Eliza in Progress

Aren't you excited to read such a fun lighthearted post?  Buckle down, and get the prozac out cause I'm going to take you to a deep dark place.  :) English teachers look away because besides my horrifying spurts of punctuation, I'm about to break a big rule in telling you why I'm writing this post.  I know it should be clear but I feel I need to explain.  I am writing this post because even with all our progress as a society in understanding and tolerating differences, we still have such a long way to go.  Yes we don't lock new depressed mom's away in asylums and do electric shock therapy but I still hear phrases and descriptions of people with mental illness that at best make me cringe and at worst pain me.  And honestly in most cases I know its just a case of misunderstanding.  For people that have never experienced it must seem so hard to wrap your head around it.  How can we begin to understand something so inward, so personal and so intangible. Even I, a

If you were divide my thoughts into percentages this would be the breakdown. 2% is devoted to debating with myself whether to write that apology email/facebook message to bookclub/friends/neighbors or everyone in relief society on a comment that I nervously mentally vomited out.  1.5% is devoted to scavenging the house and wondering how, where and what I can procure to satisfy my sweet craving. 8% is used for coming up with mind games and motivational tricks and analyzing pros and cons of cleaning my house, "okay set the timer, see how fast you can do it", "call your sister and distract yourself" or my favorite "wait for Josh to call on his way home and do a mad dash to clean and sweep and load and scrub and then greet him with a kiss and a pretense that it looked like that all day", then about 14% is spent thinking about people and personalities and relationships.  " What if that shy person is like super wild and crazy with her family or friends, wha