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SPIRIT
I must say I did not know whether to put this in the rant section or the spirit section but as my mind is on the almighty tonight it is going here.
I have just deleted an entire post about how are relationships with our parents impact our relationship with God.  (I did save it in word and do
believe I will come back to it at some point but not tonight)  in my writing about God and one's parents I went down a different path and as I am
trying to be open to the wisdom of the universe I am taking the path that I believe is calling me tonight.

Tonight my questions is - Is God truly a loving and kind God?  I do not know.  I wish I could answer in the affirmative with no doubt in my mind or
my heart but I cannot.  I do not know if God is loving and kind.  I desperately want God to be loving and kind.  I want to matter in both the big and
the small things but I am not sure that I do; I am not sure if anyone does.

The God I grew up with was the God of the Christian Bible- which one I have no idea - the one the Catholics used.  I must tell you the God in the
bible can be very unpleasant and very unkind.

A few examples

1. Killing the first born son of all of the Egyptians.  I have had a problem with this since I remember.  Those babies were innocents.  Only
murderers kill babies

2. Testing Abraham's faith by telling him to go and sacrifice his son - not something a friend would do

3. "Allowing" Abraham to take a second wife when Sarah could not get pregnant and then when she did "allowing" Abraham to throw the second
wife out along with HIS child

If I met this guy in person he would not be at the top of my list of favorite people.

Then along comes Jesus - born of a Virgin and he dies on the cross for our sins and we are all OK - if we accept Jesus otherwise we are going
to hell - and going to hell makes killing babies look like child's play.

Like I said - where is the loving kindness - not in the bible at least not in the stories the nuns read to me when I was a little girl ( and for the record
I have no doubt that dying on a cross was horrible and horrendous and painful but not anymore horrible and horrendous then dying of Alzhiemers
or being burned to death or having to jump off of the world trade center) I do not believe the Jesus' suffering was any worse then any of the
examples I just cited so why is it given such power?  Is it because he was innocent.  So where those who jumped from the World Trade Center
and THEIR FAMILIES

Now lets move onto today.  Where is GOD?

1. In Dafur?
2. The Middle East?
3. Walking the streets with the ambulatory schizophrenics?
4. In the cancer ward where a family loses their seven year old?
5. In Afghanistan?
6. With me when I am standing before a judge and every child that comes before the court on a certain day has been abused and neglected.  
Has an IQ less then seventy.  Is diagnosed with bi-polar at seventeen.

I do not know where GOD is - I would like someone to find him or her and let him or her know she is needed.

I feel at times I can catch glimpses - when I am overcome with love for the children in my life.  When I watched Susan Boyle, when I laugh with my
best friend.  But then I am blessed beyond belief.  I live in a house with a roof and running water and electricity.  I am not living in a country where
as a woman I would not be allowed to drive.  I am not suffering genocide by rape and destruction.  I work and am loved and yet I struggle.  I want
answers.  I am fully aware that I may never get them but I will continue to look.  If you know where God is please tell me (and please do not tell me
to accept Jesus and I will be saved and have peace - this is not my path - I wish it were - it would be easier then I could let go of all of my
questions - but I would also lose my essential truth and that is one that questions)

So please tell me - if there is a God and he/she cares about us - where is he/she and why does he/she allow the suffering we see and I do not
buy into the whole freewill.  If we were made in God's image and he/she knew our nature then he/she should have better prepared us for dealing
with envy, greed, lust and all other sins and human behavior that cause destruction.

after but the reality is that no one who is currently living really knows. Some may think they "know" but they do not "know" they believe and there
is a difference between knowledge and belief.

I have been slightly obsessed with death for as long as I can remember. There are many factors that have contributed to my obsession. Up until
very recently I have been afraid of death. I have also been afraid of dying. As a young woman I never thought that I would live past the age of
thirty. For many years this allowed me to not think or have to worry about my future. What was the point of saving money or making healthy
choices if I was going to be dead. My attitude was one of go out there and seize the day. Do what you want, when you want. There are times
when this can be a very healthy attitude and a positive way to live if what you are doing is claiming your life and not being self destructive. I was
self destructive.

Thanks to some therapy and very good friends around the age of twenty-five the majority of my self-destructive behavior stopped. I still eat more
then I should and I do not exercise as much as I should but I am no longer courting or testing death. Additionally I believe that I have come to
terms with death not just my own but those that I love and by coming to terms with death I have freed myself from my obsession with death.

It is only through accepting death that we can really live. In our modern society we fight death. When we talk about someone dying we tend to
frame it as if dying was failure. Dying is not failure nor is it success it is just death. Something that will happen to every single one of us currently
alive. I knew that I had accepted death as an inevitable when I was flying home from a trip someplace wonderful. The plane hit a terrible patch of
turbulence. The overhead compartments flew open, people were screaming and saying a few prayer and I just sat there. I did not panic, I did not
bargain all I said was "thank you", thank you to whatever is out there for my life it has truly been an extraordinary life.

I am loved and have loved. I was blessed to have been born in a time and a country that values the lives of females. I have accomplished many
of my goals, earning a graduate degree, trying to positively impact others, I have had the time, energy, opportunity and skills to really learn who I
was - what I wanted - what I believed. Not what I was taught to believe but what I really believed. I have traveled and read amazing books. I have
witnessed birth and death. Triumph and despair. I have really lived so in those few seconds when I thought I might die I was Ok.

I have no idea what is going to happen to my soul/spirit when I die. I like to think that my consciousness will go on that I will get to "see" and "be"
with those that I have loved while I have been alive but I do not know. But what I do know is that without death we would never really live

DEMENTIA SUCKS

hate Dementia.  I hate what it has done to one of the people I love most in the world.  I hate what it
has done to my family and I hate what it has done to the way I view the world and God.  I have led a
fairly blessed life.  No one beat or rape me when I was a child.  I always had a roof over my head
and food on the table.  I was loved and had enough innate talent that I was able to get an education
and make a living.  While I knew the world was not really fair I thought if I followed most of the rules
I along with the ones I loved would be protected.  I was wrong.

Dementia creeped into my life.  When it first appeared I thought it might be depression or maybe a
little too many prescription pills or a few extra drinks on a Friday night but unfortunately for me
and all others in my family I was wrong.  What we were dealing with was full blown Dementia and
the downward spiral began and has continued and continued and continued.  People can live for
decades with dementia in fact caregivers might die before the patient due to the stress and the
heartbreak and the exhaustion of caring for a loved one with Dementia.

Before dementia entered my life I always thought that hope was a gift.  Something that could be
held onto in times of darkness and despair but hope and dementia do not go together.  Dementia
may progress slowly or come on all at once either way it is a nightmare.  When it comes on slowly
you can have hours or days with a person where they are "their old selves"  you begin to think
that maybe the rages and the incontinence and the confusion were all a mistake.  That the doctors
were wrong and that your loved one is going to be OK and then BAM the confusion the rage and
all the other symptoms come back and you start the grieving process all over again.  Even when
the dementia comes on suddenly for most sufferers there are moments of lucidity moments that
give you hope.  Doctors and nurses and other caregivers tell you to grab onto and hold these
moments close, cherish these moments.  This is much easier said then done as because as soon
as you hold onto them they are taken away and you have to bury the person again.  In fact with
dementia you bury the patient over and over and over again and yet you never get closure
because the person is still here the body and the voice and the energy is still here but the spirit is
gone the soul is stuck between here and there and it is awful.

The toll it takes on a family is one that if people are not careful may never be healed.  There is the
financial cost of caring for your loved one which in all honesty is nothing compared to the
emotional toll.   Siblings can become resentful each one believing that they are the only one
carrying the burden.  Spouses can become exhausted.  Throw in divorce with second and third
spouses, step children, half siblings, old hurts and it is a recipe for disaster.

Maybe when it is all over these hurts can be forgotten and forgiven.  Maybe old memories can
come back to replace the years that are stolen I do not know.  My experience with dementia is
on-going it has not ended I am ready for it to end even though I know that the end will mean death.  
Dementia is a living death and at this point in time I would rather have a real death then what feels
like a never ending living death.



ME AND MONEY

TO SAY I DO NOT HAVE A HEALTHY RELATIONSHIP WITH MONEY IS AN UNDERSTATEMENT -
SO HERE I GO AGAIN PUTTING ALL THE INSANITY OUT THERE TO SHARE WITH OTHERS - I
PROMISE I WILL NOT TELL THAT MANY OF YOU WHO READ THIS SHARE THIS PARTICULAR
INSANITY - PEACE  KTO

I envy those who do not worry about money and would like to be let in on all of their secrets.  Me, I
worry about money, all the time.  I worried when I had it that I would lose it and I did and now I
worry about not having it.  For me it is a vicious cycle.  I have a job one that seven out of ten days I
like.  I make a decent living I also have buckets of debt.  Some of this debt is responsible debt
student loans and a mortgage.  Some of my debt is irresponsible debt credit cards and my credit
card debt is stagnate.  I try and pay it down but then I need something like a new radiator hose or a
cap for my front tooth and so it climbs.

I have a number of mantra's I use when I get into an OCD mode about money.  I tell myself it is just
an illusion which is a truth.  Money is paper that is given value.  It is an illusion that the majority of
us embrace but the reality is that it truly is just paper.  I also tell myself that all will be well and to
trust.  Based on my history and background I do not really believe myself when I say these things
but at three in the morning when I cannot sleep because I am worried about paying my mortgage
and my taxes and my father's life insurance and the electricity bill and my credit cards I just keep
repeating "all will be well" while I wait for the ambien to kick in and allow me to escape my financial
worries for at least a few hours.

When I get into really crazy mode about money I have a few other actions I take to help eleviate
some of the stress.  I can completely gage the level of my personal insanity around money based
on how many lottery tickets I buy in a week.  If I am feeling confident and hopeful I can pass by the
ticket both without a glance.  If I am in a current state of worry I stop and then I pray and yes I really
pray.  Please God let this lottery ticket change my life, let me be the lucky one.  So far it has not
worked.  The most I have ever won was three hundred dollars which is a lot of money in one fell
swoop but it you match it against how much money I have spent on tickets I am totally and
completely in the hole.

I do have a few activities which really do allow me to worry less about money.  These are much
harder to do then taking ambien or buying lottery tickets. With that said they also tend to work
much better.  The first is to really meditate.  To sit quietly and let my worry wash over me to figure
out where the true anxiety is coming from to acknowledge and respect the real issue and then to
let it go - much easier said then done.  My dad's life insurance must be paid every three months
and for the three weeks leading up to the payment my anxiety just rises and rises.  I tell myself
because I do not have the money blah, blah, blah.  The real reason is that paying his insurance
makes me face his mortality and my own.  I am in my forties and no one I have ever loved has died.  
I realize this is a miracle and an amazing gift yet I have no practice with death so the real issue is
what am I going to do when my dad dies and for this I have no answer.  So I have to breath and
trust and pray and it is much easier to worry about money then my dad dying.

Another way to truly attack my money worries is to do something to make more money.  Once
again MUCH harder then taking anxiety drugs and/or buying lottery tickets.  I have the skills to
teach and tutor both of which I have done. I have the ability to write and budget both of which I
have done but this is hard.  It means that my time is not my own and I have to practice delayed
gratification and neither is my favorite activity.  I have a hard job and I feel entitled to have what I
want when I want it and to not have to do any extra work for it.  This is the attitude of a three year
old or a selfish adult since I am not three I must admit I am selfish.  Not a pleasant realization but
the truth.  

The last behavior that I can engage in to get out of my head and stop worrying about money is to
count my blessings and the reality is that I am blessed beyond belief.  I have people in my life that I
love and people who love me.  I have a home, I do not love it but it comes with running water and
electricity and a roof.  I have my health and the people who matter most to me are healthy.  I have
never gone hungry a day in my life.  I have never been the victim of a violent crime.  I do not live in
a war zone and the list goes on and on and on.  So if you are a money worrier and most of us are
try some of these suggestions.  They may or may not work for you and if they do work foryou
unfortunately doing them once is not likely to cure your worries forever.  It is an on-going forever
process but one that does allow growth and gratitude and if you are very lucky a few moments of
peace.







PLACING AUTISTIC TEENS ON BIRTH CONTROL

I have been trying to write this and be politically correct at the same time and the reality is that is not possible.  It is not
politically correct to say that certain individuals or groups should not be allowed to have children but the reality IS that
individuals who are incapable of caring for themselves should not be allowed to have children and the other politically
incorrect reality is that some individuals who have autism cannot care for themselves so not only is birth control
appropriate for some autistic teens in many cases it is absolutely necessary to ensure the physical and emotional
well-being of autistic teens and to ensure that children who will not be able to be cared for do not enter the world.  One
more politically incorrect statement before I get to my argument, when we are talking about autistic teens and birth
control we are really talking about girls.  The reality is that except for sterilization there are no reliable methods of birth
control that prevent a man from impregnating a woman and sterilization is not legal in the United States unless the
person being sterilized consents and the teens we are talking about are not able to consent.  If these children were
able to consent to these procedures then society  and/or parents and caregivers would not have to step in and make
these decisions.

There are many levels of autism and while some who have been  function at relatively normal levels and will be able to
live relatively normal lives there are others who have severe limitations due to their illness that render them incapable
of communicating and/or performing basic daily activities.  The individuals who are most affected by autism deserve to
be protected and the  part of the way we can protect is to make sure that there are not unwanted sexual encounters
and unwanted pregnancies.  

While there are many out there in the community who dedicate their entire professional careers to working with
individuals with autism not to mention the scores of parents who get up everyday and do all that they can to protect
their children some times very bad things happen and one of these very bad things can be sexual assault.  Sexual
assault is not completely preventable.  Sexual predators tend to be cowards and bullies often choosing victims who are
incapable of protecting themselves.  Individuals with autism especially females are at increased risk and while we as a
society may not be able to protect them from everything today we do have the medical information and knowledge to
protect them from pregnancy and this is  our responsibility.  It is not a question of individual rights and freedoms.  It is
not an issue of race or eugenics it is an issue of compassion.  Compassion for those who can not care for themselves.

Think of an autistic teen who cannot communicate, cannot perform basic daily tasks.  Who may not be able to go to
the bathroom by themselves or may become frightened during their menstrual cycle and then think about the
emotional impact a pregnancy may have on this individual.  A parent who caregiver who decides to put a child on birth
control is often making a choice from a place of love not from a place of control and this choice needs to be
acknowledged and applauded not condemned.  

Autism is now a disease that will strike one in one hundred children and as these children become teenagers and
adults, we as a society must address the issues that these children and adults will face and one of the most pressing is
sexual reproduction so yes birth control must be available to these teens and the decisions about the use of birth
control needs to be left to parents and caregivers who work with doctors to ensure that good decisions, decisions that
are made from a place of education and love are allowed and protected



BEING FAT

I CANNOT BELIEVE I AM POSTING THIS BUT WHAT THE HELL - PLEASE BE KIND WITH THE COMMENTS

I am not going to tell you how much I weigh but I have struggled with my weight since I was a teenager.  As a child I was
very very skinny so skinny that my doctor told my parents to basically let me eat whatever I wanted and to say my
choices were not fabulous is an understatement.  I chose oreo's and milk, lots of candy and soda.   My diet was a
disaster.  But after about three years I was no longer skinny enough to be below the charts for my age and height.

Then something shocking happened.  I hit puberty and I continued to eat cookies and ice cream and cake.  I continued
to drink soda and other high calorie beverages and as shocking as it seems I got FAT.   By this time my parents were
in the middle of a divorce so the reality is they were both too busy trying to deal with their lives to really give my life any
real thought.  In order to avoid the pain of the divorce and the demise of my family I ate more.  Food was tasty.  It did
not judge me and the reality is I ate so much so often that I was physically uncomfortable and when I was physically
uncomfortable I did not have to deal with my emotions.  When my stomach was killing me I did not have the mental
energy to feel the heartbreak.  I learned this lesson well and for seven years used food as a drug a way to distance
myself from my emotions.

When I was around twenty-two I found different ways to distance myself from my emotions.  Not a single alternative was
healthy or life affirming however there was one side effect that was fantastic and this was I lost weight and I lost a large
amount quickly.  This got my parents attention and god bless them instead of asking themselves how I could be losing
so much weight so quickly my father offered to pay me five-hundred dollars if I got down to one-hundred and
twenty-five pounds.  I am 5'8.  I took him up on his offer and in know time I had gotten my five hundred dollars and
surprisingly this money was gone in about forty-eight hours and I had nothing to show for my windfall.  No one asked
me where the money went.

Fast forward nine months.  It was late at night and I was contemplating my life and realized I had two choices to
continue down the path I was currently walking or I could move in a different direction that was much more likely to
allow me to live.  I chose life.

With life came food and I went right back into my destructive patterns.  I had not addressed the issues that led me to
eat as a teenager and I had not addressed the issues that led me to chose destructive patterns as a young adult so in
a matter of months my weight skyrocketed.  Once again bless my parents for while they did not ask how I had lost
weight so quickly or where five hundred dollars had gone in forty-eight hours they wanted to know (especially my dad)
how I had gotten so fat so quickly.  I was not going to tell them that I had given up one bad habit for another so I told
them that I did not know.  My mother stopped asking me about my weight after about a year however it was an
on-going conversation with my father until my late thirties and the only reason the conversation halted was because
one day I screamed at him to never ever ask me about my weight again.  By this time even though I was fat I had
graduated from law school, gotten married, was a step-mother to a beautiful child, had a good job and was respected
in my field and yet I still struggled with my weight.

The difference was I knew why I ate and the reasons where many.  I ate as a reward, I ate for comfort, I ate out of
anger, I ate because of anxiety, I ate because I was tired, I ate because I could not sleep.  The reality is that I ate and I
ate and I ate for any and all reasons.  I knew why I ate and yet I continued to eat.  The only saving grace was that I
also did some exercise.  I believe the exercise was the only thing that saved me from weighing over three hundred
pounds because the reality is I ate enough to weigh three hundred pounds.

When I hit forty things began to change.  The change was slow but there was a definite shift in my world view.  All of a
sudden I really did not care how I looked.  From fifteen until forty I did a very good job convincing people that I did not
care how I look and the reality is that no one has ever loved me because of my looks or wanted to be my friend
because of the way I looked so early on I did have to develop a personality which I did and which I would not trade for
the world but when I am completely honest with myself the reality is that I did care how I looked but because I was fat
and found myself so unattractive I did not bother with make-up or having my hair done or worrying about my clothes.  I
also had no mirrors in my house and I would avoid them at all costs including not going to restaurants that had mirrors
but like I said at forty there was a shift.

I wanted to be free in my body.  I wanted to walk around in a bathing suit and really not care what people thought
instead of just pretending I did not care.  I also wanted to be healthy and be at peace with my body.  So with a change
in my attitude came a change in my behavior.  The first thing I did was switch to an all organic diet and there was a
very large part of me that wanted to believe that if I stopped eating pesticides and other toxins the weight would just
drop off and would no longer be an issue.  This did not happen.  But I felt better.  The next step was to start taking
probiotics.  Once again I thought if I just clean out my system I will be in great shape and the weight will disappear.  It
did not but all of my stomach problems did and this was life changing.  My next step was to join a gym and get a
personal trainer.  This helped a little I lost a few pounds but I hated it.  The gym was noisy and lifting weights was
boring and the reality is that I thought since I was burning so many calories I could eat whatever I wanted.  Guess what
this is not true.  So after losing about four pounds my weight stayed stagnant and I quit.

Then I found yoga specifically bikram yoga and everything changed.  If you have not Bikram before let me tell you a
little something about it.  You do it in a room that is surrounded by mirrors.  The room is heated to 105 degrees.   The
only person who speaks is the instructor and you sweat.  I loved it.  With that said I still avoided mirrors a real talent
when you are surrounded but I looked at the ceiling and at other people and at the floor really anywhere but at myself.  
Then I had a private lesson.  The first thing my instructor told me was that I needed to look in the mirror.  I pretended
to be confused of course I was looking in the mirror.  My instructor was very patient and very firm and told me that I
was not looking in the mirror and that until I looked in the mirror I would never really be able to see myself and that until
I really saw myself I would not move forward.  I looked in the mirror.  It was not easy and I did not like what I saw but I
realized this was it - it was me in the mirror.  My bad hair, my stomach that was quite large and very white (as if had
never seen the light of day and yes I was able to see it because I only wore shorts and a sports bra remember the
room was 105 degrees way to hot to wear a t-shirt) my skinny legs and my flat butt.  It was all there on display and then
there was a miracle.  It was all OK.  I also saw my eyes which were full of humor and intelligence.  I saw my hands that
held and loved babies.  I saw my arms that carried groceries it was me in the mirror and while the picture may not have
been perfect the life was pretty damn nice.

Since I saw myself for probably the first time in my life I have lost fifteen pounds.   I stand up straighter.  I am learning
to love my body.  I can see changes and most importantly I no longer have to hide and since I do not have to hide I
know longer need to eat.  For the first time in my life I have a healthy relationship with food.  I eat what I want when I am
hungry.  I know longer have to eat as if there is no tomorrow.  As if I will not have another opportunity to have creme
brulee or an ice cream sundae.   For me for the first time there is a tomorrow and it is a tomorrow where I still hope to
weigh less then today but also one where I see myself.


Foster care is when a child can no longer live with his or her parents and/or family due to issues of abuse and
neglect.  Many of the children in foster care end up in foster care because their parents are fighting mental
illness, have issues with substance abuse and or have intellectual limitations.

Kids come into care from birth up until 18.  States have the ability to provide services to children until the age of
21.  This is a state by state decision and the reality is that kids cannot be forced to receive services and many
chose to leave as soon as they turn 18.  For others they are asked to leave because they are not in school or
working and they have behavioral issues that make if very hard for local departments to maintain these kids in
placements and the placements that are available can be very expensive.  Some run up to 100,000 dollars or
more a year and the reality is just because a placement is expensive does not mean that a child is receiving
amazing services in fact my personal experience has been that kids who are in family settings with family
responsibilities and supports are much more likely to be successful.

All kids in foster care have a social worker.  The studies that have been done show that in order for the best
outcomes for children social workers would not have more then 12-15 kids on their case loads.  Most social
workers I know carry case loads that exceeds thirty-five children.  This works out to about one hour a week per
child and I must tell you that every worker has "challenging" children ones that take more then an hour a week.  
These kids tend to bomb out of placement or engage in criminal activities.  These kids need extra time and
energy and what this means is that the kids who are not causing issues are often likely to be ignored.  The
workers do not want to ignore them and in fact often carry huge burdens of guilt but the reality is that they do not
have enough time or the resources so this is where the public MUST come in to fill in the gaps.  Recently
Angelina Jolie stated that we share the burdens of displaced refugees and children who are orphaned.  She is
correct.  We are all responsible but our responsibility is not just outside of our borders our responsibilities may
be and often are two miles from our home.  Money helps.  Supporting non-profits who work with abused and
neglected helps but the biggest help the greatest gift that you can give is your time and your energy and I know
that it is not easy to give time or energy.  We are all tapped out from our own lives, our own jobs, our own kids
but we have to make time for those who have no one to fight for or speak for them.

You can volunteer as a mentor.  This can be a five hour a month commitment.  You just have to be available to
see the youth your mentor a couple of times a month.  Take him or her out to dinner or to a museum or a show or
a concert.  Expose them to things they might never see without you.  You can also work as a CASA volunteer -
CASA stands for Court Appointed Special Advocates - google them they are a child's voice in the courts system.  
Go and volunteer in a low income school.  Two hours a month.  Sit and read with a child.  Give the child a hug.  
Tell him or her that he is loved that he matters that the future is not only dark.  Work with your church or other
civic organization. Be creative

You must remember that the kids who are forgotten today are going to be the adults of tomorrow.  Often times
the ones with issues.  The one's who cause YOUR community to have to build more jails.  Deal with the issue of
homelessness, teen pregnancy and mental health issues.  So step in today in order to save tomorrow.
Stress, I think this may be what actually kills me.  It may come in the form of a heart attack or a stroke but the
real reason will be stress.  I am stressed out and have been since I was a kid waiting for my beloved father to
get home after a night of drinking.  I would lie in bed and bargain with God explaining that I would
demonstrate my love for him/God by staying awake until I heard the garage door open and my dad walk in the
house.  I was exhausted through most of my childhood but at eight I really and truly thought staying awake
when tired was a true sacrifice one that God would and could appreciate and that my sacrifice would keep my
dad alive.  

In my mid forties I intellectually understand what I was doing and that my staying awake was not what kept my
dad alive but even today when someone I love is more then fifteen minutes late it is very easy for me to go
into panic mode.  I have a physical reaction.  I sweat, my stomach churns and I feel as if I cannot catch my
breath.  My cortisone levels shoot up and I forget to breath.  I am lucky that I have friends and a husband who
understand and accept this small piece of insanity in my make-up and they have learned to call and keep me
informed if they are going to be late but my initial reaction is still panic.

I also have a very stressful job.  One that most people would run away from within twenty-four hours because
it is so insane and there is so little upside.  NOT ME.  I relish the insanity.  It is where I feel most at home.  
Where there is chaos and disaster and failure over and over.  I work as an attorney for a local department of
social services.  All of the kids in my City who have been abused and neglected come through my office.  I
have seen children used as human ashtrays.  I have seen children die from blunt trauma caused by their
parents.  I have seen children who were exposed to so many drugs and so much alcohol in utero that they
cannot speak or go to the bathroom by themselves.   I have seen the worst of humanity and yet I stay because
while I want to get my stress under control I am addicted to the insanity and chaos.  The stress has made me
overweight, cranky and many days I hate humanity and yet I stay.

I have spent the last decade trying to get a handle on my stress.  I have been in therapy which was extremely
helpful.  It allowed me to recognize my triggers and by recognizing my triggers most of the time I am able to
talk myself off the ledge and remember that I am not all knowing and powerful and that all will be well.  I have
also found a few pharmaceuticals that have changed my life.  For a long time I was embarrassed about having a
need to take medication and I resisted.  It is still not something I freely share with people.  There is a part of
my that is ashamed that I need a little help in the serotonin department and yet the medication has been truly
life changing.  

Before I took medication I was obsessed with death and dying.  Every time I drove over a bridge I thought that
I would have a heart attack, drive across four lanes of traffic, fly off the bridge and land in a fiery heap and
end up a quadriplegic.  I never died in my oh so pleasant thoughts of disaster just became injured in a way that
would take away all personal control.  Therapy helped me realize the underlying issues. CONTROL CONTROL
CONTROL.  Medicine helped me stop the thoughts.

Another way I have tried to get a handle on my stress is through exercise.  The exercise works just as well as
the medication the problem is that it is much easier to take a pill then it is to get myself to the gym everyday.  
I try and try and fail and fail and then retry.  I had a very good run recently where I exercised everyday for
sixty-seven days.  I lost weight.  I felt good.  I was proud of myself.  I have done nothing in the past seven
weeks except gain back the weight I lost.  I will try again and have no doubt that I will be successful for at
least a little while, maybe this time it will stick I do not know.

Additional steps I have taken have included getting really beautiful bedding and having aromatherapy candles
in my bedroom.  Getting rid of much of the excess in my home and trying to live with less.  I keep gratitude
lists and I know that I am truly blessed beyond belief.  I am loved and love, I have a home and health
insurance.  No one is bombing my neighborhood.  All very good things.  I have also come to accept at the
tender age of middle age that I am wired for stress.  It is my default position due to my history and that while I
will continue to do what I can to get a handle on it so long as I am me i will never really be stress free.  I may
have moments where my mind is at peace and my stress level is low but I do not think I will ever be stress free.
 So I have to do the best I can everyday and most importantly give myself a break for not being able to go with
the flow.