I’ve struggled with anxiety and some depression throughout my life… heavy on the anxiety. But I’ve gotten help and have managed to (mostly) deal with the issues. Am I still screwed up, sure. You betcha. But I think not really so much more than most people. Differently wacked, so to speak.

I’m lucky. I’ve gotten help and I’ve managed not to get addicted to anything or the like. A miracle, considering–I know plenty of people who have struggled hard with addiction and I’m grateful to have missed that problem so far. Things, I think, could have been much worse.

But in the course of all that therapy and reflection, one can’t help but wonder why one has these issues…or at least I do. I’m a very logical person in some ways and I like to understand context as well as the results. Cognitive behavioral therapy doesn’t touch much on the why, and that is most of what I have done (it is very helpful for anxiety especially), but the questions remain and I dance with them fairly regularly.

The more I read, however, the more I wonder that I’m not more screwed up! When you line up some of the early development factors, I look like I’m a control subject for “ought to be completely whacked out of her skull!” That I’m not is a mixed function of luck and inner strength and, I think, an over-developed sense of Midewesternism–that is, not wanting to be a bother.

For example, on the “ought to be more nuts” side, there’s new research saying that moving is hard on kids. Moving repeatedly (3+ times) doubles the risk of teen suicide attempts. I lived in 5 places between the ages of about 8 and 14. Did I think about suicide as a teen? You bet… seriously. I remember plotting out how it would be best achieved with the minimum amount of pain for me and trauma for others (remember–not wanting to be a bother…). It’s a wonder I didn’t really hurt myself in the 8th grade. But I didn’t.

Factor #2, my parents divorced when I was very little. I don’t even really know when, but I only have a couple of memories of my father in the house. We all know now that divorce messes with kids’ heads no matter how amicable. In our case, it wasn’t a very nice post-divorce relationship (at least on one side)–Mom didn’t know that telling me what a horrible person my father was (in her opinion) might not be very healthy for, say, a 7-year old to hear. She didn’t mean to be hurtful to me, but she made almost every mistake in how she handled things. A lot of it was pure ignorance–no one knew what the effects were on kids back then. I have friends who have their own tales of woe from lousy parental divorces. But who knew back then how much therapy that was going to cause? I just knew it was always there, like another character in the movie.

Mom had some very messed up ideas about gender roles too. Bonus points for my future therapists. She had her own issues, of course, but I don’t think she ever admitted most or dealt with them much. For such a brilliant woman in some areas, she was nuts in others, like the gender stuff. My brothers didn’t experience it like I did because, well, they’re male. I was told repeatedly that my role in life was to take care of men and that to do anything else was wrong (like capital W wrong). At the same time, I was told that men are basically pigs. So… logically, let’s see…I’m not worth what a man is in life, and men are pigs, so that means…yes, more therapy. W00t!

My father tried, as best he could, to mitigate some of this–I think he still does. He never yells and never did, though I always knew when he was disappointed. And he could screw up too, pointing out the B on the mostly A report card was not helpful. But mostly, he always believed in equality between the genders and doing fun things like skiing and had a love of travel (until recently)–these he shared with me too. But he wasn’t there for most of the time–I lived with Mom–so he really couldn’t do more. A function of logistics, essentially.

Anyway, somehow, with this bizarre background, I survived. The purpose of this post is, like I said before, simply to point out the fact that it is pretty amazing I’m not more messed up. And yes, I think it is either why I am so strong or I got through it all because I am so strong. Flip a coin…who knows which it is.

There’s plenty more shrinks out there for that.

Last night I went to a local photo thing. This wasn’t something put on by one of the professional organizations — just creatives who get together to show work. I went to be part of the crowd and to see the work, and to get out a bit. I didn’t have to be “on” — I could just look and be social.

I thought I’d go, walk the room, see the work, say hello to some folks I hadn’t seen in a while (one of the photographers is someone I don’t see usually at the other events), and leave. Turns out it wasn’t a hung show like I expected. It was a projected show with each photographer narrating his/her “slides.” As the MC started the event, he thanked the artists and the cafe owner (location) and the woman who really put it together, then he said that there were “a couple of celebrities in the audience” …a guy who runs a famous stock agency, and me.

That wigs me out. Obviously, I’m no celebrity. I am known in my field, but even there, it’s just weird to have someone ask for an autograph (book signing usually) or to call me “famous” or “a celebrity.” I don’t know what to do with myself when that happens. In my head, part of my brain is making the Sally Field Oscar speech (”You like me!”) and the other part is hearing the slave in my ear (”All glory is fleeting.”).

Mostly I just try to live by the words of HH the Dalai Lama: I am a bug.

(but yeah, it feels kinda good)

Every day that I have class at 8 and am walking to school between 7-7:30, I see this guy walking on the bridge over the 5. Yes, he is… and I have no idea why…

Yesterday I did 6.5 miles on the beach. It was grey and threatening rain or mist but nice for walking. I felt like I could have gone on and on, except I had to get back and study Evidence. I have a midterm on Thursday.

So I spent my day working on my Evidence outline. From relevance to character evidence to what you can do during direct versus cross, I spent hours getting my notes together and organizing things. I also did laundry. I was busy.

And brooding. I was feeling sorry for myself for no particular reason other than I was not going out on yet another weekend and, instead, I was studying. I finally stopped for the night–the studying, not the brooding–when my friend JD contacted me and asked if I wanted to walk up Mt. Soledad. It was almost 10pm and I wasn’t even close to sleepy, so I changed and headed out.

After our last walk I figured out the distance using Google and we both thought the next time we should go farther, so we did last night. We went at least 5.5 miles, maybe more. I get confused about which streets we turned on in places so I’m not sure, but I know it wasn’t less than that. I should have brought my iPhone to track, but I didn’t have any pockets so I left it at JD’s house. Anyway, we also went up at least 650 feet (and back down, of course) and walked by some amazing estates. There is some serious money on that mountain.

Somehow it doesn’t seem like we walked as far as we did because of the conversation. Sure, we were huffing and puffing while talking at times–fast pace, uphill will do that–but it was good conversation so the time and the miles passed pretty easily.

And by the time we were back down the hill, I wasn’t brooding anymore. The exercise did the trick. I wasn’t turning back flips or anything, but I felt better. And it had to be good for me physically too, after all, I walked at least 12 miles yesterday all in all (and only got one small blister on a toe).

I succumbed. I bought a new iPhone 3G S (16GB). Yeah, it’s totally unnecessary–my old one was working just fine–but there were several things I wanted, especially video, and since I never gave myself a goodie for doing so incredibly well last term…
…yeah, that just a juicy rationalization. I wanted it. I bought it. Bite me.

It’s great. I keep finding new things I can do with it. There is selective focus on the still camera (resets exposure and white balance, etc., too) for example. And there is the voice control for dialing and music control. Way cool.

There is also the GoogleApps app which does verbal searches and integrates with the GPS so, for example, you say “movie showtimes” and it finds the times for movies at nearby theatres. Again, way cool.

I was already happy with the software upgrade on the old phone, if only for the shake to shuffle music feature. With the new phone there is also better control on the headphones and I think they sound better too.

Btw, I tried to upload a (lame) video of Benito, but Wordpress doesn’t seem to want it. Trust me, it works and it’s easy (and no, I’m not posting the lame vid on YouTube and then linking…not worth it).

I have to study this weekend, and this was a big splurge for me, but, what the hell. Might as well indulge once in a while. Besides, it’s fun. Damn fun.

I used to be religious about getting my 8 hours of sleep. Now, not so much…and I am definitely getting too old for this.

Yesterday, I was struggling to focus. I had been having these problems for the past few days, but yesterday was particularly bad. I’ve been really bad with meditation lately–just can’t seem to quiet the mind–and yesterday was no exception. I had tried to sit again–no luck. Then I tried to study but wasn’t getting anywhere–then my phone rang.

My friend JD was calling to see if I wanted to walk Mt. Soledad with him. Perfect, I thought. It was early enough that I’d get in a workout (a few miles and a big elevation change), get my head out of law stuff for a while, and then get back to study. So, I changed into workout clothes and headed out.

JD always challenges my mind on issues I rarely get to discuss (art, philosophy, film) so the walk with the talk was great. It’s a beautiful walk for the views and a nice heart-pounder climbing the hill. I was feeling better. We got back to his place after a brief detour to the ocean (and a discussion about whether humans have an inherent morality)–still talking about heady stuff. I meant to leave right then, but somehow the discussion was too compelling (we got into some biz stuff too) and, well, I didn’t leave until about 11pm. I had no idea it was that late.

Damn. I had homework to do after that. And an 8am class this morning. Ouch.

And I can’t go right home after class at 4pm. I’m getting my hair done.

Luckily, I don’t have class until the afternoon tomorrow. I need the sleep.

There’s a house about a half-block from mine that looks abandoned. Turns out a hoarder lives there. Youngish, male…you think he’d do some maintenance but no. I thought for sure no one actually lived in the place–the lawn was never watered or mown, the fence was barely standing.

Well, here’s what woke me up at 4:57 this morning…that house, in flames (click on pics for larger images). Poor man got out fine, but I’m sure the place is destroyed. Nightmare for the firemen since the place was apparently filled with newspaper, etc. Ugh.

Seems some people don’t like what I’ve been writing. Well, I’m not going to stop writing (it is my therapy and something I have done, oh, for years), but to keep things a little more private, my posts will require a password to access. Email me if you want the password.