It's Hard To Balance On This Soap Box While On My High Horse

I just read this article about the stigmas and misconceptions some people have toward mental illness. Although a little preachy, the author addressed some issues people with mental illnesses face.

In a world where being an individual is praised but being "different" makes you weird, mental illness is an awkward thing for people to deal with.

Having experienced it first-hand and knowing others who's lives have been affected by various mental illnesses, I know how it feels. You get cancer and people understand. You have a stroke and people understand. You get the flu and people avoid you for days, but they understand. You "get" bipolar disorder or schizophrenia or obsessive compulsive disorder and people don't always understand. If you're depressed, you need to "get over it".

Ok, ok I'll stop. Who's being preachy now? ;) But really, I was inspired to type this because of all the outrageous comments I read on this article. Some people feel the way I do, but others waved it off and basically spewed out every ignorant thing I've heard people say about mental illnesses. They obviously don't know too much about the subject and the debilitating effects.

I wonder if someone who tells a person with depression to just "get over it" would tell a person with cancer the same thing? Probably not. Can't we look at it that way? (Controversial material to follow): I mean, some people with health problems could've prevented it; alcohol causes liver disease, sun exposure causes skin cancer, fatty foods and a sedentary lifestyle cause heart attacks and diabetes type 2.

I'm not out to point the finger at these particular people, but I am trying to point out the fact that we feel sympathy for these people who's bodies get sick for whatever reason. But what about those with a mental illness? (Your brain can get sick, too, you know.) Why is it often so difficult to understand?

My hope is that people will educate themselves and stop and think when they notice someone who is a little "different". Have sympathy for those who are suffering. We all have problems. We are all on the sometimes rocky journey of life. We can pull together and be understanding and helpful instead of judgemental and afraid.

I'm Going To Take A Nap

Every morning for the past, oh, as long as I can remember, my husband has awakened at six. Weekday mornings, fine (gotta get to work on time, right?) Today is Saturday (which is a 'not-weekday'). He awoke like clockwork at six o'clock, got up and made some pancakes, ate them, and eventually got back in bed with me.

At this point, it was about eight and I had, as I most often do in this situation, been lying awake the entire time.

I'm a bad sleeper. When I crawl into bed at night, it takes around an hour for me to fall asleep. Then if I'm awakened in the middle of the might, it takes about as long to fall asleep again. Let's say my sleep is interrupted at six in the morning after getting in bed around eleven or midnight... You do the math; it's enough slumber to have gotten a night's sleep, but after not getting much sleep the previous week (or previous weekend) it's just not enough to satisfy a grouchy, morning-challenged person such as myself.

This morning was no different from the rest. This morning, our humble home was filled with the sleepy, scratchy-voiced, profanity laced rantings of a woman in desperate need of "just one %#@& good night's sleep".

I'm amazed at how friendly James is in the mornings. He's his usual self, teasing me and being cute with the dogs. He thinks it's funny when I'm grumpy in the mornings and most of the time is able to make me smile or laugh instead of groan and throw a tantrum. Any given weekend, he's more than happy to get up, whip us up some breakfast, watch a soccer game, and then fall asleep for a couple hours. I would love to be able to say, "I'm going to take a nap" and then actually accomplish just that. But my brain will not shut off and napping only comes on those rare occasions when I'm running on absolute empty.

Thankfully, my adoring husband is being patient and understanding with me this morning. He's currently snoozing in our bedroom with the dogs. At one point, he even jumped out of bed to come to my aid when a rogue ketchup bottle leapt to its death from our fridge and onto my foot.

I'm in a much better mood now though. My belly is getting full, I'm more awake, and I can laugh at myself. Life goes on, and of course there's always hope that maybe tonight will be the night I get a %#@& good night's sleep.

Christmas In November

I'm upset.

I love Halloween and I love Christmas. I also love that forgotten holiday in between the two. Remember? It's called 'Thanksgiving'. Every commercial, ad, and store display you see will tell you to get out the tree, hang the stockings, and wrap those presents - THERE'S NO TIME, DAMN YOU!

I understand the way retail works; we've been receiving Spring 2011 items for the past month. You always need to keep ahead of the seasons. But what I absolutely loathe is the fact that some people get so excited about Christmas that they want to start celebrating it earlier and earlier and they think it's perfectly ok! I believe that if the world does end in December 2012, as was predicted by an intelligent, ancient people and a guy who wrote a bunch of vague ramblings back in the day, it will be due to our culture's increasingly insatiable appetite for more more MORE CHRISTMAS until we cause our world to collapse in on itself or spontaneously combust (I haven't decided which yet).

Before you declare me a 'Scrooge' or 'Grinch', let me explain something. Since November 3rd, thanks to my 'favorite' radio station FM100, I have been subjected to Christmas music eight hours a day, five days a week while I work. I catch myself singing or whistling along and I hate myself for it. I get the songs stuck in my head and bring them home with me. Don't get me wrong - most of these songs are getting me in a jolly good mood. I'm excited to put up my tree and go shopping. Some of that delight and excitement from being a kid waiting for Santa to arrive is still in me. But... it's too early! It's November! We haven't eaten any turkey yet, people! Plus, I'm pretty certain being forced to listen to 30 different renditions of 'Jingle Bell Rock' in one day is some form of torture.

There's the man singing 'Jingle Bells' who sounds like he's at a seedy lounge, wearing a plaid jacket with matching bow tie, holding a mic in one hand, cigarette and mixed drink in the other. There's an old-time rendition of 'The Twelve Days Of Christmas', which on bad days reminds me of the '99 Bottles Of Beer' song. There's 'It's The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year', which mentions "scary ghost stories" - I thought that was Halloween...

So many celebrities have capitalized on Christmas music. A few of these choices to croon out various holiday tunes are puzzling to me. Case in point: Neil Diamond. He's Jewish, mind you, but he churns out those holiday classics like nobody's business and I can't stand it. I can't stand the sound of that man's voice, and here's why: While my husband and I were living with his mother, the soundtrack to our lives for about three straight months - maybe more - was from the 1970's remake of The Jazz Singer starring Neil Diamond. It was on full blast, all day and through a lot of the night. You could hear the man belt out "they're coming to America!" no matter where you were in the house. Why, you ask? Why would people do this to themselves? His sweet grandmother was to blame. She's 82 years old and loves Mr. Diamond. She played that dvd over and over, never tyring of it. It is now a running joke between all of us, but the memories of hearing that soundtrack day after day after day haunt me. Months of therapy will be ruined due to this post.

Speaking of running jokes, there is a song that many of us at work absolutely love to hate. I don't know the actual title of it, but we lovingly refer to it as 'The Shoe Song'. It's about a guy who's out Christmas shopping and is standing in line behind a boy who's buying shoes for his mom. His dying mom. He fails to come up with enough money to pay for them. The man singing us this sad tale offers up the rest of the money, so that the boy's mother can have some pretty new shoes in case she "meets Jesus tonight". Some regard this as a 'feel-good' song, but it's just so depressing and out of place with all the 'Holly, Jolly Christmas' music that I can't help but scoff at it. It's almost as depressing as the song about child abuse in which the little girl sings: "Please don't let them hurt your children" or something like that. She's apparently praying to Jesus, asking Him to make it all ok for all the kids who get slaps on Christmas instead of gifts. Merry Christmas, Everyone!

How do I transition from that?

I have no idea.

Always trying to find the good in everything, I do have a handful of favorites.

My parents' love for Air Supply has given me an appreciation for what can only fall under the category of 'Wuss Rock'. So, when Air Supply comes on, playfully performing 'Sleigh Ride', I can't help but smile. Funny story - I actually met one of the members a few years back. I told him my parents loved Air Supply, failing to follow up with anything to say about my love for them. He was not amused. Oops. Almost as regretful as the time I met Jared Leto and all I managed to tell him was how much I liked him in Fight Club (I hadn't seen Requiem For A Dream yet). I'll never live that down! Never!

'I Want A Hippopotamus For Christmas' is one of the few highlights of my listening experience, as is 'The 12 Days Of Christmas' as sung by The Muppets and friends.

I have to say, in all seriousness (of course, how can you get more serious than The Muppets?) that 'The Little Drummer Boy' is possibly my favorite of all. It's a beautiful, well-written song that often gets me teary-eyed. "Little baby (pah rum-pa-pa-pum) I am a poor boy too... I have no gift to bring... that's fit to give a king... I played my drum for Him... I played my best for Him!... Then He smiled at me... me and my drum." To me, it means that God and Jesus will take whatever we can give them - they aren't picky.

See? Look at me! I'm making posts about Christmas before it's even December! Curses! The premonitions are coming true! I'm being sucked into the holiday spirit against my will!

Happy Thankschristmas, everyone! I'm not too early, am I?