The Therapy Journals of the Fat-Headed Klingon Woman

One woman's journey to becoming Her True Self

C’s The Day April 5, 2016

Filed under: A-Z,Mood Swings,Weight Woes,Whatever — DDKlingonGirl @ 10:31 pm
Tags: , ,

Hello, all! I have technically failed the April writing challenges already, since I didn’t write yesterday. But you know what? We are not going to worry about that.  Not a thing we can do to turn back time, so might as well move forward from here. I was going to try to catch up by combining this entry into a C post AND a D post but I decided it was too late at night for that. My C topics are cats, candy, and crying.

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About the cats.  We have three. Yes, I know for most people that is three too many, but hey, I know someone who has NINE cats. Anyway, I don’t love them and I don’t necessarily hate them. I just hate the consequences of having them in my life. When the kids don’t clean out the litter box, my house smells. They have literally destroyed the carpet under every single door in this house by scratching to get into or out of rooms with shut doors.  And they have also destroyed my couch. I mean, granted, that thing is on its third owner. But it would still be in better shape if we didn’t have cats.

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Candy is just something there is no longer any of, left in my house. My family had their Easter celebrations late because my parents were out of town until this past weekend. My mom made baskets for everyone and there was quite a lot of candy to be had around here. This is, of course, a bad thing, because where there is candy, I will, of course, eat it. I have been engaging in a fierce battle with myself lately about eating and food and weight and self esteem, and I am losing that battle in spectacular fashion: I eat, I gain weight, I utterly loathe myself and everything about me.  This is a bad thing, and I know it. I know I am supposed to believe that people are beautiful no matter what size they are.  I am supposed to remember that sexy is an attitude. And I am supposed to know without a doubt that the most important part of any person is NOT what you see on the scale or in the mirror. I can’t do that and I don’t know why. I can’t believe or remember or know. I wish I could. I’m working on it.

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Which leads me to the final topic, crying. I have done a lot of that lately and I know it hasn’t done me a bit of good. I just have to throw off my pity party hat and throw on my “I have done this before and I can do it again” hat. Yes, it sucks royally to have to re-lose weight you have already lost once, to fight yet again a battle you have fought over and over before. I don’t know what the secret is, but if I figure it out, I will be sure to pass it on.

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And now, my C poem:

Catch me if you can

as I fall into a river of tears.

i shed them.

They come in a downpour

and rise high enough to sink ships.

My sunglasses sit on my face.

I’d like to think they hide my eyes

but really

they don’t.

my eyes are seen behind them

as the tears seep out from underneath.

Crying.

DD

4/5/16

11:25pm

 

Until next time,

D.

 

 

 

D Is For… Dark. REALLY Dark. April 4, 2014

Filed under: A-Z,Poetry and Fiction — DDKlingonGirl @ 11:03 am
Tags: , , ,

Hello all.  I am really busy today.  My employer is packing up and moving offices.  We are getting a lot of the packing done today and plan to actually move on Monday.  I started to call this post ‘D is For Deconstruction’ and ramble on about the move and the transition and all, but in the end, that topic is really not all that entertaining.  On the other hand, currently it’s just a little bit crazy around here, which is why I bring you the following A t0 Z Challenge post for the letter D.  Short and sweet.

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But first some backstory.  I am a poet.  As you can see at the top of the screen, there is a tab that says My Poetry and Fiction.  Unfortunately I haven’t posted any fiction there, no short stories or anything like that, although my Cruise Report is a really entertaining read if I do say so myself.  But I digress.  I am a poet.  I have written poetry since about 8th or 9th grade.  Writing poetry, like most creative endeavors, is somewhat cathartic for me, healing, cleansing, purging, etc.  I have been through a few dark periods in my life, and my poetry usually reflects that.  Also, I have a tendency to have mood swings that would give a person whiplash.  I won’t go so far as to say I have Bipolar Disorder, but I have felt that way at times, and many people have suggested to me that possibility.  So here is a very brief verse I wrote years ago, sometime when I was really struggling with the moody.

 

—”Suicide Note”—

Deep in a Dank, Dark, Dreary, and Damnable mood,

Depression & Despair Dive Deftly to the Depths of the soul.

Daylight Dawns. Depression does not Dwindle.

Despair Deems Death the Decisive and Definitive cure.

7-4-96—— 7:00 pm

 

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Disclaimer:  Not all my poetry is dark and brooding.  Some of it is, but much of it is joyous and/or sensual.  If you go check out that tab, you may think it’s good, you may think it’s crap, you may or may not think it fits your definition of poetry, but it’s mine and I enjoy it.  And further disclaimer:  I am now eons away from whatever crappy day made me write the above poem, so don’t anybody go turning me in to the Suicide Hotline.  Thanks!

Until next time,

D.

 

Some Thoughts From A Special Guest! April 29, 2013

Filed under: Whatever — DDKlingonGirl @ 4:24 pm
Tags: , , , ,
English: Scroll of the Psalms

English: Scroll of the Psalms (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Hello all!  I have something new for you today-  I have a guest writer.   Allow me to introduce you:

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Michelin Mama is her bloggy code name, and well, she’s a glimpse of Jesus on earth.  This is a woman who gave almost 32 years of service to her job, and now continues to give of herself in every possible sense.  Need your flower bed thinned out?  She’s there with a shovel, and when she’s done, she will haul the flowers and plants miles away to plant them at a Christian summer camp.  Need food made for a sick friend, a new mom, or a grieving family?  She’s on the doorstep with a full meal and a smile.  Need a ride somewhere?  She doesn’t just go across town, she’s been known to drive people on a 4-hour road trip to visit loved ones in prison.   In short, she’s a practicing saint.  She’s also my mom.  (Bet you figured that out.)  She’s a novice to blogging, but she comes complete with a lifetime of experience at seriously, contemplatively studying the Bible, loving the Lord, and showing her faith by her works.  What follows is a devotion she wrote on the subjects of depression and Divine comfort.

 

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Psalm 130: 1-8   Out of the depths I cry to you, Lord;  Lord, hear my voice. Let your ears be attentive  to my cry for mercy. 3 If you, Lord, kept a record of sins, Lord, who could stand? 4 But with you there is forgiveness, so that we can, with reverence, serve you.  5 I wait for the Lord, my whole being waits, and in his word I put my hope. 6 I wait for the Lord more than watchmen wait for the morning, more than watchmen wait for the morning7 Israel, put your hope in the Lord, for with the Lord is unfailing love and with him is full redemption.  8 He himself will redeem Israel  from all their sins.

Depression is often accompanied by an overwhelming sense of loneliness and self-loathing.  As we descend into the darkness of our pain, fear, or loss, we sometimes assume that our depression separates us from God.  We feel we have disappointed God and that He won’t have any more to do with us until we are “fixed.”  No.  According to this psalm, written by someone who had known the darkness of depression, God joins us in the darkness!  When you face depression, repeat the psalmist’s assurance to yourself:  God’s love is unfailing.

“More than sentries long for the dawn.” 

Anyone who has ever worked a midnight shift can understand this feeling.  Working at night in a factory, you are busy.  There are lights on and you can’t wait for your shift to be over.  But a sentry is alone on a quiet tower, peering into darkness.  It strains the eyes, it’s quiet…your eyes want to close so badly, but everyone’s safety depends on you.  Every snap or rustle startles you.  Is something out there?  Can’t you imagine how they long for the light:  Hurry, dawn!  We are tired of looking into darkness.

Verse 6:  “I long for the Lord more than sentries long for the dawn.”  Have you looked into the darkness of what is going on in your life and desperately longed to see what God had in mind?  To see His hand in all of it?

“Like a small child is quieted with its mother.”

Psalm 131:2 I have stilled and quieted myself, just as a small child is quieted with its mother.  Yes, like a small child is my soul within me.  Oh, Israel (author add:  Oh, Christian) put your hope in the Lord now and always.

Don’t you love how the Bible paints word pictures to put a point across?  Is this the acid test for truly following Christ?  Trusting the Lord?  Fighting depression?  If we only will, we can calm ourselves and imagine climbing up in our Father God’s lap and just feeling so relaxed and safe.

       Michelin Mama

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Isn’t that the truth?  No matter what age we attain, sometimes we just need the comfort of a loving embrace that speaks without words to our hearts and says, “You know what?  It’s all going to be ok.  You’re not alone.”  Whether from God Himself or from a parent, a sibling, a friend, or even on occasion, a stranger, comfort comes from the strength of the arms around us.  All we have to do is walk into them.

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Until next time,

D.

God’s Plan for Man

  • Hear:  Romans 10:17
  • Believe:  John 8:24
  • Repent:  Luke 13:3
  • Confess: Romans 10:10
  • Be Baptized:  Mark 16:16
  • Be Faithful:  Revelation 2:10

(credit: http://mclishchurchofchrist.com/ )

 

Short and Sweet Yet Again November 7, 2012

Filed under: Mood Swings — DDKlingonGirl @ 5:37 pm
Tags: , , ,
The Drowned, 1867

The Drowned, 1867 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Hello all.  It’s post-election day.  Like many other people in this country, it seems, I am absolutely drowning in depression today.  But not for the same reasons.  This is my forum, so I can say what I want here.  Unlike Facebook, if you read here, you’re doing it by choice, not because it just popped up in front of your face on your newsfeed.

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Someone among my friends once noted of me that I like to let people know when I’m down.  Yeah.  That’s called reaching out.  Between the concern for this country, the continuing battle with compulsive eating, the neverending struggle not to backslide on my weight loss efforts, the despair of wishing I could just not care about those last two and knowing I can’t, the struggles with faith, and parenting, and relationships, and the utter self-loathing it all engenders, I am in an ugly place today.  A very lonely, ugly place.

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So that’s it.  A few days ago I was soaring, and today I’m drowning.  It won’t last- it never does.  I just hate it when I’m down here.  With that said, I’m soldiering on, and my next entry will probably be another happybouncy ramble of goofiness…

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Until next time,

D.

 

Strutting and Fretting September 24, 2012

Corcovado jesus

Corcovado jesus (Photo credit: @Doug88888)

Hello all.

I’m typing this from memory.  Go ahead, be amazed.  (I can do the prologue to R&J too):

“The Queen, my Lord, is dead.”

“She should have died hereafter.  There would have been a time for such a word.  Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow creeps in its petty pace from day to day, down to the last syllable of recorded time.  And all our yesterdays have lighted fools the way to dusty death.  Out, out brief candle!  Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player who struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more.  It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.”

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This post will be nothing more than the satisfaction of my need to be writing and sharing my mood, which is dismal.  I’m circling the drain right now, folks.  Seriously.  Right this minute I am just heartsick.  There are so many reasons why, so many things, so many sadnesses and disappointments and stresses and worries and fears and dreads, none of which I can really share here.  I suppose it would make for much more real, honest, raw, gritty reading if I could, but I can’t find the words right now.

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Facebook.  Man, what a source of depression.  You’re sitting there looking at something that tells you you have 213 “friends” and you can’t think of one person you could really call and talk to, one real live “human bean”, as it were, who would listen to your litany of bummed-ness and understand and not say “your life is not really all that bad compared to (fill in the blank).  Suck it up, Buttercup.”  And really, who needs a friend to tell you that, when you tell yourself that every moment of every day?

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I know so many people who would tell me “Just pray about it!  Let go and let God!”  But for some reason, most times when I pray about things, I don’t feel any feedback coming my way.  I don’t feel any change in the situations or any peace in my heart about them.  I just feel like I’m shouting over the edge of a canyon and all I can hear is the echo of my own voice.  But then sometimes I pray and something happens the next day or the next hour or whenever, that convinces me Someone was listening.  That happens just often enough to keep me from giving up completely.

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I blame it on hormones, darn those rotten little things.  (The moodiness, not the echoing canyon phenomenon.)  A 5-7 lb water weight gain and a few days of utter despair every stinking month, and for what?  Fertility I never plan to use again.

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So anyway.  I’ll soldier on.  One does, you know.

Until next time,

D.

PS: Also typed from memory:  🙂

“Two households, both alike in dignity

In fair Verona where we lay our scene.

From ancient grudge break to new mutiny

where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.

From forth the fatal loins of these two foes,

a pair of star-crossed lovers take their life.

Whose misadventured, piteous overthrows,

doth with their death bury their parents’ strife.

The fearful passage of their death-marked love

and the continuance of their parents’ rage,

which but their children’s end, naught could remove

is now the two hours’ traffic of our stage.

The which, if you with patient ears attend,

what here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.”

 

Heartbreaking Beauty and the Chubbly Duckling October 12, 2011

Beauty is forever.

Image via Wikipedia

(Originally written last night- 10/11/11- 7:30 pm)

Hello all.  Right now I feel like going on a crying jag without the alcohol.  I feel emotionally, mentally, and physically exhausted.  Everything in my world feels heartbreaking today.  Or more accurately, I feel everything with a heartbreaking intensity.  I received the proofs for my twin daughters’ senior pictures.  I had to force myself not to cry.  They are heartbreakingly beautiful.  I need a new job and desperately want out of my current one.  I feel like an animal caught in a trap there, like I’d gnaw my own arm off to escape.  It’s not a bad job.  I like what I do.  I’m good at it.  I like my boss.  Except for the fact that I’ve been there nine years and the others have been there five, four, and three years, and we all make the same pay rate!  And there is no employee discipline.  And my previously mentioned (repeatedly) co-worker is still the most unpleasant part of my entire life at this point. 

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And finally (and this is going to sound weird) I am stunned at the beauty of the girls I exercise with.  I see these women at 5:30 a.m.  No makeup, sweaty faces, funky racer-back workout clothes with miniscule amounts of back fat hanging out of them, and I still think they’re all beautiful.  Then they come in where I work, in their office clothes, hair done, makeup and all, and I am blown away again by the beauty of these women.  I don’t just mean they’re pretty, which they are, but there’s this incredible inner beauty in them that just slaps you in the face whenever you are in their presence.  My middle sister is one of them.  She is the fittest person I know, and so heartbreakingly beautiful. (There’s that word again.)  I just feel so honored to be a part of their group, so blessed to have found this place to work out, where they have accepted me, the chubbly duckling, and embraced and inspired me.  They remind me, without words, why I am doing this.

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I wrote the above at my mother’s house last night, using, as I often have, that physical act of putting words on paper to purge the emotions I was feeling.  Between the photographic evidence of the relentless marching of time that has turned my precious baby girls into beautiful women, and my relatively new association with the amazing women I exercise with, and the conflict of desperately wanting to escape my job, while knowing that a) I am very much needed there, and b) starting over after a long involvement in anything is really difficult and scary and pretty much sucks, I was emotionally overwhelmed. 

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But as part of that re-committing I was talking about previously, I am definitely moving on from those feelings today, trying to see as much in myself as I see in others, and maybe working on defining some goals and dreams that will take me out of my current job situation and on to greater things. 

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Until next time,

D.

 

I Was Going to Give This a Different Title, But… February 14, 2011

Antalya ( Turkey ). Toilet seat used as flower...

Image via Wikipedia

Hello all!  … when I was almost finished preparing it for publication, I happened to notice that there were about a dozen other blog entries with similar titles already, so I had to go a different route.  As you (now cannot) can tell from today’s title, (Originally “Valentine, Schmalentine!”) this particular holiday is not my favorite.  That may be a slight understatement.  I HATE Valentine’s day!  It’s not just because I don’t have anyone to be all lovey-dovey-schloopy-mushy with at the moment, and it’s not that I have anything against chocolate.  Or flowers.  Or diamonds.  It’s just that it’s so commercialized.  Just like every other holiday, of course, but still… I think if you’re in a committed relationship where you are so thankful and appreciative and all the other wonderful descriptors they fill greeting cards with, then by golly, you should demonstrate it every single day!  Each and every day, you should express to the people you love exactly how much you love them, and not just with words.  Words are often easy to say and not so easy to MEAN.  Actions speak louder, as they say. 

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So in other words, you SHOW people how you feel and what they mean to you by what you do for them.  And not just in a ‘look, I’m sending you flowers at work so everybody knows somebody loves you and all the single losers* will get jealous’ kind of way.  It’s little things, like putting the toilet seat down, cleaning out the gutters (ok, that’s pretty big), getting supper started, loading the dishwasher, washing and servicing the car, or whatever. 

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I have to say here, that if I WERE in a relationship, or married, or whatever, I’m afraid my significant other would probably feel pretty unloved, because all I ever do anymore is read, mess around on the computer, and um… read.  I haven’t been doing a decent job of keeping the house clean or fixing lovely family meals or any of that stuff I’ve been ranting about for a year now.  I always have good intentions.  Oh yes.  I was going to make the whole family work on the garage yesterday.  The Beasties talked me into renting a movie, and my plan was to require that each one of us sort, organize, and empty one box from the garage before we watched the movie.  Well, not only did we NOT work on any boxes from the garage before we watched the stupid movie, we didn’t even work on any AFTER!  Be-cauuuuse… I was busy reading the book I bought from the same place we rented the movie from, and I couldn’t make myself quit reading!  What was this gripping piece of literature, you ask?  Oh, it was The Unofficial Guide to Cruises.  Remember, I’m still obsessed with the whole ‘taking the kids on a cruise’ idea.  Although even that has begun to lose its luster with me.  I’ve been reading too many message boards like CruiseMates and CruiseCritic, and there are a lot of negatives and a lot of complaints and just generally the whole thing sounds like a ridiculously expensive, huge disappointment waiting to happen.  But maybe it’s just my pessimistic nature kicking me in the teeth.  Or, again, perhaps it’s that I’m the Queen of Wishy-Washy.  Or maybe it’s just that I’m realizing the danger inherent in getting my heart set on all the details of something that is almost a year and a half away, and pretending to lose interest in the whole idea is my form of self preservation.  There is sooooo much stuff that could happen between now and then, stuff that interrupts life and turns it on its ear, stuff that makes all our plans go out the window and splat on the sidewalk.

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Not that I expect anything in particular to happen.  I’m just pessimistic like that.  On a totally new topic, I applied for a new job today.  On a whim, because I saw an opening posted in the store and thought I might be good at it.  It was for a Book Manager at Hastings.  I don’t know whether to hope I get it or not, because on one hand, I’ve been where I am for going on NINE years now.  I’m good at what I do, I’m familiar, I’m comfortable.  Sometimes, though, that might not be a good thing.  I can’t seem to make up my mind about teaching, although I have recently begun to re-entertain the idea of moving to Alaska to teach, like I planned before my short-lived marriage to RMB interrupted my Alaska fantasies. 

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Anyway.  The only real concern I have with getting a new job right now is with having to tell my brand new employers that I won’t be available for a week in late May/early June because we are going to Disney World.  They might question my commitment to my job.  But I guess they’d understand that these travel plans were made six months before I ever even thought of applying for that job, and if they don’t, The Macs will always take me back.  (The Macs- that’s my new nickname for the family I work for.)

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So I guess that’s where we are today.  We hate commercialized love-fests, we’re lazy and obsessed with far-away fantasies like cruises and teaching in Alaska, and we’re worried about issues with new jobs we just applied for online, ten minutes ago.  Thank goodness I have therapy tomorrow!

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Until next time,

D.

*PS- No, being single doesn’t automatically make you a loser, but DUDE!  That’s should totally be a Weird Al song, a parody of Beyonce’s All The Single Ladies, but it should be All the Single Losers!  It’d be a classic!  Al, are you listening!?

AND FINALLY… Happy Valentine’s Day to all my friends, family, devoted readers, and assorted others.  Hope your day is filled with one or more of the many different kinds of love that exist in every moment of every day.

 

 
The Therapy Journals of the Fat-Headed Klingon Woman

One woman's journey to becoming Her True Self

Shawn L. Bird

Original poetry, commentary, and fiction. All copyrights reserved.

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