and just because....

my thoughts are racing and its just me and Victorya (3) and she is grouchy and I am too tired and hurting to get out of this chair.....

Everybody has been sick since we moved into this duplex. We had concerns of mold when we moved in, but the landlord appeared to resolve them. Now I am not so sure. I have looked up "leaky houses" and found some sources that say small amounts of constant moisture and mold (not even black mold) can cause depression and anxiety. I am just so unsure of why my niece got so much more incredibly sick when she got here. I am so freaked out by the level my son's anxiety is at. I have never experienced anxiety, especially the uncontrollable kind that seems based on simple sounds or colors like his is. For some reason I just have this feeling that some of these things are related to this house in some way. I came accross a paranormal investigator's blog and I even entertained the idea that something paranormal could be contributing to all of the negativity we have experienced in the last year. Am I being paranoid?

Just some insight into what my current dysfunction is.... my 3 year old is running around naked cause she refuses to put anything on and I am too tired to make her. She helped herself to 1/3 a loaf of bread and all I could do was ask her if she closed the fridge. She ate all of the insides and littered the crusts all over the floor and I just sat here typing, occasionally glancing at the mess. Then I had a brilliant idea and I called the yodeling french bulldog, Bonita, that we rescued, to eat up the mess. She did better than a vacuum would of. Ironically, we rescued her because our cousin that owned her couldn't deal with her separation anxiety, which is what leads to her unique and incredibly annoying yodeling behavior.

Since being here, her yodeling initially only occurred when faced with a closed door or when everyone left the house. We decided that kenneling her might be contributing to her insecurities, so we decided to let her have free roam of the house. She freaked out on the rats for awhile and tried eating them through the cage. They seem to have come to an understanding. She will sit patiently and stare at them and they will go about their business and she doesn't yodel at them any more.

She is growing on all of us and she hardly ever yodels anymore. It is such a unique and annoying noise, but I admit I might miss it if she stopped doing it completely, because it is pretty damn funny, as long as no one is trying to sleep :)

It feels so good to just get all my racing thoughts out there. My naked daughter is now asleep on the couch with half the middle of a piece of bread in hand. When my 10 year old gets here, I think I am going to help her raise the money she needs for an amusement park trip on Friday, by letting her do some of the chores my back won't let me do right now.

By the way, this flare up was caused by me thinking I could cut my son's surfer/skater shag hair into the Pauly D haircut he wanted. It turned out like he wanted, but it took several hours, and we didn't get done until 1 am. Then I had to help him style it, and we didn't have any Spiker or hairspray, just cheap gel, so it took some serious work! Then he slept sitting up so he wouldn't mess it up.

out of order

I am. I am out of order. I was trying to do an emotional purge on my other blog and I just can't finish it. My back pain is debilitating and it is getting to me in a major way. I am already dependent on pills for my (still) undiagnosed stomach pain and nerve pain from my body lift. I have been taking more of those pills for my back pain because I know narcotics are in my future if I go to the Dr.

I probably need them. I did the regimen of steroids, percocet, and muscle relaxers that the ER prescribed and it physically helped me.... until the pills ran out. They left behind psychological effects. I don't like Dr's.I don't like pills and I don't like that they always have side effects. I don't like trying to explain hours of agony, feelings that I am unsure of the origin, trying to decipher side effects vs. real symptoms, and having a Dr. listen for a short 15 minutes, just to throw out a Rx for more pills with more side effects and dependency risks and suggestions to go to other miserable 15 minute appointments with different "specialists" or "therapists."

I have worked through so much emotional stuff and learned to manage my bipolar without meds, but I do not know how to handle it when I am in physical pain that is restricting me from taking care of my home, my kids, and myself, and the solution is pills with psychological side effects. I think some sort of physical therapy may be helpful, but I can barely drag myself around my house today. The idea of getting in a car and going to a Dr's office seems impossible. Then there is the issue of finding an appointment time in the few business hours available so that someone is home with the kids, and I still have to manage 2 therapy appointments a week for my son.

I don't want sympathy and I know I will have no choice except to find a solution. I will dig deep and I will push through like I always do. I am just especially tired. I am also afraid because I am manic right now and if depression were to replace it, things would spiral further down.

I haven't had to deal with a serious physical limitation like this in so long. I don't even know if I mentioned what happened. I pulled a muscle in my back when trying to clean up the laundry room floor after the sewage back up was fixed. Everything sets me back. I keep pushing myself too much apparently.

Ok I did it, I am on the phone with Dr's office. Apt. Friday at 8:30 am. probably going to have to take 3 year old, but it is a start. Did I mention I don't like Dr's?

no time

I need to vent and I don't have time! I have been emotionally binging the last few weeks. I have been going through a lot of the emotional past with my niece (her past, not mine) and then her suicide attempts have become  my emotional present. I love this girl so much, but I think I may be literally "loving her to death." We have had some good laughs over these last weeks. We have even joked about me writing a little memoir of the events and calling it "The Suicide (attempt) Diaries."

Last night was a short and sweet "attempt." Three beers and a half a bottle of benadryl. Sigh.

I need more time. She gives me perspective of what "time" really means. Ahhh what it felt like to be 21 and suicidal... feeling so immortal... only 10 short years ago.

Who knew I would turn into a rather emotionally stable, medication free, (mostly) functional mother of 3, that doesn't even remember the last time I felt suicidal? I sure didn't.

Our time together is coming to an end, hopefully just for now. I can't right all of the wrongs of your near 22 years of life, young one. I hope I have left you with something that you will look back on in 10 years. I hope we will look back on this time with the same humor we found together in our "suicide slumber party" and admire the strides you are about to take.

I wish I had more time to write, but what is that I hear calling me? Oh yes, yes I recognize it now. It is life.

up then down

happy then sad. irritated then calm. I HATE when meds mess with my bipolar depression and mania. I feel so isolated when my moods are unpredictable and I start to have severe anxiety when I either have a symptom (for now they are pain or nausea because of my undiagnosed stomach problems) or when I know I am going to have to do something about it (in this case either try the prescribed medicine or call the Dr. for a new one). I am talking MAJOR anxiety. I have got to find the right Dr. that can take the time to find appropriate medications for both my physical (post gastric bypass and now ill with chronic pain) and mental (bi-polar non-medicated) conditions.  I am seriously taking one slow and steady step at a time because I will not go back into the mental health system and become a puppet to a bunch of psych meds. I may not be a Dr. but I am the expert on me, and I have worked waaaaay too hard to balance out my life and use my emotional tools to deal with my mental illness, to be lead back to a drug dependence.

just.breathe.

Who am I?

Today this question keeps nagging at me. There are so many simple answers like Mom, survivor, mentally ill, recovered addict, Partner, woman. I am vaguely aware of every one at every moment and perhaps that is why I feel like my thoughts are so disorganized lately. At times I just want to be. Thats all. just. be. No expectations, no facade about who I am. Luckily that is usually how I am. Its the other little times when that voice of conformity gets in my head that I really start to go a little crazy.

Should I be like this or like that? Should I parent like this or like that? Should I look like this or like that? all referring to some societal norm, likely that I disagree with. Thats just who I am! 

Sick and tired of being sick and tired.

Thank you to everyone who commented on my last post about my son's broken arm. I really wanted to respond individually to a couple of you and the time just got away from me. A quick update on him: I got him into an ortho and paid a down payment on the treatment. the total bill for that Dr. will be almost $1000, but I can get a 40% discount if I pay it in full in 3 weeks (when he will get his cast off). I left the bill with the school principal who was too busy" interviewing" to see me. I fully intend on emailing her that I feel very strongly that the parents should pay the bill. It doesn't even include the hospital bill, but I know the insurance we applied for will go retro-active for 90 days.

My strong convictions are weighed down by my own physical limitations and mental angst. The whole ordeal is just to lengthy to explain in entirety, but I will sum it up. I am pretty certain I have a hernia from picking up my two-year-old. Seeing as I have no insurance, I went to the state hospital where we are on a sliding scale. Talk about dehumanizing. After eight hours of being treated poorly and getting drugged up on morphine, I was sent home. Still unable to eat or lift anything without pain, I gave in and went to the local ER. CT scan and ultrasound showed nothing specific, but I was told my insides are rather abnormal because of all of my abdominal surgeries and that they really recommend an exploratory surgery.

Yeah, let me just go get in line for the free operations that are available.

So I am in constant pain, I can't pick up my daughter, can't do much without hurting myself worse, and can't eat without pain. Of course the cleaning/door guy at Bryson's work quit so he has been training the new cleaning guy and has to work the door on top of his 6 days he already works. Not much energy left over for me and the kids. The ER can only give meds for 48 hours following when you are seen. The clinic where I could go has NO appointments available.... AT ALL. I have to call everyday for a possible cancellation. A week of that so far and no surprise, no cancellations.

I am worn out. It has been raining which adds to my distress. I cannot go to the ER every couple of days, but I cannot live like this. I am trying to remind myself of how worse it actually could be. Staying thankful for things like heat, shelter, hot water, my bed, the little food I can keep down, and that the pain meds have given me a nice break from my insomnia. I am also aware that being an addict, I am likely to experience some depression now that I am out of pills. Working hard not to start a viscous cycle and looking for a real solution instead of the band-aid that pain pills are.

WTF

I am so angry I am not sure if I am thinking rationally. The more I talk or think about it, the more upset I get.

Last Friday I got called by my 12 year old's school. He was in the office with a hurt wrist and ice was not helping him get any more comfortable. I just had a feeling it was broken. Sure enough after a trip to the ER it was confirmed. 

A few of you may remember that my husband has no insurance available at his company. We are on county insurance, but they had messed up our paperwork and said we needed to reapply. We moved and are in a new county, but we are STILL waiting for a response to our application. My point? We have no health insurance. 

That's only an aggravating factor for me right now. What has me really upset is that his arm was broken when two kids "table topped" him. If you are not familiar with this, it is when two kids conspire to take a big kid down by surprise. One kid gets on hands and knees like a "table" behind the victim and then the other pretends like he is going to go up and talk to the victim and instead pushes him over the "table" or other kid. 

So the school's official response is that the kids' parents are devastated their kids acted so horribly; that school privacy laws prevent them form telling me who it was, who the parents are, and what the consequences were. They assured me they had both in school and out of school consequences. Based on the gossip from other kids in the school, these kids are bragging that they didn't get in any trouble and that the took one of the biggest kids in the class down. 

The asst. principal assured me that she had spoke with all 6th graders and informed them if it happened again it would be treated as an assault. Well wasn't this time an assault? I asked her about contacting the school assigned police officer and she said she was pretty certain he would not issue a citation to the kids. Shouldn't he be allowed to discern if there was a crime?

Two days ago she assured me she would have the school police officer talk with all three boys. Today my son comes home and still nothing. Am I crazy to think the school should have accident insurance or that the parents should be responsible in some way? I know if one of my kids ever did anything like that I would want to personally apologize to the child and family involved, I would expect my kid to do the same, and I would be expecting to assume all financial responsibility, even if it meant my kid working it off for a LOOOONG time.

I think I am going to call the non-school assigned police and ask to file a report.

I am so mad. 

Where my thoughts take me today...

I took a break from writing my post on my other blog. A lot of people may have wondered if it was just too painful to continue. It is not painful for me to recount anymore. It is a part of a long learning process to who I am today. There is an irony to my childhood wisdom and hate for drug use because of my later drug abuse and negligent choices. I would like to divulge some of the rise and decent of my values through life.

The problem with writing, and with expressing feeling and experiences that were monumental in my life, is that I want some of the experience of my learning to be carried on in my words. Sometimes my own reminders of those experiences are songs, an item, a photograph, or a movie. Those things are what guide me to write certain posts, but as I relive the memory, I am now aware of my present reality.

My painful experiences used to consume me. Although I let them consume me for brief periods of time and long enough to express past unsaid feelings through writing or meaningful dialog with people, I have learned that I must stay present in today in order to succeed in my recovery.

All of the pain and emotions that I didn't believe were in my control led me to try to control people. When that didn't work, I thought I was the failure. With a few negative authority figures that were ever present to remind me of their perception of my failures, drugs provided the much needed break from all of the pain and rejection. Being addicted to a substance was far from the worst part of my addiction. It was really a minor complication when I look at the big picture now. That is because I have worked with a lot of determination  to change the circumstances that led to my drug abuse. I am not ever afraid of relapsing anymore. The things that led me to the comforts of drugs are not uncomfortable anymore. I have tools; I have skills; and I have learned to believe in myself in spite of diversity.

The lack of meaningful love without expectations that led to self hatred was a big problem, but it was not a problem I could change or fix. There was an awful cycle of co-dependency in full swing in both directions. My family had created an unnecessary cycle in which we believed our differences separated us, and that no matter how severe our disagreements, we still believed we needed each other. There was no room for change or growth or differences, but to admit we were better off on our own was interpreted as a betrayal. There was unsaid expectations for each person to stand on their own two feet, without being afraid to ask for a shoulder to lean on (but how much responsibility "on your own two feet" actually meant, and how much "shoulder leaning" was actually taking advantage, was always up for debate). All that lecturing, teaching, preaching, setting an example, followed by all the disappointment that I was doing things differently, and then all of the rescuing me from myself..... I was subconsciously being taught that what I was doing was not good enough and that I was not good enough to do it on my own.

You know you are beautiful when...

Thanks to Singlemamanyc for sharing her entry into Beautiful U Sweepstakes at Oprah.com I thought I would give it a whirl and here is what I had to say.....


You know you are beautiful when...

you have overcome life stopping obstacles and turned tragedy into a beautiful experience worth having. You know you are beautiful when you have been 380 pounds all the way down to 150 pounds and now at 240 pounds you love yourself more than ever. You know you are beautiful when you had breast implants for cosmetic reasons and now you have no fear of losing them should you need to save your life. You know you are beautiful when the people in your life are carefully chosen because you share hopes and dreams, failures and triumphs; not just genes.You know you are beautiful when you have hopes for your children to find their greatest potential with the freedom from expectation for their accomplishments to define you.You are beautiful when you choose to define beauty. You are beautiful when you look in the mirror and you love what you see, flaws and all.

How do YOU know you are beautiful inside and out?

This Is It!!!!

Here is my getaway. The place where I can ramble on without purpose and can throw out the random thoughts, emotions, and feelings that strike me in life, but especially while writing at My Sacred Insanity. I never realized the impact blogging would have on me or the need for multiple different forums for my many forms of expression.