Let me say first in my infinite wisdom gathered over many, many years of observation that I know exactly what I am talking about, and you don’t. Also, I hate everybody who thinks I’m too old. I’m just as spry as I was decades ago! Continue reading
Anyone who has undergone a DBT skills class has no doubt heard of the dreaded DEAR MAN. (Oh, excuse me, the DEAR MAN GIVE FAST.) For those lucky suckers who have never sat through the countless worksheets that make up DBT, DEAR MAN is a mnemonic device meant to help you ask people for shit. Allow me to say that it is unnecessarily complicated and generally annoying as hell. Here’s why, in an example. Continue reading
“Yeah, of course. I’ll call you this weekend.”
You smile a little to yourself, pleased that you and Cool Person will finally get the chance to hang out and that you’ll certainly be getting out of your apartment this weekend. When your pool friends ask how your weekend went, you’ll respond, “It was great!” instead of the usual forced smile and half-shrug with “I just relaxed, watched some TV, caught a breather” when you know damn well that you’ve been taking that breather for quite some time.
So you keep your phone a little closer all week, but it refuses to buzz. You send an innocuous text on Thursday afternoon of: “Hey! So, what are you thinking for the weekend?” No buzz. Not wanting to be a pain in the ass, you wait. It isn’t until Sunday afternoon that you give up and throw some pizza bites in the oven.
Tonight, I want to share something I wrote maybe a year ago. It’s an excerpt from an expository piece I wrote on my time in a South Carolina psych ward. I don’t expect any trigger warnings in here, but if you’ve been committed before, take some care.
First, let me acknowledge the cheesiness of the alliteration in this particular title. Second, I’ve stared at this post screen for a good half an hour so far trying to figure out what I can offer that is both sarcastic and mindful.
I’m not there today. I’m feeling neither sarcastic nor mindful, though L begged me to return to a sitting (or even walking practice) earlier today, even for just ten minutes if that’s all I can manage. Well, technically speaking, I am carrying out a sitting practice, one that lasts for at least 8 hours a day… sitting on my ass at my desk working and trying to piece things together. (There– I managed a bit of snark. You’re welcome.)