unreasonably rational

It's a Friday night, and I can't quite bring myself to not stay up late. Silly, really, and I even know it. But oh, well. Only, I should go to sleep soon, because I'm supposed to be somewhere by noon tomorrow, however I first need to take my car to the shop. It took up making this absolutely horrible sound whenever I put on the brakes. Which still braked, so don't panic. It just sounded really bad. So I plan to actually get up early (i.e. on time) tomorrow to see if I can get it fixed. But I just remembered that I have neither oatmeal nor cereal for breakfast. Terrible. Anyway, I really did have a point. The informal OCD blogging community has been discussing wording, stigma, and mental illness. So I thought I'd chime in. When a noun that labels a psychiatric disorder is used as an adjective, it seems to me it is usually being used in the casual, careless way. "You are crazy." "That's crazy." "Crazy kid." In my experience

There seem to be some mysteries in life. Things that I'm just not going to completely understand at this point. I might just barely understand them, if even that. But that doesn't mean I wouldn't like a few answers spelled out with mathematical clarity. My small group at church decided to go through a book about the Holy Spirit. Not the Bible, though, just one of those books where a guy tries to express what he thinks the Bible says on the subject. Perhaps you already know my skepticism regarding Bible teachers. Well, that flared a bit. But it wasn't so much that specifically. I was afraid the book would make me upset. And it did. I got a good cry in last night. Not even so much from what the book said as from what it reminded me of. I remembered how I felt some church people around me had terribly failed me. Not on purpose. I presume most of them were trying to help, and I appreciate that. But I remember being so far down, that spot where you are hanging on by

I call this a drawn out exposure because I consider any exposure lasting more than 5 to 15 minutes to be long and drawn out. In case you wondered how long I generally engage in an exposure, now you know. Today, I went shopping. After working on a budget last night, which technically I haven't necessarily blown yet, although I'm close to the edge in a category or few. At first, I made it through the dollar store only purchasing one thing. Then through Walmart only purchasing two things, my internet pass for the next two months, and a pair of leggings. Then I went on a hunt for boots. Perhaps I should let you in on the fact that my aunt gave me a shirt, but it didn't quite fit, so I returned it to the store here locally, and found a Tshirt and a little dress for less than the original sale shirt (that is why I like 70 - 90% off things... and chance, that I found those two items). Well, that was sort of risky buying those (I have OCDish anxiety about shopping that I'll

Well, here it is, New Year's Day. It feels like I should write a post on my goals for the new year. Or write why I don't make New Year's Resolutions. It seems that the options are perhaps equally acceptable, if Facebook comments and shares are any indication. Why don't I like to make New Year's Resolutions? Because they fire up my guilt-producing machine. You know, the one that OCD has fun with. I'm guilty because I don't budget my money (or because I don't budget it better). I'm guilty because I ate too much for supper (never mind that I was forever hungry all day until then, even though I kept eating). I'm guilty because... Oh, really? Well, actually , I cleaned my apartment today. My sister from a few states away was visiting and we had our day together, or afternoon together. Which was lovely. And which inspired my house cleaning. I even made it all the way to cleaning out my car. I give myself gold stars for all that. And the time with