Mood:  happy

Self Esteem

“I am worthless. I’ve been around a long time and look what I have to show for it, nothing. I’m surprised my mirror hasn’t shattered from my ugliness. I am as dumb as a pile of rocks.”

Does this sound familiar? Do you hear yourself saying this? I did. But the bottom line is, you’re wrong. You may be right about being around a long time, but the rest of that statement is total rubbish.

If you have children and friends, you have accomplished something. No friends? Would you want to be around someone who is always negative like that? I didn’t think so. Look at what you are good at and put your focus there.

You’re ugly? Who says so? You? Don’t listen to the low opinions from others. You are good looking. You may not be model material but good looking nonetheless,

How dumb are you? If you can read, you can learn. Read, talk to others, but learn. Do not let your intelligence or lack of it, bring you down.

Look at yourself closely. Yes, there are some parts that aren’t the greatest, but forget about them. Put those out of your mind. Only focus on what there is about you that is good. If it’s hard, then just start with the little things and work up. You can do it, and you must!

Posted by theessaywriter at 2:01 PM CDT

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Mood:  happy

Let’s Talk Abuse

“Why is Kara so quiet? Last year I could barely shut her up.”

This is a situation that occurs all too frequently. It is not always abuse and even when it is, it goes unreported. Children are easily intimidated and most of the time it is a fellow family member as the source. Report the abuse and you’ll lose this happy home, or life. This abuser or set of abusers must be stopped, but how do you convince a child? How many years will this trauma haunt her or him? When it comes to child abuse, gender does not come into play.

What can be done? Ask questions, talk to this child, to his/her friends. The signs of abuse are not always visible. Trust what the child says but listen closely. There will be hints of truth, either in the words or tone of voice. Only when abuse is strongly suspected should authorities be contacted. Granted that police, medical personnel, and social services must be involved. But bringing in authority figures and no abuse is detected, this family will be forever marked. This instills a stigma that is hard to escape.

Or the obverse is to do nothing. Now the abused child has little chance. The abuse will continue. If he/she lives through this, they will be traumatized, scarred, for life. This also is a future abuser. It happened to them, it must be the way life really is. Only a fraction of these survivors seek help.

A few abused do seek help. Listen to their stories. It is from them that we learn the signs. We learn how to tell abuse from normal discipline. It is up to everyone to stamp out this plague called child abuse.

Posted by theessaywriter at 1:22 PM CDT

Updated: Saturday, 16 August 2008 1:22 PM CDT

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Mood:  happy

How it Starts, How it Ends

”That cigarette smells sweet.”

“Wanna try it?”

A simple beginning, one marijuana cigarette in a household where smoking it is a common practice. Get the children started early enough and they soon crave more and stronger. How soon will these children graduate to cocaine or heroin? It won’t be long. They need to pay for these drugs but you don’t see too many teenage CEO’s with a six-figure income. Their options are low pay in a burger joint or prostitution and/or dealing drugs.

Do you want your children growing up in that environment? How about your friends and other family members? You have only two choices. You can ignore it and hope it goes away or you can do something. Read about it. Tell others that a change has to be made, get the schools involved. It doesn’t matter what you do, but do something!

Neither you nor I alone can change it. But together we can. Have a computer? Use it to post warnings. The kids use it to find recipes for making drugs. Kids develop their own language, their own code. Learn it. Pay attention to what they say and do. A good starting point is Marvin Wilson’s blog: http://inspiritandtruths.blogspot.com/. He tells it like it is. Read his book, “I Romanced the Stone”,http://www.amazon.com/I-Romanced-Stone-Marvin-Wilson/dp/0977968030/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1218151633&sr=8-1

You might be lucky. But the odds of escape are slim. The best hope is that the prostitute or drug user/dealer will end up in prison. This is good only because it gives this person a chance to stay alive a bit longer. The other scenario is much darker. The prostitute is a good target for murder or an agonizing death from a sexually transmitted disease or STD. The drug dealer/user will end up on a slab in the morgue. If this person is fortunate it will be murder. This is faster and less painful than the agonizing throes of a drug overdose.

It is your choice. Are you going to help? Or do you prefer that we lose our children to Satan? Do you want to save our youth or leave the future of this country to the dregs of society? It’s up to you.

Posted by theessaywriter at 7:42 PM CDT

Updated: Thursday, 14 August 2008 7:51 PM CDT

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Mood:  sad

The Clock is Ticking

Time, my enemy, moves forward. It cannot travel in reverse. But oh, how I wish it could. I have made thousands of mistakes but only one I want to change. I cannot. I move forward even though I really don’t want to. I exist in a void. Do I really have a positive future?

As I write this, I see nothing in front of me. I have no dreams, no aspirations. I see nothing but despair and depression. I’m alone in a house with other people. I am not good enough. I’m unwanted. I only exist.

Time however knows not of my desolation. The numbers on the clock march on. I seek not death, but life. I seek release from this humble existence. I search for happiness yet is that a realistic goal? I set my sights on the best. I aim for the pinnacle, the epitome of quality. It is not a reachable goal, but a goal nonetheless.

I will never be good enough. But yet I strive to improve. It will take more than I am. To get from where I am to the next step on my journey requires patience. I have none. It is this alone that makes me question why I exist. I survive, move across the sands of time towards a source of help. Medicine can control the depression. Therapy can help with the mental issues.

These issues, depression and mental illness have made my life, such as it was, a living hell. I am mentally ill. Will I ever be good enough? The hours chime, the work continues, I collect the pieces. Can pills, therapy, and my hard work, reassemble the pieces in an acceptable form?

Posted by theessaywriter at 6:39 PM CDT

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Mood:  happy

The Paths we Follow

Our trail through life opens the day we are born. We start in a clearing. The route ahead looks clear. As we age, a few stones trip us yet we endure. We look back at this point with wonder. It is but our youth and missteps are expected. We continue forward.

Early adulthood brings us to our first choice of paths. No route is charted. There is no map. We look ahead. Do we select the one that is the brightest? Or does the more foreboding promise more excitement? What guidelines do we use? Are there paths in sight but not accessible?

We move forward. We are young. Caution is just a word, not a form to exercise. We make choices. Some are simple while others are life changing. Look, a career path beckons. A fork up ahead, one branch to romance, the other not.

We look ahead and take stock of our choices. Brambles crown the path of singleness. The path of romance is lined with roses. Do we opt for the quick and easy? We cannot see beyond the brambles and the curves obscure much of the path of love. Our choice seems obvious but if we’re wrong, there is no going back to take the other path.

Roses die, lives change. Time continues in its forward motion. The path turns to gravel. Potholes grow as the route becomes steeper. It is our road alone yet parallels our mate. Will our paths converge or branch beyond reach? The sands in the hourglass continue to fall.

The middle years have arrived. Is our career stable? Did the roses bloom again or did they morph into thistles? There is still time to rescue our life. Careers can change. How many forks did we follow? We get lost in the forest of choices. Did we give up and seek the old and familiar? Did we push ahead and cut away the underbrush of doubt? This is not the time of reflection. Now is the time to forge our platform of our declining years. The calendar pages turn.

We face the mirror that shows our life. As we turn, the aches of time make their presence known. We have made it to here. Have our loves outweighed our regrets? Look closely at the mirror. It is a map. It is the path we followed.

Posted by theessaywriter at 8:36 PM CDT

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Mood:  happy

Home Schooling

“Kids must go to and graduate from, some form of public education.” This was my long held opinion. I saw the need for social interaction, but more important, I saw no other way to get that coveted high school diploma. You quit school you can get a GED, but by going all the way through high school you earn the diploma.

I spent decades believing this. Wow! I could not have been more wrong! The school environment is not for everyone. In some cases, this is the absolute worst place for a child to be. But what do we doe with these types of children? Do we just throw them away? Should they be institutionalized? Both answers are no. These children do not belong in a school type environment for a reason.

There are the few children that need to be in a hospital type environment because of strong medical needs. But they are not the ones being discussed here. Children with emotional needs, such as ADD/ADHD and Bipolar are the primary subjects. If the child is correctly diagnosed early enough and on medication set to the right dosages, then a school environment could work. This rarely if ever happens. So the only good solution is home schooling. Statistics show that for the most part, theses children have above average intelligence.

First, what home schooling is not. There is no set schedule, such as it starts at eight in the morning and each class is forty minutes long. It is not for the nine months like a regular school, nor do various instructors come into the home to teach. Not all home schooling is done the same way.

Then just what is home schooling? Again, not everyone does it the same way. Let’s use one example to illustrate the principle. In the bookcase are the traditional books used by schools. After the student wakes up, mom has some of the books set out on an agreed work area. Each lesson for the day may take an hour or it may be done in a few minutes. There is no set time limits, nor is it just Monday through Friday. Other lessons, reading and math, for instance, are spread out throughout the day. Regular visits to the library and helping the student select appropriate books facilitate reading. Games help with the math.

Other subjects like science are often taught on nature walks or with specific and safe experiments. A lot of the learning is done invisibly. Trips, the computer, and talking with mom and others add enormously to the student’s information intake. Now all mom has to do is tell the school board that her child has passed all the subjects for a particular grade? It’s an idyllic situation, but not true. At specified intervals the students work has to be saved and then turned into school authorities. Then the student must also be tested for proficiency for that grade level, before advancing.

Posted by theessaywriter at 11:28 AM CDT

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Mood:  irritated

Time past

The pendulum swings. Another minute gone. Was anything great done? Did you do anything spectacular? Within a minute, an arrow is released. Within a minute, a great king ceases to be. But, within a minute, a new life is started. Within a minute, a prayer is said.

The second hand turns. Turn around you’re a child. Turn around you’ve grown. Turn around and you’re old. Turn inward and wonder where the time went. Turn away from your worries. Turn down that familiar path. Turn over a new leaf. Turn towards home, and peace.

The crystal vibrates. The seconds are silent. The doors open. No one hears. The molecules are in motion. In one minute there is a city of life. In the next minute death sears the land. In a minute, humanity is changed. Within a minute, a newborn takes its first breath.

This is time. How will you spend yours?

Posted by theessaywriter at 11:18 PM CDT

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Mood:  sad

Personality Disorders

Borderline Personality Disorder or BPD, doesn’t really sound bad. It’s on the edge, the borderline. We haven’t crossed over to Personality Disorder. It may not sound bad, until you read the symptoms. It’s even worse if you suffer from it. Let me go through some of what I experience.

Mood swings happen constantly. Sometimes it only takes one word. I can be happy as a lark one minute and deep in depression the next. I’m easily angered. Going from an ‘up’ state to a ‘down’ can happen in a split second. But it can take hours to go in the other direction. This pendulum lifestyle mot only affect you, but also everyone around you, family, friends, coworkers, and even strangers you are next to out in public.

You don’t realize or recognize it at the onset. All you know is that you get uncomfortable when you’re shopping. You notice it when you’re anywhere there is more than one person even. It’s called social anxiety disorder. Everybody is crowding you. Standing in one place doesn’t help. Moving doesn’t help. You pace. You look for a place to hide. Your mouth is dry. There is no escape. Every nerve in your body is on fire. You can’t scream but you want to. Once back in a safe, controlled environment it can take hours to wind down.

Any of this sound familiar? Then let me add another bombshell. It only gets worse. Untreated it will cost you in friends, and relationships. Once past the age of fifty or so, it will change faster

Posted by theessaywriter at 9:48 AM CDT

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Mood:  sad

Living With Speed

The speed limit on the curve sign says 25mph. I know I can do it at 50. You thought this was about drugs, didn’t you? It isn’t. I learned how to drive at a very young age. Then when I graduated to cars, I found the accelerator. I know there’s a brake down there someplace. But if those folks put all that power under the hood and at my disposal, shouldn’t I use it?

I was a teenager in the sixties. This was the age of muscle cars. We never learned slow. I learned more than speed. I learned my car. By this I mean I learn, with any car I drive, what it can do and where all the parts are at any given time. I know where my right mirror is in relation to everything around me. I can drive within inches of objects on my left or right side. This requires one other ability, good peripheral vision. It also requires the ability to trust yourself behind the wheel. Unfortunately this is just about the only belief I have in me.

Why do I drive so fast? I do it to keep up with my thoughts. But, when my day, my life, is falling apart, I have to out-drive my thoughts. The faster I go the more I have to concentrate on my driving. I go fast enough to ensure my only thinking is concentrated by the lethal bullet now under my control. I’ve never gotten behind the wheel at a time I could possibly lose that concentration. That is when I’ll go as far as I can through a six-pack or case of beer. I don’t drive when I’ve been drinking. This situation has only occurred twice and only justified once. I know how fast I can drive. It is almost guaranteed if ever a time comes that I feel the need to drink heavily then drive, it will be a one-way trip.

This is not a self-doomsday prophecy. I have too many reasons, kids and ladies to prevent it. But it will be a woman that drives me to that point. I’m not speaking of anyone in particular. I’m just saying only a lost love brings out those emotions.

So let’s get off these sad topics and back to the fun part. Driving at high speed has the same thrill as a ride at an amusement park without having to stand in line. Taking curves at double the posted speed is a challenge. But, I don’t automatically go twice as fast as posted. I judge how the car is handling at the faster speeds. The road and traffic also has to be considered.

My driving faster than most is always done safely. I will not do any high speed driving with anyone else in the car. I learned, as a teenager, how to control a vehicle. This was done on the ultimate test bed, gravel roads. Once this was mastered, I took on gravel roads in the winter. By the time I was in a position to drive the freeways in Chicago, I was ready. High speed driving isn’t for everyone. But it is the way for me.

Posted by theessaywriter at 9:46 PM CDT

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Mood:  blue

Rainbow Dreams

The kaleidoscope turns and a picture emerges. It is a place you’ve been to before but there is something different. You follow a familiar path. But things aren’t quite the way they should be. You seeing a life you once had, but under better or worse conditions. As you walk the path you see how a few simple changes could have altered your destiny. Upon awakening, do you remember the changes needed to help you lead a better life?

Another nigh, another turn of the kaleidoscope. You find yourself meandering through an enchanted crystal forest. Which part are you playing? The princess looks for her prince charming. You are the white knight setting off to free the land of dragons. The scene shift and you are the prince. Go stealthily for the wicked Queen is out to prevent you from meeting your future wife.

Another turn, another…. Blackness!!! Then suddenly a flash followed by the deafening sounds of explosions. You find yourself in a war zone! Don’t move until you see where you are. Does anything look familiar? Have you been here before? This is not a dream, it is a nightmare. Find a safe place and ride it out.

It’s getting close to bedtime. Watch something funny, or read a good book. Prepare yourself for what the next turn brings. Listen, the stones are falling in place. Where will it take you tonight?

Look, you have a choice of paths, each a different color.

The closest path is red. What exciting adventure will we find waiting? Rose petals line the way. Look! A cardinal. He’s not afraid of you. Hold out your hand. See? He’s not heavy. Listen. He’s talking to you. This is not an ordinary path. Even the scent of cherry blossoms is there. The path is narrowing. As the cardinal flies away, step off this path and return via the orange one.

Aha! This is the home of the tiger lilies. An orange and black cloud is just ahead. Slowly step forward. It’s not a cloud but is instead thousands of monarch butterflies! They were providing cover for an orange furred stuffed teddy bear sitting on a pumpkin. In front of you, is that a tiger leading you to the end of the path? Time to go the other way again.

Uh oh. Grab your shades. This one is bright. Daffodils and carnations lead you down this lemon-scented path. Careful! Don’t step on the ducklings. Is that a windmill? No, it’s a sunflower. Hold out your arm. The canaries span the entire length. An arrow is pointing to the end. Now that is different. A beeline of bees!

A field of mown grass awaits you. Trod gently upon the soft texture. Croak! There are many little frogs in the grass. Even the little grass snakes seem friendly. Hear that? Up ahead, yes, it’s a parakeet. He likes to sit on your shoulders. The grass is getting thinner. You’re approaching the end.

Step cautiously it looks wet. Ah, a calm sea you can walk on. No dampness but it looks like it should be. Your path is lined with bluebells. Blue jays and bluebirds are circling overhead, occasionally scooping up a blueberry. You would like this cloudless sky to go on forever but the end is in sight. Step now into…

The endless night. Jupiter rules this indigo path. This then is the path of serenity. On this indigo slice of the palette we expect the twinkling of stars and see none. A martin flutters up in front of you. Under and around your feet roll Concord grapes. It is almost surreal. The scene is of the night, yet your vision is as clear as the brightest of days. It is in this dazed state you approach either morning or the end of this path.

Upon your first step on the next path the aroma of lilacs beckons you. You have entered an oasis of violet beauty. As you silently walk, the slow waving of a butterflies gossamer wings tickle your ear. Mexican heather borders the path. Pansies, petunias, and African violets abound. But alas, the end of your sojourn approaches.

Another turn of the   kaleidoscope is coming into view. But this is not a scene. It’s a mirror. Use this to reflect back on your travels. Things aren’t always crystal clear. Nor are they so forbidding to only cloak themselves in black. Your world, your life is multicolored. Go forth through your days with the memories, the sights, sounds and feel of Rainbow dreams.

Posted by theessaywriter at 7:20 PM CDT

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