Being Latino

I had never really considered what being Latino meant to me until Lance Rios of Being Latino asked. It’s something that I have, at times, taken completely for granted and at other times I have resented as an unasked for burden. I love my culture, don’t get me wrong, but there have been times in my life where other people have left me feeling that I have something to prove. That I have to prove my worth as an individual because I was poor, because I was from the Bronx, because I was Latino. There have been times where I have felt that I had to even prove that I was Latino, or Latino enough, to people who were old enough and educated enough to know better than to categorize something as ephemeral as cultural identity.

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When Parents Are Too Toxic to Tolerate – NYTimes.com

Mind – When Parents Are Too Toxic to Tolerate – NYTimes.com.

I wholeheartedly agree. I also think it’s important to protect your children from toxic familial relationships so they learn to model healthy relationships filled with love. I have been estranged from both my parents and my only brother for several years now and it’s not a decision that I regret. I only regret its necessity and harbor some feelings of anger, resentment, and sadness about not having healthy relationships with people who should be in my life but for their inability to respect my right to my own.

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Remembrance Day

I think my father lived in the shadow of a brother with whom he could never compete. This brother was well-liked, affable by all accounts. He died in combat in 1966, a casualty of the conflict in Vietnam. He died just shy of his 21st birthday and thus, he will always live and loom larger than his life in the memories of our family, frozen in time as someone who never did any harm, if only because he never had a chance. He’s untouchable. My father never stood a chance.

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Part 4: The Bootstrap Conundrum & Personal Accountability

I have witnessed first hand the bootstrap conundrum. There is a prevailing attitude in our country that people who have problems need to learn to pick themselves up by their bootstraps, snap out of it, and “just do it.” A typical bipolar response to this attitude, however, is “how do you pick yourself up by your bootstraps when you don’t even have any boots?”

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Part 3: Treatment, Adherence, Crisis, and Stigma

In ye olde days, doctors used to call it “compliance.” You were prescribed medication and if you took your meds, you were compliant. If, for whatever reason, you did not take your meds, you were labeled “non-compliant” with all the attendant bad juju that went with it. Non-compliant was fairly well synonymous with “difficult” or “untreatable.”

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Part 2: Denial

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A Spammer Asked Me Why I Started This Site

This site evolved from a previous site called Pendulum Parenting which was specifically written as more of a support site for people who were working through issues with mental illness while parenting children. I eventually found the format too narrow and oppressive to keep up with and abandoned it. I maintained an interest in writing, however, and decided that a new domain that more accurately reflected my identity and not one small part of it would better serve me in the long run. I started lunasmom.com so I could write about anything that struck my peculiar fancy, but with my personalized stamp.

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Turning Thought into Practice

I see a therapist to help me achieve specific goals in my life. I am past the point in therapy where I want to talk about my daddy issues; I don’t need insight into my illness, I have it seeping out of my pores. What I need now are results. I know what’s broken; I am looking for tried and true approaches for achieving a higher level of function. I need to replace old coping mechanisms, or areas of my life where I have no coping mechanisms at all, with ideas and practices that work. I need an action plan!

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Mothering Dilemmas: Sharing a Toilet with My Son

Not in my top ten list of things I want to discuss loudly while on the pot in a crowded tourist bathroom:

“What is that thing with the blue string?”

“That’s a complicated question. Can we talk about it later?”

“What is this box on the wall?”

“It’s a little garbage can.”

“What is it for?”

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The Mind-Body Connection

Don’t Neglect Your Body as You Develop Your Mind.

I was talking to my husband late last night about the things that are preying on my mind these days. He leaves for a contract job 1000 miles away from us next week and I am hunkered down trying to ride out the emotional turbulence leading up to his departure: all of the last minute home improvements, the disorganized clutter involved with finding passports, social security cards, etc., the cleaning and packing.

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