Personal Insight

The other day, I suddenly realized just how far back, I had been unable to express anger until it was overwhelming.  My husband and my kids probably have no idea why I am that way.  When you are writing your memoirs, consider writing down what makes you the way you are. Your kids may not love you for it, but they may understand you.
My Mom is a very volatile person. She hits the roof over nothing and everything. She is one of those people who has to be “handled”.  Out in public, she can embarrass me in no time flat.  She knows what is inappropriate, but doesn’t care.

My Dad, on the other hand is a very dignified, mannerly person.  You would never know by his tone of voice or facial expression that anything ruffled him.

I remember my Mom not allowing us to get angry, because when we did, it escalated and prolonged hers.  It was as if she was the only one in our home allowed any drama.

If I got sent to my room for something, usually being a smart ass, if I stomped of closed the door too hard, my Dad would make me go back and return to my room and re-close the door repeatedly until he felt I had walked quietly enough and until my door made no sound whatsoever when I closed it.  He was basically forcing me to show no emotion at all and he was whether purposefully or not, telling me that I had no right to have any feelings concerning how others treated me or what they decided for me.

If I had not been a VERY strong person, imagine what a weak pushover I would be as an adult. I however determined that I WOULD control my destiny and if emotion was a sign of weakness, then I would learn not to show it.  You can stand in my face and tell me to go to hell and I will smile at you and ask you what you will be packing to take on our trip together.

My brother came out with my Mom’s attitude. If he wants to scream, yell, curse and throw things, he will.  He feels entitled to his anger.  The thing is, he’s right.

I have a very interesting family dynamic here, don’t I?

I long to be able to scream and holler and then go on with things. I just can’t shake the need to keep anyone from knowing they made me sweat.

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Good/Bad It’s All The Same

I don’t believe I will be taking many photos in the next few months. My Father has stomach cancer and my grandson suffered a head injury that required surgery and the courts have not yet established if it was accidental or not. I’m just not the type to take a camera to a hospital.

As far a journaling is concerned, whether it is good or bad, it is life and I will continue to try and write it down. If it does not help me now, maybe it will help me later, to recall memories.  I am literally praying that I am able to take some photos for Christmas this year.  My Mother was hospitalized in a diabetic coma and with a bad UTI last weekend at the same time my Dad was there and my Grandson was admitted.  I ended up being hospitalized Wednesday for Kidney stones and a bad kidney infection as a result, and was only allowed to come hom e as long as I’m able to keep my medicine down. I had been unable to keep anything down for 5 days, but with everything else going on, didn’t want to be stuck in the hospital. Mom almost had to go back to the hospital yesterday. Diabetes is hard to control when there is infection.

I figure that if I try to get some of it out, it will give people insight into who I am/was at a later date. How you respond to adversity, often tells a lot about you.

But for me or anyone else, journaling shouldn’t just be for the good stuff or what we consider to be the acceptable emotions.  It is not bad to be angry, sad, etc. it is only when we use our feelings as an excuse to behave in an unacceptable manner that we run into problems.

Bert And Ernie

Vladimir Nabokov, a Russian writer once said, A work of art has no importance whatever to society. It is only important to the individual. I find this hard to reconcile with the painting hung in a New York museum a few years ago, which depicted Bert and Ernie in a Sado-Masochistic pose.

Art means vastly different things to different people. What do you consider to be art? I find art in the beauty of nature. A drop of water hanging transfixed from the edge of an object in my yard is beautiful to me. Someone else might see a water on some rusty metal. When I see a sleeping child, I am mesmerized. The way a dog’s muscles move in perfect precision when it chases a ball, or an anatomy in general is awe inspiring. Leonardo Da Vinci saw it.

I am not overly impressed with abstract art. The closest I can come to enjoying it is when I look at some paintings obviously done by throwing or splattering paint on canvas. I am intrigued by what might have be the surface tension of the globs that caused them to burst in a specific way.

I recently saw a man on television who had started a Cloud Appreciation Society, and was surprised that other people could start blindly at clouds the way I do.

Find something beautiful and journal about it and maybe take some unusual photos.