Come Inside My Head, if You Dare…
Today may have been perfect if not for this.
I often come across an invention or see a product advertised, and I say those very words. Usually, I use a whiny tone when saying them. Because someone other than myself made a fortune off something I came very close to inventing. It’s true. For a while, I had a defective smoke alarm that would go off if I used my broiler. I often yelled at it, “I’m just cooking!”
Sigh.
What is your spirit animal?
Ha! Hah! Hee! HaHa! Oh, you’re serious?
I have thought about this over the years. The animal I can closely relate to is The Taz. Yes, the obnoxious, drooling, grunting tornado in Looney Tunes cartoons. This might surprise you depending on how well you know me.
When I watched Bugs Bunny and his friends, I could hardly wait for Taz to show up. I loved watching him be self-ish, pigging out, and completely out of control. I yearned to be able to do that – let it all go. Express and not repress. To throw a tantrum because things were just not my way.
I can only explain it like this:
Since the age of 8 and a half, our family dynamic has changed drastically. My little sister (aged 5) was diagnosed with juvenile diabetes. She was the fragile one with a frightening condition.
My mom now had to become the family nurse. My dad worked full-time and was also working on his college and Masters degrees. Sis needed constant monitoring and care. Back then, there were no blood test strips or meters. No pumps. One had to pee in a cup and dip a ketone strip to determine if ketones were present in the urine. If they were, your glucose was too high, and dosages needed to be changed. The ketone test would not tell you if you were too low. Lows were determined by symptoms of insulin shock.
Fun times. Not.
I was promoted to “the healthy child,” even though I was prone to pneumonia and had serious asthma. Diabetes trumped all other illnesses combined. I understood that this meant I would be second in line. For attention, help with homework, and many things I had not thought of – yet.
I resented that they expected perfect behavior from me. I was always a disappointment. Yet, I kept striving to be their perfect daughter. I recognize this behavior now, thanks to my therapist. She told me that I was the queen of self-abuse. I needed to learn from my behavior and quit running full force into that brick wall. I exhausted myself trying to please the unpleasable.
Okay, how did I get from talking about Taz to my therapist? If you are still “with me,” I will wrap up this spirit animal thing by saying that I hope to have better manners than Taz when my jaw and teeth finally get fixed and I can chew again. But, just in case I’m a whirling dervish, keep your limbs out of the aisle.
TTFN
“Star Date: December 15, 1984,” begins a post by one of my favorite bloggers – Bitter Ben.
Out of curiosity, I looked that date up in my journal. Yes, like Captain Kirk, I kept logs.
Even my therapist was “amazed” at the stacks of journals I owned up to. Some were in wire-bound notebooks – the early years. Later on, I got addicted to nicely bound journals (usually found at Ross) that looked like any of the other books on my bookshelves. No one knows that I am still writing in them. This is more effective protection than locked diaries that draw attention to themselves because they are locked and presumably full of secrets.
So, searching for Ben’s special date, I re-discovered some of my own in the search through my past. August 8th, 2008 (8/8/08) – I am descending into a serious depression and don’t know it. I am freaking out about being overwhelmed at work AND home – I have too much to do for one person in the allotted time. To save money, my project is not allowing overtime. The dude in charge of customer support (tech support that I care for) retired. He will not be replaced. Translation: Jodi will have to do (or delegate) everything. The “new” girl takes over the tasks that the retired guy left behind and starts to boss me around. She works for me. She probably senses that I am losing it.
Man! Reading those logs made me nervous. Was I really that close to a nervous breakdown? Oh, yes. No wonder hubby wanted to retire ASAP. I must have been driving him crazy, griping about work constantly. I caught on to the depression factor when I stopped wearing make-up and getting my hair done.
In 2007 and 2008, I probably would have given into depression if it was not for my granddaughter, then a toddler of 3 years, loving me. The knock-you-down kind of love that they express when they see you and run full out to hug you. Agape. The Spanish word for the purest and unmotivated/unselfish love.
August 8, 2023 – (8/8/23) Maui caught fire, and Lahaina was destroyed. I had our 35th-anniversary trip all planned out. Guess where?
What is it about August 8th? I need to do some research about that date to see if it shows up in my historical records again. My hysterical records are probably a more fitting description.
Thanks for listening!
To be continued…
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