This morning I woke and found the cheery headline of, "Just Another Horrible Day for World Markets," on my online news service. I read (ok, glanced) the story relating how the European and Japanese markets were just responding to how terrible our own market performed last week. In essence, we suck. Its like despite all of the efforts of the government to stimulate our economy, we still insist that the sky is falling. I really don't think you can spin this, folks.
In many ways it reminds me of why I HATE doing long term therapy with clients. When I was working with substance abusing adolescents it was like watching a giant train wreck coming towards you knowing that there is nothing you can do to stop it. The substance abuse was due to the escape factor of the abusive family of origin and the abuse usually was a product of the parent's own substance abuse which was yet another escape from their childhood abuse. Do you see where this is going? Yup, nowhere fast. Its the chicken and the egg thing all over again. By the time I was finished doing this stint in my career I determined I would rather gouge my eyeballs out with melon ballers or pull my toenails off with dental hygienist equipment than do 50 minute therapy sessions for chronic cases.
Our economy is a chronic case on some level. There are many factors that could be causes or effects: the housing market, the weak dollar, our oil dependence, Bush's politically spun war on terror, the mortgage companies, whoever lowered the lending rate in the first place to entice the mortgage people to give the deals, outsourcing, NAFTA, Greenspan retiring, the Democrats, the Republicans, hell, we may as well throw in global warming, mice nuts, and obesity while we're at it. This isn't "Its a Wonderful Life" where the neighborhood all pitches in to save Bailey's Saving and Loan and someone gets wings. Nope, this is a train wreck and everyone is passing the buck for not figuring out who installed the brakes.
Monday, January 21, 2008
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Suddenly Apathetic Discovery/Seasonal Affective Disorder/Supposed to Act Different
Well, its almost 4:00 on a Sunday and I am still in my pajamas. I can officially say that this weekend has been a complete bust. I've spent most of my weekend in my pajamas...which incidentally are just a pair of flannel pj pants I "borrowed" from my husband, an old t-shirt, hospital socks I got when I had my appy 3 years ago, and an old sweatshirt of my Dad's from his shoulder surgery back in 1990. I look stylin'.
As I write this I can hear my Mom's voice in my head remarking, "How depressing! Yuck!"
Well, she's half right and half wrong. Its kind of nice being this lazy and comfortable when you have so much indecision about what to do with the day. I wanted to go see a movie, J didn't as he wanted a more active day. It should be noted that he is also still in his pjs. Not so much action going on here. I ended up eating leftover broccoli from last night's dinner for lunch. I plan on eating something out of the freezer for dinner.
On the other hand, it is rather depressing to still be in your bedclothes and still not have a great idea of options of what to do by the time the day is almost over. I could have gone to the bookstore. Didn't. Could have gone window shopping. Didn't. Could have done yoga. Didn't. It reminds me of when I was little and would want to play something like school or restaurant, but the thought of putting the toys away would just deter me from getting them out in the first place. Its the same faulty thinking going on decades later.
Part of my reluctance to do anything is the weather. God, I hate this time of year. If I could just zap January through March I would be a much happier person. I know this time of year sucks and I do everything I can to prevent the suckage. I plant stinky Narcissus plants just to bring in a little green and life into the house. I clean like a mad woman and take multi vitamins with B complexes faithfully. Last year I spent exorbitant amounts of money going to the ritzy grocery store in town where a loaf of bread is the same price as imported cheese or your first born just to listen to the classical music, browse exotic mustards, and buy flowers weekly. The flowers died and made me sad so I had to replace them only to have the cycle of life let me down again. Like I said, God, I hate this time of year.
Last week I watched a woman from Utah ask a very crazy metaphysical gynecological "expert" on Oprah ask about Seasonal Affective Disorder. J and I have been "browsing" the light therapy boxes at Costco for a few months now. I've actually lusted after one for years, but couldn't afford to rationalizing spending $150 on a box of blue lights. Currently he's doing research in medical journals on their effectiveness. To be honest, that doctor on Oprah was a loon and I either blocked out what she said about SAD or just plain dismissed it. Oprah lost a few street cred points on my list after putting that lady on her show.
Besides apathy, they also say that irritability is a major sign of SAD. Perhaps my reaction to Oprah's show just gives more reason why I should get out of these damn pjs and get over to Costco.
Could. Probably won't.
As I write this I can hear my Mom's voice in my head remarking, "How depressing! Yuck!"
Well, she's half right and half wrong. Its kind of nice being this lazy and comfortable when you have so much indecision about what to do with the day. I wanted to go see a movie, J didn't as he wanted a more active day. It should be noted that he is also still in his pjs. Not so much action going on here. I ended up eating leftover broccoli from last night's dinner for lunch. I plan on eating something out of the freezer for dinner.
On the other hand, it is rather depressing to still be in your bedclothes and still not have a great idea of options of what to do by the time the day is almost over. I could have gone to the bookstore. Didn't. Could have gone window shopping. Didn't. Could have done yoga. Didn't. It reminds me of when I was little and would want to play something like school or restaurant, but the thought of putting the toys away would just deter me from getting them out in the first place. Its the same faulty thinking going on decades later.
Part of my reluctance to do anything is the weather. God, I hate this time of year. If I could just zap January through March I would be a much happier person. I know this time of year sucks and I do everything I can to prevent the suckage. I plant stinky Narcissus plants just to bring in a little green and life into the house. I clean like a mad woman and take multi vitamins with B complexes faithfully. Last year I spent exorbitant amounts of money going to the ritzy grocery store in town where a loaf of bread is the same price as imported cheese or your first born just to listen to the classical music, browse exotic mustards, and buy flowers weekly. The flowers died and made me sad so I had to replace them only to have the cycle of life let me down again. Like I said, God, I hate this time of year.
Last week I watched a woman from Utah ask a very crazy metaphysical gynecological "expert" on Oprah ask about Seasonal Affective Disorder. J and I have been "browsing" the light therapy boxes at Costco for a few months now. I've actually lusted after one for years, but couldn't afford to rationalizing spending $150 on a box of blue lights. Currently he's doing research in medical journals on their effectiveness. To be honest, that doctor on Oprah was a loon and I either blocked out what she said about SAD or just plain dismissed it. Oprah lost a few street cred points on my list after putting that lady on her show.
Besides apathy, they also say that irritability is a major sign of SAD. Perhaps my reaction to Oprah's show just gives more reason why I should get out of these damn pjs and get over to Costco.
Could. Probably won't.
Friday, January 18, 2008
Opportunty for Chaos
I am a terrible poker player. First, I can't remember what beats what and second, I wear every single emotion on my face. I apologize for not writing. I just have so much in limbo and potential variations out there of how my life could go, I'm either afraid I'm going to jinx things or I might reveal my cards too soon.
With Kenya on hold, the variations of the future seem endless. The January crowd was canceled, but they are optimistic that they could be going in February. Given the fact that I just read they had another bloody protest complete with bows/arrows/machetes, well, I'm not so optimistic. Besides, how "safe" does it need to be for us to feel truly safe going? These are all answers no one has yet.
In the meantime, my career is exploding with potential opportunities that may or may not make me happy. However, the money is always tempting as it yields stability. My husband truly wants me to be happy, but the stability factor may win given my values. But with the Kenya thing on hold, how fair is it for me to jump on these opportunities? Can you feel the anguish?!? I can. I feel it every night.
As a matter of fact, I've been having awful nightmares lately. Violent nightmares. The kind where I wake up because I'm trying to push my husband out of the bed or hit him. (Not kidding on this...I've done this 3 nights in a row.) Poor guy is taking his life into his own hands every night he lays down next to me and yet he still doesn't want me in the guest bedroom.
All of my nightmares involve puppies. Someone is trying to run over the puppies, puppies are dying, puppies, puppies, puppies. Enough with the puppies already! Last night I dreamt about the old family ranch house. This isn't a new theme. Typically I have dreams that it is haunted (and it was in reality, but these are really violent scary ghosts not the nice floating lady that frequented the halls and bedrooms). Last night the house was being turned into a hotel and they just ruined the whole thing. What's odd is that we haven't had the ranch house in the family since the late 1980's or so. WTF?
Sometimes life is so crazy we can't even keep our own thoughts straight let alone organize them into a coherent blog entry.
With Kenya on hold, the variations of the future seem endless. The January crowd was canceled, but they are optimistic that they could be going in February. Given the fact that I just read they had another bloody protest complete with bows/arrows/machetes, well, I'm not so optimistic. Besides, how "safe" does it need to be for us to feel truly safe going? These are all answers no one has yet.
In the meantime, my career is exploding with potential opportunities that may or may not make me happy. However, the money is always tempting as it yields stability. My husband truly wants me to be happy, but the stability factor may win given my values. But with the Kenya thing on hold, how fair is it for me to jump on these opportunities? Can you feel the anguish?!? I can. I feel it every night.
As a matter of fact, I've been having awful nightmares lately. Violent nightmares. The kind where I wake up because I'm trying to push my husband out of the bed or hit him. (Not kidding on this...I've done this 3 nights in a row.) Poor guy is taking his life into his own hands every night he lays down next to me and yet he still doesn't want me in the guest bedroom.
All of my nightmares involve puppies. Someone is trying to run over the puppies, puppies are dying, puppies, puppies, puppies. Enough with the puppies already! Last night I dreamt about the old family ranch house. This isn't a new theme. Typically I have dreams that it is haunted (and it was in reality, but these are really violent scary ghosts not the nice floating lady that frequented the halls and bedrooms). Last night the house was being turned into a hotel and they just ruined the whole thing. What's odd is that we haven't had the ranch house in the family since the late 1980's or so. WTF?
Sometimes life is so crazy we can't even keep our own thoughts straight let alone organize them into a coherent blog entry.
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
Recapitulating Worries...How Productive!!!
A couple of days ago I pulled out my old journal from a few years ago. My husband asked if he should be concerned as I sat in the bathtub recapitulating the stories and obsessive thoughts that plagued my life like the ghost of Christmas past. I told him not to worry; its really because I'm out of literature and I'm in desperate need of suggestions from my readers!!!
I do tend to do this whole reading of my journals about every two years or so. It helps me take stock of my life, where I was, where I'm going, where I am now. You know, that kind of thing. However, I really should know better by now NOT to do this when I'm in the depths of winter's bleak despair of seasonal affective. Some day I will learn this lesson, but it obviously isn't going to happen in 2008.
What struck me the most is how much energy and brainpower I dedicated to: how do I get this guy to commit? I was freaking out about my life timeline and how to get the show on the road. I was also a humble traditionalist with the nursery rhyme in my head of: first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes the baby in the baby carriage. I wouldn't have it any other way as my Rain man impression would just come out of nowhere and someone would find me rocking in the corner repeating over and over that you must get your underwear from Walmart. I figured in 2005 I had the love part, now damn it, where was that ring? Well, it came and I calmed down considerably.
I found that a lot of my entries were dedicated to the "what if" factor. These are the things that flow over and over in your brain at bedtime. For Example: "What if I'm not married before I'm 32? J wants to have a year engagement. That would mean we have to step things up. Plus, we both want to be married for a while before jumping into the kids thing, but what about my risks during pregnancy? Oh my God, what if we have a NICU baby? What if this kid has some chromosomal disorder or heart problem? What if we have to make a decision about end of life? I'm certain we're an ethics consult waiting to happen. Well, if we're going to have a chromosomal issue, I'd rather have a Down Syndrome kiddo vs. a CP kiddo. Now I know we're a bit skewed because we've both seen a lot of pediatric badness, so really not every kid winds up with spina bifida, but the longer we wait, the more my chances increase....And what about our superstitions of names? All of those strange names are almost predestined for badness. You never see a good old fashioned Jane in the NICU. What names would I rule out?"
Yes, folks, this is what I obsess about.
I found that there were a couple of entries that specifically stated I wanted to start having kids at the age of 32 and be done by 35. Holy cow, well, I already blew that time line as my birthday is in early September...you do the math. J and I have kind of let our lives and the challenges determine when our pregnancies should be targeted on the calendar. For instance, I definitely do not want to be pregnant in Kenya and on anti-malaria drugs. They really need to be out of your system for 3 months before trying. Plus, then the whole fellowship thing. How do you plan moving around trimesters? Good hell, life is complicated!
I have a few girlfriends who are in the various stages of trying for kiddos right now. I know that if you are trying to conceive it would be wise not to have any substances in your system. This means no cold medicine, as few as possible prescriptions, etc.. I didn't really appreciate this until I fell ill two days ago. No Nyquil? Are you kidding me? Drowning in snot for a little one. I suppose it is a good small lesson of the types of sacrifices you face for the rest of your life.
I don't even know how I'll function without my antidepressants and the truth is, I've postponed/avoided scheduling my annual with a new OB for almost 2 years now because I'm worried what they will say about this. If my kiddo has some unknown complication because I was on antidepressants, how will I feel? I suppose it would be better than me not making it through the pregnancy because I was so depressed. All of this scares the living crap out of me.
I do tend to do this whole reading of my journals about every two years or so. It helps me take stock of my life, where I was, where I'm going, where I am now. You know, that kind of thing. However, I really should know better by now NOT to do this when I'm in the depths of winter's bleak despair of seasonal affective. Some day I will learn this lesson, but it obviously isn't going to happen in 2008.
What struck me the most is how much energy and brainpower I dedicated to: how do I get this guy to commit? I was freaking out about my life timeline and how to get the show on the road. I was also a humble traditionalist with the nursery rhyme in my head of: first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes the baby in the baby carriage. I wouldn't have it any other way as my Rain man impression would just come out of nowhere and someone would find me rocking in the corner repeating over and over that you must get your underwear from Walmart. I figured in 2005 I had the love part, now damn it, where was that ring? Well, it came and I calmed down considerably.
I found that a lot of my entries were dedicated to the "what if" factor. These are the things that flow over and over in your brain at bedtime. For Example: "What if I'm not married before I'm 32? J wants to have a year engagement. That would mean we have to step things up. Plus, we both want to be married for a while before jumping into the kids thing, but what about my risks during pregnancy? Oh my God, what if we have a NICU baby? What if this kid has some chromosomal disorder or heart problem? What if we have to make a decision about end of life? I'm certain we're an ethics consult waiting to happen. Well, if we're going to have a chromosomal issue, I'd rather have a Down Syndrome kiddo vs. a CP kiddo. Now I know we're a bit skewed because we've both seen a lot of pediatric badness, so really not every kid winds up with spina bifida, but the longer we wait, the more my chances increase....And what about our superstitions of names? All of those strange names are almost predestined for badness. You never see a good old fashioned Jane in the NICU. What names would I rule out?"
Yes, folks, this is what I obsess about.
I found that there were a couple of entries that specifically stated I wanted to start having kids at the age of 32 and be done by 35. Holy cow, well, I already blew that time line as my birthday is in early September...you do the math. J and I have kind of let our lives and the challenges determine when our pregnancies should be targeted on the calendar. For instance, I definitely do not want to be pregnant in Kenya and on anti-malaria drugs. They really need to be out of your system for 3 months before trying. Plus, then the whole fellowship thing. How do you plan moving around trimesters? Good hell, life is complicated!
I have a few girlfriends who are in the various stages of trying for kiddos right now. I know that if you are trying to conceive it would be wise not to have any substances in your system. This means no cold medicine, as few as possible prescriptions, etc.. I didn't really appreciate this until I fell ill two days ago. No Nyquil? Are you kidding me? Drowning in snot for a little one. I suppose it is a good small lesson of the types of sacrifices you face for the rest of your life.
I don't even know how I'll function without my antidepressants and the truth is, I've postponed/avoided scheduling my annual with a new OB for almost 2 years now because I'm worried what they will say about this. If my kiddo has some unknown complication because I was on antidepressants, how will I feel? I suppose it would be better than me not making it through the pregnancy because I was so depressed. All of this scares the living crap out of me.
Thursday, January 3, 2008
Passion, What?
Yesterday we heard that the current medical residents in Kenya were evacuated due to the violence and that our departure is on hold for the moment. Apparently this happened the last time elections were held, but the rioting was short lived. I suppose this is a good thing as we have not bought our plane tickets yet and J pointed out that the prices should be tumbling downward like a drunk snowboarder on an avalanche.
In the meantime on the other side of the world, the population has quadrupled in Iowa. Places like Winterset are now getting their 15 minutes of fame as candidates pull all nighters and eat grandma's pot roast to show how down home they are...for about 10 minutes until they have to get back on the road again. I have a very old and dear friend of mine who is the regional deputy for one of the candidates campaign. I can't imagine what his life has been like in the past few days. Every time I see a news report I just keep looking for my friend in the background.
My guilty dark side pleasure is actually watching and participating in politics. I was a poli sci major. This only occurred by default as I was sucking in my chemistry classes and had a really bad love triangle I was avoiding at the time. I came back from a political internship in D.C. and marched up to the registrars office to declare whatever I had the most credits in as my major. It worked out for the best as I couldn't believe I got college credit for staying up late making lawn signs, getting drunk at political fund raisers, and making speeches on behalf of my candidates at local senior centers. It was a total blast. The thing about poli sci is that the pretentious adrenaline is contagious. I am usually rather aloof when it comes to day to day politics, but when its presidential election time I'm wishing I lived in Estherville, Iowa or even Nashua, New Hampshire. It seems that in those small places, the power of the people and potential of change is possible. THAT is what gets me every time.
The thing that I hate about politics is that it seems a bit fake in our country. When our election results were dubious in 2000 no one took to the streets to riot like they have in Kenya. Instead we sat glued to the television watching the spin doctors work their magic and the news stations um'd and ah'd backing their way out of being preemptive fortune tellers. Granted, we didn't have genocide allegations like Kenya. But truly, where is our passion and our spirit?
Perhaps I'm romanticising the whole thing too much. My friend, weary from the campaign trail, once told me that Iowa voters were a bit entitled and wouldn't pledge their caucus power unless they saw the candidate IN PERSON AT LEAST TWICE. I come from States where the candidates don't even bother showing up because it is not worth their time and effort because its a sure thing for the other party. That is just sad. My friend is right though. On CBS news last night I watched a reporter asked how many times the candidates had been through his town. He had no problems mentioning that Obama had shown up the most, Edwards and Clinton were tied for second. Nothing was said about the candidates message when they were there.
I mourn the loss of passion that our country displays for their democracy. Our government insights wars based on this principle but yet no one will stand on our own soil and protect it. We treat it like its a intangible ideal or a machine that runs by itself. We are on uncharted ground with a woman and an African American are running and it is exciting.
Gone are the days when people will vote based on the message of the candidate like when Lincoln stood on the platform of his train in downtown Indianapolis (there is a plaque to memorialize this.) Instead we now vote on gender, race, how many children, and what seems to be most important in our "separation" of church and state: religion. In Iowa today, the Democrats have a battle of Gender vs. Race and the Republicans have a battle of Evangelical vs. Mormon.
Charles Krauthammer wrote: Huckabee is running a very effective ad in Iowa about religion. “Faith doesn’t just influence me,” he says on camera, “it really defines me.” The ad then hails him as a “Christian leader.”
This alone makes me want to vomit just in case you were wondering.
In the meantime on the other side of the world, the population has quadrupled in Iowa. Places like Winterset are now getting their 15 minutes of fame as candidates pull all nighters and eat grandma's pot roast to show how down home they are...for about 10 minutes until they have to get back on the road again. I have a very old and dear friend of mine who is the regional deputy for one of the candidates campaign. I can't imagine what his life has been like in the past few days. Every time I see a news report I just keep looking for my friend in the background.
My guilty dark side pleasure is actually watching and participating in politics. I was a poli sci major. This only occurred by default as I was sucking in my chemistry classes and had a really bad love triangle I was avoiding at the time. I came back from a political internship in D.C. and marched up to the registrars office to declare whatever I had the most credits in as my major. It worked out for the best as I couldn't believe I got college credit for staying up late making lawn signs, getting drunk at political fund raisers, and making speeches on behalf of my candidates at local senior centers. It was a total blast. The thing about poli sci is that the pretentious adrenaline is contagious. I am usually rather aloof when it comes to day to day politics, but when its presidential election time I'm wishing I lived in Estherville, Iowa or even Nashua, New Hampshire. It seems that in those small places, the power of the people and potential of change is possible. THAT is what gets me every time.
The thing that I hate about politics is that it seems a bit fake in our country. When our election results were dubious in 2000 no one took to the streets to riot like they have in Kenya. Instead we sat glued to the television watching the spin doctors work their magic and the news stations um'd and ah'd backing their way out of being preemptive fortune tellers. Granted, we didn't have genocide allegations like Kenya. But truly, where is our passion and our spirit?
Perhaps I'm romanticising the whole thing too much. My friend, weary from the campaign trail, once told me that Iowa voters were a bit entitled and wouldn't pledge their caucus power unless they saw the candidate IN PERSON AT LEAST TWICE. I come from States where the candidates don't even bother showing up because it is not worth their time and effort because its a sure thing for the other party. That is just sad. My friend is right though. On CBS news last night I watched a reporter asked how many times the candidates had been through his town. He had no problems mentioning that Obama had shown up the most, Edwards and Clinton were tied for second. Nothing was said about the candidates message when they were there.
I mourn the loss of passion that our country displays for their democracy. Our government insights wars based on this principle but yet no one will stand on our own soil and protect it. We treat it like its a intangible ideal or a machine that runs by itself. We are on uncharted ground with a woman and an African American are running and it is exciting.
Gone are the days when people will vote based on the message of the candidate like when Lincoln stood on the platform of his train in downtown Indianapolis (there is a plaque to memorialize this.) Instead we now vote on gender, race, how many children, and what seems to be most important in our "separation" of church and state: religion. In Iowa today, the Democrats have a battle of Gender vs. Race and the Republicans have a battle of Evangelical vs. Mormon.
Charles Krauthammer wrote: Huckabee is running a very effective ad in Iowa about religion. “Faith doesn’t just influence me,” he says on camera, “it really defines me.” The ad then hails him as a “Christian leader.”
This alone makes me want to vomit just in case you were wondering.
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