I read some disturbing mormon history. An article on schizophrenia maybe not being a mental illness, but something else, what else, I'm not sure, the article was technical and confusing. And several articles on rehabbing hoarded cats.
Summation: The mormons-people, adults, actually believe this stuff? Horded cats-you need love and patience. Schizophrenia-it's complicated.
I have filled in some of my memories of Seminary in high school. And learned that my ancestor wasn't involved with either massacre that occurred in Utah by the pioneers during the early church days. So my mom lied about that, too. There's a bunch of white guilt that I can use the eraser on. I'm officially turning my back on my mormon heritage and turning to my Swedish heritage. I will simply ignore the part of my family that came from the bastard children of the Fathers of the Church.
I've been on reddit at r/exmormon. That's where I'm learning a lot. They answer my questions, no matter how dumb. So, there are safe corners of reddit. And Wikipedia. They've got gobs of Basic mormon history that will gladly lead you to more detailed articles.
How did Falco make German sound, I hate to say it, but gay? I love listening to german, except Der Kommissar. The German in that song just sounds off. I find it annoying. Skip.
I got a mass message from Andy Behrman yesterday. It was about stigma and fear. He's kind of the star of the Twitter mental illness set. So, to be noticed by him was kind of a big deal to me.
I'm coming up on 700 followers. I'm kind of blown away, because the last 100 have just happened over the past few weeks. They still don't RT me. Creeps. I RT everyone. my TL is mostly RTs. you see it, the tweets come up on here. anything with a RT in front of it means I shared from someone else's tweet. I will never get the hang of social media. this is MySpace all over again.
There's a new guy on my FB. He had two friends in common with me and wasn't from the middle east, so I added him as a friend. He zeroed in on the picture of me in bra and undone jeans, documenting my weight. Gave advice regarding lingerie, and assured me I looked fine. And then pushed it just a little further and stopped right before i got uncomfortable. So we'll see where this goes. I don't want to be sexy and wear lingerie, I'm a tomboy. I want cotton, not silk and lace. lace tears, silk runs. too much bother.
I found my yearbook last night and looked up that guy from FB who's been challenging me. I don't recognize him AT ALL. He was in marching band, so he knew a couple of people I knew, and of course he knew Leslie, she knew everyone. I may have met him during the spring musical, because my good friend (who won't friend me on FB now) and my mom worked on the musical. I was around a lot during the rehearsals. But I swear I do not know him. So he's making assumptions about me based on 25 year old misinformation. What a tool.
Here's a CALL FOR HELP: I read this article last night about schizophrenia maybe not beig a mental illness, but I got lost in it and missed the point. http://bit.ly/1yp8fGh is the article. If you are at all science minded and would care to read it and help summarize it for me so I can understand it, I would be much obliged. I really need to understand it so I can talk to my shrink about it.
Did you know that studies show that schizophrenics are more prone to develop Alzheimers? So that's something to look forward to. But that article, it is like it was written in some foreign language that I only knew a few words of. I really need help with that. If any of you have free time.
So, all of the websites about rehabbing a hoarded kitty say the same thing, you need a lot of patience and a lot of love. Especially with the ones that were caged. When I got up this morning, Boomer was curled up in the sink in the quarantine room. Doc said she had come out for a couple of hours in the early morning. She's closed in for now, but I'll let her out in a couple of hours. She's sleeping right now, anyway. So this is going to take time and be a challenge. I can handle it. I can make her all better. Time and love are two things I have a whole bunch of.
I want Doc to wake up. I miss him. He has work tonight. And he's napping now so he can go over to B's today, which will put his main sleep into nap form, because he spends a lot of time when he goes over. Last night I was joking around about the big-ass truck's transmission and B working on it (it's important here that you know what B looks like, you're familiar with Golllum?), and I commented that all we really needed to do was boost him up into the engine with his tools and let him crawl around in it for a while. Doc said, "You're such a bitch," which, yeah, I am to B, because I know the shit he talks about me to Doc. See, the engine of the big-ass truck comes up to B's chin. He literally will have to climb up onto the truck to work on the engine.