The Poster Child...

A discussion with The Cell got me thinking... I am truly a poster child for "how a girl turns out when she loses her father too young".

So much of what my life is today is a result of that loss.

When I was 8 years old, I went to bed on December 23rd with two living parents. When I awoke on Christmas Eve, my world had changed forever. I have so few "memories" of my dad... none to speak of really. Brief snippets of a face, or a voice - I remember him solely through photos.

Those of you that think your children are old enough to remember you? I was 8. So, no, never take for granted that they will remember. Of course, nowadays with the ability to record your every word and nuance.... it's different.

I sought out and married a man much like my father. I didn't know that of course, until my mother told me. And that's not a BAD thing, but when you seek approval like a child, it's not a GOOD thing.

I need to work on that. ;-)

Sometimes I wonder what my life would have been like if my father had lived.... so many people in my life that I never would have met, but so many people that are strangers to me now, may have been friends or even family.

My mom did a fantastic job raising me on her own. Stepfathers came and went, none impacting my life as a father. I never looked upon any of them in that way.

There was only one daddy for me...

I know this is a day late, but Happy Father's Day daddy... I love you and I have missed you all my life.

Midlife Crisis? Or Lexapro withdrawal?

WHO knows. It sure feels like one. What sucks is that it coincides with leaving Lexapro behind, so maybe it's just that.

That little round pill helped me for 18 months. It helped me deal with anxiety. And it worked. But it robbed me of some things that I needed back. And it gave me some things I need to be RID of, like 14 pounds... for someone that has never had a weight issue in her life, 14 pounds was a hard thing to face.

So it's gone. It's out of my system. I've been Lexapro Free for 4 weeks.

The pros: I've lost 4 pounds. I've regained my sex drive times TEN. I don't have to worry about forgetting a pill. I made it through the withdrawals. They sucked, but I'm done. And a pro that also feels like a con... I am feeling things again. Emotions run high.

The cons: Those frigging feelings. I've forgotten how to handle the emotions. So I'm like a new baby taking steps... and sometimes falling down. The appetite... yeah, not eating too much. Drinking more than I eat sometimes. And last but not least, my husband has become annoying again. LOL

Lexapro had the ability to make me mellow. Without being TOO mellow. I handled things differently. My brain redirected. I was quite unemotional. I didn't cry. I didn't overreact. I felt like ME only... relaxed.

And now as each emotion and thought and feeling come back, it's new again. Familiar, but new. I sometimes sit and think about what I'm feeling and realize that I've been there before, and survived. That I just have forgotten that I can do it. If I can do it WITH Lexapro, I KNOW I can do it without.

And if I can't... then we'll need to see about a different drug. Because dang... I can't lose the sex drive again. Sorry. And I can't gain the pounds. That was actually more of an impetus to get off the drug than the sex drive. I was getting VERY upset about the weight.

WHICH all ties in to the midlife crisis bullshit.

Every day I feel the need to validate myself in my looks. This isn't NEW, but it's done with much more desperation now. I know I kicked ass in my 20's and 30's, and I'm not talking face - I'm not THAT vain - I'm talking body. In my 40's it wasn't so much an issue. Well, now at 52? I feel like I'm lost... and I'm ascared that my obsession with my looks are taking a front seat because I can't fall back on the Lexapro to keep me grounded. Does that make any sense? I don't know if I'm using the right words.

I'm hoping it's just my brain firing signals that haven't fired in a while. And the resurgence of the sex drive. All tied up in a pretty bow. I feel like I need validation that I'm still hawt. And sexual. And wanted. And able to fire up a ... well, you know.

So I'm walking the track constantly, not eating, wearing tight, revealing clothing... just waiting for that sideways glance from another track walker, or driver going by, a double take by guys in the grocery store, an appreciative glance...

So... what is it? Midlife crisis or Lexapro withdrawal?

Happy Birthday to me.

And here I sit in the middle of the biggest pity party anyone would EVER want to see. TRUST me - my pity parties are NOT fun.

I blame it on the Lexapro. Or should I say LACK of Lexapro. I'm clean one week. I feel ... weird. Weird just like when I started on it, so I know it will pass. Things that were "gone" before, have come back with a vengence... but they are GOOD things, so I'm not complaining... if you get my drift.

But I'm wired for sound and today I'm just feeling really weepy and I HATE that. I am not a cryer.

I'm gonna clench my butt cheeks together like Barb said. Maybe that will help.

Over and out...

It's a guy. It's a girl.

So I'm heading up to the park for my walk this morning. It's nice and early, and still not too hot. I walk the 1/4 mile to the park entrance, and start on the walking path.

A few hundred yards ahead I see a shape. It's a person. It's stretching. I get closer.

It's a hawt guy. He's got his back to me and he's using these rubber band thingys to stretch with. All different positions.

I slow my pace in order to enjoy the view. The muscles are incredible. Not TOO pumped, just tight and hard. Legs... butt... OMG the butt was HARD... tiny waist... large back. It was hot, so he was schwetty... shiny black skin... short afro... just fine.

As I got closer, he bent straight down at the waist. He was wearing black spandex shorts. And, well, of course I looked.

Um... did he forget to pack his junk? My mind was trying to process why there was no junk pile. In those shorts there should have been one.

I drew abreast of him.

Yeah. It was a woman.

GAAAAAAAHHHHHHH.

Message Board Mentality

You could call me a message board addict. I wouldn't disagree with you. At this moment in time, I'm registered at a dozen, and post on 5 every day. I'm not proud of that.

Now, I don't post 10 comments on each one - it's a couple here, and a couple there. Plus checking the smack blog. I don't post on it, but I do read it when there's a breaking news story.

Now you add facebook into the mix. Why I feel the need to tell you when I'm going to work, when I'm home, when I'm drinking, when I'm farming... I don't know. I got sucked into that too, and it's a form of message board.

But there's nothing quite like a real message board. One that you feel comfortable in. Like old shoes. Or your favorite bra. You know what I mean?

On a daily basis I check in with My Dawg of course, and Booktalks and Scrappy Jo's. I read at Scrapbook.com, but rarely post, and I am loving ScrapFreak for it's old friends and gallery.

Spread too thin? Eh. The first three I mentioned are small sites, not a ton of posting going on. Scrapbook.com is busy busy busy, but I read what I'm interested in. I posted at SF last night - and got a bit overwhelmed by the busyness of the board.

Funny though, that all of them have one thing in common. The disparity of personalities. You have the quiet ones, the funny ones, the sad ones, the crabby ones, the ones that have been there, done that, the smart ones, the evil ones, the religious ones, the political ones, the jokers, the drinkers, the non-drinkers, the dreamers, the realists, the blunt ones, the ones that beat around the bush until someone else says what they were hoping to...

And yet they are all family. Message board family. Someone not attached to a message board would NEVER understand it.

I'm glad I understand it.

Thanks to my message board families. You know who you are... lol

OH my poor forgotten blog...

now that facebook has taken over my days, this has bit the dust. A bit sad. I enjoyed this blog. And I'm not going to kill it. I'm going to give it CPR.

Breathe dammit - BREATHE.

I'm on vacation this week. I have spent most of my time in my scraproom. YES scraproom - GOD I love saying that. I'm like a woman possessed. I'm scrapping, I'm altering, I'm BUYING.

And next week is Intercourse. Let's see, I get to see Niki, Julie, Linda, Cara, Liz, Leslie, Amy, Candice, MY KAT, Veronica (maybe?) Amber (maybe?) MY JESSICA... who am I leaving out? And we'll be in a new Love Shack. Looks pretty... Looking forward to it. Good group. I'll miss My Donna though... Intercourse will not be the same without her. Poor Kay will have to make egg casserole with me.

Now... I really must tend my farm. Damn whoever started me on farming. I will find you and get you back.

OH - and heard my new favorite song - it's a song I've heard countless times before when I watch Willy Wonka, but the remix on Tim's blog just GRABBED me...

Go watch - it's from his most recent trip to Ranger:

http://www.timholtz.typepad.com/

Strong Women

I find that as I get older I am surrounding myself with very strong women. *I* am not a strong woman. I am a follower.
It's funny to me that a follower annoys the crap out of me.
And I wonder if I annoy the crap out of my strong friends.