The Long Climb

Sometimes, we find it difficult to write. Whether it is on our blogs, Facebook, or other means of social media. Some call it “writers block”, but sometimes, it’s just everyday events that just get in the way. Emotional garbage just blocks up the creative flow.

Sometimes, the garbage is so packed in there that it blocks more than creativity… it blocks our need to express ourselves, in general.

Good things happen and we want to say something, but we don’t know how to get past the emotional blockage.

Crappy things happen, and we want to say something, but the words just won’t come.

Horrible events occur, and we try to open our mouths, but we know if we break through that dam of emotional garbage, a river is going to flow and it’s going to be out of control. No one will understand where this raging flood came from.

So it’s just easier to keep things in, keep quiet, and maybe even disappear for a while.

Until you end up here.

pit

The journey out isn’t easy. It’s a long climb. When you realize you’ve isolated yourself, sometimes those voices in your head tell you it’s too late to reach out. It’s a tough battle, fighting those voices, especially when your worst fear is rejection.

It’s a hard climb. Your hands are as raw as your emotions, and the journey up is exhausting. Sometimes you slip, just as you think you’re making so much progress and you think you’re going to get out.

You’ll have moments when you want to let go of that wall and fall all the way back to the bottom, just because you’re having a bad day on your journey and you’re losing hope.

But you keep going. You rest, you breathe, and you start again. It’s a long fucking climb, and that pit is deep. But eventually …. someday….

The pit is always there, but I know where it is now. If I fall in, I know where the good rocks are in the wall. I know how to get out.

Spring Cleaning

Some of you know I’ve started my own business. Tempest Mystic Products is my baby. I sell handmade incense, room sprays made from essential oils, and I’m starting to make bath salts. I also do custom oil blends upon request.

I work out of my home, and I use my home office and my garage for my production area. As a result, it got to the point where I couldn’t really move around in my home office, between all the inventory I had and all the gadgets, books, and other things I’ve accumulated over the years. It was time to do a spring cleaning.

Continue reading “Spring Cleaning”

Letters Never Sent

Eight years ago today, I finally got out of an abusive relationship. I spent fifteen years with that man, and it ended in an event I refer to as “the bad thing”. This year was the first year I didn’t have nightmares about my ex, or the bad thing. That’s progress.

Today’s post is about letting things go, and saying things I want to say to someone who can no longer hurt me. A letter I’ll never send, because he’s really not worth my time, and because I have to get it out.
Continue reading “Letters Never Sent”

Body Dysmorphic Disorder

There are many articles on Body Dysmorphic Disorder; from what can cause it, to the lengths people go to in order to obtain that “perfect body”, to how our media contributes to this condition. In this post, I write about the thought process behind BDD.

menopause express body image

 

Continue reading “Body Dysmorphic Disorder”

Hey – We’re out of straws!

I spent my day off yesterday wondering how I would go back to work today. I was dreading it. I was wavering back and forth between panic and tears. Mr. Magick Man had his own list of things he wanted me to follow-up on for an upcoming trip he’s taking, too. I decided that was it. I can’t start my business, be someone’s personal assistant, cook dinner, and stand on my feet all day. But I wasn’t going to quit on Friday. I’d at least talk to the manager so they could find coverage for Saturday.

I went in and started my shift. I wasn’t happy to be there. All I could think about was how slow I was compared to everyone else. The store was opening and people started coming in. The Friday hoard invaded.

No one understands that you’re new on Friday. Everyone is in a hurry.

This one older guy walked in. He was probably no more than 10 years older than me, but his face really showed his age, y’know? He had a smile on his face and said he’d been looking for a bakery all morning. Considering it was only about 8:15am, he couldn’t have been looking very long… He seemed like a nice guy. He ordered a mixture of pastries and a few cinnamon rolls. These needed a larger box. The box I pulled would have fit, but I’d need to stack some of the pastries. Suddenly, Dr. Nice Customer turns into Mr. Hyde and says in this snippy voice, “Don’t stack them all in one box! Put them all in one layer. I don’t want them messed up!”  So I get the longest box we have, which won’t hold all of them in one layer, btw, and start to box the pastries. I have 4 left over, and I start to get another box. Mr. Hyde then says, “Don’t you know anything?! Do I have to come back there and do it myself? Put them all in that box!” I then replied, “You said not to stack them. If I put them all in one layer, they won’t fit.” And he says, “Just put them all in that box. Do I have to come back there myself?” 

menopauseexpress.com-straw

That was the last straw. I asked one of the other employees to help him, because I was about to tell him I would love to see him behind that counter all day, on his feet, doing my job. I’d pay good money to see him working just one of my shifts while I bitched at him.

Instead, I quit.

Pride

menopauseexpress.com - Pride

 

Pride is a quiet being that lurks inside of all of us. It sneaks out sometimes, in the form of judgment, and we don’t even notice it. It stings. It makes us feel ashamed; make us hide things. It can bring us down and make us cry. We can even hate ourselves because of our own pride and mixed emotions we don’t understand. Continue reading “Pride”

Loss

We lost one of our furry children this week. Sasha was a birthday present for Mr. Magick Man when she was just a puppy, 11+ years ago. She was his baby girl.

I would go into a memorial for Sasha, but really, that’s not what this post is about. This is a post of observation and learning.

Sasha passed away yesterday morning. I made a memorial post on my Facebook account rather than making a public blog post. People on my friends list knew her and I thought this was more appropriate. What I’ve observed is the general response to a person’s grief (whether the person who passed is a family member of the 2-legged or 4-legged variety). What horrifies me is that I may have been guilty (at one time or another) of some of the things that have offended me over the past 24 hours, myself. This inspired me to write, tonight, on how we might respond to a grieving friend when we see a post about his or her loss:

  • Expressing shock and sympathy
  • “OMG, I’m so sorry!! :: hugs ::
  • Emotional support
  • If you are in this person’s close circle of friends
    • CALL THE PERSON
    • He or she may have posted a memorial post, but a phone call is so much more personal. If someone is grieving, they need that personal contact, not a “comment”, or a text. They need your time if you’re in their closer circle of friends.

What not to do:

  • DO NOT SHARE THE PERSON’S POST
    • Your friend just posted a memorial post. You don’t know if this post is limited to a certain group of friends or if it is just on this person’s friends list. Most likely, it is not a public post. Why on earth would you share this post? Yes, I have seen this done to other grieving individuals.
  • Do not tell the person about your past experience with your dead cat/dog/brother/aunt/etc… This is not about you. It is possible to express sympathy (even express empathy) without relaying your story. The person grieving does not want to hear your story. If they weren’t grieving, they would care, but right now they just can’t.
    • This is the one that eats at me. This is the one I’m horrified I may have done in the past. If I’ve ever done this to anyone I am so sorry. In the past 24 hours people have done this to me and I know just how much you probably wanted to beat me over the head or tell me to just STFU.

Part of me reads what I just typed and says, “Hon, don’t post this. It’s just the grief and you’ll regret this post in a few days.” But really, that’s what this post is about – responding to a grieving friend. My reactions to the responses I received may be on the far end of the scale. One could say I’m overreacting and emotional right now; but that’s the point. When one is communicating with a grieving friend in that frame of mind, one needs to handle communication appropriately. The time for sharing stories is after the grieving is over. If you really feel the need to share any posts, you should at least ask the person first and explain why; and if the person declines then respect that decision.

I’m off my soapbox for the night. Peace and love. I’m going to go love my other dog and my kitties.