Archive for the Ramble Category
The DragonLady doesn't like crowds. That's why she doesn't do concerts. Crowds freak her out. Also, she doesn't like to pay the price concert tickets cost these days. But you know what? I went to see Fleetwood Mac last month paying way more than I wanted to pay for tickets in the rafters. Prior to the beginning of the show, I would look at that and get that feeling in my stomach as if I was going to pitch forward and fall to my death. Because I also don't do heights. That's my "this is too high" face. Note that we weren't all the way at the top but close. Once they came out and started playing, though, I did not notice the height at all. It was a heck of a good show! I sat there singing along with every single song as only someone who has spent a LOT of time listening to Fleetwood Mac can do. I screamed. I yelled. I was surprised I could talk the next day. [caption id="attachment_2316" align="aligncenter" width="960"] Dreams unwind. Love's a state of mind.[/caption] [caption id="attachment_2317" align="aligncenter" width="600"] Tusk[/caption] They were so fantastic! Lindsey Buckingham didn't leave the stage until just before the encore, and then just during the drum solo in World Turning. I know he is the youngest member of the band, but he is still mid-60's rocking a 2.5 hour show. This was the finale, which I obviously didn't take from the rafters. Someone with much better seats than I took this. Also, I used up my free space recording Gold Dust Woman. Which I haven't uploaded.
Pain is baffling. It is pretty dang frustrating to spend several years trying to get healthy, changing my entire lifestyle through exercise and a healthy diet - and then getting sober - to find myself struggling with chronic pain. I even went so far as to question my sanity. After all, how many health issues can I share with Petra before I begin to wonder how much is in my head. On the other hand, when I really think about it, I can see that the issues started way before we ever met. And since I don't believe in coincidence, there must be a reason why we were put in each other's lives. And yeah, I over-think and tend to over-dramatize. Whatevs. Talking to a couple of friends last week, I wondered aloud if maybe I've had this pain for a while and just didn't know it because I was self-medicating. It was pointed out to me that because I have been sober for over a year now that I would naturally be more attuned to what is going on with my body. So I started thinking back trying to find a time in my life when I was dealing with a lot of pain, and in my very late 20's and very early 30's, I had a lot of knee, back, and wrist pain. The Air Force doctors and physical therapists couldn't find a reason for any of the pain, though it was said that the wrist pain was likely pre-carpal tunnel. I realized that I stopped having so much widespread pain when my drinking ramped back up. I did a little internet research and a study was done on a connection between fibromyalgia with depression and alcohol use. While the study was not to be taken completely conclusively, it showed that low and moderate use of alcohol tended to lesson the fibromyalgia pain. I went back and forth between high moderate and low heavy drinking. This could have had an impact on my pain level. Petra says my symptoms scream fibromyalgia, and I had some pain last week that definitely fit that category. My dad claimed to have nearly every disease or disorder known to man. I know he had allergy problems and Type II diabetes. I remember a couple of times hearing him say, "I think I have depression." I do not doubt that at all. I also have heard him talking about his recovery from his ruptured appendix, and he described an incident that sounded exactly like I feel when I have a panic attack. He also claimed to have "myalgia." It's a broadstroke disorder of muscle pain. Fibromyalgia falls under that broad disorder. And as I connect dots again, my mother-in-law told me that he had a problem with pills for a while. If he had pain like I have pain, I'm sure he did have a pain pill addiction because at that time he had a highly technical and physical job that would be hard to do while in chronic widespread pain. Last week I found out something about my dad's childhood that I never knew. I didn't get great detail nor did I ask for more detail. I learned what I needed to know which explained why he acted the way he did. He had a really rough childhood. The one aspect of it I never knew was the one that I was able to take and finally feel connected to him. Sadly, nearly 8 years after his death, but I understand. I have friends, family, programs, and mental health support that he didn't have. Not that he didn't have support of friends and family. Especially family. But I have been granted awareness that he was either never granted or chose to remain in denial. And so, I think it is no coincidence that I find all this out now - after I'm sober. I know where I stand with fibromyalgia if that is indeed the reason for my pain. I also am acutely aware of my self-destructive and addictive tendencies. Okay, maybe not acutely. But aware. I don't want pain management. I want pain elimination. If elimination is not possible, well, I suppose that will be another blow to my self-reliance. ;)
Last week was one of those weeks where there was just too much. It's been a while since I had a panic attack. I had 2 last week. I guess maybe I needed a reminder that there is no such thing as an instant fix for one's issues that are so deeply rooted. I had gotten pretty confident that I had finally grown up emotionally, and then I talked to my mom, and she largely couldn't talk back. She would try, but then get frustrated when she couldn't say what she was thinking and say, "I'm just crazy, crazy, crazy!" I wanted to argue and yell, "NO, YOU'RE NOT CRAZY!" But I know the futility of arguing with someone who has lost the ability to reason and retain. So I would just say, "You know, it's okay. It's going to be okay." And it is. It just doesn't feel like it. I had a uterine ultrasound the next day. I made light of it because I really wasn't overly concerned. In fact, I was hoping the results would show the need for a hysterectomy. Turned out to be 2 benign ovarian cycts. And must be on the left because I don't think he ever found my right ovary. I thought at the time that he couldn't see it because the wand was puncturing a lung and my ovaries aren't that high. Not that I exaggerate. ;) But all joking aside, as I was laying there I felt the beginning of the first panic attack. I got home to find no one there, and in a few minutes the rest of the family returned from a trip to Lowes picking up a new dishwasher. James kept asking me questions as he was swapping them out about what we did when we installed the original. "I don't know. All I remember is we fought." He kept asking and I kept giving that same answer because even though the circumstances were completely different, I was freaking out inside over the memory. Finally he said, "This isn't like last time, and I'm not going to yell at you." I responded, "I know. You're sober and I'm sober. But I never dealt with that event." I finally managed to calm down enough to switch out the wiring which, ironically, was the thing that turned the original install into such a huge fight. And everything went so smoothly. It was amazing. Yet, I still showed up to a meeting with my sponsor later in a panic attack. And thank goodness we were meeting that night! But then the next day, I got double-teamed at work and told to grow a spine. I turned right back into an emotional 5 year old and shut down. Another thing happened the next day at work that triggered another panic attack on the way home. I remember thinking then, "I'll wake up with a migraine tomorrow." I did get to meet the Fonz that night which was just too cool. It would have been cooler if he'd held my hand like he did Petra. Just sayin'. And sure enough, I woke up with a migraine. I had an appointment Saturday morning that I wasn't going to let a migraine stop. It was something I didn't want to do, but I could come up with no good reason not to do it, and God didn't close that door. We had agreed on 45 min. I thought that would be too long, but we talked for like 3 hours. I don't think I have ever felt that comfortable being that open and sharing with someone I barely knew. We both agreed that it was a God thing. To top it off, though I hadn't yet taken anything for my migraine because I didn't want to be half stoned out while there, there was no pain that whole time. I had trouble with speaking words, but that's not unusual. After I left though? My head nearly exploded on me. Especially when I stopped at Food Lion. Another God thing. And yesterday morning, I stood in the shower and broke down. I had that huge ugly cry that I needed last week after talking to my mom. I wondered at the time even as the sobs wracked through my body why I have such a hard time surrendering to grief and sorrow to this day. Why can't I let go and be vulnerable around other people and especially my close friends and family? I mean, I know why. But why do I hang onto it after it had long since stopped being useful? I know the answer to that too. It's frustrating.
January is practically over. Where has the month gone? I mean it seems like just yesterday I was complaining about how long it was taking to get to January 20. That is another post that I might eventually finish and publish. Aw, what the heck. That was my 1 year mark. 1 whole dang year sober. I deliberately didn't do a 2015 goals post. No sense in setting myself up for failure. That isn't to say I don't have any goals, but I know some of them aren't going to happen until spring. Like running consistently. I did, however, run New Year's Day morning. I did another run on my own and then did a run with Karyn like we used to do back in the day. You know, I knew I missed running with her, but I didn't really realize how much I missed it until that run. And I got to see Molly again! It was a short visit, but it was so great to see her face to face again. I'm back with the worship team at church. I had really missed playing and singing with them, and, well, it just seems like more fun now. Probably because I'm not so stressed out in general as I was for a while. Jamie has her driver's license and her Granny's car, so I have a go-fer now. And she drives herself to her appointments. And takes Chad and James to theirs. And makes me carsick when I ride with her. So now she can get a J-O-B. So can James. And Chad. I successfully completed my chiropractic treatment plan. Oh man. It is so nice to not wake up with a headache every single day. Granted, I woke up with one this morning, but I've been sick all week, and it's not just my head that hurts. Anyway, I only have to go once a month now. On the subject of fewer appointments, I have mentally and emotionally recovered enough that I only have to see my therapist every 3 weeks. She really pisses me off sometimes when she tells me what I don't want to hear...or address. ;) Speaking of addressing things, my diet. Ugh. It got bad over Christmas and subsequently so did the pain in my joints. And I got so glutened. So I will be cooking today in an effort to reduce the processed food I am ingesting. And saying no to candy, though I would like to know what I did with the Dove bar I bought last night that seems to have not made it from Lowes to my house. Amber is pregnant again. That cat is such a ho.
This has been quite a year. I did not even accomplish half of my goals for the year. Life got crazy! For most of the year I was not only the only one in this house with a job, but the only one with a driver's license. That wore me out and sucked up a large amount of vacation/sick time. But Jamie finally got her driver's license, so the pressure is off to be everyone's chauffeur. Oh, and we also only had 1 vehicle for much of the year, so I was still on the hook until we got another car. I got my nose pierced. And I want to get my eyebrow pierced now. I also want a couple of tattoos, but that won't happen until Petra gets inked. My mom had a mini stroke. Adding that into the Alzheimer's mix, she now has 3 distinct personalities. 1, she is still Mom, but has trouble saying the right words. She knows who you are, but can't say your name. That's the stroke effect. 2, she is still Mom, but she has no idea who people are. Thanksgiving, she would forget who the kids were, and thought I was Aunt Pearl. That's the Alzheimer's. It's sad, but expected and fairly easy to deal with because she retains that same kind and loving personality of my Mom. But then there is that 3rd one - the paranoid delusional one. This one knows who I am, but thinks people are out to get her. This one infuriates me because she is nothing like my mom. Intellectually I know this is another aspect of the Alzheimer's, but emotional detachment is not so easy. The contract I worked on ended, and we switched to a new one with a new company. I got a 4 week paid staycation out of it which was great for the first 2 weeks. Those last 2 weeks, I was calling the security office nearly every day asking if my stuff had transferred so I could go back to work. And the first week back, I filled in as site lead while the site lead was on vacation. 4 weeks of nothing and then a week of everything because I was the only one left with working accounts. I still don't want to be site lead. Oh, and I took a 10% pay cut. It hurts. But I love my co-workers. I was forced to admit that I'm an alcoholic. By forced, I mean I was told I needed to quit for a while and I couldn't. For those who don't already know. Assuming more than 3 or 4 people read this blog anymore. Once I did the 3rd step, I realized I essentially rededicated my life to Jesus, and decided to get rebaptized as a matter of owning my faith as my own. And I am 11 months sober. One day at a time. Throughout the year while working on my recovery through therapy, and through a 12-step program (which a LOT of people could really use), I have learned a lot about myself, and have come to terms and dealt with issues that I had never dealt with. I have grieved, and I have forgiven. I have learned to accept responsibility for my actions and reactions, and how to ask for forgiveness. And I've learned a few things along the way. 1. Life is more peaceful when you cease to be a victim/martyr. 2. Other people are responsible for their own choices and therefore their own consequences. 3. Life isn't meant to be lived in isolation. 4. Trying to live up to a manufactured facade of other people's expectations (real or perceived) will drive you insane. 5. It is okay to feel. Emotions are God-given. But let them be indicators and means of healing rather than living by them. Life isn't sunshine and roses. You take the good, you take the bad.
I ran into a friend at Starbucks last week. "You look tired." Well, at least I looked like I felt. It was another one of those days that the alarm went off and I thought there was no way I would be able to get up. But I did, after only hitting snooze once, and was even a little bit early to work. Would have been earlier had I not had the conversation in Starbucks. I think I told her, "I need a wife." But really what I need is another licensed driver and a second vehicle, and that won't happen until after Thanksgiving. Next day a co-worker told me I looked like crap. Again, I looked like I felt. Pretty sure I am burnt out. I've been burning the candle at both ends for a long time. It's caught up with me. I wake up as tired as I go to bed. It's like I've hit the wall. I did something I didn't want to do and stepped down from the worship team at church for a while. I didn't give a time frame, but right now I am thinking a couple of months. I'm counting on Jamie getting her license and giving her Mom's car to drive to take some of the pressure off of me to take everybody everywhere. At the very least, she will be able to take herself to her appointments. That will be less time I have to take off from work which means less time I have to make up at work since I am in the hole for leave and will be close to the max I can go in the hole after Thanksgiving. Anyway, back to the worship team, it's not like it is really that big of a commitment. I was only doing a couple Sundays a month. But, over the past 3 or 4 months, I haven't had the time nor the energy to put in the practice time I needed to. In turn, as much as I LOVE playing and singing with the band, I felt unprepared. And the last couple Sundays I played I couldn't even keep the songs straight. Especially that last Sunday. Losing my place in a song is one thing. Playing the wrong song is a whole different thing. I am mentally exhausted, I am emotionally exhausted, and I am physically exhausted. Perfectionism has run me into the ground. Thinking I have to know everything, do everything, and be perfect at it has beat me. That constant feeling of not being "good enough" or "strong enough" or "doing enough" has had a heavy toll.
I don't feel like writing anything. I'm tired, I feel like crap, and I'm pretty sure it's ebola because I'm not pregnant. And that is why you don't Google your symptoms. I would say it's the flu if I actually had fever. Working was difficult today. With an install team there on a system I've been identified as the backup admin for, I had to actually pay attention and do stuff. And a class kicked off today too, and I had to do some stuff for that. Not much, but at one point I was doing something install related when I got handed a list of students to check for accounts, and then the phone rang. In fact, my phone rang a lot today. It was crazy. Anyway, I nearly shut down at that point, but my coffee combined with a lack of food had me going full speed. And I couldn't find my debit card this morning. That's the way to start a Monday off right when you discover it's missing as you are trying to check out at Walmart. I found it later. In.My.Purse. I don't even know why I can't seem to relax. I don't feel stressed, at least not emotionally. I did snap at the hubby earlier, but I didn't want to hear a bunch of bitching over and over about the same thing. That may be because I'm still a little irked over something he said yesterday while he was hangry. On a good note, I don't have any appointments this week. Yay! I mean, I have rehearsal Thursday night, but it doesn't really feel like work when I'm doing something I love. Not that I don't like my job, and my chiropractor, and my therapist. But talking about feelings is really hard, driving to Cary for chiro sucks after a full day of work (actually, it's the drive home from Cary that sucks so bad), and 8-9 hours of working is, well, work. 3 hours of playing guitar and singing is fun. I got some watercolor paint over the weekend. Something I haven't dabbled in since high school. Would like to try my hand at it again.
I've done a lot more reading than writing lately. Obviously. In fact, I just finished a book that stepped all over my toes with regards to my character defects. Most of those defects are rooted in my childhood coping skills that I hung onto well into adulthood. Or maybe I should say "hang" instead of "hung." It's an ongoing battle. I like staying in my comfort zone. Like probably isn't the right word. It's more of a love/hate thing. Monday afternoon I was sitting on the front porch reading when I saw a van slow and then turn in our driveway. My thought was "Crap! Jehovah's Witnesses." I ended up wishing it had been Jehovah's Witnesses. It was a Kirby sales team. I let that young man do his demonstration though I had no intention of buying a Kirby. I don't care how good it cleans, even if I could drop that kind of cash for a vacuum, I will never buy a Kirby. There is a reason why, and I'm not going to digress into that. But the team was really nice and didn't overly pressure me. And I was definitely outside of my comfort zone the entire time. I read a blog post Wednesday that picked at some old childhood wounds. Rather than stuffing and burying, I let myself feel the pain that I never let myself feel. It wasn't comfortable. In fact it hurt quite a bit. But I am looking at it differently than I used to. Rather than wallowing in self-pity, I let myself feel the pain in order to heal. I grieved the childhood I didn't have and the relationship with my Dad that I didn't have. Instead of asking "Why did that happen to me," I simply told myself "Yes, it sucked. Feel the pain, and then let it go." I saw a friend later on who told me I looked like I needed a hug. Oh, yeah. I did. I gradually felt better as the day went on because I didn't focus on how I wish things had been, but rather accepted how things were. Most importantly, I don't have to let that crap dictate who I am. Today I am ok. I'm not pink cloud happy, but I don't want to ball up in a corner and bawl either. Ok, maybe a little, but ain't nobody got time for that. The comfort zone isn't really all it's cracked up to be. There is no growth and more discomfort trying to maintain comfort. There is no real peace. There is no life. So step out of the comfort zone and start living.
I really should have sat down and written last night when I had things to say. Or at least made a note of what I wanted to write about like I suggested to Petra. Haha! But in my defense, I was sick as a dog from the flight back from Arkansas. But Enterprise hooked me up with a sweet rental car: I almost didn't make that trip. I really didn't want to. I didn't want to face my mom's health issues because avoidance is my default action (or inaction as it were) when I can't practice full on denial. But I plucked up the courage to do it anyway. Oh my word. Her short term memory is completely gone. She had a stroke while she was in the hospital recovering from pneumonia (and she has COPD), and while the memory issues could be attributed to Alzheimer's, her inability to say the right words is not something she had prior. It was hard. Hard to listen to and watch her struggle to get out what she wanted to say, and hard to figure out what she meant. But she gets around fine, and I wore her out! Because that's how I roll. ;) She's in the nursing home for rehabilitation, and they let me check her out and run her around. I took her to the Veteran's Walk of Flags by the hospital first. We did not walk the whole thing. But my cousin Sharon was interviewed later that day while she was there: Flags Flying for Veterans In Morrilton Today It is such a beautiful and humbling display, and I feel honored that I now have a flag among so many others. I am so very grateful to Sharon for making sure all the Eoff family veterans got flags. Then we went out to the Bishop family reunion and I didn't take a single picture of any of my family. :( I did take one down at the creek: Because the reunion isn't just complete without a walk down to the creek. It was the thing to do when I was a kid, and it still is at 44. Not that I got off the bridge because the possibility of falling and getting wet doesn't appeal to me anymore. Mainly because I didn't want my phone ruined. haha! But I had a great time, and didn't get glutened. Mom seemed to know everybody and that was great! I had a good talk with my sister-in-law even if it was short and kept semi on the down low given what I shared with her. And throughout the weekend I got to have really good visits with family and a couple old friends and my mom's neighbor. And then after I dropped Mom off Saturday night and left the nursing home, I drove around town and bawled. Now, I don't like to fly, and have been terrified of flying since 1999. So as I drove up to RDU to leave, I thought I would try a little something different than I normally do. See, normally the DragonLady doesn't get on a plane sober. Granted, last summer I flew sober, but I was a wreck the whole time. This time, drinking wasn't an option I was willing to entertain so I prayed and asked God to remove my fear of flying. You know, it worked. I was not at all scared coming or going. Even with the turbulence and thunderstorms around Charlotte. And no, I didn't ask God to give me a good rental car. That was pure bonus. hahaha!