SoapZone Community Message Board

I've never understood the appeal of trolling. Firmly stating an opposing opinion, absolutely. But as I understand the term, "trolling" is done when you deliberately wish to provoke someone to anger and my oh so non-confrontational self cannot relate <g>.

As long as it's not something that could get you fired (unless you hate your job and want to be fired).

I didn't realize those were unpopular opinions per se. I don't follow the Royal Family much but the few comments I've seen have mostly been pro-Wales and pro-Megan/anti-Harry (and I thought everyone loved Di?)

I admit I *adore* a good comments section. On a related note, while I wouldn't say I do it for mental health, I cannot get enough of the "Am I the A-hole?" forums. My favorites are either the ones where the person is OBVIOUSLY the AH but is absolutely clueless as to why or the ones where it seriously could go either way. Unfortunately, those are both uncommon. The majority of the people asking if they're the AH are not only absolutely NOT the AH but IMO *know* they're not the AH but need people on social media to validate them and reassure them that they're SO not the AH.

Maybe the weirdest thing I do for my mental health these days is occasionally talk to, and even pet, a stuffed animal. When I was a child, I was more into stuffed animals than dolls (I wanted to be a vet until I realized that meant being around sick and hurting animals and even occasionally having to help them cross the rainbow bridge). Some time in my early teens, I gave away the vast majority of my stuffed animals and in my early 20s or so, I decided stuffed animals were "childish" and gave away the rest of them. I only ever had one "special" stuffed animal as a kid: a pink teddy bear that Dad brought back for me from a business trip when I was about 2. I uncreatively named him "Pinky the Texas Teddy Bear" (because the trip was to Houston...or was it Dallas?) and I loved him till he fell apart. Since my 20s, I've occasionally had small stuffed animals that were more decorative than anything; they mostly sat on shelves collecting dust and I only had them because a friend of mine still adores stuffed animals and still, at almost 60, sleeps with one at night.

Anyways...last year at a neighbor's garage sale, I spied this guy He still has his tags on him and has obviously never been played with; he's in mint condition. I weirdly felt bad for him. I had a few items in the garage sale myself, and when I went back to get my (meager amount of) money and collect what didn't sell, my neighbor told me I was welcome to anything else that didn't sell. The poor mountain lion was still sitting on a table, almost by himself. Other, rougher-looking stuffed animals had sold so I was surprised he hadn't. Maybe it's because the way the "fur" hangs over his eyes, he has a slightly worried look. Maybe parents didn't think they should give their child an anxious stuffed kitty. I took the stuffed mountain lion with every intention of donating him to a toy drive our community police hold every Christmas.

And then...I didn't.

I can't even explain why I still have him. He sits on top of my jewelry armoire and I tell him he's "guarding my jewels". When I need one of my rings out of the top of the armoire, I carefully move him to the bed and tell him he's going for a ride. Sometimes I smooth the fur over his eyes and scratch him under his chin. And once in a great while, I think to myself...he looks happier somehow? Then I think about the toys on the Island of Misfit Toys from the Christmas special Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer or the toys from the Toy Story movies and I start wondering if he IS happier?

And then I remember that I'm hurtling towards 60 and don't believe in stuffed animals coming to life and having feelings. But I think this stuffed mountain lion--which I've never named (because why would I? I'm not keeping him...)--makes me kind of happy when I'm smoothing the fur over his eyes and scratching him under the chin.