I don’t come from a demonstrative family. We’re not cuddles and hugs. We’re respectful distance and assumptions about feelings. I don’t remember hearing “I love you” much growing up. I don’t remember hearing it said between my parents, and I don’t remember hearing it said to us, though I’m sure it was. My parents say it now, and children are scads more appealing as toddlers. … Continue reading Love is a verb.
I know that somewhere in the blogosphere, someone is responding to the prompt “what is the most memorable gift you’ve ever received” with “my children.” My teeth grind just thinking about it. A child is a cooperative effort. They’re also work, which is unlike most presents. Except for puzzles, though you have to be careful when it comes to giving puzzles to people. They might … Continue reading A most memorable gift.
My dad didn’t die on my birthday. I’m glad. It’s selfish, I know, but I didn’t want those two things tied forever in my memory. He wasn’t dead yesterday; I don’t know how things are going to go today. I love swimming. I love being in the water. As I child, I wanted a pool more than anything and I thought my parents were selfish … Continue reading When your parents are dying.
“Maladaptive daydreaming has been the subject of a series of previous studies. Somer and colleagues found that maladaptive daydreaming is characterized by extensive daydreaming that occupies many hours per day, causes significant subjective distress and interferes with function, and is accompanied by extensive comorbidity. It can be differentiated from normal daydreaming with both self‐report measures and a structured interview that incorporates proposed diagnostic criteria for … Continue reading When I maladaptively daydream, I kick ass.