…my brain on a Monday¬†

  
“This is your brain…this is your brain on drugs… Any questions? “. You may recall this powerful Public Service Announcement funded by the Partnership for Drug-free Kids. It ran in 1987. This ad has always stayed with me… I’ve created many versions of this PSA in regards to my own brain…some are quite funny and some…well not so much. 
Today’s brain PSA….
AND…this is my brain …on Monday! 

Did you see that shirt I just had? Where’d my pants go? I just had them are you kidding me? Is that my phone? Can someone shut the alarm off?  Anyone? Hello? Ok…found pants…where’d my shirt go?

Never mind I will shut the alarm off… Thanks though! 

Coffee water is heated…start making it…

Recycling has to go to curb…why is it cold out?

Shirt? Do we have zip lock bags?

“What day is it? A or B? ” she inquires…

Huh? I have no idea…brain frantically searches…am I supposed to know this? Did I lose that memo? 

I ask…what do you mean? (Even though I have quickly figured out that she means that she wants me to open the app on my phone and find out for her)

Ok… Where are my shoes? Where are your shoes? What the hell is my name? Oh yeah phone… Where’d I put it? 

Umm…”I don’t even know where my phone is” of course I find it…and I look up what day it is…I don’t know if it’s A or B … But you have English 

Did I make my coffee? Have to bring the compost buckets out.  Was that the microwave?  Wait a minute… Where’s my phone?  Is that the recycling truck I hear? 

Should I start the car? Zip locks? What am I going to pack lunches in? There’s my shirt! Is the water hot enough to make my coffee? Yay! A new box of zip locks! Excellent! Two lunches to pack… Coffee? Did I start the car yet? 

“I can’t find my fleece!” Hmmmm. My brain scans to visualize where I last saw that fleece… Maybe the stairs? Must pack those lunches… Oh the water is hot again…start the coffee… Fleece?  Did I forget to buy creamer? 

“I can’t find my iPad”…. Couch? Kitchen? Fleece? Near the backpack? Wait a minute! The fleece is right here…  The fleece was found and the search party wasn’t called off.  Not a surprise! 

Lunches!!!! Finish making coffee. iPad? Where did you use it last ? Searching….searching… Is it in Dad’s office with your bass? No! Ugh! Ok…lunches done…is this my coffee? Can someone see if the car is started? 

“The cat? Mom we don’t have a cat! ”  sigh… 

Why????

 (Insert expletive here) … What? “My iPad was underneath my backpack the whole time! Can we go? Mom I’m going to be late”

Really? REALLY?? REALLY???!!!!!

Sigh… This is 15 minutes of my Monday morning… Today’s coping strategy? 

  
This has been a public service announcement from my brain on a Monday…

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blackout

blackout
WHY

must I feel

Everybody’s

E-V-E-R-Y-T-H-I-N-G

as though

we are C_O_N_N_E_C_T_E_D

by circuitry

thousands of extension cords

jumbled chaos

intertwined

buzzing super highways with

only one exit

MY

BRAIN

I blink

I breathe

I gasp

I cry

and I wait

and I pray

for a

blackout
sudden darkness

still and

quiet

blown transformers from

overloaded circuits

halting the buzz

to a

whisper

I stretch and
try to catch my

breath

try to breathe

fully

in the shelter of

candlelight

craving oxygen to the

deepest

corners of my

lungs

resting in the
quiet

ears healing from the constancy

of the world that surrounds

me

gathering the
grace

and the

peace

and the

strength

I will need

until

the next

blackout

The Persistence of Memory

Please note my use of ‘an’ and not ‘the’. ‘The’ edge does not exist in my world. There are a plethora of edges …each with their own neatly organized list of criteria for going over. Sometimes it’s pretty… This time it was not. 
By nature, I am a fixer…and tonight, this is what led to my demise. And now, the backstory. I received a Starbucks gift card for Christmas from a treasured family that I do elder care with. Lately, my nine year old has become fond of the double chocolate chip frappaccino… A little too fond , so fond in fact that I searched up the copycat recipe on Pinterest. I scanned the recipe to be certain that all of the ingredients were within grasp. Sweet! Ready to roll! I was having a proud frugal mama moment.  
I gathered the ingredients, the nutri ninja base and cup,and the cover with the blade that makes all the magic happen. I even had the whipped cream and a recycled frappaccino cup. I followed the recipe very carefully making sure that all ingredients were measured to the ‘t’. I was happily tallying all the money I’d be saving by this fabulous idea as I placed the cover on the container. My heart was beating happily in anticipation.  
I placed the container in the base and pressed down to engage the motor. I could hardly contain myself! I was celebrating victory inside my head… What a party …champagne, chocolate fountain….

As I lifted the cup from the base, all of that frappaccino goodness poured from the bottom of the cup. The cover that holds the blade had loosened during all that magic. My brain immediately flashed a view of the masterpiece that is Salvador Dalis melting clocks…so aptly named the Persistence of Memory.

  
And so it was the persistence of the memory of all the bank I’d be rolling by making this beverage at home that fueled what became my undoing.
You see… The ninja comes with more than one blade cover. Aha! And guess what?! Each cover has a sweet little gray piece of rubber that is called the gasket. There it was! A loose gasket and a blade without one. Just as I began rejoicing the solution ….it happened. Why wasn’t this gasket fitting soon turned into ‘if it’s the last effing thing I do in my life …this gasket is going to fit!”  

  
I tried a knife, scissors, a chopstick… Nothing …a corkscrew…Nothing! I googled it… Watched YouTube video clips… Nothing! Two long hrs passed, peppered with colorful expletives… I had to get to bed… I stomped into my husbands office and chucked all the parts onto his desk with a gruff “Over an edge!” 

I went to bed… Still reeling and muttering to myself. The freshly washed Starbucks frappaccino cup remained empty among the disaster of the kitchen counter, the empty green straw leaning wearily against the side of the cup.

When I woke the next morning, I went to investigate the progress. Part of me prayed my husband was unsuccessful … Like that would make me feel less of a failure! At first glance it looked like that was the case… Gasket still laying next to the blade cover. Maybe I’m not as hopeless as I thought! Ha! He couldn’t do it either… Let the rejoicing commence! 
“You couldn’t do it either huh?” I was feeling better. Both of us had failed to get into the Mensa club of the nutri ninja! 

Then it came, like a wall of embarrassment … Red hot cheeks… “Um… There’s already a gasket in this cover”, he stated.

No need to share the rest of my reaction… After all, there were three blade covers… The gasket-less one in the sink. Sigh… Fast forward 25 minutes…..

  
…and as I handed the crisp dollars to the lovely barista I inched slightly towards the plateau… back up from ‘an’ edge that I had been sent over.

…walking the blurred line

Dreams they come
muddled and fragmented
flowing together in pieces of one another…
a representation of the patterns of my thoughts that during the day are maneuverable … manageable at the least…
at night they swirl and combine into a most ominous mix of terror and confusion… leaving me exhausted as I wake to sort through for truth amongst it all…a blurred line it becomes between sleep and wakeful states…

…the mission

I strain to hear the gentleness of the raindrops on the leaves of the trees

Stretch to breathe in the fragrant air of the approaching storm

Eyes alert to see the vivid streaks light up the sky before me

I wait…for some movement…some feeling…some stirring no matter how faint… Some reaction to the external…

I’m on a mission…a mission to feel…to know without question I am a part of the world that surrounds me

A mission to make my way out of the thickness…the heaviness that is cement…forbidding me to move… To respond outside of these tears

…sidelined

Sometimes I feel as though I am living life sidelined…

I am stuck …benched…knowing in my heart I am capable, intelligent and even fun though I find myself sitting out, opting out, paralyzed and defeated .

I am willing to jump up… To support and to play, to give it my all. I cannot seem to initiate leaving the bench, my stomach in knots, consumed by the weight of a thousand sandbags…

I want to rest… I’m tired…my enthusiasm meter reads zero, my affect flat, motivation evasive…as though I myself am not enough to rescue.

My mind is muddled and foggy, scanning like the fm tuner for something that will boost me… Wake me… usher me from the bench on the sidelines where I sit…

…my island

my island ….

I have a little island though its no paradise
No GPS can get me there…. I just find myself there from time to time
It’s not serene or a place to entertain
Even I don’t wish to be there
On this island I am serenaded by the song ‘you’re not enough’

Pieces of my shipwrecked self wash up on the shore…random shattered ness that taunts
Reminders of failure…of fault and of shame
Scattered pieces of my brokenness…

My island is where all I need is Jesus because when I’m on my island Jesus is the only certainty I have…

In my island moments He makes me whole

For now I wait… For my escape from this place
Not knowing the form my rescue will take…

Striving for awareness …the hope not to miss the arrival…the gentle voice that coaxes me back to the mainland

The cloudless blue sky so vivid and the warmth of the sun reminding me of life…brilliant and penetrating as it encourages me to breathe once again within my own skin…

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