Learning the tongue is a powerful instrument

For years I have lived without the fear of what others thought of me or my actions. It wasn't until recently, within the past year, that I realized how dangerous our tongue is. I look in the mirror and see this small instrument, needed for daily living, and I can't believe that I have used it to kill someones spirit, damaged someones qualities, and abused my body with a simple tongue that resides in my own mouth. How does someone get to this point in life? We are not born with such thoughts to harm others. A tongue is quick to strike too. I have a hard time just stopping and thinking about what I am going to say before it is already out of my mouth. It is a habit that is hard to break. How did speaking kindness become obsolete when there is always a smile on my face? I realize that it has taken medication to even out my thoughts and realize I am not the person I was riding on the rollercoaster called Bipolar. Now is when I realize how I affected those around me. I hate when you tell those you hurt that you are truly sorry and they tell me it is ok. How does that make sense? The instrument that should have been used to pass on blessings and praises has demolished, killed, abused, hurt, destroyed, and even spewed hate and people just forget? I have a long journey to try and figure out this life I am trying to live. I look back to where I was at a year ago and the shame I feel is so overpowering that if I am not careful it will consume my every thought. I've heard, so many times since therapy and psych medicine maintenance, that I didn't know what I was doing. Does that still mean it is okay? I look back and realize I never learned to truly love myself so it is no wonder that I took others for granted. Is this fixable? I believe some to be salvageable, but there are some that have been cut too deep to heal. I never started out wanting to be a hurtful person, I became one though and now, I am trying to live without chaos, drama, and the guilt of my past. It is a struggle, but I find that the more possitive things I tell myself, the more blessed I feel daily. Mental Illness is such a serious issue in the United States, and by choice alone I keep my mental health maintained. If people only knew how my mind controled me from a very early age, they would be amazed that I am still alive . LESSON: only allow positive things to cross your tongue, speak words of incouragement, and embrace the power that you have control over so that you are not sending out negativity in a way to hurt another.

A little thing I'm diagnosed with:OCD

I have been taking medication for this ridiculous and annoying thing that goes on in my brain called OCD. Now, when I first started taking the medication I imagined it would take care of them and I wouldn't have to worry about counting the squares of toilet paper or timing my hand washing. *those are the mild ones* It has been a struggle for me, and although the medication I do take helps with my anxieties that cause some of my OCD's, it's the ones that make no sense that are still holding on.

I'm not ashamed about this now and actually I advocate for mental health through emailing senators and anyone that is involved in keeping mental health facilities and workers taken care of. I am just one voice, one email, one person. Sometimes I feel so alone in this journey that is so important to me that I could scream.

I am known to write comedy, and for as long as I can remember I have been great at it. The past month, though, has been so hard to focus that I have given up. I will go back to it, I'm sure, but right now it is not in me to produce anything funny. I have a fan base on facebook that expect post updates that are either shocking, humiliating, obnoxious, crude, and downright offensive. I have not been able to do those things and now my email inbox is so full of people asking me to please get back on.

Today is Therapy Thursday, so I am hoping things will get better.

FAT BABY DR. VISIT

FAT BABY gets to go to the doctor for his 1 year check-up. After stuffing him in a diaper and putting his husky outfit with the legs and arms rolled up since they make baby clothes so small. She rolled him to the kitchen with her feet and sat down in the floor next to FAT BOY and began feeding him three eggs, two pancakes, fourteen pieces of bacon, two sausage links, a bowl of oatmeal with butter and sugar, and finally chocolate milk to wash it all down with. Thirty minutes later FAT BABY was finished eating. He was rolled to the van and the lift took him up to his seat. FAT BABY could barely bend to sit in the seat.

Since FAT BABY did not meet the weight recomendation for child seats he was put in the regular seatbelt that was stretched out as far as it could go to fasten. After thirty minutes that it took to get FAT BABY settled into the van, they took off to the doctors. She could hear FAT BABY breathing hard in the back seat. Why is he always out of breath? She would ask the doctor why her baby breathes hard.

Once at the doctors office she unbuckled FAT BABY and put him in his stroller, which was actually a wheelchair because they make the weight limits on strollers so light that she hasn't found one to accomodate him. She pushes FAT BABY into the waiting room and begins to fill out the necessary paperwork. All the kids stop playing and stare. The older lady that was sitting next to them looked at the mother and shook her head. The woman didn't understand why she was getting such weird looks. This was her first doctor visit so she was excited to meet the pediatrician. The nurse came out of the office and told the mother her baby was the fattest baby she had ever seen. The mother looked at her like she was crazy.

The nurse immediately pushed FAT BABY back to behind the desk. She took out a tape measure to see how he has grown and it didn't fit around FAT BABY. Why was nothing made in America made to fit? The nurse added another tape measure to the existing one and kept shaking her head. FAT BABY was excited when he was stripped down to get checked. The nurse kept poking and proding the mass of fat while FAT BABY laughed. The nurse asked where she found diapers big enough to fit him. She told her that she had to find diapers in the grown up section because the regular diapers are so tiny they can't fit. Why do all of these people think her baby is so big?

THE SERIAL FARTIST

What to eat, what to eat, the man asked himself before he headed to a job he held for the past fifteen years. Looking in the refrigerator for just the right combination to share with his fellow co-workers. He loved mixing foods to see what aroma would eventually break through, and over the years he has his favorites. A cauliflower and processes meat from a can really delighted him and gave the aroma of death, to which, he loved to share with anyone within a 1 mile distance. His love of flatulence wraps around him daily and some days seeps out of his pores.

The refrigerator was getting low of certain vegetables and meat combinations that he always consumes. He refuses to purchase grains for his diet because in his opinion, his flatulence is weakened. He reaches in and takes out a dish filled with sour kraut and hotdog chunks cooked in from the day before. He grabbed a spoon and began eating the concoction from the container it was stored in. He found the broccoli that accompanied the earlier meal. He immediately knew that his co-workers would be talking about him today. His flatulence is the only way he can get his collegues to notice him. Why did he have to be so boring?

After his breakfast he rushed to ready himself so he could give them the first of many aromas he knew would be his pride and joy. Racing through traffic the four miles to get to the office building that he hoped would permiate his smell his heart was racing. After parking in the back lot so he could work up the best of the meal he had just eaten he opened the door and looked around. Everyone was in their little cliques, talking about what, he did not know. He went straight to the coffee pot, knowing it was about to happen. He could feel his bowels rumble. His heart quickened and he slowly and softly allowed the first of many farts loose. Almost immediately he heard his name called. They notice me now. He stirred the creamer slowly as he allowed another silent fart to escape. Everyone was frantic now, wishing death upon him and praying to God to take them right now. He smiled with his back turned to them, breathing deeply the aroma that everyone didn't seem to appreciate.

He sipped the first taste of coffee and allowed one more fart out. This one though he had worked up so he knew it would be a record breaker. He slowly began to walk to his cubby hole while gassing the entire way. It was less than a few seconds when he heard his name cried out again. Sprays were used to try to mask his aroma, but he knew that no amount of spray would cover the last one. The man to his right cubicle jumped up and ran out of the door to the bathroom. He secretly prayed that the guy was throwing up in the stall. He always kept a smie on his face. He loved to smell his farts and share the only thing he had to share with the world.

FAT BABY'S party

Mom is trying to get Fat Baby ready for his first birthday. She looks through the closet for his huskies clothes and rolls him in his outfit. The doorbell rings and she knows the family is starting to arrive. Looking at Fat Baby she knows she will have to get him to the other room to answer the door but knows her back is not going to be able to handle all that weight. Mom starts to roll Fat Baby with her feet and he is laughing because it seems like a new game. Finally at the door, she opens to find her great aunt standing there with a beautiful wrapped gift and a big smile. She begins to walk into the house and trips over the Fat Baby. Momma apologises for having the kid in the walkway while the Fat Baby starts to cry; waving his fat arms in the air to be picked up.

Great aunt looks down at the fat blob on the ground that she had just tripped over and nearly broke her neck from. The first time she had seen him and is amazed at how fat this child is. She looks at the momma, "Oh that baby is too fat. He is so fat he can't bend to sit down. How fat are you going to let him get? Oh that fat fat baby. Look at your little fat arms. I'm trying to feel a bone in there and you're too fat to feel the bones. Who can hold you, you fat baby? Did you already eat all the cake? Where are your eyes? Oh gawd, the fat has ate your eyes. How many fingers am I holding up? Oh gawd, your mouth is too fat to talk. You are a roller. How much more fat can you add to your fat baby body? When I push in on your fat legs my fingers get lost. How have they found a diaper to fit all this baby? Oh gawd, I can't imagine the poop this fat baby makes. I've never been sick from looking at a baby, but this one is doing it. OH and you stink Fat Baby. You stink of fat and milk. You need a water diet and laxitives. No food Fat Baby, please no more food for you."

Mom stares at her aunt in disbelief, wondering why the lady keeps calling her baby fat. He's just the right size for a 1 year old. Is she kidding?

How fat are you going to let that kid get?

So, I was staring at possibly the fattest kid in the world. Don't worry, he was staring back at me. He raises one eyebrow and I wonder what's going on in his 2 year old fat brain. I refuse to look away because I can't let this kid win. I am the grown-up, it only makes sense that I should win. So the game is on. The mother of this child is not paying a bit of attention to what her fat son is doing;opting to read a magazine full of celebrity lives. So I remember what used to scare the crap out of me as a child and I have that as arsenal and know I will win this ridiculous game going on with this fat baby. It is then, at the exact moment I am going to use the magic the fat baby sticks out his tongue. What? How did he know the secret? That's okay, I am sure I can win this. No smiling to let this obese kid know I am not playing. He is not smiling because he already hates me. I realize at that moment I have the squint to trump the tongue. I use it, oh yeah, and the rewards of that one move is amazing. Not only does fat baby tear up, he grabs his mother with his fat little sausage hand fingers and starts crying. I do not give in to this kid and keep the look going until I can see the mother is about to turn around to see what is making her fat baby cry. I look at the "As Seen On Tv" shelf that adorn every shelf of any store across the nation. She looks back to see what has made her fat baby cry and I slowly look right at her. She smiles at me and I still keep my stoic look. She turns around because she know's it is me that has made her fat baby cry and that was like a double win. Oh yes, I am the winner. I wonder how she stuffed his little fat legs in the baby seat built in the basket. I know that it is going to be hard to get him out of that and I start to giggle. I hope that I am lucky enough to be there to watch this. I look and see that everything in her basket is a fat kids paradise and realize this kid is only going to get bigger. I wonder if he can walk or crawl yet.