Challenge Day Three (part two)- Something with Which I Struggle

I did not feel like writing about struggling yesterday, but I actually do today.  Every body struggles, so what's the big deal with writing about ones personal struggle, except for that whole icky vulnerable feeling that results from exposing oneself.

One of my favorite quotes is, "Everyone you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about.  Be kind."  In my experience, this is true.  Every.single.person. I know a lot of people who have big and sometimes heartbreaking struggles.  I know one young lady who has rheumatoid arthritis at the age of 20.  I have several friends who are guiding their kids through difficult challenges.  Some of them are raising kids by themselves while working full-time jobs. I have friends who have battled cancer and won, yet still have to look over their shoulder for any recurrence.  I have friends whose mothers have cancer, and they are working their way through that difficult journey. Watching them fight through their challenges is so inspiring to me, and makes me realize that mine aren't as big as they sometimes seem to me.  My life in general is full of blessings that far outweigh what I am going to write about here. With that said, here I go.

My challenge is really... myself.  Managing myself, that is.  I've written about it in here before, but I struggle with keeping the chemicals in my brain balanced.  Between hormonal shifts and seasonal changes, I tend to be up and down a lot.

I am pretty balanced for a couple weeks every month.  Some months I stay balanced longer than other months.  I feel good without even trying.  I am more outgoing, and socializing comes naturally to me.  I smile more and people reflect that back to me.  I like to think that this is who I really am.  BUT, the other part of the month always shows up, even as I pray the good times will never end.  It comes with different intensities, but it always comes.  If you look up PMDD, it will describe a lot of what I am going to talk about here.  This isn't just a pms thing, it's something that takes over my life for weeks at a time, every month.

Although anxiety is the main issue I will talk about here, I also experience major loss of interest in pretty much all areas of life.  Total lack of motivation and concentration.  I've even experienced dizziness so bad that I have had to pull over while driving (that happened last February, a particularly brutal month).  There are times I just feel.so.very.angry, and so on edge that something as small as the television being too loud will make me feel like losing it.  I get crazy migraine head aches some months.  I have other physical symptoms too, but they are nothing compared to where I go in my head during the bad weeks.  The world smiles back at me during my good weeks, and then world also has a way of reflecting all of my swirling difficult emotions during the bad weeks.

I know that it probably is confusing to the people I am around the most- my friends at the hall, probably even work.  Smiling doesn't come as naturally because of the brain fog that shows up (once again in different intensities).  Socializing, especially with large groups, becomes almost painful.  Being in enclosed places with large groups of people gets really hard.  Going to the mall or the store loses any enticement. I try to go on weekday mornings, if possible, because there won't be as many people there. If I do have to go, my heart is usually racing.  Eye contact makes it worse so I tend to stare straight ahead or at the floor (this last month when I had to do some last minute school shopping with Kloe, I intentionally didn't wear my glasses or contacts, and it really helped).  Sometimes (like a slightly crazy person), I hum softly to myself because it helps me calm down.  I intentionally take deep calming breaths, and that seems to help too.  But mostly, I get in and out of the store as soon as possible.

Going to the hall for meetings can be hard too.  While I very much want to be there, when it is over and every one is standing and there is the buzz of voices all around, I start to feel a bit panicky.  I want Derrick and the kids to be able to talk to everyone so I don't want to rush them out, so there are quite a few times I will bolt to the car and wait for them.  I know it makes me look very antisocial (probably because it IS antisocial).

For the last two weeks I was in that bad part of the month and could hardly make it five minutes in the hall after meeting. This week I am back on the good two weeks and last night I stayed for awhile after meeting and chatted with no anxiety (although I still couldn't stay long because I had some things I had to get done at home)- just like that.  Once again, this all hits with varying intensities each month.  Some months the anxiety is completely manageable, and it doesn't disrupt how I interact socially as much.  It's very unpredictable.
 
Being like this is hard on my relationships.  Not so much with my family and super close friends, because they understand I am doing the best I can and they choose to love me in spite of it.  It's more with friends that maybe don't know me as well, because it's not something I just talk about all of the time (although apparently I do write about it!)

So, I am extremely cyclical throughout my weeks.  Now add in the cycle of seasons.  Winter almost sends me over the edge.  I feel like I am hanging on to my sanity by my fingernails by the end of it.

I do everything I can to manage all of this. Some things I've tried have helped, some not so much.

I went to a doctor to balance my hormones for quite awhile.  Even though I took tons of pills (bovine in nature, supposed to replace missing hormones), used progesterone creme, took a gaba supplement and 5htp to control the anxiety, I didn't feel the results justified the crazy cost.  I'm disenchanted with the medical community as a whole when it comes to hormone issues with women.  I've told every doctor I have been to about how this just takes over my life, and how unbearable it can be.  They look at me, see a woman who is physically healthy as far as they can see, and then they treat it as just one of those things a woman has to live with.  No big deal.  Grr.  I feel like besides message boards full of other women going through this, I mostly am going to have to keep trying to figure it out myself.  I've toyed with the idea of taking birth control pills again (it helps some women), but am a little scared because I had such a violent reaction to them before.

There are some things that have helped though.  I am extremely regular with exercise- even though I have fallen temporarily off of the running wagon, I am still a regular at the gym.  I try to eat healthily.  Not perfect, by any means, but reasonable.  I try to stay in a positive frame of mind and surround myself with awesome people (and there are a lot of you), and even in my darker times I try to stay connected.  I go to the meetings regularly, fighting that voice that is telling me to stay home.  I keep going to work- very rarely do I call in sick or let myself off of the hook.  I fight through the bad days, and do my best to ignore the anxiety.  I take medication which actually has been helping quite a bit.  I try very hard not to take it out on my family and friends, even if it means hiding out in my room when I'm feeling unreasonably agitated; a healthy family is completely essential to my frame of mind.  One of the best things I ever did for myself was to marry a very supportive man.  His kindness and understanding during the bad times take a huge amount of the stress off of my shoulders.  I've also tried hard to develop a separate voice of reason that is as detached from my emotions as possible. It doesn't make the feelings go away, but it helps me to manage my reactions to life a little better, and to have some discernment as to what would normally bother me versus my current feelings toward a situation.  I'm not always 100% successful with that one, but I seem to be getting better at it as time goes on.

The most frustrating part of this, is that I've been like this as long as I can remember.  I know how to manage myself better than I used to, but I haven't been able to make it go away.  And the really sucky part as a woman, is it probably isn't EVER going to go away.  As time goes on, it will just morph into some other, equally difficult thing to manage.

So, there you have it.  This isn't something I like to talk or write about all of the time, because I don't want it to have any bigger claim on my mind and life than it already has.  It is my biggest goal to be a positive person.  I want to be a positive presence in my kids lives, Derrick's life, my sister and dad's lives, and my friends lives.  Even though this is something I will always be dealing with, it is not who I am, and it is my goal is to still act like who I really am regardless of what is going on inside.

Camping at Painted Rock

“I like living. I have sometimes been wildly, despairingly, acutely miserable, racked with sorrow, but through it all I still know quite certainly that just to be alive is a grand thing.”—-Agatha Christie

Gah.  It is July 26th, a day that by it's sheer placement on the seasonal calender should be a feel good day. I, however, am stuck on my own personal calender of ups and downs which has declared that I will not enjoy it.  Feeling edgy and generally irritated both emotionally and physically.  It even hurt too much to brush my hair this morning.  It's one thing to be a moper during winter; heck, you are just joining the crowd on those days.  It feels recklessly wasteful on a summer day like this, however.  And yet, here I am.

Catching Rays and Reading

So, to get off of that downward train of thought, I will now think of only happy-ness. 



I'll start with last weekends camping foray.  We had such a nice time.  We went to the Painted Rock area (about two hours from here, on the other side of Darby).  There was an icy creek there that the men and kids spend hours reshaping with dams built from fallen logs.

The kids (and grown ups more adventurous than me)spent their time  floating up and down the creek on the myriads of tubes we'd all brought, and playing on the tiny sandy beach.  I spent my time down there catching some sun, chatting, and reading. 

Also spent some time in a lovely hammock.  There are few things are relaxing as rocking gently in a hammock, listening to a chilly stream and the voices of friends and kiddos talking and laughing.

We planned on doing a project with the kids while we were up there- Tie dye T-shirts. It was so fun! I know for a fact that the grown ups had just as much fun with that as the kids did.

They were catching brown trout

Twisting the material for a perdifying effect

Looks like a bucket of organs. huh?

Darby-Do, showing her awesome new shirt!



Oh Yeaaah, He is

EXCITED to be part of this



He did good!

Field of  Drying Tie Dye Shirts

 

Showing off our artistic and peaceful flair.

The Unexpected Beginning

~I always wanted to write this story down for Derrin.  Even though this started with his Dad and myself, it's his story too.~

No one told me that after getting married, my life would turn completely upside down for awhile. Or, maybe they did, but I only heard what I wanted to through my 'love-plugged ears'.

Our First Dance

~.~
We were married in December. We moved an hour and a half away, away from my family. I quit a job I loved, and found a new job at an office doing data entry in an insurance office. I put myself on birth-control pills, as having kids was something for WAY down the road.

We had a plan: Live cheaply, save money, and eventually use all that saved money to travel through Europe together. Maybe not the most grown-up plan, but we were young and that was THE dream. The minute we said "I do", we knew it was just the first step to making the dream happen together.

Only things didn't turn out quite like that dream. The pills made me crabby. REALLY crabby. I was looking at Derrick (who I had known for four years) and wondering WHO IS THIS. It seemed to me that he was spending way too much time playing video games, messing around with his friends (heaven forbid!) and being a drummer in a band (on the weekends, but still WAY too much for my frame of mind). Where were all of the deep conversations I had envisioned, and where were the late nights spent dreaming out loud about our trip to Europe and anything else we wanted the future to hold for us? The more crabby I became with him and the more crazy the pills made me, the more he wondered who HE had married. This girl was mad about everything.

My new job wasn't everything I had hoped for. My new boss gave me more work than I could ever handle, and she was always at my back wanting me to work faster. I had my first migraine a week after I started that job. I'm sure the birth control pills were partially to blame, and the stress didn't help. But the job was going to stay. We were a new, young, married couple with new bills to pay, and we needed my income. Plus my job had an awesome insurance plan. Quitting wasn't an option I gave myself, at least not at that point.

~.~

We limped along kinda miserably for the first three months we were married, and then something COMPLETELY unexpected happened: Guess what Mom and Dad, we're pregnant! Didn't see THAT one coming along, did ya? I'd even been told from three different gynos that conceiving was going to be difficult for me because of a very irregular cycle. The birth control pills must've helped me become all primed and ready for motherhood.

I brought the stick test out to Derrick. He grabbed it out of my hands, not comprehending, and then spent the next half-hour reading the directions, trying to make sense of the two lines that meant 'a baby is in your future'.

So, there we were, pregnant after being married for three months. Life just kept moving forward. I still had to get up every day and go to work, only now I got to be there with morning sickness.  I'd have to call in sick sometimes.  My boss would demand I make up any missed time on weekends. I lived for the two fifteen minute breaks we were given and lunch time (a whole hour!). I'd make my way out to my car, lay down and gratefully pass out.

7 Week Embreyo

So, that was my life. Get up, go to work, and count the minutes until I could leave again. Go to work whether I was sick or not. We REALLY needed the insurance that that point. I felt trapped by the situation.

Most people start to feel better around three months- not me. I slugged along. I just assumed this was what being pregnant was like. My gyno didn't seem too concerned. My boss didn't cut me any slack. My poor young husband didn't know any better.

At about five months I got even sicker. I was still throwing up, but now I had a horrible cough that I couldn't control, I was feverish off and on, and my energy plummeted further. I'd cough so hard I couldn't catch my breath. Since I needed the job and it's insurance so bad (I thought), I continued to drag myself to the office.
~.~

I kept waiting for someone to tell me what I already knew: I needed to be at home in bed. But no one ever told me that. I needed more alternatives, I needed someone to help me figure it out. But no one did, and I don't remember ever asking for help.  In retrospect, I should have taken action myself- put myself to bed, and made the move to protect my health and my child's health.  I've learned since then that taking care of myself is MY job. 

I hate to think of how I took care of myself through-out that time. My diet was horrible.  I had no concept of nutrition, and honestly I was too far into survivor mode to make the effort I should have to take care of myself and my unborn baby.

My boss decided that instead of data entry, she was going to have me start pulling old files for missing information. That job mostly consisted of moving heavy boxes around to get to the right files. It was a lot of lifting for someone who couldn't hardly sit for 15 minutes without a bathroom break to throw up and have a breakdown.  It definitely wasn't a job for someone obviously struggling with a difficult pregnancy.  I still don't know what she was thinking.  I do know now, after thinking about it for 10 long years, that she was a bully.  An older me wishes I would have stood up for myself.  I say this to my kids all the time now (and I quote Dr. Phil here, in all his glory):  "You teach people how to treat you."  I believe that will all my heart.

~.~

At twenty three weeks we had the ultrasound that told us we were going to have a son. I was happy, but also a little detached- it still didn't feel like it was real. My stomach hadn't really grown that much yet, even by then. It seemed like I was growing everywhere else though. From that point on I watched the bathroom scale climb steadily day by day. I couldn't understand it, because I still wasn't even wearing maternity clothes yet; I was just going up regular sizes at an alarming rate. My hands and feet, and especially my face were getting bigger. I couldn't hardly recognize the girl looking back at me in the mirror. I was still sick, and coughing.

23 Weeks: A BOY!

I don't know if this is a common experience, but the clinic I went to seemed to think that because I was pregnant, I was also over reacting. The feedback from the staff who answered the phone (because the doctor was completely inaccessible) was, "You're pregnant. Of course you feel like crap. Suck it up, Buttercup."

They eventually gave me an inhaler (to help me calm my coughing fits so I could breath again), probably just to get me off of their backs.  Once again, if I was in that situation today, I would have found a clinic willing to treat me as seriously as I deserved to be treated.

~.~

One of the worst things during that time was how out of it I felt. It was like my brain was just GONE. One time I went into a bank intending on withdrawing some money, and they couldn't find my account. I was flustered and frustrated, and they looked and looked but found nothing even close to my name in their computers. I finally looked around and saw a bank sign (after about ten minutes of having them look) and realized that I was in the WRONG BANK. Upon realizing my error, I told the teller I would just come back later, and I squirmed on out.  Now I know that it wasn't just being pregnant that was making my brain shut down.  My body was trying to send me yet another signal that something was very wrong with it.

My mom took me to the mall at 25 weeks to buy me some maternity clothes, even though my stomach wasn't really showing. It made me feel better to at least be wearing clothes that acknowledged I was pregnant and not just getting fat.

When I finally went in for my 26 week doctor's visit, I was at the end of my rope. I was sick: Sick of being fat, sick of work, just plain sick. My list consisted of


My Very Long List of Complaints


My list looks exactly like what you'd find if you were to google 'preeclampsia'. The first thing my doctor had me do after reading my list was take a urine sample. Yep, protein in the urine. My blood pressure was through the roof. Preeclampsia it was.
Continued in next blog...

Being Finite is Lame

It's 9:10 am.  I'm sitting here drinking my coffee, wondering why in the world I feel so anxious. 

I've been off work for almost two weeks now.  If things were going according to plan, I would be rocking life at this exact moment.  Instead I am sitting here completely overwhelmed and kind of sad. 

It's raining again out there, buckets of the stuff.  It's darkish for morning.  I can hear the rain pelting against our roof.  It's so quiet in here. 

I have so much to do.  My house has still not completely recovered from the camping bomb.  I need to reconcile quick books, pick up the mail, and do some business stuff. 

I wanted to run this morning, but running in the rain just isn't as magical to me as it used to be (and that is said with sarcasm). 

I have friends and family I'd really love to be visiting, and I hope that the last couple weeks isn't a preview of this summer, or I'll never get to just take off to be with them. 

And yes, I do realize that I just got to go camping with a bunch of friends this weekend.  But I feel like complaining, and this is MY blog, so complain I will. 

Is it too much to ask for to have infinite time for:  Being with friends and my family, taking pictures, learning to play my guitar better, painting, learning how to make stamped jewelry, working in my yard, blogging, and reading?  And is it so much to ask for the sun to just keep shining and for the darned rain to just go away? 

I don't think so.

...

Ugh.  I am so flat emotionally right now.  It makes it really hard to write about anything.  It makes it hard to do anything, actually.  It's kinda nice out there, the kind of morning I should be excited about a good run.  Instead I am filled with an abundance of 'meh'. 

I was thinking about the friends and family I haven't connected with for a long time.  I didn't mean to, but somewhere along the way I withdrew again.

Wow, really having a hard time stringing sentences together.  Obviously the 'ol brain's not firing so well today.  Writing exposes how well the brain is doing just like running exposes how well the body is doing.  In my case, both seem to be having issues.

And that's all I gots today.

Party-Pooper

Soooo.  I am sitting here, all by my lonesome.  Everyone else is at a wedding reception, friends and family alike.  I'm feeling a little bad about not going.  I didn't feel like it... I know *LAME*

I am so introverted sometimes.  It goes beyond introversion actually.  Sometimes the thought of being around large groups of people is SO overwhelming to me.  I very seldom actually look forward to going to a party. Even when I will know a lot of people at a party (like tonight), I still don't ever really just *want* to go. 

The funny thing is that I did get ready to go to it.  I put on a cute dress, I curled my hair and did my make up with more than the usual care...  I was completely ready to go.  Then as we got closer to the kingdom hall, I just *did not* want to go in.  There were so many cars- I knew it was going to be packed in there.  So, instead Derrick and I messed around in town for a little while, and then went home.  We were planning on going to the reception, but then I didn't go to that either.  Derrick went- I just stayed home by myself.  A lot of times I will go if it's the only way that the kids will get to go, but they were able to have fun without my presence today.

*Sigh*

On the bright side, I did get most of my laundry done.  My house is super clean.  I got to eat ice cream, watermelon and pop corn for dinner, since I was the only one here.  I watched a new documentary about the wealthy in America. 

Oh well.  Someday I might develop the coolness it takes to go to parties.

Crying

“Crying is all right in its way while it lasts. But you have to stop sooner or later and then you still have to decide what to do.”

 C.S. Lewis quote

 

Dr. Suess- My Many Colored Days

I am required by law to post this somewhere on the internet at least once a year.~Rachel

Some days are yellow.  Some are blue.  On different days I'm different too.  You'd be suprised how many ways I change on different colored days.  On bright red days how good it feels to be a horse and kick my heels!  On other days I'm other things.  On bright blue days I flap my wings.  Some days, of course, feel sort of brown.  Then I feel slow and low, low down.  Then comes a yellow day.  And, wheeeeee I am a buzy buzzy bee.  Grey day...  Everything is grey.  I watch.  But nothing moves today.  Then all of a sudden I'm a circus seal!  On my orange days that's how I feel.  Green days.  Deep deep in the sea.  Cool and quiet fish.  That's me.  On purple days I'm sad.  I groan.  I drag my tail.  I walk alone.  But when my days are happy pink it's great to jump and just not think.  Then come my black days.  MAD.  And LOUD.  I howl.  I growl at every cloud. Then comes a mixed-up day.  And WhAM!  I don't know who or what I am!  But it all turns out all right, you see.  And I go back to being... me.

I'm Just A Girl

Today, I think I will hit up one of my favorite pet topics:  The trials and tribulations of being one of the female sort.  I literally (and yes, I MEAN literally... well, somewhere between really meaning it, and using it for emphasis)  feel like I am two people.  Every single month I have about ten days of being this person who is naturally pretty positive and energetic, who can get the job done, whose mind is uncluttered and able to process everything needed to navigate through the day.  Then the "other" one takes over (and who decided she gets the larger piece of the time pie?  Twenty days in her hands is almost enough to RUIN me, because I (the energetic one (yes, this is the THIRD set of parenthesis inside of a parenthesis!!!) who writes this) could do so much more if I had the twenty!).

Holy batman... that last little chunk of words made me dizzy... let's take a moment to process.......

The "other" me gets to feel everything that is emotional.  She has me (as I am in 10 day land right now), in the back of her mind saying,"Come on now, you can do it!  Positive thinking!!  Get out there, go running- that'll make you feel better!  Don't you DARE eat that whole bag of chocolate!!! Get up!  Do something!  ANYTHING!!!"  To which she mainly replies,"Meh."  And does whatever it is that is passing through her progesterone deprived brain, until I can kick up enough guilt to motivate.  It is exhausting to struggle through that kind of apathy.  But I have to do it, or she will win and I'm afraid I would disappear all together into her sea of fatigue.

It is frustrating.  I know that it is all me, and it has taken years to accept that even though I don't like it, this ebb and flow is who I am.  It's easy for me to feel non-accepting of either side.  Through the ten days I feel guilty because I'm just less emotional, and it makes me feel cold-hearted.  Through the twenty days I constantly question how real my feelings are, or if they are just a product of the hormone fairy going a little nuts.  Who is the real me?  How in the world can you be authentic if you don't know who you are going to be from day to day and you have no absolute control over who you are?

But then, another way to look at it as if it is a gift.  It's not easy to be an emotional (read: moody) person, but some parts of the twenty days are good.  It's good to feel things, because it allows you to have empathy for others.  The saying "Your highs are only as good as your lows" rings true for me.  Sometimes it feels like the ten steady days are just a break from the twenty so I can recover before diving back into who I am primarily. 

SO, in conclusion, I better quit blogging and go get some stuff done.  I only have another week before I won't feel like doing any of it again:)

Meh, Some Running Chat, and Priorities. Then Back to Meh.

~Sitting here, with some major writer’s block. Watching some Friends, drinking some coffee. Gonna get some more coffee here in a minute. And then maybe some more. It was hard to wake up this morning. I would have gratefully slept for at least a couple more hours.
~Yesterday was one of the harder ones. Life goes on, whether or not you are sad. This day is better already.  With that being said, it was still at least a productive day- service in the morning, work and then meeting that night.  I'm happy about that- fighting through moods to still be productive is a step forward for me.
~I’ve ran twice this week, and plan on running today and once this weekend. I’m only going two miles at a time right now because: 1) My two week sojourn to my couch has left lingering whispers in my body- they must be exorcised slowly lest the couch wins the battle (of my heart) over the treadmill. 2) Regardless of any appreciation I have for the treadmill… it is a treadmill. Two treadmill miles equal four outside (well, mentally and emotionally anyways). 3) I am just going for consistency at this point. As soon as it clears up and outside is an option again, I’ll up the mileage.
~I was thinking about the local marathon this summer, but we found out our district assembly is the same weekend as the marathon. I’ll just have to find a different run to try this summer.
~I need to work on my priority list anyway. Between running stuff, travel stuff, family stuff, hobby stuff (all of which are very important to me)(this is where I should also add photography stuff*can't believe I forgot that!*, and um housework and grocery shopping stuff.  Haha:), it can be a little too easy to not stay as focused on the most important of all spiritual stuff. It is so hard to be balanced!! I’m sure that it will always be that way. It must just be a human thing.
~That is about it for this morning.  My brain no so good at the moment.  Maybe the running will shake some life back into it.

pri·or·i·ty
/praɪˈɔrɪti, -ˈɒr-/[prahy-awr-i-tee]   noun

1.the state or quality of being earlier in time, occurrence, etc.

2.the right to precede others in order, rank, privilege, etc.; precedence.

3.the right to take precedence in obtaining certain supplies, services, facilities, etc., esp. during a shortage.

4.something given special attention.–adjective

5.highest or higher in importance, rank, privilege, etc.: a priority task.

~Creative Negativity~

• I hate snow. Anomosity between myself and snow is not unusual.
• I hate rain. There is no love lost between myself and rain.
• I hate winter. I find winter to be an abomination.
• I hate being cold. I loathe being cold.
• I hate gray skies.  I find gray skies to be repulsive.
• I hate that it's only half way through December.  I deplore that it's only half way through December.
• I hate my inability to hibernate. I object to my inabilty to hibernate.
• I hate the wet, slushy/slippery roads outside that make my treadmill a necessity.  I'm disgusted by the wet, slushy/slippery roads that make my treadmill a necessity.
• I hate my treadmill.  I harbor wicked thoughts toward my treadmill.
• I (still) hate sharing the road (especially in winter) with other drivers. It grieves me to share winter roads with other drivers.
• I hate that last weekend is over.  I'm bitter that last weekend is over.

It will get better

I should not be allowed to be around people today.   My short-term memory is non-existent, my verbal filter is letting "facts" be released that don't quite make it very high on the accuracy scale.  My ability to retain anything today without inserting my own weirdness into it is just not there.

Darn you office stapler that I am unable to fix today.  Next week when my brain works again, you will submit to me!!!

This has been a weird week.  I posted in here on Wednesday about being sad that day, but then I deleted it.  I hate being a Debbie-downer.  I fight sadness pretty hard through trying to control what I think about, running (which hasn't been enough), and what I eat (which was a ton Nutella). With all that being said,  I was a WRECK on Wednesday.  I stayed home from service, work, and meeting that day.  My day was spent divided between crying (the first session which Derrick was there to hug me through.  Love that man so much), laundry, crying, trying to work through some health insurance stuff I'm working on for the kids, crying, going through my kids baby books... eating Nutella, popcorn and drinking tea, crying, and finally crashing on the couch with a book for the rest of the day.  It all started the night before, I had so many dreams of my mom that night.  I woke up eventually around three and then the ever dreaded thinking started, the regrets, the being mad at both of us for not being the perfect daughter or the perfect mother, missing her and then just my general frustration with myself.  Wednesday sorta helped purge all of that.  Renae and I were texting through the day- that always helps:)

Thursday was back to work time.  One of my favorite quotes from a movie is  "You gotta be rich to be insane. Losing your mind is not a luxury for the middle class."  Sooo true (although I have to say, the people at my work have been awesome- the pressure is from myself, not the job).  So I went to work (although I looked*and still look*crapalicous), arrived late, stumbled through the day without any major mishaps, left late, and went home.  Real life just doesn't stop.  I talked to Tara on the phone for a couple hours last night- such an awesome phone call.  Friends (and sisters) are the best pick-me-up of all.

Just need to finish getting through this day.  So far my biggest hang-up has been that rotten stapler.  This weekend includes a going away party and a funeral.  Maybe after the funeral, some of the stress will let up.  I'm ready to feel good again, okay?

Ode to Moodiness

I ran for the first time in a week this morning. It was the first time outside for the last two weeks. I had to MAKE myself go... with a lot of prodding from Derrick. I wanted to lay down on the couch, or putter around the house in slow motion instead. Scary, how fast progress goes away. It wasn't that the run itself was that much more difficult (although I did go at a slower pace), it was the wanting to run that suffered. I know a lot of it has to do with the fact that it is the 23rd of the month. I can be guaranteed at least ten days of negative thinking a month, if not more. But it feels worse this month. My carousel is riding much lower than usual. Every regret of the past, every person I may have insulted or hurt, every thing I may have written that could have been damaging is flying into my brain at the same moment. Things I have found a measure of peace with are back and kicking me in the stomach. Wrong self-injurious thoughts, and a tasteless self-pity. Worry over things I can't change are knocking on my door. I am 34 years old! I'm supposed to be over this crap by now, or at least I should have figured out some way to control this!
I went to meeting last night and felt like I was both in a fog, and yet twitching to get out of there. I looked around at everyone else, and saw that they were all having animated conversations, showing the love to each other that we are supposed to. We just got back from the assembly Monday- driving back I felt so confident that I would be able to really make some big steps forward. I want to do better. I still think in a lot of ways I can do better. But some things feel so out of my control. There are days when I am driving that my heart feels like it is going to jump out of my chest and I am going to start ramming my car into other drivers if they don't get out of my way, and other times when I'm driving in a fog completely unaware of the time. Days when I get to the hall and feel like smiling at everybody and actually have the nerve to approach others, but then times where I'd rather slip on a cloak of invisibility because I feel absolutely empty inside. Sometimes it has to do with hormones. Sometimes I don't know WHY it's one way or the other. All I know is that the little bit of control I have over it is RUNNING. I need to start fighting harder for that little bit of control again. It really has been a couple crazy weeks, but I could have fought harder to run at times that maybe weren't as convenient or easy. Sleeping in an hour and a half longer is not worth feeling this way. It is worth being a little too hot while running during the late part of the day to not feel this way.

Mom

I am crawling out of my skin. Feel so nervous today. This is the kind of day I wish I could lock myself into my room and hide. Instead I am at work, dealing with people who probably feel worse than I do.

Mom is really sick today. She has a lot of pain in her lower stomach and abdomen. I am so frustrated to be stuck in Missoula! She will not go to the doctor, and I want to march down there and make her go. Been on the phone with Renae (who is in Seattle), Danny (who is stuck at work in St. Regis), and Cookie, who went to see Mom and check on her. Everyone who has seen her agrees that she doesn't look good. I'm worried. My stomach is twisting. I should be exhausted since I didn't hardly sleep at all last night, but instead I feel wired and weepy. Must make it to 5:15....

Tomorrow I need to clean my house, call around to find a new oncologist for Mom, take all of our extra cash and give it to Discover card (gotta do that one fast, like pulling off a bandaid) and then go to work at 1:00. Steph and the kids should be at our house by the time I get off of work. I ran only about 3.5 miles today instead of the 6.2 I had planned. It would be just like me to overdue it, so I thought I should take it a little bit more easy.

And now.... 3 more hours to go and then HOME.

Real

Life feels more real to me at three o'clock in the morning. Every scary possibility, every for sure eventuality looms before me. The problem with this realness is I feel like I'm without defenses. During the day, I can acknowledge the same reality, but I would tell you my plan of action too. I feel strong enough during the day. At night I feel stripped of any inner strength- I feel like cowering before future possibilities. I remember every word I said to anyone during the day, only my night memory hears my own voice in tones of desperation and attention seeking, calloused and careless. Everything has an overlay of malice.
Dang, I wish this night would just end so I could go back to being the day me.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Worlds Away

Me, Myself, and I

This has been an interesting week so far. I've been kidless since Sunday afternoon and husbandless since Monday morning! The kids are having a great time in Thompson Falls. Kloe is staying with Stephanie and Aiyana, and Derrin is staying with Heidi and Colton. Steph signed both the kids up for swimming lessons, and they are LOVING it. Swimming lessons last for two weeks, so it looks like the kids will be back down there next week too (which I am sure breaks their hearts).

So, what have I been doing in the meantime? Weeelll, Monday was a weird mood day for me. I had a crazy downward swing that sort of hit me unexpectedly in the morning, and it lingered for about half the day. I was actually glad that my family wasn't around to have to deal with me. If I were to have a mood chart with crazy low at a 1 and crazy high at a 10, I would give that morning a 2. I managed to calm myself to go to work by 11, and being at work seemed to help. When I got home I worked on an art project for awhile (computer art with photos) which was very soothing, and then I forced myself to go on my 6.2 mile run. I ended up walking the final mile, but I felt WAY better at that point. Then I went to Finnegans (I was very amused with my choice of restaurant) to eat and use their WI-FI. The day ended on a good note.

Yesterday I had the day off to go to Mom's doctor appointment. We were worried about her stomach because she has been having a lot of pain, and we were getting results from a CAT scan she had received the week before. The scan didn't show anything going on in her stomach (cancer wise), but it did show a spot on her liver that wasn't there before. The report said that it was suspicious of cancer, but maybe it could just be a hematoma. The doctor said it was pointless to test it since operating wouldn't really be an option anyway since she has several tumors in her lungs. I can tell she is starting to feel scared now. I'm scared too, but it's like the feelings and thoughts that go along with my mom's sickness are blocked. I don't think I could function on a daily basis if I had to deal with those feelings. I pray a lot about it, for strength. Running helps a lot. We are trying to spend more time down in Plains and Thompson Falls too. All of the yard work is helping too:)

I did a lot of yard work after I left Mom and Dad. I lined the little pond in front of our house with new plastic, put rocks in, and filled it with water finally. It is a muddy pond, but I have given up on perfection out there a long time ago. I did a ton of weeding out there this morning, and hopefully Derrick will hook up my new little fishy spout to the water pump when he gets home. All that will be left after that is to get a couple new little goldfish to start their own little game of who will survive Rachel's pond this year:)

After all that yard work, I got all dolled up and went into town to eat with Shannon, and then we went to the Jewel concert. My honest feelings about Jewel are 1) She is a brilliant song writer. 2) She is a very funny performer and very good with interacting with the audience. 3) When she gets too dramatic in her Jewel fashion it actually makes me happy because it reminds me of the same slightly irritated feelings I had with that as a kid. She brings me right back to being sixteen again:) Anyways, I had a good night with Shannon.

And that brings me up to today. I ran my 6.2 this morning. That brings me to 12.4. Gonna run tomorrow (will be at 18.6), take Friday off and the Saturday is THE DAY. I am looking forward to it!!! BRING IT!!! Derrick will be home by the time I get off work and I am glad of it. Although I have enjoyed the last three days of me time, I wouldn't want it to always be just me. Waking up next to someone I love and hearing the voices of two more of my little loves in the living room is how I want my life to be.

Asking for Help is Really Hard

“You create your opportunities by asking for them.”
Shakti Gawain

“The strong individual is the one who asks for help when he needs it. Whether he has an abscess on his knee or in his soul.” Rona Barrett

We should be careful to get out of an experience only the wisdom that is in it – and stay there, lest we be like the cat that sits down on a hot stove lid. She will never sit down on a hot stove lid again… but also, she will never sit down on a cold one any more.
–Mark Twain

Asking for help does not mean that we are weak or incompetent. It usually indicates an advanced level of honesty and intelligence.
- Anne Wilson Schaef

How could you possibly run a cool family, team or organization without asking for help? In fact, how could you run a cool person, YOU, without asking for help?

I'd say one of the hardest things about being a parent is you CAN NOT do it by yourself. Even in a dual parented family, outside help is going to be almost certainly needed. So, in the typical way of child-rearing, I have had to stretch and grow. This has required learning to suck it up, and ask for help. Especially because I work (Only part-time! What about the single moms who work full time?!? My mind boggles.) I have to ask people to help me with my kids. Even though I have people in my life who are more than happy to help, I still find myself cringing when I have to ask. All of the same feelings I've always had when asking for help come creeping up. I'm asking too much, I'm irresponsible, I'm inconsiderate of other people's time or resources... Gack.

I must remember: Asking for help is not a bad thing. I would say that to ANY of my friends or family if they asked me for help. It requires humility- and maybe that is part of the puzzle, I need more of that humility stuff. It requires faith in people too- just because someone can't help me this time, doesn't mean they don't want to or won't try to at a later time. Just because one person said no, it doesn't mean the next person won't say yes.

I am discovering that asking for help is the only way I'm going to navigate this life. Especially since my children's happiness is involved do I have to make this leap. I can not be the kid starving in college because I'm too prideful to ask my folks for money (thank goodness my sis would slip me some cash). No longer can I afford to fight weaknesses without grabbing a helping hand.

Life is so REAL when you have kids! It isn't just me that hurts when I don't get help. And that's the bottom line.

The Running Blues

Normally by this time in the week I would have ran 18 miles. This week I am at 5. The problem is that I am spoiled. Now that I know how great it is to run outside, it is really hard to plug away on a treadmill while watching the same movies/ series that I've already seen. This is going to be an issue for the rest of the summer, because now that the kids aren't in school, I no longer have the luxury of running in the mornings. My wings have been clipped. I feel it dramatically already- I'm tired, grumpy and feeling depressed- all of the symptoms that I run to keep on top of. It's crazy how fast I fall apart when don't run. *SIGH* I'm either gonna have to suck it up and make myself run on the treadmill, or I'm going to have to start running at night when Derrick gets home from work. That bums me out, because night is OUR time, but it is very important to me that I continue to love
running- how I feel dramatically effects our relationship, more than the hour and a half away from him every night would. I can not stop running. The stakes are too high for me.

Bumper Stickers

Especially in Missoula, you will find that a lot of people make statements with the bumper stickers they choose to put on the back of their cars. Usually if you follow closely enough, you will know whether the person is Republican (and bitter, with anti-Obama stickers), or liberal. You will know whether they are a cat or dog lover. NRA supporters. Pro-lifers. Man Haters. Hawaii lovers. Honor roll kid parents. Jesus lovers who like to prove it with a bumper sticker. Little stickers of stick figures representing each member of the family. Calvin peeing on random things. People who know that well behaved women rarely make history. LOTS of cars with little pink and yellow ribbon stickers, supporting their causes.

Every day, I manage to peel out from my house exactly 15 minutes before my shift starts at work. Why not 20 or 25 minutes? Because I am a very busy lady, that's why! Trust me, I have good reasons! SO, I have 15 minutes to make it to work which is PERFECT as long as I hit all green lights (there are five lights between my house and work- even if I hit three greens, I am still doing good), and I can go the speed limit.

Some days I get behind people who actually seem to want to make it through the green lights. Some people even seem to care enough to speed up so that one or two cars behind them can make it too. But then there are the OTHER drivers, the ones who drive as if it would be impolite to try to push their way through the green lights. It's like they think they are being greedy to want to make it through their journey without pausing. Some people actually slow down BEFORE the light turns yellow, as if they feel bad for rushing the lights. They drive with a great big "Please pardon me, and everyone I have trapped behind me. Of course, please DO go first. We don't mind stopping at ALL. It's not like ANY of us have anywhere we are in a HUGE hurry to get to!"

While fuming about the drivers in front of me, I read their bumper stickers, because I'd say roughly 80 percent of these slow drivers are also into preaching the way they see the world to everyone behind them. It's like a big game of follow the leader, and when it's THEIR turn to be the leader, you'll have the pleasure of driving a polite ten miles under the speed limit (as EVERYONE should be doing! Safety first guys!), and any driver behind them who dares to drive too close in a threatening manner (that would be me) will get to be indoctrinated into the proper view of the world (theirs).

I'd like to take this opportunity to tell the bumper-sticker-lovin'-slow-drivers a thing or two. Let's see... thanks for helping accentuate my propensity for being late. Just know that you only made me stronger. Every time I have resisted the urge to ram into you from behind, I have flexed a muscle of self-restraint. You should be glad that I am such a well behaved woman, because I have wanted to make history by shoving you off of the road into the green light pole that you are gently encouraging to turn red before we make it through. And I hate your dog/cat/honor roll student. I also think Calvin peeing on things is degrading to such an awesome comic strip, and you should be smacked for having bought that particular sticker. Hawaii lovers, I also love Hawaii, and I think you should MOVE there- ALL the islands drive as slow as you do: they are YOUR PEOPLE! Please move there, where people won't want to ram you from behind with their Wranglers/Mustangs. And to all other causes you slow drivers are promoting from the back of your cars... you have a new nemesis to your cause. Just hope you are Batman in slow motion.