Book of D: Ŧexas Ŧech

 Ŧexas Ŧech

Book of D: My Adult Accomplishments

In 2008, I was a district manager for a huge marketing / merchandising firm based out of Illinois. I was making $67,000 a year with stock options and nice yearly bonuses. I was managing over 120 employees in a district that circumvented a 500 mile range. The district spanned from west Texas, north including the entire Texas Panhandle just stopping short of the Tx / OK border, south as far as Del Rio over to Junction, east to Wichita Falls and Weatherford, west to El Paso/"El Chuco" (including Alpine, Marfa, and Presidio), and it included the entire state of New Mexico. I traveled the country training other district managers and regional managers, too. I even helped train a few execs in Troy, MI (suburb of Detroit) and would help the IT dept while learning to code. I was also awarded the District Manager of the Year. 

In 2009, for personal reasons, I semi-retired. I ventured into other careers. In 2011, I lost my beloved Mom / bestie to esophageal cancer and made a huge promise to her: I continued my college education because that's what I promised her. 

It's 2021 now, and I'm in grad school with the intention of becoming a counselor (LPC). I didn't begin this latest venture to allow anyone or anything to belittle everything I've ever accomplished nor to allow myself to be unappreciated for the myriad of badass things I've learned to do; nor to allow myself to be mistreated or disrespected. 

To those foolish/pithy enough to stand in my way, go ahead and try. I've lost so much in my lifetime, but I learned to survive. I've learned to crawl when my Achilles heal was torn apart. I learned to breathe when my heart failed me and my thyroid was removed. I learned to live after losing my Dad, Mom, and my nephew who was more like a son to me. I learned to begin a new career when my employer that once placed me on a pedestal turned on me because I placed my Mom's (and mine) health first and above their need for money. 

I have learned a lot out of life; moreover, I've learned compassion, love, and understanding. 

So, if others have a need to threaten me, stifle me, or overlook me, well, that's on them. They won't stop me.

I'm always on the lookout for new adventures and opportunities. I'm sometimes diffident, but never ignorant. I'll play the game as it requires, but I won't go beyond if the monies don't match it. I'll never succumb to inferiority, complacency, prejudice, narcissism, or hate. 

Book of D: I'm Back

I haven't posted in a while. Lots of things have happened. Life has been constant: it has been good, and as it goes, it has reminded us that often times it will be bad. Anyheow . . . I am back on campus working this week, so YAY. I was telecommuting for a long time -- that was great -- especially because I was paranoid of being around others, mostly due to so many people not taking Covid-19 seriously enough. But, that is totally beyond my control, all I can focus on is making sure I am taking the pandemic seriously and following CDC guidelines. Everything else will just fall into place -- good or bad. It's all out of my hands, and I have to learn to be okay with that.

Book of D: HER

...It happened again last night--right at 3 a.m. "Her" cries once again sent shivers up and down my spine. My cat was not in the great room with me this time to help justify what I was hearing; all I needed to help lend proof was for me to just listen and sit still. I was actually unable to move; frozen in time as if that would save me or hide me from this entity. I was too scared to be scared; if that makes sense. "Her" loud shrills of distress were all the proof I needed that I was not asleep. I was wide awake; I was experiencing her torment true to life. "Her" cries clearly enveloped a sort of torment that no one in this world should ever know.

Tonight, I find myself unable to sleep. I am once again in the great room reading one of my favorite books. It is just before 3 a.m., and I don't want to go to sleep and wake the rest of the family--because just as sure as I know the clock will strike that certain time of the morning, I know I will be awakened by "her" shrilling cries. I decide to take time to write all this down. I have the t.v. tuned to a channel that plays classical music. The kind I love to listen to when I study. I look around on occasion; something captures my attention high above the vaulted ceiling. It disappears. Maybe there was never anything there to begin with; who knows. I happen to notice the beautiful clock high above the wall that leads into the dining room; it's a family heirloom that I inherited from my late Mom. The clock is ticking rather loudly. Each tick reminds me that "her" cries are slowly progressing through the night. Soon the cries will reach me where I sit. Truth or dare I would play with the entity, but I am not so brave. I will stay up and listen. Perhaps my willingness to pay attention helps aid her in comfort somehow. I don't really know. It's just life happening as it sees fit for each of us humans; I guess life humors the lamented as well--that is if they ever lived in human form at all. The enigma continues. I'll write more later; I now have five minutes to prepare.

Book of D: My Brother's Obit, Rodolfo Dominguez, Jr., Big Spring, Texas

 

Book of D: My Brother Passed Away Today

Book of D: Mourning Mr. Felan

 Mourning. What does it really mean. According to the Oxford dictionary, mourning means sadness that you show and feel because someone has died. 

Okay. But, who gets to partake in it when a certain person dies? What are the rules? Are there any rules? What if you don't care about the rules!

My personal story relates to the father of my ex. He passed away at the end of May. His funeral was not publicly announced. I was not notified by my ex of her dad's death. His funeral took place just this past weekend (June 12th, 2021). I was more saddened than shocked that there was no public announcement of this wonderful man's death; there was no obituary posted – not even by the funeral home that tended to his funeral arrangements. The reason is not important. It is sad, but it is not for me or anyone else to judge. Every person, every family mourns and honors their departed in different ways.

The person who died was a true gentleman. He was all good things a person could ever want from a dad or a male role model. He was the closest thing I had to a dad when I was with my ex. He did not interfere in our lives, nor did he ever give unwanted advice. He lived a good life; walked the walk, per se, which was enough to inspire me to want to be the best person I could be. 

My ex's dad was a quiet person, but he had plenty to say when anyone gave him the chance to talk. His wife was a rather loud and narcissistic type who usually commanded all the attention to herself. She was not a bad person, but she definitely needed more attention than most, and her advice was almost always out-of-line and unwanted. But, the dad, he was different. He was diffident, unpresuming, and cordial. 

I found out that this gentle soul passed away by my ex's brother via social media. Her brother and I did not purposely seek one another out on social media. The fact that his personal and political views mimic mine almost to the tee is the reason he and I connected. We both belonged to the same political and social groups, so we ended up getting fb friend suggestions. One could say it was serendipitous; I say it was serendipitous, too, with a hint of karma. I have always liked my ex's brother. When I met him, I thought he was kind, smart, funny, a good cook, and that he had good taste in music. His wife was equally blessed with those kind attributes. My ex's brother seems to have remained all those things to this day, and the fact that we share the same politics and moral views is why I "get" (understand) him. I really looked up to him back in the day, but I never admitted the way I felt about him to my ex because I did not like revealing too much about my feelings back then. I always felt odd and out-of-place around her family, so for me to profess my like of her family meant (to me at that time) that I was disrespecting my own family who lived some 300 miles away. And boy did I miss my family something fierce. I don't think my ex realized how much I loved and missed my family. Now that I think about it and have had extensive training and instruction in college (now grad school) about psychology and the human psyche, I believe I was a victim of pathogenic beliefs. 

Anyway, I did not attend the gentleman's funeral, but I did mourn him. I remained as respectful as possible and stayed away from my ex and her mom because my ex is the one who perpetuated the 'cutting of ties' with me years ago (e.g. social media). Her mom did the same: blocked me on social media. I am not sure why they both blocked me, but it doesn't matter, and it doesn't take a brick building to fall on me for me to acknowledge that I should respect their decision to cut off ties with me, especially now as they mourned their loved one. I decided to just remain silent. I did however extend my condolences to my ex's brother and that was enough. I did not share stories (well, maybe one) with my ex's brother regarding how their late father helped me out so much back in the day, but it was/is enough for me to remember him (the dad) and his generosity. 

I drew this picture and shared it with my ex's brother. This is how I will remember their dad. Thank you, Mr. E. L. Felan, for your kindness, respect, and tutelage. You will be missed but always remembered.

I wrote the following to my ex's brother on his Insta; it made me feel better:

... "The quiet one is left with after everyone has returned to their respective homes is ambiguous – at best. It’s a cruel reminder that life goes on even after we have lost a truly magnanimous person in our life. The quiet is loud, the emptiness left by our departed loved one is onerous, and no matter how many people are in our midst, we still find ourselves ever so lonely. But, with time, things do get better; however, it is a reckoning, per se, that only you get to decide upon: you decide how you will grieve and for how long. Always keep remembering and talking about your dad. Wonderful people like him deserve to be remembered and honored – always. Your dad is proud of the loving, sublime person you are and of the extra care you took to make sure he was tended to and respected. Praying and thinking of you and yours."

Book of D: The Madness of Regret

  Only the mind of man looks back

- the rest of creation never does.

 

Book of D: Final Year of Graduate Mental Health Counseling Program

 The Master's in Counseling! It is the terminal degree for counseling, so obviously it involves more intense training which deems that it takes a lengthier amount of time to complete. While most other non-counseling students are finishing up their respective master's programs in a regular 2-year span (if they are fulltime, that is), we counseling students are patiently and painstakingly just trying to make it out of our own 3-year program unscathed. All the students in my particular graduating class, including myself, have taken and passed the Comprehensive Counselor Examination (CCE), which is a requirement in order to graduate with a master's degree in counseling. We are currently finishing up our practicum semester, which includes counseling clients in the University student counseling center under strict scrutiny and watch by respective LPC supervisors and keeping confidential records and such. So, as we struggle through PRAC  – while still making sure all our ACA / CACREP mandated paperwork and 100 clinical hours are met and properly recorded, we are also faced with vying with several other counseling students in the area/state to obtain internships. Internships that have in previous years been reserved for students enrolled at our University, but for some reason, was not done for our group/class. We are all running around like "chickens with their heads cut off" because no one, and I mean NO ONE, is watching out for us. We are all alone in our venture to find a place that we can intern at. I am the only student in this class thus far who has managed to get an internship placement, but our direct supervisor, who also serves as both counseling program advisor and department chair, has not approved that arrangement for me nor has she discussed with any of us whether we are going to be allowed to move into internship or repeat practicum. So, this is where my dilemma of late therein lies: I do not know where the next few months will take me. I am so stressed, and my anxiety level is so high that the puck has broken through the sledgehammer-high-striker game. My cortisol levels are probably going to make my endocrinologist lecture me about relaxing and watching out for possible health issues brought on by that nagging stress hormone. Something's gotta give – and soon. Well, that is that regarding what I am hoping is my third and final year of grad school. This gal's not getting any younger – but I am also not giving up any time soon. I have worked much too hard and long for the grand prize: to be "hooded" sometime in the near future. Knock wood, y'all.

Book of D: Hooding Ceremony in the Caricature Realm

 Coming soon . . .

Book of D: My Dominguez Family in the Caricature Realm