(A warning: this posting is mental ramblings and contains no useful decor or crafty tips whatsoever.  Maybe it gives you insight as to why I’ve been around so little?  I don’t know why I’m publicly posting it, other than– it’s my party, and I can cry if I want to.)

Sorry guys, but there will be no thrifted scores this week.  We’ve been snowed in on all my usual chances to get out lately.  That’s okay, this gives me ample of time to craft things with the supplies I have on hand (plenty), but it also gives me a lot of time for reflection.  I dunno if you saw my post a couple of days ago, but I’ve been in a bit of a moody state of late….  I’ve been thinking about things, and my life, a lot.

I recall an afternoon art class when I was in the 10th grade, where the young pimpled chap I was crushing on oh-so-hard– we’ll just call him “Chuck” (because that was his name)– informed me that he would never, ever, date a redhead.  He had sworn ’em off.  This was a staggering bit of news to me at the time, being as I am a lifelong ginger….  Apparently, I went into the ballgame as an automatic out.  Harsh.  I remember I asked him why the ban on all auburn, and he detailed a “long” list of only two girls his older brother had dated, both redheaded, and– both Chuck and his brother had agreed– overly analytical.  Apparently, being overly analytical was a curse that I had to bear, being born with red hair, and I hadn’t known it up until that moment….

Rusty Thinks Hard About Going Out

Rusty, Another Redhead, Thinks Hard About Going Out

But what is so funny about all that, looking back– is that is actually true for me.  I’m in my own head a lot.  And I am incredibly prone to over analyzing any and all situations.  Oh, no, I mean– hearing it in high school– it was a spirit-crusher, don’t get me wrong, I was pretty certain I’d been found out.  I wasn’t sure if what he said was true about reds as a whole (I’m still not, but I’m not prone to evaluating everyone I know based on their hair color and any common traits found amongst them), but I felt shot down, and about something I had no real control over… something that isn’t even really a *bad* trait when you really, ahem, analyze it….

I think this is a trait that has saved Nora, my mother (also a redhead), over the years…  she had a *really, really* hard early life.  Depressing movie kind of stuff, ya’ll.  Her being able to THINK, and think deeply and reflectively has benefited her (and then us) in so many ways.  She has been able to break the cycle of abuse, that one thing alone is a *biggie.*  My mom is in her mid-sixties, and to this day she bears physical scars from the woman that ‘raised’ her….  a schizophrenic, poor, tired, distant-aunt that would just plain old beat the crap out of tiny Nora for buttering her biscuits wrong, if she was in that kind of mood that day….  And as my mom grew up, in that tiny coal-mining town in deep Appalachia– there were no therapists!  There was no well-meaning guidance counselors that came along and said, “You don’t deserve this, little Nora.”  No, mom did that HERSELF, with thought and introspection.

She was able to look at her life, look at the life that her aunt had previously had before taking on five new children, and have some sort of understanding….  She figured out that neither woman chose to be in the life of the other.  Mom certainly didn’t *decide* to be orphaned as a baby and mistreated through her formative years…  but she certainly could CHOOSE to NOT treat her children the way she had been treated.  My mother’s emotional thought-work changed the life mapped out for my sister and I– mom was able to shed that abuse like an old, holey, flea-ridden coat.  She certainly wasn’t going to treat the littles that she had in her life the same way she had been treated.  And despite the fact that she had seen very few positive parenting models, she was able to pattern her mothering style on a thought process– “What kind of mother did I want?”;  “How would I have wanted to be treated in this situation?”;  “What would a good mother do?”

And she did it!  As far as I’m concerned, one could not have a better Mom.  I was never cruelly punished; I was never struck; there was no verbal abuse ever flung my way; I never even had the slightest *inkling* of the real horror that very bad parenting can bring.  Instead I was supported, encouraged, educated, fed healthy foods, and given oodles of fantastic opportunities….

After all this time, I refuse to feel shame for being a deep thinker.  I’m not going to be apologetic for being introspective, that would be silly– just as silly as apologizing for being a redhead!


But ya’ll– sometimes I wish I could turn it off for a while.  Sometimes I wish it were easier to hide from my own thoughts….  Oh I tell ya, I’m apparently capable of some deep, dark repression, but you know, once you open that door– you’ve seen it again.  You do have to deal with it, eventually.  Like it or not– if I chose those circumstances or they were forced upon me– those issues are mine.  Your truths are always there, waiting.  To be turned over, to be pondered, to torture oneself if you manage it just right.  I’m afraid I just may analyze myself into an asylum….

Lately I’ve had some big stuff push their way to the surface of my conciousness, and frankly, I just don’t want to deal with it….   Let’s blame poetry and current events, shall we?  Then I took a moment to do the mental math, and I realize that one of these issues has been in hiding for 30 years, and if I push it down and don’t recognize and cope with it (again), I could quite possibly be 70 and done with this world before I really make any progress on it.  (A scary thought.)   But there is also the very real and frightening truth that today’s coping with these terrible truths could totally disrupt my family and home as I know it.  That is a horrifying amount of responsibility– deal with and recover from this detestable thing that happened to me and affected me as a girl, knowing that a ripple effect could and will likely hurt people I love.  It’s hard to look past those ripples, those nasty effects, and know if it will all be worth it… will *I* be better in the end, having faced this darkness?  Or will part of me always be broken?  Will my family be unscathed?  How can I protect those people I love from all of this?

And so, for the first time ever, my analytical thinking doesn’t seem to help.  I have been asking myself these questions for weeks now, and no answers are emerging for me….  I am lost.





Feb 24, 2014 | Category: Just A Thought | Comments: none | Tags: ,


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