Destination Happiness

I was wondering today about the exact moment I fell out of love with him. Then I thought about that saying, “fell out of love.” It isn’t really like falling. Falling implies a fast movement when it is actually a slow, agonizing process. I think it is more like being hit by a bus. It hurts like hell but then you get up and cross that street again. The next time you have to cross that street you look both ways, always aware and cautious of your surroundings. But one day you get lazy and the bus hits you again. It hurts like hell, it takes a little longer to get back up, but you do. The next day you decide to take another route, hoping that the bus won’t be on that street. For days, weeks, maybe even months the bus is nowhere in sight. Then all of a sudden, “Bam!” it hits you. Funny, though, it doesn’t hurt as much as it once did. You get up, shake yourself off and keep walking; walking like your feet are covered in molasses. Finally you stand in front of the bus, daring it to hit you, just so you can kill the love that hurts so badly. I have been standing in the middle of the road for quite a while now waiting to be hit by that damn bus. That is until I realized that I could get on the bus, get the hell out of town and move forward with my life. I just hope it is not the short bus!!

I'm Coming Home...

I write a lot about my past in this blog, probably because I am trying to relive happier times for me or maybe to gain some introspect for my current situations. Either way I know that I am not really in a happy place right now. I miss my family fiercely. I long to be closer to them. I believe that being near them will bring me back to my happy place. I don’t think that I will be running from my problems; simply running towards the people able to support me emotionally. I have never allowed my family to know the true me. I am not sure the reason for this. But now I want them to know me, love me and be with me.

For me it has always been about wanting a man in my life; someone to love me and support me. Unfortunately I have not chosen the kind of man that is able to do this and I don’t blame them. I need to love and support me before I am able to choose a man that is capable of doing the same. I need to love and support my family before I can be truly happy. So, family, if you are reading this, and I know you are, I am coming home. Not just to you. But to me!

Dream Analysis

When I was about four or five years old, at the most, I had a nightmare that has been embedded in my mind for my entire life. I always wondered if there was any meaning to it. It must have some meaning rooted in a deep seeded fear. I have analyzed every moment of it from time to time all of my life. I have not decided exactly what it means.

I was playing with a tube of lipstick and my mom warned me not to make a mess with it. I am sure she thought that I would try to apply the ruby red lipstick on my lips. I, on the other hand, began rubbing it along her carpeting. As I rubbed it harder and harder the tube ignited and fire shot across the room and down the shared hallway of her apartment building. When the blaze burned out my Nanny lay helpless at the far end. Two paramedics were raking up blackened leaves while they shook their heads from side to side. I ran to my Nanny as she lay on a gurney. In a weak, almost inaudible voice she repeated a solitary word. “Why?” Paralyzed by fear, I could only look sadly into her eyes. I had no explanation for hurting her so.

I have concocted a couple of theories regarding the meaning of the dream. Maybe I had, or would, hurt her beyond any imagination. Perhaps I would disappoint her so that she would be heartbroken. I suppose I did break her heart many times during her lifetime. But the way I imagined she would be the most heartbroken was if she knew how I longed to be with my mom. I loved my Nanny deeply but my deepest desire was to live with my mom. In my imagination the fire emanating from my tube of lipstick was my burning desire to be with my mom. The blackened leaves represented the ashes of my Nanny’s broken heart. I wonder if, when I did leave her home to live with my mom, she was as devastated as she was in my dream. I hope that she knew I loved her deeply and that she forgave me for my perceived betrayal.

Laugh in the Face of Despair

I have written about having panic disorder a couple of times but I have not told much about being diabetic. Growing up I had never known anyone suffering from this disease. I never thought that it was a serious condition, until I became diabetic four and half years ago. Now I know that diabetes is a real bitch! It can kill you if you do not take care of yourself. I get discouraged by my condition but then I remember my Nanny and the debilitating illness she had, Multiple Sclerosis (MS), and the way she survived the hand Mother Nature had dealt her.

When I was a young girl her illness was quickly escalating. I remember her walking with great effort, using a cane to aid her, using a walker to get around, confined to a wheelchair and finally completely bedridden. Through all of the indignities, my Nanny always had a smile spread across her sweet face. One of my favorite stories she told was when she was working one day and had to leave early. When I asked her the reason she responded, with a hearty giggle, that she has shit herself. She said that it had oozed down her leg to rest in her pantyhose just above her ankle. Then she broke out in laughter just remembering the event. Now, if this had happened to me, I would never have been able to return to my job.

One time we had finished running errands in our town and were returning to her car. She stopped about fifty feet from the car, unable to go any further. She held on to a phone pole and announced that she was about to go down. She slithered down the pole while she exclaimed that she felt just like a wet noodle. She did show some signs of embarrassment when I suggested that I ask our dentist, who had an office one hundred yards from our location, for his assistance. She obviously did not want him to see her in distress; this from a woman who wasn’t embarrassed about messing in her pantyhose. This experience would be recanted many times by her and our family.

No matter how badly she felt or what indignity her disease offered, my Nanny’s coping mechanism was laughter. Today I vow to become more like her by coping with my illness by laughing in its face. Her life, laughter and love shall carry me through the difficult times.

Panic Button

As I have mentioned I suffer from panic disorder. They come upon me fast and lately I have had them when I wake up every morning. People ultimately ask me what the catalyst is for the panic. Was I afraid of something, did something happen just before the attack or was I in a stressful situation? My answer is always that nothing triggered the panic. When the attack begins I am usually feeling calm and peaceful. If I knew the cause of the onset I would develop a coping mechanism. I have pondered the cause for years and I am still unsure of the catalyst. I do, however, know the exact reason for the feelings to escalate.

I have an overwhelming, irrational fear of dying. When the attack begins the symptoms mimic physical distress. My heart races, my breathing seems shallow and I usually have some type of pain. My incoherent brain is convinced that I am suffering a heart attack or maybe even a stroke, depending on the location of the pain. I try my damnedest to rationalize my thought and reassure my crazy head that it is just a panic attack. At times I am able to allay the fears and calm myself down. Other times I find another outlet to deter my thoughts. Then there are those times when I make a complete idiot of myself. Those are the times that I am left embarrassed and ashamed. How do you explain the circumstances surrounding these attacks? How do you tell people that you are afraid to die, especially when there is absolutely no physical ailment? Do you think this makes me crazy? Because going crazy is yet another fear I have when I am having a panic attack. Perhaps the catalyst to my panic attacks is ME!!

Thinking Positive

I enjoy my job, on most days. As with any job, however, I do get a bit discouraged, and of course irritated. I am not actively pursuing a change in employment. With today’s economy I am basically just thankful to be gainfully employed. In the past couple of weeks I have been asked to apply for a couple of open positions. The opportunities have been very appealing and I have submitted my resume. I was excited about the prospects of the first position when the recruiter from the placement agency requested a pre-interview to find a match for their client. The potential employer offered an attractive compensation package. During my interview the recruiter informed me that I was the best candidate and he would present my resume to his client. The next day I was told that, unbeknownst to the recruiter, their client filled the position. I was disappointed but not surprised. I had hoped I would be offered the job but I pretty much knew that it wouldn’t work out for me. I think that the position was out of my league; too good to be true for me.

Now I shouldn’t get my hopes up that the most recent position will be offered to me either. It has an even better compensation package and is in the non-profit industry. I was previously employed in this industry and I did find it rewarding, and at times stressful. Maybe my lack of self confidence will keep me from being offered this position but I honestly believe that I will not have a better career at this time. I suppose that I should have more faith in myself and be more positive. And yet, that old familiar pattern of self doubt creeps back in and I convince myself that hoping for this opportunity is simply a pipe dream. Think positive, think positive, think positive... Okay, I am positive that I am going to be thankful that I am gainfully employed in a position that, on most days, I do enjoy and it pays the bills.

Outlaw Barbie

Barbie is about to celebrate her 50th birthday on March 9th. I have fond memories of playing with these dolls for hours on end when I was a small child. I loved them so much that I used to beg my nine year younger sister to play with Barbies with me when I was in high school. She hated playing with them but I always convinced her to drag them out and play dress up with them. I never really thought of Barbie as having the perfect body that in reality no woman could actually attain. I never fantasized about looking exactly like her. She wasn’t the reason I was unsure of my looks. She was just a welcome escape from a dysfunctional family. I never dreamed that she would be the focus of a political debate.

A state delegate in West Virginia is pushing for legislation to ban the sale of Barbie Dolls. This moron is actually spending our hard earned tax dollars on this stupid shit. He said the dolls have encouraged girls to value their physical appearance more than their education and intelligence. His bill, HB 2918, would make it illegal to sell Barbie dolls "and other similar dolls that promote or influence girls to place an undue importance on physical beauty to the detriment of their intellectual and emotional development." While I may agree with the fact that many young girls do place more value on their physical beauty, I do not for one moment believe that this evolves from a doll. Society in general has more influence on our youth than one simple toy.

But by all means ignore that we are in one of the worst economic crises our country has ever witnessed and focus your efforts on a doll. Who cares if our state is the second poorest state in the nation? By all means throw our state into national headlines so that the rest of the country will have proof that West Virginians are stupid hicks! Didn’t the “Road Kill” law make us look dumb enough? Yes, we have a law that makes it legal to scoop up dead animal carcasses, haul them in our pick-up trucks and fry up a mess of possum for dinner.

My Melt Down!!

I may have made a brief reference in an earlier post that I suffer from panic disorder. About fifteen years ago I was having three to four attacks a day. Since then I have learned to control them, most of the time. The rest of the time I, unfortunately, allow them to control me. Yesterday was a perfect example of losing control. Alarmingly, I was at work when it happened. I also suffer from migraine headaches every once in a while. If you have ever had one you may know that some people have what are called auras before the headache.

It began yesterday morning when I was having trouble focusing on my work. I knew that the aura was soon to follow. Just realizing that I would soon become practically blind my mind began to race. I started to panic because I knew that I would lose my eyesight. I absolutely despise this feeling. My brain does not rationalize that this symptom will disappear in time. I always imagine the most terrible scenarios; I will have a stroke or a heart attack or become blind. When in actuality I will simply have a horrific headache.

So there I am at work with my mind racing but trying to remain calm. I work for a health and wellness company and have medical personnel at my disposal. I went to one of our nurse practitioners and requested that she take my blood pressure. Since I am also diabetic her first question was about my blood sugar levels. I knew that my levels were fine. She took my blood pressure and it was normal. This fact failed to reassure me. She also told me that the aura was normal for the onset of a migraine. Still this did not calm my fears. Picture if you will, there I am lying on the floor in her tiny cubicle for all to see. She was holding my hand and instructing me to breathe. I tried my damnedest to not freak out. I was so embarrassed that I wanted to run out of the office, hop in my car and speed away. Unfortunately, this was not an option since I basically could not see. Luckily a coworker was able to take me to an urgent care.

At the urgent care they gave me a shot of Demerol and Phenergan to relieve the pain and nausea. Now I am really not one to take any medication, except for my diabetes. I was given the shots and started freaking out because I did not like the feeling at all. I felt so out of control with these drugs in my system. My poor coworker, who stayed with me the whole time, had to witness my total melt down. I am sure now she knows what other people know. I am a complete freaking nut!! I am so glad that everyone at work probably think that I have become totally unhinged. Welcome to my Crazy World!

Fostering Love

My mom called me today to ask for my assistance. She needed to fill out a referral application for my sister and brother-in-law so that they can become foster parents. If you have followed my blog you know that my sister and her husband have been trying for years to have a baby of their own, only to be heartbroken. They buried three baby boys within a ninth month period. She went to the doctor last week and he told them that they could undergo in-vitro fertilization again and the doctor believes that she will be able to carry one fetus to full term. Until they are able to go through the treatment again they will be foster parents.

The child(ren) that may be placed with them will be very lucky to say the least. They both have so much love to give. I worry some times that they will be devastated if they become attached only to lose another child. Most of the children in foster care have been abused or neglected by their birth parents. I admire them for opening their home to a child who may have severe issues. They are currently taking classes to teach them the proper way to handle these issues. What is amazing to me is that anyone can have a child and not required to take classes. To help other people’s neglected children you must take these classes and be investigated. Not that they care to do either. They simply wish to share their life, laughter and love with a special little girl or boy. I know that any child that will share this life will be the blessed child ever!!