Rawr! Damn these immature feelings! I'm better than this!

Why do certain people or certain situations spark very specific emotions?

For instance: jealousy.

I've battled with jealousy growing up because I had a big sister who was doted on constantly by our mother. She was encouraged throughout her life to be ambitious, to study hard and take pride in your life, your things, and your appearance. My mom complimented her on her talent and beauty regularly. My big sister reveled in gymnastics til she was 13 and moved on to cheerleading. With her honor roll grades, and her 21 year old boyfriend, she was the epitome of perfect.

If she were to read all that, she'd say, "Becky, you stole my clothes and ruined them! All. The. Time. You wormed your way into my slumber parties and annoyed us all! You cried about everything to get your way!"

I suppose you have to have both sides to be objective. That's me. Being objective.

*sly grin*

I stole her clothes for 1 simple reason: hers were better.

My parents put a lock on her door and gave her the only key. I still found a way.

My mom got me some cute my little pony hand me down undies from her friend's daughter. (that's gotta work, right?) I still (of fucking course) stole her clothes.

My sister went away to college. Anything she left behind, purpose or not, was mine. From 1995 til I moved out of the house, her things became mine.

Unfortunately, so did her responsibilities.

{I'll skip the tangent I was about to go on}

Back to jealousy: it was easy to be a little girl and jealous of your older sister who was better in every way. Can anyone from my family blame me?

I was frequently told to shut up by my sister and older brothers when I cried. I was told, "If you're gonna do that [crying], go up to your room and do it there" by my dad. Mom claims we had nothing in common, that's why she didn't do as many things with me, she says I gave up. I think it's because my mom and I had too much in common, so it was harder for us to get along and our patience decreased with time.

I had imaginary friends and students (yeah, i played pretend teacher) that would listen when I needed it. I whispered to them frequently because I felt hated for having strong emotions that resulted in tears.

And here was my big sister. Strong as a rock. She held her head up everywhere and if she ever felt vulnerable, you couldn't tell.

Seriously, can you really blame me for jealous feelings?

I dislike feelings of jealousy because they remind me of when I was 10.

This morning, I felt jealous. I found out that someone I'm trying to befriend has been "sleeping with the enemy" so to speak. Not literally, of course, and not an enemy. It's difficult to explain whilst keeping privacy so I'll just say the feelings were unwarranted, and yet, I felt them anyway.

Then the feelings of resentment came and I quickly found myself wishing something bad would happen. The consciousness of those feelings made me angry. I don't want to have qualities like that. I don't want to be one of those immature people who slash their ex's tires or prank call their enemies.

What do I do, then?

What do I do in this situation with .....*sigh* privacy

Why am I disliked for my sensitivity?

I already answered that one: it's cause the squeaky wheel gets the grease.

I want help. I want advice. I want my parents.

Unfortunately, my parents only respond to what they want to respond to and one of them doesn't keep secrets well. My dad is a wordsmith. Yeah, that's a new word for me, but it makes sense. You need to watch what words you use around and to him because he hears every word. Since my feelings are strong and I frequently stick my foot in my mouth, I get caught in Dad's headlights a lot. He usually repeats whatever I said in passing, in his incredulous voice. He then adds his disapproving eyebrow wrinkle and slight head shake for extra emphasis on your failures. He also speaks and writes a thousand times better than me.

Dad's not the one I can confide in. I'm all grown up and any feelings of immaturity are met with immediate disappointment. In fact, my entire life, with the exception of my husband and kids, feel like a disappointment to him. He would shake his head and wrinkle his brow if he read this, too.

Mom tells everything to my sister. I already feel like a failure in my sister's eyes. And anyone else to whom she speaks.

This post is becoming more and more like a journal entry. Ah well. You came and read this far, right?

Jealousy and resentment. How does one deal? Comment. Message. Ponder. Tweet. Whatevs.

lufbecky

Gets darker with sadness

When I was in high school, my art teacher, Mrs. Higgins, pulled me aside one afternoon. She asked me if I was ok. At which point, I burst into tears. I'm not even sure what was going on in my life at that time, I just know I was a depressed and angry teenager. After confiding in her and she telling me the normal "we were all there once" speech, I had know, how did she know anything was wrong?

Art was my favorite subject, obviously, and it made me so grateful and relaxed when I walked into that blissful art room. The moldy smell of clay soaked rags, old brushes, the bite of newly opened paints that, for just a split second, made you feel life a fresh start was about to begin. All of it! The lameness of the construction paper to the stink of slip pot: I loved it all! The art room was where I smiled.

I get goosbumps just thinking about it. Smiling there for a moment writing, but it's fading....

Therein lies my point:

Mrs. Higgins noticed something was wrong because my painting suddenly got darker.

Right now, as I battle with strong depressive feelings, I wonder if my writing shows it getting darker.

Boy, do I miss that art room and I've give anything to be sitting back in that stupid stinky little disarray of creativity.

It made me satisfied. Not exactly happy, per se, but satisfied.

Where did that feeling go? Despite my mother in law's tremendous drive for cleanliness satisfaction, I get nothing. Nothing at all. That's why it's so hard to understand my point of view. I'm nothing like that. There's no satisfaction in cleaning. It's just going to end up messy again.

Sigh.

I feel like I'm speaking like Eeyore.....

Alright. Well. I guess I'll go then...

Ramblings of a logically creative intellect

Kids are in school and I have some time which should rightfully be spent cleaning (since I lapsed on the floors this weekend) but alas, my spirit is explosive with colors (yes, today, it's colors)! It's good I have a little baby cause no one understands glitter quite like a kid. Glitter is never bad. Even 5 years later when you still occasionally find it on your eyelid, it's never bad, just means you need to get out your crafts 

wink emoticon

On that note, I must revel in my awesome for a min: I cleaned and organized 3 of my 5 boxes of fabric! This, my lovely friends, is amazeballs. It's truly a huge leap in becky-kind. My mom is the Queen of Organization so I have the skill, just need to tap into it more often. AND I fully expect to finish the other 2 boxes before the weekend.

Pretty sure I wanted to mention something but this is way better. Ramblings of a logically creative intellect, heehee.

Hey, I read somewhere recently that a Nigerian student studying in Japan solved a 30 year math equation in his first semester.

"Stubborness is just being loyal to your convictions"

                                                  -Becky Lynn Greene

That's mine. My quote. You like? I'd like to add that I'm very loyal.

And lastly, this is a picture of me and my little brother when we were little. Mom sewed a lot of our clothes....

The hills have eyes....and so do the sidewalks, the houses, the floors, the cars, hell even the people have 'em!

I used someone else's meme so apologies for the beginner look, mine would be a step below this anyway.

The theme for today is eyes.

A wise man once told me that "no one cares". People live and die on this crazy earth all the time. It's tragic sometimes, and other times, it's mercy. The point is, everyone has their own life to live and generally speaking they don't really care about yours.

Well, this is not exactly true. Not only do people care, but they watch and study, even if they don't care. Some people like soap operas. That's nice and all but when the soaps start to bore them, they move on to their friends and family. Maybe pick up a little dirt on someone here, spread a little dirt on someone there. Then stir the pot a bit, and add some more people. Next thing you know, you have a great big 'ole stewing pot full of everyone else's bullshit. As long as you're the one doing the stirring, it's totally fine. Soon as someone else decides to add a bit of their own dirt and take over the stirring, shit hits the fan. Thing is, the shit has been hitting the fan every since that first person slung it!

Sometimes I feel like Mike is my only ally. What's safe to confide in people? So many things have come back to bite me in the ass. When I'm sad, when I'm feeling weak and need help, who do I call that won't throw it in my face later on down the line?

There's eyes and ears everywhere and yet I've never felt so alone.

Author Becky Lynn Greene -exclamation point-

Yes, it's true. I'm thinking about writing a book. Funny cause upon researching "how to write a novel", one of the first things stated was "Suppress the need to share it". Does that mean, "don't tell anyone your writing a book"? Or does it mean, "don't let anyone read your book [in the beginning anyway]"? Both, maybe?

Ah, well, I won't say anything more on the subject. My stepsister wrote and published (herself) a book of poetry and my stepbrother is working on a comic book. He's not to bad at sci-fi writing himself. Perhaps I'll get some tips from him.

Just wanted to put that out there just in case I lapse a bit on this. Don't worry, though, you'll always receive my words of wisdom, just might not be as frequently as I'd like.

Evelyn McHale and her Most Beautiful Suicide

I know there isn't anything 'beautiful' about suicide, but what else would you call this iconic photo?

Captivating, isn't it? Morbid, yet fascinating that this beautiful woman would jump off the top of the Empire State Building. It was way back in 1947, when the economy was just getting up to par after the Great Depression. So much of New York hadn't even been built yet.

New York in 1932 - notice how the streets are evident at this angle?

When I stumbled upon Evelyn's image in the fall of last year I was immediately drawn to her. She looked familiar to me, like she was someone I had known. Upon some google searches I found some minor details about why this woman would jump to her death but I still found myself obsessively wondering more.

[When I become interested in something, I tend to take it to the extreme.]

As the winter approached and my vitamin D supplements increased to no avail, I grew more and more depressed. My husband was off work for the winter so we had very little income even with his ebay selling on the side. I'm grateful he was home most days because I could usually stay in bed and shut out the world. I slept as much as I could and drowned my emotions with television shows and movies. Each day, I grew more sad than the last and even contemplated suicide when I hit rock bottom. 

So often I turned my attention to Evelyn and her story. I wanted to save her. I wanted to jump with her. I wanted to talk to her and tell her things would be ok even though I didn't know myself. It was a bit obsessive, I admit, but it helped me through. 

In my obsessions I found out that a student named Lauren Anne Rice was researching and writing a book about Evelyn. Immediately I was intrigued and actually wanted to help write the book!

Instead, I wrote a comment thanking her for helping me through this past winter. Later, I sent a more detailed personal message to her directly and even received a reply that was touching, kind, and thankful. I was so scared of creeping her out in my message [by talking about my obsession with Evelyn] so I was  grateful she received it well and even offered some insight and reminded me not to use labels.

Being beautiful doesn't mean being happy which is why her image perplexed so many. Obviously I wasn't the only one intrigued by her morbid beauty:

Andy Warhol resurrected her image in a print he did titled, Fallen Body. In 1962, Evelyn was once again brought to light.

Since then, she's been a focal point of many art projects everywhere.

I'm really anticipating Ms Rice's book! I'm pretty sure it's not only going to give us a delve into Evelyn's life but also inform us about depression with regards to today's society [versus the post Depression of society that Evelyn ensued]. I imagine so many were angry that this beautiful woman, when life was so precious, would throw it all away with a single leap. It probably angered people that she then received attention for her "selfish act" of suicide.

It was that last thought that gave me a sense into the minds of the healthy non depressed people of the world. I suddenly understood why people got so angry.

From my standpoint (and so many that end up in that dark place), suicide was the solution for the ultimate hatred of yourself. That was what you do when there is no hope at all. It's doing your loved ones a favor by ripping of the band-aid in their life.

That's the way some think when they're at the end. The "selfish" part is the tunnel thinking that goes on. Suicidal people can't hear words of comfort very well, some not at all. They have this idea and when nothing can break through to save them, they jump.

Quite frankly, it's a place we've been to before, we're sick of it and we've already heard everything. That's why we can't take it anymore and it feels like happiness is only going to come in tiny sporadic bursts throughout life. There's not enough to warrant seeing it through for an entire lifetime. In fact, I felt better knowing I could very likely die in a car crash or get cancer. That was basically what I had concluded by the time the spring sunshine came along so I moved on.

It's a morbid way of thinking, I know, but it's a mutually familiar feeling to so many. I even wrote that big ol' slew in a Facebook status after I witnessed a teenage boy pacing atop a building, threatening to jump. The kid was alright but it shook me up and had reignited the above feelings. I wanted to explain to people that this kid wasn't looking to be selfish. He needed help and being angry at him often makes it worse. If he did it to get attention, it's obvious he needed help which requires attention.

I was upset that the crowd below responded in anger and disgust, not sympathy and definitely not empathy. I was angry that people can't see beyond their own opinion. People rarely acknowledge other's lives and feelings, why on earth would they take the time to empathize? Grrrrr *insert some kinda angry face emoticon*.

I had recommended to my cogent thinking friends that they perceive it as a "hallucination if you need logic". A delusion.

So, anyway, join me in anticipating Lauren Anne Rice's book and check in with her Facebook for updates as well.

On a side note, try not to worry about me. I've been exercising (walking), taking lots of vitamin supplements, eating better, and I'm even remembering to take my medicine every morning!

luf

Becky

A Collection of Becky Greene Facebook Statuses:

And now... 

A Collection of Becky Greene Facebook Statuses :

May 14

Hey hey hey! Guess what time it is?!!

Time to Love Becky Hour! For the next hour everyone can take a moment (or several) to think of me, Becky. I'm an animal person, huge Madonna fan, have tiny lips, scrumptiously curvy hips and i never fail to make ya smile. I love to be the center of attention but I'm introverted as hell. I genuinely care and worry about every single person on the planet.Sometimes I feel like a nut. Sometimes I...

May 20

And now for a more serious note: I just witnessed a kid pacing on top of a building threatening to jump.

He's with the proper authorities now and God willing, getting the help he needs.

This isn't meant for arguments, its simply a view from a perspective: my best translation from mental illness to non metal illness.

People at the end don't see clearly. They're not trying to be selfish when they make those threats. Most of the time they fully believe that they're doing everyone they love a favor by....leaving this world. They know they cause worry, sadness, stress, etc so they believe an end to their life would be just ripping off a bandaid in yours. When you tell them they're loved, they can't hear it, not like you want them to. When you say it'll get better, they know its not. Call it hallucinations if you need logic, just proceed with caution. Watch what words you use and hug that person off the ledge. And then afterwards, don't forget, cause their troubles aren't over. To them, they're never over. Please don't respond with anger. Be empathetic.

Still a little shaken up so maybe someone could pm me if they know the kid. Authorities only do so much; community, friends and family does more IMO

May 21 (the day of the "Incident"

geesh, having a rough week. I need to work on how I handle confrontation. Really wish the world didn't like fighting so much. I'd rather just play on the floor, maybe read a good book.

June 2

Happy Tuesday (I originally typed Monday- boy I would've looked dumb herrderr), Late-Checking-Facebook-So-I'll-Do-It-After-Work/School People, I bring to you tidings of Becky. With a side order of Becky. Topped with Becky. Sprinkled with Becky. Lotta-love-on-the-side-Becky. And just for good measure, Becky all in a bundle. Yes. Vomiting love every which way, hope ya get some on ya!

June 12

I just found out that someone actually has a severe hatred for me simply because I'm sensitive. Wow, the world really gets darker, doesn't it? It's actually a few people and I'm related to them! You know how you're supposed to reach out when you're at the end? Well, don't. At least don't reach out to the wrong person/people because they'll actually push you instead of holding you. It's honestly one of the scariest things I've ever had to deal with

June 15

You know the term, "must be nice..."? It's used too much and it's rude. I mentioned before that no one knows what any one person is truly feeling except themselves. Don't pretend to know what someone else is going through, even if you have the same tragedies, the same parents, or even the same kind of dog, you still do not know what that person is feeling.

I read some things regarding report cards up here. There's too many politics involved for me (or anyone) to place blame in any one area, so why am I reading titles like, "Parents need to step up and give educators a failing grade" Uhm. Wtf? I read it and it elaborated a little more objectively. A little. The article still stated that "it must be nice" for teachers to get all that time off, and get great tax breaks, and so on.

Must be nice for the parents to f off somewhere while our kids are watched, disciplined, and taught for 6 hours every day. Must be nice getting those really awesome homemade Mothers and Fathers Day cards that they make at the "giant babysitting facility". Must be nice to see them fed and get regular excersise every day. Must be nice hearing about the interesting field trip or the cool science experiment.

Must be nice. One adult: 30 kids: 35-50 hours a week. Maybe it's just me, but I don't think I could do that and kudos to the ones that do. Here, take my taxpayer money! Is there anything else that should really take priority over our kids's future? Well I think they should be paid like doctors cause they're saving their lives before they need saving.

...Maybe I'm just a big ignorant turd but hey, isn't that what we all are?

Then on June 16 a friend posted my old website that I started in 1997. I wrote the whole website out in entirely html because I wanted my own website and I wanted it unique and without templates

......ok ok truth is, I didn't know there was templates and when I did, it was too confusing to switch so I just kept adding to the code stuff that I knew. I even bought a book to teach me some of the basic tags used. I wanted to go bigger so I got a book to teach me Visual Interdev which is a program that uses ASP (active server script) which works like Java

Anyhoo, here ya go : Becky's Not Too Shabby Website

June 23

Art comes in many forms to this chickadee and I think I need it all to express me and my multitude of "personalities". I think that's why I've always been drawn to rainbows; they're too colorful to make up their minds.

Yesterday I crafted. Today I write. Tomorrow I'll paint.

Working on my writing skills with my blog lately. Basically my digital voice. You know how some people yell to get their point across? Well, I write. That's my voice and I'm not too bad at it. That's why I say "working" on it; my writing is still pretty raw. And worse: I can't take (even constructive) criticism well.

lufluf

July 9

I gots all kinds of stuffs in my mind! Why does it relentlessly ask me this? Every. Single. Time.

My brain is like a snowstorm; every little flake is different and there's so darn much of it! (Were you expecting something more philosophical or poetic maybe?)

Ehem.

I mean the overwhelming nature of my incessantly changing thoughts can get pretty disorienting, much like a snowstorm. And my rabid thoughts (yes I'm going with rabid) bury bigger things like cars, houses, and people.

Sometimes I get really self absorbed with my own worries that I miss some things that are literally right in front of me and it makes me look mean and selfish. I know a lot of people who are shy but it can be perceived to strangers as them being jerk face nuggets. They're not.

I believe that the world is basically good. Most people don't intend to be jerks. I have to believe that. (I'm a soft pink bunny under a rainbow and fluffy clouds) Some people might be having a hard day. Some people are just shy. Some people are just concerned with their own busy lives. If you ever asked them if they care, they'll tell you, "yes, of course".

My mind won't sit still today. Not even sure made a point. But here we go; for everyone to see wink emoticon