Shopping Shrinks & Bowls

I wanted to take some time to absorb things, so I hopped a bus to Boardman after I left the shrink’s office yesterday. So much for a mad shopping spree. I spent a whole $1.07 at the card shop in the mall and only $6 and change down at “Pipe Dreamz” on Market Street.

So, how did the shrink appointment go?

We talked. I think we reached a greater understanding or at least now we can talk to clarify what is said with what is heard, if that makes sense. Like, I told him that he pissed me off and he hears that I was angry so I must have projected anger felt towards someone else on him as that happens sometimes… but no, it was not misdirected. Talking about what exactly pissed me off lead to talking about other things and I feel much better about our ability to communicate more effectively now.

Oh, want to see what I got up at the Re-Hab store?

That brown wok shaped bowl resting on a chafing dish base will become a little bird bath for a flower bed, with a bit of clear caulk and a purple birdie. The ceramic cat will go outside, too. I also got candle glass, picture frames, and a few other things, but didn’t find what I went there looking for (small baking dishes) so maybe better luck next time.

As for the yellow bowl? It is old with crazed glaze, inside and out, and feels way too heavy for a bowl of that size. I don’t know why I bought it as I don’t think it is suitable for food use, not sure what I am going to do with it. I feel like there is something special about this bowl, so if you know anything about old bowls, please share. This one was made by the “GEM CLAY FORMING CO” in Sebring, Ohio.

Thanks for reading today!

Gone Girly!

This might be a somewhat bizarre or temporary side effect of cognitive behavior therapy, but I’ve plum out gone girly. I was out shopping on Wednesday and caught myself looking at mascara!

No, I did not buy any… but I did wonder if the major difference between types was more or less the shape of the brush. I was in the makeup aisle to select another pink lipstick, my little reward for good behavior. (I’m trying different “low end” brands because I got tired of the lid falling off the Elizabeth Arden inside my purse.) This week, I picked Revlon’s “Gentlemen Prefer Pink” and I really like this lipstick, although the name is amusing. What gentleman prefers pink? Are they selling lipsticks or illusions?

I did buy Revlon’s BB Cream and a couple other girly things, then stopped to get my hair cut. I was going to walk down to the shoe store in the same plaza to see if they had any sweet boots on sale, but it was just too gosh darn cold.

This sudden interest in girly stuff has me baffled. Then it hit me, as I was washing my face like an old lady with cold cream, that I wasn’t even tempted to buy any of my old favorite binge foods. I walked right passed things without a thought, must less another silent internal battle of what has been a forty year war. Well, it wasn’t alway silent as I did cuss out that Little Debbie a few years back. Yes, out loud. People probably thought I was frikkin nuts but I had banned that bitch from my house. How dare she try to whisper at me?

The thing is… I had absolutely no interest, no temptation, no desire to even give a second glance. Oh, such sweet freedom and I didn’t even realize it until hours had passed. It still amazes me.

Thanks for reading!

Edge of Reason

“Nancy, don’t be like that.”

I cannot count the number of times that I have been gently scolded with those words. I am not allowed to express anger, not allowed to vent rage, not allowed to speak my mind if what I have to say might upset somebody or be construed as not nice.

This is not just an echo from childhood inside my head. I am fifty-two years and still being scolded.

Nancy, don’t be like that.

But I am like that… and there are times when I should be like that.


When my husband left me, I could not afford to continue living in the home we shared, so I moved. And then I moved again. So to be very clear – this was MY home, not his. And everything in it was MY stuff, and yes… it was old stuff: a mix of antiques and used things that I had slowly gathered. It was my home and I liked my stuff.

By then, we were getting along okay and doing the co-parent thing, so when he volunteered to watch our daughter at my place so I could go out for a birthday drink with a friend, I said okay.

I came home to a house-full of smiling people, including my parents, all waiting to see the expression of joy on my face when I walked in the door and saw a big red bow on the couch of a brand new living room set. Yes, while I was gone, my ex-husband redecorated MY post-divorce home to HIS tastes.

I was angry, demanding “where’s my stuff?”
Mama scolded me. “Nancy, don’t be like that.”

I felt robbed. My stuff was GONE… replaced with huge fluffy contemporary furniture, all neutral beige, the fabric in the living room matching the fabric on the dining room’s padded chrome swivel chairs.

I bit back the tears and ran to my bedroom to see if he redecorate that room to his tastes, too. Sigh of relief to see it unchanged. Thank goodness I had moved the little antique horse-hair couch out of the living room or it would have been gone too, hauled off to the dump with everything else.

I took a moment to compose myself before I had to go back out and say what was expected of me, to thank the man who stole my stuff.


I picked an example that doesn’t matter anymore, one that clearly explains how I am “not allowed” to feel what I feel. I have to swallow it down, quench those emotions, let things slide, never seek resolution, restitution, just let it slide… hide those feelings, keep them locked inside, let it slide… again and again and again and again and never say hey, we need to set some boundaries here, this is unacceptable… or can we sit down and talk, try to reach a mutual understanding? No… supposed to let it slide. I am not allowed to be angry. No matter what, I am supposed to let it slide.

I can’t do that anymore because I don’t know how to shove down “inappropriate” emotions without bingeing. I can’t do that anymore. It is not an option.

I guess I am out in left field, learning to deal with emotions as they come. Nancy, don’t be like that?

I am coming to the conclusion that there are no “inappropriate” emotions, just inappropriate ways of expressing them.

Thanks for reading… it really helps to write.