Seeing that I am a certified behavior analyst I can deconstruct behavior. Through task analysis any behavior can be deconstructed. Thus determining its trigger/antecedent, and consequences, either positive or negative. Every behavior has a purpose. Behavior which is intrinsically rewarding, these are tough to decrease. Often folks mistake social cues or nuances leading to misinterpretation of behavior.
In deconstructing behavior you eliminate emotion. Task analysis is a black and white process. Identifying triggers helps in decreasing unwanted behaviors. Also, if one knows their triggers they have a greater probability in reducing a behavior.
Yes, I am going somewhere with this.
Sunday I sat and watched the clouds roll by. The more you look at a cloud the more you can see. One cloud looked like a dog. Clouds broke apart then reattached to different clouds. So, sitting there, watching the clouds, a song fills the space. (The neighbors have an incredible outdoor sound system.) The song "triggered" a flood of emotions. Fighting tears I pondered reasons - What is the reason a random song triggered such an emotional response?
Remember back in the mid to late 1990's, a Lilith fair revolution took place? Female singers were the rage. (another odd expression, "all the rage") I was at a period in my life when I was happy. Working through grief, a job I truly loved, seeing people I had not seen in a while. Life was excellent!
The back-drop included the "Lilith Fair"
revolution. Now, 10 - 15 years later, as I watched clouds meander by, a song(which I did not know the words) "triggered" anxiety and sadness. In this case the trigger was easily identifiable. The purpose of the behavior? None, there is no purpose for the behavior. Given that there was not purpose, the behavior(crying) is an easy fix.
Hold on Nellie, not so fast. A song became a time machine. I stood alone. I cried. Okay, so the behavior had a negative consequence. I do not enjoy crying, messes up my mascara. Grief, yearning to get back what was lost. Seeking bolt cutters so I could remove the ball and chain. Sadness filled me. I didn't reach for medication. I started a new chore. Keeping busy helps in reducing "think time."
I need one of those signs - slow down construction. Reckon we are all "under construction. Each of us seeking meaning, purpose, satisfaction. Our travelling road, sometimes bumpy, sometimes smooth has many a sharp curve. Maneuvering this road requires concentration and a hard hat.
Still I am at a loss as to why. Two days now I have examined the song, my reaction, and alternative ways of thinking. Alas, sadness is an emotion. We can't control how we feel. We can control how we behave!
This process, deconstruction, it is going to take some time. Some of it joyous, some - not so much. It is necessary. To find myself I will break life into small measurable increments. Each increment I touch will become another tool for coping. Where it leads or how it ends are not within my scope of knowledge. Just KISS!
Breathe and KISS, minimize, move forward - shucks, how did I get here? Where is the door? Stop the world I want to get off.
Tuesday, April 30, 2013
Monday, April 29, 2013
Not in One Night
If you did not get broken in one night, you can't be fixed in one night. If you don't know what ails you, you can't rid yourself of it. It is a process. A long slow process. You believe there is an end - a happy ending. Right? There has to be...all of this must amount to something. What if it doesn't end? What if this merry go round doesn't stop? Will you forever remain riding a painted pony around and around and around? Gosh, I hope not!
Faith - believing what you can't see. Riding on faith right now. Believing there is a purpose for all of this. Praying there is a happy ending waiting to be written.
Look back, this rear view mirror distorts. Objects are closer than they appear. How long do you look back? Is there any point to looking back? You can't change the past. What is done is done. Move forward, gently. Put your foot on the gas pedal. Inch forward - inch by inch by inch. Keep the faith.
If you could go back - like you can with a computer. Restore to a previous date, erase progress since then and now. If you could restore, what would be your marker? HS graduation? Completion of your bachelor's degree? When you got married? The birth of a child? What is your restore point? At what time in your life were the ducks lined up in a row? Do you know? Can you tell?
"Fits and Starts," an odd little expression. I wonder its origin. Yes, life is a series of fits and starts. Does it ever end? Can you examine your past, pinpoint the exact moment when you found happiness? Or identify your place when it all came crashing down?
In retrospect - too much looking back is bound to be a pain in the neck. Straining for a glimpse of the future might break your back. You have to remain right here. You have to stay in this moment. No tomorrows, no yesterdays - today is all that matters. Not exactly true. You learn from the past and you have to plan for the future. The future is tomorrow, that is all, just tomorrow.
You can handle that, can't you? Tomorrow? Wake up, walk the dog, take a shower, eat something, walk the dog, go to the store, say hello, watch television, play Candy Crush Saga (highly addictive, don't start if you don't have time to finish. I saw on FB there are now rehab programs available for CCS addicts.) Walk the dog, eat, brush your teeth, watch TV, go to bed; Oh yes, and remember to breathe.
Keep it simple stupid! (KISS) We do tend to be our own worst enemies. When we readily forgive others for their trespasses, we are want (is it want, or wont? I do not know but you get the idea) to forgive ourselves. Odd characteristic of being human - easier to forgive others than ourselves, kinder to strangers than family, rather give than receive. Why is that? Why are we so hesitant when accepting a gift? If we won the lottery we would have no trouble taking that loot. If someone gives us $500.00 we struggle with its implied weight. Oh, we are silly.
Dancing in the dark. This is what life has become. Dancing in the dark. Your listen to music, seeking its rhythm and roll - tentatively we move, unable to see we "feel" our way through. Yes, dancing in the dark. If no one is watching are you dancing anyway? If no one marks your time do you keep a schedule? If no one asks of you, does this mean you are lost?
A normative rule when implementing a behavior modification program is 1 decelerating consequence(DC), 15 accelerating consequence(AC.) If you apply this ratio to life you must find 15 positive thoughts, actions, feelings for every negative thought, action or feeling. If you drink one beer you must have 15 drinks of water. In your head, if you say "I suck," you must then find 15 positive things about yourself.
The beginning of any behavior modification program is most difficult. Identifying antecedents, behavior, consequence can be tricky...especially when it comes to introspection. Yes, it is another fickly aspect of this human condition.
(Meandering here) What is a alternative lifestyle? It is an odd concept no? Is there a normed lifestyle? Who sets the norm? We have established defining normal is suspect at best, thus how do we identify the "normal" life style vs. the "alternative" life style? Deep thoughts for sure! What if more people are "alternative" than the norm? Does the norm change? Who is keeping track?
(Further meandering) "All things being equal" - What? No things are equal. Snowflakes and people, no two are exactly alike. $2.00 does not equal $200.00. Which would you rather have?
Introspection, mega omniscience(is that a word? or is it meta cognition?" rear view mirrors and the like - do we ever "graduate?" When the end comes, will we recognize it? If we don't learn from the past are we really destined to repeat it? Life is circular to begin with. From birth, our circle is large. As we grow older our circle grows smaller and smaller until we are just a speck of sand.
That is too great a concept. KISS! Breathe! Remain present! Moment by moment this is how you survive until you learn how to swim.
Faith - believing what you can't see. Riding on faith right now. Believing there is a purpose for all of this. Praying there is a happy ending waiting to be written.
Look back, this rear view mirror distorts. Objects are closer than they appear. How long do you look back? Is there any point to looking back? You can't change the past. What is done is done. Move forward, gently. Put your foot on the gas pedal. Inch forward - inch by inch by inch. Keep the faith.
If you could go back - like you can with a computer. Restore to a previous date, erase progress since then and now. If you could restore, what would be your marker? HS graduation? Completion of your bachelor's degree? When you got married? The birth of a child? What is your restore point? At what time in your life were the ducks lined up in a row? Do you know? Can you tell?
"Fits and Starts," an odd little expression. I wonder its origin. Yes, life is a series of fits and starts. Does it ever end? Can you examine your past, pinpoint the exact moment when you found happiness? Or identify your place when it all came crashing down?
In retrospect - too much looking back is bound to be a pain in the neck. Straining for a glimpse of the future might break your back. You have to remain right here. You have to stay in this moment. No tomorrows, no yesterdays - today is all that matters. Not exactly true. You learn from the past and you have to plan for the future. The future is tomorrow, that is all, just tomorrow.
You can handle that, can't you? Tomorrow? Wake up, walk the dog, take a shower, eat something, walk the dog, go to the store, say hello, watch television, play Candy Crush Saga (highly addictive, don't start if you don't have time to finish. I saw on FB there are now rehab programs available for CCS addicts.) Walk the dog, eat, brush your teeth, watch TV, go to bed; Oh yes, and remember to breathe.
Keep it simple stupid! (KISS) We do tend to be our own worst enemies. When we readily forgive others for their trespasses, we are want (is it want, or wont? I do not know but you get the idea) to forgive ourselves. Odd characteristic of being human - easier to forgive others than ourselves, kinder to strangers than family, rather give than receive. Why is that? Why are we so hesitant when accepting a gift? If we won the lottery we would have no trouble taking that loot. If someone gives us $500.00 we struggle with its implied weight. Oh, we are silly.
Dancing in the dark. This is what life has become. Dancing in the dark. Your listen to music, seeking its rhythm and roll - tentatively we move, unable to see we "feel" our way through. Yes, dancing in the dark. If no one is watching are you dancing anyway? If no one marks your time do you keep a schedule? If no one asks of you, does this mean you are lost?
A normative rule when implementing a behavior modification program is 1 decelerating consequence(DC), 15 accelerating consequence(AC.) If you apply this ratio to life you must find 15 positive thoughts, actions, feelings for every negative thought, action or feeling. If you drink one beer you must have 15 drinks of water. In your head, if you say "I suck," you must then find 15 positive things about yourself.
The beginning of any behavior modification program is most difficult. Identifying antecedents, behavior, consequence can be tricky...especially when it comes to introspection. Yes, it is another fickly aspect of this human condition.
(Meandering here) What is a alternative lifestyle? It is an odd concept no? Is there a normed lifestyle? Who sets the norm? We have established defining normal is suspect at best, thus how do we identify the "normal" life style vs. the "alternative" life style? Deep thoughts for sure! What if more people are "alternative" than the norm? Does the norm change? Who is keeping track?
(Further meandering) "All things being equal" - What? No things are equal. Snowflakes and people, no two are exactly alike. $2.00 does not equal $200.00. Which would you rather have?
Introspection, mega omniscience(is that a word? or is it meta cognition?" rear view mirrors and the like - do we ever "graduate?" When the end comes, will we recognize it? If we don't learn from the past are we really destined to repeat it? Life is circular to begin with. From birth, our circle is large. As we grow older our circle grows smaller and smaller until we are just a speck of sand.
That is too great a concept. KISS! Breathe! Remain present! Moment by moment this is how you survive until you learn how to swim.
Thursday, April 25, 2013
WHY?
This is the $64,000 question - WHY? Why did this fell me? Why did I slip away? Am I so shallow? Was my identity tied only to being a teacher? Why couldn't I get up? Why did I let everything snowball? That was the metaphor( that is correct isn't it?) I was thinking of - A single snowflake became an avalanche. Why?
Often I have said;
"Teaching is not what I do, it is who I am."
Is this why? My entire identity wrapped up in a blanket - Teacher? I love teaching. I am proud to tell people I was a Special Education Teacher. I didn't become a teacher because I could not do anything else.
Teaching was a privilege which I took very seriously. If you love what you do you never have to work a day in your life - Teaching was work. Every year more challenging than the last. Today's students enter school less equipped. Their well of need is deep. Knowing I might have a positive impact on a child's life, that was humbling.
Why? Not born with a silver spoon, I overcame. Every mountain I climbed led me to a beautiful vista. Each time life knocked me down I got back up. Why? Why is the glass which I must expel from my body. Why didn't I know our insides are made of glass?
For every burden there were 10 blessings. For every moment of solitude there were 10 people holding me. For every challenge there were 10 opportunities. Why indeed? Why did September 17, 2008 at 8:03 am, why was this the beginning of my end?
Time is often measured by moments. The moment you fall in love, the moment you see the truth, the moment you found peace, the moment your life was destroyed. Lynn's song - Measure life by love; That yardstick, my yardstick of love, it is 100,000,000 feet long.
Funny creatures we are indeed. Moving through life in fits and starts ( that is an odd expression, or maybe I am not saying it correctly) Whatever one accomplishes, is never accomplished alone. There is not a moment of my life when I was alone. Not a single moment. It was love that saved me again and again and again. God placed people in my life when he knew I would need them. I get all of that - I just don't understand WHY?
It is not "Why Me?" It is not self pity. I do not feel sorry for myself. It is just "WHY?" What the head says, and the heart feels - these are not necessarily in sync. Intellectually I understand some of it - emotionally, I can't connect the dots. My rear-view vision is not 20/20.
I realize nothing can be gained by running these thoughts around my brain. No good can come of my continual mastication of circumstance. Interesting, we are an odd bunch of interesting individuals. Knowing what to do and being able to do what you need to do (say that five times fast) are all to often exclusive of one another. WHY? Shaking my head back and forth, repeatedly asking WHY? Who is the person I now am? How did I become this person? Will I ever be able to look myself in the eye?
You cannot run away from it. You cannot hide from yourself. What is that phrase; "No matter where you go there you are." How do I return to who I am? I am a teacher. I take care of other people. I am the rock. Not so much anymore I reckon. Who am I now?
I am still an intelligent, humorous, compassionate, woman. How could I let these circumstances control me? Seriously, what in the world happened? Goodness I am tired of me. Breathing is exhausting. Talking is exhausting. Leaving the house is exhausting. Thinking is exhausting. Being me is exhausting.
If I am tired of me, y'all must be worn out. More trouble than I am worth, reckon so. I must reconcile my pre-injury me and my post-injury self. Yup, it is a word search - the answers are within the puzzle you just have to keep looking until you find them. Since I did not know I wasn't successfully coping, will I be able to recognize and process the who I am today. Who I am tomorrow?
Flea market flip often has a "re-purpose" category. This is what I need for my life. I need a re-purpose identity. Do you think I could buy one on Alameda and Vermont?
My identity - who am I? That is not the same as your job title. Who we are comes from within. As seed becomes flower we too must blossom. Remember when "inner child" was the prevailing self help notion. "Heal your inner child. In healing your inner child you can re-purpose yourself.
Yes, that is what is necessary (bet you can't say that one five times fast) My thoughts move faster than my fingers can type. Sorry for any delays this may cause you. I must "re-purpose" myself. Any suggestion on how to go about finding a new identity? OK, I have to do the work, I know that. I am anxious to do that. Maybe then I could watch television once and a while.
WHY? If I only knew!
Often I have said;
"Teaching is not what I do, it is who I am."
Is this why? My entire identity wrapped up in a blanket - Teacher? I love teaching. I am proud to tell people I was a Special Education Teacher. I didn't become a teacher because I could not do anything else.
Teaching was a privilege which I took very seriously. If you love what you do you never have to work a day in your life - Teaching was work. Every year more challenging than the last. Today's students enter school less equipped. Their well of need is deep. Knowing I might have a positive impact on a child's life, that was humbling.
Why? Not born with a silver spoon, I overcame. Every mountain I climbed led me to a beautiful vista. Each time life knocked me down I got back up. Why? Why is the glass which I must expel from my body. Why didn't I know our insides are made of glass?
For every burden there were 10 blessings. For every moment of solitude there were 10 people holding me. For every challenge there were 10 opportunities. Why indeed? Why did September 17, 2008 at 8:03 am, why was this the beginning of my end?
Time is often measured by moments. The moment you fall in love, the moment you see the truth, the moment you found peace, the moment your life was destroyed. Lynn's song - Measure life by love; That yardstick, my yardstick of love, it is 100,000,000 feet long.
Funny creatures we are indeed. Moving through life in fits and starts ( that is an odd expression, or maybe I am not saying it correctly) Whatever one accomplishes, is never accomplished alone. There is not a moment of my life when I was alone. Not a single moment. It was love that saved me again and again and again. God placed people in my life when he knew I would need them. I get all of that - I just don't understand WHY?
It is not "Why Me?" It is not self pity. I do not feel sorry for myself. It is just "WHY?" What the head says, and the heart feels - these are not necessarily in sync. Intellectually I understand some of it - emotionally, I can't connect the dots. My rear-view vision is not 20/20.
I realize nothing can be gained by running these thoughts around my brain. No good can come of my continual mastication of circumstance. Interesting, we are an odd bunch of interesting individuals. Knowing what to do and being able to do what you need to do (say that five times fast) are all to often exclusive of one another. WHY? Shaking my head back and forth, repeatedly asking WHY? Who is the person I now am? How did I become this person? Will I ever be able to look myself in the eye?
You cannot run away from it. You cannot hide from yourself. What is that phrase; "No matter where you go there you are." How do I return to who I am? I am a teacher. I take care of other people. I am the rock. Not so much anymore I reckon. Who am I now?
I am still an intelligent, humorous, compassionate, woman. How could I let these circumstances control me? Seriously, what in the world happened? Goodness I am tired of me. Breathing is exhausting. Talking is exhausting. Leaving the house is exhausting. Thinking is exhausting. Being me is exhausting.
If I am tired of me, y'all must be worn out. More trouble than I am worth, reckon so. I must reconcile my pre-injury me and my post-injury self. Yup, it is a word search - the answers are within the puzzle you just have to keep looking until you find them. Since I did not know I wasn't successfully coping, will I be able to recognize and process the who I am today. Who I am tomorrow?
Flea market flip often has a "re-purpose" category. This is what I need for my life. I need a re-purpose identity. Do you think I could buy one on Alameda and Vermont?
My identity - who am I? That is not the same as your job title. Who we are comes from within. As seed becomes flower we too must blossom. Remember when "inner child" was the prevailing self help notion. "Heal your inner child. In healing your inner child you can re-purpose yourself.
Yes, that is what is necessary (bet you can't say that one five times fast) My thoughts move faster than my fingers can type. Sorry for any delays this may cause you. I must "re-purpose" myself. Any suggestion on how to go about finding a new identity? OK, I have to do the work, I know that. I am anxious to do that. Maybe then I could watch television once and a while.
WHY? If I only knew!
Tuesday, April 23, 2013
NORMAL?
Normal - what is normal? If one person's trash can be another's treasure, then one person's normal might be another person's crazy. We throw around the word crazy - like we throw around the word love.
"What a crazy day?"
"That is just crazy!"
Is crazy the nemesis of normal? I don't believe we can define normal. Is it normal to be crazy? Or is being normal being sane?
Let's face it - we all have a little bit of crazy in us. That is not the same as saying;
"I have a mental illness."
Not likely to announce that at happy hour on Friday. Often I said I could teach children with special needs because I was a little bit crazier than they were. Crazy in a good way! It does help, making it through a day - being able to find "fun" with what you do because you can see there is no harm in being different.
Is "crazy" different. Is normal normal? Which one should we strive to be? What is acceptable? Maybe we should stick with - "What is more fun?"
Having a mental illness - we don't announce that - not often. I don't know if depression fits into mental illness. It can be episodic not chronic, does that exclude it from mental illness? Having flashbacks, PTSD - that is a mental illness. Is grief a mental illness? Have you felt grief so deep it knocked you on your ass?Then every time you attempted to get up it kicked you in the teeth. Grief so sharp when it cut you, you did not bleed? Seriously, grief is an elephant sitting on your chest - you can't breathe.
Who defines normal? Is it defined in the DSM? I don't think I want to be normal? I don't think I can be normal. I am not crazy. I am dealing with my mental illness - See I said it and the couch did not catch on fire! Have you stopped reading? Am I now a failure? Will you speak to me again? A lot of stigma remains for people who are mentally ill.
Double whammy on me...I cannot be normal, I am mentally ill. I am not crazy. OK, maybe just a little bit - crazy fun!
Will I forever be mentally ill? No, don't reckon so. Will I do the work which will bring me back to mental health - of course? How did I get here? I don't know!
How did I get here? That my friends is a great question. If I saw the signs in someone else, I could diagnose them. True 'dat! How we can't see in ourselves that which we see in others, that which scares us.
I don't express anger. I don't release anger. I don't allow anger. I fear anger. I fear if I open the cage - the anger will escape...it will consume me. Sadness, grief, fear, anxiety - weak, weak, weak! I would rather be anything...but not weak.
Pride comes before the fall. It is a long way down. Then you hit bottom and get up. If only it were that easy. I hit bottom and hit bottom and hit bottom. Had no idea I was on the bottom. Really, I seriously thought I was handling it all so well. Fool!
OK, here I am - will you still talk to me? Are you still my friend? Will this be what defines my legacy? Does it make everything else mute? Am I invisible? Will you look me in the eye, or dart your eyes away? Am I damaged?
When I "came out" as it were - (don't like that phrase so much, I wasn't in - I was me. My friends didn't "come out" as heterosexuals. They just lived their lives.) Anyway, some folks never spoke to me again. Some folks thought I should get "help." Some folks laughed, they already knew.
Now I am a lesbian who is mentally ill - dang, will I be all alone? Ya' know, I am also a friend, sister, daughter, teacher, writer, athlete - I am many things - How you choose to see me; Not mine to control. I am me...same me I was before September 17, 2008.
Writing - this writing...I am disrobing for anyone who cares to read. Stripped down to my skin - who can stand that kind of real? It is freakin' cold! I am freakin' out! This is when I have to fight the fear, fight the pills, fight the tears - I am not brave - Even here, naked, cold, raw...at the bottom of life's well - even here I truly want to leave my corner (a well is square not round) of the world better than when I arrived. So, maybe a young girl or boy - who lost their mother at birth - who lived a life completely opposite of normal, some gay/lesbian teenager who becomes mentally ill...perhaps one person who reads these words needs to know it is OK. No matter how far you feel you have fallen - No matter how low you believe you are...No matter how raw, scarred, weak - you feel - it does not define you. Get up! You can, I can! Move forward! You can, I can! The sun can shine, the sun will shine! Seriously, tomorrow is an opportunity not a noose!
What inscription should adorn my headstone? Not time yet - I have work to do before I sleep. Work to do before I sleep.
Monday, April 22, 2013
The Scarlett Letter
I have been away from my desk - Taking a break from "soul-searching." It is an exhausting task!
Eileen's 50th BBQ was a grand success. Like a true "lady" Eileen took it all in stride. It is not her fault people like her and wanted to celebrate her. She can't help it. She is who she is. Eileen has done so much for me - goodness, I could not begin to count the number of times she has come to my rescue, supported me, listened to me - Oh, we have laughed and cried, laughed again - It was a risky move, the BBQ, just felt important. Celebrating her was important. She should know how other people see her and she should know the positive impact she has on so many lives. Don't worry Eileen, it was the first and last. Despite the wind I say it was a rousing success.
This flare up is kicking my axx! In spite of feeling so yucky I have kept up a pretty good pace. At least I was keeping up a pretty good pace. Reckon planning for Eileen's party kept me moving. On Saturday I was out of fight. Sunday even worse, today even worse. Fighting creates exhaustion. Sooner or later, I have to stop fighting. It isn't giving in - it is accepting and coping.
This weekend I lied down more than I have. I rested more than I have. I would lie down then get up. Lie down then get up. I kept getting up because I didn't want to lie down. It is better to participate.
Then there is the Scarlett Letter - Probably for the rest of my life I will bear that letter. If I lie down more, get quiet, separate myself - will others think I have over medicated? Will others question if I am sick or escaping? Part of me wants to say; "I didn't take anything. I am just sick."
Another part of me doesn't want to say that - I know the truth, that is what matters. Ah, no - that others know the truth, this is what matters. I am not over medicating. I am not escaping. Will I forever wonder what other's think? Will I forever feel guilty and thus push myself beyond my limits, just to prove I am not over medicating? That would stink!
I know the truth, that is what matters! Like I said that is not enough. I spent the weekend fighting my body and my mind. When I felt, when I knew, the best thing for me was rest - I got up lest someone think I was stoned. Do you think that will cease?
Sure hope so! Yes, I made many bad choices. I engaged in bad behavior - I am not a bad person. I can't apologize anymore. If I am to move forward I have to let go of these rocks. Hanging on to them is just weighing me down. Guilt will do that. It will weigh you down, keep you underwater too long.
I lived, survived - so many folks kept me afloat - the best way I know to say; "Thank You" is to live fully, completely, richly - and happily. Sometimes that means allowing myself the rest I need to keep going. A few days of down time goes a long way.
Doing this flare without prednisone or Dr. Solsky - I am in uncharted territory. In the past I pushed myself. Just kept on keeping on - until I ended up on the floor of the bathroom unable to get up. Then off to the hospital. Without health insurance, hospital is not an option.
It is darn frustrating! I wish y'all could just feel this - you cannot see it, if you could it would assuage my guilt. Lying down is not quitting. It is not avoiding or escaping, it is not pain medication sedation. It is coping. I could push myself attempting to prove I am responsible. I could force myself to get up and go just so no one thinks I have slipped back into self destructive behaviors - In proving my innocence I would end up hospitalized. That is fact.
SLE is an insidious disease. It is ugly and mean and unforgiving. This disease leaves me angry, scared, tired, pain-ridden, guilty, frustrated - still I am grateful I have this day. I am not going to repeat the mistakes I have made. Do you trust me? Yes, I may take a Percocet - Some nights I may take a Nucynta. I am not going to endure a glop of pain just to prove I am not an addict. Can't prove that anyway -
The other day Eileen said she was proud of me - To hear those words - how many times in the past 2 years she has wanted to choke me? Proud of me - silly I know, those words from Eileen. I will not engage in self destructive behavior - I will not over medicate - I want Eileen to feel proud of me. Here I am a grown woman, seeking approval from others - I was so over that. I screwed up thus the Scarlett Letter.
I suppose some folks will always look at me and wonder; is she sick? Faking? Stoned? Oh well, I can't change that. I can only control myself and my behavior. I am Fuxxxx sick - it has nothing to do with pain or drugs - it is a lupus flare. It sucks. It angers me. I cry.
A person can fight so long then they have to rest. Recharge the mind and body. You don't know how I feel. I am not drug seeking. I am not falling into old habits. I am not a bad person. I am not taking too much pain medicine. I am safely and effectively attempting to manage my pain as well as get through this flare.
This is not a picnic! I can't change the past. I am sorry for causing others pain and worry! The part of me that chose those behaviors has been put to rest. I do have an addictive personality. I also possess inner-strength and a deep resolve. I need others to feel proud of me. I need to feel proud of myself.
Yes, I reckon, that Scarlett Letter is forever emblazoned on my forehead - it does not define me. It will not control me. I am not the person who fell down and couldn't get up. I'm still standing! (should change that back to my ring tone) I'm still standing looking better than I ever did. Feeling like a true survivor, feeling like a little kid!
Judge me as you will. I am not a bad person. Accepting and forgiving ourselves - this is a tall order. I have not filled this order, I will! We fought hard so I could receive disability. We wanted me to have the chance to rest. Not have to fight every day just to get through! Do I still need to prove myself? Will I always have to prove myself?
Feel what I feel - I am not over medicating, I am not avoiding or escaping - I am sick - Darn that Scarlett Letter...maybe I will make it a tattoo!
Monday, April 15, 2013
As Usual - My Timing Stinks
I have made good, positive progress. There are many things left to do - yet I was beginning to think a cloud was lifting. Then the IRS stepped in - why don't they pick on someone their own size? I will deal with that.
It is the "funny thing" about having a chronic illness; Waiting for that "other shoe" to drop. It is frightening and that scares me. Five steps forward, four steps back. I am determined! That helps. I have so much love and support! That helps. Timing does stink, getting life together again. Taking back control - you don't get to control this - No Mam'- this takes on a life all its own.
Pain, multiply it by 10. Anxiety, multiply it by 15. Fear, multiply it by 20! Since being diagnosed a million moons ago this is the first time I battle this stinking disease without Dr.Solsky. I don't know what to do. Battle this hideous illness without medication? I don't know about that - I am scared. What do I do? I don't know what to do.
My timing just stinks. Falling to a flare up - Now? Are you kidding me? We have all worked so hard, given so much, sacrificed, cried, loved, fought and made up - loved - what if I can't beat this bloody disease back? Without access to tools I would normally use, what should I do? Shoot, I am scared.
Just breathe...wipe your tears - be strong! Push yourself! Get up! Keep going! This isn't mental. It isn't controllable, why is my body betraying me now? Gosh darn it! How far we have come, how much we have sacrificed, how much we have given - it can't be for not. I refuse that!
You forget...that really rots! You forget...how much it hurts! You forget...how hard you need to work!You forget,,,feeling fear! You forget...the creeping doubt! Then BAM! YOU REMEMBER! Better if you forget.
Never let them see you sweat. Words to live by. Suck it up. Get over it. If you don't mind it doesn't matter. Part of me is saying;
"Just like you Lisa, do all the work then forget to turn it in."
It is in your body, your fingers and toes - your hands and feet - your knees and shoulders - there there little girl hope it doesn't get your kidneys. Hope it doesn't get your lungs. Wormed its way into your brain - this freakin' disease, it sucks!
Without what I know to beat back this enemy. Running naked into a fire - erase that image. Move on, step up, get over it! What if you can't? What if it doesn't? What then? NO! Don't even go there. You do though, you do. Yes, it makes you cry. Put all the pieces where they belong, didn't glue them down - the wind blows your work away. BAM! That is that.
It is the line Annie Lennox sings so beautifully;
"You don't know how I feel."
You know how I feel? Do you know what I mean? Can I get an "amen" from the sisters in the back?
Don't know what we do now...just breathe.
It is the "funny thing" about having a chronic illness; Waiting for that "other shoe" to drop. It is frightening and that scares me. Five steps forward, four steps back. I am determined! That helps. I have so much love and support! That helps. Timing does stink, getting life together again. Taking back control - you don't get to control this - No Mam'- this takes on a life all its own.
Pain, multiply it by 10. Anxiety, multiply it by 15. Fear, multiply it by 20! Since being diagnosed a million moons ago this is the first time I battle this stinking disease without Dr.Solsky. I don't know what to do. Battle this hideous illness without medication? I don't know about that - I am scared. What do I do? I don't know what to do.
My timing just stinks. Falling to a flare up - Now? Are you kidding me? We have all worked so hard, given so much, sacrificed, cried, loved, fought and made up - loved - what if I can't beat this bloody disease back? Without access to tools I would normally use, what should I do? Shoot, I am scared.
Just breathe...wipe your tears - be strong! Push yourself! Get up! Keep going! This isn't mental. It isn't controllable, why is my body betraying me now? Gosh darn it! How far we have come, how much we have sacrificed, how much we have given - it can't be for not. I refuse that!
You forget...that really rots! You forget...how much it hurts! You forget...how hard you need to work!You forget,,,feeling fear! You forget...the creeping doubt! Then BAM! YOU REMEMBER! Better if you forget.
Never let them see you sweat. Words to live by. Suck it up. Get over it. If you don't mind it doesn't matter. Part of me is saying;
"Just like you Lisa, do all the work then forget to turn it in."
It is in your body, your fingers and toes - your hands and feet - your knees and shoulders - there there little girl hope it doesn't get your kidneys. Hope it doesn't get your lungs. Wormed its way into your brain - this freakin' disease, it sucks!
Without what I know to beat back this enemy. Running naked into a fire - erase that image. Move on, step up, get over it! What if you can't? What if it doesn't? What then? NO! Don't even go there. You do though, you do. Yes, it makes you cry. Put all the pieces where they belong, didn't glue them down - the wind blows your work away. BAM! That is that.
It is the line Annie Lennox sings so beautifully;
"You don't know how I feel."
You know how I feel? Do you know what I mean? Can I get an "amen" from the sisters in the back?
Don't know what we do now...just breathe.
Friday, April 12, 2013
All Things Considered...
Great news this morning - my application for an apartment at Indian Trails has been approved. 113 Gentle Breeze Drive shall be my address. I am happy about this news - Eileen has been so patient and gracious letting Zuko and I stay here for so long. We love being here with the yard, wildlife, walking the golf course - However, to continue my journey forward living on my own is an important step. Besides, Indian Trails, as the crow flies, is a stone's throw away from here. I know we will be here a lot, especially in the summer.
I have not lived alone in over 10 years. It will be an adjustment. There is some apprehension. There is some excitement. Starting over at 50 - Who would of thunk it?
With everything that transpired over the past 4 years, remarkably the Lupus has been held in check. That run has ended. It is now filling my body. This sucks! Each time a flare up occurs is like the first time. Between flares I forget how awful this feels. This is the "It hurts to blink" flare. My eyelashes touching my eyelids hurts. My skin is on fire. Muscles are weak and burning. I sometimes think my hair and fingernails hurt.
This is when I need to lay low. Allow myself a bit more rest. I am sticking to the new pain management regiment. It is a bit more challenging with this flare up - I can do it.
Last night, as I could feel SLE creeping in, I needed some relief. I reached for the medicine box, I saw Percocet and Nucynta - I took two Tylenol. Admittedly, it is more challenging. Lupus flares are painful, exhausting, frustrating, and frightening. In the back of my mind I wonder if this will be the one that does not go away. Is this flare going to result in organ damage, or worse? I have been down this road many times. Yet each time is unique.
It is alright. Only need to adjust a few things and I will get through this one as I have gotten through so many times. It does suck. I am not taking any prednisone. How that will effect everything we will see. It feels good, knowing I am in control of managing pain in a responsible manner. I know I won't make excuses to justify over medicating myself.
There are moments when I feel excited just because I am feeling. There are moments when I am terrified just because I am feeling. Up and down, up and down, like the painted ponies on life's merry-go-round. It is better this way. Walking, heating pad, patches, people, writing, candles, hot showers, keeping busy - some of the tools I use to cope. These are good tools. I pray a lot. God and I converse a lot!
It is OK if I rest more. If I stay in bed or sleep more it is not because I am over medicating. I don't want to walk that road again. Oh, goodness ice pick cometh. Can't talk to y'all anymore. Going to close my eyes a bit -
It really feels good to feel again; even if pain is what I am feeling. It is at least true, honest - I know I have a long way to go...one step at a time. One step at a time.
I have not lived alone in over 10 years. It will be an adjustment. There is some apprehension. There is some excitement. Starting over at 50 - Who would of thunk it?
With everything that transpired over the past 4 years, remarkably the Lupus has been held in check. That run has ended. It is now filling my body. This sucks! Each time a flare up occurs is like the first time. Between flares I forget how awful this feels. This is the "It hurts to blink" flare. My eyelashes touching my eyelids hurts. My skin is on fire. Muscles are weak and burning. I sometimes think my hair and fingernails hurt.
This is when I need to lay low. Allow myself a bit more rest. I am sticking to the new pain management regiment. It is a bit more challenging with this flare up - I can do it.
Last night, as I could feel SLE creeping in, I needed some relief. I reached for the medicine box, I saw Percocet and Nucynta - I took two Tylenol. Admittedly, it is more challenging. Lupus flares are painful, exhausting, frustrating, and frightening. In the back of my mind I wonder if this will be the one that does not go away. Is this flare going to result in organ damage, or worse? I have been down this road many times. Yet each time is unique.
It is alright. Only need to adjust a few things and I will get through this one as I have gotten through so many times. It does suck. I am not taking any prednisone. How that will effect everything we will see. It feels good, knowing I am in control of managing pain in a responsible manner. I know I won't make excuses to justify over medicating myself.
There are moments when I feel excited just because I am feeling. There are moments when I am terrified just because I am feeling. Up and down, up and down, like the painted ponies on life's merry-go-round. It is better this way. Walking, heating pad, patches, people, writing, candles, hot showers, keeping busy - some of the tools I use to cope. These are good tools. I pray a lot. God and I converse a lot!
It is OK if I rest more. If I stay in bed or sleep more it is not because I am over medicating. I don't want to walk that road again. Oh, goodness ice pick cometh. Can't talk to y'all anymore. Going to close my eyes a bit -
It really feels good to feel again; even if pain is what I am feeling. It is at least true, honest - I know I have a long way to go...one step at a time. One step at a time.
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
Invisible Chronic Pain
I vote no to ICP! It is frustrating, annoying, mind bending, and an impediment to daily life activities. Given its invisibility it is felt yet not seen. If I were afflicted with a "mainstream" disease, perhaps it would be easier for others to understand. Anyone with SLE, RA, Fibromyalgia, impinged nerves, compressed discs, they understand.
I was up at 7:30. Now, three hours later, the swollen, stiff, aching, burning, pins and needles, are front and center. Weakness in my hands make it difficult to open a morning Mountain Dew. Weakness in my legs make it difficult to descend the stairs. Resting comfortably is out of the question. On the left side it hurts. On the right side it hurts. On my stomach it hurts. On my back it hurts. Toss and turn, shift and move, stand and stretch - as of yet I feel a blanket of hot coals covering my body. I feel pressure in my joints. I feel, yes I feel.
To look at me you would say; "Lisa, you look marvelous!" That is good. I wish there were a machine, like the x-ray used at airport security checkpoints, I wish I could stand in this machine and every point on my body that hurt would light up red. Visual proof to validate how much everything hurts.
I am not seeking sympathy. I wish I could show you. I wish it would go away - it is really annoying. I am going to work on another pine cone wreath today. (available to you for the great price of $40.00 plus S&H) I am going to the bank today. I am going to the post office today. These are small errands. They loom large.
I am not complaining. Despite ICP I am better today than I was yesterday, or last week, or last month. My bodies' betrayal frustrates me. Some days I have to accept what is. This is why I am on disability. This is why I require medicine. This is why I get frustrated. Still, I feel fortunate. I am not alone. I am loved. Many other folks are much worse off than me. I am blessed.
Yes, there are moments when I whisper to God. Seeking answers, solutions, my purpose, his plan - we all do. At some point I reckon each of us looks to our higher power in search of meaning. We want reasons for the bad things. Why do children get sick? Why do people kill one another? Why do the good die young? Why am I here?
In time, I believe, some of these answers will come to us. If we sit still, listen with our inner ear - God whispers back. What we seek may not be what we find. What is that saying? "Be patient with me, God isn't finished." When there is no answer it does not mean there is no reason. Still, certain tragedies belie(is that a word?) reason.
It might be easier if we had a life map. I think though, it is up to us to create our life map then turn it in at the end. If we land on "Go directly to jail" it only means we need to evaluate our course. A left or right turn might be in order. It is empowering though, isn't it? The gift of free choice - we decide what direction we travel.
So even on a day like today, even on the darkest of days...within us remains the strength to take the next step - if not today, tomorrow is alright. As long as we continue working on ourselves. If we keep plugging away - seeking our best self, wanting to leave things better than we found them, paying it forward, and yes, sometimes forgiving ourselves failures.
Today it is not weakness or laziness which keeps me under the radar. It is not taking so much pain medicine I am in a stupor. Today is what it is - ICP chiming in, 9 on the scale.
Now, I will run my errands. Rest a bit. Hopefully work on a new pine cone wreath. If I do it all, great! If I do none of it - No, that is not an option. One step at a time. This is OK.
I was up at 7:30. Now, three hours later, the swollen, stiff, aching, burning, pins and needles, are front and center. Weakness in my hands make it difficult to open a morning Mountain Dew. Weakness in my legs make it difficult to descend the stairs. Resting comfortably is out of the question. On the left side it hurts. On the right side it hurts. On my stomach it hurts. On my back it hurts. Toss and turn, shift and move, stand and stretch - as of yet I feel a blanket of hot coals covering my body. I feel pressure in my joints. I feel, yes I feel.
To look at me you would say; "Lisa, you look marvelous!" That is good. I wish there were a machine, like the x-ray used at airport security checkpoints, I wish I could stand in this machine and every point on my body that hurt would light up red. Visual proof to validate how much everything hurts.
I am not seeking sympathy. I wish I could show you. I wish it would go away - it is really annoying. I am going to work on another pine cone wreath today. (available to you for the great price of $40.00 plus S&H) I am going to the bank today. I am going to the post office today. These are small errands. They loom large.
I am not complaining. Despite ICP I am better today than I was yesterday, or last week, or last month. My bodies' betrayal frustrates me. Some days I have to accept what is. This is why I am on disability. This is why I require medicine. This is why I get frustrated. Still, I feel fortunate. I am not alone. I am loved. Many other folks are much worse off than me. I am blessed.
Yes, there are moments when I whisper to God. Seeking answers, solutions, my purpose, his plan - we all do. At some point I reckon each of us looks to our higher power in search of meaning. We want reasons for the bad things. Why do children get sick? Why do people kill one another? Why do the good die young? Why am I here?
In time, I believe, some of these answers will come to us. If we sit still, listen with our inner ear - God whispers back. What we seek may not be what we find. What is that saying? "Be patient with me, God isn't finished." When there is no answer it does not mean there is no reason. Still, certain tragedies belie(is that a word?) reason.
It might be easier if we had a life map. I think though, it is up to us to create our life map then turn it in at the end. If we land on "Go directly to jail" it only means we need to evaluate our course. A left or right turn might be in order. It is empowering though, isn't it? The gift of free choice - we decide what direction we travel.
So even on a day like today, even on the darkest of days...within us remains the strength to take the next step - if not today, tomorrow is alright. As long as we continue working on ourselves. If we keep plugging away - seeking our best self, wanting to leave things better than we found them, paying it forward, and yes, sometimes forgiving ourselves failures.
Today it is not weakness or laziness which keeps me under the radar. It is not taking so much pain medicine I am in a stupor. Today is what it is - ICP chiming in, 9 on the scale.
Now, I will run my errands. Rest a bit. Hopefully work on a new pine cone wreath. If I do it all, great! If I do none of it - No, that is not an option. One step at a time. This is OK.
Tuesday, April 9, 2013
It Is Not All Doom and Gloom
Although this process - finding myself and my place of peace takes me on difficult roads, life is not all doom and gloom. My Bug A Boo reminded me of that.
Most importantly I know I am not alone. I know I am loved. I know how many wonderful people have helped me. I know God has a plan for me. I know I have done some "good" things. I know the future is filled with possibilities. I know there is hope!
Last weekend we went on a "Poker Run." Several hundred people on 4 wheelers ride around the back roads stopping at various stores, restaurants and bars. At each stop you get a paper signed or stamped. When you return to the Trailside you receive a playing card for every stamp you have. Then, whomever has the best poker hand wins. The air was cold but the sun was shining. I rode with Eileen. It was wonderful. Being outside, being with good people, enjoying the sunshine and nature. I truly enjoyed myself.
Easter Sunday we went to Mrs. Murphy's. She made a wonderful lasagna with salad, garlic bread, and several desert choices. The carrot cake was fantastic. This was a great day.
A few weeks ago Mr. Cring took me out to dinner. Mr. Cring is a wonderful man. Since we met, some 30 years ago he has been a "father figure" to me. He gave me a job as a popcorn hawker at the fair. At that time we made $.05 on each box of popcorn we sold. I was the only female hawker. That first year I made over $400.00. That is a lot of nickels. I worked my way up to Head Hawker! I am still the only female "head hawker" the Lions Club has had.
Mr. Cring also gave me a shot as a softball umpire. He allowed me to take the class for free. That summer I umpired men's softball games at the Rec Park and the Amvets. I think I was 14. Even though I was a little thing I did not have a problem with the men playing. I had a good strike zone and I was consistent. When I made a call, I did as Mr. Cring taught me - I was emphatic! If I made the wrong call I admitted it. I rode my bike from Constable to Malone. I would eat dinner at the Dairy Queen, umpire two or three games at $10.00 a game, then ride my bike home. It was a great summer.
This past Saturday Eileen and I went to a friend's house to craft. We learned how to make beautiful pine cone wreaths. I failed art in HS and I failed bulletin boards in college - my wreath isn't half bad. I am going to start another one today.
Zuko is doing great! He really enjoys the "country life." Chasing chipmunks is his favorite activity. He will scratch, dig, claw, bite at a tree attempting to get a chipper. I don't know what he would do if he ever actually caught one - We walk everyday on the golf course. Well I walk, Zuko runs. He runs and runs his tail wagging the entire time.
The weather warmed enough this weekend so I got my scooter going. When I ride around the yard Zuko runs along side of me. He loves it! I love to ride my little scooter. This week I am going to get a motorcycle permit. Hopefully, I can pass the test! Then I can take a class to obtain a motorcycle license. Another of the things on my bucket list. I don't want a motorcycle, perhaps a little bigger scooter.
Ever since I started riding a motorcycle, jeez back when I was 7 or 8 - riding has been a great source of enjoyment for me. I am not certain what it is; the freedom, the release, the thrill? When I ride I can just get lost in the moment. It feels so wonderful. I rode that little yellow Yamaha YZ 80 five or six hours a day. Mommie let me buy a Honda 125 when we lived in Constable. A bunch of kids had motorcycles. We rode all over those back roads evading the police. It was so much fun.
Sifting through the ashes and picking up the glass, yes these are difficult tasks. I don't spend every moment dwelling. Walking, crafting, hanging with friends and family - I have more wonderful moments than bad ones. Learning to manage pain in a responsible way - some days it is difficult, I am doing it. I am succeeding. These are baby steps, that is OK.
Cutting away the BS and living my truth, sharing my story - this journey these are good things. Sometimes good things hurt, they remain good none the less. I am still looking for an apartment. Amazing how difficult it is finding one that will accept pets. This is a rural area, everyone has pets. Something will come along. Many people are keeping and eye out so I know the right place is around the corner. When I do get settled, y'all have a standing invite to visit.
Summer may be short, but here, it is amazing. Everything is so beautiful. Sitting outside on a warm summer evening, camping, shooting the bull with friends - it doesn't get any better than that. I would love to share the experience with all of you.
So, while some days are difficult and painful - more days are wonderful! I have so much to be grateful for. I smile, laugh, giggle - I see with more clarity than I have in a long time. Not just my failures, I have done good things - I have lived a wonderful life. I will continue forward. My life is fulfilling. Still a work in progress I am excited - rather than dread the future, now I anticipate it!
I will take my niece Amy's advise; cut myself a little slack. No, I am not all doom and gloom. I am grateful, humbled, and close to happy - everyday, I am closer to myself. Closer to finding within me my place of peace - One day I will arrive there. It is a journey, a process - I will arrive! As long as we have hope all things are possible. My story has a happy ending - perhaps better said; My story has a happy beginning!
Most importantly I know I am not alone. I know I am loved. I know how many wonderful people have helped me. I know God has a plan for me. I know I have done some "good" things. I know the future is filled with possibilities. I know there is hope!
Last weekend we went on a "Poker Run." Several hundred people on 4 wheelers ride around the back roads stopping at various stores, restaurants and bars. At each stop you get a paper signed or stamped. When you return to the Trailside you receive a playing card for every stamp you have. Then, whomever has the best poker hand wins. The air was cold but the sun was shining. I rode with Eileen. It was wonderful. Being outside, being with good people, enjoying the sunshine and nature. I truly enjoyed myself.
Easter Sunday we went to Mrs. Murphy's. She made a wonderful lasagna with salad, garlic bread, and several desert choices. The carrot cake was fantastic. This was a great day.
A few weeks ago Mr. Cring took me out to dinner. Mr. Cring is a wonderful man. Since we met, some 30 years ago he has been a "father figure" to me. He gave me a job as a popcorn hawker at the fair. At that time we made $.05 on each box of popcorn we sold. I was the only female hawker. That first year I made over $400.00. That is a lot of nickels. I worked my way up to Head Hawker! I am still the only female "head hawker" the Lions Club has had.
Mr. Cring also gave me a shot as a softball umpire. He allowed me to take the class for free. That summer I umpired men's softball games at the Rec Park and the Amvets. I think I was 14. Even though I was a little thing I did not have a problem with the men playing. I had a good strike zone and I was consistent. When I made a call, I did as Mr. Cring taught me - I was emphatic! If I made the wrong call I admitted it. I rode my bike from Constable to Malone. I would eat dinner at the Dairy Queen, umpire two or three games at $10.00 a game, then ride my bike home. It was a great summer.
This past Saturday Eileen and I went to a friend's house to craft. We learned how to make beautiful pine cone wreaths. I failed art in HS and I failed bulletin boards in college - my wreath isn't half bad. I am going to start another one today.
Zuko is doing great! He really enjoys the "country life." Chasing chipmunks is his favorite activity. He will scratch, dig, claw, bite at a tree attempting to get a chipper. I don't know what he would do if he ever actually caught one - We walk everyday on the golf course. Well I walk, Zuko runs. He runs and runs his tail wagging the entire time.
The weather warmed enough this weekend so I got my scooter going. When I ride around the yard Zuko runs along side of me. He loves it! I love to ride my little scooter. This week I am going to get a motorcycle permit. Hopefully, I can pass the test! Then I can take a class to obtain a motorcycle license. Another of the things on my bucket list. I don't want a motorcycle, perhaps a little bigger scooter.
Ever since I started riding a motorcycle, jeez back when I was 7 or 8 - riding has been a great source of enjoyment for me. I am not certain what it is; the freedom, the release, the thrill? When I ride I can just get lost in the moment. It feels so wonderful. I rode that little yellow Yamaha YZ 80 five or six hours a day. Mommie let me buy a Honda 125 when we lived in Constable. A bunch of kids had motorcycles. We rode all over those back roads evading the police. It was so much fun.
Sifting through the ashes and picking up the glass, yes these are difficult tasks. I don't spend every moment dwelling. Walking, crafting, hanging with friends and family - I have more wonderful moments than bad ones. Learning to manage pain in a responsible way - some days it is difficult, I am doing it. I am succeeding. These are baby steps, that is OK.
Cutting away the BS and living my truth, sharing my story - this journey these are good things. Sometimes good things hurt, they remain good none the less. I am still looking for an apartment. Amazing how difficult it is finding one that will accept pets. This is a rural area, everyone has pets. Something will come along. Many people are keeping and eye out so I know the right place is around the corner. When I do get settled, y'all have a standing invite to visit.
Summer may be short, but here, it is amazing. Everything is so beautiful. Sitting outside on a warm summer evening, camping, shooting the bull with friends - it doesn't get any better than that. I would love to share the experience with all of you.
So, while some days are difficult and painful - more days are wonderful! I have so much to be grateful for. I smile, laugh, giggle - I see with more clarity than I have in a long time. Not just my failures, I have done good things - I have lived a wonderful life. I will continue forward. My life is fulfilling. Still a work in progress I am excited - rather than dread the future, now I anticipate it!
I will take my niece Amy's advise; cut myself a little slack. No, I am not all doom and gloom. I am grateful, humbled, and close to happy - everyday, I am closer to myself. Closer to finding within me my place of peace - One day I will arrive there. It is a journey, a process - I will arrive! As long as we have hope all things are possible. My story has a happy ending - perhaps better said; My story has a happy beginning!
Monday, April 8, 2013
I Broke Things
I broke things. I hurt people. I let people down. This is not me. I am the fixer. I help people. As Mommie says: "Keep the Peace." That is my role. I don't know when it became my role or how it became my role. It was just the way it was. Then I fell apart. Then I hurt people I love. I disappointed, I failed.
I could say a million "I am sorry." That won't change the damage I have done. How in the world did everything get so out of my control? It seems I just stopped trying - I didn't. I was trying, I failed. I let everyone down. How did that happen? The system wore me out. I felt so helpless and hopeless. That big elephant, fear, sitting on my chest. I couldn't catch a break.
In a previous life I must have done some awful things. In this life I really did my best to help everyone. To "fix" everything. I made responsible decisions. I kept my word. I worked hard. Where in the world did I mess up? How did I become so lost?
Forgiveness is important - to heal from childhood I had to forgive. After I was injured at work I had only anger and grief. Who did I need to forgive? The system was eating me up - my body was failing me. I lost myself.
I need your forgiveness. I need to fix the things I broke. I need to make amends. Now, I still live in survival mode. Trying to make it through one moment at a time. Thinking ahead, or thinking big thoughts is too hard. Fearing I cannot fix what I have broken makes me choke. That is when I can't find my breath.
It doesn't matter what I do. I cannot change the damage I caused. What is the answer? What is the direction? "Keep the Peace." My place of peace. That is how I refer to me in a healthy state. I had that. I knew how that felt. Not anymore. Getting back to My Place of Peace, where is the map?
Why I believed it was my role to fix the world. No, it isn't that - Leave things better than I found them. Shine a light where there once were shadows. Perhaps, make it easier for the next person. It wasn't trying to fix the world, just trying to make my corner a little better than it was. I certainly messed up.
Survival mode, for me this means staying within myself. Shutting out everything. Keep my mind occupied with mundane TV shows, sports - Isolate and minimize contact with anyone. That is what I did. I reverted to coping strategies which worked in the past. In doing so I was hurting Liz, Em, Aldona Mae, Eileen, Lynn, Donald - everyone who loved me. Y'all were trying to help me. I kept slipping farther and farther into myself. I am so sorry.
I fix things not break them. At least I once was that person. The path of destruction I caused, please know that was not me. How and why? I don't have the answer - not yet, maybe never. I beg of you to realize it wasn't me. I did not choose, nor intend, nor desire causing so much hurt and pain. Where did my strength go?
Amazing isn't it? The power of depression. I became a completely different person. A person I loathed. How long was I gone? If you told me I could sink that low, I would disagree. I am a survivor. I am strong. I fix things. I broke everything...shattered everything - I could not see it. I could not get out of my own way.
This happened. Why? How could I allow this to happen? I couldn't stop it. It wasn't me. It was me. Can't change the past, oh how I wish I could. Accepting this responsibility - I broke things...
One moment I was living a life made from love, kindness, generosity, and faith - the next I was destroying everything. I was powerless to stop what was happening. I could not see it. Nothing to do with taking too much meds - nothing to do with the constant pain that wracks my body - it was something alive - depression? It is alive, like a parasite, it gets under your skin - sucks your life blood. Eats at your mind. Depression is palpable. Depression is invisible. Was I really too proud to admit it? Did I even know? How will I make amends?
There remains more questions than answers. There are close to 1/2 million shards of glass within me. As I move forward trying to repair what I broke, I anticipate pain as each tiny shard is expelled. I can't fail anymore. It is so hard. I must continue forward. I must resist the temptation of quitting.
This story, my story, there is a happy ending. It is up to me. I write the script. That elephant is heavy. Ironic isn't it? How we can see in others what we cannot see in ourselves. It is easier to give than to receive. It is easier to analyze someone else's life than look at our self.
The human condition - we are complex yet simple. Forever a paradoxical being. Wishing our hair, our eyes, our nose, our weight, our height - wishing we were different. Then, when we are different we bemoan that which makes us different. In a circle, moving in a circle, waiting until we come back around. It is watching someone else ride the Merry go Round - When their horse approaches we wave, then we stop, then we wave, then we stop - around and around the horse goes. When we can see it we wave, then we stop. One day, for whatever reason, I stopped waving. Depression? The elephant? Circumstance? It wasn't me. It could not have been me. I fix things. I broke things.
This is why pencils have erasers. Life does not have a back button. Nor does it have a reset button. I am responsible for what I broke. It wasn't me. How can I reconcile this? Filled with shame, guilt, and remorse I move forward. I wonder how thick the ice is; will my weight be too much? Certainly with this elephant sitting on my chest I am too heavy. Moving forward...writing a happy ending, returning to my place of peace - forgiveness, please forgive me. It wasn't me, I am responsible - I broke things.
I could say a million "I am sorry." That won't change the damage I have done. How in the world did everything get so out of my control? It seems I just stopped trying - I didn't. I was trying, I failed. I let everyone down. How did that happen? The system wore me out. I felt so helpless and hopeless. That big elephant, fear, sitting on my chest. I couldn't catch a break.
In a previous life I must have done some awful things. In this life I really did my best to help everyone. To "fix" everything. I made responsible decisions. I kept my word. I worked hard. Where in the world did I mess up? How did I become so lost?
Forgiveness is important - to heal from childhood I had to forgive. After I was injured at work I had only anger and grief. Who did I need to forgive? The system was eating me up - my body was failing me. I lost myself.
I need your forgiveness. I need to fix the things I broke. I need to make amends. Now, I still live in survival mode. Trying to make it through one moment at a time. Thinking ahead, or thinking big thoughts is too hard. Fearing I cannot fix what I have broken makes me choke. That is when I can't find my breath.
It doesn't matter what I do. I cannot change the damage I caused. What is the answer? What is the direction? "Keep the Peace." My place of peace. That is how I refer to me in a healthy state. I had that. I knew how that felt. Not anymore. Getting back to My Place of Peace, where is the map?
Why I believed it was my role to fix the world. No, it isn't that - Leave things better than I found them. Shine a light where there once were shadows. Perhaps, make it easier for the next person. It wasn't trying to fix the world, just trying to make my corner a little better than it was. I certainly messed up.
Survival mode, for me this means staying within myself. Shutting out everything. Keep my mind occupied with mundane TV shows, sports - Isolate and minimize contact with anyone. That is what I did. I reverted to coping strategies which worked in the past. In doing so I was hurting Liz, Em, Aldona Mae, Eileen, Lynn, Donald - everyone who loved me. Y'all were trying to help me. I kept slipping farther and farther into myself. I am so sorry.
I fix things not break them. At least I once was that person. The path of destruction I caused, please know that was not me. How and why? I don't have the answer - not yet, maybe never. I beg of you to realize it wasn't me. I did not choose, nor intend, nor desire causing so much hurt and pain. Where did my strength go?
Amazing isn't it? The power of depression. I became a completely different person. A person I loathed. How long was I gone? If you told me I could sink that low, I would disagree. I am a survivor. I am strong. I fix things. I broke everything...shattered everything - I could not see it. I could not get out of my own way.
This happened. Why? How could I allow this to happen? I couldn't stop it. It wasn't me. It was me. Can't change the past, oh how I wish I could. Accepting this responsibility - I broke things...
One moment I was living a life made from love, kindness, generosity, and faith - the next I was destroying everything. I was powerless to stop what was happening. I could not see it. Nothing to do with taking too much meds - nothing to do with the constant pain that wracks my body - it was something alive - depression? It is alive, like a parasite, it gets under your skin - sucks your life blood. Eats at your mind. Depression is palpable. Depression is invisible. Was I really too proud to admit it? Did I even know? How will I make amends?
There remains more questions than answers. There are close to 1/2 million shards of glass within me. As I move forward trying to repair what I broke, I anticipate pain as each tiny shard is expelled. I can't fail anymore. It is so hard. I must continue forward. I must resist the temptation of quitting.
This story, my story, there is a happy ending. It is up to me. I write the script. That elephant is heavy. Ironic isn't it? How we can see in others what we cannot see in ourselves. It is easier to give than to receive. It is easier to analyze someone else's life than look at our self.
The human condition - we are complex yet simple. Forever a paradoxical being. Wishing our hair, our eyes, our nose, our weight, our height - wishing we were different. Then, when we are different we bemoan that which makes us different. In a circle, moving in a circle, waiting until we come back around. It is watching someone else ride the Merry go Round - When their horse approaches we wave, then we stop, then we wave, then we stop - around and around the horse goes. When we can see it we wave, then we stop. One day, for whatever reason, I stopped waving. Depression? The elephant? Circumstance? It wasn't me. It could not have been me. I fix things. I broke things.
This is why pencils have erasers. Life does not have a back button. Nor does it have a reset button. I am responsible for what I broke. It wasn't me. How can I reconcile this? Filled with shame, guilt, and remorse I move forward. I wonder how thick the ice is; will my weight be too much? Certainly with this elephant sitting on my chest I am too heavy. Moving forward...writing a happy ending, returning to my place of peace - forgiveness, please forgive me. It wasn't me, I am responsible - I broke things.
Friday, April 5, 2013
Sifting Through The Ashes
Today is a very hard day. It is cold outside. The wind is bitter. It snows, sleets, rains - everything is brown and dark. Can't even take a walk.
Yesterday I went for my first "therapy" appointment. I don't like talk therapy. I don't like talking about myself and dredging up what is better left buried. No, it isn't better left buried. I know in order to find myself I must sift through the ashes. It is dirty hard work.
Today I am having a difficult time breathing. Can't find an apartment, can't afford the health insurance, can't find a pain management specialist - treading water - it is exhausting. I so want to prove I am doing better. Today I am not. No, I have not reverted to taking pain meds to numb myself. I do not want to walk that road again. I did laundry, emptied the trash, did the dishes, took Zuko for a ride, bought some KFC for lunch, talked with Wanda. Really I just want to sleep.
You know that commercial for COPD? The one with a lady lying on a couch and there is an elephant sitting on her chest. That is how I feel. Except my elephant is fear. Fear of everything. It is hard to breathe.
I don't want to disappoint anyone. I don't want anyone to be mad at me. Today is really hard. I cry, then I laugh at myself, then I cry some more. It is difficult to swallow. I can't breathe. Darn elephant is heavy. This is why I don't do therapy. When you say things out loud they become real. Pretending that my life is not a pile of ashes is easier.
I know I must sift through these ashes - since the day I was injured; September 17, 2008 the me I was and the life I had slowly burned to the ground. Powerless to stop it, I have to sift through the ashes. I have to examine each moment of each day. I have to understand how it all burned up and why I could not stop it. Just breathe, You don't know how difficult that can be until you can't do it.
Why our minds don't come with an off switch, I don't know. I need an off switch today. More glass, more glass, tiny sharp shards cutting through my organs, my skin, gathering in a pile on the floor. I will have to sweep those up. Just breathe.
Was a time when I had everything - how did it all burn to the ground? Why didn't I stop it? How lost I have been. Just get through this moment, just take this breath.
Yes, today is a hard day. My body hurts, my mind hurts, my heart aches, my soul cries - I am OK. Please don't worry - I am OK. I am not alone. I didn't sleep well last night. I am over tired and have a stinky migraine. I just have to slow down. It is going to be fine. I am going to be fine. Just a hard day today - I will get through it.
Yesterday I went for my first "therapy" appointment. I don't like talk therapy. I don't like talking about myself and dredging up what is better left buried. No, it isn't better left buried. I know in order to find myself I must sift through the ashes. It is dirty hard work.
Today I am having a difficult time breathing. Can't find an apartment, can't afford the health insurance, can't find a pain management specialist - treading water - it is exhausting. I so want to prove I am doing better. Today I am not. No, I have not reverted to taking pain meds to numb myself. I do not want to walk that road again. I did laundry, emptied the trash, did the dishes, took Zuko for a ride, bought some KFC for lunch, talked with Wanda. Really I just want to sleep.
You know that commercial for COPD? The one with a lady lying on a couch and there is an elephant sitting on her chest. That is how I feel. Except my elephant is fear. Fear of everything. It is hard to breathe.
I don't want to disappoint anyone. I don't want anyone to be mad at me. Today is really hard. I cry, then I laugh at myself, then I cry some more. It is difficult to swallow. I can't breathe. Darn elephant is heavy. This is why I don't do therapy. When you say things out loud they become real. Pretending that my life is not a pile of ashes is easier.
I know I must sift through these ashes - since the day I was injured; September 17, 2008 the me I was and the life I had slowly burned to the ground. Powerless to stop it, I have to sift through the ashes. I have to examine each moment of each day. I have to understand how it all burned up and why I could not stop it. Just breathe, You don't know how difficult that can be until you can't do it.
Why our minds don't come with an off switch, I don't know. I need an off switch today. More glass, more glass, tiny sharp shards cutting through my organs, my skin, gathering in a pile on the floor. I will have to sweep those up. Just breathe.
Was a time when I had everything - how did it all burn to the ground? Why didn't I stop it? How lost I have been. Just get through this moment, just take this breath.
Yes, today is a hard day. My body hurts, my mind hurts, my heart aches, my soul cries - I am OK. Please don't worry - I am OK. I am not alone. I didn't sleep well last night. I am over tired and have a stinky migraine. I just have to slow down. It is going to be fine. I am going to be fine. Just a hard day today - I will get through it.
Wednesday, April 3, 2013
Finding a Middle Ground...
So Monday Eileen took me to Burlington to see the rheumotologist. My BP was 166/90. Was a time when my BP was so low, nurses took it 2 or 3 times because they thought the cuff was broken. My pain level was 10. Pain elevates your BP.
I understand I was over medicating. I know why I was over medicating. I accept complete responsibility for the devastating impact this had on people I love.
Now, it is about tapering pain meds. OK, I am doing that. It is hard. It is difficult because I am in pain, and I know taking 1 pill - not 5 or 6 - will give me some relief. I also know taking 1 pill is not what I can do. I have been taking 1 pill every other day. Nucynta at night, or Percocet during the day. I am proud to say I have kept to that except on Sunday. Sure, I sit here arguing with myself.
"I am in pain. You can't see it, you don't know how awful it is. You can't understand how exhausting it is. Taking 1 Nucynta will give me relief. What is the harm in that? It is responsible pain management."
Then I remember how much pain I caused people I love as they watched me slide down a slippery slope. So instead of reaching for a pill I take Zuko for a walk. (he had a bad seizure this morning, not himself yet.) I take a hot shower. I watch television. I write. I put on the scent warmer. I stretch. I use liboderm patches. Turn on the heating pad - I do not reach over and take a pill.
It is difficult. It is much harder than quitting alcohol. There are so many layers of pain. Some is emotional (I am going tomorrow for my first mental health appt.) The rest of it is a manifestation of the multiple maladies plaguing my body. My right leg, hips, back, neck - hurt every waking moment. Fibromyalgia points are tender to the touch of a blanket. Joints in my hands, feet, knees, ankles, are inflamed and ache. My muscles feel sore, tender, bruised. Using all my mental capacity, forming alternatives means of coping; I do the best I can. Sometimes the fear and panic take over. You know how some nights you lie in bed and your mind just won't shut off? Over and over the thoughts keep turning; then you start to think way bigger than you should? Keep it simple, stay in the moment, breathe...should be easy, it is not.
I figure there has to be a middle ground. I am seeking a pain management specialist. Hopefully I can see one in the next week or so. I could give the pain meds to Eileen. Then they would not be right here. I don't do this because I have to control my use of them. I made this mess now I have to fix it.
The past four years I have lived in a fog of depression and grief. To place myself back into a place of peace, I have to do the work. This means those pills have to be right there and I have to say no to them. I do hope to find an alternative treatment. My reality is that I am permanently and totally disabled. I cannot work, but I can live. I am not who I once was, I can learn to be who this phase of life means me to be. I can be happy, fulfilled, satisfied - there is always hope.
So if today I lay low, rest a lot, stay in bed, watch TV, write, walk Zuko, (though the wind and cold are freaking him out today.)this is because I need to. It is not because I have taken narcotics. It is just what I need to do. Today to cope with life I need to lay low. I am not running, hiding, escaping - just managing this new me as best I can. That is OK, it is alright - I am on the right path. I will continue to move forward.
I understand I was over medicating. I know why I was over medicating. I accept complete responsibility for the devastating impact this had on people I love.
Now, it is about tapering pain meds. OK, I am doing that. It is hard. It is difficult because I am in pain, and I know taking 1 pill - not 5 or 6 - will give me some relief. I also know taking 1 pill is not what I can do. I have been taking 1 pill every other day. Nucynta at night, or Percocet during the day. I am proud to say I have kept to that except on Sunday. Sure, I sit here arguing with myself.
"I am in pain. You can't see it, you don't know how awful it is. You can't understand how exhausting it is. Taking 1 Nucynta will give me relief. What is the harm in that? It is responsible pain management."
Then I remember how much pain I caused people I love as they watched me slide down a slippery slope. So instead of reaching for a pill I take Zuko for a walk. (he had a bad seizure this morning, not himself yet.) I take a hot shower. I watch television. I write. I put on the scent warmer. I stretch. I use liboderm patches. Turn on the heating pad - I do not reach over and take a pill.
It is difficult. It is much harder than quitting alcohol. There are so many layers of pain. Some is emotional (I am going tomorrow for my first mental health appt.) The rest of it is a manifestation of the multiple maladies plaguing my body. My right leg, hips, back, neck - hurt every waking moment. Fibromyalgia points are tender to the touch of a blanket. Joints in my hands, feet, knees, ankles, are inflamed and ache. My muscles feel sore, tender, bruised. Using all my mental capacity, forming alternatives means of coping; I do the best I can. Sometimes the fear and panic take over. You know how some nights you lie in bed and your mind just won't shut off? Over and over the thoughts keep turning; then you start to think way bigger than you should? Keep it simple, stay in the moment, breathe...should be easy, it is not.
I figure there has to be a middle ground. I am seeking a pain management specialist. Hopefully I can see one in the next week or so. I could give the pain meds to Eileen. Then they would not be right here. I don't do this because I have to control my use of them. I made this mess now I have to fix it.
The past four years I have lived in a fog of depression and grief. To place myself back into a place of peace, I have to do the work. This means those pills have to be right there and I have to say no to them. I do hope to find an alternative treatment. My reality is that I am permanently and totally disabled. I cannot work, but I can live. I am not who I once was, I can learn to be who this phase of life means me to be. I can be happy, fulfilled, satisfied - there is always hope.
So if today I lay low, rest a lot, stay in bed, watch TV, write, walk Zuko, (though the wind and cold are freaking him out today.)this is because I need to. It is not because I have taken narcotics. It is just what I need to do. Today to cope with life I need to lay low. I am not running, hiding, escaping - just managing this new me as best I can. That is OK, it is alright - I am on the right path. I will continue to move forward.
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