| Lisa ArdenMensa Mensa Member #100269932 In the last years of her life, after my mother stopped finding solace and escape in liquor, membership in Mensa became her crutch, and the one thing it was imperative everyone she met knew about her. She proudly wore her Mensa pin everyday like a coat of arms of validation. Her beauty might have long since faded, and she certainly wasn’t fabulously rich anymore, but…she Was a Genius, and that couldn’t ever be taken away from her. My mother, my sister, and I all took the Mensa test in 1979 or 1980. I did so only because they had first, and had passed. I joined Mensa simply because the thought of them lording their brainpower over me would have been unacceptable. I wasn’t looking for anything, per se. Unlike my mother, I am not a “joiner”, I am not social, and I definitely don’t need to feel like I am part of any group. In fact I have never joined any club, or membership organization before in my life. Further, although many people I’ve met in life might have formed a negative impression/opinion of me, I am confident I have encountered few who needed to be told I was very intelligent. So what then, you might wonder, prompted me to finally take advantage of Mensa's myriad solicitations/invitations and renew my membership for the first time since 1980? First, this email: Subject: Mensa Notices: Tell us your story! Dear Lisa, Like all the individually brilliant pieces that make up a gorgeous mosaic, Mensa is made up of myriad interesting members from all walks of life. You know — you were one of them. Why did you join Mensa originally? What were you looking for? American Mensa is running a national ad campaign right now that highlights why people join Mensa. We're featuring both men and women from all walks of life who have a story to tell — and everyone loves a good story. For instance, there's Sophia Danenberg, who was the first and only African American woman to have summited (BTW, There is no such word as summited, fellow Mensans)Mount Everest yet still wanted to meet new, intellectually stimulating people in Mensa, or there's John Booras, attorney and accomplished public speaker who really wanted to meet a group of people who shared his love of games. Then, perhaps most importantly, there's you. What's your Mensa story? We'd be thrilled to have you back as a member, and we'd love to hear what you have to say. If we like your story, you could even be featured in a future ad. So come on, renew your membership and tell us. Visit www.us.mensa.org/renew?ID=100269932 or call us at 888/294-8035 ext. 199 during regular business hours. Once you've renewed, we hope you'll share your story and news about your life and activities by visitingwww.us.mensa.org/membernews. We can't wait to add your piece of the mosaic back into the larger picture! I have a story, have written about it, and need as many people as is possible to read it. Unfortunately, it is nothing like John Booras’ or Sophie Dannenberg’s, and probably wouldn’t be good material for a commercial. I have also been a loner, and since my grandmother, who lived with me for the last 7 years of her life died in 2003, I have been a virtual hermit. I have worked at home for the last 7 years and in large part because of this have no friends, or even many acquaintances. My mother has been dead for 25 years, my father for 30 years. I am estranged from all of my half siblings. I am quite alone, which is usually fine, but now, I desperately need support, and I hope to find that amongst those with whom I definitely have something in common; Mensans. Further, most of the people who I hope will read this memoir will have never met me, and might conceivably think I am pretty damn stupid. My ego simply isn't going for that. For once in my life, I feel like I need some third party verification that mo matter what my other shortcomings, I am no intellectual dummy. If any of the recipients of this email believe that we are indeed all part of a gorgeous mosaic, and that our intelligence somehow binds us together and makes us kindred, I would humbly implore you to read my just published Memoir, and ask your friends to do so as well. In 1998-1999, I wrote the first draft, and attempted to get it published. At that time, a very well regarded literary agent in N.Y.C. told me that if I could come up with a happy ending, I might have a best seller. Since it is about my life, I couldn’t really fabricate that fairy tale conclusion, so I figuratively shelved the manuscript for a later day. Then, as my self induced drug haze continued to lift, and clarity returned to my brain, I realized it might be very harmful for my niece and nephew for it to be published. I love them both deeply and hurting either of them is the last thing I have ever wanted to do. Now they are older, and hopefully can cope because it has recently become very important, and urgent, for me to tell my story now, and have as many people as is possible hear/read it. My motivations are: to attain some kind of nebulous expiation, the hope that someone, somewhere, might identify and think twice about engaging in similar self-destructive behaviors and mistakes as did I, and, since I pride myself on being brutally honest, financial profit. If any of the recipients of this email believe that we are indeed all part of a gorgeous mosaic, and that our intelligence somehow binds us together and makes us kindred, I would humbly implore you to read my just published Memoir, and ask your friends and other Mensa members to do so as well. “When you are insane, you are busy being insane - all the time... When I was crazy, that's all I was.” - Sylvia Plath “But what pray tell happens when you stop being insane, but can’t escape from the legacy?” – Lisa Arden I have always been incredibly optimistic and tenacious. For most of my life, I believed in myself unflaggingly, and was sure I could eventually overcome all obstacles and triumph at anything I attempted. If I had to describe myself in one word, it would certainly be Survivor. I hate whiners, quitters and those with victim mentalities. However, in the last two years things have transpired in my life that have caused me to slowly but surely start to lose that most precious of commodities, hope, and when hope goes, despair and defeat soon take its’ place. For the second time I had cancer, and had to have part of my right hand amputated, I have COPD, my most beloved kitty; Peanut, died at age 18, my beagle died, I lost my business, had to declare bankruptcy, was forced to move from a house which I loved and had lived in for 5 years, and most devastating of all, after almost 10 years of not seeing her, I was reunited with my sister and subsequently forced to acknowledge she simply does not love me. I have been under so much stress, for so long, that the physical effects have become positively debilitating. I literally believe that I will probably die soon from acute adrenal and emotional fatigue if I don’t find imminent relief. Until I saw a segment on the news about Cortisol disorders in women, I thought I might be suffering from early onset Alzheimers, in addition to the general physical malaise I already knew was a result of unrelenting high level stress. I am exhausted when I awaken, my posture has been affected...I often walk like an old, old stooped over woman, and sometimes I just can not seem to breath properly, or focus my brain. I generally feel like I am half dead, and the other half is not far behind > really. I am not depressed, per se, just cumulatively exhausted and drained. I am having great difficulty writing this letter even though I know how important it is. I make sure I take an aspirin every morning because I am afraid my heart may just stop, and I have a responsibility to my animals to either stay alive and take care of them, or be able to make adequate provisions for their future, which I currently cannot. I don’t believe in suicide, and I don’t particularly want to die, but I am getting very tired of living. I am SO disgusted and disappointed in myself for wanting to give up. My parents both died at age 60. I am 58, and every day I feel more sure I will beat them to the grave. My situation is truly dire. This Memoir is my only chance to salvage the time I have left. Again, I ask for your support. Help me please. Read my book: I thank you for your time, and apologize for the invasion of your privacy. Cordially, Lisa Arden |
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