Tag Archives: self analysis

What it is like

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Social media can truly be a miracle sometimes. When asked a question you have time to think without your facial expression giving it away or making it awkward. It is a small thing but one I find very helpful. Recently I was talking with someone who had just gotten diagnosed with a chronic pain illness. It would be a matter of constantly managing it. She asked me, “What is it like? How do you do it? I just can’t imagine ever being okay with this. It is so distracting and I absolutely hate it.”  I agreed. I still feel all of that. It hasn’t gone away, more like it is just simmering.
Simmering, yeah that is a good description. Let’s go with that. It is a lot like cooking a meal that will never ever be done but you know it will be worth it.  It is a labor intensive meal like Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner. It is like you have four pots on the stove and something in the oven.
One pot is emotional/mental health. One pot is physical health. One pot is spiritual. One pot is work and in the oven is the family. Just like in cooking you have to keep adding ingredients and it can simmer on its own for a bit but it needs a stir now and then. Every so often, and often when you feel you have it the most under control, all the pots start boiling over. Sometimes some smoke even starts coming from the oven.  Normally though the boiling over happens one at a time and you can handle it and move on. You take a taste every once in a while to check on it as a means to see how it is coming along. Sometimes tasting can tell you if there is a problem. Sometimes it tastes good but really something has started to go bad you just can’t taste it yet.
Then there is the other problem. Suddenly an ingredient is no longer working. It is no longer bonding with everything in the pot to make it one solid thing. It could be that self-care has fallen off your radar. It could be that you cut back on exercise. It could be that you thought it was self-care by sleeping in on Sunday, but really you hadn’t done anything else for spiritual health so it really wasn’t self-care. It could be that you cut back on exercise–physical health–for good reason, yet it negatively affected another part of physical health, vitamin D.  Sometimes you find an ingredient you thought would work well actually doesn’t and you have to take it back out of the pot.  Sometimes while you are disposing of that ingredient another pot starts to boil over. Don’t forget you changed the dynamics of that one pot you took the ingredient out of so you will need to adjust the temperature!
Yes, but that is essentially life isn’t it? You have to add the chronic pain as well. You are right about that, we are handling that as well. Hopefully each of the pots and the oven are helping that. Chronic pain though, that is the tricky element. That is the part that makes the ingredients suddenly stop working so well. That is the part that says, “that worked for a while, but now, not so much.”
On the really good days the chronic pain is like the background noise of the dishwasher going. You hear it, you know it’s going on. You just try not to pay too much attention to it until it dings. When it dings that is when you find out that suddenly the soap you were using didn’t work or something got gummed up in the hose and the rinse cycle didn’t go off. Sometimes there is not even running water to wash the dishes by hand while all the other stuff is happening. Chronic pain does that. You find something and your brain says, “hey, thanks this is really working,” so it starts focusing on something else more pressing.
So essential pain management just becomes part of your routine. I can’t tell you when it happens, just that it does. I can tell you that I am never okay with it. Chronic pain just adds to depression and anxiety because you are constantly longing for what you cannot have. Things you used to do are no longer an option. It took quite a bit of looking around trying to figure out what I wanted to do. It took even longer for me to realize that what I want to do will always be in flux. Some days I am overwhelmed that my health issues are only going to get worse as I age  because they are degenerative. Degeneration is already an issue as you get older. It is just sped up in my case.
Some days though, I don’t care. I am enjoying the moment for all that it is. Those are the days that make all the above worth it. They balance out all the bad days where all the pots are boiling over there is smoke coming from the oven and the dishwasher just plain won’t work.
It takes a lot of self-analysis to make those good days happen. In the beginning, I fought that. Don’t look too closely. Don’t fix what isn’t broken. If it is hanging on by a thread and still working, it isn’t broken. There comes a time though that it just doesn’t work any more. Nothing about it works and self-analysis is forced on you. You have to sit down and look at it. You have to acknowledge the problem.
Slowly you realize that sometimes you could be a bit more proactive. For a time that is all it is. A thought. You don’t act on it. Then one day you do something proactive and you see it pan out that it fixed a problem you didn’t even realize was coming. I am not saying that before you know it you are doing this all the time. I am not. I know I am not. I know there is always room for improvement.
At the end of the day, that is what I tell myself. I think about the things I handled proactively and the things I didn’t respond to that I should have. Tomorrow. Tomorrow I tell myself, we will try again. We are not going to try harder because we are already trying our hardest. We will just simply try again. I can tell you that if you keep telling yourself this each night you will believe it. I can’t tell you how long that will take. It could take months. It’s harsh to think that, Months! I can’t take months! I need a fix now! So take a deep breath and remind yourself that slow and steady cooks the meal.

 

 

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Compassionate acceptance of love (#1000speak post)

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Compassionate acceptance of love (#1000speak post)

Growing up I was told boys loving boys was wrong. Girls loving girls was wrong. Thinking you were a boy when you had girl parts was wrong and vis versa. I was told you don’t question God.God didn’t make mistakes. I never really gave it much thought until a friend came out as a lesbian. Now what do I do? I like her as a person. She is a great friend. According to the religion I was part of at the time, I was not to associate with her anymore. She was openly admitting to a “sin” and not trying to change. When I turned to the church for guidance , I came away feeling like I had done something wrong. I had such immense guilt for wanting to keep the friendship I had. To turn someone away for being who they were was just not part of me.

It took me a long time to work out how I felt about love being love. I had to work past these stumbling blocks I didn’t even know I had. It was not to be talked about so I found myself stumbling. I was lucky to have a friend who was willing and open to let me stutter it out and really dissect how I ,personally felt. I felt a openess and acceptance that I had not felt when I turned to the church. There was a lot of back and forth. Was she born this way? Was it a choice? I saw her dating guys was she faking it? How did she see me? Was she attracted to me? What was her type? Did she have a type? Is this something she was trying out? Didn’t she want babies? She not only explained most of it calmly and openly but she also questioned me back.   Are you sure it’s what you believe or is that just what you have been led to believe? It wasn’t easy and there was definitely squirming in our seats on both sides. We were both works in progress, still are.

It made our friendship stronger. I like to think it made us stronger as individuals as well. However, that was not the end of it. Later I found out that she was holding things back. She told me, Saying that I don’t approve of your choices but it’s your life isn’t acceptance. It is not compassionate. In fact it made her feel guilty, like she couldn’t share everything with me. She wanted to have girl talk and relationship discussions but  when she did she felt very judged. Here I thought I was being so helpful. I was making it worse, which was the opposite of what I wanted to do.  The opposite of what I thought I was doing. I had put conditions on my acceptance and thus our relationship.It wasn’t all one-sided. We had an open and honest enough relationship that she told me about some choices I had made that she didn’t agree with.  It was shocking to me that she actually didn’t approve of some of my decisions. I had not felt any disapproval from her.I never felt judged. She always seemed genuinely happy with whatever decision I made. That was when I realized she was mixing compassion with her acceptance. I am glad she was openly honest with me about her sexual preference. I am glad she was unapologetic about it. It really made me think.  It was easy to say no it is a sin and not acceptable when it wasn’t personal. I didn’t have to think much about it. I realize now how unusual that was for someone to be able to openly and unapologetically say this is who I am take it or leave it. It wasn’t easy for her but she had gone through her own storms to come to the point she was at. We are no longer such close friends. It had nothing to do with her sexual preference. Sometimes you just drift apart. I am forever thankful for the friendship we did have. The learning and growing I went through. Perhaps those lessons were the whole reason she was in my life to begin with.

It wasn’t until I started trying to think compassionately about others decisions that I realized how wrong I had been. Acceptance needs compassion to take the sting out of differences of opinion. Without it acceptance doesn’t mean nearly as much.  As much as we say we do not care what others think, we do. On some level we do. We may not even be conscience of it. The point is, I realized that in order to be accepting of others, compassion is integral. Compassion for myself as I explored what I really truly believed. Compassion for what she was going through and her feelings. True acceptance of someone for who they are is wrapped and entwined with compassion.  As you go through the journey you realize sometimes acceptance is leading and sometimes compassion is leading. At some point you realize they are no longer entwined, they have become one. In the end though there is just love. Love for a friend. Love for another human being. In order to accept that love is love no matter what circumstance requires acceptance at every turn and a blanket of compassion.

 

Join us as we spread warm fuzzy feelings across the interwebs every twentieth to drowned out the sad and horror and bad stuff that bombards us every day. Write and link up, read, comment, share, it all matters. We are not looking to make big huge ripples. Little ripples are much more effective and they can amaze us with their power.

Connecting with Compassion to who I am #1000speak

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Everybody dreams what their life will be like when they are older. Especially when you are a teenager and life is so hard and no one even remotely understands you. Life will be so much better when you are an adult and in charge.I would get married. We would have at least two kids but probably more and of course we would have a boy first and then a girl. We would have this nice house which I would always be able to keep clean. We would have success after success at our careers. We would have money for vacations and would be well-traveled. This picture of how it will be drives you on and on and on. Until it doesn’t. Until that is not how your life is going at all, not even remotely. Your daydreams didn’t account for reality. They didn’t account for infertility, job loss, deaths of loved ones, and on and on the list could go. That’s the problem I struggled with for a while, the picture of my life in my head and how it really has gone.

Many days and nights spent berating myself for messing it up so badly. I obviously wasn’t trying hard enough, doing enough, being enough. I had to get my act together. It was past time to grow up and be the adult I dreamed I would be. In time, I added to that. It was time to be the wife I dreamed I would be. It was time to be the mother I dreamed I would be. It was time I had the career I wanted. I was so good at criticizing myself. Really , I still am.

Every month for a week at a time I would beat myself up. It was so easy to get pregnant we had been told. It only takes one time. Every month I struggled with the feelings of not being enough. Not being woman enough to do a simple thing like get pregnant. Made worse only by doctors who said “ah your young it will happen. There is nothing wrong.” Nothing wrong at all with a nineteen year old, a twenty year old, a twenty-one year old trying month after month to get pregnant and failing. Month after month of seeing my dreams flushed down the toilet, literally. Finally when a doctor did believe, I wasn’t relieved. I didn’t feel vindicated. I felt broken. The day came and the test was positive, for a short while everything was back in place. Then it was gone. I was back to flushing my dreams down the toilet. That picture in my head said I should be pregnant with baby number two by now. That picture in my head was starting to shake and tremble. If I was really honest that picture had broken years ago but I refused to see it.

The test was positive. I took a million more. I didn’t really believe it. I was sure something was going to happen. Even as I was in labor, something would happen. My dreams can’t be coming true. I will mess this up some how. We were leaving the hospital with a baby. WITH. A. BABY. For a few days I believed and then, you have eighteen years to mess this up every day. For eighteen months I worried about every single detail. No, I didn’t worry, I obsessed. I question every decision at least ten times. My house could never be clean enough, I could never be doing enough for this precious life. Obviously the only answer was to try for another baby. You know so I could mess it up twice. I mean so I could get at least one right. Maybe. Two months and nothing. So much for the second time being so much easier. Then the phone call. My husband lost his job. Laid off. Back to the doctor I went, for birth control.

At this point you maybe wondering if I had the same issues around getting married. The simple answer is no. The process was not simple at all. Three weeks after we met my husband was in a car accident. He had been taken by Helicopter out to a trauma hospital. Scary words were said, like life support, coma, brain injury. To see someone like that is not easy. To see someone like that and suddenly know they can’t die your suppose to marry this person.The only second guessing I have is , if he hadn’t been in that accident would I have ever known? Would I have messed that up and walked away. For a long time that answer was probably. Probably I would have walked away from the greatest thing in my life. I am sure I would have messed it up.

One day it was clear. I needed help. Therapy started quickly, before I changed my mind. Medication happened. Medication changes and more therapy. It took me years to be comfortable with self-analysis. This was just simply not done. You simply didn’t do self- analysis with someone else. This is what you did in bed late at night when no one was around. Most certainly you never told anyone, let alone discussed it. Slowly progress was made. Until it all fell apart. It like literally fell apart, got laid off then my car blew up and then I wrecked my “new” car. I tried to pick it back up and worked at a new job for three months and then I realized. No my family is more important to me then this. This work and have nothing left, using medications that allowed me to work but ultimately would shorten my life considerably. My family deserved more than this.

It really wasn’t though, it just seemed like it. Instead it was all falling into place. All that therapy was not for nothing. I have been slowly coming to accept where I am. The first thing I had to do was tear up and burn that picture in my head of how life was supposed to be. Chronic illness had dictated long ago just how clean I could get and keep my house. It dictated a lot of things for a while. Second thing was to tell this chronic illness crap it wasn’t the boss of me, well not all the time. I started writing as a form of self-analysis and as something that maybe eventually one day it would help someone else. Even if it only helped me it was worth it.

Four years later, trying to look back to what really ultimately helped me make the change. The change that took me from a person who had to please everyone else even if it didn’t please her to the one who likes to please others but knows she has to please herself as well. I can’t tell you how much watching tv show after tv show actually helped because I stayed true to what truly interested me. How many Doctor Who episodes I watched at just the right time. The universe was getting its message to me.

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I can’t tell you how much these words stuck with me long after the episode was over. I can’t tell you how much I really just sat and thought about how I feel about these words. There were quite a few others I am sure that I heard but didn’t really hear. I know now that it wasn’t the right time for me to hear them. Somewhere along the way I found myself back to being an avid reader. Somehow I was finding myself. Four years of this, so don’t think it was just one day. I can’t tell you where I was in the journey when I saw this next quote. I just know it stuck with me.

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Huh, yeah. THAT. For a while I just related to this post. I would see it and it would always get a “like”. Then maybe I shared it. The more it sat in my brain just percolating the more I thought about it. Then came the final point, the epiphany if you will. What if I just let go of that picture? What if instead of burning it or ripping it in anger of how it was “suppose” to be. I just let it go. Slowly, I began to actually enjoy my life. I began to start analyzing what I do have about a year ago.

I can’t tell you that voice that always says I am not enough, not doing enough is gone. It is not. It is not always easily squelched under foot either. This is where Buddhism has really come into play for me. Reading some of the Buddhist texts and books available through the Unitarian Universalist Library in our Church I found this quote.  This quote quite often becomes my mantra during meditation.

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I can’t tell you how many times that voice tries to rise and I can only answer Self compassion repeated over and over. I am not quite there yet. I am not quite to who I am yet. I am getting closer and stronger in it every day though.I am trying every day to connect with who I am instead of who I thought I would be.  I hope you are too. I hope you are showing yourself compassion because that voice is wrong. It is dead wrong. You are enough.

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Please do CONNECT with Compassion and Link up to 1000 Voices of Compassion Speak

It is not over …..A call to action…..#1000speak

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Did you miss linking up for `1000 voices speak for compassion but want to? Well the good news is; it is continuing!! Be sure you are following the FACEBOOK, TWITTER, GOOGLE+ and the BLOG!

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Quote found on Pinterest Robert E. Ricciardelli

March 20th 1000 voices speak for compassion is continuing.The subject is still compassion but has a more specific tone, building on bullying. You can write on any subject about compassion and link-up. We just thought compassion encompasses so much we could narrow it down a little as well. Please do not feel you HAVE to write about bullying. We do want to stress that the emphasis should remain on a positive light. Some thoughts to consider: Can we have compassion for bully’s? Why should we have compassion for bully’s.  Do Bully’s deserve compassion? How would I show a bully compassion? Do I model being compassionate to ALL people(including bullys) to my child? How can I show compassion to someone I consider a bully? I will be writing specifically about having compassion for bully’s, not the behavior but the person. It is quite a thought to wrap your brain around, I know.

 

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Quote found on Pinterest

Stay tuned for the link up on March 20th and GET WRITING!!!

Sparkly happy on a cloudy day TTOT #83

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Ten Things of Thankful

Well it is Wednesday before I have even started this post.
In my defense I have been really busy. There was playing with baby goats, and working, and walking and more working. Some house cleaning, some waiting on repair man. Oh and a parent teacher conference and that was just Sunday to Wednesday.

Honestly Monday was a crap day. Outside it was grey and dreary and foggy. In my head it was black and thundering and foggy too.

It is however my first item on my list of thankful’s. Being that it is now Wednesday and I can look back. I am thankful for the bad days because I can see how far I have come. They are just days now. Not weeks. Not months. Days. Sometimes there is no plural to that word, as in day!

Let’s back track a bit though. Sunday the besties were coming over and the house was a mess. Fast thinking as I am. Lets take some carrots and whatnot down and feed the goats. Easily we can spend enough time there and then walk to church. Oh had I only known how fantastic this would be. I would have brought instant hand sanitizer. We got to the goat pasture and they were penned up inside the pasture. However when we had walked by the barn we heard people talking. Let me just go and see if they will let the goats out. Farmer Brian did one better. He let the girls come back and go into the pen. He showed them how to pick them up after you pinned one down. Goat kids are pretty darn fast. The giggling, the petting, the naming of the babies. Oh so much fun was had. Farmer Brian even had a bit of an ulterior motive. He let the girls catch the ones he wanted to inspect. OOOOOOHHH the squeals! To be helpful and have fun. Well nothing beats that.  However it was a good ten minute walk and I felt like I must have said 100 times.Don’t touch your face. Keep your hands where I can see them. AS soon as we got to church they were marched into the bathroom for a good handwashing.  Despite our best efforts. We still brought goat poop to church on the bottom of our shoes.

Of course there are pictures. I will only share a collage instead of the 35 I took in twenty minutes! (thankful ten,I was still able to enjoy the girls joy and still feel I had adequately documented it for treasured memories later)

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Thankful two is this awesome project that has brought me so so so much happiness and mood boosts and joy already.

#1000speak

Compassion has been something that I have been dwelling on more and more. When Lizzi tagged me in this project. I just can’t even describe how fast my brain said. THIS! Compassion for others and what they are going through.Compassion for myself. Giving myself just as much compassion as I would another. Just stopping and instead of instantly judging and being sassy and sarcastic to look at (fill in blank) with love and kindness. (Thankful nine is for perfect timing, a lesson I am still learning)

Thankful Three is a fantastic Parent teacher conference. I didn’t feel pressured to get my daughters learning disabilities diagnosed or to have her medicated.(thankful eight)  There was a free flow of communication and I really felt empowered leaving that conference.

Thankful four is a working dryer. Oh my gosh how much this makes me happy is ridiculous.

 This brings us to Thursday.

Oh look I forgot to fill this in,  but am too lazy to go back through and change the post.  Thursday I got to see two hawks rather close. They are so regal and gorgeous. They have a quiet look of arrogance that only a bird-of-prey can have.

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(Thankful Seven)

Friday…

The day I decided not to function to loose myself in the vampire diaries and go to my reading spot extra early.

I had clawed my way out of the dark stormy turmoil of Mondays brain and the weather seemed to mock Me. Here I was happy and content. It was grey overcast and foggy. I could sit in my parking spot look at the three trees feel the cool breeze and the baking feeling of the sun. As I sit crossed legged in my car with the windows down because fuck you hips and knees and ankles. Until it brings tears to my eyes to do it -I will sit how ever I want not how arthritis tells me to sit, even if I have to hand maneuver my limbs into place. I could appreciate the beauty. I could say, yes I know I am teetering on that edge. Several years earlier I would not have even realized I had wandered off the path let alone was lost. (thankful six)It doesn’t make the depression feel any less imposing. The problem with depression is it always wears you down…I know I will always have a day where I just can’t function. I don’t want to function so I have nothing to fight it with. I often know it is coming and fight to get it to a day where just maybe my world won’t fall apart if I don’t participate for a day. I can do all the deep breathing and meditation I want it just makes me sleepy but yet I won’t sleep. In the days before that no functioning day I feel myself grasping desperately at my self help tools. Sometimes I even feel them slip between my fingers despite my tight grip.they ooze through my fingers incredibly slick and slimey and smooth all at the same time.  That day of not functioning I read a lot of blogs. I read books I watch mindless TV. My thoughts don’t often bring me to tears. I have found I have to watch super sappy TV shows to cry to.There fore I am not crying for myself but for the TV show. Yes I am crying for those TV characters not myself. Perhaps if I could here and there cry I could avoid a no function day. That however did not happen so as odd as it may sound. I am thankful my nonfuctioning day came on a day I was able to be nonfunctioning. That is thankful five.

So now that I am only at five. Time to go through my week again,thus numbers that seem out of order-but are not.

The truth about flares

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I often get accused of being a chronic complainer.I don’t post how i feel for sympathy. Sometimes just seeing it in black and white helps me.  I just need to vomit it all out so I can move on. Its cathartic. This is not to say I don’t appreciate the comments.

Chronic illness is an asshole. Sometimes it makes me seem like an asshole. Most of the time in a flare I feel like I am being an asshole.
When I am resting I still feel like I am being lazy. I still think you are thinking I am being lazy. You can tell me all you want that you are not. When I have to cancel plans there is a part of me that feels I am just making an excuse. I know, if I went the pain would magnify. I know it.

Chronic illness makes your anxiety triple. Anxiety is an asshole too. Anxiety over what I do get done in a day. Anxiety over what I don’t get done in a day. Anxiety over what others are thinking about what I did today. Anxiety often makes me feel like I am being a complete wimp.
I feel ridiculous saying my skin hurts. Or any other body part that is acting up.
I feel like it’s an excuse even when I know the pain is too much to push through.Dishes have to get done ,I know that. It would seem standing doing dishes should be no big deal. Standing is a lot more work then we realize. There is a reason it takes babies so long to learn. There is a reason they get tired easily from it. If I do push myself my hips,knees and ankles blossom into painful bursts. If I keep pushing my hands will start to cramp up.  Have you ever tried to wash a plate and had your hand cramp. Most times I break the plate. It would make sense to stop doing the dishes before that happens. That is the thing though, the frustration, you don’t want to stop.

I am just as frustrated about my body flaring as you are, if not more. My brain is still functioning and often going a thousand miles a minute. I am thinking of all the things I need to get done. The things I should be doing. It is even more frustrating to feel somewhat okay while laying down yet, within five minutes of being up doing things, you are exhausted and often shaking.

I have a tendency to emotionally eat. Yes I know I shouldn’t eat that but sometimes emotions need to be fed. I do try very hard to balance my emotional eating with healthy eating. I do aim for that balance. I know full well I will pay for it later. Sometimes I feel it is worth it. Sometimes later when I am paying for it, I think I was being stupid. Just because I ate it yesterday or last week or last month doesn’t mean I can eat it during a flare. I could have eaten it yesterday and today it makes me want to vomit. I could have had it at lunch and my stomach tolerated it just fine. Eating it with dinner, not so much. It can be as small as garlic or lemon or as big as chicken. There is often no rhyme or reason to it.

So there it is the cold hard truth about flares and complaining.

Ebb and flow of parenting with chronic illness

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One thing that eludes me is consistency. Some of that is A.D.D., some of that is just life.  Chronic illness doesn’t really allow for consistency. It is super annoying.  It bleeds over into parenting. When my illnesses are flaring or acting up, I tend to slack off on parenting. I know I do this.I hate it.  I dislike how much TV she watches while I lay in bed. It takes energy I just do not have, to keep on top of her.  I want to always be that mom who is fully involved and happily multi tasking making dinner while the kid is doing homework. It is just not realistic for this to be happening daily though.

This morning  Actually it started the night before, we did homework for hours. Why hours? Because I was resting. She was supposed to be sitting at the table doing her homework. I could hear when she got off task. I made sure to point it out to her. When she was crying for like the fourth time I told her to pack it up. We would finish it in the morning. She is a horribly early morning child  anyway so why not. This lead her getting up an hour earlier than normal,because she was worried about not having enough time.  Between slurping coffee and getting really frustrated she is not focusing. The guilt starts. The guilt that I should have been more on top of this. I should have. I should have. I should have.  This is what goes through my head. I know on one hand, that I could have done things differently. Then again, she is nine. She is old enough to be responsible for her homework.

It’s not like I don’t know it’s coming. It’s not like I don’t know its due. It is more like, It just gets set aside in the hurry of every day. We set it aside because this came up or that came up. We set it aside because I am not feeling well,  we will do it tomorrow. I will feel better tomorrow because I rested today and I am going to take it easy tomorrow. That by the way never actually happens.  Then suddenly it is due tomorrow.

We get her homework packet Thursday after school. We pour over it like it’s the newest gossip magazine. Look how many pages of math! Oh, look you get to do this! I have an idea for that! We really do plan on tackling it. Thursday we are good about filling in her reading log, including the summary of what she read. We mark down what flashcards she did in Math. Friday, we normally have a family treat. However on the way there I normally make her read her book. There is a fifty-fifty chance it will get written down when we get home.   Saturday, sometime after I arise from the abyss of sleep, around eight am I look at her homework packet. We might even tackle some of it.  Then the outside is calling because it is fall in Florida. It is splendid weather outside. Not cold, not hot, windy but not windy to make it miserable.  In other-words, paradise. Sunday morning is out because church. The next thing I know its Monday. When I pick her up it’s all gusto. We are going to get it done. She reads. She does math. I am knee-deep in making dinner.  “Yeah I don’t care what you do. OUT of the Kitchen!” We have tomorrow. We will knock it out tomorrow. You get the picture.

Sometimes at the end of the day, I think “yup, nailed it today.” I got work done. I got the kid fed,to school-fed and in bed. I took time for me. Go Me! Then there are other days that at the end of the day. I think : ” Well breathing was really hard today.”

I think sometimes us chronic illness sufferers give the wrong impression about flares. Sometimes, it really is a flare and we never even saw it coming. We went to bed. We woke up having a new sympathy with road-kill. Most of the time though, it is not like that. I have weeks where I really feel on top of it. I have medicated at all the right times. I haven’t pushed the limits too far. I have eaten healthy and slept decent and taken personal time. Then it slowly starts off. By slowly I mean like from one day to the next. It just slowly one thing after another stops working. The medications are not as effective. I have more muscle aches than joint aches but I am still treating for the joint aches. Maybe what I did one week didn’t push the limits, so I do it again the following week. Uh oh. Limits reached and exceeded. What? I just did that!  I ran later than expected grocery shopping or cleaning so I had less me time in the car waiting to pick her up. It just slowly builds. Those kinds of flares are easier to recover from. It is like a light goes on and I am able to fix things. I start medicating  right. I give a little extra self-care. The times that it just WHAM! BAM! No thank you Ma’am. Those times we dread because so much of the time, we have to wait it out.  I can try to medicate. I can try to listen to my body and see if there is some craving it has. Most of the time, it is waiting though.

How do you parent when you feel like that? How do you parent when it’s not consistent?

You learn to go with the ebb and flow of your illness’. You learn to ebb and flow parenting. You learn to take advantage of when you do feel good.

I am still working on it.

No one asked you paranoia anxiety!

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Okay so technically there is no such thing as paranoia anxiety.  They are two separate conditions. It feels the same though. Anxiety can mimic paranoia in a lot of ways.

Anxiety often has you thinking very negative thoughts and sometimes even believing the negative thoughts. Paranoia you can’t see that its a delusion. No amount of therapy can help you see that lie.  So I know, after years of therapy, that it is in fact just anxiety.

I really hate though when it gets that severe. I start wondering if other people are reading my text messages. I have not left my phone anywhere. Then a voice in the back of my head says, “oh but they have technology that allows that.”  When its really bad I can get sucked into that and really disconnect from people. This normally leads to a depression. Luckily last night I was able to recognize it for what it was. I listened to some meditation, made fun of it and tried to move on.  It is not as easy as that makes it sound. It took years in therapy and wanting to move past these hurdles. I read books about retraining your brain. I use meditation to help me focus on positive thoughts. Positive thoughts help drowned out the anxiety.

No matter how good the medication combo is, no matter how much therapy, its always going to be there. I just have to remember that. I have to remember that its not always because of something I did. I wasn’t eating as healthy, sleeping as much, or whatever. I know my triggers. I know I hit some of them on our vacation. It took a lot last night to be able to make fun of it. It took a lot to pull out my toolbox for fighting anxiety. Sometimes I tell myself to just go through the motions. Somewhere along the lines, it does actually start to help.

It’s not completely gone today, but it is better. Writing helps. I will also probably go through our vacation photos and edit some. It always makes me happy. I will only have positive shows on today. Things like food network or something similar. This is opposed to my normal Law and Order or Criminal shows. They are too negative to watch with anxiety flaring. I will make it a point to go outside when the dog needs to go. Sunshine really does help. Even just five minutes outside can be so helpful.  The other thing I will make sure to do today is hydrate.  I have been drinking some soda but I will counter it with water. For every oz of soda I drink I plan on drinking two oz of water. If I could get past the fatigue from our vacation without caffeine I would. Well honestly I would try.  I doubt I would succeed at that.

The idea of pain relief

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Its been… um.. let me think… Seven years? I think. It all runs together. I no longer remember not being chronically sick or dealing with Chronic pain.

Once upon a time I was taking prescription level strength pain medications. Now I get over the counter pain relief medications.

Now I laugh when I see them call them pain relief.

Oh honey aren’t you cute. Its more of a pain dampener. Its like after the mind numbing silence someone turns on static and you think well this is nice. But then it fades and the static gets quieter and we are back. Sometimes it doesn’t even do that.

I know I have an amazing ability to push it aside most of the time. For me, most of the time it is mind over matter. Meditation has gone a long long long way to help me here. If I am in motion I am less likely to notice it. It is so much easier for me to stay in motion once I start. To just go from one thing to the next.If I let myself rest , I feel it. I don’t want to start again. This is part of the reason mornings are so difficult. Its that initial get in motion activity that is so hard to do.

I have too many sensory issues to use much in the way of creams or gels during the day. As hard as it is to believe the sensation that the cream or gel creates is more distracting to me than the actual pain.  Same with pain patches and what not. Sure I could go through the hoops and motions and get back on Lortab or something similar. The question remains though, at what cost? They were making my health deteriorate faster and with a family history of drug dependence and abuse, I am more comfortable not being on them.

In the end this means I spend a lot of time at the end of the day getting out of pain. I take Tumeric and ginger during the day for the pain and it does help. At night I often flop between aspirin and Tylenol, ice packs, epsom salt baths and sometimes even massage.

Everyone has to do what is right for them when it comes to pain management.  For awhile , for me, it was prescription medications. For now , for me, this is how I manage. It will change again. I know it will. That is one thing this journey has taught me. Pain management is all about change because our body has this wonderful way of adapting to  pain. We become tolerant of the level of pain. We become tolerant to the type of pain relief we are using.  Had anyone told me that I would tolerate a pain level of five as my normal pain level on any given day when I first started. I would have laughed until I cried.  Had they told anyone that when I rate my pain a three I consider it a really really good day. ……  The pain can only be pushed aside so much before it demands to be felt. I probably would have told them to keep the drugs coming, I don’t want to feel that.

Don’t be so hard

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It occurred to me today that I have been unreasonably hard on myself. I have been wondering why things I used to be able to do are such a struggle lately. It was only in discussion over some of this with a friend that I realized the difference was medication. I am not on prednisone, soma and Lortab. That I have taken steps that means I can do less but will live longer, and healthier.

When I went off the medications it was not by choice. I was sure I was going to be back right on them as soon as I found a doctor that would listen. Between the weight gain and how sedentary my life had become, I knew I needed to make changes. I just didn’t want to think about it too closely.I dealt with it slowly and piece by piece.

Sometimes just realizing that you are being unreasonably hard on yourself, that allows you to relax a little. I am going to try and focus more on what I have done each day than what I have not done. I am going to try and remember that being off those medications is a good thing and that it just makes self care even more important.

I have realized that I have depended on certain activities to relieve stress. The problem is they are not relieving stress. It took me a while to notice this. It is time to switch up some of my self care things.  Summer is coming. Well really in Florida Summer never leaves but the kid is out of school in a week.  There is going to be more variety. More embracing what and who we are. There is just going to be more.

I know I have said this in the past. I have done it in the past. Each time I am a step closer to where I want to be. I just have to remember that and not get frustrated that it feels like I am back where I started. I am not. I know that I am not when I really stop and look back.  Its a process. Sometimes its the process that is frustrating. Sometimes just acknowledging that makes it a difference. Gives us a fresh perspective and renewed motivation.

Tomorrow I turn a year older. Here is to understanding the process and embracing it all, the good  and the bad!