I would like to take a moment to express my gratitude at having been given children who understand and appreciate the undeniable raw emotion of Barbara Streisand's voice as Yentyl. I mean, those of you who can sit through Yentyl and NOT feel like your heart is being yanked from your chest, YOU people are cold and dead inside, but I wasn't expecting it from children under the age of 6.
That when I brought up "Papa, Can You Hear Me" on my iPod in the car, and immediately saw all 3 of them sit still as statues and gaze off into the distance, warmed my very soul. When my youngest, Zach (2 1/2) said "Mom...hers Papa be dead??", I could have stopped the car and thrown my arms around him and cried "Yes Zach, her Papa be dead, doesn't that just KILL you?!?!?????". When Ava (5) and Cole (6) asked me to play it again 5 times in a row, and Ava said "I like it when she says ".....papa......", I could have bawled.
Thank you Lord for children who can "get it" with me.
Welcome to Being Suzanne Mosley
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Friday, June 27, 2008
You Deplete Me
I'd like to talk about a subsector of my Introvertedness: the need to recharge. You may not realize it, but every word that I speak to you, every smile that I bestow upon you, every nod of my head, depletes me of all energy. Human contact weakens me. You, by virtue of your existence on this planet, are my kryptonite.
Think of me as your average cell phone. I do not run forever. I am not the Energizer Bunny. I need frequent recharging. Your cell phone, when it is turned off, can hold it's charge for a good long time. If I am turned off, encountering no humans, I can last a good long time. Your cell phone, when it is turned on, but is neither making nor receiving calls, just existing in the world, can last a fairly long time. If I am turned on to the world, existing in it, but do not have to interact with people, I can last a fairly long time. If your cell phone is turned on, AND is making/receiving calls, your battery is going to be depleted very quickly. So it is with me, if I am turned on, and am having to interact with and BE interacted with, I will become depleted very quickly.
How do I recharge my battery? By being alone. By getting into my bubble. (Most people, when they hear about the Bubble Boy, think "oh, that poor child"...Not me. I think "Damn! Some people have all the luck!") At home, that bubble is usually my bathtub, with a book in hand. My home charger is the one that charges me to the fullest. When I recharge at home, I am rip roarin' 100% ready to go.
I also have travel chargers, but I can't achieve a full charge with them. I have a car charger, that works when I am alone in my car. When I am staying at other people's homes, I can sometimes use my bathtub charger, depending on the circumstances, or I can use my "I'll be on the toilet for awhile" charger. I have an "I'm going out to run an errand" charger. I also have my "My TV show is on now" charger.
When I am turned on, and interacting with certain people that I have spoken about before (Mom, Melissa, Dad, siblings: Eric, Amy, Andrew, my husband, my children) my charge doesn't deplete quite as quickly. It's as if the energy that these people provide to me, gives me so many bars, that my battery doesn't need to work nearly as hard, so it lasts longer. But when I am interacting with the majority of the world, they barely give me one bar, so the battery has to work to it's fullest capacity.
Certain circumstances can make my battery deplete faster...people talking nonsense, sitting through committee meetings (oh sorry, I was just redundant), incompetence, repetition...these things can even cause a power surge if I don't remove myself from the situations in a timely fashion.
Exactly like your cell phone, when preparing for events in my life, I have to consider my battery. I have to think about how much charge I currently have, and how much charge I'm going to need to last through an event. This is why as soon as the door closes on the last guest, I'm halfway up the stairs, throwing my clothes off, and running the hot water.
Every social activity that I contemplate partaking in, I have to consider my battery. This is not a choice I make, it's an instinctive function of my brain. I can't NOT do this.
Another thing to know, is that my battery goes from about 25% capacity to 0% capacity MUCH faster than it goes from 100% to 25%. This is why occasionally you'll see me running to my car from parties. I am almost blindsided by my social interaction wall. I can never see it coming. So I can go from gracious attendee to barely-holding-it-in-crabby-bitch in no time at all. (Funny thing to note, my own personal cell phone is the same way. It will say my battery is charged to 6, the highest it goes, forever...and then all of a sudden it's at 2 and about to die...strange)
So tonight, as you plug your cell phone into it's charger, think a little more kindly of me.
Of course, this analogy isn't helping to plead my case against those who think that I am a machine...
Welcome to Being Suzanne Mosley.
Think of me as your average cell phone. I do not run forever. I am not the Energizer Bunny. I need frequent recharging. Your cell phone, when it is turned off, can hold it's charge for a good long time. If I am turned off, encountering no humans, I can last a good long time. Your cell phone, when it is turned on, but is neither making nor receiving calls, just existing in the world, can last a fairly long time. If I am turned on to the world, existing in it, but do not have to interact with people, I can last a fairly long time. If your cell phone is turned on, AND is making/receiving calls, your battery is going to be depleted very quickly. So it is with me, if I am turned on, and am having to interact with and BE interacted with, I will become depleted very quickly.
How do I recharge my battery? By being alone. By getting into my bubble. (Most people, when they hear about the Bubble Boy, think "oh, that poor child"...Not me. I think "Damn! Some people have all the luck!") At home, that bubble is usually my bathtub, with a book in hand. My home charger is the one that charges me to the fullest. When I recharge at home, I am rip roarin' 100% ready to go.
I also have travel chargers, but I can't achieve a full charge with them. I have a car charger, that works when I am alone in my car. When I am staying at other people's homes, I can sometimes use my bathtub charger, depending on the circumstances, or I can use my "I'll be on the toilet for awhile" charger. I have an "I'm going out to run an errand" charger. I also have my "My TV show is on now" charger.
When I am turned on, and interacting with certain people that I have spoken about before (Mom, Melissa, Dad, siblings: Eric, Amy, Andrew, my husband, my children) my charge doesn't deplete quite as quickly. It's as if the energy that these people provide to me, gives me so many bars, that my battery doesn't need to work nearly as hard, so it lasts longer. But when I am interacting with the majority of the world, they barely give me one bar, so the battery has to work to it's fullest capacity.
Certain circumstances can make my battery deplete faster...people talking nonsense, sitting through committee meetings (oh sorry, I was just redundant), incompetence, repetition...these things can even cause a power surge if I don't remove myself from the situations in a timely fashion.
Exactly like your cell phone, when preparing for events in my life, I have to consider my battery. I have to think about how much charge I currently have, and how much charge I'm going to need to last through an event. This is why as soon as the door closes on the last guest, I'm halfway up the stairs, throwing my clothes off, and running the hot water.
Every social activity that I contemplate partaking in, I have to consider my battery. This is not a choice I make, it's an instinctive function of my brain. I can't NOT do this.
Another thing to know, is that my battery goes from about 25% capacity to 0% capacity MUCH faster than it goes from 100% to 25%. This is why occasionally you'll see me running to my car from parties. I am almost blindsided by my social interaction wall. I can never see it coming. So I can go from gracious attendee to barely-holding-it-in-crabby-bitch in no time at all. (Funny thing to note, my own personal cell phone is the same way. It will say my battery is charged to 6, the highest it goes, forever...and then all of a sudden it's at 2 and about to die...strange)
So tonight, as you plug your cell phone into it's charger, think a little more kindly of me.
Of course, this analogy isn't helping to plead my case against those who think that I am a machine...
Welcome to Being Suzanne Mosley.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
I Think About You, Therefore You Exist
To continue my last topic, I need to clarify that my brain only goes through that extensive process with people who "matter" to me. The Timing Mistress, the Psychiatrists, the Cerebral Players do not waste any energy on the general public.
In my mind, "thought" equals "love". If I'm thinking about you, you matter to me, and the reverse. I spend SO MUCH brain power on the people who I consider to be in my circle, that when I encounter someone outside of that circle, I have nothing left for them. This is one of the many reasons that people think I am cold and dead inside. I can truly say that I do not consider the random people that I come across in a day. That probably sounds horrible, but it is very true. I am not out to hurt them, and I do try to exercise good manners in dealing with them, but I have no capability of considering them for even a second.
But this does NOT mean that I am cold and dead inside. It just means that my insides only have room to care for a certain number of people, because when I care about you, I care so much that it depletes my resources.
I even take this to the extreme of thinking that if you are capable of spreading your care evenly across the population, you must not really care about anyone in particular. If you treat everyone so well, how am I supposed to feel special to you? If you are someone who matters to me, you can feel special because I have had to eliminate thousands and thousands of people in order to care about you. The way that I treat you and think about you is so very different from the way I treat and think about the general public.
Strange?
Welcome to Being Suzanne Mosley
In my mind, "thought" equals "love". If I'm thinking about you, you matter to me, and the reverse. I spend SO MUCH brain power on the people who I consider to be in my circle, that when I encounter someone outside of that circle, I have nothing left for them. This is one of the many reasons that people think I am cold and dead inside. I can truly say that I do not consider the random people that I come across in a day. That probably sounds horrible, but it is very true. I am not out to hurt them, and I do try to exercise good manners in dealing with them, but I have no capability of considering them for even a second.
But this does NOT mean that I am cold and dead inside. It just means that my insides only have room to care for a certain number of people, because when I care about you, I care so much that it depletes my resources.
I even take this to the extreme of thinking that if you are capable of spreading your care evenly across the population, you must not really care about anyone in particular. If you treat everyone so well, how am I supposed to feel special to you? If you are someone who matters to me, you can feel special because I have had to eliminate thousands and thousands of people in order to care about you. The way that I treat you and think about you is so very different from the way I treat and think about the general public.
Strange?
Welcome to Being Suzanne Mosley
Monday, June 16, 2008
Think Before You Speak
I'm going to start with something that I've been thinking about a lot recently. I find that it is hard to explain to a majority of people what goes on in my head prior to words coming out of my mouth. So I have come up with a little (and by "little" I mean extremely long-winded and convoluted) analogy to describe the phenomenon. When my brain produces a thought, there is an exhaustive process that the thought must go through before it reaches my mouth.
My brain is your typical corporate office. This office is staffed with hundreds of little people, I imagine them as Oompa-Loompas. These little people have various positions within this corporation. Some are upper level management, some are little worker bees. Let me introduce you to some of these people in this corporation.
First, there are the Flying Filers. They are located in the Filing Room, which is the largest room of this building. The room is filled floor to ceiling with filing cabinets containing myriad amounts of information that I've gathered in my 34 years of life. Each drawer is endless once you pull it out. I imagine these workers as having wings, hence their name, which allow them to reach any drawer in this room, and their wings produce a slight buzzing sound. These Filers know where every piece of information is located, and can find it in 1/2 a second flat. They are also very good at labeling new information, and knowing which and how many files to put the information into. (There is a subsector of these Fliers that are the "Information Changers and Updaters". They are the ones who pull out old information and update it with new knowledge, or move it to a different folder altogether.) These workers are on duty 24/7/365, and are tireless, which is why my head is always filled with a slight buzzing sound that I can never quite get rid of.
So when a thought is produced, these Fliers pull the appropriate folders, that contain any and all information pertinent to the thought that my brain has flashed across the Big Screen.
Then there is the Research Room. This room is staffed by The Nerds, 4 guys with very thick glasses. The room itself is the most extensive library you've ever seen, with internet ready computers on desks, and a bank of telephones. These guys take the folders that the Flying Fliers bring to them, and compare it to the thought that is flashing on the Big Screen. They then get to work researching the materials in the folders, making sure that information is current and accurate, to the best of their knowledge. They read, scour the web, and make phone calls, as The Nerds are perfectionists, and will not rest until they feel they have done all they can do. The Nerds are known for being EXTREMELY fast. The folders don't linger long in this room. The Nerds then compile all of their research into the folder, and pass it along to The Judge.
Let's meet The Judge...This guy is known for being a HARD ASS. His job is to read through the folder, and make a decision on whether the information is good enough for the thought to continue on it's slow journey towards the mouth. He has 2 giant stampers, one that says CARRY ON, and one that says REJECTED. For a folder to get the precious CARRY ON stamp, the information must be so accurate and so organized, that it is virtually bulletproof. When he stamps a folder REJECTED, it goes back to The Nerds. The Judge is not a real caring type, so he doesn't let The Nerds know why a folder was rejected, it's up to The Nerds to figure that out. Which suits them just fine, as that's what gets them off anyway...
Once a folder has passed muster with The Judge, it moves on to the biggest bitch of all, the Timing Mistress. She is a Nazi. She is in charge of one of the largest staff in this company. It is her job to give each folder a "time" in which the mouth may speak the thought contained within. Folders usually spend a majority of their time in this room. In fact, this room has been known to be a blackhole for a large number of folders. So much goes into the process of giving a folder a "time", that I can't even describe it in it's entirety. But let me give you a taste.
There is a group of Psychaitrists under the Timing Mistress, who are responsible for gauging the emotional temperature of the person who the thought is going to be spoken to (hereafter, the "receiver"). They note facial expressions, analyze speech patterns, and discuss all of the factors that will affect the receiver's reaction to the thought. Once they have done that, they notate on the folder all of the suspected reactions of the receiver to the thought contained within. Now, the Timing Mistress likes to hire very cautious and negative Pyschaitrists, as she subconsciously has a vendetta against me. She would prefer that each and every thought in my brain died an unspoken death.
There is another group under the Timing Mistress, known as the Calender Committee, whose primary function is to look at the receiver's schedule for the next year. Their job is to determine, based on what the receiver has "coming up", when the optimal time would be for the receiver to hear the thought.
Those are just 2 of the countless groups under the Timing Mistress. Once each group has reviewed the material, they all come together with their recommendations. All groups must agree on the timing, so this is why folders can languish here...At this meeting, a contract group is called in, called the Opportunity Seizers. Their job is to listen to all of the recommendations from each group, and jump in if they see an opportunity for the speaker to create a better timing moment. Because the folders linger so long here, circumstances are constantly changing, and timing has to be revised. For example, that folder that was about to get timestamped with "after the receiver's employee review" now has to be rediscussed, because the employee review went badly.
While a folder is in the Timing Mistress' group, there are 2 other groups who have a 2nd copy of the folder. One of the groups is the Drama group, whose members like to call themselves The Cerebral Players. I love these guys. They are a group of wanna-be actors who take the information in the folder, and improv how the thought is going to be spoken and received. It's like an episode of Whose Line Is It Anyway...They pull emotions out of a hat.."Ok, this time the receiver will be angry! Go!"..."This time, the discussion happens in a restaurant! Go!"..."This time, the speaker and the receiver will have just had sex! Go!". You get the picture. Every possible scenario is rehearsed, so that the speaker will never be taken off guard.
The second group with the 2nd copy of the folder isn't actually a group. It's one man. This man, with the James Earl Jones-esque voice, is a very famous public speaker. I can't even tell you his name, for fear you'll all be trying to lobotomize me to get his autograph. This man practices the portions of the folder which are the speaker's own opinions. His goal is to write an opinion that is beyond fault, and which will be accepted by the receiver simply on the basis of the elegance and stature of it's speech. With his red pencil, he edits grammar, and finds better words, and makes intonation markings...when he is finished, it should be a work of mellifulous poetry, sure to melt even the hardest of hearts. He then rehearses it over and over, until it is almost memorized.
Checking back with the Timing Mistress, the folder has finally been given a time that it is allowed to be spoken. Hopefully by this time the folder has been through the Drama group and the unnamed public speaker, and has been rehearsed enough to speak. The folder is then sent along to the Mouth.
Throw in a speech impediment, and you now understand what I mean when I say it's a wonder any words ever come out of my mouth.
Now, for those of you who are sitting there crying your heart out for me, let me say this. The coporation doesn't run at full capacity all of the time. When I am talking to my mother or best friend Melissa, some of these workers take a break. The bitchy Timing Mistress goes for a manicure, the Psychaitrists go to a Jungian retreat, the Public Speaker rests his vocal cords with tea and honey, The Cerebral Players go do local community theater, and The Judge goes to a strip club. The Nerds clock out, but still stay in the Research Room and work because, well, they're Nerds...
So don't cry for me, Argentina. I do get little breaks. Now maybe my poor husband understands why I can spend 3 hours on the phone with Melissa or my Mom. Part of the reason why these workers can take time off then is Comfortability. I have such a long history with Mom and Melissa, that there's not much for those workers to do. But with my husband, he's still new to them...so hopefully as the years go by, they can start taking longer breaks when I'm talking to him. He says that when I talk to him about something important, my responses sound rehearsed, like I'm reading a script.....
Welcome to Being Suzanne Mosley
My brain is your typical corporate office. This office is staffed with hundreds of little people, I imagine them as Oompa-Loompas. These little people have various positions within this corporation. Some are upper level management, some are little worker bees. Let me introduce you to some of these people in this corporation.
First, there are the Flying Filers. They are located in the Filing Room, which is the largest room of this building. The room is filled floor to ceiling with filing cabinets containing myriad amounts of information that I've gathered in my 34 years of life. Each drawer is endless once you pull it out. I imagine these workers as having wings, hence their name, which allow them to reach any drawer in this room, and their wings produce a slight buzzing sound. These Filers know where every piece of information is located, and can find it in 1/2 a second flat. They are also very good at labeling new information, and knowing which and how many files to put the information into. (There is a subsector of these Fliers that are the "Information Changers and Updaters". They are the ones who pull out old information and update it with new knowledge, or move it to a different folder altogether.) These workers are on duty 24/7/365, and are tireless, which is why my head is always filled with a slight buzzing sound that I can never quite get rid of.
So when a thought is produced, these Fliers pull the appropriate folders, that contain any and all information pertinent to the thought that my brain has flashed across the Big Screen.
Then there is the Research Room. This room is staffed by The Nerds, 4 guys with very thick glasses. The room itself is the most extensive library you've ever seen, with internet ready computers on desks, and a bank of telephones. These guys take the folders that the Flying Fliers bring to them, and compare it to the thought that is flashing on the Big Screen. They then get to work researching the materials in the folders, making sure that information is current and accurate, to the best of their knowledge. They read, scour the web, and make phone calls, as The Nerds are perfectionists, and will not rest until they feel they have done all they can do. The Nerds are known for being EXTREMELY fast. The folders don't linger long in this room. The Nerds then compile all of their research into the folder, and pass it along to The Judge.
Let's meet The Judge...This guy is known for being a HARD ASS. His job is to read through the folder, and make a decision on whether the information is good enough for the thought to continue on it's slow journey towards the mouth. He has 2 giant stampers, one that says CARRY ON, and one that says REJECTED. For a folder to get the precious CARRY ON stamp, the information must be so accurate and so organized, that it is virtually bulletproof. When he stamps a folder REJECTED, it goes back to The Nerds. The Judge is not a real caring type, so he doesn't let The Nerds know why a folder was rejected, it's up to The Nerds to figure that out. Which suits them just fine, as that's what gets them off anyway...
Once a folder has passed muster with The Judge, it moves on to the biggest bitch of all, the Timing Mistress. She is a Nazi. She is in charge of one of the largest staff in this company. It is her job to give each folder a "time" in which the mouth may speak the thought contained within. Folders usually spend a majority of their time in this room. In fact, this room has been known to be a blackhole for a large number of folders. So much goes into the process of giving a folder a "time", that I can't even describe it in it's entirety. But let me give you a taste.
There is a group of Psychaitrists under the Timing Mistress, who are responsible for gauging the emotional temperature of the person who the thought is going to be spoken to (hereafter, the "receiver"). They note facial expressions, analyze speech patterns, and discuss all of the factors that will affect the receiver's reaction to the thought. Once they have done that, they notate on the folder all of the suspected reactions of the receiver to the thought contained within. Now, the Timing Mistress likes to hire very cautious and negative Pyschaitrists, as she subconsciously has a vendetta against me. She would prefer that each and every thought in my brain died an unspoken death.
There is another group under the Timing Mistress, known as the Calender Committee, whose primary function is to look at the receiver's schedule for the next year. Their job is to determine, based on what the receiver has "coming up", when the optimal time would be for the receiver to hear the thought.
Those are just 2 of the countless groups under the Timing Mistress. Once each group has reviewed the material, they all come together with their recommendations. All groups must agree on the timing, so this is why folders can languish here...At this meeting, a contract group is called in, called the Opportunity Seizers. Their job is to listen to all of the recommendations from each group, and jump in if they see an opportunity for the speaker to create a better timing moment. Because the folders linger so long here, circumstances are constantly changing, and timing has to be revised. For example, that folder that was about to get timestamped with "after the receiver's employee review" now has to be rediscussed, because the employee review went badly.
While a folder is in the Timing Mistress' group, there are 2 other groups who have a 2nd copy of the folder. One of the groups is the Drama group, whose members like to call themselves The Cerebral Players. I love these guys. They are a group of wanna-be actors who take the information in the folder, and improv how the thought is going to be spoken and received. It's like an episode of Whose Line Is It Anyway...They pull emotions out of a hat.."Ok, this time the receiver will be angry! Go!"..."This time, the discussion happens in a restaurant! Go!"..."This time, the speaker and the receiver will have just had sex! Go!". You get the picture. Every possible scenario is rehearsed, so that the speaker will never be taken off guard.
The second group with the 2nd copy of the folder isn't actually a group. It's one man. This man, with the James Earl Jones-esque voice, is a very famous public speaker. I can't even tell you his name, for fear you'll all be trying to lobotomize me to get his autograph. This man practices the portions of the folder which are the speaker's own opinions. His goal is to write an opinion that is beyond fault, and which will be accepted by the receiver simply on the basis of the elegance and stature of it's speech. With his red pencil, he edits grammar, and finds better words, and makes intonation markings...when he is finished, it should be a work of mellifulous poetry, sure to melt even the hardest of hearts. He then rehearses it over and over, until it is almost memorized.
Checking back with the Timing Mistress, the folder has finally been given a time that it is allowed to be spoken. Hopefully by this time the folder has been through the Drama group and the unnamed public speaker, and has been rehearsed enough to speak. The folder is then sent along to the Mouth.
Throw in a speech impediment, and you now understand what I mean when I say it's a wonder any words ever come out of my mouth.
Now, for those of you who are sitting there crying your heart out for me, let me say this. The coporation doesn't run at full capacity all of the time. When I am talking to my mother or best friend Melissa, some of these workers take a break. The bitchy Timing Mistress goes for a manicure, the Psychaitrists go to a Jungian retreat, the Public Speaker rests his vocal cords with tea and honey, The Cerebral Players go do local community theater, and The Judge goes to a strip club. The Nerds clock out, but still stay in the Research Room and work because, well, they're Nerds...
So don't cry for me, Argentina. I do get little breaks. Now maybe my poor husband understands why I can spend 3 hours on the phone with Melissa or my Mom. Part of the reason why these workers can take time off then is Comfortability. I have such a long history with Mom and Melissa, that there's not much for those workers to do. But with my husband, he's still new to them...so hopefully as the years go by, they can start taking longer breaks when I'm talking to him. He says that when I talk to him about something important, my responses sound rehearsed, like I'm reading a script.....
Welcome to Being Suzanne Mosley
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