad Street in Falls Church, along both sides of this main drag, a hundred people stood with signs decrying and damning abortion and those who perform or receive one. Really, folks? You got up this morning and went to church to listen to the teachings of Christ and, afterward, felt so self-righteous and superior as to display to the public your judgment on people and situations you know nothing of? Did God come down and empower you to judge others? Did you wake up this morning with some omniscience that makes you able to make broad, unqualified judgments? Are you so perfect that you can stand publicly and cast stones at others? Is your world so black and white as to leave no room for extenuating circumstances? Here's my real question: Who the fuck do you think you are?
Putting aside my own views on whether or when abortion may be right or wrong, I would never presume to stand in judgment of others when I don't know anything about them as a person or their situation. I would never presume to see the world in such stark contrast as to remove the gray areas, situations that warrant an exception.
I know there are people who want nothing more than to have children. I know people who want nothing less. I am one of them, and if I could trade places with them, I would without hesitation. It's like everything else in life; it's not fair, and I take my stand as pro-choice without intent to harm those people, those who have benefited from adoption or realized that an unintentional pregnancy is their biggest blessing. I simply say that no one has the right to judge me, no one has the right to decide for me what I can or cannot do with my body. It's no one else's fucking business.
So to those protesters who were not seeking to affect law (you know the one that's been in place since 1973), but instead to cast judgments and shame on others, I ask you to think the next time you preach or quote your Bible, what actions will you have to defend when you are held accountable, what have you done to create harmony in the universe, is there compassion in your heart, words and deeds? ... What would Jesus do?
Monday, August 30, 2010
Don't get the wrong idea about me
As far as I'm concerned, I'm a goofball. I can trip over my own feet and stutter all over anything and generally make a mess. I get a lot of things right, too, but sometimes, it becomes clear that some people have the wrong idea about me.
It's taken me a long time to reach this plateau in my life. I'll climb higher and do more, but for now, things have leveled out for me. I know a lot of things, and I get a lot of things right. I'm not perfect, and a great deal of the time, I do not have the answers. I am afraid of things. I've made more mistakes than I could ever count. I'll make a lot more.
I've been on antidepressants most of my adult life. (Notice I didn't say "all" of it.) I have a chemical imbalance in my brain that interferes with how my body processes serotonin. As a result, I've fought bouts of severe depression. During some of them, I have not wanted to, nor have I, taken my medicine as I should. Talk about a situation ripe for fucking up royally.
More than one semester in college, I had to get medical withdrawals from classes to keep from failing. I've been tested, and technically, I'm a genius, but I was literally failing. I spent more than one day at a time in bed sleeping my life away. I stayed awake for days at a time trying to catch up on school or out partying. I drank, smoked pot and hung out with some unsavory characters. (I'm being polite with my description.) I lied about where I was, what I was doing and who I was with on a regular basis. I had no rules and my moral compass was so distorted I didn't know what I was doing.
At the time, I thought I had things under control. I didn't want to take medicine, and I was determined to find a way to live without it. I didn't want to admit I was hurting myself and if I didn't get my shit straight, I was going to do permanent damage. I was lucky in that I had some friends who looked out for me, made sure no one slipped me anything and I didn't walk off with the wrong person. Not all of my friends were so good, and I wasn't always so lucky.
More than once I drank until I blacked out. I smoked two packs of Camels without filters a day. I lived on caffeine and pretzels. And those were some of my better decisions. I did get drugged, oddly enough by someone I was dating. I don't remember much. I wanted to move and couldn't. I wanted to speak and couldn't. Hell, it took years for me to even realize what had happened, and strangely enough someone joking around, tickling me triggered the memory. Something about the loss of control, not being able to make them stop.
My point is I didn't get to where I am and who I am today without traveling a rough road. I finally started listening to my therapist and taking my medicine. I didn't have the money for the therapy or the pills, but Dr. Clark let me pay what I could, when I could and gave me every sample of prozac he had just to keep me on it. I met new friends that helped me. I had fun without being so reckless. I wrapped my head around school and started thinking of a life after it.
The trip back was slow. I stayed in therapy until I learned everything I could about clinical depression. I found the reasons I react the way I do. A few years of cognitive therapy, and I can now tell when I'm starting to slide and either keep it from happening or pull myself out when it does.
I worked my ass off to get where I am and be the person I am. To have the life I live. I learned from my mistakes, collected my experiences. I earned this life. I know what happiness is. I know I am happy because I have seen misery. I have lived in the dark places of the corners of my mind. I have been weak and stupid and crumbled under pressure. Now, I am strong and smart and I can do hard things. But don't get the wrong idea about me. I'm not done yet. I've got a lot left to learn and greater heights to reach.
It's taken me a long time to reach this plateau in my life. I'll climb higher and do more, but for now, things have leveled out for me. I know a lot of things, and I get a lot of things right. I'm not perfect, and a great deal of the time, I do not have the answers. I am afraid of things. I've made more mistakes than I could ever count. I'll make a lot more.
I've been on antidepressants most of my adult life. (Notice I didn't say "all" of it.) I have a chemical imbalance in my brain that interferes with how my body processes serotonin. As a result, I've fought bouts of severe depression. During some of them, I have not wanted to, nor have I, taken my medicine as I should. Talk about a situation ripe for fucking up royally.
More than one semester in college, I had to get medical withdrawals from classes to keep from failing. I've been tested, and technically, I'm a genius, but I was literally failing. I spent more than one day at a time in bed sleeping my life away. I stayed awake for days at a time trying to catch up on school or out partying. I drank, smoked pot and hung out with some unsavory characters. (I'm being polite with my description.) I lied about where I was, what I was doing and who I was with on a regular basis. I had no rules and my moral compass was so distorted I didn't know what I was doing.
At the time, I thought I had things under control. I didn't want to take medicine, and I was determined to find a way to live without it. I didn't want to admit I was hurting myself and if I didn't get my shit straight, I was going to do permanent damage. I was lucky in that I had some friends who looked out for me, made sure no one slipped me anything and I didn't walk off with the wrong person. Not all of my friends were so good, and I wasn't always so lucky.
More than once I drank until I blacked out. I smoked two packs of Camels without filters a day. I lived on caffeine and pretzels. And those were some of my better decisions. I did get drugged, oddly enough by someone I was dating. I don't remember much. I wanted to move and couldn't. I wanted to speak and couldn't. Hell, it took years for me to even realize what had happened, and strangely enough someone joking around, tickling me triggered the memory. Something about the loss of control, not being able to make them stop.
My point is I didn't get to where I am and who I am today without traveling a rough road. I finally started listening to my therapist and taking my medicine. I didn't have the money for the therapy or the pills, but Dr. Clark let me pay what I could, when I could and gave me every sample of prozac he had just to keep me on it. I met new friends that helped me. I had fun without being so reckless. I wrapped my head around school and started thinking of a life after it.
The trip back was slow. I stayed in therapy until I learned everything I could about clinical depression. I found the reasons I react the way I do. A few years of cognitive therapy, and I can now tell when I'm starting to slide and either keep it from happening or pull myself out when it does.
I worked my ass off to get where I am and be the person I am. To have the life I live. I learned from my mistakes, collected my experiences. I earned this life. I know what happiness is. I know I am happy because I have seen misery. I have lived in the dark places of the corners of my mind. I have been weak and stupid and crumbled under pressure. Now, I am strong and smart and I can do hard things. But don't get the wrong idea about me. I'm not done yet. I've got a lot left to learn and greater heights to reach.
It's been a while
I haven't written anything in a while. Not so much because I don't have anything to say, but more because I have so many things on my mind, I can't keep them all straight. I feel like I'm brain has been put in a blender and then gotten stuck on fast forward. Usually, one part of my life goes berserk at a time, but lately, there is no respite from the chaos.
Last week, I was so flustered that I canceled my shrink appointment because I was so busy that just going to one more appointment, even one that's supposed to help, was stressing me out. Luckily, my shrink is understanding.
This weekend is a holiday weekend, and I'm hoping it will be one of rest and regeneration. If it's not, I'll have to check into my padded suite at Sunny View Asylum or call in unconscious to work for a week.
Last week, I was so flustered that I canceled my shrink appointment because I was so busy that just going to one more appointment, even one that's supposed to help, was stressing me out. Luckily, my shrink is understanding.
This weekend is a holiday weekend, and I'm hoping it will be one of rest and regeneration. If it's not, I'll have to check into my padded suite at Sunny View Asylum or call in unconscious to work for a week.
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