My mind feels like a Cuisinart where somebody just dumped all the thoughts in at once

Specifically, the food processor. I don’t think the coffee maker would come up with quite the same results.

I’ve had a lot of jumbled thoughts lately, combined with crazy dreams, and it’s making me just a bit screwier than I normally am.

The two things that I keep circling back to are absolutely no relationship to each other that I can think of, yet they keep coming back and nagging me to write them out. I’ll start with the nice one.

Part of a parent’s job is to screw up their kid(s). It’s usually not intentional, but it happens. There are so many things I wish my parents had discussed with me or taught me when I was a kid, because I had to figure them out on my own, and sometimes those lessons are devastatingly difficult. Following is a list of things I wish teenage me had been told (and a few things that I’d like to think that my teenage daughter is learning, that didn’t really apply all those years ago for me.)

  • Learn how to create a budget and stick to it. Save up for big purchases and learn how to cut out all the extra bullshit you don’t need so that you have some savings to fall back on when things turn to shit (and they always do at some point). Financing is okay on big purchases like a house or a car, but credit cards shouldn’t be used for everyday purchases unless you’re paying off your balance every month. Don’t spend money you don’t have in hand.
  • Figure out what you want to be when you grow up, and develop a plan to achieve it. It’s okay if your plans change down the road, as long as you keep following the plans to get there. You don’t want to wake up at 40 and realize that your life is half over and you haven’t accomplished anything and you don’t know where to start.
  • Don’t be afraid to be different. Different is good. If everyone liked the same thing, the world would be a very boring place. Flaunt the things that make you special, even if no one else gets it. The caveat to that is: don’t disparage or denigrate things that are different that you don’t like. I see this a lot in the car world. Some people like stanced cars, others like brodozers. Some people get giddy over bone-stock 40-year-old pickup trucks, others prefer brightly coloured supercars. They’re all great. They may not be your style, but someone put a lot of time, love, and money into a car they love, and that should be appreciated, even if it’s not to your taste.
  • Pay attention to the people you see on a daily basis, and learn their names if you’re going to interact with them regularly. I’ve worked at customer service and retail for nearly 25 years, and it’s still kind of shocking to me how invisible I am. They’re people too. Sometimes they have stuff going on in their lives that you don’t know about, that may be affecting their behaviour. Give them the benefit of the doubt instead of assuming they’re being assholes. Unless they’re like that on a regular basis, in which case they may legitimately be assholes.
  • Make sure you have at least one friend (or preferably two or three) who are actual friends, who would do anything for you. Quality is much more important than quantity when it comes to friends. I see people on Facebook with 600+ friends and I wonder how many of those “friends” are people they even know. A good friend is someone who can pick up on the fact that you’re having a bad day without you having to say a single word, and who shows up at your door at 10pm bearing Ben & Jerry’s (or marshmallows). Treasure those people, because they’re the ones who will still be by your side when everything turns to shit.
  • When you’re on a date, leave the mobile phone in your pocket or purse. Same goes for gatherings with good friends. Unless you are an on-call doctor or other bigwig who needs to be reached 24/7 for a life or death matter, ignore your phone. This has always been one of my biggest pet peeves on dates. If he’s more interested in whatever’s on that screen than me, then obviously I’m not important enough, and I’m moving on. Technology is wonderful, and helps us in so many ways, but it’s also disconnecting us from the real world.
  • What goes on the internet, stays on the internet. Yes, you can pull down that embarrassing photo, but someone may have caught a screenshot, and from there, it’s out of your control as to where it may end up. Do you really want that photo of you doing a kegstand coming across the desk of your potential new boss? Probably not. Are you really fed up with your job and want to spew a hate-filled angry message about how horrible your coworkers and boss are? Chances are good – even with tightened security – that it can still be outed publicly and then you’re not only out of a job, but you’re going to have a hard time replacing it again.
  • You only get one first, so make sure it’s special. Whether it’s a first date, a first kiss, a first new car. You don’t get a do-over on firsts, so make sure it means something.
  • Don’t play games with people’s emotions. You may think something is funny, but it may devastate someone else. Try to always be kind if given the choice.
  • When it comes to dating, look at how he or she treats his or her parents and the waitstaff. Disrespect to either means that the disrespect will probably be turned towards you someday, too. Knowing their views on treating animals is pretty telling also. Anyone who kicks a dog will have no problem punching a person later. (Ask me how I know)
  • Always ask for help when you need it. Everyone needs help at some point in their life, whether it’s tutoring in algebra or learning how to change a tire. Asking for help isn’t a sign of weakness, it’s a sign that you’re strong enough to know your limitations.
  • Cut the toxic people out of your life. You know who they are? The ones who always cut you down or undermine any plans you have. They serve no purpose, except to try to destroy you. Don’t let them. You only get one shot at life; try to make it a good one.
  • Know that sometimes life is just plain going to suck, but crying helps. So do marshmallows. When things go wrong, try to fix things up as best you can, and then start over the next day and try again. Keep doing this until things get better. There’s a cliché that says “Everything is better in the end. If it’s not better, it’s not the end.” It’s kind of true. Keep trying anyway.

That ran a little longer than I expected, and I’m sure I have more things I’d like to add to my list, but those will have to wait, along with the other random thought running rampant in my head, which is a rant on political correctness. I’ll try to get to that one later this week, if I don’t get too insanely busy. I’d be interested to hear what others would advise their younger selves if given the chance.

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I am covered in moss – not literally

If a rolling stone gathers no moss, I am covered in moss. I’ve spent the last 15 months doing a whole lotta nothing, and it sucks. My knee is worse now than it was when I originally hurt it in September 2012 and I don’t see any sign of it being repaired any time soon. Every day I faithfully check the mailbox to see if I’ve received a determination from the state, and every day the mailbox mocks me with its emptiness.

So, time to do something different. Waiting impatiently isn’t helping me at all, so I need to find some sort of action. I crochet a lot, and post items for sale on my etsy page, but I’m certainly never going to make a living at it. I can’t do any type of meaningful work because I’m on disability, so I can’t earn any income or they’ll look at it as worker’s comp fraud. That assumes I would even be able to do a real job, considering that I need to keep my knee iced and elevated at almost all times or it locks up and gets very painful.

I’ve frequently been told I’m a good writer. People have said that they enjoy my writing style and like reading my posts and short stories, so I’m going to attempt a book. The only thing that’s been stopping me is the starting. I have nothing else going on in my life, so why not spend those useless hours pouring forth my soul in word form and see what happens. Even if I never get published, at least I can say I wrote a book once. Who knows, maybe it will even be good?

100 Days of Happiness, parts 7 – ….

I’ve been negligent in posting updates on here, as so much has been going on in my life. On Monday, July 28, I will have completed 100 days of noticing at least one something a day that made me happy. Most of them are not big things, many of them are things I wouldn’t have even noticed if I hadn’t been looking for them. That’s what made this whole project so much fun. Will I continue it? I’m not sure. It’s been a very rough year for me so far, with more bad things than good, but I’ve managed to at least stay on an even keel for most of it. I’ve only had a few times where I’ve sunk into a depression, and I was generally able to pull myself out fairly quickly. So, keep an eye out, and sometime next week, I will post the entire 100 days list.

I decided to mix up the theme on my blog

So much has changed in my life lately, I figured a new look on the blog would be good. Opinions welcome.

Posted from WordPress for Android

100 Days of Happiness, part 4

Day 22 – Sunday 5/11 = Mimosas & mother’s day. When I had asked my mom what she wanted for mother’s day, she very adamantly replied that she didn’t want anything. No brunch, no shopping, no movies, nothing. So, I figured I’d give her what she wanted and leave her alone. To that end, I went to my sweet friend’s house where he mixed up mimosas for us, and then we watched TV and generally relaxed. It was a nice stress-free day.


Day 23 – Monday 5/12 = free coffee. There is a gas station near my house that brews excellent coffee, and the owner refuses to let me pay for my drinks. It’s such a minor thing, and yet, it means so much.


Day 24 – Tuesday 5/13 = great conversation with my neighbor. I caught up with my neighbor regarding everything that’s going on in our lives. It was just a wonderful conversation full of jokes and laughter, which helped ease my mind regarding my surgery.


Day 25 – Wednesday 5/14 = surgery is done. And speaking of… my surgery is over with. Unfortunately, it didn’t go as smoothly as was planned. We were expecting a torn meniscus, but instead, it turns out that the condyle (the bumpy part at the top of the tibia) has been grinding down and is seriously fractured instead of nice and smooth. The doctor did scrape it down and clean it up, so hopefully I’ll get some new cartilage growing in, and won’t have to worry about a bigger surgery any time soon.


Day 26 – Thursday 5/15 = mint chip ice cream. We’ve had a nasty heat wave for the past several days, with temperatures either just at or over 100°F. That’s absolutely miserable when you have your leg wrapped from mid-thigh to foot, living on a second story where heat rises, and no air conditioning. Thankfully, my mom was nice enough to buy me some mint chocolate chip ice cream to help cool me down, as well as to soothe my throat from the intubation part of the anaesthesia process.


Day 27 – Friday 5/16 = catching up on sleep. I think I must have spent a good 12 hours sleeping throughout the day. I was so worn out from the surgery still, and the heat wasn’t helping. Getting some extra sleep definitely helped improve my outlook on whatever is coming next in my life. 


Day 28 – Saturday 5/17 = playing with kittens. We had another big cat/kitten adoption fair today, and I was able to shadow one of our adoption counselors, so that I could learn more about what it takes to become a full-fledged adoption counselor. It was also nice getting to meet many of my fellow volunteers that I’ve exchanged emails with regularly, but never met in person.

100 Days of Happiness, part 3

Day 15, Sunday 5/4 – Baby Milo = I drove up to Carlsbad to pick up a kitten that was going into foster care. Little did I know when I agreed that I would do this that the kitten was only 13 days old. He looks nearly identical to my former baby Milo, right down to the spotted patches on his sides. The differences between them are that his white stripe goes higher up his forehead and he has bright blue eyes instead of green. I handed him off to his new foster mom and she asked if he had a name yet. I told her that he looked just like my former baby Milo, and she said that it sounded like a perfect name for the little guy. Sweet Moo, I still miss you, but I’m glad there’s another Milo to carry on your handsome looks. I hope he inherits your laid back disposition, too.


Day 16, Monday 5/5 – cooler weather = After days of mid-90° w

eather, we finally had a break and dropped back into the mid- to upper-80s. 


Day 17, Tuesday 5/6 – long nap = Nothing feels better than a nice long nap after an especially hard day at work


Day 18, Wednesday 5/7 – May Gray = I had been asking where our traditional May Gray had been this year, as it had so far been absent. Today was the first day that we had the lovely overcast and foggy morning, leading to perfect blue skies by afternoon

Day 19, Thursday 5/8 – draft day = Yes, I’m a football fan. I’ve been anxiously awaiting this year’s draft, because there were more overrated players than underrated, and I wanted to see how they did. I was happy about some of the placements, and disappointed that a few others didn’t get drafted sooner. Such is life.


Day 20, Friday 5/9 – worker’s comp leave = I am officially out of work on worker’s comp disability until further notice. I don’t know how long it will last, but I’ll enjoy it while it does.


Day 21, Saturday 5/10 – Lions, tigers, & bears (oh my!) = I was honored to be invited to the annual fundraiser at Lions, Tigers, & Bears in Jacumba. We’re talking big money fundraiser here. I was invited by the founder of the Rescue House, the cat rescue organization I volunteer for, which really surprised me. There are over 300 volunteers in the organization, and she selected me as one of only 8 available tickets.

Women should have curves

I’m so tired of magazines and television shows and advertisements everywhere that show these super skinny, unrealistic looking models. I’m “healthy.” If you were going to lump me on one of the various scales that are used to measure weight ratios, I’m somewhere between the high range of healthy & the low range of overweight.

That’s ridiculously stupid. I’m 5’5″ tall and weigh 145 pounds right now. I will admit that I’m carrying about 20 pounds more than normal because of my knee injury and not being able to exercise. I still fit into a size 4 pair of jeans. How is that even remotely considered overweight?

I am so thankful that I don’t have a daughter that I would have to explain body image to. I know that I have a touch of body dismorphia. I think I look fatter than I actually am. It must not be that bad though, because the man in my life thinks I look just fine.

I will never again have a 22″waist like I had in high school, and I will never have a thigh gap, but I like having curves because it’s a touch of femininity in a woman who generally is more of a tomboy and prefers hanging out with the guys.

100 Days of Happiness, part 2

Day 8 – Sunday 4/27 = Family. My mom, sister, brother, and I went out to brunch at The Red Door and had a wonderful time just enjoying great food and each others’ company. It was a bonus that we had an awesome waiter who kept joking and laughing with us the entire time we were there. If you’re ever in San Diego, I highly recommend going!

Day 8 Bonus = My sweet friend washed and shined up my car for me. I park outdoors, so he gets dirty from the pine trees and eucalyptus bark falling down. I love seeing my car gleaming.

Day 9 – Monday 4/28 = Je parle français! (Really badly) I had a customer compliment me on my “perfect Parisian accent” when on a call. Her English was much better than my French, but combined, we got through the call and she was full of praise on how I sound native.

Day 10- Tuesday 4/29 = Fetching kitten. I taught our rescue kitten the commands for “fetch,” “sit,” and “lay down.” She’s not perfect, but she gets them right most of the time. I’m still working on it. Who says a cat can’t be trained?

Day 11 – Wednesday 4/30 = The windstorm. This is one of those things that makes me happy, but also really scares me. I love the Santa Ana winds blowing because it feels so nice to have the wind whipping around, but it also scares me because they often precede a firestorm. We’ve been in a bad drought situation for a while now, and overdue for a big fire.

Day 12 – Thursday 5/1 = Chocolate cake. We celebrated April birthdays at work with chocolate cake. I only had a little bit, because I’m trying to watch my caloric intake until post-surgery when I can actually exercise again and hopefully drop some pounds.

Day 13 – Friday 5/2 = Easter flowers. Yes, Easter has passed, but I love seeing all the flowers around because they’re so pretty and brighten up everything around them.

Day 14 – Saturday 5/3 = Helpful salesmen. I love the AutoZone by my house. Every time I go in there, they offer help, but don’t act condescending to me just because I’m female. I can talk cars with them and they always treat me as an equal there instead of  acting like they know way more about cars than I do (although they may) unlike one of their competitors (whose name starts with N) who always tried to make me feel like I had no clue what I was talking about.

Two weeks until my surgery, and I’m starting to freak out a bit

I know this isn’t a major surgery and that thousands of arthroscopic surgeries are done every single day with no problems, but that isn’t preventing me from feeling panicky and completely stressed out. I’m sure I’m over-thinking everything, but because I don’t know exactly how things are going to work, it bothers me. I’m a control freak. I like knowing things, especially when those things include cutting holes in my body. I’m trying to increase my meditation and I’m doing as much yoga as I can to try to relax my mind and body so I don’t feel like I’m going mental, but it’s not helping. Deep breaths…

Breaking down walls

I’ve spent a good part of my life building walls around myself, to keep people out. I think everyone does that to some extent, but some people build better walls than others. One of my biggest problems is that I feel too much. I don’t know if it correlates to my issues with depression and panic disorder or if it’s a separate issue. All I know is that everything from a misspoken word to an unintentional act can cut me like a knife and make me bleed internally. So,  I build walls. I hide behind them and try to pretend that I have a good life, doing things that make me happy. Sometimes that’s true, sometimes it isn’t.

The first wall I consciously know that I built was to protect myself from my father. He was not physically or verbally abusive towards me, I just didn’t matter to him. I was always the quiet one because my sister was always so boisterous and always had a group of friends around. Anything she asked for, he gave her. If she wanted to go out with friends on Friday nights, she was allowed to. I was given books and told to stay in my room and not bother him. I tried to be a good daughter and offered to help him with projects like working on cars and repairing things around the house, and he’d let me, but I never got a thank you for my help and I never felt like I was appreciated for my contribution. After my parents’ divorce, he started dating and I started baking as a way to pass the time because I hated being alone in the house by myself every Friday night while my sister was out with friends and my father was out doing whatever he was doing to find a new wife. I told myself that it was okay that I was alone, because it gave me the freedom to experiment with baking recipes, but honestly, I’d rather have spent the time doing something with my father. Every time one of my friends mentions that their daughter was going to a father/daughter dance, it made me wonder if I just wasn’t good enough for my father to go to a dance with me. So, up went a wall; one that I could hide behind and convince myself that I didn’t need my father in my life.

I built a wall to shut out my mom as well. Soon after the divorce, my mom went back to school and got a job to help support us. I don’t begrudge her that. Then, she decided to go to law school. All of a sudden, every spare moment of the day was spent with her nose in a law-book, studying whatever courses she was taking that semester. I never had that caring mom who helped me with my homework or talked to me about boys or taught me how to create a budget and balance a checkbook. I figured if she didn’t have time for me, then I didn’t want to make time for her. Instead, I started making sure that dinner would be ready when my mom and sister got home, and struggled through my homework as best I could without help. Of course my sister wouldn’t help me because she was older and had more important things to than to help her stupid little sister.

As I got older, I built more and more walls to hide behind. I created a persona in high school that allowed me to get by relatively unscathed and mostly (I thought) unnoticed by the majority of classmates. I was never the top of the class, but I was never at the bottom. I was never in the popular clique, but I wasn’t outcast. I just existed. At the time, I harbored the dream of going away to a college out-of-state, earning a degree, and beginning a new life away from everyone who knew me. That dream came crashing down three weeks before college was scheduled to begin when my father told me that he decided that he couldn’t afford to pay for my college, and it wouldn’t be fair to my sister, since she was only attending community college. So, instead, I also enrolled in community college and passed three unmemorable years there without making a single friend or feeling like I had actually learned anything.

It was around this time that my depression started. At first, it was just dysthemya. Chronic, long-term, mild depression. I had several bad experiences in high school that may have triggered it, or it may have just developed on its own. I don’t know, and I don’t have the self-will to examine it any closer. I learned to live with it, because I had no one to talk to or share my problems with. Eventually, it morphed into the panic disorder, which I still have, and eventually into full-blown Major Depressive Disorder. Any time I tried to talk about it, I was told that it was all in my head and that I just needed to snap out of it and be happy. The depression would go away if I let it. I was accused of being an attention seeker, trying to get people to feel sorry for myself with my mood swings and crying jags. In reality, I needed someone to explain to me that depression is a disease, just like cancer or Parkinson’s. Some people eventually get past it with the right combination of therapy and medication, and others don’t. So far, I seem to fall into the “don’t” column.

I was terribly ashamed to ever admit that I had depression or panic disorder, so I always blew it off as just having a bad day. I didn’t want to be seen as weak or helpless. I just wanted to be a normal person with the occasional bad day. There was a new wall around me, to keep my true feelings to myself so that no one could make fun of my weakness. That was a good wall. The people who knew me best never realized I had any problems, and I never shared my scarred life history with them. I was just another slightly strange person who never quite became friends with anyone.

Then one day I decided I was tired of hiding behind my walls. I decided that I wasn’t going to be stigmatized for my mental illness. It’s not contagious, so explaining it to others wasn’t going to cause an epidemic of new sufferers. I slowly started talking about my issues to people who seemed to care, and I found out that the people who are my true friends don’t care that I am not perfect. They see my flaws as making me unique, not broken. That’s  not to say that there aren’t still times when I hurriedly put the walls back up and hide behind them when everything is going wrong, but I’m getting better. I still won’t talk about certain events in my life that have shaped part of who I am, but maybe someday I’ll be able to do that. In the meantime, I’ll work on tearing down my walls and sharing my hurts and pains, explaining what depression and panic disorder is actually like to people who ask, and trying to be accepted for being me.

It’s taken 39 years, but I’ve discovered that I like me, cracks and all. I’ll never be a completely whole person, and I’ll never be able to guarantee that I won’t slip back into the major depression that causes me to curl up in bed for days at a time, crying for no reason. I’ll still have panic attacks for no known reason, but it’s okay. It’s just part of who I am.

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