Tag Archives: mental-health

It Is Enough to Drive the Loony Sane

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And by the way, I am sure it will keep an army of psychologists and psychiatrist all properly confused for the next hundred years and maybe a little longer.

The thought occurred to me to carry the last post a little further; you know the one about being unique. You ask one teen why he is wearing a ring through his nose, and he will say, “Because all my friends are doing it.” It is an act of conformity, and if the parent says no, the teen will immediately go into the rant they had planned well in advance.

In the suburban landscape, a few miles beyond the familiar horizon, a teenage son returns home, his nose adorned with a gleaming ring. His parents exchange bewildered glances as he declares his desire for individuality. Ironically, the very accessory he believes sets him apart is ubiquitous among his peers, who cling to this symbol of rebellion with such fervor that they would sooner sacrifice a limb than part with their piercing.

In one case, it is pro-conformity, and in the other case, it’s the desire to be different. Oh, by the way, it’s more than jewelry. At least half the reason the Beatles were such a big success was because someone convinced the world of teens that they were the best singing group ever. And danger lurks for those non-conformists who found them to be making irritating noise to a beat.

In our youth, we were swept up in the fervent pursuit of the latest cultural trends. Every new record, fashion item, toy, and novelty seemed essential to our very existence. Remember those quirky painted rocks, crudely adorned with misaligned facial features, that somehow captured our collective imagination? The excitement of acquiring these ephemeral treasures was an integral part of our shared experience, driving us to constantly seek out the next big thing.

While the text appears to explore the concept of uniqueness, I’m uncertain if that aligns with the original intent. I apologize if I’ve misinterpreted the intention.

What Makes me Laugh?

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Unexpected bursts of laughter punctuate my days, catching me off guard with their spontaneous delight. Initially reluctant to explore this writing prompt, I soon realized that these unscripted moments of joy are the most precious—emerging suddenly, transforming ordinary instances into memorable snapshots of pure, unadulterated happiness.

However, these are usually also the ones I can’t think of at the moment. It is good that God has given us humor to allow us to cope. One day near the end of Marine boot camp, I started laughing. The guy next to me cautioned me that I would suffer if I were caught, and he was right. However, I replied, “I have to laugh. If I don’t, I’ll cry.”

I guess God gave us both laughing and crying as coping mechanisms. For the time being, though, I’ll forego my comments on crying as the prompt was for laughing. Besides, we Marines never, never cry.

Children bring us laughter, right? And at the most unexpected times. I can remember the first time my 1-year-old son tasted a lemon; then fussed when we took it from him. Of course we immediately gave it back and he ate it. Never figured on that one.

Pets are divine comedians, sent to brighten our lives with unbridled joy. My loyal canine companion found pure bliss in pursuing oversized rubber spheres, a mere $2.99 investment that yielded endless entertainment. Despite his valiant efforts to conquer the unwieldy orb, his teeth never quite found purchase. Inevitably, after an exhausting pursuit, he would manage to pop the ball, while we dissolved into fits of uncontrollable laughter. Those three dollars were a masterful purchase, transforming an ordinary afternoon into a memory of pure, unadulterated happiness.

Cats possess an enchanting fascination with strings, their playful nature coming alive as they track the elusive movement. Watching their determination intensify when the string disappears beneath furniture is a delightful spectacle of feline curiosity. Their love for boxes transcends size – from sprawling cardboard containers to tiny packages – each becomes an irresistible playground. Even when logic suggests a box is too small, cats will ingeniously contort themselves to fit, defying physical constraints with remarkable flexibility. Perhaps most amusing is their laser pointer pursuit, where they leap and bound with wild abandon, scaling walls in an epic chase against an unattainable light, embodying pure, unbridled joy.

Yet, as I reflect on those moments, memories dance across my mind, bringing forth a warm, nostalgic smile.

The act of writing brought unexpected joy, punctuating my reflective moments with subtle grins. Each carefully crafted word seemed to unlock memories and emotions, transforming my initial hesitation into a meaningful exploration of thought and experience. thus, I can say, even the prompt brought a smile, if not an outburst of laughter.

3 Questions About my New I-phone

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I recently purchased an iPhone 14 from T-Mobile and quickly discovered several intriguing features that piqued my curiosity. Initially, I noticed a small tab near the volume buttons and wondered about its purpose. A couple days ago, a voicemail from my sister arrived, which caught my attention because the phone had remained silent during the incoming call. These unexpected details prompted me to explore the device’s functionality more closely.

Frustration mounted as I navigated through the labyrinthine settings, certain I had accidentally silenced my phone’s ringer. Despite my systematic search, the elusive mute option remained hidden. Determined, I dialed my number three consecutive times, each call connecting flawlessly, yet not a single sound emerged from the device.

Now I had three questions: the little tab, how I muted the ringer and how in the world I was going to get the thing turned back on before throwing the thing through the nearest wall.

My determination was put to the test as I meticulously searched for nearly ninety minutes before reluctantly reaching out to the local T-Mobile store. To my amusement, my call not only solved my problem but also brought unexpected joy to the customer service representative. Her laughter, palpable even through the phone, suggested a shared moment of understanding, as she revealed she had experienced a similar situation herself.

She clarified everything with her response. The indicator tab functioned as a switch, and when displaying red, it signaled that the ringer was deactivated—exactly as I had observed on my device.

I’m thoroughly impressed with this phone. Despite a few minor quirks I’m still navigating, it significantly outperforms my previous device. The innovative concept behind the switch is particularly compelling, and I commend the design team’s creative approach. My only reservation is the level of secrecy surrounding it.

Fifty Times a Day

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The man said, “Giving up cigarettes is one of the easiest things I ever did. I did it fifty times a day.” I have often said that food addiction is probably one of the most difficult of all. It is ultimately impossible because none of us is able to go cold turkey and just stop eating. I mean, at some point, giving it up is worse than getting fat. As one who fights the battle of the bulge, I am all too aware of the temptations. One minute I am saying outlaw chocolate; the next, I am scarfing it up by the pound. Thank goodness for diet drinks, or I’d have been pushing up the proverbial daisies years ago.

Many problem drinkers adamantly claim, “I’m not an alcoholic. I can stop drinking whenever I want.” Yet, the irony lies in the fact that they never actually want to quit. A preacher once colorfully described this phenomenon, suggesting such individuals have a “broken wanter” – a metaphorical term implying a deep-seated inability to truly desire change, despite outward assertions of control over their drinking habits.

Please forgive me for zeroing in on the problem drinker. Though he would seem to be one of the biggest problems in society, he is far from being the only one. My doctor says I should not eat so many hamburgers. And, by the way, I can give up hamburgers any time I want. However, habits, really deadly bad habits, extend throughout the US. Indeed, it would seem to be most problematic in societies with the greatest wealth.

Perhaps I should not say that. Someone might suggest that my Social Security be halved as a treatment for my clogged arteries.

I suppose, ideally, the easiest way to resolve the problem is to repair those little wanters that the preacher mentioned. However, before we could hope to do that, we would need to find the little things.

Some might go so far as to outlaw certain foods. Some substances are already illegal. Yet, each year the problem only seems to get worse. I think that close to half of our law enforcement efforts are spent eradicating harmful substances now.

Ah, the classic dilemma: solve chaos with total control or embrace the beautiful mess of human imperfection. I’d rather dance with disorder than waltz into a surveillance state—some cures are deadlier than the disease.

Work for Food?

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Yesterday, a young man knocked on my door offering to rake the leaves in my yard. I was a bit surprised, as my yard was already mostly clear of fallen leaves. I politely informed him that his services were not needed at this time.

When he asked for food, I initially hesitated, as I generally avoid giving money to panhandlers. However, he did not seem to be begging outright, so I decided to offer him a five-dollar bill, which may not have gone far in today’s economy, but could still provide him with sustenance for a day or two.

The reason I avoid giving money to beggars is that it can become habit-forming and a way of life. It is better that I encourage people to earn their living; it is better for them than for me. The worst thing to do for someone is to teach them to beg.

Unfortunately, some individuals have resorted to begging as a means of survival. The pleas they make, while varied, often follow a similar pattern, such as requesting assistance with transportation costs to return home. It appears that even the smallest denominations of currency have become insufficient due to the effects of inflation on their circumstances.

Besides learning bad habits, it also creates problems for those who truly need help, those who are genuinely hungry, though they have made real attempts. To be sure, I say no to those in true need because of the fakes.

I noticed just a while ago on TV, they pointed out the starvation in Africa. It both angers me and pulls at my heartstrings. The reason those people are going hungry has nothing to do with the lack of generosity of Americans. It has rather been caused by the greed of some individuals, mostly dems, who have diverted the aid to themselves.

Unfortunately, it has been repeatedly proven that our government is the least effective and efficient way of distributing groceries. Indeed, much of the food and supplies never reach their intended destinations.

This has been proven again with the audits of USAID. However, it didn’t start there. Remember the aid sent to Puerto Rico. It happens every time. We send three times the aid they need, and they receive only two-thirds of what they need.

It would be great to send food to those hungry people, if it would reach them. The problem is that thieves tend to pilfer the supplies along the way.

I Suggest a New Law

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This is an unusual suggestion. Typically, I would recommend against having too many laws. However, in this case, I believe this could be a beneficial law that is worth considering.

To ensure the law remains effective, it is important to limit the involvement of lawyers. The length should be kept to no more than four paragraphs, as any longer would likely make the text overly complex. If lawyers are allowed to contribute, the law could become excessively lengthy and difficult to understand, even for legal professionals.

It would say something like this:

All authorities issuing death certificates shall send a copy to the Social Security Administration on paper.

To prevent the inadvertent issuance of false documents, the Social Security Administration should send a registered letter to the individual reported as deceased, requesting verification of their status. If the person is alive but unable to respond directly, an appropriate representative should be able to do so on their behalf.

Intentionally creating false or misleading documents is considered fraudulent and may result in legal consequences.

If the recipient does not respond to the letter within ninety days, they will be presumed deceased and removed from the active register. No further payments will be made to that individual, except for any applicable survivor benefits.

An appropriate consequence should be included. The advantage of the law is that it would prevent sending payments to deceased individuals, and it would be easily understood by all.

The process of distributing payments to individuals located outside the United States may require a more nuanced approach. It would be prudent to consult legal experts who can navigate the complexities of international law and ensure compliance with relevant regulations.

The advantages of this approach are straightforward:

1) It encourages ethical behavior and accountability.

2) It helps preserve the Social Security system for future generations.

3) It protects the system from those who would seek to exploit it for personal gain, ensuring its sustainability for younger individuals.

Real Choices

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There isn’t a day goes by I don’t hear about the rights of women’s choices. To be sure, a person does need to be able to make choices that effect their lives. To be sure, people do make choices every day. Some are good. Some, not so good. Some inconsequential. The hitch, so many of our decisions are made without any idea how long term those decisions can be. We think that they will last for a while and then the consequences, good or bad, will last just a while.

Consider a person gets in a car and drives while under then influence. After a short time, they wake up in hospital room and the doctor tells you, you will never walk again… or see again. If you had planned on making a living using your eyes, you soon realize that isn’t going to happen.

Perhaps all you do is go swimming. You dive and then the only reason you’re still alive is because your friends came to your rescue. Then you get to try out all those experimental things, the robotic things that might allow you to walk again, but slowly. If that is successful, you’ll celebrate a ten foot walk across the room.

You might miss that off-ramp and you have to wait and get off at the next one. That one isn’t so bad. It cost, time, frustration, and, of course, fuel.

The thing is, of course, when a woman decides to go into a place to get an abortion, she should realize it is not as simple as she might think. She gets to make the decision but the baby gets no say in the matter. Of all people, the unborn is totally helpless. He can’t even cry out in pain. If the mother goes through with it, a child will suffer and then die. The child does not have a choice. What a horrible thing if the first choice you make concerning your child, is to kill it. What a horrible thing, you will never meet him or her. You will never see him take his first step or hear his first words.

Worst of all, choice might be made over nothing more than convenience, a means of birth control.

If you do make the choice to kill the baby, at least take a few precautions. What kind of clinic is it. What are the possibilities of infection. Will the doctor provide a follow-up exam? Every time I had a tooth pulled, the dentist had me back in the office a week later to make sure there were no complications. That’s right, complications are possible. Sometimes, odd as it might seem, the baby even might live. It has happened. On the other hand, the baby might have died but was not totally removed. This sort of thing is not common, but it does happen and the resulting infection can result in the death of the mother. A woman is rushed to the e-room with pain, temperature and infection, not realizing the source of the problem. Then, besides paying for the abortion, she has to dig deeper into that savings account to pay for the hospital visit.

Finally, one more caution. Before you make that choice, make sure it is one that you can live with. You will, you know. The rest of your life. Before you make that choice, you might check with a few who have made that choice. You might want to find out if they are having problems living with it. It is one of those permanent choices, you know. It has no backspace key. It has no undo function. Every morning for the rest of your life, you will be reminded. With some, I have heard, it never gets better. The memory only gets harder as you notice other women with children the same age as yours might have been.

You can, of course, just harden your heart. You can learn to live with it. However, is this something you want to force yourself to live with. Broken bones heal. I know. I have had a number of them. Contrary to the popular saying, time does not heal all wounds. Those emotional ones have a tendency to dig in and only grow worse over time.

One Score = Twenty Years

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Actually, it means 20 anything. According to Reference.com, it was originally used to count livestock. Marks, or scores were made on a convenient piece of wood to keep track of the scores. Only, back then, it was old Norse and was spelt skor.

More recently, people have used it for speeches, like the Gettysburg Address. I guess old Abe realized that four score and seven sounds so-o-o much better than just simply saying eighty-seven years.

Actually, I never figured on writing all that, but as I decided on my title, I figured I should double check. I mean, considering how my memory has failed me lately, I wanted to make sure it wasn’t for ten. Then as usual, when I looked it up, I found out so much more.

So to get back to my original thought, I mean, the idea that one score makes 20 years. A few days ago I got to thinking about it. I know. As my wife says, I do entirely too much time thinking. I would suspect some of those reading this agree.

At any rate, I figure it this way,

At an age of 1 skor, I realized I would never be a major league, or even a minor league pitcher. How disappointing. When I was 12, I was so looking forward to it.

At the age of 2 skor, I realized I would never be president. I knew I would never be a millionaire. How horrible. Worse, I had to start wearing reading glasses. I was no longer able to do 200 sit-ups non stop. (Really, when I was in high school I could and did.) What a horrible thing to be confronted with.

At an age of 3 skor, I already had my first heart attack. Worse yet, it was a realization that the 2 skor thing was really real. It was a reinforcement that I was getting old. I mean, I was really looking at retirement. It was hiding right around the corner.

Well now, it is 3 skor and 16; almost 4 skor. Can you believe that? I can’t. Even so, every time I go out and work in the yard for a while, I am reminded. Every time I try to read instructions micro-printed on the side of a bottle, reality comes knocking on the door.

Then too, there are my 2 mile walks. Even when the outdoor temp is 64 degrees, I fall in my easy chair after, sweat dripping off of me.

It causes me to wonder at the start of each day, am I going to make it to 4 skor.

The Great Pretender

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Somewhat staying with the music idea, let’s say a word about the 1955 Platters song “The Great Pretender.” Though it is an old song, it has a staying power. Just a wild guess, but I would guess that at least 60% of the the current US population have at least heard the song once. Quite frankly, I can see why. The tune is nice, but the words really hit home with just about all of us. Well, maybe, all of us. Certainly most of us have felt like singing the words right out loud, and mean them.

Indeed, most of us do some real pretending, pretending that everything is okay. We are doing just fine while we are breaking up inside. We don’t want the world to know just how much we are hurting.

Well, to me, the song, or at least the title has new meaning. You see, the dems are now the great pretenders. They have been pretending that everything is fine. Old Joe’s doing fine and his mental faculties are that of a forty-year-old. Now, things have changed. Their secret is out. I dare say close to 99% of the country now knows of his mental problems.

How-some-ever, the pretending has changed. You see, they all knew all the time, especially those that saw Old Joe on a regular basis. However, they pretend they didn’t know. They pretend that they are as surprised as the rest of us. No one wants to admit their part in the pretense.

The reality was… they knew alright and they knew all the time. It just is they they also knew they didn’t want us to know.

Now there is panic. Do they keep pretending Old Joe’s fine in spite of what the world has seen? Do they try to get him to step aside? Do they invoke amendment 25? All the choices have problems. All solutions have advantages.

For instant, if they invoke 25th, it is only a temporary solution. Old Joe is still on the ballot unless they can figure out some way to get him off of it. If he refuses to step aside, he will be selected on the first ballot at the Democrat convention as the nominee. I see no way around it. Even if he does step aside, the party really has a big black eye, trying to force a mentally disabled man on the country.

As I see it, maybe the best possibility is to allow Joe to run, and then immediately remove him with the 25th. As I say, It might be the best possibility, but it would appear, the best ain’t good. It would have to improve some to be poor. I’m really not looking forward to listening to Kamala’s voice for the next 4 years.

At any rate, we can now denote the Democrat Party as the party of the Great Pretenders.

At What Cost

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From time to time, I have had reason to seek a cost. Sometimes, honestly I realize I will never be able to afford the product. Other times, I realize the product might one day be within my reach.

The other day I asked the price of a med, knowing I can’t afford it, but I must. My life might very well depend on it. A so it was, yesterday, I bought 30 pills at just a little over 10 dollars a pill. It’s for a blood clot. At least for the short term, that will be added to my my monthly cost of drugs. It is already a lot despite Medicare and insurance.

So, hopefully, the little pills will permit me to survive, but at what price? The drugs had genuine empathy for me, but she did need to pay for the pills and make a little profit.

I keep seeing those commercials on TV, you know the ones about the implanted teeth. I don’t have the money, but I was a little curious. I went up one side of the internet and down the other and could not find one place where I could find a broad guess.

I know there are variations, but I would not expect as much as they would like us to think. I’m sure, by now, it has become somewhat standard. Surely they have standard prices they give insurance companies.

Now me, especially after the new price to my meds, there is simply no way I could afford them. If my teeth get so bad, I’ll just have go without. It is something of an encouragement to brush and floss.

So, let’s assume you, a multi-millionaire, are the one who is going to have the full implant. Let’s say you meet people daily and you need to make a good impression.

You walk into the store and say, “How much for a full set of teeth?” I don’t think you will get an answer but a question. I don’t have any idea why it works that way, but it does seem to be a hard fast rule.

I got on the phone one day trying to get a price on something and a very nice woman answered and the first thing she said was ask for my address.

That prompted me to scratch my head. “You need my name and address before…”

I’m sure you get the idea. Sometimes, I need to know the price for planning. Sometimes, I need to know the price to see if I can afford or if I will need another approach.

Rich folks don’t need to ask or know prices. Maybe this is the way they make sure to keep the riff-raff out of their clientele. If so, it works.

I find myself a little confused as to how end this. Maybe it is because there is no end. On the other hand it just might be I’m no good at writing. I tried to solve that, really I did. Those editors want a bunch of money too.