I really want to tell you that I love dogs ant that I am a dog lover. But I can’t. I love my dogs. My girls. What I really want to say is:  fuck dose happy dogs. Like. The little dogs that. Yap. Chows, fuckin’ chuahas or how ever the hell you spell them. And everything in between. The only reason someone would get a yappie dog is because their daddy issues are not resolved. They have outgrown daddy issues as an excuse. So they find a dog that is unlovable and emotionally not there for you or anybody.  Then they inflict these daddy outburst on the neighborhood.  And that’s my two cents. 

Mornings are a very electric time for me. All cylinders began to fire at once.  I throw a cupa coffee in and boy howdy. Unfortunately the cylinders begin to stop firing by five pm. 

This morning I’ve become reflective. Just how did I get here? Where did I lose the rose colored lenses. It’s hard to think about my childhood without making it seem like the world is to blame or my parents are at fault for everything. But allow me to try.  

I think as a child I had undiagnosed anxiety and anger problems. I think it was chalked up to just being an Indian kid. I was always very sensitive.  

My parents often left on Friday nights or Saturday nights to go to the casino. And sometimes my extended family would come down and all of us kids where left to our own devices. Unfortunately there was a lot of teasing directed at me. And if I got angry or sad it was my fault. Looking back I feel as though my feelings where always invalid. Even if I liked a song or a girl or a tv show I felt like I needed to keep that to myself because there was something shameful about it. So I hid. Like I’m hiding now.  

My parents tried there best with what they had. But I always had the ability to choose a parent as better over the other. And since my mother was the one I saw the most of. I chose her over my father. I feel as though we were allowed to disrespect him in a way I would never do now.  My father and I became closer after I went to college.  

Thats where I’m reflecting this morning. My childhood wasn’t all bad. I had some laughs. But when I think about my anxiety for opening up I feel like it started there. My happiness and my sadness are both invalid which I know now is not true. But it’s hard to get my head out of that particular grain of sand.  

Take care

-E- 

There was this Deer who lived by my apartment who spent all spring and summer watching me. Not running. Just defiantly staring at me as if it had only a fight response ready in case I wanted to rumble. U did not wish to rumble so I kept my distance.  

That deer was hit by a car over the weekend. It made me sad. Maybe not for the Deers passing. But what it symbolizes in my mind. This adult deer spent all year being afraid of me. Daring me to test it. When I wasn't the one to be afraid of. It was the river of screaming metal it should have been afraid of.  

It makes me realize my own fears. Fear of failure, fear of unconditional love, fear of making new friends, fear of taking risks, and so many other fears(I want to label them as paralizations but I will refrain). These fears cause me to freeze mentally and leave my body as rigid as a guitar string, when I should be afraid of the isolation I cause myself, fear of the alcohol I Introduce into my body, and the fatty grease I consume. It's just as backwards as that deer being afraid of me and not the thunderous screaming river she so readily crossed.  

How's that?  I have more thoughts. I'll tell you tomorrow.  

Take care

-E-