"I have two words for you: Therapy!"

I feel better today, I think. I'm plugged into Nathaniel Rateliff and the Night Sweats which is new to me and yet also very familiar. I love it! It's been good to tune out all the extraneous noise and listen to music; it seems to help me concentrate. Though, admittedly, having to remove my ear buds every time something comes up (which is often) is kind of annoying. But, it is what it is.

Girl-child and I had some bonding time last night, which not only put her in a better frame of mind (she's been a grouch lately) it made me feel better, too.  Kid therapy is great!

Speaking of therapy, the next time I see my doctor (which will be April 4th) I think I'm going to talk to him about seeing a therapist. What does he think about that? Does he know anyone he'd recommend? I've talked about this before - and relatively recently - with a friend of mine, who gave me some very sound advice and a direction to pursue, but none of the arrows I followed led anywhere. So I gave up. Now, granted, I didn't try very hard, but I wasn't ready then. I think maybe I am, now.

As a kid in therapy all I really remember is that my therapist used to like to play Chinese Checkers with me. I'm not sure if it was a method of getting me to just talk about stuff while "focusing" on something else or if she just didn't really know what to do with me. But I saw her for about three years and, other than remembering her name, Chinese Checkers, the way her office looked and smelled, I don't remember gleaning any benefit from it.

As a young adult in therapy, I was mortified. I didn't want to share anything that was super personal, and, though I know I was made to go with the hope that therapy would help me, a troubled young person, I was resentful of it. Yeah, I talked about stuff, but I don't think any of it was useful.

As an adult in therapy - which, truthfully, has been very minimal - I had the unfortunate experience of speaking to someone who, essentially, made things worse. She said stuff to me during our first meeting which, on the one hand made me feel like, "YAY! Someone who gets it! Someone who understands!" but on the other hand, didn't actually HELP me in any way. There was no guidance. Simply, cut the cord and be done with it. Forget about it. Move on. You do not feel the way you feel. I spent three sessions with her, and then decided not to go back. After that experience I've been...shall we say...cautious.

But maybe I'm ready now. I just need to find the right person, who also takes my insurance, who won't just say words they think I need to hear, but will tell me when I'm being a dummy, or if I'm on the right track; provide guidance back to the light and provide a helping hand out of the darkness.

Such a person has to exist in my town, don't they?

TTFN
JMS

PS: Post title is a quote from the movie So, I Married an Axe Murderer. It's a comedy. It's funny. You should check it out.

ADD and Fine-Grit Sandpaper

There are days when I'm fine. There are days when I'm not. There are days where I feel like a ping pong ball - bouncing relentlessly between the rubberized paddles of "Fine" and "Not Fine," - blows on each side - wondering which one will win. (That makes me think of an A.A. Milne Poem, Waiting at the Window. And then, after thinking of the A.A. Milne poem, I think of my Grandma Tennie, who instilled in me a love of of poetry and antiques, among other things. Geez - I need to get caffeinated, I'm all over the place today; gotta reign in this ADD. I guess there's a reason this blog is called ...Off on a Tangent.)

Today, I am not fine, and I have no explanation for it. Nothing happened. No one said something. No one did anything. I got enough sleep (I think). But, when someone asks, "How are you?" and you burst into tears for no apparent reason, you're not fine. When that person asks, "Oh my gosh! What's wrong?" and you cannot explain any reason for your tears, you're not fine.

How do you explain something to someone for which you, yourself, have no explanation? You cannot. So therefore you say, "I'm fine," through the tears and walk away leaving the other party very confused. I care, and yet cannot care, about that.

So, today, I will tune out. I will plug my ears into some music (current selection: Turnpike Troubadours - a very recent addition to my beloved collection) which will hopefully act as fine-grit sandpaper and smooth out my rough edges. I will throw myself into my work and pray that when I look up, it will be time to go home and, further, that I am able to say I have have done my job in a manner in which I can be proud.

I will go home to my family.

I will do whatever needs to be done.

Today, I will "Do it anyway."

TTFN
JMS

Forcing myself to think of the good things

I think I mentioned in another post (and probably, if you really dig, several other posts) how I struggle to keep my emotional head above water and to not be so darned negative all the time.  But my negativity is about to rear its ugly head.

WOULD 2016 JUST END ALREADY?  PLEASE?

SHEESH!

Okay.  I've gotten that out of my system.  Feel free to sound off in the comments, too, if you want.  It's an open forum after all, right?

Do I feel better?  Not really.  But in order to make myself feel better, I'm going to say a few things about stuff which has made me feel good this year.  In no particular order, they are:

** Going to see Alice's Restaurant performed live at a local restaurant - by a very talented musician - just before Thanksgiving.  I love that song.  I know every word.  And it brings me joy every time I hear it.  It was especially fun to listen to it performed live.  The artist made it his own without compromising the integrity of Arlo Guthrie's original.  That takes skill!

** And of course, there's Booker T. Jet Black Alley Cat.  I can't neglect to mention him.  He's brought joy and fuzz and snuggles and silliness to our house and I just adore him.  The kids love him, too, so that's awesome.  His "Gotcha" day was Friday, May 13 and he's a black kitty.  He has crossed my path each morning - on the way to the food bowl - and hasn't tripped me up yet.

** Two visits from my father.  The first one, back in March, was after a solid ten year lapse.  It's been an amazing thing to reconnect with him, and to have him get to know his grand kids.  They're totally in love with Grandpa, too, so it's a mutual thing.

** Being part of the Puppet Ministry at church.  It is a fantastic outlet for my Inner Weird Person and so much fun!  Oh, who am I kidding?  I'm just a Weird Person.  No "inner" about it!  But it gives me a chance to use these stupid voices I've made up for a better purpose than just being obnoxious or having fun with my kiddos.

And...I'm done now.  I guess it's kind of a short list, isn't it?  And there have been other things I'm sure I've forgotten about.  Apparently, I have trouble in that regard; allowing the negative (there I go again) to overshadow the positive.  I'm trying.  I really am.  Of course, there are my daily joys of getting to see my kiddos after work and hear about their respective days.  And the joy of looking at my physical surroundings - of East Tennessee - and remembering what a beautiful place this is.

TTFN
JMS

Ten Things I Love Today

In the past 6 months or so, I've started following Ree Drummond's blog, The Pioneer Woman.  She's fun, funny, and uplifting.  She is an animal lover who also has great taste in food and housewares and, probably, tchotchkes.  (I just like that word.)  I'm quite enjoying myself, thank you very much.

Anyway, she posted Ten Things I Love Today, which made me grin like the madwoman I am, only more Cheshire Cat like.  I swear, my cheeks hurt.  Make sure you check out what Ree loves, but in the meantime, here are Ten Things I Love Today.  They may be different than the ten things I will love tomorrow, but I love them - in no particular order - today.

~~ ONE ~~

My kiddos.  Though I suppose I could count them as two, I won't.  They are the absolute lights of my life.  They are my reason for getting up each morning.  They are the reason I work so hard and the reason I know such enormous, all-encompassing love.

~~TWO~~

Hubby.  He's equal parts funny and foolish and fun.  He is half grizzly bear and half honey-loving, tummy-tickling, sweet-voiced Pooh Bear.  (I hope he doesn't smack me for that.)  He's whiskery and wiry and somewhat Sasquatch-like.  He is an excellent daddy and a great outdoors man, though he'd probably disagree with me, and I luv him.

~~THREE~~

Cats.  Their do-it-yourself-no-I-want-to-help-no-leave-me-alone-no-I-want-your-attention-no-wait-maybe-not ways.

~~FOUR~~

Dogs.  Their I-LOVE-YOU-YOU'RE-THE-BEST-THING-I'VE-EVER-SEEN-SINCE-BREAKFAST-OOOH!-BREAKFAST-IS-THAT-A-BALL-SQUIRREL! ways.

~~FIVE~~

Wine.  I admit it - I love a good glass of wine after a long day.  I don't drink every day, though sometimes I might like to.  For the longest time, I preferred an ice-cold white wine.  A Pinot Grigio or a Chardonnay, or even a Riesling when I want something a tad sweeter, but lately reds have been winning.  Not sure where this is going but...wine.

~~SIX~~

Cheese and crackers.  And hummus.  Oh, and maybe pita bread, too.  Ooooh!  Bread in general.  Wait, I got distracted.  What were we talking about again?

~~SEVEN~~

My girls.  Kit and Stacy and Beth and Kasi.  We shall grow old together, make fools of ourselves, and wear hot pink when the dress code clearly said black.  They are the ones who understand me perfectly when the words which come out of my mouth are exactly what they were when they were in my head - with no filter.  And further, they are not offended.

~~EIGHT~~

Music.  Of just about any kind, except the random stuff I don't like.  Nine Inch Nails to Helen Reddy and just about everything in between.  Today, I am singing a medley of tunes from Disney's The Little Mermaid and am perfectly happy with my inner iPod on shuffle.

~~NINE~~

My blankie.  Yes, you heard me right.  I am 40-something years old and I still sleep with a blankie.  My daughter and I sometimes argue over who it really belongs to, but it's mine, I say!  Mine!  It's a thrift-store blankie and it's pink (which is really not my color) but it's soft and reminds me of easier times.  It makes me go, "Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhh....." at the end of a long day.

~~TEN~~

This blog, and the, like, five people who actually read it unless I force them to.  I am not sure if I could function without this blog as an outlet for my weird.  This blog has allowed me to get things off my chest that no one else (except possibly my above-mentioned girls) would listen to or care about.  I love that this is a place where I can legitimately say what is on my mind, know my opinion is my own, and not have any expectations about differences of opinion.

Which I guess brings this post to a close.  My Ten are definitely not as interesting as Ree's Ten, but then we are not the same person and her loves are not my loves, and mine are not hers.  Wait, I think I got confused again.  I'm so glad it's Friday (as I write) and the weekend is upon me.

TTFN
JMS

My random brain strikes again

Busy day.  Here’s what’s currently running around in my head.

My dear son is absorbing the Harry Potter series.  He is now on book five (OOTP) and I cannot tell you how proud I am…on so many levels.

I am trying to understand how Oasis and Coldplay and Goo Goo Dolls fit in with the usual line-up of awesome on Pandora, Depeche Mode Radio.  I am very confused.  While the songs are still good ones, they don’t seem to go with the flow, ya know?

As of 7:00 this evening, I have officially walked (and yes, run just a little bit) over 12,000 steps.  My knees are protesting and the bottoms of my feet scream at me every time I stand up – BUT – I’m already thinking about getting up early and walking around the block before church tomorrow.  I know I’m gonna atrophy overnight so really, getting up at the BCOD to walk seems more like self-preservation rather than punishment.  We’ll have to see how things go in the morning.

TTFN
JMS

Oh, for the love of music!

Like lots of you fine folks out there, I use Pandora for streaming music.  I'm going to say this right up front - I love Pandora!  And further, I am totally stuck on "Depeche Mode Radio" on Pandora.  (Some of you already know this because I haven't shut up about it lately.)

Fair warning, those of you who follow (current or past) that kind of music may vehemently disagree with me here.  I was thinking about something, though. (Who am I kidding?  I'm always thinking about something.)   Depeche Mode, New Order, Erasure, Yazoo (Yaz) - though different, are all one in my head.  Same kind of stuff, I suppose; I love them all.  While I'm at it, I think Billy Joel, Elton John and Rod Stewart are all one in my head.  Where there is one, there are all.  Does that make sense?

Oh! And The Cure! Orchestral Manoeuvres in The Dark!  The Psychedelic Furs!  Pet Shop Boys!  Echo and the Bunnymen!  And...uh...OK - I think you've had enough.  I guess I never realized that I love this stuff as much as I do.

I can't wait to educate my children in all of this this awesomeness!

TTFN
JMS

Humor for the "Unbrained"

I have a coffee mug, given to me by a co-worker.  It’s black and has white lettering which says: “I’m trying to be awesome today, but I’m exhausted from being so freakin’ awesome yesterday.”  I love this mug.  It says so much about me, especially the Morning Me, when I am decaffeinated.  Or, as another co-worker so eloquently put it, “Unbrained.”  Being unbrained is no fun.  And no, we’re not talkin’ zombies, here.

 

Being told that I rock is another thing entirely.  My response to being told today that I rocked was, “Yes.  I occasionally do!  Usually to AC/DC or Metallica.  Just sayin’.”  I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it again: I think I’m hysterical.  On this particular occasion, the party to whom I was speaking took it exactly as it was meant; lighthearted banter.  (We also discovered a mutual appreciation for liverwurst, but that’s another story.)  

 

I began thinking about the strange and wonderful conversations I’ve had that amuse me as much as they amuse others.  It amuses me (there’s that word again) that there are people in this world who just don’t appreciate my particular brand of humor/sarcasm/wit/what-have-you.  (And please, don’t give me the, “Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit,” comment.  That belongs to those who have no sense of humor.  Be gone with you!)  In fact, I’ve even gone back later to re-read stuff I’ve written and have laughed at myself.  One must laugh at oneself.  Often.  Otherwise, there’s something wrong.

 

Um…Jen?  Do you have a point?

 

Nope.  Not really.  I warned you that my blog was random.  I like to write the way that I think – so if you think reading this is bad, with me jumping all over the place from one topic to the next, try being in my head.  I shall quote my beloved Anne of Green Gables: “You ought to give me some credit.  You cannot imagine all the things I want to say and don’t.”

 

TTFN
JMS