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Sorry State Of Affairs

Do you ever just get in one of those moods? I haven’t felt like myself all day today, just kinda achy and stressed and I feel just really really tired. So after I finally clocked out (thank goodness because I was at the point of wanting to reach through my computer and rip somebody’s face off) and moved all of that paraphernalia off of my bed (which is where I work), I went and helped out with the dinner that my honey was preparing. So scarfing down a couple of soft tacos and washing it down with a beer, I then took care of the leftovers, (and by taking care of, I actually mean throwing everything into one bowl for a pseudo taco salad for lunch tomorrow) while he loaded up the dishwasher. Then I disappeared into the bedroom (nothing new there) and found a movie on cable that I never intended to watch while I caught up on my social media. Still feeling crappy, the tension tight between my shoulder blades and my lower back hurting from all of the ungodly positions I kept squirming into all day trying to get comfortable while I was doing my telemarketing thing, I decided to take a hot shower, letting the water beat on me for a while and hopefully relieving some of the ache. Pop Evil is blaring on my Spotify, (rocking out is my usual go to stress reliever), which signals to those that know me that I’m in a mood and today’s mood being that I’m miserable and I keep swinging between abject despair and a silent seething rage. Now I’ve found that it’s hard to get a good grip on either of these emotions with one counterbalancing the other, not able to plumb the full depths of sadness that will result in a good cry and feeling better, not able to quench the rage by lashing out and dispelling the bitter adrenaline. It’s a sorry state of affairs that I find myself in. So there’s nothing else to do but call it a night (aka tossing and turning in bed) and hope that the morning will bring a miraculous change of spirit.

Lacey ☮

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God Got Me!

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We all go through rough patches in life, we have accidents, heartache and mayhem and I know that I’ve certainly had my share, but my most used and favorite saying is “God got me” because I sincerely believe this with my whole heart. Now I work and struggle and run around, trying as hard as I can to do the best that I can because I believe He expects me to. You can’t just sit on your butt and expect to be spoon fed like a toddler, you have to get out there and try! You do your best and He’ll take care of the rest. So every time I run into that wall or am confused about which path to take, there He is, giving me a gentle nudge that gets me going in the right direction. The key to this though is to trust and to listen. You have to trust that God will always catch you and listen to that little voice inside because mostly He only whispers. I give Him credit for all of my best ideas and I’m certainly grateful for every time He just reached right out and saved me, because these times have been numerous. By all accounts, I should no longer be walking this earth, but here I am, still going strong! FAITH, I have faith in my Father and no fear, only gratitude and love. Why should a child be afraid of their father? No reason! I try to make Him happy because I want to make Him proud of me, not because I’m afraid of anything. Sometimes I wish that I could just share all of the thoughts and knowledge that I have using a vulcan mind meld, (yep I was a trekkie) so people could understand exactly why I feel the way that I do, because the way I feel inside is liberating! I am loved! I am safe! Someone wants the best for me and helps me in every way imaginable. I’ve been broken and trampled, but He always lifts me up and puts me back together. I’ve been lost and confused, but He always guides me out of the darkness. I never say “God why are you doing this to me?” because He didn’t do anything to me, someone or something else did and He loves me enough to stroke my fevered brow and make me whole again. God got me! Even with all my shortcomings and weaknesses, He still has my back, the best friend I ever had. God has you too, just trust Him enough to listen…

Lacey ☮

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Feel Safe

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If it makes you feel safe, then do it. It doesn’t matter who laughs at you or who looks at you disdainfully, if it helps you to find inner peace, then just do it. I have a thing where I “secure the perimeter” every night before I go to bed. I check every door to make sure they’re locked and all the lights are out except for some little shine peeking out from
somewhere in every room that I have an occasion to walk through. If there are people in my home overnight (even my mom), I have to have my bedroom door shut, I still hear every sound, but not as intense. I’m the last one to go to sleep because I listen for the quiet, making sure that no one goes behind me and undoes any of my nightly “work”. When we go out, I don’t sit with my back to the door and I carry my purse and jacket with me everywhere. I always lock my car, no exceptions, every time I park it. These are some of the things that make me feel safe and I do these things religiously because it puts my mind at ease and I can relax and focus on other things. It helps me to have a normal life. You deserve as normal a life as you can possibly have as well. If it brings you peace of mind then do it. Don’t let anxiety take away precious moments if it can be prevented. Do you need that particular pillow or fuzzy blanket to get a good night’s sleep? Then by all means, have it, even if you’re staying overnight somewhere and it perhaps makes someone raise an eyebrow. You can’t resist the urge to check 2 or 3 (dozen) times that the door is actually locked when you go out? Then rattle that knob baby! And then go on and enjoy your outing with an easy mind. The point being, everyone is different and everybody has their own little quirks, some are just more apparent than others. You deserve as good a life as you can possibly live, without apologies, without shame or guilt, full of happiness and blessed peace. <3

Lacey ☮

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It’s Raining Mensa…

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“There’s a fine line between genius and insanity…” – Oscar Levant

Psychologists have discovered that creative people have a gene in common (called neuregulin 1) which is also linked to psychosis and depression. I’ve always loved this quote and wholeheartedly believed it to be true, now scientists are providing proof! I found this interesting and wanted to share because I think this applies to a lot of people, probably some that you yourself know, maybe even you!
When I was in grade school, I already had the IQ of an adult, when I got older older, it was at a steady 136-137, just short of the required 140 for Mensa, a group I desperately wanted to be a part of. Why you ask? A couple of different reasons really. The main one being because I know I’m extremely intelligent, but nobody seems to want to take me seriously because… I have a southern accent? I don’t have a slew of degrees? I’m female and put being a mother first? I really don’t know why someone would look down on me, just assume that I lack in the cerebrum area, but I run into it a lot and it really ticks me off! I don’t want to continually justify what rattles around in my noggin, while others are treated like gold drips off their tongue every time they open their mouth, so it would be a much desired affirmation for me. The other reason was purely selfish, I WANTED IN! I became like a dog with a bone, testing my IQ over and over again because I wanted to belong with this elite group of individuals, be accepted into something special, I guess kind of like wanting to pledge to a sorority. I still want it, but I’ve accepted that I’m just not Mensa material and I’ve stopped trying, (I never took the official Mensa test because you only get one shot at it), but now on the other side of the coin, I truly enjoy my quirkiness. I make people laugh and think and feel something deep down inside. All my life I’ve heard “You’re weird, you’re crazy” and my all time favorite, “You just ain’t right!” I like that I’m different, that I’m truly an individual with divergent ideas. People need to realize that different isn’t bad, it isn’t wrong, it’s just, well, different! One of my favorite sayings is “If we were all the same, what a boring world this would be!” and I’m anything but dull, (unless I’m on my best behavior and not being the real me, now THAT’S boring). I have bad days, when it’s hard to live inside of my own skin, like when I get really tired and my thoughts get wonky. My mind doesn’t say sleep, it says give up, give in, just let go and this isn’t mentally or emotionally healthy, but I slog my way through it and eventually it does get better. Sleep, water (I consume way too much caffeine in lieu of this) and positive mental stimulation helps tremendously. Anger is a great motivator, but it burns up your reserves too quickly and then you crash, HARD, it’s kind of like a sugar rush. If you ever find me just sitting in the shower until the water runs cold, then you know that something isn’t right in my inner world. I don’t know why being pelted with a continual deluge of warm spray helps, but it does, it makes me feel a little better. So anyway, the next time someone tells you that you’re different or odd, say “Thank you!” and know that you’re probably 10x smarter than they are!

Lacey ☮

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Stubborn Old Ladies

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So day before yesterday, about 7 in the evening, my mom started blowing up my cell phone. I had volunteered to work over so I just kept cutting off the ringer, but her face continued to dance across my screen over and over. Groaning inside, wondering who had died because of her persistence, I delayed calling her back until after I had clocked out and wolfed down a little dinner (it was after 8pm after all and I was starving!). So finally I called her back, it wasn’t Mom that answered, it was my stepdad, my mom had had a heart attack. It hit me a lot harder than I had ever imagined it would, I’ve pretty much become numb to death now, but the reality of the possibility was to say the least, unsettling. She had refused to stay in the hospital so she was home, sitting in her worn out overstuffed old lady chair, huddled under blankets, very much alive. I talked to her for only a few minutes, which was a red flag right there that she didn’t feel well and you would know that if you have EVER had the opportunity to chat with her. I called her again yesterday after work to check up on her and she sounded like her old chipper self again, sitting in front of the TV, munching on a cookie. Yay! But then another groan, she kept me on the phone for almost an hour, hence why I try to avoid her calls and limit our conversation to only once a week or so. I keep telling her she needs to learn how to text, she’d hear more from all of my brood, but she’s old fashioned I guess (But Mom, nobody TALKS anymore). So anyway, at least I know where I get my stubbornness from, I’ve had to sign that little paper before myself, the one that says you agree not to sue if you die because you ditched the hospital before they wanted you to. Mom said she had a mild heart attack, what the heck is a “mild” attack?! Your heart turns on you and causes serious problems, how can you ever conceivably call this mild? Not her first, but let’s hope her last. She said, “I may not make it through the night”, so I told her that she would positively outlive us all, but she had better keep her butt right there in that chair! She’s no spring chicken definitely, but I’ve gotten quite used to having her around, always there hovering somewhere in the background. She loves me, one of the few people in my life that I know for a fact will always love me and I love her, as crazy as she can make me sometimes and that’s probably the exact same thing my kids say about me! There’s not many of us left anymore. I tease my son and tell him that if he doesn’t have his own son one day, our family name dies with him, but no pressure! Of course I hope he waits for quite a while before he procreates, he’s only 22 and still not settled into life, but it is the truth, he is the last hope, it’s a little sad really, but I haven’t given up. There’s always a tomorrow for us all, even stubborn old ladies!

Lacey ☮

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One Day

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So in a rare moment of feeling sociable,  I agreed to help out someone and let them ask me some questions for their psychology class, no big deal, and it really wasn’t, but I did start it with a warning “Don’t ask me a direct question unless you really want a truthful answer.” You see I’ve managed to irritate quite a few people in my life by not issuing this disclaimer beforehand. So anyway, one of the questions was “What do you do that you find joy in?” I thought about it, I thought hard, digging around in my recent memories of my day to day life and my answer was… nothing. I have this website and I play a little Xbox before I go to bed and the Xbox has become more of a habit I think, something to distract me for a little while, because it’s not really fun anymore. I do enjoy my blog, but only to a point. I have great ideas when I lay down and try to sleep at night, they keep swirling around in my brain, there’s so many wonderful things that I envision for it that keeps me awake, but then when I actually sit down in front of my computer, the reality of it isn’t as easy. So the answer was really nothing and this sad look came over her face fleetingly, which made me feel kinda bad about it, but it was the truth. One thing that keeps me going is looking toward one day. That’s been my crutch for a lot of things for a long time. I see these really cool shoes (who doesn’t love new kicks?) that I know would look fabulous on me (I imagine), but I can’t afford them, so I tell myself that it’s okay, one day, I’ll have them. I hate my dead end job, but it’s okay for now because one day, I’ll find that dream job, I hate where I’m living, but it’s okay because one day, I’ll move somewhere better, my car is falling apart, but it’s okay because one day, I’ll have a new ride, etc. etc. you get the concept. The only problem is that I’m getting older now and I’m literally running out of days. How far away is one day? I don’t know, but it needs to be coming along here pretty shortly, along with time, I’m running out of steam as well, I’m getting tired folks, really tired. There is one thing that bothers me though, taking into consideration that whole “the grass is always greener” saying, if and when one day ever comes, will it be worth it? Will I still remember the dreams that I had? If I do remember and achieve them, will they still mean something to me…

Lacey ☮

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Lois Lane…

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This is what it takes to get me to leave the sanctuary of my beloved bedroom… Food! Wonderful food that I didn’t have to cook and an outing with my honey. This is a chicken fajita omelet, it looks a little messy, but it was so yummy!

My man doesn’t realize how much I depend on him, he’s totally my security blanket, you know, like Linus from the Peanuts dragging that blue scrap around. As aggravating and ill tempered as he can be (he’s a not young Italian 😀 ), he’s become my world, my safety net, my motivation. Almost every decision I make is based on how I think he’ll receive/perceive it. I have his back (to the best of my ability) because I know that he has mine. That’s a relationship folks! It’s taken him a little time (quite a bit actually) to realize the extreme of my social anxiety and peculiar introversion because being mostly a homebody himself, it didn’t really stand out until this past year and that’s probably (definitely) a lot my fault because I simply never talked about it. It’s hard to admit to your significant other that hey, I have problems, I’m not like most of the other people that you’ve known, I’m not perfect. I don’t think he really grasped the magnitude of it at first, how hard it really is for me to socialize, how much energy it takes to get through it, how draining mentally and emotionally it is, how it can just beat the crap out of me under certain circumstances, but he’s starting to see it now and his expectation of me is changing, he’s become more understanding, more gentle (still always my best friend). As I said, my security blanket, my teddy bear, the thing that I cling to when my inner storms threaten to engulf me. Don’t get me wrong though, I’m not weak, I have a great amount of strength when the chips are down (or I’ve been pushed too far and my southern charm is replaced with the full force of my southern temper!) I’m like Superman, but even he had his kryptonite that rendered him powerless. So does that make Babe my Lois Lane?

Lacey ☮