I have a faith. A Faith in not only a 'Higher Being' but a belief in God. I believe that He has created everything and is omnipotent. I believe I can pray/talk to Him and He will answer me...on a need to know basis. OR He will work things out...not always the way YOU want it to, but what ends up being the best thing that affects not just YOU but the other ppl that would be impacted by it all.
Blind faith. It is as much a part of me as my eye color. I don't go around shoving my beliefs down other ppl's throats. If someone asks, I share MY beliefs and WHY I believe that way. I am a CHRISTIAN because I believe Jesus was the son of God...not some long-haired, sandal wearing pre-cursor to '70's hippie nuts (they don't grow on trees).
So, from there....my mind works like someone that is continuously trying to figure out the mysteries of the rubiks cube. I pray about things and just pray for the situation to be 'fixed' and for understanding. But it is hard for anything to get through to me since my mind is already trying to figure out the next move and find the answers on its own.
I have complained to my mother on numerous occassions that God always seems to drop the things I dislike the most in my lap. However, I take it and go on with it and in the end it all has turned me into a more tolerant, understanding person.
That all leads to this...I have not, so far, gotten a teaching job with an online school. It would be, in MY estimation, the best fit for me. It would be insulary...not much contact with ppl in person, I wouldn't have to leave my nice little world and there would not be terrible discipline problems to deal with. I have been praying to God telling Him I know He will point me in the right direction for me to take.
This morning I woke up, let the dogs outside, made my coffee and sat down thinking about my kids and their journey with anxiety and the coming school year for both of them. I also was thinking about my husband and his weeks of travel and how it has come to the point where I actually get anxious and depressed when he is gone for more than 2-3 days at a time. THEN it hit me...how my world over the years has shrunk and how it has become just this plot of land with a house on it. I talk to some of the neighbors once in a while but to actually get out and join in things and be around ppl has become such a TASK...and I have dropped out of everything that would bring actual face-to-face contact. Then DING! I get it...I HAVE to be pried out of my nice, snuggly tiny little world before it swallows me whole.
I don't like substitute teaching. Believe it or not, it is not the time in the class that bothers me...it is the anxiety that leads up to it. I get all anxious wondering if I am going to be called the next morning and if I am, where is it they are going to ask me to go/do? I worked for a school system once (the one back home) where the one incharge of calling the substitutes would call me in advance when she knew teachers were going to be out and assign me ahead of time. Then it got to a point where certain teachers just wanted me in their classrooms when they were gone so getting called at the last minute to be in a classroom that I was used to with a group of kids that was used to me was not so anxiety inducing.
I have begun filling out the application for substitute teaching in the school district that I am living in now. My son and I are still sharing a car but 3 out of the 5 school buildings in the area are within a 5-7 minute walking distance. Hopefully, if I get enough work, I will have a vehicle of my own before the snow starts to fall. My son doesn't have college classes until early evening anyway so if I had the car to sub at the high school he would have it back in more than enough time to get to his class. If he is working at his part-time job on one of those days he could drop me off at my teaching assignment before he got to work (which is a 10-12 minute walk for him anyway) then he would be done about the same time I am and he could pick me up AND his sister as she gets off the bus from the Career Tech Center..which will let her off at the middle school, anyway, which is one of those schools that is a 5-7 minute walk from home. The only day that the car would not be available for me is Monday when jr. has classes from noon until after 7.
This could be a good thing for me. Substitute teaching doesn't pay all that great and there aren't any benefits...but luckily I don't need the benefits since I have them through my husband's employer AND I don't need to live off of the substitute pay. I just need to make a car payment, pay off my Penneys charge, and pay my cell phone bill. Anything else would go into the vacation fund. And perhaps the whole thing will help me not be so anxiety riddled over joining back up with some of the things I have pulled myself out of over time.
I know some ppl would tell me the thoughts I had were just my subconscious coming to some conclusions that it could finally shoot to my conscious mind. And if that is what blows your skirt up...you are certainly entitled to your opinion. However, I do not believe that. I believe my mind stopped long enough to listen and God was finally able to give me an answer as to WHY I have not been hired for an online teaching job.
I also believe in the Rapture..and for those that don't and think it is something that was invented by religious leaders that just wanted to scare ppl...that is for YOU to believe and don't dare to refer to me and my beliefs as stupid and ignorant, etc. I look at it this way...if I am making myself ready for the Rapture and it doesn't happen the worst that will happen is that I have become a better person/better Christian. If there IS a Rapture and YOU are not ready for it, I get to go to Heaven and you get to struggle with the aftermath. And that's how I see it...in my little world.
Friday, August 12, 2011
Monday, August 8, 2011
Cob Web Cleaner
My memory is not the greatest...long term, short term...either one. I can admit that. I don't like it but I can admit that.
My mom has a bad habit of saying, "do you remember Mr. Crabtree?"
Me, searching through the cobwebs in my empty attic of a brain, "ummmmm...I don't recall him."
Mom, "Emil Crabtree?" (I'm shaking my head slowly) "Oh sure you do! He and his wife Agnes...went to Greystone Baptist Church.." (I'm raising my eyebrows, eyes wide, pursing my lips, sighing...still shaking my head) "they would dress in matching outfits, always sit on the left side of the church..."
I left out another sigh that sounds like it is chasing out my words, "nope...sorry...I just don't remember!"
She gives me that look like I'm just not trying or I'm lying...either way, she is frustrated with me and grunts at me then starts with, "Well ANYWAY..."
My kids will do the, "I TOLD you!" to which I will follow it up with, "I'm not saying you didn't...I'm saying I don't remember!"
I spend a goodly number of minutes of my day retracing my steps trying to find the coffee cup that I set down somewhere that I was most certain was at least half full of some really good coffee...only to find it half an hour later with very cold coffee in it...and it is only two sips, not a half cup.
You know what I blame it on? I blame it on using both halves of my brain. One should either be left brain functioning or right brain functioning. For instance:
While typing this I am watching a serious cop show while having a discussion with my daughter and her friend Amber about how to keep a flying squirrel from slamming into the wall when you throw them (everyone knows that you have to buy the attachable front airbag and back-up parachute separate!). The cop show is making me angry while the girls are shaking their heads, laughing and telling me how disturbed I am.
DISTURBIA...the sign that hangs over the entrance to the cobweb infested empty attic of my brain.
This is what a double-use sided brain gets you (besides a large prescription for buspirin):
As I drove into the Wally World parking lot I slowed for a large woman using a cart as her personal walker while she swayed back and forth as if to a soundtrack of Michael Buble singing, ironically enough, 'Sway' in her head while huffing and puffing as if every step was squeezing the last bit of wind from her lungs, with whom I assumed to be her zombified teenage daughter scuffling slowly behind in her well-worn flip flops while using what is left of her human operating system to click out a text message to her equally zombified teenage friends. Not wanting to try and maneuver my car around these two subscribers to the Law of Snail Speed...I went to the next aisle and promptly pulled my car into the first available slot. I HAD contemplated giving the two travelers-at-the-speed-of-smell a little nudge with the front bumper of my car as my way of helping out the forward moving challenged but I kinda like not having damage to the front of my car. After a short conversation with the male offspring of mine who was settling into his seat as if it was his own personal twin bed, I prepared to exit the car. HOWEVER, who was in my way but the aforementioned Forward Moving Challenged mother and daughter...squeezing between my car and the one beside me becuz, as it ironically turns out, it is THEIR mode of transportation and Large Woman wants to put the contents of the cart into the trunk. Meanwhile, the zombie girl slows to a millimeter a minute shuffle by my door, obviously unaware of my eyes watching her and my door slightly ajar. I thought of turning my head away while quickly throwing the door open, causing the zombie girl's phone to be dropped to the ground and break open, slide under her mother's vehicle while she falls forward into the back of said large pillowy mother, which breaks HER fall while the cart goes rolling too fast for mom to hang onto and mom falls forward to the ground, where, upon contract, her large bosoms act as big rubber kickballs and she bounces back up, and backwards, onto her daughter and into my door, causing it to close on my leg...and that right there is the reason while I chose to wait for zombie girl to slowly inch far enough past my door so that I could exit without bumping into her.
And all becuz I got out on the wrong side of the bed...or was it the right side? It all depends on if you are lying on your back or your stomach when you wake up.
Okay...
My mom has a bad habit of saying, "do you remember Mr. Crabtree?"
Me, searching through the cobwebs in my empty attic of a brain, "ummmmm...I don't recall him."
Mom, "Emil Crabtree?" (I'm shaking my head slowly) "Oh sure you do! He and his wife Agnes...went to Greystone Baptist Church.." (I'm raising my eyebrows, eyes wide, pursing my lips, sighing...still shaking my head) "they would dress in matching outfits, always sit on the left side of the church..."
I left out another sigh that sounds like it is chasing out my words, "nope...sorry...I just don't remember!"
She gives me that look like I'm just not trying or I'm lying...either way, she is frustrated with me and grunts at me then starts with, "Well ANYWAY..."
My kids will do the, "I TOLD you!" to which I will follow it up with, "I'm not saying you didn't...I'm saying I don't remember!"
I spend a goodly number of minutes of my day retracing my steps trying to find the coffee cup that I set down somewhere that I was most certain was at least half full of some really good coffee...only to find it half an hour later with very cold coffee in it...and it is only two sips, not a half cup.
You know what I blame it on? I blame it on using both halves of my brain. One should either be left brain functioning or right brain functioning. For instance:
While typing this I am watching a serious cop show while having a discussion with my daughter and her friend Amber about how to keep a flying squirrel from slamming into the wall when you throw them (everyone knows that you have to buy the attachable front airbag and back-up parachute separate!). The cop show is making me angry while the girls are shaking their heads, laughing and telling me how disturbed I am.
DISTURBIA...the sign that hangs over the entrance to the cobweb infested empty attic of my brain.
This is what a double-use sided brain gets you (besides a large prescription for buspirin):
As I drove into the Wally World parking lot I slowed for a large woman using a cart as her personal walker while she swayed back and forth as if to a soundtrack of Michael Buble singing, ironically enough, 'Sway' in her head while huffing and puffing as if every step was squeezing the last bit of wind from her lungs, with whom I assumed to be her zombified teenage daughter scuffling slowly behind in her well-worn flip flops while using what is left of her human operating system to click out a text message to her equally zombified teenage friends. Not wanting to try and maneuver my car around these two subscribers to the Law of Snail Speed...I went to the next aisle and promptly pulled my car into the first available slot. I HAD contemplated giving the two travelers-at-the-speed-of-smell a little nudge with the front bumper of my car as my way of helping out the forward moving challenged but I kinda like not having damage to the front of my car. After a short conversation with the male offspring of mine who was settling into his seat as if it was his own personal twin bed, I prepared to exit the car. HOWEVER, who was in my way but the aforementioned Forward Moving Challenged mother and daughter...squeezing between my car and the one beside me becuz, as it ironically turns out, it is THEIR mode of transportation and Large Woman wants to put the contents of the cart into the trunk. Meanwhile, the zombie girl slows to a millimeter a minute shuffle by my door, obviously unaware of my eyes watching her and my door slightly ajar. I thought of turning my head away while quickly throwing the door open, causing the zombie girl's phone to be dropped to the ground and break open, slide under her mother's vehicle while she falls forward into the back of said large pillowy mother, which breaks HER fall while the cart goes rolling too fast for mom to hang onto and mom falls forward to the ground, where, upon contract, her large bosoms act as big rubber kickballs and she bounces back up, and backwards, onto her daughter and into my door, causing it to close on my leg...and that right there is the reason while I chose to wait for zombie girl to slowly inch far enough past my door so that I could exit without bumping into her.
And all becuz I got out on the wrong side of the bed...or was it the right side? It all depends on if you are lying on your back or your stomach when you wake up.
Okay...
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Go Pedal Crazy Somewhere Else...
I found out today that TJ has weened himself off of his anxiety meds. He said he quit 3 weeks ago and has already gone through withdrawal, that's why he was feeling so sick for a bit. He KNOWS this is dangerous to quit them cold turkey but I also assume that he was not taking them on a daily basis before he just quit taking them altogether.
He said, "I feel just fine! I was only taking them to help me get rid of my tics but it wasn't doing anything for that so...why bother? I'm doing good!"
I find it rather extraordinary that he quit taking his meds about the same time he started a new job. I'm glad he didn't tell me. He knows I would have been 'helicopter mom' and hovered, wringing my hands and watching his every move.
I told him that I had come to the conclusion, anyway, after some more research, that he had possibly been misdiagnosed. I told him I thought his problem was more that he has a very high functioning aspergers. He just kind of looked at me like I'm nuts. I told him it is just a theory...after all, he was always more comfortable with the adults, had problems relating to ones his own age, the anxiety and panic attacks are something that can come with aspergers, along with the tics, and his proclivaty to becoming zeroed in on/attached to certain things and the way he has of being able to remember details of things that the majority of the population doesn't hardly notice. He just stood there thinking about that and he finally shrugged and said, "Whatever...I just wish there was a pill I could take to get rid of these tics." His tics consist of mimicing the facial expressions of people he's watching on TV/in movies, etc. Not those of actual ppl in front of him. AND he tends to make a little flapping noise with his lips when he's not paying attention to himself. Could be worse.
He had a new girlfriend. He was so proud of the fact that she is still a virgin, a Christian, goes to college and is not adorned by tatoos or facial piercings. He brought her home to dinner one night last week. He went to her church this last Sunday morning to meet her family and other friends. Then, Monday night he announced to me that he broke it off with her. I was surprised. "Why?"
"She's just another crazy chick. I got so I was afraid to look at my text messages. Every day it was something else she wanted to pick a fight about. I got sick of the constant insecurities and the arguing. I just finally told her to go away and take her crazy with her."
I just told him that I am proud of the fact that he has finally learned to get rid of the drama in his life that he really doesn't need to hang on to. And perhaps this is why he really doesn't need his meds anymore.
He is feeling more confident with his life...although he still has a long way to go with his schooling...but he is feeling good about his job. I am glad he found a niche that he fits in for now. So far, he is the ONLY ONE that hasn't been written up for work infractions. He laughs becuz he says that they thought they all had him figured out as to who he is at work but are constantly surprised.
For instance, he said that he swore at work the other day and they all gasped. It wasn't the swearing...it was the fact that HE swore. I laughed and told him that I thought maybe they thought he was a stoner cuz he seems so low keyed and talks rather monotone, doesn't move very fast, and there is no level of excitement about him. He said, 'Um...no...they think I am some kind of choir boy...mostly becuz Dad told the manager before she hired me that I am a clean cut, church attending, dependable guy.'
Well...he is clean cut looking, even when he chooses to sport a 3 day growth on his face, and he does attend church but that doesn't mean he is a bible thumping choir boy. He doesn't drink, doesn't smoke, has no tatoos, no piercings...just wants life to be real without the drama...or the crazy.
Boy...do I get that!
He said, "I feel just fine! I was only taking them to help me get rid of my tics but it wasn't doing anything for that so...why bother? I'm doing good!"
I find it rather extraordinary that he quit taking his meds about the same time he started a new job. I'm glad he didn't tell me. He knows I would have been 'helicopter mom' and hovered, wringing my hands and watching his every move.
I told him that I had come to the conclusion, anyway, after some more research, that he had possibly been misdiagnosed. I told him I thought his problem was more that he has a very high functioning aspergers. He just kind of looked at me like I'm nuts. I told him it is just a theory...after all, he was always more comfortable with the adults, had problems relating to ones his own age, the anxiety and panic attacks are something that can come with aspergers, along with the tics, and his proclivaty to becoming zeroed in on/attached to certain things and the way he has of being able to remember details of things that the majority of the population doesn't hardly notice. He just stood there thinking about that and he finally shrugged and said, "Whatever...I just wish there was a pill I could take to get rid of these tics." His tics consist of mimicing the facial expressions of people he's watching on TV/in movies, etc. Not those of actual ppl in front of him. AND he tends to make a little flapping noise with his lips when he's not paying attention to himself. Could be worse.
He had a new girlfriend. He was so proud of the fact that she is still a virgin, a Christian, goes to college and is not adorned by tatoos or facial piercings. He brought her home to dinner one night last week. He went to her church this last Sunday morning to meet her family and other friends. Then, Monday night he announced to me that he broke it off with her. I was surprised. "Why?"
"She's just another crazy chick. I got so I was afraid to look at my text messages. Every day it was something else she wanted to pick a fight about. I got sick of the constant insecurities and the arguing. I just finally told her to go away and take her crazy with her."
I just told him that I am proud of the fact that he has finally learned to get rid of the drama in his life that he really doesn't need to hang on to. And perhaps this is why he really doesn't need his meds anymore.
He is feeling more confident with his life...although he still has a long way to go with his schooling...but he is feeling good about his job. I am glad he found a niche that he fits in for now. So far, he is the ONLY ONE that hasn't been written up for work infractions. He laughs becuz he says that they thought they all had him figured out as to who he is at work but are constantly surprised.
For instance, he said that he swore at work the other day and they all gasped. It wasn't the swearing...it was the fact that HE swore. I laughed and told him that I thought maybe they thought he was a stoner cuz he seems so low keyed and talks rather monotone, doesn't move very fast, and there is no level of excitement about him. He said, 'Um...no...they think I am some kind of choir boy...mostly becuz Dad told the manager before she hired me that I am a clean cut, church attending, dependable guy.'
Well...he is clean cut looking, even when he chooses to sport a 3 day growth on his face, and he does attend church but that doesn't mean he is a bible thumping choir boy. He doesn't drink, doesn't smoke, has no tatoos, no piercings...just wants life to be real without the drama...or the crazy.
Boy...do I get that!
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