Oh yes... this WILL be you someday! :)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VxkHM4DUDKM
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
Saturday, December 8, 2012
Part One: The C-word
What better time than 2:45 in the morning..... to start a blog about bi-polar disorder? This is one of those subjects where I have so much to say, and yet feel that words aren't going to do justice to the road I've traveled. When people meet me now, or simply pass me in a store, or on the street, there are several things that they notice straight off. My white cane, my tattoos, and the fact that I should lay off the pasta. :) Some of them are probably a little impressed that I function pretty well, with my vision loss. At times, I've even had people use the word "inspirational", which is flattering, but a little strange for me to hear. My limitations, or my perceived limitations, are virtually broadcast to the world by a white cane, and lengthy track record of knocking things off store shelves. What people don't see, is the illness that has truly handicapped me, for most of my life.
I'm severely bi-polar, and although I'm medicated now, the illness has always ruled my life. No one knows for sure if I was born bi-polar (back in the day, we called it manic depression), but my first symptoms developed when I was two years old. Just to clarify, I was born in 1965, when people were still trying to figure out how to discuss sex and drugs, without feeling embarrassed. When I started school, in 1969, there were no programs for children with mental illness, or even disorders like ADD, ADHD, or ASD (autism spectrum disorder). As kids, we were left to the mercy of the school system, and a society that didn't even want to acknowledge mental illness in adults, never mind in children. We were labeled as "stupid" "weird" and my personal favorite, "trouble makers". I was the kid who got the coveted "trouble maker" label, which at least kept the other kids from calling me "stupid" and "weird" to my face. :)
It didn't take long for me to realize that I was different from other people, and for other people to realize that I was different from them. Not just unique or special.... but uncomfortably different. Someone who sometimes saw, and heard things they didn't. Someone who could be your friend one moment, and your worst enemy the next. Someone who could be happy and laughing one day, and sad, upset, and holding back tears the next. Until I was 13, my by polar disorder presented as "mixed state manic depression". As the name implies, I was experiencing episodes of mania and depression, over a period of hours or days, rather than weeks and months. Probably the worst thing that happened during my childhood, was the IQ test. Oh yeah, back when dinosaurs roamed the earth, we kids were given IQ tests by the school system!
The IQ test was the first, in a long line of misconceptions, that would follow me my whole life. My IQ was impressive, and I'm sure the school was thrilled to have found a "gifted student", that they could pluck from the pool of academic mediocrity. Instead, what they did was take a kid who was already struggling, put me into a confusing high pressure environment, and when I couldn't function, label me as "a lazy student, who doesn't do her best, and is disruptive and belligerent" That kind of talk really turned up the heat, both with the school, and especially with my parents! I was an only child, someone my parents already didn't understand, and now I was not only disappointing them, but as they saw it, I was doing it on purpose, just to upset them,. I lived in that haze of disapproval, and misunderstanding, from then, until I was in my early 40's. I started having the usual episodic version of the disorder when I became a teenager, and the hormones kicked in. I would have a month or so of mania, followed by several months of deep depression, with very few breaks in between. By then, I'd convinced myself that the world was right. I was weird, and lazy, and purposely being a pain in the ass, just to annoy my parents. Deep down, I knew something was wrong, but I'd given up hope. I turned to drugs and alcohol to dull the pain, made it a practice to skip school, and cause trouble. and made two unsuccessful (luckily!!) attempts at suicide.
In the hospital, after one of my suicide attempts, the doctors spoke to me about going into in-patient psychiatric care. To be honest, I was thrilled! Someone was finally going to help me, and show me there was a light at the end of the tunnel. Unfortunately, my misinformed and embarrassed parents, decided it was best for me not to go for treatment. They felt I'd be fine, if I would just "Straighten up and think positive. After all I didn't want people thinking I was CRAZY, did I?". There it was... the C-word! I could tell, just from the way they said it, that my parents were mortified that their only child would bring such an unforgivable stigma down upon them. How could they face their friends? They certainly couldn't tell anyone, but sooner or later people would find out, and they'd be labeled as "bad parents", for producing and raising such an abnormal child. In their defense, people were very misinformed about mental illness back then, and few people talked about it. When they did, it was only in whispers.
I'm ending this post here. I've given you the tale of the first 18 years of my life. If you're curious, or if this sounds familiar, or if you feel yourself in a similar position, then please read part two. This story DOES have a happy ending, not just for me, but for our society as a whole. The perceptions about mental illness are changing, and for each of us who speaks out unashamedly about our illness, there is a chance to save someone else from suffering. Now.... on to Part Two! :)
I'm severely bi-polar, and although I'm medicated now, the illness has always ruled my life. No one knows for sure if I was born bi-polar (back in the day, we called it manic depression), but my first symptoms developed when I was two years old. Just to clarify, I was born in 1965, when people were still trying to figure out how to discuss sex and drugs, without feeling embarrassed. When I started school, in 1969, there were no programs for children with mental illness, or even disorders like ADD, ADHD, or ASD (autism spectrum disorder). As kids, we were left to the mercy of the school system, and a society that didn't even want to acknowledge mental illness in adults, never mind in children. We were labeled as "stupid" "weird" and my personal favorite, "trouble makers". I was the kid who got the coveted "trouble maker" label, which at least kept the other kids from calling me "stupid" and "weird" to my face. :)
It didn't take long for me to realize that I was different from other people, and for other people to realize that I was different from them. Not just unique or special.... but uncomfortably different. Someone who sometimes saw, and heard things they didn't. Someone who could be your friend one moment, and your worst enemy the next. Someone who could be happy and laughing one day, and sad, upset, and holding back tears the next. Until I was 13, my by polar disorder presented as "mixed state manic depression". As the name implies, I was experiencing episodes of mania and depression, over a period of hours or days, rather than weeks and months. Probably the worst thing that happened during my childhood, was the IQ test. Oh yeah, back when dinosaurs roamed the earth, we kids were given IQ tests by the school system!
The IQ test was the first, in a long line of misconceptions, that would follow me my whole life. My IQ was impressive, and I'm sure the school was thrilled to have found a "gifted student", that they could pluck from the pool of academic mediocrity. Instead, what they did was take a kid who was already struggling, put me into a confusing high pressure environment, and when I couldn't function, label me as "a lazy student, who doesn't do her best, and is disruptive and belligerent" That kind of talk really turned up the heat, both with the school, and especially with my parents! I was an only child, someone my parents already didn't understand, and now I was not only disappointing them, but as they saw it, I was doing it on purpose, just to upset them,. I lived in that haze of disapproval, and misunderstanding, from then, until I was in my early 40's. I started having the usual episodic version of the disorder when I became a teenager, and the hormones kicked in. I would have a month or so of mania, followed by several months of deep depression, with very few breaks in between. By then, I'd convinced myself that the world was right. I was weird, and lazy, and purposely being a pain in the ass, just to annoy my parents. Deep down, I knew something was wrong, but I'd given up hope. I turned to drugs and alcohol to dull the pain, made it a practice to skip school, and cause trouble. and made two unsuccessful (luckily!!) attempts at suicide.
In the hospital, after one of my suicide attempts, the doctors spoke to me about going into in-patient psychiatric care. To be honest, I was thrilled! Someone was finally going to help me, and show me there was a light at the end of the tunnel. Unfortunately, my misinformed and embarrassed parents, decided it was best for me not to go for treatment. They felt I'd be fine, if I would just "Straighten up and think positive. After all I didn't want people thinking I was CRAZY, did I?". There it was... the C-word! I could tell, just from the way they said it, that my parents were mortified that their only child would bring such an unforgivable stigma down upon them. How could they face their friends? They certainly couldn't tell anyone, but sooner or later people would find out, and they'd be labeled as "bad parents", for producing and raising such an abnormal child. In their defense, people were very misinformed about mental illness back then, and few people talked about it. When they did, it was only in whispers.
I'm ending this post here. I've given you the tale of the first 18 years of my life. If you're curious, or if this sounds familiar, or if you feel yourself in a similar position, then please read part two. This story DOES have a happy ending, not just for me, but for our society as a whole. The perceptions about mental illness are changing, and for each of us who speaks out unashamedly about our illness, there is a chance to save someone else from suffering. Now.... on to Part Two! :)
Part Two: The Medicated Mind
Hopefully, I've put these posts up in the right order. This is a continuation of "The C-word" post, which I'm sure none of you read just because of the title. lol! it seems weird to me, to have part two of the post come before part one, on the blog, so I did it this way. Of course, it might be confusing for anyone reading this, if anyone does, that I have them in this order. I don't suppose, in the grand scheme of things, it even matters.
My topic in these two posts, is mental illness. Specifically, my own struggle with bi-polar disorder. I'm actually a very private person by nature, but I am making a real effort to talk about my illness, to try and eliminate the stigma that still surrounds it. I know that these days, a lot of young people are comfortable discussing things like bi-polar disorder, borderline personality disorder, and OCD. Some even discuss having schizophrenia, although I think that illness is still rather misunderstood. I can't express how happy it makes me, that many of you are growing up in a world that has a better understanding of mental illness, and cognitive disorders. I have no idea how many kids I went to school with, who were suffering the way I was, and didn't know who to turn to, or how to get help.
As I said in my other post on this subject, I've struggled with severe bi-polar disorder my whole life. My childhood was a nightmare, and my teen years were an even bigger mess, because I began to self medicate with booze and drugs. I barely made it through high school, with a GPA of less than 2.0. Because high school was such a disaster, I decided to forget college, and just get a job. I enjoyed work, but I felt that there was something missing, something more that I could offer the world. It was at that point, when I was 18, that I began dating a guy I had known my whole life (and who is now my husband of 25 years). He was going to college, and he was so happy about it. He saw beyond my illness, saw the person I could be, and encouraged me to sober up, get clean, and go back to school. I did stop my drug use, but struggled with my alcoholism for the next 15 years. Keep that in mind! Self medicating is a disaster! Once you are an alcoholic, you are ALWAYS an alcoholic, and I still struggle with that everyday. I've been sober almost 15 years now, so there is hope for everyone.
I went back to college, and discovered that there was life beyond high school. I still struggled with my illness, but I was learning for myself, and not someone else, so I had a sense of control over my destiny. I went into the teaching program, and even made the Dean's list every term. Just after starting college, I saw something that changed my life. An actress named Patty Duke gave an interview on national TV, and discussed her "manic depression" (the old school term for bi-polar disorder). I cried through the whole interview, understanding for the first time, that I wasn't alone! Other people were going through the same things that I was. I went immediately to the mental health clinic, and started treatment. Unfortunately, the drugs available back then, seriously sucked. They were constantly changing my meds, and instead of sticking it out, until I could find ones that worked, I gave up. My parents weren't supportive, I felt hopeless, and I went on to suffer for another 20 years. To this day, giving up on treatment, is the biggest regret of my life.
I went on to have three amazing children, who somehow managed to be wonderful human beings, despite growing up with a mentally ill mother. My fear and embarrassment about my illness grew, since I didn't want people to know that "someone like me" was raising children. Now, I realize how foolish I was, and how going in for treatment would have been the best thing I could have done for my kids. It wasn't until my 40's, when the hormones started acting up again, that I went back to having mixed state bi polar disorder, rather than episodes of mania and depression. It was brutal! It was at that point, that I realized my life was at risk, and sought treatment.
Many people think of mania as just being overly energetic. It's not. It's an anxiety filled state of mental unrest. You might seem happy and productive on the outside, but inside you are a whirling tornado of confusion. Likewise, people think of depression as just being sad. This couldn't be further from the truth! For most of us, suffering from bi-polar disorder, the depression is a combination of anxiety and hopelessness that is worse than physical pain. I had three babies, ranging from 9 lbs to 10 lbs, and the pain of childbirth is nothing compared to the mental pain that can come from depression, or mixed state bi-polar disorder. The pain and hopelessness, and the impact it can have on your life, isn't going to go away, by "thinking positive"! It's an illness like diabetes, or severe asthma, and it is just as life threatening!
If you have a mental illness, or suspect you do, you MUST seek treatment. This isn't something you did to yourself. It's an illness caused by chemical imbalances and electrical impulses. It's not something you chose to have, but it is something you can choose to treat. Not everyone with a mental illness needs medication, but they DO need support. The people around you need to be aware of what you're dealing with, and many times a therapist or a support group is enough to help people cope. In my case, I needed medication, and taking it has changed my life for the better. The best part being, that I now have "normal" dreams, whereas I had spent my whole life having horrible nightmares, and never knowing what restful sleep really was.
Do I still struggle with my illness? Yes, At this point, there is no cure for most mental illness, but there is help, and there is hope. You CAN feel better. There really is a light at the end of the tunnel, so don't give up without seeing it. Remember, the sooner you get help, the less of your life will be spent in pain and confusion. If you have a mental illness, or know someone who does, do the world a favor, and talk about it! Let everyone know that there is no reason for us to be ashamed of our illness, anymore than we would be ashamed of being diabetic. There are people out there who are still alone, who still feel that no one understands what they are going through, who are too afraid to get help. Don't let them spend 40 years, going it alone. If you can't speak out for yourself, then speak out for them Even if you feel the rest of the world doesn't understand, please remember that those of us with mental illness do know what you're going through, and we'll be here for you. YOU ARE NOT ALONE!
My topic in these two posts, is mental illness. Specifically, my own struggle with bi-polar disorder. I'm actually a very private person by nature, but I am making a real effort to talk about my illness, to try and eliminate the stigma that still surrounds it. I know that these days, a lot of young people are comfortable discussing things like bi-polar disorder, borderline personality disorder, and OCD. Some even discuss having schizophrenia, although I think that illness is still rather misunderstood. I can't express how happy it makes me, that many of you are growing up in a world that has a better understanding of mental illness, and cognitive disorders. I have no idea how many kids I went to school with, who were suffering the way I was, and didn't know who to turn to, or how to get help.
As I said in my other post on this subject, I've struggled with severe bi-polar disorder my whole life. My childhood was a nightmare, and my teen years were an even bigger mess, because I began to self medicate with booze and drugs. I barely made it through high school, with a GPA of less than 2.0. Because high school was such a disaster, I decided to forget college, and just get a job. I enjoyed work, but I felt that there was something missing, something more that I could offer the world. It was at that point, when I was 18, that I began dating a guy I had known my whole life (and who is now my husband of 25 years). He was going to college, and he was so happy about it. He saw beyond my illness, saw the person I could be, and encouraged me to sober up, get clean, and go back to school. I did stop my drug use, but struggled with my alcoholism for the next 15 years. Keep that in mind! Self medicating is a disaster! Once you are an alcoholic, you are ALWAYS an alcoholic, and I still struggle with that everyday. I've been sober almost 15 years now, so there is hope for everyone.
I went back to college, and discovered that there was life beyond high school. I still struggled with my illness, but I was learning for myself, and not someone else, so I had a sense of control over my destiny. I went into the teaching program, and even made the Dean's list every term. Just after starting college, I saw something that changed my life. An actress named Patty Duke gave an interview on national TV, and discussed her "manic depression" (the old school term for bi-polar disorder). I cried through the whole interview, understanding for the first time, that I wasn't alone! Other people were going through the same things that I was. I went immediately to the mental health clinic, and started treatment. Unfortunately, the drugs available back then, seriously sucked. They were constantly changing my meds, and instead of sticking it out, until I could find ones that worked, I gave up. My parents weren't supportive, I felt hopeless, and I went on to suffer for another 20 years. To this day, giving up on treatment, is the biggest regret of my life.
I went on to have three amazing children, who somehow managed to be wonderful human beings, despite growing up with a mentally ill mother. My fear and embarrassment about my illness grew, since I didn't want people to know that "someone like me" was raising children. Now, I realize how foolish I was, and how going in for treatment would have been the best thing I could have done for my kids. It wasn't until my 40's, when the hormones started acting up again, that I went back to having mixed state bi polar disorder, rather than episodes of mania and depression. It was brutal! It was at that point, that I realized my life was at risk, and sought treatment.
Many people think of mania as just being overly energetic. It's not. It's an anxiety filled state of mental unrest. You might seem happy and productive on the outside, but inside you are a whirling tornado of confusion. Likewise, people think of depression as just being sad. This couldn't be further from the truth! For most of us, suffering from bi-polar disorder, the depression is a combination of anxiety and hopelessness that is worse than physical pain. I had three babies, ranging from 9 lbs to 10 lbs, and the pain of childbirth is nothing compared to the mental pain that can come from depression, or mixed state bi-polar disorder. The pain and hopelessness, and the impact it can have on your life, isn't going to go away, by "thinking positive"! It's an illness like diabetes, or severe asthma, and it is just as life threatening!
If you have a mental illness, or suspect you do, you MUST seek treatment. This isn't something you did to yourself. It's an illness caused by chemical imbalances and electrical impulses. It's not something you chose to have, but it is something you can choose to treat. Not everyone with a mental illness needs medication, but they DO need support. The people around you need to be aware of what you're dealing with, and many times a therapist or a support group is enough to help people cope. In my case, I needed medication, and taking it has changed my life for the better. The best part being, that I now have "normal" dreams, whereas I had spent my whole life having horrible nightmares, and never knowing what restful sleep really was.
Do I still struggle with my illness? Yes, At this point, there is no cure for most mental illness, but there is help, and there is hope. You CAN feel better. There really is a light at the end of the tunnel, so don't give up without seeing it. Remember, the sooner you get help, the less of your life will be spent in pain and confusion. If you have a mental illness, or know someone who does, do the world a favor, and talk about it! Let everyone know that there is no reason for us to be ashamed of our illness, anymore than we would be ashamed of being diabetic. There are people out there who are still alone, who still feel that no one understands what they are going through, who are too afraid to get help. Don't let them spend 40 years, going it alone. If you can't speak out for yourself, then speak out for them Even if you feel the rest of the world doesn't understand, please remember that those of us with mental illness do know what you're going through, and we'll be here for you. YOU ARE NOT ALONE!
Thursday, November 29, 2012
Independence
I was inspired to write this post, by a very bright, very curious young woman, whose blog I commented on. I had been hoping for a comment on one of my posts, and what she gave me, was a full fledged letter, asking lots of questions. I like that in a person. I'll admit, my first instinct upon writing this, was to use a lot of fancy words, perfect punctuation (good luck with that!), and excellent grammar. Then I realized something. I'm writing about being independent. Independence is less a physical state, than it is a state of mind. I've always been an independent thinker, and I hope other people are too. As such, if my writing doesn't appeal to others, they have the choice not to read it. (which seems to be the action of choice, for most). What matters to me, is that I am free to write it, and since there are people out there risking their lives everyday to give me that freedom, I feel compelled to take advantage of it.
In order to make myself less creeperish to those bloggers I follow, I'll give out some personal info. I will say upfront, that sharing personal information isn't really my style, and I LOVED the idea of being a "troll", but in the interest of setting your minds to rest, I'll tell you that I'm not some freaky literature groupie. I'm the 47 year old mother, of one of Dr, Preston's English students. My Sneetchface persona was adopted, because I have a certain amount of paranoia, and a history of getting myself kicked out of public forums. I can't read print, but I have a text to speech program, that makes you all sound like female robots. (yeah guys, you too) Before my vision loss, I taught Kindergarten. Since then I spent several years working in a jewelry store we owned, and being a "domestic goddess". Personally, I'd rather be a troll. :)
On the subject of independence, I surprisingly (for once) have little to offer in the way of enlightenment. Up until a few years ago, I had guide dogs, and that gave me the independence to travel places on my own. Not far afield really, but I was able to walk to stores, and do a lot of shopping by myself. I do require some help with the shopping at times, since there is a lot of similarity between canned carrots, and canned sweet potatoes (barf!) as far as bad vision, and colored labels are concerned. Also, creamed corn is NOT as good as regular corn. Don't be fooled! I hate asking for help, or looking helpless. Worse yet, I hate FEELING helpless. Luckily, that very seldom happens, because I have something better than vision. I have an aura of confidence. I'm physically strong, imposing, and not afraid of much. Mentally, I'm a mess a lot of the time, with a lot of fears and insecurities.
I live fairly independently, asking little in the way of concessions, even from my family. I can drive, but since the DMV disagrees, and they haven't invented the Nerf car yet, I leave the driving to others. I helped my kids with their homework, before they became smarter than me (which didn't take long), and I memorized Dr. Seuss books so I could "read" to them when they were little. I don't do much cooking, or cleaning. This is not because of my vision loss, but simply because I hate doing it. I take care of my animals, and even clean the dog run. (which makes me wish I'd lost my sense of smell as well!) In short (too late!) I'm not quite as independent as some, yet more so than others.
One thing I do have, perhaps more than many people I know, is an independent spirit. I'm not shy about speaking my mind, questioning authority, making a stand, or instigating change. I vote religiously, and not by mail. I LOVE the feeling of handing in that ballot, of being part of a nation where I have a right to do that. I never take my rights, or the rights of others for granted, and I love my country, and the diversity within it. Yes, I AM a Democrat. :) My independence doesn't come from "overcoming" my blindness, it comes from deep inside me, and from being fortunate to live in a country that fosters it. Man, is it just me, or do I sound like I'm running for congress? lol! Thank you Ashlie, I enjoyed writing this.
In order to make myself less creeperish to those bloggers I follow, I'll give out some personal info. I will say upfront, that sharing personal information isn't really my style, and I LOVED the idea of being a "troll", but in the interest of setting your minds to rest, I'll tell you that I'm not some freaky literature groupie. I'm the 47 year old mother, of one of Dr, Preston's English students. My Sneetchface persona was adopted, because I have a certain amount of paranoia, and a history of getting myself kicked out of public forums. I can't read print, but I have a text to speech program, that makes you all sound like female robots. (yeah guys, you too) Before my vision loss, I taught Kindergarten. Since then I spent several years working in a jewelry store we owned, and being a "domestic goddess". Personally, I'd rather be a troll. :)
On the subject of independence, I surprisingly (for once) have little to offer in the way of enlightenment. Up until a few years ago, I had guide dogs, and that gave me the independence to travel places on my own. Not far afield really, but I was able to walk to stores, and do a lot of shopping by myself. I do require some help with the shopping at times, since there is a lot of similarity between canned carrots, and canned sweet potatoes (barf!) as far as bad vision, and colored labels are concerned. Also, creamed corn is NOT as good as regular corn. Don't be fooled! I hate asking for help, or looking helpless. Worse yet, I hate FEELING helpless. Luckily, that very seldom happens, because I have something better than vision. I have an aura of confidence. I'm physically strong, imposing, and not afraid of much. Mentally, I'm a mess a lot of the time, with a lot of fears and insecurities.
I live fairly independently, asking little in the way of concessions, even from my family. I can drive, but since the DMV disagrees, and they haven't invented the Nerf car yet, I leave the driving to others. I helped my kids with their homework, before they became smarter than me (which didn't take long), and I memorized Dr. Seuss books so I could "read" to them when they were little. I don't do much cooking, or cleaning. This is not because of my vision loss, but simply because I hate doing it. I take care of my animals, and even clean the dog run. (which makes me wish I'd lost my sense of smell as well!) In short (too late!) I'm not quite as independent as some, yet more so than others.
One thing I do have, perhaps more than many people I know, is an independent spirit. I'm not shy about speaking my mind, questioning authority, making a stand, or instigating change. I vote religiously, and not by mail. I LOVE the feeling of handing in that ballot, of being part of a nation where I have a right to do that. I never take my rights, or the rights of others for granted, and I love my country, and the diversity within it. Yes, I AM a Democrat. :) My independence doesn't come from "overcoming" my blindness, it comes from deep inside me, and from being fortunate to live in a country that fosters it. Man, is it just me, or do I sound like I'm running for congress? lol! Thank you Ashlie, I enjoyed writing this.
Saturday, November 24, 2012
To Blog, or Not to Blog
To blog, or not to blog, that is the question. It seems the answer is... "Tough crap! You have to!" At least according to some TEACHERS.
Here is where I'm having an issue. Is it right to "require" (aka "force") blogging, for a good grade in a class? Should writing out your thought and ideas, and sending them into the ether of cyberspace, make the difference between an A, or a crappy grade that will keep you out of the college of your choice? Personally, I say "Hell no!" What kind of self expression would you put into your writing, if you knew the teacher was going to make a hundred copies of your work, and post them up and down the halls of your school? I'm guessing you wouldn't be too anxious to show your sensitivity and insecurities, to the myriad of bullies and the entire football team. (unless high school has changed dramatically since I went there).
Now, some people might use the argument that, "A profile can be private" Seriously, don't kid yourselves! I recently listened to an article, that was linked to, by an English teacher. This article was a multiple paragraph tirade on the uselessness of passwords, and internet security. It seems a little ironic then, that he would REQUIRE his students to place their work into such an unstable, and unsafe environment. You see my point? I think my comments to a recent post on his classroom blog, were deleted because of safety concerns. Fair enough! Maybe even a good idea. Parent's could be nervous about a subversive, or outspoken stranger interacting with their kids. I have a kid in the class btw, and I know there is no way to keep your kid in a bubble of innocence, but I understand their reasoning.
I love blogging. Well, I love ranting really, and a blog gives me a way to do that without ranting to only my helpless family, and pets. I'm a rabble-rouser, and subversive by nature. To be honest, I might overdo it sometimes, hence my being banned from several public and private forums, both on the internet, and IRL. I have brought about change in a lot of situations though, and that makes it seem worthwhile, at least to me. I enjoy playing the devil's advocate, so sometimes I'll take the opposing view, just to be a pain in the ass.
The point I'm trying to make with this interminable diatribe, is that putting your writing, your thoughts, your ideas, into an electronic jungle of weirdos, perverts and unsafe passwords, should be OPTIONAL! If you're like me, and you don't give a damn who sees or comments on your stuff, then fine, have at it. Remember though, just because you're a high school kid, that doesn't give anyone the right to require you to share yourself with the world. It really doesn't. You all seem like geniuses to me, and I know you want to get into good colleges. It's never easy to question, or disagree with authority. I get that. I'm just saying, from my perspective, that I don't remember with fondness the times as a teenager, where I sat back, and went along with things because I felt I had to. What I remember now, are the times when I stood up for my opinions about what I thought was right, or wrong. Most importantly, I remember the times I stood up for others, when they were afraid to stand up for themselves. You have a choice, even now, to make the kind of memories you'll be proud of. Choose wisely!
Here is where I'm having an issue. Is it right to "require" (aka "force") blogging, for a good grade in a class? Should writing out your thought and ideas, and sending them into the ether of cyberspace, make the difference between an A, or a crappy grade that will keep you out of the college of your choice? Personally, I say "Hell no!" What kind of self expression would you put into your writing, if you knew the teacher was going to make a hundred copies of your work, and post them up and down the halls of your school? I'm guessing you wouldn't be too anxious to show your sensitivity and insecurities, to the myriad of bullies and the entire football team. (unless high school has changed dramatically since I went there).
Now, some people might use the argument that, "A profile can be private" Seriously, don't kid yourselves! I recently listened to an article, that was linked to, by an English teacher. This article was a multiple paragraph tirade on the uselessness of passwords, and internet security. It seems a little ironic then, that he would REQUIRE his students to place their work into such an unstable, and unsafe environment. You see my point? I think my comments to a recent post on his classroom blog, were deleted because of safety concerns. Fair enough! Maybe even a good idea. Parent's could be nervous about a subversive, or outspoken stranger interacting with their kids. I have a kid in the class btw, and I know there is no way to keep your kid in a bubble of innocence, but I understand their reasoning.
I love blogging. Well, I love ranting really, and a blog gives me a way to do that without ranting to only my helpless family, and pets. I'm a rabble-rouser, and subversive by nature. To be honest, I might overdo it sometimes, hence my being banned from several public and private forums, both on the internet, and IRL. I have brought about change in a lot of situations though, and that makes it seem worthwhile, at least to me. I enjoy playing the devil's advocate, so sometimes I'll take the opposing view, just to be a pain in the ass.
The point I'm trying to make with this interminable diatribe, is that putting your writing, your thoughts, your ideas, into an electronic jungle of weirdos, perverts and unsafe passwords, should be OPTIONAL! If you're like me, and you don't give a damn who sees or comments on your stuff, then fine, have at it. Remember though, just because you're a high school kid, that doesn't give anyone the right to require you to share yourself with the world. It really doesn't. You all seem like geniuses to me, and I know you want to get into good colleges. It's never easy to question, or disagree with authority. I get that. I'm just saying, from my perspective, that I don't remember with fondness the times as a teenager, where I sat back, and went along with things because I felt I had to. What I remember now, are the times when I stood up for my opinions about what I thought was right, or wrong. Most importantly, I remember the times I stood up for others, when they were afraid to stand up for themselves. You have a choice, even now, to make the kind of memories you'll be proud of. Choose wisely!
Friday, November 23, 2012
Dr. Preston, Friend or Foe?
I'm sure a lot of you out there consider Dr. Preston to be the best teacher you've ever had. (not counting that teacher you had a crush on in first grade) I don't know him personally, but from everything I've heard, he deserves your admiration and respect. I'll be honest here, he scares the crap out of me! He's been successful in the business world, and the world of academia as well. He's smart, and funny, and well read, and to top it all off, he sounds decently cool. (show off) The sad truth is, he intimidates me. Could he out-bullshit me, or beat me at arm wrestling? Probably not. Could he compete with me when it comes to ranting? I seriously doubt it. However, in the grand scheme of things, he's basically going to make me look bad. As a kid I loved to read! I would read a couple of books a week, and I could write a pretty kickass book report. (usually in the bus, on the way to school) For the last twenty five years though, I've been limited to audio books, due to my vision loss. For someone like me, an unabridged book on CD, is a big luxury. Getting an audio book from the library is no picnic either. Once you've gone as long as I have, without seeing print, your spelling and punctuation go to hell. Strike one for me. Twenty years of being a housewife, (I prefer the term "domestic goddess") has left my social, and conversational skills, pretty rusty. Strike two. Having very few friends, and even less contact with strangers, makes me suspicious , and paranoid. Strike three! I'm out. There have been things that Dr, Preston has said or done, that I really loved. There have been other times, when I have ranted for half an hour straight, when his words, or actions, really pissed me off! I have to say, for someone I've never met, Dr. Preston seems to have impacted my life, to an extent. I guess that says a lot about him, and I think he deserves props for it. Is he a friend, or a foe? Maybe it doesn't matter, since I'm not even a blip on his radar. Still, I think maybe a friend is someone you can get pissed at, and still respect. I guess I'll go with "friend".
UPDATE!!!
I left a couple of threaded comments on the lit class blog, and now they're gone. Conspiracy? You be the judge :)
UPDATE!!!
I left a couple of threaded comments on the lit class blog, and now they're gone. Conspiracy? You be the judge :)
Thursday, November 22, 2012
Suck It Facebook
I just thought I'd point out to everyone who stumbled across this blog by accident (you know you did!), that I will NOT be asking you to "Like me on Facebook". The fact is..... NOBODY likes me on Facebook. Hell, even Facebook itself, doesn't like me! True story! I've been banned from Facebook. Banished. Exiled. Cast out. into the faceless, nameless, postless purgatory of the Facebook rejects. Now, I'm unable to post 50 pics of my cat, wearing funny hats, with captions such as "I looks purrrrdy" or "I likezez my hatzez". I have no way to inform my friends and family about life changing events, like how the weather is here, where I'd like to go on vacation, and how much it cost to get the car repaired. Saddest of all, I am unable to update my close, not so close, and incredibly remote friends, and loved ones, concerning my current standings in Texas Hold'em Poker, or Animal Farm. (yeah yeah... I think that's the wrong name, but again, I'm not on fricken Facebook!) That's right people, no sending cartoon animal pics, or birthday balloon drawings, or 'pokes", for me. So, what does this mean for you... the innocent blog reader? It means that you can't "Like me on Facebook", and I can't "Like you on Facebook" either. The good news is, I can't "Dislike you on Facebook", and lets face it.... don't I just seem like someone who would?
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
A Jury of Your Peers?
Here's a thought. "who is the best judge of your writing, or your thoughts on writing?" Interesting question right? Is it your parents? Well, they have known you all your life, and they do know a lot about your life experiences. They pretty much know how your mind works (when it works), and let's face it.... they are SO totally cool! Okay yeah, they aren't! Plus, it's been awhile since they had to navigate the treacherous hallways of a high school. So, maybe it's your teachers? After all, they've been well educated in the subject. They know all about high school, since they are forced to go there everyday, in order to eek out a meager living for themselves and their families. They've read lots of books, and have had years to dwell on the subject. Plus, they really are cool, right? No?! Yeah, I didn't think so. So, how about your PEERS? That's perfect right? You blog, they blog. You comment, they comment You care what they think and.... Uh oh! I think I see the flaw in this arrangement! Seriously, if you've just poured out your soul onto a computer screen, or a piece of paper (you guys remember paper right?), do you really want it critiqued by the kid that ate crayons in your kindergarten class? What about the kid in 5th grade that always forgot his backpack? Maybe the kid in junior high who thought he was all that, because he snuck out and got drunk with his friends every weekend? Really, do I even NEED to point out your high school peers? So, who does that leave to critique your work? Everyone, and no one. Confused? It's simple. Write what YOU think, what you care about, what you love, what's inside YOU. Does it matter who comments on it? No. Does it matter if anyone reads your blog? (myself as the example here) No again. Do you need other people to validate what you choose to express in your writing, or to tell you what an author "meant", or to tell you which books are important? No, no, and no! Parents, teachers, peers (like that kid who sits next to you in English, and plays with a gum wrapper all period), are not who you are writing for. You're writing for yourself, and all the other kids (and even adults), who's voices are lost in the haze of blogs and comments, and Facebook posts. Don't give up. Some of us out here.... still want to hear what YOU have to say!
UPDATE!!!!
I left a couple of comments on the lit class blog, and now they're gone. Conspiracy? You be the judge :)
UPDATE!!!!
I left a couple of comments on the lit class blog, and now they're gone. Conspiracy? You be the judge :)
Googling for the Visually Impaired
You just know that everyone who reads this (if anyone does), is thinking, "WTF? Blind people can't Google!" Ah ha! See, that's where your wrong. Not only CAN we Google.... we totally kick ass at it! Oh, and we blind people ALL know about the CTRL+F thing. That's baby stuff. Why are we so good at Googling? Glad you asked! The trick to searching on Google, is not to read anything. No joke! Seriously, just type in whatever random crap you're looking for, click the second link that comes up, and believe every word they say. Will it all be correct? No! Will it makes sense to you? Probably not. Will it be good enough to get you by in a world where everyone believes everything they read on a computer? Absolutely! :) So, the moral of the blog is, "We are all visually impaired. Embrace it!"
Monday, November 12, 2012
Just a thought... if you are going to come up with a url, don't try and use every letter in the alphabet! Seriously, It doesn't matter if it spells out your name, and school, and room number, and home address, and the name of your childhood pet! If you want people to be able to remember it, be creative, but keep it short!
I am GOD here!
My blog is more awesome than colleenliving's blog! She thinks she is so cool cuz she has a pic. She's NOT! I am GOD here!
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