This post will be short because I am so weary and so very tired. Problems have already started with my step-daughter and her new baby. The things that are going on are worse that we had ever anticipated. We are  not sleeping. My husband is having chest pains and I am having heart palpitations. My stomach is in knots.  Child Protective Services is involved but that is just the beginning of the problems. As I said in my last post, I can't even begin to write it all down. And what can me and my husband do? Nothing. We can't do a thing. 

It is 7:15 a.m. and I am getting ready to go home and sleeeeeeeeeeeeeep.  I agreed to work another night shift because money is as always, tight. And maybe it is my way of escaping right now. 

So, yes.  Grand-baby is here but already the problems have started and I just do not have the time or the energy to write it all here. If I wrote for the next hour I would not get it all down.  My husband is having chest pains and I am walking around with a sick feeling in my stomach. At times I am shaking. Understand, that I am not trying to be  cryptic.  It is just that I don't know where to start.  It is the kind of stuff that needs to be shared over a cup of coffee (with Baileys) with the understanding that right now there are no answers.  There is a lot of sighing involved. The space between my eyebrows is constantly pulled together in a frown. I wish my mom was here. She would know what to do. She would.  My mom was wise. So, wise. 

To add to it all, I need to make some major decisions about my kids education. They are 15 & 17 and the education they are currently receiving is not working for them anymore. It will all work out but it is causing me much stress.  Actually, I don't know if it will work out. It seems each decision could be the wrong decision.

And that is my week. Too tired to blog. Working and working. Little wee babies who have no choices and grandparents whose hands are tied. 

Too tired to proofread this post. Sorry for not reading and commenting on your blogs. 

She's Here!

She came into the world at 5:00 a.m. this morning. She is just beautiful. She weighed 6 pounds 10 ounces.  She appears to be in good health. 

I am a Nana! 

(I am off to work, will write more later.)

The New Vagina Post

If you are like me, you will have been drawn in by that title. Be warned now that it is far too much information but it is interesting all the same. (If you are a boy don't read this and skip to the next paragraph.) Most of you know that I had surgery 8 weeks ago.  And almost most of you know that I use a Diva cup for when Aunt Flow shows up. Up until now I was forbidden to "put anything in there" . It turns out I have a new vagina. That is all I have to say about that.

This week I have been busy and have not been blogging. I am so far behind in reading posts I just have to start from today. Let me know if anything drastic happened in your life this week so I can go read the post. That includes but not limited to births, deaths, marriages, being arrested and/or incarcerated, broken bones, strains, stitches, hospital stays, murdering or falling out of a tree. 

Well, the party I voted for got in for my constituency but not for the province. There is no point going into how disheartened I am. On election day I did volunteer which was actually fun. A few funny stories. There was a little boy about 2 that came in with his grandparents so they could vote. He thought they had told him he was going on a boat. Poor little dude. That will probably stop him from every wanting anything to do with voting for the rest of his life. Imagine being 2 and thinking you were going on a boat then having your heart crushed while your grandparents vote. They were lovely people and I bet they took him for ice cream to soothe his heartbreak. There was another guy that freaked the fuck out when I took his yellow voters card. That is what I was supposed to do but he didn't like it. Maybe he thought I was going to mug him, I don't know.  Even though we had the lowest voter turnout in years I could not believe the diversity of people that vote. Business people, doctors, Hell's Angels, drunks, first time voters, veterans, pregnant women due that day, women with newborns that had a Cesarean and could barely walk, old hippies, young hippies, surfers, teachers and minorities.  There were people that turned up with no identification. The most amusing thing is how stereotypically polite Canadians are. Most people thanked me twice, once when going in to vote and then again coming out. Volunteering is definitely something I will do again.

My step-daughter's baby is due in ten days. Going to be a grandma really soon! Please pray or send good energy. If you have been reading my blog you will know why. We are quite worried. Worried but excited. 

Sad Cat Diary

Mother's Day

My mom with my sister, me and my brother.
1980

In honor of our Mothers

who have passed away

Another Mother's Day is here,
And I still miss having you near.
You were the best mom you could be,
And I never once doubted your love for me.

I could spend each Mother's Day in sorrow,
Crying and wishing you were here,
But instead I choose to celebrate your life,
A life I still hold so dear.

I know you'd rather see me smile
Than stand here with tears in my eyes.
So I'll do my best to honor your memory,
And you'll live on as long as I am alive

(OK, I will cry a little.)

Over the last few days I have spent, what seems like hours and hours in our yard. My body gets sore and tired quickly so I do the work in short bursts and then come in and rest. That said, I have loaded up 4 garbage cans of weeds. And as always with weeds, there are still a lot more to be done. I don't even know what I have done exactly but here are a few pictures.

This old toolbox was at the thrift store last week for a price of $20.00. Who would spend that amount on an old toolbox? I went back today and it was still there but without a price. The lady at the till gave it to me for $5.00 and I knew it needed to be loved by me. I brought it home and made it into a planter. 

This little box was also there. It looks like it must have been a high school student's woodworking project. Now it is a planter! 

A better view of the thrifted wheelbarrow, that is now...a planter!

My trusty gardening gloves. 

Chives.

Our yard. Another thing I did was built up the bed behind the swing with more large rocks and soil. Not sure what I am going to plant there yet. 

Today I also spread out the compost on this bed. Strawberries are already coming up and we will plant vegetables soon. 

And now I am tired and will go to bed but won't be able to sleep. 

My Low Self Esteem - Lite

"It's that all my life...everybody seems to be doing or catching on to things a second faster or better than me."

That is a quote from the move, Sister Act.  That movie came out in 1991 and when I heard Sister Mary Roberts say it it was if things I had been thinking about myself my entire life were finally put into words. Since then I have grown and no longer have that bottomless pit of low self-esteem but the more things change the more they stay the same.

Today I went to a training session on being a volunteer for as an Information Officer for our upcoming election. Trust me when I say it sounds more important that it is. First of all I was late because I got lost.  I had to go to the tourist bureau to ask for directions.  Twice.  Anyway, the session is going on and there were about 25 people there. The instructor was talking so fast. Everybody is knowingly nodding. And then there is me. "What page are we on?"  It also seems like everyone has known each other for years. My introvert self is hiding and hoping nobody will ask me a question that requires an answer to prove I know what is going on. We broke into groups and I went into my 'make them laugh' mode. It always works! But then the instructor comes along and ruins my perfectly fun time. I bungled through the answer. Meanwhile everyone else in the room has finished the quiz and I am still wondering what page we are on. Thank god for the woman beside me that had been an Information Officer before and showed me what the hell was going on. But yes, every person in the room had it figured out before I did. One thing that is good is when I figure things out it usually sticks with me for years. 

It has been such a long day. My body is exhausted. It feels the way you feel when you have just gotten over the Flu. I fell asleep at 8:00 but beloved came to bed and his snoring woke me up. I haven't missed my mom like this in months. But, I am so happy with her tree. It makes me happy that I have somewhere I can go to and sit and think about her. Since she was cremated and by her request her ashes have not been spread so I have had nowhere to go.

Today I cried and cried. It is a difficult thing, this being human. In our culture we do not like death and the emotions that go with it. We are told to be strong and, "never, never, never stop". It is bad to sit down in weakness and cry. Even the day after the bombings in Boston they were talking about "moving forward" and "healing". WTF? No! It is a horrible thing that happened and healing takes months or years. Sometimes healing never happens. I am sure for the families, there will never be an absolution or healing. 

We are broken vessels. We are broken from abuse, we are broken from parents who did a bad job, we are broken from teachers who told us we were stupid, we are broken because magazines told us we were fat, we are broken from churches that told us who god is and why we are bad and would never meet his standards.  We are broken from rifts in our family and friendships.

The bookstores has shelves upon shelves of books to make us better and fix our brokenness but usually only make us feel worse. Last week I picked up a book by a woman who had gone through an episode of depression for a year and is better now. What about the people who fight it everyday, the broken ones who get up every morning wondering if this will be a Black Dog day? A lot of us will fight depression for the rest of our lives.

Anyway, I am rambling.

My mom's death has left me broken. Her not being here hurts. Maybe just for today I will accept that I am broken and be OK with it. It is a good idea for all of us. We are broken and we don't need to be fixed. 

It is time for me to go back to bed.

Oh, mirror in the sky 
What is love? 
Can the child within my heart rise above? 
Can I sail thru the changing ocean tides? 
Can I handle the seasons of my life? 

 Well, I've been afraid of changing 
'Cause I've built my life around you 
But time makes you bolder 
Children get older 
I'm getting older too...

Happy Birthday, Mom

Today my mom would have been 67. My day started with tears. It seemed they were there before I even woke up. I decided I need to do something today to make the day a remembrance of her so I went to the nursery and bought a new tree. This one is a Magnolia tree. 

My daughter added her sparkly rock. Unfortunately  you can't see the sparkles in the picture. I added the blue marbles to signify our tears. There have been a lot of them. 

My son has loved frogs since he  year old when he received his first frog. He added some of his favourite frogs. One is a frog with wings and the other croaks when you walk by it.

I added two candle holders  My mom loved to sing and sang lead in a woman's chorus. And she loved family. For her, the hardest part of dying was saying goodbye to her beloved grandchildren. Her happiest times were when she was spending time with them.

Every birthday needs balloons. I had purchased 4 but one accidentally blew away.  Maybe it is in heaven now. I just hope when it gets there she knows it is for her. I am filthy in this picture because I just finished planting. As my mom used to say, I look like the Wreck of the Hesperus. Bonus points to you if you had a parent of grandparent that said this silly saying.

We all filled out a card for her and I left it at the tree. I miss my mom every single moment of every day. 







Happy Birthday, Mom. 

Gardening and Grief

"Life is so very difficult." That is what Norbert said to me when I asked how his day was going. When I pressed him as to what he had done he told me that was his own personal private business. He yawned and went to sleep. My suspicion is he did nothing today. Again. 

It is a bit of a sad week. My mom's birthday is tomorrow and my nana died 9 years ago on the 6th. Her death doesn't pinch like my mom's death does but I sure do miss her. She was a great Nana and she and I were very close. When I think of her now I do not think of her in death but in life and all the fun we used to have.


The picture to the left if the tree my husband planted for me a year after my mom died. The damn deer came and destroyed it. We were hoping the tree would come back but I think it is done. If you can see the garden frog by the sign you will see that his eye is chipped. My mom was walking through the garden centre beside her work one day and bought him because she felt sorry for it and knew nobody would want it.

We planted some lavender today.  Have I mentioned that lavender is my favourite? This is Spanish Lavender.

This old wheelbarrow was sitting in a scrap heap at a thrift store so I grabbed it and planted Marigolds. You can see in the background there is more lavender, but a different type. There is also Trillium that is from my husband's mom's garden. I never met her because she died 3 months before my husband and I met. 

I also weeded. A lot! Two huge garbage cans full. I just weeded last week and I am not really sure where all the weeds came from. We are slowly winning the fight with the invasive ivy. Today I pulled a lot out that was between the neighbour that taps and our yard. 

This is our other cat. He is 17 and his interests are sleeping and eating. And eating. He likes to pretend that he is old and feeble but if you throw a cat treat he moves like a fucking cheetah. He loves to eat. He also likes to pretend he can't get on the bed but we decided that we weren't going to help him anymore then all of a sudden he could do it. He wanted me to tell you that he likes to eat and would not turn down cat treats is you want to bring him some. 

...resting on our swing. I scored the swing for free. He will spend the summer here. He will not move if someone else wants to sit on it. 

Other than my arms being scratched up to bits from weeding it was a good day! 

 Bluebirds of Happiness. I will thank you for not mentioning how filthy my window is! 

A Middle of the Night Post

It is 2:42. And yes, I am awake. Last night I had my bath and by 8:00 I was so tired. My daughter, the poor lamb was curled up in a ball on her bed with cramps and had fallen asleep. I ran her a hot bath and gave her some ibuprofen and went to bed to read but I couldn't hold up the book. My C-Pap was on and the light was off so I guess I decided to just sleep. And yet again, it is the middle of the night and I'm awake. oh well

My great great great grandmother.

Yesterday I went to our family history library and eeeeeeee! I had so much fun! The people there were as excited as I was about geneology as I am. It was cool because I was able to teach them some things about doing a search but they were able to teach me even more. I had always been under the impression that the library and the archives were housed in the same place. It turns out not to be the case. And they turned me on to more resources for checking my family's past. In the field of geneology I am considered to be advanced, just a step down from expert but I am always, always learning new things. 

OK, I have had my toast and milk and I am going to try to go back to sleep. 

Zinga!

Hot flash a few minutes ago so I have taken my laptop outside to post. A mosquito flew by and I killed it. I deaded it!  Don't mess with a woman having a hot flash!  Incidentally, and you can ask my husband, I have a super power when it comes to killing mosquitoes. There was once when I killed something like 18 in one night. I can just grab them out of the air. Lighting fast speed. zinga! Dead. I think it is one of the reasons my husband married me. 

This week (the 5th) would have been my mom's 67th birthday. If I sit and think about it I feel sad. Very sad. So I don't think about it. Maybe that is how we get through grief. Just trying not to think about it. The thing is, it isn't her birthday or Mother's day or Christmas that get me really sad. It is having a hot flash and dyeing my hair purple and she is not here to share it with me. It is the everyday stuff. The things I *do* think about. Her birthday is easier to put aside. But the small stuff. That is the stuff that gets me. The hardest part is not having a woman in my life. You know, a woman who is part of my tribe. I think that is the reason I love blogging. You are all part of my tribe. You, oh wise women. I sure do love all of you. 

Now I am freezing again and wrapped up in my robe. Still outside. 

It was a fruitful endevour at the library today. Aside from the multiple street people using the computers for the free internet it was a good trip. Today I found the year that my grandfather came from England. I knew he was born there but up until today I had no idea when or how he got to Canada. It turns out he came here in 1926 and landed in Halifax. How he made it to British Columbia remains to be seen. This may seem so insignificant but this is gold for a genealogist. Tomorrow I am going to go do some more research and see what turns up.

Purple!

Aren't I the rebellious one?  Purple!  I went with purple! Actually, it is not that drastic and so I am happy with that. Right now I am in the library doing some geneology research and I thought I would take a break. What better thing to do than blog. Taking a picture with my webcam. Bad idea! My sound was up and I think half the library heard when I took this picture. OK, I have to go. The library is not the most private place to blog. 

Stay Tuned!

I did it!  Today I stopped by my hairdresser just to get a consult and she was able to take me right away so I decided to go for it.  The foils are still in because I want it to be a little more vibrant. Are you wondering what colour I went with? I will give you a hint. It is a colour in the rainbow. You will have to check back tomorrow to see. Eeeeeee!  

You're So Vain!

My husband is watching the political debates. I am putting on headphones because it makes my tummy hurt. It is in knots after watching it for a few minutes. Maybe it is my Utopian beliefs that we should all be able to get along if we just sit and listen to one another. It seems all politicians want to do is make their views known, thinking they have all the answers, rambling on and on and never listening to others.


You had one eye in the mirror
As you watched yourself gavotte...


Let's face it, the majority of debates could be worked out with everyone giving a little and getting a little. Of course, there are times when you do no compromise but for so many issues politicians need to zip it. Stop. Learn. Understand. Think about it. But, obviously I have my head up my ass. And who am I to judge? I have an NDP sign on my front yard.

Feeling Dauncy

The days seem to all blend together sometimes. Such has been the last few days. Not feeling 100%. In fact, I would say I am feeling dauncy.  Dauncy is from I Love Lucy. Lucy said dauncy was a word her grandmother made up when your not really sick but still feeling lousy. I am definitely feeling dauncy. 

You know what I want to do? I want to dye my hair. Something bright, like pink or blue or purple. But I can't because my job requires some sort of professionalism. Going in to care for a person who is dying with bright pink hair isn't probably the best idea. I wonder if I can just do my bangs? Maybe. Or maybe I am too old. 

I also want to get another tattoo. A crow this time. (I already have Snoopy and Woodstock.) Or maybe the infinity symbol.  Or not. No, I do. Most definitely. But again, working in palliative care precludes some things and pink hair and large tattoos is one of them. You may be thinking I am wrong but there is a certain respect that needs to be given to the dying.  Tattoos and pink hair frighten the older generation. meh I don't know. What do you think? 



The last few days I have been postless.  Sitting down to the keyboard my mind is empty. What is there to say? I made chili, my daughter's laptop is broken now but thankfully under warranty, my head has been pounding with a headache for three days, I found an unbelievable deal on outdoor ceramic pots that were even in the colour I wanted and I found a keyboard on sale for our desktop computer. That is it. *sigh* Oh, I also put my oven on self-clean because I have not done it in 2 years. 

It has been 5 1/2 weeks since my surgery and I am a little surprised to still not be feeling well. My incision sites hurts. Though improved, my plumbing is still not working 100%. When I discussed this with my gynecologist she said that it might not improve anymore that it is now. If you really want to know the details let me know and I will tell you. For now, I will spare you TMI.

I just read an obituary for a lady that died 2 weeks shy of her 100th birthday. If that was me I would be furious. She must have been so excited!  Like, "Holy shit I am going to make it to be 100 fucking years old!" But nooooo. God deads her instead. Life is truly a bitch. 

Tap, tap, tap ad nauseam

Well, I put an NDP sign in our front yard today. It should go over really well with the neighbours.  So far, we get along famously with all of them. We all know politics can really piss people off. Ah, oh well. We are really, really hoping the current nit-wit does not get in again. I can't even look at her face without getting angry. She reminds me of one of those miniature poodles that women carry in their purses. Looks cute but in the end it is just a lot of shit and yapping. She may call herself Liberal but she isn't. OK, I am stopping now. 

This morning I forced myself up and had a cup of coffee and some ginseng. I didn't feel as tired today in the beginning of the day but now I do. And a little sad. Things that I can't mention here.  Not Black Dog stuff...just sad. Ah, well. Such is life. 

For a year now our neighbour has been tapping. It goes on for hours every day. When he and his wife bought the house they took down an old fireplace. It was just made of those grey cinder blocks, not antique or anything special. He is taping the mortar off. We are not sure why but we are going fucking mad. What is really weird is we thought they were going to flip the house because they don't live in it. No, all he does is come to the house and tap the bricks. I shout to the Universe, "Why, dear god, why?" There are many things that go on in my small life but it is going to be something like that incessant tapping that is one day going to send me over the edge. 

Today I went to my follow-up appointment with my gynecologist. It is apparent that I am going to need more time off as my lady bits have not fully healed. The sutures are still there and other things are still going on that I won't get into.  She is now saying May 16 as the date for back to work. Partly, I am so relieved because I am still sore and so tired but I am stressed about money. It will all work out I guess. 

Well, it if official. I am growing a beard.  While going to pick up my kids this afternoon I reached up to scratch my chin and there was a fucking  hair. Not just the normal peach fuzz but a course fucking hair that stuck straight out.  As soon as I got home I ran to the bathroom and sure enough there it was. I ripped it out immediately. I should have known that as soon as I got my hair to all one length that something like this would happen. This makes me believe that surely God must be a man because no loving female entity would allow this kind of shit to go on. This time next year I am probably going to have a full beard. Am I going to become a woman that walks around with hair on her face and just not give a shit? One day personal appearance just gets to be too much and I will just throw in the towel and give up wearing deodorant, shaving my legs, waxing my eyebrows and colouring my hair? I will have to start weighing myself at truck scales. A team will have to come to my house to bathe me. They will have to wash my beard because it will have all sorts of shit in it. My grandchildren will be terrified of me and my beard will make them cry. It is happening, my friends. If you keep reading this blog long enough you will see.

I got my hair cut today. After my mom died I got it all cut off.  It was really short and I looked like a boy. A boy! It was a dreadful and awful haircut. It was a humiliating haircut. It has finally grown out to all one length so now I just need to let it grow for another 6 months or so and it will be how I want it to.

 Lesson - Don't cut your hair when you are in crisis or grieving or you will look like a boy. 

And don't get your hair permed. 

And don't brush your hair out to see how big it can go after getting a perm. 

Taking up half the love seat.

Today the Ungrateful Bastard got out and was across the street sitting in a patch of bluebells. This being is favourite time of the year is especially embarrassing. He spends all of his escape leaping and bounding like a ballerina. Sometimes he throws in a twist. The thing is, Norbert is a huge cat. Last time I weighed him he was close to 14 pounds. He tries to leap and bound with grace but it just doesn't work. He brings shame to cats everywhere. I imagine all the other cats in the neighbourhood bullying him and it makes me sad. I have thought about sitting down with him and suggesting he tone it down a little but Norbert is his own cat and wouldn't listen anyway. 

It was a nice warm day today and I spent most of it being tired. Beside taking myself and my daughter (that despises me) to get our hair and eyebrows done, I went to get a few groceries and fill a prescription. As I do every Monday, I changed the sheets on the bed, cleaned the bathroom and did some laundry. It is so exciting being me!

Norbert singing, I"m Too Sexy for my Fur.

My beloved just tried to feed the Ungrateful Bastard and he refused to eat it.  It is chicken and turkey dinner but he doesn't like that flavour today.  Do you see what I am talking about? Do you understand why he is called The Ungrateful Bastard? He is now moping in the living room. 

More Ivy...Just a Little Tired

What is it with cats and boxes? 

The whole family was out working in the yard  today.  My boy was sawing stuff and breaking up the front bed. My daughter (with eyes a rolllin') was weeding. My beloved was...I don't know what he was doing but he was doing stuff and I was pulling the never ending supply of invasive ivy. It seems like all I blog about when it comes to gardening and my yard is pulling ivy. I do love my yard though. Ivy aside, it is a wonderful yard full of worms and spiders and iridescent beetles. So far, no snakes which is very disappointing.  If I could, I would buy snakes and release them into my yard. 

Yesterday I started taking Ginseng.  Took it again today and remarkably, I don't feel half bad.  Aunt Flo is here again and she makes everything suck but all things considered I feel OK. Fortunately, I have chocolate on hand and that keeps her from going postal on everyone.  Even after working in the yard for an hour I don't feel like I want to go have a nap.  Not going to get too excited though. It could just be a good day. 

Just as we came inside it started pouring. The wind is blowing and all my wind chimes are sending out splendid sounds.
  
Oysters on the menu for tonight! Yum!

Looking for Feedback

I have mentioned this many, many times before.  Everyday, I am so tired.  I can't figure out what it is all about.  My doctor had ordered every blood test under the sun and everything is normal.  My thyroid is low but I am on medication for it. I take supplements. (Fish oil (high quality from my optometrist), Vitamin B Complex (100mg/mcg.) with Folic acid, Vitamin D (3000 IU) and a multi vitamin.  Everyday I take an anti-depressant (Cipralex 20mg) and the aforementioned Synthyroid (.05 mg). 

My symptoms are extreme fatigue no matter how much I sleep I get, difficulty losing weight despite following Weight Watchers, muscle aches, brain fog, difficulty concentrating, hot flashes and irritability.I am considering adding Ginseng and Magnesium to my supplements to see if it makes a difference. I will not take Hormone Replacement Therapy as I truly beleive this was the reason my mom had Ovarian cancer. (For those of you who are new to my blog, my mom died in September 2011 after having O.C for 6 years.)

The reason I am not rushing out to my doctor's office is because I have done it before. In fact, I have been to more than one doctor and it is always the same. "Here, take this ant-depressant." My current doctor is the most understanding and has gone out of his way to try to find out what's wrong.  

So, I am going to start asking other women their story about what has helped and what hasn't. Maybe the answer is I just have to live with it.  There are a lot of books and information on the Internet and it seems this is very common. Is this peri-menopause? Chronic Fatigue Syndrome? Am I just lazy? 
Now it is your turn.  Please tell me what has worked for you! 

Anti-social

Tonight I went to see my kids in a play.  The play was fantastic but I really hate crowds.  Normal people sit and talk to other people during intermission.  I sit in my seat during intermission staring straight ahead, praying that nobody speaks to me.  At the same time I am trying to take deep breaths to ward off a panic attack.  This is not normal and I know it.  It is a joy and a pleasure to see my children in a play but I wish I just did not have to leave the comfort of my own home in order to do it. 

It seems my anxiety is higher than normal right now.  I found out I have to go back to work next week and I know I am not ready. My stitches have not even dissolved yet.  Yesterday I was weeding in the garden and still cannot bend and stretch. And I am tired.  Still tired. Always tired.  No matter how long I sleep I am still tired.  What is wrong with me?

Tomorrow I am going to try to get up in the morning and not go back to bed.  Two books are waiting for me at the library and maybe I will go to Reiki.  Tonight I ordered some books on Chronic Fatigue Syndrome from the library so maybe I will figure something out about why I am so tired.  Or not.  Probably not. 

3:17 a.m. Pacific Standard Time

Yes, it is after three in the morning and I am awake again. I had a nightmare that I could not shake so I just got up for some toast and a glass of milk. Nightmares.  They can leave us feeling paralyzed long after they have ended.  In this one I was in one of the houses that I grew up in.  It was the house I was living in when my panic attacks were at there worst. I would literally be unable to move and would end up wetting my pants.  After, I would sit in my urine soaked pants and have to wait until the fear and panic would pass.  Then I would take my humiliated self to the bathroom and clean and get changed them put yet another set of clothes in the wash.  My god it was horrible.  Anyway, in this dream I was living back in this house but I was holding my daughter as a baby.  The house was so dark I could not see.  The TV was on but there was no light coming from it. Voices came through the TV telling me all the ways a woman can be raped.  In the dream I finally got up to turn lights on but none of them worked.  The phone rang and it was my ex-husband.  I wanted him to come and get me but he wouldn't.  I hung up the phone and thought that Gary (my now husband) would come and get me and that is when I woke up.  Right away I snuggled into his back and he put his arm around me.  I could not get back to sleep so here I am now, blogging about it.

When I was growing up my panic attacks were debilitating. The thing is, I never told anyone because I didn't know that they were not normal. Or maybe I did but my shame prevented me from telling anyone.  I wet the bed well into my teenage years because if it. My mom and dad were always supportive and never shamed me. My mom or dad usually got up and helped me change my bed.  Do you know how awful it was wetting the bed at 15/16 years old?  As I went into my 20's the I no longer wet the bed but the panic stayed.  It changed the way it hit me.  Panic is nasty like that. It morphs just when you think you have a way to figure it out. It changed again and again in my 30's and now 40's.  Now it is something that sits on the fringes of my life. Always there.  The Black Dog of Depression waits with it. They are a team.  But they do not know that I know them well and that I am stronger now.  I know how they work.  I make sure I get a lot of sleep because I need more than most people.  I meditate, receive Reiki and do yoga.  No longer do I watch the news or watch scary TV shows or movies. Once when  was in my 30's I watched a movie called Wrong Turn and I had nightmares for months afterwards.  I have also educated myself on being a Highly Sensitive Person  answering all questions on the self test in the affirmative, except one. I have also educated myself on Sensory Overload. And of course, when all else fails there is Ativan. 

It is sad that my son now has panic attacks but I am glad that he has me as his mom who can teach his how to deal with them.  My daughter, is one of those people that seems to glide through life, rarely getting upset or stuck.  She shakes he head at me and my son but tries to understand and he supportive. My husband. Thank for my husband.  He is the only human on the planet that recognizes my panic about to set in before I do.  Last week we were out for lunch and he knew we needed to leave because it was getting to be too much for me.  Usually I can last about 30-45 minutes before I need to leave a public place like a restaurant.  Malls are less.  Maybe 10 minutes if I am pushing myself and it is not that busy. Mostly I avoid malls. 

The thing is, I like the way I am.  Yes, I get overwhelmed easily but I also have a deep spirituality. God, whoever he/she/it is has a strong influence in my life.  When I came to this earth the spiritual umbilical cord was never severed. Music, especially classical moves me very deeply. The written word sends forth life to my weary heart and brain. (That is the reason I read blogs.) I love art and nature.  My happiness does not come from thing. (I do love my hot tub though!)

If someone could tell me that I would never have another panic attack again but I would have to give up my inner life I wouldn't do it.  The two go hand in hand.  Why?  I have no idea.  It is just the way it is for me.

Well, the nightmare has abated and I think I am ready to go back to bed.