I haven't been feeling well. Not just mood-wise, but I've been coughing and sneezing and fatigued. I'm not saying I'm sick, but I'm not necessarily thinking about blogging, either. So the other day, I jump in the shower right after I've dropped my son off at school, just to make sure I have time to nap before I pick him up, and make sure it's a GOOD nap, too. Then I hear an engine outside, car doors, then footsteps to my door, knocking in a somewhat jaunty and confident fashion . . .
My dog is barking at this point, and I wonder for a few moments if I can wait it out, and these people I probably don't know will leave, when the doorbell rings, my dog goes ballistic, and I know the nap is officially postponed. When I see the outline of a badge on someone's chest through the glass in the door, I know for SURE the nap is postponed.
I answer, and it's two BOUNTY HUNTERS! WTF? Right? I mean, I am the most BORING person you could meet, so I know there's no way they are looking for me. They ask if I know Blanky Blank, and I say no, then ask if I've ever seen her, show me a picture to which I answer no. They look confused, sure I must know this person, but I tell them I don't. They ask who I am, how long I've lived here, if I rent or own, and realize I'm telling the truth, I don't know the woman they are looking for. And she drives a similar car to me, to add to the confusion.But then it dawns on me that I get tons of phone calls for the woman who used to live here, and even though they must have had a different phone number, mine is now associated with this address and prone to having bill collectors find it. So apparently she's in some kind of financial difficulties. I ask the last name again, and it matches. It's her sister!
So I give them every detail I know, even give them old mail that wasn't forwarded, tell them the house I saw them walk over to, everything I can think of. They say her sister is wanted in three states and in Canada for identity theft and fraud. Wow. Hope they catch her. The men also warn me to check my own credit, that she's just that crafty. And her sister doesn't sound so trustworthy, either. Great. Just great. Did I pick the right address or what?
But I tell you, I had the most interesting Facebook status update for the day! ;)
Saturday, May 29, 2010
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Pick me up . . .
Know what's funny? I am probably one of the few people in the world who does NOT enjoy soda or cola of any kind. Really don't like it much. I can easily pass it up. I know people who are hooked on Diet Coke, and rarely drink anything else, even water! But it really isn't any treat for me. I can pass. Coffee I like. Tea now and then. But not soda.
At the moment, though, I'm hooked on ginger ale! Yum! Maybe it's the ginger zing, I don't know! :) I really like ginger, and ginger lemonade is the best! I found I like the Jamaican style ginger ale more than regular Canada Dry, but I'll take it anyway! :) Just something that's been a little pick me up lately.
Other than that, I'm pretty friggin' lonely. Waiting for some new friendships to build on. But I'm also nervous about jumping in and opening myself up for more disappointment and putting my son through emotional commitments that don't pan out. It's hard for him because he makes friends with MY friends, and it's sad when they disappear. He doesn't get it, why mommy just thinks someone is nuts and needs to be out of our lives. So when my most recent close friend decided she was angry at me for something I didn't do, I was fine with it. Good, bye-bye. Not to say our friendship hadn't meant anything to me, because that's not true. But she had made me feel like I was never good enough, and for someone with low self-esteem, that's never good. Just made me feel good long enough for her to take her frustrations out on me, then apologize enough to do it all over again. When I finally got out from under that spell, I was relieved to say the least. But now I want to be careful when choosing someone to build a friendship with, and I know it's hard to do that in such a technical, non-emotional manner. I just can't take "crazy" right now. Crazy as I might be, I'm all I can handle right now.
I used to think I related to people with mental problems more than "regular" people. But I've since recognized that probably EVERYONE has some sort of mental problem, some just aren't diagnosed, and some are probably just not severe enough to interfere with their normal functioning. So that former distinction doesn't seem to apply right now. I just need to find people to bring close to me who don't bring me down but build me up. I'm at a state where I need to do some serious healing. And I've put myself off way too long.
Thanks for reading.
At the moment, though, I'm hooked on ginger ale! Yum! Maybe it's the ginger zing, I don't know! :) I really like ginger, and ginger lemonade is the best! I found I like the Jamaican style ginger ale more than regular Canada Dry, but I'll take it anyway! :) Just something that's been a little pick me up lately.
Other than that, I'm pretty friggin' lonely. Waiting for some new friendships to build on. But I'm also nervous about jumping in and opening myself up for more disappointment and putting my son through emotional commitments that don't pan out. It's hard for him because he makes friends with MY friends, and it's sad when they disappear. He doesn't get it, why mommy just thinks someone is nuts and needs to be out of our lives. So when my most recent close friend decided she was angry at me for something I didn't do, I was fine with it. Good, bye-bye. Not to say our friendship hadn't meant anything to me, because that's not true. But she had made me feel like I was never good enough, and for someone with low self-esteem, that's never good. Just made me feel good long enough for her to take her frustrations out on me, then apologize enough to do it all over again. When I finally got out from under that spell, I was relieved to say the least. But now I want to be careful when choosing someone to build a friendship with, and I know it's hard to do that in such a technical, non-emotional manner. I just can't take "crazy" right now. Crazy as I might be, I'm all I can handle right now.
I used to think I related to people with mental problems more than "regular" people. But I've since recognized that probably EVERYONE has some sort of mental problem, some just aren't diagnosed, and some are probably just not severe enough to interfere with their normal functioning. So that former distinction doesn't seem to apply right now. I just need to find people to bring close to me who don't bring me down but build me up. I'm at a state where I need to do some serious healing. And I've put myself off way too long.
Thanks for reading.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Ponderings on Insanity
Didn't I say I was a bad blogger? I did, didn't I? Well, yeah. I'm just not very consistent, am I? Maybe inconsistency is my consistency, if that makes any sense! Ha! Life intervenes, usually. I seldom participate in my hobbies anymore, but a lot of why I think I CAN'T is probably in my head. I could if I made the time somehow. I think I usually think I SHOULD be doing something else, so I don't do the things I enjoy. I often feel guilt when I make time for myself. I'm not trying to rant and berate myself, it's just something I've been working on, to realize when my feelings are justified and when they are not.
At the moment, I've been fighting depression. I am starting to wonder, however, if it is more than that, or an entirely different problem altogether. I just assumed it was depression, since the worst part of it all was the sadness, the unyielding unhappiness . . . But as I think back to my childhood, and then to my adolescence, I remember being more than just sad. I was . . . quirky, even WEIRD. What if it's a personality disorder I've been fighting all these years, and I just didn't know it?
I've been reading about schizotypal personality disorder recently, mostly trying to see if I could find a label for what my sibling's problems might be, but even though I didn't exactly identify with the symptoms, I wondered if some of my behaviors and personality quirks from prior to my "medicated life" might have been more markedly schizotypal or related to another disorder. I stop short of saying my belief in the paranormal is a symptom, mostly because I am so extremely skeptical. I believe in the possibility that energy can exist in some form after death, but I don't believe in demons, orbs, UFOs, SLI, or things like that. Even psychic powers I have a tough time with, since what people see could so often be mistaken hallucinations or psychotic delusions. I have at times felt I was psychic, when I was about 10-12 years old, but that was also at the height of my quirks and alienation from society. At that age, it was the first time I really remember wanting to die. I was so depressed day in and day out, nothing helped. I dressed differently (very geeky, in fact) and excelled in school, because I felt like I was supposed to, but also because I didn't have the distraction of friends or a social life. I believed I had psychic ability, that I could see ghosts. That's when I had my first paranormal experience, that I've been unable to shake my whole life. I wonder now if it was real. But the recordings and evidence I've gathered since then help to reinforce the belief, as well as meeting so many experts in the field out here in California. But that possibility it's "mental illness" that is responsible for that core belief still nags me.
I wonder if it was the situation that made me what I was, or if I was who I was. Even into college, as much as I wanted to make friends, I could say things that someone took the wrong way, not knowing how far to take a joke, not knowing exactly how someone would read something I said. Often I would come away from a situation with a different take than those around me. For example, I took a class where the professor took us to his home and to his studio as a sort of field trip. The idea was to show us how working artists lived and worked, what kinds of things he did to keep his office organized, software, etc. At the time, I remember being extremely annoyed that he had done this, thinking it was an overtly conceited gesture, showing us what a "big shot" he thought he was, and thinking his way was the best way . . . My boyfriend at the time (now husband) told me he thought it was just because he had access to his own studio and office, that it was easy, and it made sense. I blew off what he had said, thinking he just "didn't understand" the B.S. that existed in the art world, and therefore didn't know what he was talking about. But now that I think back, I think he was right. And I wonder if those kinds of events are common for schizotypals.
I'll discuss all of this with my mental health professionals. But it's been on my mind, so now it's on my blog. Time to find out what's wrong, so I can fix it. And maybe, by extension, my sibling. I worry so much that he/she isn't getting the help he/she needs. So I can only live by example, can't I?
At the moment, I've been fighting depression. I am starting to wonder, however, if it is more than that, or an entirely different problem altogether. I just assumed it was depression, since the worst part of it all was the sadness, the unyielding unhappiness . . . But as I think back to my childhood, and then to my adolescence, I remember being more than just sad. I was . . . quirky, even WEIRD. What if it's a personality disorder I've been fighting all these years, and I just didn't know it?
I've been reading about schizotypal personality disorder recently, mostly trying to see if I could find a label for what my sibling's problems might be, but even though I didn't exactly identify with the symptoms, I wondered if some of my behaviors and personality quirks from prior to my "medicated life" might have been more markedly schizotypal or related to another disorder. I stop short of saying my belief in the paranormal is a symptom, mostly because I am so extremely skeptical. I believe in the possibility that energy can exist in some form after death, but I don't believe in demons, orbs, UFOs, SLI, or things like that. Even psychic powers I have a tough time with, since what people see could so often be mistaken hallucinations or psychotic delusions. I have at times felt I was psychic, when I was about 10-12 years old, but that was also at the height of my quirks and alienation from society. At that age, it was the first time I really remember wanting to die. I was so depressed day in and day out, nothing helped. I dressed differently (very geeky, in fact) and excelled in school, because I felt like I was supposed to, but also because I didn't have the distraction of friends or a social life. I believed I had psychic ability, that I could see ghosts. That's when I had my first paranormal experience, that I've been unable to shake my whole life. I wonder now if it was real. But the recordings and evidence I've gathered since then help to reinforce the belief, as well as meeting so many experts in the field out here in California. But that possibility it's "mental illness" that is responsible for that core belief still nags me.
I wonder if it was the situation that made me what I was, or if I was who I was. Even into college, as much as I wanted to make friends, I could say things that someone took the wrong way, not knowing how far to take a joke, not knowing exactly how someone would read something I said. Often I would come away from a situation with a different take than those around me. For example, I took a class where the professor took us to his home and to his studio as a sort of field trip. The idea was to show us how working artists lived and worked, what kinds of things he did to keep his office organized, software, etc. At the time, I remember being extremely annoyed that he had done this, thinking it was an overtly conceited gesture, showing us what a "big shot" he thought he was, and thinking his way was the best way . . . My boyfriend at the time (now husband) told me he thought it was just because he had access to his own studio and office, that it was easy, and it made sense. I blew off what he had said, thinking he just "didn't understand" the B.S. that existed in the art world, and therefore didn't know what he was talking about. But now that I think back, I think he was right. And I wonder if those kinds of events are common for schizotypals.
I'll discuss all of this with my mental health professionals. But it's been on my mind, so now it's on my blog. Time to find out what's wrong, so I can fix it. And maybe, by extension, my sibling. I worry so much that he/she isn't getting the help he/she needs. So I can only live by example, can't I?
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