Alright, so the title is to just get you to read my blog. I love that you can see the stats on your blog now. The other day I titled one of my entries, "Masturbation and other stuff," and my blog got more hits than it ever has. I guess most people don't want to read blogs about religion or the understanding of psychosis. It is awfully telling in that way, how even as advanced as we are as a society, people would much rather read about a girl masturbating than about a girl figuring out the intricacies of how her brain functions.
I've had a lot on my mind lately, but I keep experiencing overwhelming happiness in my life and the people in it that I get a little wrapped up in the pure pleasure of just enjoying it. I often find that I can really let loose when all sad things happen in my life, but I don't just sit back and admire the great qualities of joy.
The other day I sent an e-mail to my friend Christi and told her that I felt that God had saved my life by having me fired from Hy-Vee. I really think He saw all the effort and dedication I was putting into my work, but that was slowly making me ill. I seriously had a bottle of Tums in my drawer because of the heartburn I had every day. One of my co-workers suggested it might be because I like coffee so much. Yeah, coffee causes heartburn, but I'm gonna go out on a limb and say now that it was the stress of the job. I still drink coffee and the other night was the first time I reached for some Tums, and only because I had too much fudge after church! It was so good though.
Speaking of church: working for it may not pay well and I don't have a lot of hours, but it is so rewarding. I love all the people that I work with and those who come to me for advice or for their needs. I really think my calling in this life is to serve others. I love being able to make other people's projects successful. I, of course set goals for myself, but I think one of my goals is to help others reach theirs. Maybe I should have been a teacher. Who knows? But I love my job and I love doing my photography. Things are a little slow right now, but I do believe that I am in the right area to pursue my career or my "hobby-career."
Along with work, I also have the great pleasure of assisting my grandparents. I really love helping them and I feel it is what I should do as they have played such a significant and positive role in my life. I don't know what life would be like if I would not have had my grandfather when I was a child. He is the most amazing man in the world; his capacity for loving is a bottomless abyss! Seriously, his eyes light up when he talks about his family. He cares so much for every single person that has descended from him and my grandmother. It is remarkable that at 86 years of age, he can still have so much patience for living and joy for this life. He hasn't become angry with the many obstacles and tragedies life has given him. He may be a little slower and confused, but still has a reason for living. I should really just dedicate an entire blog to him. He really is, as I mentioned before, the most amazing, not interesting, but definitely amazing man in the world. Maybe a little too practical for his own good sometimes though!!! I love him so much. Being with him and my grandmother as they grow older has given me reason to not take life for granted. I am blessed and grateful that I can be of service to them.
And for new friends. I couldn't be happier about the people I have been spending some time with lately. I had been hermitting myself away for a long while and it has been good to get out into the community and meet new people. Everyone I've met has had some of the best energy I have felt in a long while. New ideas, new thoughts, new everything. I'm grateful for this and I'm grateful that I have been willing to get myself out more. No more hiding away, I need to be with people every once in a while. Aloneness is good and I know that I can be comfortable in mine, but I need to be comfortable among my fellow humans too!
I think the word that best describes me and my state is bliss. I am blissful, enjoying life, taking pleasure in my everyday doings and finding joy in everything and everybody.
I guess that's my kind of sex, drugs and rock 'n roll.
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Julie Christine
Dearest Julie,
Today I embark on a project that I dedicate to you. I asked your girls for consent, but you are my mother's sister, my grandmother's daughter, my aunt, my godmother... so I embark regardless. I think about you everyday and think of how God gets you all to himself these days. We all know that you are watching out for us, making our lives a little more bearable. We miss you so much, but know you are free now from the pain the last years of your life must have brought you. Through your dedication to life, we lives ours fully.
Fly with the Angels Julie, we love you forever!
Your niece... Angela Christine xoxo
Today I embark on a project that I dedicate to you. I asked your girls for consent, but you are my mother's sister, my grandmother's daughter, my aunt, my godmother... so I embark regardless. I think about you everyday and think of how God gets you all to himself these days. We all know that you are watching out for us, making our lives a little more bearable. We miss you so much, but know you are free now from the pain the last years of your life must have brought you. Through your dedication to life, we lives ours fully.
Fly with the Angels Julie, we love you forever!
Your niece... Angela Christine xoxo
Friday, December 3, 2010
Masturbation and other stuff
I went to a Dear Diary session tonight that a friend of mine invited me to. I went alone as I do most things and it was a really nice gathering. However, it left me a bit depressed because it really did confirm that I had a much different experience as a teenager.
The last reading I heard was from a girl who had written about "boinging" herself at about age 12 or 13. Maybe that's a bit young, but then again maybe not. I remember the summer I was to turn 16, I spent the majority of it in Kansas City with my cousin Beth. She was beyond boy crazy and I... was not. Uncle Bernie had installed AOL on his computer and we soon became addicted to chat rooms and Instant Messages. This was probably the first time I'd ever seen people my age (Beth was actually probably 12 or 13) talking in sexual language to each other. Beth talked about making out and the most I had done with a boy was kiss him on the cheek during a football game the year before. Actually, that's not true. The summer I turned 15, I spent in Ecuador and one evening I made out with a boy by the name of Mauricio. After the encounter, I was depressed for months for my actions. I felt that I had done something completely wrong. In retrospect, I'm guessing I felt depressed about it because I didn't like him and basically felt that I had to make out with him. I was not attracted to any boys at 14, and therefore nowhere near sexually attracted to them. I never would have thought about looking at the poster of Jonathan Brandis that hung over my bed and "boinging" myself. I did things because I knew that they were things that other girls did. By all accounts, I was normal.
Obviously I wasn't. I wouldn't be writing about this unless I was.
My mother was my protector. Most girls were having arguments with their mothers and were constantly at odd with their parents in general. I never felt that way. I don't think I could have survived my teenage years without my mother being around. I was afraid of everything. Every now and then I broke out of my shell and showed my braveness, but most of the time, I was Mommy's little girl.
I have known from a young age that my mother had me when she was a week away from being 18. Sex, therefore has always scared the hell out of me. I think my distrust in men (especially after having been abused by two much older men when I was about 10-11) has kept me from really enjoying their company or being sexual with them. I'm not going to go into my "Daddy issues," because obviously the majority of the "father" types in my life have let me down and is something I work on constantly with my therapist...blah blah blah." Back to the sex part, I have always been uncomfortable with sex with men. I am not attracted to women, so I know it's not a sexual identity thing. I never boinged myself until I was almost 19 years old. I was so terrified by the feeling that I didn't do it again until I was probably 25/26. I didn't know what that feeling was (an orgasm). I felt dirty and I felt that it would lead me being a slut and getting it on with guys.
I met Kent the year I turned 20. He was the most beautiful man I had ever seen. He was 22 and I was bound and determined that he would be mine. I had sex with him the summer we dated and never once saw his penis. Needless to say I didn't enjoy it. I didn't have sex with anyone until the next summer (or maybe even two years after that). I just wasn't interested and the fact that I always thought I was pregnant drove me crazy (I was on the pill AND he always wore condoms). And I will say, I only had sex with Kent because, well, that's what you're supposed to do when you go to college. All my girlfriends from HS were doing it, so I figured I should too right?
The first guy I had sex with that I really wanted to was Graham. He was the first guy I ever had an orgasm with, okay I had an orgasm twice with him in the 9 months we dated, and the 6 months that we were having sex. I was in LOVE with this man. It was the first time I actually felt sexual enough to be with someone. However, I was 25 years old and I think all my repressed hormones came flooding into my brain along with the Depo Provera. which repressed the hormones that were trying to release. I thought Depo would be phenomenal for my phobia of becoming pregnant. I lost my mind in November of 2005. I really don't think my brain could deal with the overwhelming desires I had, or handle those feelings of wanting that I had buried or neglected to be aware of when I was younger. Depo + unreleased hormones = BAD combination! I went into a deep depression which has taken me several years to overcome. I'm still working on it and I must say that I have a deeper understanding of myself now then I did when I was 26 and breaking up with Graham.
I am 32 now, I take anti-depressants that repress my libido. I have had orgasms since, but very small ones. I feel like I deserve to enjoy sex. A lot of women talk about their awesome sex in thirties, and well, I want that too!
What was I doing when I was 13 years old? I was playing Barbies with Vanessa. At 14, I would stand in the garage at our house in Michigan and cry because I didn't have the nerve to talk to the kids in my neighborhood. At 18, I moved to KC... because that's what you do, you listen to your parents. It's been a long road of getting to know myself. After tonight I realized, I did mature later than most people. And there is no one to blame for my late development, only the circumstances of life was able to dictate what has happened. At least I'm aware now and can only move forward. My brain thought like that of a child during my teenage years, like a teenager in my twenties, and I think I'm finally almost caught up to my actual age. Thank God for giving me the chance to experience devastating heartbreak when I was 26 to help me realize that something in my brain had to be released.
The last reading I heard was from a girl who had written about "boinging" herself at about age 12 or 13. Maybe that's a bit young, but then again maybe not. I remember the summer I was to turn 16, I spent the majority of it in Kansas City with my cousin Beth. She was beyond boy crazy and I... was not. Uncle Bernie had installed AOL on his computer and we soon became addicted to chat rooms and Instant Messages. This was probably the first time I'd ever seen people my age (Beth was actually probably 12 or 13) talking in sexual language to each other. Beth talked about making out and the most I had done with a boy was kiss him on the cheek during a football game the year before. Actually, that's not true. The summer I turned 15, I spent in Ecuador and one evening I made out with a boy by the name of Mauricio. After the encounter, I was depressed for months for my actions. I felt that I had done something completely wrong. In retrospect, I'm guessing I felt depressed about it because I didn't like him and basically felt that I had to make out with him. I was not attracted to any boys at 14, and therefore nowhere near sexually attracted to them. I never would have thought about looking at the poster of Jonathan Brandis that hung over my bed and "boinging" myself. I did things because I knew that they were things that other girls did. By all accounts, I was normal.
Obviously I wasn't. I wouldn't be writing about this unless I was.
My mother was my protector. Most girls were having arguments with their mothers and were constantly at odd with their parents in general. I never felt that way. I don't think I could have survived my teenage years without my mother being around. I was afraid of everything. Every now and then I broke out of my shell and showed my braveness, but most of the time, I was Mommy's little girl.
I have known from a young age that my mother had me when she was a week away from being 18. Sex, therefore has always scared the hell out of me. I think my distrust in men (especially after having been abused by two much older men when I was about 10-11) has kept me from really enjoying their company or being sexual with them. I'm not going to go into my "Daddy issues," because obviously the majority of the "father" types in my life have let me down and is something I work on constantly with my therapist...blah blah blah." Back to the sex part, I have always been uncomfortable with sex with men. I am not attracted to women, so I know it's not a sexual identity thing. I never boinged myself until I was almost 19 years old. I was so terrified by the feeling that I didn't do it again until I was probably 25/26. I didn't know what that feeling was (an orgasm). I felt dirty and I felt that it would lead me being a slut and getting it on with guys.
I met Kent the year I turned 20. He was the most beautiful man I had ever seen. He was 22 and I was bound and determined that he would be mine. I had sex with him the summer we dated and never once saw his penis. Needless to say I didn't enjoy it. I didn't have sex with anyone until the next summer (or maybe even two years after that). I just wasn't interested and the fact that I always thought I was pregnant drove me crazy (I was on the pill AND he always wore condoms). And I will say, I only had sex with Kent because, well, that's what you're supposed to do when you go to college. All my girlfriends from HS were doing it, so I figured I should too right?
The first guy I had sex with that I really wanted to was Graham. He was the first guy I ever had an orgasm with, okay I had an orgasm twice with him in the 9 months we dated, and the 6 months that we were having sex. I was in LOVE with this man. It was the first time I actually felt sexual enough to be with someone. However, I was 25 years old and I think all my repressed hormones came flooding into my brain along with the Depo Provera. which repressed the hormones that were trying to release. I thought Depo would be phenomenal for my phobia of becoming pregnant. I lost my mind in November of 2005. I really don't think my brain could deal with the overwhelming desires I had, or handle those feelings of wanting that I had buried or neglected to be aware of when I was younger. Depo + unreleased hormones = BAD combination! I went into a deep depression which has taken me several years to overcome. I'm still working on it and I must say that I have a deeper understanding of myself now then I did when I was 26 and breaking up with Graham.
I am 32 now, I take anti-depressants that repress my libido. I have had orgasms since, but very small ones. I feel like I deserve to enjoy sex. A lot of women talk about their awesome sex in thirties, and well, I want that too!
What was I doing when I was 13 years old? I was playing Barbies with Vanessa. At 14, I would stand in the garage at our house in Michigan and cry because I didn't have the nerve to talk to the kids in my neighborhood. At 18, I moved to KC... because that's what you do, you listen to your parents. It's been a long road of getting to know myself. After tonight I realized, I did mature later than most people. And there is no one to blame for my late development, only the circumstances of life was able to dictate what has happened. At least I'm aware now and can only move forward. My brain thought like that of a child during my teenage years, like a teenager in my twenties, and I think I'm finally almost caught up to my actual age. Thank God for giving me the chance to experience devastating heartbreak when I was 26 to help me realize that something in my brain had to be released.
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