tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-85728783933508531642024-03-05T23:34:22.737-06:00down from the ledge...postcards from the edge of suicideBUSTING OPEN THE TABOOdownfromtheledgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02324597207878500097noreply@blogger.comBlogger61125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8572878393350853164.post-62570423796059919142016-01-21T21:12:00.000-06:002016-01-21T21:12:41.485-06:00First, stop the bleeding.<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Your house is on fire.</span><br />
<div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">The basement's a mess, the dishes
overflow in the sink, and the toilet's broken.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">BUT...your house is on fire.
Soooo….what do you do first?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">On any ordinary day, a broken
toilet could be an all-out crisis. You wouldn't want to put off dealing with
THAT for too long. The dishes? Meh. They can sit around for a
few days. And the basement....well....that can always wait until next
year.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">But if you don't run screaming
out of the house and call the fire department, none of those other little
problems will be of any consequence, because your home will have smoldered into
a pile of ashes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">So this is a lesson in<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;"><a href="http://www.downfromtheledge.com/2013_07_01_archive.html">priorities</a>. Because right now, you're worrying about seventy-nine
different things: some critical...most of minute importance. If you're anything
like the majority of the procrastinating masses, you're tackling all of those
tiny little problems first...and flat-out ignoring that your house is on fire!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Is it reeeeally possible to live
in that much denial? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Apparently. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">I suspect that we do it because
it (seems) easier. We don't like the dishes, but we know how to
do them. We can push out of mind those great big glaring problems
that we're not really sure how to fix, in exchange for the tiny victory of
accomplishing something menial. It deludes us into feeling "in
control." Yay, we are doing the work it takes to pass for
functional!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Meanwhile, all the little
crackles and pops we ignored suddenly erupt into flames, and we feign
ignorance. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">How could this possibly
have happened?!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Perhaps because we covered
our eyes and ears to all of the little signs. There is a book
brilliantly entitled,<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><em><span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif";">Your Body Is Talking, Are You
Listening?</span></em> The truth is, most of the time we aren't. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Our culture practically boasts
that we are all overworking ourselves to exhaustion, eating ourselves sick, and
drinking ourselves into oblivion. Is
there anything so fundamental as our health, our bodies, the one vehicle we're
given to get through life? And yet, we act like we'll be given a thousand
second chances to stop treating ourselves like crap. Well, guess
what. There’s no trade-in after we drive
this car into the ground. We’re stuck
with whatever we do to it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">I myself recently began<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background: white;">to have
the irritating suspicion that I was going to have to<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><strong><i><span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif";">change</span></i></strong><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>my life in order to<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><em><span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif";">change</span></em><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>my life. I know; how annoying.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">My body had been screaming at me
for - not days - but years. I knew what I needed to do. I knew what
I "should" do. I even knew what I<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><em><span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif";">wanted</span></em><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>to do. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">But somehow, none of that was
enough. I was perfectly content with my escapism. It took a major
health eruption and<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;"><a href="http://www.downfromtheledge.com/2013/02/pain-hope-and-co-existence-of-two.html">immense
pain</a><span class="apple-converted-space"> from
SI joint dysfunction and Piriformis Syndrome </span>for me to get it. 7 years of not being able to sit,
sleep, walk, or drive without my muscles and joints screaming at me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">And that is why Tony Robbins
said, "Change happens when the pain of staying the same is greater than
the pain of change."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Unless, of course, you decide to,
"Change before you have to." - Jack Welch <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">So. My advice to you?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<strong><i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">First, stop the bleeding.</span></i></strong><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">This mantra has been
reverberating inside my head for the past 2 and a half years since I started
writing this post. How’s that for
crazy? Speaking of denial… <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">At first I didn’t finish it
because I hadn’t figured out how to stop the bleeding myself. My “house” – in Jungian terms, my psyche - my very own body was literally on fire with screaming
pain. From a shoulder injury that never
healed, to a diagnosis of SIBO and Fructose Malabsorption, to nerve damage from
a dental implant, a never-ending cascade of appointments and surgeries took a
toll on my ability to manage anything but daily survival. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">I thought I wasn’t writing
because the priority was to put out the fire.
If you're hemorrhaging blood, it doesn't much matter if your thighs
are too big or you haven't dusted the house in 6 months. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">I thought I wasn’t writing
because I would do practically anything BUT face my addiction: sugar. I went to physical therapy for months, lost
another chunk of weight, overhauled my entire diet from vegan to Paleo, and
begrudgingly gave up my favorite FODMAP’s…but couldn’t give up my gluten-free,
dairy-free chocolate. Or, as I tend to
view it, the one food without which life is not worth living.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Then I didn’t finish it because,
well, how hypocritical is it to throw up some post about facing all your crap
when I am so clearly *not doing that. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">I thought I had to:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">a) figure it out,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">b) fix it<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">c) THEN, and only then, write my
success story. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">If I can’t even get a tourniquet
around my arm, what have I learned at all, was my logic. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">Then I realized how much easier
it would be to write this post once I could wrap it all up in a shiny little
bow like everyone else does.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">How much
prettier everyone’s story is once the ugly part is over, and they make it
through to the other side.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">That’s the
only valid time to share your struggles, isn’t it?</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"> </span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; tab-stops: .75in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">This is going to sound weird, but
I haven’t figured out how to fix all of my problems in the past 30 months. I don’t even know if I’ll figure it out in
the next 30 years, or if any of us will.
We just have to do the best we can. We hose down the house, it bursts
into flames again. In the meantime, no
one has shown up to do our dishes or train us for less stressful careers. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">I’ve realized a couple of things
recently. For one, it’s a whole lot
easier to say I can’t give up sugar than to admit that I can’t deal with my
feelings. It’s a whole lot easier to
cram chocolate in my face than to face the fact that I may have to manage
chronic pain, anxiety, and depression the rest of my life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">I used go on walks and ask myself
what it was going to take to let go of the pain that I was in, my rage at
people that hurt me, the suffering I had caused my family, and the shame I felt
from brushing <a href="http://www.downfromtheledge.com/2010/12/on-eve-of-my-3rd-anniversary.html" target="_blank">dangerously close to suicide</a>.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">I haven’t finished this post, or
written much of anything really, because I don’t know what it’s going to take,
or if those feelings will ever fully subside.
I funneled my energy into living and giving and doing and fixing and
trying to solve emotional problems by intellectualizing, avoiding, and
pretending the past didn’t exist. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">I think some part of me believed
that having some distance from my blog would help me to separate from the
despair that I’d gone through so that I could create a new life for
myself. The truth is, I shut myself off
from the one person I can be honest with: myself. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">To not write is to not heal. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">What
major issue are you turning a blind eye to in your life? </span></div>
</div>
downfromtheledgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02324597207878500097noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8572878393350853164.post-81814311885986546012014-04-30T17:46:00.000-05:002014-04-30T17:46:47.975-05:00When Suicide Hits Close to Home<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Yesterday....</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">....while you were busy posting selfies on Facebook, someone chose to leave this world. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">....as you were counting up the reasons why you were too busy to be there for anybody else, someone went out and bought a gun.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">....when you weren't looking, your best friend was counting up pills to see if there were enough yet. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">....in between tweets you twatted and texts you thumbed out to people you barely see in the flesh, someone else was writing our their will. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">In January I lost my cousin to suicide. It didn't escape me that it could have been me, could have been my family reacting to the loss. I don't think my uncle has spoken to anyone in the family about it to this day. It brought back all the guilt of my own father's panic attacks that began the night he didn't know if I was alive or dead. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Six months ago, one of my best friends tried to shoot herself after she was brutally raped and nearly killed. I am the only person she's told about her attempt. She is the only friend I've ever talked about any of my suicidal past with. But despite what she has so bravely shared with me, I cannot bring myself to trust (her? me?) or to let out any more than about 5% of my own story. I cannot figure out how to swallow the stigma or to own that portion of my life.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">And it doesn't end there: Several months ago, my dad lost a coworker to suicide. Today, someone at my agency shared that they'd survived multiple suicide attempts as a teenager. Over the past couple of years, several kids in our community have ended their own lives.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Sometimes it just feels like it's everywhere, and all the time, and too much. Sometimes I feel less alone and less ashamed of the secrets I hide when I realize how many other people have struggled (or are struggling). And then other times I just want to flat-out disown my past and figure out how to have some magic do-over. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">It infuriates me when people remark that suicide is a "selfish" choice. Only someone so self-absorbed as to be primarily concerned with how another's death affects THEM would pick that word out of all the possible adjectives to describe a self-annihilating act. Those are the kind of people who lack the empathy required to imagine what it is like to feel undeserving of life. They are the same people who would've never seen it coming....because they aren't really tuned into anyone else's pain to begin with.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">And is suicide an accusation? "You were not there for me."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Or a statement? "I do not matter."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">A question? "Will this finally end my pain?" </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Or an answer, when there are none.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">And each time, and forever, each death will be mine.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">And always, a question: what have I done with the life I chose to keep living?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">And beneath that...the lingering twinge of envy...for their battle is over.</span> downfromtheledgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02324597207878500097noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8572878393350853164.post-59610264740031208592013-12-23T14:46:00.000-06:002013-12-23T14:46:24.513-06:0099 Problems...And Gluten Caused Them All?Christmas came early for me this year. December 12th, to be exact. <br />
<br />
That was the first day that I woke up without pain. I couldn't figure out why at first; I thought it was just a REALLY good adjustment at the chiro the day before. Why else would my hip and back suddenly hurt so little?! I didn't tell anybody at first, for fear that it was either my imagination or I would jinx it.<br />
<br />
A couple more days went by, and the wrenching abdominal pain I've endured for the past year disappeared. As in gone. This had happened a couple of other times for a day or two when I completely eliminated grains from my diet, but I wasn't able to maintain that strict of eating for long because it still wasn't clear what specifically the problem food was.<br />
<br />
Then I started looking closer at what had changed in my diet (frankly, that was pretty easy since there are so few things I can eat at this point). I realized I had eaten some grains - amaranth, quinoa - but hadn't eaten so much as a cracker or a slice of bread in the past week. Wheat? Gluten? Are you friggin' kidding me?! <br />
<br />
Mind you, I thought gluten wasn't even a possibility after blood testing for food intolerance showed only eggs and dairy to be the culprits, so I never even bothered eliminating it. I've since come to learn that blood testing can yield false negatives. I am also learning more and more about the role of gluten in joint pain, postnasal drip, chemical sensitivities, and other strange phenomenon I have been experiencing for quite some time. <br />
<br />
Still, I knew it was SOMETHING I was eating. Your intestines shouldn't be twisted into knots day and night for no reason. However, two chiropractors and my physical therapist had confirmed that my Ileocecal Valve was frequently out/spasming, so I had been cutting out seeds, nuts, spicy foods, and other supposed triggers for months on end...to no avail. <br />
<br />
Then I came across two amazing interviews with <a href="http://www.fasciafreedomfighters.com/the-role-of-food-in-chronic-pain/" target="_blank">Curt Chaffee</a> and <a href="http://www.fasciafreedomfighters.com/aimee-shunney-interview/" target="_blank">Aimee Shunney</a> over at <a href="http://www.fasciafreedomfighters.com/blog/" target="_blank">Fascia Freedom Fighters</a> about the role of food in chronic pain. Curt detailed several symptoms that were eerily similar to my own recent shoulder problems, and I felt as though I may be on the verge of finding an answer....<br />
<br />
Back in May I was rear-ended; no damage to my car, didn't think much of it. Then I started having trouble lifting and typing, never making the connection. I thought I had aggravated my shoulder lifting weights and doing side planks in physical therpay for my hip. When things tipped over the edge in September and I could barely pull on a pair of pants or brush my teeth, I finally got some help from an awesome new physical therapist and chiropractor. <br />
<br />
It's been a long, slow journey gaining strength back in my dominant hand and shoulder. My right hand continues to turn blue at times, but most of the rotator cuff issues and radiating pain down my arm have gone away. Since the elimination of gluten, the constant achiness in my shoulder and other joints has gradually dissipated more and more. <br />
<br />
How much of a role gluten has played in any or all of this remains to be determined with further testing. The transformation in two short weeks has been nothing short of incredible, however!<br />
<br />
Plus...I can finally type a post without my shoulder spasming! Yaay for small steps. <br />
<br />
For the first time in six years, I feel pure, unadulterated hope about the (seemingly more likely) possibility of getting my life back. I honestly feared that I might be dealing with chronic pain for the rest of my life. Maybe something will change and I'll be right back to that place, but for now I'm going to enjoy driving, lying down, walking, sitting, breathing, and sleeping without pain. <br />
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As an added bonus, I'm down almost 60 pounds, back to my 2006 weight. Thank you, gluten, for the inability to absorb nutrients! I highly recommend intolerance-induced starvation as an effective dieting strategy. Since there are only about 20 foods known to mankind that don't have either eggs, milk, or gluten, it shouldn't be much of a problem keeping it off. Soon I shall closer to the ideal of a waif-like vegan, rather than the fat vegetarian I was a few short months ago, lol. People literally thought I might have cancer, the lbs. were falling off so fast. <br />
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So yeah. You now know why I've fallen off the face of the earth for the past 6 months! <br />
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Cheers and Merry Christmas=)<br />
<br />
Bridownfromtheledgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02324597207878500097noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8572878393350853164.post-74661983678475324102013-08-05T18:53:00.000-05:002013-08-05T18:53:28.815-05:0010 Ways To Tell Depression to F*** Off<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><strong>Please don't ask me how I cured my depression. </strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For one, I'm not cured, I'm just learning to manage it better. And secondly, I couldn't tell you exactly when I came out of it, or whether it might befall me tomorrow. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What I <em>can</em> do is share ten changes I've made in my life to put myself back in control. Learned helplessness is the trap of depression. You try everything, and it doesn't work, so you give up. There is no feeling more powerless than lacking the hope of things getting better. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This list isn't a compilation of research, advice, or suggestions. It is simply 10 things that have worked for me. I hope that, </span><a href="http://www.downfromtheledge.com/#!/2013/04/taking-stock-where-were-you-1-year-ago.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">a year from now</span></a><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">, you've put together your own list of personal anti-depressants. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong><span style="font-size: large;">1. I downed herbs.</span></strong> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<a href="http://www.vitaminworld.com/herbal-products-028/st-johns-wort-300-mg-standardized-extract-005070" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">St. John's Wort</span></a><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> to ward off depression's crying jags. </span><a href="http://www.vitaminshoppe.com/store/en/browse/sku_detail.jsp?id=SO-1481&sourceType=sc&source=FG&adGroup=40-60&keyword=SO-1481&cm_mmc=Google+Shopping-_-Product+Listing+Ads-_-40-60-_-SO-1481&gclid=CPuV3sWG57gCFZBaMgodUDgAKQ" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Passion Flower</span></a><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> to calm the jitters of anxiety. </span><a href="http://www.vitaminworld.com/herbs-n-z-716/meriva-turmeric-phytosome-extract-051545" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Bioavailable turmeric</span></a><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> to simmer my body's inflammation. </span><a href="http://www.vitaminworld.com/epa-fish-oils-017/omega-3-fish-oil-1000-mg-003835" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Omega-3 Fish Oil</span></a><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> to regulate brain chemistry (now used by many hopsitals, by the way). </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You may be skeptical of alternative medicicine, and that's fine. We each have to find what works - or doesn't - for ourselves. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I tried the medical route of managing depression for 12 years, and I was left with more problems than were fixed. It's not just the side effects like night sweats, or that fact that some pills actually GAVE me anxiety or paralyzed me. It's the fact that, in every single instance where I was suicidal, I was either taking an antidepressant or coming off of one. I learned to trust myself and my body more than I trust some "all-knowing" doctor. It took me almost a year to come out of the fog of my last antidepressant. There is a cost to everything. And let me just say, you will raaaaaaarely be told of those potential costs up-front.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong><span style="font-size: large;">2. I slept...and then I slept some more.</span></strong> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Oh boy, I can do this one!" you are thinking, "I already sleep 14 hours a (day) night!" Well, I used to, too, and each day day I was more exhausted than the last. For the first time in my entire life, I finally feel rested when I wake up after 8 hours of sleep. The tough part was breaking the pattern of staying up till 2 or 3 in the morning, then sleeping away the whole next day. When I was depressed, that was preferable, because I could avoid both physical pain and a life I felt helpless to master. But I couldn't function.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The key for me was to lean into this change, because my inner rebel wants to stay up until all hours. My goal was to go to bed a little earlier each night, try to stick to a general waking and sleeping time, and not expect perfection. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Part of my issue is an aversion to actually going to bed. Maybe you also lay there for hours trying to finally drift off amidst a barrage of anxious thoughts. The only way around this is to be too tired to think. Here's what saved me: </span><br />
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<li><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I got a </span><a href="http://www.spoonkspace.com/node/193" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Spoonk</span></a><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> acupressure mat. I am not kidding you, this thing is effing awesome. All you have to do is lay on it for 30-40 minutes before bedtime to release endorphins and other feel-good chemicals that will relax you right into sleep. Yes, the points are sharp. Yes, it will scrape the crap out of you if you run your hand across it. That is why you sloooooowly ease yourself onto it, and quit being a whiny baby! </span></li>
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<li><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I take two 350 mg capsules of </span><a href="http://www.vitaminshoppe.com/store/en/browse/sku_detail.jsp?id=SO-1481&sourceType=sc&source=FG&adGroup=40-60&keyword=SO-1481&cm_mmc=Google+Shopping-_-Product+Listing+Ads-_-40-60-_-SO-1481&gclid=CPuV3sWG57gCFZBaMgodUDgAKQ" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Passionflower</span></a><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> (not on an empty stomach!) to de-stress from the day and they usually put me right to sleep. I've never tried </span><a href="http://www.nlm.nih.gov/medlineplus/druginfo/natural/940.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Melatonin</span></a><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> myself, but many doctors are now prescribing this naturally occurring hormone that helps to regulate sleep cycles. </span></li>
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</span></ul>
<strong><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">3. I found a J-O-B.</span> </span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></strong><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This is the tricky item on the list for me. In a way, finding my current job - which is moreso a place where I can contribute something meaningful - has been the foundation for everything else on this list. If I had done every other thing on here, but still wasn't working, I'm not so sure I would be writing this post. THAT is how important it is to be of value. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In no way whatsoever am I implying that our worth comes from our work. I can only say that being unemployed is so dehumanizing as to nullify many of the other self-care tools a person might try. I have never felt so useless in my life, and it sucked. Right or wrong, I honestly don't know where I would be if I didn't have the dignity afforded to me by returning to productive society. It is what it is.</span><br />
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<strong><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">4. I got quiet.</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></strong><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This one was a real stretch for me, being an introvert (well, actually it was, because I'm a neurotic introvert)!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For me, getting still takes one of two forms: a long bath in epsom salts - my personal form of meditation (given my lack of tolerance for all things slow) - and </span><a href="http://www.somahappy.com/2012/10/constructive-rest/" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">constructive rest</span></a><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">. Constructive rest is my most recent discovery. Not only does it do wonders for my hip pain, it changes my ability to remember what calm is throughout the stressful workweek. If you can't seem to turn off the noise in your brain, this might be something to try.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Shutting down is next to impossible for me. I likely appear calm from the outside, but my mind is always racing, and my jaw is always clenching. You likely have your own anxiety holding pattern, the result of our fight-or-flight society. No one is going to give you permission to turn off the noise and stop pushing yourself past your limits. You are going to have to choose this for yourself...IF you want it badly enough.</span><br />
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<strong><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">5. I moved my ass.</span> </span></strong><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The research on exercise and depression is so prevalent that I won't bother quoting it here. Suffice it to say: someone's already said it to you, and you've already been annoyed by it. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Here is what I know for me: exercise does not fix my depression. I have always exercised, even when I was depressed, and it wasn't enough to bring me out of it. However, I would be MORE depressed if I weren't exercising. I feel *better* afterwards. Brain chemistry, baby. It's one of those few things we have control over, and it doesn't cost a thing to get outside and go for a walk.</span><br />
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<strong><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">6. I stopped isolating myself.</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></strong><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sometimes. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Let's not get crazy here; I'm still an introvert, and I like my peace and quiet. I can't relax with a bunch of people around. I'll never love being in a big group of people. BUT. I've gone out and done things and made new friends....and I don't feel lonely when I'm alone. That's the difference.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It is only too easy for me to, not just pull away from people, but all the way into myself. I found out that living by myself is not good for me, and so I don't put myself in that position anymore. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<a href="http://www.thedailybeast.com/newsweek/2013/05/22/why-suicide-has-become-and-epidemic-and-what-we-can-do-to-help.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Suicide Epidemic</span></a><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> talks more about loneliness as the real killer. </span><br />
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<strong><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">7. I put my health above all else.</span></strong><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I made health my absolute </span><a href="http://www.downfromtheledge.com/#!/2013/07/what-it-means-to-have-priority.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">priority</span></a><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> this year. If you don't feel good physically, you won't feel good mentally. And vice versa. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now, it may well be the chicken and egg dilemma, but nothing is so fundamental as what we put into our bodies and how much we move (or don't). When I eat clean, I feel clean; it's as simple as that. Due to recent allergy discoveries, I am now borderline vegan. Giving up nearly every food I've ever loved has been crazy hard. But I feel better. And I'm even starting to like my physical therapy exercises; how nuts is that? </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg37Xq0yHvURQsN0jd9HIM-J_vEVNfgrYsmS6WnkcESU2c0d8R9r16hAeYMK_1USlsa2dtqNEMPRVxRCqfIzp8Is8dDN1g5rA00yGemOqw5Imq7f1iVbL__l5fZvzpAB6GbS42CiK4aq9M/s1600/quote.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg37Xq0yHvURQsN0jd9HIM-J_vEVNfgrYsmS6WnkcESU2c0d8R9r16hAeYMK_1USlsa2dtqNEMPRVxRCqfIzp8Is8dDN1g5rA00yGemOqw5Imq7f1iVbL__l5fZvzpAB6GbS42CiK4aq9M/s1600/quote.jpg" height="179" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<strong><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">8. I changed my environment.</span> </span></strong><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There are two things I know for sure don't work for me: one is living in chaos, the other is living in isolation. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I grew up in chaos - with a family always in crisis - and it overwhelms me. I can spot chaotic people a mile away, and I stay away from them. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">To me, peace = home. I finally have that. There is no yelling, no mess, no constant negativty. I like being around low-key people who aren't trying to suck the life out of me. Is that too much to ask?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">9. I went outside.</span> </span></strong><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Nature heals. Sunshine heals. A chaise lounge reclined back far enough to examine the drifting clouds as they fall together, then apart, then away.....it heals. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have a few favorite spots - a bench by my favorite lake; a trail tucked away from the rest of the city - where I can go to just exist for a while. We spend our days pretending we feel whatever way the situation calls for; there has to be a counterpoint where we can just be who we are and feel what we feel. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong><span style="font-size: large;">10. I self-cared the shit out of myself.</span></strong> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I no longer leave the house - or take phonecalls - on Sundays. I work out, I take a bath, I chop vegetables and cook for the week, then I sit on my blessed ass and do whatever the hell I want for the night. Actually, there are a couple of hours EVERY night where I allow myself to only do what I want. From my waking moment, every other hour of the day is a task to be done. Well, I finally decided that I haven't become a better person by accomplishing any more crap in a day. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have now decided that I <em>only</em> like Sundays, and I want a whole week of them. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I experimented with different doctors, massage therapists, physical therapists, and even a Rolfer, until I found my own little circle of healers. The problem is that you may have to try 3 or 4 (or 10) idiots until you find the right ones for you. Just find your people. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong><span style="font-size: x-large;">The lesson here?</span></strong> </span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There is always one more counselor or herb or remedy to try. And if you try all of those and every single one them fails, there is still no telling what the next day will bring if you're alive to see it. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">The other thing to remember is that this is MY list. I would have never guessed that half of these items would be on here. Ask any person on the street, and they may tell you 10 completely different things that worked for them.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Healing is a personal - and sometimes lifelong - journey, one that no one can take for us. I wish you well on yours. </span><br />
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downfromtheledgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02324597207878500097noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8572878393350853164.post-7768756493703887082013-07-24T22:17:00.000-05:002013-07-24T22:17:03.227-05:00What it means to have a priority.<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What would you be willing to do to truly make something a priority in your life?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">How many hours a day would you invest? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Would you be willing to do things other people didn't agree with? That people around you thought were weird or crazy or wasteful? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And money....how much would you be willing to pay if that's what it took?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Thirty dollars? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A hundred? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ten thousand? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What if it required sacrificing other things you like or value for a short while - or even a long while? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Like this blog. No, I haven't posted in 3 months. Yes, I still write in my head every day anyway. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But when it gets down to it, I have a singular focus. And that is: getting better. Healing.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sometimes that means choosing 8 hours of sleep a night over staying up till 2 AM writing a post (as seems to be my pattern).</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Are the two - healing and blogging - mutually exclusive? No. In many ways, this blog HAS been my source of healing. I vomit out things onto this page that I can't let out anywhere else in my life, and that's been huge. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But when yet another injury struck me this winter, it cemented for me that I cannot go on like this. Weeks of suffering turned into months, then years (now almost SIX) of endless pain. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If I don't have my physical health, nothing else matters. That's the bottom line. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Because If I don't fix this now, when will I? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">How many more years will I be able to go on like this? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">How many more re-injuries will thrust me back into hopelessness and helplessness? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We all hear people claiming to have priorities all the time. But they don't need to say a word. All we have to do is look at how they spend their time, who they spend it with, and where their money goes. Usually it will be in direct contradiction to what comes out of their mouths. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So I guess what all this means is that, for now, my priority is me. Nobody else is going to take care of me, or make me better, or do the work for me. "No one is coming" to save me, as Nathaniel Branden might say...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Whatever alternative treatments I have to try, whatever amount I have to pay for physical therapy, however long I have to spend with laborious daily exercises that I would trade a 20-mile bikeride for any day, my decision has been made.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's time. In fact, it's long past time. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><b>"Change happens when the pain of staying the same is greater than the pain of change."</b><b><br /></b><b>-Tony Robbins</b></i></span></blockquote>
<br />downfromtheledgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02324597207878500097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8572878393350853164.post-49422038265481009082013-04-04T18:38:00.000-05:002013-04-04T18:47:03.125-05:00Taking Stock: Where Were You 1 Year Ago?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdcfpX6D3J0oylUMKWPKN5ulCWS_VK_MfUH-87-RvJafFUKsiu91i0Ugx_9YV1wx-99Gt6cA6eF3gxIs_P4pIDXpEJGe9F9MVE0K1kh7Ufg4HR2vAYmaV850qDvS9h6-GQnq9ULeAxC7k/s1600/1+year.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdcfpX6D3J0oylUMKWPKN5ulCWS_VK_MfUH-87-RvJafFUKsiu91i0Ugx_9YV1wx-99Gt6cA6eF3gxIs_P4pIDXpEJGe9F9MVE0K1kh7Ufg4HR2vAYmaV850qDvS9h6-GQnq9ULeAxC7k/s1600/1+year.jpg" height="200" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><strong><i>"Today is the tomorrow you worried about yesterday, and all is well."</i> </strong></span><span style="font-size: large;"><strong>-</strong></span><span style="font-size: large;"><strong> John T. Tindsley</strong></span><br />
<br />
<br />
1 year ago....<br />
<br />
I wasn't sure I was going to be able to get out of bed and get to my new job every day.<br />
<br />
I wasn't sure I was going to be able to fake it well enough to get by in the company of other Homo sapiens.<br />
<br />
Would I randomly burst into tears and humiliate myself?<br />
<br />
Would everyone see right through to my broken insides?<br />
<br />
Underneath it all, the overarching fear: This will all end in one more failure.<br />
<br />
<br />
But it didn't. <br />
<br />
<br />
As I was moving through Module 2 of my friend Therese's <a href="http://www.theunlost.com/work/important-advice/" target="_blank">Unlost E-Course</a>, I started to realize that things weren't as bad as I seemed to be telling myself they were. Therese had us compare six key dimensions of our lives from a year ago to now. What dawned on me is how the life-and-death worries that plagued me then are not even on my radar today. For the most part;)<br />
<br />
<strong><span style="font-size: large;">1. Relationships</span></strong><br />
<br />
Ugh. Why not start here? For sure, for sure I have a loooooooooooong way to go in this realm. I didn't trust people a year ago, and I don't trust them now. But I'm starting to. I'm letting (some) people INTO my life, instead of cutting them all out. I'm going out instead of shutting myself in, and that's really all I can ask of myself at this point. When you've been let down, and lied to, and trampled on by so many, it's not necessarily a good thing to let any idiot into your life willy-nilly. <br />
<br />
I'm in a happy living situtation instead of chaos-filled negativity. I have healthy boundaries between me and toxic family members. Is it perfect? No. It never WILL be. But you start somewhere, because ANYwhere is better than letting things go on the way they have. <br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><strong>2. Health</strong></span><br />
<br />
I lost 40 pounds this past year. That has to be the first thing I write, because it freaking amazes me. I still can't jog, and there are a lot of days I can't walk over 20 minutes without problems. But I've maintained a vegetarian lifestyle, started my days with raspberry-spinach-chia smoothies instead of processed cereal, and made other gradual changes that added up over a year's time. <br />
<br />
And pain. I couldn't tolerate stairs or driving, nor could I sit in a chair all day last year. I wasn't sure how that was all gonna go down with a new job! I had some really, really bad times. But I made it through one day at a time. When I injured my back on top of everything else, I made "getting better" an absolute priority above all else, including this blog. I went back into Physical Therapy, started <a href="http://www.rolf.org/" target="_blank">Rolfing</a>, found an <a href="http://www.terrynaturallyvitamins.com/products/curamed-750-mg/" target="_blank">herbal anti-inflammatory</a> that miraculously works, and took a week off work to purge built-up stress. <br />
<br />
Shit doesn't get better on its own. Sometimes the first or second (or thirtieth) things you try don't help, and you have to dig deep to keep seeking out alternatives.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><strong>3. Career</strong></span><br />
<br />
Ouch. This was a sore subject <a href="http://www.downfromtheledge.com/2010/12/can-you-hear-rent-theme-song-this-is.html" target="_blank">not so long ago</a>. Anyone who has suffered through unemployment, financial ruin, and fruitless job interviews knows how hard it is to maintain hope in the face of what's been lost. You hold on one more day because tomorrow could be the day it all turns around...and sometimes, that actually happens.<br />
<br />
I just had my 1-year anniversary at a job that gives me a sense of purpose, along with decent pay and hours. I could still be filled with bitter resentment over the career I lost, but <a href="http://www.downfromtheledge.com/2012/08/whyyoushouldgiveuphope.html" target="_blank">instead I am happy to have -A- job</a>, because I remember what it's like to be endlessly job-hunting. <br />
<br />
<strong><span style="font-size: large;">4. Financial</span></strong><br />
<br />
Let's just say I was still sleeping on an air mattress last year because I was too afraid of buying a bed and having to move it again. If that doesn't tell you everything about how precarious my financial situation was, I don't know what will!<br />
<br />
Having a nice balance in the savings account is a huge relief. So is having a big girl bed. <br />
<br />
<strong><span style="font-size: large;">5. Spiritual</span></strong><br />
<br />
This one isn't easy for me, because I can't feel the hopelessness that enveloped me a year ago. What's more, I don't want to try to remember. The simple fact that I am not in complete and utter despair every waking moment says it all. <br />
<br />
I know what it's like to have every single one of these 6 domains come crashing down at once, and I'm sure many of you have been there as well. Grasping to find something - anything - worth getting out of bed for is a shitty place to be in.<br />
<br />
I haven't found any answers, and I haven't found God. But I have found meaning again through helping other people who are in the place I was. <br />
<br />
<strong><span style="font-size: large;">6. Personal Development/Hobbies</span></strong><br />
<br />
Thanks to <a href="http://www.activerelease.com/" target="_blank">A.R.T. treatments</a>, I was able to get back on the bike a little bit last summer. I can only hope that my leg continues to progress. <br />
<br />
And blogging...I'm writing this post, aren't I? I bought a domain, spiced up the look of DFTL, and increased my posts to an average of twice a month. Have I done all I set out to do with this space? Ab-so-lute-ly NOT! And yes, I could easily focus on how far I have yet to go. But now, just for the moment, I have to be grateful for what steps I've taken.<br />
<br />
<br />
<em><strong><span style="font-size: large;">Think back to your biggest problems 1 year ago today....</span></strong></em><br />
<br />
What questions were you grappling with? Undoubtedly, some of your fears are still nagging you, many problems have since been resolved, and others .... are in process. <br />
<br />
That's the real message here; there IS no endpoint. You may be further along than you thought you'd be, or even miles off track, but it's pretty unlikely that you're exACTLY where you were a year ago. <br />
<br />
We all know the "life is a journey" cliches; we comprehend that "the trail is the thing, not the end of the trail." But beneath that? We secretly long for that day when we've got our shit figured out so we can sit on our rears, put our feet up, and quit worrying about every little thing. <br />
<br />
That day is not going to come.<br />
<br />
That being said, you'd better start giving yourself a little credit for how far you've come. <br />
<br />
What is the point of racking up accomplishments if you never take a breath and acknowledge how effing awesome it is that you pulled it off?<br />
<br />
Since you're never going to get "THERE" - that magic destination - what are some ways you can begin to relax into whereever you're at right now, today, and be at peace with that?<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
downfromtheledgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02324597207878500097noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8572878393350853164.post-86045984757593630782013-02-17T23:39:00.000-06:002013-04-06T10:51:38.234-05:00On the Suicide of Mindy McCreadyI hadn't really planned on posting tonight. But when it comes to suicide, the only one planning on it is the one that's gone.<br />
<br />
As morbid proof of that very fact, one of the first news reports I saw tonight stated:<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b>"There is cause to find that there is clear and convincing evidence that Respondent is in imminent danger of harm to herself or others, suicidal or gravely disabled....</b></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b>...But just a day later McCready was released to undergo outpatient treatment instead."<br />-<a href="http://www.chicagotribune.com/entertainment/sns-rt-mindy-mccready-musicmt1thewrap78061-20130217,0,7279940.story" target="_blank">Chicago Tribune </a></b></blockquote>
<br />
Every day in this world, there are psychiatrists and nurses and therapists charged with the burden of determining whether someone "means it." Whether they're just looking for attention, or whether a secret plan lies behind their eyes. <br />
<br />
I guarantee you that no one likes having to be that person. I have BEEN that person, and let me tell you, the weight of the whole world is on your shoulders for that judgment call.<br />
<br />
And sometimes people get it wrong. Really wrong. <br />
<br />
Sometimes the best actors are the people who are dead serious. Who have already decided, and who know what to tell the people in charge of those decisions.<br />
<br />
Should I have been released by the crisis counselors in <a href="http://www.downfromtheledge.com/2010/12/on-eve-of-my-3rd-anniversary.html" target="_blank">Nashville</a> when I had a 3-fold plan, and had already started carrying out half the damn thing? I should think not. But I was. <br />
<br />
Would I have said anything it took in order to avoid being locked up? I would, and I did. <br />
<br />
And so I was driven by a police officer back to my hotel, where my luggage containing a dozen pill bottles and a shard of glass remained, the day after sending suicide notes to two people. <br />
<br />
I put someone in the godawful position of gambling with my life. Thankfully they were right, and I was wrong. <br />
<br />
So tonight is just a reminder that every suicide I hear about for the rest of my life will take me back to that place, and that week, and the people who made me feel that I was nothing to nobody. <br />
<br />
And tonight is also a reminder that EVERYbody is somebody to someone. Everyone who dies by suicide is someone's best friend, or mother, or colleague, or son.<br />
<br />
Sometimes it's somebody "special," like a celebrity. But to those left behind, it doesn't matter if you had a million fans...or just one. <br />
<br />
I remember cleaning the house on Saturday mornings as a teenager, belting out "<a href="http://www.iheart.com/artist/Mindy-McCready-31319/songs/Have-A-Nice-Day-5897543/" target="_blank">Have a Nice Day</a>," my all-time favorite song of Mindy's. <br />
<br />
Now I read the words to another of her songs, so devastating in light of <a href="http://www.usatoday.com/story/life/music/2013/02/17/mindy-mccready-dead-suicide/1926849/" target="_blank">today's news</a>:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<br /><i>"I'm still here</i><i>There was darkness, all around me</i><i>There were times I was sure I was drowning</i><i>There were people, who tried to reach me</i><i>But no matter how they loved me, I kept sinking</i><i>I got tired of my own hell, I reached inside and I saved myself"</i></blockquote>
<br />
Many of us will fight the battle. Some will lose. <br />
<br />
Some will never find the love, the hope, or the strength to keep a self-destructive mind at bay. <br />
<br />
And it doesn't matter if you're a famous blond with a beautiful voice....or a random person milling about the streets of any town. <br />
<br />
At the end of the day, we are left with our thoughts, and our pasts, and our traumas that are ours alone to deal with. <br />
<br />
And the truth is, until you've walked in someone's shoes, you could never possibly know the kind of pain that would push someone to that choice. <br />
<br />
The truth is, if we all had a little more compassion - and a little less judgment - for those among us who are fading before our very eyes, we might possibly end up being the one who made all the difference. <br />
<br />
So take a look around you at the people in your life that are still here. Who you're ignoring. Or neglecting. Who you see struggling and never know what to say, so you stop speaking to. Who are putting on a happy face for you because they know you cannot tolerate their real feelings. <br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>You don't need. To say. Anything. </b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>You don't need. To have. Any answers. </b></span></div>
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i style="color: #741b47; font-size: x-large;">"When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives mean the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares." </i></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><div style="text-align: center;">
~Henri Nouwen</div>
</span></blockquote>
<br />downfromtheledgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02324597207878500097noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8572878393350853164.post-19515027436533566942013-02-10T18:23:00.000-06:002013-02-10T18:53:03.722-06:00Pain, hope, and the co-existence of the two<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The past 6 weeks of my life have revolved around a singular focus: pain. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">(Or rather, its elimination.)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It's the first thing there when I open my eyes, the last thing I try to push out of my brain as I lay there pleading for sleep to take me out, and my constant companion throughout each and every day.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">After 5 years of dealing with a chronic right hip/sciatic/SI joint condition, I'm no stranger to pain. But right around Christmas I hurt my back, and have now been dealing with muscle spasms and left hip pain on top of the "usual" pain I've grown accustomed to living with. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Most people would never know that I'm dealing with it on a daily basis. You know those life-sucking vultures who latch onto every ear they can find and whine about every ache and pain? Or the giant babies who become incapacitated by a mere headache?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Well, I can't stand them, and I have no desire to join their ranks. There are a lot of people out there suffering quietly and doing their best to cope, rather than exploiting their ailments for attention and sympathy. By no means is either category of person braver, more valiant, or superior to the other....I just don't see the point in complaining. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">But this post isn't about those people, and it isn't really about my problem, either. It's about figuring out how to hold onto some tiny shred of hope when you're in the trenches with it. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">When there's nothing there but you and the pain. When you can't escape it, because it IS you. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">When you've tried it all, and exhausted the treatment options, and still it remains...what's next? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">When every step forward is followed by two steps back, where do you look for hope? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">When you're the one you can't fix...what then?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/6BU-1ukQ3vo?list=UUDPM_n1atn2ijUwHd0NNRQw" width="560"></iframe></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I've had my moments here lately. Moments when I just can't see it. Moments when I just want to give up, regress into the emotional fetal position, and dissolve into self-pity and helplessness.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Waking up in the middle of the night in pain and bawling for an hour straight.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Crying at my physical therapist's office. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It wasn't so much that <i>one </i>setback after weeks of gradual improvement; it was one <i>more</i> setback. One more setback on top of the hundred others. The ups, the downs, the times when you think you're finally on your way to getting better, only to wind up back where you started. It gets that much harder each and every time you have to drag yourself back up to fight another fight. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I should be a fucking professional at this by now. After all the days and weeks and years where I thought about killing myself every single blessed day, I should have the answer to pain. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">But as my friend Therese at <a href="http://www.theunlost.com/life-in-general/this-life-is/" target="_blank">The Unlost</a> reminds us, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">"All of life, it seems,<br />is a process:<br />A process of un-learning and re-learning,<br />forgetting and remembering,<br />slumbering and waking up,<br />again,<br />and again,<br />and <i>again</i>."</span></b></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">So I'm trying my best to remember how to keep getting up out of bed, and keep looking for ways to cope, and keep not giving up. Because I don't get a choice. No one asked me if I wanted this pain. It just is. And I have to work with it, and breathe with it, and lie with it, and if it never gets better, maybe even die with it. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Since I can't escape from it, shouldn't I have stopped trying to by now?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Whether the pain you're dealing with is physical or emotional, there is really only one thing to do: sit with it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">"And so you sit with that feeling; you let it in. As much as you can bear it, you let it be. For a moment it encompasses you like you feared it would...but still you let it stay, even when every fiber of your being wants to run like hell...</span></b></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">A<span style="font-weight: bold;">nd although the feeling is still there, it becomes smaller, less encompassing, less real. And you start to realize that it's not so life-ending, after all."</span></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>-</b><a href="http://www.theunlost.com/life-in-general/one-weird-way-to-escape-heartbreak-loneliness-or-any-dreaded-feeling/" style="font-weight: bold;" target="_blank">Therese, The Unlost</a></span></blockquote>
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downfromtheledgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02324597207878500097noreply@blogger.com50tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8572878393350853164.post-25649042677262972592013-01-01T23:36:00.000-06:002013-01-01T23:37:35.868-06:00I want my body back, body back, body back....<br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I want my body back.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I want my 16-year-old body back, the hundred-thirty-pound-mass with "giant calves" and "thunder thighs." Give me THAT body back so I can try to hate it now. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I want my 18-year-old body back, the one I felt huuuuge in if the scale approached numbers like, oh, say...138. "Yeah, you're a real porpoise. Downright obese," I would tell that stupid girl who said those stupid fucking things to herself. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I want my 20-year-old body back, the one that seemed enormous in lingerie. The one that was always over-endowed in the wrong areas and lacking in all the right ones. Give me back THAT body, that I tortured into submission with all the jogging and biking and workout videos, never quite reaching perfection in. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I want my 22-year-old body back, the hundred-twenty-big-fat-pounds I strategically covered in blankets and turned off the lights to have sex in. Let me hide it and cover it in shame now, cringing in self-recrimination for my failure to measure up to my <a href="http://www.downfromtheledge.com/2012/12/recovering-from-your-boyfriends-porn.html" target="_blank">porn-addicted boyfriend's</a> expectations. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I want my 24-year-old body back, the one guys were attracted by, but I was repulsed by. Give me back the opportunity to rebuff compliments and reject every nice thing anyone ever said about me as delusional. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I want my 26-year-old body back, the one I rode across the entire state of Iowa in on <a href="http://ragbrai.com/" target="_blank">RAGBRAI</a>, and trained for a half-marathon in. Let me remember what it's like to hate being a size 9, so I can recall the distorted thought process that minimized every accomplishment in favor of continued self-loathing.</span><br />
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<br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I want my 27-year-old body back, the one my boyfriend told, "Well...there's the weight thing...but you can *<i>change</i>* that." I want that moment back so I can tell him to fuck the fuck off, instead of telling myself that I am not worthy of love unless I am a size....who knows what the fuck size would have pleased him. </span></b></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I want THAT body back, the one I punished with relentless running after that breakup, to the point of serious injury. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Give me back the body that could run without pain, bike for hours, and recover in 24 hours, so I can remember how demented I was to abhor being healthy if no one could see my clavicle or ribcage. </span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I want all those days back I spent hating myself because I hated that body because I hated never feeling good enough. </span></b></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I want to trade in all these years I have actually BEEN fat for all the years I just BELIEVED I was ginormous. I promise not to take it for granted this time around if I can just trade in these fat rolls no Spanx can adequately encase for the "revolting" slight protrusion of my stomach I was so disgusted by. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Yeah. I want my body back. </span><br />
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downfromtheledgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02324597207878500097noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8572878393350853164.post-64134126071272799892012-12-30T07:26:00.000-06:002012-12-30T07:26:26.207-06:00Recovering from your boyfriend's porn addiction<br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When you're 16 and your boyfriend tacks pictures of naked girls above his bed, you shrug it off as typical. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You may not like it, but the culture insists it is normal, and therefore to be expected and accepted. You can't keep your hands off each other, and the sex is great, </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">so what's a few dirty pics when he's obviously crazy about you.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: left;">
<b><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A few months later when you don't want to have sex one night and he starts holding you down and forcing you, you forgive him because he <i>did</i> stop eventually, after </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">all. When he sulks on the end of the bed and becomes uncommunicative, <i>you</i> start to feel bad for him and tell him it's alright (huh?), feeling somehow responsible for his shame.</span></b></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When he turns 19 and takes a road trip to the full nudity strip joint he can now get into, you get pissed that he goes despite how you feel about it, but shove your </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">loathing down because society says this is a rite of passage.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When you're 19 and he barely wants to have sex anymore after living together for only a year, you figure it's because he's depressed, and for sure things will get back </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">to the way it used to be in due time.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When you have to go to bed alone with no affection every night while he stays up late and watches porn, you know it's sick that you listen at the bedroom door to hear </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">what he's watching, but can't stop yourself from needing proof. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When you find out a bunch of your mutual friends lied to you when they said they were going out for drinks but were actually taking him to a strip club, you wonder how </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">many other betrayals there have been, and what all has been done behind your back.</span><br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When he blocks you from leaving the room during arguments, holds you down despite your screams, and chokes you until you can't breathe, you realize how naive every </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">girl is in thinking they have a chance of fighting off a guy. You stay because you blame yourself for your own temper, somehow believing you deserve it, despite the </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">fact that you never once hurt HIM. </span></b></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When you're told that you're a crazy psycho bitch for going through his things, 99% of you knows that people who have nothing to hide hide nothing, but your </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">self-worth is so low that you buy into the emotional abuse.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When you're 20 and he keeps telling you he's saving up for a ring, but you come across hidden stashes of money in a box of nasty magazines, you try to tell yourself </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">that of course glossy sex objects are not more worthwhile than marrying you, not really believing it at all.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When you're a cute 125 pound girl who jogs every day and keeps herself up for a lazy sloth who stays skinny without so much as ever working up a sweat, you start to </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">question why you can never measure up to the images he pleasures himself to, while he walks around feeling great about his own body.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When you get so disgusted by it all one night that you box up all his treasured collections and make a trip to the recycling station, but his loser friend helps him </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">fish the magazines out of the public recyling kiosk the next day, you realize exactly how precious this shit really is to him. You remember the night you were so sick </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">you couldn't move from the floor outside the bathroom, and he stepped over you like some animal, refusing to bring you a blanket. You try not to get bitter that you </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">took care of him every time he was sick and secretly feel like the most worthless human being in the world calling someone from an hour away to take you to the </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">hospital because your own fiance doesn't give a shit about you. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When you buy a computer for school, you try not to be angry that he's now spending more time with fake women on a screen, because admitting </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">that someone would choose to get themselves off every day rather than have a relationship with a live human being is a little too...humiliating.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When he wants you to look the way the porn actresses look and tries to make you feel like a frigid prude when you don't want to engage in painful sex acts in order to </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">fulfill all of his fantasies, you hate his fucking guts but can't help questioning if you're so boring in bed that "normal" sex isn't good enough anymore. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When he stops going places with you in favor of staying home to touch himself, you silently fume to yourself over doing every fucking thing in the household with no </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">help while someone values jacking off more than they value time with you.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When you swing around the block one day after leaving and quietly sneak down the hall of the apartment building only to spring in unexpected and catch him watching a </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">revolting video, you attempt to drag him out from under the desk where he's trying to unplug the computer, but he overpowers you in his desperation to hide what he's </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">doing.</span><br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When he lies to your face repeatedly and promises to stop but only gets more skilled at hiding his stash and clearing the cache, </span></b></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b><i><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">you finally get that there's one thing </span></span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">he thinks is worth fighting for in this relationship, and it's not you. </span></span></i></b></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When you find incest porn of two preteen sisters molesting each other on the computer YOU got with YOUR scholarship money, you are horrified at the thought of what </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">kind of sicko you have been sleeping with, and can't help thinking, "For every mouse you see, there's 20 you don't."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When you finally accept that you will never respect yourself if you continue to stay with this person, you move out with the last shred of dignity you have left, </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">embarrassed that you have to call your dad to help because he keeps throwing out all the boxes you bring home to move.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When he tells you he's addicted to porn and seeing a counselor because he wants to be a better man, you willingly play the part of the fool, trying to make </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">it work so that the last 7 years of your life will not have been a waste. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When he puts zero effort into changing but keeps trying to make you have sex, you feel somehow <i>guilty</i> but still can't go through with it, because the thought of his </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">touch now gives you the creeps.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When you stay at his place one night and find multiple personal ads and sex profiles on adult friend finder websites, you decorate his apartment with all of your </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">findings and cut off all communication, realizing once and for all that you have to trust yourself and your own instincts above anyone else.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When you print out his sex profiles and take them to his workplace to tape up in the breakroom so that everyone can see the bastard for who he really is, you let the </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">chick at work dissuade you (and regret it the rest of your life).</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When you find out months later that he's not just a disgusting pervert, but also a thief who stole thousands from his company, you feel mortified to have spent so many </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">years with the lowlife just because you were afraid no one else would love you. </span><br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When you spend the next 10 years struggling with your lack of self worth and end up in relationships with other emotional abusers who demean and berate you, you tell </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">yourself that it must be something wrong with you, and give up on being loved because you never feel good enough for anyone. </span></b></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When you look back at the detached way you wrote your own story as if wishing it wasn't your own, you know that most people will think it's absolutely fucking stupid to be so bothered by porn, because they haven't lost their own sex life to a bunch of videos and magazines. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When you think about the person you would be now if he had never come into your life, you vaguely recall how warm and loving you used to be before some selfish fuck </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">treated you like shit, knowing all the while that it was your own choice to keep sticking around for more. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When you realize you've written about being undone by your boyfriend's porn addiction instead of recovering from it, you think of all the times you've heard that porn </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">is harmless, knowing the damage is yours alone to deal with.</span><br />
downfromtheledgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02324597207878500097noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8572878393350853164.post-72279034327022670592012-12-11T08:49:00.000-06:002012-12-11T09:07:08.704-06:00Self-Esteem, Self-Worth...or C) None of the Above<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"I'm going to ask a question that will probably shock everyone in this room that I'm asking....you know, it all sounds great on the surface, but when you look a little closer at your resume, there's a year here, a year there, and it doesn't seem like you've stayed any place for very long...can I ask why?" --Interviewer (2 weeks ago)</span></b></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have answered this question, in all its various forms, time and time again. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have concocted versions of the truth, and flat-out lies. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have summoned confidence I don't really possess to emphasize all the right things, instead of all the things that make me look bad. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But the truth is, it doesn't matter.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The 7 years that I *was* with the same employer....they don't matter. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Straight A's and Summa Cum Laude? Doesn't matter. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The 3 extra years I spent earning a Master's? High school dropouts make more than I do right now.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Volunteering and going the extra mile? Don't make me laugh.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It is my fault. I am the one who left the job where I was making good money in return for being treated like shit. It was my decision to stand up for myself, my decision to quit, and my decision to drive to <a href="http://www.downfromtheledge.com/2010/12/on-eve-of-my-3rd-anniversary.html" target="_blank">Nashville</a> to kill myself. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The problem, ironically, is that I didn't kill myself. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The way this has fucked up my life...well, it just makes me wish I had. Choosing to live has ruined my life. Years of unemployment and suicidal depression...the ensuing <a href="http://www.downfromtheledge.com/2010/12/unemployment-and-downward-spiral.html" target="_blank">downward spiral</a>....</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Through it all, I haven't <a href="http://www.downfromtheledge.com/2011/07/knowing-when-to-give-up.html" target="_blank">given up</a>. Through all the dismissal and rejection, I plodded through <a href="http://www.downfromtheledge.com/2010/12/can-you-hear-rent-theme-song-this-is.html" target="_blank">five hundred twenty-five thousand job applications</a> until one day - yes! - one day, it all paid off....</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There is so much more dignity in being underemployed, rather than just unemployed. Even though my degree is worth twice what I am making, at least I am in the field. I can always console myself with that when I think of trash collectors making double my income. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's not that I wasn't bitter before this job interview two weeks ago; it's that I forgot how bitter I was, being fortunate enough to have a job to go to every day. I was dumb enough to go out on a limb and apply for the position my degree tells me I am qualified for....and end up rejected once again. The irony is, I was feeling more confident than ever because I finally have 9 months of steady employment in my field with great references! So much for that. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">At least I gave it a shot. Yes, it made me feel like absolute shit afterwards, but what doesn't. The important thing is that I had the self-worth to believe I deserved it...for a moment, anyway. </span><br />
<br />downfromtheledgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02324597207878500097noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8572878393350853164.post-45230578926554904052012-11-21T18:25:00.001-06:002012-11-21T18:25:43.520-06:00Lonely on Thanksgiving<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">"There are a lot of people out there in a lot of pain." --(One of my old professors)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">An obvious-sounding statement, isn't it? And yet profound. If you stop to think of all the people out there right now who are hurting, and lonely, or even desperate this (or any) time of year, the magnitude of that sadness is really astounding. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">So if you are one of those who feels forgotten, abandoned, or alone this week...this post is for you. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Maybe you will be spending Thanksgiving with a house full of people, but are drowning in your own private world of sorrow. Maybe you are completely isolated and terrified that life will never change. Maybe your family is broken and your holidays are a searing reminder of the happy gatherings you no longer get to have. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Wherever life finds you, I wish you the strength to make it through the tough days like this. I can't muster any sunshine & roses speeches, because I don't feel sunny and rosy right now. There will be other people on other blogs spreading joy for you to capture if that is your wish. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">There are others of us just trying to deal. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I was just reading a post over at </span><a href="http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/the-introverts-corner" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">The Introvert's Corner</span></a><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> called "</span><a href="http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/the-introverts-corner/201211/introverts-and-the-loneliness-loop" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Introverts and the Loneliness Loop</span></a><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Dembling writes:</span><br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><strong>"We desire and require deep connections and would rather be lonely alone than in a crowd. But realistically, those deep connections are not easy to find, and if we get caught short and our only choice is superficial socializing or nothing, we can get lonely."</strong></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span> </blockquote>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I've been feeling that way a lot lately. I either sit at home by myself, or I go out with people and still feel just as lonely afterwards. It's been a lot of years since I've had a 'best' friend or close relationship. And it's hard to feel fully yourself when no one else really knows you. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">At no time is that loneliness more magnified...than during holiday season. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">So if you find yourself here today, count yourself among friends.</span> downfromtheledgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02324597207878500097noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8572878393350853164.post-12613815991245104182012-10-20T09:41:00.000-05:002012-10-20T09:46:29.074-05:00Nashville<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivVPAItffhH-ovFJhdP-tNfaJxR7T-2kMG-r8lAa_VWz3p9mZ8yjfWFHQwB53ckUizhL6wvzcBxRjGqcPhdrH5a2y180BQtC2J6AnpyksJV3ywb0BH0js09bkfg9EvC9jjHamelXvNPME/s1600/Nashville.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivVPAItffhH-ovFJhdP-tNfaJxR7T-2kMG-r8lAa_VWz3p9mZ8yjfWFHQwB53ckUizhL6wvzcBxRjGqcPhdrH5a2y180BQtC2J6AnpyksJV3ywb0BH0js09bkfg9EvC9jjHamelXvNPME/s1600/Nashville.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It's that time of year again. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Burnt orange leaves are my drive through Tennessee. Gray, windy days are the cold blanket around me as I walked the streets of Nashville in my own private bubble of pain. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The songs I played, the food I ate, the view from my downtown hotel: all vivid memories that start to replay when the weather turns like this. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And then there's last night, when I'm watching the new show <a href="http://beta.abc.go.com/shows/nashville" target="_blank">Nashville on ABC</a>, unprepared for each shot of the city's sights to be a trigger. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I was thinking drama...and romance...and country music...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Instead, the characters walk the <a href="http://www.downfromtheledge.com/2010/12/on-eve-of-my-3rd-anniversary.html" target="_blank">Shelby Street Bridge</a>, and I'm <a href="http://www.downfromtheledge.com/2012/02/contemplating-suicide-why-you-shouldnt.html" target="_blank">back on it</a>. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I'm staring into the water wondering how many people have looked over this same ledge, wanting to end it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So I go back, but I don't. At least, not all the way in. There's a dividing line you have to create, where you can open the door and look in the room, but not shut yourself in there. I don't want to remember what that feels like. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">A few months have gone by now in which I don't think about killing myself every day. I wasn't sure life would ever surpass my secrets and my plans. Yet, here I am. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Every day I talk to people who are exactly where I was, sometimes to an eerie degree. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The other day I worked with a man who had gone from independence and a career ... to losing everything and living in chronic pain that hurts with each step he takes. He didn't see any hope for his situation to change, couldn't remember what it was like to be proud of his life. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It felt familiar. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Trapped without a way out, abandoned by your friends, betrayed by those you love...everyone thinks they're above suicide, until suddenly it becomes the most rational option you can think of. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The question is: how do we survive our own minds with the torture of constant pain? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">How do we hold onto the 1/10th of 1 percent that wants to believe that the pain <i>might</i> someday end, when 99.99999% of our brain is trying to kill us? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Do we gamble on the unknown that is the future, or wear the certainty of death? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Thankfully, thankfully, the future is always a mystery. Thankfully, I found a way to hold on during the 1/10th. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">"Faith is the bird that sings when the dawn is still dark." </span></i></b></blockquote>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">-Rabindranath Tagore</span></i></b></blockquote>
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<br />downfromtheledgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02324597207878500097noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8572878393350853164.post-51547697823585470282012-09-26T22:44:00.000-05:002012-09-26T22:54:29.582-05:00Violated by my cat. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimkGRaSZrm-_lLLJ0rrYqMBHn0wPMdT5sukUAXUBzpk6c8TdoPTl0Qq864bIXWZ_unMD2dZg4D5V34kJ5bJh_o2DEp59oxfbQikFOfHO4wTaZSdZO1QsatjqnsIWRAyPEkWv3cUKh2cMk/s1600/MooChill.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimkGRaSZrm-_lLLJ0rrYqMBHn0wPMdT5sukUAXUBzpk6c8TdoPTl0Qq864bIXWZ_unMD2dZg4D5V34kJ5bJh_o2DEp59oxfbQikFOfHO4wTaZSdZO1QsatjqnsIWRAyPEkWv3cUKh2cMk/s640/MooChill.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">My cat just licked my nipple. I then proceeded to snort toothpaste out of my nose.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
</span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Me: Innocently standing in front of the vanity brushing my teeth.</span></b></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Cat: Hmm. What's this object pointed at me?</span></b></blockquote>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">First of all, I'm pissed that she waited 4 years to tell me she was a lesbian. Did she think I would judge her?</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Secondly, I'd like her to go back to her usual inappropriate behavior, like sticking her nasty cat lips on my bathroom cup or trying to lick sweat out of my belly button after a run. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Even the times she tricks me into thinking there is a hazelnut on the floor and then laughs when I scream and throw her turd across the room...even then I tell myself that this is how normal cats entertain themselves. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Or other times when she uses the carpet as toilet paper and smears a 4-foot long poop streak across the floor like Toby in the Stanley Steemer commercial...did I punt her into outer space? No I didn't. Because what else can I expect from someone with 3-inch long ass hair. Really.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><iframe allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/eOtqw_IEGh0" width="420"></iframe><br /></span>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">You'd think I'd be happy, since nobody else has been licking my nipple in recent history. </span></span><br />
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</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Nope, not happy. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Creeped out. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">On a positive note, it makes me feel progressive to own her, since we will probably join <a href="http://pflag.org/" target="_blank">PFLAG</a> to advocate for lesbian cat rights.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">On the other hand, I know it's bestiality when humans molest animals, but I don't know what to call this incident when I go seek counseling for it. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Can you go around telling people your cat licked your nipple? No you can't. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">So consider yourself privileged.</span></span><br />
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</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">(Incidentally, <a href="http://www.urbandictionary.com/" target="_blank">Urban Dictionary</a> defines turd as: "Generally, a log-shaped piece of shit. Nevertheless, they are also found in coil-shape, mushroom-cloud shape, and even loch ness monster shape.")</span><br />
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downfromtheledgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02324597207878500097noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8572878393350853164.post-7195152274545680072012-09-03T23:03:00.000-05:002012-09-05T18:37:41.933-05:00Cock-eyed hairy bunghole. <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It was so blissful to sleep through the night last night. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Not because a crying baby normally jars me from a peaceful slumber; I'm nobody's mama. Not because my cat can't figure out how to plug the power cord back into my printer so she can wake me up with the "urr-EEEEER" of her scanning out pictures of her hairy bunghole, or whatever she thinks is so goddang funny to wake me up with at 4 in the morning.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">No, it was simply nice to not have to blow my nose thirty times or wake up repeatedly from my throat hurting, because that's how I got to spend the other two nights of my lovely three-day weekend.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It wasn't even a week prior I had <a href="http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/prescriptions-life/201208/is-getting-sick-the-way-you-say-no/comments" target="_blank">commented</a> on a post entitled, "<a href="http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/prescriptions-life/201208/is-getting-sick-the-way-you-say-no" target="_blank"><i>Is getting sick the way you say "no?" If you can't say no, your body often starts doing it for you.</i></a>" The irony doesn't escape me. I could feel it coming, though. And instead of taking a day off when I knew I needed it, I let the exhaustion seep into my pores until I was so thoroughly run down that my body made the decision for me. Time off got turned into misery, followed by recovery. Yaaay, life. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The thing is, there was nothing uniquely taxing about the past month. No 5-alarm crisis at work, no mountain of tasks taunting me at home. The string of seven dentist appointments and mention of the word "root canal" on my uninsured teeth? Sure, that was a *tad* stressful. Helping my mom move the past three weekends? Not my usual downtime for relaxation. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But truly? It doesn't take much more than the normal day-to-day shit of life to wear me down. Cleaning the bathroom and buying groceries and running mundane errands: this is the crap that does me in. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The required pace of life + my introverted personality = disaster.</span></b><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I'm not sure I get a choice in the matter, but unfortunately the mad rush of our society just isn't working for me. There are people that thrive on constant action - and <i><b>inter</b></i>action - but I'm not one of them. I figured out a long time ago that I was an introvert; unfortunately, that didn't include figuring out how to manage my own needs.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I'm starting to notice that, if I don't have at least one day a week where I don't have to go anywhere, do anything, or see anybody, I just can't function. Well...to be correct, I DO function, but in a far bitchier manner in which I resent all the time I should be unplugging from the demands of life. (This is another reason to be <a href="http://www.downfromtheledge.com/2012/08/whyyoushouldgiveuphope.html" target="_blank">thankful I don't have children</a>, because I would <b><i>never </i></b>get a break.)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I used to read <i>Gone With the Wind</i> and fantasize that one day I'd be out in the country with miles of green and my big wraparound porch, where I'd be lazing on my little wooden porch swing. Is it too late to marry a farmer? </span><br />
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<a href="http://media-cdn.tripadvisor.com/media/photo-s/02/9e/c8/38/view-from-the-porch-swing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="297" src="http://media-cdn.tripadvisor.com/media/photo-s/02/9e/c8/38/view-from-the-porch-swing.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">If you'll excuse me, I have to go pretend I don't hear scratchy noises causing mi gato to stare cock-eyed at the wall for the past hour. (Note: for the love of all things holy, do not <b>ever</b> do a google image search on "cock-eyed.") I think the correct way to describe it would have been: with her head cocked to one side. But the process of verifying that fact has left me with a horrifying visual disturbance. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Now be quiet and don't question my title ever again. </span>downfromtheledgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02324597207878500097noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8572878393350853164.post-86142956398262859052012-08-13T18:36:00.000-05:002012-08-13T18:36:58.174-05:00The home that wasn't.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXTeiWnV1nHFnApREFrwM_pMuAlkM4pfaD_Bo2-n1jjgxn_kzDOlXxsAwxaDT5KsQdyxDSWl45y8wH1lc0_q9arurFKYoegs_Q7RnPHLo2H_JvEu7rPt0GFpZaClhFfYFTlNpn9O5Jbvw/s1600/house.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXTeiWnV1nHFnApREFrwM_pMuAlkM4pfaD_Bo2-n1jjgxn_kzDOlXxsAwxaDT5KsQdyxDSWl45y8wH1lc0_q9arurFKYoegs_Q7RnPHLo2H_JvEu7rPt0GFpZaClhFfYFTlNpn9O5Jbvw/s1600/house.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After writing just a few short days ago about relative <a href="http://www.downfromtheledge.com/2012/08/whyyoushouldgiveuphope.html" target="_blank">happiness and contentment with my life</a>, I spent most of Sunday bursting into random, unexpected crying jags. Like an open palm smacking me dead in the chest, the reality of my <a href="http://www.thelastbrokenhome.com/teenage-depression-1/" target="_blank">broken home</a> periodically knocked the wind out of me. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Saturday I helped my mom clear things out of the home I grew up in, the same one my dad <a href="http://www.downfromtheledge.com/#!/2011/12/merry-christmas-divorce-is-final.html" target="_blank">moved out of</a> six months ago. No matter how old you are, home is home. And you want it there to go back to. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You're never old enough to stop wishing it would all work out...somehow. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You're never old enough to stop wanting the smell of roast at Sunday dinners, the security of your old bedroom (just in case), the safety of that one place in the world where you belong no matter what. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I think about how hard each of my parents worked their whole lives, only to start over at (what should be) retirement age with half of what they had. I think about the seven-year relationship I dragged myself out of, and wondered what kind of strength one has to conjure to close the door on forty years. I think about how lonely it must feel to lose the partner you've had since you were a teenager. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Their sadness, though well-hidden, makes me sadder than my own sadness. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A divorce is the final decree on the matter of whether you get to have a happy family. Until the decision is handed down, you are free to entertain the fantasy that one day - yes, one day - resentments will be abandoned, bitterness will be overcome, and wrongs will be forgiven. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You're free to ponder the unknown because it's still unknown.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Until one day it isn't. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One day the pre-existing factions within your family quake into full-blown fault lines. </span><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The alliances that festered through the years persist long after the dust settles on the end of a marriage, splitting your family into </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">divided loyalties.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There was no glamorous affair, no knock-down drag-out fight, just a fading gloom that quietly disappeared into the night. Without a clear-cut reason, I sometimes find myself forgetting why it is they're not together anymore. I wonder if <i>they</i> know, either. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When the last box is taped shut and hauled away, you're left standing there with the reality of the situation.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What you thought was a broken home reveals itself, instead, to be an empty home. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Where there could have been joy or love or happy times...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">... is the ghost of a family that used to be...</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">...a</span><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">nd a home that's </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">never going to be -home- again. </span>downfromtheledgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02324597207878500097noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8572878393350853164.post-26034058750687378992012-08-10T17:57:00.000-05:002012-08-10T18:07:56.627-05:00Why you should give up hope.<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Life is pretty damn good lately. There are times I even catch myself thinking, "Wow, I actually feel kind of okay. Is this happiness?" </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Don't get me wrong: there are a lot of things I don't have - that I thought I would - at 32 years old. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: large;">I don't have a relationship. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">BUT I also don't have a sh*tty relationship.</span> </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">No one lies to me, makes my life miserable, or expects me to do everything for them. No emotional roller coaster, no divorce, no broken home. Could be worse. Has been worse!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: large;">I don't have a family. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">BUT....I DON'T HAVE KIDS!!!</span> </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Let's face it, that's a shit-ton less work for me! I get eight - or more - hours of sleep a night. This fact alone makes me a much nicer person. I'm sure there are awesome guys out there who would actually do 50% of the housework, but none of them have proposed to me yet. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: large;">I don't have a prestigious career. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: large;">BUT I don't have a job I hate.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I don't work 70 hours a week at a job that sucks the life out of me, with no time left for the things I want to do. I have a great schedule doing work I enjoy, with people I enjoy, and relatively low stress. Having experienced the opposite, there's a lot to be said for this. </span><br />
<br />
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<strong><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">IF</span></strong></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><strong>Forgiveness = giving up the hope that the past could be different than it was,</strong></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><strong><span style="font-size: x-large;">THEN</span></strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><strong>Happiness = giving up the hope that the present could be different than it is.</strong></span> </span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">The moment I descend into self-flagellation over what I could be doing, or should be doing, or what everyone else is doing, I become immediately dissatisfied with my life. This is another reason <a href="http://www.downfromtheledge.com/#!/2012/07/top-10-reasons-why-facebook-is-devil.html" target="_blank">why Facebook is the devil</a></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">. We often feel perfectly fine with ourselves until we start comparing our lives to all these people that *seem* to have something we don't. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">If I decided to wait until I had a boyfriend or a better job or financial prosperity to be happy, god only knows how long that might take. I have enough. And that's all I need. If I can't accept myself and my life and exactly the way things stand today, there's no hope for tomorrow. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">For every little thing you don't have - that you think you want - is something you *DON'T* have that you should be damn thankful for!! </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">So seriously, give up the hope that the next person who comes into your life is going to make you happy, give up the hope that a different job would make it all better, give up the hope that your family is going to get along one day...and see if you can figure out a way to accept exactly what's in front of you. If that fails, here's a quote to live by: </span><br />
<br />
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<strong><em><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">"I may not be where I wanna be yet, </span></em></strong></div>
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<strong><em><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">but I sure as hell ain't where I was!"</span></em></strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><blockquote class="tr_bq">
<br /><br /><strong><span style="font-size: large;">"We can piss away one more day being angry, and vengeful, and sad – about crap that’s gone by, and passed by, and no longer a part of ourselves or our future. Another day being afraid of so much, and hurt by so much, and less than our better selves because of it."</span></strong></blockquote>
<br /><br />Isn't that exactly what I did for 5 years? <br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;">I may as well have been in prison. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Hell, there IS no worse prison than our own minds. We sit there suffering day after day, waiting for someone to come let us out...only to find out one day that the door was never even locked.</span><br /><br />A friend of mine once blogged at "The Invisible Prison" (which she has since taken down, much to my dismay). There couldn't be a more fitting metaphor for suicidal depression. From the outside, no one can glean any possible reason for this self-imposed sentence. There are no bars, no chains, no guards...<br /><br />...yet we're not so much afraid that door will never open; we're afraid that it WILL, and we'll have to face the world once again.<br /><br /><span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="color: #741b47;">Follow</span> </span></span><a href="http://www.facebook.com/downfromtheledge"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">downfromtheledge on Facebook</span></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: #e69138;">Subscribe to downfromtheledge posts by e-mail: Click the "RSS" tab to the right>>></span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
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<br /></div>downfromtheledgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02324597207878500097noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8572878393350853164.post-12791340760698816902012-07-26T16:46:00.001-05:002012-08-02T12:24:12.566-05:00Shit<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">You know all that sh*t you keep putting off, and letting slide....</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">until you're like, sh*t, I can't put this sh*t off anymore.</span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMDPm0Sz7OqssJIy-hsJz2Yq01R-sphzuk51yrVCpQTomngyCW1lx_q6DVRk7APyrMKse59L_owqSQhFqMzkYutKTxR_Q8ah8cm7WvYt3uo23tgeRfe44SpEGhS2GNQNdMqgRS8Dmtf5g/s1600/picture.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMDPm0Sz7OqssJIy-hsJz2Yq01R-sphzuk51yrVCpQTomngyCW1lx_q6DVRk7APyrMKse59L_owqSQhFqMzkYutKTxR_Q8ah8cm7WvYt3uo23tgeRfe44SpEGhS2GNQNdMqgRS8Dmtf5g/s1600/picture.jpg" /></a><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Well, that's the sh*t I tackled today. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I was all, "I'm gonna get sh*t done today." </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I researched sh*t, and e-mailed sh*t, and looked up sh*t, but couldn't decide on sh*t. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">In the end </span><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I didn't accomplish sh*t. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">So now I have just as much sh*t to get done as I did yesterday. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Sh*t, I am sick of this sh*t.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Same sh*t happens when I go shopping.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">You go to the store with this whole list of sh*t, f*cking ecstatic that you finally got off your lazy ass to go get this sh*t, and you can't find one sh*tting thing off that piece of sh*t list. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Then you gotta turn around and go get the sh*t somewhere else aNOTHER day! </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Or you make the sh*t-head mistake of going clothes shopping. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">You look through tons of sh*t that's too young for your old ass, and sh*t that's too tight for your FAT ass, and get so tired of trying sh*t on that you wear your same ugly sh*t back home. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">This sh*t puts me in a sh*tty ass mood.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I thought, sh*t, might as well write a post cuz I ain't getting sh*t done, anyway. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I spent my whole day working on this sh*t and I don't have sh*t to show for it. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I don't know about you, but I've had it with this sh*t. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">What sh*t did YOU think you were gonna get done today? </span><br />
<br />
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<br />downfromtheledgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02324597207878500097noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8572878393350853164.post-91392069607117122102012-07-22T17:22:00.000-05:002012-07-29T01:54:20.278-05:00Am I A Coward For Blogging About Suicide Anonymously?<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">In December of 2009, I bared the first tiny bit of my soul to
the universe in "<a href="http://www.downfromtheledge.com/2009/12/this-too-shall-pass.html" target="_blank">This, Too Shall Pass?</a>"</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">There was no place in my
life where I could tell the truth about what led me down the path of suicide.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">So I created one for
myself. And for everyone else who didn't have a place, either.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">In real life, you can't
tell people to STFU when their idea of" helping" you is spouting some
cliché like,<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>"God never
gives us more than we can handle."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">In this blog,<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>I can say whatever I want...because I
do it anonymously. Which means I don't have to deal with stigma. And judgment.
And rejection.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<strong><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">ANONYMOUS=GUTLESS
???</span></span></strong><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">In a perfect world, I
wouldn’t be shamed into silence for my feelings. I could speak openly about
what I have been through, what led me to the brink, and how I found my way
back.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span> I could look forward to
compassion and understanding ... instead of condemnation. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">But that is not the world
we live in. It is a world where people believe it is easier to die than to be
looked upon with the stigma of mental illness.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">It is a
world where people internalize the hatred of everyone around them and <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/04/17/kenneth-weishuhn-gay-iowa-teen-suicide_n_1431442.html" target="_blank">pull the trigger</a>.</span> </div>
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<b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">BUT. Can I keep hiding forever? </span><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">All the lying and pretending that <a href="http://www.downfromtheledge.com/2012/07/my-representative.html" target="_blank">alienates me from myself as much as others</a></span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> … isn’t that
precisely what got me into this mess to begin with??? </span><span style="background-color: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">BUT. Can I afford NOT to
keep hiding?</span><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Some, like<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><a href="http://thebloggess.com/?s=depression+lies" target="_blank">The Bloggess</a>,
write courageously about their battles with depression. Others, like<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><a href="http://www.ted.com/talks/jd_schramm.html?source=facebook#.UAN_WQPcXMp.facebook" target="_blank">JD Schramm</a>, have broken the silence by bravely sharing how
they survived a suicide attempt<i>.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">But what
about people who don't have a well-established career and hefty savings account
to fall back on if honesty backfires?</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">So I brought my dilemma to
<a href="http://blog.penelopetrunk.com/" target="_blank">Penelope Trunk</a>, the authority on blogging about taboo subjects, and she asked
if she could publish her advice to me in her <a href="http://mailbag.penelopetrunk.com/2012/07/26/should-i-blog-under-my-own-name/" target="_blank">Mailbag</a>: </span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<em><b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">"You should blog
under your own name. Of all the things that are terrible, doing something this
good, that you are this devoted to - doing it anonymously is too close to a
metaphor for suicide. So you have to use your name. To do it anonymously is to
give up on everyone around you -- their ability to see the site and see you for
who you are. Your ability to be yourself in the world and be accepted. All that
stuff is really important given that the topic is suicide."</span></span></b></em></blockquote>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Now THAT, that made me
cry.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Because I
DO continue to split off (i.e. murder) the parts of myself that I can't quite
own.</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">And I
HAVE given up on every single person around me.</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">When I
try to think of 1 co-worker, 1 friend, 1 family member who I would even THINK
of telling that I write this blog, I don't anticipate acceptance as the
outcome.</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i><b>I know
what I stand to lose</b></i><b>:</b> my job, my credibility, future employability,
professional respect...and control. Not that I've ever HAD control over what
others think of me, but I DO control which parts of myself I share.</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i><b>What do I
stand to gain?</b></i> It's one thing to play the odds, but when it's all risk and no
reward, I can't help but think I would be a fool for rolling the dice.</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Fellow
blogger <a href="http://30yearoldninja.com/" target="_blank">Izzy</a></span> <span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">put it to me this way: </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<em><b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">"In regards to human
nature, most people are incredibly compelled by those that are willing to be
authentic. Your blog is an interesting combination because by not revealing
your identity you are able to completely hide yourself ... Yet, at the same
time, you completely reveal yourself." </span></span></b></em></blockquote>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Therein lies the conundrum. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Keep hiding…or come clean? Could you bear the exposure of people seeing
into your soul?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Follow <a href="http://www.facebook.com/downfromtheledge" target="_blank">downfromtheledge on Facebook</a>.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="color: orange; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Subscribe to downfromtheledge posts by e-mail: Click the "RSS" tab to the right>>></b></span></div>downfromtheledgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02324597207878500097noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8572878393350853164.post-34051955210253137212012-07-14T21:03:00.000-05:002012-07-27T22:53:20.905-05:00Top 10 Reasons Why Facebook Is The Devil<b style="background-color: white; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Does anybody like me? </i></span></b><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Does anyone give a flying rip what goes on in my life?<o:p></o:p></i></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><i>How (un)popular am I?</i></span></b><span style="font-size: x-small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">These are all questions we entrust <a href="http://www.facebook.com/downfromtheledge" target="_blank">Facebook</a> to answer
for us: from how cool we are (not), to how many people hang on our everyday
happenings. At this point in history, our
very worth as human beings comes down to that number in parenthesis after the
word “Friends.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">Despite posting recently about us being “<a href="http://www.theunlost.com/life-in-general/living-in-alien-nation-the-disconnection-of-the-masses/" target="_blank">the generation with 742 Facebook friends</a>,” my own current number is a lot closer to 7+4+2. Somewhere there is a rock in Indonesia with
more FB fans than me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><b>For one</b>, I have deleted my entire Friends-list
more times than anyone would probably believe….behavior that was a byproduct of
my “no one gives a sh*t about me” suicidal mentality. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><b>Secondly</b>, I end up removing nearly half of the people I
add because I either:</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">A) accept their request out of curiosity, then spy on them
for a day before deciding I don’t really know or like the person </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><b>OR </b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">B) decide
this person doesn’t need to know my thoughts or gawk at my profile out of
mentally ill paranoia </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><b>OR</b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">C) they’ve <a href="http://www.downfromtheledge.com/2012/07/worlds-too-effing-small.html" target="_blank">pissed me off</a> and can now proceed to go
f*ck themselves. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><b>Third</b>, I don’t participate in whatever competition the
world has going to see how many
acquaintences-of-acquaintances-of-acquaintences-of-friends (i.e.
stuh-RANGERS!!!) I can collect in order to impress people whose opinions I
could care less about. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><b>Lastly</b>, If 1-3 sounded like pathetic excuses for why I
am a loser with no friends, I’ll just come right out and demystify the issue: <a href="http://www.downfromtheledge.com/2011/12/holiday-blues.html" target="_blank">I AM a loser</a> and I <a href="http://www.downfromtheledge.com/2012/05/is-it-better-to-have-sucky-friends-or.html" target="_blank">DON’T really have any friends</a>. I’ve
<a href="http://www.downfromtheledge.com/2011/01/anytime-you-need-friend.html" target="_blank">chucked them all</a>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">As you can tell, I simultaneously imbue Facebook with both
waaaaay too much meaning and no importance whatsoever….what’s that quote to the
effect of:</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>“You wouldn’t care so much what people thought about you if you knew
how seldom they did.” </i></span></span></blockquote>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">But then, that’s
also precisely the point! No one thinks
about me! I have tons of shit I want to
say, and no one to say it to. Every time
something hilarious or annoying or awesome or disturbing happens, I think of
who I could tell and come up with – you guessed it – nobody. I could always post it on Facebook and then feel
<em>more</em> pathetic when nobody bothers to comment on it, right?!?!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><b><i><span style="font-size: large;">Top 10 Reasons Why Facebook Is The Devil:</span></i></b><u><o:p></o:p></u></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><b><i><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<ol>
<li><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><b>It does nothing but incite <i>envy</i>.</b></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">There will always be people with more good times
in their photo albums, more smiling beer-holding friends in their pictures, and
more exciting sh*t going on in their lives.</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><b>It does nothing but incite <i>fake-ness</i>.</b></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">You invest hours concocting the perfect
online persona, with carefully selected pictures and quotes and descriptions to
make yourself appear happier, cooler, hotter, smarter, funnier, and more
interesting than you really are.</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><b>It does nothing but incite <i>impulsivity</i>.</b></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">In a split second you tell 375 people
something you <i>reeeeallly</i> should’ve kept to yourself.</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"> </span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><b>It does nothing but incite <i>over-disclosure</i>.</b></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">You broadcast your least intelligent thoughts
to the world.</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">For some of us, this
reveals that we are illiterate backwoods dingdongs who can’t spell or string
together a coherent sentence (and by this I mean family).</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">And I quote: <i>“It is better to keep your mouth
shut and let people think you’re stupid, than to open it and remove all
doubt."</i></span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><b>It does nothing but incite <i>jealousy</i>.</b></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">You now have the ultimate <a href="http://www.downfromtheledge.com/2012/01/revenge-its-not-just-tv-show-on-abc.html" target="_blank">spy tool</a> to track
every fool your friends and (ex)boyfriends are in contact with and how much more
attention they pay to them than you.</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"> </span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><b>It does nothing but incite <i>rage</i>.</b> Seriously, that <a href="http://www.downfromtheledge.com/2012/07/worlds-too-effing-small.html" target="_blank">bitch</a> does something every
other week with so-and-so but never has time for ME? Screw her.
“Unfriend.” </span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><b>It does nothing but incite <i>picture-taking</i>.</b> I swear to
GOD I cannot figure out how a camera is present in every conceivable life
situation and WHO the hell is spending every waking moment taking pictures of
the dumbest stuff imaginable.</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"> </span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><b>It does nothing but incite <i>loneliness</i>. </b>Despite hundreds of connections, you couldn’t
possibly feel more <a href="http://www.downfromtheledge.com/2012/07/worlds-too-effing-small.html#!/2012/06/living-in-alien-nation.html" target="_blank">alone</a>. </span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><b>It does nothing but incite <i>hatred</i>.</b></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">I fucking hate Facebook, don’t YOU?</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><b>It does nothing but incite <i>desperation</i>.</b> So follow <a href="http://www.facebook.com/downfromtheledge" target="_blank">downfromtheledge</a> on Facebook. Please? </span></li>
</ol>
<br />
<br />downfromtheledgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02324597207878500097noreply@blogger.com34tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8572878393350853164.post-25006369479687143342012-07-11T00:01:00.000-05:002012-07-20T00:08:34.727-05:00Alien-Nation, Part 2: Breaking The Habit Of YOU<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Ever stopped to wonder if you’re doing what you’re doing
because it’s what you did yesterday (and the day before that, and the day
before THAT)? What percentage of the way
you interact with the world is your conscious choice, rather than your
programming? </span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"></span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">
</span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">Some would say we are the sum of our habits, and <a href="http://www.blogger.com/"><span id="goog_968124212"></span>Keith
Clarke<span id="goog_968124213"></span></a> </span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">is one of those people.
His blog </span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><a href="http://www.breakingthehabitofme.com/" target="_blank">Breaking The Habit of Me</a></span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">challenges us to take back the reigns. W</span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">hen Keith sat down to read my recent post <a href="http://www.downfromtheledge.com/2012/06/living-in-alien-nation.html" target="_blank">Living in Alien-Nation</a></span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">,
he decided his <a href="http://www.downfromtheledge.com/2012/07/my-representative.html" target="_blank">Representative</a> </span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">was no longer going to run his life. He didn’t just click a link in Google Reader,
peruse an article, and go back to doing exactly what he has always done. Keith instead chose to <a href="http://www.breakingthehabitofme.com/aboutme/" target="_blank">switch off the auto-pilot</a> </span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">and wrangle with some serious questions in today’s guest post. What have YOU lost by not showing up in your
own life? I hope you’ll join the
conversation:</span></span></div>
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<b><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><i>Scared To Reveal The True You? </i></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #4c1130;"><b><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>12 Reasons To Take Charge Of Your Representative</i></span></span></b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #4c1130;">I read two articles that have had a massive impact on
me. And I wondered - could they have a similar impact on you?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #4c1130;">I believe that these two articles outline a serious flaw
in the thinking habits of many of us. This thinking comes from a fear of being our
true selves because of the possibility of rejection by others.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #4c1130;">I know you are busy and I am asking you more than maybe
I should, but these are profoundly powerful insights that you should hear.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #4c1130;"><b><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">You need to read the two articles first or
what follows will have no context</span></b><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #4c1130;">The articles are<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><a href="http://www.downfromtheledge.com/2012/06/living-in-alien-nation.html" style="outline: 0px;" target="_blank" title="Living In Alien Nation">Living In
Alien Nation</a><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>and<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><a href="http://www.downfromtheledge.com/2012/07/my-representative.html" style="outline: 0px;" target="_blank" title="My Representative">My
Representative</a>.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #4c1130;"><b><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">My response:</span></span></b><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #4c1130;">(I have written this as a response to the author, and it
should be read in that context.)<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #4c1130;">I resonate so much with what you are saying but it
freaks me out - in a good and a bad way. Firstly, whatever I say following this
sentence is NOT meant to be patronizing (THAT is my representative speaking for
me).<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #4c1130; font-size: large;"><b><i><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">I
have spent my whole life in this place.</span></i></b><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #4c1130;">That is why your
two articles hit me so hard. Firstly, you are in no way alone [Note from my Representative: Remember earlier caveat]. Regrettably, I see this in many people,
including myself.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #4c1130;"><b><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">1. <span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Ulterior
Motives</span></b><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #4c1130;">Every one of us has them, and they are not always
nefarious. For example: Am I going to feel better about myself? Gain something
from this? Look good in someone’s eyes? Etc.
You included. We are human. We need validation. What is f#%ked up is we don't
look for our own validation first (or, we don't trust it).<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #4c1130;"><b><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">2. <span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Personal
Dysfunction or Societal Dysfunction?</span></b><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #4c1130;">It doesn't matter! You are self-aware enough to know the
'dysfunction' is there. That is evident. Whether you like it or not, it is up
to you now. The door is already open. And yes, you <u>are</u><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>happy</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>about
it now, because it is the comfort of the known. It is the unknown that scares
you.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #4c1130;"><b><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">3. <span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Rejection</span></b><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #4c1130;">Every rejection you received externally was firstly an
internal rejection that you just sought validation of externally. You expressed
yourself perfectly with: <i>"We all
have this dichotomy; it’s the human condition (though of course we are
convinced otherwise). What’s even worse than being unacceptable to
others…is being ashamed of your own feelings, and the mask you hide
behind."</i> So I <u>know</u> you know this, but bear with me :)<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPcys2MM2ZVXwCX4o4AsVY69jpvf3YipewcRioHoYnw2EcPNPMiWPrbYYWRz-O1viPsHUdAs5t2EBgJvTR47f95ZiRGrzvruGwhlWVNVWFoO0wIQVRCO6R5reDYavKMR-cGZMihX0lajw/s1600/rejected.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPcys2MM2ZVXwCX4o4AsVY69jpvf3YipewcRioHoYnw2EcPNPMiWPrbYYWRz-O1viPsHUdAs5t2EBgJvTR47f95ZiRGrzvruGwhlWVNVWFoO0wIQVRCO6R5reDYavKMR-cGZMihX0lajw/s1600/rejected.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #4c1130;"><b><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">4. <span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Our
Representative</span></b><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #4c1130;">What we hate most is that they are good at their jobs.
And that disgusts us. We have this twisted admiration for them and hate them at
the same time. Why? Because the better our representative is, the less we are
ourselves. The name of my representative is Keith. He currently has more
entitlement to my name than I do because he has been stronger and more in
control than I ever have up to now!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #4c1130;"><b><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">5. <span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Being
Fake</span></b><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #4c1130;">Every time we feel we are being fake (and we<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i><u>know</u></i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>when
this is) our representative gets stronger. Every time they get stronger we feel
safer behind them. It is a downward spiral that the "I" needs to
break before we become lost and end up inserting ourselves back fully into the
Matrix. Sorry if the reference is too 'geeky,' but it is the most fitting I can
find.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #4c1130;"><b><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">6. <span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Trust</span></b><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #4c1130;">I have never truly been able to trust anyone, because I
can't trust myself. I know this. As you said, I know my own M.O. now. This is merely
awareness, however. It truly has to translate into action before it becomes
useful. And most action - I am coming to
learn - takes risk.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #4c1130;"><b><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">7. <span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>A Representative
is NOT a Bad Thing</span></b><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #4c1130;">We do have to remember, though, that the Representative
works for <i>us</i>. And <i>we</i> call the shots. What has happened
with me is I have let the Representative become the leading entity. The creator
of my identity. From now on, he’s allowed to advise, but I need to make the
final decision on how he portrays me. And not how <i>he</i> portrays him.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #4c1130;"><b><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">8. <span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Perceived
Threats</span></b><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #4c1130;">The threats we feel every day are part of our spiritual
journey, and our growth. Or else they are just another way of giving unilateral
power to our Representative. But it is up to us.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #4c1130;"><b><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">9. <span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Is Our
Representative Truly Representing Us?</span></b><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #4c1130;">For some time the Gandhi quote, “One man cannot do right
in one department of life whilst he is occupied in doing wrong in any other
departments. Life is one indivisible whole” has kept coming into my head. This
is where the 'representative' f#%ks us up! <u>We get caught up in being good at
what we are doing, rather than being good at who we are. </u>Yes, our
Representative can do stuff that we can't. But do we <i>like</i> what they are doing? Have we sanctioned it from the core of
who we are?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #4c1130;"><b><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">10. <span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Dissociation</span></b><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #4c1130;">I think we all use dissociation as a defense mechanism.
I don't believe that this is a bad thing in and of itself. There are times when
it is critical to our survival through periods of serious trauma. It enables us
to get through, function and survive. But if it becomes a habit, and distances
us too far from who we truly are, then I think we are more dangerous <i>with</i> our representatives than we are
without them. Every heinous act in the world by a human being - I believe - is
founded on the strength of that dissociation. It is a way of finding validation
in something other than ourselves that gives us some kind of respite from our
own fears. From our own self-doubts and self-recriminations.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #4c1130;"><b><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">11. <span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Reality as Illusion</span></b><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #4c1130;">There are many religions that talk of the illusion of
reality. And it is possible to adopt that perspective through periods of our
life where it works for us. But I think the universe, the natural laws or way
of things has a way of bringing us constantly back to ourselves. We cannot
avoid ourselves. We have to be faced. And we have to embrace our dark side as
well as our good. We have to accept the whole. Only on that acceptance, of the
good and bad in us, can we see what really is illusory in our lives.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #4c1130;"><b><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">12. <span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Accepting Ourselves</span></b><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #4c1130;">I thought long and hard about whether to start blogging
under my real name, or to go anonymous, or use a pseudonym. In the end, I chose
to come clean. This in no way is a judgment on you (and I understand your
personal reasons for this). I decided to take the risk and crawl out of my cage
(against the advice of my representative). In fact, this comment is probably
more soul-baring than any of my posts so far (and I can hear my representative
screaming in protest). But, if I am to let go, and to be me, then I need to
push the boundaries. To shake things up (as<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><a href="http://www.vishnusvirtues.com/5-ways-to-live-life-shaken-not-stirred/" style="outline: 0px;" target="_blank" title="Vishnu says">Vishnu says</a>).<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><b><u><span style="color: #4c1130;">Your final line is probably the most hard-hitting: </span></u></b></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><i><span style="color: #4c1130;">"What it tells me is that ‘I’ feel soooo unsafe in the world that ‘I’
can't bear to show up."</span></i></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: left;">
<b style="background-color: white; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #4c1130;">I don't know about you, but I am tired of this. Are you
with me?</span></b></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #4c1130;">[Note from my Representative: Please do not take any of the
comments above personally. These are the expressions of my client at this
moment in time - and I am concerned at this time for his well being and
understanding of how to play the game that every sane person 'should' be
playing based on society's rules]<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #4c1130;">Thank you for a deeply personally inspiring couple of
posts (that is ME speaking).<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #4c1130;">**<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #4c1130;">So, there you go. This article started out as a comment
that has actually turned into a guest post.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #4c1130;">(Thanks Bri for the opportunity to
write for your inspiring blog)<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #4c1130;"><b>Some questions for you now:</b><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Do
you<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>show
up</i>? Do you have a Representative running the show? Where are YOU in
all of this? And how is that working for you?</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>downfromtheledgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02324597207878500097noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8572878393350853164.post-70967371669020932782012-07-07T18:50:00.000-05:002012-07-20T00:09:45.884-05:00My Representative<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoYUacztilDPmBgTiPCM8xVv9J506OQH3yjcgC5y5PFWnmIpVn-NrrFRVBBuKqqkX9JU0HhGkg_mqdiuhCt2XSL321k4LGVConhEhHvdxE7lA6LT7LkSXw1qyEAL-Aca0CCdUKdik2K_E/s1600/alien.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoYUacztilDPmBgTiPCM8xVv9J506OQH3yjcgC5y5PFWnmIpVn-NrrFRVBBuKqqkX9JU0HhGkg_mqdiuhCt2XSL321k4LGVConhEhHvdxE7lA6LT7LkSXw1qyEAL-Aca0CCdUKdik2K_E/s1600/alien.jpg" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">As I was writing a <a href="http://www.downfromtheledge.com/2012/07/my-representative.html#!/2012/06/living-in-alien-nation.html" target="_blank">guest post</a> for <a href="http://www.theunlost.com/life-in-general/living-in-alien-nation-the-disconnection-of-the-masses/" target="_blank">The Unlost</a> 2 weeks ago, the irony of
ME writing about Alien-Nation smacked me
in the face. Why’s that?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><b>My number one pet peeve:</b> Fake-a**
people.<br /> </span><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><b>My number one flaw:</b> Not being my real self
the majority of the time. </span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">A tad contradictory. There’s the me who writes this (anonymous)
blog, the me I send to work, the me who interacts with friends or family, and
the me I am when I’m alone. Soooo….which me is the real me? Any?! All???? Won’t the real me PLEASE stand up…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">Instead of being who I actually AM, I
instead feel everyone else out to see who I’m dealing with. Then, if anyone can pass my <i>CRAZILY</i>-high-standards-of-sincerity-test,
I <i>consider </i>the possibility that I
might not have to hide so much in front of this person. Not right away, mind you (no chance of that),
but WAAAAYYY down the line, after they have convinced me over and over that
they aren’t harboring ulterior motives.
I pretend my little “screening process” is some sort of guarantee that
said person won’t end up screwing me over.
And it doesn’t escape me that I’m requiring far more authenticity from
others than I am offering of myself. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">In some ways this is a commentary on my personal
dysfunction, which I happily (happily?) own, but moreso it’s a commentary on
our <a href="http://www.theunlost.com/life-in-general/shattering-the-illusion-of-all-alone/" target="_blank">society’s dysfunction</a>. Because I
didn’t get this way by accident. Time
and again, people showed me – in a hundred thousand ways, big and small – that
my REAL self wasn’t welcome at the party.
That I was TOO serious-idealistic-intense-sarcastic-fill-in-the-blank.That I was insufficiently cool-mainstream-status-quo-upholding. That something about me (namely…..ME) was
unacceptable, and I was going to be punished if I didn’t cover it up. You step one foot outside that box, and they
will chop that f**ker right off.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">And so, in order to even think about how I
could not feel estranged from others, I have to get my head around how I became
alienated from mySELF. From the parts of
myself that I disown, not just in the company of others, but in the privacy of
my own being…the not-me that I, myself, reject.
We all have this dichotomy; it’s the human condition (though of <i>course</i> we are convinced otherwise). What’s even worse than being unacceptable to
others…is being ashamed of your own feelings, and the mask you hide
behind. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><b><i><o:p></o:p></i></b></span><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><b><i>But I think I finally figured out my M.O.</i></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">How I operate in life is "I" send my
representative out to talk for me. For demonstration's sake, let's call
her Hobag, cuz I do hate the bitch, after all (plus, it’s just plain fun to say
the word hobag). Hobag is fake-me, whereas "I" am real-me.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>As words come out of my mouth, I occasionally find
myself asking, WHO is this talking? It doesn't sound like me. Do I
sound fake as fu*k? Cuz I sure FEEL fake as fu*k. </b></span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">That's the best
way I can describe what it’s like...as though I'm looking through a window
into the world - out there - while "I" stay hidden deep inside.
I have thus solved the mystery of our <a href="http://www.theunlost.com/life-in-general/living-in-alien-nation-the-disconnection-of-the-masses/" target="_blank">Alien-Nation</a>, for if I am
disconnected from my <b>SELF</b>, how could I <i>possibly</i> feel connected to another human
being? How do I know that when I sit down with you, you're not sending
your <i>own</i> hobag out to greet me? It’s doubtful I’m ever talking to you at
all! Rather, MY representative is chatting it up with YOUR representative.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">And so, in every instance where I feel threatened for
some reason or another (loosely translated: every social encounter I have), out
she goes. Public speaking? Get out there, Hobag. Scary group
situation? Hobag. Work consultation? Ho. Chat with my
friend? Sadly, probably her, too. The nice thing about her is that
she can do stuff “I” can’t.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDtGkZQ3PWv19fY0K_SByhW908WWl2BYpY6JIKW5B2x18NyfQvozF_1RfYKC_nU0I9TjwhPRwGZ9D3Vhnfvel2sf63k0LBoDH_nVvjC33ITyvC-IExYvx5RIoOBdmKB46i3-Fn6G3vb38/s1600/daydream.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDtGkZQ3PWv19fY0K_SByhW908WWl2BYpY6JIKW5B2x18NyfQvozF_1RfYKC_nU0I9TjwhPRwGZ9D3Vhnfvel2sf63k0LBoDH_nVvjC33ITyvC-IExYvx5RIoOBdmKB46i3-Fn6G3vb38/s1600/daydream.jpg" /></span></a></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">In complex psychological terms, the <a href="http://www.dsm5.org/ProposedRevision/Pages/proposedrevision.aspx?rid=58#" target="_blank">depersonalization</a> </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">of “</span><span lang="X-NONE" style="background-color: white; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">feeling detached from, and as if one is an outside observer of,
one's mental processes or body</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">”</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">falls under <i><b>dissociation</b>.</i> Whether we're
daydreaming our workday away, numbing ourselves to deaden the emotions we don't
<i>dare</i> allow to come out, or all-out fragmenting parts of ourselves, we <u>all</u> use
this defense mechanism at some level. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">What it tells me is that "I" feel soooo unsafe
in the world that "I" can't bear to show up.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><b>I form words, and
I hear them coming out of my lips, but I don't feel like <i>I'm </i>really -there- saying them. </b></span></span></blockquote>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">Sort of like
I'm sitting off in the corner watching the encounter take place. Despite
the fact that I've become increasingly cognizant of the phenomenon,
"I" don't seem able to shut Hobag up long enough for my real self to
come out. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">So here I am, a splintered human being, unable to assimilate
all these different personas I’ve created just to get through life. Our individual lack of integration is causing
complete societal disintegration. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><strong>Do you have a representative (and what’s his/her name)?</strong></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Leave a comment or e-mail me: <span style="font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">downfromtheledge at yahoo dot com</span></span></span><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><strong><span style="font-size: large;">Check out the follow-up post: </span></strong></span><br />
<a href="http://www.downfromtheledge.com/2012/07/my-representative.html#!/2012/07/alien-nation-part-2-breaking-habit-of.html" target="_blank"><strong><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;">Alien-Nation, Part 2: Breaking the Habit of YOU</span></strong></a><br />
<br />
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1bqGCktwgUAXkEKiOGfz4W9dssM4Hj1XW8il3SZ-q9bSi6ED5z69W5MM4_bC_34r_d_idkPbz4yctGVlzUU0YTR1h-FedDDIjUCtaPcAvfLGGfPvK0j3e_6orelxfYfgPli6XI-mGKwI/s1600/fb+badge.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1bqGCktwgUAXkEKiOGfz4W9dssM4Hj1XW8il3SZ-q9bSi6ED5z69W5MM4_bC_34r_d_idkPbz4yctGVlzUU0YTR1h-FedDDIjUCtaPcAvfLGGfPvK0j3e_6orelxfYfgPli6XI-mGKwI/s1600/fb+badge.png" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 14px;">Follow </span><a href="http://www.facebook.com/downfromtheledge" style="background-color: white; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 14px;" target="_blank">Bri on Facebook</a><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 14px;">.</span>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>downfromtheledgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02324597207878500097noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8572878393350853164.post-77179961459238624372012-07-04T01:31:00.000-05:002012-07-20T00:10:56.135-05:001 AM<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><a href="http://www.facebook.com/downfromtheledge" target="_blank">"Like" <em>down from the ledge</em> on Facebook</a></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh78F_9usDLOmYvet9EhefeTRJdqSjNOOhfomxZdfN3pe-s6W5r6I044FMOrE2w1bokKuDzm99AFY7zSLBlgX_rvcRRJA07RjIj773JUxXOX9ZxVmr45feEEBUFSfOZapwNDWDLc-QMVJs/s1600/1+AM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh78F_9usDLOmYvet9EhefeTRJdqSjNOOhfomxZdfN3pe-s6W5r6I044FMOrE2w1bokKuDzm99AFY7zSLBlgX_rvcRRJA07RjIj773JUxXOX9ZxVmr45feEEBUFSfOZapwNDWDLc-QMVJs/s1600/1+AM.jpg" /></a></div>
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</div>
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</a><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">It’s 1 AM; my sleep is
fucked<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Inside my bed, no
longer tucked<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">I'm squinting at this
laptop’s glare<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">I thought I’d blog;
instead I stare<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Debating on which
thread to start<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">To spew my anger? Spill my heart?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Imbue my days with
some great point<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">But by the end they
disappoint<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">It isn’t love or hope
I find<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">No peace inside this
grand design<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">You give and give and
give to all<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Receiving nothing
great or small<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Then slosh around in
bitterness<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">You wanted more, but
you got less<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Then wake up, do it
all again<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">It’s all the same by
that day’s end<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">So you trim down your expectations<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Start making accommodations<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Give doubt instead of
benefit<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">You only give back
what you get<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Leaving much to be
desired<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Find it makes you
fucking tired<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">At least now maybe you
can sleep<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Rolling in a different
deep<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><o:p></o:p></b></span></div>downfromtheledgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02324597207878500097noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8572878393350853164.post-14309097603871175972012-07-03T00:51:00.000-05:002012-07-20T00:13:19.859-05:00The World’s Too Effing Small.<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">My friends from high
school married their high school boyfriends, moved into houses in the same zip
codes where their parents lived, but I, <a href="http://downfromtheledge.blogspot.com/2012/01/pro-sparrow-on-yo.html" target="_blank">I could never follow</a>….okay, okay, that’s a Dixie Chicks song,
but that doesn’t make it any less true, right down to the zip code part. They’ve never lived on their own, much less
outside of the city where they grew up, and have had but 1 single relationship
with a man in their entire lives. They’ve
never known heartbreak, or independence, or all the other crap I used to wish I’d
never know, either. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfVa_aJn57FmVaqnIROhznDFitRkv8XPBr3JeXioSOsGsarStfLCbdAoNBb6U_5ZbM_z6KxhQOS5cBi9RYviT5bKIfO3UM-ZEDQZ19NG26PipbcEpUWAw9GYOg-VW1toHgi8seWMKp9Cc/s1600/mexicanrest.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfVa_aJn57FmVaqnIROhznDFitRkv8XPBr3JeXioSOsGsarStfLCbdAoNBb6U_5ZbM_z6KxhQOS5cBi9RYviT5bKIfO3UM-ZEDQZ19NG26PipbcEpUWAw9GYOg-VW1toHgi8seWMKp9Cc/s1600/mexicanrest.jpg" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">This post was written
in my head Saturday evening at 5 pm as my family and I sat down to dinner at my
favorite Mexican restaurant, only to see my ex-best-friend parade in with her
husband, toddler, and infant….landing at a table 4 feet diagonal from me. This is the kind of bullsh*t that happens to
me all the time. I can’t leave my house
without being punished with a bitch former co-worker I never wanted to lay eyes
on again, a former <a href="http://downfromtheledge.blogspot.com/2012/01/didnt-we-go-to-high-school-together.html" target="_blank">screwoff classmate who’s now rich while I’m poor</a>, or basically any human that knew me before this day today. I don’t want to see any of them. I want to pretend that was all nightmares, or
science-fiction-esque life memories implanted into my brain to terrorize
me. But apparently I am doomed to
literally run into my past at every instance I believe I’ve outrun it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">So there she was; the
girl I went to summer camp with, the friend I watched SNL and Mystery Science
Theater 3000 with until our stomachs practically broke from laughing so hard, my
best friend from age 13 to 29…who I stopped speaking to three years ago. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">In all honesty, our
friendship was over long before that.
When I left my fiancé at age 23, she wasn’t there for me, and I never
really forgot it. She didn’t ask me what
happened, or rally support, or do basically anything you would expect a friend
to do at the worst moment of your life.
<a href="http://downfromtheledge.blogspot.com/2010/12/unemployment-and-downward-spiral.html" target="_blank">When I quit my job and ended up unemployed for 4 years</a>, she was nowhere to be found.
When the second most important relationship of my life ended, she was mysteriously
absent once again. <a href="http://downfromtheledge.blogspot.com/2010/12/on-eve-of-my-3rd-anniversary.html" target="_blank">And when I was in Nashville carrying out a plan to kill myself</a>,
she didn’t even know I was gone. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Writing all of this
makes me wonder how I still considered her my “Best Friend.” Is it because she just always was, and I
never thought to re-title her? Or
because I was maid of honor at her nuptials?
Maybe it was because I was the one she called when her baby was in the
hospital with pneumonia. I don’t know
what I was hanging onto for so long, but I eventually DID let go.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">I let go of the idea
that she was going to one day become the friend that I needed. The friend who would be there for me. The friend who is there in good times…or bad
times…or either, really, cuz <a href="http://downfromtheledge.blogspot.com/2011/01/anytime-you-need-friend.html" target="_blank">she sucked at both</a>. It’s
not that I didn’t give her chances. Many. It’s not that I didn’t tell her how I felt;
this was my reward for doing that:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><em>“The fact is, that like most adult friendships, I don't have a
lot of time to give. I'm sorry, but my
job consumes 90% of my life during the school year. What little energy I have left I have to give
to my son and my husband. I feel incredibly guilty that my son spends 9 1/2
hours of his day at daycare. I want to
give him every free moment I have. So,
unfortunately, dinner every once in awhile is all I have to give. I don't think this is all that uncommon among
adult friendships.”<o:p></o:p></em></span></b></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">And STILL I gave it
one more year after THAT!!! God, I am
such a doormat. The final straw had to
do with Austin, the place I moved to in the first place because none of my
friends back home gave two fu*ks about me.
At my little going-away get-together, my 2 high school friends basically
invited themselves to come stay with me over Spring Break. Come November, one backed out; whatever. Then a month before she was set to come, my
ex-bestie tells me she can’t afford the trip.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Bulllllllllllllshit,
is what I say. $300 bucks to come stay
at my apartment for free, a luxury beyond her grasp? As she posts on Facebook about getting a
mani/pedi with the friend she’s blowing thousands to go on a Hawaii couples’
vacation with, forking over hundreds to do Ferrell’s and dye her hair blond in
preparation for? The same friend she
goes to midnight showings of Twilight with, you know, who couldn’t be bothered
for an hour dinner with me once a year? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">And why am I still
angry about this sh*t? I haven’t seen
her in 4 years, and I would have been content for it to have been much
longer. A friend-ship is like any other
relation-ship: there is the person who is actually before us (who we are
usually incapable of seeing), and the person we wish-want-hope would be before
us. And there comes a day of reckoning
when we accept that the image is hollow.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Her last e-mail to me stated,
<strong><em><span style="color: #274e13;">“</span></em></strong></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><strong><em><span style="color: #274e13;">Now you've decided to shut me out for whatever reason, but I feel I
deserve one last communication.”</span></em></strong> </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">SHE deserves?
She never got that last communication.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">I don’t mind being the
petty one, or the stone cold bitch; I’ll be the one with the problem. Cuz you know what, I don’t have to sit around
wondering why she doesn’t give a sh*t about me anymore, and she doesn’t have to
come up with excuses to blow me off.
Win-win.<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><o:p></o:p></b></span></div>downfromtheledgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02324597207878500097noreply@blogger.com0