but what do i say?

i told my friend daniel that i felt like writing tonight but i have no idea what i want/need to say.  his blog is always an inspiration to me but he succeeds where i spin.  his writing is focused and mine is a purging.  i sit in front of this empty screen and try to give voice to the anxiety in my brain and the way my body fights and/or gives in.  

tomorrow marks 10 months the bookstore has been open in the new location.  mostly things are great.  money is tight.  the book business has changed.  i'm looking for ways to make more money and stretch the dollars that come in.  luckily the store pays for itself - it's paying me that's the current problem.  as you can imagine, that fact is not an easy one for someone with, at times, debilitating anxiety.

my brother just called - he helps my anxiety though we had to talk politics.  he opened with, "i'm not gonna talk long, but..." because he knows i tend to rant and rave.  today and tomorrow are my days off so i hope to enjoy them and rest a little.

grace and peace

what we owe our boys

reflecting today on what is happening in our society and in our schools.  we absolutely have a gun problem in this country. i don't want to write about that today, i've written about that ad nauseam and i've argued it ad nauseam.  i want to talk about what we teach to our children (full disclosure - i don't have kids) specifically what we teach our boys.  

these schools shooters are almost always boys and almost always white.  why is that?  what are we teaching (or not teaching) our boys?  there seems to be a pattern in the past of these young men - they are almost always obsessed with guns and violent video games, they are almost always bullied in some way, they almost always exhibit violent behavior against women in their lives.  likely they seek fame and infamy in a culture where we glorify killers and give hours and days of 24 hour news coverage to these mass murderers.

what i believe is that we teach our boys (systematically and mostly unconsciously) that the world is theirs, that they can be anything and do anything, that girls are objects of their desire and for their pleasure, that they are special, that they are superior, that they are strong, that they are entitled.

what we don't teach them is that they are part of a community of "others," that the world is not solely theirs, that they WILL be disappointed, that they will be broken-hearted, that they will be scared. we call them "sissies" and "pussies" and "wusses" and "girls" when they show emotion or drop a ball or show vulnerability.  we tell them they "run like a girl" when they lose.  we instill in them that girls are weak and that they should be strong and therefore dominant. 

we don't let them be boys, we don't let them figure it out on their own, we don't let them grow, we don't teach them how to be in touch with their emotions.  we make them angry, we call them names, we tell them they have to "man up." we ply them with video games in which they earn points for the number of prostitutes they kill (grand theft auto) and then we give them easy and almost unfettered access to guns.  what in the world do we think they are going to do?  we've given them no coping mechanisms in which to deal with the hard world we all live in.  entitlement is a killer.  we've seen it 18 times this year alone.      

when is the time?

if now is not the time, when is the time?  if it's "too early" to talk about sane gun laws when will it be too late?

NOW IS THE TIME!  for many kids there will not be a later time.  

another year over

all i can think about today is that somehow, through no effort of my own, i have lived a whole calendar year on this planet without my daddy. when he died i didn't think i would live through the end of that day.  i was so surprised when i woke up the next morning.  i still have a hard time understanding how my heart continues to beat while his doesn't.  

i have hated most of this year but i could at least say, "last year daddy was here."  tomorrow i won't be able to say that anymore and it HURTS!

i got nothing else.

housekeeping

i don't know what to write about today but i feel compelled to write anyway.  i've not felt well this week so my anxiety has been high.  got a couple of days off now and am pleased with how the store is doing but it's hard to feel removed from the goings on there.  i try not to constantly check my phone for info on sales, etc. but mostly i lose that battle.  got my weekly paperwork done already this morning so there's that.

the house is a disaster area so i have to do a few things here before the health department shows up and shuts me down.  i mananged to do the thing i dreaded most first thing this morning:  the kitchen.  what i want to do is sit here under the pug and cat and read a book - that's not likely to happen but a girl can dream.

the dining room table is about to collapse under the weight of all the books stacked on it.  trying to find places for them but in order to do that I have to decide which books can leave the house and make their way to the store and that, my friends, is a sacrifice and a constant struggle.  

i don't watch a lot of tv but i do like a few shows and now that i get home after 8:00 most nights i miss the couple of things i like so i usually catch up on my off days.  vowed not to turn the tv on today until the house is in better shape.  listened to one podcast this a.m. and have to get up and put all the clothes away because they are stacked up on top of the record player that i need to access for today's entertainment.  

off i go.

grace and peace

7 years and counting

i didn't write this year on the 7th anniversary of the flood but i had the same kind of day as every other may 2nd i've had since that fateful one in 2010.  i would be remiss in not saying a few things.  i clearly remember being at work and hearing construction going on in the studio next door and feeling my nerves jump inside with each swing on the hammer.  i cried a lot that day and talked about the anniversary with a couple of people.  they comforted me and cried and said all the right things and i felt like i always feel, "this will never be over for me!"  this is not my past.  this is right now.  this is PTSD.

i recently read a few studies that talked about the renaming of PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder) to PTSI (post traumatic stress INJURY).  this renaming does not change the classification of either acronym from a mental disorder or illness but it acknowledges that it is not only that but also an actual brain injury.  by whatever name, the stress response to trauma changes the very shape of the brain and changes how those of us who are affected by it respond and cope.  

one part of my brain, the left side, the logical, chronological, fact-based side knows that this is 2017 and that i survived the flood.  while the right side of my brain, the jacked up side, the feelings side that says, "fight or flight or freeze!" is bigger and stronger and much more powerful and in the grip of panic and stress and anxiety.  the right side almost always wins.  it says, "it's may 2, 2010 and you are about to die...now run..."

i am far and away better than i was 6 years ago when i couldn't leave my house and 5 years ago when i was sure i would never be able to work again, etc.  i have infinite hope that by year 9 and year 10, etc. that improvement will have been made.  trauma happens to everyone in this life but we don't all process it the same.  grief is different for everyone and joy is too.  i want to believe that i am not defined by my mental illness but i know that it is part of me just like my DNA and my name.  i can't escape it but i continue the struggle to make peace with it.  

grace and peace

i'm still here

well, i'm still here.  

it's been months since i've written.  the main reason for that is that i've been busy.  also, i took some months off from communication of any type unless it was absolutely necessary.  i've moved, i've moved the store, i'm preparing to move the store AGAIN!  

i've been feeling extra-anxious lately.  the new house (i'm renting a small house) has some moisture issues.  and now there's a hurricane and the resulting flooding in houston and all the thoughts, feelings and memories come rushing back (they are never gone) but seeing the pictures that i try very hard to avoid make it so much harder!

i'm very happy to report to that i'm moving the bookstore to a prime location (where the bookstore i used to manage was) and it should finally allow me to support myself living my dream.  there's some anxiety that goes along with that but i'm feeling positive about it overall.

can't explain how much i wish daddy were here to see all of this!  i miss him to my core.  the grief is terrible!

grace and peace