COME OUT, COME OUT, WHEREVER YOU ARE!

I know it has been a long time since I have written. When I am embroiled in the strife and stress of life I tend to retreat and live inside my head. That was the entire reason I started this blog was to avoid this habit but as you can see I have been led astray by my own thoughts.

I have been pondering my future as of late. Trying to digest the ups and downs of finances, expanding my mind with further training and all the while attempting to balance my daily life - but I have been feeling less than inspired lately. This is not to say I am at a dead end or I 'cannot go on'. Frankly I don't know the meaning of the phrase...I am very stubborn (AKA tenacious). Lately I am just feeling a bit blah.

I am going to be very frank with you right now. I often battle depression. There it is - in all of its ugliness and controversy. As much as I would love to deny this fact, and as much as I try to hide it, this is the truth. And depression can be very debilitating in the best of times. Even now I am finding it difficult to fight the waves of emotion, the pit in my stomach and continue to write.

Sometimes there is no rhyme or reason to my bouts of the blues. They can come with the seasons or they can be a precursor to my period. I don't know if I have Seasonal Affective Disorder, PMDD, the blues, menopause or if I am just plain depressed. Whatever it is, the feelings come over me like a wave and I struggle to keep my head above water.

There have been a few times that I have been on Prozak but I DO NOT like myself when I am on it. I feel like a Stepford wife. When I am on meds you could shit in my living room and I would not even blink. I would simply retrieve the cleaning supplies and clean up the mess. If you know me and my personality you know that this would not be my natural reaction. Perhaps I could try a different medication but I am afraid this will happen to me again. Plus, I am not ALWAYS depressed. I have bouts of it. I don't want to be in a permanent haze just to avoid another bout - that just seems wrong somehow.

I think it's safe to say I am a very emotional person but this is not always a bad thing. This is what makes me sensitive to other people. It allows me to feel what they feel, to understand when they are experiencing their own difficulties. It also makes me better at my job. The art of advertising can easily be boiled down to the art of understanding emotions. Selling is understanding your audience. Understanding your audience is feeling what they feel. It's an ALMOST perfect fit.

On the flip side my emotions can make getting through each day a struggle. Sometimes I lose interest. I drift. I daydream. I become fixated on things that are of no real consequence. This is what I fight. And it is on those days I struggle to get through the day, put on a happy face, socialize, work, parent.

So now you know where I have been. I wish I hadn't been away so long but sometimes I struggle to talk or write because I don't always like to talk about my feelings. It's been my experience over the years that this topic makes people uncomfortable.
Hopefully reading this blog won't change your opinion of me but instead help to understand that when I seem far away and distant, I am not being rude, I am not angry at you, I am just treading water and trying hard to breathe.

Thanks to Sue for posting on my wall. That simple act gave me the inspiration to write again. And thanks for listening....and I'll try not to be so quiet for so long again.

THE SILVER SCREEN VS THE MIGHTY MACHINE

I watch a lot of movies. In most of them there is a series of events which culminate in a self realization which is preceded by a tragedy, or a test of moral fiber. Most times our lead character is triumphant in the end. Everything is tied up nice and neat and the people smile and ride off into the sunset. We see these movies and assume that all of this is just a fairy tale and none of this can happen to us in reality. Maybe this is true or maybe not. OR maybe we spend our lives trying to avoid the tragedy or the self realization or the conflict that allows us to have our aha moment.

One of my favourite plot lines is when the 'workaholic' dad or mom spends so much time at work they never see their kids. They don't know what is going on with their lives and have completely lost touch with their family. They spend every waking moment doing what the boss wants to 'get ahead' in the corporate world. Until that one fateful day when he misses a deadline and the boss fires him without a second thought. It's in that moment he realizes the 'value' he held at the company verses the value he has at home. He delivers a rather colourful monologue to his boss and goes home to play ball with his kids.

Sometimes OUR moments are not that extreme. Maybe it's the school play we missed every year because we work long hours. Maybe it's the meals that are eaten on the road because it's the only time we have. Or maybe it's the homework that doesn't get done because we don't have time to help. These are all moments that have consequences. We disappoint our children, our loved ones, our family and OURSELVES. These are the moments that should help us realize what is important in our lives.

I have heard the new generation referred to as self-entitled. They walk out of school and expect to be making the same money as the rest of us poor schleps without putting in the hours. That may be so but there is one thing they do have right. When the clock strikes 5pm they are done. It's time to live your life. Yet for some reason we as a working society frown on this notion. To be truthful I think they have it right.

There are many European cultures that DO NOT speak of work outside of work. They understand the idea of a balanced lifestyle. They do their hours in the office then they come home and live their lives. In other words they work to live - they do not live to work. Why does this seem to be a fantasy in our North American culture?

I know some of the arguments in favour of longer hours will revolve around commerce and 'the machine' but did you ever stop to wonder who benefits? And just how much MONEY does that machine need to make. We live in a society that sees the opportunity for the slice of the pie. We want it all and we want it bigger and bigger and bigger. We seem so focused on MORE we have lost sight of BETTER.

We talk about quality of life in this country but we really have no idea what it means. Quality of life isn't how big your SUV is or how beautiful home is. Quality of life is how your life is lived. It is the time you spend with people who love you and care about you. It is appreciating what you have as apposed to coveting what you don't. It's about the life you are sharing both yours with others and others with you.

So the next time you watch a movie try to imagine yourself in the leading role. Try to imagine what you would choose to do in that moment of crisis. What if you get fired tomorrow. What if you lose everything in the stock market. What if you have nothing but the clothes on your back. It's in this moment that we realize it's the relationships with others that sustains us. THEY give us the strength to move forward. For regardless of what tragedy is on the horizon for your leading lady, the people you love will be there to throw you a rope and pull you through.

WE ARE FAMILY!!!

My relationship with my family is a series of hills and valleys. That is to say that we have moments where we are so close and then there are those moments that we couldn't be more distant from each other. Ultmately though, I know that in the end we love each other and will be there for each other no matter what.

I think this is true of MOST families - not all but most. We all have the brother or sister that can sometimes grate on our nerves. They can be too controlling, too bossy, too lazy, lack structure. The fact is that no two people are alike and just because they come from the same gene pool - well that can make even more of a difference.

I have found that most of my understanding of my family has come with age. As teenagers my sister and I fought constantly. I was always capable of eliciting a reaction out of my sister and she was always eager to oblige. The fact was that my sister was always the older more 'responsible' one. She seemed to care more about things like cleaning, laundry, clothes etc. I was living in my head. So of course we misunderstood each other most of the time.

In my twenties I finally felt a real connection with my sister. I still noticed the differences but now we were both going to different schools and living in different cities. It was then that I realized how much I missed her. Most of all I missed someone that understood me. She had lived in the same house, had the same upbringing, had the same experiences. We always had that between us. I also missed having my big sister around to lean on.

My relationshiop with my mother has grown immensely since I have entered my thirties. Yes we too have our moments but now that I am a mother and I am experiencing a bit of adulthood myself I am starting to understand some of the decisions she has made over the years and the difficulties she as faced. All the while raising 2 girls.

I only hope that my girls appreciate one another and see the value in each other BEFORE they are in their twenties. I hope they know how important a sister is both now and in the future. And I hope that one day my girls will understand the decisions I have had to make as a mother.

So the next time your brother or sister is trying to take over your life or not pulling their weight at the next family event, try to imagine what it would be like if that person was not there at all. Imagine how different your life would be. Imagine how empty. Grab your sibling and say 'I love you...just the way you are." and then tell them to give you back the sweater they borrowed in 1993 because it's yours and she never asked if she could HAVE IT!!! hahaha-ish

YOUR FEET STINK!

My daughter's feet reek. She keeps sitting on the arm of the couch where I am sitting and I can't think of anything else other than the smell.

When I was a child, I was the only person allowed to keep my shoes on in the house because of the smell of my feet. Even my socks seemed to be falling off and flopping in front of me like a pair of clown shoes. It's like they were desperately trying to escape from their prison. I also recall having quite a few food stains on my shirts on regular occasion which would make sense considering what a sloppy child I was.

My room left nothing to be desired either. I had no carpet on my floor but the stuffed toys I left on it meant I never had to touch the ground. I even remember laying on them to sleep when the mood would strike. I hardly ever cleaned up after myself. My mother often resorted to bribery to keep my room clean. Once my room stayed clean for an entire month for which I was rewarded with a stuffed teddy ironically.


I also recall some very interesting outfits I put together. One particular outfit that sticks out in my memory was a yellow Kiss t-shirt, blue and white checked 'square dance' skirt, bright green socks and adidas running shoes.

These are the things I have to remember when my daughter crawls up beside me and she could peel paint off a bus with her foot odour. Or when my girls dress themselves and I have to fight the urge to hustle them upstairs and get them changed. Or when Delaney uses her shirt to wipe her face.

I am sorry this is all I can write today. The smell in here is killing me!

What can I say...they ARE my kids!

HAVING A BAD DAY CHIEF?

I started this morning off in a good mood. I was having a great day. I didn't sleep very well but still overall it wasn't bad. Then I was insulted AGAIN about my stupid wing sauce.

Once again my husband went to wing night last night. Once again I made the sauce. But this time he finished 10th out of 16. I didn't think that was so bad. After all it's only the second time I have ever made my own sauce. Apparently that wasn't good enough because I got a right slap in the face by one of the guys who was there. He told me I shouldn't make my husband's wing sauce. I explained that my husband doesn't know how to cook and doesn't know what he's doing (in the kitchen) lol! At this point he replies rather sharply "Neither do you" and laughs in a forced and short sort of manner.

It wasn't so much the obvious insult that bothered me it was the TONE in which it was delivered. From the moment I saw him I knew he was in a bad mood. I understood that, was gracious, kept conversation brief and didn't force his confidence. I was being sensible of his current state. For my trouble, he lashed out at me. Why? I don't know but he did, and it hurt.


At this point I was pissed. I responded "Well, we did better than last time and we didn't come last.". I managed to smile and keep my cool but when I got home that was another story entirely.

I understand we all have bad days and sometimes we direct our anger at the wrong person. My husband can testify that he has been victim to some of 'moods'. The only redemption I am afforded is that I do recognize my error and apologize. I also make every effort to control my tongue. It's not fair for my loved ones to suffer because I am suffering. So usually I segregate myself and avoid conversation to spare people's feelings.

So now a day that was once 'not so bad' has been changed by one person's careless remark. Normally I would either bottle this up, stuff it with food or turn into a pressure cooker and let the anger build. But not today. Today I am just going to FEEL and remember that tomorrow is another day full of potential. And if that doesn't work I am hitting the beach and I will tan my sorrows away.

GETTING 'SPAYED'

Last night I went to my vet to pick up my dog after being spayed. While waiting for the technician to bring out my dog I noticed an old friend exiting an exam room. Of course we started chatting about our pets. They had just gotten a new puppy and were bringing him in for his check up. I explained we were picking up our dog. We talked about past pets, current ones, how we wish we knew then what we know now...you get the picture.

It's at this point in the conversation that my old friend turns to me and asks "so when is YOUR puppy coming out?"

What do you mean? I thought to myself. What is he asking? Is he implying that I look PREGNANT? I knew I shouldn't have worn this shirt. It makes me look like I am hiding something OTHER than my 'fluffy' belly.

I couldn't believe I was finding myself in this situation. Not to say this hasn't happened before. I recall when I was in high school, 2 children in my neighbourhood approached me and asked me when my baby was coming out. I was only 170 pounds then. If they thought I was pregnant then, there is no wonder someone thinks that now.


All of us fluffy women have been in this dreaded situation. Although not everyone we meet feels the need to vocalize their curiousity about your growing girth. You notice the awkward glances and puzzled stares. You know what they are thinking and you cower at the thought of those dreaded words coming from their mouths "So...when is your due date?"

"Well I know when my period is DUE! Other than that I have no clue what you are talking about...hmph!!!"

Immediately my mind begins reeling in search of a way to get out this debacle while keeping my pride in tact and not making this extremely kind old friend feel bad for HIS (yes his) feaux pas? Do I say to him "Well unless I change species there will be no 'puppies' for me". Do I act wounded? Do I change subjects? I don't know. I am confused and embarassed and quite frankly, I am angry.

I know this person did not mean to insult me or hurt my feelings. I realize that it's an honest mistake and it can happen to anyone but STILL... I felt horrible not only for the implication but for feeling so ANGRY about it. Why was I making such a fuss? Why was I letting it hurt me? It's not like he called me fat or ignorant or, god forbid, a bad mother. He simply inquired when my PUPPY would be coming out. I suppose even the insinuation that I would birth puppies was hurting me as well. "What - so now I am a fat ugly dog?" This conversation was just spiraling into a very bad place.


After being flooded with all of these painful thoughts and emotions I reply to my friend with 'What puppy do you mean?'with a slightly 'irritated' tone.

He replies "I mean your puppy that is in the exam room with the vet".


O...M...G did I feel an idiot!!!

Now if I can stop laughing at myself for a second I will sum up my embarassment and say this...

Sometimes we can assume the worst when it comes to how people see us. Give people the benefit of the doubt before you jump to conlusions because they may surprise you. They may just value YOU for YOU and not how fluffy you THINK you are. In reality, it's usually our own inner critic that is the problem - not other people.

Lesson learned.

GIRL-GIRLS, GUY-GUYS, GUY-GIRLS & GIRL-GUYS

I am a guy-girl. What this means is that I am a girl but I am not very 'feminine' in the conventional sense. I am not meek or mild. I lack grace or finesse. I am also lacking certain delicate sensibilities that my girl-girl counterpart might possess. What does that mean for me? When I am in a setting with girl-girls I have trouble relating to them sometimes. I can't find any interest in talking about girly things like makeup or clothes. I once sat with a woman who talked for 30 minutes about a new sports bra she bought. Not too far into the conversation, I found myself grasping at the strings of consciousness as my mind drifted slowly into the abyss.

When I am with men I find it a bit tricky too. Men are used to girl-girls. They are comfortable around them and know what to expect. They can open doors, kill spiders and protect them from ne'er-do-wells lurking around dark corners. I am more of an 'I can dot it myself' type person. I don't need anyone to treat me like a delicate flower about to wilt at the slightest sign of trouble. When I engage in conversation I like to be treated as equal and I do the same for others. I don't concern myself with my femininity when I speak. I want to be considered a PERSON first and not a woman. Don't spare my delicate sensibilities and tip toe around me. I am a strong person. I am not an orchid.

I am also not very good at flirting. The whole batting the eyes thing and playing coy doesn't work so much for me. I prefer to be who I am and strike up a good conversation and see where it goes. Besides, I could have batted my eye right in my husband's face and he would never have noticed. I suppose for his sake it's a good thing I am not a girl-girl or we would not have made it to a first date.

It's not to say I don't respect my girl-girl friends. I have a few of them and I find them interesting to observe in public and around men but sometimes I find it difficult to relate to them. For me, it's like watching a movie like 'Legally Blonde' and all those sorority sisters are giggling and talking and carrying on. I just stand by eating popcorn and wonder 'What the hell are they talking about?' I appreciate the fact that my girl-girl friends have found a sense of 'sisterhood'. I just can't seem to understand it.

That being said, I have many guy-girl friends that I am completely comfortable with. They are strong independent women with minds and opinions. They are not afraid to take the world head on and make no apologies. They are proud of their inner strength, their abilities and their accomplishments and they don't play those down for anyone. I respect these women and I am proud to call them my friends.

Now for the guy-guys. My husband is a guy-guy to the core. He is strong and masculine. He is a woodworker and can fix stuff. He watches NASCAR. What more can I say. I don't know about killing spiders, and he doesn't hold the door for me, but that's because he knows I can do it myself. At times when a man holds the door for me or pays for dinner I feel diminished somehow. Like I need to be kept. If they are going through the door anyway - and just stop it from slamming in my face - that's a different story. But when he intentionally steps forward, puffs out his chest and swings open the door like a parade is about to march by...that's a little much.

Next is girl-guys. I have been known to be attracted to this variation quite often. They are usually intelligent, sensitive, great conversationalists and great friends. They are good at all things cerebral. But if you need something repaired - do not ask a girl-guy. He will simply pick up the yellow pages and 'call' someone to do the job for you.

I suppose that what I am saying is there are all sorts of feminine and masculine out there and we don't all need to fit into one particular category. Yes there are times when I wish I was more of a girl-girl. I wish I could be seen as ethereal and delicate and graceful but I know that will never happen. I also know that if I had to trade in who I am now to get that wish, I would not. I am proud of my strength regardless of who I may emasculate in the process (sorry boys).

So the next time I say or do something that is not very feminine just remember, I am not defined by my 'sex' but by my personality and my spirit. I don't wish to be judged based on criteria set out by an archaic patriarchal society that no longer holds credence in how women should behave. I am not just 'woman', I am me...YVONNE...hear me roar!