a word to the wise

I am a good friend to have. Really, I am.

I will work hard for my friends, family and the groups that I join.

I don't always have to be appreciated for every little thing I do, but there comes a point when my help is so obviously either not good enough, or not wanted.

It is at that point that I withdraw my participation. I am older. I am tired. I do not have the physical or emotional energy required to fight to be included, so I will disappear. I have never intentionally caused harm to anyone, even those that have hurt me; I simply go away. Those left without me, may not ever know what they missed by not having me around, but miss out they will.

I am creative, resourceful, trustworthy, loyal, and a hard worker. I am a multi-tasking, planning, brilliant machine. If you don't need a friend like that, I will move on.

purse confessions

I got a new purse.

Not necessarily earth shattering news, I know, but it gave me reason to be introspective as I sort and transfer my belongings from the old purse to the new one.

A friend recently blogged about a woman's connection to her bag, so I won't do that here. I'm more fascinated by what my contents may reveal about me. I've been on that theme lately. I've arranged the contents into groups.

So let's see;
as iTunes would say, there are the basics;
wallet, keys, phone, hand lotion,

the next step;
full set of makeup: face, eyes, tweezers, mirror, 4 lip products,
tissues, about 15 pens, pencils, sharpies, notepad,

the deeper cuts;
first aid kit, eye drops, ibuprofen, tums, beano,

and miscellanea;
a stack of business cards promoting about 4 different theatre productions,
a paintbrush? 2 flashlights, a pink pocketknife, a tiny can of Lysol spray,
3 kinds of hand sanitizer, 4 kinds of breath mints and mini toothbrush,
4 pairs of sunglasses, 2 hand-me-down ipods, and a kindle fire.

You'd think there would be various and sundry receipts also, but no, I actually cull them out pretty regularly.

So, what does this list say?
Gone are the days of traveling light. This purse is heavy. I try to be prepared; overly prepared.
There was no hairbrush, so I either don't care what my hair looks like or I have given up. I may not care about my hair, but you won't catch me without mascara and eyeliner. I will admit my addiction to lip balms. I am never without them. It appears that I am twice as afraid of the sunlight as I am of the dark. I'm petrified of having bad breath. Ditto for germs. I am quite attached to my electronics. The medical section gives away my age.

Another confession; I carry another bag that stays in the car with more extras. Things that I have "just in case." That's the autism mom part. I have ear plugs and Mark's anti-nausea wrist bands and car chargers,  a garmin, wipes of various kinds, duplicates of the things listed above. I'm just thankful that I don't have to carry all that on my person at all times anymore, just close at hand. I need to add some duct tape to this bag. Everyone knows that you can survive a zombie apocalypse with gummy worms and duct tape.

You can analyze and come up with your own summation, but mine is this - the world (or whatever) has been unkind to me and somehow by being prepared I think I can one-up or outsmart it; protect myself and those around me. It's an illusion, I know. Trying to outsmart the universe is exhausting when all you have is a purse.

surprise

I've always thought it to be interesting when someone is surprised that I am good at something.

It's as if they look at me, size me up, and decide that because of my appearance, I must not be good for much.

I really hate that physical appearance matters so much in this world.

I hate even more that I can't quit caring about it.

continuing saga

I missed autism awareness month this year. I didn't exactly miss it, but I suppose I didn't post anything in time for April.

Nothing to say except, read this article:

http://special-ism.com/why-autism-acceptance-is-not-enough/2/

My favorite quote from this article:

"Awareness Leads to Acceptance for Most Disabilities
People who are aware of blindness do not expect blind people to try harder to see.
People who are aware of seizure disorders
do not expect those who have seizures to try harder not to seize.
People who are aware of paraplegia do not expect paraplegics to try harder to walk."

 There are several pages, but worth clicking through to read them all.

 

 

 

friend or foe

I've been attending rehearsals in a space that has one whole wall of mirrors, very helpful for dancers and dance routines.

I watch how people react to the mirror.

Some little girls walk, talk, and giggle, all while watching themselves intently in the mirror. They are mesmerized by their own image; can't take their eyes off themselves. They seemed to be pleased with what they see or at least interested.

The grown women avoid the mirror at all cost. The mirror is the enemy.

At what point does the shift begin? When does your own image become your least favorite thing to look at?

the unpublished song

this is the unpublished song

a song from the heart

a song from the soul

with questions of why does it have to be this way

will it ever change

they talk about living a life that i don't understand

i don't think it exists

not for me

i have to try harder than everyone else

to struggle to be good enough

and i never succeed

so i pretend

and no one ever knows

because i'm good at pretending

new ways to be rejected

So, if someone doesn't accept your facebook friend request, what does that mean exactly?

It's a new age and, whether we like it or not, social media is here to stay. It affects us in different ways. That it provides a quick, effective tool for communicating is without question. It also provides new ways to annoy and new ways to be rejected.

It's weird. I don't send that many friend requests, so when I do, it really is someone I want to keep up with.

I have a very ecclectic group of friends, which, after thinking about it, everyone probably does.

• The ones that have a cause they are passionate about; politics, autism, homeschooling, etc.
• Others that are promoting their business.
• The spiritual ones that keep us uplifted with scripture and worship videos.
• The family historians who post every photo of every life event.
• And the ones who tell us everything they're thinking and I mean everything.

We hold each other's hands through good times and bad, elections, debates, new babies born, and the passing of loved ones. It's become a community within itself.

 

I'm a good neighbor. I play nice. So why would someone that I know in real life pass on the chance to be my friend. I'll probably never know.

seasons and reasons

In the circles that I hang with, we toss around the phrase, a new season. I've been thrown into such a different season. I'm trying some new things, new environments, meeting new people, etc. All of that is stretching me more than I have been stretched in quite a while. Some of it by my choice, but not all of it. It has been good for me, I hope.

Along with that stretching comes the discomfort of navigating new waters and new personalities. I feel like I'm back in junior high.

I am being bullied for the first time in a long time. I didn't realize how much I have been sheltered. I am venturing out into the world, out of my comfort zone, and I have encountered a person that has been making very unkind statements referring to my size and weight. It seems to come so naturally to them, that I'm pretty certain that they must behave that way to everyone; I'm just not used to it. These are unkind things that are said to my face and in front of other people.

I will admit that I am very sensitive about my weight. Most women are. It has been a lifelong battle and not a pretty one, at that. I struggle with shame, blame, feeling unattractive and everything else that goes with it. Trust me, I am very aware of what I look like. Mirrors and photographs can ruin my day, and don't even get me started on that number on the scale.

Ridicule is so very demotivating and makes me want to crawl back into my hole; like I don't even deserve to draw breath.

So, I have to choose to move on. Do I ignore the comments or meet them head-on?

not feeling it

I think I can honestly say that this year I feel absolutely nothing about Christmas. Zero. Zilch. Nada.

I have written several times before about Christmas, and given myself the glorious freedom to enjoy it like I want. In the past, even with losses and stress, I have always still managed to find that warm fuzzy feeling somewhere. I know it's still early in the season yet, but I'm sad. I want to be a little kid full of anticipation, but there's too many much pent up disappointment and dashed hopes. Sweaters and snowmen and music and food and lights . . . . . none of it fixes anything.

I'm certainly not offended by any one else's preparations, I just feel numb. (Although, walking around Walmart on Black Friday did feel like something out of a movie, even though it was three o'clock in the afternoon.)

What do I want for Christmas?