I believe that my spouse has always been supportive yet it took many years to teach him how to show this. We’ve been married for nearly four years now and together for almost ten. I cannot imagine life without him but it took a long time for him to come to an understanding about how to show that’s he’s supportive of me and understanding of my illness.
I was just diagnosed last Spring. For years my husband has shown his love towards others by playfully poking fun at them in various ways. This has always been a dynamic of our relationship and although it sometimes hurt me, he didn’t quite get it or comprehend in any sense why it would affect me differently than it did the rest of his family. There were times I would cry and scream out for him to understand why it was that what he said made a difference in the way I thought about myself. That stinkin’ thinkin’ that bipolar people are so good at, always thinking the worst is going to happen, was made that much real when he would say the things he did. When I would tell him to stop saying or doing what he did to show his love he would assume I was joking. I wasn’t.
Not long before we were married I was diagnosed with depression, which was incorrect. It wasn’t until my diagnosis with bipolar that everything began to change. I completely broke down due to overwhelming amounts of stress in my life and was placed under a suicide watch with partial-hospitalization for three months following. During that stay I received my bi-polar type 1 diagnosis.
During my partial-hospitalization my therapist requested a meeting with my husband to discuss said diagnosis. She explained what was going on and what I needed from him. He said that he understood but just as it took me three months to learn to manage my symptoms it took him several months to show his support and compassion. I would come home and tell him what I learned about myself and when he would say certain things which triggered my stinkin’ thinkin’ I would remind him that this kind of behavior was not beneficial to me.
After a while of my attempt to teach him he needed to change, I broke down in tears! I asked him why couldn’t he show that he was compassionate and supportive of what I was going through and his answer changed my view of our relationship. He stated that he was supportive, and that he just didn’t know how to show this. I told him that I needed a hug when I cried, I needed him not to say negative things around me or about me as I would take it to heart and stress over such statements, that when I told him to stop doing or saying something he needed to stop joking around. I had to teach him what it means to me for him to be supportive or at least show that he was and always has been. Since that final breakdown approximately eight months ago things have never been better than they are right now. If my husband ever steps back into his old habits all I have to do is remind him, once and that’s it. When I come home crying because I’m overwhelmed with stress he’ll hold me. Later he’ll do what he can to alleviate some of that stress.
I hope that your spouse can be as supportive as my husband always has been and now has learned to show.
Monday, May 2, 2011
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Need to Remember the Important Things
This past week I've done something I shouldn't. I've forgotten to take my medicine three times. Once I took it late. Now this wouldn't be so bad if it was a supplement or something that wasn't necessary. Not only does my medication control my bipolar and help me function as "normal" people would in our society but it eliminates my migraines which I've had since the age of four.
Lets start by saying that although my parents brought me to the doctor several times as a child for migraines no doctor ever took me seriously. I didn't use the term migraine until I knew the definition, which wasn't until I was either eight or nine years old. I just knew that it was the worst pain in the world and lights were my enemies.
Now as many of you know, now that I've been diagnosed with bipolar I realize that I've always had it. The symptoms have always been there. So when I was put on medication for this illness I didn't think about it's possible connection to my medication. It wasn't until this past year when I had to live without medical insurance for a while and pay out of pocket for my medication did I piece together this puzzle.
When I wasn't medicated I would have at least 2-3 migraines a week and several headaches. When I was able to afford my medication the migraines would disappear. I later did some further research only to find that my mood stabilizer, Limictal is used as a migraine medication overseas. It prevents migraines! I also came to find that there is a large correlation between those who have bipolar and those who suffer from migraines. All my medical symptoms since I was quite young have been tied together with one diagnosis. What a relief! Too bad I was always going to the wrong kind of doctor.
Thus it's no surprise that yesterday I had my first migraine since December. It's my fault. I need to be sure to remember. It's important! Not only a mood stabilizer but it saves me a lot of pain that I could do without, thank you. Better luck next week.
Lets start by saying that although my parents brought me to the doctor several times as a child for migraines no doctor ever took me seriously. I didn't use the term migraine until I knew the definition, which wasn't until I was either eight or nine years old. I just knew that it was the worst pain in the world and lights were my enemies.
Now as many of you know, now that I've been diagnosed with bipolar I realize that I've always had it. The symptoms have always been there. So when I was put on medication for this illness I didn't think about it's possible connection to my medication. It wasn't until this past year when I had to live without medical insurance for a while and pay out of pocket for my medication did I piece together this puzzle.
When I wasn't medicated I would have at least 2-3 migraines a week and several headaches. When I was able to afford my medication the migraines would disappear. I later did some further research only to find that my mood stabilizer, Limictal is used as a migraine medication overseas. It prevents migraines! I also came to find that there is a large correlation between those who have bipolar and those who suffer from migraines. All my medical symptoms since I was quite young have been tied together with one diagnosis. What a relief! Too bad I was always going to the wrong kind of doctor.
Thus it's no surprise that yesterday I had my first migraine since December. It's my fault. I need to be sure to remember. It's important! Not only a mood stabilizer but it saves me a lot of pain that I could do without, thank you. Better luck next week.
Friday, April 29, 2011
Wish it was easy...
I wish so many things about the bipolar disorder most of all that it was easy. I wish that I could say that I've always known that I have had the bipolar disorder. I wish I could say that there's a simple test for it and that it was a simple thing to discover. So many wishes, yet as with many real life situations my wishes do not come true.
I was first diagnosed with depression in college. I had known something was very wrong for a long time but my father, who also had bipolar type 1 couldn't comprehend that someone else in the family could be suffering from a mental illness as well. I knew the diagnosis was wrong, not at first but eventually. The antidepressants made me so content with everything. You could have told me that my house had burned down and we would have to sleep outside on the grass and I would have been perfectly okay with that.
I never thought that a day would come when I would feel at peace, no longer suffering. Since I can remember I've always been a very wound up individual and what I mean by this is that I always seemed to hold an incredible amount of stress and anxiety within me. To think I could be any different didn't seem possible. To me this life was normal. It was all I ever knew. Now that I have been diagnosed I look back at my life and I'm certain that I've always had the bipolar disorder.
Everyone else, especially those in the medical field seem to sense that I had bipolar. After I was diagnosed however was when they all decided to tell me. I asked, “Why didn't you tell me?” I sometimes wish that they had let me in on the secret. The question is, would I have believed them? Maybe not, I don't know.
There isn't a blood test or a brain scan that can tell you if you have the bipolar disorder. I wish it was that simple, that easy. So many people are misdiagnosed with other kinds of mental illnesses before getting the proper bipolar illness diagnosis. Perhaps if there was a test misdiagnoses wouldn't occur. I was diagnosed by the third, fourth and fifth psychologists I saw. This illness is not easy, but when you finally receive the diagnosis everything becomes more clear. My last and most recent psychologist adjusted my medication a ton when I first came to see her and now I'm what I can only consider “normal”. I've never felt this way before. I wish all who suffer from this illness can one day feel the peace and serenity that I now feel. Not overly or under medicated and with the tools I need to succeed.
It may not be easy. It may not be a simple test but once you know, life does become as easy as it's ever going to be for those with this illness.
Friday, March 11, 2011
Understanding of the Illness
My father was bipolar and passed away before I received my diagnosis and I wish I had gotten to know him better. He walked miles in the shoes that would one day be passed to me. I didn't want them! I would love to return them! But now that I have them I want to run with them!
I know now that he felt the same way I do about many of life's obstacles but it's sometimes difficult to express yourself in a manner which other people can understand. Having good questions to ask is always a fantastic place to start. Here are a few that I came up with which may help you get to know your bipolar friend a little better. I'm sure they'd love to have someone understand them on a deeper level who doesn't suffer from the illness.
- How would you describe a typical depressive or manic day? What kinds of “symptoms” do you associate with each?
- Which side of the illness do you prefer, the manic or the depressive and why?
- Of course there are times you wish that you didn't have this illness but are there any times that you're glad that you have bipolar?
- What's the most difficult thing about the bipolar illness for you?
- Since finding out you have bipolar are there any people in your life who have treated you differently due the stigma that is associated with the illness?
- What are some personal traits that a person with bipolar experiences yet are not usually attributed to the illness?
- Has the diagnosis changed your perception of self?
Walking a mile in my shoes is never something I'd wish on anyone but I do wish that people would understand that I'm not crazy I just have to manage the symptoms of life a little differently than other people.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Can Anyone Still See Me For Me?
I had this theory when I was first diagnosed last year with Bipolar that everyone would treat me differently and I would be an outcast. That of course was the long held stigma which plagues mental illness talking, or was it? A few months after I was diagnosed I decided that I was going to defy the stigma! I was going to live an open life. Who ever truly knew me would not judge me for some new information they had just gathered. They would judge me for the life I had lived and the personality I had shown all my life. They would love me for me.
Unfortunately I have come to find that in this world stigma can be a very difficult thing to over turn. Some of us literally go out in our Bipolar or Depression t-shirts thinking that walking in the open, unashamed will change the perception of others. We think that if we believe enough and try our best to live as though there is no stigma it will all go away. People will be educated and not judge us for our illness but who we are as individuals. I'm coming to doubt this a bit.
I try my best to always be optimistic but it is well known that however optimistic I appear to be, deep down I'm a cynical person. Most who have this illness do not tell those they work with for fear their coworkers will see them in a different light and begin to treat them as it they are fragile and at any moment could break into a million shards of glass.
Once, I made the mistake of letting my coworkers know and my boss actually questioned if it was safe for me to be around children. How offensive can one person become to another? Can my actions not speak for themselves? Anyone who has had any interaction with me at all knows that I'm wonderful with children. I was born to care for children; they never stress me out. To assume that all those with bipolar are a danger to children is stereotypical. That was the first thing that opened my eyes to truly how deep seeded this stigma is rooted.
Currently I work with someone who is a friend of my husband's. Somehow he found out of my illness and suddenly my boss doesn't think I'm able to be alone in the store. They assume that due to my illness I cannot handle any stressful situation on my own. Typically it's when I'm on my own that I'm not stressed out. It's my day to day dealings with people which stress me out, especially those who question my abilities, something which until I was diagnosed never happened!
I used to manage stores, direct operations, supervise departments. Now suddenly I find myself at the bottom of the corporate ladder with a big brick wall and no way to get around or over it, at least not in the foreseeable future. Due to my illness somehow I'm less capable medicated than I was unmedicated and untreated. It makes absolutely no sense! How can someone who is unmedicated and untreated be more capable than someone who sees a doctor regularly and is well medicated? It's illogical!
I'm considering this summer going back to school to become a graphic designer. Perhaps in a field where you can be your own boss or at least work from home I will not be treated in such a manner. I'll be attending school and working full time, which is something I've done before, unmedicated and untreated so surely I can do it again now!!
Someday there will be a world without a stigma for mental illness, but I cannot see it! Why am I not treated as I was before the illness was made public?
**I thank my husband, grandmother and few close friends who still see me for what I am, simply Jen.**
Unfortunately I have come to find that in this world stigma can be a very difficult thing to over turn. Some of us literally go out in our Bipolar or Depression t-shirts thinking that walking in the open, unashamed will change the perception of others. We think that if we believe enough and try our best to live as though there is no stigma it will all go away. People will be educated and not judge us for our illness but who we are as individuals. I'm coming to doubt this a bit.
I try my best to always be optimistic but it is well known that however optimistic I appear to be, deep down I'm a cynical person. Most who have this illness do not tell those they work with for fear their coworkers will see them in a different light and begin to treat them as it they are fragile and at any moment could break into a million shards of glass.
Once, I made the mistake of letting my coworkers know and my boss actually questioned if it was safe for me to be around children. How offensive can one person become to another? Can my actions not speak for themselves? Anyone who has had any interaction with me at all knows that I'm wonderful with children. I was born to care for children; they never stress me out. To assume that all those with bipolar are a danger to children is stereotypical. That was the first thing that opened my eyes to truly how deep seeded this stigma is rooted.
Currently I work with someone who is a friend of my husband's. Somehow he found out of my illness and suddenly my boss doesn't think I'm able to be alone in the store. They assume that due to my illness I cannot handle any stressful situation on my own. Typically it's when I'm on my own that I'm not stressed out. It's my day to day dealings with people which stress me out, especially those who question my abilities, something which until I was diagnosed never happened!
I used to manage stores, direct operations, supervise departments. Now suddenly I find myself at the bottom of the corporate ladder with a big brick wall and no way to get around or over it, at least not in the foreseeable future. Due to my illness somehow I'm less capable medicated than I was unmedicated and untreated. It makes absolutely no sense! How can someone who is unmedicated and untreated be more capable than someone who sees a doctor regularly and is well medicated? It's illogical!
I'm considering this summer going back to school to become a graphic designer. Perhaps in a field where you can be your own boss or at least work from home I will not be treated in such a manner. I'll be attending school and working full time, which is something I've done before, unmedicated and untreated so surely I can do it again now!!
Someday there will be a world without a stigma for mental illness, but I cannot see it! Why am I not treated as I was before the illness was made public?
**I thank my husband, grandmother and few close friends who still see me for what I am, simply Jen.**
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Clothes to make me feel pretty again
It is said that the woman makes the clothes yet I've come to believe this may not be true. I remember there was a time when my wardrobe was filled with stylish clothing and accessories. A time when I went to work and I felt like one of the prettiest girls in the room all because of the outfits I wore. I realized yesterday, looking at the girls in the department next to me that I'm not nearly as fashionable and well dressed as they are.
Now most of the girls are younger than me, only one of them is married and she has a kid yet my clothing doesn't hold a candle next to theirs. Granted I'm an adult now and shouldn't worry about they way I appear in relevance to others. I shouldn't care what other people think of the way I dress. Yet, it's not the perception of others that's bothering me it's the perception of myself. I don't feel I look good in the clothes I've been blessed to have.
When I was a child my nicest clothes came from either garage sales my grandmother would take me to or as Christmas gifts from my grandparents or aunts. My parents would take us thrift store shopping or give us hand me downs from my mom and my aunts when we needed clothes. Until I started running competitively my shoes were the five dollar kind you bought at Walmart, usually all white. After I began running my parents would buy a twenty dollar pair and get upset when they lasted me a month before falling apart. Once I began working outside the home I started buying my own running shoes usually from a department store. My parents, after much reluctance and arguing bought one pair for me after my feet continued to blister and bleed due to the old pair I was wearing. At that time I couldn't afford to replace them myself and my parents would have returned the pair my mom purchased if it were not for my grandparents offering to foot the bill and my father being too proud. That season until a new pair were bought my feet were mended each night as they were always cut up so badly.
I'm aware we were quite poor, but this stuck with me in a very real way. The connection between good clothes and my self worth. When I was in elementary school I was constantly picked on as most of my clothes were from two decades ago! Kids are not very nice in elementary school! Often I'd come home in tears because of the constant torment I felt at school. I begged my parents to send me somewhere else. At the age of nine I began receiving a steady paycheck and saved most of my money, soon having enough for a year at a private school in the area. I never went to that school though, and my money was used towards, food, bus passes, and clothes for myself and my sisters.
In junior high I had moved to a different neighborhood which was a nice fresh start. Upon starting school I met Corin and Isa who taught me how to dress, put on makeup and do my hair. My mother never learned such things and thus was not able to teach me, her oldest daughter. I'm very grateful as this was a turning point for me in my school years. I began finding more "in-style" clothes at the second hand stores and my popularity began to rise. At one point I was so good at finding the "in-style" clothes my sisters would have me go shopping with them every time we went down the street to the Salvation Army Store and did some shopping.
The best portion of my schooling in relation to clothing was High School. At this time it became very popular for people to dress in "vintage" items they found at thrift stores. I absolutely adored this stage as I could find several things inside my budget which would not make me a cast out as it had when I was much younger. High School was also when I began my first full time job at the age of sixteen. I worked at a restaurant which was across the street from my bank and in the same block as one of our towns two malls. Oh what a teenage dream. I could get paid, cash my check, and go clothing shopping before getting home to help pay many of the family's bills. Lets just say I didn't save much of my money during that time.
Fast forward a bit. After I moved out of my parents home in college and thus not helping with the families finances I seemed to have more money. Strange, considering I was now paying rent and my own bills, but true. For the next six years my closet grew enormously. It didn't help that for a while I worked as a supervisor at a clothing store.
Once I married I stopped buying many clothes. I had other responsibilities and other bills which needed attention. This was fine until spring of 2010 as I was the same size in clothes for the majority of the past nine years. This past spring was my first admission to the hospital and when I received the diagnosis of Bipolar I, Anxiety Disorder and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I remained in hospital treatment, not able to work for three months. During this time my workouts decreased to a near stop and I was given plenty of money though insurance to eat at the hospital's cafeteria. So with the decrease in activity and increase in consumption of course I changed sizes.
After the hospital stay I went on a diet for the first time in my life. I dieted for months and lost only one or two pounds, but no sizes. Winter was approaching and I realized I didn't have any sweaters, slacks for work or long sleeve tops that fit. Ugh! So for my birthday I asked for gift cards to Target which would help me buy a few essentials. It helped a great deal. I went from no clothes to a few.
Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful for what I have, yet my self-confidence is greatly related to the clothes I wear. When I feel stylish, I feel pretty, then I feel confidant in every step I take. Yes, I've never been a tiny model stick of a figure like my youngest sister, Julya. I've always been a little curvy and I like it. Gaining a few extra pounds should not mean that I don't get to buy pretty clothes and look fantastic when I want to dress the part. Yes, I did have a child to care for in the first few years of our marriage and my looks always came second to his looks and needs but that child is back with his own mother now and I need to live for now, not the future.
I also shouldn't assume that I'll be able to get much smaller than I am currently at least not permanently. I've been thinking a great deal about my husband and I starting our own family some day, not immediately so no one get any ideas. It's true I do have baby fever no matter how much I attempt to fight it, the urge is there. We're just not ready.
First of all I need to learn to care for myself before those around me. I've never done that before. When I was growing up I cared for my sisters and often my parents. When I became an adult I cared for my husband and very shortly after we were married a baby boy for two years. Shortly after our foster son when back to live with his mother, I adopted a cat. I've always been the "caregiver" to everyone but myself. I need to teach myself that I'm not selfish if I would like to buy a new sweater which we can afford to look and feel pretty.
So in an attempt to care for myself and get back to the days when I felt as though heads turned when I walked in I went shopping yesterday. I went to Kohl's with the budget of $30.00. I could buy what ever tops or sweaters I loved as long as my total remained under that budget. It worked! I bought a lovely top I'm now wearing for $7 and a beautiful cardigan for only $8, both on clearance. I love the way I look! I love the way I feel! This morning as I dressed I even put my contacts in, did my makeup and hair. I feel pretty again and happy!
Now most of the girls are younger than me, only one of them is married and she has a kid yet my clothing doesn't hold a candle next to theirs. Granted I'm an adult now and shouldn't worry about they way I appear in relevance to others. I shouldn't care what other people think of the way I dress. Yet, it's not the perception of others that's bothering me it's the perception of myself. I don't feel I look good in the clothes I've been blessed to have.
When I was a child my nicest clothes came from either garage sales my grandmother would take me to or as Christmas gifts from my grandparents or aunts. My parents would take us thrift store shopping or give us hand me downs from my mom and my aunts when we needed clothes. Until I started running competitively my shoes were the five dollar kind you bought at Walmart, usually all white. After I began running my parents would buy a twenty dollar pair and get upset when they lasted me a month before falling apart. Once I began working outside the home I started buying my own running shoes usually from a department store. My parents, after much reluctance and arguing bought one pair for me after my feet continued to blister and bleed due to the old pair I was wearing. At that time I couldn't afford to replace them myself and my parents would have returned the pair my mom purchased if it were not for my grandparents offering to foot the bill and my father being too proud. That season until a new pair were bought my feet were mended each night as they were always cut up so badly.
I'm aware we were quite poor, but this stuck with me in a very real way. The connection between good clothes and my self worth. When I was in elementary school I was constantly picked on as most of my clothes were from two decades ago! Kids are not very nice in elementary school! Often I'd come home in tears because of the constant torment I felt at school. I begged my parents to send me somewhere else. At the age of nine I began receiving a steady paycheck and saved most of my money, soon having enough for a year at a private school in the area. I never went to that school though, and my money was used towards, food, bus passes, and clothes for myself and my sisters.
In junior high I had moved to a different neighborhood which was a nice fresh start. Upon starting school I met Corin and Isa who taught me how to dress, put on makeup and do my hair. My mother never learned such things and thus was not able to teach me, her oldest daughter. I'm very grateful as this was a turning point for me in my school years. I began finding more "in-style" clothes at the second hand stores and my popularity began to rise. At one point I was so good at finding the "in-style" clothes my sisters would have me go shopping with them every time we went down the street to the Salvation Army Store and did some shopping.
The best portion of my schooling in relation to clothing was High School. At this time it became very popular for people to dress in "vintage" items they found at thrift stores. I absolutely adored this stage as I could find several things inside my budget which would not make me a cast out as it had when I was much younger. High School was also when I began my first full time job at the age of sixteen. I worked at a restaurant which was across the street from my bank and in the same block as one of our towns two malls. Oh what a teenage dream. I could get paid, cash my check, and go clothing shopping before getting home to help pay many of the family's bills. Lets just say I didn't save much of my money during that time.
Fast forward a bit. After I moved out of my parents home in college and thus not helping with the families finances I seemed to have more money. Strange, considering I was now paying rent and my own bills, but true. For the next six years my closet grew enormously. It didn't help that for a while I worked as a supervisor at a clothing store.
Once I married I stopped buying many clothes. I had other responsibilities and other bills which needed attention. This was fine until spring of 2010 as I was the same size in clothes for the majority of the past nine years. This past spring was my first admission to the hospital and when I received the diagnosis of Bipolar I, Anxiety Disorder and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I remained in hospital treatment, not able to work for three months. During this time my workouts decreased to a near stop and I was given plenty of money though insurance to eat at the hospital's cafeteria. So with the decrease in activity and increase in consumption of course I changed sizes.
After the hospital stay I went on a diet for the first time in my life. I dieted for months and lost only one or two pounds, but no sizes. Winter was approaching and I realized I didn't have any sweaters, slacks for work or long sleeve tops that fit. Ugh! So for my birthday I asked for gift cards to Target which would help me buy a few essentials. It helped a great deal. I went from no clothes to a few.
Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful for what I have, yet my self-confidence is greatly related to the clothes I wear. When I feel stylish, I feel pretty, then I feel confidant in every step I take. Yes, I've never been a tiny model stick of a figure like my youngest sister, Julya. I've always been a little curvy and I like it. Gaining a few extra pounds should not mean that I don't get to buy pretty clothes and look fantastic when I want to dress the part. Yes, I did have a child to care for in the first few years of our marriage and my looks always came second to his looks and needs but that child is back with his own mother now and I need to live for now, not the future.
I also shouldn't assume that I'll be able to get much smaller than I am currently at least not permanently. I've been thinking a great deal about my husband and I starting our own family some day, not immediately so no one get any ideas. It's true I do have baby fever no matter how much I attempt to fight it, the urge is there. We're just not ready.
First of all I need to learn to care for myself before those around me. I've never done that before. When I was growing up I cared for my sisters and often my parents. When I became an adult I cared for my husband and very shortly after we were married a baby boy for two years. Shortly after our foster son when back to live with his mother, I adopted a cat. I've always been the "caregiver" to everyone but myself. I need to teach myself that I'm not selfish if I would like to buy a new sweater which we can afford to look and feel pretty.
So in an attempt to care for myself and get back to the days when I felt as though heads turned when I walked in I went shopping yesterday. I went to Kohl's with the budget of $30.00. I could buy what ever tops or sweaters I loved as long as my total remained under that budget. It worked! I bought a lovely top I'm now wearing for $7 and a beautiful cardigan for only $8, both on clearance. I love the way I look! I love the way I feel! This morning as I dressed I even put my contacts in, did my makeup and hair. I feel pretty again and happy!
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Janome DC2010
So I found a modern sewing machine I actually LOVE! It's called the Janome DC2010. I went to OK Sewing in Omaha the other day as I wanted an opinion on the various Janome's I had been looking at online and was really intersted in getting a basic overview of any modern sewing machine.
When I was six years old my grandmother, Edna, taught me how to sew on a Singer 301a. It's the primary sewing machine I've used for twenty years. It's a solid machine, well built and I really wanted one. It's the only sewing machine I've had my eyes on for years now.
My mother-in-law, Sue, owned her own quilt shop for years and has been a professional seamstress for most of her professional life. Having been brought up around fancy machines, sewing, embroidery, and sergers my husband, Jason, had his own opinions on what kind of machine I should have. He didn't want to spend our money on the Singer 301a. Until recently I didn't understand why. He just kept telling me that I should get a newer machine and simply learn to use it, then I would come to love something other than my beloved Singer 301a. Jason spoke with his mother about this topic and her favorite brand of machines are Janome's so I began my research.With her extensive experience there had to be a reason?
When I came into the store I informed the clerk of my beloved Singer 301a that did not meet the approval of my husband or mother-in-law. I also let her know that I was interested in finding a very basic Janome if I was to get a sewing machine other than the Singer which I so loved. This woman was well informed about not only the Janome's in stock but also the Singer 301a located in a display with all the other antique sewing machines, most made of black cast-iron. The direct comparison of the Singer 301a with the newer, much fancier Janome DC2010 was the selling point for me. She knew the features of what I had been using for so many years, how the machine operated and the differences between that machine and the Janome DC2010. I was not only impressed with the newer machine but understood how I could benefit from this over the Singer 301a.
The Janome DC2010 has fifty stitches, some similar to embroidery stitches and also had both serger and applique stitching functions. The needle threaded itself. The bobbin was incredibly easy to place in the machine! The button hole function is a piece of cake! This machine will spoil me. I absolutely adore it! The few things I may have questions about when I'm able to purchase it can all be answered in a one on one class purposed to teach me how to use my new sewing machine. Now we only need to save up the four hundred dollars for my purchase and be done with it! I'm so happy I could burst. :-)
When I was six years old my grandmother, Edna, taught me how to sew on a Singer 301a. It's the primary sewing machine I've used for twenty years. It's a solid machine, well built and I really wanted one. It's the only sewing machine I've had my eyes on for years now.
My mother-in-law, Sue, owned her own quilt shop for years and has been a professional seamstress for most of her professional life. Having been brought up around fancy machines, sewing, embroidery, and sergers my husband, Jason, had his own opinions on what kind of machine I should have. He didn't want to spend our money on the Singer 301a. Until recently I didn't understand why. He just kept telling me that I should get a newer machine and simply learn to use it, then I would come to love something other than my beloved Singer 301a. Jason spoke with his mother about this topic and her favorite brand of machines are Janome's so I began my research.With her extensive experience there had to be a reason?
When I came into the store I informed the clerk of my beloved Singer 301a that did not meet the approval of my husband or mother-in-law. I also let her know that I was interested in finding a very basic Janome if I was to get a sewing machine other than the Singer which I so loved. This woman was well informed about not only the Janome's in stock but also the Singer 301a located in a display with all the other antique sewing machines, most made of black cast-iron. The direct comparison of the Singer 301a with the newer, much fancier Janome DC2010 was the selling point for me. She knew the features of what I had been using for so many years, how the machine operated and the differences between that machine and the Janome DC2010. I was not only impressed with the newer machine but understood how I could benefit from this over the Singer 301a.
The Janome DC2010 has fifty stitches, some similar to embroidery stitches and also had both serger and applique stitching functions. The needle threaded itself. The bobbin was incredibly easy to place in the machine! The button hole function is a piece of cake! This machine will spoil me. I absolutely adore it! The few things I may have questions about when I'm able to purchase it can all be answered in a one on one class purposed to teach me how to use my new sewing machine. Now we only need to save up the four hundred dollars for my purchase and be done with it! I'm so happy I could burst. :-)
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Merry Christmas!
Christmas can be a very difficult time for many who have Bipolar to get though, although for me most of the time it can remain stress free. One thing that most people who know me need to realize is that if you want a specific item for Christmas, ask for it at the beginning of that year, say January or February. I've become quite the planner to cope with unnecessary stress in my life. So to keep the Christmas season from freaking me out due to business or financial issues I shop year round.
As a matter of fact I already have three of the gifts for my niece Zyanah ready for next year's Christmas. I've found over the years that if I do my Christmas shopping well in advance, usually finishing by Thanksgiving when most people are beginning I have very little stress surrounding Christmas.
Unfortunately this year I did have five or six gifts that either changed or needed to be done after Thanksgiving. I found with that and the idea I would make all the Christmas cards with materials I already own I added some unexpected stress to my holiday. Not good. Hopefully next year will be different.
I was still able to manage my stress but it was difficult at times because I don't like to get so busy. I become overwhelmed and apparently even if I'm not stressed I appear to be, so when I am it looks as though the whole world is going to come crashing down upon me.
It did help that I refilled my last prescription which I was saving for an emergency as most of the year I have not had the blessing of medical insurance thus I pay 40x the amount I usually do for my mood stabilizers. After the first refill in three months I feel so much better! No more migraines for one! I was getting them at least 3-4 times a week...sometimes less but only then the migraine would last for several days. I did some research and found that there is a direct link between my prescription Limictal and the relief of chronic migraines although it has not been approved for that treatment in the United States. Currently it's only approved for Bipolar 1 and Epilepsy.
In conclusion while I try to not let the Christmas season stress me out, sometimes it will and I have to deal with it. We all have to try and manage this stress to the best of our abilities and maybe up the positive self talk more than usual. We are never fully in control and sometimes we just need to say: Enough! It's not a big deal if I don't bake during this season or wrap all the presents super pretty or even send Christmas cards when I'm not feeling well. Cut yourself a break, step back and just look at the children around you. They can be so happy with so little and we can as well. Simplify and live a little less stressfully.
Merry Christmas Everyone!!
As a matter of fact I already have three of the gifts for my niece Zyanah ready for next year's Christmas. I've found over the years that if I do my Christmas shopping well in advance, usually finishing by Thanksgiving when most people are beginning I have very little stress surrounding Christmas.
Unfortunately this year I did have five or six gifts that either changed or needed to be done after Thanksgiving. I found with that and the idea I would make all the Christmas cards with materials I already own I added some unexpected stress to my holiday. Not good. Hopefully next year will be different.
I was still able to manage my stress but it was difficult at times because I don't like to get so busy. I become overwhelmed and apparently even if I'm not stressed I appear to be, so when I am it looks as though the whole world is going to come crashing down upon me.
It did help that I refilled my last prescription which I was saving for an emergency as most of the year I have not had the blessing of medical insurance thus I pay 40x the amount I usually do for my mood stabilizers. After the first refill in three months I feel so much better! No more migraines for one! I was getting them at least 3-4 times a week...sometimes less but only then the migraine would last for several days. I did some research and found that there is a direct link between my prescription Limictal and the relief of chronic migraines although it has not been approved for that treatment in the United States. Currently it's only approved for Bipolar 1 and Epilepsy.
In conclusion while I try to not let the Christmas season stress me out, sometimes it will and I have to deal with it. We all have to try and manage this stress to the best of our abilities and maybe up the positive self talk more than usual. We are never fully in control and sometimes we just need to say: Enough! It's not a big deal if I don't bake during this season or wrap all the presents super pretty or even send Christmas cards when I'm not feeling well. Cut yourself a break, step back and just look at the children around you. They can be so happy with so little and we can as well. Simplify and live a little less stressfully.
Merry Christmas Everyone!!
Saturday, December 4, 2010
Do I ever wish that I didn't have Bipolar?
I have a Yes and No response to this.
Yes because...
I could live without the fear of "passing" this along to my children or relying on my husband so much for support and the fear that I'm a burden to him due to my Bipolar. I also don't like the fact that I need medication in order to appear normal. After being diagnosed friends and family in the medical profession have confessed they either knew something wasn't quite right or had guessed I suffered untreated from Bipolar. It's not something you just tell a person, however so they never said anything to me.
Mostly the severe ups and downs could be wonderful to live without. During the depressed side of Bipolar I'm most fearful of myself as it's the most detrimental to my life. I'm both suicidal and unstable and the possibility of loosing my job is high due to severe irritability and the feeling of a need to stay home and never leave my bed. On the manic side, I have a lot of debt and no license due to my actions in a manic state.
No because...
I love manic states when I don't end up doing anything really stupid. I get so much done. I have no need to sleep which was wonderful in college for obvious reasons. When I cared for my nephews during a manic state it was easy to take care of three boys under the age of three because I felt I could run after them forever. Overall I adore my productivity in a manic state. I'm like the energizer bunny!!
I've come to understand my father and his struggles. He passed away a few years ago, after I sought help but before I was properly diagnosed. Ironically I was given the same diagnosis he had, Bipolar Type 1, Anxiety Disorder and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Thinking back I don't excuse his behavior because he never continued treatment, which he could control however I now understand, which allows me to forgive him for such behavior. In a sense I'm happy to know exactly why he had the thoughts and the actions he did. There is nothing logical about why we have the thoughts we do however it's now understandable.
Yes because...
I could live without the fear of "passing" this along to my children or relying on my husband so much for support and the fear that I'm a burden to him due to my Bipolar. I also don't like the fact that I need medication in order to appear normal. After being diagnosed friends and family in the medical profession have confessed they either knew something wasn't quite right or had guessed I suffered untreated from Bipolar. It's not something you just tell a person, however so they never said anything to me.
Mostly the severe ups and downs could be wonderful to live without. During the depressed side of Bipolar I'm most fearful of myself as it's the most detrimental to my life. I'm both suicidal and unstable and the possibility of loosing my job is high due to severe irritability and the feeling of a need to stay home and never leave my bed. On the manic side, I have a lot of debt and no license due to my actions in a manic state.
No because...
I love manic states when I don't end up doing anything really stupid. I get so much done. I have no need to sleep which was wonderful in college for obvious reasons. When I cared for my nephews during a manic state it was easy to take care of three boys under the age of three because I felt I could run after them forever. Overall I adore my productivity in a manic state. I'm like the energizer bunny!!
I've come to understand my father and his struggles. He passed away a few years ago, after I sought help but before I was properly diagnosed. Ironically I was given the same diagnosis he had, Bipolar Type 1, Anxiety Disorder and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Thinking back I don't excuse his behavior because he never continued treatment, which he could control however I now understand, which allows me to forgive him for such behavior. In a sense I'm happy to know exactly why he had the thoughts and the actions he did. There is nothing logical about why we have the thoughts we do however it's now understandable.
Monday, November 15, 2010
Voice of an Angel that Calms
"TRUE THINGS" - Lyrics
I’m not a photograph
I’m not the car I drive
I’m not the money I make
I’m not the things I lack
I’m not the songs that I write
I am … who I am
I am who I am
There are true things inside of me
I have been afraid to see
I believe, help my unbelief
Would you say again what you said to me
I am loved and I am free
I believe, help my unbelief
I’m not the house I live in
I’m not the man I love
I’m not the mistakes that I carry
I’m not the food that I don’t eat
I’m not what I’m above
I’m not my scars and my history
There are true things inside of me
I have been afraid to see
I believe, help my unbelief
Would you say again what you said to me
I am loved and I am free
I believe, help my unbelief
To your love I’m waking up
In your love I’m waking up
JJ Heller is a woman with an angelic voice. I discovered her music earlier this year as I was going though some difficulties. My grandmother was quite ill and no one really believed she'd live though her open heart surgery. I spent every waking hour I could with her in the hospital, although she remembers very little. Soon after, I had my break down and ended up in the hospital myself. The songs of JJ Heller from her cd, Painted Red helped me get through those difficult moments.
Her lyrics ring true to me and can keep me from going to dark places. On my cell phone I had downloaded the only song I knew of at the time, Your Hands. Each time therapy became too much for me I would go to the woman's restroom, play and sing along to that song. Sometimes I'd even sing it over and over again on my lunch break. It would always calm me, allowing me the strength I needed to return and finish what must be done.
In my opinion if someone ever tells you therapy is easy, they must not be doing it correctly. It was by far one of the best things I've ever done and most necessary, yet it was on most days the most trying thing I've ever gone though. JJ Heller is an artist I respect on a very basic level. She helped me in a way no one else could. Above I've listed one of my favorite songs, True Things.
Below are some links to other videos of JJ Hellers music on You Tube.
Enjoy!!
Your Hands
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TsNv9N3a14U
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TsNv9N3a14U
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PgGUKWiw7Wk
This one just made me smile
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oHpUVb6BjGo
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Save a Child or Teen from Themselves
This blog combines two of the things I'm most passionate about, the protection of children and mental illness. Each year nearly 7% of all children suffer from mental illness yet few of them ever receive the help they need. Below is a link that will take you to vote for funding that Pepsi can donate to the Child and Adolescent Bipolar Foundation (CABF) to fund a campaign that will help both children and their families that suffer from mental illness.
Although I was recently diagnosed with mental illness, I've had it for quite some time yet no one noticed and as a child and teen I didn't know how to reach out to the right people and get help myself. I attempted, thankfully unsuccessful, suicide several times as a teenager. If I had been better at killing myself I would just be another statistic of suicide and no one would know why.
or
Although I was recently diagnosed with mental illness, I've had it for quite some time yet no one noticed and as a child and teen I didn't know how to reach out to the right people and get help myself. I attempted, thankfully unsuccessful, suicide several times as a teenager. If I had been better at killing myself I would just be another statistic of suicide and no one would know why.
There are many kids who grow up feeling out of sorts with reality. They know that something is wrong. They want to be like everyone else, yet no matter what they do nothing ever works.
They learn to talk more slowly, not realizing they talk too fast when in a manic state. They isolate themselves, reading the minds of their family thinking no one loves them when they are depressed. They don't think it will ever change because depression and manic states are all they know. They are a bipolar child.
They ask their parents every time they leave the house where they are going and when they will be back. They make sure everything is planned out so that when things do not go according to plan, they can cope more easily. They stay away from messy homes or rooms, sometimes secluding in their own room which is perfectly clean, so much so that if you move anything they will notice. They are the child who suffers from anxiety.
They have a difficult time falling asleep. They have nightmares when sleep finally comes. They get uncomfortable and frigidity when left alone with a man of any age. They refuse to talk to a man of any age while alone. They have panic attacks when trapped in a room with a man of any age. They are the children with PTSD due to trauma suffered.
The signs are different for each person. The examples above are purely mine. Fact is that it happens. Children of the world have mental illnesses and they need help so that they can live. With your vote children may not only live, but live well. They can learn what it's like to not always be "sick". They can enjoy childhood, which I guarantee most children who suffer undiagnosed do no enjoy. They have no childhood. All they have is worry and despair.
Please Help, Please Vote.
Deadline is November 30th, 2010.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Coming Home
As many of you already are aware I'm new to Omaha. I've lived here with my husband and kitty for less than a year. For me this city is overwhelming with stimuli which I don't need especially considering I'm overly sensitive to people, noises, stuff. Too much of anything can cause me to fall into a depressed state as I become overly stressed and overwhelmed. Simply put, I don't care for Omaha very much. I would be much more content in a small town, similar to Valparaiso, NE. There's less than a thousand people who live there. It's the perfect size for me. For my husband though small town life is not home.
Jason grew up on a farm. I grew up in large town or small city, depending on where you're from. My grandparents own a farm and I took solace there trying to visit when ever possible. After my college roommate married I moved on to the farm and lived in the small town for a few years. It was bliss. I loved it! Jason was bored a lot while growing up, yearning to be in the city. I guess there would have to be a point in our lives that what we're comfortable with in terms of living conditions would collide. This time has arrived.
I want to be the supportive wife and be happy here. I want to be content living in a city that is too large to walk from one side to another in an hour. I want to be able to be at peace when I look out my window and see the constant view of hustle and bustle. Hundreds of buildings, homes and vehicles in view. I'm hoping to be happy here, so that Jason can be happy.
Today I went to a new church, yet again, trying to find a church home to which to belong. My anxiety goes though the roof when I attend a new church, especially alone. Jason usually doesn't attend with me, so I'm always alone in my search.
A few years ago I worked in a church and found out how political and corrupt some people within them could be towards each other. This was disheartening. I was naive when I began thinking that people would abide to their faith above all else. I find my self a bit jaded now. This experience scarred me, possibly as much as the childhood abuse I endured. The main person who hurt me while I worked there is someone I struggle with daily to forgive. As you can imagine that experience doesn't make this search any easier. A co-worker invited me to his church a few weeks ago and I attended but I was not comfortable because the church was small and I knew that if it were to become unhealthy the size would make it more susceptible to fall apart and really hurt some of it's members in the process.
The church I attended this morning could be referred to as a mega church. It is quite large which puts some of my anxieties to ease and stirs up others. The stimuli there is sometimes a lot to take but I just try to stay focused on why I'm there and not all the people around me.
Overall I had a good worship experience. The music was rejuvenating. The message spoke to me, especially on a level that really hit home with my past church political experiences. The message was focused in the book of Titus. It was a beautiful message, given by the pastor who created the Children's Ministry Curriculum of which I am very familiar. The Children's Ministry Program at this church is one of the strongest I have ever seen and I would love my own children to be one day raised in this environment.
After service I walked to the "Guest Services" area forcing myself to say hello to the volunteers. This was stressful for me as I'm not a person to be forwardly social right away in a new situation. After doing this and receiving a warm welcome I decided to push myself a little further and visit the Nursery. One goal of mine in finding a new church in Omaha is finding a place where I could bring our children when we have a family. This is especially important knowing how much Jason loves it here. While I look for a home church I try to keep in mind that by finding such a place in which I'm comfortable I may grow to like or even love Omaha. The Nursery seemed nice and as a major plus, the director of the Nursery used cloth diapers on all her children and doesn't mind if I were to be a future parent using cloth.
I think I found my home. A few more weeks will be the test. In a few weeks if I still feel at ease here, as though I'm coming home, it may be my new church home. With a new church in Omaha, perhaps, eventually I can feel at home in this now very uncomfortable city.
Jason grew up on a farm. I grew up in large town or small city, depending on where you're from. My grandparents own a farm and I took solace there trying to visit when ever possible. After my college roommate married I moved on to the farm and lived in the small town for a few years. It was bliss. I loved it! Jason was bored a lot while growing up, yearning to be in the city. I guess there would have to be a point in our lives that what we're comfortable with in terms of living conditions would collide. This time has arrived.
I want to be the supportive wife and be happy here. I want to be content living in a city that is too large to walk from one side to another in an hour. I want to be able to be at peace when I look out my window and see the constant view of hustle and bustle. Hundreds of buildings, homes and vehicles in view. I'm hoping to be happy here, so that Jason can be happy.
Today I went to a new church, yet again, trying to find a church home to which to belong. My anxiety goes though the roof when I attend a new church, especially alone. Jason usually doesn't attend with me, so I'm always alone in my search.
A few years ago I worked in a church and found out how political and corrupt some people within them could be towards each other. This was disheartening. I was naive when I began thinking that people would abide to their faith above all else. I find my self a bit jaded now. This experience scarred me, possibly as much as the childhood abuse I endured. The main person who hurt me while I worked there is someone I struggle with daily to forgive. As you can imagine that experience doesn't make this search any easier. A co-worker invited me to his church a few weeks ago and I attended but I was not comfortable because the church was small and I knew that if it were to become unhealthy the size would make it more susceptible to fall apart and really hurt some of it's members in the process.
The church I attended this morning could be referred to as a mega church. It is quite large which puts some of my anxieties to ease and stirs up others. The stimuli there is sometimes a lot to take but I just try to stay focused on why I'm there and not all the people around me.
Overall I had a good worship experience. The music was rejuvenating. The message spoke to me, especially on a level that really hit home with my past church political experiences. The message was focused in the book of Titus. It was a beautiful message, given by the pastor who created the Children's Ministry Curriculum of which I am very familiar. The Children's Ministry Program at this church is one of the strongest I have ever seen and I would love my own children to be one day raised in this environment.
After service I walked to the "Guest Services" area forcing myself to say hello to the volunteers. This was stressful for me as I'm not a person to be forwardly social right away in a new situation. After doing this and receiving a warm welcome I decided to push myself a little further and visit the Nursery. One goal of mine in finding a new church in Omaha is finding a place where I could bring our children when we have a family. This is especially important knowing how much Jason loves it here. While I look for a home church I try to keep in mind that by finding such a place in which I'm comfortable I may grow to like or even love Omaha. The Nursery seemed nice and as a major plus, the director of the Nursery used cloth diapers on all her children and doesn't mind if I were to be a future parent using cloth.
I think I found my home. A few more weeks will be the test. In a few weeks if I still feel at ease here, as though I'm coming home, it may be my new church home. With a new church in Omaha, perhaps, eventually I can feel at home in this now very uncomfortable city.
Monday, November 1, 2010
Jason Saves The Day!
Sunday, October 31st...Halloween aka Reformation Day.....
I love this holiday, likely because I adore children so much. It was a down day for me so it did not start out well and there was nothing I felt that I could look forward to as there are no children in our home anymore. There was no one to dress up, take trick-or-treating, paint pumpkins with and since we live in an apartment once again no one to hand candy out to. Disappointing was the way the day started and my mood wasn't helping. I've been cycling rather quickly this past month or so. Yesterday was a down day where as Thursday was a manic day.
Work was okay. Nothing special. Not that difficult to get through. Coming home was a different story all together. Jason was off for the day so seeing him was good but that was as far as my mood would allow me to go in a positive direction.
I came home with the intention of making chocolate chip cookies from scratch. My instant cookies have been nothing but disasters lately so I really want to do the homemade thing once again. Problem was when I looked at the kitchen it was as though I had been sucker punched. There's no counter space and thus when there are a few dirty dishes it's overwhelming to me. I did not feel like cleaning so that I could bake for an hour then clean some more. That required a lot of energy I did not possess. Depressed I leave the clean mixing bowl and the bag of chocolate chips on the kitchen table and plopped down on the couch.
I curl up with the couch pillows and my favorite throw, put on FRIENDS and lay there. After a while I get up as I haven't ate much all day and look for something that doesn't require a lot of room or dishes to make. I didn't have the energy to clean and am very hungry at this point. The only thing I find requiring no room and no dishes was a sleeve of Ritz crackers. I bring them back to the couch and devour nearly the entire package. Not good for me, I know but I didn't care.
I take a nap. I do this way too much when I get bored, upset or simply depressed. I can't cope so I sleep. When sleeping I don't think and I don't feel which during these down times is all I want.
Evening approaches and Jason asks me what I want for dinner as I stir on the couch. I reply, "Something that doesn't dirty a lot of dishes and that is easy and fast. I wanted french toast but we have no bread. I wanted pizza but we have no pizza. The kitchen is so messy I can't stand it and it's overwhelming so I don't want to go in there for very long." I go back to sleep. I know I wasn't very cheery, but it was the honest truth. If there's one thing I do well, it's telling the truth. I'm honest to a fault.
When I awaken I hear a buzz at the apartment door and Jason leaves. I try to go back to sleep but thankfully I was unsuccessful. Jason returns with delivered pizza and bread-sticks. I wander into the kitchen to grab a plate as I'm so happy we have pizza! Even more surprises, Jason has loaded the dishwasher and the kitchen is clean! Oh, bliss!! I wasn't super perky but not so depressed either. After having yummy, yummy pizza the coffee maker was easily accessible so I made some coffee. No more sleep for me.
The remainder of the night turned around. By noticing what kind of mental state I was in and realizing that I was not going to be able to pull myself out of this one Jason saved the day! He did what was needed for me to be able to function for the remainder of the night. I'm so happy that Jason is understanding a little more about this crazy illness (no pun intended) and there are some days when I cannot do what needs to be done on my own.
I'm super clean myself but when others are not there are days I just don't care to clean up after them. It's too much. Clean equals peace in my world. There's less stress when things are all in order.
I love this holiday, likely because I adore children so much. It was a down day for me so it did not start out well and there was nothing I felt that I could look forward to as there are no children in our home anymore. There was no one to dress up, take trick-or-treating, paint pumpkins with and since we live in an apartment once again no one to hand candy out to. Disappointing was the way the day started and my mood wasn't helping. I've been cycling rather quickly this past month or so. Yesterday was a down day where as Thursday was a manic day.
Work was okay. Nothing special. Not that difficult to get through. Coming home was a different story all together. Jason was off for the day so seeing him was good but that was as far as my mood would allow me to go in a positive direction.
I came home with the intention of making chocolate chip cookies from scratch. My instant cookies have been nothing but disasters lately so I really want to do the homemade thing once again. Problem was when I looked at the kitchen it was as though I had been sucker punched. There's no counter space and thus when there are a few dirty dishes it's overwhelming to me. I did not feel like cleaning so that I could bake for an hour then clean some more. That required a lot of energy I did not possess. Depressed I leave the clean mixing bowl and the bag of chocolate chips on the kitchen table and plopped down on the couch.
I curl up with the couch pillows and my favorite throw, put on FRIENDS and lay there. After a while I get up as I haven't ate much all day and look for something that doesn't require a lot of room or dishes to make. I didn't have the energy to clean and am very hungry at this point. The only thing I find requiring no room and no dishes was a sleeve of Ritz crackers. I bring them back to the couch and devour nearly the entire package. Not good for me, I know but I didn't care.
I take a nap. I do this way too much when I get bored, upset or simply depressed. I can't cope so I sleep. When sleeping I don't think and I don't feel which during these down times is all I want.
Evening approaches and Jason asks me what I want for dinner as I stir on the couch. I reply, "Something that doesn't dirty a lot of dishes and that is easy and fast. I wanted french toast but we have no bread. I wanted pizza but we have no pizza. The kitchen is so messy I can't stand it and it's overwhelming so I don't want to go in there for very long." I go back to sleep. I know I wasn't very cheery, but it was the honest truth. If there's one thing I do well, it's telling the truth. I'm honest to a fault.
When I awaken I hear a buzz at the apartment door and Jason leaves. I try to go back to sleep but thankfully I was unsuccessful. Jason returns with delivered pizza and bread-sticks. I wander into the kitchen to grab a plate as I'm so happy we have pizza! Even more surprises, Jason has loaded the dishwasher and the kitchen is clean! Oh, bliss!! I wasn't super perky but not so depressed either. After having yummy, yummy pizza the coffee maker was easily accessible so I made some coffee. No more sleep for me.
The remainder of the night turned around. By noticing what kind of mental state I was in and realizing that I was not going to be able to pull myself out of this one Jason saved the day! He did what was needed for me to be able to function for the remainder of the night. I'm so happy that Jason is understanding a little more about this crazy illness (no pun intended) and there are some days when I cannot do what needs to be done on my own.
I'm super clean myself but when others are not there are days I just don't care to clean up after them. It's too much. Clean equals peace in my world. There's less stress when things are all in order.
Saturday, October 30, 2010
Happy Memories
When I think back to the happiest days of my life (thus far) I think of the time my husband and I were foster parents to my oldest nephew, Jadien.
Jadien came to live with us when he was eight months old. A victim of a domestically violent situation Jadien took the worst of the violence. It was November of 2007 when everything unfolded. Jadien was just over four months old and he was "sick" or so my sister and I thought. We took him to the emergency room on Thanksgiving day before going to visit our family. It was a crazed morning, one I'll never forget. Jamie, my sister, had a very difficult time leaving the house that day as her abusive boyfriend was physically trying to keep her from leaving the apartment. He kept yelling at me through the door to bring Jadien back to the apartment as I had taken him down to the car to sit with my husband as Jamie finished packing the diaper bag. I refused which made him even more irate. I was not going to bring a sick child back to the apartment when it was obviously not safe. So, Jadien remained in the heated car with my husband while I began to deflect his anger.
Deflecting an abusive person's anger is something I learned growing up with my father. It always worked quite well in the situations I've found myself in, yet I'm not a medical professional, just someone who has lived though a lot of domestically violent situations so take it worth a grain of salt if you will. My sisters never learned this trait but someone tends to be abusive because they enjoy the power they have over the other individual. I use that need for power to deflect their anger away from other people towards myself. Basically I began very calmly (never yelling) attacking the person's shortfalls. With my sister's ex it was his lack of a high school diploma or GED when I was attending college and planning to go on to grad school. I moved on to asking him about how the job was going, which of course he never had. I would tell him everything that was wonderful in my life and ask him in return about his own shortcomings. Doing this allowed him to become very upset with me and gave my sister the opportunity to overcome her abuser and get out of the house. We ran! We called and met with the police. They began the search as he had tried to chase after us with my sister's car.
When we felt it was safe we drove to the emergency room for Jadien. We were there for what seemed like an eternity-due mostly to the drama of the morning which was causing a sense of urgency. We found out that the abuser had been arrested but within an hour released. He would be able to go back to the apartment soon. I went into survival mode. I rushed the ER staff, which in retrospect I wish I had not done, and got Jamie and Jadien out of the hospital as soon as possible so we could go back to her place for formula and other necessities. Jamie said she was fed up! She said she was leaving! Later that night, she returned.
THREE DAYS LATER
LOCATION: HOSPITAL
I was working for Sheldon Memorial Art Gallery as an intern when I received the news, Jadien was in the hospital and Jamie and the abuser were in questioning. I knew this would happen, prayed that it wouldn't, but it did. It was found at a routine checkup, two separate brain bleeds and two separate detached retinas. Jadien had Shaken Baby Syndrome. He was injured at least twice and he had been throwing up and "sick" due to massive head trauma. The doctors said that he would need emergency surgery to correct the damage and that there was a change he could come out of the surgery with brain damage and/or blindness.
My question: If Jamie and the abuser were not able to care for a perfectly healthy little boy, how would they care for one with brain damage and/or blindness?
My husband and I discussed possibly caring for Jadien over the next week and made the decision to become his foster parents. Although there is a policy in foster care in which the state attempts to place a child with family before an outside source it would take us four months and a lot of work to have Jadien placed in our home. By January we had our home visit and had purchased all the necessities for taking care of him at this age. Although we had thought the home visit went well it was advised I drop one of the last two college courses I needed before graduation as the interviewer thought parenthood and taking two courses would be too much for me to handle. I did this. It was also suggested that I seek therapy for the trauma of my own childhood. I did this. Still months of waiting went by. No Jadien. I made calls several times a week, wanting to know what was going on? What did we need to do in order to become his foster parents?
Granted I'm sure that there were some reservations that placing Jadien with us may not be in his best interests. Why? An attempt was made at one point to remove my sisters and I from our biological parents. It failed. My father met the social worker with a shot gun at the door. The worker never came back. I'm the oldest and my two younger sisters were obviously damaged by our upbringing. Jamie, the middle sibling, was in a relationship with an abusive drug addicted man who not only hurt her but nearly killed Jadien yet at this time and for a least a year following she stayed with this man. My youngest sister found her way into the drug world as well and found herself her own unemployed drunk boyfriend. It only makes sense that if everyone else in my immediate family is that screwed up I should be as well. Perhaps I am, yet it's not visible and what I am defective in I look for help to correct.
My husband and I, for being so young, had good jobs and were quite mature for our age. Lack of a proper childhood aged me quickly. I learned to take care of myself and my sisters. Now one of my sisters' children was in trouble and those survival instincts to protect everyone around me as much as possible were once again kicked into high gear. Not having Jadien placed with us was causing serious stress. I began losing massive amounts of weight, which I did not have to spare. It seemed hopeless.
Finally in late February of 2008 I received a letter inviting me to a foster care course in Nebraska City, NE. We were willing to do anything to have Jadien placed in our home thus I enrolled. I drove out to Nebraska City on a Saturday morning ready to learn all I could, not knowing this course and the instructors there would change everything for us and little Jadien.
After the class I spoke to the instructors about my family situation. As this foster care class was centered on placing foster children with a family member first and foremost I was an example of the system gone wrong. The instructors both warned me that if Jadien was not placed in our home within the next week he would never come to live with us. I had to work quickly now. A judge would not move Jadien if the process took very much longer for fear that he had already become too attached to the emergency family he was originally placed with. I received the names and numbers of those in charge of the foster care system in the state of Nebraska as well as the name and number of the regional director. It was time to talk to those who could make anything happen.
Within a few days I was receiving answers and offers to take Jadien for short visits. My husband and I had long been approved through the state yet everything was at a stand still and our case had been all but forgotten. The calls that were made to the big wigs finally jump started everything and put Jadien's case on the forefront. Less than a week after the class I saw Jadien for the first time since Thanksgiving Day 2007. A few hours into our visit we received surprising news, we could take him home that day. Oh what a splendid day that became!!
Here are some pictures of Jadien's life with us as his foster parents, some of the most joyous moments of my life to date. Jadien will always hold a special place in our hearts. We will always consider him as one of our children although he is now our nephew once again. Jason and I will one day make wonderful biological parents in loo of what the state initially believed. My childhood did not ruin my ability to become a great parent. With therapy the cycle was broken. The drugs, the abuse, the irresponsible parenting ends with me.
We love you Jadien!!
These two pictures were taken a week after Jadien came to live with us. They were his first ever professional photographs. It was near Easter obviously and he's eight months old in these pictures. At this time he was unable to crawl as he was still healing from his injuries.
These pictures were taken in early summer 2008. Jadien was not quite one year old yet. It was his first trip to the zoo and boy did he love it!!
Jadien's favorite person in the entire world his his Uncle Jason. Every day that Jason came home from work Jadien would get to the door as fast as he could to greet him. As you can tell he had not yet learned to walk yet, that would not happen until after his first birthday. Jadien was thirteen months before he began taking steps.
Play time. When ever possible I tried to have Jadien at home and not at the daycare. I enjoyed caring for him and was able to give him more attention while at home. We played a lot but also did some age appropriate learning activities.
Jadien's first birthday was celebrated in our front yard on the fourth of July. We had a very large party and by the end of it he was so very tired.
I love this picture. Jadien was getting to be such a big boy at this point. His facial features here are more pronounced.
Where Jason was, Jadien wanted to be. What Jadien used, Jadien wanted. Jadien attempted to play with the computer, cell phone or in the car when Jason was near any of these. Often times we let him, as long as nothing would hurt him and he wouldn't be able to hurt, much. :-)
Play time in fall of 2008. It was during this time Jadien had learned to walk and gain enough balance in order to bend over and pick items up. This was such a happy moment as he had overcome so much. No blindness, no brain damage and now the ability to walk.
Christmas 2008 was Jadien's first Christmas with his family. At eighteen months he was in love with cars and there was no lack of them under the Christmas tree this year!
These pictures were the bittersweet end to Jadien's life as our foster son and ours as his foster parents. The following day he returned to live with his biological mom.
Although the abuse Jadien suffered and the difficulty we went through to have him placed in our home was not very pleasant, having him for a son even for a little while was worth it. Jadien was a blessing which truly enriched our lives. I adore and will always love Jadien. His life with us made my life full of laughter and joy. Someday I hope he realizes how much we treasured him as a foster son and treasure him now as a nephew.
**Less than a month later, Jadien returned to our home, along with his little brother Hunter, and his pregnant mom, my sister. She and the kids were homeless and would live with us for nearly a year, but that's for another blog.**
Jadien came to live with us when he was eight months old. A victim of a domestically violent situation Jadien took the worst of the violence. It was November of 2007 when everything unfolded. Jadien was just over four months old and he was "sick" or so my sister and I thought. We took him to the emergency room on Thanksgiving day before going to visit our family. It was a crazed morning, one I'll never forget. Jamie, my sister, had a very difficult time leaving the house that day as her abusive boyfriend was physically trying to keep her from leaving the apartment. He kept yelling at me through the door to bring Jadien back to the apartment as I had taken him down to the car to sit with my husband as Jamie finished packing the diaper bag. I refused which made him even more irate. I was not going to bring a sick child back to the apartment when it was obviously not safe. So, Jadien remained in the heated car with my husband while I began to deflect his anger.
Deflecting an abusive person's anger is something I learned growing up with my father. It always worked quite well in the situations I've found myself in, yet I'm not a medical professional, just someone who has lived though a lot of domestically violent situations so take it worth a grain of salt if you will. My sisters never learned this trait but someone tends to be abusive because they enjoy the power they have over the other individual. I use that need for power to deflect their anger away from other people towards myself. Basically I began very calmly (never yelling) attacking the person's shortfalls. With my sister's ex it was his lack of a high school diploma or GED when I was attending college and planning to go on to grad school. I moved on to asking him about how the job was going, which of course he never had. I would tell him everything that was wonderful in my life and ask him in return about his own shortcomings. Doing this allowed him to become very upset with me and gave my sister the opportunity to overcome her abuser and get out of the house. We ran! We called and met with the police. They began the search as he had tried to chase after us with my sister's car.
When we felt it was safe we drove to the emergency room for Jadien. We were there for what seemed like an eternity-due mostly to the drama of the morning which was causing a sense of urgency. We found out that the abuser had been arrested but within an hour released. He would be able to go back to the apartment soon. I went into survival mode. I rushed the ER staff, which in retrospect I wish I had not done, and got Jamie and Jadien out of the hospital as soon as possible so we could go back to her place for formula and other necessities. Jamie said she was fed up! She said she was leaving! Later that night, she returned.
THREE DAYS LATER
LOCATION: HOSPITAL
I was working for Sheldon Memorial Art Gallery as an intern when I received the news, Jadien was in the hospital and Jamie and the abuser were in questioning. I knew this would happen, prayed that it wouldn't, but it did. It was found at a routine checkup, two separate brain bleeds and two separate detached retinas. Jadien had Shaken Baby Syndrome. He was injured at least twice and he had been throwing up and "sick" due to massive head trauma. The doctors said that he would need emergency surgery to correct the damage and that there was a change he could come out of the surgery with brain damage and/or blindness.
My question: If Jamie and the abuser were not able to care for a perfectly healthy little boy, how would they care for one with brain damage and/or blindness?
My husband and I discussed possibly caring for Jadien over the next week and made the decision to become his foster parents. Although there is a policy in foster care in which the state attempts to place a child with family before an outside source it would take us four months and a lot of work to have Jadien placed in our home. By January we had our home visit and had purchased all the necessities for taking care of him at this age. Although we had thought the home visit went well it was advised I drop one of the last two college courses I needed before graduation as the interviewer thought parenthood and taking two courses would be too much for me to handle. I did this. It was also suggested that I seek therapy for the trauma of my own childhood. I did this. Still months of waiting went by. No Jadien. I made calls several times a week, wanting to know what was going on? What did we need to do in order to become his foster parents?
Granted I'm sure that there were some reservations that placing Jadien with us may not be in his best interests. Why? An attempt was made at one point to remove my sisters and I from our biological parents. It failed. My father met the social worker with a shot gun at the door. The worker never came back. I'm the oldest and my two younger sisters were obviously damaged by our upbringing. Jamie, the middle sibling, was in a relationship with an abusive drug addicted man who not only hurt her but nearly killed Jadien yet at this time and for a least a year following she stayed with this man. My youngest sister found her way into the drug world as well and found herself her own unemployed drunk boyfriend. It only makes sense that if everyone else in my immediate family is that screwed up I should be as well. Perhaps I am, yet it's not visible and what I am defective in I look for help to correct.
My husband and I, for being so young, had good jobs and were quite mature for our age. Lack of a proper childhood aged me quickly. I learned to take care of myself and my sisters. Now one of my sisters' children was in trouble and those survival instincts to protect everyone around me as much as possible were once again kicked into high gear. Not having Jadien placed with us was causing serious stress. I began losing massive amounts of weight, which I did not have to spare. It seemed hopeless.
Finally in late February of 2008 I received a letter inviting me to a foster care course in Nebraska City, NE. We were willing to do anything to have Jadien placed in our home thus I enrolled. I drove out to Nebraska City on a Saturday morning ready to learn all I could, not knowing this course and the instructors there would change everything for us and little Jadien.
After the class I spoke to the instructors about my family situation. As this foster care class was centered on placing foster children with a family member first and foremost I was an example of the system gone wrong. The instructors both warned me that if Jadien was not placed in our home within the next week he would never come to live with us. I had to work quickly now. A judge would not move Jadien if the process took very much longer for fear that he had already become too attached to the emergency family he was originally placed with. I received the names and numbers of those in charge of the foster care system in the state of Nebraska as well as the name and number of the regional director. It was time to talk to those who could make anything happen.
Within a few days I was receiving answers and offers to take Jadien for short visits. My husband and I had long been approved through the state yet everything was at a stand still and our case had been all but forgotten. The calls that were made to the big wigs finally jump started everything and put Jadien's case on the forefront. Less than a week after the class I saw Jadien for the first time since Thanksgiving Day 2007. A few hours into our visit we received surprising news, we could take him home that day. Oh what a splendid day that became!!
Here are some pictures of Jadien's life with us as his foster parents, some of the most joyous moments of my life to date. Jadien will always hold a special place in our hearts. We will always consider him as one of our children although he is now our nephew once again. Jason and I will one day make wonderful biological parents in loo of what the state initially believed. My childhood did not ruin my ability to become a great parent. With therapy the cycle was broken. The drugs, the abuse, the irresponsible parenting ends with me.
We love you Jadien!!
These pictures were taken in early summer 2008. Jadien was not quite one year old yet. It was his first trip to the zoo and boy did he love it!!
Jadien's favorite person in the entire world his his Uncle Jason. Every day that Jason came home from work Jadien would get to the door as fast as he could to greet him. As you can tell he had not yet learned to walk yet, that would not happen until after his first birthday. Jadien was thirteen months before he began taking steps.
Play time. When ever possible I tried to have Jadien at home and not at the daycare. I enjoyed caring for him and was able to give him more attention while at home. We played a lot but also did some age appropriate learning activities.
Jadien's first birthday was celebrated in our front yard on the fourth of July. We had a very large party and by the end of it he was so very tired.
I love this picture. Jadien was getting to be such a big boy at this point. His facial features here are more pronounced.
Where Jason was, Jadien wanted to be. What Jadien used, Jadien wanted. Jadien attempted to play with the computer, cell phone or in the car when Jason was near any of these. Often times we let him, as long as nothing would hurt him and he wouldn't be able to hurt, much. :-)
Play time in fall of 2008. It was during this time Jadien had learned to walk and gain enough balance in order to bend over and pick items up. This was such a happy moment as he had overcome so much. No blindness, no brain damage and now the ability to walk.
Christmas 2008 was Jadien's first Christmas with his family. At eighteen months he was in love with cars and there was no lack of them under the Christmas tree this year!
These pictures were the bittersweet end to Jadien's life as our foster son and ours as his foster parents. The following day he returned to live with his biological mom.
Although the abuse Jadien suffered and the difficulty we went through to have him placed in our home was not very pleasant, having him for a son even for a little while was worth it. Jadien was a blessing which truly enriched our lives. I adore and will always love Jadien. His life with us made my life full of laughter and joy. Someday I hope he realizes how much we treasured him as a foster son and treasure him now as a nephew.
**Less than a month later, Jadien returned to our home, along with his little brother Hunter, and his pregnant mom, my sister. She and the kids were homeless and would live with us for nearly a year, but that's for another blog.**
Friday, October 29, 2010
Productive Craziness Makes Me Happy
Yesterday, Thursday, was one of my days off for this week. Tuesday was my other day off and I was utterly depressed on that day so hopes were not set very high for yesterday either yet I was pleasantly surprised.
The day began with some Christmas shopping for my grandmother. When that was completed I swung by the apartment maintenance to inform them of some repairs which were needed. Pleasantly the maintenance man came out immediately. We even received an upgrade from the product that was replaced. It was nice! Almost made me consider breaking things in our apartment "accidentally" so they could be replaced with newer and better things...almost. Our apartment is kinda cruddy, so it was a tempting idea. I guess you get what you pay for though and what you pay in Omaha is much higher than what you would in Lincoln for the same quality.
Since I really don't like others coming into my home when I feel it is less then perfect I began to clean after the maintenance stop. Began with the dishes, then started on the living room. When I began in that room I did not expect it would take up most of my day, yet it was totally worth it!!
Jason and I moved from Lincoln, NE to Omaha about six months ago due to my health issues. We were attempting to escape for the majority of my stress triggers. In order to afford the rent in the "big city" we were downsizing, a lot. We moved from a three bedroom duplex with a full yard and basement in a good neighborhood to a one bedroom apartment with our garage as the only storage in an okay neighborhood. By an okay neighborhood I mean that my gas has already been stolen out of my car since living here. Stating it's okay is giving it a lot more credit than perhaps I should.
On moving day everyone placed everything in the living-room. I typically don't like moving this way but we were in a hurry and our helpers did not care as much as I do about where things are placed. The boxes, bins and bags were piled high. I had a massive moving sale yet apparently I did not get rid of enough things. My grandmother was kind enough to allow us to store seasonal items and our cannot do without baby items at her house for when we need them. We do not have children of our own yet, but we did buy most everything we'll need at least in terms of Baby furniture when Jadien lived with us and to get rid of it only to replace it later would be wasteful spending. Until yesterday there was still far too much in our living-room though I've tried for months to clean and/or organize that room.
I went though every box and bin still remaining. I threw out what I knew that I could, meaning I threw out what was mine and I didn't want and what was Jason's and I knew he wouldn't care about. If it was questionable I threw it into a bin with any of Jason's tools or computer items and it went in our storage pile. I figure I'm not going to get into trouble for tossing something he wants and I'm sure he will not care to go through the bins himself, so they're just going to sit in storage. As long as they are outside our apartment and I don't have to look at them I don't care. :-)
I sorted the bills and important paperwork. I folded all the laundry Jason had completed the day before. Hopefully I'll have the energy to put that all away tonight after work. You would think all that would be enough, but no. I then began making eight Christmas Cards and painted my toe nails. It was such a wonderfully productive day.
I feel so good about myself that I was able to accomplish so much in only one short day. More than anything I feel relaxed and at peace when I enter the living-room now. My husbands thoughts when he saw all the cleaning I had accomplished: "We look poor now." Apparently lack of clutter, means you are poor. In that case...I love being poor. LOL Growing up I was extremely impoverished yet I loved the simplicity my room brought me. I didn't have much. What I did have I cherished. I enjoyed the cleanliness that my few items offered me. Less stuff=Less stress.
Now if only I could get Jason to unclutter some of his things which he never uses I'll be even more relaxed. One can dream, can't they?
The day began with some Christmas shopping for my grandmother. When that was completed I swung by the apartment maintenance to inform them of some repairs which were needed. Pleasantly the maintenance man came out immediately. We even received an upgrade from the product that was replaced. It was nice! Almost made me consider breaking things in our apartment "accidentally" so they could be replaced with newer and better things...almost. Our apartment is kinda cruddy, so it was a tempting idea. I guess you get what you pay for though and what you pay in Omaha is much higher than what you would in Lincoln for the same quality.
Since I really don't like others coming into my home when I feel it is less then perfect I began to clean after the maintenance stop. Began with the dishes, then started on the living room. When I began in that room I did not expect it would take up most of my day, yet it was totally worth it!!
Jason and I moved from Lincoln, NE to Omaha about six months ago due to my health issues. We were attempting to escape for the majority of my stress triggers. In order to afford the rent in the "big city" we were downsizing, a lot. We moved from a three bedroom duplex with a full yard and basement in a good neighborhood to a one bedroom apartment with our garage as the only storage in an okay neighborhood. By an okay neighborhood I mean that my gas has already been stolen out of my car since living here. Stating it's okay is giving it a lot more credit than perhaps I should.
On moving day everyone placed everything in the living-room. I typically don't like moving this way but we were in a hurry and our helpers did not care as much as I do about where things are placed. The boxes, bins and bags were piled high. I had a massive moving sale yet apparently I did not get rid of enough things. My grandmother was kind enough to allow us to store seasonal items and our cannot do without baby items at her house for when we need them. We do not have children of our own yet, but we did buy most everything we'll need at least in terms of Baby furniture when Jadien lived with us and to get rid of it only to replace it later would be wasteful spending. Until yesterday there was still far too much in our living-room though I've tried for months to clean and/or organize that room.
I went though every box and bin still remaining. I threw out what I knew that I could, meaning I threw out what was mine and I didn't want and what was Jason's and I knew he wouldn't care about. If it was questionable I threw it into a bin with any of Jason's tools or computer items and it went in our storage pile. I figure I'm not going to get into trouble for tossing something he wants and I'm sure he will not care to go through the bins himself, so they're just going to sit in storage. As long as they are outside our apartment and I don't have to look at them I don't care. :-)
I sorted the bills and important paperwork. I folded all the laundry Jason had completed the day before. Hopefully I'll have the energy to put that all away tonight after work. You would think all that would be enough, but no. I then began making eight Christmas Cards and painted my toe nails. It was such a wonderfully productive day.
I feel so good about myself that I was able to accomplish so much in only one short day. More than anything I feel relaxed and at peace when I enter the living-room now. My husbands thoughts when he saw all the cleaning I had accomplished: "We look poor now." Apparently lack of clutter, means you are poor. In that case...I love being poor. LOL Growing up I was extremely impoverished yet I loved the simplicity my room brought me. I didn't have much. What I did have I cherished. I enjoyed the cleanliness that my few items offered me. Less stuff=Less stress.
Now if only I could get Jason to unclutter some of his things which he never uses I'll be even more relaxed. One can dream, can't they?
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Feelin' like a Potato
Today I went to Five Guys for lunch. I had never eaten there before but heard that it was pricey yet tasty. Funny thing is that when I arrived all the reviews from various magazines around the restaurant boasted about the economical pricing of the place. Apparently for most areas the prices are very reasonable. Here, in Nebraska it's pricey. I purchased a small fry, bacon cheese burger and a drink for around ten dollars. Granted the amount of fries I received could feed at least two people but I only ordered for myself. I really don't like wasting so I tried to pawn some of my fries on others and no one wanted them. Sad. I wasted food. The burger was really good even for the nearly five dollar price tag and I did get to drink my favorite Golden Peak Sweet Tea. All in all it was a good experience.
Would I go again...maybe. However, I would never order fries unless someone was going to share them with me. It's not something I'll do very often as for this area it's quite pricey. Due to the massive amount of fries I currently feel like a large potato!! There's a little more than three hours before I can head home and oh, do I want to lie down as soon as I get inside the apartment.
Would I go again...maybe. However, I would never order fries unless someone was going to share them with me. It's not something I'll do very often as for this area it's quite pricey. Due to the massive amount of fries I currently feel like a large potato!! There's a little more than three hours before I can head home and oh, do I want to lie down as soon as I get inside the apartment.
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Yoga makes life a bit brighter!
As you could tell yesterday was not very pleasant for me. In fact the few days prior were not all sunshine and roses either but today is much better. I'm not saying life sucks, far from it. I have a lot going for me but sometimes I forget that and it really doesn't help when you work in customer care. It's also not beneficial when you have an illness that causes you to be overly critical of everyone and everything but mostly yourself so much so that it's paralyzing.
Upon coming home from work yesterday I did some yoga from one of the GAIAM dvds I own. My instructor was Colleen Saidman. My other instructor I really like is the popular Rodney Yee. This was a very peaceful and rejuvenating workout. I highly recommend Yoga to anyone dealing with any kind of major stress or a mental illness, especially Bipolar which feeds on stress. Sometimes I don't feel like doing much of anything but if I force myself to get up and do some Yoga I always am thankful. I never thought that something so little could give me such peace and a sense of calm, but it does!
Currently I'm considering getting rid of most of my craft items and just forgetting about the Etsy thing. This is not because I want to give up but because I want to de-clutter my life. It's important to me that my house be clean and I work out to maintain my health. Easing stress when ever possible is key to a healthy life for me and by extension those around me.
One thing that would irritate me would be all the money I've spent on my craft world. If I were to get rid of it I would want to either put it to good use or sell it so that I didn't feel as though I was being wasteful. Please don't misunderstand me I love crafting...I just don't need to have the feeling that I MUST do this card or make that scrapbook, etc. I'm making all of my own Christmas Cards this year as I have the materials and it will save money, yet I've spent more money on materials than I would have saved and it's causing me stress. I make a card and think that it doesn't look good enough. Granted what I'm doing is "stinkin' thinking" and that's very popular among Bipolars but why put myself in a situation when I know I'm prone to that kind of negativity.
I'm really good at crafts. I know that. I can paint, scrapbook, make cards, crochet, basically do anything I really want when it comes to being artsy yet what I must remember is everything in moderation. So maybe I shouldn't completely get rid of all my paper art supplies, just limit what I do. Finish my current projects and then take it easy. Yes. That sounds like a good plan.
Upon coming home from work yesterday I did some yoga from one of the GAIAM dvds I own. My instructor was Colleen Saidman. My other instructor I really like is the popular Rodney Yee. This was a very peaceful and rejuvenating workout. I highly recommend Yoga to anyone dealing with any kind of major stress or a mental illness, especially Bipolar which feeds on stress. Sometimes I don't feel like doing much of anything but if I force myself to get up and do some Yoga I always am thankful. I never thought that something so little could give me such peace and a sense of calm, but it does!
Currently I'm considering getting rid of most of my craft items and just forgetting about the Etsy thing. This is not because I want to give up but because I want to de-clutter my life. It's important to me that my house be clean and I work out to maintain my health. Easing stress when ever possible is key to a healthy life for me and by extension those around me.
One thing that would irritate me would be all the money I've spent on my craft world. If I were to get rid of it I would want to either put it to good use or sell it so that I didn't feel as though I was being wasteful. Please don't misunderstand me I love crafting...I just don't need to have the feeling that I MUST do this card or make that scrapbook, etc. I'm making all of my own Christmas Cards this year as I have the materials and it will save money, yet I've spent more money on materials than I would have saved and it's causing me stress. I make a card and think that it doesn't look good enough. Granted what I'm doing is "stinkin' thinking" and that's very popular among Bipolars but why put myself in a situation when I know I'm prone to that kind of negativity.
I'm really good at crafts. I know that. I can paint, scrapbook, make cards, crochet, basically do anything I really want when it comes to being artsy yet what I must remember is everything in moderation. So maybe I shouldn't completely get rid of all my paper art supplies, just limit what I do. Finish my current projects and then take it easy. Yes. That sounds like a good plan.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
What a FLIPPIN' day!!!
Where to I even begin?!?
I've been depressed lately. I don't want to get out of bed. I could care less about my scrap-booking or card-making for Etsy. I feel that what I make is not good enough for anyone to buy. I look at the mess of a house and I don't have the energy to begin to clean. I know it's not unlivable so I don't get up. I stay on the couch or in the bed. I don't have the will to care.
If I could have I would have called in sick today.
If I had called in today then...
...no crazy woman would have screamed at me about her computer being broken and although it had nothing to do with what we had worked on demanded we fix this issue for free!
...I would have not had issues trying to QA a stupid laptop HP sent us
...would not have had to deal with stupid people giving me problems to solve assuming I made a mistake when there was no problem and thus no mistake
...would not have heard that my boss was fired.
And it goes on and on!! This all within the first two hours! It sucks that this is the beginning of a six day work week. Crap couldn't have hit the fan on day five or six...no, had to be day one!
STUPID RUDE ANGRY PEOPLE STAY AWAY FROM ME TODAY!
It's too much, just too much! I had to vent, either that or risk doing some really stupid things. Oh what a FLIPPIN' day!! Someone sedate me! PLEASE!
Perhaps nothing would seem so bad and irritate me so if I was medicated but I'm not. I'm trying and failing here. At least I'm at work. I know of many BiPolars on or off meds have a difficult time getting there. You can include me in that group once in a while, but not today. I'm here, at work, putting up with the bull and not getting fired...at least not yet.
I've been depressed lately. I don't want to get out of bed. I could care less about my scrap-booking or card-making for Etsy. I feel that what I make is not good enough for anyone to buy. I look at the mess of a house and I don't have the energy to begin to clean. I know it's not unlivable so I don't get up. I stay on the couch or in the bed. I don't have the will to care.
If I could have I would have called in sick today.
If I had called in today then...
...no crazy woman would have screamed at me about her computer being broken and although it had nothing to do with what we had worked on demanded we fix this issue for free!
...I would have not had issues trying to QA a stupid laptop HP sent us
...would not have had to deal with stupid people giving me problems to solve assuming I made a mistake when there was no problem and thus no mistake
...would not have heard that my boss was fired.
And it goes on and on!! This all within the first two hours! It sucks that this is the beginning of a six day work week. Crap couldn't have hit the fan on day five or six...no, had to be day one!
STUPID RUDE ANGRY PEOPLE STAY AWAY FROM ME TODAY!
It's too much, just too much! I had to vent, either that or risk doing some really stupid things. Oh what a FLIPPIN' day!! Someone sedate me! PLEASE!
Perhaps nothing would seem so bad and irritate me so if I was medicated but I'm not. I'm trying and failing here. At least I'm at work. I know of many BiPolars on or off meds have a difficult time getting there. You can include me in that group once in a while, but not today. I'm here, at work, putting up with the bull and not getting fired...at least not yet.
Friday, October 15, 2010
Running
Well yesterday did improve. I went to Target and bought some running clothes on clearance and a SHAPE magazine. When I arrived home my husband was already cleaning the house which made me so happy. He suggested that I throw our laundry in the multiple washers at the apartment clubhouse so they all get cleaned in a short amount of time and run at the gym.
So I ate the wonderful dinner he had prepared which was oh, so delicious and off I went. After tossing all the laundry in for a quick wash headed off to the gym. There are two treadmills in our apartment gym and as luck would have it they were both taken. Usually I would be bummed but with my new clothes I was determined to run! I bolted for the door and into the cool crisp dark air of an October evening. It was oh so pleasant. I forgot how much I miss running outside when it's dark out.
As a teenager I would run at least twice but mostly three times a day. I would go out for my first run before day break around 4am, second run would be after school around 3pm and the last run would occur between 7-8pm. Although the first run was so early it would always be my favorite because it was so dark and there wasn't anyone outside to glare. I also had an issue with not paying attention and running out in front of cars, less people meant less chance of this happening.
Last night was like one of my 4am runs, simply beautiful. I'm new to the area in which I live so it was nice to go and explore. When I returned home I was at peace. It was different from the norm. It was nice.
This morning I went again.
Hopefully I'll go tomorrow, and the day after that.
So I ate the wonderful dinner he had prepared which was oh, so delicious and off I went. After tossing all the laundry in for a quick wash headed off to the gym. There are two treadmills in our apartment gym and as luck would have it they were both taken. Usually I would be bummed but with my new clothes I was determined to run! I bolted for the door and into the cool crisp dark air of an October evening. It was oh so pleasant. I forgot how much I miss running outside when it's dark out.
As a teenager I would run at least twice but mostly three times a day. I would go out for my first run before day break around 4am, second run would be after school around 3pm and the last run would occur between 7-8pm. Although the first run was so early it would always be my favorite because it was so dark and there wasn't anyone outside to glare. I also had an issue with not paying attention and running out in front of cars, less people meant less chance of this happening.
Last night was like one of my 4am runs, simply beautiful. I'm new to the area in which I live so it was nice to go and explore. When I returned home I was at peace. It was different from the norm. It was nice.
This morning I went again.
Hopefully I'll go tomorrow, and the day after that.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Breaking
It's been one of those days. Nothing is wrong but at the same thing everything is falling apart.
I am at my breaking point in relation to stressors. This seems a bit insane to most people because I don't have a very stressful job. Currently my mind is racing and I'm "reading" a lot of minds. Doing these unhealthy things cause me to get anxious and freak out. One of my long time solutions to becoming overly stressed is to go on a shopping spree. REALLY trying VERY HARD not to do this. I know deep down that this would not be a positive way of coping. Thus I begin to think of other things I could do which would have the same effect.
I could eat some candy...
doing this makes me think about my nine year old cousin who informed me that I've gotten "fatter" since the last time he saw me three years ago at my wedding. I know I've gained a little weight...going up one size in everything from dresses to tops but fat is not what I would use to describe this, yet I feel terrible thinking of it.
I could watch a movie...
this may just be a waste of time though because while watching the movie I'll end up falling asleep and not doing any of the laundry that's been piling up all week and needs to get done before I leave this weekend.
I should...
go running...just need to get over the fact that no one is willing to go with me.
I should...
clean...making a cleaner house will ease my anxious mind. Set the kitchen timer to 15 minutes and get done what I can.
I should...
get my perscription refilled even if there's not enough money. Shopping unnecessarily will not do my finances any good either but I'm considering that option. At least with medication I know that I will not be so stressed over such silly maters.
Question is what will I do when I get home after typing all of this up? Honestly I don't know. I really hope I will go running, then come home and get a little cleaning done. Finally relax with a nice bubble bath. That sounds healthy...no shopping for me.
I am at my breaking point in relation to stressors. This seems a bit insane to most people because I don't have a very stressful job. Currently my mind is racing and I'm "reading" a lot of minds. Doing these unhealthy things cause me to get anxious and freak out. One of my long time solutions to becoming overly stressed is to go on a shopping spree. REALLY trying VERY HARD not to do this. I know deep down that this would not be a positive way of coping. Thus I begin to think of other things I could do which would have the same effect.
I could eat some candy...
doing this makes me think about my nine year old cousin who informed me that I've gotten "fatter" since the last time he saw me three years ago at my wedding. I know I've gained a little weight...going up one size in everything from dresses to tops but fat is not what I would use to describe this, yet I feel terrible thinking of it.
I could watch a movie...
this may just be a waste of time though because while watching the movie I'll end up falling asleep and not doing any of the laundry that's been piling up all week and needs to get done before I leave this weekend.
I should...
go running...just need to get over the fact that no one is willing to go with me.
I should...
clean...making a cleaner house will ease my anxious mind. Set the kitchen timer to 15 minutes and get done what I can.
I should...
get my perscription refilled even if there's not enough money. Shopping unnecessarily will not do my finances any good either but I'm considering that option. At least with medication I know that I will not be so stressed over such silly maters.
Question is what will I do when I get home after typing all of this up? Honestly I don't know. I really hope I will go running, then come home and get a little cleaning done. Finally relax with a nice bubble bath. That sounds healthy...no shopping for me.
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