So, it's been a while...(that's how the Rug Doctor told me to start...and then see what happens, she said.)
I haven't blogged in a while. Life has kind of been a pile of crap lately and I haven't had much to say that is really worthy of blogging about without getting out a violin and playing some sort of sad music. If I was a radio station I would be WHAA 95.3 the station where the hits just keep coming...all of yesterdays sad music mixed with today's angry girl rock. I didn't even want to tune in, how could I expect anyone else to want to? Anyway, today was Therapy Thursday, which usually gets the thoughts all churned up, so I thought I would give this a go tonight.
I walked in to therapy tonight and informed the Rug Doctor that I likely had the beginning stages of Ebola, but as long as we didn't french kiss and I didn't shit bloody diarrhea all over her couch and she didn't attempt to clean it up with open sores on her bare hands, we should be okay. She seemed unconcerned and advised me, as she often does, that while it is possible to die from Ebola, it is highly unlikely that I will. I went on to explain to her about the movie Outbreak where one person coughs and all that juicy phlegm is in the air and then someone else breathes in or has an open sore and then it's over, it spreads like wildfire. Why, just last weekend, all those people from Dallas flew in for the football game. How do we know they didn't bring it with them? How do we know that some lady on the same plane didn't get sneezed on and now she was at the Everett Safeway this morning at the same time I was and sneezed, and maybe I don't remember it because I don't remember when everyone sneezes, but maybe she did and I breathed it in? What if that happened. She's a carrier, she doesn't realize yet and now she spread it to me and BAM! Ebola epidemic! I go to work and cough and spread it there in the call center where the ventilation is horrible and all of us are breathing it in and then we go to the grocery store because fat people work at the call center so are already unhealthy, but now we're hungry so we go to the store and now we give it to others who take it home to their families and give it to the kids who take it to school and pretty soon, everyone is dead. Look, I'm no genius, but if I'm a terrorist, I'm going to start with world domination and complete extermination of the human race by putting that Ebola shit in a call center, the root of all evil. The Rug Doctor still seemed skeptical, but said I looked like I was well enough to not shit bloody diarrhea on her couch. Sure, the snot was running faster than I could eat it, but I was well enough to function without diapers. With that out of the way, I was now able to focus on other more pressing matters, although, I don't know how they could be more pressing considering I have the early stages of Ebola.
We shifted the subject to the hot mess that is my head. We talked about how I was feeling frustrated about taking care of everyone in every aspect of life, how I was frustrated with feeling stuck and unable to really get moving again on my life goals. I told her how I saw this quote on Facebook the other day that just pissed me off. "If it is important to you, you will find a way. If it is NOT, you will find an excuse". - Monster Factory. So, my goals apparently aren't important? Because I have not been able to achieve what I want and have lost my way, I'm an excuse maker? This is where my "critical voice" kicks in and tells me "I told you so...loser." Apparently the critical voice along with my anxiety voice and depressed voice, or whatever that one was, over-ride the reasonable voice. The reasonable voice is the one I need, but I keep telling it to shut up. Apparently. So, the Rug Doctor says that the quote doesn't take into account the struggle along the way. Things are important to me, that doesn't mean there isn't a struggle along the way. Struggles do not equal excuses. I'm going to have to let the voices work this one out. It's out of my hands at this point.
I think the highlight of our session is when we discussed allowing the reasonable voice to push through and say, "today is not going to totally suck, we are doing the best we can" and just go with that and not expect so much from the day. In doing so, that hopefully stops the critical voice from saying, "I told you that you would fail." She said to celebrate the small victories, like, for example, "Today I didn't shit my pants on the couch." I couldn't even contain myself. I started laughing. I mean, seriously, the quality of my life is such that I have to hold on to the little golden nugget that I have not shit my pants. Anything beyond not shitting my pants is a freaking success story. I mean, I knew I was a mess, but even to me, this bar seems low. Well, I guess someone that loses their leg function has to learn to walk again, so this is my mental stability in a wheel chair waiting to upgrade to a walker. So, today was a freaking success story!!! I am proud of not soiling my panties. GO ME!!!
I left my session with much to consider. I advised the Rug Doctor to please not touch the trash can where my mucus filled used tissues laid in wait fostering the early stages of Ebola. I need her, I can't have her dying of Ebola. It would take me YEARS to get a new therapist up to speed. I mean, that is, if I don't have Ebola. I'm not saying I don't, I mean, it could happen. I'm not saying I want it to happen, but if I believe worst case scenario, then I will be pleasantly surprised, you know, like when I don't crap my pants.
Let this be a lesson to all of you. Set the bar low and all of your dreams will eventually come true, unless we all die from Ebola, in which case, it no longer matters. So, basically, do whatever the hell you want.
And remember, as my wise Rug Doctor says, you are doing the best you can on any given day and today is not going to totally suck. Words to live by. I do.
I haven't blogged in a while. Life has kind of been a pile of crap lately and I haven't had much to say that is really worthy of blogging about without getting out a violin and playing some sort of sad music. If I was a radio station I would be WHAA 95.3 the station where the hits just keep coming...all of yesterdays sad music mixed with today's angry girl rock. I didn't even want to tune in, how could I expect anyone else to want to? Anyway, today was Therapy Thursday, which usually gets the thoughts all churned up, so I thought I would give this a go tonight.
I walked in to therapy tonight and informed the Rug Doctor that I likely had the beginning stages of Ebola, but as long as we didn't french kiss and I didn't shit bloody diarrhea all over her couch and she didn't attempt to clean it up with open sores on her bare hands, we should be okay. She seemed unconcerned and advised me, as she often does, that while it is possible to die from Ebola, it is highly unlikely that I will. I went on to explain to her about the movie Outbreak where one person coughs and all that juicy phlegm is in the air and then someone else breathes in or has an open sore and then it's over, it spreads like wildfire. Why, just last weekend, all those people from Dallas flew in for the football game. How do we know they didn't bring it with them? How do we know that some lady on the same plane didn't get sneezed on and now she was at the Everett Safeway this morning at the same time I was and sneezed, and maybe I don't remember it because I don't remember when everyone sneezes, but maybe she did and I breathed it in? What if that happened. She's a carrier, she doesn't realize yet and now she spread it to me and BAM! Ebola epidemic! I go to work and cough and spread it there in the call center where the ventilation is horrible and all of us are breathing it in and then we go to the grocery store because fat people work at the call center so are already unhealthy, but now we're hungry so we go to the store and now we give it to others who take it home to their families and give it to the kids who take it to school and pretty soon, everyone is dead. Look, I'm no genius, but if I'm a terrorist, I'm going to start with world domination and complete extermination of the human race by putting that Ebola shit in a call center, the root of all evil. The Rug Doctor still seemed skeptical, but said I looked like I was well enough to not shit bloody diarrhea on her couch. Sure, the snot was running faster than I could eat it, but I was well enough to function without diapers. With that out of the way, I was now able to focus on other more pressing matters, although, I don't know how they could be more pressing considering I have the early stages of Ebola.
We shifted the subject to the hot mess that is my head. We talked about how I was feeling frustrated about taking care of everyone in every aspect of life, how I was frustrated with feeling stuck and unable to really get moving again on my life goals. I told her how I saw this quote on Facebook the other day that just pissed me off. "If it is important to you, you will find a way. If it is NOT, you will find an excuse". - Monster Factory. So, my goals apparently aren't important? Because I have not been able to achieve what I want and have lost my way, I'm an excuse maker? This is where my "critical voice" kicks in and tells me "I told you so...loser." Apparently the critical voice along with my anxiety voice and depressed voice, or whatever that one was, over-ride the reasonable voice. The reasonable voice is the one I need, but I keep telling it to shut up. Apparently. So, the Rug Doctor says that the quote doesn't take into account the struggle along the way. Things are important to me, that doesn't mean there isn't a struggle along the way. Struggles do not equal excuses. I'm going to have to let the voices work this one out. It's out of my hands at this point.
I think the highlight of our session is when we discussed allowing the reasonable voice to push through and say, "today is not going to totally suck, we are doing the best we can" and just go with that and not expect so much from the day. In doing so, that hopefully stops the critical voice from saying, "I told you that you would fail." She said to celebrate the small victories, like, for example, "Today I didn't shit my pants on the couch." I couldn't even contain myself. I started laughing. I mean, seriously, the quality of my life is such that I have to hold on to the little golden nugget that I have not shit my pants. Anything beyond not shitting my pants is a freaking success story. I mean, I knew I was a mess, but even to me, this bar seems low. Well, I guess someone that loses their leg function has to learn to walk again, so this is my mental stability in a wheel chair waiting to upgrade to a walker. So, today was a freaking success story!!! I am proud of not soiling my panties. GO ME!!!
I left my session with much to consider. I advised the Rug Doctor to please not touch the trash can where my mucus filled used tissues laid in wait fostering the early stages of Ebola. I need her, I can't have her dying of Ebola. It would take me YEARS to get a new therapist up to speed. I mean, that is, if I don't have Ebola. I'm not saying I don't, I mean, it could happen. I'm not saying I want it to happen, but if I believe worst case scenario, then I will be pleasantly surprised, you know, like when I don't crap my pants.
Let this be a lesson to all of you. Set the bar low and all of your dreams will eventually come true, unless we all die from Ebola, in which case, it no longer matters. So, basically, do whatever the hell you want.
And remember, as my wise Rug Doctor says, you are doing the best you can on any given day and today is not going to totally suck. Words to live by. I do.
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