Day 13 - "pick a blog idea from my notes and run with it" challenge

Day 13 - Religion

Ouch.

Probably not the best topic to be discussing at the moment. Or maybe it is THE topic to be discussing. I am not sure.

All I know is that it's a little too sensitive right now for me to start spouting my opinions on religion. So I will only share what else I jotted down on the subject the day I put this in my notes:

"Religion. Spirituality. Believe in myself. Be good. Get good. Not organized."

That says all I need to and want to on the topic today.

Day 12 - "pick a blog idea from my notes and run with it" challenge

Day 12 - Dreams.

Ah dreams.

I am a big dreamer. Not in the sense of wishes, goals and desires, but honest to goodness sleepy time dreams.

I am a very vivid dreamer.  My dreams can usually be tied to something, and even though they seem odd, I can make sense of them for the most part, or at least explain them away.

Occasionally I will have a super weird dream. One that makes no sense. One that I can not place the people, situations or feelings. I love these dreams because they make me question myself.  I am always present in my dreams. They seem to happen in real time except for the occasional dream within a dream, where I wake up from my dream but in reality I am still in it.

Dreams are so strange. You can wake up from one with a plethora of emotions swirling in your head.

I have woken up with tears streaming down my cheeks, pissed off at my partner or highly aroused.  It is amazing how your body reacts to your emotions even when you aren't consciously experiencing them.

I love dreaming.  Even when they evoke sadness or fright.  I love it because I own it. I own it completely. Even though I am sharing the moment in my mind with people, I really do not have to share it with anyone.  Once I wake up, I can decide whether or not to allow someone into that moment.

Sometimes your dreams can defy your ethics and morals. Other times it allows you to be more vulnerable than you are. And choosing to keep those feelings or share them is completely up to the dreamer.

I often blame my self conscious for my dreams.  I worry I must be harboring some ill intentions or desires to make situations come out in my head that otherwise I never would consider.

Have you ever dreamt you had an intimate moment with a co-worker?  Eeeeek?  What is THAT?

Or you wake up so scared from your near death experience and climb all over your partner, never getting close enough, all the while making sure you accidentally wake them up to save you?

And the famous infidelity dreams, Not yours, theirs.  Waking up so angry you can't even speak, much less look, at your cheating spouse?

I love dreaming.  Even when I hate it.

Day 11 - "pick a blog idea from my notes and run with it" challenge

Day 11 - Librarian. How people can change our lives.

There was a story in Reader's Digest. It was about a young girl who, upon the recommendation of a librarian, took out a book that ultimately clanged her world.

Later in the story the girl, now a woman, sees the librarian when she returns to town to visit. Excitedly she confronts the librarian to thank her for suggesting the book that encouraged her to be the writer she had become.

Unfortunately the librarian had been stricken with a form of dementia and could not share in the woman's memory or understand her enthusiasm.

Sadly the woman never got to tell the librarian just how much her simple gesture shaped who she now was.

The story is a sad tale, but one that happens every single day.

We live in such a busy, self absorbed world. We take so much for granted and give thanks way less than we should.  Every day we are touched by people, and most times that goes unnoticed. Simple things like someone suggesting a book, or giving directions, or assisting in choosing an outfit all can change the outcome of a day, or more.

After I read that story, I started running things and people though my head.  I could come up with several "librarians", for a variety of reasons, that have no idea they have made an impact on my life. And they don't know because what they had to offer was just them being themselves. Offering experiences or words of wisdom that were just part of who they were.  Yet those interactions have resonated with me to the point that I revisit some of the memories still.

My favorite example was a simple phrase "Be good to yourself" that was uttered to me during a very difficult time.  Four words, said out of kindness, have been carried with me for over a decade. Because of that phrase I now stop and think about how situations are going to affect me. I make choices with those words floating in the back of my mind.  I have done things completely differently than I might have had I not uttered those words to myself.

Today, those words are ingrained in me and who I am. I do not need to constantly remind myself of them.  So today I share those same words with others that I know need to hear them as much as I did then.  Today I hope those words resonate with someone else and help them be confident in self love and care.

I never did tell that person how much those words helped me.  I think it's time for a phone call.

Day 10 - "pick a blog idea from my notes and run with it" challenge

Day 10 - Resolutions

I am sure when I wrote the idea to blog about resolutions, it was January ish. And since the new year is right around the corner, I suppose this one might have some merit.

I hate resolutions. Not because I do not think I will keep my new year promise, but because it seems backwards to me.

Every year we tell ourselves we are going to quit something or do something better.  Basically we are saying that what we do is bad and wrong and we need to change. That is a lot of focus on the negative aspects of ones life.

I think resolutions shouldn't be made to "fix" a person, they should be made to do more of what already works.  I believe if we build on the positive things we have to offer ourselves and others, we will create less and less space for the negative stuff that doesn't work so well.

Instead of saying, "I am going to lose weight", say "I am going to eat more vegetables". The better you eat, the more weight you will lose.  Your goal is the same but the negativity is taken out of it. It is so much kinder to reward yourself with a pat of the back for eating healthier than it is to tell yourself every day that you dislike something about who you are.

There is a reason New Year's resolutions are given up on so quickly.  It does not feel good to fail at something that didn't feel good to begin with.

Positive affirmations work.  Resolutions do not.

Day 9 - "pick a blog idea from my notes and run with it" challenge

Day 9 - Obsession and Chanel No5

Ahhhhh smell.

Smell is probably the single most sense that can take me a million places.

When I was a teenager I worked for a woman that wore a combination of Obsession and Chanel No5. It is a smell I not only recognize, but I wear to this day.

I had a bit of a problem with obsessiveness when I was young.  If I was intrigued I put my all into it. It started when I was just a small girl, probably 6 at the most.

A woman moved in down the street. Her and her husband were probably in their early 20s, however to me they were light years away.

Somehow I ended up convincing this woman that my presence was wanted or at least tolerated. She would allow me to come to her house and watch her cook.  I found myself mesmerized by her beauty and her soft spoken words.  I sat there day after day watching and listening and obsessing.  I couldn't get enough of her.  This behavior carried on through my entire young life.

When I landed the babysitting job at the Obsession/Chanel house, I couldn't think of anything else but my employer. She was 35, had classic 80s frosted hair, drove a luxury car and had no man. I was sure at 16 I could win her over. I was convinced I was the one that would show her what love really was. I confused obsession with passion. I would do this many more times before I realized that wanting to make someone feel good wasn't a conquest. That feeling like you would give up your entire being for a relationship you have created only in your mind was not healthy.

I suppose my shrine of plastic cups and cigarette butts that touched her mouth, stolen shirts and photos should have been an indication that my obsession was probably not good for me.

I loved the chase. Not just with her, but with all the women. I loved that I usually caught them in some way or another.  And then I loved that I could move on.

I no longer allow myself to obsess.  However I do still love to woo.

That being said. my Obsession and Chanel No5 bottles sit on my dresser and get worn together frequently.

My wife likes it. It was what I was wearing when we met.

That smell will forever be a part of me. It reminds me of a very confusing time, a new relationship and a current forever.

Day 8 - "pick a blog idea from my notes and run with it" challenge

Day 8 - Eye contact - where my demons hide

While I do not really know what I was specifically thinking when I wrote that down to "get back to later", I do actually remember doing it. I was in my car on the way to work. I heard the song Demons by Imagine Dragons on the radio.

When you feel my heat
Look into my eyes
It’s where my demons hide
It’s where my demons hide
Don’t get too close
It’s dark inside
It’s where my demons hide
It’s where my demons hide

Every time I hear that part of the song it speaks of how bad I want to let people in. But it is a sad reminder of how I keep most of them at arms length. Being told I was no good, I was ugly, I was imperfect. I was in the way, I was not what people wanted me to be as a child has taken me a life time to stop believing.

My demons used to cause a lot of sadness and guilt. My demons have ruined relationships. I learned very early that if I let people get close, I will hurt them. That if they looked into my eyes, even if I wanted them there, they would somehow be subject to pain and misery. And if they were big enough to challenge me, and care enough to find their way in, I still could/would not allow that eye contact, because if they got to that point it meant I was then vulnerable.

I have a very hard time letting people know I feel vulnerable, when in reality it is in those moments I want someone the most.

It's funny how we carry certain things with us forever, even when they make no sense any more. I know I am not the person I used to be. I am not plagued by those demons to the point where they affect my relationships. Yet my rational mind cant seem to get the memo to my heart.

Day 7 - "pick a blog idea from my notes and run with it" challenge

Day 7 - Can Can

I grew up in a couple of very weird towns. Between the ages of eight and twelve I lived in a town that was literally a hill and not much else. If it was a mile walk to the other side it was a lot. This meant that everyone knew everyone's business. It was hard not to when the houses were so close you could seriously reach into the neighbors kitchen window and pour yourself a cup of coffee from your own kitchen.

This made for a lot of annoyances for the adults but it was great for us kids.

There was never a minute that you were friendless.  If you walked out of your front door you were guaranteed to see someone else walking out theirs.  We all hung out at three or four places in town, depending on age, and there was always at least 10-20 kids in each spot.It was a kid's paradise.  The parents had no clue where we were, but no one worried. They knew you were with friends and you could only be up to a mile away.

Because it was a very eclectic town, there were a lot of events that took place. And while they were mostly geared toward children, I am positive they came about because of the adults attempting to one up each other. Although it was a very middle class town, "keeping up with the Joneses'" ran rampant.

Each summer we had Children's Day. In reality it was a weekend event full of contests, performances, parades and midways.  Every year parents would volunteer to help the kids put on a production at the tabernacle in town. It was a wonderful building with tons of windows and an old stage. If you wanted to be in the production you tried out.  You made it or you didn't.  I can distinctly recall being a card in Alice in Wonderland and a can can girl in something.

I was taught the can can routine by a neighbor who ultimately ended up my dad's girlfriend years later. At the time, however, my mom was put on the mission to adorn me in the half size coke cans that came out in the 70s. My siblings and I were happy to oblige by drinking enough for all the girls to have a dozen hanging off their tush under their skirt.

During the weekend a king and queen were also crowned.  It was an obvious popularity contest and typically if your parents were someone you had a fighting chance.  It was during that competition, the can can year, that I realized I liked girls. Gerry W won that year.  She was about 17. I was 8. I can remember quite vividly the dress she wore, her feathered hair and the fact that she kissed me on the cheek for telling her she looked beautiful. And even though I had been infatuated with many older women in the previous years, this was the moment I knew what it meant. This was the moment I knew what those feelings were.

I still have a picture of Gerry that night.  And although it has been forty years since that can can performance and that kiss on the cheek, I can recall it like it was yesterday.

Just don't ask me to do the dance.

Day 6 - "pick a blog idea from my notes and run with it" challenge

Day 6 - Whatcha' fuck up this time

Ahhh my mother.

Almost every negative memory can somehow be traced back to her. Like a lot of kids, my mother was not Donna Reed, although her trying is the cause of a lot of our issues. She was not nice, not nurturing, not present and not good for me.  For many, my stories involving my mother seem unfathomable.  But she, and her antics were very real. It wasn't until she said the phrase "whatcha fuck up this time" that I finally had enough. Enough of her, of justifying her behavior towards me, and allowing her to hurt me.

I checked myself into a mental health facility back in 2001.  I had had a doctor that apparently thought it was a good idea to combine medications that should never have been taken together. The side effects were not only unsafe, but down right scary. I was hallucinating, homicidal and manic.  I was also a mom with kids to care for.  I tried to shut it up, off, whatever. I drank to calm myself down. I made poor choices most definitely.

Eventually I checked myself in voluntarily for three days to safely get off the drugs, or at least figure out what was going on.

On my first day with the doctor he asked if I wanted to call anyone. I said I would like to call my mother to make sure she was aware of what was happening and to make sure she was making herself available if need be for the kids.  The doctor called her number and introduced himself.  He said "your daughter is inpatient at blah blah blah hospital currently receiving mental health treatment and would like to speak to you".

He handed me the phone.

I said "Hey".  She said "Whatcha fuck up this time?"

I hung up.

That was a very liberating day for me. I learned I was not at fault for some of  my recent behavior.  I learned I was stronger than I thought I was and I learned  that my mother was unhealthy for me.

I took advantage of those three days of intense therapy to ultimately walk out of there free of her.

Day 5 - "pick a blog idea from my notes and run with it" challenge

Day 5 - Posting endearments

I know this is a day late. I will post two today. Maybe that means I lost the "challenge". But who the heck is keeping score anyway.

Posting endearments. There was more to that sentence that I had jotted down but that is the gist.  

Posting your love, thanks yous, cryptic swooning.  We all see it, we all do it, but why?

On one hand I think it's great. People feel safer and less vulnerable expressing themselves on a screen, out of sight. They might say more than they would or could directly. And if what they say is not well received, they can always shut their screen off. There is no way to escape that situation face to face.  On the other hand though, I think the person is shortchanging themselves and the recipient and being almost cowardly. 

Taking the safe route feels, well, safer. But where is the connection? The real human connection.  And when our endearing, heartfelt posts get a ton of "likes", doesn't the validation that the poster is endearing and heartfelt somehow supersede the purpose of the post?  Is the pat on the back more gratifying than saying I love you to begin with?  I think for a lot of people it is.  

Self gratification seems to be all the rage.  Saying I love you publicly seems to be as much about the person saying it as it is for the person receiving it. I think for many sharing that love via social media comes with the expectation that THEY will get something out of it. That people will think THEY are sweet, and kind and all things yummy and good because THEY were "willing to put yourself out there for all to see".  Somehow the meaning becomes lost and the recipient takes a back seat. 

If that same "I love you" was said to the person directly, there is a moment being shared with whom it should be shared. And it becomes about THEM, as it was intended, or should have been anyway.  

I like people to know my heart is happy and full. But I honestly don't need anyone's validation that it makes me a good person to love my wife. When I buy her a gift it is because I love her, not because I want people to think I am awesome for swooning over the person I care about. And when I do something for her, I don't wait for her to post it on Facebook so people can tell her how lucky she is.  I appreciate when she acknowledges my endearments, and is proud of our relationship, but I do not need others approval to feel better about how I conduct myself.

I worry that the meaning behind the love and wooing, and the pulse racing possibility or acceptance or rejection, is getting lost. And I worry that in our quest for validation we are misguiding our feelings of love and ultimately using them to feed our own egos.

Day 4 - "pick a blog idea from my notes and run with it" challenge

Day 4 - "Getting old was someone else's unattainable dream".

Wow. I remember this sentence well.  It wasn't mine. It was actually lifted from a friend's post. I cannot begin to pretend that I know how she felt when she said it. I do not walk in her shoes and have not had the horror of experiencing losing two partners to cancer.  But what I do know is that I found that statement quite profound. And once again, reading someone else's words has made me think and possibly rethink how I feel about something.

Getting old.

I have always wanted to get older. When I was a child I could not wait to be an adolescent. When I was an adolescent I couldn't wait to be an adult. Even as an adult it seemed that an older version of adult was more desirable.  Even at pushing 50, I still sometimes wish I was just a little bit older, That somehow more sophistication and class come with age. That if I just get a little older I will get regal looking with my gray hair, and that I will carry myself with an aura that attracts people and makes them want to sit and listen to my wise words of wisdom.  I know it's not true but I find age to be a positive, not a negative.

So much of the media, and what is put in front of us, tells us that getting old is bad. It repeats, over and over, that wrinkles are ugly, your slower metabolism will make you fat and unattractive, and that you are destined to be lonely putting milk in the cabinet instead of the fridge. Our world is full of ways to prevent these terrible things from happening. The market on "how not to get old" (and essentially undesirable) is huge.

But when you put getting old into perspective, such as realizing how many people will never even have the opportunity to experience getting old, phrases like "getting old was someone else's unattainable dream" should really make you rethink your take on aging.

I can guarantee you, those that never had the opportunity to experience "old" would not be complaining about their wrinkles, fat or memory loss if they were just given the chance to live to see it.

Day 3 - "pick a blog idea from my notes and run with it" challenge

Day 3 - Facebook has made me less judgmental

I am unsure why I thought this particular realization was blog worthy, but since it is next on my list of blogs ideas in my notes, I will write about it.

Facebook has been called a lot of things by a lot of people, good and bad.  I am sure we have all witnessed posts that validate just about every opinion of the social media giant.  I know I have.

As much as I want to hate Facebook, and social media as a whole, for taking us away from real life, for breaking up relationships, for grooming narcissistic adolescents etc,  I cannot deny it's power to do good.

This past year has been really difficult for my family.  We have had job losses, incarcerations and brushes with suicide. I am pretty sure on paper that makes us seem dysfunctional by every account of the word. The truth is, we are not,  My family is real. Full of real people with real problems. We are also a family full great things; legal same sex marriage this year, a new grand baby on the way and children that have conquered things against all odds.

I took quite a hiatus from Facebook and my writing to focus on my family and myself. But truth be told, when I needed support, both emotionally and financially, it was social media that was there with no questions asked. 

My family is in a much better place heading into the new year.  I have found some time to breathe and realized in those breaths I have really missed being here.  While I have silently stalked you all, I did not engage. I quietly watched your lives and loves unfold. I read posts and comments. 

When I wrote "Facebook has made me less judgmental" I am positive it was because I was finding that being able to read others comments to things always made me think before I made an opinion. And many times, by the time I was done with the comments, what I assumed I thought about the person, situation, whatever, changed.  I was listening (reading), and thinking. I have taken this skill into my everyday life.  I now stop myself when I pass judgement, and think. I look at all of the angles.  I consider all of the people or parts.  And many times my initial knee jerk reaction and opinion ends up wrong. 

Facebook has certainly made me less judgmental of others.  However this past year I have realized that Facebook has also made me less judgement of Facebook.  

I appreciate it's positive power 

Day 2 - "pick a blog idea from my notes and run with it" challenge

Day 2 - Why don't you smile

I can only assume I jotted this down because I hear that about 100 times a day.

"Smile".

I suppose I am graced with the highly overused phrase - resting bitch face. But honestly, I don't think that is the reason for my puss. I am in thought. Deep thought. Almost all of the time.  My head runs like it's on jet fuel all day long.  My brain is spending way too much time analyzing the ridiculousness of my consuming thoughts to find much time to remember to smile.

I dislike that people find me a human version of grumpy cat. I am not typically grumpy in the situations where "smile" comes at me.

What I find interesting is that even with my seemingly unapproachable and unwelcoming face, people cannot help by seek me out. While one is telling me to smile, another is telling me their life story.  I am a magnet for conversations with people that I truly did not elicit. As a matter of fact, I am pretty sure I keep eye contact at the bare minimum hoping to avoid the interaction. Still, they find me.

I know my blog was supposed to be about why I don't smile.  But I find it much more fascinating that my uninviting lack of a smile seems to be the same thing as holding a neon welcome sign over my head.  It makes me wonder if the smile is really what people even find comforting.

Smiling is a universal sign. It says "I am happy" or "you make me feel good" or "that was funny".  I experience all of those things and I smile when I do. I know this to be true because I have seen picture evidence.

But is smiling what says "I am approachable"?  Or are there other ways for people to recognize empaths and people willing to listen and care?  And when someone tells you to smile are they saying it really because they are superficial, seeing only the obvious and not capable of connecting on a different level?

Day 1 of my "pick a blog idea from my notes and run with it" challenge - What would you say in couples therapy.

Day 1 of my "pick a blog idea from my notes and run with it" challenge

- What would you say in couples therapy.

Most of my reading is done either in the bathroom or while procrastinating.  Typically ideas for my writing come from the conversations I have within my own head triggered by things I have just read. And since a good portion of my "free time" to read is while I am in the bathroom, suffice to say that this blog idea came from something I read in Reader's Digest or some home magazine with Martha Stewart on the cover.

I do wish I knew what I was thinking when I jotted that sentence down.  I would love to know what I was saying to the therapist and/or to my partner.  Clearly the scenario was playing out in my head. Unfortunately I have no idea. 

There hasn't been a time in many years that I thought counseling was needed or would be appreciated. So it's not like I had a laundry list of "well you........"s or "I need......."s to get out of my system.  My guess is that I was probably questioning the validity of counseling, or praising it's ability to get people to communicate when they otherwise can't or won't.

Therapy is supposed to be a safe place. and sometimes it actually feels that way. For me, therapy was about the only place I would allow myself to be honest and vulnerable.  And only ever with one therapist.  But when I think back to those days. I wish everyone was able to have that experience. I know most do not.

As I sit here right now, the sentence "what would you say in couples therapy" does not trigger any powerful response.  Since it's been over a year since I had the idea to write a blog about it, it's possible that whatever passion I had at that time has taken a back seat to something more prevalent.

That being said, if I was in couples therapy today, I would hope I would allow myself to be vulnerable and honest. I would hope I would feel OK to say I'm sorry, I'm scared, I'm hurt, I'm afraid etc.  All the things I do not know how to say on my own.

Scrolling down through my 'notes'.

I feel like I may not even have had a smart phone last time I posted a blog it's been so long.  Where have I been.

That isn't a real question. I know where I have been. I have been experiencing life in the busiest, sometimes scariest places possible.  I have been filled with things to do, things to think about and things to avoid. Life has consumed me, and I took sharing out of the equation, I just didn't seem to have time.

In my phone notes, I have a list, "Blogs".  Pretty simple.  I jot a sentence down certain it will trigger what I was thinking at the time and I would come back and write about it.  I was wrong in that thinking. The list is pretty lengthy.  It looks intriguing.  It sparks ideas and thoughts.  But honestly, I have no clue what the sentences really meant to me then.

I have not only stopped sharing with you, I stopped sharing with myself.  For that I am sad.

I saw a fellow friend and blogger take on a challenge about posting a blog a day or something. I honestly do not know what the challenge really is. But after seeing her post the past three days in a row, I feel jealous and hollow.  I feel like I have short changed myself.  I feel like screaming "hey!  I have things to say too!".

Since I do not know what the real "challenge" if, I have made up my own.

My list in notes contains 20 sentences that were supposed to trigger a blog.  Even though I have no idea what I was thinking at the time, I am am going to take each sentence and see where it takes me.

So tomorrow I will start with "what would you say in couples therapy".

Oh boy.

I hope you join me.