If You Can't Say Anything Nice...

...then write it!
Passive Aggressive Notes. If you don't want to check the site out, no worries. And if you haven't decided to "follow" my blog yet, all good. No, it's totally cool. I haven't been posting comments all over facebook, myspace and twitter because I want people to join this blog. I was only doing it for my health. For real.

TODAY'S ROXY SHOCKS RX: Be Aggressive! B-E Aggressive! Go get some pom-poms and get nasty out there! At least you'll be honest with people about your hostility towards them.

Crazy Bitch or Pobrecita?

I've been immersed in a research paper writing frenzy since I started my doctoral program in July of 2008. But now that I'm a mama (and a working one at that), the world of graduate studies has taken a slightly more, um, hard turn.

Today I find myself drafting what seems like my seven millionth research paper on borderline personality disorder. The stigmatized diagnosis has been getting more press lately as television shows such as "Sex Rehab with Dr. Drew" have started to incorporate clinical depictions, themes and terminology into their format. And hey, there is definitely something intriguing, enigmatic, entertaining, shocking, even hilarious about seeing a person (usually a woman) seeming to fit the "psycho bitch" label that society likes to slap on people who can't seem to get a grasp on their tempers and actions.

But, the actual etiolology of BPD is anything but funny. Beginning in infancy, people who develop the criteria for BPD usually have insecure attachments with their mothers...often they've been abused, abandoned, neglected, and/or molested. Sometimes the parent suffers from addiction and is unable to meet their baby's needs. Somewhere along the line of that child's development, they were arrested in a very painful way, and as an adult they are stuck between wanting to be intimate and have loving relationships, and wanting people to stay the hell away from them because they never learned how to trust that people care for them(or sometimes even know what love is.) This can create a deep wounding called abandonment depression which hurts this child to their core, and is extremely difficult (if not almost impossible) to heal.

Yes, it's a sad situation, and one that deserves more than just a stigmatized diagnosis. Though the DSM-IV can be helpful in ruling out other disorders that mimic BPD and delineating criteria, its been said that when someone has BPD you will just know.

As someone who was diagnosed with having BPD traits as a young adult, I find myself sympathetically drawn towards people struggling with the disorder. And yes, I've been one of the lucky ones who has been able to "grow out" of the symptoms I had; age and therapy have done wonders to a once unstable shell of a girl who had no sense of self or esteem. But for the people who will struggle until their dying day with BPD, what kind of life will they lead?

Most research says a chaotic one, sometimes plagued with abuse, addiction, self-mutilation, suicide attempts, few to no long lasting relationships, no long term careers, and a consuming feeling of emptiness internally. Just like Jennifer Jason Leigh's character in "Single White Female", a person with BPD never reached the point in their child development when they were able to explore their own identity. So, they often have to mimic others, or become chameleon like and "take on" the traits of those around them. If you notice someone becoming really close to you, really quickly, and suddenly adopting your style or quirks...take a closer look at what else is going on with them. Do they have angry outbursts? Are they ever reckless with things like drug abuse, stealing, lying, promiscuity? Do they seem to hate being alone? Do they push you away with bitchy attitude, saying hurtful things one moment, and then apologizing excessively only a few hours later? (Only to repeat the cycle when you get too close?) Of course, it's not your responsibility to diagnose them, in fact that's when things can get ugly (so please don't try)...but to have some background info can be helpful in creating compassion and awareness.

More than anything, people with BPD can't trust. They want to...deeply, painfully want to...but the internal mechanism that develops in early childhood that says "Mommy loves me, whether she is angry or sad or happy...whether she is here or not, she always loves me," never did for them. And so, the next time you hear that someone "is borderline", or has BPD, or exhibits any of the symptoms I've been talking about--take a moment to understand that they might be suffering from an incredibly painful disorder that took root a very long time ago, over which they had no control. Yes, it is their responsibility to get help as an adult. But, the inner tempest swirling around in their minds and bodies can be a strong one, and while it may be easiest to stay the hell away from them (and sometimes that is all you can and should do), take a second look before you judge them as a psycho bitch or a crazy asshole. There's a terrified toddler in there somewhere, searching for mom in everyone's eyes.

TODAY'S ROXY SHOCKS RX: Watch Kari Ann on "Sex Rehab With Dr. Drew" to get an idea of the reason why BPD is so stigmatized.

I Think My Cavity Needs a Fillion.

Yeah, I know. The title isn't too classy for a married woman with a baby. But, hey, it takes a lot for me to throw my modesty aside for a celebrity and claim they're hotter than wax for a Brazilian. I'm not one of those wackadoos who think if I start a celeb fan club I'll have a chance at eternal bliss with Robert Pattinson in cougar heaven. Well, I did grow up nursing massive infatuations with Steve Martin and Elvis Presley...but one was dead before I was even born, and the other was a middle-aged recluse when I began pseudo-stalking him. Wanting to live in eternal bliss with Steve in totally inappropriate adolescent heaven was an innocent goal, especially since Steve became more of a muse than a love object as I got older. (I hate that word. Muse. It just sounds so sophistimacated and junk.)

I've never had an full-on adult celebrity crush. That is, until I saw The Fillion. In hopes of not getting into weird stalker-esque detail about why the man is hot and brilliant, I'll leave it at this: Serenity. Slither. Castle. Dr. Horrible. Watch them and just try not to drool.

But I'm not that much of a pervy housewife; I think one of the biggest reasons I dig on The Fillion is because he resembles my hunktastic husband Glenn.

Speaking of filling my cavities, Lucy is teething. She's got her first little nugget of white sharpness rearing itself in her lower gums. And she ain't none too happy, no sir. I'm talkin' up-all-nite-crying-all-day-inconsolable teething. There comes a moment each day when she musters up the energy to look up at us with bloodshot eyes, sniffing up little snotlets, her tiny head shaking with exhaustion from wailing incessantly...anyway, there comes a moment each day when she looks at us as if to say "How dare you people. How could you put this in my life? I will never, ever see you the same way again."

And there's only 19 more to go. For now. Joy.

TODAY'S ROXY SHOCKS RX: Appreciate that you're done teething. Go eat an apple and be smug.

Horatio Caine Has Invaded My Brain.

As I sit here with my beautiful rugrat Lucy by my side, I ponder the important things in life, like: "What will her first word be?", "How will I afford a college fund for her," and "When will she fall asleep so I can catch up on the crazy CSI trilogy that's been connecting the three different CSI units in Miami, Vegas and NY?"

And then, I feel a twinge of guilt, knowing that I--someone who is well versed in the importance of object relations and attachment theory--would stoop to prioritize CSI On Demand over her daughter.

But, there's gotta be a time in the day when, between work, school, exercise, cooking, cleaning, husband, friends...a woman can say, without hesitation: "I've spent the last two weeks up late with my child, lovingly feeding, changing, burping and bonding with her. If CSI happens to be on during these late-night moments of mother and child connection, so be it. And if I need to see what happens because it's been "To Be Continued" for three weeks, then SO BE IT. Yes, maybe the writing isn't fantastic with this three part episode series, but come ON. Seeing Fishburne, Caruso and Sinise on the same screen for even an instant makes me get a strange thrill of satisfaction that can only come from knowing you've invested time not in life and loved ones, but in a 24 inch box that glows."

Afterall, can't I be a "good enough" mother (ala the wonderful Winnicott) while crushing on Jorja Fox a little?

TODAY'S ROXY SHOCKS RX: Watch CSI (Vegas, the OG) on Spike, USA or any other channel that airs it ad nauseum. If you really want to enjoy the series, you gotsa see the Grissom/Sidle romance that was always worth watching.

The Shocks Doc Is In...Sane!

Greetings boys and ghouls,

Allow me the cliche opportunity to introduce myself. I've been known in some circles as a sometimes scary, sometimes sexy, always psycho burlesque performer, Roxy Shocks:The San FranPsycho Treat. I began my burly career in 2003 in Seattle as a "Gun Street Girl", then in 2004 some of us disbanded and formed "Glitzkrieg" (a few of us were Jewish and planned to counter any un-PC name protest with our heritage...turned out no one really gave a rat's ass). Then I began solo acts in San Francisco in venues such as The Fillmore, 12 Galaxies, Bill Graham Civic Auditorium and The Make-Out Room, to name just a few. My home has always been SF, and after three long ass years being on the brink of soul death in Los Angeles, I'm pleased to claim my new home as being back in NorCal. Hella pleased.

The other half of me is dedicated to psychology; I earned my MS in Counseling a few years back, and I'm working on my PsyD as we speak (in a great program with a kickass cohort). If all goes as planned, I'll be a doctor of psychology next year. I'm obsessed with the human mind, behavior and pathology, and base my burlesque alter ego on Jungian "shadow" work I've done. Shadow work is my passion, and involves looking at all the dark, freaky shit that we'd rather throw in our "do not disturb" pile on the backburners of our minds. Or in some cases, it's the stuff that nightmares are made of. If we don't embrace our Shadows, they'll embrace us...if you get my drift. It's no coincidence that the things about other people that drive us the most insane are the very same parts of our personality that we don't wanna look at. Like, the politician who so adamantly opposes gay marriage and gets on his high horse about "saving family values" is the very same politician who hires gay prostitutes on the side for BJs and meth. Yep, no happenstance there.

And so, on this journey to Doctor Shockshood, I've decided to include you all with me. All three of you. Hi, mom. Hi, hubby. Hi, myself as I'm reading this again later looking for spelling mistakes like the obsessive-compulsive paranoid ritualist I am.

I'll be posting upcoming show dates, upcoming projects I'm working on (a book and podcast in the works right now), ramblings about current goings on in this madcap world we live in, random stuff about me, but mostly lots of psychology talk -- personality disorders, colon detoxification therapy, positive psychology, alcoholism, panic attacks, music therapy, codependence, sex addiction, attachment theory-- if it's therapy related, I'm on it. All that and more...with my impassioned, twisted, dare I say unique SHOCKS THERAPY take on all of it. Like I said, I've spit fake blood and killed myself onstage for six years and counting. Oh, and last year I pretended to masturbate with a crucifix onstage for my "Exorcist" act with my husband as the priest...and didn't know I was pregnant at the time. Yeah, I have a six month old daughter, too. I'm not your average therapist.

And if what I say or do concerns, disgusts or perplexes you, remember: embrace that Shadow, baby. We all have Light and Dark aspects within us. We can't be sunshine and smiles all the time. Being perpetually pleasing is painful, painstaking, and dishonest, and we know it. Many of us would like to believe (and portray) that we're perfect angels with no secrets or "bad" thoughts. But, we're human; We're primal underneath all that learned civility. We can and should be polite, kind and responsibile. But where is all that other junk and unpleasantness we carry to go? I say be creative with it. Hurt no one, but embrace it and shed some light and awareness on it...then it's no longer so scary. Shadow work can be pretty awesome, actually.

So thanks for joining me! Hope to be spitting stage blood on you someday soon. That, or helping you process the trauma from being spit blood on by some freaky woman at this weird burlesque show you made the mistake of attending.

TODAY'S ROXY SHOCKS RX:
Go check out this awesome San Francisco troupe I perform with! Voted "Best of the Bay" Burlesque HUBBA HUBBA REVUE!

My next show: MARCH 2010; Hubba Hubba Revue, DNA Lounge, SF!