Knocked for a Loop

A good chunk of people come from dysfunctional families. Some of us break out of the cycle and some of us just follow the same path because it is familiar.

I hope that I am one of the ones who have broken out of the cycle of emotional constipation and the cruelty which is born from it.

I've mostly dealt with my childhood traumas and losses, and when I get sucked back into that darkness it doesn't take me long to pull the memory out in its fullness, thank it for the scars and put it back away. (I have found that moving on is a continual process not a one time accomplishment.) But going back to my hometown for my uncle's funeral hit way too many buttons and I am having a harder time thanking anything. Plus there are a few new memories to add to the box.

My plan was to come back, write about meeting the adults I used to babysit or at least change the diapers of, however, I haven't gotten to that part of my coming back home process. 

If you don't know this by now, my mind is always trying to put the puzzle together, no matter what form that puzzle is in. Sometimes I amuse myself because I get distracted by a section which reminds me of something and that rabbit hole leads to a tea party. Sometimes, like this time, the rabbit hole lead to both the Jabberwocky and Bandersnatch.

My "jabberwocky" is thoughtless selfishness. My "bandersnatch" is pride.

When I say thoughtless selfishness I mean when someone doesn't think about a situation other than what they want. For example, I was told several times, (attempted guilt trips), that I don't visit enough or that I disappeared. My response of course was that I haven't had anyone visit me at all and they are always welcome. Here is how this is both thoughtless and selfish. I am expected to make the effort to reach out regardless of my situation. No one thought about or remembers the fact that my family was almost homeless, that we were destitute for quite some time, or that when we were in town they were busy. (BTW I am VERY grateful and humbled that my support system came in the form of good friends who became family. They were my life boat and I hope I can repay that.) I could jab at this Jabberwocky with hurt and resentment, throwing  all the trials and tribulations at the snapping jaws of this beast. This would only lead to both of us continuing to battle in a bloody war. Or I can forge a vorpal sword of forgiveness as well as gentle darts of reminders that my door is always open and my phone is always available. The forging of this magical weapon is tough and laborious, yet the undertaking is worth the sweat and tears. I am working on it still.

Pride is tricky. Of course we all want to be proud of our accomplishments. We want to hold our heads high and acknowledge that we are worth... something. Most of the time with families it goes a bit too far. This leads us as individuals unable to ask for help or share our struggles. This bandersnatch led to a big ugly pile of resentment when it came to my uncle's death. His wife & children didn't want to use the D word when talking to the rest of the family about his illness, (thus the true nature & severity was lost on people who don't do subtle.) My father's pride kept the rest of our family from knowing that he is struggling financially and that my husband and I were struggling in the past. My pride keeps me from correcting assumptions and accusations. My mom's pride keeps her from admitting that her memory has holes. And the list goes on. I don't know how to deal with my part in this as I also don't want to alienate people further. But I am much MUCH better at keeping it from happening in the future by asking for help now and letting people know when things are less than ideal. Of course we can only be responsible for ourselves, so the beast continues to claw, scratch and bite. This makes it a much more difficult beast to overcome. You cannot defeat it, you can only subdue it. So I must find a way to charm it. Hopefully then it will wander off to sleep for a bit.

The point where a night of drinking and dancing with friends to get my equilibrium back is drawing closer. First maybe a rowdy and silly D&D game will get me laughing enough to put these monsters into perspective. Then I can talk about the adults I still picture in diapers.

Hmm... Maybe I just need a new novel to edit.

How do I look?

Perception

Something I learned very young is perception is super important in our lives. It's a powerful motivator with influential and invasive minions which can be detrimental or powerful.

Depending on who you speak to or what the application, the minions of perception are the tools that any self-help guru, marketing professional or sales coach teach. They are the basis of "fake-it til you make-it." These minions are also the key to "professionalism", which includes dress codes -written or not, phone etiquette, vocabulary expectations and diplomacy in the office. We want and need clients to view us a certain way. Public Perception can make or break a company. Much more so now than 10, 20, 30 years ago since we are now required to have a digital world-wide presence.

Again, the way people view us will either propel us forward or leave us hanging.

Family is also a game of perception. It is important to the heads of family how outsiders view the family as a whole because of course that is how they view the head of the household. It is even more important how the extended family views the nuclear family. Weird right? However, this plays out over and over again. There's an underlying competition within families which is won by the parents/guardians who have the most successful and exemplary children. Once again the minions - dress code, circumstantial etiquette, vocabulary expectations and diplomacy within the family are important. The need to maintain the perception of a well-adjusted family sometimes becomes toxic.

Yes, I said sometimes.

The reason behind the "fake-it til you make-it" mantra in business is that it creates productive habits. Keeping a calendar with penciled-in fake appointments creates a habit of maintaining your calendar. Once those appointments are actualized you are already in the habit of consulting your calendar and keeping it up to date. Faking a receptionist until you can hire one, creates an expectation for your clients of going through appropriate channels. Keeping an eye on appropriate fashion and replicating it, (within your means), creates a habit of presenting yourself the best way possible. All of these are equivalent to the productive habits for a healthy family model.

The perception game becomes destructive when its minions are suppressed or when they are let to run rampant. The minions body image, hygiene, self-worth, self-care, competition, etc., when used too often or not often enough create the monsters of Anxiety, Depression, Eating Disorders, Sleep Disorders and Addiction. These monsters can take years to tame, however, they are never truly conquered.

How are you using the minions of Perception? How have they been used on you?

Are you fighting the monsters they create? Did you tame these monsters?

It would seem that this is just the opening of this particular rabbit hole.

The Sum of Our Parts

Why all the drama over the number of celebrity deaths this year?

Because it hurts.

Yes, we understand death is part of the cycle. Yes, we understand we don't know these folks personally. Yes, we understand. It still hurts. A raw ripping feeling as though pieces of your soul are being shredded with a SPOON.

Very different from the gnawing ache of sudden emptiness when a family member dies. Yet the reason is very similar.

Our families shape the footings for the foundation of our being. Our souls begin to take shape as they mold and guide us. Then our very being becomes tumultuous. We are separate from them, not replicas, we are OUR OWN PERSON! Serious teenage confusion begins the search for more. (And yes this presents in different ways but that is another story.)

Just like any architectural achievement, our personal construction requires RESEARCH. Music, movies, books, comics, magazines, and sometimes theatre are all the water, sand and gravel in the search for ourselves.

When we begin to find the pieces which either fit, or we desperately want to fit, the posters go up, the collections begin, and the soul grows. The soul changes. We now have a foundation ready, we think, to build upon.

Thus begins our individual journey, the adventure of learning about ourselves, the quest to find our tribe, the thingy to find fulfillment. (More posters, different collections, and new pieces.)

It is human nature to subconsciously think that all these people, the guides, the mentors, the inspirations will forever be around. They are a part of us, how could they not be?

The footings won't fail, the foundation won't crumble; however, the blueprints we lovingly bring out on occasion are now not just fading but beginning to rip - fast. We can feel it. We can't stop it. 

Soon it will be familiar and we can remember with more fondness than sadness. Right now, we grieve and it's part of the cycle as well. 

Dusting Off the Keyboard

What an adventure!

To answer the burning question, yes I stopped writing. Life hit some whitewater and in order to stay in the game I had to specialize. When there are only so many dice to roll, you gotta be picky about what oars to keep. (Now how's that for mixing metaphors?)

My old nemesis the Time Thief gained some allies. However, those allies worked for me as well. I have gained the ally of Knowledge, while strengthening my ally Tribe.

After a lengthy game of strategy with several losses and a few gains I find my weapons sharper, stronger, and seasoned oh-so-well with the sweat and tears of my efforts as well as the efforts of my Tribe.
However, the color of my thoughts, the flitting pictures in my mind continue to want an outlet. I have been told countless times, "You should start a blog." I had one. I have one. No. I abandoned one.
Hemming, hawing, thinking, overthinking and finally coming to the conclusion that I suck... at diary keeping. But I love to play with the random sentences that fly through my mind.

So what's next?

When something hits me as funny and no one else gets it, I'll post.
When my soul feels the ripping sensation of truth, I'll post.
When I need to make fun of my moody self, I'll probably think about posting, then think better of it, then write it, erase it, and...  I'll post.
In between all this I might fill in the gap of my abandonment of this lonely page.

Why shouldn't we all have fun as I try to herd butterflies?

Asking for Help

Yes this is an ongoing issue for me and a few of my friends. We are brought up in a society where the biggest lesson given is that a smart, successful person is self-sufficient. I am not going to argue whether or not this is true. I just want to clarify and then think "out loud".

It has taken me years to learn that it is ok to ask for help. Yet still when something major happens, like not having a vehicle for a week, I forget that I have friends that will drive all the way to BFE and pick me up. I have gotten so used to having my own transportation that figuring out what to do without it was frustrating. Equally frustrating was getting my own lecture back about asking for help.

I believe that a big part of friendship and family for that matter is helping each other out. The whole "village" mentality should not stop at just raising a child. Our friends and family are the village that should support and encourage us in all aspects of our lives. These are the people that are there when you need them just about every time you need them. HOWEVER they can't know when they are needed if we DON'T tell them.

So why didn't I ask for help when my car was "in the shop". (My husband is a mechanic.) I honestly do not know. Maybe it was that little voice in the back of my head taunting me with being a failure because I couldn't get my son and I where we needed to go. Maybe it was that I feel like I live so far away from anyone I could ask for a ride. Maybe it is that feeling I have sometimes that I am the only one that does "dumb" things like lend people my car. (We had a couple seize the engine of the vehicle we lent them.) Or maybe this was too much stress for my brain to handle so it ran away.

Whatever the reason I felt stuck and frustrated for a couple of days before I sat in a friend's car getting the lecture. That friend gave me a ride to things I wanted to do as well as the things I needed to do. After that I was lent a car that doesn't get much use due to the fact that it's owner telecommutes. (Have I mentioned I have awesome friends?)

By the following week, when I had my 4runner back, I was feeling very connected to my village. I was impressed by the fact that my high standards are there for a reason. I was also given a lot of crap for not asking for help in the first place by several people. Which I duly deserved.

The fear and anxiety of what I will do when this vehicle finally gives up is mostly gone. I love my 4runner. It's just old and tired and I understand it's trying to give me fair warning. I have a village full of support and love, or if you'd rather free rides and under used cars.

Didn't see that one coming...

I noticed today that my protagonist's name is the same, (or very similar), as my favorite childhood villain-ess.

Sometimes my thoughts get so churned up with the frantic pace of life that it takes a bit for them to settle and leave clarity behind. Much like sediment in a lake when you stand still after walking in from the edge.

A couple of weeks ago my friends and I were talking about our favorite childhood cartoons. Naturally most of mine were the "boy" type cartoons. Lots of action and violence! Typically the writers had to modify them as to not alienate female viewers. This then gave us girls strong females to associate with. Which probably explains my mother's strange habit of getting me the male sidekicks of the popular girl's dolls. Yuck!

Let's try and forget that. Again.

I was pretty into Thundercats, He-Man, Transformers and okay I will admit it, The Smurfs. Gargamel was fun. There was also this Amazon Jungle super hero chick with a cool necklace/weapon thing. But I digress.

These action filled and sometimes dark animated series gave me much more to chew on. They made great fodder for my wildly overactive imagination. (Ask me about the wooden lion sometime.) The action was a lot of fun, we were always happy that the hero won BUT the villains were awesome. Villains by definition should be strong. This strength is very prominently displayed. Female villains couldn't be buff so they had to be smart, sassy, independent and did I mention smart? This is the most consistent place you will find a truly unique and independent female character.

After many intervening years I cannot remember storylines or most of these character's specialties. I remember most vividly, however, trading stickers and toys so I could have everything with Evil-Lyn. I still want her costume!

Yet after working on this story for a couple of years and talking about these cartoons a couple of weeks ago, TODAY is the day I realize this irony. Today I realized that my nerve-wracked, smart ass, fiercely protective, very smart and very in love Human Female lead has the same name as the villain I loved as a child.

Evelynn is bugging me to stop admiring how my mind works and get back to her story. So back to the notebook.