Continuing with ways in which to manage anxiety – I would like to add an eighth and ninth way – after I let you in on the next four we talked about in class.

To review, I have previously written about Breathing, Movement/Nutrition and Distractions (see day 68).

Thought Stopping:  Identify and Challenge Irrational Thinking and stop it!  Ask yourself are you mind reading someone else’s brain without facts to substantiate how someone else is thinking or how they are going to act?  Jumping to conclusions about someone else’s future behavior or how something is going to turn out?  Are you a fortuneteller?  Can you predict the future?

Also detrimental is Should-ing all over yourself, feeling you Must say, do or believe in a certain way.  Thinking strictly in All or nothing/Black and White methods.  Over generalizing everything and everyone.

Take your etch a sketch brain visual and erase!

Affirmations:  Give yourself positive self-talks. Example: “Even when I am anxious, I am okay.”  “This too shall pass”, “all will be well, all will be well” – also using the famous Serenity prayer works wonders.  Like yourself and accept yourself exactly as you are.

Substances: Limiting, reducing or eliminating alcohol, caffeine, recreational drugs, over the counter stimulants.  Easier said than done, but these are major stressors to your body and are not natural.

Sleep:  Establishing regular sleep times and rituals that pleasantly put you to rest.  Avoid TV and all electronics @ one hour before bedtime.  Develop a transition period and create a sleep environment, for example, keep the bedroom cool and dark, bathe in a lukewarm bath, place lavender on your pillow, drink chamomile or soothing tea, read a benign novel (not a murder or haunting mystery), drink warm milk, etc.…

So I would like to add Laughter.  When you can laugh at yourself or be cheered by funny antics or situations – you can actually be healed.  I sometimes laugh at what my cats are doing or something I heard or read earlier.  This can put your mind at ease and physically decompresses you.  I suppose this can be placed under the label of Distraction.

Another tool I have found invaluable is Avoid Negative People/Situations/News/Gossip.  I imagine you could add this to Substances.

I still find out who died, what violent/tragic situation just occurred – from others.  I have been avoiding the news since the Gulf War in 1990.  Bad news flies fast and I prefer to listen to other talk radio/TV and hear about it if I want, but not be glued to the news.  I don’t have to be the first on the block to know everything.  I am not an ignoramus.  But I also know I have an addictive/ADD personality.

I still listen to Politics, World News in general, keep up with Economics and Sports, but I am not a slave to it anymore and I have had to distance myself or detach from it a little in order to remain sane.  I like to avoid drama these days.

Negative People and Situations are vampire suckers in my opinion and since I feed or absorb vibes pretty sensitively, I try to abstain as much as humanely possible from these two.  And what may be ok for you might not be for me.  I have to make that judgment call.  I also may be able to handle something one day and not the next according to my general wellness and self-esteem/strength that particular day or even moment.

And don’t get me started on gossip.  It is basically character assassination.  Every time I get caught up in this vicious activity (which I find as I heal, I do less of, but I am human) I feel less than and stress myself out about my unkindness. “What a horrible person I am” – then I have to forgive, make amends, do affirmations, waste time writing about it, ugh. Don’t need this either.  Who does?

In conclusion, we will always have stress as long as we are alive, but managing it can be a maturing and growing process that can be learned, practiced and employed every time we find ourselves unbalanced via our awareness and vigilance (or someone else – usually near and dear to our hearts – points it out for us).

I am still reeling from seeing the movie, Amour. 

The pace was excruciatingly slow; the piece was dark, wreaked of decay and the subject, dismal.

What made it worse for me, I believe, is how it brought back my dad’s long-term illness and my friend’s final months with cancer. Here, in the solemn theater, I let the tears roll down my face, again, wiping them away with the back of my bare hands.  I wanted to sob but I choked and sunk the impulse down.

On the other hand, it enlightened me on some sore points I thought I had a reason to judge on both those deaths by widening my scope of the intimate, daily trudging and caretaking those closest actually went through.  Watching the weakening and dismantling of the person ailing, with no hope of getting better.  Being in the presence of humiliating body dysfunction of your loved one.  Trying to reconcile your life before with the reality of the harsh truth that lies ahead.

While I went about my business, like the daughter in the movie, my father and my friend sank further into the depths of the daily task of dying, ever so slowly.

And I realize I couldn’t have done it differently, either.  I admonished myself enough and this quiet, moving description on screen, allowed some relief.

Even so, while duly processing this artistic endeavor, I felt my way through by munching not during but after the movie – on popcorn.  A half-bucket of the largest sized popcorn.  Then, at home, cookies were awaiting my arrival and I proceeded to eat them mindlessly while trying but not succeeding to obliterate the last few hours.  I even added ice cream to the mix.  I knew I was emotionally eating and making bad choices (and I had started the day so well and so planned) but it really didn’t matter as I wrangled with the visual I kept playing in my head.

They say that whenever there is a death, you re-live and grieve other loss you have had. Anne’s death, even though you know is coming in the movie and I wasn’t even invested in for long, brought back lots of emotion.

I didn’t just over eat, I also wrote and I watched inane hockey on TV.  I also spent quality time with my college bound daughter who is leaving bright and early tomorrow morning.  I needed to re-group and be in the moment, especially after my despair into gluttony.  I have to work on that reflex reaction to mask pain.

Next time, I may make a better choice, like weeping alone, under the covers or taking a brisk walk outside.

Nonetheless, I endorse watching this movie because it will produce a response.  It is superbly acted and who can resist the French? Not moi!

The dark childhood motif is varied.  Some memoirists sound bitter or amused or have genuine compassion for their now old or dead parents.  They are interesting, to say the least, and it always makes you compare it to your own.

Chief among these memoirs is Running with Scissors by Augusten Burroughs and his sequel Dry about his addictions and alcoholism.  Lurid and comical, Burroughs engages you with wild descriptions and off the charts dialogue.  His dark and humorless A Wolf at the Table, is his latest and waiting on the shelf for me when I am ready to wade through his secrets of dysfunctional, abusive and hellacious passages of time he survived purely by writing everyday, all day – making him a superb yet disturbing author.

The Liars’ Club by Mary Karr was a breakthrough memoir in 1995.  It was the first of many later imitations of revealing past injustices done to a minor in full Technicolor, with no holding back and in explicit graphic detail.  Her life as a youngster is told in a witty yet brutally honest voice.  She went on to write her teen and older memoirs, Cherry and Lit but I have yet to indulge in her excruciating sequels in life.  I know Cherry is about her teenage years and diving into the abyss of wanton behavior and Lit is about her alcoholism.  It’s amazing but whether it’s the Titanic or your own hand, a survivor’s story is still attractive to me.

Jeanette Walls wrote a classy documentation of a neglectful yet colorful family in The Glass Castle.  Several times, I wanted to wring her mother or father’s neck, but she tells her story in a detached, child filled fantasy way and so it is less hostile and more forgiving and understanding in tone than both Burroughs and Karr.  Still, it might  animate and jar  your senses.  It made me feel sorry yet triumphant for Walls, after all she did live to tell about it, with no senseless blame on her part which shows maturity and a certain therapeutic edge probably induced mainly by distance of time and much healing on someone’s couch.  She also wrote and I read Half Broke Horses, which is a true-life novel, based on her grandmother’s adventurous life in the frontier.  Thank you J for gifting me this book.

In the grief category, I have heard time and again that there is no one equal to Joan Didion exploring her personal ordeal in The Year of Magical Thinking.  I have it on my bookshelf, waiting for the right time to read her suffering.

In the surviving and observing atrocious circumstances theme, I vote for Night by Elie Wiesel, winner of the Nobel Peace Prize in 1986.  It is a terrifying account of the Holocaust.  Also, waiting for me, but highly endorsed by my teenagers as a must read.

I have to need a good cry to read these two and plenty of alone time to contemplate after.  But I recommend them because I know it’s great writing and one of these days the mood will strike.   A box of tissues waits.

Memoir is a genre that is undeniably fascinating as it relates true story based on fact.  The best memoir in my opinion has some writer embellishment, raw detail and a sense of hope, compassion and belief in humankind.

A memoir is not a biography; it is a slice of life and tends to be thematic in nature.  One memoirist may have several books published about him/herself since humans are complex – but another person writes your biography. An autobiography is written by the authors about themselves and usually spans the lifetime of the subject in chronological order.  Most bios are about famous or notorious persons while a memoir encapsulates a unique time period, event or growth period of any individual.

Memoir writing (according to me) also has its genres.  I categorize the ones I have read as: sweet slice of life, dark childhood, addiction related, grief stricken or overcoming a substantial circumstance.  Every memoir I read – ever– seems to bring healing to the author if not the reader –probably both and I can only speak for myself but I have always received a healing or a message/lesson/reminder as well.

The most recent memoir I have read in the addiction recovery group was Beautiful Boy – A Father’s Journey through his Son’s Addiction by David Sheff, a writer by trade.  His story is interesting and helpful because it comes at the foibles and troubles of addiction from the parental point of view, not the addict’s.  His recall of events and conversations brings to life the series of downfalls, questions, frustrations and pure hopelessness of addiction and how it affects everyone; no one is left untouched by this serious epidemic.  He tries to make sense of it all by fighting for legislation, education and awareness campaigns in the medical, legal and social media.  His story is one of stamina and perseverance and need I say – HEARTBREAKING!

Another addiction story but told from the addict’s point of view is Broken by William Cope Moyers and Katherine Ketcham.  I actually had the privilege to meet Mr. Moyers, the eldest son of the famous journalist, Bill Moyers at a UCLA event. At the same celebrity hosted seminar I also met Noah Levine, son of Stephen Levine, the guru of death and meditation as a means of healing author/speaker.  Noah went through his own revolution/evolution and wrote Dharma Punx and Against the Stream, both memoirs of his recovery story and enlightened Buddhist conversion, respectively.  I endorse all three of these books for their honesty and their description of pure raw pain – and it just goes to show that although Moyers and Levine came from two very different walks of life, age groups and upbringings, their paths into addiction were similarly horrific and their recovery, spiritual in nature.

In a complete about face, Growing Up Country: Memories of an Iowa Farm Girl by Carol Bodensteiner details a rural, wholesome, hearty childhood remembered sweetly.  When my daughter V complains that all the memoirs I read are depressing, I suggest over and over again she give this simple page turner a try.  This is a feel good, uplifting read and the only unpleasantness is that rural America like Ms. Bodensteiner describes it  –  and that era  – are dead and gone.

Tomorrow – bad childhoods, grief and living through tough times…..I guess my daughter is right about the tone/themes being a bit gloomy!

Why is it that sometimes the day doesn’t go like planned and then other times it’s pretty much on target?  Who knows?  But a better question is, how do you handle it?  Are you a stickler to your agenda?  Are you free flowing?  Does it chap your hide when someone cancels or are  you relieved?

Occasionally, I want to remove or delete an event and then miraculously it gets eliminated or moved for me by the universe.  It’s rare that I see something drop off my schedule and get annoyed.  Usually, I am happy to accommodate more “me” time.  How about you?

“Me” time sounds so selfish but it’s not.  It’s acknowledging the “me” that needs soothing, pampering and nurturing.  How else am I supposed to have patience, cater to your wishes or BE there for everyone else?

No matter what you do with your day – there are plenty of opportunities to become all fired up and unbalanced or to take a time out for “me”.  I vote for the serenity clause and if that means taking a mental health day, then so be it.  I hope I have helped.

Instilled in me is a sense of inadequacy or guilt if I am not doing much.  As I grow wiser and older, I realize sanity lies in the pockets of time I let go of and just allow the day to unfold.  As I get stronger and better at going with the flow, I understand life’s meaning and move forward with purpose.  And as I become this “me”, I grasp intention and ideas, loosely, wearing the cloak of the world rather lightly.

Happiness is letting go of the fear to live and Happiness is a choice. – “Me”

Leave it to my college age daughter V still on vacation to go through old baby books and pictures while she is home today.  It seems I had a baby journal wherein I wrote for the first year, for each of the babies, their escapades and developments.  Distinguished moments include; every child partaking of cat food, baby eating habits and choices eerily similar to their teen years and toddler personalities resembling  today’s young adult as if I was predicting their future quirks and ways.

Excerpts:

M – Lumps and bumps, falling from bouncer, from living room into atrium – falling from standing on water bottles, boxes, anything on the floor or toys.  Amazing accuracy and aim with fingers – picking up things he shouldn’t off floor like grass and putting it into his mouth.  We also had several choking incidents – plants, pieces of food, coins, etc.  Squiggles so much when being changed – one must sing a song or give him a toy.  He claps, waves bye bye.  Seems extremely intelligent.  Loves music, kids, touching everything – always actively learning.  Right now, he’s turning the stereo knobs to death.  He has destroyed one cassette tape so far and learned to pour water out from the dispenser.  Repetitive banging of everything on everything. – 8th month. September/October 1990

V – She grasps objects beautifully. She is gorgeous!  She has her own personality – happy yet easily scared – makes her feelings and needs known – likes tranquility.  Sweet smile – looks at you like she knows you’re saying cute little things to her.  Went to Sizzler and she lunged at the food – she seems to know this is an all you can eat place.  She looks longingly at people eating food.  She’s a good eater.  She is a doll – a porcelain little doll.  She has a strong will and can be stubborn too.  If you take away a toy or something she wants to put in her mouth, you are doomed. – 5th month. October/November 1993

E – She is deliberate, pensive and patient as the day is long.  She is a precious, precious child.  She has excellent sensorimotor skills.  Everyone comments on her beautiful long eyelashes.  She is so pretty.  Personality wise, she is not easily made to laugh and loves to be entertained.  She can become extremely upset and complain when left alone. She hums and “talks” a lot.  She blows raspberries which absolutely makes M hysterical with laughter.  She is observant – very communicative and has shown pleasure, gradually increasing in her interest and excitement and delight in pure play! – 6th month. April 1996

General -There is nothing like having these three kids.  If I am not cooking, cleaning, laundering – I am breastfeeding. 1/18/96.  I am very lucky. Three beautiful and absolutely wonderful children – full of personality.  4/21/96.  Three is TOUGH – I’m trying my best! August or September 1996.

So when I fret with concern or worry now, I want to sigh with nostalgia, instead.  Because, as I read the baby diary  my BFF gave me back in ’89 when I was four months pregnant  in anticipation of my first child , I relive the precious moments I hurriedly jotted down here and there.  I recall in detail, the very instant, the joy, the turmoil and the newness of it all.  It seems like yesterday and yet so long ago.

 I am so glad I kept a journal and I feel honored to be blogging about it today.  We are all writers.  Write about your grandmother, the feelings if not the details. Or, write about your life today or something you remember from your childhood.  It doesn’t have to be great, just get it down on paper.  Get vulnerable and real.  Or just note observations.

 I am grateful I did. And I know my daughter V got a kick out of it, too.

Back from Palm Springs, unpacked, doing all the laundry, ate delicious Zena’s Lebanese tabouli, baba ganoush and hummus, visited my mom with my daughters and brought home 15 pounds of CA oranges, finally sat down to post and intend on watching Golden Globe red carpet and awards I remembered to tape, tout de suite as soon as I post.

Feeling refreshed and lighthearted!!!!

This is my friend Sue, owner of Canyon Rose Boutique at 218 N. Palm Canyon Dr. in Palm Springs.  Her clothes are eclectic, wearable, glam and feminine!  She’s the sweetest!  If you have seen me in something you liked, this is where I got it!  When BFF ML last came to town in 2010 we spent around four hours or so in her teeny shop trying on clothes!  BFF ML is coming to visit in March and we are ready to rock and get new garb!

Make sure you tape Downton Abbey tonight if you are watching the Globes!  I don’t want to miss Tina Fey and Amy Poehler.  They are too funny!  I hope they do well this evening.  Enjoy!

Indulged in a vanilla/orange Shea butter sea salt scrub to gently buff my skin. Followed by a heated mud wrap in foil with minerals from Brittany, France. Finally, a deep tissue massage that painfully released knots I had been accumulating since the holidays.  Oh my goodness!! Talk about feeling cleansed!!  I am now ready for new adventures!!  Off to hike palm canyons and encountering the oasis and vibrating with the energy of ancient Native American ghosts.