Yep, its that time of year again, Oktoberfest one of the best things about fall. You get to drink in the streets and everyone comes out to say "HI" Its like a city sponsored block party. I only wish it had an open bar. It becomes more and more expensive every year and I'm a poor white woman. So I have learned how to have a cheap to free Oktoberfest. And it helps that it doesn't take a lot of stimulants to get me going.
My Oktoberfest, so far, ours is one of the biggest in the nation and lasts for 9 days or some such drunken nonsense. Officially it kicks off on Friday at noon with the tapping of the golden keg...sounds like something out of a Billy Murray movie, but it's true. MY Oktoberfest kicked off Thursday with a quickly put together long lunch with Mr. Hopeful. Excuse me for a minute while I sigh and remember his everything.
Yeah that actually took a lot longer in real time than it did for you.
Friday I worked all day, and at 5pm my Fest began. My daughter, who will turn 24 on Wednesday, and is having a costume party at the local gay bar on Tuesday, is in a local theater production of The Rocky Horror Picture show. For those of you that know the show she's playing the usherette and sings Science Fiction Double Feature. I'm so proud. Anyway, the cast was performing a preview at the Northside Fest grounds on Friday night, and of course I represented. And of course she was wonderful. I could actually hear her over the people and horrible sound system. When she hit the stage I was so proud and my first thought upon seeing her in this costume was, "OMG she IS my daughter....Look at those LEGS! Every guy that is my friend and not her dad or brother is going to say, pretty much the same thing, with a possible added, YES! and fist pump for the twenty to thirty year olds.
After I came home for a few and got my pre-downtown buzz on, texted a few girl friends and guy friends and told them where I was going to be. Didn't tell any of the toys, but did tell the entire A Team, as I always do, just in case. You love to have the A Team show up for a party. And Mr. Hopeful was instrumental in convincing me I should go out alone and have fun. Maybe I'll meet someone amazing. And guess what? I did.
It was a very strong recognition. I've had them before and they always end up very important people in my life, and in some form or another end up staying involved in my life, even if its long distance because of Life. So I took the feeling serious. She did too. She is 37 (what is it with that generation and me?) and looks like I imagine Cleopatra must have really looked....with that black hair that dreads so easily, and beautiful caramel colored skin that I will never have. (I'm peaches and cream with the sunburned picture on my profile to prove it) We tried and tried to come up with a connection of who we knew in this life that we could have met through. And nothing. NOTHING! That in and of itself is strange, because I know a lot of people that function in a lot of different realms of society in this town. Finally we decide it doesn't matter we have met now, and it must be 'past life intruding on present time'. Thank you Ghostbusters. While I could blog for hours on how similar our lives have been so far down to our childrens age difference and her husband being in a band, and her first childbirth experience and gender is very similar to mine, and my first one wasn't routine...we have the same birthday! This was when the goose pimples started. And we got each others sense of humor in the first three sentences of realizing we didn't know each other but knew each other. THAT is also rare. Very rare.
At one point in time by the bar, My Twin and her girlfriend were comparing the size of their tits...like you you....and knowing the A Team was not meeting me(although they are gonna wish they had when they read this), I dressed like a boy, with girly underthings...like you do. They were not dressed like boys so they could compare by standing and adjusting their posture, I had to pull up my T-shirt to be able to show them they were outclassed. They both said, "Right ON!" Shortly after that we were hugging and realizing that we might have been twins in a past life....we just knew. Something clicked inside both of us and as we hugged we both said, almost at the same time, "I've been looking for you for a long time." I can't wait to read her cards. We also found out that we tend to adopt girl friends as sisters...lots of them....but none of them are quite right. No offense, my little sisters, but this may be my twin. We both have never called any of them twin, except when meeting others with our birthday, and calling them Corsican Twin. After the Corsican Brothers (french novel or Cheech and Chong movie...take your pick). But it's never had this feeling of 'right' and 'found' attached to it....except with BoBo and Death. But they are boys...not twins.
We exchanged digits and they went on their way but came back in time for the shows. Nimbus (my new favorite progressive rock instrumental band) and The Sweat Boys (wrote a song with the founding member of the band-who has a built in alias-Benny Sweat. His wonderful wife....who shall be called Bette after her fabulous Bette Paige bangs...was there, and I love rare moments to bond with the wives of my male friends). Anyway we all danced all night to each others bands and our song was a hit with Nimbus...even though it had words. ;) I danced all night! I haven't done that in so long that I was sore the next morning....of course some of that could have been due to Thursday --hehee....
Saturday after about 4 hours of sleep I was up and flirting on line with Mr. Hopeful....a beautiful weekly event....I headed downtown again, for the Oktoberfest Parade. And it was a blast. Ran into so many of my Pat Head friends! And got so many hugs, I decided that it should be required for anyone who is depressed. The hugs alone will cure you! Mr. Applefest gave the best one, picked me right off the ground and gave me a kiss on the cheek. Now that's a hello! I'll see you at Pat McCurdy on Thursday. I can't wait, that will be the closing of my Oktoberfest, and I might be able to make my Parade girl friends house after for the Tourchlight Parade of Oktoberfest goes right past her house....or I might just hang with the Pat Heads...who knows.
I was and am happy that I could just flow with the chaos of no planning or very little planning for this weekend. Not my normal comfort zone at all. After all I am Fate and that Tapistery just don't get 'done'. It takes a lot of planning. Chaos is not my normal state, but I enjoyed myself so much that I might consider doing that again.
Cheers.
Sunday, September 30, 2012
Sunday, September 23, 2012
The Wrath
So for the last three months I have been battling with my hormones. This is apparently completely normal for my 'time of life' and I'm entirely not happy with it. But I move through the waves of paranoia, fear, doubt and guilt, that accompany my feelings of trust, confidence, calm, and innocence. My emotions are continually changing in any given conversation like a spastic child turning on and off a light switch just to annoy his parents. I'm getting pretty good at it, although I did have a melt down Friday and I commend any of my family and friends who are still talking to me. Those of you that missed it consider yourself lucky that I was able to spare you the wrath and swift strike of my emotional judgment. It ain't pretty, and I ain't proud of it. But it's there. And apparently it's going to be there until it stops. And I hope that will be soon. Time will tell.
WARNING: If you don't like talking about sex stop reading now. thanks
The raging hormones have become somewhat humorous as well. I find myself attracted to all sorts of penis. Yes..that's right, just the penis...I find that except in the rare cases of Mr. Hopeful, Mr. Practical and That Guy, I'm not interested at all in who is attached to said penis. Kind of like a 17 year old boy, who just sees boobs, and never really looks at your eyes...you know that guy. Anyway...I've never been this woman. Far from it. In fact I usually don't even notice when a guy is interested in me. To which any of you that have been out with me can attest. I just don't care enough, unless you have the balls to actually talk to me, why should I notice? Anyway...not anymore. Now my head is on a lazy-susan, and just spins.
I know it's my biological clock saying, "Lets MOVE these eggs NOW! MOVE! MOVE IT!" Like a Marine Corps Drill Sargent getting the troops ready for the coming enemy. While my body is demanding I procreate, my mind is saying. "UH..NOPE. Not happening." And my mind wins every time. Hands down. But it doesn't erase or stop the biology of it. That wave of pent up emotions floods through my every day life and colors all I see with irrational fears. I know it's what most of us experience on a daily basis and can control quite easily that irritating voice that tells us our doom. Imagine that you can't control it. Imagine that the volume switch in your head that controls that is broken, and the voice just keeps on telling you how wrong you are in every decision you make, and how untrustworthy everyone you love is. That's what it's like. I know on an intellectual level what it is...but some days...my emotions win.
This got me thinking about how women of my age, and younger who are para-menopausal, go through these extreme life changes. Some turn into cougars after years of happy marriage (or years of pretending to be happy). Some become so uninterested in sex that their husbands throw up their hands in defeat and acquire said cougar for a mistress. Or they may have their own male menopause which might have to be a blog next week...but mistress it is. Some just cry all the time, which is so attractive...not. And others are angry all the time, same attractiveness level. I wonder if it's hormonal when a long time lesbian is all of a sudden attracted to a penis....hum....kind of gives credence to the old excuse of , "I don't KNOW what happened." I've been trying to fight mine with humor. And so far it is serving me well, however on really bad days I find my sarcastic tone to be almost unbearable even for me.
I also notice that the slightest change in a persons normal pattern immediately conjures up some deficit in me rather than in an emergency or technical difficulty or some other normal excuse for not spending time with me. This is also not the woman I ever was. I act like it's cool, but it so plays on all those fears and paranoia. For example: Is Mr. Hopeful not talking to me this morning because he all of a sudden is trying to break up with me? Or is it because his internet is failing again and he might just be busy? You see in this example how both voices are raging, and how I try to listen to the logical one, but the louder one usually wins...even if its just until the next persons change in pattern distracts me to them. And then comes the WRATH. All I can hear in my mind is Kevin Spacey's character (John Doe) in Seven saying to Brad Pitt's character (David Mills): "Become wrath." This makes me smile....my sense of humor is evil on occasion, and I think that helps.
I hold in the wrath no matter who it's directed to, until after months or weeks of swallowing that bile, I find that I can't hold it any longer and it comes exploding out on the person that deserves it. I try not to have my exploding bile (sounds like a D&D monster...Mr. Practical can you work on that for your campaign? Thank you.) pile up on to any one person, or take something out on you that you don't deserve. I have compartments for all of you, and I keep track of your bile meters. I try to use the exhaust valve whenever I can talk myself out of this irrational emotional trend, and that works too. Usually a well meaning friend talks me down from the cliff or pit I'm about to toss myself into. And thankfully after the last three months and only one really serious melt down, I am happy to report that I think I'm getting use to this....
Well maybe not happy to report, but at least this means I'm trying to get a handle on this, and it is getting better from my point of view. I hope it's getting better from yours. However the one thing I can say for certain, is I have felt over the last three months, with all the disappointment and all the cancelled plans, and all the job ups and downs, that I've gotten stronger again. And much less likely to fall into that pit. I see it over there, but I didn't like being in it last November and December. That sucked. And the holidays are fast approaching....I don't want to be there again. And my plan is to avoid it. I'm trying to busy myself with people and activities. I'm trying to ignore the pain of my loneliness and realize that while I may not have anyone lying next to me, at least I don't have anyone lying to me.
cheers
WARNING: If you don't like talking about sex stop reading now. thanks
The raging hormones have become somewhat humorous as well. I find myself attracted to all sorts of penis. Yes..that's right, just the penis...I find that except in the rare cases of Mr. Hopeful, Mr. Practical and That Guy, I'm not interested at all in who is attached to said penis. Kind of like a 17 year old boy, who just sees boobs, and never really looks at your eyes...you know that guy. Anyway...I've never been this woman. Far from it. In fact I usually don't even notice when a guy is interested in me. To which any of you that have been out with me can attest. I just don't care enough, unless you have the balls to actually talk to me, why should I notice? Anyway...not anymore. Now my head is on a lazy-susan, and just spins.
I know it's my biological clock saying, "Lets MOVE these eggs NOW! MOVE! MOVE IT!" Like a Marine Corps Drill Sargent getting the troops ready for the coming enemy. While my body is demanding I procreate, my mind is saying. "UH..NOPE. Not happening." And my mind wins every time. Hands down. But it doesn't erase or stop the biology of it. That wave of pent up emotions floods through my every day life and colors all I see with irrational fears. I know it's what most of us experience on a daily basis and can control quite easily that irritating voice that tells us our doom. Imagine that you can't control it. Imagine that the volume switch in your head that controls that is broken, and the voice just keeps on telling you how wrong you are in every decision you make, and how untrustworthy everyone you love is. That's what it's like. I know on an intellectual level what it is...but some days...my emotions win.
This got me thinking about how women of my age, and younger who are para-menopausal, go through these extreme life changes. Some turn into cougars after years of happy marriage (or years of pretending to be happy). Some become so uninterested in sex that their husbands throw up their hands in defeat and acquire said cougar for a mistress. Or they may have their own male menopause which might have to be a blog next week...but mistress it is. Some just cry all the time, which is so attractive...not. And others are angry all the time, same attractiveness level. I wonder if it's hormonal when a long time lesbian is all of a sudden attracted to a penis....hum....kind of gives credence to the old excuse of , "I don't KNOW what happened." I've been trying to fight mine with humor. And so far it is serving me well, however on really bad days I find my sarcastic tone to be almost unbearable even for me.
I also notice that the slightest change in a persons normal pattern immediately conjures up some deficit in me rather than in an emergency or technical difficulty or some other normal excuse for not spending time with me. This is also not the woman I ever was. I act like it's cool, but it so plays on all those fears and paranoia. For example: Is Mr. Hopeful not talking to me this morning because he all of a sudden is trying to break up with me? Or is it because his internet is failing again and he might just be busy? You see in this example how both voices are raging, and how I try to listen to the logical one, but the louder one usually wins...even if its just until the next persons change in pattern distracts me to them. And then comes the WRATH. All I can hear in my mind is Kevin Spacey's character (John Doe) in Seven saying to Brad Pitt's character (David Mills): "Become wrath." This makes me smile....my sense of humor is evil on occasion, and I think that helps.
I hold in the wrath no matter who it's directed to, until after months or weeks of swallowing that bile, I find that I can't hold it any longer and it comes exploding out on the person that deserves it. I try not to have my exploding bile (sounds like a D&D monster...Mr. Practical can you work on that for your campaign? Thank you.) pile up on to any one person, or take something out on you that you don't deserve. I have compartments for all of you, and I keep track of your bile meters. I try to use the exhaust valve whenever I can talk myself out of this irrational emotional trend, and that works too. Usually a well meaning friend talks me down from the cliff or pit I'm about to toss myself into. And thankfully after the last three months and only one really serious melt down, I am happy to report that I think I'm getting use to this....
Well maybe not happy to report, but at least this means I'm trying to get a handle on this, and it is getting better from my point of view. I hope it's getting better from yours. However the one thing I can say for certain, is I have felt over the last three months, with all the disappointment and all the cancelled plans, and all the job ups and downs, that I've gotten stronger again. And much less likely to fall into that pit. I see it over there, but I didn't like being in it last November and December. That sucked. And the holidays are fast approaching....I don't want to be there again. And my plan is to avoid it. I'm trying to busy myself with people and activities. I'm trying to ignore the pain of my loneliness and realize that while I may not have anyone lying next to me, at least I don't have anyone lying to me.
cheers
Sunday, September 16, 2012
WOW
They say "Life is a journey" and boy are they correct. Lately, well over the last couple of months I've been spending a lot more time with one of my distractions. That Guy. Spending time with him makes not spending time with Mr. Hopeful bearable. I don't know why this is so, but it is. And before you say, eww, and imagine all sorts of things that aren't going on, let me say the relationships are very, very different. I don't bring my "A Game to toys and friends, only lovers. I love Mr. Hopeful, and as hopefully romantic as this sounds, he is the greatest love of my life. I want too much from him. I know this, or maybe I don't want too much, but maybe he's the wrong guy to want it from. This intelligence does nothing for my heart and doesn't change a thing, it only makes me sad to realize that, once again, I have put my love and adoration into the wrong man's hands. Into a man who either doesn't have the time, or doesn't make the time to express what he says he feels about me. He tries, it just always seems to fall apart. I bet a lot of you can relate to this kind of life style. Too much going on, too many irons in the fire, and never enough time to do the things you want to do once you find them...there's a song in there somewhere, but i forget the title...old song about loving your kids...Bobby, help me with this?
This is such a confusion to me, because I almost always go for what I want and damn the consequences. Selfish? Perhaps. But it's my life, and as long as no one is getting hurt, why should I care what anyone else may think? I'm not here to judge you and you aren't here to judge me.
*****THIS BLOG HAS BEEN TEMPORARILY INTERRUPTED FOR UNSCHEDULED, BLISSFULLY ROMANTIC AND SPONTANEOUS SEX*****
If that offends you, stop reading my blog now. I'll give you time to unfriend, unsubscribe, uncola, whatever you have to do.
*****
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*
Where was I? I can't remember. All I see is his face, his smile...All I hear is his voice, his desires...It's still enough to see just how much he cares about us. And every time I'm about ready to believe it's over, he proves me wrong. Every time. If that's not a connection, I don't know what one is.
Good morning. :)
This is such a confusion to me, because I almost always go for what I want and damn the consequences. Selfish? Perhaps. But it's my life, and as long as no one is getting hurt, why should I care what anyone else may think? I'm not here to judge you and you aren't here to judge me.
*****THIS BLOG HAS BEEN TEMPORARILY INTERRUPTED FOR UNSCHEDULED, BLISSFULLY ROMANTIC AND SPONTANEOUS SEX*****
If that offends you, stop reading my blog now. I'll give you time to unfriend, unsubscribe, uncola, whatever you have to do.
*****
****
***
**
*
Where was I? I can't remember. All I see is his face, his smile...All I hear is his voice, his desires...It's still enough to see just how much he cares about us. And every time I'm about ready to believe it's over, he proves me wrong. Every time. If that's not a connection, I don't know what one is.
Good morning. :)
Sunday, September 9, 2012
All About The A Team....
Some of you may know from reading this blog that my Sunday morning ritual usually consists of me getting up early to read Post Secret with my coffee before posting and then getting on with my day...but my weekend has been a bit flipped on its end this week. This morning I slept in, and was awakened, joyfully, by Mr. Hopeful with 'good morning' wishes. I love it when he finds time to do this. It sounds like such a small thing, but it is not. It is huge to take time to say that, to express your heart and be open and vulnerable with someone you trust completely. It makes up for the time we can't spend together that we both want and wish for. I know this, and it makes me happy, but some days it also makes me regret all the chances I did not take with him, that I should have. As my first husband would say, "Oh well." (cue Fleetwood Mac)
So, my usual morning ritual is now taking place almost two hours later than it should. While reading Post Secret today, there were a couple of ones about regret that stuck with me, the first was, "I'll never regret anything more than the chances I didn't take with you." That one I've already expressed how hard it hit, and who it reminded me of, the other one, "I walked away. Reconsidered. Walked back to kiss you. Whatever that meant. You were already on the plane." WOW...that one snapped me all the way back to Mr. Practical. And a vacation two springs ago that I had such a difficult time coming home from. In fact, That Guy threatened, "Don't make me come out there and bring you back." Is funner now than it was then. I regret getting on that plane, and leaving Mr. Practical. Almost as much as I regret all the missed opportunities with Mr. Hopeful. At least That Guy is a good enough friend to keep me distracted from all my self made drama.
You know that's the real kicker isn't? All of this regret is something I've allowed to happen in my life. Now here is where all you arm chair psychiatrists are going to weigh in with the 'why's' and the psycho-babble of what that means. And it means nothing really. The reason I have drama in my life is not because I want drama. It's because I'm still alive and want to live my life and love. And love is always a risk. Always full of drama. Because you can't love someone completely, and not make yourself vulnerable to the possibility that you will be hurt...or that you will hurt them.
And here's the next bit. Am I hurt? No, not really. Not unless I allow myself to dwell on things from the past that I can't change. Not unless I fall too deeply in a fantasy world of what I think I have with them as compared to what I have with them. Not unless I want too much. I might have to group my distractions into two different catagories...The A Team and the Benched Toys. LOL....Speaking of benched toys, Mr. Confident and Crisis are nowhere to be seen and I haven't heard from either in months, again. I like to make bets with myself as to how long it will take them to miss me enough to text me. Crisis, I never expect to see again, and while I'll be nice if I do, I really think I'll pretend not to see him if I do. And Mr. Confident, well, he's so confident..I expect that in a couple more months he'll, out of the blue, contact me. I plan to be washing my hair that night. The A Team I am much more interested in spending time with, and find myself dropping things to do so. This is not a problem for me. I like having plans. But you know the A Team...always on the move fighting crime....so it's exciting to spontaneously try to meet. Keeps it special. Keeps it necessary. Makes me feel like I'm missed so much, that they just had to plan something to see me, or hope to catch me.
What I don't like, is the feeling that I'm always second in their plans. I know this isn't always true, I know sometimes I AM the plan. LOL....but....can you blame me for wanting more? Can you blame me for deserving just one of them full time? Or maybe a weekly night....something to look forward to....a planned time together. See this is the wanting too much part...
And so I stumble along, collecting more and more applications for The A Team...or the Toy Chest...or...perhaps someday soon....I might actually meet the Coach...wouldn't that be the REAL kicker...
To meet a man, that has me so smitten, that I'd give the Toy Chest to Goodwill...and my fond farewells to The A Team? The funny thing about the A Team, is they all individually believe that I would never stop seeing them. That even if I found the Coach, and was happy and in a committed relationship, I'd still go out and party with them, or meet them on line...'just to chat' or ....well you get the idea. And you know what? They may be right. Over the last two years I have become quite connected to them. Maybe too much...maybe not. The only thing I know for sure, is that I'm much happier living this life than I ever was married. As difficult as the logistics are...I find myself stronger and more confident with them in my lives then I did without them. And for that, I will always be thankful for my A Team.....
.....maybe I should be the Coach.....
now I'm just thinking naughty....better stop while I'm ahead.
Cheers. :)
So, my usual morning ritual is now taking place almost two hours later than it should. While reading Post Secret today, there were a couple of ones about regret that stuck with me, the first was, "I'll never regret anything more than the chances I didn't take with you." That one I've already expressed how hard it hit, and who it reminded me of, the other one, "I walked away. Reconsidered. Walked back to kiss you. Whatever that meant. You were already on the plane." WOW...that one snapped me all the way back to Mr. Practical. And a vacation two springs ago that I had such a difficult time coming home from. In fact, That Guy threatened, "Don't make me come out there and bring you back." Is funner now than it was then. I regret getting on that plane, and leaving Mr. Practical. Almost as much as I regret all the missed opportunities with Mr. Hopeful. At least That Guy is a good enough friend to keep me distracted from all my self made drama.
You know that's the real kicker isn't? All of this regret is something I've allowed to happen in my life. Now here is where all you arm chair psychiatrists are going to weigh in with the 'why's' and the psycho-babble of what that means. And it means nothing really. The reason I have drama in my life is not because I want drama. It's because I'm still alive and want to live my life and love. And love is always a risk. Always full of drama. Because you can't love someone completely, and not make yourself vulnerable to the possibility that you will be hurt...or that you will hurt them.
And here's the next bit. Am I hurt? No, not really. Not unless I allow myself to dwell on things from the past that I can't change. Not unless I fall too deeply in a fantasy world of what I think I have with them as compared to what I have with them. Not unless I want too much. I might have to group my distractions into two different catagories...The A Team and the Benched Toys. LOL....Speaking of benched toys, Mr. Confident and Crisis are nowhere to be seen and I haven't heard from either in months, again. I like to make bets with myself as to how long it will take them to miss me enough to text me. Crisis, I never expect to see again, and while I'll be nice if I do, I really think I'll pretend not to see him if I do. And Mr. Confident, well, he's so confident..I expect that in a couple more months he'll, out of the blue, contact me. I plan to be washing my hair that night. The A Team I am much more interested in spending time with, and find myself dropping things to do so. This is not a problem for me. I like having plans. But you know the A Team...always on the move fighting crime....so it's exciting to spontaneously try to meet. Keeps it special. Keeps it necessary. Makes me feel like I'm missed so much, that they just had to plan something to see me, or hope to catch me.
What I don't like, is the feeling that I'm always second in their plans. I know this isn't always true, I know sometimes I AM the plan. LOL....but....can you blame me for wanting more? Can you blame me for deserving just one of them full time? Or maybe a weekly night....something to look forward to....a planned time together. See this is the wanting too much part...
And so I stumble along, collecting more and more applications for The A Team...or the Toy Chest...or...perhaps someday soon....I might actually meet the Coach...wouldn't that be the REAL kicker...
To meet a man, that has me so smitten, that I'd give the Toy Chest to Goodwill...and my fond farewells to The A Team? The funny thing about the A Team, is they all individually believe that I would never stop seeing them. That even if I found the Coach, and was happy and in a committed relationship, I'd still go out and party with them, or meet them on line...'just to chat' or ....well you get the idea. And you know what? They may be right. Over the last two years I have become quite connected to them. Maybe too much...maybe not. The only thing I know for sure, is that I'm much happier living this life than I ever was married. As difficult as the logistics are...I find myself stronger and more confident with them in my lives then I did without them. And for that, I will always be thankful for my A Team.....
.....maybe I should be the Coach.....
now I'm just thinking naughty....better stop while I'm ahead.
Cheers. :)
Sunday, September 2, 2012
Learning To Love Yourself
People think they do this all the time. They think they are loving themselves but few really understand that to truly love yourself you need to be selfish. That's right, selfish. I'm not saying that you shouldn't be there when a loved one needs you or listen to a dear friend when they have a problem, but you need to remember that you are the most important person in any equation. In any relationship, your needs must be filled first in order to truly give to another person.
Here is an example that might make it clear. You know how great a mother's, (father's) love is, right? You already know that a parent will give up their own life to save their children. However, the parent must be alive to do this. This is why on airplanes they instruct that you secure the oxygen mask on your own mouth before attempting to save your child. If you don't guess what happens....you both die. Selfish first, wins that battle. And that is the lesson in all of life.
You must think of your own needs and how to fulfill them first before you can be truly happy in life. If you don't you are a constant giver, and caretaker, and that is exhausting. And while you think you are doing the right thing, you are not, because your loved ones needs become a chore, instead of the joy it is suppose to be.
That's right joy. When someone you care about, or love or whatever you want to call it, needs you, that's an honor. They want to spend part of their lives with you. Be it an hour or a lifetime. Remember that. No one has to say yes to your invitations or even your basic needs, unless they want to. We all have freewill. And we use it....every day of our lives, even if we don't want to admit it, we do. We spend time with the people we want to, we live the life we choose, or we wouldn't live it.
So if you are unhappy it is your own fault. Your own choice. You choose to be unhappy. I believe many depressed people suffer from this simple fact, that they are afraid or paralyzed or trapped into any other choice, or feel they are. Of course some depression is chemical, but most is not. Most is an inability to be selfish, and live the lives we dream of. I use to think that being selfish was wrong, now I know all acts are selfish ones, we just don't choose to look at them that way because of society. Society is wrong most of the time. And what society deems as appropriate or good is often the opposite when really looked at under an intelligent and experienced eye. I for one have always been skeptical of the sheep that follow along blindly to any leader, I've always been one to question from the fringes. And I am much happier marching to my own drummer and singing my own tune.....
.....then again, I'm selfish.
Cheers
Here is an example that might make it clear. You know how great a mother's, (father's) love is, right? You already know that a parent will give up their own life to save their children. However, the parent must be alive to do this. This is why on airplanes they instruct that you secure the oxygen mask on your own mouth before attempting to save your child. If you don't guess what happens....you both die. Selfish first, wins that battle. And that is the lesson in all of life.
You must think of your own needs and how to fulfill them first before you can be truly happy in life. If you don't you are a constant giver, and caretaker, and that is exhausting. And while you think you are doing the right thing, you are not, because your loved ones needs become a chore, instead of the joy it is suppose to be.
That's right joy. When someone you care about, or love or whatever you want to call it, needs you, that's an honor. They want to spend part of their lives with you. Be it an hour or a lifetime. Remember that. No one has to say yes to your invitations or even your basic needs, unless they want to. We all have freewill. And we use it....every day of our lives, even if we don't want to admit it, we do. We spend time with the people we want to, we live the life we choose, or we wouldn't live it.
So if you are unhappy it is your own fault. Your own choice. You choose to be unhappy. I believe many depressed people suffer from this simple fact, that they are afraid or paralyzed or trapped into any other choice, or feel they are. Of course some depression is chemical, but most is not. Most is an inability to be selfish, and live the lives we dream of. I use to think that being selfish was wrong, now I know all acts are selfish ones, we just don't choose to look at them that way because of society. Society is wrong most of the time. And what society deems as appropriate or good is often the opposite when really looked at under an intelligent and experienced eye. I for one have always been skeptical of the sheep that follow along blindly to any leader, I've always been one to question from the fringes. And I am much happier marching to my own drummer and singing my own tune.....
.....then again, I'm selfish.
Cheers
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