This is a post from my ongoing series WHAT’S UP, WENZDAY?
This will happen every Wednesday as part of my ROW80 weekly check-in.
It’s still pretty damn funny, though.
Sometimes I get funky. I don’t mean “funky” in the stinky sense of the word (although after a workout I admit to being pretty rank). And I don’t mean “funky” in the groovy, cool, jazzy kind of way either (although I am often pretty swanky — just ask my sister).
What I’m talking about is funky in MOOD.
Like, depressed. Horribly downtrodden. Tired of life. Lethargic and heavy and ready to throw in the towel. DONE. I’ve written many times of my adventures in la-la-land. I’m not going there today. I *AM*, however, going to tell you about the taxi-ride out of that town. It’s all uphill, the driver doesn’t speak my language, the radio is too loud, and we keep taking detours. But when we reach the final destination, it’s well worth the fee, and I tip well. Consider this post part of my payment — kind of a “pay it forward”, giving back, sort of thing. It’s well over due.
First Stop, Toy Land. Not the good one.
The scary, sad one with all the messed up toys.
One of the first places my taxi driver visited
along the route to better mental health (right after counseling and prescription medication) was The Island of Misfit Toys. No, for realz. As Cornelius points out, “How do you like that? Even among misfits you’re a misfit!” Now I’ve discussed before on this here bloggy-blog in a post called “Dolly for Sue” how King Moonraiser was a serious douche-nugget for letting Dolly for Sue believe she was unloved — her depressive nature was her tragic flaw. But dude had a point, I guess. Because that’s how I feel when I’m on that trip: No one gets me.
You know why?
Because *I* don’t even get me. And I certainly don’t *LIKE* me! Therein lies the main problem. I know, this is a L.A.M.E. Lesson here — “learning to love yourself” is such an icky expression. And that’s a damn shame, because maybe if it wasn’t so touchy-feely-gross-ness-goober-cycle, there would be less unhappiness floating around this stupid planet. So yeah, learning how to love myself was a serious endeavor, and fuck you if you think that’s dumb, cuz in that case, I’m really not talking to you then, am I?
From Toys to X-Men
I don’t claim to be a professional teacher in this lesson. Far from it! Best I can say is that I figured it out for myself, and that’s one of the islands you’re going to have to visit if you’re on the same journey I took. Jessica O’Neal wrote a fabulous post entitled “One Thing Magneto Got Right” on Marcy Kennedy’s blog back in March, which I surely do wish had been written years ago, because she puts a nice spin on this issue. Of Mystique‘s character, Jessica says, “In order to feel accepted she, therefore, chooses to spend the majority of her time in a different skin.” Jessica quotes Magneto’s character as telling Mystique,
“You want society to accept you, but you can’t even accept yourself.”
“Self-acceptance may not be easy, but the best things never are.” I hope you are able to get a grip on this first task. You can’t travel anywhere else till you get off the island and stop wearing the wrong skin.
So How Goes My ROW [Run, Organize, Write]?
DATE: August 2012
PROGRESS: After several weeks, I’m still on week 1 of the program, but at least I no longer dread the treadmill beast and am actually able to complete that day’s activity.
METHOD: Toss one item & work in one zone daily.
PROGRESS: Not so shabby.
— blog posts
— comments & responses
GOAL: published novel, successful blog
METHOD: write daily
PROGRESS: Did the work daily! Hoorayz!