I have an issue that I have yet to work through. I have more than one issue but today I will focus on one of the big five issue. This issue is like a cherry on top of a perfect milk shake. No more like the zit on your chain before a first date. Wait it is like starting your period before a week long beach vacation. Perfect. It is inconvenient, changes your plans, causes mood swings and water retention.
Why did this come to the for front of BCarol’s mind? I am a closeted performer. I am out of the closet for all intensives purposes but I can’t make a living at it so I consider myself in a closet. There is a role that I would like to play and I need to send the rudimentary headshot and resume. Easy enough off it went via-e-mail to the casting director. Then came the request for video of a performance.
I have dvd’s of myself dancing, sing and acting my way through productions. I can edit a minute or so of me doing the above. Easy right? Well, not so much. I was horrified. I watched myself and thought You suck! Your voice! Your movements! Dear Lord what were you thinking? I sunk low in my chair took a deep breath and grabbed a large handful of candy cane Hersey Kisses. Then I grabbed another handful of kisses and thought I wish I had made those sugar cookies.
What upsets me is less than an hour before that I going through the possibilities of graduate school in theater. Yes, I want to peruse an advanced degree in theater. Sadly, if I cannot watch myself why would I think that I could get into a grad program more or less be on stage.
Now that is the question. I have been cast over and over doing roles that were non-traditional, over the top and written for the opposite sex. Honestly, I have. I have been asked to be in shows without auditioning. I receive accolades but still manage to feel subpar, lackluster and horrendous.
I have two choices. Choice 1 the world is blowing sunshine up my skirt. Choice 2 I have issue with my self-esteem. After due thought and conversation with a friend who is also a therapist I have chosen number 2. Low-self esteem is a major short coming and I wear it like it is my job.
What to do? What to do? My friend the licensed social worker asked me something that rocked me back on my heels. “Where you sexually abused as a child” she said. The answer was an honest no. I can’t remember anything and I have volunteered with sexual assault and domestic violence programs for years. If I had I would think that something would have come to the surface and I would have faced it.
Why sexual assault? People who have been assaulted have many issues that I have. They tend to be control freaks, perfectionist, flashy dressers, sexually conservative, obsessive compulsive, overachievers and self deprecating. This list not exhaustive but it says a great deal about me. All are true.
After years of living I have learned that abuse comes in many ways and levels. I also know that abuse can affect everyone differently. For BCarol it was many cruel circumstances that caused this enigma called BCarol.
I am what was called a bright child. I was and still am empathic. I love the creative process of the arts and performance. I see the world on multiple levels at once. I see through my senses and can pull a moment into reality with the sound of a musical phrase, a shade of color or the flavor of a beloved drink. I consider myself ethereal. No, not angelic but ethereal.
My mother and father gave birth to this oddity. Yes, oddity. My parents are about as creative as a wall painted utilitarian gray. A wall that is serviceable, clean and reliable. This does not mean that my parents did not love me. I know that they did and still do. They just did not know who to feed my mind and sense of self.
My father did his best to prepare me for the world. I think he was trying to toughen me up and make me hard. Okay, that is fine and well. However something was lost in the translation. First let me share with you that I am not a pretty girl. Something a father should never share with his prepubescent daughter. I am also not the brightest I will need to work harder. Also, as a child my father told me I was fat and that no man will want me. I still struggle with my weight and sense of self value they are intertwined.
From my father’s viewpoint I understand this. It was honest and giving me the tools I needed to survive what the world would throw at me. My mother was another story. I call her the woman who cannot make a choice. If you asked my mother a questioned and expected an answer you would be sorely disappointed. Even when my mother attended college she couldn’t pick a major.
Mom wanted me to be a doctor or something important. I wanted to be a musician but that was a hobby not something you studied in college. Why don’t you become a lawyer? Why aren’t your grades better? How come you don’t… That is what I remember “how come you don’t (insert whatever).” Looking back I spent 18 years walking on egg shells and trying to make peace with what was around me. I became passive aggressive. I ate to find some kind of fulfillment. I stopped trying because what was the point. I enjoyed the wrong things. I liked the wrong people. I cried too much. I was not happy enough. You are not allowed to be angry. I am sure to this day that I breathed wrong.
18 years of programming and I cannot erase the damn hard drive. What is a girl to do? Be bitter? Hide and eat Ben and Jerry’s? Maybe? I could work on healing myself. I could learn to see myself as others see me instead of the disgusting entity that I perceive.
If rose colored glasses are a reality what color are the glasses I wear. Gray, black or even puce? Could they be scratched and flawed. Maybe they are glasses that cut out all that is bright and only shows that which is monotonous.
Maybe Jill Scott was right…
In reality, I'm gon' be who I be
And I don't feel no faults
For all the lies that you bought
You can try as you may
Break me down but I say
That it ain't up to you
Gone and do what you do
Now back to the video of my performance, one step at a time….
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
Friday, December 2, 2011
Cats, Christmas and The T
Christmas time again. It is an odd kind of Christmas to me. My therapist and I have gone round and around about decorations. The therapist (I will refer to him/her as The T) felt that I should pursue the decking of the halls. I was unsure; make that no way in hell! I have lost a great deal the last few years and to top all of it off one of cats become ill and died.
Take my home, loose my job but my cat? I miss her every day when I walk into my residence not to see her big round eyes and quiver tail. I know that too many, almost all of you she was just an animal or pet but to me she was unconditional love and understanding. No matter my living circumstance or income my kitty was the same. The same purrs. The same snuggles. The same coughing up of hairballs.
My other two cats have ran around the house crying in each room looking for her. How do you explain death to an animal? You can’t and that brings more tears for one who has left you.
I know that she is in heaven. Do not give me the argument about souls and animals. Heaven would not be heaven without the animals that I have had heal and love me. She is there and I am sure that for her there are many loving hands to pet and scratch her and that only the best treats are given seafood of course.
Then out of nowhere a good friend calls me and she was let go yesterday. I thought she was safe and had made it through the worst of it. Sadly, I was yet again wrong. I find that it takes the shine off of my holiday and leaves her in a vacuous of despair. Happy Holidays! She will awake New Year’s Day almost 60 in Detroit without a job. Where will she start and what will she do? She is still here and she will move on but the strength of faith, person and character will be tested in ways that I do not wish on anyone. What can one do when words fail and hugs are not enough? I pray and hope. I still hope. Only to ask why…
Now, back to the tree and the decking of the halls. I have another friend who is suffering through her own Christmas issues. I call her the recovering Catholic. She is on her spiritual quest. I think she may end with Buddhism? That is why it is a quest she may end up living on a mountain eating weeds and scattering wisdom. Then again may be not she does have a husband and I can’t see him eating weeds in a cave. Maybe if there was a large enough tv with a remote… no not so much.
Christmas to her is pain and suffering. Presents and demands. She also has had illness associate with the holiday. You would think that all this would push me to screw the holidays and eat pizza rolls and watch action movies. Oddly, it has had the opposite effect on me.
I will admit I miss the presents and snow men. It is the memories that haunt me. This haunting has positives and a barge full of negatives. I embrace the memories of it. I have made some choices. I am going to conveniently forget the barge of negativity. Yeah! With age comes easily accessible “forget it ness.” As my friend shared her feelings about Christmas I found myself sharing what it is that I like, enjoy and love about the holiday.
I like the music. It brings me comfort. The Vince Guaraldi Trio brings me a glow. Vince played the music for the Charlie Brown Christmas Special. Each note brings me into the safety and peace of childhood. There was life before peer pressure, mortgage payments and long work days. Guaraldi give me that again my shoulders relax and I can smell pine and citrus. I see snow as a miracle and do not dread it but look forward to snow men and hot chocolate. I think of snow angles and my gloves drying on the radiator. I think of church service and pretty dresses.
I know that this is a time of year that I should take comfort in Christ’s birth but in all honesty it has little to do with him. This is a day chosen by the church to undermine Pagan winter solstice celebrations, Saturnalia and Sol Invictus. We will promote Christianity with a festival designed to carry the correct message to all the worlds’ heathen. One of the first major marketing campaigns that went out of control... That is why Target has the crazy ad with the blonde waiting for black Friday. Will she just shut the hell up!?!?!?!
Slowing down…. Yes, Christ does enter into my Christmas but in a BCarol kind of way. Let me start with Christmas lights. There is something about the glow of lights on the tree and greenery. No other light just the sparkle of the bulbs. It is soft, warm and welcoming. There is not a harsh edge. There is no anger or antagonistic intent.
The scents. Yes, the freshness of pine. The sweetness of cinnamon. The aroma of baking cookies. All warm, giving and natural smells. I also take pleasure in the rich sweet scent of mulling cider.
The sounds music. This is a biggie! The music the soaring notes in traditional carols. I listen to the weight and rhyme of the words. The middle ages come to life through the cantor. Listen to the “Wexford Carol”,” I Saw Three Ships” or “In the Bleak of Midwinter.” They are lovely and timeless. Then I can listen to gospel “The last Month of the Year” and then add some Ray Charles to it, a dash of Sinatra and a splash of Celtic Women and I reach an audible euphoria.
Now where is the Christ in this? I look at it this way. When I sit in a room looking at the beauty of the lights, listen to music, enjoy the warmth of my abode and am enjoy the flavors of the season all is good between God and I.
I sit wrapped in a throw and allow myself the gift of not forcing thought or forcing answers. I look with in and listen to what is being said. “Peace be still.” When was the last time I was still in a way that was pleasant, enjoyable or even kind? Not recently. Maybe just maybe God gave me this time to choose whether to be stressed out and strung out. Maybe this is a test as to did you learn anything or are you just going to suffer through another season?
Christmas comes in my heart in my way and I am good with that. To all who are broken, hurt or in need I offer you the blessings of this holiday. Nothing in a gift box but that you see peace of body, mind and soul. That you may see the positive and bring forth the joy that is within you and not fall into the prepackage propaganda of the season.
Okay T, I will put up the tree……
Take my home, loose my job but my cat? I miss her every day when I walk into my residence not to see her big round eyes and quiver tail. I know that too many, almost all of you she was just an animal or pet but to me she was unconditional love and understanding. No matter my living circumstance or income my kitty was the same. The same purrs. The same snuggles. The same coughing up of hairballs.
My other two cats have ran around the house crying in each room looking for her. How do you explain death to an animal? You can’t and that brings more tears for one who has left you.
I know that she is in heaven. Do not give me the argument about souls and animals. Heaven would not be heaven without the animals that I have had heal and love me. She is there and I am sure that for her there are many loving hands to pet and scratch her and that only the best treats are given seafood of course.
Then out of nowhere a good friend calls me and she was let go yesterday. I thought she was safe and had made it through the worst of it. Sadly, I was yet again wrong. I find that it takes the shine off of my holiday and leaves her in a vacuous of despair. Happy Holidays! She will awake New Year’s Day almost 60 in Detroit without a job. Where will she start and what will she do? She is still here and she will move on but the strength of faith, person and character will be tested in ways that I do not wish on anyone. What can one do when words fail and hugs are not enough? I pray and hope. I still hope. Only to ask why…
Now, back to the tree and the decking of the halls. I have another friend who is suffering through her own Christmas issues. I call her the recovering Catholic. She is on her spiritual quest. I think she may end with Buddhism? That is why it is a quest she may end up living on a mountain eating weeds and scattering wisdom. Then again may be not she does have a husband and I can’t see him eating weeds in a cave. Maybe if there was a large enough tv with a remote… no not so much.
Christmas to her is pain and suffering. Presents and demands. She also has had illness associate with the holiday. You would think that all this would push me to screw the holidays and eat pizza rolls and watch action movies. Oddly, it has had the opposite effect on me.
I will admit I miss the presents and snow men. It is the memories that haunt me. This haunting has positives and a barge full of negatives. I embrace the memories of it. I have made some choices. I am going to conveniently forget the barge of negativity. Yeah! With age comes easily accessible “forget it ness.” As my friend shared her feelings about Christmas I found myself sharing what it is that I like, enjoy and love about the holiday.
I like the music. It brings me comfort. The Vince Guaraldi Trio brings me a glow. Vince played the music for the Charlie Brown Christmas Special. Each note brings me into the safety and peace of childhood. There was life before peer pressure, mortgage payments and long work days. Guaraldi give me that again my shoulders relax and I can smell pine and citrus. I see snow as a miracle and do not dread it but look forward to snow men and hot chocolate. I think of snow angles and my gloves drying on the radiator. I think of church service and pretty dresses.
I know that this is a time of year that I should take comfort in Christ’s birth but in all honesty it has little to do with him. This is a day chosen by the church to undermine Pagan winter solstice celebrations, Saturnalia and Sol Invictus. We will promote Christianity with a festival designed to carry the correct message to all the worlds’ heathen. One of the first major marketing campaigns that went out of control... That is why Target has the crazy ad with the blonde waiting for black Friday. Will she just shut the hell up!?!?!?!
Slowing down…. Yes, Christ does enter into my Christmas but in a BCarol kind of way. Let me start with Christmas lights. There is something about the glow of lights on the tree and greenery. No other light just the sparkle of the bulbs. It is soft, warm and welcoming. There is not a harsh edge. There is no anger or antagonistic intent.
The scents. Yes, the freshness of pine. The sweetness of cinnamon. The aroma of baking cookies. All warm, giving and natural smells. I also take pleasure in the rich sweet scent of mulling cider.
The sounds music. This is a biggie! The music the soaring notes in traditional carols. I listen to the weight and rhyme of the words. The middle ages come to life through the cantor. Listen to the “Wexford Carol”,” I Saw Three Ships” or “In the Bleak of Midwinter.” They are lovely and timeless. Then I can listen to gospel “The last Month of the Year” and then add some Ray Charles to it, a dash of Sinatra and a splash of Celtic Women and I reach an audible euphoria.
Now where is the Christ in this? I look at it this way. When I sit in a room looking at the beauty of the lights, listen to music, enjoy the warmth of my abode and am enjoy the flavors of the season all is good between God and I.
I sit wrapped in a throw and allow myself the gift of not forcing thought or forcing answers. I look with in and listen to what is being said. “Peace be still.” When was the last time I was still in a way that was pleasant, enjoyable or even kind? Not recently. Maybe just maybe God gave me this time to choose whether to be stressed out and strung out. Maybe this is a test as to did you learn anything or are you just going to suffer through another season?
Christmas comes in my heart in my way and I am good with that. To all who are broken, hurt or in need I offer you the blessings of this holiday. Nothing in a gift box but that you see peace of body, mind and soul. That you may see the positive and bring forth the joy that is within you and not fall into the prepackage propaganda of the season.
Okay T, I will put up the tree……
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Ex-boss, Celie and “NO”
I have an ex-boss who is mad at God. When she said it aloud I was stunned. This from a woman who played by the rules. Went to school worked hard and was dedicated to her children and her faith. She too had suffered from long-term unemployment and has lost her home of 17 years. She tried to work with her bank went through her savings and could not help her son with his first year of college. Talk about never ending crap!
She is angry, bitter and disillusioned. Who wouldn’t be? She blames God for not answering her prayers in time. I told her that she has not been homeless, hungry or cold. “Yes, I know” was all I heard. All her friends of faith say the same thing. Oddly, that was all I had. There were no platitudes that would alleviate her emotional turmoil.
In a brief flash I thought of the Color Purple and Celie. “I’m poor. Black, I might even be ugly, but dear God I’m here. I’m here.” Then I realized that sometimes just being is all that God, Higher Power, Faith allows for. In all honesty in this day and age it isn’t enough. “What about” is how my thoughts have started these past years. My home, my job, gas in the car, electric bills, threatening phone calls was my life.
Now after loosing it all I am able to see things a wee bit more clearly.
Was it pleasant? Hell no! Would I do it again? Hell no! Why would anyone want too? Can I find my way? Maybe but there will still be many, M A N Y wrong turns in front of me. Yet, I am not mad at God. I am mad at human kind. I am mad at greed. I am disgusted with excess. I want to scream at the world that tells me why I am wrong and they are right. Still not at God do I raise my voice.
I prayed and sobbed not to loose all that I have. The prayer was answered with no! My tears still fell, my friends stood by me and life moved on. Still my anger is not at God. My anger comes to me in many ways. I hate me for not being a lawyer or such. I should have done better in school. I should have been true to myself. I should have had the positive energy to survive. I did not and while I can blame the world which I do, I blame me. Again, God gives tools and choices; I wasted mine for almost 50 years.
Anger at God still I answer no. The wonderful thing about anger and God is that God has shoulders strong enough and broad enough to handle any weight thrown. Along with that comes never ending forgiveness and understanding. Whatever your God is Christian, Buddhism, Islam or Judaism…. The shoulders remain strong and unyielding. Be mad at God and work through it. As in any relationship “no” is never easy and always causes some pain and grief.
The answer of “no” has caused me to become reflective and somewhat objective. I know what my heart said to me daily but my mind told me to live as I was instructed and expected too. While this may have pleased some it caused me to become old, weary, bitter and defeated. I have found with my “no” came answers. What did joy mean? What is happiness? What is it that makes my soul sing and beg to be free? Alas, without the painful “NO” from God I would have never of known.
Am I mad? You bet. Am I BCarol piss’d? Yes sir and do not let the venom of my anger touch you for it will cause pain and damage. Does God know? Yes, and in details that no one else will ever know. Now it is up to me to take all that I have learned. I must live, love and be who I am meant to be. Not likely will I be very popular but at least my anger will not be because of what I am but because I waited so long to be who I am.
She is angry, bitter and disillusioned. Who wouldn’t be? She blames God for not answering her prayers in time. I told her that she has not been homeless, hungry or cold. “Yes, I know” was all I heard. All her friends of faith say the same thing. Oddly, that was all I had. There were no platitudes that would alleviate her emotional turmoil.
In a brief flash I thought of the Color Purple and Celie. “I’m poor. Black, I might even be ugly, but dear God I’m here. I’m here.” Then I realized that sometimes just being is all that God, Higher Power, Faith allows for. In all honesty in this day and age it isn’t enough. “What about” is how my thoughts have started these past years. My home, my job, gas in the car, electric bills, threatening phone calls was my life.
Now after loosing it all I am able to see things a wee bit more clearly.
Was it pleasant? Hell no! Would I do it again? Hell no! Why would anyone want too? Can I find my way? Maybe but there will still be many, M A N Y wrong turns in front of me. Yet, I am not mad at God. I am mad at human kind. I am mad at greed. I am disgusted with excess. I want to scream at the world that tells me why I am wrong and they are right. Still not at God do I raise my voice.
I prayed and sobbed not to loose all that I have. The prayer was answered with no! My tears still fell, my friends stood by me and life moved on. Still my anger is not at God. My anger comes to me in many ways. I hate me for not being a lawyer or such. I should have done better in school. I should have been true to myself. I should have had the positive energy to survive. I did not and while I can blame the world which I do, I blame me. Again, God gives tools and choices; I wasted mine for almost 50 years.
Anger at God still I answer no. The wonderful thing about anger and God is that God has shoulders strong enough and broad enough to handle any weight thrown. Along with that comes never ending forgiveness and understanding. Whatever your God is Christian, Buddhism, Islam or Judaism…. The shoulders remain strong and unyielding. Be mad at God and work through it. As in any relationship “no” is never easy and always causes some pain and grief.
The answer of “no” has caused me to become reflective and somewhat objective. I know what my heart said to me daily but my mind told me to live as I was instructed and expected too. While this may have pleased some it caused me to become old, weary, bitter and defeated. I have found with my “no” came answers. What did joy mean? What is happiness? What is it that makes my soul sing and beg to be free? Alas, without the painful “NO” from God I would have never of known.
Am I mad? You bet. Am I BCarol piss’d? Yes sir and do not let the venom of my anger touch you for it will cause pain and damage. Does God know? Yes, and in details that no one else will ever know. Now it is up to me to take all that I have learned. I must live, love and be who I am meant to be. Not likely will I be very popular but at least my anger will not be because of what I am but because I waited so long to be who I am.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Hitler, the all you can drink beer buffet and a snappy jingle
It is yet another day in the life of BCarol. I know you may think how hard can that be? After all she is a reasonable being. She leans to the right, likes vodka and thinks that extremes are impractical and inane. Still I find that my moderation in things or is that moderation in life is not enough. I find that while in my own little corner of my own little room life is lovely however when I walk out of my sanctuary I am stunned into silence, resentment and melancholy.
Let me start with Hitler. Hitler a name that should never be used nor should anyone be referred to as. I was not an admirer of G.W. Busch but never did I think of him as Hitler nor would I ever speak such a thing. The same hold true for Obama. As a historical figure we have much to learn from Hitler as in what not to do. The United States is in its own mess but there are still check and balances. Everyone let it go. Stop using something so hideous, distasteful and repugnant. “Are you ready for some football” will never be the same to me. I do recognize that everyone has a right to their opinion. Have it, share it, but own it and do not back peddle. Think before you speak you can never take it back. Also when appearing on cable television dress for success not the local all you can drink beer buffet.
I have suffered some major setbacks of late which have sent me speeding down “the what the hell happened to me” highway. These are setbacks that will affect me for many years to come. My burden is mine to carry. Then I listen and watch the news and see Manning and the potential end of his career. End of his career?
The man is 35 years old. He has completed the following.
11× Pro Bowl selection (1999, 2000, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010)
5× First-team All-Pro selection (2003, 2004, 2005, 2008, 2009)
3× Second-team All-Pro selection (1999, 2000, 2006)
4× AP NFL MVP (2003, 2004, 2008, 2009)
6× AFC Player of the Year (1999, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2008, 2009)
Indianapolis Colts All-time leader (Career Wins, Passing Touchdowns , Pass Attempts, Pass Completions and Passing Yards)
Pro Bowl MVP (2005)
Super Bowl Champion (XLI)
Super Bowl MVP (XLI)
Fastest ever to reach 50,000 yards passing
Fastest to 4,000 completions
NFL 2000s All-Decade Team
This is pretty damn serious football. Yes, he is a great Q.B. Yes, he has a very serious injury. This injury could cause him great pain and who knows what else. Why risk it? I look at so many who have lost their jobs and careers. I look at those whose homes are gone...the children who will not attend college…the many juggling illness and treatment against a shrinking checkbook. Then I look at Payton. I do feel for him. His life has been this game. He has work every moment of his life and now it could be and will most likely disappear. It is sad.
Then I think. You have a Super Bowl Ring. You have your name in the record books. You have made a great deal of money doing what you love. Get over it! Retire. Go back to school do something else. Start your own business. Hell! Invest well and be a leader in some worthy cause. It worked from Jimmy Carter. Sympathy is something that I am giving away by the boat load and Payton you are at the back of the line. Yes, even Payton Manning has to step to the back of the preverbal sympathy line.
Then after working a 12 hour day I was listening to NPR (Market Place). As you know I have suffered a foreclosure. I tried everything I could think of to make good on my debt and stay in the home I loved. Didn’t work. I lost it. Then I heard this ….
Alisa Roth: Almost 3 million homeowners who are facing foreclosure have sought help from the government through a TARP-funded program. Only a quarter have managed to get their mortgage payments reduced.
“It was -- ironically enough -- three years ago today that the TARP went into effect, the $700 billion bank bailout that was supposed to bring the economy back from the brink, which it did, and help struggling homeowners, which it really didn't.”
“The program offered cash incentives to mortgage servicers to reduce mortgage payments for borrowers. But the conditions made it hard for a lot of homeowners to qualify. The government has spent only about $2 billion of the $50 billion the Treasury set aside.”
This is the link to the entire story. http://marketplace.publicradio.org/display/web/2011/10/03/pm-on-third-anniversary-tarp-mortgage-aid-lags/
I was one of those home owners who called the TARP funded programs. I sat on hold for hours. Never did I receive the same answers twice and my lender could give a ___________ (you fill in the blank) about my situation. Now I know why I was on hold for hours at a time. Hold is the place you send people you can’t help and hope and pray to God they hang up. The desperate do not hang up. After all if someone is calling you for assistance to save their home they are more than likely unemployed. The unemployed have nothing but time…lots and lots and lots of time. How much Judge Judy can you watch after all?
“Making Homes Affordable” was a lovely public relations campaign. It did not work but it made for a snappy jingle and lovely video of happy people standing next to buildings that represented homes. Now do I blame President Obama? Do I blame G.W. Bush? Do I blame Congress? Hell, yes I do! The powers that be are so busy trying to be re-elected, toadying to special interests that the needs of the common American are well shall we say unimportant and even distasteful? I do have one comfort, TARP did work for the country’s financial institutions after all they are able to give bonuses now. Just because your business was on the threshold of nonexistence is no reason to think hmmm maybe these idiots do not have a clue and they should earn the bonuses they deserve! Let us start with less than nothing and move down from there.
My mother wonders why I go to therapy maybe she should read my blog? Then again it may be best that she does not. After all Congress has deemed me…I may turn out to really be unimportant and distasteful!
Let me start with Hitler. Hitler a name that should never be used nor should anyone be referred to as. I was not an admirer of G.W. Busch but never did I think of him as Hitler nor would I ever speak such a thing. The same hold true for Obama. As a historical figure we have much to learn from Hitler as in what not to do. The United States is in its own mess but there are still check and balances. Everyone let it go. Stop using something so hideous, distasteful and repugnant. “Are you ready for some football” will never be the same to me. I do recognize that everyone has a right to their opinion. Have it, share it, but own it and do not back peddle. Think before you speak you can never take it back. Also when appearing on cable television dress for success not the local all you can drink beer buffet.
I have suffered some major setbacks of late which have sent me speeding down “the what the hell happened to me” highway. These are setbacks that will affect me for many years to come. My burden is mine to carry. Then I listen and watch the news and see Manning and the potential end of his career. End of his career?
The man is 35 years old. He has completed the following.
11× Pro Bowl selection (1999, 2000, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010)
5× First-team All-Pro selection (2003, 2004, 2005, 2008, 2009)
3× Second-team All-Pro selection (1999, 2000, 2006)
4× AP NFL MVP (2003, 2004, 2008, 2009)
6× AFC Player of the Year (1999, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2008, 2009)
Indianapolis Colts All-time leader (Career Wins, Passing Touchdowns , Pass Attempts, Pass Completions and Passing Yards)
Pro Bowl MVP (2005)
Super Bowl Champion (XLI)
Super Bowl MVP (XLI)
Fastest ever to reach 50,000 yards passing
Fastest to 4,000 completions
NFL 2000s All-Decade Team
This is pretty damn serious football. Yes, he is a great Q.B. Yes, he has a very serious injury. This injury could cause him great pain and who knows what else. Why risk it? I look at so many who have lost their jobs and careers. I look at those whose homes are gone...the children who will not attend college…the many juggling illness and treatment against a shrinking checkbook. Then I look at Payton. I do feel for him. His life has been this game. He has work every moment of his life and now it could be and will most likely disappear. It is sad.
Then I think. You have a Super Bowl Ring. You have your name in the record books. You have made a great deal of money doing what you love. Get over it! Retire. Go back to school do something else. Start your own business. Hell! Invest well and be a leader in some worthy cause. It worked from Jimmy Carter. Sympathy is something that I am giving away by the boat load and Payton you are at the back of the line. Yes, even Payton Manning has to step to the back of the preverbal sympathy line.
Then after working a 12 hour day I was listening to NPR (Market Place). As you know I have suffered a foreclosure. I tried everything I could think of to make good on my debt and stay in the home I loved. Didn’t work. I lost it. Then I heard this ….
Alisa Roth: Almost 3 million homeowners who are facing foreclosure have sought help from the government through a TARP-funded program. Only a quarter have managed to get their mortgage payments reduced.
“It was -- ironically enough -- three years ago today that the TARP went into effect, the $700 billion bank bailout that was supposed to bring the economy back from the brink, which it did, and help struggling homeowners, which it really didn't.”
“The program offered cash incentives to mortgage servicers to reduce mortgage payments for borrowers. But the conditions made it hard for a lot of homeowners to qualify. The government has spent only about $2 billion of the $50 billion the Treasury set aside.”
This is the link to the entire story. http://marketplace.publicradio.org/display/web/2011/10/03/pm-on-third-anniversary-tarp-mortgage-aid-lags/
I was one of those home owners who called the TARP funded programs. I sat on hold for hours. Never did I receive the same answers twice and my lender could give a ___________ (you fill in the blank) about my situation. Now I know why I was on hold for hours at a time. Hold is the place you send people you can’t help and hope and pray to God they hang up. The desperate do not hang up. After all if someone is calling you for assistance to save their home they are more than likely unemployed. The unemployed have nothing but time…lots and lots and lots of time. How much Judge Judy can you watch after all?
“Making Homes Affordable” was a lovely public relations campaign. It did not work but it made for a snappy jingle and lovely video of happy people standing next to buildings that represented homes. Now do I blame President Obama? Do I blame G.W. Bush? Do I blame Congress? Hell, yes I do! The powers that be are so busy trying to be re-elected, toadying to special interests that the needs of the common American are well shall we say unimportant and even distasteful? I do have one comfort, TARP did work for the country’s financial institutions after all they are able to give bonuses now. Just because your business was on the threshold of nonexistence is no reason to think hmmm maybe these idiots do not have a clue and they should earn the bonuses they deserve! Let us start with less than nothing and move down from there.
My mother wonders why I go to therapy maybe she should read my blog? Then again it may be best that she does not. After all Congress has deemed me…I may turn out to really be unimportant and distasteful!
Monday, September 19, 2011
A Zombie, The Lions and Gone With the Wind
Monday! It is raining, it is dull and on occasion a wee bit of sun light appears. I am sitting at my desk avoiding the work that I should be happily doing. My mind wonders to the comfort of my warm bed and loving pets. Three cats can make sleep look like a glorious option to any activity you may have planned or have in mind.
Instead I showered dressed and came to work. The weekend was far too short. I did learn one thing on my bliss filled Sunday. All things are possible. Before you think that I went to church and had a God moment, I did not. I had a Lions football moment.
For those of you who are not Lions fans let me explain. The Lions have won two regular season games! Now, for most teams that would be a “so what” kind of moment but for the Lions not so much. The Lions have had success in the past. The long ago past. The very, very long ago past.
There have been Lion conference championships in 1935, 1952, 1953 and 1957. NFL Champions in 1935, 1952, 1953 and 1957. It seems that if the Lions can win their conference nothing stops them from getting to the big party. It has only been 54 years since the Lions hit it big. If the Lions can win who says that other impossibilities cannot abound.
I am not talking about a balanced budget. No not the Democrats and the GOP working together. No not an end of unrest in the Middle East. These are earth shattering impossibilities. I am thinking of the simple impossibilities.
The impossibility of healing, I am now healing. This is what I considered to be an impossibility. Who knew healing could be such a pain in “whatever you care to name.” I being a survivor always thought healing was a soothing measure taken on by the body and mind to sustain life and its infinite joy. Alas, I was wrong. Healing is the step after having almost every minuscule cell of life energy ripped from your body. Yes, ripped no one gives it freely.
First, let me start with this whole forgiveness thing. I know in my body, mind and spirit that this is necessary to well being. I know that hate, anger and revenge causes the mind to become cold, uncaring and incapable of seeing what is good before it. Oddly, while one feels a sort of delight in revenge and hatred it is fleeting and frankly empty. It also takes a great deal of energy. Something that I have very little of and am not willing to waste on something so vapid. Maybe I should send the above to Congress? Hell, they have great insurance let them find their own therapist!!
My therapist tells me that I am the walking dead. Anesthetized! Frozen? Comatose! Having given up on the revenge thing I had not felt anything worth mentioning. Call me the Emotional Zombie! Wait. I am looking at three years of dismal, ominous and gloomy overcast but the Lions they have had this for 54 years.
For 54 years the team has practiced suited up and played every last game. The fans still came, beer was drunk and televisions played each lackluster, pitiful and hopeless season. I and the Lion franchise share a great deal. Now is this the year of a 500 season, play-offs maybe even the big party?
The Lions are lucky to know what success is. I am not so lucky. As an individual working her way through the new millennia I do not have bench marks that work. I had bench marks once. Education, job, savings, home and retirement are all things I was programmed to want and measured my successes. These measures seem to have bottomed out. I cannot reach any level that is acceptable to achieve these bench marks.
What is odd about these bench marks is that I was not happy with me (BCarol) when I had them. I was cranky, miserable and frankly exhausted. There was little joy in the bench marks. All I worried about was how the hell do I keep everything I have. This is no longer an issue I lost it all. All of it gone with the wind. Miss Scarlett and I have more in common then I dare thought.
Now the question becomes do I turn my loss into several failed marriages? Become a business manager that would make Ebenezer blush and ignore the one man who loved me for who I am? Scarlett did and was left alone with a stunning wardrobe and a lavish home. While lovely a home and a wardrobe is something that must be held on too. Again, Scarlett has nothing.
I am not Scarlett so what will I have? What do I want? How hard am I willing to work to gain it? I have learned that money is a means to an end. I can say that because it is just me. This is fortunate…a husband and children would change my view radically.
What is next? Peace of mind? Maybe a 500 season or the Super Bowl? Lord, I wish I knew.
Instead I showered dressed and came to work. The weekend was far too short. I did learn one thing on my bliss filled Sunday. All things are possible. Before you think that I went to church and had a God moment, I did not. I had a Lions football moment.
For those of you who are not Lions fans let me explain. The Lions have won two regular season games! Now, for most teams that would be a “so what” kind of moment but for the Lions not so much. The Lions have had success in the past. The long ago past. The very, very long ago past.
There have been Lion conference championships in 1935, 1952, 1953 and 1957. NFL Champions in 1935, 1952, 1953 and 1957. It seems that if the Lions can win their conference nothing stops them from getting to the big party. It has only been 54 years since the Lions hit it big. If the Lions can win who says that other impossibilities cannot abound.
I am not talking about a balanced budget. No not the Democrats and the GOP working together. No not an end of unrest in the Middle East. These are earth shattering impossibilities. I am thinking of the simple impossibilities.
The impossibility of healing, I am now healing. This is what I considered to be an impossibility. Who knew healing could be such a pain in “whatever you care to name.” I being a survivor always thought healing was a soothing measure taken on by the body and mind to sustain life and its infinite joy. Alas, I was wrong. Healing is the step after having almost every minuscule cell of life energy ripped from your body. Yes, ripped no one gives it freely.
First, let me start with this whole forgiveness thing. I know in my body, mind and spirit that this is necessary to well being. I know that hate, anger and revenge causes the mind to become cold, uncaring and incapable of seeing what is good before it. Oddly, while one feels a sort of delight in revenge and hatred it is fleeting and frankly empty. It also takes a great deal of energy. Something that I have very little of and am not willing to waste on something so vapid. Maybe I should send the above to Congress? Hell, they have great insurance let them find their own therapist!!
My therapist tells me that I am the walking dead. Anesthetized! Frozen? Comatose! Having given up on the revenge thing I had not felt anything worth mentioning. Call me the Emotional Zombie! Wait. I am looking at three years of dismal, ominous and gloomy overcast but the Lions they have had this for 54 years.
For 54 years the team has practiced suited up and played every last game. The fans still came, beer was drunk and televisions played each lackluster, pitiful and hopeless season. I and the Lion franchise share a great deal. Now is this the year of a 500 season, play-offs maybe even the big party?
The Lions are lucky to know what success is. I am not so lucky. As an individual working her way through the new millennia I do not have bench marks that work. I had bench marks once. Education, job, savings, home and retirement are all things I was programmed to want and measured my successes. These measures seem to have bottomed out. I cannot reach any level that is acceptable to achieve these bench marks.
What is odd about these bench marks is that I was not happy with me (BCarol) when I had them. I was cranky, miserable and frankly exhausted. There was little joy in the bench marks. All I worried about was how the hell do I keep everything I have. This is no longer an issue I lost it all. All of it gone with the wind. Miss Scarlett and I have more in common then I dare thought.
Now the question becomes do I turn my loss into several failed marriages? Become a business manager that would make Ebenezer blush and ignore the one man who loved me for who I am? Scarlett did and was left alone with a stunning wardrobe and a lavish home. While lovely a home and a wardrobe is something that must be held on too. Again, Scarlett has nothing.
I am not Scarlett so what will I have? What do I want? How hard am I willing to work to gain it? I have learned that money is a means to an end. I can say that because it is just me. This is fortunate…a husband and children would change my view radically.
What is next? Peace of mind? Maybe a 500 season or the Super Bowl? Lord, I wish I knew.
Monday, September 12, 2011
Dancing, Whiskey and Shakespeare
I am back from the dark depths of my life…. My therapist suggested that I keep a journal. Okay, back to the blog! Why? Let us see.
1. Four major family illness three of which were near death experiences – this included multiple hospital stays – many late nights and many, many, many drives to medical facilities across the Midwest.
2. The loss of not one but two jobs! This left me unemployed for a total of two and ½ years. No, I did not consider it a paid vacation. No, I did not enjoy it. Yes, I thank God for every extension of unemployment! Less government my ass!!! I have paid taxes and worked hard for years. I lived within my means and saved money. Did anyone offer me a bail out? No! The banks received a bailout and still foreclosed on my property. Talk about a win/win for them!
3. The foreclosure and loss of my home – This included the dance of (we can help you - no we can’t) with my financial institution. Then there was the game of how long can we keep you on hold government programs. Needless to say I won the on hold game but lost at the getting useful answers part.
4. Then there was the cracked head gasket on my car for $1,200
5. I went to court charged by Capital One because I could not pay my bill. Did I mention that I had contacted them asking for help but was told too bad? The court ordered me to pay monthly “something” I could afford. Would it not have been easier just to work with me?
6. Now I have not a nickel to my name or retirement, bad credit and a new job.
The therapist feels that I have been functioning in an emotional state of numbness. Wow, really? As if I had a choice? We, you, I do what we, you, I must. There was no time to sit and think “mom is sick I think I will tend to my emotional wounds”… I had to suck it up and be there. This holds true for my dad, aunt and cousin.
You do not have a job, you spend hours looking and networking. You cannot stop looking for work no matter your emotional state.
You loose your home you move. You keep walking. Luckily for me I made it through the darkness. I am one of the fortunate, lucky, no blessed. I have a job! I can pay my bills (mostly) and I have somewhere to live. Most in the Midwest cannot say the same. I am not sure what prayer worked or what God thought but I am grateful and thankful.
Now I find myself not able to express anger, joy, happiness or sadness. I did not think it was all bad but what I found was that just because I do not express it does not mean that I am not feeling it.
There is a peace in the ability not to feel. It has the effect of a well aged whiskey. It warms and requires little thought. Each swallow offers a satisfaction of completeness. However after too many swallows you can become ill, sluggish and melancholy. What I have found is that the waters of my soul are “muddy and bereft of beauty” (that was a little Shakespeare). No matter how calm I present myself to be I am a raging torrent of emotion.
The question is will I survive the storm or will I drown? It is up to me and only me. This is a life saving that can only be done through my own strength and determination. Gee, aren’t I just so damn lucky!
1. Four major family illness three of which were near death experiences – this included multiple hospital stays – many late nights and many, many, many drives to medical facilities across the Midwest.
2. The loss of not one but two jobs! This left me unemployed for a total of two and ½ years. No, I did not consider it a paid vacation. No, I did not enjoy it. Yes, I thank God for every extension of unemployment! Less government my ass!!! I have paid taxes and worked hard for years. I lived within my means and saved money. Did anyone offer me a bail out? No! The banks received a bailout and still foreclosed on my property. Talk about a win/win for them!
3. The foreclosure and loss of my home – This included the dance of (we can help you - no we can’t) with my financial institution. Then there was the game of how long can we keep you on hold government programs. Needless to say I won the on hold game but lost at the getting useful answers part.
4. Then there was the cracked head gasket on my car for $1,200
5. I went to court charged by Capital One because I could not pay my bill. Did I mention that I had contacted them asking for help but was told too bad? The court ordered me to pay monthly “something” I could afford. Would it not have been easier just to work with me?
6. Now I have not a nickel to my name or retirement, bad credit and a new job.
The therapist feels that I have been functioning in an emotional state of numbness. Wow, really? As if I had a choice? We, you, I do what we, you, I must. There was no time to sit and think “mom is sick I think I will tend to my emotional wounds”… I had to suck it up and be there. This holds true for my dad, aunt and cousin.
You do not have a job, you spend hours looking and networking. You cannot stop looking for work no matter your emotional state.
You loose your home you move. You keep walking. Luckily for me I made it through the darkness. I am one of the fortunate, lucky, no blessed. I have a job! I can pay my bills (mostly) and I have somewhere to live. Most in the Midwest cannot say the same. I am not sure what prayer worked or what God thought but I am grateful and thankful.
Now I find myself not able to express anger, joy, happiness or sadness. I did not think it was all bad but what I found was that just because I do not express it does not mean that I am not feeling it.
There is a peace in the ability not to feel. It has the effect of a well aged whiskey. It warms and requires little thought. Each swallow offers a satisfaction of completeness. However after too many swallows you can become ill, sluggish and melancholy. What I have found is that the waters of my soul are “muddy and bereft of beauty” (that was a little Shakespeare). No matter how calm I present myself to be I am a raging torrent of emotion.
The question is will I survive the storm or will I drown? It is up to me and only me. This is a life saving that can only be done through my own strength and determination. Gee, aren’t I just so damn lucky!
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