The Therapy Journals of the Fat-Headed Klingon Woman

One woman's journey to becoming Her True Self

There’s Truth, and Then There’s TRUTH. October 20, 2010

Hello all.  Day 6 of 30 Days of Truth-ish.  Our topic for the day is Something You Hope You Never Have to Do.  The blogger I borrowed this idea from said she hoped never to have to bury her husband.  I can understand that, but if I had a husband, in a more significant way than just on paper as I do, I would so much rather enjoy a long, happy life together and eventually bury him if I had to, than lose him any other way, like to divorce.  I cannot and will not ever go through that again. 

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No, my “hope to never have to” is much worse to me than the thought of burying a husband, since I don’t have one; my answer is I hope I never have to bury another child.  Yes, I said ‘another.’  My first child was stillborn at 6 months’ gestation, and we went through the whole funeral experience.  I don’t mean to diminish it.  It was sad, and it was traumatizing, and it was painful and took time to get over, but I can say without hesitation, it would be unfathomably worse to have to say goodbye to one of the children I’ve raised and loved and enjoyed.  Baby K was more of an idea.  A possibility, a hope, a dream.  Daughter S, Daughter J, and The Boy are realities.  They are the reality that keeps me going every day.  They are the reason I am here.  They are the anchor that keeps me from drifting into insanity at times, and sometimes they are the wind that blows me there! 

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But the idea of this exercise is truth, and that is mine.  Of course, there are many other things I hope to never do in my life, like get bitten by a snake, or go to jail, or get hit by a train.  Those would pretty much suck.  And of course, there are the things I will inevitably have to do that are a part of life, like go to the funerals of my friends, relatives, and immediate family.  Not looking forward to that, really.  And there are things like getting cancer or some other debilitating or mind-destroying disease like Alzheimers.  Definitely don’t want to go through those. 

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But overall, I think the worst thing I could ever go through in life, the thing I hope to never, ever do, is to lose one of my children.  I have to say, though, that I’d be able to bear their loss a thousand times if they were children of God, if they were baptized into Christ or had not yet reached the age of accountability, than I could even once if they were lost.  That would be truly unbearable, because the truth of all truths is that heaven and hell are both real, and waiting. 

*

I realize this has been a total downer of a post.  And I don’t know if it would be better to end here and preserve the impact of my words or share a story that would ease the sadness and get a laugh.  So I think I’ll risk it and share the story, because it’s really quite amazing how uncouth some people are.  I guess this could fall under the category of today’s topic.  I hope to never in my life be this unthinking and inconsiderate of another person’s feelings:

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At work today, I was sharing with my obnoxious co-worker the story of why I was wearing the particular shirt I’m wearing today, which is a t-shirt with a picture of a monkey in a suit sitting at a computer, and reads “I ‘heart’ Monkey Business.” I wore the shirt because I just randomly picked it up and tried it on to see if it would fit and it did! I was celebrating because it was a 2X t-shirt instead of the 4 or 5 I used to wear!

So I’m telling co-worker all this and she asks me what size my work shirt is. (I used to work Saturdays only, so I have one uniform shirt that I wear occasionally, but usually I wear my own clothes with an apron bearing our logo.) So I tell her “Oh, I don’t know, probably about a 4” (meaning 4XL). And she looks and me and makes her eyes get big and says, and I’m not kidding here, “GOD, that’s huge!”

I just rolled my eyes and went on with what I was doing. I think she continued with some blather about “See, don’t you feel better? Won’t you be glad when you can wear a medium? You’re making progress!”

*

Yeah.  Progress in the area of not responding with the following snark:  “Pardon me, Ma’am.  Stupid Police.  I’m afraid I’m gonna have to run you in, ’cause you’re a complete idiot!”

*

Until next time,

D.

 

New Poetry is Up! August 25, 2010

Filed under: Mood Swings,Poetry and Fiction — DDKlingonGirl @ 10:13 am
Tags: , , , , , , ,

Hello all.  I finally managed to post a new selection of poetry.  You will find it in the poetry tab above under the ‘comments’ section.  Forgive the typos.  I hope you enjoy these.  Keep checking for the next selection, which will have elements of the best of my dark and light moments!

Thanks for reading!

Until next time,

D.

 

Have I Mentioned Lately How Much I Love Books? July 21, 2010

Hello all.  I got the idea to write another entry about books from a comment I left on Mighty Maggie’s blog.  (Humorous blog.  Never dull.  Go read her! Wait, finish me first!) I have written previously about the different books I’ve read and the books that are now movies, and the books I can’t help buying from Hastings.  But now!  Oh, now I have two classics to read that I’ve never gotten around to reading before, and I can’t wait to get more into them.

I borrowed them from baby sister.  As mentioned recently, she is an interior designer, so she has a lot of things on her shelves that are basically just meant to look good.  But her back room bookshelf is just where she keeps her books, and after she explained her system (books organized by genre and then by author) she was kind and trusting enough to let me borrow a couple of them!  I’m sure she had misgivings- as much as I love books, I’ll be the first to admit I’m not as careful with them as I could be.  They tend to get abused, a little.

In spite of her fears, she loaned me two books:  Vanity Fair and Mansfield Park.  I realize it’s hard to believe that as an English major I managed to graduate without reading either of these, but I did.  We could get into a whole long debate about canon and classics and so forth, but it’s enough to say that I did read a lot of other books in college, and I enjoyed reading them.  Except this one book Dr. Spencer assigned that I never DID get through, whose title escapes me now, but it was dreadfully boring, the first chapter or so that I actually read, so I gave up.  OH!  Tristram Shandy.  Lord in Heaven, but I struggled with that book!

Anyway.  I started reading Vanity Fair last night.  It was very difficult to get into at first, but I’m thinking it will get better.  I had told little sister she was going to get her books back this weekend when she brings Daughter S. home, but now I’m afraid she will not.  I won’t even be finished with VF, let alone MP.  I’ve been writing too much, so she’ll just have to wait. 

And speaking of writing.  I was looking through my poetry files yesterday, trying to find the poem I wrote for the last class reunion, to read it again at this class reunion, because I’m just an attention hound like that.  Anyway, I started finding all this work I’d written and while some of it makes me want to throw on a fake mustache and move to another country, some of it makes me just want to do a little victory dance and go “Damn, I’m good!”  I’ll put some of it on my poetry page soon.   I know I said a while back that I would be putting up a lot of new stuff on that page and none of it has materialized, but never fear.  This time I mean it. 

Hmm.  I started to talk about how posting poetry is so much more difficult for me because it’s generally much more personal and deeply felt than my blogging, but really it’s not that different.  My writing in this blog is personal and I often write about very deep feelings and hurts and fears, but somehow poetry seems different.  I have more apprehension about the critique of my poetry than my blog.  Many times, the Therapy Journals just feels like something I do, but the poetry is something I’ve given birth to- it’s part of me.  And much of it is written from my worst pain and deepest dark places, so it’s pure vulnerability scrawled across the page. 

Anyway.  I’ll pick out some particularly good ones and put them up as soon as I can.  And since I used that word, particularly, it reminded me of the new book I’d really like to read.  I’ve been seeing reviews for it in magazines, and mostly I just like the title.  But it’s called “The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake.”  It’s about this girl who realizes she has an ability to “taste” people’s emotions in the food they cook.  And through their emotions, she discovers all their secrets and all the things she never really wanted to know about anybody.  It sounds very intriguing.  If somebody really loves me, they can get me that book for my birthday.  It’s coming up in September, you know, but I’m trying not to think about it, because I’m turning 38 and that feels like Almost Dead!  I know, it’s ridiculous to be thinking like that, especially because one never knows when one might unexpectedly be dead.  38’s not that old.  That’s why I’m trying to learn to love life every day and every minute.  It’s a work in progress, but I’m getting there. 

Until next time,

D.

 

 
The Therapy Journals of the Fat-Headed Klingon Woman

One woman's journey to becoming Her True Self

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