May Day

It was sunny out and beautiful. One of those rare days in the Spring that makes me happy to be alive. I have to find #1s blood papers. He needs them for his business. So that's another thing to do. He, Mom and I pulled out the rototiller yesterday but we couldn't get it going. We'll see if Jim will come by to start it up tomorrow. I want that task done. I'm trying to psych myself into doing it. I so don't want to. Once the garden is turned though that means fresh veggies for the summer! MMMmmmmm tomatoes and carrots and chard and broccoli and green beans and asparagus (actually we've had two dinner plates of them already, sweet and green tasting. Yum!) green and red peppers. And more! Brussel Sprouts...
Today -

Mood - Medium high but healthy

Physical - Stuffiness (an allergy there was lots of pollen floating around today I'm sure.)

Woke up - 11 am with stuffiness and a bit of an headache, took nothing went to bed around 6 am again last "night".

Activities - Read some more of The Girl Who Kicked the Hornets Nest, wrote this blog, sent off 75 pictures to family members, attended niece's party, drank 5 cans of diet pepsi, tossed out some moldering hoarded garbage from the basement so we can have a place for the new washing machine and the generator for the sump pump. 


(Dealing with the hoarded cr@p is an issue unto itself. 
We cleaned while my Father was watching the boob tube and wasn't looking for my Mother 
{which means during the news, 
or Jeopardy, 
or feeding time, 
or if the telephone rang,} 
then we had to wait two nights for trash night to actually take the cr@p upstairs, 
stuff it in a contractor's bag, 
drop it in a garbage can, 
and tie the top of the bag 
so he wouldn't open the lid of the can 
{because in the morning 
while he waits for the garbage men 
he can tell them his time worn and warped story 
about Martin Luther King and 
how my Father is a personal friend and 
he was a good man and 
he told him not to go to Vietnam because 
he'd get his head blown off,}
and screw around with the stuff inside and 
bring his "prized possessions" back inside and 
"hide" them in his room.)

WRAP - nothing so far... I promise to do at least a half an hour. 


An hour later...
I only looked at Facebook and I got distracted for 2 hours!!! Damn you Facebook!
Seriously though, I got a message from a friend asking me what was WRAP. I sent him along missive with my interpretation of  what WRAP is. Then noticing my blog again (another good reason for having this blog - to remind me why I'm suppose to be online, not to immerse myself in pointless pursuits like watching a hummingbird web cam but to continue keeping myself on track - although watching the hummingbird web cam might be a good addition to my Wellness Tools list. {Go figure!})


I looked at the pages I printed out for myself from the 44(!) page Mental Disorders Toolkit I got from the Managing Mental Disorders page on the heretohelp website. I looked for a work book page to fill in. It's easier to do then off the cuff thinking and writing. I had to ask myself: "What was I doing? Was I just blindly filling in empty pages or was I going to do this systematically or what?" So I looked at the beginning to give me some instructions on how to go about using this tool. And there before my very eyes it said:

So read it yourself. 
I figure I'm in about the middle. I understand the concepts. I've taken Mary Ellen Copeland's Mental Health Recovery & WRAP® class at Boston University back in the mid-2000's as part of TFTF. It's been a while and I've "stored" away my old notes and WRAP workbook, book and handouts. BTW - "stored" means I've hoarded them away with all the stuff that was in my old apartment before I moved out of that h3llhole, MB and back into my parents' house. Another project for another time and maybe professionals, too. Woo Hoo.
I also added this following blurb to help guide me and give me a realistic idea of my overall goals. 

It's from the same Mental Disorders Toolkit that I got the first blurb from. So that means maybe I should add it as a link, right? Oy vey! The work I got myself into!
I might try and do a little self organization for the week since that is what I do on Sundays. This is my special day quite unlike the Bangles' Manic Monday's Sunday. Today I enjoy feeling like I am an organized adult that actually is directing a huge corporation. I make my appointments, I talk to the people I'll be doing activities with, I add appointments and events to my cell phone calendar and set the week up so I feel semi-normal and like I'm not hanging @ss naked in the wind all week.
Let's see the Big E called me today. I'll be continuing to tear down the wallpaper in Bill's bedroom. Tomorrow #1 and I are going to see a marionette show called "Junk Palace". Tuesday I drive Mom to her eye doctor's appointment.


*SPECIAL NEWS BREAK* 
I just heard (it's 11:22 pm Sunday Night May 1st, 2011) that "they" killed Osama Bin Ladin. That makes me sad right now. I don't know why exactly, but I suspect some weird inner shit is going on with me that I'm not going to share. God only knows in this country just sharing that feeling probably means some religious right freak will now hunt me down for sharing in my right to free speech claiming I'm unpatriotic and a burgeoning terrorist. Like I have the money to marshal up never mind the brain organization to keep my sh!t together.  


Thursday is Kev-o's birthday and Friday is National Public Garden Day and Blithewold is open and FREE! So I have to sneak Big E's walls in somewhere in between. It sounds easy if you realize that I have all day Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday. All the same with my migraines calling the shots sometimes and my brain lollygagging I often roam around pointlessly trying to direct a thought or catch a clue. 


Koo koo ka chew Mrs. Robinson, Jesus loves you more than you will know, whoa whoa whoa. We sang it in the car on the way back from my niece's birthday party today. Anything, do anything but not hear my Father point out for the 3257th time that there are houses on the knoll above route 4. Think I'm a mean b!tch now? Good, don't come to me with your dementia. I've had my life's worth of drivel listening to a person I alternately hate and pity. 
But he's disabled too! So what? He never actively admitted to any of his problems that got him there. I don't have time for guilt and mental self flagellation. And if you got a problem with that well Boo Hoo! Go cry to the PC Police. 


Over and Out.