Pump up the jam...

No, don't fall over. Although sitting is probably not going to allow for that anyway! A post that isn't two weeks later than the last. Will miracles never cease?

I really don't have anything to say today except that I have gone so long without saying much of anything to anyone, and now I can't seem to keep my mouth shut. I talked on the phone Sunday evening with a friend for--hold on--not one but two HOURS. What?? My other half asked me afterwards if she said anything. Ha-ha. I sent extremely babbling convos to several Etsy artist-friends. Then last night, we watched crazy You-Tube videos from 7:00 until midnight, and it was so much fun to dance and laugh. I never look at You-Tube unless someone has something that they recommend. (Steff, I'll never be able to thank you enough for the "le singe..." video. I laugh so hard every single time I watch it. Just the ticket for a dull day.*) Anyway, hubby is a PE teacher and coach plus a major sports fanatic, so Sports Illustrated is his main page online. They have several "daily" videos, most of which I never am interested in. However, this one was of two guys who literally--truly--climbed buildings like Spiderman and jumped from one building roof to the next, running at high speed and never slowing down. It was a stomach clenching video to watch, like watching a roller coaster ride from the front seat. I don't know how we went from there, but we got into wedding reception videos with crazy dancing. We ended up at "The Evolution of Dance" videos and various take-offs of it. I started dancing at the tender age of one or two and have been at it ever since. It's such a creative expression and feels like flying or something. No, Mom wouldn't let me take dancing lessons because "they will never be useful." Like those seven years of piano lessons have done anything for me. Her reasoning came from a background of poverty and traditional beliefs about what women should/could do. She believed that dancing was frivolous and a waste of time. I don't think she and my dad ever even danced. Ah, what a loss. She also squashed my future as a potter the minute I brought my first astounding creation home. Lessons? Absolutely not. When did playing with mud serve any purpose? She never caught on to my artistic abilities, not even when I danced her wall-size mirror off the wall and broke it. Hhhmmm, that's how I probably brought on a lifetime of bad luck! I danced constantly around the house. I was always in motion. I think I am dancing in all of the home movies Dad took. I was a cheerleader throughout junior and senior high school, back in the olden days when it was more "dancey" than aerobatic. I can't sit still when I hear most music. I love so many different styles of music and dance, but give me a good beat and I'm there. I've lived long enough to have heard lots of music genres and have loved them all. Give me country, hip-hop or the Stones--I can dance to anything. I love the productions "Stomp" and "Riverdance" and any ballet. I love the opera "Madame Butterfly." Love to watch ballroom dancing or listen to jazz. I was a huge MTV fan when they just played videos. Bonus--music plus dancing! I don't even recognize MTV anymore. I think I might win the award for owning the most movie soundtracks. Yes, "Dirty Dancing" is a favorite along with any Fred Astaire movie. The Soggy Bottom Boys of "O Brother Where Art Thou," "Drumline," "Billy Elliott," "Fiddler on the Roof" or "The Sound of Music;" the Beatles, Lady Antebellum, Pat Benatar, Usher, ELO--I'm all over the board. I've recently been introduced to the music of Eluveitie (again, thanks to Steff), and they have become a big favorite. As for dance, I finally took some ballet lessons after I graduated from college, and planned to continue onto creative dancing (didn't), and the last ten or more years have been, sadly, dance-less for the most part. We did take shag lessons for one of hubby's PE classes. Uh, ya know, dancing to beach music, not the other thing. (Beach music is the one genre I do not care for at all. Must be bad memories of fraternities.) Hubby teaches a lot of line dancing, too. As for me, I danced when dancing wasn't exactly choreographed. It just flowed. Whatever felt like moving moved. Now, it has been so influenced by Michael Jackson and the hip-hop guys. Don't get me wrong, I can do most of the "Thriller" and "Beat It" moves in my sleep, and I've added the "Soulja Boy" routine to my repertoire even though I'm not a big fan of the song. I love the dance moves, though. Music and dancing--moving and grooving. After last night, I'm thinking I need to add it back as part of my daily exercise routine. And I guess I did have something to say after all.

Good thing we don't have any mirrors in the TV room. I just hope I don't step on any tails...

(Image is entitled "Dancing with Dogs" and can be found at the shop cathydarling on Etsy. I already know that Berra loves to dance with me. Maris stays away but watches. I don't know what Guidry will do, but I'm betting Jeeter won't hesitate to join in.)

*The video of Eddie Izzard "Learning French" can be found at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x1sQkEfAdfY
Sorry, I still haven't learned how to put up a "link." I'm not even sure if that is what to call that which I haven't learned.
Steff's awesome blog, kaKofonie Of si(gh)lens, can be found at:
http://musingsofbuffyleigh.blogspot.com/

Dog days of summer...

Okay, I'll admit, I'm getting really bad at keeping up this journal. I've always been really bad at keeping a journal, but I have done much better online. That's probably because it's actually easier to write a few sentences, look at a few blogs, write a few more sentences, shop for awhile on Etsy, go back to writing...Well, you get the picture. However, I also think that it reflects the changes in my health--physical, emotional, and mental. I have really come a long way, baby! At one time, I was linked to the outside world only by means of my computer. Well, not counting my other half. It was the only way I felt comfortable connecting with anyone, and I have made some awesome connections because of it. I really had to make myself work to start getting back out. When I first stuck my toes out the front door back a few months ago to go back to work, I didn't think I could do it for more than a week. But one week turned into two, then three, and I seemed to be doing alright. It's been almost three weeks since I've gone back to work due to a difficult day filled with the very things that made me leave in the first place. I am hoping that I can get that one last day over and done with soon. I actually had a busy week last week, full of planned events, and this week has been a little crazy because it's the last week of vacation for my hubby. He goes back to teaching next week, and we will finally be back on a schedule, which I desperately need!! We will start back on our daily walks with our dogs. He has been doing most of the dog-walking without me lately and has had two people stop him for his "business card." They think he is a dog-walker! I guess seeing someone walk four dogs isn't the usual!

Speaking of the dogs, Berra (the oldest) is showing some signs of slowing down during our walks. He has begun to leave some slack in the leash by the time we get back into our neighborhood. We've got him on a double-lead with Guidry, so he can't get too far behind. Jeeter and Maris have separate leashes. Jeeter has been with us now four or five months--is that possible? He was five-months-old when we got him, and he is looking to be mostly Golden Retriever. We think he may have some pit bull in him based not only on several physical factors but also because he isn't the typical Golden personality. That's not to say that he is bad, but he definitely is not the all-loving, want-to-lie-at-your-feet-and-stare-into-your-eyes kind of dog that the others are. He fits in well, and the other dogs get along with him and he does one funny thing after another. Mostly, he talks about everything! More to the point, he comments about everything. And his comments are in a high-pitched puppy-speak! He chases airplanes across the yard and bugs on the patio and is a connoisseur of pine cones. He is a hoot! I seriously think he is ADD. Nothing, not even eating, can keep his attention for longer than five seconds. He finishes eating about half of his food, then is off to find out what the others are doing. What they are doing is watching him eat because they gobbled their food down already and want a chance to eat his! Breakfast and dinner are not boring here! Once Jeeter gets distracted, there is no going back. We tried several tricks to make him eat more but figure when he is hungry, he won't walk away! Back to the thought that he might be part pit bull. That's kind of a shame because it may be the reason why he was dropped off at a kill-shelter. Someone may have been looking for less Golden and more Pit, and he looked just like a Golden puppy. It's terrible to think about the way those dogs in particular are used as fighting dogs. Anyway, Jeeter may look and act slightly less Golden, but he is 100% Golden at heart! We love him as much as the others and wouldn't trade him for anything.

Well, if I step on anymore prickly bits of pine cone that didn't get swept up, I might start thinking about it.

(Image is a print that can be purchased from gibspix at Etsy and is entitled "Golden Retriever." The dog looks just like Guidry instead of Jeeter, but I'd recognize that pine cone anywhere.)

Playing Solitaire...

After spending so much time at home and seeing pretty much no one to speak of, I seem to have become the proverbial social butterfly this week. Not that I am happy to claim the title. My preference would be to remain the anonymous soul I've been for the last eight months. However, as luck would have it, my social calendar runneth over. Last night we went to dinner with a group of neighbors, then back to one of their homes for a round of Trivial Pursuit. We made up our own rules and played men against women. Need anyone ask who won?? We all moved into this newly developed neighborhood at the same time some twenty-odd years ago. We had cul-de-sac parties at which we all brought grills and hand-cranked ice cream makers. We did the moving party at Christmas, going from house to house. We went to movies and comedy clubs and restaurants together. We were all of a similar age, and several families had small children. I have watched these same children grow up, go through their own trials and waved them off as they were married or back as they divorced. This is no doubt one of the best bunch of individuals I know. They are truly great friends. Tonight, we have tickets to the play "Annie," and we will no doubt see several of my other half's acquaintances. The tickets were an end-of-year gift for him as he teaches the 14-year-old star of the play. It's bound to be a great event, but I don't know many of the parents who will be there, so I'm a bit on the anxious side about it. Finally, tomorrow we have a brunch scheduled with friends who moved to Virginia two years ago. I am already dreading this because this is one of the friends who hurt me very badly several years ago. She brought me into a Bible study, encouraged me to be in leadership and then was one of those who said nothing when I was asked to leave as the proverbial scapegoat. (Hmmm, onto that word proverbial today.) The leader of the study didn't like what an audit team had to recommend, and as the one who was asked to lead the audit, I was the one to get the boot. I've come to realize just how controlling the leader was, not to mention being quite the "queen bee" type. As for my friend, I haven't seen her since the "break-up" and will confess that I was hurt, then angry at her. For her to have been such a good friend, one whom I might say had been a bit of a mentor to me, I really would prefer not to see her and just forgo the brunch. I'm fairly certain that isn't an option. Too bad.

On the work front, I have avoided going back into the office for almost two weeks. I'm no longer able to manage my stress on any level, and when the tough got going, I bailed. I think I've recovered enough to pick it up again this weekend when I can work alone.

Because really, this socializing has seriously cut into my hermit lifestyle.

(Image is a collage found at AnangkaArts at Etsy and can be purchased in the form of a magnet or a greeting card. It is representative of the Tarot card "The Hermit" and goes by the same name.)

Size does matter...

As previously mentioned, I've been working part-part-time on a project for my previous employer, and it's been eating into my journal time. I've been going to the office several days per week, and I'm at the point that the work should be completed in another day or two. I don't know what, if anything, I'll do there once this is finished. They may need me for a few days per month, but we will see. As the weeks have gone by, the same things that caused me to leave have gradually started up again. I'm certainly not where I was six months ago, but this week has seen a bit of a setback for me. It just confirms that I need to stay away from highly emotional and stressful situations.

Speaking of stressful, I just read that a "plus-size" model was protesting her recently published photograph. It seems that the publisher had the picture airbrushed from a size 10 to a size 2. She said she was proud of her size and felt it was insulting to her for the photo to be changed. Funny, I was insulted to find out that a size 10 was considered a plus-size! When did that happen? I knew that the modelling business has been getting bad press for pushing the girls to be so thin that they aren't healthy, but I didn't realize that those standards were now being pushed on women in general. However, I have noticed as I've shopped online for the last year or more that designers do seem to be using less material. A size Large just ain't what it used to be.

I recently found a picture of myself taken about 5 months before I got married. Both my other half and I agreed that I look way, way, better now. We both thought I looked anorexic in the photo, but I remember never feeling thin enough. As I've aged, predictably, I've gained those few pounds per year. Anyone who has seen me within the last 10 or so years has said that I look great, maybe because I now have curves.

The good news from the fashion front is that curves are back in vogue! I just wish someone would tell that to all of those designers who think a size Large is equivalent to a size 8. Who would like to volunteer? Anyone?

(Image is a black and white gelatin silver print entitled "Hands." It can be purchased at Etsy from leanaphoto.)

Do or die...

Sadly, one of my dearest friends just had to be hospitalized after combining drugs and alcohol. Probably something I would have done way back when if I had had enough of any kind of serious drugs. I had no access to a gun, and the thought of slitting my wrists makes me queasy. I have a hard time having my finger pricked. However, I knew firsthand the kind of accident that could occur if I were to run my car headfirst into an oncoming 18-wheeler. I planned it, mapped it, found the perfect spot on the highway. Even did a few drive-throughs to make sure. Thankfully, I finally looked at the cab. Saw the driver. Realized that I was going to hurt someone other than myself. And I knew that it was no longer an option. Which kinda left me with no options.

I know now that had I been very seriously considering the act, I would have found a way. I'd like to think that it was because I didn't want to hurt anyone, but I doubt that I'm that noble. Maybe I was a coward, but I was enduring emotional pain that was so intense that I wasn't really living anyway. It's hard to think or talk about what I was going to do, but it was my truth at the time.

Or since I didn't carry through, was it really my truth?

"The pure and simple truth is rarely pure and never simple."--Oscar Wilde

(Image shown is a portion of a necklace found at VenusFlytrapJewels at Etsy. It contains a charm with photos related to mental health as well as a small bottle of pills. In black and white, no less.)

Know a good locksmith?

I've been out of work for almost 10 months, and although some might not think it's true, I have had somewhat of a schedule. Well, not for the first three months, that is. That was when I was simply numb. No thinking, no feeling, no responding. There were a handful of significantly stressful and humiliating events during the last decade of my life for which I had not grieved. Add to that the fact that I found myself in the final stage of my feminine life without much warning. Finally, the numbness wore off, and I became a thinking, feeling, responding maniac. Too much grief and hurt needed to be released. Too much time that had been, perhaps, wasted. This journal was my recording of what I needed to work through, get through one way or another. It took the last five or so months to do just that. One day I should probably record some of the events. I'm sure my doctor would recommend it. To anyone who took the time to read, encourage or offer up a prayer for me, I can't express enough just how thankful I am. Big, big hugs all around. I am eternally grateful.

Now, I am at a point in this journey that I can look back and see how I've progressed, and I am so encouraged by where I find myself. I am actually answering the telephone and talking to people. Amazing! I don't think I've ever said, but long ago during my first bad incident, I developed a phobia about the phone, and I've never gotten over it. Now, not only have I talked to people, I've gone back to work with my former employer. Technically, I guess I'm no longer employed, but then again, I'm not very technical. I think this is more of a part-part-time job. A good start, no? The retail position offered earlier in the year is still available, and I have been in touch with the owner recently. Again, good.

I know myself well enough to know that there will be more ups and downs. However, I believe that I've learned enough now to keep those ups and downs to a very low frequency. Hopefully, no more serious roller coaster emotional upheavals and certainly not with any regularity. I know when I need to back off, I think. Now that we've refinanced and made it possible for me to stay at home if I need to (which was a miracle to accomplish), I feel much less pressured and stressed. I have options. Again, amazing. I put myself at the mercy of others for so long, I forgot how that felt.

Well, all of this said because I believe that I had a bit of a schedule to my days. I am someone who needs a schedule. Plus, it was quiet, and I needed that as much as anything. My other half is now in the last of his four-week vacation, and having him constantly around has played havoc with my pseudo-schedule and my peace of mind! I can't wait for next week to arrive! He's not a horrible person, but it took this long and difficult 10-month journey to make him realize where I was headed. Downhill, very fast. He has begun to realize that he has never given me any support during the decade of difficulties and that he was, in fact, actually one of my difficulties. Sadly, over time, the result was the loss of our closeness. We will never have a true marriage again. He has also finally acknowledged that truth and is, like me, trying to live as friends. It is one of the situations that gives me the most grief. I am a person who needs to give and receive love. Not having that kind of relationship may be my biggest loss of all.

But enough of that. I am tremendously encouraged and almost feel giddy with the progress! I have a peace now that I have not had for a very long time. I think I've managed to put some of the pieces back together. My heart feels lighter, my emotions are positive, I have options, and I am able to not only unlock the door to The Place in which I had taken refuge but to step out into the world.

The Place will probably always be there. I can visit, but maybe I should throw away the key...

(Image is an assemblage from AnAlteredAffair at Etsy and is entitled "A Lock on My Heart."

All work and no play...

Woohoo!! I did it! I made it to the end of the week without crashing.

I'm calling the girls. I feel a party coming on, and it doesn't involve tea...

(Image is entitled "Guinness ACEO" and is found at bethberg on Etsy.)