In the midst of my triumphant return as the The Queen of Christmas Cookies, I have been mulling over a lot of mental…stuff
If I tried to tell it all to you well I could write a book. Probably a series. The crap that goes through my head everyday is unfathomable. That is why I have a blog.
I used to read a lot of self-help books. Whatever the issue I would buy or check out and devour every single book I could find on the subject. Usually buy until I got the book about curing addiction to ridiculous advice.
The problem is that each one had a different coping strategy, a different theory of WHY –
- why our relationship is lame,
- why our parenting skills suck,
- why our parents are to blame for how screwed up we are,
- why they aren’t,
- why we are irresponsible twits
There are self-help books on everything you can think of that you need to help yourself on. You think I am wrong? Think of the strangest most annoying problem you have… now Google it. See? Somewhere in there is a self-help book or 500. For someone like me, trusting, gullible, cracked, clueless amongst other things self-help books are a nightmare.
Each one promised to change my life. Each one told me what I was doing wrong. Gave me a game plan for making it right. Each one promised to be the answer and I would be giddy (read mildly manic) as I devoured my newest edition and vowed to change my life.
Some give you permission to be wishy-washy by putting all the blame on your poor parents ignoramus parenting skills, while others explain in great detail how your own ignoramus parenting skills will destroy your kids lives. It is a fact that I am haunted by all the ways that I have supposedly ruined my kids. I don’t see any hope that The Gaggle, not one of them will pull themselves out of the hole I put them in.
Love the ones that tell you how stupidly you have done things and the damage that you can’t undo BUT if you follow the plan TO THE – T – you can salvage something of your worthiness. And if you fail, you can always blame your parents.
Being as how I don’t like to make generalizations, or at least clarify when I do, I have to say they aren’t all worthless. In fact once you realize that reading every book you can find on whatever bugs you will only screw you up more and that nobody died and made any of these self-help gurus experts and that there is something for everybody out there as long as you pick one instead of 200, the right book can be quite helpful.
That’s the real problem, that each one of these books is nothing but another person’s – ok well-educated usually – perception on the problem at hand. They aren’t right or wrong really. Just able to get it into some form of organization and market it well enough that they are given the dubious title of The Man, or The Woman or whatever.
All that being said I still read them just for fun. My new approach is that if it is what I need to do it will stick with me. In the last 20 years I have read a gazillion self-help books on everything from relationships to parenting to emotional abuse to of course Bipolar disorder.
My brain is bursting with all kinds of snippets of advice on how to make life better. Maybe I should write a book. I mean I have the perfect credentials right? I have a degree in uh….or I was trained in ..well…ok forget the credentials, I can sound like I know what I am talking about. That comes from being a Mom. Then if I can get Oprah’s attention, I will be golden.
The big decision would be what category to write about. Parenting, relationships, emotional abuse and domestic violence, bipolar? All of the above? A how to book, if you will, and I will be the new self-help guru and authority on being a divorced mom of 6 kids with bipolar disorder and a crappy attitude about house work. I can see the books flying off the shelves.
- Nobody Can MAKE you do anything. Except your Mom.
- Quit Your Whining in 3 Easy Steps – You Don’t have to act like a victim.
- Vagina is Just Another Way to Spell Virginia.
- Your Parents Don’t Live Here – Quit Blaming Them for Your Mess.
- Understanding Your Inner Child is Not an excuse to act like a 2-year-old.
- You Aren’t Crazy. No Really.
- Stop Being a Dick Magnet Except Where it Counts
- Putting Your Kids on Lockdown Doesn’t Teach Them How to Live
- Being Cracked in a Perfect World.
- Spoiling Your Inner Brat.
OK. I could probably come up with a few more but titles are just the hook. I’ll have to think on this for a while. At least until my next brilliant idea pops up.
The kitchen is calling and the cookies won’t make themselves. It isn’t easy being Queen. I will tell you all about it when the oven cools.
When the Oven Cools – Reflections of a Cracked Queen. (Not to be confused with The Queen of Crack!)
That might be a best seller. A great post title for sure.
I guess I should go ahead and give writing a self-help book a shot. If I can’t get it done or it’s a flop, I can always blame my parents.
Yeah. That will work.