A Well Behaved Wednesday

Today's high temperature was: 85 degrees

Today's humidity was:  79%

Heat Index:  95 degrees

I called and, as luck wouldn't have it, the woman PhD psych is no longer there.  The owner of the place IS there--the PhD male psych my primary care guy wanted me to go to in the first place, so I made an appointment.  August 23rd!  Do you know how many times I am going to change my mind about going between now and then?  I know other's who have gone to this guy and they say he is great.  He better be!  I have had a bad experience with a couple of male therapists--but at this age, if this guy gives me any guff--I will just get up and leave.  I rather enjoy this new found, "I will not take any shit", attitude I now have in respect to people of authority, whom I used to be very submissive with.

Of course, this morning when I woke up, I wondered, "Now did I make that appointment out of a real need, or was it a manic reaction to feeling...manic?"  Second guess every dang decision I make lately!!  Comes from a long held experience of making decisions which, at the time seemed, "sound, sane and a good idea", that later turned into disasters!!

I do feel a bit better after making the appointment though--more settled into--I WILL once and for all--find out what is going on and what can help.  Perhaps I will find that out.  You never know when you go to a shrink.  Most are into the "talk therapy" and they end up listening while you talk it all out--which you could get the same help from a fence post.  Oh sure, they say, "and how did that make you feel," or "can you tell me a little more about that," which only makes you talk more until you come to your own conclusions.  Remember--most shrinks went into that profession because they were screwed up.  They thought by studying that subject, they would better understand themselves.  So--in reality, they aren't anymore mentally balanced then you are.  In fact, some I have gone too were a whole lot worse emotionally then I was, LOL.

With my last two female therapists, after a month, I ended up being their therapist.  I'd sit down and they would start in about their bad week, or their rebellious kid, or their rotten husband.  I'd give them bits of advice--because I'd "been there, done that", and they'd seem relieved.  Then, we'd chat a bit about how I was doing, and by then, I was doing pretty well realizing how grateful I was NOT to have their problems, LOL.

There was a good therapist I went to at the Mental Health offices in Owosso--when I still lived in Byron--during and after my divorce.  What was her name?  Louise?  She was very helpful. Oh well, that was a quarter of a decade ago, no wonder I can't remember.  Louise.  I think her name was Louise--Simpson.

 However, in that same facility, years before my divorce, I went to a PhD Dr. of Psychiatry who was an absolute idiot!!  At the time I was having problems with my slightly abusive hubby and of course, KNEW it was all my fault, so I was the one who had to get "fixed".  This Dude thought it would be a good idea to put me in group therapy with others.  We had a round table we sat around.  He sat me next to a guy who, every week, went in to great detail to tell me how stupid I was for some of the statements or thoughts I made.  "No wonder your husband slapped you!  He's trying to get it through your head how angry you make him.  I'd slap you too."

Apparently, the Doc thought that I would either get mad enough to stand up to this guy or--I don't know what.  of course, it didn't work with me because I had already been taught not to speak back to a MAN, by my Daddy and certainly not to your husband who, "WORKS ALL DAY IN THE SHOP TO PUT A ROOF OVER YOUR HEAD, FOOD ON THE TABLE AND CLOTHES ON YOUR BACK!!"  (even though we lived under the roof I had inherited from my grandma.)

So--after three weeks of this abuse, I called to cancel my group therapy appointment.  Told the young lady that answered the phone that I would not be coming back.  Lo and behold, two hours later the male PhD Doctor of Psychiatry called ME!  He said that I HAD to continue in group to have any good results.  That I needed to learn how to voice my opinion and stand up to my husband--to all men.

I waited until he was done and then said,  "Doctor, I will not be back."

"But, you won't have your break through if you don't learn how to stand up for yourself."

"Doctor, you don't understand.  I won't be back because I don't need to come back.  You have cured me.  I can now stand up to a man....that man is YOU!  I.  Will.  Not.  Be.  Coming.  Back!"  and I hung up the phone.

I never felt so good in my life, LOL.

Of course, I wasn't "cured" and I still didn't stand up to my husband.  After you stand up, get knocked down.  Stand up, get knocked down.  I learned early on--it is just easier to keep quiet, take the yelling and go on about your life.
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About my love of fried liver and onions--I also love chicken livers.

When I was four, my grandmother PAID to take me to a special doctor!!! He was a Pediatrician!!!  A long drive from home--into the BIG CITY!!

I can still remember that visit as if it was yesterday.  I can still see myself--sitting on a potty chair and asking my mother why that wanted my "potty".  Although, it was not difficult for me to pee as, another problem caused by what Mother said was nerves, I always had to pee--my Daddy would get so mad because when we went on a drive, I always had to stop, several times, to pee.

Anyway--there I was in my white cotton under pants, I remember feeling chilly, up on a high table and the nice doctor thumped my knees with a rubber, triangular thingie and it made my leg bounce.  No matter how hard I tried to keep my leg stiff and still, when he tapped my knee with that thing, my leg bounced.  Then he looked in my ears (it tickled) and my nose and I had to open my mouth way wide and say "Ah-hh".

Then I went into another room and laid on a big high wide table and some kind of machine traveled from my head down to my toes.  It didn't hurt--there was a kind of light on it and I watched as it traveled.  They told me it was taking pictures, through my skin and seeing my bones and my insides.  I thought that was pretty cool.  Nowadays, they would just take a blood sample, a urine sample and the doc would call the Momma when the results of the tests came back.

Back then, no needles were involved and---as long as no needles were involved, I was having a good time.

Then I got to put my pretty dress back on and the nurse took us into another room.  There was a nice little chair for me to sit in and Mother on one side of me and Grandma on the other.  The doctor came in and talked to Grandma and Mother.  I was busy looking around at the pictures he had on his wall.  Pictures of little kids and babies.  Then, the doctor sat down on a low seat that had roller wheels on it and he rolled over to talk to me.

"You are a nice tall, strong, healthy and beautiful girl!  Mommy told me that sometimes your knees and legs hurt.  Is that right?"

I nodded my head.  (Gosh--this is so vivid, as if I were right back there!)

He reached back to his desk and picked up a picture.  It showed a plate of fried liver and onions.

"Do you like liver?"

I kind of wrinkled up my nose.

"Well, if you eat liver every time  your Mommy makes it for supper...guess what? ...and he reached back for another picture.....you will grow up to be a beautiful lady like this!"

not this picture, but same lady

I had no idea who this lady was, but I remember looking at that picture and smiling as wide as can be.  I was hooked!!!

...and that's how I came to love liver and onions and I didn't grow up to be beautiful like Betty Grable, and now I can't eat it anymore because my blood has TOO much iron, LOL.

Bella and Jean, thanks for commenting about liver and onions and bringing this memory back in full glory!

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My lilies

The largest picture is of my Lemon Lily that is just starting to bloom.  It is from a root my Mother planted in the early fifties.  I had a huge bush of them at my first home, in 1959.  Every time I moved, I took along a piece.  Not only are they lemon color, they smell like lemons.  

Balisha--thank you for telling me about picmonkey--I have spent the better part of this afternoon making collages of pictures.  I LOVE IT!!!

...and now, the rest of the weather report:  the predicted cold front has come through.  Windows and front door are open to a nice, north/west breeze.  It is now 71 degrees, with a humidity of 34%.  I am one very happy camper!!!

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Pearl just called--Dear Lily may be going back to animal control. Pearl feels bad because her older male cat just stays under the bed.  It appears he is afraid of Lily.  Pearl says, "Lily is just a...bully!"

As I have said before, Pearl has no patience.  If the cat doesn't act like she wants it too the minute she brings it home, then it is a "bad cat".  The cat is very affectionate, just what she wanted, but now---Pearl is annoyed that the cat wants to be everywhere she is and has to be "constantly" brushing up against her legs or climbing in her lap.  Oh My--she has Tiger since he was a 6 week old kitten, so she trained him the way she wanted him to be--he is very aloof.  I think the only way she would be happy is to get another innocent kitten--that Tiger would probably terrorize.

So, she will probably take the cat back, get another one, who will be the same way and then what?  She has had 3 other cats in the last 6 years and has given them all away because they didn't "conform".  

Sad.