Sunday, June 12, 2011

Week before graduation

 If you look at the above photo, this is very typical looks we give each other when we are together.  
 Two very good looking kids.  I love them to death.
Boo getting ready for prom.  She was so lovely. (as Stevie Wonder would say)

I am down in VB for the week of graduation.  I so remember what I was doing this week, 21 years ago... stressing. Mom was focused on college, I was focused on finding the nearest sand pile and vegging with a good book and tunes.  I am so proud of the kids for successfully graduating and beginning their lives as adults.  Kels is going to be enjoying her time she has left before Mommie hood kicks in and John is cooking away thinking of ways to get into culinary school...  I am so proud of both of them.  I love them with all my heart.  I am truly a blessed mom to have such great kids.

Thursday, May 19, 2011

I feel I am surrounded by idiots in class

Do you think that your lack of self-confidence in the human race is reflected to those who are around you?  For me, I know I can't stand a whiner or crier or the pity me person.  While I will listen to them, I find that they don't lack the motivation to pull themselves out of a funk.  My good friend recently went through a bad spell with her boyfriend.  All I heard was how he was was this or that.  As a friend I listened, but the psychologist side of me was questioning where is her motivation to do something about it?  I get to the point that those who are negative or constantly find negative things to say to me find themselves alone.  I will focus on the positive and even though we slip from time to time, we need to be motivated about something.  

 A fellow student!
I think my lack of self confidence in the human race is not reflected to those around me because I do not associate with people who bring negativity in my life or people in my circle. Even though I tolerate, like you stated about your friend how you just listened, to a whiner, but I do voice my opinion afterward and dont let their situation affect my happiness. I especially, do not pity people under any circumstance because there are reasons for their doing, they made the choices, and they have to deal with it at the end of the day. I just try to stay focused on my life and those around me that stay positive because positive energy is what builds one's confidence, less of periodic depression stages, and enjoy it to the fullest potential possible.

Very interesting that you bring up the fact that you stay away from the negativity. In your bio, you say you are going to be a criminal psychologist aiding law enforcement in a better understanding of why the criminals do the things they do, very noble by the way. Criminals are very negative and will profess their incense until their death. How will you stay motivated to get up every day knowing that you are going to face 8 to 12 hours of negativity and still want to do that job? Do you have a way to purge out the negative things you encounter? I am following the same line of work, forensic psychologist, and sometimes the Jeffery Dahmers, and the John Wayne Gacy's introduce negativity in to my life, but as I finish the book or article or movie, I am more motivated to find

the fellow student
To stay motivated to get up every day knowing that I am going to face 8-12 hours of negativity and still want to do that job will be difficult probably. Having motivation to just listen and take in everything that is said, and try to handle things in a proper manner will be a struggle until I get adjusted to it. Although, as long as I stay focused, keep a positive attitude, and remain patient, I will be okay unless, something otherwise happens. Seeing I have never encountered this type of work or any person of that sort, I think it will be challenging in the beginning, yet I can adjust to it. If I feel that I can maintain it or work any longer in that field, I won't give up in general, but choose something in the same vicinity, probably.

So in other words you have no plan of action on how to keep the negativity out of  your everyday life. ~ Smart thinkin Lincoln.  

The years I dubbed the 9 years of hell

Life went on seemingly normal for me after Dad died.  I had to get up and go to school Monday through Friday, church on Wednesday, Sunday, and Sunday evening.  That was mandatory unless you had the flu and well as fate would have it I never was sick enough to have the flu.
Mom became more controlling the older I got.  I didn't see it then but as I write this blog I notice it now.  I couldn't have sleep overs not because the house was dirty, but because I refused to subject anyone to my mother that wasn't family.  I looked to refuge with my Aunt Shirley and Uncle Terry because for once I was able to be the small semblance of the girl I was when Dad was around.  Mom seemed to put on a new hat when we'd visit them or her father for that matter.  I would go to Grandaddy's and leave at 9 and not come home till 7 or 8.  I loved it.  She didn't drink too much when we were there so it was hard for me to have them see what it was like every day at home.
Mom seemed to shut down when Dad died.  Maybe because she didn't know what to do.  She had a responsibility that she thought that she was going to be able to ease into only to be shoved and that made her angry.  She may have become angry with Dad or God or various other things and people because now she had to do it alone.  She once told me that she loved Dad, but if she did, why did they argue like they did?  I guess answers I never will get now.
I turned 18 and graduated in June.  I was mandated by my mother to attend some horrible college in this hick town in Georgia.  No offense but I had my own plans where I wanted to go and what I wanted and Georgia was not in my plans.  Tallahassee Community College then from there FSU.  Little did I know...  Here again the small girl from FLA that had no clue I could do things on my own at this point, but I learned and learned quick.  I went to Cuthbert Ga for a month purposely flunked out or got kicked out and came home.  Then the mischief began.  I learned that she couldn't tell me what to do any more.  After a year at the oceanfront I decided it was Cyndee's turn! (here again was a stab in the wound of ol' Fay because I went by Cyndee).  She hated me for that and to this day her and I think my 2 cousins call me Cynthia.  Life began as Me on January 29, 1992 or so I thought.

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

The Parental Units~ AKA Mom and Dad

Dad was born in 29, in Louisiana.  Ran crazy at LSU after graduating got thrown out and finally graduated after a stint in the US Navy (nothing to spectacular... mail clerk if I remember correctly) he graduated from Centnary College in Shreveport.  He became one of the top salesmen of IBM in the mid 50's and stayed there until he retired in 1980.
Mom was born in 34, in Georgia.  She made honor roll graduated top of her class in high school and went on to UGA where she pledged and graduated in 56.
Dad met Mom in 1962 through a mutual friend in the IBM office in Atlanta where Dad would come from DC to have meetings and Mom was a secretary.  In 1963, they married and by 1965 moved to Jacksonville, Florida.  They fell in love with a brick ranch in an upper middle class neighborhood called Grove Park.  I sprang along in February of 71 and that was all it took. Daddy had his princess.
Things went along fairly well from 73-77 (can't remember much before 73 as I was only 2) but I remember mowing the lawn with dad and begging him to play wiffle golf with me after he finished.  I had this big wheel I'd chase after him on if he was edging the sidewalks.  Then there was the Gold Cadillac.  I didn't care if we were just going around the block, I had to ride in the Cadi... (I see my taste in fine cars has not faltered).  I loved that thing.  I'd go sailing from one side of the car to the other depending on how silly I was being at the time.  The older I got the more I saw things really weren't perfect.
Dad's drinking became more and more profound, Mom's hatred became more noticeable to the point it was violent.  And times I was caught in the middle.  Mom would yell at Dad, Dad would jump in the family sedan (yep the gold cadi) and me in tow head to the ABC store for a dry vodka martini, or if it were a really bad night, bourbon and coke.  I never knew what he was doing was saving me, and putting me in harms way at the same time.  We'd get back late because Dad would just go to his office downtown or his own business later after he retired.
Mom would yell and scream for hours after we returned because I should have been able to go, or I was out too late for a school night... there seemed to always be an excuse why I wasn't allowed to be with my dad.  God for bid should I want to escape too.
In 1981 Dad couldn't do it any more.  I was 10 at the time and I knew what was going on. I knew how bad things were and could see dad not coming home because he didn't want to deal with her but that left me with her at the same time.  Time for the dreaded    D-I-V-O-R-C-E.  Oh well, that wasn't that bad, I still would have either parent just alternating weekends right? WRONG! OH how brutally wrong this would be.  The manipulating and the pulling on my emotional strings began.
Mom got custody first (oh fun)  Don't get me wrong I love her but she was so verbally abusive to the point that I ignored my own mother.  I began resenting who she was because of who she made me think  I was.  The anger continued to mount week after week until I would visit the judge and say I want my Dad.  Finally I thought my wish.  I am going to show them I can be a straight A student, I am going to keep the house clean, cook for Dad and me it will be great.  Nope, no such luck.
Dad went into the hospital on September 13, a week after I began my school.  He told me it was nothing he would be home in a couple of days and we would be golfing by the weekend.  Dad had exploratory surgery on Wednesday and was gone by Sunday.  Sunday the 19th of September 1982 was the day my life ended.
We all say that we are expected to bury our parents but never our children, well I think there needs to be an additional statement added to that which should be as follows
We are expected to bury our parents not our children, but a child should never have to unwillingly bury her parent.  I could accept an accident, I could accept knowing he was going to die, but thinking that I was going to be able to see him again and never doing so will be something even at 40 I will forgive or forget.
My thoughts were who's going to walk me down the isle when I get married?  Who will stand at my graduation 7 years from now and be yelling at the top of their lungs because I graduated?  Who will ship me off to FSU to earn my degree as an OBGYN (such silly ambitions an 11 year old had)?  Who is going to teach me how to drive?  The answer to that question was ME.
After the family left Mom and I the week following, my hell began. I learned in a matter of 7 days that I now had to take care of myself, teach myself, and love me.  What big responsibilities for a child to hold at that age.

So, the psych major is going to do some psychology

So, The doc( okay several years from now the doc is in) is in.  I have always been told that writing is therapeutic. Well phuah! I say a stiff drink prop your feet up and tell Dr. Morris all about it.  
So who do I go to vent, yell or otherwise feel like I want to bash.  Here I guess.  

I have been in therapy for 2 years now and I feel differently but I see myself psychoanalyzing everything (part of my job).  Last year the therapist says you have PTSD I responded with I have what, my thoughts went to by best friend who served our country during the Vietnam War, now that was PTSD!  How can I have PTSD?  And she began the defining of PTSD.  

Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is an anxiety problem that develops in some people after extremely traumatic events, such as combat, crime, an accident or natural disaster (APA, 2011).  What trauma have I had, oh gee lets see... my dad dying, my mother becoming the biggest alcoholic, my marriage falling apart, my x leaving me for a 12 year old. Guess so.  And the journey begins.  These next few blogs may help me close chapters and finish books that need to be closed.

My son will be talked about, my mother will be discussed, Dad will be honored, and my life will begin a new book titled approperetly, the doctor is in.  

Enjoy, read, comment and reflect.  Life is a journey and as an old friend once said its all about how you live your life because no one promises you tomorrow.  Live as if you were dying. ~ Tim McGraw.