1. My mom vented to me the other day about her brother, who has some opinions she doesn't agree with. EVERY SINGLE THING she mentioned was something where I feel the same way about her and her opinions about homosexuality. Every. single. thing. So I could totally agree with her about how extremely odd it is when you love someone but can't BELIEVE the awful things that person would say/think, and also about how in most cases there is ABSOLUTELY NO SENSE in discussing it. In fact, I gave her the exact advice I give myself when I'm dealing with her. I wonder if she wondered why I was so very understanding and helpful.
2. Mike, darling, if you flip the flick out at the children about DVDs not being in their cases ONE! MORE! TIME! I swear I will throw out every single one of your DVDs so you don't have to worry about it any more. The choices are not (1) your way or (2) throwing out the DVDs, but that is the way you keep presenting it to us, so I guess that's the way you want it. Also, stop making YOUR stupid problem OUR stupid problem. We should not be scrambling to help you just so you'll stop being angry.
3. My mother-in-law announced her annual autumn visit. And I am not freaking out. Oh, Prozac, please allow me to pledge my troth.
4. Though actually, don't tell Prozac I said so but I'm going to be trying something else when I see the doctor next week. The Prozac has definitely helped in some ways, but I have trouble PICKING UP MY PRESCRIPTION because I am afraid of talking to the pharmacy clerks, and I have trouble MAKING MY PSYCHIATRIST APPOINTMENTS because I am afraid of talking to the receptionist on the phone, and I'd say that's a social anxiety fail.
5. I'm on the wax of a waxing and waning food/exercise thing, and there are some ways in which I feel SO GOOD when I'm doing this, and there are even more ways in which I feel LIKE CRAP. And hate the whole world. And everything anyone ever says about food and exercise.
6. There are a lot of times when I know I'm not speaking the right way to my older children, but I don't seem to be able to change it. It's weird to be WILLING myself to change, and for it to have so little effect. See also: food/exercise.
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Evidence
When my grandfather was dying, he kept asking my dad (a retired minister), "Do you really believe? Do you really believe?" My grandpa had always been a "Good Citizen"-style Christian: not someone who goes around talking about a love affair with Jesus, but rather someone who is a Christian and goes to church because That Is What Decent People Do along with paying their taxes and mowing their lawns and donating to the library fund. At the end, he started thinking, "...Wait. How likely IS this? Have I seen any evidence that religion is anything more than a community ritual?" My dad, who isn't a "Love Affair With Jesus"-type Christian but is definitely a Full-On Believer, could confidently answer, "Yes" again and again. Yes, I believe. Yes, I will see you there soon.
I've wondered what I'd do if my parents, on their deathbeds, begged me to confirm their faith. On one hand, my real answer is no: no, I don't believe it's true; no, I don't believe that death is the magical portal to a land where the streets are paved with gold and praises are sung to God for all eternity. On the other hand, I don't think it matters if I lie to make a dying person feel better. Pragmatically, what difference does it make what words I say to them right before they die? Either it's true or it isn't, and neither of us actually knows what's true, and they're likely going to find out before I do.
Well, I hope they don't ask, that's all.
My mom and I were talking the other day, and it started out with her talking religion and me biting my tongue and thinking about kittens and puppies. My mom seems to think that either someone is a Christian or else they know nothing about it: she explains things to me as if I've never heard The Good News, instead of as if I'd been a Christian-school-attending, church-attending, minister-father-having, Love-Affair-With-Jesus-mother-having, Christian-household-participating, truly-believing Christian until I was 20.
So she was retelling me the story I'd heard many times in church and in school, the one where the bad man dies and goes to Hell, and he begs to be allowed to come back and tell his friends that it's really true and that they should change their lives. He is told that it wouldn't do any good: that if someone doesn't believe the abundant evidence right before their eyes while on earth, they won't believe it even if someone comes back from the dead and confirms it.
My mom was using this to illustrate an article she read recently about how people believe what they believe, and evidence has very little to do with it---not only with religious issues, but with things such as marital issues, friendship issues, self-esteem issues, political issues. And I was clenching my teeth because my mom seemed to see this in only one direction: that is, she was NOT telling a story about a man who dies and then begs to tell his religious friends it's all a big myth.
But then my mom said that if she were to find out for sure that Christianity wasn't true, she wouldn't give it up at this point because she has too much invested. It made me feel instantly less combative. If she likes believing and has decided to continue doing so no matter what, that is a MUCH DIFFERENT SITUATION than if she thinks it's SO OBVIOUS and that I'd have to be ABSOLUTELY BRAIN-FREE to ignore the ABUNDANT EVIDENCE.
I've wondered what I'd do if my parents, on their deathbeds, begged me to confirm their faith. On one hand, my real answer is no: no, I don't believe it's true; no, I don't believe that death is the magical portal to a land where the streets are paved with gold and praises are sung to God for all eternity. On the other hand, I don't think it matters if I lie to make a dying person feel better. Pragmatically, what difference does it make what words I say to them right before they die? Either it's true or it isn't, and neither of us actually knows what's true, and they're likely going to find out before I do.
Well, I hope they don't ask, that's all.
My mom and I were talking the other day, and it started out with her talking religion and me biting my tongue and thinking about kittens and puppies. My mom seems to think that either someone is a Christian or else they know nothing about it: she explains things to me as if I've never heard The Good News, instead of as if I'd been a Christian-school-attending, church-attending, minister-father-having, Love-Affair-With-Jesus-mother-having, Christian-household-participating, truly-believing Christian until I was 20.
So she was retelling me the story I'd heard many times in church and in school, the one where the bad man dies and goes to Hell, and he begs to be allowed to come back and tell his friends that it's really true and that they should change their lives. He is told that it wouldn't do any good: that if someone doesn't believe the abundant evidence right before their eyes while on earth, they won't believe it even if someone comes back from the dead and confirms it.
My mom was using this to illustrate an article she read recently about how people believe what they believe, and evidence has very little to do with it---not only with religious issues, but with things such as marital issues, friendship issues, self-esteem issues, political issues. And I was clenching my teeth because my mom seemed to see this in only one direction: that is, she was NOT telling a story about a man who dies and then begs to tell his religious friends it's all a big myth.
But then my mom said that if she were to find out for sure that Christianity wasn't true, she wouldn't give it up at this point because she has too much invested. It made me feel instantly less combative. If she likes believing and has decided to continue doing so no matter what, that is a MUCH DIFFERENT SITUATION than if she thinks it's SO OBVIOUS and that I'd have to be ABSOLUTELY BRAIN-FREE to ignore the ABUNDANT EVIDENCE.
Monday, July 13, 2009
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Guest Constance #22
[This is a post by a "guest Constance": someone who doesn't want her own pink apartment but just wants to do a one-time post. If you'd like to do a guest-Constance post, email it to me: constancethefirst at gmail dot com.]
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Questions for you and your readers who have experience and wish to share their thoughts:
I've recently summoned the courage to book an appointment with a doctor to talk mental health as I'm now confident the way I'm feeling is not normal. I'm looking for suggestions as to how I can be my best advocate when I meet with the doc. How does one prepare for the doc appointment to discuss the issue of "I think I'm depressed?" Also, what can I expect? What happens at these meetings? Do I tolerate it if he tries to blow me off or give me herbal stuff? Who knows best in these situations the professional or the person crying all the time? Because sometimes I think, hmm I AM OK and then other days I think THIS IS NOT WHO I AM, and really miss the old me. What if I'm having a good day the day I meet the doc? Does anyone have experience with a drug that hasn't made things foggy? One of my issues is that I haven't been able to focus and I find myself just staring at a screen at work and struggling to do brain intensive work that I used to be able to do. I'm getting worried I'm going to get fired if i don't get this figured out, not to mention the sobbing is getting really embarassing.
Thank you.
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Questions for you and your readers who have experience and wish to share their thoughts:
I've recently summoned the courage to book an appointment with a doctor to talk mental health as I'm now confident the way I'm feeling is not normal. I'm looking for suggestions as to how I can be my best advocate when I meet with the doc. How does one prepare for the doc appointment to discuss the issue of "I think I'm depressed?" Also, what can I expect? What happens at these meetings? Do I tolerate it if he tries to blow me off or give me herbal stuff? Who knows best in these situations the professional or the person crying all the time? Because sometimes I think, hmm I AM OK and then other days I think THIS IS NOT WHO I AM, and really miss the old me. What if I'm having a good day the day I meet the doc? Does anyone have experience with a drug that hasn't made things foggy? One of my issues is that I haven't been able to focus and I find myself just staring at a screen at work and struggling to do brain intensive work that I used to be able to do. I'm getting worried I'm going to get fired if i don't get this figured out, not to mention the sobbing is getting really embarassing.
Thank you.
Friday, July 10, 2009
Guest Constance #21
[This is a post by a "guest Constance": someone who doesn't want her own pink apartment but just wants to do a one-time post. If you'd like to do a guest-Constance post, email it to me: constancethefirst at gmail dot com.]
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I am having a disagreement with my husband and wanted to ask all of you in the Constance building what you think.
Should a married man's best friend be a married woman he works with? This is NOT someone he grew up with, but rather someone he's just known for about 2 years.
Should a husband insist on seeing this woman even after his wife expresses concern about the appropriateness of the relationship?
Should the wife be concerned if the "friend" calls her husband after 11pm (while the wife is sleeping) and asks him to come meet her for a beer?
Should the wife be concerned if the husband SNEAKS OUT OF THE HOUSE WITH THE INTENT OF NEVER TELLING HIS WIFE AT ALL THAT HE DID GO MEET HER?
Just curious as to whether or not I'm overreacting. Thanks.
********
I am having a disagreement with my husband and wanted to ask all of you in the Constance building what you think.
Should a married man's best friend be a married woman he works with? This is NOT someone he grew up with, but rather someone he's just known for about 2 years.
Should a husband insist on seeing this woman even after his wife expresses concern about the appropriateness of the relationship?
Should the wife be concerned if the "friend" calls her husband after 11pm (while the wife is sleeping) and asks him to come meet her for a beer?
Should the wife be concerned if the husband SNEAKS OUT OF THE HOUSE WITH THE INTENT OF NEVER TELLING HIS WIFE AT ALL THAT HE DID GO MEET HER?
Just curious as to whether or not I'm overreacting. Thanks.
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Hampered
You know how sometimes a household-sharer can clean HUFFILY, with an attitude that communicates "I am doing this because YOU didn't do your job"? Yeah. Mike cleaned off the top of our bureau this weekend, and he had that attitude. Furthermore, one of the ways he cleaned it off was by taking the folded clean laundry on top of it (it was little scraplets of laundry that needed to be taken to various other rooms) and dumping it back into the hamper. THANK you, sweetie. That's EXACTLY why I hadn't cleaned off the top of the bureau myself: because I was TOO LAZY to dump that stuff into the dirty laundry. Cleaning is SO EASY, isn't it?
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