Another day...another smile

Now, who wouldn't want to wake up to a day of this???

We're potty training (OK, we have BEEN doing it since she turned one and now she's almost two), and her smaller 'panties' (which, I love them because they are 'for boys' and I was always jealous of boy Underoos with Yoda and cool stuff like that), so, anyway, she's wearing boys hand-me-down undies (kinda, ew...now that I think on it) and they are a little too big. Size 4T, actually. But, it makes for some great pictures.

I love my pool. Who cares that it's only about 4 ft across. And I'm only 21 inches.

Now, back away, slowly. I'm so cute I might make your head explode.

So, this morning I awoke, like a normal person. No nausea, no feeling of impending death, no fear of facing the day...well, OK, there is always some little nagging fear of some deadline, some person going off on me, some unknown thing that I can't even describe. But, still, my chains have fallen off and I'm happy to be free.

I got a small portfolio together for the modeling agency from which I won a year contract (Sophie won one, as well). Here are some pictures:

Who knows where all that will go. Maybe nowhere, fast. But I just have to be patient and if something comes along, so be it. I don't want to be a mega star. There's a little indie flick I'm thinking of auditioning for at the Tutwiler on August 8th. Maybe I'll go. I don't know. I've got to admit that I'm a little scared.

But what is life without walking through the flames and realizing you didn't even get singed?

'Till then, in response to my last blog, my dad wrote me this astounding and insightful and blunt (yes, I get that from him and I love it) response to my coping problems. I think a lot of us could benefit from this wisdom, so LOVE YA, DAD! You're on my blog now. :)

COPING SKILLS:

(a) unless it’s an emergency, you DON’T HAVE TO RESPOND IMMEDIATELY to anything…any comment, any request, any demand, any invitation. In other words, draw a line and don’t allow anyone to cross it until YOU ARE READY.

(b) you can respond partially (when you choose to), like “I don’t know…I’ll have to think about that."

(c) you DON’T HAVE TO EXPLAIN YOUR RESPONSE. Often, we don’t know WHY something doesn’t “hit us” the right way, it just doesn’t, and a clear logical, rational explanation is not needed and not to be expected. After all, we’re not a computer…data in, data out.

That will be $135, please. Just give your credit card to the nice assistant at the door. :)

Did you ever have a time....

Did you ever have a time when you thought, "This isn't happening. This is too surreal to be actually going on around me, in me (whatever the situation may be). I can't actually be considering these things. I can't actually have just done that."??

I have a friend who has become an addict, of sorts. ;) (In-recovery joke.) She has been exercising her butt off.... Seriously, Mer, like, where's your butt? LOL I'm kidding, of course.

But there's got to have been a moment where she thought, "Holy crap, this FitLinxx thing says I lifted 3 elephants this week. For real! Over time, my circuit training efforts mean I lifted that many elephants?" (I mean, with this YMCA FitLixx thing, you can even count walking from the parking lot to the grocery store!) Anyway, I digress...as usual.

So, anyway, I'm waking up, trying to go through my day, not thinking about my addiction in the sense that I am not trying to figure out how I can sneak around and get my 'fix,' but like, "HOLY! I'm through with it! Done. Finito. Wow. REALLY? Like, no, really?" And I smile. Really big. I laugh out loud. Even in this mental and sometimes physical pain, I just want to thank God that I'm done. I'm out of the closet. (No, I'm not gay.)

And I've realized what my new addiction is going to be. I mean, some Dr.s have told me that I need to do this and that and be hospitalized and blah, and blah, and blah. God's bigger than that. I was never opposed to doing what I needed to do, if I needed to do it, but I haven't needed all that Dr. supervision. (Funny word: Super. Vision. Like, Superman? For real?) Anyway, God's been enough. Watching my back. And my family and friends, and prayer and, of course, Tommy and sleep and my new addiction...which really isn't new because I had it before.

It's lame, nothing interesting, I know...but it's music. And I have to say, the clean version of this song, and the chorus especially, LOSE YOURSELF is THE most inspiring song for me right now. Eminem may not be some clean-cut Christian, but he is honest and you know what? I admire him. He's more open and real than a lot of people I know. So slander me. *Shudder* Big whoop.

I forgot how much I love music. Acting like a rock star in the car, in front of the mirror (OK, maybe I'm sharing too much.... *snort* ME sharing too much. *laughs*) and just being the biggest moron and pretending I'm the bomb.

Don't lie. You know you've done it, too.

However, there is one thing that is missing. HUGE problem: I've never learned how to cope with stress or conflict. I am the epitome of 'fight or flight.' For the last 8-some-odd years I've been flighting...flighty is more like it. Before that, I was a fighter. Not a good one. A mean one.

Seriously, anyone who knows me...really knows me...knows I am not non-confrontational (unless I have a horrible addiction to fall back on and couldn't give a rip and didn't have energy to fight back anyway). However, when I am backed into a corner, I do not come out with my fists up or say, "OK, you're right. I'm being irrational." (Although, I am capable of that rationality, it takes WAAAAY too much effort for me.)

So, if I'm not a pretty tame 'fists up, ready to fight,' what am I when I'm backed into a corner? I am thinking...this: You asked for it. And I was taught this. Through pain and heartbreak and lies and blah, blah, blah, blittity, blah.

So I called up a shrink today and said, "I have no coping mechanisms. The only coping mechanism I've had for about 8 years is gone. I don't want that to ever come back. However, I don't know the balance between fight or flight. I either roll over and play dead or...well, become your worst psychopathic, belittling nightmare. (You think I'm kidding?) And I hate it. I need help. Celebrate Recovery will help me with certain things, but the psychological things...I need help, Doc." So, I have an appointment with a psychiatrist tomorrow at 5pm.

He's actually excited for me. I can't truly understand why. Pretty cool doctor, I guess.

Anyway. That's all for now.

OH, please pray that I can get some more painting done. I just don't have the energy and these headaches are killing me and things are strained (no big surprise here) between Tommy and me. I still have two full paintings to go and the lady asked for them by mid-August. I'm going to have to trust my instinct and JUST FREAKIN' PAINT.