We're into our 4th week of school, (I think). Things seem to be going well. BigSpeak really likes her teacher, as expected. LittleSpeak is thriving. And, knock on wood, but I seem to be doing pretty well. My cocktail of meds seems about right. I have small set backs; Big was home sick all of last week, and DaddySpeak was out of town for work, but I didn't collapse. I had to scale back a bit this week to recover, but I seem to be doing well. I feel like we're finally thriving, instead of just surviving. It's a nice feeling. I hope it lasts.
One thing that's new is the stories Little has been coming home from school with every day. At first I thought she was embellishing, as she's prone to do. But as the days pass, and each day I get a similar tale, I'm starting to think maybe most of it is true. Little's class seems to have an awful lot of chiefs and almost no Indians. Everyday she comes home with a story of how E told K she can't be in their club-du-jour. Or how D threw his blocks at the teacher when she told him it was time to clean up. Every day I hear how A told the teacher, he "hates school and the rules."
What the heck??? Who are these kids???
I'm not sure if it's because this grade has a lot of siblings or if we're just paying more attention, but none of that type of stuff EVER came up in Big's class. They were what you would expect of five year old boys and girls. They were mostly sweet and very young. This group? These kids are like five going on fifteen.
Little tells me these stories, pointing out, of course, how she isn't the perpetrator in any of these cases. I fear, in fact, that she's one of the "good" kids. Which is really kinda scary for her teacher. We know how strong-willed Little can be, and I think she might not hold a candle to some of these kids. In fact, she has been a "victim" of the Mean Girls on more than one occasion. (I've witnessed it going on during Big kid pick up.) When I saw it happening to her, I wasn't entirely surprised. The major culprit is a neighbor and Little and her are "hot & cold." They're either the best of buds, or ready to go to blows. Honestly, I'm not that crazy about this other girl, but Little seems to hold her own, so I'm going along for now. The last time I saw the Mean Girl action occurring, I called her over and confirmed what I was seeing. ("E says I can't be in their club because all their shoes flash and mine don't. It hurts my feelings.") Little doesn't take it lying down either. She gets all up in E's face, points her finger and tells her off. And while her feelings are hurt, she doesn't turn into a puddle AT ALL. But, anyone's self-esteem is going to take a hit at some point, so last time I saw this and called her over, this was our conversation?
"Ummm, yeah. Little, first of all, there are NO CLUBS at school. The only clubs that exist are ones that ANYONE can be in. If they exclude someone, then that's not fair, or nice and it's a form of bullying. There is NO Bullying allowed at school."
"Also, E is not your firend."
Yeah she is mommy. And I want to play pink pony tag." (Or whatever crap they're into that day.)
"No Little, she's not. A friend doesn't put conditions on being included. A friend doesn't care if you have flashing shoes, or any shoes for that matter. A friend, sees you have different shoes, and either points out how it's cool you're different. Or suggests everyone take of their shoes, and be equal. When she talks to you like that she's not being your friend. Tell her you want to play, but not if she's going to be mean. Then walk away and find someone who is a friend."
They're FIVE! It's gonna be a long year is all I'm saying.
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Saturday, September 10, 2011
Remember...and pay it forward
There's so much emotion for this day. I feel like the whole world, or at least all of the US, we're holding our breath. Just hoping to get through this day. Through the memorials, the reminders of how much time has passed and how much hasn't. Ten years can feel like a life time and a blink of the eye. Ten years ago, I was newly married. I remember at some point during the day, watching the TV, thinking, the year I was married will be remembered for this awful tragedy. Such a happy time in my life was marred by such blackness. It was a selfish thought. So many had lost so much and I was concerned about myself. At that point, I was allowed that kind of selfishness. I was young and in love and all I needed to worry about was me. And that's how it should be at that point in your life. Watching the attacks on September 11, 2001 changed who I am, and how I approach things. I lost a large part of innocence. I know that sounds so cliche, but it's true. I feel like something in me broke that day. How could people hate so much, that they would kill others to show that hate? Not just one or two crazy guys, a whole group of them, willing to carry out such an awful deed. You could argue, that in someways the people in the buildings were of no consequence to them because they would never see them. They were the nameless, faceless enemy to them. But the people on the planes? They sat by them. There were kids on those planes. How can you be willing to hurt them? I still can't wrap my head around it.
When the first tower fell, it was so surreal. It was like you were waiting for an announcer to break in and say it was a movie, and now that you were hooked in, you had to come see how it ends. Only it wasn't a movie. It was real. I remember as that first tower fell thinking, "Oh my God, there are still people in there. There are emergency personal who ran in to help and they can't be out yet." And everywhere you went that day, the image of those planes, the buildings, where all you saw or heard about. We went into work that day, but no one did much. Most people spent the day trying to contact loved ones on the East Coast and watching the footage on the Internet. I have family in New York, they contacted my parents in relative short order & informed us of who was where and that they were safe. We were learning of what a mess the communications were there, so much of it was linked to the buildings. We were grateful to know they were okay and that they were able to tell us so. It would not be that easy for some many others. After several days, I had to stop watching TV and listening to the radio. I think they call it "catastrophe porn." It's like you're hooked on the image of the terror. We've seen it with other situations, where the media play images of tragedy over and over and over again. In this case, it didn't desensitize, or numb you. In this case, it just made you feel sad and helpless.
I spiraled into depression after September 11, 2001. It was the last straw, in my case. It's really hard for me to see all the footage again. I'm doing my best to minimize it. I don't want to feel that sense of helplessness or hopelessness again. It's hard for me to think about this event without feeling that way. I have kids now. I don't have the luxury to wallow in that kind of pain.
What I do want to remember is how Americans behaved for the next several months. People were generally nicer to each other. We stopped cutting each other off in traffic. We held the door or elevator for each other. We made eye contact and smiled at each other. On airplanes, the pilots asked us to greet each other. We weren't nameless or faceless, perhaps if that had been the case, the terrorists might not have been as inclined to act. It seemed everyone had a picture of an American flag in their rear car window. We collectively agreed that life was too short and that we were going to show those who hated us that they were wrong about us. We're naive about how the rest of the world views us. We're brought up to believe that everyone is jealous of us and wishes they could be American. Not true, by a long shot. But the thing that is true, is that we are strong and we have each others' backs. The terrorists assumed we were weak and afraid of death, but they were wrong. The people on Flight 93 showed them that while we don't have a death wish, we will protect our own however we need to. The emergency personal who ran into those buildings to get people out; showed them, that we will sacrifice if that's what required of us. Our spirit and resolve is strong. I can't explain to my kids why those people had so much hatred that they wanted to hurt us so badly. But I can show them, that most people are generally good. And when it comes down to it, good always wins.
I know we're supposed to pause in memory at 8:46 EST. We'll be asleep here on the West Coast. But I'm going to try to remember the sense of family we had for months after. I'm going to let people in, in traffic. I'll hold the door for them. This week, I'll go donate blood. Maybe pay for the coffee of the guy behind me at Starbucks. I'm going to pay it forward tomorrow; And the next day and the next. Because the terrorists didn't win 10 years ago. And they don't win today either. I hope you'll pay it forward this week too.
When the first tower fell, it was so surreal. It was like you were waiting for an announcer to break in and say it was a movie, and now that you were hooked in, you had to come see how it ends. Only it wasn't a movie. It was real. I remember as that first tower fell thinking, "Oh my God, there are still people in there. There are emergency personal who ran in to help and they can't be out yet." And everywhere you went that day, the image of those planes, the buildings, where all you saw or heard about. We went into work that day, but no one did much. Most people spent the day trying to contact loved ones on the East Coast and watching the footage on the Internet. I have family in New York, they contacted my parents in relative short order & informed us of who was where and that they were safe. We were learning of what a mess the communications were there, so much of it was linked to the buildings. We were grateful to know they were okay and that they were able to tell us so. It would not be that easy for some many others. After several days, I had to stop watching TV and listening to the radio. I think they call it "catastrophe porn." It's like you're hooked on the image of the terror. We've seen it with other situations, where the media play images of tragedy over and over and over again. In this case, it didn't desensitize, or numb you. In this case, it just made you feel sad and helpless.
I spiraled into depression after September 11, 2001. It was the last straw, in my case. It's really hard for me to see all the footage again. I'm doing my best to minimize it. I don't want to feel that sense of helplessness or hopelessness again. It's hard for me to think about this event without feeling that way. I have kids now. I don't have the luxury to wallow in that kind of pain.
What I do want to remember is how Americans behaved for the next several months. People were generally nicer to each other. We stopped cutting each other off in traffic. We held the door or elevator for each other. We made eye contact and smiled at each other. On airplanes, the pilots asked us to greet each other. We weren't nameless or faceless, perhaps if that had been the case, the terrorists might not have been as inclined to act. It seemed everyone had a picture of an American flag in their rear car window. We collectively agreed that life was too short and that we were going to show those who hated us that they were wrong about us. We're naive about how the rest of the world views us. We're brought up to believe that everyone is jealous of us and wishes they could be American. Not true, by a long shot. But the thing that is true, is that we are strong and we have each others' backs. The terrorists assumed we were weak and afraid of death, but they were wrong. The people on Flight 93 showed them that while we don't have a death wish, we will protect our own however we need to. The emergency personal who ran into those buildings to get people out; showed them, that we will sacrifice if that's what required of us. Our spirit and resolve is strong. I can't explain to my kids why those people had so much hatred that they wanted to hurt us so badly. But I can show them, that most people are generally good. And when it comes down to it, good always wins.
I know we're supposed to pause in memory at 8:46 EST. We'll be asleep here on the West Coast. But I'm going to try to remember the sense of family we had for months after. I'm going to let people in, in traffic. I'll hold the door for them. This week, I'll go donate blood. Maybe pay for the coffee of the guy behind me at Starbucks. I'm going to pay it forward tomorrow; And the next day and the next. Because the terrorists didn't win 10 years ago. And they don't win today either. I hope you'll pay it forward this week too.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
10 Years
I'm watching all these upcoming memorials for the 10th anniversary of 9/11. I'm torn about how this makes me feel. This 10th anniversary is going to be hard for me. It's what prompted me to write after not feeling like I needed to for a month or so. So much of writing here is for me, to help me work through things in my mind. Help me see the forest for the trees, so to speak. I've been feeling tired enough, but well enough, not to need the therapy that writing is for me. I'd been able to exercise and sleep w/out needing to write. That's huge for me. I fear that this anniversary may set me back some. I hope not. The time period after 9/11 was a very dark time for me. I didn't lose anyone I knew. But still I felt the pain of the day so deeply. I still do. I'd managed to put it behind a closed door in my mind. Then a week ago, I was walking through a book store, and the display of all the 9/11 books was put up. It stopped me. Left a lump in my throat that hasn't really gone away. Made me realize how easy it was to just open that door and let those feelings overcome me again. I'm one of the lucky ones, if I had lost someone directly, I couldn't put it away like that. I don't know how those people have survived this long.
I just need to get that off my chest. I'm hoping this will be enough. I fear not, but maybe.
I just need to get that off my chest. I'm hoping this will be enough. I fear not, but maybe.
Progress
I'm still around. Just busy, and while at the beach exhausted. Too exhausted to deal w/PITA wifi issues. Busy living. So I did write some posts, but they never posted to the site. I'm debating if I should post them or not. I probably will, just after I get "caught up."
School has started. Little is in kindergarten, and as predicted, there's no living with her. Big has started 3rd grade. I'm working on figuring out schedules w/2 soccer teams, practices, dance classes, gymnastics, (maybe,) etc... I've been walking every day for a week now. That's big for me. My pain level has reduced significantly. Not always; like not this morning, because Little had me up half the night. But I believe (knock on wood) that my good hours are starting to out number the bad ones. I'm not sure the last time I felt like that; maybe when I was pregnant with Little. It's been a while. So there's that.
School has started. Little is in kindergarten, and as predicted, there's no living with her. Big has started 3rd grade. I'm working on figuring out schedules w/2 soccer teams, practices, dance classes, gymnastics, (maybe,) etc... I've been walking every day for a week now. That's big for me. My pain level has reduced significantly. Not always; like not this morning, because Little had me up half the night. But I believe (knock on wood) that my good hours are starting to out number the bad ones. I'm not sure the last time I felt like that; maybe when I was pregnant with Little. It's been a while. So there's that.
Tuesday, June 07, 2011
To The Winner - The Spoils
I told my husband, if he keeps bringing it up, he's taunting me into writing about it. It's already taking on epic proportions that will be an ongoing private joke between us.
Last night around 9:30ish, I was downstairs on my computer, editing photos, and skimming some rerun. He'd gone upstairs about 9 to take a shower before going to bed. I could hear him walking around, opening windows, etc...usual bedtime routine stuff. All the sudden, he comes racing down the stairs calling the dog. Poor Merit, was sound asleep next to me. She jumped up and was running to the front door barking before she was completely awake. You could see she was perplexed from the look on her face. Daddy was calling for her, so she was on it! He sent her out front barking. I assumed there must be two cats out front fighting or a raccoon or something. (He wouldn't send my preshus babah out after bad guys who could hurt her, right? Though, that might be better than a flea infested rat. Gah!) He called her right back in and closed the door.
"What's going on?"
"Teenagers!"
???
"There was a group of teenagers coming down the street w/toilet paper. They were going to TP L's house!" (Next door's teenage daughter.)
blank stare
???
"So I sent the dog after them."
"To lick them? Why did you stop them?"
"Well they weren't even being that stealthy about it. They have to at least try!"
??? "Did you tell them to get off your lawn too? What are you 80?"
Only now he was gone & out the front door again. A few minutes later he walks back in w/4-5 rolls of partially used TP.
"To the winner goes the spoils!"
"Wha?? What are you going to do w/that??"
That settles it, I'm buying him a cane, so he can raise it up and wave it at the kids as he tells them he'll keep any of the balls that land on his lawn.
Last night around 9:30ish, I was downstairs on my computer, editing photos, and skimming some rerun. He'd gone upstairs about 9 to take a shower before going to bed. I could hear him walking around, opening windows, etc...usual bedtime routine stuff. All the sudden, he comes racing down the stairs calling the dog. Poor Merit, was sound asleep next to me. She jumped up and was running to the front door barking before she was completely awake. You could see she was perplexed from the look on her face. Daddy was calling for her, so she was on it! He sent her out front barking. I assumed there must be two cats out front fighting or a raccoon or something. (He wouldn't send my preshus babah out after bad guys who could hurt her, right? Though, that might be better than a flea infested rat. Gah!) He called her right back in and closed the door.
"What's going on?"
"Teenagers!"
???
"There was a group of teenagers coming down the street w/toilet paper. They were going to TP L's house!" (Next door's teenage daughter.)
blank stare
???
"So I sent the dog after them."
"To lick them? Why did you stop them?"
"Well they weren't even being that stealthy about it. They have to at least try!"
??? "Did you tell them to get off your lawn too? What are you 80?"
Only now he was gone & out the front door again. A few minutes later he walks back in w/4-5 rolls of partially used TP.
"To the winner goes the spoils!"
"Wha?? What are you going to do w/that??"
That settles it, I'm buying him a cane, so he can raise it up and wave it at the kids as he tells them he'll keep any of the balls that land on his lawn.
Saturday, June 04, 2011
Lately...
Girls had their dance recital today. Their dance school does a very extravagant one every other year; so this year was what they call an, "ice cream social." Dance school serves ice cream sandwiches at the end. They break it into 3 separate half hour shows so the little kids won't totally lose it, waiting around. Of course, that meant my two girls were in the first & the last of those three shows. We spent our day running around before & between shows; standard family stuff.
DaddySpeak and I had taken separate cars for the first show, because BigSpeak had to be there so much earlier for rehearsal. This meant no pain pills as I was driving. Between shows,I came home and felt frustrated because I'd, once again, picked things up as I left, to have them undone in the short time I was gone. I was also in a TON of pain. I started snapping at Daddy and the girls. He finally had, had enough and snapped back. He pointed out that he was dealing w/a leak in our roof all morning, but he "doesn't get credit for the stuff he does do, only the things I feel he missed." He was right. I apologized. I told him, "I'm just so frustrated. I do things and I feel like no one helps, and I know he does. I'm just frustrated by how I feel and how little I can do." He replied, "You're frustrated, I'm frustrated! There's been a lot of downside and very little up(side) these last three years."
He's right; only it's been 4 years. I hurt my back four years ago. I honestly don't know why he stays. I can't be very much fun to be around. I feel like I spend my days apologizing to him and the girls for all the things I can't do. Or the things I didn't do, so he has to pick up my slack. Between that, I'm yelling at him because I'm tired, in pain and frustrated, so I take it out on him.
Lately, I wonder if my family wouldn't be better off without me. I hold them back so much. I'm not fun to be around. Since I can't take the pain pills unless there's another adult around, I never get to the point of relief any more. I don't even eat dinner with them, by that time of the day my pain is so bad I'm flat on the couch. Sitting at a table is hard to consider. I lie on the couch, so I can be there and still be part of the dinner conversation. My reality for everything these days is, I get through it. I get through the day. I get through dinner. I get through their recitals, games, etc... It's not fair to them. They deserve more. They deserve a mom and a wife who can be present and happy. Who is more focused on taking their pictures, than how much longer till we're home for good and I can take something for pain and lie down.
This is not living. I don't want to pretend it is anymore.
DaddySpeak and I had taken separate cars for the first show, because BigSpeak had to be there so much earlier for rehearsal. This meant no pain pills as I was driving. Between shows,I came home and felt frustrated because I'd, once again, picked things up as I left, to have them undone in the short time I was gone. I was also in a TON of pain. I started snapping at Daddy and the girls. He finally had, had enough and snapped back. He pointed out that he was dealing w/a leak in our roof all morning, but he "doesn't get credit for the stuff he does do, only the things I feel he missed." He was right. I apologized. I told him, "I'm just so frustrated. I do things and I feel like no one helps, and I know he does. I'm just frustrated by how I feel and how little I can do." He replied, "You're frustrated, I'm frustrated! There's been a lot of downside and very little up(side) these last three years."
He's right; only it's been 4 years. I hurt my back four years ago. I honestly don't know why he stays. I can't be very much fun to be around. I feel like I spend my days apologizing to him and the girls for all the things I can't do. Or the things I didn't do, so he has to pick up my slack. Between that, I'm yelling at him because I'm tired, in pain and frustrated, so I take it out on him.
Lately, I wonder if my family wouldn't be better off without me. I hold them back so much. I'm not fun to be around. Since I can't take the pain pills unless there's another adult around, I never get to the point of relief any more. I don't even eat dinner with them, by that time of the day my pain is so bad I'm flat on the couch. Sitting at a table is hard to consider. I lie on the couch, so I can be there and still be part of the dinner conversation. My reality for everything these days is, I get through it. I get through the day. I get through dinner. I get through their recitals, games, etc... It's not fair to them. They deserve more. They deserve a mom and a wife who can be present and happy. Who is more focused on taking their pictures, than how much longer till we're home for good and I can take something for pain and lie down.
This is not living. I don't want to pretend it is anymore.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Traveling Pants of the Fat-Arce Sisterhood
I'm not sure if I should glad or insulted.
Walked Big to school today and on our way home a neighbor stopped Little and I.
"What pants size do you wear? I have a really good reason for asking."Her intent was in the right place.
(What do you say to that?) I told her my size, (which I'm not sharing here, because it upsets me,) and then added, sigh "It's the largest I've ever been in my life."
"I wanted to know, because I thought so. That's the size I was and I've been having a really hard time losing it, hormones, but I've finally gotten to the point where I'm down a size and can't wear these anymore."
She continued, "A friend gave me these pants and they're really good pants. I had a really hard time when I had to dress for stuff, these saved me. I wanted to pass them on to someone else in need. When you're out of them, have lost the weight, (I know you will,) pass them on to someone else who might need them or you can give them to me and I'll pass them along to someone else."
Maybe they're magical pants and now the weight will come off.
I'm back trying to tackle my weight and dealing with my Fibro, (FM) at the same time. If you've dealt with chronic pain, you know that taking on other challenges (losing a vice,) is doubly hard, because it's often the thing that gives you some level of comfort. I've had a really hard time wrapping my head around Low-Carb, (LC,) while on Weight Watchers. Problem is, I'll see something I want and know I have enough points and eat it. I seem to forget to deal with the carb issue till it impacts me negatively. At the very least, carbs are contributing to my FM, by making me bloated and uncomfortable. At the worst? They're part of the reason I'm having such bad symptoms. Things got bad enough this weekend where I realized that I would be willing to live on next to nothing if it would assure me a pain-free existence. Once I hit that point, it's not so hard to give up anything.
I just want to feel better.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Hello, I'm still here
Hellloooo!!!
I'm still alive! Things are...well, things mostly just are, that's all. I'm very day-to-day. I overdid Satuday & spent Sunday on pain pills in bed. Last two days have not been stellar; mostly waiting for DaddySpeak to get home so I can take a pain pill. Each day's a bit better than the next, until it's not. In the meantime, we had a softball season; BigSpeak's team came in 2nd overall!
The outlaws came for a 2 week visit, during which LittleSpeak turned 5! (Christ-on-a-Cracker! How the heck did that happen???) and Big made her First Communion. 
This week Big turned 8!!! (I don't understand how these children 
are so big all the sudden!) 
(Also, you may have noticed, Big got 12" cut off her hair.
) Today, is DaddySpeak & I's 10th anniversary. Woot! No, I don't know why he hasn't gone out for cigarettes, even though he doesn't smoke. I'm extremely thankful and lucky that he hasn't.
I know I haven't written in so long; it's just that I have really bad days and when I have moments (and that's all they are,) of ability to do something (laundry! dishes! my life is overflowing with excitement, no?) I tend to try and do stuff for the kids, instead of something for me. I have this sense that I'm failing my kids, but to date, I've only missed 2 of Big's games. I'm struggling not to let my Fibro be the thing that holds us back. I feel it, but so far I think they don't. They know I'm not well. They know mommy gets really grouchy sometimes (pain related). Overall, I don't think they feel much different about their living situation then their other friends.
So Hi! My doctor feels my meds are the right cocktail at the right times and it's just a matter of 3 steps forward, 2 steps back. It's really slow, but it is moving in a forward direction. Each of those things I mentioned deserved a post of it's own. Maybe they'll be forthcoming in the future (I can re-purpose scrapbook pages for those events. ;-) I'm nothing if not resourceful!
I think I'm at the top of this hill (knock on wood,) or at least, close to it. I'm hoping that I'm about to be on the downward slope soon.
I'm still alive! Things are...well, things mostly just are, that's all. I'm very day-to-day. I overdid Satuday & spent Sunday on pain pills in bed. Last two days have not been stellar; mostly waiting for DaddySpeak to get home so I can take a pain pill. Each day's a bit better than the next, until it's not. In the meantime, we had a softball season; BigSpeak's team came in 2nd overall!
The outlaws came for a 2 week visit, during which LittleSpeak turned 5! (Christ-on-a-Cracker! How the heck did that happen???) and Big made her First Communion. 
This week Big turned 8!!! (I don't understand how these children 
are so big all the sudden!) 
(Also, you may have noticed, Big got 12" cut off her hair.
) Today, is DaddySpeak & I's 10th anniversary. Woot! No, I don't know why he hasn't gone out for cigarettes, even though he doesn't smoke. I'm extremely thankful and lucky that he hasn't.I know I haven't written in so long; it's just that I have really bad days and when I have moments (and that's all they are,) of ability to do something (laundry! dishes! my life is overflowing with excitement, no?) I tend to try and do stuff for the kids, instead of something for me. I have this sense that I'm failing my kids, but to date, I've only missed 2 of Big's games. I'm struggling not to let my Fibro be the thing that holds us back. I feel it, but so far I think they don't. They know I'm not well. They know mommy gets really grouchy sometimes (pain related). Overall, I don't think they feel much different about their living situation then their other friends.
So Hi! My doctor feels my meds are the right cocktail at the right times and it's just a matter of 3 steps forward, 2 steps back. It's really slow, but it is moving in a forward direction. Each of those things I mentioned deserved a post of it's own. Maybe they'll be forthcoming in the future (I can re-purpose scrapbook pages for those events. ;-) I'm nothing if not resourceful!
I think I'm at the top of this hill (knock on wood,) or at least, close to it. I'm hoping that I'm about to be on the downward slope soon.
Thursday, April 14, 2011
My New CopyWriter...
I always take a quick peek, before bed, to see what Mir has posted. She's the writer I aspire to be; witty, pithy, funny...She's been having a rough time of it lately, and she's shared a lot of it with us. I know she doesn't share it all, she's good at setting boundaries for what is and isn't her story to tell. (Something I probably need to work on.) When I read the paragraph below, my mouth hit the ground; I've struggled to articulate where I'm at, why I'm frustrated and how lost it makes me all feel. Here she is putting it into a short paragraph, when I took up pages. The paragraphs after are my comments to her. Though, I kind of feel like I ought to give her crap for not writing this a day earlier. Would've saved all of us a lot of time and stress, no?
"I am somewhat prone to those sorts of rages. Sometimes I think I majored in righteous indignation in college. As we muddle through helping Monkey and the school deal with his meltdowns, every bewildered “He just gets so ANGRY” from someone who doesn’t quite get it is a little knife in my heart. Anger is a shielding emotion. It’s much easier to be angry than to be sad. Misery is vulnerable; outrage is invincible. I know why Monkey gets mad—being pissed at everyone still feels like being in control, while admitting that you feel lost and hopeless is a free-fall."
This paragraph is me right now. It's me I'm angry with; me and this damn FM. I'm angry w/everyone who doesn't understand, because I feel these are the people who should understand and should help me. I know, in my heart, they are doing the best that they can do. But the fact that I need more, make me sad, and scared...and angry.
I'm glad you have Otto, and I have my husband, who for all the bitching I do about him, is my rock in all of this. (And puts up with all my bitching.) I constantly apologize to him too. I can't understand why he puts up with me and all my shite. He wasn't family, he choose to be here, knowing what he was getting at the time too. (Mostly knowing, nobody really knows till you're physically living with it.) I know when he says he's not leaving he's not, it's just hard to believe when so many others do.
Thanks for giving a voice to feelings I have so much trouble expressing on my own.
Here's to the end of the week, and a large glass of wine.
"I am somewhat prone to those sorts of rages. Sometimes I think I majored in righteous indignation in college. As we muddle through helping Monkey and the school deal with his meltdowns, every bewildered “He just gets so ANGRY” from someone who doesn’t quite get it is a little knife in my heart. Anger is a shielding emotion. It’s much easier to be angry than to be sad. Misery is vulnerable; outrage is invincible. I know why Monkey gets mad—being pissed at everyone still feels like being in control, while admitting that you feel lost and hopeless is a free-fall."
This paragraph is me right now. It's me I'm angry with; me and this damn FM. I'm angry w/everyone who doesn't understand, because I feel these are the people who should understand and should help me. I know, in my heart, they are doing the best that they can do. But the fact that I need more, make me sad, and scared...and angry.
I'm glad you have Otto, and I have my husband, who for all the bitching I do about him, is my rock in all of this. (And puts up with all my bitching.) I constantly apologize to him too. I can't understand why he puts up with me and all my shite. He wasn't family, he choose to be here, knowing what he was getting at the time too. (Mostly knowing, nobody really knows till you're physically living with it.) I know when he says he's not leaving he's not, it's just hard to believe when so many others do.
Thanks for giving a voice to feelings I have so much trouble expressing on my own.
Here's to the end of the week, and a large glass of wine.
And then I stepped in it....
I haven't really had the energy to write about my doctor's appointment, mostly because there really isn't anything new to report. I'll tell you more when there's more to tell. Basically, it went well, let's just leave it at that. So onto what that title is about...
My kids are on Spring Break this week. That's, at least part of, why, I haven't had the extra energy to write. Especially considering there really wasn't anything to write. Been doing my best to keep them busy and out of trouble. Simultaneously, trying not to overdo it. Blah, blah, blah...the usual blather I've been putting out lately.
Before I tell you what happened, I guess I need to provide a small amount of backstory here;
My brother's family is moving out of Silicon Valley. (Don't even get me started on my mom's reaction to this, to say she's not happy would be an understatement. She has trouble with change.) It's not my story to tell, so the long and short of it is this; they decided before things got any tighter, (budget-cuts,) they wanted to get into a smaller house payment. (No, they weren't having money problems! They just saw what was happening with public workers and did the long term math. They are being pro-active. I'm not making any kind of declaration about their financial situation; they are fine. They just want to stay that way.) They did some research and found an area they could better afford, with decent schools and from which they could still commute. That's the basics of it. They put their house on the market and it sold in like a week. Right now, most homes here are taking about 2 months to sell. They weren't entirely ready to move; read; kids are still in school. In the interim, they are living with my parents. It's temporary, and it was planned out. But it's obviously not the norm for my family. So that's your back story. My brother's family has recently moved in with my parents.
I think I mentioned a time or two before, that my mom and I have our issues. That many times those issues seem to be more about what she'd like to say to my brother or Sister-In-Law (SIL,) but instead says to me.
So, now you get what I mean when I say she's started in on me. That little exchange is typical of what happens between us. It's a little dance we do. The whole conversation will be moving along about the kids and whatnot, and she'll throw a little jab in there like that. When I've been dealing with it for a while, I'm better at not engaging her. Right now, I'm out of practice. Not to mention, my defenses are down, because I'm so tired, in pain, etc... If you're still reading this, you are a real trooper, or need to get a hobby. Oh hey, maybe reading blogs is your hobby! Good for you! Because It's taking me this long to get to the story this whole post is supposed to be about. I've never claimed to be short winded.
The Start of the Actual Blog Post: (Cue trumpets!)
Today's event, for Spring Break, was supposed to be at a park w/a dozen or so other families from school. Everyone brings lunch and we have a picnic and let the kids burn some energy. It rained this morning, of course. But, I had a backup plan! We took the girls to movies. You may remember that movie going with BigSpeak, (Big,) has not had great success in the past. But it was raining, and we went to see Hop. It's about the Easter Bunny, how scary could it be? I asked my mom if she wanted to go, partly because I knew she wanted me to ask her, and partly because I knew it would be easier with the two girls, if things did not go well. (They were mostly fine, BTW.) Movie, was all good. We had one little mishap w/candy that G'ma let them pick out, but that was all. (Big picked out "sticky candy," she shouldn't have with her braces. It wasn't a big deal.) My mom got very testy w/me about it on the drive home to drop her off. Told me I should've bought her the candy, if it mattered that much. This was only because she was trying to tell me it was fine for Big to have it once in a while, in front of Big. (It's not. Trust me, I know this because we let her do it once and luckily were able to fix it on our own.) I wasn't criticizing her choice, it was when she told me in front of my kid that it was OK for her to have it, that I said, "Actually, no it's not." That's when she got all testy with me. But that's not the story, it just helps you understand my state of mind. I was tired, and at this point now, a bit testy myself. I got home about 3:30, and the girls wanted lunch, so I made them a late lunch. (They'd had a very large late breakfast.) Then LittleSpeak, (Little) got mad about something, and got in trouble for talking back. I was tired, so I vented. I vented publicly on a "social networking" site. (You just had your "aha moment," didn't you?) All I said, was that, this day was not going down as my favorite day of being a mom. I immediately got several comments from other moms and dads. It was actually kind of funny how quickly so many people were having the same kind of day. One mom suggested it might be the rain. Another told me I should've pawned them off on the G'parents, like her. There were some other things in there, so I quickly wrote into my own comments and replied to them. In my reply, I mentioned to the mom who suggested G'parents, that my kids were not the first grandkids, so the novelty was gone. Not one of my more stellar moments, I can assure you. I did it without thinking and hit enter.
Tonight, I got a text from my mom about it. She was less than pleased. I debated about how to answer her; I don't want to add fuel to the fire, but I felt that my comment, while ill-advised, was defensible. Should I do this via text? Call her? I finally decided to text her back, I felt calling her would be escalating it and potentially turning it into something bigger. I wrote her back and said, "When I ask for help with my kids, because they are a handful, and I say that is why I would like the help. I'm usually told too bad." Good or bad, that's the truth. I have been told "no" more than once, because they are a lot of work. They are a lot of work. I know that. That's why I was asking for the help, right? My kids are a lot of work because they're younger, then their first grandkids, I get that. I also have a child who is, what some might call, "spirited." Let's just say, you don't leave her alone in a room with a pair of scissors; running is probably the best thing she'll do with them. When you get down to it, that basically what I meant by the comment. Obviously, it's not how she took it. She did not write me back. After half an hour, I wrote again and asked if she was mad at me. She answered that right away, "no." I decided to call it even and leave it alone.
I'm spending the day with her, my niece and my girls at an amusement park tomorrow. I'll let you know how that goes.
My kids are on Spring Break this week. That's, at least part of, why, I haven't had the extra energy to write. Especially considering there really wasn't anything to write. Been doing my best to keep them busy and out of trouble. Simultaneously, trying not to overdo it. Blah, blah, blah...the usual blather I've been putting out lately.
Before I tell you what happened, I guess I need to provide a small amount of backstory here;
My brother's family is moving out of Silicon Valley. (Don't even get me started on my mom's reaction to this, to say she's not happy would be an understatement. She has trouble with change.) It's not my story to tell, so the long and short of it is this; they decided before things got any tighter, (budget-cuts,) they wanted to get into a smaller house payment. (No, they weren't having money problems! They just saw what was happening with public workers and did the long term math. They are being pro-active. I'm not making any kind of declaration about their financial situation; they are fine. They just want to stay that way.) They did some research and found an area they could better afford, with decent schools and from which they could still commute. That's the basics of it. They put their house on the market and it sold in like a week. Right now, most homes here are taking about 2 months to sell. They weren't entirely ready to move; read; kids are still in school. In the interim, they are living with my parents. It's temporary, and it was planned out. But it's obviously not the norm for my family. So that's your back story. My brother's family has recently moved in with my parents.
I think I mentioned a time or two before, that my mom and I have our issues. That many times those issues seem to be more about what she'd like to say to my brother or Sister-In-Law (SIL,) but instead says to me.
As I'm writing this, I do realize that I'm now probably putting my other foot into it as well. At least, if my mom were to read this, I'm putting my other foot in it. She insists she does not, so I guess I'll know for sure soon enough. But, I've mentioned before, this is my blog, for me, so that I might vent and not entirely lose my mind or eat my young.With my brother's family in her house, I hear everything is hunky-dory, but I suspect everyone is trying very hard to be nice and, perhaps, walking on eggshells a bit. I don't know that, like I said, everyone seems to be in agreement that all is good. What I do know is that my mom has ratcheted up her comments to me as of late. I haven't really been tracking this or anything, but my guess is that it started around the time they started getting the house ready for them to move in. I could just be sensitive, certainly wouldn't have been the first time that happened, but that's my guess. It may also be because, when you come right down to it, my mom doesn't really accept that I have Fibromyalgia, (FM). She would deny that. I think she wants to believe, but the reality is that she just doesn't, and her actions speak very loudly to that. Since my FM has recently really turned itself up, her uncomfortableness with it, might also be the reason her comments have been surfacing more often. Who knows, maybe it's because Venus is in her moon phase. My point is, and I do have one, regardless of the reason, I feel, that my mom has started in on me again as of late.
Example: a few days ago, my mom watched the girls while I went to the doctor. In the middle of small talk, she asks me if the Christmas stuff was still on the dining room table,
(I have 1-2 boxes I'm working on getting completely put away. It's how things work when you have something like FM. You do what you can, when you can, and you try not to stress about the rest. No, my poor children haven't been deprived of other holidays. We have decorated for other holidays, the dining room has just become a Christmas staging area. I agree, I probably should purge some of the Christmas, I'm actually working on that. Different post, for another time.)
So, my answer is, "Yes, it's still out."
"Well, that's ridiculous, there's no reason you can't have had that put away by now." No, I didn't tape her, but that's pretty close to a verbatim quote.
So, now you get what I mean when I say she's started in on me. That little exchange is typical of what happens between us. It's a little dance we do. The whole conversation will be moving along about the kids and whatnot, and she'll throw a little jab in there like that. When I've been dealing with it for a while, I'm better at not engaging her. Right now, I'm out of practice. Not to mention, my defenses are down, because I'm so tired, in pain, etc... If you're still reading this, you are a real trooper, or need to get a hobby. Oh hey, maybe reading blogs is your hobby! Good for you! Because It's taking me this long to get to the story this whole post is supposed to be about. I've never claimed to be short winded.
The Start of the Actual Blog Post: (Cue trumpets!)
Today's event, for Spring Break, was supposed to be at a park w/a dozen or so other families from school. Everyone brings lunch and we have a picnic and let the kids burn some energy. It rained this morning, of course. But, I had a backup plan! We took the girls to movies. You may remember that movie going with BigSpeak, (Big,) has not had great success in the past. But it was raining, and we went to see Hop. It's about the Easter Bunny, how scary could it be? I asked my mom if she wanted to go, partly because I knew she wanted me to ask her, and partly because I knew it would be easier with the two girls, if things did not go well. (They were mostly fine, BTW.) Movie, was all good. We had one little mishap w/candy that G'ma let them pick out, but that was all. (Big picked out "sticky candy," she shouldn't have with her braces. It wasn't a big deal.) My mom got very testy w/me about it on the drive home to drop her off. Told me I should've bought her the candy, if it mattered that much. This was only because she was trying to tell me it was fine for Big to have it once in a while, in front of Big. (It's not. Trust me, I know this because we let her do it once and luckily were able to fix it on our own.) I wasn't criticizing her choice, it was when she told me in front of my kid that it was OK for her to have it, that I said, "Actually, no it's not." That's when she got all testy with me. But that's not the story, it just helps you understand my state of mind. I was tired, and at this point now, a bit testy myself. I got home about 3:30, and the girls wanted lunch, so I made them a late lunch. (They'd had a very large late breakfast.) Then LittleSpeak, (Little) got mad about something, and got in trouble for talking back. I was tired, so I vented. I vented publicly on a "social networking" site. (You just had your "aha moment," didn't you?) All I said, was that, this day was not going down as my favorite day of being a mom. I immediately got several comments from other moms and dads. It was actually kind of funny how quickly so many people were having the same kind of day. One mom suggested it might be the rain. Another told me I should've pawned them off on the G'parents, like her. There were some other things in there, so I quickly wrote into my own comments and replied to them. In my reply, I mentioned to the mom who suggested G'parents, that my kids were not the first grandkids, so the novelty was gone. Not one of my more stellar moments, I can assure you. I did it without thinking and hit enter.
Tonight, I got a text from my mom about it. She was less than pleased. I debated about how to answer her; I don't want to add fuel to the fire, but I felt that my comment, while ill-advised, was defensible. Should I do this via text? Call her? I finally decided to text her back, I felt calling her would be escalating it and potentially turning it into something bigger. I wrote her back and said, "When I ask for help with my kids, because they are a handful, and I say that is why I would like the help. I'm usually told too bad." Good or bad, that's the truth. I have been told "no" more than once, because they are a lot of work. They are a lot of work. I know that. That's why I was asking for the help, right? My kids are a lot of work because they're younger, then their first grandkids, I get that. I also have a child who is, what some might call, "spirited." Let's just say, you don't leave her alone in a room with a pair of scissors; running is probably the best thing she'll do with them. When you get down to it, that basically what I meant by the comment. Obviously, it's not how she took it. She did not write me back. After half an hour, I wrote again and asked if she was mad at me. She answered that right away, "no." I decided to call it even and leave it alone.
I'm spending the day with her, my niece and my girls at an amusement park tomorrow. I'll let you know how that goes.
Wednesday, April 06, 2011
More of the Same
I go to see my "new" rheumatologist tomorrow. This last week has been more of the same. One day I'm pretty good & actually get a few things done. Next day, I'm down w/IBS or a migraine or both. I'm tracking everything and honestly, it doesn't seem like my diet (low-carb) is the reason for my IBS. But I'm going to stick with it. If nothing else, I will start to lose weight from it, at some point, and that won't hurt.
Last weekend I went to San Diego and stayed at a spa w/my BFF & another of her friends. I was actually really good for the weekend. About an hour after I got home, I got a headache. I had opened a soda about 10 mins prior and only had about 2 sips of it. But I hadn't had any soda all weekend, so I thought maybe I was on to something. But it seems not. I've had that same headache off and on since Sunday night. This afternoon, it got really bad. My meds got it under control a few hours after DaddySpeak got home.
I'm hoping for something enlightening tomorrow. Realistically, I know that's unlikely, but a girl can dream.
Last weekend I went to San Diego and stayed at a spa w/my BFF & another of her friends. I was actually really good for the weekend. About an hour after I got home, I got a headache. I had opened a soda about 10 mins prior and only had about 2 sips of it. But I hadn't had any soda all weekend, so I thought maybe I was on to something. But it seems not. I've had that same headache off and on since Sunday night. This afternoon, it got really bad. My meds got it under control a few hours after DaddySpeak got home.
I'm hoping for something enlightening tomorrow. Realistically, I know that's unlikely, but a girl can dream.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Whatever It Takes....
I am trying not to lose my shit here. I feel like I'm bi-polar or something. I guess I feel like the Fibromyalgia (FM) is bi-polar. I'm struggling to "keep up" but I'm not. I'm "borrowing spoons" and paying for it. So I do I what I need to, and then I can't do at all. I have had a few opportunities to write this last week, but held off, because I wanted to write something that wasn't all bitchy and angsty. Now, I'm not sure when that might be, if ever. Yes, I'm catastrophizing, I do it well; Watch & learn from the master. Today, my Irritable Bowel Syndrome (IBS) made another command performance. It was my own fault, but I get so wrapped up in just making it through day-to-day that I have trouble seeing the forest for the trees. Which means, I guess, I just cut them all down? I don't know where that metaphor was going, try and keep up, maybe you can explain it to me later. Let me back up a bit. I had a bad day Monday, both girls were in school and spent that time in bed. Got through the rest of our Monday afternoon and was hit with a migraine right around the time DaddySpeak got home. (Lucky him.) I ended up in bed at 6:00PM. I did manage to kick the migraine about 1o:00 PM, so I got a fair amount of sleep. Tuesday, (yesterday,) I spent the day trying to make up for Monday. LittleSpeak is home that day, so we hit the gym, (her class,) Target, (groceries & b-day gifts,) hair salon, (Little needed a trim,) eye doctor, (I needed more contacts,) and the library. During all of this, my mom called to inform me she might need a ride to the doctor because she may have broken her foot the night before. (Don't get me started on the fact that there are currently 3 other drivers living with her right now, and that she waited till they all were somewhere else to call me. I don't have an issue with helping her, I find it curious that I was her first choice, when, clearly she had other options. Yes, another post, another time.) So in-between all this running around, I was working the phone with my mom. Not a big deal, but an additional stressor. At 4:30 PM, Little had softball practice (because so many games have been canceled due to rain,) and BigSpeak needed to be at warm up for her game at 5:00. No, they are not at the same field. I worked out a carpool for Big, (original plan had involved G'ma,) and during Little's practice texted Daddy to pick up Subway for dinner, chairs to watch the game, (which were not in the van,) and the snack for Big's game (we were the snack parents that night, of course.) Keeping up? I drove from Little's practice to Big's game. You may remember, that I'm the unofficial photog for my kid's teams. (The parents on Little's team haven't quite gotten the memo yet.) Big's team is so used to me, they see me with a camera nearby and they check their teeth and smile. I'm not joking. I have a few reasons why I prefer being a soccer mom to a softball one, but the top of the list is photo ops. I can't get in close to the action in softball, like I can in soccer. Thus I spent half of every inning on my stomach at the foul line, just past the backstop fence. As you might imagine, this did much for my back pain. An hour after the game, I could barely move. My neck, shoulders, back, hips were all in agony. I slept like crap. If I stay perfectly still I'm fine. Whenever I moved, it would wake me up. This morning, was not my best. I got both girls off to school, but I was hurting so badly. I decided I wanted one of those Starbuck Mochas. My version of comfort food. I've been really, really good on my low-carb diet for a little over a week now. Honestly, I didn't feel like it was helping at all, so I splurged.
I won't ever do that again.
Within 30 minutes, I was so very sick. I don't really consider a warm mocha my comfort food anymore. In addition to the back, neck, shoulder, etc...pain, I added a very bad bout of IBS to the mix. I took some meds for the IBS, I've had limited success with them in the past. I've been very, very good about my fluids all day. I did have some cheese this afternoon and a few hours later, some nuts (almonds and cashews); all high protein stuff. I got crampy, but my stomach held. That's where I am now. I kinda don't ever want to eat again, but I'm sure that will pass.
I'm going away for a girls weekend on Friday. I'm torn about going. I feel like I have so many things I need to be doing, and this two steps forward, three steps back dance I'm doing, isn't helping. I scheduled this weekend because we had nothing going on, and I wouldn't be missing anything. Now, because all the rain we've had, all kinds of events have been rescheduled to this weekend. The girls have two birthday parties and games. Daddy is going to either have an appreciation for what I do, or be gone when I get back.
I really, really hate this. I'm getting depressed. I'm just so tired and hurting. Big had to write a sentence for homework using the word spine, I suggested something to do with mine not being great and she replied, "I don't want the whole world to know!" Um, okay. I reminded her that my health issues are not exactly a huge secret. She said, she knew that, and she didn't mind if her friends knew, but not the whole school. So, yeah, my 7yo is embarrassed of me. I also got on a scale for the first time in a while and my weight is up. I'm at my heaviest non-pregnant weight ever. I'm not surprised by it, I can tell by the way my clothes fit, but confirming it, isn't helping my mood. I just wish there was some way to fix this, to make it all stop. A magic pill or diet or exercise. If there was a way to make it go away, I would do it. Whatever it takes...
I won't ever do that again.
Within 30 minutes, I was so very sick. I don't really consider a warm mocha my comfort food anymore. In addition to the back, neck, shoulder, etc...pain, I added a very bad bout of IBS to the mix. I took some meds for the IBS, I've had limited success with them in the past. I've been very, very good about my fluids all day. I did have some cheese this afternoon and a few hours later, some nuts (almonds and cashews); all high protein stuff. I got crampy, but my stomach held. That's where I am now. I kinda don't ever want to eat again, but I'm sure that will pass.
I'm going away for a girls weekend on Friday. I'm torn about going. I feel like I have so many things I need to be doing, and this two steps forward, three steps back dance I'm doing, isn't helping. I scheduled this weekend because we had nothing going on, and I wouldn't be missing anything. Now, because all the rain we've had, all kinds of events have been rescheduled to this weekend. The girls have two birthday parties and games. Daddy is going to either have an appreciation for what I do, or be gone when I get back.
I really, really hate this. I'm getting depressed. I'm just so tired and hurting. Big had to write a sentence for homework using the word spine, I suggested something to do with mine not being great and she replied, "I don't want the whole world to know!" Um, okay. I reminded her that my health issues are not exactly a huge secret. She said, she knew that, and she didn't mind if her friends knew, but not the whole school. So, yeah, my 7yo is embarrassed of me. I also got on a scale for the first time in a while and my weight is up. I'm at my heaviest non-pregnant weight ever. I'm not surprised by it, I can tell by the way my clothes fit, but confirming it, isn't helping my mood. I just wish there was some way to fix this, to make it all stop. A magic pill or diet or exercise. If there was a way to make it go away, I would do it. Whatever it takes...
Monday, March 21, 2011
Asking for Help
Growing up, I was mocked if I complained about aches, pains, being ill, etc... I was (not so fondly,) referred to as "Sarah Bernhardt" by my parents and grandparents. I can think of many, many occasions in which not only were my feelings/fears not validated, but were flat out dismissed. I remember these incidents with amazing clarity. Amazing to them, not me. I suspect, that many of these "aches & pains" were the early signs of Fibromyalgia, (FM). At the time, I just knew something was wrong, and my parents, the people who were supposed to take care of me, to be my champions when no one else believed me, told me to "stop being so dramatic." I was often told to "toughen up" and "suck it up." This left me feeling like I was weak and inadequate. Getting that message as a kid, it sticks with you. I struggle now to feel like I'm not inept.
I suppose, some of their response was due to attention my younger brother was getting. They thought I was jealous. He had some severe learning disabilities as a young child. We spent a lot of time, for a lot of years, going to doctors and appointments to get him help. I honestly don't remember feeling jealous of any of the attention related to that. I had my bouts of "that's not fair." But I don't recall ever thinking he was being favored because of the attention he was getting related to his needs. (You would never know he had these issues now, BTW. He's not on the spectrum & never was, or anything remotely like that.) I don't recall feeling like I missed out on things for me because of these appointments. I'm sure that happened, but my point is, none of it felt different from the day-to-day family give and take that most people deal with while growing up. I'm bringing this up because I think my parents may have been sensitive to that situation. When I would complain about something I think they thought I was looking for attention, because of the attention my brother was getting. I understand that, to a point. But at some point, shouldn't someone have taken it seriously? When the complaints didn't go away, shouldn't someone had said, "Maybe there's something more to this?"
I'm venting because in the process of my FM symptoms coming back, I'm once again being dismissed. Made to feel like that 7yo, who was told time and again, she was just a drama queen and it was growing pains.
Little has had a rotten cold that 5 or so days. She has been up with nightmares, ear aches and sore throats for the last several nights. I have not been getting much sleep at night because of it. (Remember, I don't sleep, I have pain. I have pain, I don't sleep. It's a cycle, I'm working really hard to avoid.) Today, her cough and complaints were enough that I kept her home from school and took her to the doctor. It's nothing big, just a really rotten cold and not much sleep for either us. About noon, her and I were both starting to crash. I knew if we napped, I wouldn't wake up in time to pick up Big from school in a few hours. I called my mom to see if she would mind picking her up for me, so I could sleep. She said, "No, because she had stuff she needed to do." Later, while sitting in the pick up line at school (watching the hail,) my mom started to text me. She apparently felt bad. Her peace offering was to offer to take Big to dance at 4. I declined. Big had some schedule overlap and wasn't going to dance. But I have to say, it pissed me off. My mom will bend over backwards for anyone, BUT me. I do not know why. I'm not the only one who has noticed this and commented on it. My brother and his wife have noted, more than once, how my mom, "always gives me the short end of the stick" and "definitely does not cut me any slack." For my brother's family, she will move literal mountains. For me, not so much. Let me be clear, her peace offering was not for me. It was because she didn't want to disappoint Big. I could go suck eggs as far as she was concerned. (That, is me being overly dramatic. See, I do know the difference.) Her peace offering was for Big, not me. She doesn't seem to understand, that when I ask for help with the kids, it not for the kids, it's for me. I need to rest so I can function. My parents seem to consider that a luxury.
It took me years to learn how to ask for help when I needed it. Years. I was taught that I should be able to do it all. When I couldn't and I fell on my face, they told me to "just get over it." "What would people think?" Falling on my face, was on an emotional level. Oh no, I did not do a public swan dive. Because, yes, what would people think? It didn't become public until I had fallen into such a deep depression it was obvious to the homeless guy on the corner, that something was wrong with me. At that point, I'm not sure what got me out of bed. On a lot of days nothing did. I asked for help today. I'm asking for help before it gets out of hand. I have kids now, I can't afford to worry about what people might think. I need to be there for them. I know I can't do it alone. Not right now. I let the house go. I haven't showered for days. I wear sweats and baseball caps to try to hide what I'm not doing. I have to prioritize my energies. But when I get to the point of asking for help, I need it. I can hear it in her voice, and see it on her face, she doesn't understand that I'm sick. She doesn't believe I'm sick. "Because I don't look sick." I'm sorry, I don't have a blood test or x-ray or CAT scan to prove something is wrong, but it is. If I get turned down, because you truly can't, that's fine, I understand. Trust me, I really do understand. But know, that if I asked you for help, I needed it. Something else is going to give.
I'm NOT making this up. When I say it hurts, it really does hurt. When I say I'm exhausted, I don't mean I need to sit down for a few minutes, I mean if I sit or lie down, I will fall asleep.It's so hard to believe that other people will understand, when those closest to you, don't. I was raised that self-reliance was positive. Asking for help, a sign of weakness. Failing, not an option. I'm sure if you asked my parents directly about what I just said, they'd deny ever saying such things. Maybe they didn't say those things either. But their actions and non-verbals were quite clear to me. What they told me, time and time again, was that there was nothing wrong with me. I was "looking for attention." Nothing could be further from the truth. When you learn, at a young age, that weak = bad, you do your best to hide the things that would be seen that way.
I suppose, some of their response was due to attention my younger brother was getting. They thought I was jealous. He had some severe learning disabilities as a young child. We spent a lot of time, for a lot of years, going to doctors and appointments to get him help. I honestly don't remember feeling jealous of any of the attention related to that. I had my bouts of "that's not fair." But I don't recall ever thinking he was being favored because of the attention he was getting related to his needs. (You would never know he had these issues now, BTW. He's not on the spectrum & never was, or anything remotely like that.) I don't recall feeling like I missed out on things for me because of these appointments. I'm sure that happened, but my point is, none of it felt different from the day-to-day family give and take that most people deal with while growing up. I'm bringing this up because I think my parents may have been sensitive to that situation. When I would complain about something I think they thought I was looking for attention, because of the attention my brother was getting. I understand that, to a point. But at some point, shouldn't someone have taken it seriously? When the complaints didn't go away, shouldn't someone had said, "Maybe there's something more to this?"
I'm venting because in the process of my FM symptoms coming back, I'm once again being dismissed. Made to feel like that 7yo, who was told time and again, she was just a drama queen and it was growing pains.
Little has had a rotten cold that 5 or so days. She has been up with nightmares, ear aches and sore throats for the last several nights. I have not been getting much sleep at night because of it. (Remember, I don't sleep, I have pain. I have pain, I don't sleep. It's a cycle, I'm working really hard to avoid.) Today, her cough and complaints were enough that I kept her home from school and took her to the doctor. It's nothing big, just a really rotten cold and not much sleep for either us. About noon, her and I were both starting to crash. I knew if we napped, I wouldn't wake up in time to pick up Big from school in a few hours. I called my mom to see if she would mind picking her up for me, so I could sleep. She said, "No, because she had stuff she needed to do." Later, while sitting in the pick up line at school (watching the hail,) my mom started to text me. She apparently felt bad. Her peace offering was to offer to take Big to dance at 4. I declined. Big had some schedule overlap and wasn't going to dance. But I have to say, it pissed me off. My mom will bend over backwards for anyone, BUT me. I do not know why. I'm not the only one who has noticed this and commented on it. My brother and his wife have noted, more than once, how my mom, "always gives me the short end of the stick" and "definitely does not cut me any slack." For my brother's family, she will move literal mountains. For me, not so much. Let me be clear, her peace offering was not for me. It was because she didn't want to disappoint Big. I could go suck eggs as far as she was concerned. (That, is me being overly dramatic. See, I do know the difference.) Her peace offering was for Big, not me. She doesn't seem to understand, that when I ask for help with the kids, it not for the kids, it's for me. I need to rest so I can function. My parents seem to consider that a luxury.
It took me years to learn how to ask for help when I needed it. Years. I was taught that I should be able to do it all. When I couldn't and I fell on my face, they told me to "just get over it." "What would people think?" Falling on my face, was on an emotional level. Oh no, I did not do a public swan dive. Because, yes, what would people think? It didn't become public until I had fallen into such a deep depression it was obvious to the homeless guy on the corner, that something was wrong with me. At that point, I'm not sure what got me out of bed. On a lot of days nothing did. I asked for help today. I'm asking for help before it gets out of hand. I have kids now, I can't afford to worry about what people might think. I need to be there for them. I know I can't do it alone. Not right now. I let the house go. I haven't showered for days. I wear sweats and baseball caps to try to hide what I'm not doing. I have to prioritize my energies. But when I get to the point of asking for help, I need it. I can hear it in her voice, and see it on her face, she doesn't understand that I'm sick. She doesn't believe I'm sick. "Because I don't look sick." I'm sorry, I don't have a blood test or x-ray or CAT scan to prove something is wrong, but it is. If I get turned down, because you truly can't, that's fine, I understand. Trust me, I really do understand. But know, that if I asked you for help, I needed it. Something else is going to give.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Anger
Yeah, I'm going through the 12 steps, maybe by the time I'm done, the Fibro will be gone? Wouldn't that be nice.
I'm angry about a lot of things. Who wouldn't be? There are the things I'm missing, which makes me angry; activities w/the kids for example. I'm angry w/being sick & feeling like crap all the time. I'm angry about having an illness that isn't understood and that some people don't believe in. What I'm most angry about is all the guilt I have associated with being angry. There's a huge part of me that feels like I'm not allowed to be angry. I don't understand it either. I didn't choose to be like this. I don't choose to miss out on those things. I often borrow spoons from the future, so I won't miss out, but in the choosing I'm losing other things and I often get mad or at least frustrated with all of it.
Last night, LittleSpeak came in about midnight, upset from a bad dream. I let her lay in bed w/us, which, of course, turned into sleeping with us. I don't do well w/either of the kids in our bed. I tend not to be able to get any real sleep (REM) when they're there because I stay somewhat aware of what they're doing. I did get a few hours, but at 3 AM I woke because she had me pinned w/one of her legs. (She was pretty much sideways.) I had to wake up DaddySpeak to take her back to her room. Again, my sleep wasn't great, which means when I woke up this morning, I was already starting the day minus spoons; I was hurting. Little (our alarm clock,) came in to get us (me) up. (Somehow Daddy seems to "sleep though" her little wake up visits every morning.) I had forgotten to set the alarm, so we were late. (Big has CCD on Sunday's before church.) I got up, got both girls dressed, fed and dropped off Big at CCD. Came home, set Little up w/a "movie" (cartoons) and unloaded the dishwasher. Daddy came down in sweats a few minutes before we needed to pick up Big. I left to pick her up, took her to the bookstore, (gift for a party was going to later,) got her home, wrapped her gift, redid her hair (braids for jumping, going to trampoline place,) and pulled up the waiver for the trampoline place. I'd done all of this before 10 AM and was hurting more & more as we went along. In the meantime, Daddy was sitting in the same place, watching basketball recaps from yesterday. (Yes, he'd already seen them before.) Note; we have two printers in this house. One is supposed to be wifi, but went off-line a few months ago & we haven't been able to get it back online since. The other is plugged into our computer upstairs. I had to go upstairs to pull up the waiver for the party & print it. Sounds easy, yes? Except, my husband has loaded all kinds of extra software on that computer and it constantly wants to be updated. There's a continuous stream of pop-ups appearing to ask you if you want to update. He has put so much crap on there, that I don't know what's legit & what isn't, so I don't feel comfortable saying yes to any of the updates. I've asked him multiple times, over several months, to fix this, but he has yet to do it. Because the pop-ups are running (or trying to,) it inevitably locks up the computer. It took me 20 mins to print that damn waiver. (It should've taken 2.) During all of this, the girls kept coming upstairs to ask me how to spell words (b-day card,) & where things were (wrapping & card making supplies.) Daddy was sitting 10 feet away from them, but he doesn't answer or even acknowledge when he's watching (reruns) basketball. Stress will up your symptoms w/Fibro, and I was feeling pretty stressed by the time I got done. So, my pain level was going up, not down. Then I reread the email & realized I needed to drive Big to the b-day girls house, (I misread it & thought they were picking her up.) So I was scrambling to get her to their house. I was hoping to take Little to this place, to the little kids free play area & maybe get some pix of the the b-day party and Little bouncing, but I'm not up for it. I got back from dropping Big off & told Daddy that and I can tell he's not thrilled to take her on his own. But I don't think being bounced around is in my best interest right now. Truth be told, I need some down time alone right now. I also bit his head off about the computer thing, so he's thrilled w/me right nwo. I'm irritated w/life and him and he's irritated w/me. Here's the thing, I have a huge amount of guilt for being frustrated with him. Bah! It's not like he hasn't had plenty of time to fix the computer situation. But I'm feeling guilty because I end up missing so much and he has to do with the kids on the weekends.
I know rationally that he should spend the time with his kids. That, I too, deserve a break. I get that when I stay home from something fun, I'm not really getting "me time. I'm just making sure I have enough spoons to finish the day. I would actually be happy if I were to get to sleep in once a week, ever. He is slacking on getting the computer stuff done. But I feel guilty because I would take care of this stuff if I wasn't sick. It's like cruel trick of nature; you're going to feel like shite, you're going to miss out on lots of fun things and you're going to feel guilt for missing it all.
When do I get a break?
I'm angry about a lot of things. Who wouldn't be? There are the things I'm missing, which makes me angry; activities w/the kids for example. I'm angry w/being sick & feeling like crap all the time. I'm angry about having an illness that isn't understood and that some people don't believe in. What I'm most angry about is all the guilt I have associated with being angry. There's a huge part of me that feels like I'm not allowed to be angry. I don't understand it either. I didn't choose to be like this. I don't choose to miss out on those things. I often borrow spoons from the future, so I won't miss out, but in the choosing I'm losing other things and I often get mad or at least frustrated with all of it.
Last night, LittleSpeak came in about midnight, upset from a bad dream. I let her lay in bed w/us, which, of course, turned into sleeping with us. I don't do well w/either of the kids in our bed. I tend not to be able to get any real sleep (REM) when they're there because I stay somewhat aware of what they're doing. I did get a few hours, but at 3 AM I woke because she had me pinned w/one of her legs. (She was pretty much sideways.) I had to wake up DaddySpeak to take her back to her room. Again, my sleep wasn't great, which means when I woke up this morning, I was already starting the day minus spoons; I was hurting. Little (our alarm clock,) came in to get us (me) up. (Somehow Daddy seems to "sleep though" her little wake up visits every morning.) I had forgotten to set the alarm, so we were late. (Big has CCD on Sunday's before church.) I got up, got both girls dressed, fed and dropped off Big at CCD. Came home, set Little up w/a "movie" (cartoons) and unloaded the dishwasher. Daddy came down in sweats a few minutes before we needed to pick up Big. I left to pick her up, took her to the bookstore, (gift for a party was going to later,) got her home, wrapped her gift, redid her hair (braids for jumping, going to trampoline place,) and pulled up the waiver for the trampoline place. I'd done all of this before 10 AM and was hurting more & more as we went along. In the meantime, Daddy was sitting in the same place, watching basketball recaps from yesterday. (Yes, he'd already seen them before.) Note; we have two printers in this house. One is supposed to be wifi, but went off-line a few months ago & we haven't been able to get it back online since. The other is plugged into our computer upstairs. I had to go upstairs to pull up the waiver for the party & print it. Sounds easy, yes? Except, my husband has loaded all kinds of extra software on that computer and it constantly wants to be updated. There's a continuous stream of pop-ups appearing to ask you if you want to update. He has put so much crap on there, that I don't know what's legit & what isn't, so I don't feel comfortable saying yes to any of the updates. I've asked him multiple times, over several months, to fix this, but he has yet to do it. Because the pop-ups are running (or trying to,) it inevitably locks up the computer. It took me 20 mins to print that damn waiver. (It should've taken 2.) During all of this, the girls kept coming upstairs to ask me how to spell words (b-day card,) & where things were (wrapping & card making supplies.) Daddy was sitting 10 feet away from them, but he doesn't answer or even acknowledge when he's watching (reruns) basketball. Stress will up your symptoms w/Fibro, and I was feeling pretty stressed by the time I got done. So, my pain level was going up, not down. Then I reread the email & realized I needed to drive Big to the b-day girls house, (I misread it & thought they were picking her up.) So I was scrambling to get her to their house. I was hoping to take Little to this place, to the little kids free play area & maybe get some pix of the the b-day party and Little bouncing, but I'm not up for it. I got back from dropping Big off & told Daddy that and I can tell he's not thrilled to take her on his own. But I don't think being bounced around is in my best interest right now. Truth be told, I need some down time alone right now. I also bit his head off about the computer thing, so he's thrilled w/me right nwo. I'm irritated w/life and him and he's irritated w/me. Here's the thing, I have a huge amount of guilt for being frustrated with him. Bah! It's not like he hasn't had plenty of time to fix the computer situation. But I'm feeling guilty because I end up missing so much and he has to do with the kids on the weekends.
I know rationally that he should spend the time with his kids. That, I too, deserve a break. I get that when I stay home from something fun, I'm not really getting "me time. I'm just making sure I have enough spoons to finish the day. I would actually be happy if I were to get to sleep in once a week, ever. He is slacking on getting the computer stuff done. But I feel guilty because I would take care of this stuff if I wasn't sick. It's like cruel trick of nature; you're going to feel like shite, you're going to miss out on lots of fun things and you're going to feel guilt for missing it all.
When do I get a break?
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Acceptance
The last few weeks have been an emotional roller coaster. There's an understatement. I'm currently in what one would call a "Fibro Flare." I went through a very long period of denial, months in fact, and the last couple weeks have been a hard lesson in acceptance. I was going to write something about how hard it is to have a chronic illness. Then I started thinking about all the chronic stuff out there; diabetes, arthritis, lupus...and realized that I need to get over that part. It sucks, there's no doubt about that. But everyone has crap they have to deal with on a daily basis, (and don't get me started on the stuff in Japan, because that will put me into depression,) so I need to quit my bitching about that. No, the hard part this last couple weeks is knowing what is coming and feeling a complete loss of control. Before, I didn't know what was in store for me. My primary Fibro symptoms have included; migraines, non-restorative sleep, insomnia, Irritable Bowel Syndrome (IBS), Chronic Fatigue, depression, TMJ, wide-spread muscular pain, etc... It's a long list, but those are the symptoms that were bad enough to require medical care. My migraines started back up several months ago. At first, they were clustering around "my time of the month," but started becoming more and more frequent and debilitating. I finally got into a doctor for them and also admitted my sleep patterns had not been that stellar as of late. This doctor was actually somewhat excited to treat me. He had "some great meds for migraines that weren't around when I'd been treated for them previously." He's also the one who brought up my Fibro and started asking questions about my sleep. He prescribed me a low dose anti-depressant to see if it would help with my sleep. Since then I've had only 1 full blown migraine, which I was able to mitigate w/the migraine meds he gave me. Lasted less than four hours, as opposed to the multiple day ones I was having before. I also realized all the peri-menopause symptoms I'd been having (bad hot flashes & night sweats,) seemed to have stopped around that time. Bonus! Awesome!
Since that time though, my body has been trying to change it's clock. Trust me on this, when your body does this, there isn't much you can do. My body clock would like to be from sometime after noonish to about two or three AM. I am trying to keep it on the 10 PM to 7 AM for sleep vibe, (since it's almost midnight now, you can see how well that's working,) so I can deal with my kids when they're awake, but not so much. I know all the tricks related to sleep issues; only sleep in bed, no TV, no books; go to bed and get up at the same time every night, keep paper by your bed to write things down (keep your mind from spinning,) there's more, but you get the idea. It's not working. My body is running at it's peak about 10 PM to 1 or 2 AM. I can't seem to shut down before that. New flash: When you don't get enough sleep you're exhausted. Your PSA for the day, you're welcome. I'm great at pointing out the obvious. The exhaustion is typically accompanied by pain, and round the cycle goes; the pain makes it hard to sleep, you don't sleep so you have pain. Whee! The final straw, (in the past,) has been my digestive system. When my GI Tract gets involved it goes big. By big I mean it's landed me in the hospital a couple times. I don't think it'll ever do that again, (I did a lot of the wrong things in the past & know better now,) but never say never, right?
The widespread pain started in earnest about 2 weeks ago. (I've had major pain before that time, it just seemed to be centered to my sciatic issues.) I have 2 types of pain, nerve, from my disc problems and muscular, from my Fibro. I may have been dealing with the pain issues for much longer, but it started traveling to old favorite areas (mid-back, neck, shoulders, ankles...) in the last month. Areas that have nothing to do w/my lower back or leg. I suspect the two things exacerbate each other for fun. The exhaustion kicked in at that time as well. For the last two weeks or so, I get up, get the kids where they need to go and get back in bed till I have to go get them. When they're home, I lay on the couch and have them move the kids chairs & tables near so I can help with homework, read to them, etc... Yeah, no nominations for mother of the year over here. I feel like I've got the flu or mono, that's the kind of tired I'm dealing with here. I've been working on getting back onto a very low-carb diet, because I felt in the past that it helped with my symptoms, but it's been slow going. When I'm in pain I want chocolate. (Understandable, chocolate releases endorphins, your body's natural pain killer.) What I really want is my Starbucks Mocha. It's my version of comfort food. The warmth of that chocolate going down my throat immediately relaxes me. That craving, is my Achilles heel for the low-carb diet. It's the hurdle I'm having trouble getting over. This morning, after 5 or 6 days without one. Five to six days spent in bed because of pain, I decided I was going to have one. I figured if I limited my carbs everywhere else all day that could be low-carb enough. I was taking Little to gymnastics, where I sit for an hour on a cold bench in an unheated gym. It doesn't do wonders for my pain level. I wanted one to get through that hour, and the next couple after that which would more than likely be pain filled. I indulged. My pain had been slightly better and the feeling of that warm mocha seemed to help melt the last of it away. Surprisingly, I ended up running quite a few errands with Little after gymnastics because I felt so much better. Then my stomach joined in. My IBS seems to have taken exception at that mocha. It took the Fibro pain and turned it into Fibro IBS. All the bloated, uncomfortable, out-of-control feelings that come with IBS have shown up. There are other, more graphic details, I'll spare you, that accompany a bout of IBS. Let's just say I have no doubt it's not just something I ate. It's me. It's the way my body responds to this; it's the Fibro.
I haven't wanted to admit it's back. I know I've said that in the recent past, but I'm still fighting it. I still don't want to believe it. I want to be back how I was when Little was an infant. That short period of time when both girls where born, my back had not been injured yet, and my Fibro was gone. I want that back. I want my girls to know that mom.
I have owned up to the fact this is for real. My old rheumatoligist considers me a new patient because of the amount of time since I've seen her. "She's no longer taking new patients." Can't make this shit up people. I went to see my GP last week. Seeing a doctor about it, makes it real. She's good, she listens and seems to care. I told her my details, she's concerned about depression. (She "doesn't know much about Fibro.") My response? "Chicken or the egg?" One follows the other, you don't sleep, you will eventually experience a true physical depression. I know of what I speak. She referred me to another rheumy & wants to me see a shrink as well. I have an appointment in April w/the rheumy; I'd seen him briefly 10 yrs ago, but had to change due to insurance. That got me the April appointment, as opposed to May. Glad I'm not an emergency. I still need to find a shrink, but I'm procrastinating. I've had good & bad ones in the past. The bad outnumber the good 2-1, I'm just not into it. I know I need to see one, but I just hate the process.
Know what I hate more though? I hate that my body feels like it's attacking itself. I'm ready to be done with that.
Since that time though, my body has been trying to change it's clock. Trust me on this, when your body does this, there isn't much you can do. My body clock would like to be from sometime after noonish to about two or three AM. I am trying to keep it on the 10 PM to 7 AM for sleep vibe, (since it's almost midnight now, you can see how well that's working,) so I can deal with my kids when they're awake, but not so much. I know all the tricks related to sleep issues; only sleep in bed, no TV, no books; go to bed and get up at the same time every night, keep paper by your bed to write things down (keep your mind from spinning,) there's more, but you get the idea. It's not working. My body is running at it's peak about 10 PM to 1 or 2 AM. I can't seem to shut down before that. New flash: When you don't get enough sleep you're exhausted. Your PSA for the day, you're welcome. I'm great at pointing out the obvious. The exhaustion is typically accompanied by pain, and round the cycle goes; the pain makes it hard to sleep, you don't sleep so you have pain. Whee! The final straw, (in the past,) has been my digestive system. When my GI Tract gets involved it goes big. By big I mean it's landed me in the hospital a couple times. I don't think it'll ever do that again, (I did a lot of the wrong things in the past & know better now,) but never say never, right?
The widespread pain started in earnest about 2 weeks ago. (I've had major pain before that time, it just seemed to be centered to my sciatic issues.) I have 2 types of pain, nerve, from my disc problems and muscular, from my Fibro. I may have been dealing with the pain issues for much longer, but it started traveling to old favorite areas (mid-back, neck, shoulders, ankles...) in the last month. Areas that have nothing to do w/my lower back or leg. I suspect the two things exacerbate each other for fun. The exhaustion kicked in at that time as well. For the last two weeks or so, I get up, get the kids where they need to go and get back in bed till I have to go get them. When they're home, I lay on the couch and have them move the kids chairs & tables near so I can help with homework, read to them, etc... Yeah, no nominations for mother of the year over here. I feel like I've got the flu or mono, that's the kind of tired I'm dealing with here. I've been working on getting back onto a very low-carb diet, because I felt in the past that it helped with my symptoms, but it's been slow going. When I'm in pain I want chocolate. (Understandable, chocolate releases endorphins, your body's natural pain killer.) What I really want is my Starbucks Mocha. It's my version of comfort food. The warmth of that chocolate going down my throat immediately relaxes me. That craving, is my Achilles heel for the low-carb diet. It's the hurdle I'm having trouble getting over. This morning, after 5 or 6 days without one. Five to six days spent in bed because of pain, I decided I was going to have one. I figured if I limited my carbs everywhere else all day that could be low-carb enough. I was taking Little to gymnastics, where I sit for an hour on a cold bench in an unheated gym. It doesn't do wonders for my pain level. I wanted one to get through that hour, and the next couple after that which would more than likely be pain filled. I indulged. My pain had been slightly better and the feeling of that warm mocha seemed to help melt the last of it away. Surprisingly, I ended up running quite a few errands with Little after gymnastics because I felt so much better. Then my stomach joined in. My IBS seems to have taken exception at that mocha. It took the Fibro pain and turned it into Fibro IBS. All the bloated, uncomfortable, out-of-control feelings that come with IBS have shown up. There are other, more graphic details, I'll spare you, that accompany a bout of IBS. Let's just say I have no doubt it's not just something I ate. It's me. It's the way my body responds to this; it's the Fibro.
I haven't wanted to admit it's back. I know I've said that in the recent past, but I'm still fighting it. I still don't want to believe it. I want to be back how I was when Little was an infant. That short period of time when both girls where born, my back had not been injured yet, and my Fibro was gone. I want that back. I want my girls to know that mom.
I have owned up to the fact this is for real. My old rheumatoligist considers me a new patient because of the amount of time since I've seen her. "She's no longer taking new patients." Can't make this shit up people. I went to see my GP last week. Seeing a doctor about it, makes it real. She's good, she listens and seems to care. I told her my details, she's concerned about depression. (She "doesn't know much about Fibro.") My response? "Chicken or the egg?" One follows the other, you don't sleep, you will eventually experience a true physical depression. I know of what I speak. She referred me to another rheumy & wants to me see a shrink as well. I have an appointment in April w/the rheumy; I'd seen him briefly 10 yrs ago, but had to change due to insurance. That got me the April appointment, as opposed to May. Glad I'm not an emergency. I still need to find a shrink, but I'm procrastinating. I've had good & bad ones in the past. The bad outnumber the good 2-1, I'm just not into it. I know I need to see one, but I just hate the process.
Know what I hate more though? I hate that my body feels like it's attacking itself. I'm ready to be done with that.
Monday, February 21, 2011
Treading Water
I'm sorry I've neglected you interwebs. I'm treading water here. My Fibro is working on fully taking over & I'm trying to fight it. Sadly, other things suffer in my effort; like writing. I need to get on here more. I need the outlet, but we'll see how that goes. I have been cropping a lot, (taking another class over at Jessica's place,) so all my creative juices have been in PhotoShop as of late. We (the girls and I) have been battling a case of the lingering flu. It's better then the stomach flu that's also working it's way through the neighborhood, so I'm actually grateful for that. This month we've had a visit from the outlaws; MIL is still here. I'm also grateful for this because it's helped so much to have another adult around while I'm feeling like arce. I'm sure she's going to need a couple months to recoup from this visit. The girls have both started practice for softball. I volunteered to be the "team mom/manager" for Little's team. Because I've obviously lost my mind! I mistakenly thought I might be able to have influence over the practice schedule and then I could try & leverage both teams together, but no such luck. Schedules are determined by the league; practice ones too. Little loves that I'm this involved with her team and Big's team is being coached & managed by good friends (it's all her soccer team & girls scout troop,) so it's actually a good pick of things I could have chosen.
There's tons more stuff I could write about, but I'm heading to bed. Today, I got up at 7AM w/the girls. DaddySpeak & MIL came downstairs about 8:30AM. Next thing I knew, I'd fallen asleep on the couch and it was 2PM!!! I had to force myself to get up & moving. I almost felt drugged. That's how I know it's Fibro. Two night before that I was up until 5:30AM w/horrible heartburn. I couldn't stand it laying down, so I sat on the couch till it subsided, which was 5:30AM. (Yes, I took stuff for it. Nothing would touch it. Nothing, but time.) Yes, I'm totally on the low-carb (LC) diet now. I'm not messing around and throwing mini temper tantrums about how lousy I feel & how I deserve this piece of chocolate or I need my mocha to cope. I need to get my body back to where it was this time last year. Hopefully, things will improve for me in the next week and I'll have more energy to write. (Or I'm going to have to have another baby to get this all under control.) ;-)
There's tons more stuff I could write about, but I'm heading to bed. Today, I got up at 7AM w/the girls. DaddySpeak & MIL came downstairs about 8:30AM. Next thing I knew, I'd fallen asleep on the couch and it was 2PM!!! I had to force myself to get up & moving. I almost felt drugged. That's how I know it's Fibro. Two night before that I was up until 5:30AM w/horrible heartburn. I couldn't stand it laying down, so I sat on the couch till it subsided, which was 5:30AM. (Yes, I took stuff for it. Nothing would touch it. Nothing, but time.) Yes, I'm totally on the low-carb (LC) diet now. I'm not messing around and throwing mini temper tantrums about how lousy I feel & how I deserve this piece of chocolate or I need my mocha to cope. I need to get my body back to where it was this time last year. Hopefully, things will improve for me in the next week and I'll have more energy to write. (Or I'm going to have to have another baby to get this all under control.) ;-)
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Full Blown
I've been trying to deny to myself that my Firbromyagia symptoms have been coming back. No one wants to admit things are really bad, when they really are. You go into a mode a period of time, trying to convince yourself that you "pulled a muscle," must be coming down with something," etc...I've totally been doing this with myself. I did have the flu weekend before last. And I do have some residual pain/cramping that is associated with that. I realized that this pain I'm getting down my right leg to my knee, is the same shooting pain I usually get in my neck/shoulders. This morning when I woke up, I had a full blown Fibro episode engaged. I can no longer convince myself that this is just a phase or that will pass. The pain is widespread and memorable. It amazes me how easily you forget how bad the pain can be; until you in it.
It sucks.
It sucks.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
A Spoonie
I've suffered from Fribromyalgia, in a documented sense, since I was 18 years old. I'm 43, so you do the math. My point is, it's a long damn time. Until 2001, I suffered not knowing what was wrong with me. If you're a person who has suffered from a chronic illness, you have an idea of what that is like. How it feels to run test after test, and then do them all again, just to get no answers. To have the doctors, your family, you friends, all look at you like you're the crazy cat lady because no one can figure out what's wrong with you. Inevitably, a medical professional will imply that maybe it's all in your head. This is often the same professional who originally agreed that there was something, indeed wrong with you, you have real symptoms after all. But upon being thwarted by his tests, rather than admit defeat, is looking for fault in you. It couldn't possibly be that maybe we just don't have the tests to determine the problem you have as of yet, could it? Once the medical profession starts to give up on you, you find that many family and friends will start dropping off. Those that do stick around will tell you things like, "Just get out of bed and decide you feel good. It will happen." and the ever popular, "Suck it up." As if you could decide to feel better. Who the hell would choose to feel like this? You get an idea of part of what I've dealt with emotionally during this process.
Yesterday, I got a Direct Message (DM) from one of my Twitter followers, "I didn't know you were a spoonie!" Um, neither did I, what the heck is a spoonie? She was shocked I wasn't aware of this website; But You Don't Look Sick? Ooooh! Now it all makes sense. I had heard of the spoons via Queen of Spain, (QofS,) but assumed they had something to do with her family, so I never really took much interest. Beside, I was trying to hold it together; between my back pain, my kids, & trying to keep my fibro in line, my sleep issues were creeping in about that time, I didn't really have the time/energy to go peruse blogs just for fun. Coincidentally, QofS posted this, a few hours after I got that tweet.
No, I don't have lupus, but like lupus many of my symptoms are hidden. I don't look sick, but I absolutely am. With all the back problems I've had in the last four years, my fibro has taken a back seat, thankfully. I seem to have been controlling it with diet to a degree, but it's been trying to sneak back up on me. When you feel better, you stop looking for resources. I suppose that's why I missed this site during my former forays looking for information/support/community. I'm excited to see it exists. I hope beyond hope that fate, God, Flying Spaghetti Monster or whatever you want to call it, isn't giving me a heads up that things are about to get really bad. I'm afraid to hope that it isn't just letting me know there's a community there if I ever need it. I really hope I don't though.
Yesterday, I got a Direct Message (DM) from one of my Twitter followers, "I didn't know you were a spoonie!" Um, neither did I, what the heck is a spoonie? She was shocked I wasn't aware of this website; But You Don't Look Sick? Ooooh! Now it all makes sense. I had heard of the spoons via Queen of Spain, (QofS,) but assumed they had something to do with her family, so I never really took much interest. Beside, I was trying to hold it together; between my back pain, my kids, & trying to keep my fibro in line, my sleep issues were creeping in about that time, I didn't really have the time/energy to go peruse blogs just for fun. Coincidentally, QofS posted this, a few hours after I got that tweet.
No, I don't have lupus, but like lupus many of my symptoms are hidden. I don't look sick, but I absolutely am. With all the back problems I've had in the last four years, my fibro has taken a back seat, thankfully. I seem to have been controlling it with diet to a degree, but it's been trying to sneak back up on me. When you feel better, you stop looking for resources. I suppose that's why I missed this site during my former forays looking for information/support/community. I'm excited to see it exists. I hope beyond hope that fate, God, Flying Spaghetti Monster or whatever you want to call it, isn't giving me a heads up that things are about to get really bad. I'm afraid to hope that it isn't just letting me know there's a community there if I ever need it. I really hope I don't though.
Week Two, Points Plus
I did go to my meeting today. Yeah for me! But, I gained this week. Boo! I wasn't completely shocked. I gained .6 of a pound. If I hadn't worn jeans I could've broke even or maybe even lost this week. I gauge my weight by how my clothes fit, not by a number on a scale so much. I don't even own a scale. I was talking with another member in line today, (she's lost 140+ lbs so far) and when I told her I didn't own a scale her mouth hit the ground. Once she pulled her chin back up she said, "Good for you!" I suppose so. I've always said, "It's not how much you weigh, it's how much you look like you weigh." Spoken like a true skinny girl. It is true though. My fat jeans are loose on me, once they hit the point where I'm pulling them up constantly, it's hard to tell if they are looser than before. Not so much today.
I know why I didn't loose this week. Being sick didn't help me. I didn't eat, which is bad. My body will hold onto food because it isn't sure when it's getting fed again. When I did eat, I felt entitled to have things I should stay away from because I hadn't eaten. You can see how well that worked for me. I also didn't count a stray cookie or piece of chocolate here and there. Those add up, and the scale reminded me of that. So, it's not entirely a surprise. It's good for me to get a wake up call like this, .6 isn't a big setback, this is just a reminder for me to get my act together or I'm wasting my time and money.
I know why I didn't loose this week. Being sick didn't help me. I didn't eat, which is bad. My body will hold onto food because it isn't sure when it's getting fed again. When I did eat, I felt entitled to have things I should stay away from because I hadn't eaten. You can see how well that worked for me. I also didn't count a stray cookie or piece of chocolate here and there. Those add up, and the scale reminded me of that. So, it's not entirely a surprise. It's good for me to get a wake up call like this, .6 isn't a big setback, this is just a reminder for me to get my act together or I'm wasting my time and money.
Monday, January 17, 2011
Yes, I've Drunk the Koolaid
I've drunk the Weight Watchers (WW) koolaid & read the bible. I can even give you all their answers on this new program. The answers are not all the much different from the old answers, just the points are different. I could teach the program if I was at my goal weight, but I'm not.
So in a conversation on Twitter with Bored Mommy, (BM) today I was was imparting my WW wisdom 140 characters at a time. Dr. Browne even told me I was giving good advice. Too bad, I have such trouble in the practice sense of practicing my wisdom. Typing it all down 140 characters at a time was probably giving me carpal tunnel or something, so I decided to actually get on here & write it all down using a keyboard.
The topic came up as BM complaining that she only lost TWO pounds in her second week on the program. She was sort of disappointed with this number, stating, "I know it's not realistic, but I'm hoping for more like 'Biggest Loser' numbers." In her post, on her blog, she indicated that the second week of a diet,
she wrote:
Wow, where do I start?
My original comment to her was that I couldn't believe she does a weigh in on Monday?!? As a professional dieter, (No, I don't get paid for it, but I don't get paid to be a mom either, and no one questions that title.) I know that Monday is probably the worst day to have your weekly weigh in. Why? (And you're asking why, you are probably a skinny bitch who has never dieted & I sort of hate you right now, but whatever, pass the chocolate.) It is most likely that if you're going to really go off program it will happen on a weekend. You need some recovery time. Monday weigh in, gives you no recovery time. You think I have the wrong attitude? Maybe, but I also believe in not setting myself up to fail. If I had to weigh in on Mondays I would be more likely not to go. If I don't go, then I stop doing the program. It's a slippery slope folks. I weigh in on a Wednesday. I go to meetings to weigh in too. BM is using the online program, which is good, no doubt, but there's reason why people who go to meetings are more likely to stick with it and lose faster.
There are a couple things about meetings that are really important, accountability and positive reinforcement. Going to a meeting every week give me a solid stop/start time for each week. If I need to mentally clear myself from what I feel was a bad week, I can do that at my meeting. I know what the damage was, often no where near what I think, and I can move forward. The other important thing about meetings is positive reinforcement. All of the following are things you should be hearing at every meeting:
As to address the idea of only losing two pounds in the second week, wow, talk about an uphill battle. If you're feeling that way on week two, I find it hard to believe you're going to stick to it. We need something to make you feel good about when it comes to this topic. Listen, any weight loss program that's works won't have you losing more than half a pound to a pound a week. Yes, the first week is usually a bigger number. And if you have a very large amount to lose, then it's not unrealistic to lose more every week, a la-Biggest Loser. The truth is, you didn't gain this weight over night, you're not going to lose it over night. If you do lose it overnight, it's very likely it'll pop right back on. It's not healthy for your body to yo-yo, and quick gains or losses fall into the yo-yo category. Instead of focusing on the big number at the end, figure out your 5% number and focus on that. Once you reach that goal, focus on the next 5%. If you do it in little steps like that, it's way less intimating. It also can help with things like going on vacation. You gain a few pounds, but instead of beating yourself up, you focus on getting back to that 5% goal. Totally doable. Gives you things to celebrate too.
"Cheating"
If you truly want to lose weight and keep it off, you need to change your thinking. That's your biggest hurdle; Not losing weight, not staying away from Starbucks. Those things will benefit your weight loss, but you'll gain it back, if you don't change the way you think about yourself and your body. (I told you I've drunk the koolaid.) There is no such thing as "cheating" on WW. You can, and SHOULD eat what you want. If you don't, you'll go off of it. Once you've lost the weight, you aren't "going off" the program, are you? If you do, you'll just gain it back, you know. If you deprive yourself of the things you like, you will stop doing the program. I can tell you that without a doubt. WW gives you an extra amount of points every week so you can have those things. You have to choose how you want to do that. It may mean that you can only have your white mocha two times a week, or maybe a tall instead of a vente. (Guess you can tell where my extra points go.) It's your choice. The bottom line is that what you were doing wasn't working. What you were doing caused you to gain the weight in the first place. Or it wasn't helping you lose it, at least. When you've lost all the weight, you can't go back to what you were doing before, or you'll end up back where you started. Give yourself a chance to succeed. Allow yourself to have the things you want, it's not cheating. It's living. Just choose to be healthier too.
I have a whole deal on exercise too. But I'm going to let this sink in right now. Key take aways from this:
So in a conversation on Twitter with Bored Mommy, (BM) today I was was imparting my WW wisdom 140 characters at a time. Dr. Browne even told me I was giving good advice. Too bad, I have such trouble in the practice sense of practicing my wisdom. Typing it all down 140 characters at a time was probably giving me carpal tunnel or something, so I decided to actually get on here & write it all down using a keyboard.
The topic came up as BM complaining that she only lost TWO pounds in her second week on the program. She was sort of disappointed with this number, stating, "I know it's not realistic, but I'm hoping for more like 'Biggest Loser' numbers." In her post, on her blog, she indicated that the second week of a diet,
But it’s the week where I always realize the size of the mountain that I need to climb to get to the end, because no matter how great I do during week one, week two will always be a smaller number, in terms of a weight loss.She also bought up that she "cheated" (her word, not mine) by having a scone & french fries during the week. I take issue with the word cheating, but I'll take that on in a minute. Lastly,
she wrote:
This is where the whole mental thing really comes in for me. I tell myself that I can’t do it, because I have SO MUCH WEIGHT to lose. The negative talk in my head is non-stop and really kind of pathetic. I kick myself when I’m down at every turn. I wish I only had to lose 15-20lbs so I wouldn’t feel so damned overwhelmed every time I think about it. I’m really trying to think positive, but I’m kind of a weight loss failure, if you haven’t noticed. I totally suck at it, because mentally, I just tell myself it can’t happen.
Wow, where do I start?
My original comment to her was that I couldn't believe she does a weigh in on Monday?!? As a professional dieter, (No, I don't get paid for it, but I don't get paid to be a mom either, and no one questions that title.) I know that Monday is probably the worst day to have your weekly weigh in. Why? (And you're asking why, you are probably a skinny bitch who has never dieted & I sort of hate you right now, but whatever, pass the chocolate.) It is most likely that if you're going to really go off program it will happen on a weekend. You need some recovery time. Monday weigh in, gives you no recovery time. You think I have the wrong attitude? Maybe, but I also believe in not setting myself up to fail. If I had to weigh in on Mondays I would be more likely not to go. If I don't go, then I stop doing the program. It's a slippery slope folks. I weigh in on a Wednesday. I go to meetings to weigh in too. BM is using the online program, which is good, no doubt, but there's reason why people who go to meetings are more likely to stick with it and lose faster.
There are a couple things about meetings that are really important, accountability and positive reinforcement. Going to a meeting every week give me a solid stop/start time for each week. If I need to mentally clear myself from what I feel was a bad week, I can do that at my meeting. I know what the damage was, often no where near what I think, and I can move forward. The other important thing about meetings is positive reinforcement. All of the following are things you should be hearing at every meeting:
- It's NOT a diet, it's a lifestyle.
- You CAN eat anything you want. You just have to decide where you want your points to go.
- Sometimes, it's not about losing weight. Sometimes it's about maintaining, or not gaining more than a certain amount. (Think vacation.)
As to address the idea of only losing two pounds in the second week, wow, talk about an uphill battle. If you're feeling that way on week two, I find it hard to believe you're going to stick to it. We need something to make you feel good about when it comes to this topic. Listen, any weight loss program that's works won't have you losing more than half a pound to a pound a week. Yes, the first week is usually a bigger number. And if you have a very large amount to lose, then it's not unrealistic to lose more every week, a la-Biggest Loser. The truth is, you didn't gain this weight over night, you're not going to lose it over night. If you do lose it overnight, it's very likely it'll pop right back on. It's not healthy for your body to yo-yo, and quick gains or losses fall into the yo-yo category. Instead of focusing on the big number at the end, figure out your 5% number and focus on that. Once you reach that goal, focus on the next 5%. If you do it in little steps like that, it's way less intimating. It also can help with things like going on vacation. You gain a few pounds, but instead of beating yourself up, you focus on getting back to that 5% goal. Totally doable. Gives you things to celebrate too.
"Cheating"
If you truly want to lose weight and keep it off, you need to change your thinking. That's your biggest hurdle; Not losing weight, not staying away from Starbucks. Those things will benefit your weight loss, but you'll gain it back, if you don't change the way you think about yourself and your body. (I told you I've drunk the koolaid.) There is no such thing as "cheating" on WW. You can, and SHOULD eat what you want. If you don't, you'll go off of it. Once you've lost the weight, you aren't "going off" the program, are you? If you do, you'll just gain it back, you know. If you deprive yourself of the things you like, you will stop doing the program. I can tell you that without a doubt. WW gives you an extra amount of points every week so you can have those things. You have to choose how you want to do that. It may mean that you can only have your white mocha two times a week, or maybe a tall instead of a vente. (Guess you can tell where my extra points go.) It's your choice. The bottom line is that what you were doing wasn't working. What you were doing caused you to gain the weight in the first place. Or it wasn't helping you lose it, at least. When you've lost all the weight, you can't go back to what you were doing before, or you'll end up back where you started. Give yourself a chance to succeed. Allow yourself to have the things you want, it's not cheating. It's living. Just choose to be healthier too.
I have a whole deal on exercise too. But I'm going to let this sink in right now. Key take aways from this:
- Be Nice To Yourself.
- Allow Yourself The Things You Love.
- Set Yourself Up to Succeed.
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