Detrimental to my Mental

LIFE!!! Its really detrimental to my mental. My life is driving me insane, to the looney bin. Yesturday, my car got repo'd from my job. Then today I learn that the bank my paycheck is expected to be deposited into tomorrow closed my account due to excessive overdraft. Now this is too much for one person to bear (alone anyways).
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KRAZY for Konads

Here is my latest amateur Konad creation. I had a blast playing with my Konads for the first time in 3 days. I used Sinful polish color unknown right now and white Konad with multiple Bundle Monster plates. It's original design so u can't replicate it. LOL. Nah, but I was just too excited to use one design. The color was a gift from a client yesturday who saw my nails and blessed me with about 5 great polishes. I really felt blessed because I am broke until payday and can't afford NO polish right now. I only had a few now I got some more to play with thanks to this very nice lady named Ann. I am so pleased with the outcome of my nails and it's getting easier too. That "Seche Vite" quick drying top coat is a miracle in a bottle. Before it took my nails FOREVER (if ever) to dry. With Seche Vite it drys is 1 or 2 minutes. AMAZING. Where has it been my whole life? If u haven't tried it on ur nails ur missing out!!! I'll post a pic of it later.
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KRAZY for Konads

Here is my nails on day 3 with Konads. I'm having a blast Konading. Its just hard to do my dominant hand using the non dominant one. And I can't get all my stamps to work. Some do well and others do not. Oh, yeah. When I use pink or red polish I can't see it's position on the stamper too good making it hard to place. Anyone have ideas?
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Krazy for Konad

Here is the result of my practice night #2. Twas fun. Can't wait to get good at it so I can "pimp my nails"!!!
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:: Pimp My Nails ::

I gotta get like "pimp my nails" This is way TOO hot. Can you say WOO Honey! Plus I can't wait till payday to get this collection of colors. Oh my gosh, I am SO excited right now about doing my nails. Ha, it's funny too. I am laughing at myself!


:: Pimp My Nails ::

KRAZY for my Konads

I am loving my Konad. I stayed up and played with it all night and this is my result. Not that good yet but no one knows...they think it's nice and fancy...I do too. Can't wait to do more tonight. I was surprised of how difficult of a time it was to do the stamping. All the blogs and youtubes made it look so easy. Can't wait to get better at it! GO Konad. Go Konad!!!
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Detrimental to my Mental 1

This is going to be my new way of documenting my struggles with mental health. I guess this will be like a series, yeah a series. That sounds good. Hope someone will find some of this stuff helpful or interesting at least. For me, it is my way of journaling my VERY challenging struggles with my Depression and Anxiety, my stress, and my stressors, my life in therapy, and the therapy I experience just in living in life.

So here we go!
I had therapy with my case manager yesterday. As usual, I was a emotional wreck! I talked about how I feel so frustrated with my life and not being able to take care of my basic needs prevents me from "staying in the moment" or doing any other DBT techniques. Truthfully, the theory and technique overall just does not resonate with me. I just don't get it. It seems to be for white people with lives that are filled with pockets of opportunity to be in the world without worries. You know, not having to worry about how I'll continue to hide my car from repo, avoid getting in a accident or pulled over with no insurance on my LONG 2-way commute or wondering how I will bounce checks to get my meds for the month and how I will keep food in our mouths and gas in the car after paying rent and the bills. You know the real worries, the ones that no one else I know (white folks or married black folks) has these problems to worry about. So yes, they have time to let thoughts pass thru their minds like clouds and think about observing and describing the environment around them and/or inside. Even being that I feel this stuff is just impossible and dumb (for me),I still try to do it in a hopeless effort to feel better. To not be overwhelmed with emotion with every stressor or trigger (that could be as simple as a movie clip).

During this session, the therapist decided to start a social history on me to help her better understand me and oh boy, did I give IT to her! She had no clue that I had been thru so much in my life. She seemed to be really shocked but even being so, she tried to make me see the good and purpose in my life and what I do. She said for me to think about how much the foster youth that I work with really need me and how much I offer the system with my background of being in foster care myself. I try to think that way but most of the times (these days anyways) I feel like that is a crop of $hit and I am sacrificing myself and my sanity to do this work. This work forces me to think of my pain daily and that is exhausting. Sometimes I just want to give up on this job as a CPS social worker but then I think,"what else do I know how to do?". So I keep trucking, walking on eggshells though. I could crack anytime! Literally! and that is how I be feelin. I wonder if anyone else can relate to these feelings I have. I mean any other BLACK people or am I just messed up cause I caught this white peoples disease/condition from somewhere (maybe school, lol).

I went to the DBT group this week and they were talking more non sense. So ridiculous that I'd rather not even get into details. There was this one white woman there who was SO into it that it urked me. IDK, the shit is just stupid but I did learn or gain insight rather that it is impossible for me to regulate my emotions when I have so many unmet basic needs. I can not even begin to facade "PLEASE MASTER" skills if I don't have the means to do them. The case manager agreed but she may have just been stuck because she never heard anyone have this kind of insight about the DBT and why it is not working for me. So that concludes this weeks episode of Detrimental to my Mental...unless something outrageous happens, see ya next week or so.

HeY UM EXCITED

I got my Konad stamping started today. It was funny playing with the stamps trying to make them work (like the Konad bloggers).
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Guest Post. Put A Ring On It: Why I’m Not Single, And You Are

Dear Ladies,


I am married.


In fact, I am quite happily married. When my husband met me, I was 26, lived in a sparsely furnished 2 bedroom townhouse, an unemployed full time grad student (rent paid by a fellowship) and the single mother of a 7 year old boy. I drove a busted ass 1999 Alero that had a steering wheel held together with duct tape and my car radio consisted of a hole with a bunch of exposed wires. I got by, by bartering with my EBT card and fixing resumes. When I met my husband, he was employed full time as a manager for a Fortune 100 company. He owned 4 houses, his own business, an impressive stock portfolio and his credit score was (and still is) immaculate. His car not only had an intact steering wheel and radio, but was fully paid for. He is also 2.5 years my junior.
We often encounter people of the opposite sex who are – to put this delicately – out of our leagues, or “on another level.” But whether that level is beneath you or above you is irrelevant. There are no “leagues.” Tiger Woods married the fucking babysitter. Star Jones married a gay man. Point is, you’re single, and if you’re a woman, then I can bet you’re single and you don’t want to be. Maybe you’ve never been anywhere, maybe you’re on some blunts and bullshit, maybe you decided to go to school, become valedictorian of your class, graduated, started a school in Africa and a multimedia empire and looked up and realized you.are.still.single. (Oprah knows I’m talking to her).


I hear the squawking. “I don’t need no man, cluck cluck cluck.” “I can raise my kids by myself cluck cluck cluck.” “There aren’t any good men out there! Squawk!” And frankly, I’m unimpressed. I know the truth. And what you don’t realize is that THEY know the truth, too. They know it and they use it against us. So allow me to impart a few words of wisdom (in no particular order, as each one as important as the next) so that you, too, can stop fronting and get off your sad, single, why-can’t-i-find-a-good-man train, and get like me.
Read. Sun Tzu wrote a book called The Art of War. Its 4000 years old, and starts off with Sun Tzu cutting the heads off some concubines because they were being silly instead of listening to what the fuck he had to say. Don’t let that be you.
I also recommend Robert Green’s The 48 Laws of Power. These books were written about war, which is just an unfortunate manifestation of man’s innate drive for domination and domination’s opposite, submission. You need to be fluent in both domination and submission. It ain’t a game, son. Love is psychological warfare.
Learn how to cook. I’m already annoyed that I even had to SAY that, but there are many trifling, non cooking heauxs out there. I’m not saying you need to be MacGyver in the kitchen, but a good pot of spaghetti will get him right. In fact, it’s not just cooking. Learn how to clean, too, you nasty whores. Do you honestly keep your maxi pads in plain view? Can you at least wrap them in a tissue before you throw them away? See why he didn’t want to spend the night?
STFU. I think this is pretty self explanatory. There’s no science to shutting up. He’s not listening to you because if he had to listen to you every time you opened your mouth, he could NEVER DO ANYTHIING ELSE. STFU.
GET YOUR HEAD GAME RIGHT. I had no intention of typing that in all caps but I accidently hit the caps lock. Then it occurred to me that I should probably leave it that way. If you don’t do it, prepare yourself for a life of loneliness and misery cause once he finds out you don’t do it, he will find someone who will and leave you at home with your cats. And if you DO do it, be sure to check with your man to make sure you’re doing it right. I know far too many men who are suffering through bad head because they’re just happy to be here. Don’t treat his junk like corn on the cob. Wrap your lips around your teeth and suck, ladies. Bad head won’t get you to where you want to be (like me, remember?).
Be a woman. This simple sentence encompasses so many things. Don’t act like a man, or more specifically, a nigga. Thug dudes who like butch chicks are only masking homosexual tendencies. They don’t give a fuck about going to jail because that’s the only place man on man sex is socially acceptable. So if he likes your crotch grabbing, neck tats and amazing ability to chug dark liquor, then he might like Shake Weights and Skechers step ups, too. Point is, men don’t want to have to compete for Head of Household status with you. Tuck your nuts and sit your ass down somewhere.
And please, grow the fuck up. Don’t run around here telling your girlfriends all his business, tweeting about how yo baby daddy ain’t shit, and fighting girls in the club because they were “looking at you funny.” Who told you broads physical violence and property damage were cute? Don’t you know the club ain’t the real world? In the real world these are crimes, and people go to jail and get sued for committing crimes. Don’t you watch Judge Mathis?
This basically boils down to knowing your place. You KNOW when you’re not the only one, not the MAIN one, or not even in the running. Know your place and act accordingly, with class and grace.
These lessons were hard learned, this knowledge not easily earned. We all have been a friend with benefits, a girlfriend, someone’s heaux, a “friend,” an ex girlfriend who he still sleeping with, a baby mama, a jump off, a little secret, a beard (can’t fix that one for ya!), a stalker, the one being stalked, and even fiancés. And shit, this advice might not even work for you. You STILL might not get wifed*. My boy El Jugo said, “Everybody ain’t able.” But for those of you who are, go forth and get a damn ring on it.


*Theses suggestions still apply after you get married. Don’t get lazy, whores.


Your Friend in the Struggle,
Klkenned