I’m unusual, not so typical… way too smart to be waiting around!

Just a few hours can make a big difference in my mood, it seems.  My last entry I actually wrote down on paper — yep, the pressed wood pulp stuff I seem to always avoid! — at the time, and just before posting this entry I typed it up and submitted it.

Looking at what I wrote, and remembering how I felt, I wasn’t feeling bad, but I certainly wasn’t cheery and bouncy.  All it takes is a little effort and a little smile and you can pull yourself out of pretty much anything — so a bit of a nap, a little “playtime,” and then of course hearing from Pouf, turning on some FUN music, and I feel great again!

Oh yeah, the chocolate didn’t hurt things either.  Dove dark chocolate squares, and they all have a little message or thought inside the wrapper.  Ate two squares, and inside the first it said, “Life is precious and an opportunity for you to make every moment count.”  The second one was just “Close your eyes and relax.”  Sure, they could sound kinda cheesy, but at the time they were just what I needed!

I know this post is rather disjointed and random, but whatever.  I was looking back over some of the things I’ve written down over the past few days (damn, it’s crazy, but this “paper” concept is actually useful!) and I came across this note:

Phia says: Fear is not a weakness.  It is normal.  It is natural.  But we need not embrace it!  Fear is a very understandable and a very natural first response to many things.  But true happiness requires us to step beyond fear, through reluctant acceptance, past promises and resolutions, to firm decisions, and from those decisions, direct and purposeful actions.

Sometimes I wonder where I come up with these things — they make so much sense, but damn, I sound so SERIOUS and DEEP!  Anyway, I guess it’s just part of who I am.

Other things I’ve been thinking about lately:

I miss Anne.

Let me back up a little bit here, because I doubt anyone here knows who Anne was… When I was maybe 12 or 13, I somehow ended up with a stuffed bear.  It was styled as a panda, and between its hands it held a heart.  I think — not positive, it’s been a very long time — that my grandma on my mom’s side had given it to the family as a kind if “Here, I don’t want this — find someplace to get rid of it.”  I wasn’t about to let that darling little bear get thrown away, or even donated to Goodwill, so I stepped in and asked to have it.  Anyway, this was the same time that I had picked up the unabridged copy of The Diary Of Anne Frank from the library.  I very clearly remember asking what I thought was a rather innocent question of the hypnotherapist I’d been seeing at the time about the phrase “…finding a bit of seed in my panties…” that I’d encountered in reading Anne Frank.  Of course, that launched a flurry of skittering around and my therapist very clearly expressing to my folks that it was time for me to have “The Talk” and she recommended a couple of books — both available at the local library — both versions of “What’s Happening To My Body?”  She quite wisely pointed out that for any guy or any girl, it was vital to understand what happens to both sexes at puberty, and the format of the books was suitable for answering any questions I might have.  My parents agreed to check them out from the library, and they did, but they insisted on reading anything in them before I did, and assigning specific chapters that I was to read, and others I needed to skip, and yet others that they must present “The Truth” quite clearly before I was allowed to read “What the rest of the sinning world falsely claims.”

Of course, I managed to read the whole thing after all, and not surprisingly, the sections they had forbidden entirely were regarding safe sex being an option, rather than “the only SAFE sex is abstinence until marriage and exclusive partnership thereafter,” and the parts they wanted to “correct” were regarding masturbation being sinful and evil.  I know they meant the best, and I don’t fault them for it.  It just makes me laugh a bit now to think back to how even then I didn’t particularly believe them on those subjects.

Right!  So, I was talking about Anne.  Gotta love those long tangental sidenotes… So, Anne had a heart between her hands; the back of the heart had been stitched together at one point, but the stitching had long since come apart.  It was, I soon found, the perfect place to put my rings when I took them off to masturbate, and there was always a conspiritorial feeling in doing that… Anne was much more than just a stuffed toy to me.  She was a friend, a confidante, and really almost the only “person” I talked with about things that were difficult for me at the time.  I kept Anne by my bed and slept with her for years — in fact, right up the the time that I shipped off to Utah and the [note: name of residential facility].  I was allowed to bring her with me, which really surprises me even now, but she was required to sit in a little basket of “personal items that you don’t get to touch.”  Well, after a year and a half without her regular company, she managed to end up someplace other than the top of the “must take this home with me!” list… and she got left behind.

It was a devastating blow when I first got home, but time seemed to heal the pain, and though there have been a few times I’d thought of her, it was always just a bit of “hmm, there was that bear, wasn’t there?”  Well, as I was going through all my things here recently, I found a plush toy version of Babar The Elephant that my dad gave me several years ago, and got one for himself and I think both of my sisters… I never really liked the elephant as something to cuddle with, but now I find that it’s not so bad to hug and hold — but of course it reminded me of how I used to sleep with Anne, and I realized that I really do miss her still.

Ohhhh-kay!  Been writing here for an hour now, and although there’s probably a lot more I could say, I really ought to just take a break and post this now!


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