Book of D: Defining the New Normal

꧄맏😠Since the fiasco that caused my career at the university to come to an end, I have had trouble sleeping. I have been a content creator and making thumbnails and editing videos for some YouTubers for a while now, and I guess I have taken the adage about "when in Rome" to heart. So . . . I have been staying up late watching YouTube and all its glory. At first, I was mostly watching the influencers that I had subscribed to for a long time; only watching on and off - during the day. But then, I started watching without cause or concern. I was watching incessantly, especially DIY channels. Then one night it hit me and I started wondering about the YT videos that cater to ASMR (autonomous sensory meridian response). As a counselor, I am well acquainted with ASMR, especially because I am an avid fan and believer of methods that deal with tapping and meridian points. I just never bought the idea of videos being able to calm and soothe people. I was wrong. The ASMR videos are awesome. I am following new channels that I might not have tried in the past except for the fact that they are listed on ASMR watch lists. I won't mention the channels, but they have actually somewhat helped me push away from the imposter syndrome and self-fulfilling prophecy theories that have been plaguing me for such a long time. I am replacing negative self-talk with positive self-talk and incorporating more of the self-affirmation theory in my daily life. I am trying to replace the screwed up pathogenic beliefs that were embedded in me from an early age and only grew in proportion to my age because of the people with whom I surrounded myself. I'm not casting aspersions; the ideologies and how I chose to allow to allow in my life during any given zeitgeist and epoch are partly of my own doing. I might not have known about or for sure not how pathogenic beliefs were negatively affecting me, but since majoring in psychology and earning a master's in clinical mental health counseling, I have seen the error of my ways. Sure, I still hold others accountable for any maltreatment of me, but I know I allowed much of it. Just like I gave too much power to my former employer and allowed the admin to walk all over me at times. Just like I gave too much power to my former lovers and allowed them to use and abuse me. Just like I am currently giving too much power to my stress and allowing myself to be depleted of melatonin. I can just see the cortisol levels laughing and doing a little jig as they slam my bloodstream. Okay, circle of control: I cannot control what others do or say, but I can control how I react to it. I just need to turn off all electronics by 9 pm and do my breathing techniques as I lay in bed. My new normal should not consist of negativity or for certain not streaming YouTube at 1 a.m. My new normal should only include positive things and people (that's on me). I need to seriously start studying for the National Counselor Examination (NCE). I'm all over the map, per se, but I'll get myself in line. I always have - I always will.

Book of D: Choices

Everything you do is a reflection of what you've decided is best for you at any given point in life. Everyone you ever loved is a reflection of what you deemed was important to you at that time in your life. The fact that you deeply care and guard things and people in your life is not a result of good or even bad decisions but a direct result of what you loved and needed at that specific time in your life. No one gets to decide what was right or wrong with your decisions but you!

Book of D: My Other Sister's Birthday

Well, well, well. My oldest sister, Aurora, celebrates her birthday today. I won't post her age. That would be rude. And, I ain't gonna be rude. LOL. She is my hero. There were times in my life as a teenager that I didn't think I was going to make it. I'm not just talking about getting through school, but with life in general. Thinking back, depression has always plagued me. I just didn't know what it was back then. I would often be riddled with bouts of melancholia, which was in and of itself bothersome. I thought I was weird. I hung back in the shadows and stayed away from big groups of people. It's safe to assume that a lot of my classmates thought I was rude or anti-social, but I didn't care. I was like Holden Caulfield in my favorite novel of all time: The Catcher in the Rye. I preferred not to get to know people and refrained from the sadness that losing them would cost me. Additionally, I like Holden's take on phony people: Phony people irk me to no avail, and I would prefer not associating with them. The art of knowing who to avoid has matured within my obstinate bones all these years. Sadly I must admit that there were years when my novice self did not know better than to socialize with certain people, and those relationships cost me dearly. Anyway, after this long-ass tangent, what I really want to say is "thank you" to my beautiful, badass sister, whom I also call "BSA" for Big Sis Aurora. Thank you, BSA, for saving my life so many times and for all the expenses you went through for me so that I could get stuff throughout school, for the prom, for my high school graduation, etc., for my love of math and reading, for my love of the Dallas Cowboys, and especially for allowing me to live with you after dad passed away and mama went to live elsewhere so she could recover from such a devastating loss. 

I love you so much, sis A. Love, BSD (Baby Sis Dora).

Book of D: My Sister's Birthday

My sister, Betty, has a birthday today. Tomorrow, our oldest sister, Aurora, celebrates hers. How cool is it for two sisters to celebrate birthdays just one day apart. I was kind of mad yesterday because the respective blankets I bought for each sister were going to cost more to ship (UPS) than what I actually paid for them. It sucked. The frugal side of me did not want to succumb and pay the exorbitant cost of shipping. Call me a cheapskate . . . it's whatevs! All I know is that I am extremely fortunate for each of my sisters. Each one is inherently different, but all of them are the same in how they love unconditionally. I think I am going to make a quick trip to my hometown of Big Spring this coming Friday to deliver the gifts (a.k.a. blankets) since I usually only work till noon on Fridays (thanks UT System). I hope my sister, Josie, who lives in Midland (same as I do), will be able to go with me to Big Spring - or maybe my niece, Alex (a.k.a. my child), will be able to get away from work and accompany me. If anything, I'll make the drive alone. I love driving; it helps takes the edge off. It helps me think about things and to sort through the muddle of life. It's a cathartic experience. Life is good, y'all!

Book of D: A New Direction

 So, it’s a long story. One I’m not really ready to write about right now. I haven’t really talked to anyone about it either – not even my own family (sisters). I have talked to my spouse about it, but I am not sure she really knows the full ins and outs of this debacle. I share half culpability for what has happened, well, maybe not half blame, maybe about 15 percent of the blame. Much like racism that lives in the hands of those in power, this issue also lays in the hands of those in power. I’m just the little guy, per se, trying to make sure my rights are not trampled on or dismissed. 

Stories by D: New Blog "HER"

Please feel free to read my new blog.

Where I will continue my preternatural, horror stories about "her".

  "HER"

Book of D: Sara's Mother

My spouse, Sara, wrote the passage below (in italics) about her mother. Her relationship with her mother has been estranged for years. In fact, they officially surpassed the halfway mark approximately ten years ago - in other words, since her days on this earth, my spouse has lived more years sans her mother in her life than with her in it. Actually, my wife made an interesting comment (as I wrote today's blog post) regarding the time her mother was in her life, "Was she really in my life, though?" ... "We didn't have a meaningful relationship  - not like a mother and daughter should."

I am saddened about my spouse's familial situation. It's a constant reminder to me to never forget how lucky I was to have had such an amazing mother. My mom accepted me for who I was. My mom adored my spouse very much. My spouse always says that my mom was more of a mother to her; my mom was the closest example of a mom to my wife.

Anyway, below is what my beautiful wife wrote about her mother back on April 22, 2023 following a positive session with her brilliant counselor. 

Mother

She didn't love me enough to be a better mother. I have since come to understand that there is no such thing as someone "loving you enough" to be better. People can only be as good as they are, no matter how much they love you. That's the bad news. The good news is that you have the power to hold their actions differently in your own mind and heart. You can choose to believe that your value is inherent, it's yours, and that the way your mother treated you says something about her, not you. Or you can choose to believe that your mother's neglect means that you are unlovable and worthless. As long as you keep that wound from closing, you'll be sore. 

Mother just didn't have the tools to navigate out of her own pain. She is a wounded child who had never developed beyond the emotional level of a teenager. That understanding freed me to start to be more forgiving toward myself, and to quit working so hard not to be my mother. 

Book of D: Hello My Onions - A Friendly Reminder About the Here and Now

"Hello my Onions!" Lol. I say this as if I had a massive group of followers. I wish. Or maybe not. 

It's been a while since I have posted. Lots of stuff goin' on, peeps. It's been like a spaghetti western: some good, tads of bad, and plenty of  ugly. First, I hurt my left arm / shoulder in May. I fell so hard and awkward that I not only hurt my humerus, which was not at all as the name might imply (i.o.w. - not humorous), but I managed to dislocate and tear other *stuff* including my rotator cuff. It's been 3 months, and the healing process has been slow. My left arm is actually shorter than my right arm now, which was not the case before my accident. HaHa.

Anyway, I had a few things on my mind that I wanted to share, but I'll keep it brief for now. Perhaps later this week or next, I will elaborate further. But for now, I'll just say that I have been antsy and avoiding living in the "here and now." Mirky mind and mucky thoughts. Whatever that bullshit even means. Yeah, Gestalt would be angry with me as he posited that living in the "here and now" helped increase one's self-awareness. Then, as uncanny as it was, this morning, I started watching a YT video (a channel I subscibe to), and the gentleman mentioned "being in the present." Wow, that's like the "here and now" . . . ! Semantics, ppl, it's all the same. This man was referring to the "present" in a theological manner and explained that G-d hands out joy in the "present" and if one does not enjoy it as such, he will never enjoy life and it will simply pass him by (paraphrased from Ecclesiastes 5:19). I'm not a religious person, but surprisingly, I did draw strength and comfort from this YT influencer's message. 

It is burdensome to me that I have not been living in the here or now - or in the present. Whichever manner, psychologically or religiously, that others opt to garner solace from  the act of "being present" or in the "here and now," for me, the psychological aspect of it reminds me to bask in today's ventures and to stop and smell the proverbial roses. It's also nice to be able to pass said message forward - as I was able to do with one of my sisters ealier, but that, too, is a topic for another day. 

Well, that's my personal dilemma lately: not being present in the here and now and worrying too far into the future. As if we humans have much control over life, let alone the future. And, as the saying goes: "we plan, G-d laughs." 

T.B.C. - I promise. *BTW, my apologies that my "Onion Gang" characters look like chickens 🤭. LOL.Their root heads/sprouts are difficult to draw sans A/P Photoshop. I'm out-of-pocket this weekend, spending time away from digital art programs. I'm having to somewhat resort to the O.G. hand to paper art🎨medium. But as I drew, I did remain in the "here and now!" That's progress, my onions!

Book of D: Un-Independence Day

Where did my country go? Yeah, it's a rhetorical question. As I sit here in my wonderful and recently renovated great room, watching one of those foreign flicks with subtitles that I adore beaucoup, it hits me hard that this country is never going to be free or independent for anyone  - especially not for minorities. The pondering of such things stemmed from an event that occurred just a few minutes ago. I logged onto a server that hosts a family thread between my niblings and myself. I was bidding everyone on the thread a pleasant night and asked if they had had a nice day. My nephew who lives in the south part of town said that the cops had been in his neighborhood about two hours earlier and made people who were setting off fireworks to discontinue doing so and to disperse into their respective homes. My nephew added that there were several police cars out there enforcing the firework's ban. I was kind of perplexed and ambiguity set in; conversely, I was kind of glad that the popo were doing their jobs because, as a concerned homeowner, it worries me that too many people ignore firework's bans and such. I didn't want my nephew's home to get caught in the middle of a careless fire. I was worried about my home, too, which is why I decided to run the sprinkler system. As I finished watering the front lawn and turned off the system, I received a text from my college friend who lives in the north side of town. She said that people in that neighborhood were still setting off fireworks. I told her about the police being at the south side of town enforcing the ban. She stupidly said something to the likes of 'well, that is a rough side of town and people there don't appreciate laws nor about taking care of their property.' She didn't know I have a nephew who lives on that side of town, but she soon learned that I did as I read her the riot act. She apologized. We ended the convo on a good note. But, I didn't pursue asking her for the favor I had wanted to interject with during the communication. Regardless of all the favors I've done for her, especially during grad school. 

It dawned on me that in the neighborhood where my spouse and I live, there were no police out enforcing bans or laws or whatever. I could hear way too many fireworks going off and never heard police sirens. But, this neighborhood isn't considered a bad part of town. Sure the homes are older, but most people take really good care of their respective homes (and lawns). Although my spouse and I once considered having a home built in the more prominent north part of town or just buying a turn-key one, we opted to remain where we are. We're only three blocks away from my sister and her family, which is cool during holidays, birthdays, or family game night. Plus, we have an understanding with our immediate neighbors, and although we're not chummy, we watch out for one another's property. I feel better living in this neighborhood because there is a mixture of people. The best part is there are no H.O.A. rules and fees. We've gradually renovated our awesome home throughout the years and are not far from paying off our mortgage. Moreover, we're in an area of town with a more mixed salad of races and ethnicities, per se. If we moved to the north side of town, we'd be living in an opulent area where H.O.A. fees are not just a setback but so are the people. If they're not white,  belligerently racist and ultra conservative, they're sycophantic minorities trying to fit in. Just like my friend who texted me earlier and foolishly stated that the cops are prejudiced against the south side because it's predominantly brown, black, and trashy. That friend, by the way, is Hispanic and her husband works in the oilfield industry. He's a roustabout with no college education who makes a six figure income. Yeup. Only in Midland! Anyway . . . Fuck the north side. Fuck the popo. But, mostly, fuck independence day in 'Merica.