The Write Woman Creates “Tiffney meets Michelle” (57 Days Remaining)

Here’s a tidbit of information for those a bit unfamiliar with a recovering amnesiac -- in addition to forgetting what you may know with anterograde and retrograde amnesia, additionally there is no idea who you are—this includes the appropriate way to present yourself. Sure, you have work and “artifacts” surrounding you that you have touched or perhaps made, but these are all foreign to you now. This is a big deal for career searching, which is where I am with my graduation right around the corner. I’m just extraordinarily grateful I’m able to retain information enough to establish decent grades. I also write everything down out of habit.

Forgetting (July 24, 2007) Wikimedia

Immediately following the amnesia, I needed to work so I could support myself. Sure, I was staying with my family for a while, but I was an adult and needed to get out on my own. What does someone do for a living to pay the bills when unable remember anything? Art! Art is always from the point-of-view of the artist. Since my mother enrolled me in dance classes from the time I was four up through junior high, I figured I ought to get something out of it, so I did. I made good money at exotic dancing, too. My stage name was Tiffney Johansen. Tiffney was not at all like my Michelle personality, which is my actual name and the unyielding title I struggled to achieve, "Like unto God."

Growing up, Michelle was told when to eat, sleep, and hand over her babysitting money. My parents did nice things for me once in a while, but it never made up for what my expectations of myself should have been, as well as what I needed as a person from others. I was taught self-sacrifice to a fault. I was never taught fighting for what should have been mine, but punished for attempting it.

Galilla, (2014) Chaps, Flickr

As an entertainer it didn’t take me long to lose the church attire and throw on a sequined bra and panties. Along with a couple of drinks the first few times and a couple of animal print dresses I was a shimmering, yet clandestine, hit. I figured out that who I was onstage was whomever I decided to be, and people accepted my self-identification. Within a month my clothes were predominantly black leather and metal-heeled stilettos, occasionally with spiked chokers. I was a mean bitch that nobody messed with, including men. For a while, Jerry Nelson’s club Paradise didn’t have a bouncer so I handled all the discrepancies for my fellow dancers. I was a good enough dancer I competed in a Las Vegas dancing contest as Cat Woman. Even though I didn't win against the top national dancers and Canada's finest, I learned about the real work that goes into these competitions. What I learned more than that was that it was okay to not be reliant on men for everything. My mother had been wrong all these years. I could be independent after all. I gave up dancing after getting my wits about me and moved into a new line of “respectable” work—nearly a decade later.

Unfortunately when I changed back to my “normal” life, my normal instincts also returned. I again became reliant on men and soon married. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying I’m against relationships—I’m most certainly not. But what I am against is unhealthy relationships. Girls, you don’t need them to be complete. Get where you feel complete and then get into a relationship—don’t give someone you love an unfinished product. Feel complete and then grow even more in the same direction. Be able to be independent together after you're finished with your education.

The other day, I saw a televised show with Howie Mandel experiencing hypnosis, and my children and I discussed the process of how it works. No one can hypnotize people into doing things they normally wouldn’t do, but the hypnotist does something more powerful by speaking to the

Hypnotic Spiral (26, August 2014) Wikipedia

subconscious. This way, they’re re-emphasizing a thought or feeling that’s already in existence and pre-approved by the subject. The only reason I am aware of this is because in high school, I volunteered to be hypnotized, determined to prove his farce. After fully acknowledging to my friends that I was completely aware of what he expected, I waited for him to touch his tie. When he did, I recalled I was supposed to “jump out of my seat,” along with another kid. I also knew I wasn't about to be a laughing stock. As he spoke, he teased the audience by nearing his tie with his hand, but gathered chuckles of anticipation when he didn’t touch it. My friends waited with eager expectation, and staring at me. When he touched it, I knew I must remain in my seat because he had instructed me to feel a charge of electricity when he did. I held onto the arms of my chair, more eager than ever to outdo the entertainer. It didn’t work. I shot out of the chair as if tiny magnets above me pulled on my skin until my feet left the floor. Not at all painful, but absolutely a surge of extreme energy forcing me out of my seat.

Now you’re probably wondering what the hell stripping, relationships, and hypnosis have in common? At the risk of sounding self-centered, they all have me in common. I’ve decided in order for the success I deserve to be granted, I need to change my personality to the strong and durable Tiffney the exotic dancer, and Michelle the loving mother, into cerebrally diverse MJ, the reinforced and confident mentor. Besides the amnesia clearing my mental slate I have new tools I can use to redefine myself now. Please don’t misunderstand me, the 20-some odd years it’s taken to recuperate, if given a choice, is absolutely not the worthy of the mental hell I’ve been through. I’m definitely more respectful of the no-holds-barred personality I’ve become due to the tragedy—and believe me when I say it was a tragedy. Starting all over when your mind can't grasp anything isn't a good time.

I’m too advanced in age to spare time in making errors now. So what I’ve done is ordered a book entitled, “E-Squared: Nine Do-It-Yourself Energy Experiments that Prove Your Thoughts Create Your Reality.” Although there are skeptics out there, because there always are, I’ll let you know what my results are after I read the book and begin processing myself. Out of 2,689 reviews, Pam Grout's book receives 4 ½ stars, which is noteworthy. It should arrive soon! (Trying, unsuccessfully, to hide my enthusiasm.) Perhaps one day I'll make a movie about this, but it's highly unlikely as grasping the reality is far to frustrating for me still.

Meanwhile, my daughter and I went to see Inside Out the other day and it was pretty cute. I got a little bored, but then I’ve already lived the growing up lessons displayed. Still it was great recognizing the voices of the characters from shows I’ve seen. She's eight and she totally loved it! This weekend we’re going to see The Minion Movie. If you’d care to see the reviews of the newer movies, always check my LinkedIn site; for older shows you can refer to my Friday Night Reviews page.