About tjumps

Tressa Jumps is the Director of Marketing and Public Relations at Glendale Community College.

Oatmeal & Emotional Health

Healthy Oatmeal BreakfastI hate oatmeal.

I was raised to eat oatmeal. It’s what I know. I still hate it though. So when I make an effort to eat healthy, I go right to oatmeal for breakfast and end up hating Every. Single. Minute. Of. It.

I have a very wise friend who has a Ph.D. in health and nutrition so I learn all I can from her. I soak up her knowledge (while silently envying her rock-star abs and arms). She’s been to school for nutrition; she’s dedicated to health; she exercises her muscles and practices what she preaches. Recently, she said, “You’re so mentally healthy; surely you have bad days right?” Of course I do! Just like some days she eats a big greasy hamburger and potato chips. Much like physical health, mental and emotional health is a muscle that needs to be exercised. Her “bad health” days are further apart than mine and she knows the right tools to get back on track. Conversely, my “bad emotional days” are further apart and they don’t send me into a tailspin of regret and depression any more. The difference: time, motivation, resources, practice and discipline. Continue reading

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My Cup Runneth Over (kinda)…

I recently took the full series of courses from Stephen Covey and his habits of highly effective people. I’m not a patient person who enjoys long stints in a classroom, meeting or even the dinner table. I often get up and wander around, doodle or make my grocery list just to pass the time. Having said that, there were some good points I could take from the lecture series – both personally and professionally.

One of those areas was the idea of “emotional deposits and withdrawals.” This wasn’t a new idea, as I previously knew this as filling your cup up until it flows over into someone’s cup, thus paying it forward. Now, I want to suggest these are “absolutes” of behavior and acceptability. I vow to not accept withdrawals and to actively and conscientiously “fill ‘er up” for the people in my life whom I love and respect. Continue reading

Showing Up for Your Own Life

Remember the last family gathering you had? You know, the one that exhausted you and made you want to just go home and read instead. We all fall into “roles” in our family. Because we’re all human and no one is perfect, many families are dysfunctional. That doesn’t have to mean there was rampant, obvious abuse — often dysfunction inside of a family is extremely covert. So sly are these dysfunctional relationships that you’re simply left with a feeling of hurt, confusion and exhaustion after that oh-so-fun holiday gathering. Continue reading

Score: Me, 0; You: 100

I used to tell myself the reason I can’t wear skinny jeans is because I’m still carrying baby weight. My baby is nearly 7 years old. So really, it could’ve been that massive chicken & cheese burrito I’d been eating regularly that left me with creases on my waist from my jeans by the end of the day.

I used to tell myself that my kid just has more “spirit” than other kids when I really wished she’d just sit still for one flippin’ minute like those other sweet kids at Barnes & Noble reading hour instead of trying to scale a bookshelf. Continue reading

Getting off the Crazy Train

She lays on the bed, doubled over, holding her stomach. Her hair is matted a little on one side. It hurts to move, yet she’s strangely numb. The nausea is so bad she can’t eat or drink. Her eyes are swollen nearly shut. She sweats when she thinks about her addiction and her body reacts to the mere thought of the drug. Her eyes are lifeless and dilated. Her body aches. She can’t sleep, but when she does, she can’t surface. When she thinks about it, she panics. What will happen now? She can’t live like this; it’s hurt too badly. She tried to quit once before but the pain was so intense she couldn’t handle it. The wave of depression and robotic movements threatened to swallow her whole.  If only she could end it. She knew it was wrong but couldn’t stop from riding the train one more time. Everyone knew. Everyone watched her waste away. But the fix was pure pleasure. She couldn’t get enough, constantly clawing for more as her body adjusted its need for consumption. Now, the drug is inaccessible. It’s been too long and too much is at stake. She frantically searches for some way to get it back. Her eyes widen briefly with hope at one last chance for relief, but the drug isn’t there any more. It’s gone. And there are no more chances. No more choices. The knowledge brings a fresh wave of hell. Her drug is him…. Continue reading