how can a person with low self esteem learn to love themself when they don’t even know what love is. maybe they need to be introduced to love, through you. so maybe instead of looking down on them from your pedestal of great self-value you can meet them eye to eye and show compassion and genuine concern for their struggles. maybe instead of patronizing them and preaching to them about their depreciated self-image, you can help them repair that image. and not their physical appearance, but the deceptive self-perception that has stripped them of deserved appreciation for who they are. you can help reconstruct their eyes to see their beauty, their minds to realize their worth. you cannot make someone love themself nor can you fill an internal void caused by their own insecurities through external means. but you can assist them. you can show them what love is. and no it’s not your job to take upon this burden. and it’s not your obligation to play this role in a person’s life. but neither is it your job to make them feel even more horrible because of how they perceive themselves. nor is it your obligation to speak shame on them because they weren’t fortunate enough to obtain the confidence you did. so if you really want someone to love themselves and you’re not just speaking out your ass, you can set aside your arrogance and judgmental assessments and treat them as they deserve to be treated; like a person. even if they feel unworthy, you can do for them what they cannot do for themselves, you can respect them. and if you so eagerly insist them to love themselves you can do what they or any one else in their life has seemingly failed to do, you can introduce to them love.
For the people who insist on blogging about what losers those of us with low self esteem are. Trust us, we already know.
I’m lucky, we got internet when I was in middle school. I have no idea how people did schoolwork before internet. I mean, how did you procrastinate writing papers until the night before with no 24 hour google available? It’s a mystery to me.
Let’s just say that we got really good at BS-ing our way through. Fortunately, teachers didn’t have the internet either. =)
WHY ARE YOU SUCH A QUALITY TUMBLR BLOGGER? (Also I hope your eye gets better, I forgot to say that earlier. D: )
Because I have no life? Kidding, of course (sort of).
Thank you, Dee! I have a feeling you’re talking about the Carousel of Progress and Disneyland Railroad posts I just put on the Disney Files blog…I just have a borderline unhealthy obsession with the Disney parks (more Disneyland than Walt Disney World, but still both to an extent) and have studied them WAY too much. When I worked at Disneyland, it wasn’t that odd for someone to call me on the radio to meet up with them to answer guest questions that they didn’t know the answer to. In short, I’m a nerd (and I’m OK with that).
I don’t even remember how long ago I read that article about the Morse code being wrong at Disneyland, and it took me a good half hour to find it tonight when I wanted to mention it (it was easy to find mentions of the guy correcting it, but finding his actual article about it was tough).
Honestly, after a lot of my posts I have quite a few tabs to close (I think I was up to 19 tabs open at one point while I wrote the CoP reply because I didn’t want to get my facts wrong). It’s just a subject that is very close to my heart, and I love spreading the knowledge around.
Would you believe I was mostly a C student? Researching Disney, which I really enjoy, is a heck of a lot more fun than researching something I just can’t get into, like the The Franco-Prussian War. Well, it probably didn’t help that we didn’t have the internet back in those days, either (I graduated high school in 1992).
Anyway, thanks for the compliment (and your well-wishes towards my eye)!
Okay, there are two cheap things you can try. Either get some witch hazel or go to an herb store for an herb called eyebright. Brew the herb to make a tea and put it on a compress, or do the same with straight witch hazel. Use several times a day.
It looks like a chalazion. You should use compresses and see if it helps. Hope you feel better.
Thank you, ladies. I’m reading up on chalazions right now, and it appears you’re both right. I’ll give the compresses a try (though I can’t get my hands on witch hazel or eyebright with no money, so regular warm water compresses will have to do).
The part that scares me is reading this part:
If the swelling has lasted more than a few weeks or creates symptoms of mild blurring of the vision, your ophthalmologist may recommend surgery to remove the chalazion.
Forget “weeks,” we’re into “months” territory. And the vision in that eye has indeed been a bit blurry for a while now. I’ll try the compresses, but there’s no way I could afford surgery if those don’t work.
And despite the inheritance that my parents got from my grandma, their response is “it’s too bad you don’t have health insurance so you can get it taken care of.”
On the plus side:
Although tumors of the eyelids do occur, a chalazion is not a tumor and has no malignant potential.
So, you know, at least I have an excuse to go around yelling
I’ve been putting this one off for a bit, but I promised myself I would do it by today. I think I’m just afraid because once it’s out there for everyone to see, it becomes real.
A couple months or so ago, my right eye started hurting. It felt really stingy, and was pretty red. It lasted for about a week.
When the pain went away, I noticed that I suddenly had a lump on my eyelid. It started pretty small. It’s grown since then.
I wish I could afford to see a doctor and see what the hell it is and get rid of it. If I ever get another job interview, I feel like they’re just going to stare at it and think “I don’t want to hire this freak and have to see that all the time” (sure, that may technically be illegal, but all they have to do is not give that as the actual reason I wasn’t hired to get around that).
And, on a lesser note, there may be actual health issues to worry about (“mysterious lump” has several bad connotations that I could think of…and believe me, I certainly have thought about them).
If it wasn’t on my eyelid I’d at least try lancing it…but I’m not risking sticking a needle in my own eye.
Pictures after the “read more” link because it’s ugly and you may not want to look.
People really like to excuse their actions on the internet with “it’s just the internet” but quite frankly I think that the way that you act when you genuinely believe your actions are of no consequence says much, much more about you than you might be willing to reveal to others
Derek trains and handles dogs. He’s brilliant at it. Dogs respond to him. He can read their body language. They connect. It really is neat to watch. It also happens to be one of our most substantial sources of income.
So, when he re-injured his knee a few weeks ago, we worried. The next step down this road is a total knee replacement. Our future suddenly seemed uncertain. If Derek can’t walk, Derek can’t work. Our fears were compounded by the fact that Derek has been “uninsurable” since a young age because of those pesky pre-exising conditions. We pay for all of his medical expenses out of pocket. All of them.
Today a lovely receptionist at an ortho office ran my debit card for $900. Derek’s knee has a few more years, we hope. Today was shots of some lubricant that will pad his joint and cortisone.
Im thankful he can work. He can be productive. He can do what he loves.
Im also keenly aware that many Americans can’t afford to seek treatment when they need it. $900 is a small fortune to the average household.
Our health care system has been broken for a long time. It keeps people sick. It kills people. And the politicians in bed with insurance and drug lobbyists benefit the most. Not the people.
This is a system that practically denies its citizens the ability to pursue happiness. How can a sick person be made whole if they can’t choose their doctor, their treatment, or their ability to work versus being disabled?
We, as a people, need to demand better of our government. Would we allow corruption in our own families, small-buisnesses, or circle of friends?
Then why do we accept this is the way things are in Washington?
Thankfully we dodged this bullet. Thankfully we can afford to pay 20k a year to doctors and drug companies. Thankfully we can work and support ourselves.
But what about those who cant?
What about people whose HMOs dictate, essentially, if American citizens will live or die? What about public hospitals that band-aid a problem rather than fixing it? What about the people on the margins?
On the cover it says “Five Novels and One Story,” so I’m guessing so, yeah. I can’t believe the first one is only 143 pages - I’m already on page 74.
(Also, five parts of the trilogy? That math isn’t adding up in my head. Does that have to do with what it said in the foreword, about how he was having problems with the deadline and they asked him to finish up the page and ship along what he had so they could publish it?)
Reblogging because I can’t pare this down to fit a reply (or I’m just too lazy).
When the third book came out, the entire story was described as a trilogy. Then, when the fourth book was released, it was called a “trilogy in four parts.” Then, when Mostly Harmless came out, a blurb on the cover said “The fifth book in the increasingly inaccurately named Hitchhiker’s Trilogy.”
This was before franchises like Police Academy, Star Wars, and Jaws had made it “socially acceptable,” for lack of a better term, to ride the wave beyond a third installment, so the word trilogy just stuck…regardless of how loosely the term is used in this case.
Maybe it's a southern thing, but I prefer being addressed as 'ma'am'. I was checking out somewhere and the cashier called me 'miss' and I cringed. It might have had a lot to do with her voice/tone but it really irked me. LONG LIVE MA'AM!
For a while, “miss” became my go-to greeting because I was afraid of getting in trouble again for using ma’am and it sounded better than “hey, lady!” (maybe I shouldn’t have done it in my Jerry Lewis voice).
Then I decided to consult a dictionary, and saw that the ladies who were offended by ma’am were just being overly picky.
As are men who don’t like being called sir. “My father is sir.” “Yeah, well so are you.”
I can understand if someone would prefer to be called something else. That’s fine with me. I’ll call you “your highness” if that’s what you want, and you ask nicely…but the curt “don’t call me ma’am/sir” like the person who said it did something wrong is just dumb.