So, I had to make a difficult decision recently. For the most part, I know I made the right decision, and I feel relief. But at the same time, I am already feeling like a little puppy with my nose to the glass and wanting back inside.
Being active in my community has been one of the ways in which I have strived to increase my social opportunities in town. I'm not sure whether either of the things I volunteer for actually do much for me socially, but at least they provide me something to do.
I have mentioned before that I'm active in my church. I prepare the church bulletins, and have been the overall administrator of much of the day-to-day minutiae. This past month, the members of my church (foolishly) elected me to be the lay leader of the church - the head of our governing board. I've been hinting here and there about it, primarily on Twitter, and telling a few individuals about it, but mostly letting it sink in before sharing it.
I am honored, certainly, by the confidence they have in me to do this - although I do also respect and understand that a part of it was that no-one else was foolish enough to take it on. But the last month or so I have gotten excited, and enthusiastic, and been brainstorming and inspired and all sorts of good things. Really good things. We're going through a transition, and there's a lot to be done. I've already been meeting with lots of folks in the church and getting an idea what makes them love our church, and where they feel a passion and a calling. All good stuff.
I have also been more than just a soccer coach. For the last two years, I've served on the Rec league's board. Mostly I did it so they wouldn't forget me when it came time to recruit coaches since I had been an assistant coach for my best friend's daughter's team, and I don't have any kids myself. But I really enjoyed it. Our board is under "staffed" and so each board member took on several roles. So, in addition to coaching, I ran the concessions stand, helped with the candy drive, and was director for a league.
This season was a bit overwhelming. And I was grumpy for reasons outside of soccer, and finding myself constantly pulled away from being able to coach my kids. Which was the fun part. So, near the end of the season - technically before I even knew about the church responsibility - I was considering taking a break. I was feeling burned out, and I wanted to just coach. With the new church responsibility, I had a good excuse I could use to gracefully back out for a couple of years (or longer, we'll see....) from the soccer responsibility.
Tonight was our soccer "banquet" for coaches, refs, team parents, board members, etc. And our elections for the following year's board. The board is light, and I felt a pang to want to help out - there were almost as many empty slots as there were people who filled them in - seven people and five remaining open slots. I did resist, and for the most part, I am glad I did. But I have enjoyed being a part of the team, and a part of me will miss that. They know I'm available to help, but they also know many others who have offered to be available not really follow through to be there, and once I'm no longer obligated to get up at 9 AM on a cold winter Saturday morning to winterize the field, I'm less likely to do it.
So, tonight is bittersweet. A bit of relief, a bit of sadness. One woman offered (unsolicited) about what a wonderful coach I was and how much her daughter had enjoyed having me as coach. Those accolades are always nice. So I'll stick to the good things, and let go of the less pleasant things, and we'll go from there.
Showing posts with label single. Show all posts
Showing posts with label single. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
Friday, August 24, 2012
Glass Houses... Lessons Learned...
So I just typed this long-ish rambling-ish post about Dog Sitting, that was really more about boundaries, but might have come off as some sort of sermon to parents to avoid creating Holy Terrors.
After writing it, I decided it was time to take a shower and get going for the day, so this technically becomes another shower post. [Borg properly pauses typing, moves over to the right, and applies Label, since Borg is often so forgetful about these tools]
As I lathered up and thought about what I wrote, I realized that last potential way in which my last post could be viewed. Is that what I intended? No, not really, but perhaps so since in some ways that's where I went with it. It wasn't what I intended when I wrote the words "Dog Sitting" in the Post title.
[A brief aside into the process of blogging for ME. Every time I start a post, I start with the title. I don't do this in other areas of writing, but I do here. Every once in awhile, while typing, I recognize my post is going some different direction, and that another title might be appropriate and change it, but it is rare. I use the title as my sign post, and before I finish the entry, I stop and re-read it to make sure that as I draw my conclusion that I tie it back up to that originating idea. I mean the title to be catchy, but I also use it (or try to use it) as a tool to keep my blog entries somewhat focused - I do have ADD, you'll recall, and I'm sure there is more than one post not specifically related to ADD where that has been made perfectly clear!) When I hit "New Post" I have a kernel of thoughts about where I'm going and what I want to express, but a LOT develops as I'm writing, and sometimes I go in directions I didn't originally plan for. I trust my fingers to go where they need to most times... even if they stray from the "plan"]
I want to be very clear that I am not trying to throw stones. Because I know that I live in a glass house. It is with a conscious effort, frankly, that I most often use "please" and "thank you". I've gotten much better now, and I probably throw it out unconsciously a bit, but I often am thinking about how important it is to make sure whoever I'm speaking to knows how much I appreciate what they are doing for me and recognizes that I am asking them to do something they really have no obligation, necessarily, to do. That if they do what I ask of them, ideally it is out of the kindness of their heart.
The reality is, of course, we have become programmed, sometimes, to simply respond to demands without thinking whether this is something we want to do for the other person or should do for the other person. Often we do things for others not necessarily as a gift, but as a thoughtless response or with a lack of understanding / back-bone that we don't *need* to do something just because someone told us to. (Now it is helpful for keeping jobs, steady pay-checks and food on the table, but STILL it is a choice as to whether we are going to do something for someone else, even if the choice is easy by other rewards (job, steady pay-check food) provided...)
I have learned this lesson - am still learning this lesson - the hard way. When I get in a pressured situation working with others, my ADD becomes so hyperfocused on what needs to be done, that I have been told I am REALLY good at barking orders. Apparently, others kinda feel resentful towards me for that. Some have even called me "bossy" and many, then, don't really want to work with me, again. Fortunately I left most of those losers behind in California years ago. ;)
I am still horrible at thank you notes, but I do try to go out of my way to make sure the person knows that I'm grateful. And I try to recognize that part of what is wanted behind a "thank you" note is not only an acknowledgment that you got it from you, but a confirmation that what they sent actually arrived. It is a kindness we give to the giver to let them know it was received.
I cringe whenever I read Dear Abby and hear about thank you notes not received, or gifts not received where protocol would expect them. A recent letter (and I can't find it to link here) was from a couple who had a sibling who had not given them a wedding gift, but now, a few years later, gave a lavish gift to another sibling. I cringed reading it thinking said sibling may very well have given them a gift, but it could have been lost or otherwise waylaid on its way to them. I don't know the circumstances, and they're probably as the letter writer wrote them, but it made me think of that possibility and how religious thank you notes sent and expected (and then not received for a non-gift) could have lead the sibling to politely enquire as to whether they got his or her gift. (My ADD brain goes wild sometimes! I think you may have realized that!)
But I have spent many years, now, listening to the Dalai Lama, and studying the "art of compassion" which he says underlies the "art of happiness" and it has made it easier to understand and hear the effect of what happens when we demand without thought to others. It has caused me to listen to others as they interact. To see the fallen faces when someone they love just demands something of them, and I see it underlying SOME of people's complaints and observations of emotional abuse, including my own observations.
And I'm still not good at it. But I try hard to be aware of it.
And I know you can't teach a 30 month old that the reason she should speak politely and calmly is out of kindness towards the other person. And I know many adults may not even realize that the reason we are kind and polite is NOT because it is more likely to get us what we want (although that is many folks' motivations) but we do it out of kindness to the other person. To say to the other person, I respect you. I care about you. I appreciate you. To acknowledge they don't HAVE to do what they are doing for you, and yet, nonetheless they have. To recognize that as a gift.
I was about to write to recognize they have no "duty" but I know that's a loaded word, and many of us would argue that there are many situations in which there is a *duty*. However, I think we can also describe many situations where even though there is a clear duty, it doesn't mean a person will do what they should. (Otherwise, for example, we wouldn't need the department of child and family services, or at least such a large one) Reinforcing, ultimately, that anything someone does for us is something they didn't have to do. (Obviously Hollywood scenarios where guns are drawn to head negate this, but even then, frankly, we have a choice, because we could allow ourselves to be shot!)
I am distressed by how much in this already demanding world, we respond by "demanding" more from others. And I do think these are hard lessons to learn and hard lessons to teach, and they are easier to teach at a younger age than at an older one. Part of my learning process was watching the expressions on someone else's face - someone I cared about - when I "barked" once rather than "asked".
As human beings we seek to be accepted and loved. We should express ourselves to each other in a way that acknowledges those basic simple universal desires. We should treat each other in a way we would like to be treated, and appreciate each other for all that we do for each other. We have seen quite clearly every day what happens when we forget this, or when others forget this. We've seen the destruction the damage, whether it be minor annoyance or great anger, to the hung head, the dropped face. My friend spoils her son because she loves him. She will gladly make him dinner every night whether he asks for it or not. But I see her face fall, her head drop, when he responds with demands and not requests. It isn't because she doesn't want to do those things for him, but because she is hurt - whether she'll admit it or not - that he doesn't seem to appreciate her and love her for doing them. His words are not kind. They aren't mean, but they aren't kind. This accumulates.
Let's accumulate love and kindness that can then more easily forgive and understand an occasional harsh, rush or hurried word or demand. No, what you've said may not be unkind, but wouldn't it be nicer if it were kind?
So as I continue to think on these things and I continue in my glass house to try and learn these lessons, I invite you to reflect on how you treat those you care about and how you show them through all your actions and all your words how much you love them. And if you're not, what might happen if you changed that? What if you didn't just assume that they knew you loved them? What would it hurt you to treat your loved ones as though you actually loved them?
It wouldn't hurt at all...
After writing it, I decided it was time to take a shower and get going for the day, so this technically becomes another shower post. [Borg properly pauses typing, moves over to the right, and applies Label, since Borg is often so forgetful about these tools]
As I lathered up and thought about what I wrote, I realized that last potential way in which my last post could be viewed. Is that what I intended? No, not really, but perhaps so since in some ways that's where I went with it. It wasn't what I intended when I wrote the words "Dog Sitting" in the Post title.
[A brief aside into the process of blogging for ME. Every time I start a post, I start with the title. I don't do this in other areas of writing, but I do here. Every once in awhile, while typing, I recognize my post is going some different direction, and that another title might be appropriate and change it, but it is rare. I use the title as my sign post, and before I finish the entry, I stop and re-read it to make sure that as I draw my conclusion that I tie it back up to that originating idea. I mean the title to be catchy, but I also use it (or try to use it) as a tool to keep my blog entries somewhat focused - I do have ADD, you'll recall, and I'm sure there is more than one post not specifically related to ADD where that has been made perfectly clear!) When I hit "New Post" I have a kernel of thoughts about where I'm going and what I want to express, but a LOT develops as I'm writing, and sometimes I go in directions I didn't originally plan for. I trust my fingers to go where they need to most times... even if they stray from the "plan"]
I want to be very clear that I am not trying to throw stones. Because I know that I live in a glass house. It is with a conscious effort, frankly, that I most often use "please" and "thank you". I've gotten much better now, and I probably throw it out unconsciously a bit, but I often am thinking about how important it is to make sure whoever I'm speaking to knows how much I appreciate what they are doing for me and recognizes that I am asking them to do something they really have no obligation, necessarily, to do. That if they do what I ask of them, ideally it is out of the kindness of their heart.
The reality is, of course, we have become programmed, sometimes, to simply respond to demands without thinking whether this is something we want to do for the other person or should do for the other person. Often we do things for others not necessarily as a gift, but as a thoughtless response or with a lack of understanding / back-bone that we don't *need* to do something just because someone told us to. (Now it is helpful for keeping jobs, steady pay-checks and food on the table, but STILL it is a choice as to whether we are going to do something for someone else, even if the choice is easy by other rewards (job, steady pay-check food) provided...)
I have learned this lesson - am still learning this lesson - the hard way. When I get in a pressured situation working with others, my ADD becomes so hyperfocused on what needs to be done, that I have been told I am REALLY good at barking orders. Apparently, others kinda feel resentful towards me for that. Some have even called me "bossy" and many, then, don't really want to work with me, again. Fortunately I left most of those losers behind in California years ago. ;)
I am still horrible at thank you notes, but I do try to go out of my way to make sure the person knows that I'm grateful. And I try to recognize that part of what is wanted behind a "thank you" note is not only an acknowledgment that you got it from you, but a confirmation that what they sent actually arrived. It is a kindness we give to the giver to let them know it was received.
I cringe whenever I read Dear Abby and hear about thank you notes not received, or gifts not received where protocol would expect them. A recent letter (and I can't find it to link here) was from a couple who had a sibling who had not given them a wedding gift, but now, a few years later, gave a lavish gift to another sibling. I cringed reading it thinking said sibling may very well have given them a gift, but it could have been lost or otherwise waylaid on its way to them. I don't know the circumstances, and they're probably as the letter writer wrote them, but it made me think of that possibility and how religious thank you notes sent and expected (and then not received for a non-gift) could have lead the sibling to politely enquire as to whether they got his or her gift. (My ADD brain goes wild sometimes! I think you may have realized that!)
But I have spent many years, now, listening to the Dalai Lama, and studying the "art of compassion" which he says underlies the "art of happiness" and it has made it easier to understand and hear the effect of what happens when we demand without thought to others. It has caused me to listen to others as they interact. To see the fallen faces when someone they love just demands something of them, and I see it underlying SOME of people's complaints and observations of emotional abuse, including my own observations.
And I'm still not good at it. But I try hard to be aware of it.
And I know you can't teach a 30 month old that the reason she should speak politely and calmly is out of kindness towards the other person. And I know many adults may not even realize that the reason we are kind and polite is NOT because it is more likely to get us what we want (although that is many folks' motivations) but we do it out of kindness to the other person. To say to the other person, I respect you. I care about you. I appreciate you. To acknowledge they don't HAVE to do what they are doing for you, and yet, nonetheless they have. To recognize that as a gift.
I was about to write to recognize they have no "duty" but I know that's a loaded word, and many of us would argue that there are many situations in which there is a *duty*. However, I think we can also describe many situations where even though there is a clear duty, it doesn't mean a person will do what they should. (Otherwise, for example, we wouldn't need the department of child and family services, or at least such a large one) Reinforcing, ultimately, that anything someone does for us is something they didn't have to do. (Obviously Hollywood scenarios where guns are drawn to head negate this, but even then, frankly, we have a choice, because we could allow ourselves to be shot!)
I am distressed by how much in this already demanding world, we respond by "demanding" more from others. And I do think these are hard lessons to learn and hard lessons to teach, and they are easier to teach at a younger age than at an older one. Part of my learning process was watching the expressions on someone else's face - someone I cared about - when I "barked" once rather than "asked".
As human beings we seek to be accepted and loved. We should express ourselves to each other in a way that acknowledges those basic simple universal desires. We should treat each other in a way we would like to be treated, and appreciate each other for all that we do for each other. We have seen quite clearly every day what happens when we forget this, or when others forget this. We've seen the destruction the damage, whether it be minor annoyance or great anger, to the hung head, the dropped face. My friend spoils her son because she loves him. She will gladly make him dinner every night whether he asks for it or not. But I see her face fall, her head drop, when he responds with demands and not requests. It isn't because she doesn't want to do those things for him, but because she is hurt - whether she'll admit it or not - that he doesn't seem to appreciate her and love her for doing them. His words are not kind. They aren't mean, but they aren't kind. This accumulates.
Let's accumulate love and kindness that can then more easily forgive and understand an occasional harsh, rush or hurried word or demand. No, what you've said may not be unkind, but wouldn't it be nicer if it were kind?
So as I continue to think on these things and I continue in my glass house to try and learn these lessons, I invite you to reflect on how you treat those you care about and how you show them through all your actions and all your words how much you love them. And if you're not, what might happen if you changed that? What if you didn't just assume that they knew you loved them? What would it hurt you to treat your loved ones as though you actually loved them?
It wouldn't hurt at all...
Dog Sitting
Many of you may have noticed in the last 10 days or so a certain "dog" like theme entering my posts and tweets. Some have boldly wondered and directly enquired whether I was dog sitting or not.
Yes, I am. But because I over-analyze and over-think things sometimes, I also became very amused that *this* was the question (more than once) asked in response to the sudden influx of canine characterizations.
I do amuse easily.
But I am amused because it has become clear that in 160ish posts or so, and 4,300+ 140 character tweets or so that YOU KNOW that if a dog were to suddenly enter my life, it probably would not be mine. That you all have gotten to know me so well to know that as much as I may love pups, I am not prepared for one of my own, and that I *KNOW* I'm not prepared for one of my own.
To be clear, I've had pets before. I've even had two dogs and two cats at the same time - and frankly, I do miss them dearly. But I was not raising them as a single parent, and while one day I hope to have the life and the patience that I could be a single parent (to someone of the feline or canine persuasion), I do know that right now that I do not have it in me. (Clearly, though I would prefer NOT to be a *single* parent, but I won't avoid the joy and companionship of an animal simply because I may be lacking human companionship, too)
While at some level joking (and being serious, too) about "parenting" animals, some of the same reasons I know better than to have a pet also led to my choice not to have real kidlings (the human variety). I have a lot of Mommy bloggers as readers and followers and I admire how hard it is to raise a child today. How easy, for example, it is to give into their every whine and demand. How hard it is to avoid raising holy terrors (wait, this isn't sounding as complimentary as I intended it to.. maybe my fingers are still tied in knots? Told you the Borg isn't always graceful....)
Well, gees, how do I get myself out of this hole? By admitting it wasn't entirely unrelated.
Yesterday I stumbled across another Mommy blog (there *DO* seem to be a lot of you out there!) reading Kit's latest post about Blogher, and how one of her valuable take-aways was meeting Babe_Chilla and how if she'd just rented a beach house she would have missed such a wonderful time.
I'll be honest, if Kit likes someone, I'm interested in learning more. And not just because she likes me... ;)
But, frankly, partly because she reminds me of my best friend and so she seems familiar to me, seems to have good taste, and because of her #wineparty, I met many of you. So, if Kit devotes a whole blog post to someone else, I'm gonna check her out. So I did.
Babe_Chilla's post yesterday was about Pushing Boundaries. And how much fun it is trying to train, er, teach young ones about boundaries. How to train, er, teach a young one how to behave well by showing that bad behavior will not be rewarded.
And I loved the blog entry and felt her pain, and I think that's why what started out very sweet and wonderful and supporting towards Mommies above started to appear to (although not intending to) venture into "snarky" control your holy terrors. Wait, I didn't actually say that above... *phew*
But I have often felt (as a non-parent, favorite aunt, soccer coach, girl scout leader, someone-who-always-gets-to-send-the-kids-back-kind-of-person) that this is really the keystone to good parenting (well, up there with feeding and clothing and changing diapers). Setting and maintaining boundaries. And I think it is also the keystone to managing relationships at any age.
BORG BLOG ASIDE: [And I hate writing that all at the same time because I hate the idea of setting "boundaries" with someone who I am close to, or someone I am intimate with or someone I trust. A part of me rebels at the idea that someone I would trust would need boundaries, and that is because, I guess, in an ideal world they wouldn't. They would know what is safe and what is not safe, what is appropriate and what is not appropriate. And frankly, that is a post for another day, perhaps, because I feel that one of the reasons my marriage failed was because I was not good at setting appropriate boundaries. (And while my fingers are itching to type more, my brain reminds them that this post is titled "DOG SITTING" - boundaries, dear fingers, boundaries!)]
As a non-parent, I have gently tread, but nonetheless frequently have made analogies and comparisons to dog training. Reward good behavior, ignore, discourage don't tolerate bad behavior. And that if you want a dog that doesn't get on the couch or bed or counter, then NEVER let them on the couch, bed or counter. Cesar Milan will tell you that dogs need structure, need boundaries. And they are constantly, like children, exploring to find out where they are. (They also need lots of exercise and activity to keep from getting bored, but, again, that's another aside). And if you allow them to get on the couch once and don't push them down because you're tired of doing it, they'll learn that there are certain times when it's okay to get on the couch, and they'll keep trying and testing to see "Now? is Now? a good time? Now? Now?"
A friend of mine has an adult son who has come home after a year of college and is taking a break. He's a good guy, from what I can see - I've just gotten to know him this spring and haven't had a lot of time to spend with him. He is working and not spending all his days playing video games (like I did in early 2011 when I wasn't working...). And she spoils him. He's her kid, and at the moment, she has to live with him, so it's completely her choice, decision, etc., how she wants to treat him and what expectations she wants to create in him - I'm not judging her here on these choices / decisions, or at least I am trying not to.
I do believe that he loves her, but it is hard for a third person to hear that in the way he speaks to her and the way that he demands certain things from her. None of them is unreasonable. And probably all of them are tasks she wants to do for him. And I support that. But it breaks my heart, I will admit, to hear, nonetheless, how this nineteen year old young man seems to expect these things, and seems to demand these things, without some exhibition of or expression of (that I can see) appreciation for what she does for him.
Before you "jump" on me (and really I put that it in quotes, because so far, dear readers, you have not shown yourselves to be the jumping kind - you have been good listeners and kind and supportive), I recognize whole-heartedly that I see just a slice of their interaction. And I do sincerely hope that there is something in his behavior in response that makes it worth her while to provide so much for him - more than simply a love of a mother for her child. (Although maybe that should be enough?) I recognize that there is (or hope that there is) more to the story than I see and that I relate above.
But I admit, lately, I have been much more aware, much more sensitive in listening to others interactions with each other. Hearing when someone demands something of another and whether there is kindness or underlying understanding or appreciation for the other person's compliance. (Wow, fingers, DOG SITTING!!!! Where are you going? Bad fingers...No, wait, there is a circular point...).
Babe_Chilla writes in her blog entry about a whining 30-month old girl. Each time her daughter demands in a way that is not appropriate, she responds to her as such. She illustrates with a demand her daughter made for water (all in CAPS). At the first demand, Chilla patiently responds: “OK my darling, how do we ask properly?” Baby girl tries again. Repeats what she's just said, and adds "PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE" to the end of it. A good start, but not what Chilla was looking for, so she goes another few rounds with her until her daughter finally gets it right.
Painful even reading it, I can't even imagine how much fun it is to do. But I really praise Babe_Chilla for her persistence. As I started to write two paragraphs above before I told my fingers they were wandering off topic, I really hear how we, as adults, often communicate with each other in the form of demands. So often without a please or a thank you, or even some acknowledgment that we are requesting another human being to do something that they don't actually need to do for us. And I think that's because as adults we often forget or don't even realize that the other person doesn't need to do ANYTHING for us and that each thing they do - even if they *are* being paid for it or otherwise rewarded - is a gift of their time, actions, kindness, etc., towards us or others.
Babe_Chilla could just give in when she hears the word "PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE" added in - Lord knows that is more than I often hear in daily interactions between folks - but she hasn't. Yes, daughter has made progress, but Babe_Chilla recognizes that this is still NOT the manner in which she wants her daughter asking for something, and she does her best to remain strong until she teaches her daughter exactly how it should be done. I think that she does this for her daughter, for herself, and for all of us. And I appreciate her for doing so.
Each night this puppy has a bed time routine that clearly I never concocted. We are establishing our own routines in this three week period, but this is one that she has ingrained and I was given clear instruction regarding. It has taken me awhile to recognize, at night, when she comes to me and tries to get my attention that it isn't because she needs to pee, but because she is afraid I will forget her night-time treat routine. (She trained me on this by several experiences where I took her out and she didn't pee) She doesn't care if I'm late with her morning chew, and often won't even whine if I'm late for dinner, but her bed-time routine she is pretty adamant about.
And frankly, I don't mind giving into her to do this routine because I think it's a wonderful exercise in rewarding good behavior. There are two kinds of treats that are given in some quantity each night. But each part of the treat is given in response to some pre-trained behavior she is supposed to do. The first half of the Beggin Strips goes to her after she properly shakes, for example. The second when she does the next trick. Etc., etc. So I appreciate this nightly exercise in reinforcing good behavior and I am trying really hard not to untrain this well behaved dog.
I admit I am not as good on our walks. She has been trained to stop at every corner and sit. And when I've walked her in the past with her owner, this is what we've done. This is a good exercise, and good reinforcement to sit and stop on command particularly in light of a potentially dangerous situation. I support the exercise in theory. But frankly, usually on our walks, I'm just not thinking about it, and she doesn't feel the need to remind me. Fortunately we often walk in circles and don't cross the street, or walk on long bike paths without such intersections. I hope my lack of discipline in these areas will simply affect her like that of a grandmother where the rules might be slightly different and that I don't undo all of her good training!
Alrighty, then, I think we're near the point where I'm supposed to neatly wrap this all into a ball and into some sort of conclusion. I began this post partly to express my amusement how in such a short period of time we've both been so successful in you getting to know me. That you recognize - what I'd like to think - is my ability to be responsible and not to take on a commitment that I am not prepared to do, so that if there were suddenly a canine in my life, it must be temporary. Talking about responsible pet ownership or choosing ownership responsibly, I made a connection to my choice not to be a parent. This led me to discuss the connections I do see between owner (or caretaker in this case) and dog and parent and child, and I wanted to tie the two together particularly with Babe_Chilla's post still fresh in my mind.
And, lastly, then I wanted to encourage and support all of the parents out there in the efforts you make and the hard work it takes to produce good, responsible, respectful and caring children. Particularly understanding that these children will become adults and the lessons you teach them painfully at 30-months will be more than amply rewarded by the wonderful human beings you create to go out and interact with the rest of the world. And as part of the rest of the world, I thank you.
Yes, I am. But because I over-analyze and over-think things sometimes, I also became very amused that *this* was the question (more than once) asked in response to the sudden influx of canine characterizations.
I do amuse easily.
But I am amused because it has become clear that in 160ish posts or so, and 4,300+ 140 character tweets or so that YOU KNOW that if a dog were to suddenly enter my life, it probably would not be mine. That you all have gotten to know me so well to know that as much as I may love pups, I am not prepared for one of my own, and that I *KNOW* I'm not prepared for one of my own.
To be clear, I've had pets before. I've even had two dogs and two cats at the same time - and frankly, I do miss them dearly. But I was not raising them as a single parent, and while one day I hope to have the life and the patience that I could be a single parent (to someone of the feline or canine persuasion), I do know that right now that I do not have it in me. (Clearly, though I would prefer NOT to be a *single* parent, but I won't avoid the joy and companionship of an animal simply because I may be lacking human companionship, too)
While at some level joking (and being serious, too) about "parenting" animals, some of the same reasons I know better than to have a pet also led to my choice not to have real kidlings (the human variety). I have a lot of Mommy bloggers as readers and followers and I admire how hard it is to raise a child today. How easy, for example, it is to give into their every whine and demand. How hard it is to avoid raising holy terrors (wait, this isn't sounding as complimentary as I intended it to.. maybe my fingers are still tied in knots? Told you the Borg isn't always graceful....)
Well, gees, how do I get myself out of this hole? By admitting it wasn't entirely unrelated.
Yesterday I stumbled across another Mommy blog (there *DO* seem to be a lot of you out there!) reading Kit's latest post about Blogher, and how one of her valuable take-aways was meeting Babe_Chilla and how if she'd just rented a beach house she would have missed such a wonderful time.
I'll be honest, if Kit likes someone, I'm interested in learning more. And not just because she likes me... ;)
But, frankly, partly because she reminds me of my best friend and so she seems familiar to me, seems to have good taste, and because of her #wineparty, I met many of you. So, if Kit devotes a whole blog post to someone else, I'm gonna check her out. So I did.
Babe_Chilla's post yesterday was about Pushing Boundaries. And how much fun it is trying to train, er, teach young ones about boundaries. How to train, er, teach a young one how to behave well by showing that bad behavior will not be rewarded.
And I loved the blog entry and felt her pain, and I think that's why what started out very sweet and wonderful and supporting towards Mommies above started to appear to (although not intending to) venture into "snarky" control your holy terrors. Wait, I didn't actually say that above... *phew*
But I have often felt (as a non-parent, favorite aunt, soccer coach, girl scout leader, someone-who-always-gets-to-send-the-kids-back-kind-of-person) that this is really the keystone to good parenting (well, up there with feeding and clothing and changing diapers). Setting and maintaining boundaries. And I think it is also the keystone to managing relationships at any age.
BORG BLOG ASIDE: [And I hate writing that all at the same time because I hate the idea of setting "boundaries" with someone who I am close to, or someone I am intimate with or someone I trust. A part of me rebels at the idea that someone I would trust would need boundaries, and that is because, I guess, in an ideal world they wouldn't. They would know what is safe and what is not safe, what is appropriate and what is not appropriate. And frankly, that is a post for another day, perhaps, because I feel that one of the reasons my marriage failed was because I was not good at setting appropriate boundaries. (And while my fingers are itching to type more, my brain reminds them that this post is titled "DOG SITTING" - boundaries, dear fingers, boundaries!)]
As a non-parent, I have gently tread, but nonetheless frequently have made analogies and comparisons to dog training. Reward good behavior, ignore, discourage don't tolerate bad behavior. And that if you want a dog that doesn't get on the couch or bed or counter, then NEVER let them on the couch, bed or counter. Cesar Milan will tell you that dogs need structure, need boundaries. And they are constantly, like children, exploring to find out where they are. (They also need lots of exercise and activity to keep from getting bored, but, again, that's another aside). And if you allow them to get on the couch once and don't push them down because you're tired of doing it, they'll learn that there are certain times when it's okay to get on the couch, and they'll keep trying and testing to see "Now? is Now? a good time? Now? Now?"
A friend of mine has an adult son who has come home after a year of college and is taking a break. He's a good guy, from what I can see - I've just gotten to know him this spring and haven't had a lot of time to spend with him. He is working and not spending all his days playing video games (like I did in early 2011 when I wasn't working...). And she spoils him. He's her kid, and at the moment, she has to live with him, so it's completely her choice, decision, etc., how she wants to treat him and what expectations she wants to create in him - I'm not judging her here on these choices / decisions, or at least I am trying not to.
I do believe that he loves her, but it is hard for a third person to hear that in the way he speaks to her and the way that he demands certain things from her. None of them is unreasonable. And probably all of them are tasks she wants to do for him. And I support that. But it breaks my heart, I will admit, to hear, nonetheless, how this nineteen year old young man seems to expect these things, and seems to demand these things, without some exhibition of or expression of (that I can see) appreciation for what she does for him.
Before you "jump" on me (and really I put that it in quotes, because so far, dear readers, you have not shown yourselves to be the jumping kind - you have been good listeners and kind and supportive), I recognize whole-heartedly that I see just a slice of their interaction. And I do sincerely hope that there is something in his behavior in response that makes it worth her while to provide so much for him - more than simply a love of a mother for her child. (Although maybe that should be enough?) I recognize that there is (or hope that there is) more to the story than I see and that I relate above.
But I admit, lately, I have been much more aware, much more sensitive in listening to others interactions with each other. Hearing when someone demands something of another and whether there is kindness or underlying understanding or appreciation for the other person's compliance. (Wow, fingers, DOG SITTING!!!! Where are you going? Bad fingers...No, wait, there is a circular point...).
Babe_Chilla writes in her blog entry about a whining 30-month old girl. Each time her daughter demands in a way that is not appropriate, she responds to her as such. She illustrates with a demand her daughter made for water (all in CAPS). At the first demand, Chilla patiently responds: “OK my darling, how do we ask properly?” Baby girl tries again. Repeats what she's just said, and adds "PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE" to the end of it. A good start, but not what Chilla was looking for, so she goes another few rounds with her until her daughter finally gets it right.
Painful even reading it, I can't even imagine how much fun it is to do. But I really praise Babe_Chilla for her persistence. As I started to write two paragraphs above before I told my fingers they were wandering off topic, I really hear how we, as adults, often communicate with each other in the form of demands. So often without a please or a thank you, or even some acknowledgment that we are requesting another human being to do something that they don't actually need to do for us. And I think that's because as adults we often forget or don't even realize that the other person doesn't need to do ANYTHING for us and that each thing they do - even if they *are* being paid for it or otherwise rewarded - is a gift of their time, actions, kindness, etc., towards us or others.
Babe_Chilla could just give in when she hears the word "PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE" added in - Lord knows that is more than I often hear in daily interactions between folks - but she hasn't. Yes, daughter has made progress, but Babe_Chilla recognizes that this is still NOT the manner in which she wants her daughter asking for something, and she does her best to remain strong until she teaches her daughter exactly how it should be done. I think that she does this for her daughter, for herself, and for all of us. And I appreciate her for doing so.
Each night this puppy has a bed time routine that clearly I never concocted. We are establishing our own routines in this three week period, but this is one that she has ingrained and I was given clear instruction regarding. It has taken me awhile to recognize, at night, when she comes to me and tries to get my attention that it isn't because she needs to pee, but because she is afraid I will forget her night-time treat routine. (She trained me on this by several experiences where I took her out and she didn't pee) She doesn't care if I'm late with her morning chew, and often won't even whine if I'm late for dinner, but her bed-time routine she is pretty adamant about.
And frankly, I don't mind giving into her to do this routine because I think it's a wonderful exercise in rewarding good behavior. There are two kinds of treats that are given in some quantity each night. But each part of the treat is given in response to some pre-trained behavior she is supposed to do. The first half of the Beggin Strips goes to her after she properly shakes, for example. The second when she does the next trick. Etc., etc. So I appreciate this nightly exercise in reinforcing good behavior and I am trying really hard not to untrain this well behaved dog.
I admit I am not as good on our walks. She has been trained to stop at every corner and sit. And when I've walked her in the past with her owner, this is what we've done. This is a good exercise, and good reinforcement to sit and stop on command particularly in light of a potentially dangerous situation. I support the exercise in theory. But frankly, usually on our walks, I'm just not thinking about it, and she doesn't feel the need to remind me. Fortunately we often walk in circles and don't cross the street, or walk on long bike paths without such intersections. I hope my lack of discipline in these areas will simply affect her like that of a grandmother where the rules might be slightly different and that I don't undo all of her good training!
Alrighty, then, I think we're near the point where I'm supposed to neatly wrap this all into a ball and into some sort of conclusion. I began this post partly to express my amusement how in such a short period of time we've both been so successful in you getting to know me. That you recognize - what I'd like to think - is my ability to be responsible and not to take on a commitment that I am not prepared to do, so that if there were suddenly a canine in my life, it must be temporary. Talking about responsible pet ownership or choosing ownership responsibly, I made a connection to my choice not to be a parent. This led me to discuss the connections I do see between owner (or caretaker in this case) and dog and parent and child, and I wanted to tie the two together particularly with Babe_Chilla's post still fresh in my mind.
And, lastly, then I wanted to encourage and support all of the parents out there in the efforts you make and the hard work it takes to produce good, responsible, respectful and caring children. Particularly understanding that these children will become adults and the lessons you teach them painfully at 30-months will be more than amply rewarded by the wonderful human beings you create to go out and interact with the rest of the world. And as part of the rest of the world, I thank you.
Saturday, August 18, 2012
The Polite Conundrum Dance
Or, alternate title: Dyke in a Small Town Revisited
I've spent a lot of time in larger metropolitan areas where finding the gay community was easy - or at least certainly much easier than I've been able to find here. So there was at least a place where you knew folks would pool who were also like you. Dupont Circle, the entire city of San Francisco, West Hollywood... You get the idea! So if you were interested in finding a date, at a minimum, you had at least one place you could go.
No such luck here. Trust me.
But in real life you never know who you're going to run into and whether they might be your soul mate or future life partner, or even a lovely fling. In real life you should leave yourself open to possibilities because you never know who might come along.
Here's the problem. If I hit on you in West Hollywood, and you're straight, you shouldn't be so surprised. If you're in my "hood" (so to speak) you should be comfortable enough that someone might think you're not just a tourist. Okay, that's not the problem... The problem is how we identify each other outside of the "hood".
When I came out in college, I kinda did it in a big way, almost without thinking, my first year by sitting at a "Coming Out Day" table (Coming Out Day is October 11th - so you can get an idea of how relatively early in the year it was). People I had gotten to know in that first month and a half reacted in a variety of ways. One woman (who admittedly later had a torrid lesbian affair her senior year) came up to me and gave me a big hug without even realizing or caring what I was doing. But others weren't so friendly. I had several straight female friends who suddenly became afraid I was going to hit on them and began to keep their distance.
Now this is problematic in two ways. First, so what if I did? Were they not capable of politely turning me down and being appropriately complimented that I might be interested? Apparently not. And the second, which is often a reaction that is part of this polite conundrum dance, is the idea that they were so "arrogant" as to think I would.
And there we have the two steps of the Polite Conundrum Dance. It's quite a simple dance, really.
Two women are talking and one is already out and known as a dyke. The other's sexual orientation is unknown.
If the dyke takes a chance and hits on her, if the other woman is straight, she may run away (and yes, even if she's also gay, she could run away...). So, one step backwards.
If the other person early on quickly clarifies - before the dyke takes a chance and hits on her - "I'm straight" she risks offending the dyke that she's so arrogant and that she's so scared that the dyke is going to hit on her. This may or may NOT be what the straight person is trying to indicate, mind you. That's not relevant in the Polite Conundrum Dance. What's relevant is what MIGHT POSSIBLY INCONCEIVABLY be nonetheless conceived, and not wanting to ruin or risk a new burgeoning friendship.
Now, for you straight people, one word of advice I have for you. Early on in the conversation, please feel free to drop in handily something about your boyfriend, or ex-boyfriend. That is a nice subtle way (if it doesn't seem too contrived) to clue us in that you are not available to us (although, for the record, I've discovered it does NOT necessarily mean that you might not still be interested, but that's a whole other world and a whole other post... See, for example, Married Women Like Breasts..!). Yes, unfortunately, stating outright early on, "I'm straight, by the way" won't typically go over well - even though in some ways it would be much appreciated - there are more subtle ways, nonetheless, to let the other person know.
Now, a little bit of wisdom about me, in particular. This may or may not apply to others like me - I can only speak to me. I am a shameless flirt. I love to flirt. It may or may not mean I am interested in something more, but sometimes, I'll admit, in whether I'm interested in something more may depend upon your response to me. However, given that I flirt with men, women, and dogs, alike, it may mean nothing at all as to whether I am interested in being more than friends. You should not be worried, upset, offended, or horrified if I flirt with you. Flirting is fun. If you enjoy it, then flirt back. If you don't, don't. Simple. And those rules, I think, generally apply to just about anyone - if you enjoy someone's flirtation, flirt back, and if you don't, then don't.
If you may be interested in something more with me, I'm dense. I'm dumb. You'll probably need to be explicit or spell it out. Or just really, really flirt a lot, and either way, I'll have lots of fun with you. ;) (I've discovered, apparently, sending me pictures is an effective way of letting me know... although I'm not necessarily a "visual" person....and wouldn't necessarily expect or want them, I can still appreciate the statement, apparently!)
But I have a lot of conversations with new people whose company I enjoy where I find myself engaged in The Polite Conundrum Dance. They already know I'm a dyke. Is that why they're interested in getting to know me better? Is that what they're interested in? If their twitter handle has the words "lesbian" or "dyke" already in them, those I got a clue who I'm dealing with. "Mama" however in your twitter handle does NOT exclude you from the possibility of playing on my team. And surprisingly I've run into very few people who have "straight" or "STR8" in their handle. The only Twitter handle I've found where it's been BEYOND clear that they weren't interested in a romantic relationship with me simply from their handle was "GODH8SFAGS" (although technically, when they wrote me, they did tell me that THEY loved me... so I'm so confused... ;) )
So if you're a new friend, please feel free to drop the gender, subtly in conversation, of your last significant other in order to clue me in... and if I flirt with you, don't be offended.. ;)
Now, check out my next post where I teach everyone how to do the Waltz. (1-2-3, 1-2-3...)
I've spent a lot of time in larger metropolitan areas where finding the gay community was easy - or at least certainly much easier than I've been able to find here. So there was at least a place where you knew folks would pool who were also like you. Dupont Circle, the entire city of San Francisco, West Hollywood... You get the idea! So if you were interested in finding a date, at a minimum, you had at least one place you could go.
No such luck here. Trust me.
But in real life you never know who you're going to run into and whether they might be your soul mate or future life partner, or even a lovely fling. In real life you should leave yourself open to possibilities because you never know who might come along.
Here's the problem. If I hit on you in West Hollywood, and you're straight, you shouldn't be so surprised. If you're in my "hood" (so to speak) you should be comfortable enough that someone might think you're not just a tourist. Okay, that's not the problem... The problem is how we identify each other outside of the "hood".
When I came out in college, I kinda did it in a big way, almost without thinking, my first year by sitting at a "Coming Out Day" table (Coming Out Day is October 11th - so you can get an idea of how relatively early in the year it was). People I had gotten to know in that first month and a half reacted in a variety of ways. One woman (who admittedly later had a torrid lesbian affair her senior year) came up to me and gave me a big hug without even realizing or caring what I was doing. But others weren't so friendly. I had several straight female friends who suddenly became afraid I was going to hit on them and began to keep their distance.
Now this is problematic in two ways. First, so what if I did? Were they not capable of politely turning me down and being appropriately complimented that I might be interested? Apparently not. And the second, which is often a reaction that is part of this polite conundrum dance, is the idea that they were so "arrogant" as to think I would.
And there we have the two steps of the Polite Conundrum Dance. It's quite a simple dance, really.
Two women are talking and one is already out and known as a dyke. The other's sexual orientation is unknown.
If the dyke takes a chance and hits on her, if the other woman is straight, she may run away (and yes, even if she's also gay, she could run away...). So, one step backwards.
If the other person early on quickly clarifies - before the dyke takes a chance and hits on her - "I'm straight" she risks offending the dyke that she's so arrogant and that she's so scared that the dyke is going to hit on her. This may or may NOT be what the straight person is trying to indicate, mind you. That's not relevant in the Polite Conundrum Dance. What's relevant is what MIGHT POSSIBLY INCONCEIVABLY be nonetheless conceived, and not wanting to ruin or risk a new burgeoning friendship.
Now, for you straight people, one word of advice I have for you. Early on in the conversation, please feel free to drop in handily something about your boyfriend, or ex-boyfriend. That is a nice subtle way (if it doesn't seem too contrived) to clue us in that you are not available to us (although, for the record, I've discovered it does NOT necessarily mean that you might not still be interested, but that's a whole other world and a whole other post... See, for example, Married Women Like Breasts..!). Yes, unfortunately, stating outright early on, "I'm straight, by the way" won't typically go over well - even though in some ways it would be much appreciated - there are more subtle ways, nonetheless, to let the other person know.
Now, a little bit of wisdom about me, in particular. This may or may not apply to others like me - I can only speak to me. I am a shameless flirt. I love to flirt. It may or may not mean I am interested in something more, but sometimes, I'll admit, in whether I'm interested in something more may depend upon your response to me. However, given that I flirt with men, women, and dogs, alike, it may mean nothing at all as to whether I am interested in being more than friends. You should not be worried, upset, offended, or horrified if I flirt with you. Flirting is fun. If you enjoy it, then flirt back. If you don't, don't. Simple. And those rules, I think, generally apply to just about anyone - if you enjoy someone's flirtation, flirt back, and if you don't, then don't.
If you may be interested in something more with me, I'm dense. I'm dumb. You'll probably need to be explicit or spell it out. Or just really, really flirt a lot, and either way, I'll have lots of fun with you. ;) (I've discovered, apparently, sending me pictures is an effective way of letting me know... although I'm not necessarily a "visual" person....and wouldn't necessarily expect or want them, I can still appreciate the statement, apparently!)
But I have a lot of conversations with new people whose company I enjoy where I find myself engaged in The Polite Conundrum Dance. They already know I'm a dyke. Is that why they're interested in getting to know me better? Is that what they're interested in? If their twitter handle has the words "lesbian" or "dyke" already in them, those I got a clue who I'm dealing with. "Mama" however in your twitter handle does NOT exclude you from the possibility of playing on my team. And surprisingly I've run into very few people who have "straight" or "STR8" in their handle. The only Twitter handle I've found where it's been BEYOND clear that they weren't interested in a romantic relationship with me simply from their handle was "GODH8SFAGS" (although technically, when they wrote me, they did tell me that THEY loved me... so I'm so confused... ;) )
So if you're a new friend, please feel free to drop the gender, subtly in conversation, of your last significant other in order to clue me in... and if I flirt with you, don't be offended.. ;)
Now, check out my next post where I teach everyone how to do the Waltz. (1-2-3, 1-2-3...)
Thursday, August 9, 2012
Incompetence, ADD and Quicksand
Right now, at 5:30 AM as I begin to type this post, I feel tremendously incompetent. First of all, I am sleep deprived. And I'm hungry, and there is no real food in the house. Both of these contribute to an increase in emotional response.
I feel like I've dug myself into a hole and I can't get out. And it's ridiculous. It is completely ridiculous. Anyone on the real life side can tell you easily what steps I should take on some of these big items. *I* can tell you what steps I need to take, but I can't seem to take them.
It's been three years, and I am still stuck in this hole.
The reality is, even once I do start taking those positive steps, I'll still be in this hole for awhile. There is no easy fix.
To be clear there are some very concrete issues that are keeping me in this place. And by place, I mean the hole, not simply here or even specifically here in this small town.
As I was trying to fall asleep I was thinking about my ideal solution to get my life in order, and to move forward. What is it that I would need to pull myself together and get past this survival mode into a mode where I thrive.
And the answer that is abundantly clear and yet absurdly impossible and unrealistic to find is a very, very patient partner / coach. Someone who will subtly train me while I'm not paying attention into developing better habits and better skills for managing my day-to-day life. Much like I'm teaching the girls soccer even while we play other games. Someone who will start out the day - preferably by jumping on the bed and wagging their tail, but that's a different memory - ready and excited with a plan for the day. Someone who will start my day by saying, "Here's what we're doing today!"
The key word is "we". You can give me a plan. You can tell me this is what I need to do for the day. And I might even get several of the items done. And believe me, having a regular plan is a big start. Huge start. Big improvement over what I'm able to manage for myself. But what I really need is someone by my side holding my hand until I learn how to do it myself.
The person would have to have a lot of patience. The person would probably have to love me very much to tolerate me and my stubbornness. The person would have to recognize that even if I teasingly resist, I will relent. If that person is there to do it with me - whatever it is - I'll do it.
But I can't seem to manage on my own. I can't seem to do this alone.
My life, outwardly, is a mess. For example, the yard is unruly and jungle-like. After the poison ivy, any desire I had to clean it up and risk repeated rash was long gone. I do try and spend a few minutes every so often - but today, for instance, I started to itch and stopped and scrubbed myself with poison ivy oil remover.
I have GREAT reasons / excuses for a lot of what I do and don't do. But for some things, I have no explanation at all other than I just can't. I don't know why I can't. There's no rational reasonable explanation - and believe me I've searched high and low for it. ADD is part of it - and perhaps it's a big part of it. I kinda want it to be the reason because then at least I'd have a reason. And given that so many other limitations I've found over my life can sometimes be traced back to ADD (an inability whatsoever, for example, to read a non-fiction book unless it's telling a story). Then, in theory, if I managed to fix the ADD - or manage its symptoms - then maybe I'd finally be able to fix everything else.
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But maybe I am too scared to thrive....
In my adolescent years, my family experienced what is now fairly typical drama and turmoil, but at the time, with all those adolescent hormones enhancing emotions, it was a hard time. I learned early on - even before the family drama - how to "survive". I am GREAT at surviving. That was my motto during my junior high and high school years - one I repeated often to my adult mentor - "I will survive" - and I have. And I do.
It wasn't until I had been with my ex-wife for a year or so that I begun to do more than just survive. That I began to do more than just provide for the basic necessities for myself. I was in a safe and secure relationship - this woman and I pledged to spend our lives together. She seemed to love me unconditionally - and I do, even still, believe that. With her, I was finally able to dream, to think about what it was that I wanted out of life, and that gave me the courage and the strength to take some risks and try something new that was ultimately in many ways quite rewarding, despite the concerns others expressed over the potential folly of my choices.
When I was with her, I finally felt free to thrive, safe to thrive. And it was glorious. I only have one wish in this world, frankly, and that is to be in a place in life, again, where I can thrive. Where I can feel safe and secure to hope for more than just the necessities in my life.
I learned long ago that the best way to avoid disappointment and being hurt was to keep your expectations reasonable. In fact, screw reasonable, keep your expectations low and then you may just be pleasantly surprised.
Thriving is about striving for more than what is reasonable and safe and expected. It's about taking chances and recognizing there may be disappointments on the path, but that overall things are good. Overall, the path I am on is leading me some place I want to go, and some place that I will enjoy when I get there - and I will enjoy both the journey and the destination.
Thriving is something like that.
With the ex, I tried something crazy and embarked in a different direction in my life. The road I had been on was a good one - a secure one. There was nothing wrong with the road I was on before that. But I wanted to try this different road. Many people thought I was nuts, including my family. But it was a good road, and I enjoyed the journey while I was on it, and just as I was beginning to hit my stride, she got scared. Scared that this new path might lead me away from her. And over time, slowly but surely, she began to put big boulders on this path. Until at one point, much like a Wile E. Coyote / Roadrunner cartoon, she took the Acme dynamite and just blew up the road altogether.
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Now to be clear, I am not abdicating my responsibility for my relationship or my contribution towards its demise. Anyone who knows the full story or who has heard me tell it will tell you that I take full responsibility for my actions, my inactions, my contribution to the situation imploding. But most who watched it unfold also realized that my wife was not well, and that frankly, there was a lot about the situation that was completely out of my control and also completely not about me, even though I suffered heavily from the shrapnel.
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But it makes me wonder if maybe despite how much I want to thrive, I am too scared to thrive. I am too scared to want, to hope, to dream of something more in my life. Because the more you have, the more that can be taken away from you.
That if I continue to live in this abject poverty, measured not simply by normal financial standards of "wealth" but with the asceticism physically and emotionally I have in my life, then there isn't much to take away from me. (Asceticism may not be the best word, DEARTH might be a good word).
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When I first began to heal from the wounds inflicted by the Acme dynamite, I had a good friend there to hold my hand. Who had a surprisingly significant capacity of patience for me. Who loved me very deeply. Who would come downstairs on Saturday mornings during the ever so brief (it seems, but wasn't at the same time) period I lived with her and would jump on my bed to get me up and going and wag her tail excited to start the weekend and set with the plans for us to do.
She moved away, unfortunately, and left me here behind. The two things were separate, and the latter was not deliberate - I think if she could have stayed, without taking Acme dynamite to HER life, she might have. And I miss her tremendously.
When she was here, fitness was important to her. And at one point, she trained for a long distance endurance event, and I was her training buddy. We worked out nine times a week for twenty weeks to prepare her for an awesome race. And I lost about as many pounds. Working out was a breeze. It didn't feel like working out because it was time spent together enjoying each other's company. It was time to catch up on the day. It was fun setting the plan and preparing the schedule for the week together. And I was in the best shape of my life.
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And now I look at pictures of myself - when I take a picture of more than just a head shot - and I recognize that I am now in the worst shape of my life. Again, I briefly allowed myself to thrive a little, to trust and depend upon someone, and they're gone and with it they took a part of my security and stability. (To be clear I have a very strong sense of self, and a very strong core being. This was about something more than that. This was about life gravy - not basic survival. Lest you think I'm too unhealthy... ;) )
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ADD often makes a bad situation worse - it makes you feel like your stuck in quicksand. Apparently the best thing to do if you get stuck in quicksand is not to struggle and flail about - it will only make you sink faster. But instead to be calm, still. I'm not sure, exactly, how it is you get yourself out once you are calm and still - I only know what makes it worse, to be frank. The one time I stepped in it, I stepped out of it quite quickly, too...
But with the ADD it feels like even when I make an effort, even when I try to get out of this hole, this pit of quicksand, that my efforts only land me more securely stuck here.
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So logic says just stay still. But I don't know, once I stop making it worse (IF I'm stopping making it worse) how to get out of here, anyway. I feel incompetent.
I need someone to help me. To train me. To teach me the skills I need. To apply some structure - not rigid, but still structure - to my life. So that I know on Saturday I do x chores, and on such and such an evening I do such and such errands and on Friday nights I go out for Happy Hour! And I need to be a wee bit more financially secure so that I *can* do more things. Frankly one of the reasons I don't like to go grocery shopping is that I can't afford the cost. And yet, I can't really afford not to eat, either, now can I? Kind of a Catch-22 there.
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So, if you know anyone who is willing to stand on stable ground and help pull me out of the quicksand, have them drop me a line. I'm trainable. Quite trainable. But that someone will need patience. And love. And preferably if they're a cute available secure dyke, well, that won't hurt, either.
Because even if I am scared, I still want to thrive. I want to get out of this quicksand. And as I think about it more - as I write about it here - I think that is the answer as to how someone gets out of literal quicksand, someone else, standing on secure ground helps pull them out... Just stick around a little longer and, again, have lots of patience. It won't be easy... but it will be worthwhile. That I can promise.
I feel like I've dug myself into a hole and I can't get out. And it's ridiculous. It is completely ridiculous. Anyone on the real life side can tell you easily what steps I should take on some of these big items. *I* can tell you what steps I need to take, but I can't seem to take them.
It's been three years, and I am still stuck in this hole.
The reality is, even once I do start taking those positive steps, I'll still be in this hole for awhile. There is no easy fix.
To be clear there are some very concrete issues that are keeping me in this place. And by place, I mean the hole, not simply here or even specifically here in this small town.
As I was trying to fall asleep I was thinking about my ideal solution to get my life in order, and to move forward. What is it that I would need to pull myself together and get past this survival mode into a mode where I thrive.
And the answer that is abundantly clear and yet absurdly impossible and unrealistic to find is a very, very patient partner / coach. Someone who will subtly train me while I'm not paying attention into developing better habits and better skills for managing my day-to-day life. Much like I'm teaching the girls soccer even while we play other games. Someone who will start out the day - preferably by jumping on the bed and wagging their tail, but that's a different memory - ready and excited with a plan for the day. Someone who will start my day by saying, "Here's what we're doing today!"
The key word is "we". You can give me a plan. You can tell me this is what I need to do for the day. And I might even get several of the items done. And believe me, having a regular plan is a big start. Huge start. Big improvement over what I'm able to manage for myself. But what I really need is someone by my side holding my hand until I learn how to do it myself.
The person would have to have a lot of patience. The person would probably have to love me very much to tolerate me and my stubbornness. The person would have to recognize that even if I teasingly resist, I will relent. If that person is there to do it with me - whatever it is - I'll do it.
But I can't seem to manage on my own. I can't seem to do this alone.
My life, outwardly, is a mess. For example, the yard is unruly and jungle-like. After the poison ivy, any desire I had to clean it up and risk repeated rash was long gone. I do try and spend a few minutes every so often - but today, for instance, I started to itch and stopped and scrubbed myself with poison ivy oil remover.
I have GREAT reasons / excuses for a lot of what I do and don't do. But for some things, I have no explanation at all other than I just can't. I don't know why I can't. There's no rational reasonable explanation - and believe me I've searched high and low for it. ADD is part of it - and perhaps it's a big part of it. I kinda want it to be the reason because then at least I'd have a reason. And given that so many other limitations I've found over my life can sometimes be traced back to ADD (an inability whatsoever, for example, to read a non-fiction book unless it's telling a story). Then, in theory, if I managed to fix the ADD - or manage its symptoms - then maybe I'd finally be able to fix everything else.
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But maybe I am too scared to thrive....
In my adolescent years, my family experienced what is now fairly typical drama and turmoil, but at the time, with all those adolescent hormones enhancing emotions, it was a hard time. I learned early on - even before the family drama - how to "survive". I am GREAT at surviving. That was my motto during my junior high and high school years - one I repeated often to my adult mentor - "I will survive" - and I have. And I do.
It wasn't until I had been with my ex-wife for a year or so that I begun to do more than just survive. That I began to do more than just provide for the basic necessities for myself. I was in a safe and secure relationship - this woman and I pledged to spend our lives together. She seemed to love me unconditionally - and I do, even still, believe that. With her, I was finally able to dream, to think about what it was that I wanted out of life, and that gave me the courage and the strength to take some risks and try something new that was ultimately in many ways quite rewarding, despite the concerns others expressed over the potential folly of my choices.
When I was with her, I finally felt free to thrive, safe to thrive. And it was glorious. I only have one wish in this world, frankly, and that is to be in a place in life, again, where I can thrive. Where I can feel safe and secure to hope for more than just the necessities in my life.
I learned long ago that the best way to avoid disappointment and being hurt was to keep your expectations reasonable. In fact, screw reasonable, keep your expectations low and then you may just be pleasantly surprised.
Thriving is about striving for more than what is reasonable and safe and expected. It's about taking chances and recognizing there may be disappointments on the path, but that overall things are good. Overall, the path I am on is leading me some place I want to go, and some place that I will enjoy when I get there - and I will enjoy both the journey and the destination.
Thriving is something like that.
With the ex, I tried something crazy and embarked in a different direction in my life. The road I had been on was a good one - a secure one. There was nothing wrong with the road I was on before that. But I wanted to try this different road. Many people thought I was nuts, including my family. But it was a good road, and I enjoyed the journey while I was on it, and just as I was beginning to hit my stride, she got scared. Scared that this new path might lead me away from her. And over time, slowly but surely, she began to put big boulders on this path. Until at one point, much like a Wile E. Coyote / Roadrunner cartoon, she took the Acme dynamite and just blew up the road altogether.
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Now to be clear, I am not abdicating my responsibility for my relationship or my contribution towards its demise. Anyone who knows the full story or who has heard me tell it will tell you that I take full responsibility for my actions, my inactions, my contribution to the situation imploding. But most who watched it unfold also realized that my wife was not well, and that frankly, there was a lot about the situation that was completely out of my control and also completely not about me, even though I suffered heavily from the shrapnel.
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But it makes me wonder if maybe despite how much I want to thrive, I am too scared to thrive. I am too scared to want, to hope, to dream of something more in my life. Because the more you have, the more that can be taken away from you.
That if I continue to live in this abject poverty, measured not simply by normal financial standards of "wealth" but with the asceticism physically and emotionally I have in my life, then there isn't much to take away from me. (Asceticism may not be the best word, DEARTH might be a good word).
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When I first began to heal from the wounds inflicted by the Acme dynamite, I had a good friend there to hold my hand. Who had a surprisingly significant capacity of patience for me. Who loved me very deeply. Who would come downstairs on Saturday mornings during the ever so brief (it seems, but wasn't at the same time) period I lived with her and would jump on my bed to get me up and going and wag her tail excited to start the weekend and set with the plans for us to do.
She moved away, unfortunately, and left me here behind. The two things were separate, and the latter was not deliberate - I think if she could have stayed, without taking Acme dynamite to HER life, she might have. And I miss her tremendously.
When she was here, fitness was important to her. And at one point, she trained for a long distance endurance event, and I was her training buddy. We worked out nine times a week for twenty weeks to prepare her for an awesome race. And I lost about as many pounds. Working out was a breeze. It didn't feel like working out because it was time spent together enjoying each other's company. It was time to catch up on the day. It was fun setting the plan and preparing the schedule for the week together. And I was in the best shape of my life.
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And now I look at pictures of myself - when I take a picture of more than just a head shot - and I recognize that I am now in the worst shape of my life. Again, I briefly allowed myself to thrive a little, to trust and depend upon someone, and they're gone and with it they took a part of my security and stability. (To be clear I have a very strong sense of self, and a very strong core being. This was about something more than that. This was about life gravy - not basic survival. Lest you think I'm too unhealthy... ;) )
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ADD often makes a bad situation worse - it makes you feel like your stuck in quicksand. Apparently the best thing to do if you get stuck in quicksand is not to struggle and flail about - it will only make you sink faster. But instead to be calm, still. I'm not sure, exactly, how it is you get yourself out once you are calm and still - I only know what makes it worse, to be frank. The one time I stepped in it, I stepped out of it quite quickly, too...
But with the ADD it feels like even when I make an effort, even when I try to get out of this hole, this pit of quicksand, that my efforts only land me more securely stuck here.
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So logic says just stay still. But I don't know, once I stop making it worse (IF I'm stopping making it worse) how to get out of here, anyway. I feel incompetent.
I need someone to help me. To train me. To teach me the skills I need. To apply some structure - not rigid, but still structure - to my life. So that I know on Saturday I do x chores, and on such and such an evening I do such and such errands and on Friday nights I go out for Happy Hour! And I need to be a wee bit more financially secure so that I *can* do more things. Frankly one of the reasons I don't like to go grocery shopping is that I can't afford the cost. And yet, I can't really afford not to eat, either, now can I? Kind of a Catch-22 there.
---------------
So, if you know anyone who is willing to stand on stable ground and help pull me out of the quicksand, have them drop me a line. I'm trainable. Quite trainable. But that someone will need patience. And love. And preferably if they're a cute available secure dyke, well, that won't hurt, either.
Because even if I am scared, I still want to thrive. I want to get out of this quicksand. And as I think about it more - as I write about it here - I think that is the answer as to how someone gets out of literal quicksand, someone else, standing on secure ground helps pull them out... Just stick around a little longer and, again, have lots of patience. It won't be easy... but it will be worthwhile. That I can promise.
Friday, August 3, 2012
Insomnia & ADD Meds
What a wonderful couple... What a lovely dance you do...
The general choice of drug to treat ADD is a stimulant. Our brain chemistry is different - I've seen a map of my brain and there are distinctions (the specifics of which at 5:30 in the morning I can't recall clearly enough to articulate here) between the brain of an average person and the person with ADD (although these days, ADD is beginning to trend towards the norm, rather than something different).
So when you apply stimulants to folks with ADD, the general result is it calms them down. It makes it easier, then, to focus.
But still, it seems, they are stimulants. And still, it seems, they can affect your sleep patterns.
It can be a frustrating cycle trying, then, to adjust on the other end with sleep meds - at the moment I am not - and get the balance right.
Meds help. There is no quiestion about that. But they can also create problems as well as solve them. And even when I have been taking meds more regularly than I am at the moment, I have found that they still are not enough alone to overcome the restraints ADD places on my capabilities.
And I've tried all sorts of other things. Believe me.
Unfortunately, one of the best ways to work on overcoming ADD is with a partner. And, in case you haven't already figured it out from my earlier posts - or that tag over there on the right - I am single. And even when I had a partner, it was a huge burden on them to help me with this.
I don't know the answers. But I know I'm not the only one asking questions. My ADD posts - completely without promotion - have become my highest viewed posts. Which means this one will possibly be seen considerably.
Please, if you're on this journey, don't just be a bystander, be a contributor. I can use all of the help I can get. We all can.
Oh, and I could have used a couple more hours of sleep this night. If you have those in your back pocket, I'd like them please. Thank you.
The general choice of drug to treat ADD is a stimulant. Our brain chemistry is different - I've seen a map of my brain and there are distinctions (the specifics of which at 5:30 in the morning I can't recall clearly enough to articulate here) between the brain of an average person and the person with ADD (although these days, ADD is beginning to trend towards the norm, rather than something different).
So when you apply stimulants to folks with ADD, the general result is it calms them down. It makes it easier, then, to focus.
But still, it seems, they are stimulants. And still, it seems, they can affect your sleep patterns.
It can be a frustrating cycle trying, then, to adjust on the other end with sleep meds - at the moment I am not - and get the balance right.
Meds help. There is no quiestion about that. But they can also create problems as well as solve them. And even when I have been taking meds more regularly than I am at the moment, I have found that they still are not enough alone to overcome the restraints ADD places on my capabilities.
And I've tried all sorts of other things. Believe me.
Unfortunately, one of the best ways to work on overcoming ADD is with a partner. And, in case you haven't already figured it out from my earlier posts - or that tag over there on the right - I am single. And even when I had a partner, it was a huge burden on them to help me with this.
I don't know the answers. But I know I'm not the only one asking questions. My ADD posts - completely without promotion - have become my highest viewed posts. Which means this one will possibly be seen considerably.
Please, if you're on this journey, don't just be a bystander, be a contributor. I can use all of the help I can get. We all can.
Oh, and I could have used a couple more hours of sleep this night. If you have those in your back pocket, I'd like them please. Thank you.
Sunday, July 29, 2012
Erotic Dreams of... laundry...?
So this morning, before waking up, I'm having this dream. It's me and my ex-wife. Apparently, at some level we've reconciled and are talking to each other, because at the point of the dream I remember first, we're taking off each other's clothes and beginning to be intimate.
It's been awhile for me in real life, so I'm sitting there thinking this is nice. And then, quite early on before much of anything has really happened, I get all giddy inside the dream and pull myself away, and laugh. (Really smooth, Borg. Really, smooth. But wait, it gets better).
So, of course, I feel obligated to tell her what's made me so giddy and happy. (I swear this was my TRUE unembellished dream). She's asking "Whaa-a-at?" To which I tell her, "You know what one of the great things about us getting back together is? You doing the laundry again."
And I wonder why I'm single...
It's been awhile for me in real life, so I'm sitting there thinking this is nice. And then, quite early on before much of anything has really happened, I get all giddy inside the dream and pull myself away, and laugh. (Really smooth, Borg. Really, smooth. But wait, it gets better).
So, of course, I feel obligated to tell her what's made me so giddy and happy. (I swear this was my TRUE unembellished dream). She's asking "Whaa-a-at?" To which I tell her, "You know what one of the great things about us getting back together is? You doing the laundry again."
And I wonder why I'm single...
Thursday, July 26, 2012
A Moment of Morbidity
Not many people like to think of their own death. I think no matter what our age is, we still possess a certain amount of expectation of invincibility that the youth is so imbued with. Unless there are certain factors at play (health issues, risky activities), we all think we have time.
And I hope we do. Don't get me wrong. I'm not here to tell you I know something I don't. I am hoping I have many "happy years" left in me, and that there are still more years to come than years that have passed, although I realize that I'm at the age where I could be at the half-way point, or past it, even though I don't quite feel I'm there yet. Or I hope that I'm not there yet.
But I was reading Dear Abby this morning, as I usually do each morning, and a letter she received got me thinking about my own death. Well, less my death, than what message I would want my loved ones to know if I were suddenly gone.
The letter (which I will paste below to satisfy your morbid curiosity!) was from a recent widow whose last experience with her husband was a fight. He went out the door angry, and was in a fatal car accident while talking on the cellphone with his brother. The gist of her letter was trying to deflect the blame his family was placing on her for his death (LOVELY!) and to serve as a warning about cellphones and driving.
But what struck me (perhaps a poor choice of words) was this idea of losing someone or more accurately, dying without someone else knowing how much I loved them. (And yes, Garth Brooks had a song about this, too "If Tomorrow Never Comes") Now the reality is that I doubt that there are very few people in my life who don't know how I feel about them. And this one person I was thinking about in particular, I do know that she knows how I feel. But if I were - God forbid! - to walk out the door today, and be hit by a car (because we don't really have that many busses in a small town, and while I do live near the railroad tracks, I'm usually smart enough not to step in front of one of those), I do feel that there is "unfinished business" with this person. I know that really, if I'm dead, it's been finished. But, there are still a few things, I want her to know - reinforced, perhaps - if I weren't here to tell her myself in the future. The reality is I don't like having doubts, and so I don't want those I love ever having doubts either.
So my poor friend Robin (who lives in another time zone) is going to wake up and find a very morbid e-mail waiting for her. (Sorry, Robin..). It first started out giving her some very specific information of what to communicate to whom. But then, I couldn't help myself, apparently, since I was on the topic, and I gave her details about how I wanted to be cremated and what I wanted done with my ashes, etc. (Again, sorry, Robin...)
But I realized that here is the real problem. I'm not really sure how my friends far and wide would get notice. I mean, I feel fairly certain that people here would find and notify my family. And that people locally would know, and folks that my family knows would know... but there's still a whole lot of ground that might not get covered. Including Robin.
Or you.
Hopefully, this isn't something that would ever become an issue (although maybe I'll send a second follow-up e-mail to Robin with a clue about my social networking passwords... ), but in this day and age of far flung friends, who knows and notices when one falls off the radar?
Okay - not going in that direction this morning. ;)
But if you take anything away from this post, I hope you share in my sense of the importance to let those you love always know how much you love them. Hug your significant other if you're fortunate enough to have one. Tell your best friend how much you appreciate him or her. Let those you care about know how much you care while you're still around to tell them. Because life is too precious to live in anger, or pain, or insecurity or to leave those we love in those states. We humans and our relationships are really all we each have of substance. These are the things that matter at the end of the day. Make sure those that matter know how much they matter. This is one area where you don't want to leave them guessing...
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The original letter, which again, touches upon issues I hope no-one else ever has to deal with, but nonetheless got me thinking and writing this morning... Oh, and send a prayer for this Idaho Widow that she might find some peace given this horrible tragedy.
DEAR ABBY: A few weeks ago my husband and I were having an argument. He stormed out of the house and was killed in a wreck while talking to his brother on his cellphone.
His family blames me for arguing with him. While I feel sad that the last thing we did was argue, I feel his brother should shoulder some of the blame because he was on the cellphone with him, which is illegal in our state.
Luckily, no one else was hurt in the crash, but I am very hurt that "John's" family is so angry at me. Please remind folks not to drive while on a cellphone. -- IDAHO WIDOW
And I hope we do. Don't get me wrong. I'm not here to tell you I know something I don't. I am hoping I have many "happy years" left in me, and that there are still more years to come than years that have passed, although I realize that I'm at the age where I could be at the half-way point, or past it, even though I don't quite feel I'm there yet. Or I hope that I'm not there yet.
But I was reading Dear Abby this morning, as I usually do each morning, and a letter she received got me thinking about my own death. Well, less my death, than what message I would want my loved ones to know if I were suddenly gone.
The letter (which I will paste below to satisfy your morbid curiosity!) was from a recent widow whose last experience with her husband was a fight. He went out the door angry, and was in a fatal car accident while talking on the cellphone with his brother. The gist of her letter was trying to deflect the blame his family was placing on her for his death (LOVELY!) and to serve as a warning about cellphones and driving.
But what struck me (perhaps a poor choice of words) was this idea of losing someone or more accurately, dying without someone else knowing how much I loved them. (And yes, Garth Brooks had a song about this, too "If Tomorrow Never Comes") Now the reality is that I doubt that there are very few people in my life who don't know how I feel about them. And this one person I was thinking about in particular, I do know that she knows how I feel. But if I were - God forbid! - to walk out the door today, and be hit by a car (because we don't really have that many busses in a small town, and while I do live near the railroad tracks, I'm usually smart enough not to step in front of one of those), I do feel that there is "unfinished business" with this person. I know that really, if I'm dead, it's been finished. But, there are still a few things, I want her to know - reinforced, perhaps - if I weren't here to tell her myself in the future. The reality is I don't like having doubts, and so I don't want those I love ever having doubts either.
So my poor friend Robin (who lives in another time zone) is going to wake up and find a very morbid e-mail waiting for her. (Sorry, Robin..). It first started out giving her some very specific information of what to communicate to whom. But then, I couldn't help myself, apparently, since I was on the topic, and I gave her details about how I wanted to be cremated and what I wanted done with my ashes, etc. (Again, sorry, Robin...)
But I realized that here is the real problem. I'm not really sure how my friends far and wide would get notice. I mean, I feel fairly certain that people here would find and notify my family. And that people locally would know, and folks that my family knows would know... but there's still a whole lot of ground that might not get covered. Including Robin.
Or you.
Hopefully, this isn't something that would ever become an issue (although maybe I'll send a second follow-up e-mail to Robin with a clue about my social networking passwords... ), but in this day and age of far flung friends, who knows and notices when one falls off the radar?
Okay - not going in that direction this morning. ;)
But if you take anything away from this post, I hope you share in my sense of the importance to let those you love always know how much you love them. Hug your significant other if you're fortunate enough to have one. Tell your best friend how much you appreciate him or her. Let those you care about know how much you care while you're still around to tell them. Because life is too precious to live in anger, or pain, or insecurity or to leave those we love in those states. We humans and our relationships are really all we each have of substance. These are the things that matter at the end of the day. Make sure those that matter know how much they matter. This is one area where you don't want to leave them guessing...
-----
The original letter, which again, touches upon issues I hope no-one else ever has to deal with, but nonetheless got me thinking and writing this morning... Oh, and send a prayer for this Idaho Widow that she might find some peace given this horrible tragedy.
DEAR ABBY: A few weeks ago my husband and I were having an argument. He stormed out of the house and was killed in a wreck while talking to his brother on his cellphone.
His family blames me for arguing with him. While I feel sad that the last thing we did was argue, I feel his brother should shoulder some of the blame because he was on the cellphone with him, which is illegal in our state.
Luckily, no one else was hurt in the crash, but I am very hurt that "John's" family is so angry at me. Please remind folks not to drive while on a cellphone. -- IDAHO WIDOW
Thursday, July 19, 2012
Sticks & Stones - A Followup - Pt 1 - Self Esteem
My post Sticks & Stones from June 30th really struck a chord with folks. It's currently the fifth most read post of all-time on my blog.
Today I received a comment that struck me:
The first, which I replied to her in the comments section, was specific to the incident she was referring to. A blog post that she had written had sparked a firestorm of response, and a lot of it, as you can see above, was clearly hurtful. She was surprised to have received such a reaction.
The second direction was this issue of self-esteem and our role in this hurtful dynamic. I will admit that whether something hurts us often has a lot to do with us. A friend of mine recently described to me an incident where she felt bullied and I admit I scratched my head when she first described the situation and what had happened to me. But part of what made her feel bullied wasn't completely what was happening to her at the time, but who she was as a result of her experience that she brought to that moment. And fortunately, she was able to step back and recognize this and not be further hurt by the confusion I expressed. ("Um, so what exactly did they do? That's it? So? Why did this bother you?")
When our parents taught us that little thing about "Sticks & Stones" they were trying to teach us that we have power over what hurts us. That really, the only thing that can hurt us, that we don't have much power over, is sticks and stones. But the words we can develop an immunity to, in theory, and not let them hurt us. Sounds nice in theory, but in practice, as I discussed in the last post, it doesn't quite work out so well. However, in this post, and in the next (few? couple? not yet written) posts, I hope to help develop an understanding of why these things hurt and perhaps a strategy of how we can work on making them hurt less.
How much of this is tied into our self-esteem and our image of ourself?
Generally, I like to believe that I have a pretty good sense of self, and I hope that this translates into a healthy self-esteem. I know who I am and I am comfortable with who I am. I know I'm not perfect, and I'm happy with that. I know that I am human. I know that I will make mistakes. I know that I will hurt people, even though, for the most part, I try very hard to be supportive and not hurtful. I know that I do the best I can, and I try not to beat myself up too much about the things where I fall short where I want to be, and instead, try to learn from those experiences and do better next time.
But as a kid, like so many of us, I was often a new-comer, and often insecure in my new surroundings. I was short (okay, still am), geeky (okay, still am), and different from the others solely by the circumstance of being someone new. When I moved to the neighborhood where I spent most of my childhood, I was five years old, and the kids who lived in the 'hood had know each other all their lives. I was a stranger to them. Later, when I went to a new school that taught K-12, and I entered in the fifth grade, I was new to these kids as well. I learned, over the next eight years, that many of us came and went, so over time I was no longer so unique. But it was tough being at a new school, and being different.
I see, as an adult, that I brought my own insecurities about being different into these situations. I do NOT think the results would have been any different because kids are kids are kids, and I would have been teased regardless of my own insecurities.
In third grade, though, I had a different experience. I was sent to a new start-up pilot program. There we were all new. It was the first year of the program. There we were all the same because we were all new and we came from different parts of the county to be in this program. I imagine we eventually formed some cliques, although my memory is hazy, and frankly I think those "cliques" were less exclusionary circles and more groupings of people who had interests in common as would happen, naturally, in any social setting - particularly those free of other barriers.
My school history and history of being teased is in many ways a long sidebar, but it's informative to me about the situations where I was hurt as a kid, and in evaluating, now, when I am hurt as an adult.
With our significant others, sometimes we have buttons pre-installed. Something our parents used to pick us on, our siblings, our previous significant others, or areas where we already feel insecure. Having someone whose opinion matters to us pick at these areas and push these buttons can trigger a reaction that may be stronger than the situation, objectively, might warrant. It is sometimes difficult for us to step back and separate what emotional response belongs to the past, and what belongs to the present.
I used to joke (although it really wasn't funny, and I often wasn't laughing) that my ex-wife had land-mines. She did. She had emotional land-mines that I would inadvertently unknowingly step on and trigger a huge reaction and response. On occasion - particularly early on - we would be able to diffuse them, and sometimes, those land mines would then become a future joke between us. But we weren't always so lucky. (And this, again, is why I'm single...)
When I realized I was gay, I was very fortunate to have been raised in an open minded and somewhat supportive family. My mother wasn't too terribly surprised, and my father merely worried that life would be harder for me. But there was never a question for me, fortunately, over whether they would still love me. I know others have had a much harder "coming out" process, and again, faced ridicule, disownment, subjected to teasings and beatings in school, and all around horrible time of it. I do realize how fortunate I am. But I also realize this is why any attempts to insult me, upset me or put me down because I'm gay really are fairly ineffectual. As you read in "Isn't Dyke Derogatory?" for me, personally, the answer is "no".
You can't hurt me by calling me gay or a dyke. I am. I am comfortable with it. Westboro Baptist Church can tell me that God hates me, but I am secure knowing that isn't true. Those words don't hurt me.
But this doesn't mean that there aren't words that can hurt me. Part of what was hard about my ex-wife's barrage of complaints about me and to me is that there were some half-truths in among them. So I had a hard time sorting out what really belonged to me, and what belonged to her. It wasn't until she accused me of having an affair with a man, which at one point she actually did, that I began to be able to step back and realize much of what she was saying wasn't about me. That I, unfortunately, was an easy punching bag for her to lash out at because she was so unhappy with herself and her life. (That's very simplistic, but for now, given the length already of this post, let's just go with it). Five years later, I have a little more insight into what DID belong to me with that accusation, but it was so ludicrous at the time, that it let me step back and not take what she was saying to me as personally as I had been.
Self-esteem is certainly, then, a factor in whether we let words or insults from others hurt us. If we don't like ourselves, or a part of ourselves, or we're unhappy with a part of ourselves, and they hit that button square on the nose, it taps into our own insecurities about that aspect of ourselves and hurts. Sometimes that is what they intend to do, and sometimes, though, it's inadvertent.
So, my conclusion in this first part is that yes, our self esteem and our insecurities plays a big part in whether something someone else says hurts us.
In the next few posts, I hope to address other factors that contribute to when something hurts, what we do to ourselves, and answer the question posed "How do I stop letting it affect me?"
I don't pretend to have all the answers, but I do have some insight that I hope will help. Comments and feedback is always welcome. Stay tuned!
Cllick on this link to check out Pt 2 - Beating Yourself Up
Today I received a comment that struck me:
Why is it so hard to believe a compliment someone gives us,and so easy to believe the hurtful things other can say? I admittedly have Self Esteem problems. I have severe depression and a tendency to self harm (generally more mentally than physically) I beat myself to a pulp all the time. I don't need anyone else to do it for me. How do I stop letting it effect me?This comment set my mind off in several different directions (and based on how long I typed on the second direction, it will clearly also, set me off on several blog posts, too).
The first, which I replied to her in the comments section, was specific to the incident she was referring to. A blog post that she had written had sparked a firestorm of response, and a lot of it, as you can see above, was clearly hurtful. She was surprised to have received such a reaction.
The second direction was this issue of self-esteem and our role in this hurtful dynamic. I will admit that whether something hurts us often has a lot to do with us. A friend of mine recently described to me an incident where she felt bullied and I admit I scratched my head when she first described the situation and what had happened to me. But part of what made her feel bullied wasn't completely what was happening to her at the time, but who she was as a result of her experience that she brought to that moment. And fortunately, she was able to step back and recognize this and not be further hurt by the confusion I expressed. ("Um, so what exactly did they do? That's it? So? Why did this bother you?")
When our parents taught us that little thing about "Sticks & Stones" they were trying to teach us that we have power over what hurts us. That really, the only thing that can hurt us, that we don't have much power over, is sticks and stones. But the words we can develop an immunity to, in theory, and not let them hurt us. Sounds nice in theory, but in practice, as I discussed in the last post, it doesn't quite work out so well. However, in this post, and in the next (few? couple? not yet written) posts, I hope to help develop an understanding of why these things hurt and perhaps a strategy of how we can work on making them hurt less.
How much of this is tied into our self-esteem and our image of ourself?
Generally, I like to believe that I have a pretty good sense of self, and I hope that this translates into a healthy self-esteem. I know who I am and I am comfortable with who I am. I know I'm not perfect, and I'm happy with that. I know that I am human. I know that I will make mistakes. I know that I will hurt people, even though, for the most part, I try very hard to be supportive and not hurtful. I know that I do the best I can, and I try not to beat myself up too much about the things where I fall short where I want to be, and instead, try to learn from those experiences and do better next time.
But as a kid, like so many of us, I was often a new-comer, and often insecure in my new surroundings. I was short (okay, still am), geeky (okay, still am), and different from the others solely by the circumstance of being someone new. When I moved to the neighborhood where I spent most of my childhood, I was five years old, and the kids who lived in the 'hood had know each other all their lives. I was a stranger to them. Later, when I went to a new school that taught K-12, and I entered in the fifth grade, I was new to these kids as well. I learned, over the next eight years, that many of us came and went, so over time I was no longer so unique. But it was tough being at a new school, and being different.
I see, as an adult, that I brought my own insecurities about being different into these situations. I do NOT think the results would have been any different because kids are kids are kids, and I would have been teased regardless of my own insecurities.
In third grade, though, I had a different experience. I was sent to a new start-up pilot program. There we were all new. It was the first year of the program. There we were all the same because we were all new and we came from different parts of the county to be in this program. I imagine we eventually formed some cliques, although my memory is hazy, and frankly I think those "cliques" were less exclusionary circles and more groupings of people who had interests in common as would happen, naturally, in any social setting - particularly those free of other barriers.
My school history and history of being teased is in many ways a long sidebar, but it's informative to me about the situations where I was hurt as a kid, and in evaluating, now, when I am hurt as an adult.
With our significant others, sometimes we have buttons pre-installed. Something our parents used to pick us on, our siblings, our previous significant others, or areas where we already feel insecure. Having someone whose opinion matters to us pick at these areas and push these buttons can trigger a reaction that may be stronger than the situation, objectively, might warrant. It is sometimes difficult for us to step back and separate what emotional response belongs to the past, and what belongs to the present.
I used to joke (although it really wasn't funny, and I often wasn't laughing) that my ex-wife had land-mines. She did. She had emotional land-mines that I would inadvertently unknowingly step on and trigger a huge reaction and response. On occasion - particularly early on - we would be able to diffuse them, and sometimes, those land mines would then become a future joke between us. But we weren't always so lucky. (And this, again, is why I'm single...)
When I realized I was gay, I was very fortunate to have been raised in an open minded and somewhat supportive family. My mother wasn't too terribly surprised, and my father merely worried that life would be harder for me. But there was never a question for me, fortunately, over whether they would still love me. I know others have had a much harder "coming out" process, and again, faced ridicule, disownment, subjected to teasings and beatings in school, and all around horrible time of it. I do realize how fortunate I am. But I also realize this is why any attempts to insult me, upset me or put me down because I'm gay really are fairly ineffectual. As you read in "Isn't Dyke Derogatory?" for me, personally, the answer is "no".
You can't hurt me by calling me gay or a dyke. I am. I am comfortable with it. Westboro Baptist Church can tell me that God hates me, but I am secure knowing that isn't true. Those words don't hurt me.
But this doesn't mean that there aren't words that can hurt me. Part of what was hard about my ex-wife's barrage of complaints about me and to me is that there were some half-truths in among them. So I had a hard time sorting out what really belonged to me, and what belonged to her. It wasn't until she accused me of having an affair with a man, which at one point she actually did, that I began to be able to step back and realize much of what she was saying wasn't about me. That I, unfortunately, was an easy punching bag for her to lash out at because she was so unhappy with herself and her life. (That's very simplistic, but for now, given the length already of this post, let's just go with it). Five years later, I have a little more insight into what DID belong to me with that accusation, but it was so ludicrous at the time, that it let me step back and not take what she was saying to me as personally as I had been.
Self-esteem is certainly, then, a factor in whether we let words or insults from others hurt us. If we don't like ourselves, or a part of ourselves, or we're unhappy with a part of ourselves, and they hit that button square on the nose, it taps into our own insecurities about that aspect of ourselves and hurts. Sometimes that is what they intend to do, and sometimes, though, it's inadvertent.
So, my conclusion in this first part is that yes, our self esteem and our insecurities plays a big part in whether something someone else says hurts us.
In the next few posts, I hope to address other factors that contribute to when something hurts, what we do to ourselves, and answer the question posed "How do I stop letting it affect me?"
I don't pretend to have all the answers, but I do have some insight that I hope will help. Comments and feedback is always welcome. Stay tuned!
Cllick on this link to check out Pt 2 - Beating Yourself Up
Sunday, July 8, 2012
The List
As I have mentioned before, I am single. It is questionable, I guess, whether I am available, but I'm okay with that. And frankly, I think whether or not I am available is dependent on what you're interested in.
Which is indirectly the subject of this post.
Let's face it. Whether we'll admit it or not, whether we're even conscious of it or not, and perhaps regardless of whether we're currently involved with someone or not, we have a list. A list of attributes, qualities, features, things we desire in a partner - whether for play or something more serious.
Some of us may include external attributes in our list - appearances: physique, clothes, boots, jewelry, watches, tattoos, makeup, hair color and / or style, maybe even the car one drives. Essentially, things that can be observed before you even say "Hello". Some might dismiss these attributes as superficial or unimportant, but for those who acknowledge them, they can argue - probably quite well - that there is a lot you can tell about a person from these external attributes. How important their health is to them, their attention to detail, their concern (or lack thereof) of material things, whether they may belong or try to belong to a certain group or niche, including, potentially their marital status, or their education. Some people can tell a lot about you by looking at your hands and figure out what kind of work you might do. So while it might be easy to dismiss these physical attributes, they are not insignificant in giving us information about the person underneath it all.
Some of us may have certain unmeasurabe intangibles on our list. Must have a good heart, good sense of humor, good character, strength, vulnerability, intelligence (although in theory that's measurable, I guess), experienced, good soul, honest, kind-hearted, faithful, loyal, dependable. All of these are great words, and important traits potentially for mates, but they're kind of hard to measure or determine. Particularly from a distance, but sometimes, even up close.
Some of us may look for certain behavioral attributes. Frankly, I want someone who can cook. Someone to be active with, someone who does the laundry, someone who pays the bills, someone who has a job, someone who plays with their kids, someone who spends time with their parents, someone who's a workaholic, someone who surfs, someone who snuggles, someone who can give a good massage, someone who is articulate, someone who shaves (oh, wait, maybe that's in the first category), someone who gets out of the house, someone who is a homebody or a couch potato (or both), someone who plays a musical instrument, someone who goes to church, someone who makes romantic gestures such as flowers or spontaneous picnics, someone who is affectionate. These are things we can observe.
And then, lastly, there are always the experiential factors that may fit in any of the above categories. These are the factors that circle around like baggage at the airport terminal, because, frankly, that's what they are, at some level, left over baggage or scars from previous relationships. Things that someone else DIDN'T have that we really hope the next person will have. Or maybe, if we've been lucky in love, some features that a former partner did have or share. Sex on a regular basis, (Well, let's face it by the time most of our relationships die, this is one thing that has been often dead for a while before it), someone who likes to dance, someone who communicates well, someone who makes birthdays special, someone who likes to sleep in or at least is capable of sleeping in, someone who isn't afraid of hitting the sheets in the afternoon (oh, wait, there's a theme growing, isn't there? I'm not saying this is MY list, necessarily.. .Eek!), someone who knows how to relax and also knows how to get things done.
We may joke about relationship sites where you try to write a profile that describes you or what you're looking for in a mate, but the reality is that we all have a list. Even if we don't admit to it. Even to ourselves.
What I think is useful - but hey, see above, I'm single - is refining that list. Clarifying the things you want versus the things you need, and trying to be honest with yourself and flexible with your potential partners. And to be realistic, too.
Ideally, for example, I want someone I'll never fight with. I fought enough with the ex, clearly had an over-sensitive reaction last month to the bickering of my friends (See, Bickering) and really feel like the late Rodney King (oh, didn't you hear? he died last month..) "Can't we all just get along?"
But the reality is that I won't find someone who won't fight or bicker. And if I do, there's probably going to be some other serious relationship issues instead, and I don't even want to think what those might be. Realistically what I want is two things: I want someone who will fight fair, and along with that or part of that, someone who is willing to resolve a situation after a fight, and not simply bury it or run away. It doesn't have to be 100% of the time. But I'll admit, I have some pretty huge scars from my long-term ex from our fights. In hindsight, I understand it was her mental illness that was often the underlying issue, but that doesn't help me then and not that much now. We'd have a fight - seemingly out of nowhere, and like the Seinfeld show, often about nothing. I *always* had to be the adult and de-escalate the fight once it started, which I really hated, by the way. But even when I tried to approach the ex about it afterwards - "Hey, can we talk about the other night?" - she'd just as often as not respond to me, "What, do you want to fight again?" To which my short answer was "No." and my longer, often only internal answer was "No, which is why I'd like to talk about what happened before so we can try to keep it from happening again, or find better ways to respond to each other if it does arise."
So on my MUST HAVE list, frankly, is someone who will fight fair a good portion of the time.
On my "Gosh I want" list is someone who will cook. It's the "gees, wouldn't it be nice" and maybe it's the fluff you put on match.com or chemistry.com (I can't say e-Harmony, because they wouldn't take me as a client since they're homophobic.. oops!) but it isn't the end all and be-all.
I think, in order to have a healthy relationship moving forward, when I do, it is helpful to be clear about my list - to be clear what the basic requirements are for me, and what are the "gees, wouldn't it be nice" bonuses are so that I can set reasonable expectations for myself, for my partner, and for our future relationship.
What is on your list?
Which is indirectly the subject of this post.
Let's face it. Whether we'll admit it or not, whether we're even conscious of it or not, and perhaps regardless of whether we're currently involved with someone or not, we have a list. A list of attributes, qualities, features, things we desire in a partner - whether for play or something more serious.
Some of us may include external attributes in our list - appearances: physique, clothes, boots, jewelry, watches, tattoos, makeup, hair color and / or style, maybe even the car one drives. Essentially, things that can be observed before you even say "Hello". Some might dismiss these attributes as superficial or unimportant, but for those who acknowledge them, they can argue - probably quite well - that there is a lot you can tell about a person from these external attributes. How important their health is to them, their attention to detail, their concern (or lack thereof) of material things, whether they may belong or try to belong to a certain group or niche, including, potentially their marital status, or their education. Some people can tell a lot about you by looking at your hands and figure out what kind of work you might do. So while it might be easy to dismiss these physical attributes, they are not insignificant in giving us information about the person underneath it all.
Some of us may have certain unmeasurabe intangibles on our list. Must have a good heart, good sense of humor, good character, strength, vulnerability, intelligence (although in theory that's measurable, I guess), experienced, good soul, honest, kind-hearted, faithful, loyal, dependable. All of these are great words, and important traits potentially for mates, but they're kind of hard to measure or determine. Particularly from a distance, but sometimes, even up close.
Some of us may look for certain behavioral attributes. Frankly, I want someone who can cook. Someone to be active with, someone who does the laundry, someone who pays the bills, someone who has a job, someone who plays with their kids, someone who spends time with their parents, someone who's a workaholic, someone who surfs, someone who snuggles, someone who can give a good massage, someone who is articulate, someone who shaves (oh, wait, maybe that's in the first category), someone who gets out of the house, someone who is a homebody or a couch potato (or both), someone who plays a musical instrument, someone who goes to church, someone who makes romantic gestures such as flowers or spontaneous picnics, someone who is affectionate. These are things we can observe.
And then, lastly, there are always the experiential factors that may fit in any of the above categories. These are the factors that circle around like baggage at the airport terminal, because, frankly, that's what they are, at some level, left over baggage or scars from previous relationships. Things that someone else DIDN'T have that we really hope the next person will have. Or maybe, if we've been lucky in love, some features that a former partner did have or share. Sex on a regular basis, (Well, let's face it by the time most of our relationships die, this is one thing that has been often dead for a while before it), someone who likes to dance, someone who communicates well, someone who makes birthdays special, someone who likes to sleep in or at least is capable of sleeping in, someone who isn't afraid of hitting the sheets in the afternoon (oh, wait, there's a theme growing, isn't there? I'm not saying this is MY list, necessarily.. .Eek!), someone who knows how to relax and also knows how to get things done.
We may joke about relationship sites where you try to write a profile that describes you or what you're looking for in a mate, but the reality is that we all have a list. Even if we don't admit to it. Even to ourselves.
What I think is useful - but hey, see above, I'm single - is refining that list. Clarifying the things you want versus the things you need, and trying to be honest with yourself and flexible with your potential partners. And to be realistic, too.
Ideally, for example, I want someone I'll never fight with. I fought enough with the ex, clearly had an over-sensitive reaction last month to the bickering of my friends (See, Bickering) and really feel like the late Rodney King (oh, didn't you hear? he died last month..) "Can't we all just get along?"
But the reality is that I won't find someone who won't fight or bicker. And if I do, there's probably going to be some other serious relationship issues instead, and I don't even want to think what those might be. Realistically what I want is two things: I want someone who will fight fair, and along with that or part of that, someone who is willing to resolve a situation after a fight, and not simply bury it or run away. It doesn't have to be 100% of the time. But I'll admit, I have some pretty huge scars from my long-term ex from our fights. In hindsight, I understand it was her mental illness that was often the underlying issue, but that doesn't help me then and not that much now. We'd have a fight - seemingly out of nowhere, and like the Seinfeld show, often about nothing. I *always* had to be the adult and de-escalate the fight once it started, which I really hated, by the way. But even when I tried to approach the ex about it afterwards - "Hey, can we talk about the other night?" - she'd just as often as not respond to me, "What, do you want to fight again?" To which my short answer was "No." and my longer, often only internal answer was "No, which is why I'd like to talk about what happened before so we can try to keep it from happening again, or find better ways to respond to each other if it does arise."
So on my MUST HAVE list, frankly, is someone who will fight fair a good portion of the time.
On my "Gosh I want" list is someone who will cook. It's the "gees, wouldn't it be nice" and maybe it's the fluff you put on match.com or chemistry.com (I can't say e-Harmony, because they wouldn't take me as a client since they're homophobic.. oops!) but it isn't the end all and be-all.
I think, in order to have a healthy relationship moving forward, when I do, it is helpful to be clear about my list - to be clear what the basic requirements are for me, and what are the "gees, wouldn't it be nice" bonuses are so that I can set reasonable expectations for myself, for my partner, and for our future relationship.
What is on your list?
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
Dyke in a Small Town (15 & 16)
So, when I started out this blog, I wrote this post about all the different things that came to me to describe myself. I had written this list, and then I randomized it, and wrote it out. I started several posts to begin elaborating on all of the things in the list - and I never quite finished it.
Too many other things came up.
But I have a link to the post in my Twitter bio, and so (surprisingly!) folks have been reading it. And the other day, one of my new followers mentioned the post and told me she had a question. Sure, go ahead, ask - I'm an open book after all...
She said she wondered about #15 and #16 - "How's that working out for you?"
Now at first I was confused, because when I went back to look at my post, I had thought she'd said 14 and 15, and I didn't see what was so incongruous about them.
14. I am single. BLAH (no, that wasn't in the original post)
and
15. I am a dyke.
16. I live in a small town.
"Well," I laughed when I responded to her, "look at 14. I guess not so well."
But that is a little too simplistic, and I'd like to think she was asking about more than simply my dating life, although some days that is all I wonder about.
I will admit, when I first arrived here in this small town, I was warned that people might not be so accepting of who I am, and I did not suddenly drape myself in a rainbow flag and nothing else and parade down Main Street (yes, there really is a Main Street). But that isn't exactly who I am to begin with, so it wasn't as if not doing so was a big sacrifice.
One of the reasons for randomizng the list is that there wasn't any ONE item in the list that I felt particularly defined me. All of those attributes and facts of life combined to describe who I am and where I am in my life. Yes, in the late eighties, early nineties, I sported a mullet - then The Official Dyke Haircut. And in college, I was known to wear a pink triangle. But it's always been just a part of who I am, not all of who I am - probably a part of the reason for my thoughts on Pride.
But while I do not go blazing down Main Street wearing nothing but a rainbow flag, I also do not hide in a closet - at least not very long. I use gender appropriate pronouns (sometimes gender neutral). I talk about my "ex"?-wife. There aren't always a lot of moments where I need to be clear about these things, so it doesn't always come up with everyone. But I don't hide it, either.
When I do have a conversation about it with someone usually I hear about other gay relatives or friends. When they are specifically women, I joke about being set up with them. Sometimes I have wondered if I am the only gay person in the area, but I know that I am not. There is no bar where we gather - have to go out to a "big" city for that - but apparently there once was a lesbian bar in town. Dating opportunities are not as obvious as they were when I lived in San Francisco. And yet, I felt just as lonely when I lived there as I do here sometimes. So, I don't think the size of the town is responsible.
I like living in a small town. You have to be a bit more careful, because you never quite know who is where and already knows what. News is so slow, that something you do might easily be found on the front page of the paper. You never know when you go get lunch in the drive thru if the person serving you will recognize you from soccer. So, you might think twice about going out to grab a quick bite with bed head. But the people care about you. It is a community. And once you are embraced by the community - once you lose "outsider" status - you are embraced by a community.
When I came here, I virtually had nothing. And when I moved, finally, out of my friends' home into one of my own, people stepped up to help me out. One woman donated an old bed from her guest bedroom. Others sorted through their kitchen cabinets for things they never use. One dropped a desk off on my front porch one day when I was out. Another brought me a couch and an easy chair. Others gave spare linens. Even just recently, I had someone give me a washer and dryer. All of these gestures invited me to stay. They wanted me to be comfortable, and they wanted me to stay.
And one day, some of these girls who keep telling me about their dyke sisters, will introduce me to one of them! (But, one might wonder - and this is a whole other post - whether I'm ready to date, anyway.. so it's probably best that they're waiting). But when they do, it will once more be a sign that I belong here in this small town. Dyke and all.
Too many other things came up.
But I have a link to the post in my Twitter bio, and so (surprisingly!) folks have been reading it. And the other day, one of my new followers mentioned the post and told me she had a question. Sure, go ahead, ask - I'm an open book after all...
She said she wondered about #15 and #16 - "How's that working out for you?"
Now at first I was confused, because when I went back to look at my post, I had thought she'd said 14 and 15, and I didn't see what was so incongruous about them.
14. I am single. BLAH (no, that wasn't in the original post)
and
15. I am a dyke.
16. I live in a small town.
"Well," I laughed when I responded to her, "look at 14. I guess not so well."
But that is a little too simplistic, and I'd like to think she was asking about more than simply my dating life, although some days that is all I wonder about.
I will admit, when I first arrived here in this small town, I was warned that people might not be so accepting of who I am, and I did not suddenly drape myself in a rainbow flag and nothing else and parade down Main Street (yes, there really is a Main Street). But that isn't exactly who I am to begin with, so it wasn't as if not doing so was a big sacrifice.
One of the reasons for randomizng the list is that there wasn't any ONE item in the list that I felt particularly defined me. All of those attributes and facts of life combined to describe who I am and where I am in my life. Yes, in the late eighties, early nineties, I sported a mullet - then The Official Dyke Haircut. And in college, I was known to wear a pink triangle. But it's always been just a part of who I am, not all of who I am - probably a part of the reason for my thoughts on Pride.
But while I do not go blazing down Main Street wearing nothing but a rainbow flag, I also do not hide in a closet - at least not very long. I use gender appropriate pronouns (sometimes gender neutral). I talk about my "ex"?-wife. There aren't always a lot of moments where I need to be clear about these things, so it doesn't always come up with everyone. But I don't hide it, either.
When I do have a conversation about it with someone usually I hear about other gay relatives or friends. When they are specifically women, I joke about being set up with them. Sometimes I have wondered if I am the only gay person in the area, but I know that I am not. There is no bar where we gather - have to go out to a "big" city for that - but apparently there once was a lesbian bar in town. Dating opportunities are not as obvious as they were when I lived in San Francisco. And yet, I felt just as lonely when I lived there as I do here sometimes. So, I don't think the size of the town is responsible.
I like living in a small town. You have to be a bit more careful, because you never quite know who is where and already knows what. News is so slow, that something you do might easily be found on the front page of the paper. You never know when you go get lunch in the drive thru if the person serving you will recognize you from soccer. So, you might think twice about going out to grab a quick bite with bed head. But the people care about you. It is a community. And once you are embraced by the community - once you lose "outsider" status - you are embraced by a community.
When I came here, I virtually had nothing. And when I moved, finally, out of my friends' home into one of my own, people stepped up to help me out. One woman donated an old bed from her guest bedroom. Others sorted through their kitchen cabinets for things they never use. One dropped a desk off on my front porch one day when I was out. Another brought me a couch and an easy chair. Others gave spare linens. Even just recently, I had someone give me a washer and dryer. All of these gestures invited me to stay. They wanted me to be comfortable, and they wanted me to stay.
And one day, some of these girls who keep telling me about their dyke sisters, will introduce me to one of them! (But, one might wonder - and this is a whole other post - whether I'm ready to date, anyway.. so it's probably best that they're waiting). But when they do, it will once more be a sign that I belong here in this small town. Dyke and all.
Monday, June 18, 2012
WAITING!!!
Oh my, and one of the BIGGEST reasons I came away from this weekend thanking God that I was still single was all of the time that I spent WAITNG for others! I mean, being single, the only person you are waiting for is you. When you're ready to go, you, um, go?
It's pretty simple.
It's not that I never wait in my life. I do. And I didn't mind the "waiting" when I was ready before the time that we said to go happened. But the text messages at that time, or worse, after, that said "Fifteen more minutes..." when I was already waiting in the lobby. Given that my room was across the hall from them, I finally trained them out of this "Meet in the lobby" crap and told them just to knock on my door when they were ready to go.
But MAN did I have to WAIT a lot this weekend!
-----------------------------
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It's pretty simple.
It's not that I never wait in my life. I do. And I didn't mind the "waiting" when I was ready before the time that we said to go happened. But the text messages at that time, or worse, after, that said "Fifteen more minutes..." when I was already waiting in the lobby. Given that my room was across the hall from them, I finally trained them out of this "Meet in the lobby" crap and told them just to knock on my door when they were ready to go.
But MAN did I have to WAIT a lot this weekend!
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Bickering
Or more aptly titled, the joy of being single? Perhaps.
I understand in long term relationships - and maybe even in short-term relationships - a certain amount of bickering will occur. Certainly with the long-term ex, we bickered quite a bit, and it worried my ex considerably. In hindsight, perhaps she had a point. But at the time, we began to notice when we spent time around other couples that we weren't the only ones that bickered. That bickering was, perhaps, a price to pay for having someone by your side all the time. That and having someone at your side all the time was the price to pay!
I have recognized in the three years since we parted ways that I have developed certain sensitivities and over-sensitivities from that relationship. When I hear one partner belittling another, it sets the hair on my neck to high alert. When one is being disrespectful of another, I get anxious. I am very sensitive to the signs that while someone may love another, that love may still not be quite healthy. For either party.
Bickering is bound to happen when you take two (or more) independent people and spirits and try to make them into a single unit. This is true with romantic couples, and true in other social gatherings with a purpose. (Go to any board meeting of any local sports group, charity, parents group, etc, and there's bound to be some bickering in there).
I heard a bit of bickering this weekend - and I listened to the tone of voice. One party seemed prepared to bicker no matter what was said by the other party. And I have been in that position - there's one guy who I don't care what he says, it will annoy me, even if it is how nice I look today. But also the response of the other, or if there was poking or prompting of bickering. Who was escalating, and who was diffusing? If any. And over what were they bickering? Was it something that would actually save twenty minutes in traffic, or was it over something that didn't matter if either or both were right? Such as, "I like salt." "Well, I like pepper". (Bad example, but go with me here.. )
I found this weekend that I really didn't miss bickering. That I really don't like bickering. At one point, I was joking - but really quite serious - from the back seat of the car and told them that the kids don't like it when Mommy and Mommy fight. Even though they weren't "fighting", the tension with their bickering made me tense.
And it made me appreciate being single even more....
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I understand in long term relationships - and maybe even in short-term relationships - a certain amount of bickering will occur. Certainly with the long-term ex, we bickered quite a bit, and it worried my ex considerably. In hindsight, perhaps she had a point. But at the time, we began to notice when we spent time around other couples that we weren't the only ones that bickered. That bickering was, perhaps, a price to pay for having someone by your side all the time. That and having someone at your side all the time was the price to pay!
I have recognized in the three years since we parted ways that I have developed certain sensitivities and over-sensitivities from that relationship. When I hear one partner belittling another, it sets the hair on my neck to high alert. When one is being disrespectful of another, I get anxious. I am very sensitive to the signs that while someone may love another, that love may still not be quite healthy. For either party.
Bickering is bound to happen when you take two (or more) independent people and spirits and try to make them into a single unit. This is true with romantic couples, and true in other social gatherings with a purpose. (Go to any board meeting of any local sports group, charity, parents group, etc, and there's bound to be some bickering in there).
I heard a bit of bickering this weekend - and I listened to the tone of voice. One party seemed prepared to bicker no matter what was said by the other party. And I have been in that position - there's one guy who I don't care what he says, it will annoy me, even if it is how nice I look today. But also the response of the other, or if there was poking or prompting of bickering. Who was escalating, and who was diffusing? If any. And over what were they bickering? Was it something that would actually save twenty minutes in traffic, or was it over something that didn't matter if either or both were right? Such as, "I like salt." "Well, I like pepper". (Bad example, but go with me here.. )
I found this weekend that I really didn't miss bickering. That I really don't like bickering. At one point, I was joking - but really quite serious - from the back seat of the car and told them that the kids don't like it when Mommy and Mommy fight. Even though they weren't "fighting", the tension with their bickering made me tense.
And it made me appreciate being single even more....
-----------------------------
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Thursday, June 14, 2012
What's on your bed?
If you're single, like me, let's face it. Unless we are sleeping in a twin bed, we don't sleep in the whole bed. And so, sometimes, things accumulate where we don't sleep. Yes. We'd like it to be a hot sexy person in that extra space, but since that person isn't HERE, well, we find substitutes don't we.
Typically I fall asleep with my laptop on my bed. I have gotten comfortable enough to know that I won't roll over and knock it off the bed in the middle of the night, and I know how close to the edge I can have it and be safe. So waking up with that next to me, or my phone, isn't so unusual for me. Sometimes my glasses don't quite make it to the nightstand either - although I *do* worry about breaking those. All things not so unusual.
The other morning, I woke up snuggling next to my wallet. I'm not quite sure what that was about, but it happened once more, too.
This morning, all those friends are there - although the wallet was closer to the foot of the bed than in my face staring back at me saying, "Good morning, Sweetie" like it did the last two times. I have an unopened bag of chips that has been there for two nights. I guess it's there just in case of emergency, and there hasn't been a chip emergency yet. My keys are in bed with me - not a usual companion, but there you go. My glasses case also near the foot of the bed, with my sunglasses resting safely inside. Some loose bills, a thank you card for a graduation gift, and of all the stuff, this is the one I'm most ashamed to admit, a Ziploc baggie with the leftover packaging from a roll of cookie dough. There's also an ice pack that I keep for my laptop which tends to run hot, and those laptop fan thingies never seem to help.
Looking around, I see also, that I missed a ball point pen, too. On other occasions, if I have been playing with, um, toys, they'll be here, too, but last night that wasn't the case.
What was the case, clearly, is that when I came home last night, rather than empty my pockets out on to a table, as I usually do (or several tables), I clearly just emptied it out at the foot of the bed, and never moved it.
While I may not make my bed every morning, I usually do clear it off - although the emergency potato chips seem to be a clear exception.
What strange things do you wake up to in bed with you?
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Typically I fall asleep with my laptop on my bed. I have gotten comfortable enough to know that I won't roll over and knock it off the bed in the middle of the night, and I know how close to the edge I can have it and be safe. So waking up with that next to me, or my phone, isn't so unusual for me. Sometimes my glasses don't quite make it to the nightstand either - although I *do* worry about breaking those. All things not so unusual.
The other morning, I woke up snuggling next to my wallet. I'm not quite sure what that was about, but it happened once more, too.
This morning, all those friends are there - although the wallet was closer to the foot of the bed than in my face staring back at me saying, "Good morning, Sweetie" like it did the last two times. I have an unopened bag of chips that has been there for two nights. I guess it's there just in case of emergency, and there hasn't been a chip emergency yet. My keys are in bed with me - not a usual companion, but there you go. My glasses case also near the foot of the bed, with my sunglasses resting safely inside. Some loose bills, a thank you card for a graduation gift, and of all the stuff, this is the one I'm most ashamed to admit, a Ziploc baggie with the leftover packaging from a roll of cookie dough. There's also an ice pack that I keep for my laptop which tends to run hot, and those laptop fan thingies never seem to help.
Looking around, I see also, that I missed a ball point pen, too. On other occasions, if I have been playing with, um, toys, they'll be here, too, but last night that wasn't the case.
What was the case, clearly, is that when I came home last night, rather than empty my pockets out on to a table, as I usually do (or several tables), I clearly just emptied it out at the foot of the bed, and never moved it.
While I may not make my bed every morning, I usually do clear it off - although the emergency potato chips seem to be a clear exception.
What strange things do you wake up to in bed with you?
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Wednesday, June 13, 2012
Married Women Like Breasts...
It's true. I've had a handful of married women* tell me somewhat recently about how much they like breasts (because more than a handful *would* be a waste). It's this pattern that I've noticed, and I must admit, my basic reaction is this: "Good, because I do, too, and by the way, I have two.." (thinking really, completing that sentence, "I have two you can play with...", but I keep that to myself until I have more information...)
I just find it amusing, and so I had to share. I admit that I have tried to use this information with varying success. I hate to admit - because someone will call me on my line - that I have asked more than one of them what it is they like about breasts, hoping that the conversation might take me, er, us somewhere fun. I mean what are you supposed to say to a woman who tells you she likes breasts? It wasn't like below I *asked* them first. It was information that was just volunteered to me - I figure they told me for a reason, right?
So, if there are any other married women out there who want to share with me how much they like breasts, they can be bold and comment below, or even bolder and send me a private e-mail. Just be aware, I might ask you what it is you like so much about them...
* One of them, I do have to admit, is getting divorced, and ideally won't be a married woman much longer, AND, I did know her (in the Biblical sense, yes) as a lesbian before she realized she might actually be bi and got married, so I admit that including her in my pool of married women who like breasts (Ah, doesn't that sound interesting, a pool of married women who like breasts? I'm ready to jump in... ) may be skewing the stats a little.
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I just find it amusing, and so I had to share. I admit that I have tried to use this information with varying success. I hate to admit - because someone will call me on my line - that I have asked more than one of them what it is they like about breasts, hoping that the conversation might take me, er, us somewhere fun. I mean what are you supposed to say to a woman who tells you she likes breasts? It wasn't like below I *asked* them first. It was information that was just volunteered to me - I figure they told me for a reason, right?
So, if there are any other married women out there who want to share with me how much they like breasts, they can be bold and comment below, or even bolder and send me a private e-mail. Just be aware, I might ask you what it is you like so much about them...
* One of them, I do have to admit, is getting divorced, and ideally won't be a married woman much longer, AND, I did know her (in the Biblical sense, yes) as a lesbian before she realized she might actually be bi and got married, so I admit that including her in my pool of married women who like breasts (Ah, doesn't that sound interesting, a pool of married women who like breasts? I'm ready to jump in... ) may be skewing the stats a little.
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Saturday, June 9, 2012
Being Single
So... there are definitely drawbacks to being single. But sometimes, there are perks. Like napping between 6:30 pm to 9:00 pm, and now being awake after midnight, and watching whatever television show I want.
No-one to answer to. No-one to share with. Eat whenever I want. Can eat whatever I want - not have to save it for someone else.
I'm sure there are other benefits, but these are the benes I'm exercising tonight..
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No-one to answer to. No-one to share with. Eat whenever I want. Can eat whatever I want - not have to save it for someone else.
I'm sure there are other benefits, but these are the benes I'm exercising tonight..
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Friday, February 17, 2012
14. I live alone - Part Two
The first time I lived with someone, I moved into her house. I learned from that experience. I learned not to move into someone else's house.
Because guess what? It would always be THEIR house.
By the time I moved out over two years later, I had been having a Virgina Woolfian craving for a room of my own.
We moved all of my stuff to her home, but 98% of it went into a storage area next to the garage. I understand it takes time to assimilate, but it took me a year to realize that the only item of size of mine that had made it into the house was my bed and only because she had been sleeping on a futon before I moved in. Everything else in the house, and on the book shelves, was hers. Even most of the things in the closet were hers. The dresser was primarily hers - I think I got a couple of drawers, but not much.
I knew, rationally, it wasn't personal. And I knew, too, that it DID reflect the state of the relationship, hence the reason it didn't last that long. She was trying to share her space, but it had been HER space for so long before I got there, and remained HER space for much longer after I was gone.
And really the reason I had moved in was because we had commenced a geographically undesireable relationship. (Another pattern, another post later). Where I had been living when we met was about ten miles from work. Where she lived was about ten miles from where I lived. It wasn't in the opposite direction, fortunately, but the plot points between my apartment, her house and work formed a nice triangle. And because she had dogs, and worked from home, it was much more convenient for both of us for me to go to her house in the evenings. So, after a month or so where I hadn't been home, it seemed silly to continue paying rent there. And made much more sense - to her - for me to help pay the mortgage.
(BTW, my apartment room-mate still to this day says I was the best room-mate ever. Because she never saw me, and I never was there to make a mess)
I decided, moving forward and moving out of her home, that the next time I chose to live with another woman, that we would have to find a place of our own. That both of us shaped and created and discovered our space in. And in my next relationship, I did just that. And it worked! We both felt ownership and both felt at home where we lived. We both had space and space together.
I don't know what will happen when I next fall in love with someone who lives or wants to live in the same place as I do. I may choose to continue to live alone, or I may throw it all out the window. But I enjoy having my own space. I enjoy living alone.
Now, if only I had someone to share that with!
Because guess what? It would always be THEIR house.
By the time I moved out over two years later, I had been having a Virgina Woolfian craving for a room of my own.
We moved all of my stuff to her home, but 98% of it went into a storage area next to the garage. I understand it takes time to assimilate, but it took me a year to realize that the only item of size of mine that had made it into the house was my bed and only because she had been sleeping on a futon before I moved in. Everything else in the house, and on the book shelves, was hers. Even most of the things in the closet were hers. The dresser was primarily hers - I think I got a couple of drawers, but not much.
I knew, rationally, it wasn't personal. And I knew, too, that it DID reflect the state of the relationship, hence the reason it didn't last that long. She was trying to share her space, but it had been HER space for so long before I got there, and remained HER space for much longer after I was gone.
And really the reason I had moved in was because we had commenced a geographically undesireable relationship. (Another pattern, another post later). Where I had been living when we met was about ten miles from work. Where she lived was about ten miles from where I lived. It wasn't in the opposite direction, fortunately, but the plot points between my apartment, her house and work formed a nice triangle. And because she had dogs, and worked from home, it was much more convenient for both of us for me to go to her house in the evenings. So, after a month or so where I hadn't been home, it seemed silly to continue paying rent there. And made much more sense - to her - for me to help pay the mortgage.
(BTW, my apartment room-mate still to this day says I was the best room-mate ever. Because she never saw me, and I never was there to make a mess)
I decided, moving forward and moving out of her home, that the next time I chose to live with another woman, that we would have to find a place of our own. That both of us shaped and created and discovered our space in. And in my next relationship, I did just that. And it worked! We both felt ownership and both felt at home where we lived. We both had space and space together.
I don't know what will happen when I next fall in love with someone who lives or wants to live in the same place as I do. I may choose to continue to live alone, or I may throw it all out the window. But I enjoy having my own space. I enjoy living alone.
Now, if only I had someone to share that with!
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Snoozin'
I work several "jobs". A couple are for pay and a couple are volunteer. Currently, only one requires me to punch a time clock, and that's a night job.
Personally, I tell myself that I prefer it that way. I like having control of my own schedule and the flexibility to make the commitments I want when I want without having to clear them with anyone else. Being single helps with this, too.
But I'm not sure, particularly with my ADD, it is always what is best for me.
They say with ADD that structure is important. Habits are important to make sure you have that structure and you get the things done you need to do on a regular basis.
Without them, adrenaline and deadlines are usually the strongest motivators. Usually if something can be done tomorrow or next week, then I often feel content to leave it until tomorrow or next week. It isn't that I am lazy, I just logically don't see the need to rush. Not always, but frequently enough. It's the "joy" of ADD, and it frustrates the hell out of those around me sometimes.
Did I mention I was single? Did I mention that my ADD was diagnosed in the context of being in a relationship? Um, yeah.
All of this introduction because last night I decided that I did not need to go to my contract site to work today, that I would work from home. And as I went to sleep last night (earlier than usual, even) I gave myself a stern lecture / made a pact that I wouldwake up at the usual time - actually that's wrong. I always wake up at the usual time. I love living without an alarm clock. The pact was that I would GET OUT OF BED when I woke up. At a reasonable hour.
Even though I don't need an alarm to wake up, I do sometimes need an alarm in the morning to remind me that time is getting away from me. That and an old trick from being a kid to find my watch I always lost. I have learned that if something is small and has the possibility of being lost, it's a good idea to have a daily alarm on it so at least once a day there's noise by which to find it. So on my iPhone I have a daily alarm that goes off at 8:57 AM. This is a good hour after I naturally wake up, and sometimes even longer than that.
So, I woke up this morning at first around 7:15 AM. That was nice. I still have time to sleep - I was projecting getting out of bed closer to around 8 AM when I usually wake up. So I went back to sleep. My dream was kind of intriguing (I have some of the strangest and coolest dreams that I have lately began keeping a dream journal) and so down I went. Woke up again closer to 8 AM, as usual.
A small voice said, "Okay, now, we talked about this. You are going to get out of bed. Just because you're staying home doesn't mean you get to be unproductive." Well, actually, it was to myself, so all I really said was "Okay, now.." The rest was implied.
It's not even quite yet 8, I argued back. Needless to say, I won. And back to snoozin' sleep I went.
I'm not sure how many times we had this half-hearted conversation. But some geeky math person could provide me with a minimum. I finally got out of bed about twenty minutes ago, and it is now 10:15 AM. The iPhone alarm snooze goes off every nine minutes. And add a couple extra "discussions" between 8 and 8:57 AM, and well, you get the idea.
I've never been a jump out of bed kinda girl unless I had some place to be. Fortunately the woman I lived with for over ten years didn't seem to mind the snooze button, even though she was the type to jump out of bed (often forgetting to give me a morning snuggle and kiss, what was up with that?) and get going. She had the energizer bunny inside of her - but that's a whole other story.
When I have to be somewhere, I can get out of bed. Or, at least, I could. These days I try not to schedule anything too early so I don't have to test that out, but I used to live on the West Coast in one of those jobs that foolishly was tied partly to East Coast time, and I used to be at work by 6:30 AM, and out of the house by 5:45 AM. I can do it. Well, I did it. You notice, I don't work that job now. And that I moved back to East Coast time, so it isn't as much of an issue.
In the light of morning, I recognize that not using an alarm, waking up naturally, scheduling things later in the morning if I have to schedule anything (I have very little that I have to schedule) is my way of rolling with my ADD.
I was too sleepy to create that understanding / argument this morning, but tomorrow, we'll see if I tell myself "Roll with it" next time I hit the snooze button.
Resistance is futile.
Personally, I tell myself that I prefer it that way. I like having control of my own schedule and the flexibility to make the commitments I want when I want without having to clear them with anyone else. Being single helps with this, too.
But I'm not sure, particularly with my ADD, it is always what is best for me.
They say with ADD that structure is important. Habits are important to make sure you have that structure and you get the things done you need to do on a regular basis.
Without them, adrenaline and deadlines are usually the strongest motivators. Usually if something can be done tomorrow or next week, then I often feel content to leave it until tomorrow or next week. It isn't that I am lazy, I just logically don't see the need to rush. Not always, but frequently enough. It's the "joy" of ADD, and it frustrates the hell out of those around me sometimes.
Did I mention I was single? Did I mention that my ADD was diagnosed in the context of being in a relationship? Um, yeah.
All of this introduction because last night I decided that I did not need to go to my contract site to work today, that I would work from home. And as I went to sleep last night (earlier than usual, even) I gave myself a stern lecture / made a pact that I would
Even though I don't need an alarm to wake up, I do sometimes need an alarm in the morning to remind me that time is getting away from me. That and an old trick from being a kid to find my watch I always lost. I have learned that if something is small and has the possibility of being lost, it's a good idea to have a daily alarm on it so at least once a day there's noise by which to find it. So on my iPhone I have a daily alarm that goes off at 8:57 AM. This is a good hour after I naturally wake up, and sometimes even longer than that.
So, I woke up this morning at first around 7:15 AM. That was nice. I still have time to sleep - I was projecting getting out of bed closer to around 8 AM when I usually wake up. So I went back to sleep. My dream was kind of intriguing (I have some of the strangest and coolest dreams that I have lately began keeping a dream journal) and so down I went. Woke up again closer to 8 AM, as usual.
A small voice said, "Okay, now, we talked about this. You are going to get out of bed. Just because you're staying home doesn't mean you get to be unproductive." Well, actually, it was to myself, so all I really said was "Okay, now.." The rest was implied.
It's not even quite yet 8, I argued back. Needless to say, I won. And back to snoozin' sleep I went.
I'm not sure how many times we had this half-hearted conversation. But some geeky math person could provide me with a minimum. I finally got out of bed about twenty minutes ago, and it is now 10:15 AM. The iPhone alarm snooze goes off every nine minutes. And add a couple extra "discussions" between 8 and 8:57 AM, and well, you get the idea.
I've never been a jump out of bed kinda girl unless I had some place to be. Fortunately the woman I lived with for over ten years didn't seem to mind the snooze button, even though she was the type to jump out of bed (often forgetting to give me a morning snuggle and kiss, what was up with that?) and get going. She had the energizer bunny inside of her - but that's a whole other story.
When I have to be somewhere, I can get out of bed. Or, at least, I could. These days I try not to schedule anything too early so I don't have to test that out, but I used to live on the West Coast in one of those jobs that foolishly was tied partly to East Coast time, and I used to be at work by 6:30 AM, and out of the house by 5:45 AM. I can do it. Well, I did it. You notice, I don't work that job now. And that I moved back to East Coast time, so it isn't as much of an issue.
In the light of morning, I recognize that not using an alarm, waking up naturally, scheduling things later in the morning if I have to schedule anything (I have very little that I have to schedule) is my way of rolling with my ADD.
I was too sleepy to create that understanding / argument this morning, but tomorrow, we'll see if I tell myself "Roll with it" next time I hit the snooze button.
Resistance is futile.
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
21. I have / am ADD
I bring this up to you not only to tell you another little factlet about myself, but also to warn you that I am already getting bored talking only about myself.
Which really actually minimizes the issue of my ADD.
And my ADD is a big issue.
If I were able to manually make those tags various sizes, I'd make the ADD tag pretty big. I know I can manipulate it, but I won't.
I was not diagnosed as a kid. And this was for many reasons. First, it wasn't the catch-all diagnosis for energetic kids that it seems to be used for today. I do think that the way we operate as a society actually creates ADD, or at least ADD symptoms, in folks. But that's a whole other entry for another day. Second, I was smart enough to pass. While it clearly, particularly in hindsight, hampered me from "reaching [my] full potential" as so many teachers might have written, I was doing well enough that they didn't waste a lot of time getting me there.
I don't mean to say my teachers or parents didn't care. Fighting ADD - either yourself or in others - is like rolling a boulder up hill. If you don't continually apply your efforts, that boulder gets heavy and starts rolling back down hill. It is a continuous ongoing process.
Or that's my understanding of it based on my experience. Right now I feel like I'm sitting at the bottom of the hill leaning up against that boulder and trying to figure out whether it's worth pushing anymore.
Except I like the view higher up. I like it when I reach my potential. I get frustrated by these invisible walls I keep hitting up against.
Ironically, I was diagnosed as ADD not through an academic or a professional setting or situation, but through a relationship. So this "disorder" not only holds me back academically, or professionally, but even raises its ugly, ugly head in my intimate relationships. Lovely.
So, here I sit by the boulder at the bottom of the hill trying to figure out what to do. I'm single (see #4). And I contemplate the traditional definition of insanity. Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.
I do welcome feedback on this area. And I'm sure I'll talk about it much more and make that tag on the side bigger and bigger over time. I have tried a variety of methods to attack this, and it may simply be I haven't found the right combination. Again, make comments below publicly, or feel free to send them privately by e-mail to theborgblog@gmail.com.
ADDENDUM - JULY 20, 2012
As of today, this blog post has had the most views of any of my posts, and yet no feedback, whatsoever. Please take a moment and leave me a comment to tell me what you were looking for when you came here. This and my other ADD posts seem to have an independent popularity, and yet, I don't know who this audience is, why you are coming, and what you are looking for - and even more, if I'm serving it. Having ADD is hard - and knowing you are not alone is important. Please, comment below and reassure me that I'm not alone. Thank you!
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Which really actually minimizes the issue of my ADD.
And my ADD is a big issue.
If I were able to manually make those tags various sizes, I'd make the ADD tag pretty big. I know I can manipulate it, but I won't.
I was not diagnosed as a kid. And this was for many reasons. First, it wasn't the catch-all diagnosis for energetic kids that it seems to be used for today. I do think that the way we operate as a society actually creates ADD, or at least ADD symptoms, in folks. But that's a whole other entry for another day. Second, I was smart enough to pass. While it clearly, particularly in hindsight, hampered me from "reaching [my] full potential" as so many teachers might have written, I was doing well enough that they didn't waste a lot of time getting me there.
I don't mean to say my teachers or parents didn't care. Fighting ADD - either yourself or in others - is like rolling a boulder up hill. If you don't continually apply your efforts, that boulder gets heavy and starts rolling back down hill. It is a continuous ongoing process.
Or that's my understanding of it based on my experience. Right now I feel like I'm sitting at the bottom of the hill leaning up against that boulder and trying to figure out whether it's worth pushing anymore.
Except I like the view higher up. I like it when I reach my potential. I get frustrated by these invisible walls I keep hitting up against.
Ironically, I was diagnosed as ADD not through an academic or a professional setting or situation, but through a relationship. So this "disorder" not only holds me back academically, or professionally, but even raises its ugly, ugly head in my intimate relationships. Lovely.
So, here I sit by the boulder at the bottom of the hill trying to figure out what to do. I'm single (see #4). And I contemplate the traditional definition of insanity. Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.
I do welcome feedback on this area. And I'm sure I'll talk about it much more and make that tag on the side bigger and bigger over time. I have tried a variety of methods to attack this, and it may simply be I haven't found the right combination. Again, make comments below publicly, or feel free to send them privately by e-mail to theborgblog@gmail.com.
ADDENDUM - JULY 20, 2012
As of today, this blog post has had the most views of any of my posts, and yet no feedback, whatsoever. Please take a moment and leave me a comment to tell me what you were looking for when you came here. This and my other ADD posts seem to have an independent popularity, and yet, I don't know who this audience is, why you are coming, and what you are looking for - and even more, if I'm serving it. Having ADD is hard - and knowing you are not alone is important. Please, comment below and reassure me that I'm not alone. Thank you!
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If you like this, stick around and read other entries. Hit a few on the right that are favorites, or go to the home page of the blog, and read from beginning to end. Take a moment to send me some feedback. Thanks for coming. Please come back soon.
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