Educate Yourself: Don't be an A-Hole

Ah, the internet....

Yesterday I was casually scrolling Facebook reading various articles that people post and reading some that just had catchy headlines that I might want to read about. I was having my coffee and smoking my cigarette, like I do every morning. An article caught my eye about white girls wearing cornrows and the term "cultural appropriation" also popped up in this article. Naturally I read the comments because, hey, sometimes they're good for a laugh, sometimes people have good perspective, and generally I just want to know what other people think. 

I found that what other people think is also very, very ugly. My mood had noticeably shifted from "hey! it's gonna be a great day!" to "blah. I think I'll take a nap" after reading some of the comments on this article. Among them were, "So? Who cares it's just hair!" to "Well we live in America of course we like things from other cultures" to general history lessons about corn rows, which then became misunderstood and turned into "braids" and how anyone can wear cornrows because hey, Native American wear braids. Then things like, ""I have to wear my hair in two braids everyday because my hair is frizzy." Which is NOT at ALL the same as cornrows. I took notice of how others' opinions made me feel. I debated getting off of Facebook for awhile several times because of the negativity. Discussions about culture, politics, abortion, gay marriage, guns, and other world issues used to be fodder for discussion around the dinner table at large meals such as Thanksgiving with family and friends. But now thanks to social media, I can know damn near everyone's opinion on these subjects, and I fight the urge to tell people "you're an idiot" on a daily basis. But hey, everyone gets their own opinion, right? 

So we've got Black Lives Matter, Blue Lives Matter, All Lives Matter, and as of yesterday with the confederate flag, gun-toting weenies in front of the NAACP trying to make "White Lives Matter" a thing. This really tanked my mood. Racism is ugly, people. You can come from whichever side you choose and post pictures that various news sites dig up saying, "Well but he was a thug" or "He was a bad cop" and put whatever spin on it that suits your views. But you know what? You might not agree with someones LIFESTYLE choices, but someone loved them. We've all seen the recent pictures of Sylville Smith in Milwaukee holding various guns on his social media pages, but that is a LIFESTYLE, not a CULTURE. A lot of people have this confused. Might want to read up on the difference. I certainly don't want to be lumped in with Jeffrey Dahmer because he was a white, cannibal serial killer. 

But you know, I read the article. I read the cultural appropriation article. I read the "(insert life) Matters" articles because I need to educate myself. I tend to whittle down my friends list when I see that some of my "friends" refuse to educate themselves on issues. I could care less who you vote for and I'll never be educated enough to have a political discussion, but when it comes to humanity, I care about your character and your compassion, and generally what kind of human you are to a waitress, a Walmart worker, an elderly person, a child, people of different colors, people of different cultures, people of different genders...I care about how you treat them. There is nothing that will make me unfriend you quicker than when you show me you're an insensitive a**hole.  Usually social media is the place that you find out that people you know are not who you thought they were, and one can lose respect for others with one insult laden comment on a discussion thread. Or forwarding chain mails, scams, hoaxes....do your research, people. No one is giving you free money, a free Xbox One, or a year's supply of chili dogs. 

I find myself at a turning point at 41. I moved back to Iowa and I want to learn about football and become a Hawkeye fan. I find myself wanting to know about issues. Not for discussion purposes, but because I want to be a better person. If there is a culture, gender, or race that is hurting, I want to know why and how I can help. I'm working on reading about the Bible because I just learned that contrary to my religious upbringing, some of it is true, and some of it might be actual stories. Shocker, right?  But I want to know these things. 

I never really thought of myself as an opinionated person, mainly because I don't have opinions on things like politics, abortions, gun control, gay marriage...my "opinion" is to each his own. I always felt like if I had an opinion on those things, really, how would that help anybody? And who really needs to hear it even if I did have opinions on these things? I'm not that special. That's not to say I don't have opinions because in my opinion, Bit-O-Honey, Whoppers, and caramels are the worst Halloween candy ever. I'm going to keep drinking Diet Coke no matter how many health nuts tell me "ohhhh but the aspartame." One Direction sucks. Winter sucks. Android sucks. Apple rocks! These seemingly inconsequential things matter. These opinions matter. If someone accidentally gives me a bag of Whoppers, that directly affects me. 

Your actions and words directly affect others.  Your social media posts affect others. Educate yourself. Learn. Grow.  Don't be an a**hole. 

What Can I Do for You Today?

So like I said, I usually have fantastic ideas at around 5 in the morning. This morning was no different. I had the two cats and the dog on the bed and I was thinking about whether to get up and pee or just hold it, so as not to run the risk of moving the animals and making them think it was time to get up and party. 

Usually I will write something about whatever is weighing on me or the thought that feels the loudest. I had this thought, then I went about my morning routine and sat down to play my Cookie Cats and Pets Unleashed afterward.  But my brain was nagging at me. "Get up and write this!!" I tried to ignore it. "Hey!! Hey you!!! You better write this. It's been like two days since you did anything. DO IT!!!" 

So here I am. 

My husband just got back from being away from home for two weeks for an army exercise. When he leaves, I'm saying to myself, "I get to hog the bed, hog the remote, I can feed the kids sandwiches for dinner, and I don't have to pick up someone else's laundry!" I realized over the last couple weeks that he was gone, that excitement only goes so far. I could see the signs of depression creeping in even thought I take an SSRI. 

Day 1: Welp, he's gone. I think I'll clean up. 

Day 2: He's still gone. Guess maybe I'll do the dishes. Later. When I get around to it.

Day 3-5: Guess I better shower. Dishes? Don't care. Laundry? Don't care. I'm just gonna sit here and do nothing. Maybe I'll take a nap from my hard day of doing nothing.

Day 6-8:  Guess I should at least take the kids swimming or something.

Day 9-11: Meh.

Day 12: I'm gonna start cleaning today!! He'll be home in two days! I gotta start looking like I did something! I think I'll take a nap first though.

Day 13: Ok I promise I'll clean today. I don't wanna have to do all of it tomorrow. I'm motivated! I'll be more motivated after I nap. (Smells armpits) ok I'll shower after I nap. 

Day 14: Today is the day!!! House only took 10 minutes to clean, I'm showered and yay!! He's coming home today! 

To be fair to myself, I did take the kids out of the house quite a bit, but for the most part, taking a nap is my way of coping with boredom and depression, because I convince myself that "I don't feel good." I don't feel any better after napping, but I guess it's a way to check out for a bit. I didn't have any friends here yet either, so it's not like I could have someone come over and hang out. Just meeeee and the kids. For two weeks. Straight. 

So when he does come home, he's functioning at about 30%. One of the things that drives me crazy is people who are like, "Marriage is 50/50 so I dumped the kids on him because I've had them for two weeks." Or another one I've seen this week is "Marriage isn't 50/50, it's 100/100." More bullshit. Even when he comes home, I will still "have" the kids for at least another few days because he needs time to recover. And even though he came home, he still had to go out to more army exercise this weekend. I used to play that game, the one where one person is less functional than the other, and an argument ensues about "who has it harder" and one person ends up sleeping on the couch, completely ruining the homecoming. 

I used to have this friend who I have had to use the "hide" feature on Facebook with because I was tired of seeing posts from her like, "This time it's gonna be all about me" and "I'm putting me first." Well, that's all well and good, but not at all practical. I get that sometimes you can feel like you put another's needs so far above yours that you're just done. But I feel like it's also a sign of poor boundaries. And hey, you know, you are free at any time to just say no. 

We will be married 11 years this year. I was kind of afraid when he asked me to marry him because my previous marriages had only lasted three years. I mean ok so one was kind of gay and the other was just mean and there's no reason that they should've lasted longer unless I was really a glutton for punishment, but thankfully I had good sense. But I still worried that only three years was a statement to how I was as a wife. I will say he has put up with my crazy when all of my PTSD and anxiety blew up in my face two years ago. He helped me learn new techniques to combat my anxiety. He's taken me to the hospital to walk laps when my PTSD took over and I felt like I might die and I needed to be near the hospital "just in case." I knew it was irrational, but never once did he say, "This is stupid." Sure we've had our share of arguments in 11 years, but you know, I have grown as a person and learned. And asked myself, "how can I be better?" This is why 11 years. Even when he comes home and he can be only 20 or 30%, I want to serve. I want to be his 80%. 

He is gone at work today, but since he came home, my motivation is back. I want to attack that pile of laundry, and I want to attack it with happiness! 

So my friends, if you have a spouse/girlfriend/boyfriend/significant other, I challenge you to do at least one thing today that will help make their day better. Put the "me first" aside and give something. Even if you only have 20% today, throw in 10. 

Disclaimer: Not saying it's gonna turn out good for everyone because hey, if you have a bum significant other, well, then some other alternatives: help make your dog's day better by taking him or her for a walk or buying a treat, hold a door open for a little old lady, or give a stranger a compliment. If you feel good and you're growing and learning, you're doing it right!

Divine Purpose?

So the other night I talked to my best friend on the phone. And when we talk, we really talk. For like two hours talk. We aren't the everyday texting type friends, hell, not even every other day. There are some people who believe that friendship is based on texting everyday, but that's just not us.  We had those conversations on the phone where she would bring something up, and I'd say, "That's funny you say that because I just thought about that." We really think we share the same brain. 

So the other night we talked and she said she wondered things like, what is my purpose, why am I here? (Then she said, "Oh ok you don't? Is it just me then?" See, she is hilarious!!) I used to wonder what my purpose was and why I was here. Sometimes I think we all feel a little useless in the day-to-day grind when we're working or parenting, or sitting around the house in our pajamas. I couldn't help but think, you're 40!! You should have this s*it figured out by now! Through a very long journey down the dark rabbit hole of mental illness and back up to the sweet light of day, I have figured out that I am here to serve others. I know this. Whether it's my children, my husband, my friends, or my work, it's what I do and what I'm passionate about. Even if I don't know you on a personal level, if we're in Walmart and you're struggling for that last bag of dog food on the top shelf, well, I'm kind of short but I will climb that shelf for you. 

So my friend, I needed to tell you that if you don't know why you're here, I might have a clue. You make people laugh. You have this way of being sarcastic and funny, but you aren't mean. There is never a conversation where my abs aren't sore because I laughed so hard. You are loyal. You never stopped being my best friend even when I had to take that two year detour to Oklahoma. You value life. I know I have had to be careful if I had a story about an animal that met its untimely demise because a sad animal story could bring you to tears. But you love, and you want to take care of everything, and I'm quite sure if you could have a wild pack of turkeys in your yard, you'd do it if it meant protecting them from a leopard who wanted Thanksgiving dinner early this year. 

You tell the truth. There were times in my life when I made some not so good choices. But you have this way that helps others understand that it might not be a good choice, but even if your friends insist on following through with the lapse in judgment, you still love them anyway.  

I can text you something dumb at 8:30 at night and you won't bat an eye:

"So guess what? There's a bird trapped in my house!!"

And then you'll come over after that text to help get the bird...only to realize, "Holy s*it!! It's not a bird it's not a bird it's not a bird!!! It's a freaking BAT!!!" But you still love the bat so much you set it free instead of whacking it with a broom. 

You've also gotten out of your pajamas for me on a Saturday night to hang out with me and the kids because I was lonely. You care about how others feel. But you also don't give a flying f*ck how some people feel. I envied that for a long time because there were just times I didn't want to care. 

I don't know if our purpose is some kind of big mystery that we have to figure out. I used to feel the need to know everything, but on my journey I've realized that you don't get to know everything all at once. Life hands you little gift boxes of wisdom when the time is right, and you get another piece of the puzzle. 

So my friend, while your puzzle is not yet complete, you are on a journey. The answers may not come today, tomorrow, or even in a year. But for this moment, know that you do have purpose, you are important, and you are loved. 

Thigh Gap/My Cat is an A**hole

So today lucky readers, you get two posts in one!

So a little bit of background for those who are reading but don't know me, or for my friends who don't actually know me, I have a few labels such as Generalized Anxiety, Panic Disorder, OCD, and PTSD. However, it's the OCD that gives me these strange thoughts that I share. I only know one other person who has weird thoughts and is perfectly willing to share them, and I think that's probably what makes us best friends. My oldest daughter also shares her weird thoughts, but I'm not sure if that counts because I'm pretty sure she is the (un)lucky recipient of my genetics. 

So because of my OCD, I have these weird, random thoughts that used to cause me distress, but because of excellent therapy and Sertraline, I have come to adopt and love them like the orphans they are. One of the things I "must" do is before taking a shower, I have to weigh myself and check for signs of random drooping or aging. So as I'm staring at myself in the mirror, I noticed that if my butt was a little higher, I could have a thigh gap. I was always puzzled about this mysterious thigh gap when it was big a couple years ago; I even had kids in my middle school class wondering if they were lucky enough to have it. So I raised my butt a little higher taking in what my body would look like, and tried to simultaneously hold my butt up and liposuction my outer thighs with my hands...I only have two hands, it was hard...

My first thought was who thought thigh gap was good enough to go viral and deemed it sexy? Yuck. Who was ridiculous enough to tell all women they should have one? Ewww. I happily dropped my butt and my thighs and jumped into the shower thinking about pizza. 

I also contemplated how I was going to contort my stomach into the newest viral obsession, the ab crack. I'll let you know how that goes. 


Second story, my cat is an asshole. I kind of knew cats were assholes, but I was lucky enough to catch my cat in the act. The situation: 3:00am this morning. I feel my cat on the bed, I give him a little scratch and he licks my hand. He jumps over my snugly, cocooned body to my nightstand.  I look over, and see I have choices but they have to be made fast: Salt lamp, iPhone, glass of water, cat.  A) I can roll over and pretend I see nothing. B) I can turn off the lamp, set the phone on the floor, roll over and pretend I see nothing. C) I can unroll myself out of my cocoon and dump the water in the bathroom sink, which seems too responsible for 3am. So the cat is licking my salt lamp, giving me a couple seconds to decide how to handle this potentially dangerous situation, which I know will ultimately be my own fault if I do not choose the correct answer. Then he does it. He turns into an asshole and head butts the water glass. I look at him, he looks at me, he knows he has won this battle.


I slowly get out of bed and dump the water in the sink....


Cat: 1 Kristen: 0

Level Up

As I mentioned in the "About Me" section of my blog, one of the things I enjoy is playing silly games on my phone. Currently, my top 3 are Pets Unleashed, Cookie Cats, and Nibblers. They all have the same concept as Candy Crush, but with a cute little animal twist. I was on that Candy Crush bandwagon and reached level 1011 before giving up. 

I put Candy Crush back on my phone the other day and played level 1011, after nearly two years of being away. Guess what? Level 1011 is still impassible. I was stuck on level 191 in Nibblers and was having thought of deleting the game because I had finally reached a level that I couldn't pass. Then guess what? I cleared the level! 

It occurred to me that these type of games are how I view my current situation. Yesterday I wrote about being unable to find work, even though I have a very marketable skill set. I would be honored to have me. But I think that my life has been about "leveling up." I have always tried to find the starting point and the end point, and each step in between, forming a strategy in my head. Getting my Master's degree, that was a "level up" choice. I would think that two Bachelor degrees were enough. However, if you want to get anywhere in social services, one needs a Master's and a license. 

Some of my choices have been to make others proud. I felt that I should be successful because then others would see my worth. I have always dreaded turning 40, but when I did, a miraculous thing happened. I stopped caring. That feeling became even better at 41. I didn't stop caring in the typical ways one should care. I still hold doors open for little old ladies, say please and thank you, defend others, and act with kindness and compassion. I just stopped caring about how far I should go to reach the next level. There are jobs I have worked where I have known people who have been there for five years and I have wondered how they do it. I'm bored after a year and ready to move onto another level. I don't know what that says about me. Maybe I haven't found my passion, maybe I'm just not content. But whatever I choose to do, I have realized that another person's opinion cannot play a role in my choices. 

I cleaned the house yesterday, but my son is a fan of taking his clothes off and dropping them wherever. There are Legos on the floor. There are shoes everywhere because we have an upstairs again, and upstairs equals lazy.  Goal for today: Level up on things that make a difference in someone else's life. 

Also, Cookie Cats level 313. I have persistence and the patience of Mother Theresa. Watch your back gophers. I will clear the level. 

First Post!

This morning I walked away. I saw it laying there on the floor, and I looked at it, and I walked away. I took the dog out, so I don't really understand why he couldn't just go when he had the opportunity, and instead leaving me with something else to clean up. I couldn't face it, so I turned my back on it, secretly hoping maybe my daughter would get up, see it, and have to clean it up. LAZY! I berated myself in my head. Ugh. 

I couldn't help but think of the symbolism in this pile of dog poop in my hallway. I have 3/4 of a Master's degree. I have so much experience in different areas, my resume boasts. I have applied to at least 15 jobs in the month having to do with social services and I have been on a few interviews, and passed on the ones that I felt wouldn't get me anywhere in my new field of Addictions counseling. Yet I cannot seem to understand when everyone else thinks my combination of education and experience is so great, I cannot find a job. 

So while I have scrolled through Careerbuilder and Indeed looking for jobs, I have given it a lot of consideration before applying, asking myself is the job really what I want to be doing? I can picture myself in the various roles, and the image looks a lot like that lonely pile of poop. People have told me that I should write. I never gave it much thought. I have heard from my husband that I should compile a book of short stories based on my nightmares, because they rival anything Stephen King has ever come up with. I kicked that idea around, and decided against it. 

I have the best ideas in that sleep/wake state when my animals tell me to get up and feed them, but my body wishes the dog and the cats could get their own breakfast. I have had thoughts about a vlog, like my kids watch on YouTube, but decided against that...too weird. So I thought about a regular old blog for awhile, and here we are. 

A friend of mine posted something on her Facebook page this morning, and a piece of it has been sticking in my mind.."I know my worth." I guess that's why I applied to jobs I didn't really want, because I wasn't thinking about my worth. I used to believe that social services was my punishment for my past sins because it required me to give so much to other people. I had a really good therapist that told me that I could help others without being in social services, and I didn't have to drain my energy and time, mostly giving it to people who really don't want to change. Don't get me wrong, some of those people I really enjoyed working with. But I have got to know my worth. I know that I am not worth $11.75 an hour in a job that is a continuous hamster wheel. Maybe it's not "I know my worth" but I have got to believe in my worth. 

Today I looked for some jobs, didn't apply to any because I know that I would not feel my worth in any of them. Today, I can feel my worth by picking up the pile of dog poop, cleaning up my son's Legos, helping my oldest daughter through a recent car accident over the phone, and passing along tips on how to "adult." I can finish the pile of laundry, and cook dinner. I can also do what I probably have wanted to do for a long time, sit down and write...and here we are.