Self Esteem » Sassifiable

power

Emotional Intelligence, Relationships, Self Esteem 1 Response »

Mar 232013

Why do we minimize violence when it happens between two people in a relationship? Because we don’t want to get involved? Because it’s “under the covers” and “under the radar” when it really should be under the fucking microscope?

Violence against a family member should be no different than violence happening out in the middle of town in front of everyone… except for the fact that it’s more heinous due to it’s insidious secrecy.

Batterers know exactly what they’re doing, thriving on equal parts fear and charm. Making you feel on top of the world one minute and a piece of shit the next. A roller coaster, that in the beginning makes huge leaps between “getting flowers” and “getting backhanded”. Slowly and surely decreasing a person’s ideas of what is acceptable behavior… until the abused person is simply grateful for a day without violence (emotional or physical).

This is the slow, calculated, debilitating effect of brainwashing a person into learned helplessness. Tension building (walking on eggshells) lasts longer and longer, the explosions come faster and faster, and the honeymoon phase becomes relatively non-existent. Denial is ever present… because if I admit I’m in an abusive relationship then I have to fucking DO something about it and that means I made a POOR CHOICE in a partner.

Personal accountability sucks but it’s the only way to move from victim… to survivor.

Batterers have a very low rate of success in changing their behavior… it’s about POWER DIFFERENTIALS. If I believe you to be weaker/less than/inferior than me? Well it’s very unlikely that that will change. Read more: http://www.stopvaw.org/effectiveness_of_batterers_intervention_programs

If you saw a person abusing their partner/spouse/child in public… tearing them down or calling them names or backhanding them or grabbing them by the neck or stabbing them with an object… you’d be shocked and horrified yes? You might intervene or call the police. We know that children who are abused are loyal to their abusive parents and “dont’ want to leave”. (at least that was my experience as an investigator of such matters).

Very similar feelings of misplaced loyalty stem from abused spouses or abused parents/boyfriends/girlfriends et cetera. Sometimes we don’t know… that we don’t know… that things won’t change… or how very “wrong” the situation has become.

We see a black eye and look the other way. Notice a severe difference in a friend’s behavior and say nothing. It’s not our business. Not our concern. Not our problem. They’re grown. They can handle their own business. We don’t want to interfere.

Maybe that idea needs to change. Maybe you should be that one person who isn’t afraid to say what needs to be said. Just maybe you should be a positive rabble-rouser and stand up for people… even if they get mad at ya.

(I dub this post “Lessons from a Domestic Violence counselor… and survivor of an abusive relationship” or ~~Physician~~ Counselor heal thyself.)

~ a.G.~

*note that there are no gender specifications here. there is just as much abuse occurring across both sexes. it’s about power.

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think think think

Emotional Intelligence, Self Esteem 1 Response »

Mar 212013

You see me ~~rollin’~~ writin’. You ~~hatin~~ readin’… over and over and over yet again about the root cause of our problems is the way we think. For those of you who do not know, I spent a decade in the “helping” profession.

Therapist of the mental health kind as a licensed social worker. Multiple years working with women’s issues, domestic violence outpatient therapy as well as work in shelters, victim’s advocate, AoD addiction treatment, investigator for children’s services… and more. So yeah… me and the DSM were buds. Bringing me to my therapy of choice… Cognitive Behavioralist with a penchant for Rational Emotive Behavioral Therapy.

Whosa whatsits? Right. Read the following two paragraphs and then we’ll get down to it. (from http://psychology.about.com/od/typesofpsychotherapy/a/rational-emotive-behavior-therapy.htm)

Cognitive-behavioral therapy is based on the idea that our thoughts cause our feelings and behaviors, not external things, like people, situations, and events. The benefit of this fact is that we can change the way we think to feel / act better even if the situation does not change.

REBT, created by Albert Ellis, focuses on helping clients change irrational beliefs. As he treated patients, he became increasingly dissatisfied with the results offered by traditional psychoanalytic therapy. He noted that while his patients were able to become aware of their underlying problems, their behavior did not actually change.

Ellis suggested that people mistakenly blame external events for unhappiness. He argued, however, that it is our interpretation of these events that truly lies at the heart of our psychological distress.

To explain this process, Ellis developed what he referred to as the ABC Model:

A Activating Event: Something happens in the environment around you.
B Beliefs: You hold a belief about the event or situation.
C Consequence: You have an emotional response to your belief.

Holy crap. Yes I made you read. Quit sniveling about it. So how do we change what happens to us? How do we become an active participant in our lives? How do we change the way we think and believe and thereby change our behaviors and attitudes?

1. Identifying the underlying irrational thought patterns and beliefs.
write it down. write it down. write it down. Write out what you believe to be true. About anything you like.
“People hate me”
“I’m worthless”
“Everyone is out to get me”
“No one really cares”
“It’s everyone else… not me”

2. Challenging the irrational beliefs.
This is the hard part. As a therapist I had to confront the ever loving lalaloopsie out of irrational beliefs. My mantra was “What evidence do you have to support that thought” or “Why is this true? Give details please” If you have enough awareness to do this for yourself… then do so. (I’ve got journals with journals that have diaries about their journals) If not? Seek out a reliable source. Someone that you know will tell you the truth.

3. Gaining Insight and Recognizing Irrational Thought Patterns.
Changing those irrational thoughts you listed by replacing them with reality based statements. (people would think I was crazy because I would stop talking and change my sentences all the time)

I felt as a counselor, a woman in recovery herself, and someone seeking awareness… that it wasn’t okay for me to tell someone else what to do without doing it my damn self. To go from “Everyone is out to get me” to “I am responsible for my behavior and responses. No one would spend that much time thinking about me. I’m simply not that important.”

Challenge… irrational beliefs. Carry the healthy responses on notecards everywhere you go. It took a long time for those irrational thoughts to take root… it’s gonna take work to get rid of them. It’s work… but it’s worth it. It can be the best thing you ever do for yourself.

~ a.G.~

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curvy

Mommyness, Relationships, Self Esteem, Sensuality 2 Responses »

Oct 042012

I have this figure. size 12 (certain times of the month 14. meh. bloating.)

I love having curves in all the right places. I used to always wish I wasn’t buxom, hated having a smaller waist and bigger hips. I just wanted to be straight up and down like the Jordache Jeans models… this was back in the day where everyone wanted to look like Kate Moss and being waif like was considered hot. My twenties were not good years for self esteem.

As I went through my thirties I began to stop comparing myself to others. Began really paying attention to how my body moved when I walked, what my round rump looked like in a pair of well fitting jeans. I taught myself to walk in heels and appreciate what it FELT like to be feminine. Why did I have to learn all those things at the tender age of thirty? (insert eye roll here)

Sensuality was stolen from me at an early age. Strict catholicism can do that to a young girl. Make up was bad. Cleavage was a sin. Batting eyelashes flirtatiously would get you years in purgatory. And premarital sex? Well that was just asking to be sent straight to Hell… with or without a hand basket.

When I “became a woman” (I hated that phrase… they should’ve said when you become crazy once a month from hormones and feel like tiny elves are in your uterus slicing you with razor blades) I literally thought I was bleeding to death. I was afraid, ashamed, and embarrassed. Mom never talked about those things. I never knew what a “period” was or why we had them… never knew about sex or good touch or that it was okay to kiss a boy but you had to stop him at second base. Birth control was for Protestant sluts. And I never ever DARED ask why when I had a crush on a boy I had this pleasant sensation between my legs when he looked at me a certain way. Why the tiny nodules underneath my shirt got firm and why my bikini underwear would get a little moist.

I didn’t DARE ask those things. It was all part of the mystery of sin.

It wasn’t until college that I even knew what a clitoris was… so yeah a good portion of my freshman year was spent… well you know how it is when you discover masturbating for the first time.

I’ve spent my adult life claiming my feminine. Learning to revel in the sultry and the sweet deliciousness of the curvy girl that I’ve always been. There was a day when that was the ideal of beauty, as evidenced by the gorgeous Marilyn below.

A relationship with Prince Charmingless didn’t help much either. Curvy meant disgusting. My looks were used as a weapon. Clothes cut with box cutters because they were size 12 or 10 and not size 4 or 6. Mocked for having size 36 DD’s. Walking down the stairs and being told to go back up and change because he wouldn’t be seen with me in public… that way.

You see… I chose to marry someone who felt about me the way I was TAUGHT to feel about me. Not consciously of course… but all that unresolved gunk in the insidious subconscious made that choice. I’m no victim… I chose it. But then somehow, someway, somewhere I made a different choice. I began to reclaim who I was. I had to learn ALL OVER AGAIN. Call it a second adolescence. I call it “With a little help from my friends.” (my best friend +Jscott Mays … he had a lot do with this process. love you. thank you.)

It’s taken me until 40 to internalize a chunk of this… and I’m sure I have a long way to go. As a result of me learning to like me, inside AND out, I have met someone (the one) who loves all of me. Again… I chose someone who feels about me the way I feel about me. +Nick Beenham has shown me love and affection and attention and unconditional positive regard that I never knew possible. Sometimes those memorex memories come flooding back and I expect him to be critical like Charmingless was. He never has. Not once. He loves me… loves the way I look… and loves me for the woman I am. I feel the same about him… well exchange the word woman for man obviously. Sheesh.

Having four daughters makes me realize how important it is that I accept myself… so that I can help them do the same. My oldest daughter is built just like me… at 9 she already needs a bra. I tell her she is gorgeous and perfect and beautiful… because she is. My other daughters are of slighter build but when they start developing curves… you better believe they’ll get the same message. (They all eat healthfully btw… plenty of fruits and veggies along with whole grains. My oldest daughter would rather eat Hummus than candy. Go figure.)

Curves are beautiful. Screw what the magazines say. If you take a cross section of the population and show them a picture of Marilyn versus Twiggy… curves will win every time. I will do everything in my power to assure that they know what it is to be feminine… whatever that entails. With love and appropriateness and more than a little bit of sass.

Just like I had to RE-PARENT myself so that I can PARENT them. Thin or curvy or somewhere in between… I’ll do my very best to teach those beautiful girls that they ARE… beautiful.

Girls rule. Always… in all ways.

Oh yeah… I need this bathing suit. Like badly.

~ a.G.~

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better than

Relationships, Self Esteem No Responses »

Sep 302012

Do you create comfort or angst in those around you?

As a person seeking actualization (to become your potential), it is of utmost importance to begin acting with compassion. This doesn’t mean pulling a Mother Theresa and give your life to feeding the poor. It could mean giving a smile where none was warranted, showing kindness when your nature says “be snarky”, holding a hand when fear runs rampant… being the kind of person YOU would want to be around.

It’s difficult. Especially for smart folks or successful people or those who are just plain PISSED OFF. Other people feeling intimidated is an ego aphrodisiac. Most of us wish to be revered or acknowledged for our success, somehow it gives the illusion of superiority and self esteem also known as hero worship. Pissed off people just like to create angst because they can, if I’m not happy then you can be damned sure I don’t want you to be… happy.

I’ve seen it offline and ON… typed and in webcam hangout land… just a smattering of arrogance and I’m the shizznit. That’s cool and all if you have success… but a LARGE part of success in life has nothing to do with being idolized.

There is much to be said for being gracious; humility is not believing you are any better or worse than the next bloke, reveling in kindness that is both given AND received. And if you’re just pissed off with the world? Be a grown up and resolve your own crap. You can piss all over your own world but don’t rain on anyone else’s parade.

We’re only as important as the worth of our relationships with others. Unselfish is the name of the non-game. Self important is so last week.

The only time we are to ever look down on another is to help someone back up.

~ a.G.~

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matter

Emotional Intelligence, Relationships, Self Esteem No Responses »

Sep 272012

Ask at least one person in your life today how they REALLY think of themselves. Someone that’ll be truthful of course… and yes it’s okay if that person is YOU.

Interestingly, in my years of experience making people do just this (yeah it was my JOB to make people face uncomfortable shit), the results were usually slanted towards the negative.

not:
good enough
smart enough
pretty enough
nice enough
firm enough

I say enough… is enough.

I’ve seen that most folks view the world through DIM colored glasses. Smeared with toxicity and shame handed down through rotten apples from dying family trees. Taught through extreme experiential that they are simply… not enough.

To be fair, our parental units were taught the same thing. Parenting for dummies utilizes shame as it’s primary ruler, gobsmacking our knuckles for the slightest show of imperfection. “We musn’t let the world know we’re crazy in ANY way or independent thinkers… my gawd what would the neighbors think?”

Hell even now my mom won’t tell her buddies from the senior center that she’s a liberal… because they’re all conservatives and WE CAN’T HAVE PEOPLE KNOWING WE’RE DIFFERENT.

facepalm

How do you challenge that? By telling saying one “secret” out loud every day. Now I’m not saying that you need to tell another person about your ball gag while wearing baby doll pajamas and pretending you’re a dog fetish. Although that would be totally cool. Sorta. More of allowing a tidbit of vulnerability to seep out of that iron clad exterior. If you’re in an uncomfortable position just say out loud “Whew this feels a bit quirky or strange.” If you’re fearful say out loud… “This is a bit scary”.

Even if you just type it as a post on the internets… it’s getting it OUTSIDE of your noggin. Then maybe, just maybe, you’ll see that the whole world isn’t going to condemn you for being human. That you’ll get compassion and empathy and a round of “Me too’s” or “I’ve felt that way before’s”.

I’ve written practically every heinous thing I’ve felt or experienced. Let skeletons out to dance jigs while I clap along just for fun. There is great healing in that. Catharsis bringing the realization that instead of denigration for self disclosure… conversely there is appreciation and a feeling of camaraderie.

Favorite quote ever:

“I myself am made entirely of flaws,
stitched together with good intentions.”
― Augusten Burroughs

And that’s exactly as I was meant to be… perfectly imperfect matter coalesced into… ME. How awesome is that?

~ a.G.~

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pardon the interruption

Emotional Intelligence, Expression, Self Esteem No Responses »

Sep 202012

Pardon the Interruption.

So. I just read an article by +Justine Musk who always always all ways… inspires me. (you should check her out btw) how a woman can write to change the world

She repeatedly speaks of the good girl box:

Good girls don’t put themselves out there, throw down the conversational gauntlet, express intense and passionate opinions (at least not without apologizing profusely). After all, we might come off as too loud, too obnoxious. We might offend people. Take up too much space. Attract too much attention.

(A good girl is never too much of anything. She’s perfect. She’s always just right.)

Every single time I read something like this I get a twinge of anger. Angry at what society thinks is good equaling obedient. The characteristics taught to our daughters about what a “lady” looks like… be demure, be overly humble, don’t interrupt, behave, think inside the box, don’t be mouthy or opinionated, play with girl toys, acquiesce to higher authority lest you be thought of as a bitch (it could go on and on), and never ever EVER dare interrupt someone.

Yes. Even in this day and age you must DARE not interrupt anyone, especially a man. My husband and I have had issues with this in the past with interesting results. I interrupt. Always have. I have a flash and it just comes out. I try not to be rude. I really do. I don’t intend it to be disrespectful but dammit all there are just SOME things I know about. There are some situations where I am a damn expert. I work on waiting. I really do. I fail miserably most times.

But to be fair… most of my life I’ve had to yell to be heard, push to be included, and speak loudly to get a fair shake. I was passed over three times for a promotion because I worked with all men who were supposed “experts” in the field. Until I went into the bosses office armed with sass and a laundry list of “why I should get the job” and some serious desk pounding… well that got me the interview AND the job I wanted/deserved.

It’s been explained by supposed experts that women and men communicate differently due to organic innate differences. I’m not so sure if that’s accurate.

Is it because women are socialized to “Shut up and make me a sammich”? Yes that’s still a running joke. Not really that funny. Check your stream I’m sure you’ll see a meme about it somewhere. Have we been vilified for so long to “shut it” that as women seeking actualization we jump in because we feel as if we’ll lose our chance to speak? Is it more of a lack of nurture versus natural inclination to communicate differently?

I don’t have the time or the resources to gather such empirical data. But I can speak from 40 years of experience as a woman in a man’s world; if I’d not fought to speak by interrupting and being (gawd forbid) opinionated, I’d have been passed over more often than not.

Some men say they LIKE a strong, opinionated woman. I’m not so sure. Some of those men like it when you’re strong and opinionated with everyone ELSE… except them. Just like the guy who loves that you’re sexy and sensual but only with them… not just because you ARE that way. Be who you are but only do it when, where, and how I say.

Right.

This concludes the interruption. Please enjoy your stream of internets consciousness already in progress…

~ a.G.~

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geek

Self Esteem 1 Response »

Apr 232012

I remember those painful awkward years. Where I wished I was anything… but me. Wished I didn’t adore science fiction or read the dictionary (for fun). Wished that I didn’t have coke bottle glasses or that I would have rather spent my Saturday night writing instead of anything else. More than anything else I wished that, just for ONE moment, that I fit in. Just. Once.

So I tried. Got rid of the glasses and hid my beloved Tolkien and Piers Anthony. Stashed my D and D dice under my bed, hid my moleskin and my fancy quill topped pen that I loved so much. Teased my hair high (it was the 80′s shushit) and wore ripped jeans, (I also began my illustrious drinking career here but we won’t delve into that story today) and really tight concert t-shirts. Stopped being the girl whose books were knocked down the hall and started being the one … who wasn’t all the way me.

It was fail.

Why did I go into this long example with scary 80′s hair? Because in many ways we still do this. Even as grown folks. As self actualized and brave as I think I wanna be… there are moments when it would be easier to be NOT me. When ridiculed or chastised or when those old tapes start playing from long ago whispering “not good enough”. It’s not live usually it’s memorex.

Posing. Posturing. Acting “as if”. The cool quotient or “saving face”; not showing your ass because … well I’m not quite sure why.

Fear of ridicule or vulnerability I suppose. Fear of someone telling us we’re not doing it right or how to do it better. Like we’re supposed to know how to do everything.

As a (relatively) grown person, as well as being in recovery from alcoholism, I’ve been able to embrace that side of me a bit more. Which is why much of what I write has to do with vulnerability and courage and standing up to that nagging voice that screams “I’m not enough.” So I loudly (sometimes too much so but whatever) proclaim my perceived flaws, my skeletal figures hiding in closets, and my inner geek-ish-ness. I rather like that about myself and I doubly cherish that ability in others. The things I used to despise about myself are the things I NOW like the most. Funny that.

I wonder what life would look like if we lived it without pretense. To have the ability to openly say, HEY WORLD I’m not perfect nor do I want to be. Then again… maybe life wouldn’t be as interesting. There IS beauty in the struggle and silver linings can bring shine to any life… if we allow it.

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one and done.

Emotional Intelligence, Self Esteem No Responses »

Apr 202012

Why is it so much easier to believe the negative?

Even the most self efficated (not a word. should be.) people with extremely high self esteems will doubt. It’s part of our nature, our character; this questioning. The triad of Ego, Super Ego, and their evil sister Id; say this is so. Let’s face it… even the most self actualized of us have pain responses. When someone says something cruel or hurtful, we spring back a bit. (Those of you calm as a cucumber and unaffected-I hate you. I don’t really. I want to be more like you. So there.) Like palming a hot stove… pain says ‘back off baby’ and we take action.

The root of the issue comes in AFTER the pulling away. The ruminating and pontificating (think cow chewing it’s cud. eww. but yes.) what that person said/did and “why would they do that” and “I should’ve said this” and “Ooooh if I see them tomorrow”. There’s the rub. We’re not acting to get away from pain any longer. We are now causing ourselves the pain by reliving the situation over and over and over in our heads. Some call it resentment… which essentially means to “re-feel”. That person is no longer able to affect us… except when we continue to try to ‘work it out’ in our head.

Pretty normal really, this ‘processing’. Trying to understand the how and the why of it all is one of our most endearing traits. Being logical folk, as of course we are, we want to know how not to palm hotness (no i’m not talking about sex… for once) again; we try to adapt so that we don’t experience that particular pain. What if we can’t figure it out? Worse yet … WHAT IF WE BELIEVE IT?

You see after the initial painful stimuli, we then have a choice; to buy it or not so much. Any of you in abusive relationships in the past know this routine. The batterer will tell you just enough of the truth to make the lie believable… until we begin to buy it on some level. It hides in the subconscious where it’s not easily accessed. Let’s put it this way… if a random stranger walked up and said “No one loves you, you worthless tramp.” It would hurt. His/her face would hurt more from you slapping them. Why is it that the same phrase can be said to you by boyfriend/girlfriend or mom/dad or someone CLOSE to you… and we make excuses or think they really didn’t mean it or accept their apology and hope for better tomorrow?

We buy it on some level. That maybe they’re right. They are the ones who know us best of all right? For us to stay around hurtful people means we’ve got to compromise our beliefs. Before you know it our self esteem chips away bit by bit, word by word, hit by hit… until you’re looking up at the world from the floor wondering how the hell you got there. Slow, methodical decline of the soul. If we LIKE ourselves we have a very low tolerance for bullshit from anyone. Bullshit being defined as intentionally cruel. Meaning to cause harm. You’re ugly, unworthy, disgusting, stupid, et. cetera. (bleck).

If someone says these things to you once… they WILL say them again. Once is too many times for intentional cruelty. The negative has a way of sticking. The positive… well that’s a whole other blog topic called “Why the hell can’t you just take a compliment already?” Yeah. That’s coming next week.

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fabulosity

humor, Self Esteem 2 Responses »

Mar 192012

I adore the above picture. It makes me laugh right out loud… and of course those that really know me KNOW that when I type it, I do it. In my head, bitch is a term of endearment and humor between women; if you were in need of a frame of reference.

What’s wrong with thinking we’re fabulous?

Again… WHAT’S. WRONG. WITH. THINKING. WE’RE. FABULOUS?

We’re taught especially as women, that bragging is wrong, that we should be demure shrinking violets, deny compliments, never toot your own proverbial horn, that modesty is a virtue… namely ‘cover those things up’. Femininity isn’t celebrated as it should be in my less than humble opinion.

Feeling fabulous is freeing. It’s taking joy in being a woman and all the amazing things that come with that. (Yes, even the hormones.) Feeling fabulous is to be able to express emotion and take joy in your own sensuality and allow yourself to adore… YOU.

Most of all… being fabulous DOES NOT mean that others AREN’T fabulous too.

Think about this, I treat others the way I feel about me. (I know. Blows my mind too. I mean all the mean, cruel people in the world REALLY must hate themselves yes? YES.) So if I think I’m fabulous, odds are good that I will view you in a similar light. Joy creates joy, love creates love, happy is contagious. When someone smiles at you, you’re hard pressed not to automatically smile back. That is until you remember that you’re unhappy and then turn that smile into a scowl just like the rest of the world.

Those that ridicule, criticize, gossip… well they’re NOT happy; NOT feeling their fabulosity or femininity or joy. Putting the bit in bitter is the name of that game. shaming and blaming others to make themselves feel tall. In effect it does the opposite, bringing toxicity as a cloud that envelopes and attracts only like minded bitter folks. True self esteem is always inclusive, creating good feelings to those all around. Think of that next time someone says words about another that drip with jealousy.

And truly the one being talked about is usually the one that LOOKS the happiest. Funny that.

So yes. YOU are fabulous, I am too. We all are, if we choose it to be so. So next time one of you walk by me and say with a smirk, “Out of my way bitch, I’m fabulous” I’m going to laugh and probably smack you on the rump as you walk by… which of course is EXACTLY why you would say it in the first place.

BE. FABULOUS.

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the walking through

Emotional Intelligence, Self Esteem 3 Responses »

Mar 102012

Sometimes things suck.

Sometimes things in our lives suck SO bad that it is overwhelming and frustrating and you feel like you’re looking up at the world from the floor. Kicked around by circumstances sometimes out of our control; our gut feels like the wrong end of a punching bag. It’s part of life, these times. Not everyday is a happy day, not everyone moment like Mary fucking Poppins on Quaaludes.

Overly happy is not reality.

I see well wishers tell others who are struggling… “Be happy” I get that. I do. But it really doesn’t do anyone any favors. The only way to get ‘through’ a situation is to walk right through it… to the other side. Even and especially if it is difficult. This is called courage. Be happy or Don’t cry are well meaning but counter productive. Pretty much a way of saying (without knowing it of course) I can’t hear what you’re going through and you’re making me uncomfortable.

It’s not so much what happens as what we DO with it that matters.

Acknowledgement and release matter. Stuffing feelings like a turkey will cause residual issues and does nothing to ‘deal’ with the situation. If you don’t deal with what’s going on in that head and heart of yours it’ll come out somewhere else for sure. Ever have those moments where your throat is so swollen with bleck that you can barely swallow? Leaking tears down the pink of your cheek? Yeah. Me too. Usually when I’ve not dealt with what’s going on at the present time.

Talk to a trusted source be it sponsor, friend, family, et cetera… but only if they can hang. Meaning they can really “listen”; because when it comes down to it, most times we just really need to be heard, to gain perspective and to expunge all that ick that’s renting space in our heads. Write it out (insert step work here), spew it, cry or holler… it doesn’t matter if its wrong or right or good or bad or indifferent. Release it and walk through it and you’ll be the better for it all.

Great things come from angst and the walking through. There is no way over or under or around this shit. Acting as if you’re “fine” when you’re not is a bit like a small child whistling in the dark. I’ve learned that the only way to get over fear of the dark is to ‘go there’; all the way, reach into that space and face that fear. Luckily we don’t HAVE to do it alone. There are people that can hang and won’t dismiss you with a ‘get over it’ remark. I’m completely comfortable with people having emotions other than “happy”. We’ll just sit together and simply be. I have a flashlight. Let’s do this.

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