The Secret Diary of Janey Jones

[sweepthefloor]

Oh, please please PLEASE don't go to a pshrink! S/He might stifle or monopolize your thoughtwords, and we would forever be reft of them. Keep your in/sanity here where we can share it and enjoy it and absorb it.

The military of the 21st century is much less understanding of the needs of its personnel to be allowed some shred of individuality. The WWII personnel, and a little later, even up to Korea and perhaps beyond, were among the last of the US military to have the luxury of their generals and admirals understand that human beings need to be treated like human beings in order to perform superhuman feats. Now it's all computerized, spreadsheet-organized, and templated until the individual who stands out in the least bit is whack-a-moled into compliance and conformity, or driven down into the ground until, unlike Punxsutawney Phil, they never rise again, even on February 2nd.

You may not have wings or a jet engine, but it is not true that you are not powerful. Your thoughts and dreams and words most certainly are, and *they* are your eject button, your parachute, your antigravity platform that takes your mind to heights others can only sit in their jet-fueled machines and watch with tears and envy in their eyes as they watch you go by on your way through the heavens.

I don’t know if a pshrink could stifle my thoughts without chemical restraints. It’s a risk.

I guess the air force does not allow painting on jets. I don’t get it. I wouldn’t want to fly a jet if I couldn’t paint something on the nose of it.

The thing about clouds is that my head is in them. I go to sleep that way, in the morning the fog rolls in and my dreams are actualized on those days.

 

[sweepthefloor]

Shrinks have gotten a lot less barbaric. They can be of limited usefulness, and you don't have to have any lobes of creative force hatcheted out. You're no dum dum, I bet you have a billion litmus strips for determining if someone could actually help you figure out - whatever you want figured.

I will tell the doctor: Love is what the person says it is, feels what it is when it is swimming around in our bloodstream. The assessment of love is just like pain assessment. It is not in the hands of the questioner to determine if love like pain is real or not. It is subjective and highly individualized. Is this not true?

One of mine would have probably said "sure is."

I would venture into the psychiatrist office for the purpose of telling a story and walking out with a piece of paper that says: Mentally Intact. If I could have that piece of paper as proof, I would take the time to speak a story. I just want the paper. I want to hold it close to me and scream to myself: See! I told you!

I would show this paper to future lovers: Before we begin this journey, I just want you to know that I have been cleared from the nut house, so don’t even think about trying to get me committed!

Dum Dums are fun, but Blow-Pops last longer.

 

[sweepthefloor]

In my experience, psychiatrists are useful, as are certain types of psychologist. "Therapists" and "counselors," on the other hand...not so much.

The trouble with all of this is that it requires work and speaking. Maybe I am just lazy. I think I would do well with some behavior conditioning-- because the thoughts of why don't matter much to me, only the end results matter to me. This can be achieved with a little self discipline, I have done it before and I will do it again.

When I am laying in bed awake crying at 0400, I might change my mind.

 

[BigMeanie]

The trouble with all of this is that it requires work and speaking. Maybe I am just lazy. I think I would do well with some behavior conditioning...

I know just the type of behavior conditioning that will work on you.

 

[sweepthefloor]

I know just the type of behavior conditioning that will work on you.

Operant Conditioning at the House of Mean. It is all about the consequences here, but watch out for that positive punishment: when the subject might secretly like it, then what?

 

[BigMeanie]

Operant Conditioning at the House of Mean. It is all about the consequences here, but watch out for that positive punishment: when the subject might secretly like it, then what?

Positive reinforcement can work just as well as a punishment, if not better. The only negative here is that I may not get to do everything I want.

 

[sweepthefloor]

Most likely I am a big baby. I might even cry. Then what will happen?

 

[BigMeanie]

Most likely I am a big baby. I might even cry. Then what will happen?

I'll give you something to really cry about.

 

[sweepthefloor]

I'll give you something to really cry about.

You like to tease me.

 

[sweepthefloor]

I am the catcher. My throw hand is hidden behind my back when we are relaxed. The more base runners there are the higher up my ass will be because I am in the ready position.

I frame the ball for my lovers pitch to show the world that it doesn’t matter if you are slightly inside, we can still be in the strike zone. The umpire is my friend and I am backing my bottom and protecting blue too. This is a three-way love affair between the one that I receive from, and the one that hovers over my back.

 

[sweepthefloor]

At the check out I realized my debit card was left at home and I couldn't pay for the items. Tears of embarrassment welled in my eyes.

I stared at the cashier and said: it's my husband... I've been cut off. He has stolen the card from my purse and probably hid it. His torment knows no boundaries. Put everything back. It is hopeless.

I left the store sobbing.

 

[BigMeanie]

You like to tease me.

Indeed I do.

 

[waaitg]

I would venture into the psychiatrist office for the purpose of telling a story and walking out with a piece of paper that says: Mentally Intact. If I could have that piece of paper as proof, I would take the time to speak a story. I just want the paper. I want to hold it close to me and scream to myself: See! I told you!

I would show this paper to future lovers: Before we begin this journey, I just want you to know that I have been cleared from the nut house, so don’t even think about trying to get me committed!

Dum Dums are fun, but Blow-Pops last longer.

Ditto

 

[waaitg]

The trouble with all of this is that it requires work and speaking. Maybe I am just lazy. I think I would do well with some behavior conditioning-- because the thoughts of why don't matter much to me, only the end results matter to me. This can be achieved with a little self discipline, I have done it before and I will do it again.

When I am laying in bed awake crying at 0400, I might change my mind.

Sometimes I think all we really need to get through life is finding someone who will listen to us cry at 0400 and hold us until it passes.

 

[waaitg]

At the check out I realized my debit card was left at home and I couldn't pay for the items. Tears of embarrassment welled in my eyes.

I stared at the cashier and said: it's my husband... I've been cut off. He has stolen the card from my purse and probably hid it. His torment knows no boundaries. Put everything back. It is hopeless.

I left the store sobbing.

I feel slightly guilty but this makes me laugh. Not at your predicament but at how well you dealt with the situation.

PS / EDIT ... I should have merged the last 3 posts but meh, I apologize for not.

 

[Curious_in_Cali]

At the check out I realized my debit card was left at home and I couldn't pay for the items. Tears of embarrassment welled in my eyes.

I stared at the cashier and said: it's my husband... I've been cut off. He has stolen the card from my purse and probably hid it. His torment knows no boundaries. Put everything back. It is hopeless.

I left the store sobbing.

I have had that moment but it involved more blushing and more of a silent walk of shame out the door. From behind you in line, I would have watched you cry for a moment and then sneakily and hurriedly bought your groceries and followed you out to your car. I would of course have tossed in a box of tissues and a few chocolate caramels to help sop up the tears. Everyone knows that chocolate caramels are so much better a bit salted.

 

[BigMeanie]

... From behind you in line, I would have watched you cry for a moment and then sneakily and hurriedly bought your groceries and followed you out to your car. I would of course have tossed in a box of tissues and a few chocolate caramels to help sop up the tears. Everyone knows that chocolate caramels are so much better a bit salted.

Very nice!

 

[DeepGreenEyes]

At the check out I realized my debit card was left at home and I couldn't pay for the items. Tears of embarrassment welled in my eyes.

I stared at the cashier and said: it's my husband... I've been cut off. He has stolen the card from my purse and probably hid it. His torment knows no boundaries. Put everything back. It is hopeless.

I left the store sobbing.

Hold it. Were you in the "20 tears or less" line?

 

[sweepthefloor]

Sometimes I think all we really need to get through life is finding someone who will listen to us cry at 0400 and hold us until it passes.

I will have to try that method one day.

I feel slightly guilty but this makes me laugh. Not at your predicament but at how well you dealt with the situation.

PS / EDIT ... I should have merged the last 3 posts but meh, I apologize for not.

I am glad you laughed. It was a dramatic act.
I don't always merge, not apology is needed.

 

[sweepthefloor]

I have had that moment but it involved more blushing and more of a silent walk of shame out the door. From behind you in line, I would have watched you cry for a moment and then sneakily and hurriedly bought your groceries and followed you out to your car. I would of course have tossed in a box of tissues and a few chocolate caramels to help sop up the tears. Everyone knows that chocolate caramels are so much better a bit salted.

I like salty and sweet things.

 

[sweepthefloor]

Hold it. Were you in the "20 tears or less" line?

Were you behind me smelling my hair?

 

[sweepthefloor]

The Teddy Bear was prepped and draped. In the usual sterile fashion the incision was made, and an old metal ticker clock was inserted without complications. Estimated stuffing loss equals one fist-full. The wound was closed using #0 silk with a continuous locking blanket type stitch. The Teddy Bear was admitted in stable condition to the Jane Jones Recovery Bed for close monitoring, and deep snuggling.

And there I was with my Teddy Bear Ticking—a heart beat just for me.

 

[DeepGreenEyes]

Were you behind me smelling my hair?

Yes. It filled my nostrils with the scent of sutures, mental intactness and midnight sandwiches.

I was behind you with the hummus and the basket of "reduced for quick sale" dreams.

 

[sweepthefloor]

I put my dress on and made myself pretty. The dress is silky and soft. The softness made me sleepy. I got under the blanket and fell asleep. The sound of a fire truck blazing woke me up and I ½ worried that my own house was on fire. I waited a few minutes, when I didn’t hear the roof cracking and didn’t smell smoke: I fucked my pillow two times.

The phone rang and I realized I had no excuse for the man so I took another shower and tried to wash myself away.

 

[sweepthefloor]

He said: You should get on the roller-coaster ride before all the seats fill up.

I said: The thing about rides is that they always come back around. If I get scared and step out of line, I can always go to the back of the line.