03-10-2013 Reflections

While perusing my journals I found some interesting entries, so I thought I'd share an excerpt from Sunday, March 10, 2013:

Dear Diary? Dear Journal?  Dear Self? Dear God, it’s me…? what if my words aren’t going to be endearing? “Fuck you, daytime!” may be more appropriate on some “special” occasions! Especially on those occasions in which I would like to say “fuck my life!” What does that say about my Christianity, then? Not a damn thing! It only says that I’m a human being.

I’m still hurting from my emotional breakdown the other morning. Trying to smooth salve on the heart & soul is like trying to catch a greased pig; you’ll try & try til you’re outta breath & sweating only to see that you could have stood still w/a bucket of buttermilk. It’s better to lay in wait and have patience while it comes to you.

Who am I to think anyone will appreciate my words? I’m me. Same as you. That makes us immortally awesome!

Rather than expressing my religious beliefs repetitively, I’ll make it known from the “get-go.” Jesus Christ is my lord, savior, shepherd, example, lover, & friend. I try to live my life according to his example, & I’m far from good at it. My heart is compassionate for my fellow humans, but I can’t stand people. That’s not a full truth, though. It depends on the emotional state I’m in, but mostly I love people as individuals & have a strong distaste for the stupidity in group-thinking:  traffic, churches, mobs, terrorists, people standing in line at the store, post office, or whatever.

As I sit here, listening to Billy Joel, I’m remembering my favorite class at Lower Columbia College. It was a Capstone course (if you don’t know what that means, I’m assuming you know how to use the www.Google.com machine to look things up for yourself— you found my blog, afterall). I was a victim to the group-think mentality, & I felt like shit. I felt “justified” when I realized it & could point it out to my group. Then I got angry at the rest of my group for not SEEING IT! Wow! Revelation!!!!! Just like in my freaking life!

BTW, if I want comments from the spelling & grammar police (believe me!) I’ll ask! FYI--for the record, I am using voice recognition software and sometimes I am not so diligent with editing.

My third grade teacher was such an inspiration to me. She recognized when I was sad and hurting, and asked me a lot of questions. She showed concern, so I felt comfortable talking with her. My fondest memory of Mrs. B was when she told me that she wished she could help me. You see in the 1970s, there were no real Child Protection agencies. Girls weren’t diagnosed with ADD or ADHD as it was a boys’ disorder, and the way to treat it was to spank (beat) the child. Too, churches felt the need to exercise the demons from these children through exorcism and ritualistic abuse. Added to my ADHD, was the death of my mother. How much more can an eight year old child handle?  Mrs. B was very kind, and she made me feel special.

I wanted to be an actress with all of my heart & soul as a kid cuz I desired, thrived on, needed, yearned for, & coveted attention (it’s like “mad libs” for psychotherapy). It doesn’t matter the label, it was attention I was after. It was like I was starving for it. That’s how the memory of the feeling felt, anyhow. Today, I’d rather be a standup comedian or a chat show host, so the desire for attention is still there.

I remember living in different homes and going to visit different people, as a child, and wondering why they would collect such strange things. One of my stepparents collected silver spoons from different states in the U.S. One family collected crucifixes. I had peers that collected stuffed animals, ceramic clown faces (masks) &/or dolls. I never had the privilege or the pleasure of collecting.  I moved around so much that I couldn’t attach to people or objects. To this day, I personally think that “people are entitled to their hobbies, & I’m entitled to think those people are creepy” (Raylan Givens, “Justified,” S01EP06). I believe that’s why it’s hard for me to maintain friendships.

There was a summer fling fella (SFF) I was involved with last year, & I’d like to remember only the positive. To do that would go against my authentic sense of self. On the surface, this man was an angel sent by God, but when noone was around he would be an ass. He told me often what a wonderful, beautiful, & smart woman I am until I disagreed with him on ANY subject. Two weeks into our friendship, I mentioned an associate of mine that is a former Cowlitz County Commissioner. This sent him into an uproar. He kept telling (he was actually bellowing) me that I was stupid to have her for a friend because of something that happened concerning him years ago. I told him that I wasn’t going to change my stance on this just because he didn’t like the woman. I should have left SFF then as that was a clear warning sign of future abuse.

Peace, Love, & Happiness!

Being Human? Grrr!

Man, I really have to work on my people skills! GARG! Sometimes I feel so inadequate.

It’s difficult for me to obtain gainful employment, & once I finally get a job I find it difficult to deal with my fellow employees. Also, I’ve been denied Social Security (SS) benefits whenever finances force me to seek employment. They don’t take into account that I’ve been desperate not to move my family to the streets or a shelter. They also don’t consider that I can only seem to keep a job for 3-6 months due to my physical limitations (or my lack of kiss ass).

I want to be happy today, but I lack the drive.

Being poor is such a drag. Not finishing college was a mistake. If I ever have the opportunity Ima go back to school & get my psychology degree.

Dropping out of high school (HS) was good for my mental health. I probably would have killed my classmates or myself if I’d have stayed in HS. In essence, my dropping out saved many lives.