You are currently browsing the monthly archive for September 2009.

Emotions are fascinating.  We can be so quick to put a label on what we’re feeling, without fully experiencing and exploring it.

Are not even sadness and happiness twins?  Both can cause tears.  Only a very thin veil stands between the two after all….     – Kassie Meeks

One of the hallmarks of a dysfunctional family is the denial of an inner life, where children are not allowed to develop their own value system or express and experience certain emotions.

And many people who’ve been through a traumatic experience learn to cut off their darker emotions for self preservation.

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Lady Gaga says that she is “obsessively opposed to the typical” and while I
wouldn’t say that I am that extreme, I definitely celebrate the unusual and
alternative.

And I did make my husband watch every episode of Star Trek: The Next
Generation and Star Trek: Voyager.  (I’ll take my “Best Wife Ever” award
now, thank you.)  Anyway, there was no point in me waxing philosophical
about the Prime Directive if he had no idea what I was talking about!

So when I got my hands on The Freak Revolution Manifesto, I was pretty
excited.

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Today’s post is written by Pace of The Freak Revolution.

Rate your happiness on a scale of 1 to 10.

How happy are you with your love life?  With your friendships?  Your job?  How happy are you with your living situation or your life in general?

This would be a boring post if I talked about taking stock of different areas of your life, figuring out which ones are problem areas, and figuring out how to improve those areas. That’s important stuff, but everyone knows about it already and it’s been beaten to death.

I’m not going to talk about that.

I’m going to talk about the scale itself.

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Sean was awkward and unable to express himself, selfish, lazy, and often suicidal and depressed.

While I was assaulted more often, my father was usually physically harsher with my brother than with myself.  Sean had no sanctuary from violence, no place or person that was a consistent refuge. While I protected him from the bullies I knew about at school, I was in turns sheltering and merciless in our home.

I never ever hit him, but he was subjected to a psychological onslaught of bullying, blackmail, and emotional abuse.  By me.  I hurt him.

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Photo by chalky lives

Photo by chalky lives

I don’t understand people who claim that they don’t like to dance.  People who can be seen drumming out a beat with their hands, or nodding with their heads.

Photo by faithful chant

Photo by faithful chant

Are you moving your body to music?  Your neck says “Yes!”

Then you’re dancing.

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