The Real World: Portland

The last month has been nothing but drama at my house. If I wanted this much drama in my life, I'd have stayed in the theater--Shakespeare's got a much better vocabulary than we do around here.  His insults are better, too.  Half of my family seems to be convinced that we're the cast of some over-the-top reality television show, including swearing-screaming-crying-tantrums,  death threats, drunken parties, random sex,  mood swings and come close to fist fights. Our wardrobes are nothing like the Real Housewives (we're much better dressed than Honey Boo-Boo), but I'm betting our theatrics are equal to theirs any day.  
Yes, I love my family. And right now, I am actually pretty happy living with them, even with all of this going on. Things are better in this house, mostly, and I don't feel the need to escape like I did a few months ago. I do, occasionally feel a strong urge to duct tape one or two family members to a chair in the garage, and gag them so I won't have to listen to them anymore!

Families are always messed up, I guess. Nobody is perfect, or even close. I'd be miserable if I had to be part of some sitcom family. The Brady Bunch always annoyed the hell out of me, all so damn perky & blonde! Only Jan was a normal person, and they were awful to her! The Cleavers were even weirder as far as I'm concerned. I'd probably be happy with the Addams Family: all the black clothes and weirdness would make me feel right at home.

There are other things going on in my life. I discovered that the pain in my arm is tendonitis, which will get better, apparently. I managed to make a total fool of myself in front of Dr Jeff, and will be embarrassed about it for a while. I had a birthday. It sucked. The anniversary of Michele's passing came. That sucked even more. (I've a post half ready about that...) I was reminded that so many men are jerks, no matter their age, and that really sucked. And, I read a couple of books that I haven't reviewed yet.

I am having lots of computer issues, which is why I haven't posted sooner. In the next week I will hopefully have some of those issues fixed, and will be able to write a bunch at ya'll. I know you're waiting for it!  I'll be back.

 

Fear of the Unknown

If I were a Harry Potter character, I'm fairly sure the Sorting Hat would not have placed me in Gryffindor, simply because I'm not really a brave person. Yes, at times in my life, I've been able to stand up in front of the crowd, singing or acting, and I was, for a long time, very good at making new friends. Not so much any more. The last few years of my life have left me a very different person, and so many things scare me these days. It's difficult to be in crowds, and the idea of having to talk to too many people I don't know is terrifying.  I've had panic attacks in public places, including the local Fred Myer, where I wound up crying in the manager's office. These events had been getting farther between, until recently, when certain things began making me very nervous.

If you've been reading this for long, you know I share a home with my extended family: my parents, who are 78 and 83; my younger sister and her two children, who are 10 and 20; plus two cats and a dog. During the last year my father lost his job, and hasn't been able to find another one; he has also begun showing signs of dementia, which is difficult for all of us. Mom hasn't worked outside the home in years; they have some Social Security coming in, but no savings. My sister hasn't had a steady job in over a year, just temp things, and my while my niece has a full-time job, she doesn't help out much. Hence, the only real income in the household now are my SSI/SSD checks every month, and Mom & Dad's Social Security. Not a lot for all these people to live on. Jolene & I both get food stamps, which helps, and for now, all of our medical expanses are taken care of. The big issue is the house payment; we cannot afford this house.

When I moved back in here two years ago, my goal was to stay a few months and then get a place of my own. But things went downhill very fast; I sank into depression after the breakup and Michele's death, and still haven't fully recovered. It was easier to hide in this room than get on with my life. But now, I don't have a choice, and this scares me. My parents are talking about selling the house, and this means we'll all have to move. Sure, they've been talking about selling for years, but this time they're actually doing things to put it in motion. Getting the basement presentable. Talking to realtors. Getting rid of things. And scaring the hell out of me.

My tiny room is full of stuff, and I have dozens of boxes in the garage. Every few days I'm encouraged to begin sorting, getting rid of things, both so the place will look better for prospective buyers, and so it will be easier to move. Jolene has done a bit of this in, but I've yet to begin, even though I've nothing but time on my hands.

At first I thought I was just procrastinating, as usual, being my normal lazy self.  I've had several conversations about where I'd go when the house sold with different people. Jolene proposed we get an RV, put Max in online school, and tour the country. I've discussed getting an apartment with my ex-husband and friend, Charlie (we get along well, and he's easy to live with), but it's never gone farther than discussion.  But recently I realized that I honestly have no idea what is going to happen to any of us, and this is nerve-wracking.  Some part of me believes if I don't do anything, the unknown will stay far, far in the future, and I won't have to think about it. Denial is my favorite river, and I swim deep in it.



Talking about things helps, so they say. I've discussed this fear with Jolene, and Mom, and now you. Let's hope it helps, because I cannot continue doing nothing, as much as I might like to. Getting past the fear is going to be hard. I may have to channel my inner Steel Magnolia and remember "What doesn't kill us makes us stronger."

Beaches and Beds

Yeah, that title sounds like this is gonna be a dirty post, but really, it's not.

I've spent 65% of the last week in bed. Sleeping, I mean. For some reason, I'm incredibly tired lately. Amanda would tell me that I'm depressed, Lori would say I'm still getting over whatever made me so sick, and my Mom, well, she said "You've become lazy." Which made my sister and I laugh, because I've always been lazy. Lazy is not a new thing for me! I've fallen asleep all over the place this week, though. I went in to talk to Max, fell asleep on his bed, and woke up when he started hollering at the video game he was playing. I sat down at the kitchen table with a cup of tea, started snoozing. Fell asleep in my chair at least once a day. And yesterday, I swear, I fell asleep in the shower. Weird. I like my bed best. It's squeaky, and tall, but comfy and I sleep better there than anywhere else.

"Beaches" is on television as I write this, and Barbra Hershey just died, so I'm typing and crying at the same time. I saw this movie the first time with Michele, and we both cried then. I read the book at some point, too; this is one of the times where the movie is better than the book. The story of childhood friends growing up together, and the death of one feels especially poignant to me these days, as I miss Michele. The anniversary of her passing was earlier this month, and I'd intended to write a big sentimental post about her, and our friendship. I just couldn't do it. Something inside me wanted to keep that day personal to me. So I lit a candle, said a prayer, and looked at pictures.

The songs that make me think of Shel are not those in the soundtrack to "Beaches,' no disrespect to Miss M. Michele and I danced to Copacabana, sang along to every stupid 80's tune, and tunes from The Pirate Movie. And this:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HyTpu6BmE88

 

This song still makes me cry.

 

Talk Nerdy To Me

Let's talk about nerd-dom. My nerdiness. It's my blog, nobody reads it but me, I'll talk about what I want, and you can't do a thing to stop me, nyah-nyah-nyah. I can write all about how I spend way too much time reading Drarry fanfiction, or watching Glee (or listening to music from Glee while reading Drarry stories--that's the best!), and nobody would care! Ah, the joys of the internet.

But first, I must point out that I am not a geek, or a dork. A geek is smart enough to create and fix things like computers, etc., and I am not. A dork doesn't really get anything. A nerd both understands and is into really cool stuff. That's me.

Yes, I do enjoy Harry Potter fanfiction, and I do not care if you think that makes me a nerd, because I embraced my nerdiness way back in Junior High when I sang a Barry Manilow song in front of the entire school. Yes, I am THAT big a nerd. I am a Barry Manilow-loving, Doctor Who-watching, Firefly-missing, Sherlock-worshipping, fanfiction-reading, nerd. And I am damn proud of it. In some respects, I guess this makes me a hipster, because I was dorky long before it was cool, and I was happy being this way. I've never really wanted to be anything but who I am.

In high school, I had good friends, and while we weren't the popular crowd, we got along with everyone, and we had a ton of fun. We were primarily choir and theater geeks, and most of us made good grades as well. At the time I thought we were all staying away from drugs and alcohol, although I know now that wasn't true for all of us; either way, we had a lot of fun just being totally stupid, as teenagers tend to do. I never remember wanting to be any "cooler" than we were; I thought we were fabulous then, and I still do. Mostly. Except for the friend I've since discovered was stoned pretty much since eighth grade. That just pisses me off, although it does explain a bit about him.

In college, it was pretty much the same. Weird friends, just older. Different states, different things, and eventually, a bit of that alcohol. Either way, we were all some kind of misfit toy, and it worked.

Anyway. All these years later, even with Michele gone, I am still listening to Barry, still spending most of my Friday nights watching bad movies and occasionally eating pizza. Not the same movie anymore, thank god. And nobody will let me get Hawaiian pizza anymore, which is okay, since I've had my fill.

I'm still a nerd. If I had friends nearby, I'm sure we'd be sitting around a coffee shop somewhere, laughing until one of us spit coffee out our nose. Heaven for me will involve lots of time in cozy cafes with Michele, Elissa, Louis, Doug, Andy, Demere, Marina, Christopher, Lori & Don, Marty, Eric, Kathy, Karen, Leslie, Kenny, Wes, Teri, Monica, Fay, and so many more. Lots of time just being nerdy with the friends I love.

Selfish to the End

Sometimes watching a television show, or reading a certain book will start me on a train of thought I never imagined taking. I've spent the last few weeks watching the HBO series 'Six Feet Under' and it has me thinking about death. Big surprise that a series revolving around a funeral home would take me there, huh?

I'm not having dark, goth thoughts, or seeing dead people like some Haley Joel Osmet wannabe. I'm not wondering about what it feels like to be dead, although I used to, once upon a time. Occasionally, the show has sparked a severe pang of regret, a wallop of a reminder of how much I miss those I've lost, and how much it still hurts. Mostly, what it has made me think about is planning. We never really know what is going to happen in life, and there are things that should be on paper.

For years I had what is known in Oregon and Washington as a 'Advance Directive' filled out, stating what I wanted done in case of a medical emergency, and who I wanted to make those decisions for me. My sister was my designated person, since she knew my wishes, and can keep a calm head. After Steven and I got engaged, I changed that paperwork, naming him. He was irate to read that I had a DNR order in case or a severe trauma. The idea of being kept alive by machines is totally appalling to me, simply abhorrent. I know now that if something had happened to me while his name was on that paperwork, he'd have been fine with keeping me all Sunny Von Bulowed, if only so he could play the martyr.  Needless to say, his name is no longer on my papers.

I realize it is a bit grim to be thinking these kind of thoughts on a warm Spring evening, yet my mind goes back to the number of times I have awakened in an ambulance or hospital bed, and I can't help but wonder. What is going to happen if I have a seizure some day and don't wake up? I do not want things to be any more difficult for my loved ones than they need to be, and more than anything, I want things done MY WAY! Really, what is the point of a memorial service if it isn't done the way I want it? Seriously. I would be so pissed off if I looked down from Heaven and realized that they were playing "The Wind Beneath My Wings" at my service! Or if someone had the nerve to bury me in uncomfortable clothes! I swear, I refuse to go to my eternal rest wearing pantyhose and heels!

Yeah, that's me. Selfish to the end.

 

Related articles

• How Much Does it Cost to Die? (creditloan.com)


• What Is Your Funeral Director Superpower? (funeralone.com)

 

20 Questions for my 45th

Yesterday was my 45th birthday, and on the whole, it was pretty anti-climactic. I spent most of the day enjoying the benefits of Comcast on demand by watching Season 1 of Shameless. Between that I sat outside in the sun and read, which was lovely. Just having sunshine was a luxury! Oh, and I answered all the birthday greetings from friends on Facebook; that was excellent. I got a wonderful birthday gift from my sister & nephew, which they picked out weeks ago at a reptile show they went to. No, it isn't a lizard, it is an awesome Southwesterny owl necklace. I love it!

The last year of my life has been full of so much turmoil, so many ups and downs. While I have made some changes, I've mostly been sitting here, in my chair, stagnating. If there's one thing I know, it's that stagnant water STINKS! I am so tired of my life stinking. Starting now, starting here, I am churning up the water, changing my life. (Yes, I know I've said that dozens of times before. Shut up. I mean it this time.)

These questions came from a post titled 20 Questions You Should Ask Yourself Every Sunday on a blog about productive living. I am using them here as a way to give myself a guide for goals, etc. Honestly, this seems like a lot of things to worry about every single Sunday, and I'd only ask myself all these questions every six months or so. Don't expect profound answers, people. If you are looking for genius, what the hell are you doing here? Seriously? Anyway, here we go.  Text in italics is from the original post, these are my answers.

 

1. What did I learn last week? – If you have trouble answering this question, it’s time for a change.  It doesn’t matter how old you are, you should learn something new every week.  That baby powder doesn't get rid of ants; that baking with gluten free flour is not that easy; and that I have no wish to date or do anything else with guys from Craigslist.


2. What was my greatest accomplishment over the past week? – Reflecting on your accomplishments is a healthy way to raise self confidence and contentment.  It’s also an effective way to track your progress.  Umm, I didn't do much of anything last week. Big fibro flare, all sorts of health issues. However, I managed to read about 6 books, not a record for me, but pretty good. And while I have not lost any weight, I've not gained, either.


3. Which moment from last week was the most memorable and why? – It may open up your mind to new passions and goals, or simple pastimes worth revisiting. So much fun just goofing around with Max. He was on Spring Break, and was sick half the week, but when he was feeling good, he and I took turns teasing each other in the odd little way that we do. It reminded me how much I love kids, and love being social, things I miss, hiding in my room.


4. What’s the #1 thing I need to accomplish this week? – Everything else is secondary, and should be treated as such.  Nevertheless, this question will also shine light on other noteworthy tasks. The same thing I needed to accomplish last week--get my ass out of this chair and EXERCISE!! My biggest goal for this year is to get healthy, and lose weight. The only way I can really do that is by exercise, which I never do. 


5. What can I do right now to make the week less stressful? – Set reminders in your calendar, get your laundry done, fill the car with gas… organize yourself. My doctor said I should schedule in exercise, thinking that would make me more likely to do it. When she told me this, I, of course did nothing; now I am thinking it's the right idea. 


6. What have I struggled with in the past that might also affect the upcoming week? – The idea here is to learn from your struggles and better equip yourself for future encounters. Pain. Last week was full of pain. And the coming weeks likely will be, as well. I am hoping that more exercise will help with some of the pain, and will allow me to break free of the evil ibuprofen monster which is messing up my tummy. 


7. What was last week’s biggest time sink? – Steer clear of this in the future.  Setup physical barriers against distractions if you have to. Television is always my biggest distraction. I may have to hide my remote. And the chargers for my electronics, so I don't spend too much time online. 


8. Am I carrying any excess baggage into the week that can be dropped? – Physical clutter, mental clutter… eliminate the unnecessary so the necessary may shine bright. Oh, I could spend weeks cleaning up just physical baggage. My little room is small, and I will work on getting rid of more junk this week. I got rid of a lot of clothes a few weeks ago. But magazines, papers, and other crap still needs to go. Big fun.
   


9. What have I been avoiding that needs to get done? – Pencil in a time to get these things done.  For any 2-minute or less tasks, consider scheduling them first thing Monday morning. Didn't I just cover this?


10. What opportunities are still on the table? – If it’s still available and you want it, make a concrete plan to go after it this week. I'm writing. Not as much as I should, but I am. And I will figure out two things soon: a job, and a place to live. These will be on hold until after my disability hearing on April 18th. Once this limbo is decided, one way or the other, I will make a decision. 


11. Is there anyone I’ve been meaning to talk to? – Regular communication can solve problems before they fester.  Always keep an open line of communication to those around you. Yes, some near, and some far. I'd rather not mention names here, but just know some of you will be getting a phone call or email this week.


12. Is there anyone that deserves a big ‘Thank You’? – Take time each week to thank the people who have helped you.  Your kind gesture will not go unnoticed. My baby sister, Jolene. She's been here for me throughout everything, and never gets enough credit from anyone for everything she does. Same goes for my mom. 


13. How can I help someone else this coming week? – The easiest way to get what you want is to help others get what they want.  If you help them, they will remember you when you need help. I am a lazy bugger, and do very little around the house to pull me weight. I chip in when asked, but I should do more...


14. What are my top 3 goals for the next 3 years? – You’ll never make any progress in life if you don’t setup realistic goals for yourself. This is a difficult one. Three years, three things. 1) Get my own place again. 2) Get my book written  3) lose 100 pounds


15. Have any of my recent actions moved me closer to my goals? – If the answer is no, something needs to change. I'm starting on writing, but on the others, not so much...


16. What’s the next step for each goal? – Knowing the next step is the key to accomplishing the whole. I don't have an answer for this. Any ideas?


17. What am I looking forward to during the upcoming week? – The answer can act as a great source of motivation.  If nothing exists, schedule something to look forward to. I don't have plans yet, but I'm working on it. Suggestions?
    


18. What are my fears? – Consciously address your fears each week and slowly work on resolving them.  It’s all about taking baby steps. My biggest fear now is about that upcoming disability hearing, and it's outcome. I've been waiting for a year for this to happen, and I am, frankly, terrified, that these people who know nothing about me, will decide that I am "cured" of a lifelong disability, and will  cut off my health insurance. I can figure out a way to get by without the money, but I need that insurance; without it, I have no way to pay for medications, doctor visits, etc. And then I am back where I started, with seizures all the time, pain and suffering.  


19. What am I most grateful for? – It’s a smart way to keep things in perspective, and something you should never lose sight of. Every single day I am grateful to be alive, grateful that I have a family who loves and helps me. 


20. If I knew I only had one week to live, who would I spend my time with? – Another helpful reminder… Life is short.  Spend more time with the people you care about. I'd tell my family how much I loved them, every day. I'd find a way to get to Albuquerque, and see the friends there that I miss so much. Elissa, Kathy, Karen, and the rest (anybody else hearing the Gilligan's Island theme song?). 

 

These are my 20 questions, and my answers, such as they are. Someone told me last week that 45 isn't a landmark birthday. Well, for me it feels like it, especially since I know so many who never made it this far. I miss Michele every single day, and will, for the next 45 years, or until I see her again.

Questions Worth Asking -- And Some Answers

A while ago, someone sent me a link to a page entitled '25 Beautifully Illustrated Thought-Provoking Questions.' I glanced at it, thinking "Hey, that's nifty," bookmarked it, and went on with my life. Today I stumbled upon it again, and a few of these questions hit me right between the eyes.
The last few weeks have been rough, and I've spent a lot of time feeling sorry for myself. Complaining, whining, bitching, whatever you want to call it, I've done them all-in spades. (There is a reason I called this site "Read Between the WHINES!") Not enough money, bad health, bad weather, too many stupid commercials, nothing good to eat, blah blah blah. The worst thing was, after two-and-a-half years without a seizure, I had a whopper of a fit. Ended up with a huge headache, sore muscles and a nasty bitten tongue. Poor Jonna.
Then, as I was scrolling through these photos today, this question struck me.

Of course, I am aware that others have things much worse than I do. I've always been aware of that, but sometimes I forget. When I began having seizures at age 15, I took it in stride, and never made a big deal out of it, partly because my friends didn't. If my friends had flipped out, I might have, but not one of them did. I'm sure there were people in our small town high school who thought I was a weirdo, but I was not aware of them. My mom always took it the hardest. And when I began seeing specialists at the OHSU Epilepsy Center, and met young people who had never been able to have any kind of normal life because of their seizures, that was reaffirmed. I was able to do almost everything that so-called normal people did: I worked, I had a home, a life. I never had to wear a helmet, or be confined to a wheelchair. For a long time, I even drove! (Looking back at that, I am amazed at how careless I was with others lives!) Many people who have the type of seizures I do (tonic-clonic, formerly referred to as grand mal) often lose control of their bladder and/or bowels during a seizure. I have always been extremely thankful that this has never once happened to me!
So yes, I am aware that others have things much worse, in many areas. I am struggling financially, but what that really means is that I don't have spending money, and cannot afford to move. I am not homeless, nor will I be; nor am I going hungry. My family is always here for me, and I for them; so many don't have that. So, I cannot buy a new book, or get a manicure. I have a perfectly good library card, and a drawer full of nail polish. So, I can't afford that gym membership. I'd probably never go, anyway! I have perfectly good walking shoes, and the neighborhood behind us has sidewalks.


This month I turn forty-five years old, and shortly after that, the anniversary of Michele's death arrives. I miss her every day. If Shel was anything, she was positive, and she would want me to celebrate what I have, not what I am missing. Somehow, I think finding these pictures was her way of reminding me of that.

 

A Howling

I'm writing this post on an airplane to Grand Junction, where tomorrow we're having a memorial service for Michele. Whenever mother called to tell me of the service, and ask if I would like to say something, there was never any doubt in my mind. Yes.
That was just over a week ago, and I am still unsure what I'll be saying tomorrow.

Since Michele died in April, there has been a gaping hole in my life. A small tear that opened when she first told me she was sick, and grew larger with each progression of theater, until that day when she was gone. Leaving this rent in the fabric of my world. Our world, for there are many of us grieving her.
I've tried to read books by others who have lost loved ones, but never repast the first few chapters. Then I either begin crying so hard I can no longer see the page, or I become annoyed at the self-righteous tone taken by some, and my anger overflows. Either way , I end up crying.
While reading 'Wild'  by Cheryl Strayed, a memoir about a woman who hikes the Pacific Crest Trail after her mother dies of cancer, I stumbled on a passage that summed up exactly how I have felt in the last year.
"I almost howled in agony. I almost choked to death on what I knew.... I was going to live the rest of my life without my mother."
Strayed says she felt this way from the moment her mother received her diagnosis; her cancer was so advanced there was no hope. Yet for me, these words say exactly how I have felt since I received that phone call, saying Shel was gone.
Inside my mind, my soul, there is a constant howling, a never ending scream of pain and sadness, loss and grief. The person I loved most in the world is gone, and I am alone. For the rest of my life.
We will never race wheelchairs through the rest home, and annoy the nurses. We'll never make it to see Barry Manilow sing in Vegas, or do our Copa dance wearing the feathered hats we made. I'll have to sit through the next class reunion alone. And without her, I have nobody to call and tell my life to.
Every day I miss her. That will never end. I believe the noise of grief inside me will quiet down; I'm hoping tomorrow's memorial will help with that.
Until we are together again, I will grieve. I miss you, Michele.

I'm BAA-ACK!

I know, you missed me. Now you can rejoice, because I won't go away again--I promise! Lots has changed since I last posted, including location, obviously.

The last few months have been a time of many changes in my life, and the changes just keep on coming. (I feel like a David Bowie song...) A psychologist I spoke  with ( I'm seeing a psychologist. Big surprise there.) said that I'm in a "time of transition."

Transition. Oh, yeah. BIG TIME.

In March, about two weeks before my 44th birthday, I left the relationship I'd been in since 2009, and moved from Vancouver back to Portland. It was a very difficult thing to do, but one that had been a long time coming. Making that decision set me free, in many ways; don't misunderstand me, I wasn't being help prisoner or anything, but emotionally, I felt trapped. And financially, there was no way out. So I'm back in my parents house, where my money is mine, and I have my freedom while I'm waiting for my disability appeal hearing. That part of my life is up in the air: I don't know how long it'll be until the hearing, or what they'll decide. So my life is definitely in transition.

The largest change was also the worst, and has knocked me off my feet, broken my heart. On April 12, my best friend, Michele Miller Mahmood, died. The breast cancer she'd been fighting took her, and the world lost one of the best people ever created.  I'll write more about this later, because Shel deserves an entire post, and entire blog, all her own.

I'm struggling to find my way in this new world, to transition into a life where I am on my own. I've always treasured my family, but suddenly, they seem so much more precious. My sister, Jolene, is going through her own transitions, yet has given her time to help me when ever I need her. She's wonderful, and I am so thankful for her.

People keep asking what I'm going to do now. That's the million dollar question, folks! Let's figure it out together, shall we?

Butterfly of Hope

Yep, I'm back in the chilly Pacific Northwest, where the temperatures and the accents are more familiar to me. My visit to Canada was cut short, but thankfully, BFF is doing much better! While the doctors attribute this to the  chemo, I believe it was due to the powers of  ME!
Truthfully, friendship, laughter, entertainment & some relief of tension, all of which I was there to provide, due have a positive effect on everyone, sick or healthy. Never have I been so glad to be able to make someone smile as I was this last month. Sitting in the Oncology Clinic with BFF as she received blood transfusions & chemo, and saying something that made her grin or giggle was simply fabulous.
While visiting BFF, I was blessed to accompany her to Wellspring Cancer Support Center for relaxation and visualization classes. In these sessions, led by an amazing woman named Rachel, we practiced guided meditation, then had a time of discussion, sometimes about a reading Rachel presented, others about something brought up during the meditation or things going on with members of the group. The members of the group, all cancer patients and caregivers, are a mixed bunch-- men & women at all stages of treatment, from the recently diagnosed to those going through second or third diagnoses. They've learned to support themselves and each other, and I was amazed at both their vulnerability and their strength. There was hope, fear and beauty in that room, and I am proud to have been there.
Each day I continue to pray for BFF, and all the others struck by cancer. Truly, this is the sharpest weapon in Satan's armory. Pray with me, would you?

The Frozen North?

I thought Canada was supposed to be cold. That's why I packed more cardigans than t-shirts for my visit to Toronto.  I've been here a week, and the temperature has been in the high 70's or 80's every day! Jeez Louise, I felt like I was on the bayou one day, it was so muggy & hot. I kept listening for a jazz band to start playing, or frogs to croak; instead, I heard Indian & Scottish accents, Bollywood music, and saw seagulls overhead.

I'm here in Brampton, Ontario, a suburb of Toronto, for the summer, staying with my BFF Michele and her family. As my readers know, Michele is going through chemo for breast cancer. I'm came up to help her out, give my support, and entertain her if at all possible. She and her husband have three boys, ages 14, 4 & 2, so I'm trying to help with them, as well.

This is not an easy time for any of us. Stress levels are high, and there have been moments in the last week when I wanted to scream. I know I cried at least once, but I did it alone, in my room. Since they were tears of frustration & exhaustion, they were especially annoying to me.

There have been many tears here this week, as often happens in a house with little kids. These children  cry and scream a lot more than usual, and I'm not sure if that's due to the tension of their parents, or their father's parenting style.

I never understand parents who holler at their little kids "Stop crying!" as if that will work. Especially when the child has had a tantrum, and is at that point where they cannot physically make themself stop; what they need is to be held, and soothed. Shouting never works. I find myself very frustrated here, because I want so much to help, and yet I can't really interfere. I have been given the go-ahead on some things, but not others. Some of teacher skills are being used, others, ignored or contradicted. 

I have to remind myself "they aren't your kids, not really your problem, nobody really asked for your advice," and keep my mouth shut. If I can do that, and keep the eye-rolling to a minimum, all will be well.

I may need to send home for more warm weather clothes, though. It's hot here in the frozen North!

I'm Not Tom Cruise. I'm Taller.

A few days ago in a post titled 'Bubble Meds, Anyone?,' I stated that I detest anti-depressant medications. I got several rather obnoxious comments about this (which I have been deleted, because I don't want hate here), all telling me how evil and stupid I am to not recognize the wonders that are done by these medications. One commenter even compared me to Tom Cruise ranting on Oprah!

Let me say right now that the only similarities between Tom Cruise & I are height. And a sofa.

Anti-depressants, and medications as a whole, are a good thing. I know lots of folks whose lives are vastly improved by their blend of prescription drugs. Heck, if it weren't for the varied anti-seizure meds I've been on since I was 16, I'd not be able to function. It's quite possible that without those medications I'd be dead now. These medications save lives. I know that.

My issue with anti-depressants in the past has been simply that I've not yet found one that works for me. And of course, I want the quick fix. I'm not a patient person when it comes to medications--I want my pain-killers & cough syrups to work NOW!!! When the happy pills didn't make me happy as soon as I swallowed, well, I gave up. I was young, I had time to wait for the bad feelings to go away. It wasn't a matter of strength, so much as patience & time.

I'm not that young anymore. Many, many things have changed since the last time I had an episode of major depression. Back then I was living with my parents, I had no one depending on me for anything, my health was much better, and my stress level was lower. Now I'm living with my fiance and we are trying to start a business, my health is not good (although my seizures are controlled!), I'm in charge of a household. (Yes, I am!)

Stress, well, stress is high. My best friend, Michele, who just came through breast cancer with a smile on her face has been sick for the last few months. Two weeks ago they found Stage Four cancer in her bone marrow, the bones on her back, and a spot on her lungs. She began chemo last week. I want to be there holding her hand right now, but don't have the money for my passport, much less a plane ticket to Toronto, where she lives. (Her mom is there, so she has help.) But can you understand why my stress level just flew up?

Anyway. My point is that I do not have anything against these medications or the people who take them. I'm not looking for a quick fix this time; I'm willing to be patient.

But if Tom Cruise shows up, telling me all I need are vitamins & exercise to fix my depression, there's gonna be one less Scientologist in the world.

Lemons and Lessons

I have to say, I'm not sorry 2010 is over. In many ways, that year sucked, big time.

I spent most of the year in pain with migraines, and various other things. As well, money was nearly non-existent, after Steven was injured at work, and then lost his job. By the end of the year, we had to move from our two-bedroom apartment into a much smaller one-bedroom, along with all our stuff, and the three animals. Instead of saving us money, we ended up owing our landlord for fees.

It seemed as if every time I turned around, 2010 was bitch-slapping me with another bit of bad news. I dreaded turning on the news, for fear I'd hear of another oil spill, hurricane or tornado, or god-forbid, a massive lay-off somewhere! Everyone I know has struggled through, either battling health issues, financial problems, or both. An optimists nightmare. I'm a glass half-full girl, but it was difficult to keep the glass from shattering during 2010.

But. (Yes, there is always a "but")

Smooth seas do not make skillful sailors.

Which means that in even though many things were awful, there were also many learning moments. I've learned that even when I have pain, I don't have to be one. (I can thank Sarah Palin & Kate Gosselin for that lesson, in part. Never thought I'd be thanking them for anything!)

I've learned that if you want to make your dreams come true, the first thing you have to do is wake up. For me, that means if I want to accomplish anything, I have to get dressed, not spend the day in my pajamas, and actually leave the apartment. They say that motivation doesn’t last. Well, neither does bathing – that’s why we do it daily. My sister's advice about building a habit in fourteen days was one of the best things I learned all year! (Thanks, Jolene!)

There were also many good moments in 2010, and I would be wrong if I neglected to mention them. After almost a decade apart, my best friend, Michele and I were finally in the same place at the same time, and our visit was AWESOME! She's been battling breast cancer up there in the frozen north, and I've been missing her down here, so just being together in our home town, with her entire family, her wonderful kids & husband, was the highlight of my year. For a while I was able to forget everything else and just be happy. We talked, laughed, ate, shopped, cried, ate, laughed, giggled, and sang old Barry Manilow songs. We even stood in front of the mirror & did each other's hair, just like the old days! Sharing the beauty of western Colorado with Steven was fabulous, too!

My nephew Max started first grade, was in three plays this year, and as far as he's concerned, he was the star of each! Max and Steven have become good friends, and every time I hear Maxie call out "Uncle Steven!" in that joyous voice, my heart lifts!

Max's big sister, Hattie Jo, turned 17 this year, and is amazing! Hattie is the girl I'd want if I had a daughter--she's smart, funny, polite, and talented, beautiful. She's a lot like me. Hattie has been my friend since she was born, and I love watching her grow into such an incredible woman.

Anyway. I'm rambling. This rough year has helped me to see how important my loved ones are. Memories and moments. Lessons and...something else that starts with an "s"...lemons?

Sure. Lessons and lemons. Because when life gives you lemons, you make lemonade. And add some vodka. Then you have a party!!

I don't make resolutions anymore-- I learned a long time ago that I break those quicker than I break eggs for breakfast. I do set goals, and I'd like to share a few of them with you.

In 2011:

Re-read one favorite book a month, and write about it.

Make a scrapbook for my nephew Max.

Write a blog post twice a week.

Practice yoga daily.

Learn Vancouver's bus system.

Volunteer.

Read more; watch television less.

Exercise more.

Express my gratitude daily.

So there you have it. My goals for 2011. I'm hoping this bright, shiny new year will be a better one for all of us, with little fear of shattering glass, or throwing those lemons at anybody's head! Happy New Year, everyone!