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Showing posts from July, 2020

I Am What I Am...

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Apparently, I am a social worker. It is obviously a calling I can no longer deny. Trust me, I have been fighting like hell to stay away from the profession, convinced I am first and foremost not worthy of helping other people figure out their lives, when my own is such a fucking mess.  Cue the plug for all the "Unfuck Yourself" books! No, seriously, those books are EXCELLENT! I decided to go for a degree in psychology in order to work within an organizational structure to bring about changes that would reflect some greater good in society, primarily focused on private schools. Social justice issues impacting everyone need to be brought to the attention of those in elite positions so they can change the trajectory of the "isms" for future generations.  Yes, yes I did sell myself with that last paragraph. It is my go to reasoning for entering I/O psychology. I convinced myself I could get a position as a diversity, inclusion, and equity director and really roll my sle...

Getting Back to It

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I have been out of the workforce for 15 years. It was an active, conscious decision that involved what was best for my family and newborn. What I have come to realize, though, is it wasn't the best decision for me in the long run. Don't get me wrong, I love being a parent and would not trade the time I had with my kid for anything. I just wish I could have enjoyed it while maintaining my individual identity.  There is so much weight in the word identity, isn't there?  We go through life checking little boxes on medical forms, insurance forms, job applications, college admission and private school forms, housing applications, and a myriad of other things that convey how we see ourselves.  We check little boxes related to our racial identity (which is a social construct), our sexual orientation, gender identifiers, ethnicity, relationship status, parental status, medical conditions, employment status, and military service status.  At the end of the day, what does all o...

The Greatest of Danes

I have had some amazing dogs in my life and have been lucky to have most of them teach me a thing or two about being human. Some of them were disobedient toddlers who would never obey a command, but brought humor to my world. Others were the most loyal companions, never leaving my side, always listening, which brought compassion into my life. Still others were obedient and quick learners, able to do every trick in the book eagerly, which taught me discipline. Then there were the greatest of Danes, Atticus and Delilah. They were Fawn colored Great Danes given to me by one of the bikers who frequented the bar I worked in at night, while attending HS during the day. I have no idea what possessed me to say yes to taking them, other than their forlorn faces and my need for company of some kind. So, without thinking, I said "Yes, I will take them." The fortunate part of the story is my apartment at the time was directly across from the HS, which allowed me to dash home and check ...

Boundaries

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In case you missed it, I am going through a growth spurt and discovering there are a few things in my life I need to reexamine. Boundaries are some of those things. What are my boundaries with different people and relationships? How do I decide to set a boundary? Is the boundary negotiable? What happens when a boundary is crossed? Are my boundaries fair to myself and my relationships? I am discovering I have more unanswered questions about the topic than I have answers. So, I picked up another book by Faith Harper , PhD to supplement the work I am doing with my amazing therapist. It has been helpful in a couple of ways. First, boundaries are not bad. There are a fucking dozen reasons why I have them in my life and they are designed specifically to prevent additional emotional abuse. I have a right to feel safe in my own skin. Period. It is not up for negotiations. Second, boundaries when set at the right level, under the right circumstances, with the right people can enhance commun...

My Amygdala Is An Asshole!

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Yep, that almond-shaped mass of gray matter inside each cerebral hemisphere, involved with the experiencing of emotions is acting like an unruly three-year-old throwing a fucking tantrum in the middle of the store simply because it can! At least that is what it feels like right now. My amygdala and I are having some words, which is also ridiculous because that involves my pre-frontal cortex and it pretty much is a doormat when it comes to the little almond-shaped asshole screaming "Danger, Danger" at EVERYFUCKINGTHING! It is a hyperactive asshole, who in reality thinks it is actually protecting me from something. I appreciate the efforts... but... Zeus on roller skates! Stop! Now, you may have noticed I started this post just diving into the deep end of an emotional occurrence that is dominating my damn life right now. This crap is not fun and for those of you who know me, you know I like to point out the absurdities of the human condition and have a good laugh at myself, but...

Revisiting Grief

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I am knee deep in boxes in my art space. I am working hard to get it all set up so I can get down to the business of creating, but I am also neck deep in disenfranchised grief. Yeah, that was a new one for me too. I am learning a great deal about it this week, because that shit is bowling me over and causing panic attacks in the middle of the book store and today at the grocery store. You all do remember I cuss right? I mean I cuss A LOT and there are actual studies coming out that link cussing to intelligence and emotional well-being. I should have been immune to panic attacks based on my cussing level and that last one, but oh fucking well! Grief does not work like a clock because it has it's own schedule and plan for implementing that schedule. It seems Grief likes to show up at the most inopportune time, sneak up behind you and shake you to your core. I have written about grief on my previous blog. It has interrupted my life before, too many times. I am not a stranger to de...

All in good time...

It has been over 5 years since I have written a word for the world to view. Many of you know the old blog, which is still there, but no longer valid for who I am at this moment. See... I have changed to a degree and I am trying to get my feet back under me.  I just turned 53 years old, my hair has an imbalance of white and black, indicating I should be wiser, but it isn't how I feel. The opposite seems to take root in my core and whisper words of insecurity and lies about my worth. In addition to not writing, there has been a gap in my artistic endeavors and my hands seem to have forgotten how to hold a paintbrush. I have been feeling a little lost these past five years.  As I have stumbled around blindly behind my self-imposed veiled eyes, I have taken some steps to set a course for new discoveries about myself. I returned to college, finished my bachelor's degree, and I am only 3 classes away from having my master's degree. It has been a journey rooted in curiosity and a ...