Thoughts to share, when no one's around: 4 options!

     When you quickly find yourself living alone (even if it is temporary), there may come a time in which you have a thought that you just need to share. In some circumstances you might not have very many options. So on one of those many lonely nights, with billions of thoughts racing through your head.... at least a few things will want to be heard.

     Here are my options as I see them. Maybe you can relate to a few....


  1) Hold it in.

  2) Run out and find the first person who stops, and start talking.

  3) Talk to yourself.

  4) Talk to the T.V., computer, or books.


  That was pretty much all I came up with. This is the problem with those solutions.


  1) If you hold it in:

        a) You might go a little batty

        b) The next loved one you talk to will THINK you've gone batty. 

           Think about it, you're probably speaking really fast, rambling incessantly, 

           and unable to let them get a word in edgewise.

  2) If you start talking to the first person you meet.

        a) Well, you will out of necessity have to speak as much as possible as

           fast as possible. (Already- this is questionable) 

        b) If they are still there- check for these three things: Are they about to

           hit you? Have they called the cops? Do they speak English? Do you 

           care? (The last question is what kills it for me.)

  3) Talking to yourself.

        a) In my opinion, this is the best option. A small comment here and 

           there. It relieves that urge. You can hopefully remember to tell someone

           for REAL later. Most importantly, it gets out.

  4) Talking to the T.V., computer or books. 

        a) Really, let's call this what it is. This is not talking. This generally leans 

           towards ranting. When you have been irritated enough by whatever is 

           on the tele, or that you've just read on the net or in a book, and so you

           must comment. You have to comment. However we can only hope that 

           while this is bound to happen, these types of irritations are not so constant. 

           It wouldn't be healthy. For that matter it wouldn't be prudent for me to suggest

           it.

     As you have read, letting out the occasional thought, is the way I choose to go. It might not be for everyone. It serves me well. Still can't wait until there are 2 people here again, but it will do for now.


kimbersfrog

The Tabloid!!!!!!

      I am fully aware that reading a tabloid magazine is the same a watching The Jerry Springer Show. But when I received that tabloid in the mail as a surprise from my sister, damn, I was so excited! For one thing, I have run out of English books to read. All I have are English teaching books and supplies, you can only read those so many times. They are definitely not made for fun, I usually don't even use them for classes.
     Now, however, now I have a tabloid! So it's full of erroneous baloney, but it's in English. Plus, truly, can you deny that it's not on some deep, disturbing, dark, level, entertaining AND funny. Come on, admit it. I could give you a very strong argument as to why you really aren't so different even if you have never touched one of these mags or watched Jerry. The truth is, it's really not important. I honestly don't care.
     I have trouble admitting some things about myself (to myself). The reason for that, well I might actually have to do something about it, like work on improving myself, or accepting it about myself. Ewww. Sadly, it is not only hard for me to lie to others but I can't lie to myself either. Damn shame. But in this particular case, the tabloid (which will remain nameless) enjoying....I have absolutely no hesitation in saying to myself or the rest of the world, "hello, I enjoy these immensely!!!"  
     My real intent with this post was to show how much a little thing can do. I must say it has taken a turn, and lost the plot a bit. I'll just leave you with this: if the world really did have to deal with: nasty psychics, half-baked medical information, a current day generation of witches that talk to their ancestor witch gods and can't get a meeting with important people to save the planet as we know it, ancient earth forms (several types) that all scare the scientists, animal psychics, etc. all in one week or month or what-have-you... all I can say is CRAP- nice knowing you!

    Well, I suggest you go out and buy one once a year and get a good laugh, if you don't want to contribute to their profit, I'm sure you can find one on the subway or on a bench somewhere. Just food for thought.

kimbersfrog

Less than a second- no control.

       Taking my medicine a couple times a day is a daily reminder that I am an epileptic. In fact in some ways it kind of grounds me by reminding me that any second, minute, or day things could be dramatically different. Today I had yet another reminder of how quickly we can go from walking, talking, and laughing it up, to lying in a hospital bed- or worse. I had some seizure activity as a car was crossing my path. This is a completely different level of reacquainting myself with the delicacy of life.
       I had just come to a stop on the corner. The car was crossing. I was waiting. A click in the middle of my head.Then my head, shoulders, and foot (all at once) ever so slightly moved forward. No control. All in under a second. I am pretty certain no one, including the driver noticed.
       Luckily that's all it was. No big jerks. No petite-mal. No grand-mal. It does however, make it impossible to ignore how incredibly fragile life is. It's not just life that is so frail, it's life as we know it.
       Of course the moments after this happened, I was a bit in auto pilot. I looked extra carefully at the street, and crossed. And now I begin to think as I continue home. I'm thinking, "It's only five minutes," and, "yeah but I still have a lot of roads to cross." Basically, a moment like that is like a giant bitch-slap of stress. Instant anxiety.
       So, all the way home I had to try to ease the tension out. Ha! Slow measured strides. Slow measured breathing. Thinking to myself, "I can make it back, I can make it back," over and over again. All I could do was ease the physical tension, until I got home. Then I could lay down and relax my mind.
      I made it home. There were no big catastrophes. I thought that was a big bonus! Unfortunately the flinches have not stopped. It's been five hours now. They have not gotten worse- that's good! But they have not subsided either- not so good. They are only happening two or three times an hour. So....
      It's weird, I've said before- I have problems with people being around when I have seizure activity of any sort. I will say though, being alone with it, truly sucks. There really is no better word for how it feels in my core. It just sucks.
      When I'm alone and this stuff happens- the questions come into my head and it's harder to get them out. 'Should I cook?', 'Would it be better to wait to go to the bathroom?', 'Can I use a knife to cut my food?', 'Which position will cause less bruising? Does it matter?', 'How long until someone finds me writhing in pain on the floor?', and of course last but definitely not least, 'How long until someone finds my body?' That last one I generally shove out of my head pretty quickly just for self-preservation. Those questions are why I hate having any form of epileptic activity by myself.
       Now I wait. Hoping they will fade. Hoping that I will get tired enough that I will be able to sleep early (I've kind of missed that boat already). I am happy that for once I live on the first floor!

kimbersfrog

Is it possible?

               First I will tell you all, I am a BIG dork. Yes, I'm a goofy, lovable (mostly), weird but normal, dork! You may have already figured that out. You might already know me, in which case, feel free to skip ahead. It is not a cut on myself I feel lucky that dorkiness is a part of who I am.
              Now that that's clear, my question, "Is it possible?", relates to my dorkiness. If I can manage to 'out dork' myself continually throughout my life, is it really possible to be even more dorky in a new language? I know, for me it's not hard to be a dork, for me it's a bit like melting ice cream. You can keep eating it. You can keep licking up the drips. However, you can not stop the ice cream from melting or your hands from getting sticky. It's just nature taking it's course.
             Well, on my way home from yet another interview today, I was thinking in Spanish again. I was trying however to think of things that might work as idioms or quick comebacks, etc.. All of the sudden this came to mind, '¡Habla!, a la mano.' Now, for those of you who don't know Spanish and even those of you who do....I'll translate what I was thinking. 'Talk to the hand!'
             The first problem with this: I have absolutely no idea if this works, not only in Spanish, but culturally. There is a second problem, which might even big a bigger one. If I can't even manage to say it in English with convincing attitude, what in the world makes me think that I could in any way, shape or form pull it off in a language I am JUST beginning to get a grip on? You see the problem right?
              Unfortunately, it is now stuck in my head. It's rattling around there just looking for a chance to leap out of my mouth at the most inopportune moment. I can just feel it. So really that is where the question truly begins. That moment, the one that may or may not happen. If the time comes, and those words fly ridiculously through the air at someone... and I of course start laughing at my own joke (because I AM a dork!).
             Have I then become a bigger dork in my second language?

Food for thought anyway.

kimbersfrog

Thanks for your Support....

                This is probably going to be an anomaly for me. I am going to write a bit about the conversation I just had with my boyfriend. NO, not the details or the mushy bits, I just think the heart of the conversation needs to be observed. 
                Today, other than being a wee bit pessimistic in the morning, I had a pretty good day. Rainy mornings can bring out pessimism in anyone who is going to hang their laundry out to dry. Lucky for me, the day brightened up, my laundry dried, and I got to have Spanish conversations all over the place. That might be a mild exaggeration, but I did converse with more than just my boyfriend's family, which is a good step. I took some video of the kids (nieces and nephews) and went home.
               Once inside, I started to work on some verb conjugations, which oddly is comforting to me. I know, it's weird, but I have learned to just enjoy the calm. This evening the calm, the comfort, they were escaping me. All I could think about was the woman I talked to in the store. She like me was a customer, but unlike other customer run-ins I've had, we actually conversed. Oh, yeah.... and I understood her! What's more, she understood me. Right, I know. You think I'm making it all up. Think it if you want, but at least I will always have that chat.
               I am glad to always be able to have that conversation. Surprisingly it had a delayed side-effect. Who knew? This little chat that had made me so happy in the store, was not just deflating me later, but I was in danger of being drowned by it. I kept thinking, 'She understood me, that was clear.' But the most important part to me, created the question that was haunting me. 'Did she understand what I meant with the right connotation?' And that, my friends, is what started to mess with my mind.
              If I didn't care about nuance, details, or love language then I probably would have absolutely no issue right now. Unfortunately, I find language absolutely fascinating. I happen to think that if you can find the word or combination of words that give your thoughts or description or action the exact meaning, you can create magic. There are so many wonderful words. If you choose one word over another that means virtually the same thing, the word you choose can make or break your description depending on it's connotation. These nuances exist whether we have language or not to express them. And I am admittedly spoiled in having a large vocabulary in my native language with which to express myself. Now I find myself at a loss.
              The most ridiculous part is my Spanish is rapidly improving. This particular conversation, that took me by surprise (never does that bode well for my conversational skills) should have been a mood lifter. Period. All I could think about once I got home was, I don't know all the connotations in Castellano. I need to know them to properly express myself. No one will really know me until I can really truly say what I mean, connotations and all.
             Later when my boyfriend called, I told him about it. I almost didn't because I wanted to make sure he knew, I was not regretting anything. It's just something I know I am going to go through here and there, but I might need some support at times. He is the perfect person to talk to about this. Although he didn't move to a country that didn't speak his native tongue for the same reasons, he still did it. When he first moved from Spain, it was to Britain. He had no English, other than 'Hi' ,'hello', maybe one or two other words. So in short he had nothing to go on. Tonight I needed his support as my boyfriend, but I also needed his support as my friend.
             Do you know what? He came through. He didn't hand me bull and tell me, 'Oh, you will know it by tomorrow.' He did however, kindly point out that I had only been here for two months. And reminded me of some of his trials in communication whilst learning English. He let me talk about it as long as I needed to, and then we went on to other things.

           My point being, sometimes when someone has really done well by you. It needs to be pointed out. Thanks babe.
kimbersfrog

Boys wil be boys....heeheehee

              I know this may not be an entry of a disturbing incident, deep emotion, or even anything shocking. I absolutely have to tell it though. It's quick and silly, but anyone who remembers their youth at all or anyone who has a child will be able to chuckle at this.
              After getting my groceries and desperately needed toilet paper, I started on my short walk home. It must have rained quickly whilst I was in the store, because the streets were wet but not soaked. Of course, I slipped right as I passed a few people... which made me laugh out loud, and made them look at me like I was crazy- go figure. (although that's not the funny part, it was amusing)
             Now, as I'm crossing the street, I'm wondering why me laughing at myself was crazy. So I began trying to form a question-answer conversation about it in Spanish. I only got part way through the first question when something grabbed my attention. I was crossing the street, but I noticed there was a car who had stopped in the middle of the street. He was looking at something over to the side, with a big grin and shaking his head in amusement.
           Then I heard it. A woman, she was saying something in Spanish that I couldn't quite get. Her voice was loud but she wasn't yelling. Her tone was like a recipe. If you take a bit of exasperation, a tiny bit of weariness, a healthy dose of amusement that is trying desperately to be hidden, a dash of parental control (which she couldn't truly put her heart into because I think she was a too amused and quite tired), and finally a spoonful of, 'i just lost the battle', that was the voice I heard. So, I knew there had to be a child around somewhere.
          As I got a little closer, I first noticed on the opposite side of the street several passers-by were politely trying to hide their amusement. Now, I can see tiny little legs a few feet from adult legs in a dress, behind a truck... this must be them. But wait, it's not just that. Those tiny little legs were accompanied by a stream of liquid going straight into a drain in the driveway. And this was not just your regular, 'I have to go and can't wait....' He was having fun!
          I could see circles, squares, and I believe he might have started aiming for certain spots on the drain. I had now come to the edge of the truck though, so I didn't want to stare.
          I could not for the life of me, get the silly grin off my face. I was giggling away. I couldn't help myself. If only, as adults, we could all find something as goofy to do (maybe not peeing in the streets), but fun and silly. We might be a lot less stressed out. Just sayin'.

I had to write about this. It couldn't go without telling, even if I didn't do it justice. I walked back hoping to see someone I knew to tell it to. I realized I could tell the whole story except for the word "pee". No matter how I came at the sentence I couldn't explain it well. The best way to explain it would have been action. Unfortunately that same action can be taken in a very different way. So I decided to button my lip and wait for an English moment, then learn the word for pee in Spanish.

Hope you giggled just a little
kimbersfrog

Epileptic vs. Persons with Epilepsy

          A few months back, I was made aware that ALL epileptics are offended by the term epileptic and could I please refrain from using it, but instead refer to 'them' as persons with epilepsy. Okay. First, in all fairness I did not know this, so I am actually glad to have been made aware of it. I am happy to call someone a person with epilepsy if that is what they prefer. However, this was the head of an epilepsy organization I wrote to (I will not name them because I do think her heart was in the right place). In my letter to her I was asking about volunteering in Europe and Britain, and subsequently told her about my epilepsy. I believe the most offensive part to me was that she wrote everything to me in a very polite but personal tone until, she decided to tell me what not to do. That group of people she was referring to included me, yet she decided to use the third person. I felt it to be unnecessarily rude. I also think that no one should tell me what to call myself. Nor should anyone who would like to be called a person with epilepsy. Whatever you feel fits and is comfortable, should be what you go with. People should respect that, if they don't...tell them to go pound salt. (NOT that I have an opinion)

    My reasons for preferring epileptic? Epilepsy has brought many things to my life, good and bad. Let's see, to start... we've got; pain (physical and emotional), anger, fear, worry, anxiety, confusion, memory loss, medications, bills and more bills. I have also been privy to a prejudice I had only hated from afar before. And I have been shown injustices from the inside, injustices that I had heated debates about but still was on the outside... now I am seeing it from the inside. I am one of those people I was self-righteously defending, in my idealistic youth. However as much as I hate to admit it, in certain specific instances... I can see the other side has a point as well, I don't like it, but it is true. Epilepsy has also brought discomfort into social situations, although I must admit, on this one, probably more for the  others around me than myself. 

    Along with all these bad things epilepsy has managed to bring with it some pretty wonderful things too! And for that, I am eternally grateful. I was lucky enough to get a chance to rebuild a relationship with my parents, that I mightn't have gotten otherwise. Out of instinct, or need for survival, call it what you like, I learned how to ease the tension from my body, and calm myself down. This lessened my stress levels which lessened the chances of more seizure activity. Those coping skills however, have served me well, in many other aspects of life. It has also made me realize how quickly our lives can change dramatically. In one second we can be gone from this earth, or 100 times worse off than we are now (and that goes for everyone). This is why as much as I can I live for the day.

However no man is an island, and this is real life. I do the best I can. But the absolute, most amazing thing epilepsy has helped me with is my resolve and strength (if that's not to redundant for you). If life throws something at me... I know I'll get through it. And apparently life loves to throw crap... who knew, worse yet I'm the freakin' outhouse! (I have a feeling a ginormous amount of people... yes ginormous...probably feel like the outhouse... we can all feel each others pain) Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying things are easy and bad stuff just bounces right off... I just am strong enough to deal with it. Some things might take a day, a week, a year. As long as I remember what I've been through already, that I know I can, that I am willing to work through it, and that I don't want to feel bad.

     It is not that epilepsy alone did any of this to me or for me. As far as the strength goes.. it helped me find it within myself. It could have taken a much longer time to find it otherwise. In that case I might not have done so many of the things I've done, for lack of courage alone. 

     So, looking beyond the fact that linguistically 'epileptic' is exactly the correct word for someone who has epilepsy, I am also happy to associate myself with it. Epilepsy is a large part of who I am. Just as being a woman and a dork are large parts of who I am. I have many facets to myself that I find to be large parts of my very being. Are any one thing of those who I am? No. I am all of those things.

    I guess that is where the problem lies. A lot of epileptics don't want people to look at them and be thinking, "the epileptic girl." Well, I understand that. I wouldn't want someone just picking one aspect of my personality and deciding for me that it was all I am. However, I don't believe that most (I'm sure there are a few... but aren't there always exceptions to the rule) people once they find out don't really care all that much beyond morbid curiosity. In fact sometimes they ask a couple of questions then they really seem annoyed with themselves for getting into the conversation, because they don't really care enough about it to learn about it. That was point one. Point two, a lot of people will forget, because you are not that important to them. Now points one and two are sad... but it's reality, it is a pretty cold world out there. Point three, this is tougher, because alot of times this happens to people you know better or are around alot. One of these people just finds out you are an epileptic. They say something to the effect of, "ohhh, I didn't know you were an epileptic." I know people that get upset with this. I don't. Yes there are some people who will now have your face next to the word epileptic in their head, always... not many. I think most people, don't realize they are saying something that could be taken offensively. In fact I think they are trying to do the opposite in an awkward way. People never know what to say, they don't know how you feel about it. I can't imagine that anyone who is reading this epileptic or not, has never said anything that might be offensive to someone or some group. You probably didn't even mean it, but somebody could have taken it in a bad way. 

     So for me, I feel the only way to give the word power in a negative way is to let it hurt you, one. The other is to let it have power over you.  I use the word in a positive light and I think anyone who has a problem with that can take a hike. If you are offended by it and are an epileptic, then don't use it by all means... but to be fair, don't condemn others for wanting to.

    I think I have given far more reasons and opinions than I intended. But my reasoning was simple. When I do write stories about epilepsy, they will generally be in first person. Therefore, I will probably be using the term epileptic. I am NOT doing this to offend. Now however, you know my reasons.

thank you... and good fortune

kimbersfrog