Author: damynx

I write. I journal. I blog. I share.

Wanting Vs. Doing Vs. Needing

I want……….

  • to go back to school to spiff up my phlebotomy credentials (long story)
  • to write at night and on weekends
  • to have a clean and neat room, with my bed made and laundry done
  • to go on hikes on weekends and maybe learn to Glamp from time to time
  • to make jewelry for gifts and for myself….maybe even to sell
  •  to keep working a full time job so I can have a full time pay

Vs.

I’m doing……….

  • 8hrs a day on a less than taxing job but still need to take a nap in my car
  • I’m registering for school but will have to do it in person instead of online, terrified I’ll sleep through it or fail
  • I clean my room by turning off the light and turning on the TV
  • I get out of bed late on weekends and then require a few naps to get through the day
  • The thought of pulling out and putting away all my jewelry making stuff is exhausting in itself
  • Honestly, I don’t know how I’ve been able to keep a full time job.

Okay, I’m tired right now. I really have no reason to be, other than I stayed up too late last night. But when I’m in these moods I wonder if I will ever be able to have a normal life, if I’ve ever had a normal life. My Mom is insistent that I just need to “push through” and “fight back” and basically “get over it” and I will be fine. Sometimes I think she’s right, very rarely, and I try and spin myself back out of control. I think I need a routine…a “doing” and slowly build from there. I keep changing this idea of what my day should look like beyond going to work, going home, going to bed, getting up and going to work, going home, going to bed.

Right now I’m thinking that Mediation is the direction I should be going in. Of course I can’t do that until I have a space cleaned in my room, which means I need to work in my room, which means I need to do my laundry and find a meditation pillow and make hand knotted-silk strung beads and a tassel for meditation……See how the wanting and the doing are always dancing?

I need to……….

  • JUST meditate

    • I don’t need a clean room to do it
    • I don’t need my laundry clean to do it
    • I don’t need a special pillow to do it
    • I don’t need specially strung beads to do it (yet, I want them because it means shopping and creating)

The only thing I need to do is make time. Or in my case take time.  And take comfort in the hope that the needful will allow for the mental space for doing the wanting.

Good Bye, Mr. Williams

I wanted to express my deep sadness at the passing of Robin Williams.  It saddens me that a man who brought so much joy and happiness to so many people was suffering so deeply inside.  I know the angels in heaven are falling off their clouds with laughter, but it doesn’t soften the tears on earth.  You will be missed.

The End is Nigh….or not.

The diaphanous veil between the living and the dead is getting thinner.  I can feel my father closer, my brother.  They are waiting.  I can’t really say this to my family because we’ve been saying “Mom won’t make the next XYZ” for the last 24 years. It’s gotten to the point where we won’t believe it until we see it.  And who knows how long a person can.

I want her to have a good end of life, but I don’t know how to bring that about.  She has a DNR, C. will make the final judgment if we need to turn off her machines and pacemaker. (there will be mighty discussions between the three of us girls before hand, it’s not just hers alone)  Her cremation is paid for, our plan to have a boat take us out to the Golden Gate Bridge or beyond to allow her to travel the way she never could in mortality.   I guess now it’s just a matter of all the family to make amends with their own soul and forgive grandma/great grandma and let her go being loved.  She wasn’t trying to hurt us, not consciously anyway.  She wanted what was best for us, even if what she wanted was skewed towards what she needed more, but truly is that her fault?  She relied on the way she was raised, and the pain she experienced on our side of the conversation must have been worse as she believes she wasn’t loved or wanted.  Mom wanted us, she loved us to the best of her ability and with the few tools she was given, and isn’t that all what we can do?  Holding someone to a standard you hold yourself to is just as unfair, lacking compassion and sincerely extremely selfish to the point of narcissism.  True narcissism isn’t something you choose, it’s not like fat where you can go on a diet and emerge a shadow of what you used to be….Narcissists don’t believe the need help or to change, the rest of the world should.  I wish I could take this understanding, acceptance and love and share this enlightenment I’ve been given to my family but I can’t, and even if I can will they have the frame of reference of the months past to understand it with.  Or the desire to truly forgive her and let her go?
The depression and the tentacle like grip the other accessory ailments has robbed me of the ability to feel a lot of feelings.  Well all feelings except anger.  With the containment and proper placement of that merciless flame  the other emotions are coming to the surface and I can say something I never thought I would be able to say.  I love my mother.  I started this journey hating her and silently planning her funeral like a mother plans her daughters wedding.  My biggest fear was that I would hum “Ding Dong The Witch Is Dead” in my pew at her funeral, now I’m not afraid to loose her, or my reaction to it, but mostly that I will be unable to take care of myself without her to remind me to eat, to wake me up when I fall asleep on the couch, to guilt me into cleaning up the house. (I know, I’m a grown up, for heaven sakes, I should be be doing that for myself already).
This feeling of love for my mother and the spiritual lifting I’ve had over the last several weeks makes me wonder if that’s why I am able to feel the veil so close.  The only thing you really take with you is your knowledge and your love.  Love you give is the silken strands that weave your body for the next life and the love you receive is the decoration.  Or so is my belief.
(I’m not saying my Mom is in the throws of dying, she’s not.  I do know her body is starting to give up and betray her in ways she never thought it could.  I’m just saying there are people waiting for her and I can feel their presence.  It could happen today (better not it’s my birthday and her sister already died on my birthday) or it could happen next week/month/year/decade etc.  My nephew J has a saying “At the end of time there will be Dick Clark (rip), Grandma and cockroaches.”  There are days when I look into her eyes and see the steel will to live and I actually start to believe that he isn’t far from wrong.)

The Waiting Is The Hard Part

I have a vacation coming up.  Not really a vacation the way you think of it.  Both of my jobs don’t have any kind of paid time off per se, but even if I don’t get paid for one, not having to have to do it would be a vacation, and that’s what I’m looking at.  Mom is going to go to Baltimore to visit P with my sister C for TEN WHOLE DAYS including two weekends.  The waiting is driving me insane.  Though the Wellbutrin is doing me good, the stress of both jobs in general is sucking the serotonin right off my brain.  I believe it’s referred to as burn out, but I can hold on….I can hold on…..I can hold on….until Thursday of this week.  I go to work, Mom is at home, I come home and Mom is gone.  I can go to bed when I want, I don’t have to watch TV if I don’t want, and I can read, do crafts, play with Sammy, do anything I want for ten whole days.  Even if I do nothing.  

I know it doesn’t sound like much of a difference since I’m still doing 8 hrs a day at a job, but my life has been very hectic (thanks to the Wellbutrin!! Yea):

  • Job
  • Mom
  • Church
  • OA
  • Work out
  • Mom
  • Sammy (who has been seriously neglected in all of this)
  • Writing (mostly poetry about Grace and my Steps…the Steps poetry will be posted here eventually)

(Yes, I know I put Mom twice.  There is the doing with Mom and doing for Mom, two different jobs in my mind)

And then I keep reminding myself of what I need to do:

  • Meditation
  • Planning my meals
  • Cooking for myself
  • More exercise
  • Laundry
  • Cleaning
  • Sammy
  • Writing/Editing my books
  • Journaling

Well, I say I need meditating, I have found a form of meditation.  It’s called 750 Words.  It’s a site where you can just let your consciousness stream out all over the page and be done with it.  Basically clearing all the detritus off the brain from the day and dreams before and just get it out in preparation for the day ahead.  I’ve found it good for dumping anger, for working out personalities in my books, especially when they keep asserting themselves during the day when I’m trying to focus on other things.  I copy and paste blogs and poems into it because I consider that to be part of that kind of writing.  And I work on the concepts behind my blog posts as well.  The cool thing is no one but me can see them.  I can write all sorts of nonsense, I don’t have to spell correctly, I can swear if I’m inclined to without fear of offending…not that I fear offending but I’m trying not to take the simple way out.  It keeps my head from spinning and spinning and spinning and I’m able to focus more on specifics.  It’s a cool idea, a really cool site, and so helpful for me.

It’s still doesn’t abate the anxiety of the wait…..

Putting the Coo-Coo Back In The Clock

So, yea, that’s what I’ve been doing in my long absence.   It came to my attention that the chemical assistance I have relied on was failing me.  Not totally, I was better.  Really better.  I didn’t want to kill myself, or anyone else.  My work situation had improved, I wan no longer banging my head on a brick wall trying to do two different jobs, one with continually shifting rules so nothing was cut and dry.  I was surviving, and I thought surviving was enough to be well.  I couldn’t write, I couldn’t think to do anything beyond work and sleep.  Mostly focusing on sleep…sleeping and eating.  If I could combine the two I would have been in heaven.  I lost my ability to pray beyond “Heavenly Father, please just get me through,”  And He did.  But nothing more.

Finally I broke.  I realized what I needed to do was to get more drugs.  Yes. I know, I am a walking pharmacy with the anti-depression, anti-anxiety, diabetes, high blood pressure, vitamins and workout supplements.  Yes, I said workout supplements.  I’ll get to that in another blog.  I made an appointment to see my psychiatrist because he holds the prescription pad and talked to him about supplementing my already full pill sorter.  He gave me Wellbutrin…the generic form of it anyway.  All I’ve got to say is Dopamine is the fountain of youth for me.  Whoever thought up that drug is a demegod, he/she should win the nobel prize in medicine.   There are some things I’ve needed to adjust because of the side effects….like taking it at 5:00am or earlier every day, even the weekend.  I had to up my fiber intake because though I’m moving, other aspects of my life really isn’t.  But obviously, the side effects are NOTHING compared to the benefits of the drug.  I truly am, right now, a perfect billboard for the axiom:

Better living through pharmacology.

So, is the coo-coo completely back in the clock?  Does it still threaten to escape?  Of course, but at least now I have the energy to chase the little bugger back to where it needs to be.

I did want to point out it has been three years this month that I started this blog. I truly did not want this process to take so long. Looking back now I realize how even if I wanted to “fix me” quickly the very nature of depression makes it difficult to move quickly for anything. Especially if it requires me to get out of bed. I can finally say, though, comfortably, I am out of the void and starting to get traction away from the gravitational forces that keep wanting to hold me down.

Small Victory

I had a goal in March that I wanted to be able to fit in to the opera seats at the War Memorial Opera House in San Francisco. The last several operas required some creative sitting and resigning myself to not getting up during intermission without the Jaws of Life providing assistance. I’m not even going to get into the pain and bruising that goes along with it.

So the past two weekends I sat down and though I didn’t clear the arm rests easily I could position myself without going in at a 45* angle and then with brute force and with all my weight force the other hip into it’s confined space. VICTORY!

True not the victory I had planned, but no one can deny it is still a victory.

Friendly Words of Wisdom

A dear friend and fellow blogger (www.unabridgedgirl.com) Mckenzie has been going through a lot.  Lupus is the darkest and a loving supportive husband as the brightest extremes in her life.  One blog she wrote talked about how a friend of hers that made a rude comment.  In the end she made a list of things to remember in the Hard Moments.  I stole them to remember myself and share:

Here are some things I have learned.

1. When you face a hardship you learn a lot about the true nature of friends, family, and people.

2. Things can always get worse.

3. It is okay to smile, even when you feel like frowning.

4. It is extremely easy to get caught up in one’s own woes and difficulties. Basically, get over yourself. It is easier said than done, but real gratitude for those around you goes a long way.

5. Crying is okay.

6. Laughing is even better.

7. Give yourself permission to be angry.

8. Give yourself permission to forgive.

9. Rest.

10. Let your loved one rest, too.

11. It isn’t all about you.

12. Take a walk.

13. Don’t be afraid to voice your appreciation.

14. Be still.

15. And never, ever give up.

The Evolution of Abstinence

Food abstinence isn’t enough there needs to be more for me.   I realized this after troughing through a Chipotle burrito bowl a few days ago that though it was lunch, and I’m suppose to eat lunch, I wasn’t abstaining. I was shoveling it in my mouth as fast as I could to bury and silence the anger attacking me. Though it was the letter of the law the Spirit of the law was shattered.  However, it was still abstinence because I was eating a meal.

Everyone is supposed to define their abstinence, I have yet to really come to terms with what mine is….and I have yet to have a full week of abstinence.  Perhaps I’m expecting too much of weakling self.  I hear talks of people taking to abstinence right away, like a duck to water but I’ve not been that graced yet.  I tried to go on a diet earlier in the year.  It lasted all of three days and then cookies arrived and….Yum…..  Need I say more.  I realized then the work that it takes to start a diet; planning, cooking, thinking, was too much all at once for me.  My bandwidth for life in general is still quite limited with full-time work, part-time work, family, friends, working out and church.  I needed to start slow.  And slow I go….

My first abstinence was eating three meals a day with healthy snacks if needed.  I’ve never really stuck to eating just three meals a day my whole life.  I’ve started it, and I give it a good try but then I’d oversleep, don’t eat breakfast and eat a huge lunch to make up for it and then huge dinner, snacking all through the day and “tasting” while I cook.  I was fairly successful with that abstinence Monday through Friday, the weekend not as good.  The boon of eating three meals a day meant that I was taking all my medications in a timely fashion as well.  The way I worked the eating aspect of the program (since I’m sponsorless) is I would write down in my OA journal the date and the topic (Meal Plan).  The first paragraph is the Serenity prayer, then my meal plan of what I knew I could get a hold of for the day, then the Young Womans Theme slightly tweaked for the fact that I’m not a Young Woman any more and some of the things I’ve done.  It was a solid 10 to 15 minutes of writing.  Then I lost my hands (Okay, I didn’t lose them.  I know where they are, I just can’t use for that much writing without my thumb and wrist threatening to go on strike)  Writing it down first thing in the morning helped me to keep it in the forefront of my mind.  I use a program called Happy Ritual where every day you can tick off what you’ve done and then track it over the weeks and months.

Second Abstinence was to add exercise.  So, like I do my morning meal plan I would write out what I would do for exercise.  I put that on my Happy Ritual, both what to work out and that I’ve committed to it.  I need to move every day.  I’m good at the committing but not good at the doing.  At least not of late, but you know what we say ONE DAY AT A TIME.

Third Abstinence is to add Emotional abstinence.  Which is where I’m at now.  I can’t eat when I’m angry, I can’t eat when I’m bored, I can’t eat because I’m frustrated or when I want to celebrate.  I need to be mindful, and yes, there are books for that.  I wish I could ingest the book and then have it be so.  Learning and fiber in one fell swoop would be very helpful.  To help with this I’ve started praying again, and yes, I have to put it on my HR because I will forget and I am addicted to check-off things because it makes me feel productive.  I commit my food every morning to Heavenly Father, then when I’ve got a few minutes I type it into my To Do list for the day.  Google Task lets you do sub tasks so I can spell out Breakfast, Lunch, Dinner AM Snack and PM Snack and if I want desert I can put that on as well and as I click them off it gives me a percentage of how much I’ve accomplished for that task.

I will eventually get back to writing it down, I think it writes it on the brain when you sweep the pen across paper leaving an guide map for the day and then sleep sort of erases it, well things like this anyway.  Important things are normally filed before it can be erased.  Kind of like a blog.

I’m curious as to what the next step in my abstinence will be, and when it happens, gentle reader, I will let you know.

Control is an Illusion

I know this. I’m not stupid. Yet to gain the serenity promised in the SERENITY PRAYER I need to exert the kind of control over my life that I’ve never really wanted before. I need to become a machine. I need to make a list, check it twice, and then methodically, mechanistically go through each one with the promise there will be sleep at the end. It doesn’t help that my goal of coming off the anti-depressants isn’t working as well as I’d hope and staying in bed hiding among the varied dreamscapes I find there is all I want to do.

The lack of meds, the lack of control over the type of control I want in my life and the anger that’s welling up in me for having to have to shut down a goodly portion of my emotional life again in favor of sanity is making me want to take back the realization of March 2013: my name is Pamela and I’m a compulsive overeater. Maybe I’m not. (Anyone else catch the compulsively long run-on sentence?)

I am. I know I am. And try as one might you can’t unknown something without a fairly major stroke. It’s just right now it seems like one more thing on my over crowded to-do list.

A Spoonful of Sugar Helps the Anger Stay Down

This weekend was mostly dark and angry but I didn’t let it rule me and I found ways, which in some cases were fairly natural now, of not losing my temper or pecking anyone’s eyes out. But my abstinence took the biggest hit.

Friday I worked a full day, had physical therapy for my wrists and thumbs (really not the brightest idea to type this blog on my cell phone, I know) mother insisted since I promised to do the shopping on Fridays that I needed to do that. I understand her point; she makes out a list based on the sales and spends a food part of her day doing that. My plans fell through for Saturday so I figured I could just stay in….I think you know how my relationship with my mother works. Mother demands and daughter angrily abides. I hate myself for not holding my ground. My reason to her was sound but she wouldn’t hear it.

I came home with food she got out of bed and was just all happy (and feeling so much better physically and willing to eat junk food on her tortured intestinal tract telling me how wonderful I should feel for doing everything I prided to do blah blah I wish I could do everything I set out to do blah blah blah. I tried to explain to her several times how doing that undid all the good physical therapy did and she thought that was a good thing. I had to explain to her again and again. And it just occurred to me I’m not really helping myself to recount the angery exchange when my goal was to illuminate the darkness I’d experienced over the weekend. So that was the ignition. And though it wasn’t a raging flame it was an intense long burn kind of fire and lasted all weekend. Well until S’mores.

I have become acutely aware of how sugar effects mood. This is the second time I’ve become blindingly aware of this effect from sugar. I love it. But no matter how much the wife loves her abusive husband she needs to leave for her own preservation.

I don’t want sugar to be on my abstinence program. I want to be able to eat birthday cake on my birthday or pecan pie at Thanksgiving. I don’t want…I don’t want to be a slave to it for emotional balance either. That’s what the Lexapro, Buspar, and yes, even Xanax are for. I don’t know what to do because I really don’t want to give up anything yet, some days I don’t believe I’ve been blessed with the level of desperation needed to take that first step out of the epicurean forest and then when I have clarity on some days I don’t think it’s bad enough to jump on the abstinence wagon and hold on for dear life either. Even though that’s exactly what I am suppose to be doing.