A Part of Me Resists Growing Up: Wishful Thinking.

Ever have one of those days where you are saddened by how callous the world seems? I truly don't understand the part of myself I'm going to share. There is a part of me that gets really sad when my "magical", "child-like" thinking gets confronted and corrected by reality. I'd really like to grow out of this.

The first shock rolled through my emotions when I checked out an assertion about net security. Its gone. Your name and many other things about you are a few keystrokes and a mouse click away for anyone willing to do a search. After investigating this with a few searches I was consumed with numb terror. I have been stalked and I thought it would be a bit harder to find information.

My friend, who is a public figure, acknowledged the issue, but is not worried. He doesn't fear being stalked. I have to grow up and realize I'm probably not that interesting a catch anyway. My stalker was a former lover who resented the exiting of my support money from his life. His kind has moved through many victims by now. He's long gone.

The real crusher came with a very long pod cast where the female (my favorite) was OUTRAGED at Apple's behavior towards their customers. I have had a few issues with Apple relating to my sense of "fairness" lately, so I totally related to her position. the male on the show was non-plussed. Shoulder shrug: you pays your money, you take your chances. Apple doesn't owe anybody anything.

I reproduce the email between me and a friend, who shocked me with his reaction to my assertions. (Maybe I'm just PMS-ing).
(My assertions):

I've read and listened to the hysteria today over the iPhone price drop / hoopla / $100 rebate / treat 'em like the suckers they are firestorm.

I like their products, but don't trust them anymore. They are out to make as much money off me as possible.

• 4-week rebate on iLife /iWeb 8 only
• no break on price for Leopard release only 90 days away from my
computer purchase.

I used to trust Apple, now I just shrug and say: "they are like everyone else, but their quality is still better. But it feels like
the quality is sliding also. What can I do? Get out my Debit Card and shut up". Of course I can always buy a $300 PC and REALLY be mistreated with poor quality and money-grubbing.

'Tis life. But I do feel a bit sad. I really thought Apple was different. Maybe once upon a time, they were. But it was probably just a well-orchestrated illusion. Feels like the end of an era. Sad.

(Friend's reaction:)

I'm fine with it. I think that they're being quite generous offering a $100 credit. I just bought a Mac 9 days before iLife came out - 2 days longer than they included as a back period. Oh well. 90 days from when a major OS release comes out and you want them to just give it to you? You're high.

Apple is a company. They're actually pretty good at taking care of their customers according to all research. They're out to make money off you? NO - REALLY? I thought they were just altruistic and giving all this stuff away. You're kidding right?

Apple is different. They're a wanna-be Microsoft. Steve Jobs is a tyrant - but he's a brilliant tyrant. They make great technology. They're a company. I love their products. The hardware is beautiful, the OS is the best. If MS tried to pull off all the interconnectivity of Apple with iTunes and the iPod they'd be getting their butts sued off.

Enjoy your Mac. Enjoy the experience. It's a UI, not a religion.

(Friend's email, my reactions in [] brackets):

I'm fine with it. [WHAT?!] I think that they're being quite generous offering a $100 credit. [true, legally they don't have to rebate at all.] I just bought a Mac 9 days before iLife came out - 2 days longer than they included as a back period. [Oh man. See, that's what I'm talking about!]. Oh well. [what a curious non-reaction].
90 days from when a major OS release comes out and you want them to just give it to you? You're high. [Ouch! Yeah, tactless, but you've never claimed to be otherwise :p, Ouch!]

Apple is a company. [Oh darn, here comes the "reality lecture", sigh]. They're actually pretty good at taking care of their customers according to all research. They're out to make money off you? NO - REALLY? I thought they were just altruistic and giving all this stuff away. You're kidding right? [I wish my feelings or whatever would give up and grow up. Oh, how I wish I was kidding, then it wouldn't hurt inside so much. I have no clue as to what is gnawing at me, but God will show me].

Apple is different. They're a wanna-be Microsoft. Steve Jobs is a tyrant - but he's a brilliant tyrant. They make great technology. They're a company. I love their products. The hardware is beautiful, the OS is the best. If MS tried to pull off all the interconnectivity of Apple with iTunes and the iPod they'd be getting their butts sued off. [Yeah, sigh]

Enjoy your Mac. Enjoy the experience. It's a UI [User Interface, right?], not a religion. [Sarcastic, you're right, blah, blah, blah. Now I feel sad, shamed, STUPID and angry. Oh, how I want to grow out of this part of me!].

So, there it is. But I am baffled as to why I can't seem to shake this love of over idealistic thinking. My friend is right. He is blunt and I wouldn't want him any other way. That razor sharp awareness is part of his exquisite humor.

Religion: A Commitment We're Willing To Die For.

I enjoy the comments I receive on this blog. I am thankful for very little spam-attempts (I delete them ALWAYS) and little negative feedback. Thank goodness I've not been "flamed". I am thankful that you all seem to understand what this blog is about. Now that I'm getting truly healthy, I sometimes wonder if I'm not just narcissistic.

The feedback I receive keeps me plowing the field. I rejoice at the news that someone has found benefit from roaming my musings. Now that I'm out of what seems like the "up and down" of recovery, I'm sometimes at a loss as to what to share with you all.

The idea of a "blurblet" was proposed. I think that is shorter than a real blog post, but longer then a 132-character tweet. I miss twitter.com when its down for maintenance. Yeah, I'm a geek.

But I have spoken of religion, God and all of that. I got some very intriguing feedback from a reader. I reproduce it here as an introduction to my response.

Question: If you know that you're praying to the same God, why take a step backward in the Divine Plan? Are you aware of who Baha'u'llah even is? I'm not going to go into too much - my blog should help a bit. I'll check to see if there is a comment from you, before we start a dialog.

Oops, this person believes I'm WRONG! Wow, I thought it was just us Christians who threw those stones. I have spent hours pondering doing a blog about the issue of religion. I've tried to answer this person's questions about why I left a faith which is the foundation of his life. I tried several approaches. I am not sure if I'm being unclear, or my answers are too upsetting for him.

Basically, at the time I was a member of the Baha'i faith, it was all in my head, it didn't get to my emotions. I didn't change that much. I loved knowing that I had everyone else over an intellectual barrel. They were still in "religious" grade school, while I was in "religious" college! (try believing that without growing an amazing ego behind it.) I didn't feel inspired by my fellow Bahai's, we were all at the same level. I hated Christianity because that was my family's religion. I doubt I need to say more.

When I got sick enough and scared enough to take a second look at the Bible, I felt a power from what Jesus said, who He was and what He claimed He was doing. Eventually, I became Christian because I was sick enough and desperate enough to really make a change. I would have run down a street naked, if someone had told me doing that would heal me. (Thankfully, I walked, fully dressed to an altar, instead.)

But how to deal with people who don't think, or believe as I do? I've known really aggressive Buddists - whose evangelism makes the Moonies look week! I've also been mentally tackled by Jehovah's Witnesses and Mormons. What lies behind these efforts is a commitment someone has made to a belief system they sense has "changed their life".

I never challenge some one's testimony. How can I argue with a person who KNOWS that a belief system got them off narcotics? When you are approached on the street by someone with "the word", I find a polite way to deflect the encounter is to inquire as to how they found their faith. It takes the tension out of the meeting. I can praise health and self improvement whether or not I agree with the doctrine. With that initial tension gone it is easier to decline their invitations.

But here is what troubles this conservative Christian. What if my way IS the only road to heaven, while everything else is a sham and a lie? If what I believe is bunk and the New Age folks are right, I get to try it again until I get my karma straightened out, or whatever else I need to learn in the evolving, reincarnating school of the Spirit. At worst, I'm slowing my progress.

But, if Jesus is right and its Him or hell, is it cool for me to side step the issue and not discuss the possibility that you have been deluded by a lie? A lie which could cause you to spend eternity in hell?

Granted, some Christians have the sensitivity of rocks, around these issues. If we are right, we should be the most healthy, centered and tactful folks running loose. It's okay, go ahead and let yourself groan now. As a group we appear, on TV at least, to be completely out of our minds.

I have been in social situations where someone has engaged in what I think of as Kamikaze Witnessing. Witnessing tactless and brutal enough to spawn lifelong atheism in its victims. I apologize for all of that. People can believe correctly and still be the idiots they were before becoming Christian. It took me almost twenty years in the faith before I really got around to growing up. Or as it is known among us as getting "sanctified".

Sanctification is where you stop fighting God and He turns you into a balanced, healthy and more Christ-like human being. The real Jesus is a cool dude. I've never had a problem with Jesus, but occasionally, some of his followers make me want to commit murder. "Oh God, can I send this one to Glory, NOW?" Actually, I've learned to talk less and pray more. But I still have a mouth which gets me into trouble from time to time: "Excuse me, do you know you are acting like an idiot?" Funny how that gets under people's skin... Yeah, I'm not all done yet either.

I hurt for all the people who believe everything under the sun, except Jesus. You'll notice that all other movements are tolerant of everything EXCEPT Christianity. I actually know a person who is waiting to be "picked up" by the Mother Ship. She believes when they come for her (!) they will take her to her real home on another planet, in another galaxy. And I get laughed at because I believe in the bodily resurrection of Jesus Christ?

People gag on the Christian message because it implies Absolute Truth, accountability and a time limit for making your decision. Why worry about change if I am just going to reincarnate anyway and I can work harder in the next life? But, if there is a real God, with real feelings and spiritual laws have eternal consequences. Ew, that is creeps ville. So explains the continuing push to get "God" out of all public life.

I heard a former Nazi Party member explain that it wasn't until religion was suppressed from social discourse that the Third Reich really took off. He wept as he apologized for what his country did in WWII. He felt guilty for "just going along, to get along". He was a teenager, but knew he should have resisted being a Nazi.


I truthfully can't explain "original sin". But look around this world, is it getting better or worse? It seems to me that mankind keeps coming up with gruesome and grosser forms of evil every day. Ever have to teach a child to lie? If we are basically good, where does that "lie" come from?

Some Christians get all exercised about what heaven will be like, or what kind of resurrected body they will have. I really don't care. I do care that since finding Christ, or rather, letting Him "Save" me, I'm really finding healing, peace and joy. I can't fix this world, but I can work on not being as big an idiot today as I was yesterday. No other movement ever gave me the courage to truly face myself, warts and all.

Ode To Life: Why I'm Sorry I Tried To Kill Myself.

Actually composed this post a few months back, but it is still relevant. The expanding duties of the church website have put my language project on hold. My friend Nancy is also extremely busy, but we still chat when she has the time.

I am beginning to learn Chinese. Why, you ask. Because I've made friends with a gal in Beijing China and she has invited me to blog on her site. Google has this terrific translating tool, but when I begin to interact with the Chinese website, the translating stops. So, I'm learning basic things like "Post", "save" and "publish", in Chinese! I feel like an idiot, on one level, but its fun to make a effort anyway.

I truly believe that this kind of friendship making that unites different cultures, age groups, races and countries will eventually stop mankind's love of war. I share the words to a great song from the 1960':

Last Night I Had The Strangest Dream
words and music by Ed McCurdy

Last night I had the strangest dream
I'd ever dreamed before
I dreamed the world had all agreed
To put an end to war

I dreamed I saw a mighty room
Filled with women and men
And the paper they were signing said
They'd never fight again

And when the paper was all signed
And a million copies made
They all joined hands and bowed their heads
And grateful pray'rs were prayed

And the people in the streets below
Were dancing 'round and 'round
While swords and guns and uniforms
Were scattered on the ground

Last night I had the strangest dream
I'd never dreamed before
I dreamed the world had all agreed
To put an end to war.

TRO-©1950,1951 & 1955 Almanac Music, Inc.
New York, N.Y. Copyrights renewed
Used by permission.

There is one beautiful idea. I am so blessed to meet Nancy and the students she works with. I feel like I've been invited into their home. I have begun to research really learning Chinese and it looks rather daunting. But, I take it one step at a time.

I almost succeeded in ending my life in 1979. I tried to end my life with alcohol poisoning. I was stunned to realize that all the real healing began after getting "saved" in 1981. Today I am caring for Maggie the cat in a lovely home in the Berkeley Hills. I drink in the beauty of my surroundings. I'm sitting on a soft white rug, observing Maggie and her cat ballet. Sunlight is streaming through the trees outside the window. There are various shades of green as the wind moves the leaves around. I feel a deep sense of repentance for wanting to die. I would have missed all the current goodies of health and life.

I then remembered the marvelous people I've encountered since 1979. In the early '90's, I tried my hand at learning Engineering. Even though I flunked out, I had the joy of seeing professors in love with their subjects. As a psychology major I never had the thrilling experience of seeing an excited professor share their joy. I believe my love of three dimensional drawings is part of what interests me about web design and graphic arts.

Thanks to proper medication, I have the miracle of emotional stability. Oh, I can still go totally off the beam and panic over a small matter. But today, it is short lived and doesn't result in a hospital admission. With this freedom I've made wonderful friends. All kinds of friends.

Although I dog sit and house clean for Maria and John, I think of Maria as the mother I never had. She is in her early seventies and is gently teaching me how to save money. I will permit her to correct me in ways I won't let others even attempt. We have grown very close. I never would have met her at all, if I'd died in 1979.

I was twenty-seven, really living like I was still a small child. I am now fifty-four making friends with concepts like responsibility, delayed gratification and accountability. I have found a church home I adore. A small group of Christians who think very much as I do. This small group of very conservative black folks have adopted me as one of their own. I have the joy of experiencing their love and friendship as we all learn more and more about God and Jesus Christ, together.

I have a flock of Internet buddies. People I communicate with over the Internet, but haven't met face to face. I enjoy the intellectual tennis matches I play with some of my pals. We email, or chat about God, philosophy, science, movies and music. I know physicists, Electronic Technicians, reporters, IT professionals and Engineers. I am also an avid fan of a couple of up and coming science fiction writers. There is never a shortage of interesting things to explore in person or on the Internet.

There re very difficult times during the years I struggled to "desire" to live. I had a lot of counseling and therapy to attend to. There were major problems with my past. I had a large amount of grief work to face. Before I could put my past into perspective, I had to admit that my past was an infection which had to be lanced, cleaned out and healed. Facing my past was very hard and painful work. It is like mental surgery. An infected finger can kill you, if you let it go totally untreated.

The major battle for me was accepting the responsibility of fighting for my own recovery. Yes, adults messed me over very badly, when I was a child, but now I was an adult. I had to stop blaming "them", start looking at my own behavior and WHY I continued to act in ways that weren't working in my life.

My gratitude is endless for the men and women who fought to help me get better. Looking back, I can now see that many people tried to "reach" me. I remember many times in my life, where people tried to help ,me, I just couldn't understand. I assumed it was some kind of trick, or trap. I wasn't ready to face the pain of my childhood. But, when this student was finally ready, I had wonderful professionals who donated hours of free counseling to give me a chance to have a real life. In a way, I write this blog as a thank you for all of their work on my behalf.

Ultimately, I thank God I found Jesus Christ. All the improvement and growth began AFTER I became a Christian. Being a Baha'i' was only an interesting intellectual exercise. Jesus had the real power to replace my heart of stone with a heart of compassion. The false superiority of having all the "right" answers had to be smashed.

I had to first learn to stop trying to kill myself. Once I'd made a commitment to actually try to live, I've begun to learn not to fear other people. My life is smoothing out and becoming more and more 'normal'. I am now working on the issues we all have to deal with. Being responsible, truthful and accountable.

It is not gripping reading. Do I put in a true effort at my work, or do I just "get by"? Do I keep commitments I've made to God, or blow Him off? Am I really willing to be honest when I desire a day off, or do I just "not show up"? (real on-the-edge-of-your-seat-stuff, right?)

I end this post with a wonderful way to put things into perspective.
God's gift to me is life. My gift to Him is what I do with my life.

My New Clothes from My Church.

Even though I genuinely enjoy doing the weekly bulletins for church, the last week in August, was not a fun session. Pastor called it in late on Saturday evening after I'd gone to bed.

I dragged my mind back to work mode and began the (usually simple) process of producing Sunday's Bulletin. "Friends & Family Day". He wanted a group scene of people. I use a website chalk-full of such pen and ink drawings and figured I'd be finished rather quickly.

Oh man! I just couldn't find the correct drawing. I came so very close to dumping the drawing all together and just putting out a text based bulletin. But I forced myself to do it right and eventually came up with what I hoped would please my Pastor.

Then it was time for me to do something really stupid with my computer. Fixing my mess-up took several hours, leaving little time for more sleep. I loathe doing anything when I'm that tired. Being tired just saps my ability to be an adult. I always have to fight the temptation to act like a cranky three-year-old.

Once church was over, I decided not to stay for the meal provided for this "friends and Family Day". I couldn't think of a good excuse to leave, but I sat in the back fanning my overheated, "having a hot flash" self, longing to go home.

Into every life an idiot doeth come. A gentleman came in and sat directly in front of me. I tried to talk to him. He rebuffed me with a very curt and clear: "I don't want to talk to you!" and then proceeded to respond politely to other people.

I have had this kind of thing happen to me far too often and frankly I handle it badly. When I'm rested I can control my desire to sob and carry myself like an adult. When I'm exhausted the desire to: a) seek revenge and or b) cry is just too tempting.

I used the excuse that I was just too tired and quickly left for home. I knew this is what I needed to do for self care. Maybe the guy didn't like white people, women or strangers, but I'd fight that battle another day. I have found it is important to know when you are not equipped for a situation. Social situations, at the best of times, are difficult for me. When I have any kind of rejection issue, they become an emotional endurance test.

I came home and made a nice lunch for myself and settled down to do some work on the website before letting myself go to bed. I got a call from a friend at church. They had two bags of clothes and a plate of food coming for me! My friend understood where I was at emotionally and was just happy to deliver these items.

I have blogged about my beautiful velour, silk and cotton jacket dresses before. But this batch of clothes were all for summer! A really good way to get heat stroke is to wear a velour jacket dress in the summer. These were all light chiffon or stretch nit outfits. Even two pairs of shorts. with many mix and match tops.

I was totally stunned. These are the kind of expensive, pretty clothes I'd never buy for myself. Oh, I'd have maybe two nice "vacation" outfits, but the rest would be from the thrift store. The thrift store for those of us who are overweight is a depressing adventure.

I am comfortable now in 2x to 3x clothes and those sizes are few and far between at your average thrift store. My usual attack plan is: if it fits, I don't care what it looks like. Take it and get on with it.

I now have a real wardrobe of wonderful "vacation" and "fancy" clothes. I had the joy of throwing out clothes that had seen better days, several years ago! I do not show my picture of me because I've been stalked in the past and don't want the problem cropping up again. So, enjoy checking out the nicest set of clothes I've ever owned. I'm taking as many pictures as this blog will handle. I'm showing off my summer and winter clothes. These clothes are so beautiful. I like how I feel when I wear them.

I now log off to go and enjoy that "soul food" brought to me yesterday. These folks not only know how to dress, but they sure know how to eat. BBQ chicken, Terreiki chicken, greens, mac and cheese, yams and some really wonderful velvet cake. God is showing me more of His love and I am so glad I did my best work for Him even when I was tired. He sure has inspired folks to share some beautiful things with me.

Recovery: Well Enough To Choose Maturity.

We all have faults and weaknesses which follow us for years. The lament of those around me was: "Cybe. Why can't you grow up?". I learned to hate that type of question. No matter what strategy I tried, I still ended up in tears and basically throwing a three-year-olds tantrum.

The other seemingly intractable part of my make up was the total emotional meltdown I began experiencing every seven to ten years of my life. I remember being hysterical with a casual friend one summer at camp. I was moving into seventh grade. My cousin was just pounding on me for all the usual things. No matter what I did, it wasn't enough.

If I dutifully washed down all the counters in the kitchen, my cousin's husband would shame me with the statement that his wife POLISHED all the counters! It was hard not calling him the bold faced liar he was. But, my internal emptiness kept growing because there was no praise for anything I did anywhere. I was dying inside.

My camp friend was shocked and since she knew nothing about my home life, pushed me away with the tired retort that I was just pitying myself and to grow up. I stopped sharing and by my senior year in High School was a clinically depressed and disassociating mess. I went through hours of not properly relating to reality with the thought: "You haven't happened yet." I was too scared to really tell anyone what was going on in my mind, but I came close to being put in a mental hospital.

Jumping from the frying pan into a fire, I left home at 19 and married a man twelve years older then I. He had levels of child abuse in his history which I still have trouble relating to. We were two messed up people, who thought we could "fix" each other. FORGET IT! You can only "Fix" yourself. I shudder to remember what my poor x-husband must have thought and felt when he saw me have one of my almost monthly "fits".

I'd just start screaming and crying. I'd lose the ability to feel, see and hear. I'd come out of thse things after maybe twenty to forty-five minutes. My x-husband believed once he got me well, than I could help him get well. Over and over professionals, friends and my x-husband questioned me: "Cybe, why can't you grow up?" I didn't know, but was building a huge "shame" file around the general issue.

Next major break was when, after ten years of marriage, I found my husband was having sex with boys as young as ten. I was so clueless as how to take care of myself I thought the only way to get out of the marriage was suicide. I tried it and failed. But I came mighty close to making it out of this life, long before salvation and healing.

Once on my own I collected sexual partners of either sex and tried to rebuild my life. After another few years I was unable to complete sentences. It seemed that each time I fell apart I was just a little more broken, then the last time. I was forty and in my Md's office as an emergency psychiatric case. My regular doctor wasn't there and a stranger opened the door.
My body literally arced up in the air on the gurney. I made a crucial decision. I was going to seriously look into being committed because it was clear to me, that I was unable to manage my own life.

I told this story elsewhere in this blog, but I will never, ever forget what this kind man told me.

"You don't change (not being able to grow up and stop crying), because you CAN'T change. You have a problem with your brain. This is physical, not phycological,"

Well, here I am now fifty four and something so wonderful happened to me this week. A friend at church and I were at a District Meeting together. When I saw her, I waved at her. She misunderstood my hand gesture. I was just saying "Hi". She thought I wanted her to stop and talk to me. The choir was singing and the sound system was very loud. She was trying to get the person playing the organ to turn it down, as it was drowning out the choir. Because this lovely lady likes me and realizes I can't see the more subtle gestures people make, when they like you, but can't take the time to chat, she tried to talk to me.

She was angry, pressured and busy. She tried to explain about the problem with the organ music being too loud. Due to the noise level, I didn't hear part of what she said. I was standing, swaying and twisting to the beautiful song. I heard: "...choir can't be heard above all of THAT!" Since I didn't hear the beginning of her statement, I thought I was being told to sit down and not upset the choir performance!

Friends, even a year ago, this would have driven me to tears. But, Wednesday August 15, 2007 I experiences the following. At first I was insulted that I was being talked to like that. What tempered my anger was the very real felt experience of the love of the people of my church for me. I've been corrected by several people at church for various infractions. They are always gentle and kind. I felt a little wave of niceness wash over me, remembering these totally new experiences.

Not totally spiritual, I then noticed an entire flock of clapping, singing and NOISY people around me. I wanted to turn around and jump on them for singing! I got jumped on and I know I wasn't singing! I began to ask God to help me keep things in perspective. If I kept my thoughts to myself, and was wrong about the situation - I wouldn't have to apologize later. Oh, what a lovely lesson THAT has been for me. I decided to check with my friend after service, because I was clueless as to what I had done to get such a strong rebuke.

When I got a chance to talk to her, the full story came to light. We had totally misunderstood one another! She was spitting mad at someone else! It wasn't about me at all! (Man, am I thankful I quietly prayed instead of getting snooty with the people around me who were singing)

The real miracle of this exchange then hit me hard. I hadn't cried, hadn't been anywhere near wanting, or needing to cry! I wanted to grab my friend and say: "Oh, please rebuke me, now that I can handle it, I want to practice!" Thanks to another bit of divinely inspired wisdom, I didn't say that either.

At church they talk about having to give your mind and heart new experiences in the present to argue with your dysfunctional past. The love I receive from my fellow church members is real and I've learned I can trust them to be kind and gentle. It is perfectly acceptable to question what I'm told. I don't have to lie and smile when I'm angry and upset. As long as I'm gentle and respectful, questions and even disagreement, are fine.

I still can't believe I am leaving the world of constant tears behind. I'm beginning to take responsibility in areas of my life I've stubornly refused to deal with before. Like physical health and taking better care of my room and belongings. God is teaching me different kinds of patience as I work with the church website. I rarely think about my past these days. I'm too busy living a REAL life. A life where a therapy appointment isn't the most interesting part of the day.

Recovery: Self-discipline Revisited.

More than anything, my goal for this blog is to document recovery from mental illness and child abuse. I am so far into new territory (in my recovery), I am almost lost for words to describe where my life is going.

My early role models and personal habits were warped and dysfunctional at best. I learned to fear being an adult, taking responsibility and most of all self-discipline. I equated all of the above with a torture rack of unending misery and pain.

I mis-learned all these things. I had what has been described by M. Scott Peck PhD. and others as "undisciplined discipline" My odyssey with God is teaching me something tender, sweet and new.

For those of you who don't believe in God, I apologize. I have no substitute. I only have my experience. For my money, Jesus Christ is the best thing going. I owe all my healing to Him and Him alone.

Last Monday night, just before climbing into bed, I brushed my tummy roll and felt a twinge of awareness. Man, I've gained weight. I'd been given some beautiful clothes by a member of my church that were 3x in size. They were a little big on me, but not THAT much too big! I began to question how I could deal with losing weight God's way and not just plunge willy-nilly into another crash diet which would only lead to failure, more weight gain and a sense of futility.

I prayed to God. If You want me to lose weight, I am willing to really make an effort. But I want to do something simple, sane and slow. A life style adjustment instead of a "diet". I can't bear to never eat anything I love. I go into binge eating when I restrict myself like that.

I didn't expect, or receive an immediate answer. No booming voice out of the air, or even a small voice. I just felt like it was possible to do something different. That I would be shown a new way which would fit my requirements.

I did a Google search on weight lose and found a free website that I could use to track my calories, weight and body measurements. If I wanted to pay $5 a month, my calories and other nutritional information would be summed up and compared with he FDA recommended intake for protein, fiber and all that other stuff they track.

I've always liked tracking what I actually do, verses just having a goal which is so far into the future, I can't even relate to it. I learned that I am working my way up to the worst level of obesity, but I'm not quite there yet. I learned that I can set up a diet plan where I can lose a pound a week. I can learn to change things gradually without denying myself an occasional piece of cake, dish of ice cream, or anything else I love.

The bad news? Well, II was 205.5 pounds. I should be around 130 pounds. That is a difference of 75.5 pounds. I can handle losing the weight in 75.5 weeks, which is 1 year and 23.5 weeks. That is a bit less then a year and a half. Having an easy weekly target and a long term goal like this has taken all the tension out of wanting to lose weight. Right there I can see God gently teaching me the beginning of self-care which is actually self-discipline.

The other part of this website is tracking your activities every day. You tell them how much exercise you are doing now and work up to adding something to your daily routine. I love to walk, and when I don't walk, I get stiff to where I have trouble supporting any weight at all on the right foot. I try to walk an hour a day, but before having this lovely website to account to, I never managed to actually walk more then one or two days a week. That was not enough.

There is something very satisfying about seeing what I'm actually doing daily. Carrying my 25 pound walker up and down our 30+ stairs every day wipes out almost 50 calories, all by itself. A one hour walk tallies up to almost 400 calories. Adding in other things I never thought of as exercise brings my activity calorie reduction to nearly 500 calories a day!

This is not a signal for me to buy cake and cookies every day! I only need to cut down my food intake by 500 calories a day to make my goal of 1 pound a week of weight loss. I eat what I want, but HONESTLY admit what it was and how much I ate. I quickly saw that my amazing love of mayonnaise was accounting for almost 1600 calories a day, alone! Maybe I can cut that back, just a touch...?

The amazing thing I discovered is that I'm losing weight, exercising and not acting all crazy. No protein powder, Atkins or any other goofy food plan. I'm down to 198 pounds with no feeling of being cheated out of anything.

The only substitution I've made is to buy oranges and dried apricots for my "sweet" tooth, instead of cake, doughnuts or ice cream. I can have the other stuff, but not on a daily basis. Had a blow-out burger meal with a friend with that lovely chocolate pie. I used Equal in my coffee, but other then that I let myself enjoy a "treat" meal. I gained a pound, which swiftly disappeared when I returned to my regular, less caloric eating.

I can't remember ever having real "diet" success in my life. I can live with the changes. I feel better when I exercise. I am making friends with a whole bunch of new concepts. At church, several days after I began my new food arrangement, the preacher spoke of how important physical health was. The sermon confirmed everything I was doing. Slow, sane and lasting REAL change.

For those of you interested in this (I think) cool dieting website: (http://www.my-calorie-counter.com/calorie_counter.asp). I want to show you the link, as well as give you a link to these folks. They offer various newsletters, but won't clutter your inbox without your opting in.

For those of you who have turned purple with rage about the very notion of dieting. Just realize that this information may not be for you at this time. Not everything is a "have to", "right now". I've spoken of my dieting history when a friend began a diet and I was in a totally different frame of mind. Its okay to say "no". Saying "no" is also a very important part of recovery. You can always come back later and change your mind.

Saying Good-Bye To "Wanderlust", My Dying eMac.

I'm a Macintosh person. I took it as a personal affront from Steve Jobs when she began to fail. Apple's DON'T FAIL! I resisted the temptation to yell at my Macintosh representative. How dare she not be able to perform "remote" magic and fix my 40 Gigs of external storage disc partition that had disappeared!

"Darling, when your USB ports fail intermittently its your logic board. You better get the new computer sooner rather than later," Janice Kempf has proven herself to be an exceptional Apple Rep. I trust her. She does exquisite customer service and I love the chance to buy something from her. We'd explored what I wanted for a new machine earlier in the year.

However, I had a plan. I wouldn't buy a new Mac until Leopard, the next operating system came out in October. Now, with only 4 months until this release I'LL HAVE TO PAY FOR A NEW OPERATING SYSTEM TO GET LEOPARD! Oh rage, scream, damn! Steve Jobs has me, and I know it.

Since Janice already knew what I was looking for in the next machine, she went to the refurbished things first. I had two great choices, three if I would take a 17 inch screen. I made my decision and Janice put it all together for the amount I had in the bank.

I thought that dropping over $1,500 would be fun. I was in tears. I had data to save, pleading letters to write, begging for geeks to "save" me and just some general sulking to do. This is NOT at all like my daydreams.

I am really getting to move up in the Mac. world, as my computer duties have expanded from small-time home consumer to part-time business person. As webmaster and whatever-they-need-I'll-try-it (for my church) business person, my poor eMac is just not powerful enough, or large enough to handle my new duties. I love my eMac. I feel sad to lose her. She is more then a machine. I grew up pounding on her keyboard, mousing myself into carpal tunnel syndrome on games and exploring Instant Messaging and Social networks.

Before Wanderlust I swore I'd never, ever, ever get on the Internet because my vision just couldn't handle it. I'd always leave a session of attempts in tears. But Wanderlust with reverse video, square box around-the-cursor and font changing capabilities brought the Internet to me. Now that I can see it, I LOVE it!

How did she get the name "Wanderlusts"? She started life in Southern California, a nice Republican area. For mysterious reasons I never figured out she got shipped to Sacramento, where she disappeared from the shipper's system. Having a box with no information, what did they do?

THEY SHIPPED IT BACK TO SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA! It only took three weeks to straighten out the mess, but I bet she was running away from my area which is totally Democratic. The Socialist Republic of The San Francisco Bay Area! She tried really hard NOT to come here! Our politics here are so scary. I had to call her Wanderlust.

For those of you not from this area in the United States, here's a sample of our local insanity. Feng Shui in San Francisco building codes! Gay marriages pushed through by the SF mayor, which were subsequently overturned in the courts. But that building code stuff just kills me!

Feng Shui, for those of you who don't know has to do with the spiritual benefit of locating objects in a room in specific places. It isn't enough to put a desk by the window for good lighting, but will its placement in the room contribute to good vibrations for the occupant! Our tax dollars at work.

When Wanderlust arrived I had the joy of setting her up and getting my very first Internet connection. Due to some @#$ with our local phone company, I have no land line. I had to go with cable. Comcast was more reliable then the "free" government service. For $71.20 a month I have flawless performance, excellent 24/7 customer service and basically I rarely think about them.

Jeez, I loved all the news, recipes, books, magazines, newspaper feeds and pod casts. I loved playing games with my mouse. Super Collapse killed my wrist because I did it for several hours straight! (Yeah, stupid, but I made it to level 4). I found jig saw puzzles, international long distance telephony (everywhere for free!) and digital photography. In short order I was living on my computer.

Via pod casting I ran into a geek back east who has become a valued and trusted friend. He can be crazy and shallow, but occasionally he gets deep and serious! He has taught me many things. We follow each others work and I look forward to invading his area in October of 2008 for the Ignoble Prizes. THAT is going to be one hell of a vacation!

But I digress. As I type this I feel sad because I can't give Wanderlust to someone who needs a computer, as a bad logic board is not a nice thing to share. Apple won't recycle my computer either. BUT had the balls to charge me an $8.00 "recycling fee" (!) on my iMac. GROWL, GROWL, GROWL!

I've given my old eMac to a tech friend to use for spare parts. I also gave him the 80 GB external disc drive which had the 40 GB "disappeared" partition. It turns out that I just got my data transferred in time. The eMac logic board rendered the machine unusable for my friend and he said that 95% of the external disc was bad. I bet there was a very busy angel protecting that data as I transferred it to my new machine!

Here is the dirt on both machines:

eMac 1.25 Ghz, 40 GB Hard Disc, low-end graphics card, 17" CRT screen.
imac 2.16 Ghz, 250 GB Hard Disc, 512-something graphics card, 20" LCD screen.

As you can see from the photos above the new screen is huge. I can have a whole mess of windows opened at once and switch between them with a mouse click, rather then having to use expose. I named my new machine "Linda the iMac" as this dear soul gave me $50 towards the purchase when she didn't have squat for money. I thought her gesture was truly wonderful.

Training a Cat: Why I Know Parents Are Saints!

Please note, this is an attempt at humor, with some truth thrown in here and there. See CyberGal doesn't do "children". I don't babysit, or do Youth Sunday School. When I go on vacation I attempt to stay far, far away from God's little gifts. I like kids in small doses. I drop in for an evening. So I am blissfully unaware of the character building friends of mine speak of when they discuss parenting. No more!

No, I didn't take care of a child, but I was instructed to "discipline" the owner's cat. Knowing absolutely NOTHING about how cats react to being thwarted, I assured the owner that the cat would not be permitted out of the house before 7 AM and would be back inside the house at 9 PM. How hard can this be...?

God works in very mysterious ways. How hard was it? It depends on whether I get points for never actually acting on my thoughts towards a yowling animal who has the endurance of an Olympic athlete!

I have bizarre sleep patterns no matter what's going on. I tend to sleep for three to four hours, get up at around 2 AM, work for a few hours and return to sleep for a good six hours. Taking medication to straighten this out leaves me too doped-up to function. So, since I have a very lose schedule, I work around my sleeping patterns.

The cat and I got on very well. She'd cry to get out between 3:30 AM and 5 Am and whether awake, or asleep, I can open a door and return to blissful slumber. But, now, I had a real challenge. The owner told me just to lock her out of my bedroom when: "...she becomes a pest." I thought this was a bit extreme. After all, Maggie likes me, there won't be a problem. NOT!

I woke up at 3:30 to her usual morning serenade. I tried talking to her. Her mewing got louder. She jumped on counters. She virtually screamed at me in a non-stop stream of feline invectives. She was mad and let me hear about it. There is nothing quite as frustrating as trying to ignore an angry animal with a will, determination and an ATTITUDE.

After the first hour of this heavenly bliss, I started thinking about teaching the cat like my mom taught me. Pick her up and toss her against the nearest wall! I confess my emotions were now all stirred up. I couldn't believe how angry I was becoming.

"yowl, yowl, yowl, YOWOWOWL!" Maggie is following me around the house. It never stops. Its only 4:45 AM and I gotta wait until 7:00 AM? Since she actually startled me with her leaping on a counter where I was pouring hot water for coffee, I cured THAT problem. I moved away from her so she'd know I wasn't going to strike her. I then hit the marble counter as hard as I could with a flat hand.

"SLAP!"

Ooooh, look at the flying kitty!

Blessed silence. Being startled by the unexpected noise, Maggie shot off the counter into the air. By now I was actively babbling incoherently at my Lord. "How do they do this without killing their children?" As I heard the soft ticking of a clock, waiting for my answer, the Yowler re-doubled her efforts.

When my cell phone alarm went off at 7 AM, I leaped into the air to let the suffering feline lose upon the world. By now, she'd given up and was nowhere to be seen! My rage returned as I realized she was going to take hr own sweet time exiting the house! Well, eventually, she sauntered into the kitchen and hung half in and half out of the doorway.

Once she did actually exit, I returned to bed and collapsed into unconsciousness. It didn't really feel like sleep, but I was all keyed up inside and couldn't figure out what was happening to me. I never remember having to apologize to God for so much so fast over anything before. I was being torn apart by a four pound fur ball with a will of iron!

I did get a lot of church work done while the Yowler was out at play. But, she wouldn't come in at all to eat. At night, she wouldn't eat even her beloved "treats". Now I had a torrent of guilt to keep my anger company. Why am I being so cruel... No, I've got to do what the owner requested. "Dear God, please tell the cat what's happening and tomorrow will be better, right? Thanks Lord."

By day three I discovered I could confuse the cat into momentary silence. I decided to imitate her in pitch, attitude and volume. Maggie actually turned full around to face me. In shocked silence she sat looking up at me like I'd just floated in from Mars. Long story short, she cried, I suffered. She refused to eat, I worried as she was beginning to lose weight. It just went on like this day after day, after day.

I then noticed that awful feeling one has when they have to do something they loathe. I was afraid to go to sleep at night because I knew that at 3:30 AM, we'd start all over again. Now I had depression to go with my guilt, worry and impotent anger. Hmmm, when I get off this gig, I might have to get my medications changed. Great. I could just see telling my Doctor this story! Probably commit my butt into the hospital for sure!

So, its finally over. Eight days of discovering several worrisome traits I didn't know I had. Realizing that my mother, in spite of her troubles and illness didn't actually kill me. Now I know enough about my personality to realize it wasn't because I didn't try to drive her to distraction! Yeah, you parents out there. You are all saints!

Notes From A Prayer Warrior.

For those of you not religious, this expression is used in Christian circles. I'm not sure if it is used in other religions, but I would suspect the function is covered, but maybe by another name. I love to pray. Prayer, for me, is simply "talking to" or "thinking at" God. I taught myself to pray in my teens as a Baha'i'.

At first it felt silly, like trying to have a conversation with ... Well, I'd start: "Hi God...", then I'd wait for a response! When none came, I was actually relieved, as an audible: "yes CyberGal," would have scared the life out of me!

I then decided I'd have to just trust that my prayers were being heard and acted upon. I didn't have long to wait before a friend admitted stealing cigarettes from my Cousin. This had put me in a very touchy position with my cousin. She assumed my guest had done it, but asked me if I'd stolen the cigarettes.

When my friend confessed I was out raged. My cousin and I had a very, very stormy relationship under the best of circumstances and THIS! I felt the temptation to scream at my friend. Instead, I thought a quick prayer to my new friend, God.

"What do you want me to do here?" I figured I'd wait to see if I remembered something from the Baha'i' writings. Within a few minutes I remembered some passages which dealt with forgiveness and kindness. (Two actions I really didn't want to take). I thanked God for answering my question and then asked Him to help me get over my anger enough to truly be kind and forgiving.

Something very curious then took place in my mind. I remembered how messed up my friend's home life was. I remembered how scary it was for me to confess anything bad to my cousin. It was like putting my neck on a chopping block and saying: "Here I am, go ahead and kill me."

I was not speaking to my friend as we walked and I talked to God. Once I had these new thoughts I frankly told my friend my new experiences with God and let her know I wasn't mad at her, (though I pleaded with her not to do it again). I then realized her silent response was because she was quietly weeping.

This established God for me. I prayed a lot as a Baha'i'. It probably kept me from attempting suicide as a teen. I had such awful bouts of loneliness for people. I'd been grounded for a year and was not allowed to leave the house, except for school. No phone and no outings anywhere. I remember feeling an isolation so strong, it was almost physically crushing.

I chanted the Baha'i' prayer "Remover of difficulties" five hundred times. It is about three lines. Chanting helped me live better with life as I found it. God came to me in other wonderful ways. I would listen to the radio and strings of songs would be played that I particularly enjoyed. I came to understand that God was doing this for me. It was a kind of caring. It made me very happy, when most of my life was abysmal at best.

Prayer kept me from fighting more with my cousin then I did. I hated her and her ways. Once I got married and found out how she'd mismanaged some money my mother had left for me, I was so angry I feared I'd try to torture her. I told my husband not to let me leave our home until I calmed down. I seriously wanted to torture her. Not kill her, but to inflict as much physical pain and emotional anguish on her just short of killing her. I wanted to do this over and over again.

I believe prayer might have saved my cousins life. I had the sense not to act on an anger so strong, I truly felt energy radiating from my eyes. I knew enough to realize it was a dangerous, cold, calculating vicious thing. I was afraid of my anger. I prayed to God for help. It took about three hours before I calmed down, but I know God gave me the strength to resist a very real temptation to hurt my cousin.

When I became a Christian I was amazed at how Jesus worked when the Baha'i faith didn't. Just reading the Bible introduced strength and hope into my world I'd never known before. With all my mental illness, Jesus had much work to do, to even position me where I could rightly comprehend "the good news". God let me wander through several different Christian movements before I really "got" what Jesus actually did for me.

I knew he healed me, but the sin thing and the Holy Spirit-as-a-man made no sense to me. I didn't think I'd done wrong in relation to what had been done to me! (Now, after almost 25 years as a Christian, God has gently shown me my darker side. I now have enough emotional strength to handle taking responsibility for my bad behavior). I've learned the freedom of working on the problems in my life and leaving you and your problems to God and prayer.

So here I am in The Church of God in Christ. My entire small church is full of people with similar spiritual gifts. We are all a bunch of coffee drinking, fun-loving prayer warriors. Warrior just means you are willing to PUSH! (Pray Until Something Happens). Since I am alone a lot of the time I think stuff to God all the time. I just give Him permission to receive anything that goes through my mind. God has taught me that He respects our privacy and boundaries. When I get into a snit and don't want to have anything to do with Him. My God-noise leaves.

I was in an alcohol recovery program in San Francisco, just before becoming a Christian. I had played around with some very dangerous magic and I believe God saved me from being killed from some evil something that was attempting to crush my skull from all directions at once. How did I get myself into something like that?

I was so angry at God and everything else. I decided to scientifically prove there was no God by going through the Bible and attempting to do all the sins God really hated! Yeah, that is a very, very stupid and dangerous thing to do. I quickly realized that God really had a thing against any kind of magic. So, I found me some Pagans who used Nazi stuff to get energy to do their "rituals". They would take the energy from the Nazi objects and literally bless trees. I didn't really understand what they were doing. But the house we were all in was "infested" with some of the nastiest spiritual energy I've ever encountered.

My husband was exorcising something from an upstairs bedroom. I was in the basement with my lover. I perceived this entity was coming down the basement stairs. I put up my shields and all of that, but it made mince meat out of my protection as it landed on me. I knew if the pressure on my skull didn't stop I'd die.

To answer your next question; was I drinking, or doing drugs? No, it was so frightening, what took place, I wished I had been. But I was totally sober and knew I was in some big trouble. I shot up a foxhole prayer to God: "OK, I'll never doubt You or the Bible again. Please get this thing off of me!" All the pressure and the appearance of everything in the room being blood red stopped. I was alive.

But there had been something in that room. Every object capable of holding liquid was filled with a tarry substance which stank. It was an indescribably bad smell. I am very lucky to be alive. I was so arrogant and angry. I have wondered how God kept His patience with me for such a long time, in light of such over-the-top behavior.

So, back to how I got my "God noise". I'd just come out of all that awful stuff with magic. I'd gotten tangled up with something called a "psychic vampire". This is another human being who has the ability to tap into your body's energy and drain it. I started feeling like I had the flu all the time. I started having very strange nightmares. I started feeling another person attempting to take over my body from the inside out.

I had to get help to rid myself of this "presence". I was still very scared to be alone in a room. As I moved through the alcohol recovery process, I was rewarded with my own room. For most a real privilege, preparing one to return to real life. I was terrified beyond words.

I begged God to protect me. I was now a Christian, but I knew I couldn't tell anyone what I'd been through. Most people hear stories like that and blow it off. God answered my prayer. He had friends in the program give me statues of Jesus and pictures of Jesus. They sensed I was very frightened and said I could look at the statue and the picture of Jesus and He'd help me. I believed them.

Bedtime was the worst. I'd listen to Christian radio, but the terror would come on me. I finally got honest with God. Please give me something from You, so I won't feel totally alone and unprotected. I figured I'd rather hear something, than see something. I began to perceive a soft sound almost like a ringing in my ears. It isn't exactly the same. I have had real ringing in my ears and it is very different. I began to see that God had a personality and a will, just like me. He would not do "tricks" for me. I tried to "demand" my God noise to show up at my will. No dice. He's not around to entertain me, or satiate my curiosity.

When I'd pray, however, I would find that soft noise. Sometimes, when I really get into prayer, with my eyes closed, I see soft light, but that is rare. When I think about God, or am trying to share about Him, my God noise is always there. I can "hear" when others are praying for me. I don't hear words, but the God noise shows up when I'm doing something really spiritual. Like, when I'm listening to a song by The Rolling Stones! I never know who is praying, but the fact that someone is praying for me is totally obvious via what I was doing before I heard the God noise.

Being around other people who love to pray teaches you things. "Standing in the gap" for someone is attempting to pray while they go through what they asked you to pray about. Say, someone is asked to lead the Praise and Worship service. I have experienced people standing with me when I have faced difficult things. It is a joy to give that gift to a fellow traveler.

Some people have an entirely different prayer style. One friend claims he can fire off a healing prayer in thirty seconds! His prayers, for me, are very effective. He has a different constellation of spiritual gifts to share. Prayer style isn't important, it is where your heart is in relation to God.

So, I had to be up and praying at 7:15 for my friend. He just requested a quick prayer from me. I only do quick prayers when I'm in the middle of falling... I prefer a "chat" with God about whatever I've been requested to pray about. I run through the actual request the person has asked me to pass on to God. I then go through and claim promises out of God's word that apply to the situation. Somewhere in all of this, I laps into thankfulness for having a friend in the first place. Being thankful for everything is a wonderful way to keep your mind out of the emotional swamp of child abuse.

So I got up at 6:50 to have some time to drink some coffee to get my mind into shape so I could pray. I'd been fighting with a project the night before and didn't get to bed until about 3:30. But, I don't talk to anyone intelligently, until I've had some coffee.

Before Coffee: "Our Heaven, who art in Father..."
After Coffee: "Our Father who art in heaven..."

I have a wonderful set of memories about being dragged to a sunrise service before I was saved. I howled in protest and demanded coffee. This group didn't drink coffee, so I was out of luck. Fine, I got down on my knees at the top of this dew covered grassy hill to pray. The next thing I knew, someone was waking me up. Yeah, real spiritual, this one. Right.

At my first Church of God in Christ church, they held retreats which were actually endurance marathons. Meetings started at six AM and didn't break up until eleven PM over a three day weekend. The only way I could function was to drink lots and lots of coffee!

On my last retreat with this church, I'd been through a revelation about how important it is to pray when you tell people you will be praying. I got a kind letter from a friend thanking me for my prayers. (At that time, I prayed during the week with a partner at a set time.) He said that my prayers really helped get him through some stuff.

Only problem, when he thought I was praying, I was sleeping! I'd let my partner call me in the morning. No call, no prayer. Man, did I feel bad over that one! So, when we went on retreat to this monastery run by Franciscan Monks, I was determined to be up in prayer at 6 AM, when we were supposed to BE in prayer.

I had a good laugh when I discovered the coffee situation. I have no idea why these dear Monks need coffee that is so strong as to make Pete's coffee look week, but there it was! They had this little dispenser, where you'd take a packet with a cap at the top and slam it into the device to make a cup of coffee which almost raptured me without The Lord!

It was an absolutely beautiful retreat site. I'd get my coffee and sit on benches which overlooked the lush countryside. As I drank my first small cup of coffee for the morning I realized I was sweating and feeling very alert! (Over one eight ounce cup of coffee? What did Monks need this stuff for?) I thanked God for making it possible for me to truly be awake to talk to Him. Man, that coffee was something else again.

The other situation for a prayer person is how people are drawn to you to "share". They instinctively realize you can help them, even if they aren't religious. You are taken into people's confidence. I've had this happen to me all my life and have heard almost everything, I thought.

Recently, however, I had a conversation that totally stopped all rational thought. I am astounded to be trusted like this. I hurt for the people involved. My job is to pray. My pastor has preached about praying people losing their intercessory gift because they gossip instead of pray. It is a very, very serious and sacred responsibility.

I am grateful to my accountability/prayer partner for helping me adjust to a whole new level of holding something in confidence. She has had the same situation. We prayed together to help me truly turn the situation over to God. We never speak of details. Can't make a mistake if you keep it all under wraps. I learned that from my Psychologist. If you don't talk about it at all, you can't slip up.

From mental illness to constructive living. Not bad, my Lord, not bad at all. (((smile))).

My First Designer Hat.

As many of you know, I have some problems with what it means to be feminine. Now that I'm starting to explore imitating women I respect and admire, I realize I was jealous. All I knew from my background was that I sure as heck didn't want to be anything like my mother.

Look at the other 1950's role models. "I Love Lucy" is on the top of my barf list, but I hated all the happy family shows, as that world and my world were universes apart. I remember being confused in the 2nd grade when I noticed that both parents in "Fun With Dick and Jane" dressed in fancy clothes. My parents spent their time nude, or in filthy bathrobes.

Please understand. My mother was extremely mentally ill. I mean no disrespect towards her. One of the things I am really looking forward to in heaven is meeting my parents whole, healthy and happy. But I decided that being a male was the safest way to go. I didn't like my father's passive behavior, but when he'd finally hit my mother, she'd worked on him for hours!

I tried the gay lifestyle and wasn't any more successful in those relationships, then I was with the guys. I don't hate men as a matter of course and I just couldn't buy some of the politics of the women's movement. Although not being "cute", "frilly" or "stupid" was fine with me.

I am now deeply involved with my small church. We dress up for Sunday Service and the women are requested to wear a dress for every meeting (no matter how the men slep in). That is one of my sticking points, but to continue.

I am around truly noble, positive, smart and beautiful women. When they dress up on Sunday they sometimes have a hat to go with their jacket dress, or tailored suit. Most of the dresses come down to the floor, so I see a lovely woman walk in to church, wearing a flowing purple jacket dress topped with a matching hat. When she walks, it looks like she is almost floating, or flowing across the floor. I found myself wanting to look like that, to act like that. To have the quiet dignity which enables these women to confront with compassion, to love without shame and be fully alive as whole human beings.

I now realize that Phillip's knowledge of manicures, hairstyles and fashion scared me. It felt like he knew more about being a girl then I did! Until being with the women of my church, I'd never been around too many positive female role models. Now that I'm getting some idea of how if "feels" to be a woman, Phillip's skills don't intimidate me as much.

So, this year our annual District Convocation was held at the Oakland City Center Marriott. Aside from meetings and the regular classes of a conference, there is an entire long hall dedicated to selling the kind of clothes we like to wear for church. A very conservatively dressed, but glittering version of Dolly Parton. Sequins everywhere. Silver, or gold purses and hats. Also,beautiful shiny blouses that look almost like a mirror in fabric.

The hats are amazing. Everything from the squat and sequined (like mine) to the tall and or floppy. These hats are perfectly matched to the color of the outfit. The look is stunning. So, I was pretty sure I was going to try and get me a hat for Communion Sunday.

I figured on spending no more then $50. Well, it turns out that the lady selling the hats made them! She sold me a hat that had to be worth $120 for $80. I threw in an extra $10 because she was being so kind. I plan on doing a full news story on her and her business, later in this blog.

My friends at church were happy with and for me. They engaged in the friendly banter of sisters: "Ooh, girl, I'm scared of you!". I picked out the hat on my own and I've been told I did a very good job. All I know is I feel truly lovely and feminine when I'm all in white with this beautiful hat. It is easy to remember to move slowly and as gracefully as I am able. I seem to have less of a problem falling back into trying to act like a tom boy. It is a nice feeling.

See, there must really be a God (for my atheistic readers), because only a move of God could take a frustrated Jack Ryan want-to-be and turn her into a woman unafraid and unashamed to finally be who and what I really am.

Large Crowd Panic Attack.

I am noticing a pattern as I continue to heal. Whenever I experience positive growth emotionally, within hours or days something negative comes up which I thought I wouldn't have to go through again. I have been enjoying my denominations District Convocation. An week long convention held at the Oakland Marriott involving several thousand people. I have not attended every night, but have attended Tuesday, and Wednesday. I was preparing to go to the Saturday goings on, where I'd get to see our new Presiding Bishop for the entire denomination. On Wednesday, it appeared the preacher was "working the crowd".

After being deeply involved with Dr. Scott for 14 years, I've seen various ways of "working a crowd" in the name of God. Scott relied on fear and guilt with some flattery thrown in, just to be on the safe side. He told us we were worshiping God, but we were just being used to make him rich. Everything was a crisis. Everything came down to giving money.

This is the first year I've attended my denomination's local Convocation. Meetings with lovely music, a sound stage and at least two thousand people present for each night's service. The meetings are loud and designed to excite the audience to the possibilities of God coming across with a miracle in their lives.

But, then the old throw-money-at-your-problems gambit was pulled. "How bad do you want God to DO something in your life?" I went cold inside, but stayed for the rest of the service on Wednesday. I was very angry, but prayed with my Pastor, in case I was misreading the proceedings. Everyone else seemed totally caught up in the movement of the Spirit. I wanted to walk out, as a protest in disgust.

Saturday was the final night meeting with our denomination's presiding Bishop giving the sermon. I had a wonderful surprise when I got to the Marriott for a light dinner before the nights activities were to begin. My favorite waiter was working (as they were very busy hosting several conventions). I ordered a small Caesar Salad and coffee. I'd blown most of my money on a beautiful church hat, so I was watching my pennies.

James surprised me with a full sized dinner Caesar Salad and my favorite desert. He bought my dinner! I was truly stunned. I have been dining there for almost ten years. I am still amazed how lovingly I am treated by all the staff at the Marriott. It is always such a nice feeling when I dine with them. With dinner over, it was time for the night's meeting.

The Bishop again began to work the crowd, getting them all riled up for that miracle in their lives. I could feel the energy building and was not going to change my financial decisions, no matter what incentive was offered. Frankly, God has done so much for me, I have real difficulty getting in His face and demanding more. It just feels tacky and selfish to me. He's healed my mind, taken my back pain away and loved me in a thousand different ways. Why would I want to "demand" anything of such a loving Father?

As the intensity of the sermon continued to build I realized I was getting frightened, really frightened. I was having trouble breathing and felt a wave of nausea wash over me. I felt like I was being crushed inside. I haven't had a panic attack in years, but I realized I had to get out of that room and away from all the noise FAST.

I took my offering and hurried to the back. As I moved my panic was still mounting. I had to get OUT! My friend was following me, trying to persuade me that I was fine. I found an usher, shoved my offering into her hand, and explained that I was ill. (I learned a long time ago that keeping it simple and non-dramatic speeds up exits very nicely). My friend then wanted to get a ride for us. I just wanted to take a bus and get home, away from all the noise. I didn't want my friend to leave something I knew she was enjoying.

She finally let me take a bus and returned to the meeting. She was kind enough to call me when she got home, to make sure I was alright. I let her know I had experienced a panic attack. If I'd tried to force myself to stay, I might have gotten emotionally out of control, crying, or even screaming. I am so glad I followed my instincts about taking care of myself.

You might ask: what is a panic attack? It is a state of mind where your body and emotions swing into a severe flight reaction. I've only had a few of these, but they come on quickly and can escalate into hours of hysterical crying and screaming. For me they start with a very strong sense of danger and fear. My body reacts by pumping extra blood and Adrenalin into my system with a racing heart. I then feel like I can't get enough air into my lungs. At this point I know I have to try and get away from what ever is frightening me.

If I begin to have these episodes on a regular basis, I will have to see my doctor at my HMO, as it may mean I need a medication change, or some intervention, short-term group therapy. This is not necessarily a bad thing, or a failing on my part. I can't pray for God to heal a condition I'm not aware of having. It seems that each move forward into positive emotional growth gives me the strength to re-live some of the terror.

My pattern seems to be: I experience a sense of positive feelings, well-being and safety. Followed by re-living something seemingly negative. Once the negative memory, or reaction is out in the open, where I realize it is still a problem, I pray and God walks me through another level of faith and healing.

I did not return to the huge events on Sunday. Sunday School followed by another blow-out service. The room would be so packed that an announcement was made about not being allowed to save seats for people who weren't there yet. I really didn't want to endure another attempt to get my "hoper" all riled up, so I'd throw money at God. I'm glad others find this uplifting, but I find it depressing and down right frightening.

Thankfully, I know my Pastor understands the very real damage Dr. Scott inflicted on my ability to trust. I truly hope these meetings are authentic moves of the Spirit of God and not just flimflam in the name of faith. I have seen so much good in my church. This is the first set of meetings which have me wondering what is really going on. Like all things, time will tell. No human institution is without its faults and flaws. I will honor my sense of fright and wait to speak to pastor later in the week.

I look forward to returning to our small church with an attendance of about twenty-five people. I am surprised how frightened I became. It all happened so quickly. More healing work is going on, as old fears rise to the surface for God to heal. I am so grateful to have been able to get away from a situation which truly scared me. Time will show me how to handle crowds better in the future, but for now, I'm home, safe in the quiet of my room.

Emotional Thawing Out, Part 2.

My apologies to all that it has been such a long time since my last post. I am faced with a dilemma. I'm in the middle of some kind of amazing healing. I've arrived at a place I've never been before. I wanted to wait until I had a way of describing the changes that would be useful and clear. In short I'm now experiencing my feelings in real time, all the time.

It is very much like moving from black and white TV to color TV, or from a monophonic music player to one with stereo. This strange turn of events actually began with my awful upset about work and my latest "job". I had to decide how to view my world and the events in it. I had to admit that when it comes to going out there, selling myself, chasing the Holy Grail of work and all of the rest of that stuff, I have to stay far away, as the conflicts inside tempt me to return to suicidal thinking.

I have an easy test for all of you. If you attempt to do something and your reaction to the result is a return to wanting to kill yourself STOP! You may get stronger later in this life, but for the moment, STAND DOWN and turn to something that doesn't make you want to die!

I had to absolutely stop letting outsiders define my life. Whatever happens to me, from my viewpoint, comes from, or is permitted by God. Due to my terrible encounters with the world of work over the past several years, I frankly gave up. Yes, there it is friends. I gave up and honestly told God I'd HAD IT! I told God I would be happy with whatever He chose to put in my life. I would make efforts towards self improvement, but unless work came to me, I wouldn't chase after it.

Here's the wonderful thing about God. He knows where I am  in this process of spiritual growth. Frankly, when I reacted to the possibility of being ill-treated on a job with anger, that was probably healthy. When I was informed that the job was some one's attempt at "Charity" I fell into a pit of suicidal despair, I was disappointed in myself that I was still so sensitive in this area. However I decided to ignore what others were "calling" my work. I choose to assume God gave me a job.

After all, I have duties and I get paid. Even if poorly paid, its still a job. It no longer matters what others call this endeavor. God has also given me a potential job as a tutor for school children through my church. Thirdly, I have the unpaid "job" as webmaster and bulletin maker at my church. I only volunteered to make the bulletins. The other positions came to me. I did not seek them out.

Once I righted myself emotionally, with this turn of thought, I settled back down to living a life full of peace and adventure. While completing my last cat-sitting gig my emotional thaw-out began in earnest.

My routine with the cat is pretty straight forward. She'd get me up early in the morning, around 5 AM to let her outside.. I'd return to bed until around 8 AM. I'd get up, take my daily medication and put down the day's dry cat food, before settling down in the living room. 

Maggie would come in sometime after 9 AM, grab her first bit of food and "play" in my presence for awhile. She developed the habit of encouraging me to watch her as she would "perform". She'd bat toys around the large living room area. She'd leap straight up in the air, flip herself around and land after completing a graceful somersault. She'd then look back, to make sure I was indeed still watching her! I'd bring my coffee and my iPod into the living room and make myself comfortable sitting cross legged on the floor.

After Maggie went outside, on a Saturday morning, I made more coffee and returned to my place in the living room. I love to look outside and enjoy sun streaming through the tree leaves on this beautiful California spring day. I enjoy the way the colors change in a leafy tree when the sun streams through the foliage. It is a visual display of dappled green. It is made even prettier when the wind blows the leaves slightly and they move from place to place, changing color as they sway in the breeze. They go from the darkest green in the shade, to a very pale green when they are in the sun. I was filled with total joy taking in God's creation as viewed through the living room window.

I wondered how my life would have been different if I had succeeded in killing myself in 1979. To my utter shock I realized that everything I now hold dear wouldn't have happened. My growth and recovery did not even begin until I went to the altar and pleaded with Jesus to take my mess and let me be one of His own.

There is a clear dividing line between "before" and "after" becoming a Christian. Since I know many of my readers have difficulty with God and the religious thing, I deliberately did not post a gushing love for The Lord and blah, blah, blah,article. Until you get your feet on the ground mentally and begin to figure out what really happened to make you so crazy, you can't even understand the message of religion.

I clearly remember being told the Holy Spirit was a man, living inside of me. My reaction: nausea, as I assumed that now, even God was trying to have sex with me! A bit off on understanding the message, eh? So, I waited until something else happened that I thought might be a more useful entry for this blog.

Returning home I was back on my own computer and very happy. As I listened to one of my many podcast feeds Phillip sent me a text message. I have an audio queue for text messages and when I saw it was Phillip - POOF! I felt something. Not a huge something, but enough of a something to make me stop in my tracks. ("what the hell was THAT?") I inquired mentally. It wasn't a thought, or a mental picture, but I FELT something nice inside.

One of the great gifts of Phillip's friendship is the safety to ask him questions about feelings and situations. I absolutely trust him as a friend. He may not know an answer, but no matter how strange my question, he won't abandon me. Oh, that is such a wonderful gift. Poof - "safety".

How do I describe my feeling? It was like sensing a fragrance on the wind. A gentle positive feeling . It felt good, what was it, what emotion? Phillip replied that it was joy, with a lower case j. It is a mild happiness to see your friends online. He feels it too sometimes.

I was astounded. Before, I'd remember having a chat with Phillip and THEN feel a feeling. But this was going on in real time! Wow. But is this one incident enough to create a blog post over? Hardly. Something was shifting and tumbling inside me. I could sense I was healing in a totally different area of my life.

It didn't stop either. I found myself feeling little puffs of goodness over lots of things, especially being around people at church. The music at church is by far my favorite part of the service. We are usually standing side by side, clapping with the music, or raising our hands in response to God. Some people actually use Praise and Worship as part of their prayer time with God. It is a lovely thing to think good thoughts toward God while being engulfed with a favorite gospel song everyone is singing.

Jesus talks about having your focus undivided:

Matt. 6:22 The light of the body is the eye: if therefore thine eye be single, thy whole body shall be full of light.
Matt. 6:23 But if thine eye be evil, thy whole body shall be full of darkness. If therefore the light that is in thee be darkness, how great is that darkness!

I'm at this mega church gathering in a room of almost 1,000 people. I adore the song we are singing. I think of the above scripture. I turn to my left and see Bobbi swaying and clapping to the music - poof! "Bobbi happiness". I turn to my right and see Gretta gently swaying, with arms raised towards heaven - poof! "Gretta happiness". I look in front of me and see a man I don't know dancing in front of his chair, obviously expressing joy - poof! "worship happiness".

Wave after wave of nice feelings were tumbling and swirling around my mind and body. Poof! "I'm getting whole inside!" God I love you! POOF! "God love!" (That particular reaction was huge. The hair on my arms stood up). My feelings tumbled around like clothes in a dryer. It felt wonderful and scary at the same time. I couldn't wait to get home to tell my girlfriend what I just figured out.

Now I get it why people feel good to her! When they are with you and you can feel feelings, it is a whole new dimension to life. Poof! "Understanding satisfaction." My girlfriend was indeed happy for me. We had shared our "if you had one more day to live" plans. She would spend the last day with close friends, eating and talking. I would spend my last day on earth at the Marriott Hotel. I'd be alone, swimming, eating and just hanging out. My girlfriend seemed shocked and asked: "...but where are the people?" I had retorted that the last thing I wanted to be around for my last day on earth would be people! I might take someone out for lunch maybe, but I wanted to experience the Marriott alone. She was truly stunned and I'd flagged her reaction as something I deeply wanted to understand, but currently, didn't have a clue.

Within days I was swamped with feelings. I had reactions to people, plants, animals, books and things I'd read in a friendly email. I had taken a brave step with Phillip, months ago, asking him questions about "what does it mean when..." I now decided to experiment with trusting another person with similar questions. I started to cry. (Oh, no!) Poof! "relief and gratitude". Gretta not only listened to my stammered tale of emotional release, but shared some of her personal story. I wasn't the only one to use books to try and figure out the world...

I felt like I was breaking out of terrible isolation that had always encircle me. I used to have dreams of being encased in a clear plastic cube. I could hear and see, but no one could touch me, or hurt me. It was safe, but utterly isolating. Even when I wanted to, I couldn't ever leave that invisible cube.

I've laughed, cried and even gotten angry, in real time! I have to learn restraint. Just because I have a feeling doesn't mean it is a good idea to act on it. I was at a meeting last night where the pastor said something that enraged me. My first gut reaction was to get up and DRAMATICALLY walk out. I decided against this action. as I saw that everyone else was experiencing something good. My memories of Dr. Scott and his strong-arm fund raising tactics caused me to react very differently.

I waited until I had a chance to speak to my pastor. I prayed about my attitude. I do not want to think ill of someone, if they are not doing evil. But I was so ANGRY! Hello adulthood, what a strange place Adulthood is!

I am thankful that people in my church recognize the healing I am experiencing. Life has a whole new texture. It "HAS" a texture! I'm still walking around like that guy from a small town who gets off a bus in down town New York. He wonders around in a complete daze for awhile.
So, that is why I haven't posted in so long. It is wonderful to feel. You have to use common sense about sharing some of this.

Not everyone is equipped to accept this part of my story. There is a very kind man at church, who likes to shake hands, rather then share a hug. I doubt he'd know how to respond if I asked him about what a reaction to a situation meant. But, he sees my happiness and shares in it. I have several friends who are filling in the gaps for me, as needed. poof! "satisfaction". I now move on to a more focused post about my very first hand-made designer hat.

Our Declining World Culture. Where Have All The Morals Gone?

I was born in 1953 post war America. In our upper middle class neighborhood the scandal of the day was some teenager stealing peoples mail, out of their mailboxes and dumping it down the street drains.

Today we have mass shootings, genocide and contaminated products being pawned off on unsuspecting consumers, world wide. Where has our sense of right and wrong gone? Sadly, I believe I found the answer from part of a book by Ravi Zacharias. Are you sure a world with no absolute truth ,rules or values is the world you want to live in?

Recapture the wonder by Ravi Zacharias

What children Have Lost

In the 1950’s kids lost their innocence. They were liberated from their parents by a
well paying job, cars and lyrics in music that gave rise to a new term: “the generation gap”.

In the 1960’s kids lost their authority. It was a decade of protest. Church, state and
parents were all called into question and found wanting. Their authority was rejected, yet nothing ever replaced it.

In the 1970’s kids lost their love. It was a decade of "me-ism” dominated by hyphen-
ated words beginning with “self". Self-image, self-esteem, self-assertion, it made for a lonely world. Kids learned everything there was to know about sex and forgot everything there was to know about love. No one had the nerve to tell them that there was a difference.

In the 1980’s kids lost their hope. Stripped of innocence, authority and love and
plagued by the horror of a nuclear nightmare, large and growing numbers of this generation stopped believing in the future.

In the 1990’s kids lost their power to reason. Less and less were they taught the very basics of language, truth and logic. And they grew up with the irrationality of a post modern world.

In the new Millennium kids woke up and found out that somewhere in the midst of
all this change they’d lost their imagination. Violence and perversion entertained
them till none could talk of killing innocence since none was innocent anymore. The
slide into despair began early, decades ago. The lack of innocence which is in reality the lack of wonder has a direct bearing on hopelessness and evil. The loss of wonder sets the stage for cynicism and doubt and unbelief.