Life moves with the current of time...

It's been too long since I posted but not much has happened ove the last few weeks.  We are no closer to being in a new home, in fact it is looking less likely now than it did a month ago.  Only God knows what is in store for us in the coming months.  I've been writing in my journal rather than here.  The thoughts, fears, rantings were too personal for this forum.  During the same time though I have been working on a piece that I just posted called Suicide Angel.  It's a story from my JT's life - one of the many I hope to compile.  Writing group tomorrow and an afternoon of report cards, IEP writing, and writing lesson plans.  Thanksgiving is around the corner and Christmas is just over the hill - are you ready?

Suicide Angel

Suicide is something that many people have contemplated on some level, at some point in their life. Some may have actually attempted to complete the act while for some it may have been simple introspection - ‘would I ever consider this ultimate act of rebellion?’



Yes, I said rebellion! The Catholic Church teaches that suicide is the unforgivable sin from which no soul can be saved. Since sin is going against the teachings (rules), or will, of God then sin can also be called rebellion.


Don’t get me wrong, I disagree with this damning teaching. I believe that Christ died on the cross for ALL sins, not just some of them. We are promised that once a person enters the family of God they are there for eternity. The act of suicide does not break this promise.


Suicide has been a life-long journey for me. Alcohol and drugs are the sissy attempt at suicide but like so many others I used them for years; until the summer of ‘83.


I had been in Honolulu about six years by the time I was 22. My son, Todd, was just over a year old when my wife decided to leave the marriage taking him with her. She filed papers, was granted the divorce and was given full custody without my even knowing she was planning to leave. My drug use was a problem, again, by that time; I was strung out on heroin and living on the streets.


The sun was shining bright that day as I leaned against the rock wall preparing to walk into the McDonald’s staring at me from across the street. The fifth of vodka I was nursing was almost gone; the time had almost come. My rig [kit for using heroin; generally contains a needle, mixing device and cotton] was in one pocket and the heroin purchased earlier that morning in the other. As I played with the plastic wrapped tar [heroin] in my pocket a short middle-aged man walked towards me. He was clean-shaven and well dressed; put together in a manner that caused me to wonder if he was gay – today he might be what they call metro-sexual.


“Looks like you’re having a rough day, mind if I talk to you for a few minutes?” Metro Man asked.


Through the vodka haze that moved in quickly I realized there was no one else standing nearby so he must be talking to me. “It’s a free world man, I’m about ready to go in McD’s over there, just as soon as I finish this,” I saluted my bottle with a stumble that almost landed me face down on the ground.


“Could I buy you something to eat then?”


I lowered my eyes, dropped my head to my chest, then threw my head back and took the last swallow of liquor as I pushed myself off the wall that had just caught me and mumbled “Wasn’t planning on eating, just have to use the bathroom.” [Cough] My voice caught in my throat is I mumble, “Time to ride that final train and feel the sunrise one last time.”


His hand touched my arm and steadied me as he asked, “Mind telling me what you’re planning?”


Puzzled and starting to feel the uglier side of my inebriation, I looked him square in the face, planted my feet, tried to stand up straight and angrily stated, “I just finished my fuckin’ bottle and now it’s time to go finish what I started (raising the bottle again). “I’m going to go off myself with this,” patting the black sunrise in my pocket. That should scare the fag and get him to fuck off I thought as I watched his face in anticipation.


He smiled as he gestured back toward the wall and asked, “Would you be willing to sit here and talk with me for a while? Tell me your situation and let me see if I can help. If you still want to walk through that door”, pointing towards McDonald’s, “after talking to me - I won’t stop you,” he added.


Who the fuck does he think he is - God? Fix my situation?! “You going to get my wife and son back for me?!” I snapped. “I don’t see a magic wand that is going to help me get clean, fix my fuckin’ leg, get me a job, get a fuckin’ place to stay!” I screamed in his face, thoughts racing, but too out of breath to continue.


“John, I can help you start”, he answered calmly. “Tell me about your son, how old is he?”


Tears welled up in my eyes; I missed my little man. “He’s one year old and the best thing I ever did. I’ve screwed up his life already though; I can’t even manage to pay for diapers or food for him.” I slumped against the wall and proceeded to tell this gentle man my story. Every time I paused Metro Man would ask a question that always managed to get me going again.


He heard about my dad dying, mom hating me, grandma dying, losing my leg, who I wished I was – I don’t remember how long we talked but it was long enough for me to sober up a little. It felt good to talk to someone who seemed to care and wanted to hear more.


Eventually, he invited me to go with him to a meeting starting not too far away. The meeting was just the first step Metro Man helped me make that night. He gave me information about a rehab and helped me meet other people who had found themselves at the edge of the cliff, holding on by their fingernails.


I don’t remember all the details of that summer; how many meetings I attended with or without Metro Man, how short the wait for rehab was, how long I waited before trying to find the stranger who had saved my life. I had this second chance because he took the time to stop and listen.


At the time I knew his name (many years of alcohol & drugs have removed it from my memory). I went back to the meeting we attended together and asked about him but no one seemed to know who he was or for sure where he lived. They weren’t even sure he had ever been back to the meeting since that night!


I managed to locate the building that he had taken me to that night to sleep and knocked on what I thought was his door. No one answered. Back down in the lobby I looked for names of residents to determine whether or not I had remembered the correct condo. I knew I had the correct building because it was where my mother-in-law had lived when I first met my wife. If I had been on better terms with her I might have asked her about Metro Man but we weren’t speaking and haven’t since.


I caught sight of the manager and decided to see what he knew. I quickly explained what Metro Man had done for me, how I wanted to thank him and that I wasn’t sure if I was remembering the correct condo. Mr. Manager proceeded to inform me that he had been manager there for the last 10 years and there had never been a man living in that particular condo. In fact, the woman who lived there was elderly, had never been married or had any children. He then told me that he couldn’t even remember a tenant with that name or fitting that description ever living in the building.


I continued to attend that first meeting and several others in the area, always hoping to hear about or see Metro Man. No one ever saw him again or could tell me anything about him.


Over the years I have come to realize that God has been looking out for me and must have a plan for my life. Whether you want to believe that God used a random mystery man or sent an angel doesn’t matter to me. I believe that Metro Man was an angel sent by God to keep me on this earth a little bit longer; thank you God for my Suicide Angel.

Fall Break

Our school district takes a week off in the fall and I am enjoying my break from the classroom.  Things are so topsy turvy right now I'm not always sure what direction I'm going much less what day it is.  People often talk of 'one door opening as another one closes' - what do you do when it feels like several doors are opening & closing all at the same time?!  It's not so much opening/closing doors I guess as it's blessings coupled with emotional chaos that is causing my mental frustrations.

Praise:
    >  Received almost double expected amount of financial windfall; enough to pay off most of cards, make down payment and put some in savings.
    >  Offer on house accepted; based on current rates payment will be less than current rent payment.
    >  Receiving monthly child support for the first time in 16 years.
    >  Finally got new bras today  - Mercedes decided to chew on the last two I had, making it necessary to get new ones ;>)

Prayer:
    >  JT & Kry not getting along any better; still feel like I am stuck in the middle and can't please either one.
    >  Emotional state of whole household is going downhill; have to get JT to counseling with me or just bite the bullet and make stand at home.
    >  Personal health (emotional & physical) suffering
        *  Depression interferring more often
        *  Pain in feet/heels has returned & not even exercising
        *  Pain in hands getting worse; some days hurts to hold pen to sign name
  
It's past midnight and time to get some shut eye.  I'm sure my life is no less chaotic then most; some would even say I have nothing to complain about.  My hope is that by putting these thoughts here, typing my rantings for all or none to read, calmness will find its way to the waves of thought that currently thunder in my head.

Why does no one seem to believe - I talk in order to relieve - I hope to find support - Instead I endure yet another report - of all my failures as a mother - hearing from one is bad enough - both becomes unbearable - don't yell at her he snaps - for telling Sadie no, as she pawed at the back seat - call psych for apt - call counselor about bringing S to apt, try to get Jt to go - he manipulates too - pray for me Lord, my heart is weary - carry me Lord, my legs are weak - Amen

Med update

*Warning this contains graphic physical/medical terminology*

I had an appointment with my obgyn a week ago and we have come up with a plan of action to address my concerns.  I went to her because I have had rectal bleeding every month for over 6 months; indicating the endometriosis has advanced to the point of breaking through the mucus layer in my bowel. I am worried that a blockage could occur which would then require emergency surgery and possible long-term problems.  We discussed several possibilities but settled a multi-directional approach.
        *I am to make an appointment with my psychiatrist and find out the possibility of increasing my cymbalts to help with pain management & recent increase in depression symptoms.
        *Dr. is going to check in to a new medicine that has possible benefits for me and dealing with the endo.
        *Dr. will request depo/lupron shot approval from insurance.  She wants me to get at least one shot before having surgery.
         *Dr. will perform surgery to remove final ovary and any endo possible.
         *Will go on HRT

My concern with this plan is the depo/lupron shot.  The major side effects for this are hot flashes, night sweats, depression, weight gain and sometimes thyroid problems.  Already have night sweats, have been diagnosed bipolar 2 (depression with periods of even deeper depression), have weight issues and a thyroid problem.   The purpose of the depo/lupron is to shrink the endo.  This is done by putting your body into artificial menopause and can be administered for up to a year.  Each shot lasts 3 months.  Dr. wants me to go through one 3 month treatmen in order to shrink the endo away from the bowel a little so she possibly won't have to cut as far into that area.  However, when depo/lupron is used it is more difficult to even see the endo; diffrentiated it from other scar tissue.

I don't want to put myself or my family through the emotional upheavel it sounds like this would cause.  I'm not sure I could continue working at that point.  So much to consider and on top of it all JT and Kry had another major blow-up last night.

The bell has sounded and my time is up - I must run before I turn into a pumpkin! :)  Actually just need to get in bed so I can get a few hours of sleep before the dreaded wake-up ring causes my phone to shutter violently on my bedstand.  Goodnight.

This deep abyss grows darker by the minute, my heart pounds as I sink deeper into this hell they call depresion. Please pray for the wayward souls that find ourselves here. Prayer comes hard at times and we need others to pray that we'll feel God's presence. Save us from ourselves...my head is pounding, my neck a taught bunch of muscels - I must try and get some sleep. Goodnight.

WIG...the nitty gritty

Welcome to my first Week in a Glance (WIG). I've decided on Friday's to try and post a quick recap of my week - the highlights so to speak.

Monday - work went as good as could be expected considering the wrench that was thrown into my schedule. I managed to rework things though and have the required groups of students, for the expected amount of time, receiving the leveled instruction they need.

Tuesday-worked out small kinks in schedule and prepared materials for new groups. Kry's back to school night did not go well. New principal leaves much to be desired in leadership and people skills. Am even more convinced we need to change schools. Hate to do that her Jr. year though so will not make decision until after visiting other school.

Wednesday- At work the new groups worked out ok, transition hasn't been exactly smooth but it is working. New principal of Kry's school was fired and old principal reinstated. Kry was unsure of possible new school, intimidated by size.

Thursday - took day off to deal with getting paperwork together for possible transfer but ended up meeting with new/old principal to get feel for what will be happening. District is going to form committee of parents, teachers and get student input for what to look for in new principal. New superintendant moved very quickly to rectify problem, admitting they had moved too quickly. Feeling much better about leaving her there - will stay for now and see how things are at semester. Mom in law dropped off printer, ink and paper - I have a printer for my classroom!!!!! woohoo!!!

Friday - TGIF. Work day went well. All groups ran smoothly and I think things will iron out and level off. Now just have to finish getting room organized to my liking and get the required testing done so we can get back to the academics. Kry's haired turned out very nice for homecoming dance. Mom still knows how to use a blow-dryer! Her emotional ups/downs are back and she almost came home early today but by time I saw message she was ok and willing to stay.

I like this feature - i can log my exercise. Like now we are taking an undxpected trip to exercise mercedes. This would be great for my other blog to log the random thoughts, memories and events as they come to me. Rather than the current method of trying to remember until the next time i am sitting at my computer. By which time i have usually forgotten the wonderful flow of words.

Just finished updating my blogger profiles and decided to try the mobil upload feature.

On the scale again...

My new exercise partner------------------------------>

I may not have gone to the gym over the summer like planned or try out any classes but I did manage to start exercising. The new addition to our family requires periodic walks around the block in addition to two or three longer walks. Although now that we can go to the park she generally only requires an evening jaunt. Tonight we went down to the river and walked the trails, stopping at a boat launch to let Mercedes play in the water.

I have started back to the gym. Kry and I went yesterday and will be going again tomorrow. I weighed myself to get another starting point and discovered I have lost weight. Thank you Mercedes! My weight, tonight, was 212 which means I've lost another 5 pounds since my last weigh-in.

It's past my computer curfew but had to post since it's been a while on here. I've posted some things on other blog where I post poems, prose, quotes and other misc. pieces I've written and feel like sharing.

I'll be back this weekend to share reflections from this week.

Oh, Endo!

Unlike traditional relationships-
Our marriage began without my knowledge.
There is no way to know for sure
When you came to lodge.

We didn't start like most -
There was no formal introduction;
No "how do you do" or invitation.
You just became a part of me-
Without my consent
Your presence unrequited.

Stabbing pain-
A knife digging deep
This, was your first hello
So many years ago.
Masked by the pain,
By the bane
Of every woman's existence.

This ebb and flow - Came and went
Through the years -
Bringing pain and tears.
Some offered hope-
eliminate the intruders'!

--Ahhh bliss!!
The answer found!
You I will not miss!!


Stabbing, twisting, turning - you let me know
I don't determinewhen you go.

But I insist-
This symbiotic relationship must end!
'Remove the host it's no longer your friend.'

This time it's done
We've gone our separate ways
I am free the bane
And your pain!

Hah! You say
Since when do you
Get your way?

I get it now -
This pain, this relationship
Hidden all these years
Unnamed, misnamed and unidentified
Our relationship finally revealed.

'Call me by name', you say
'Then you will be freed.'
I shout your name - "ENDO!!"
I hate your name - ENDO!!
I really wish you'd go - ENDOMETRIOSIS!!

Soul Mates

The knowledge of that magical image will last forever,
Forever etched in my mind.
Mind and body, heart and soul;
Soul mates till the end.
An image that created the magic we now experience.

Compassion & Grace

Compassion and grace
-You loved me when no one else would
You cared when all who could
Left when I stood.
My story told,
You took hold
And said "your heart is cold."

You showed me warmth
And shared its source
You fanned the coals
You gave me hope
Provided a rope
For me to cling

The fire is low
Please – I must know
Will it ever grow?
Will it blaze?
Will I be dazed?
Will I be warm?

WALLS

Image by watch4u via Flickr

The walls surround me

To high to see

To tall to jump

Can you lift me up?



The wall is thick My heart grows weary

I give it a kick My eyes are teary

Damn it's brick! The strength in my limbs

Slowly dims.

I see a shadow…



Who is it now?

Are you friend or foe?

A calming voice,

An offered hand

A Drop

Of blood –



I see it land

And the wall

becomes a set of stairs

I grasp the hand.

It's always there

Steady, ready, and loving

Gently guiding and reminding

He gave it all for me

Where does the time go?

Summer flew by like a tornado and the school year is off at a whirlwind pace and I'm hanging on by a thread; flopping around like a sheet on the clothesline. The last 5 years I've team taught the special ed learning center program at two respective schools. On top of moving to a new school, this year I am the only special education teacher at the school and am charged with the task of firmly establishing a learning center model for the school. I have 17 students on my case load ranging from mentally retarded (yes we still use those words in the special ed world) to learning disabled. The learning center model places all students in the general classroom for a portion of their day and they come to the learning center for specific instruction. In addition, any other students, even those who are not identified, come to the learning center if their academic needs can best be met by the level of instruction being offered. That's a rather rudimentary definition but all the more I want to go into at this point.


Besides myself I have two instructional assistants who are able to teach small groups during the day. It is my job to establish the schedule, determine what will be taught by whom and gather together all the necessary curriculum and supplies. Essentially I am creating two math lessons, two language arts lessons and providing specific intervention for 17+ students that all have learning disabilities. Basically, I've come to realize that age old reminder that 'you don't know what you have 'till it's gone'.

I wrote this on Wednesday and am just now getting around to checking/posting. I have felt several steps behind and am hoping to get caught up this weekend but it's going to mean sticking to my guns and not letting laziness take over. I need to set up a schedule - I'm thinking I'll read/comment on certain days and post on others; taking a day or two off. I know I'm not the only working mom who is blogging. '

How do you manage to fit it all in?

Many thanks and a huge shout-out to Tabitha for this Kreativ Blog award. This is no ordinary award - there are rules! Following are the 7 rules, next are the 7 facts some might find interesting about me and last but not at all the least are the links to 7 of the blogs that I follow.


Here are the rules for the award:

1. Thank the person who nominated you for this award.

2. Copy the logo and place it on your blog.

3. Link to the person who nominated you for this award.

4. Name 7 things about yourself that people might find interesting. (see below)

5. Nominate 7 Kreativ Bloggers.

6. Post links to the 7 blogs you nominate.

7. Leave a comment on each of the blogs letting them know they have been nominated.




Okay, 7 possibly interesting things about me...

1. Even though I haven't done it in years - I LOVE to sew and craft.

2. I'm the eldest of 5 who are 6, 8, 10 and 14 years younger than me which is why when my daughter reached 8 years of age I decided I would not have any more kids.

3. I played varsity sports, was a cheerlead, on student council, Miss M******* Princess, tried out for Miss Teen Washington, acted in several plays, and I am now a teacher; HOWEVER, I am an introvert.

4. I have been homeless two different times living in my car the first time and a tent the last time.

5. I love frogs but I have a really sad childhood frog story.

6. Two of my favorite authors in high school were Victoria Holt and Leon Uris. There were many more - this just demonstrates my eclectic taste. If it's a book I'll read it! :).

7. I am fascinated by geneology and am slowly working on our families lineage.



Next... 7 Kreative Bloggers... in no particular order.

1. Shark Bait's Reef

2. A Writer Wannabe

3. Building His Body

4. karen...following the whispers

5. That's Not Me Anymore

6. Where Romance Meets Therapy

7. Thinking Out Loud

Enjoy your award and keep on writing!

Peaceful

Today was the first official day back to school for our district. We had meetings most of the day and one of mine was with the principal. I am starting at a new school this year and hadn't had a chance to talk with RR (the principal). The hard part about this is the simple fact that I HAD TO MOVE!


My first year teaching was 2001 - this is my eighth year of teaching. I taught 2 years at the high school level. While there I moved classrooms in the middle of the year. I then moved to an elementary school where I stayed for two years. While there - I switched rooms. I then switched districts where I have been teaching for the last 3 years. While there - we moved rooms. This brings us to the present and my current move.


On the flip side - I'm excited to be given this opportunity. Another aspect of my teaching career is that I have yet to be 'in charge' of my own program. At the high school I was part of a department and they pretty much dictated what I taught. Since moving to the elementary level I have team taught with another special education teacher. The first two years I was the RSP teacher (learning handicapped students who are pulled from the classroom for less then half their day) and the other person was SDC (students spend 1/2 - all day in another room for academics). At both school we had a learning center model which means that all students are mainstreamed for at least a portion of the day. Some students come to the learning center for 30 for intervention type help while others may be in the learning center for language arts and math.


The school I am at now has only had RSP in the past but ran a learning center model in that the special education teacher also took general education students who were in need of the same instruction she was providing the her students. This year I will be bringing the first SDC students the school has ever had and begin running a complete learning center that will serve general education students through SDC students.


I've spent the week getting my room ready and have found myself stuck on stupid and wondering if I have bitten off more than I can chew. The room was more of a disaster than I had originally thought. There was a lot of stuff left in the room that I had to go through and figure out what was what. I didn't like the room arrangement the teacher before had so I had to move all the cabinets, bookshelves and file cabinets. Then I had to figure out where to put all my stuff.


It doesn't help that I tend to be a bit anal when it comes to organization. Similar curriculum should be group with each other. Sets should be in order, things labeled so you know where it all is and the room needs to feel serene. The atmosphere of a classroom makes a huge differece in how well students attend and learn. I try to create a warm, cozy place where they feel safe to come and be themselves. I'm trying to do that this year by using more muted colors, no bright wild borders and the flow of the room is smooth and open. When I have things done I'll post a photo - if I remember! :)


You may not be a teacher but we've all been to school and had a favorite teacher or class. What was it that made that teacher stick in your mind? Do you remember the decorations on the walls?


Time to sign off - more meetings tomorrow.

Who Am I

Who am I?
Made in the image of God
Designed uniquely
A work in progress
A mother by nature
Nurturing
Compassionate
Domestic
A free spirit
A tomboy in action
Climbing trees
Playing ball
Where's my Harley?
A woman through and through
Soft and sensitive
Sensual and sexy
Giving at the expense of losing self
How do they all come together?
They come together in me -
Take me as I am

Why?

Why am I awake, yet again, during the wee hours of the morning? I should be curled up under the covers enjoying a few more hours of sleep; instead, I sit hear typing in the dark about nothing in particular. I read several wonderful, thought provoking posts tonight and found new blogs to follow; if I knew how to link to them I would - I'll try figuring it out another time. One of the blogs made me stop and think about my reasons for doing this blog.


I have a blog on MySpace that I started a couple of years ago, I guess. I never did write much and no one seemed to be reading any of it anyway; then Facebook caught my attention. I now spend more time on Facebook and I can't remember when I last looked at my MySpace blog much less posted. So, why did I start this blog? Why does anyone start a blog? It seems to me that the foundational reason is to share what is on your mind with someone.


While lurking around I have seen blogs that are meant for personal healing, growth and/or gain as well as blogs that are meant to uplift, enlighten and/or educate others. That's the short list by the way and not meant to be all inclusive since it seems that the individual reasons could be as many as there are blogs on the net!


Back to the contemplation of my own reason(s). My purpose for the Myspace blog was to share some of the poems, essays and short stories I have written over the years and to begin writing again. This blog on the other hand originally started after reading several accounts of people using blogs to help them lose weight. In the stories that I read the bloggers found the support they needed to make the life changes necessary to lose weight and keep it off. This idea intrigued me since one of my complaints/excuses lately has been 'not having support from my immediate friends and family'. However, it wasn't long into my new blogging journey that I realized my reason is much less complicated.


I have words flying around in my head all the time that need an outlet. And no, they aren't 'voices'! :)


While riding in the car the other day JT and I were quietly listening to the radio; driving several miles without saying a word. It occurred to me that we don't talk much anymore; I mean really talk. You know talk about something more than the weather, the latest NASCAR race or what to have for dinner. I also acknowledged that talking would help to calm the storm that clouds my my mind so much of the time. But isn't that what my counselor is for?.


*light bulb*


That's why I write in my journal! A journal doesn't provide feedback, its unable to praise the successes, raise you up or even gently bring you back down to earth. Again, isn't that what my counselor is for? So, why do the blog? What is it I'm hoping to gain from this experience? Especially since part of my reasoning behind writing here instead of MySpace involves not wanting people I work with and other acquaintances on Facebook and MySpace to have access to my inner thoughts and life history. Not that I am ashamed of either one; I'm just not ready to 'let it all hang out', so to speak.


The reality is I am not only looking for a release but am looking for a path to healing. It's not a search or process I want to go through alone and as much as I love my counselor I am really good at dodging the issues. It's easy to dodge them while in a 45-minute session twice a month; it's a whole different story when sitting at home and the racing thoughts become overwhelming.


Thus, I write.


Even now, at 5:11 am, I struggle with the words to put down because they flit around just out of reach; muffled by those other words dying to come out, to be heard, acknowledged and maybe eventually forgotten or in the past. The muffled words are the ones I really want to hear and I know that once I get past this fog of flying thoughts things will clear up.


Why blog though? Why am I choosing to put these words out there for any and all to read? There's no skirting this one I guess, no matter how I look at it I come back to the same conclusion. I am searching, seeking. In the sharing of my writing I am searching for answers and seeking guidance. The pen (keyboard) allows me to express those things I have a hard time verbalizing out of fear. Why fear? Because to verbalize it makes it real and it means that your going to get a response. Not that I don't want to be responded to - I just want to be able to separate the two with time if needed.


Writing things down, in a sense, makes the reality of the words more real, raw. Especially here where your putting them out there for anyone who wanders by to read and provide a response. Hmmm, sleep will soon overcome me. The fog is turning to the thick mud of grogginess that is difficult to wade through and the thoughts have slowed. In short:


I'm writing to free myself of the pent up thoughts and emotions that have worked together to produce an insecure, overweight and emotionally detached person I no longer recognize. I'm reading other blogs to find or remind me of the answers I am seeking.


Why do you blog/write?

Summer is winding down

Summer officially ends for me next week as the school year begins. I have already started working in my classroom and getting things ready. Tomorrow will be the big move day as I try to figure out how to set up the room. I used an online tool today that allowed me to create several different set-ups until I settled on a couple. I'm hoping this will prevent my usual arranging process. Look, move, look, move again, look....I think you get the picture. We still haven't heard if our offer has been accepted for purchasing a home and I still can't figure out what is going on with the child support. I'm thankful to finally be getting something but I would like to know and understand how/where the money is being disbursed. Anyway, I haven't accomplished much of the personal improvement things I wanted to get done with the exception of keeping up this blog. I have managed to pick up some followers and thank you guys, I appreciate your comments, prayers and reading your blogs.


I thought I would take a minute tonight to give a little background so that those who choose to follow might understand what is behind some of my rantings. In a previous post titled Transformation I spoke of a particular incident that I beleive marks the point at which I 'changed'. Before sharing this incident I think it only makes sense to provide my background so that as I work to rediscover myself a comparison can be made.


I was born in Delta, CO and am the olderst of 5 children. Three brothers and one sister that are 6, 8, 10 and 14 years younger than I am kept me busy helping my mom when I wasn't involved in school activities. We lived in Pullman, WA until 1978 when Dad got a job managing 320 acres of yet unplanted orchard in the Columbia Basin area. When we moved there the school was only K-8; high school students had to go to one of the nearby (30-40 miles) towns. By the time my class was ready to enter high school our district had grown enough to start a high school. Our class had the distinction of being the first graduating class.


I was involved in outside activities from a young age. Mom had me in Bluebirds ballet, tap, gymnastics and swimming when we lived in Pullman. After moving to the Basin none of those things were available so I did 4-H. I learned leatherworking and horse training. In jr. high and high school I played the flute in band, sang in the choir, and played soccer, basketball and softball. I was a cheer leader one year for boys basketball and did stats for football and wrestling. I was a member of the Honor Society, went to the national level in the National History Day Contest, participated in several community theatre plays and was first princess in the local pageant. I was on the student council and became a Natural Helper (peer counselor). Oh, and did I mention there were 21 of us when we graduated and I think there were maybe 100 students in the whole high school.


On the home front our parents raised us in a strong Christian home. I don't remember very many Sundays we didn't go to church and Sunday School spilled over into the home. Ours is a simple faith really; the Bible is the inspired word of God and gives us a blueprint for which to live our lives. God created this beautiful world and sent His only Son Jesus Christ to die on the cross for our sins. "For God so loved the world that gave his one and only son, that whoever believes in Him will not perish but have eternal life." John 3:16 I accepted this belief at 10 years of age and tried to the best of my ability to live a good Christian life.


My eyes are drooping and I'm way past my own imposed 'curfew'. Goodnight.

Boobs

Yes, that's right I said boobs. We all have two; men and women. I bring them up simply because I decided to remind you all to make sure and do your monthly self-exam and if your over 40 then you should be getting an annual mammogram. I went for my first one six months ago. My gyno wanted us to get a baseline prior to hitting the 40 mark. I ended up having to go back for a second examination where it was determined that I had 3 cysts in my right breast. Just to make sure they were nothing to worry about I had to go back for a six-month follow-up appoinmtment. That was today's big event. As it turns out one of the cysts has disappeared and the other two have not changed so all is good and I don't have to go for another year. Whooohoooo!! It really wasn't as bad as I thought it might; not really painful at all.


So, I checked my boobs today - did you?


Dedicated to my loving Grandma Lowell and any other women who have succomed to breast cancer or have overcome it! CHECK THOSE BREASTS - YOU ONLY HAVE TWO!

transformation

I found The style. Network show Ruby this evening. I have watched one episode and the 2nd is almost over. This show she decides to have her friend Anthony, a fashion designer, recreate her room so that she would have more space. Also in the episode she is encouraged by several people to get rid of her dresses from past weights. In the process she realizes that in losing this weight and becoming a new person she must leave the old person behind. She made a comment about only knowing how to be a fat person, that was all she had ever known.


I want to figure out how to get back to the person I was before; rediscovery rather or is it really discovery. The difficulty is in figuring out when exactly 'before' occurred. When I walk back through the years searching for a particular point on which to focus I stumble across many events that could have been the catalyst. However, while taking this romp through memory lane I also realize that my weight issues have been influenced by my relationship with food only recently.


As a toddler I developed severe allergies that were not discovered right away. I spent many months very sick with ear infections, strep throat, etc. Mom has said that I was so sick for so long I forgot how to walk and had to relearn. Once it was determined I had allergies we began treatment with allergy shots and eliminated the food allergens; milk, dairy products and all nuts except almonds. My mother and I had a couple of food battle that I can remember and I think she has mentioned there were others. The two I can remember happened when living at the farmhouse in Pullman so must have been between the ages of 5 and 8. Sometime in my 4th or 5th year I decided that the only good food was grilled cheese sandwiches. It was all I would eat; breakfast, lunch or dinner. Mom would try to get me to eat other things but I refused; and won! The other time mom made borscht; a soup made of beets, onions, other stuff and sour cream. Don't get me wrong, I love beets! Even then I loved beets, boiled, fresh out of the garden. MMMMMM But borscht smelled bad, looked gross and in my opinion tasted even worse! Rule in our house was you ate what you were given or at least tried it. This particular meal borscht was the only item served so it meant going hungry. Mom knew me well enough to know that going hungry was not a problem and she wanted me to eat the soup. I had to eat the soup or I would just get it for the next meal. My dinner was served the next day for breakfast, lunch and dinner again; it remained untouched. I won again!!!


My dad began teaching me how to bake when I was six with chocolate chip cookies. Cookie dough is the best treat ever! Cooking and baking became something I enjoyed doing; especially baking. I wasn't allowed to bake much though. Mom has always been a health nut and sweets were for birthdays, holidays and once in a while. We often had things like brown sugar, chocolate chips, and Nestle Quick. I would sneak sweets whenever they were around. Mom bought things bulk from a food co-op which meant chocolate chips were in a gallon jar on the shelf with the jar of almonds and raisins. I would choose the almonds and raisins sometimes but more often I would grab a handful of chocolate chips. I couldn't tell you the number of times I can remember sneaking into the kitchen, slipping a spoon out of the drawer, climbing on the counter to reach the top shelf, prying off the top of the Nestle' can and savoring the powdery sweet chocolate as it melted on my tongue. I always managed to do these things without getting caught and I did it until mom quit buying Nestle' Quick.


When would I sneak this food is the next logical question or even why? The times that I can remember doing these things I was either bored, upset, had read an upsetting book or was having pre-menstral cravings. Then, when I was about 12 it was determined that one of my brothers was a hypoglycemic and our diets changed even more. Chocolate chips became carob chips, no more jam or jelly, no more soda, baked goods had to be made with half the sugar and half whole wheat flour. Thankfully I started babysitting about that time and was able to get my fill from others cupboards. Boxed macaroni and cheese, Skippy peanut butter (we always had Adams natural-no sugar), jam/jelly, pudding, jello, cake, pie, store bought pizza. I was in food heaven and I would take every advantage when it could be found. I think some of my regulars figured it out and even made sure there were certain things I liked.


My weight didn't become an issue until after I graduated and left home. The one event that may have brought about the changing point I am seeking occured during that year and will be addressed in a separate post. I have to get up in a few hours to get my boobs squished so need to get some z's. Goodnight.

Lord please help me discover those events, thought patterns or habits that need to be addressed for me to move forward. Guide me as I peel away the many layers I have used as a shield.

PAIN!!!

The pain is here! The stabbing shock waves make my insides feel as though they are twisting in knots while other stabs feel like I knife piercing through my body. Concentrating is hard because the waves of pain grab my attention, pull me in and take my breath away. I could tell yesterday that the cycle was beginning. True to form I have pain today and am constipated to boot. I decided since it was a new month I should actually take out my calender and check for any appointments. I knew I had one this month but wasn't sure then it was. Soooo, tomorrow is my 6 monthe follow-up mammogram. My first one showed 3 small cysts that the doctor wanted to keep an eye on. Hmmm, I'm having a hard time concentrating; have to take more pain meds. Goodnight.

Shoes

Shoes, what is it about shoes? I have never understood this fascination - is it developed or learned; is it possible you’re born with this innate love of footwear? That must be it…

“Mommy, can we look at the shoes?”

“This is a grocery store, honey, they don’t have shoes.”

“But mom, those are shoes,” as she points to the bin of flip-flops.

From the time she could talk she wanted shoes – it was almost her first word! Mommy…shoes. Even now, at 14, a visit to the mall is not complete without at least one stop to look at shoes. I hate shoes (hate is rather strong – I definitely dislike them) – wouldn’t wear them if it wasn’t required by health regulations. Comfort is always more important than looks; moccasins are perfect. Even Krystal takes her shoes off the instant she enters the house and only wears them when necessary. Necessary being the key word here since, when

taking out the garbage – no shoes

walking to the pool (down the block) – no shoes

going to the mailbox – no shoes

she knows she won’t have to get out of the car – no shoes

at Uncle Shane’s wedding reception – no shoes.

And yet, she always wants shoes. Where did this seemingly “natural” desire come from? I did all the right things to ‘train’ her. The first three years of her life were spent barefoot or in moccasins. Believe me she has other obsessions and I get those – they are my fault.
Motorcycles, for example, she loves to ride and can’t wait till she can own her own. (Me either!) I trained her well on this one – at three years old she was pointing out motorcycles (and old cars but that’s another story) while driving in the car. I knew I had done my job well the year we went to see Santa Claus at the mall.
She was four years old and couldn’t wait to see Santa. She had already figured out exactly what she was going to request but had refused to share with me; I didn’t want one of those real embarrassing Santa moments. She climbed up in Santa’s lap, smiled sweetly and when prompted politely stated,

“I want a Harley.”

“A toy motorcycle huh? What color would you like?”

“A Harley for my mom and me to ride, a big one!” she quickly exclaimed; correcting this misunderstanding of her request.

I beamed with pride – THAT'S my girl!

But shoes – why shoes?!

Precious Memories

It was just another one of those relaxed, nothing pressing to do days, that I had the joy of spending with my daughter, Krystal. What started out as a day of fun and games ended with serene joy. I now sit here reflecting on that day and all the new memories that were added and the old ones it brought to mind - memories that I will cherish when my little baby is all grown up.

Earlier that day we were playing a game of hide and seek and I had the pleasure of being the one to hide, of course. Keep in mind that my daughter was only one and a half years old; therefore, there was no counting or closing of eyes involved in our games.

The game began as I dashed from the living room, hoping that she'd give me a few seconds before she took off in hot pursuit. I ran through the kitchen, into the utility room and ducked quickly into the bathroom and behind the door. I've got her this time! She'll think I ran on through the bathroom and into the bedroom!

I stood there patting myself on the back until I realized that she hadn't darted by the bathroom door yet. The door was standing open with me lodged between it and the commode; my back to the crack in the door. Maybe I'll just turn and peek through the crack here to see if she's in the utility room. I slowly turned to look through the slit in the door and I heard the faintest little giggle. There, on the other side of that crack, stood a three-foot, thirty-pound imp peeking at me.

"I see you!!!" she exclaimed with laughter and triumph. I burst into laughter as she came around the door to "get me." She had turned the tables on me and used my 'clever idea' to her benefit. Unable to stop laughing I picked her up and held her close. While we enjoyed the moment of hilarity I couldn't help but think of the day that this precious little bundle of joy entered my life.

Unlike some mothers I don't remember her first cry or what she looked like as they took her to be measured, cleaned and diapered. Many times I'm asked "did you have a bad labor?" or "do you remember the pain?" I never know just exactly what they mean by the words 'bad' or 'pain.'

It's possible, when a person considers the facts my labor may sound 'bad' or 'painful.' I started labor at 11:30 p.m. the day before I was scheduled to be induced (she was already late). When I arrived at the hospital my contractions slowed significantly and they put me on pitocin, used to induce or speed up labor. After approximately twenty-four hours of labor my doctor decided that Krystal was not going to enter the world on her own, and I was prepped for a caesarian section.

My memories of that span of time prior to seeing my daughter are only facts; they don't include emotion or the physical pain. The emotion I remember began when I was being wheeled onto the elevator to surgery. I told my mother I was scared, and she asked, "Do you remember what I told you the last time you had surgery?" My mind flew back in time. I squeezed her hand, smiled with memory, and thought, I'll pray and before you know it I will have a baby girl in my arms.

The next emotion I remember is fear - my mind raced as I struggled against the restraints.

"Stop fighting! " someone yelled.

The light blinded me as I looked up in terror. I can't breathe!

"You need to relax and breathe!" came from beyond the light.

I'm gagging! Help me! I wanted to scream but I couldn’t. I tried…

Krystal Anne Bennett was born in the surgery room at 11:46 p.m. March 19, 1993 weighing 9 lbs., 10 oz and measuring 20 1/2" long.

Slowly I opened my eyes, the light shone with calm serenity while my body was heavy with exhaustion. Just then the nurse asked, "Are you ready to see your baby?" I nodded, closing my eyes in relief - it's all going to be ok. I felt the bed moving toward the elevator; we were on our way to the hospital room and my baby! I struggled to keep my eyes open, I have to see her before I go back to sleep, I thought, when I heard, "Would you like to see your baby now"? We had stopped in front of the nursery window and I slowly nodded my head trying to lift myself up, quickly realizing I didn't have the strength and my head was spinning.

"Look! There she is - the nurse in the window is holding YOUR baby."

I looked through the window, trying to clear the fog of exhaustion, left over anesthesia and pain medication; as my vision cleared I saw my perfect little baby girl lying peacefully in the nurses arms.

At that moment any physical pain that I may have felt was instantly wiped from my memory and replaced by overwhelming joy and love. The exhilaration of seeing my child, a perfect and innocent creation, is what will be etched in my memory forever. What often gets lost when asking about the labor is the reality that each precious moment spent with that beautiful child is more than enough to compensate for any discomfort I may have felt for a few short hours. To date (7/7/07) I have already spent 5226 days loving and caring for that precious bundle of joy. All the happiness and love that we have shared has more than made up for any discomfort I may have felt during those twenty-four hours of effort to bring her into the world. Each new day brings many more priceless moments that I add to that first memory. None of them, however, will ever be as vivid or as meaningful.

Quilts

My Aunt Babe passed away last year and left behind a legacy sewn into the many quilts she created over the years. She was an artist of extraordinary talent and this is my tribute to her.

Quilts


Tiny little stitches placed with love
Connect each patch
Of discarded flower sack,
Rare scraps of material, and
Unwanted men’s ties to become
A poetic scene-
History in each square.


Her heart gently sewn
Into every landscape
Her life poured
Into each story
A blanket of warmth
Sewn with tenderness
Meant to be enjoyed


They adorn the bed
Drape over chairs
Brighten each room with
Beautiful, vibrant colors.


Looking alone is to
Experience only
A portion.
Breathe… in the fresh clean smell
Feel… the textures that warm the fingertips –
Soft wool, crisp cotton,
Silk and satin
Envelop yourself
Like a cocoon.


Feel her hands caress
Preserved in her masterpiece
A portion her heart
Forever remembered
In the stitches that defined
Her -
Quilt maker
Extraordinaire

Incomplete musings...

My anger or lack there of...

Counselor comment today "wrong profession"; in reference to not feeling the ability to be completely open about beliefs, lifestyle, life choices, etc.

Maybe I need to learn how to be a better friend...

I always thought if I understood myself better it would help...

Food is my heroin...

Exercise becomes my cocain...

Finding balance is the key. Maybe I should try a 12-step program...

Puppy = joy, unconditional love, laughter

How do I find my way back to a church?

My new talent 'escape' artist...took 3/4 of my session today to actually get around to anything beyond a recap of life events since our last apt...

Asking for help = imposing upon another...If they wanted to help they would offer...

Am I just looking for excuses?

Action Plan

It's Tuesday and the end of the month is just around the corner, which means school will be starting soon. July is THE summer month and it's almost just a memory. I haven't accomplished much of what I wanted to get done but have accomplished things I hadn't even considered doing. My last major post consisted of a complete life/medical history to date. I did see the NP yesterday and have started the ball rolling so to speak. She agreed to send me for alergy testing. I'll get that done on Friday - I have to be without any allergy medicine for 7 days before being tested. This will help guide my 'diet' choices in the future. I essentially want to make sure that I am aware of any food allergies that might contribute to the overall health issue.


There are just a few basic things that need to be changed in order to have a better overall outcome. I need to improve my sleep, stress levels, exercise and eating habits. I've had a basic plan of attack in my head but have not confirmed it any way so lets see what it looks like on paper shall we?


SLEEP - getting to sleep is difficult and I rarely get any more that 6 hours a night. I function much better on 8+ and always have. I no longer have any excuses except my own stubbornness. There are several things that tend to keep me up late - putting things off to the last minute, browsing/playing on computer, watching a show, not feeling tired. As much as JT may hate it - I need to be on a schedule that provides me with more sleep. In part it involves managing my time better overall. There are certain things I want to do on a daily basis and in order to accomplish this feat I need to set time limits.



STRESS LEVELS - exercise & sleep will help. Try yoga and/or Tai Chi. Journal work stuff & create action plans. Save money for massages.


EXERCISE - Krys and I are going to work out after school each day at gym. Saving money for bike to ride with JT. Walk dog. Belly dancing.


Eating habits is its own issue to be addressed at another time. Other things I want to accomplish regularly if not daily are: reading, beading, sewing, gardening, writing, photography and blogging. These are all things I really enjoy doing but don't because I am plopped on the couch zoned out and feeling too tired to even think about doing anything.

Med outline for doc apt.

I'm breaking my own computer curfew but really wanted to get some things down. I'm going to the Dr. tomorrow, had to make the apt. to get my welbutrin refilled. Dr. Le didn't have an opening so I am seeing the NP. Krys saw the NP when we were trying to figure out what was going on with her this spring. She seemed nice and more thorough than Dr. Le. One reason I started this blog was to keep a better chronicle of my journey to better health. I've done this in written form but need to make an annotated outline for easier delivery. This outline will include both medically relevant events as well as major events that would have contributed to my depression.


Prior to 3 years of age I became very sick; repeated ear infections and strep throat. Was discovered I had alergies: milk & its products, all nuts (almonds ok), dust, mold/mildew and pollens. Received allergy shots until age 8. Allergy symptoms were sore throat, hay fever and swolen glands.

1976 - fell out of barn (compressed vertebrae, strained ankle)
- concussion (overnight stay in hosp)
- 1st surgery for mole removal

1977 - 2nd surgery for mole removal (had difficulty waking me up due to anesthesia)

1981 - (11 yrs) 1st menses Had bad cramps before any bleeding, heavy & 7
days

Menstrual cycle was regular, always 7-10 days (5 days of heavy), often took ibuprofen as well as heating pad to help pain. By 17 taking 1400 mg ib at a time - every 4 to 6 hours to control pain.

1988 - date raped

1989 - lft home, started using drugs (marijuana & coke; coke mostly)
- od on ibuprofen & marijuana; Joe had to keep shaking me to take breaths
- start trying other birth control - give up
Never received counseling/help for rape or drug use

1993 - emergency c-section (incomplete dilation after 24 hours and she was turned wrong) woke up during procedure, fought restraints, remember feeling panicked,lost a lot of blood, gave me one day to show recovery or would do
transfusion. stayed in hospital 5 days.
- Joe left

1994/5 - started school; divorced

1996 - had to leave home w/Krys to own place

1997 - We moved to Spokane
- started school
- car accident
- miscarriage (had to have DNC) blited ovum

1998 - Emotional & physical health began spiralling
- IBS?
- treated for depression w/ Zoloft
- received counseling
- started birth control again
- had sigmoidoscopy; couldn't get past first turn - to much pain
- 'sciatica' pain begins

1999 - GRADUATED!!!!!! Had to put something positive

2000 - went to CO (acupuncture helped)
- started on Welbutrin (helped)

2001 - Respite care after near break-down; thoughts of suicide
- 3 summer months camping, day labor & drinking/drugs
- move to CA to start over
- increase Welbutrin dosage
- start using sleeping meds

2002 - Put on Levoxyl for hypothyroidism

2003 - 4 fibroid removed through c-section cut; possibly 2 left but too small & couldn't risk more incisions

2004 - symptoms return; 3 more fibroid have made themselves at home

2005 - hysterectomy; uterus & 1 ovary. Left ovary and cervix. Endometriosis found on samples sent to lab
- started having spotting 3 months after surgery
- pain began soon after

2007 - Yeast cleanse; treatments from mom-in-law
- following Swarzbein eating/vitamin plan
- SouthBeach protein bars (have soy)
- start losing weight all over; hungry all the time
- Bowl movements slowly increase in number; flucuate between constipation &
diareah; eventually going as much as 10 times a day
- Mood becomes irratic, anxiety attacks, hair falling out
- try adjusting thyroid; didn't work went back to original dosage
- Colonoscopy; failed, could not get past 2nd turn; something seen - unknown
- barium enama; unable to relocate unknown object seen in colonoscopy
- CONCLUSION - endometriosis
- Pet/CT; cancer ruled out
- See psychiatrist and put on Cymbalta and Abilify for Bipolar2 disorder

2008 - Stop Abilify; causing muscle tremors
- By winter blood in stool is monthly occurance
- Paul passed away; moved

Possible tests to have done:
- allergy
- hormone
- thyroid (T4 & T3)
-Markers for gluten, dairy, egg and soy reactions, GI immune system function, marker for digestion capacity, marker for active inflammation of your intestines and cultures and other testing for bacteria, yeast, fungus and parasites.

Thoughts, events and emotions from the week...

While in the moment life seems to move at a snails pace and then while looking back you suddenly realize that those snails have been moving at warp speed. It's been a week since visiting San Francisco and the new, improved Academy of Sciences. It was very crowded and was sometimes difficult to see displays but it was enjoyable. What I did see was impressive and I look forward to going back during the week in the fall/winter months. The aquarium still has a lot of growing to do but is beautiful.


The rest of the week was spent looking at houses, taking care of errands and other mundane life tasks. The one exciting event for the week is that we made it through the first acceptance steps in buying the 'house of our dreams'. It is a short-sale and the owners have accepted our offer. Now their bank must accept our offer and then we get to start all the inspections and move forward with the purchase. This is the first time one of our offers has been accepted so we are excited.


During the week I have had many times where thoughts have filled my head of despair and loneliness but it is always after I have just gotten off the computer on the insistence of JT. Well, not really insistence, he just makes the comment that I have been on the computer all day - which I had. I've been spending a lot of time just looking at other blogs, trying to find some that interest me and also find some that might follow the same topics that concern me. If I'm honest with myself it's escaping really. It's so much easier to immerse myself in the lives, thoughts and images I encounter as I browse than to look within and explore the same. It's so difficult to open that door. I never really, cognitively accepted how well I am able to compartmentalize. It's a matter of safety really. Think of a pressure cooker for example. We had one growing up and I can remember asking my mom what would happen if the the steam release cap came off. At the time she was cooking beans for chili so she explained that the built up pressure would force the beans through the release valve, spewing them all over the kitchen like a volcano erupting lava. I chose to resist my urge to 'accidentally' knock off the cap at that point and went on about my business. The door behind which I stuff everything has this kind of pressure built up. Shoving it all in is easy - you don't have to open the door for that. It works more like osmosis I think, the outer membrane only allows one-way movement. The door is only used for release and to open it would release all the pressure resulting in an emotional eruption of cataclysmic proportions. Or so I tell myself anyway.


I found a blog yesterday that I decided to follow and today she had posted a scanned image of her diary from years past. One of the comments that followed mentioned that the they (the commenter) had similar thoughts but had never managed to keep a diary over the years. I must say I am the same. Once or twice I can remember starting a diary but it never lasted more than a week or so and I have no idea what happened to those diaries. The first time I really put any effort into a journal was when my ex left. Even then I kept more of a prayer journal than a record of my thoughts and feelings. I have never thought that anyone would be all that interested in reading anything I might have to write and putting it on paper also makes a person vulnerable. When it goes on paper it becomes real, you are acknowledging the existence of that thought or feeling. What if others find it, read it, what will they think? But really, who cares anyway? My own mother doesn't care about my feelings why should anyone else? Hmmm.


Where did that come from? She's my mother so of course she would care about my feelings! Growing up crying was not an acceptable form of expression unless it was justified. This was made clear by the frequently threatened statement: "if you don't have something to cry about, I'll give you something to cry about!" Not a veiled threat either, as some might think. My parents didn't believe in empty threats; spare the rod and spoil the child was accepted discipline. Not that we were abused by any means - please don't read that into my recollections. My point in all this is simply that you hear a phrase like that enough times you quit reacting, quit showing emotion unless it's justifiable. You only cry in the privacy of your room, in the solitude of an apple orchard, or into the fur of a loving animal. When your older, as a teen, you find a friend or two who are sympathetic and bend their ear a time or two. What is justifiable? When is it ok to cry you might ask? A physical injury (to some degree, drama is frowned upon also) is allowable. Crying after punishment is expected but don't over do it. Your feelings got hurt? Buck up - it happens to everyone you'll be fine. It didn't help that I was an emotional child (still am really) and cried at the drop of a hat. Since I never could manage to control the tears I just quit trying to express the reasons for my tears and I think somewhere along the way I just quit even acknowledging the feelings at all.


My weight is one of the issues that this blog is supposed to help me control. All these emotions that are bottled up and undefined have started to wreck havoc on my body and I am in need of help. My mother-in-law told me once that I needed to learn how to ask for help. I know how to ask for help - I never forgot that. No, instead I learned a new lesson, people are to busy with their own lives to care about mine. "You need to reach out, Comfort. Let people know what you need. They can't help if they don't know you need it. Tell them what they can do and they will help."


Whatever!! is the nice way I use to say BULLSHIT!!!!!


I asked her for help. She offered one of her treatments for trade, I do work for her and she gives me a treatment - that way I don't have to pay for it. She can't even remember half the time that I don't have a uterus anymore. I guess I'm probably the only one that remembers that fact all the time but if she's going to give me treatments then she should treat me like other clients and at least remember my medical history! What about your other friends you might ask. What friends? I have a lot of friends but not the kind that are able to provide support I guess. It's been this way all my life it seems. There have been periods here and there where I thought I had found that friend(s) that would be there through thick and thin and it just hasn't seemed to happen. There is not a single person that called me when my father-in-law passed away. No calls to see how I was holding up, no offers to help us move into his house so we could take care of him before he passed. I have gone to specific people and expressed my need for support, my need for a friend, given out my number in hopes that they might give me a call sometime. This is so pathetic, I sound like a depressed teenager and I'm 39 fuckin years old. 6 months and I'll be 40; a bit old to be crying for friends you'd think huh?! I have my counselor and JT but he doesn't always get it. Most of the time he doesn't get it.


This is when it gets really hard, the emotions are getting strong and I just want to bawl. At the same time I want the thoughts to stop so my fist instinct is to move to something else. That work, the bird distracted me. (s)he tried to eat JT's bugers indicating hunger so I had to pause and deliver the bird the it's cage. Just enough time to distract and get that door to slam shut again. I do need to get food for the puppy though and am going to take a break for a bit. I have to post again tonight!

Beneath the Golden Gate

Sunday afternoon in the park
Sand sparkles under the bright sun
While bathers bask in its warmth
Peeling off winter’s layers.


Families, couples, singles
Walkers, joggers, bikers,
sailors and gazers
Wander past.
Are they Coming or going-
Tourists or on a Sunday outing?
Picnic blankets and BBQ’s
Tossed balls, flying kites and
Frisbees fill the air.


As wind whips through the channel
White caps boil up from the dark
Green, brown and gray bay;
Dotted with brightly colored
Sailboats, parasails and kite boards
Criss-crossing the water,
Rising and falling
With the waves,
Tossed and turned,
By the wind.


Clouds drift across the transparent blue sky,
White puffs of cotton get tangled
In the golden trusses of
The vigilant bridge, as people
Pause and pose for the camera.
Hold your head this way
Lean on the wall just so,
Beneath the Golden Gate.


Written by ComfortWriter, 2008

One of many Personality profiles

Name: Carmen Bennett
Date: 7/15/2009 1:25:58 AM
Age: 39

Your health assessment
Your symptoms rank in the moderate category.
The demands you place on your body are almost overwhelming.
By comparison, the support that you give yourself is moderate.
What your assessment means
Moderate symptoms mean you are in the throes of hormonal imbalance. Hormonal imbalance can affect women of any age, although it is most common in women over 35 as they enter perimenopause or transition through menopause. Depending on the woman, this can mean months or several years of symptoms. Moderate symptoms in younger women are usually predictive of a more difficult perimenopause further down the road. It’s important to listen to your body now and respond with the support it needs.

Women with moderate symptoms who do nothing to restore their hormonal balance usually progress to more frequent and severe symptoms. You can take back your health and restore your hormonal balance naturally and without drugs, alleviating your symptoms. (To learn how, see your personalized recommendations below).

Very severe demands mean that your body is experiencing a much greater burden than most women, and this burden is overwhelming your ability to balance your hormones. Some of these demands are not within your control but it’s important to minimize those that are, and you may want to talk to one of our Nurse Educators about how to do so. In the meantime, it’s essential that you give your body extra support to counter this burden. Remember, the greater the demands on you, the greater your need for support!

Moderately good support means that you are giving yourself some support, but not the level of support you need for healthy hormonal balance. The good news is there are simple, natural things you can do to provide the extra support you need. Many women are surprised to learn that taking medical-grade nutritional supplements coupled with incremental changes in diet, stress management and fitness habits can go a long way in providing the support you are missing.

How we determine your score
Based on the answers you gave us, we use a series of algorithms to place you in categories based on symptoms, demands, and supports. The algorithms were created after reviewing, comparing, and grouping thousands of health screeners at our clinic with the outcomes our patients actually experienced. By using this information, we are able to make an individual program recommendation to you that follows the same guidelines that work so well for women at the clinic.

Our assessment of your profile
Most likely you’ve been feeling “not yourself” for awhile. The good news is you can turn it around, naturally and without drugs. We recommend you do a few simple things to balance your hormones and keep them in balance. To start, you should be taking a medical-grade multivitamin designed for women every day, as well as additional calcium/magnesium and essential fatty acid supplement. You may also benefit from phytotherapy, the therapeutic use of plants and herbs, to naturally coax your body into hormonal balance.

We also recommend some basic dietary changes such as minimizing simple carbohydrates, sugar and processed foods, and increasing your consumption of vegetables, fruit, and healthy sources of fats and protein. In addition, try to find an exercise program you enjoy and consider learning some basic stress reduction techniques. The women that we see in the clinic see steady improvements in the way that they feel when they follow these suggestions. These simple steps can make a world of difference in improving your physical and emotional well-being now - and keep you from having more serious problems in the future.

If these changes seem like a lot, remember that we’re here to help! It’s okay if you don’t make every change at once. Try to focus on a few that seem most accessible to you, and as you start to feel a difference you will have the motivation to continue making improvements. We’re confident that with a little guidance and determination you can feel better than you thought possible.

Your recommended next steps
Enjoy the benefits of the Personal Program for 60 days, risk-free.
Women with symptoms just like yours have found tremendous benefits from the extra support our Personal Program offers, including nutritional support that promotes hormonal balance.

Learn more about your symptoms and solutions.
Our website is filled with a wealth of information based on over 25 years of medical practice and research. Check out the underlying causes of your specific symptoms now, or explore our list of women's health articles.

Talk with our Advisors toll-free at 1-800-448-4919.
Want to speak to a caring woman who understands your concerns and can answer the questions running through your mind? Our Advisors are available to listen and to help, Mon. – Fri., 8:30 am to 7:30 pm ET. Please give us a call.

We're here for you.
Every woman is unique. That's why we help you personalize your Program to your needs. And every woman deserves answers that work for her. That's why we are available by phone or e-mail whenever you have a question or problem. That's how we're changing women's health – one woman at a time.

Yours in health,


https://www.womentowomen.com/assessments/hormonalhealth/freeprofile.aspx
Women to Women is America's leading medical clinic specializing in health care for women, by women. Founded over 25 years ago, we pioneered the natural approach to hormonal balance, and have helped thousands of women restore their health without drugs or side effects.

Dealing with death

Our story began on a sultry mid-August evening in 2001. JT and I had arrived in Sacramento several days before and I had already checked in with my new job, the reason we had left the fresh, salty air of Seattle behind for at least 4 years. I would be teaching high school special education English classes and school started in two days. We were broke, had already used the hotel vouchers we qualified for and I really didn't want to try getting ready for work in a tent. The last two months working day labor and living in a tent was enough!


I had completed all my errands for the day and we were hungry so JT drove us to a Taco Bell. While there we talked again about how he had not spoken to his parents, who lived in Sacramento, for a long time and how he had sworn to never speak to them again. We also discussed our current dilemma. We had learned that day that I would not receive my first paycheck until the end of September. We had already visited the welfare office for temporary assistance and knew that I would be getting a welfare check the first of September and we had already been given food stamps but we had no place to lay our head.


Suddenly JT's eyes welled up with tears and he quietly stated "My dad's place is right around the corner here. That's why I came out this way...I figure I need to swallow my pride and do what is right to take care of you. You need a place to sleep, shower and relax so you can do your job and a camp ground is not going to cut it. Come on, before I change my mind!"


Within 5 minutes we were pulling up in front of one of many duplexes on a quiet residential street in Citrus Heights, a suburb of Sacramento. The place we stopped in front of had two doors; the one on the left had a screen door and the door was open. I could see someone sitting on what looked to be a recliner, apparently watching television. JT nodded toward the open door, "That's Gerome sitting there, let me go in first and make sure he's decent, sometimes he sits there in his underwear! Plus, he added with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders,
I don't know how he'll react, he may just tell me to get out."

I watched with curiosity as JT walked toward the door. The idea that a father would not be overjoyed to see his son was so foreign to me that I was not worried we would be turned away. The man in the chair didn't get up but JT motioned for me to join him. I walked into a sparsely furnished living room that had all the signs of a bachelor's home. A small fan worked to circulate the air, providing some relief from the heat.


"Gerome, this is Freckles, my girlfriend. Freckles, this is Gerome."


"Nice to meet you", Gerome said smiling with an outstretched hand. His hand, hardened by years of hard labor, squeezed mine as I looked into eyes that sparkled with a sincerity that instantly grabbed my heart. I smiled back glancing down at hands that were more like paws; thick and wide with short fingers, like my dads. His ruddy round face was topped with salt & pepper hair cut military short leaving a person guessing at his actual age.


"It's nice to finally meet you too! I've heard so much about you from JT." Paul was somewhat at a disadvantage in the situation and he gave a quick glance to JT that spoke volumes. Smiling, I patted his shoulder reassuringly and stated, "it was all good!".


We stayed in Gerome's house that night and unloaded the Bronco of all camping gear and personal goods the next morning. Paul had decided we could stay as long as we provided food and paid him $200.00 when I got paid to cover increased costs. There were only a few rules: no eating in the living room, no smoking in the house and we had to help clean on Sundays. I started work the next week and things went well for the next several weeks. Paul and JT were getting along fine, JT had finally spoken to his mother on the phone and I was settling into my job.


One morning while preparing to pull out of the driveway I heard a news report on the radio - a plane had just flown into one of the Twin Towers. I slammed the car into park and ran in the house yelling, "turn on the news, quick!" Gerome switched channels just as the other plane hit the second tower. We sat, shocked, listening to and watching the event that changed our world.


That night I heard for the first time, many of Paul's political views, theories and beliefs. It was to be the first of many conversations that we had concerning the state of our world and politics. Not long after this though JT and Paul got into an argument. right after that we moved to a motel and it was quite a while before we saw Gerome again.


By December JT and I had found an apartment we could afford and would hole us and Kry. It was a one bedroom with good storage and we were on the list to get a two bedroom. Our plan was to go up to Washington at Christmas to get Kry and bring the rest of our stuff down. Paul had a truck and we considered asking him to use it but the relationship was not good enough yet in JT's opinion.


As the years progressed I slowly got to know and love Gerome. JT, Kry and I would often show up at his house on random days just to visit and he always welcomed us. By 2004 Gerome and I had developed a strong relationship and were able to talk freely about our pasts, JT's past and the past of their family as a unit. Gerome also shared one of his dreams; to bring his family back together before he died; he wanted JT and brother, Rudy, to get along and for both of them to love and respect their mother. He also wanted all four of them to be clean and sober; living life with joy. Gerome and I became allies in our efforts to heal this family unit that had been ravaged by the ugliness of alcohol and drugs. Soon we were having family gatherings and it seemed as though Gerome's desire for his family was beginning to materialize.


Late 2006 brought news that no one was expecting - Gerome had esophageal cancer. It was possible that it could be removed surgically but doctors had to do more tests first and determine the best plan of attack. That was the good news - bad news: he possibly had only six months to live. Gerome took the news in stride and determined to do what he could to fight but life had been good and he was ready to go. Ultimately he was given two choices: surgery (which the oncologist did not recommend due to Gerome's age and other health concerns) or chemo and radiation with possible surgery later.


The next year and a half was spent undergoing chemotherapy and radiation; the family and I watched as Gerome went from 260 pounds to 180 pounds in a few short months. He lost all his hair at one point and when it came back it was a beautiful wavy white that that was soft to the touch. By 2008 Gerome needed someone to drive him places, do his shopping and clean his house. The family shared responsibilities; Karen and I shared cooking responsibilities, Rudy and his wife Kira took care of the house and JT drove Gerome around.


Late spring, 2008, the doctors said that there was nothing more to do. Gerome had two choices left surgery or he could try more chemotherapy but there was no guarantee the tumor would shrink any more or that it would lengthen his life. The surgery would have involved opening his chest cavity and his recovery time would possibly be very long with no guarantees he would live past his recovery time. Gerome was still against the surgery but was willing to entertain the idea for our benefit and decided we should go to dinner and discuss the options as a family.


By this time we had all seen the movie "Bucket List" in which two men are given only days/weeks to live and they make a list of things to accomplish before they die. They then proceed to accomplish the tasks on the list. Gerome had created such a list and wanted to be able to do those things. The family shared that we wanted him to stay around as long as possible so he could accomplish those things and we would have more time with him. The surgery, in one respect, provided the most hope for anything more than 6 months to a year of life; however, we also didn't want to possibly see him spend a lot of that time lying in a hospital bed unable to go anywhere or enjoy life. What was the use of his list then? It was decided there would be no more surgery or treatment of any kind. The plan now was to do whatever necessary to keep him pain free and thriving with no resuscitation when it came to that point.


Summer brought lots of plans and things to do. JT and I were taking Kry up to Washington for her annual visit to my parents and planning on staying for a month ourselves. My parents were needing help getting some things done around their place and Kira and Rudy were in California to help take care of Gerome.



We had been in Washington for only a week when JT and I decided it was necessary to head back to California. Gerome had been admitted to the hospital on Friday July 4 and was not doing well. Rudy had taken him in to the ER because he had not been able to keep any food down and was becoming dehydrated. They decided to admit him to the hospital and schedule an x-ray or ct-scan to see if there was a problem with the stint in his esophagus. By Saturday they had determined that the stint had moved and needed to be replaced. The procedure was scheduled for Monday morning and Karen was concerned that Gerome would not make it through the procedure.

Paul couldn't go before we got there! I still had things I wanted to say to him, wanted to thank him again for, I just wanted more time. We left Sunday morning and drove straight through going directly to the hospital. Karen was there with Paul, not will to leave his side. Once we felt assured that he really was ok and we would see him in the morning we went home to get a few hours of sleep.


Break time - I'll finish later.