My whole goal in writing is to reach people in hopes of touching them in some way. I simply want to provoke an emotion in whomever reads my writing – whatever that emotion may be. So, I’m honored to be awarded the “Very Inspiring Blogger Award”. Thank you Elizabeth! Please check out her blog at www.theartofpsychology.wordpress.com. It’s highly entertaining and extremely educational.
Here are the rules for accepting the Award:
Display the award logo.
Thank the person that nominated you and link back to them in your post.
State 7 interesting things about yourself.
Nominate 15 other bloggers for this award and link to them.
Leave a comment on each of the blogs letting them know they have been nominated.
7 interesting things about me:
1. I ruminate over every little thing, making myself physically ill with migraines, neck rashes and cold sores.
2. I hate baked cookies, but will whip up a batch of raw cookie dough and go to town.
3. Even at 34, I want my mommy more than a toddler.
4. I cry about once a week.
5. I live my life according to Astrology; I judge people by their astrological signs, read my monthly horoscope and have “my” psychic.
6. My left foot is 1/2 size larger than my right, creating extreme problems in my life.
7. Growing up, I pretty much only watched: “I Dream of Jeannie”, “Murder She Wrote”, “Laverne & Shirley”, “Alfred Hitchcock Presents”, and “I Love Lucy”.
My 15 nominees for the “Very Inspiring Blogger Award” (in no particular order):
I love my job, I love my job not, oh screw it, I need a drink.
I have a love/hate relationship with my job. I’ll start with the love, because maybe, just maybe, that’ll soften the hate part. Okay, so I love helping people, well most days I do. I mean, it’s the whole reason I got into this profession. I distinctly remember having the conversation with my mom, before I went off to college. We were in my bedroom, sitting on the buttercream-icing colored carpet, doing a pro/con list of what my major should be: English or psychology.
From as far back as I can remember, I’ve had an affinity for books. Their smell turns me on, I get high going to the place you can buy them, you know the bookstore, and words do funny things to my body. Like, they seriously turn me on. As a kid, I had a book in my hands, in front of my face, or in close proximity, all of the time. Of course, this caused me to miss the school bus countless times and zone out of life, a lot of the time. I would answer the phone in the midst of a spellbound chapter of Sweet Valley High, but the most that would come out of my mouth was, “Hello” and then I would fall back into the daily happenings of Jessica and Elizabeth Wakefield. I was reprimanded, but really, I didn’t give a shit. It just meant more alone time – in my room – with my gaggle of besties: R.L. Stine, Francine Pascal, V.C. Andrews, and Carolyn Keene. In other words, I was a loner.
So, naturally it was assumed I would study English or some form of writing, which is an excellent assumption. But, besides being book-obsessed, I’m wildly indecisive. Like, to the point I could go on Intervention. But, I’m jumping ahead of myself. Before my career indecision, you must know why there was any in the first place. Allow me to tell you.
During my childhood, besides allowing me to stockpile books, my mom stockpiled needy people. Really, our house was like a home for wayward and disadvantaged individuals. The only thing missing was the donations. My family owned a restaurant, and a lot of our employees were teens – who were troubled. Well, Mom wanted to help, so we fixed up the spare bedroom for the knocked-up 15-year-old waitress, after her parents kicked her out. When her round finished, the 16-year-old cook, whose parents were atrocious, moved in. And, in the interim, my mom bailed out our 47-year-old daytime waitress from jail and drove her to and from work. The chick had earned herself a DUI; Mom earned herself a gold star in Heaven.
So, you can understand where helping was infused into my system. Sort of like cucumber is infused into vodka. Enter my dilemma. I wanted to write badly. So, so badly. More than I wanted an Incredible Hulk Tricycle, to eat cherry chip cake batter for every meal, or to be an only child. But, doing what I wanted made me feel guilty. My mom taught my brother, sister, and me self-sacrifice, which is a good lesson. But, I’m a self-loather and took it to the extreme. Meaning, I felt that I must put others’ needs before mine and make myself miserable in the process.
Let me clarify: I don’t mean helping people makes me unhappy. It’s actually quite the opposite and has become second nature to me. I just mean I didn’t know there were other ways of helping people besides letting them shack up with you. I didn’t know my writing could touch people; that they could relate to what I’m saying, and my situations could be an impetus for change in their lives. Or, more simply, my words could be a form of comfort to them; letting them know they’re not alone in this fucked-up world.
And, this world is fucked-up. I see it every day, at work. And, that’s where the hate part comes in. I hate seeing what people do to each other. I hate having a mother tell me she “didn’t really mean” to try to give away her 2-year-old daughter, in exchange for a firearm. I hate having a 32-year-old man tell me his mom sold him for a gram of heroin. I hate having to listen to a 52-year-old man tell me about violating little boys. I hate having to listen to a 19-year-old girl recount how her brother raped her. It crushes my heart while simultaneously pisses me off.
But, at the same time, I love helping. I love helping the 21-year-old young guy who had his first psychotic break and is petrified out of his mind. I love offering comfort to the mother of the teen girl who is destroying her arms with razor blades. I love suggesting coping skills and giving hope to the middle-aged man who’s in a psych hospital because his wife left him and the stress is absolutely overwhelming. It swells my heart and makes me feel more joy than should be legal.
So, maybe we’re not meant to do just one thing in this world. Maybe doing various things in life offers us the experience necessary to excel and touch people in diverse ways. And, maybe we have to see the bad to appreciate the good. I mean, how else are you gonna know how delicious red wine is until you try white?
My whole goal in writing is to reach people in hopes of touching them in some way. I simply want to provoke an emotion in whomever reads my writing – whatever that emotion may be. So, I’m honored to be awarded the “Very Inspiring Blogger Award”. Thank you Elizabeth! Please check out her blog at www.theartofpsychology.wordpress.com. It’s highly entertaining and extremely educational.
FOR KREIN OUT LOUD 