Hello, residents of Crazie Town.
You may be wondering where in the world have I been for the last 616 days? Then again maybe not. Maybe you don’t care one whit about me. But, before you delete this, I’ll share one parting shot from my Catholic Guilt Mother, “Go ahead without me. I’ll be fine here all by myself.”
Somewhere, around day 597, I crawled into a deep, dark cave, curled up in a fetal position, and decided it was a good way to live out the rest of my life.
A few months ago I was listening to a podcast from best motivational speaker ever, Mama Ru/ aka: Drag Superstar RuPaul, and when asked how his past formed his life he said, “I am NOT a victim.”
Five little words changed my path.
Those words circled around my head for weeks, then they moved to my heart, then to my soul. I realized I didn’t want to be a victim anymore.
But how could I change my entire way of thinking?
I now read every self-help book I can get my hands on. I write my thoughts and fears and, (dare I say it?) dreams, in journals. Lots and lots of journals.
Here is a small sampling of what I’ve mowed through so far.
I have a loooong way to go. As the lyrics from my favorite song remind me all day long – “I am brave. I am bruised. I am who I’m meant to be. This is me!”
Who I am is not a victim.
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Welcome back! Missed you!
I’ll buy lunch.
Following my strokes, almost 17-years ago, my mantra became “*Bless And Release*.”
Not copyrighted. Steal and use when appropriate.
The Mayor is back – yay!
Missed you. Glad you’re back.
Teresa, Oh Joy! Oh Joy! Miss Dysfunction is back! With journals! I’ve got some great self-help advice. But then…it wouldn’t be self-help, then, would it? You’ll just have to be satisfied with some of my 22 cent Wal-mart collegiate wide-ruled journals. I use them all the time for my daily journaling when I don’t use them to paper my basement office. Yay, Teresa!
So glad that you are ok and writing again. I can partially identify with you, I just do not crawl all the way into the cave. Hope you will be posting again soon.
Oh, how I’ve missed Crazie Town. Please don’t “self-help” away your special brand of crazy (or, wait, would that be your voice?) It’s what makes your stories so special 🙂
Welcome back. I missed you.
I had to hear you are back among the living. I have missed seeing you
Glad you writing again! Sounds like you are taking some steps to see the Sun again!
Ya know what, Girl? You’re not entirely alone. Well, rather, we’re in complementary caves. Mine’s been going on, basically, since I lost my teaching schedule to another adjunct and the new chair wouldn’t assign any to me. That was 2015. Cliff said stay home and write, so I have. And completed the memoir; queried 200+ agents; got back some encouraging you write really well and this is important but …. ah, yes, the buts. In addition, this 1924 built house which has too much of us to get out of, has needed extensive and costly repairs beginning with a new heating/cooling system on the coldest days of mid-January. Right now, electricians are here, for days and days and I’m writing on the dining room table instead of my writing room, to completely rewire the house. Which will make me feel safe again, but still… I also don’t have a car to get out because our third car died last year. Both Stephen and Cliff need theirs for school. I think it’s a good plan to read what you’re reading and dig out. I’m past the depression stage and into the SHIT! can this stuff stop????? But I keep saying, well, we’re not in the Carolinas. If you want to come have lunch or tea or coffee…that is if you have a car….I’m home. Or you can call. I have a cell phone…which by the way is losing its battery power and I don’t want to give it up and replacement batteries don’t work. I tried that. So there ’tis. And I’m not even going to start on what a chore the farm has been this year.
Glad to hear you are still with us. I want to hear more. where you have been. where you are going.n’est-ce pas?