My new "Project". A purpose to my living.

I've decided that I am going to undertake a sort of project. I was inspired by Anne Frank and how she not only kept a private diary about her time hiding away from the Nazis, but also was writing a more public version of it that she had hoped to publish one day. She labeled her diaries "A" for the private one she used on a regular basis, and "B" for the one she was writing to be published. There was also a "C" version that Otto, her father, had made by omitting some entries he thought were a bit too personal and revealing of Anne and thus they didn't belong in a published book.

Anne Frank's actual diary.

I am going to start making a more public version of my dairy, not necessarily to be published, but maybe to be read by family and friends as a sort of legacy of my struggles with MI, or maybe just a peek into my inner mind. I don't really know what the purpose of the journal is at this point, I just know I want to write one as if it were a book of some sort.

Anyways, I have by my side right now a composition notebook, which will serve as my means of organizing my thoughts before I actually write in the journal, which I also have at my side. My thinking is that I'll use the composition notebook to take "notes" and make memos to myself about what I am writing in the actual journal.

I don't know if I'm being overly ambitious or not, but I want at least some sort of legacy, which I think, is something a lot of others can relate to. Now, I'm not implying in any sort of fashion that I'm planning on leaving this mortal coil any time soon. No. I'm just in the mindset that someday, in the not too present future, perhaps when I've gone old and grey and maybe not of sound mind anymore, or perhaps even after I've died of old age, that I'll have left something for those who cared about me to read, and feel a deep sense of connection to.

I also want to record some family stories and knowledge within it as well, so that they aren't lost to time. I know that my paternal grandparents aren't getting any younger, and that they might not have too many more years left on them (though with their combined stubbornness and tenacity who really knows how much life they've got left to live), and my maternal grandparents are no longer among the living. I'm pretty sure that when my maternal grandmother passed on, a chunk of the family history she knew that we, her children and grandchildren probably didn't, and thus it was lost when she passed on.

I want to preserve what family memories and history there is left to record before it all is lost to time.

I'm using a large pink 400 pg. C. R. Gibson "Markings" brand journal for this "project". I might go back and use previous entries from other journals, or maybe just write from memory. I don't know yet.

This is the journal I'm using. Nice, eh?

Well, that's all for now so...

TTFN!!

And that's why he's called 'Cliff Hanger' !!

There used to be a kids show on PBS during the weekdays called "Between the Lions". It was a show that focused on a family of lions (portrayed with puppets) who lived in a library. During the course of the show, there would be segments that taught the viewers about phonics, spelling, basic grammar and how to read. Yes, this show's target audience was basically young children who were learning to read.

Anyways, one of the segments dealt with the male lion cub, Lionel, reading a series of adventure books to the audience that starred a protagonist, named Cliff Hanger, who was out adventuring one day and fell off a cliff. He just barely managed to grab onto a branch jutting out halfway down, with said branch being precariously close to snapping. Each segment/book had a situation present itself to Cliff that could potentially help him to escape his predicament, during which he would grab his "trusty survival manual" out of his pack, read the advice dealing with said situation therein and act on said advice. However, something would inevitably fail and Cliff would wind back hanging from the same branch shouting, "Can't...hold...on...much...longer!!!" as the branch wobbled and cracked, essentially leaving the audience on a "cliff hanger" as to whether or not he'd fall down or escape in time.

I feel your pain Cliff...

I brought this up because I often feel like poor "Cliff Hanger" in that I'm hanging precariously from a wobbling cracking branch halfway down a cliff and no matter what I try to escape that situation, I feel like I always wind back on that same branch. I feel like I'm always on the edge of whether or not I'll escape the depression for good.

It's a good thing that, in the end of the series, Cliff managed to escape the branch once and for all, and wound up relaxing in a lounge chair that was beachside, on a tropical island resort. His signature "Cant..hang...on...much....longer!" was replaced with "Can't....stay....awake....much.....longer.", after which he fell asleep. So maybe if I keep at it like Cliff, I'll someday get off that branch. One can only hope.

Well, that's all for now.

TTFN!!

Crayola Crayon Obsession

I've always been in love with my crayons. I can remember fondly of being excited whenever my mother bought me a new box of Crayola crayons to use at school when I was little. I couldn't wait to get to school, sit at my desk, and pull out that box of fresh new crayons, with all their unused tips glinting in light of the many halogen bulb fueled classroom fixtures, their colorful labels yet unblemished or torn from usage. To bring that open box close to my nose, and inhale that fresh and unused crayon scent. Pure childhood ecstasy! Not to mention how wonderful it felt to pull one of those brand new, completely unused crayons from it's place in the box, and to bring it to paper for the first time! It was an almost indescribable feeling, to be honest.

I would exclaim to my mother on the morning before going to school "I get to use my new crayons today!!" and literally be unable to contain my excitement as I prepared for the school day. I would do so as quickly as possible so I could hurry up and get to my classroom for the soul purpose of getting being able to use my new crayons. The bigger the box one would get, the more popular one would be in class. You know if you had more colors than the other kids, you'd be the one they'd all either envy in a teeth gritting silence, or walk up to, asking to use a color they didn't have. Either way, you'd be the talk of the classroom if you got the really big box, which, in my youth, was the 64 pack of crayons. It even had a built in sharpener, albeit one which was next to unusable, in the lower back side of the box. That was the big league of crayon boxes.

Unfortunately, my mother rarely, if ever bought me that huge box. She thought it was unnecessarily indulgent for what I needed, plus, it wouldn't really fit in my pencil box as nicely, not if I wanted some actual pens and pencils in there, that is. The biggest set she would agree to buy for me was the more modest 48 pack. Still a nice set, and it left plenty of room in my box for pencils and pens, but it just wasn't as attention getting as the 64 pack.

Then one day, Crayola rolled out their biggest yet package, the 96 pack of crayons, and that just blew my 10 year old mind. Of course, by then, my classes no longer required crayons as part of their supply list, so Mom stopped getting them for me. I settled for simply using the collection of my old crayons I had amassed over my childhood years and was placated for a while.
It wasn't until my mid teens when I was out shopping with my mother, that I saw that overly huge set of 96 crayons, and remembering how popular a big box of crayons made a kid in grade school, I had to have it. I asked my mother if I could have it, and she said yes. Once again I could enjoy the pleasures of a brand new box of crayons. Of course, by then, I had matured to be more gentle on my crayons, and cherished the 96 set box as if it were my baby. I stored them on a shelf in my closet when not in use, and kept the box as neat and pristine as possible. I also kept the crayons all sorted and when I did use them, I colored as softy as possible to keep the tips as long as I could.
All of this gentleness and tender care came crashing to a halt when my younger brother, of three years, came home one day and pulled the very much rumpled and dented box I worked so hard to keep so nice from out of his book bag. My crayons weren't as I had last left them, safely in my closet. The tips of many were broken off, and some were completely snapped in two, or three places!! I was irate. I demanded he replace them, but my mother just laughed and said "They're just a box of crayons." Not being able to argue my point, I hung my head in defeat, and flung myself into my room to mourn my broken crayons in peace.

I don't recall my brother ever replacing those crayons, he might have at some point, so it's no use to demand he buy me some now. After all, this happened over 15 years ago.
After yet another hiatus of having no access to crayons, and now being able to buy crayons for the first time for myself, I naturally went to the source, Crayola.com, and bought the biggest set money could buy, the Crayola Crayon Tower, with a whopping 150 different colors, with some in metallic and glittery shades. If the 96 set of crayons made me feel good, you can only imagine how elated I felt getting my hands on the 150 box set!! The clear container it came in was even cool as it telescoped upward with a twist to make a tall tower carousel type setup from which each crayon was highly visible and nestled next to the handle is sharpener (one that is actually worthwhile) in a cool clear turquoise-green color. I still have this set, and it's right next to me on my shelf as I type this blog entry. Here's a picture of it.

Crayola Crayon Tower with 150 different colors.

Of course, Crayola later released an even bigger set, with 152 different colors in it called the "Ultimate Crayon Collection". Naturally, I became somewhat enamored by this set as well, what with it's promise of two more unique colors than the "Crayon Tower" I had. However, when I compared it to tower, I felt the tower had more going for it with the container itself. I just placated myself with a possible future purchase of the smaller, but still impressive, 120 crayon box so I could have those two elusive colors, and an additional 118 duplicate colors to keep me happy for a long time.
So, there ends my Crayola crayon journey. Oh, and by the way, my favorite Crayola crayon color was always "Periwinkle", that purplish-blue crayon that seemed to stand out from the rest for me. I would always use it the least, to save it the longest. Now you know.

TTFN

Welcome to My Blog!!

Hi all!!

It's a new year, so I decided to reboot my beloved blog here. I know it hasn't caught many people's attention but I guess that's mostly due to my neglecting it a bit. So, without further ado, I am going to start it up again. This blog is mainly just going to be a catchall for my emotions, and sometimes my struggles.

I wanted to start this reboot off with a real doozy of a topic. I'm a sufferer of clinical depression, I'll admit that right now. So when I see things in the world that deal with mental health and wellbeing, it strikes a very personal note within me. As anyone who's kept even the faintest eye on current events has probably noticed, the US has recently had one of it's most hotly debated and controversial electoral periods in a very long while. I was one of the many Americans who's choice for the next US President was a hotheaded, bullying, man-child who's many twitter tantrums just exhaust me, or a woman who's husband was most likely struggling with sex addiction, and the struggles with their foundation's corruption. Naturally, I voted for the woman. I sure hated the idea of a man-child as president.

Personal feelings and election results aside, I'm sure all of us in America are smart and observant to at least recognize something about Trump, even if some folks aren't quite ready to admit it yet. What is this "something", you ask? Well, it's that there just isn't something right about Trump's state of mental wellbeing. I could elaborately go on and on about each and every point I have regarding why I myself have observed this, but I think the recent Tweet from Keith Olbermann says it all:

NEW: The video to send to the person you know who is still supporting Trump. There is no yelling and no policy talk pic.twitter.com/8ADyBBuFi2

— Keith Olbermann (@KeithOlbermann) January 6, 2017

Anyways, I guess I'll end this post here.

TTFN