#dbad

[cerealforkart]

Dragon Ball a Day

January 2025 | February 2025 | March 2025 | April 2025 | May 2025 | June 2025 | July 2025 | August 2025 | September 2025 | October 2025 | November 2025

[adamwhereartthou]

A personal mantra

[thedailycourtney]

December 13: Throwback Thursday

Sweet old Clementine inspired me to throw it back to my senior rescue, Baxter: 

Baxter was 8 when we (my mom and I) adopted him, old for a dog his size. He was filthy, and timid, and ate like his food was going to be snatched from him any second. 

He was only with us for three short years. He was the most gentle, sweet soul I’ve ever known, and my heart broke into a million pieces when he crossed that rainbow bridge. 

After he died, we planted wildflowers at the neighborhood park he loved so much. They always make me smile now, as does the cardinal that hangs around that area. I just know it’s him, stopping in to say hey. His ashes are still on my mantel. He wasn’t a snuggly dog, but he always liked to be hanging out in the same room as me, so that’s where he’ll stay.

A few months later, I so missed having a dog in the house, and thought I was ready. I sobbed in the Humane Society, because I didn’t want any dog, I wanted my dog, and I wasn’t through mourning. A few months after that, I saw a picture of Jack, and from then on, he was the only one for me.

Rescuing a senior animal can be devastating, but I wouldn’t change a thing. And I’m so happy he got to spend his last years in a home full of love and kindness. 

[stephiehell]

12/01: endings

i have a lot of experience with endings. i also have a lot of experience with the beginnings that absolutely always follow an ending. it’s more an eternal series of transitions on a spectrum for me.

here’s a popular but false idea regarding endings: we need “closure” and then we’ll feel better.

closure is a lie.

yep, i said it. closure is a nice concept, but doesn’t exist in real life.

when we seek closure in order to “move on,” it doesn’t happen. endings don’t work that way. endings are hard and painful, and it’s natural to want to feel in control of the process. what we are looking for as closure is really wanting to make sense of it all, to understand why something ended.

HOWEVER, the very reason for the pain of an ending is that we can’t come up with any meaningful idea of why it happened. we think that through investigation and understanding we will gain mastery.

guess what? horrible, painful things happen in this universe for no reason whatsoever to people who do not deserve it. but we humans are so uncomfortable with the idea that the world is not just, not reasonable, not fair that we instead tell ourselves stories to explain why these things happen.

enter closure.

it’s certainly a comforting belief that we can figure out why something ended. it’s just not true. some us of make up stories about god and a reward after death. some of us say, “everything happens for a reason.” when we do this, we’re really just whistling in the dark.

endings don’t ever conclude with one act or idea. loss is messy. tragedy is incomprehensible. we think we’re “done with” something and it comes up again, maybe in an entirely new way.

we cannot make sense of the pain of loss. our healing does not depend on one moment of clarity, one conversation, one ritual.

the thing that comforts me that is also TRUE is that life is ever evolving and new beginnings never stop. knowing that doesn’t do a thing for relieving the pain, but it does help me honor my pain, lean into the experience of endings with love and curiosity and compassion.

the idea of closure is a major stumbling block for me. using my intellect to make sense of an ending actually results in avoidance and delay in healing.

it just doesn’t now and won’t ever make sense. and that’s okay! we don’t need to justify the depth of our feelings with logic. it’s okay simply to have them.

(this is why my theoretical orientation in helping people heal tends toward existential and humanistic psychotherapy.)

[sunwillrisetoday]

How did you surprise yourself in 2018?

I started weight watchers and as of this point I've lost 39 lbs since March. It's been hard, but I feel better and have been able to stop taking my diabetes medication. I just have a other 40 to lose, so maybe 2019 will work out for me!

[cynicaldeathbat-blog]

Just as a sort of public service announcement to those who have younger siblings or who are parents who have sons or daughters who are now adults. If they make mistakes, if they come to you for advice, or just need a little help, don't scold them or treat them like a 5 year old that just scribbled on the wall. They're your child/younger sibling, yeah, but don't fucking yell at them. Unless it's something that was really bad like illegal or whatever, they don't need to be treated like they're a child still. All that does is it creates animosity towards each other, it makes your sibling/children feel like shit, and it makes them feel like they can't come to you for advice or help of any kind in the future. Your children and younger siblings look up to you and see you as a role model, this is why you have to show them that they can trust you. If they feel they can't come to you for fear of scrutiny or being treated like shit for simply not knowing something, you'll start to see and hear from them a lot less. So don't make it a habit to chase them away by treating them like some dumb kid, treat them like an equal coming to you for help or advice. I already can't count on a lot of my family anymore because I feel like all they'll ever do is get angry, and I've never really come to them for anything outside of what a normal person would mess up on, but this is sort of my warning to others out there: Treat your kids and younger siblings with the same kindness you'd want back, or you just might lose them.

[quickwitter]

SST: A Sexy Memory

I was engaged in high school, and remained so when I moved 350 miles away to go to college. My finaceé moved to Chicago and with him went the chaste fumbling years of waiting until marriage. My next boyfriend had a cool exterior, was deeply feral and sexual. I had been good for a long time, now I was curious about my options.

I don’t remember any of the specifics - what I remember was this. He showed up one afternoon with a bottle of wine he’d stolen from somewhere, and we were lying around chatting while drinking the wine, then not talking and disrobing one another slowly while exploring with hands and tongues and drinking the wine out of the hollows of each others bodies. With him, sex felt like a discovery, an adventure, there was no shame and on this bacchanal day all about touch and taste and play. A lovely writhing entwining. 

[theotherstephencobert]

December 13 Blogging Challenge

Throwback Thursday

In keeping with the season, here is a pic of me that dates all the way back to the morning of December 25, 2002.

A little ironic in light of yesterday's post, I know, but for some years I was a real "natural choice" to play the star of Christmas parties.

Here's a story about me in that suit from even further back.

It was a Christmas party in 2000, and all the children were so happy to sit on Santa's lap. All of them except my grandson Nicodemus, who was not quite 3 at the time. I set him on my lap, and in my "Santa voice" I asked him what he wanted for Christmas and if he'd been good this year. He didn't answer me, and I'm quite sure he was thinking, "Why is Grandpa dressed up as Santa? Why is everyone acting like he's really Santa? Are they dumb or something? Does he think I'm dumb or something?"

Nicky was the last child to sit on Santa's lap, so after he was done I told them I had to get back to the North Pole. I headed down the stairs, saying "HO! HO! HO! MERRY CHRISTMAS!" And of course, everyone, adults and children (with one exception) called after me, "Bye, Santa! Merry Christmas!"

Once downstairs, I quickly got out of my outfit (my regular clothes were on underneath) and then quickly but quietly dashed upstairs. Nic's attention was diverted, so I slipped through the den and out the back door. Then I came back in through the kitchen door, also at the back of the house, and non-chalantly walked into the living room, where my grandson saw me. "Hi, Nicky!" I said brightly. "I heard Santa was here! Did I miss him?"

The little fellow's eyes grew as wide as saucepans. He went running back to the stairwell and yelled, "BYE, MERRY CHRISTMAS!" down it.

It wasn't very long after that - just one year later, in fact - the Nicodemus figured out Santa really was Grandpa. But that did make for a fun Christmas memory.