I'm in a real funk lately...I just kinda feel like everything sucks. I have good, smiley moments. But most of the time, I'm just feeling like I'm down in the dumps. Life is not good right now. We don't have money, creditors/bill collectors are calling me nonstop. We're on hold with the refi, which is mostly the reason that the bills are going unpaid. I'm holding on to our cash to make sure we have enough to cover the mortgage, if we have to. My grandfather is gone. The future of my job is unknown. I just feel like I have nothing to look forward to. I'm just in such a negative mood. Last night, I seriously considered crawling into the corner of the closet and staying there. I know how ridiculous that sounds. Believe me. But at the same time, it sounds so much more comforting than dealing with everything.
I hate feeling like this. I don't usually consider myself a negative person. I really do think I'm a glass half full kind of girl. But I just can't shake this feeling of sadness. I don't know. Maybe it's how I'm dealing with Opa's passing. Maybe it's how I'm dealing with all of the shit. I just feel like everything is crappy. I shuffle through my work day, not really investing myself in the work. Pretty much just doing whatever I need to do to get through the day and meet deadlines. And even with that, I'm getting fucked over. But that's been going on for a while. Normally, I would look forward to going home and making dinner, spending some time with my tv shows and my kitties. I don't even feel like doing that much anymore. I don't have time to make dinner, since I don't get home til 6 at the earliest. I just make some bullshit and go to bed at 8 or 9, whenever Hubby gets sleepy.
Yesterday was our 3 year anniversary. I got stuck at work late, even though I came in early, and then Hubby didn't want to make dinner, asked me to bring home some drivethru shit. So, I did. We ate together, watched The Office and then were in bed by 7:45. We laid there, chatting for an hour, and when he rolled over to go to sleep, I couldn't sleep. I laid there and just started crying. I just feel so sad about everything. I wish I could go back to a time in my life where things weren't like this. Where I didn't feel like the weight of the world was on my shoulders. It's so ridiculous. I know there are so many people that are so much worse off. I'm sure that I have plenty of reasons to be positive about life. But I just can't seem to focus on anything other than the negative.
Really, if I could just crawl into a hole and stay there for a few months...That would be awesome. Let this whole work thing play out however it's going to. Maybe the pain that I feel about Opa wouldn't be so fresh and wouldn't hurt so much. Maybe someone else could worry about the bills and the house and the shitting cat. Maybe I could mysteriously get knocked up. Maybe I could lose some weight. I wouldn't need to eat...It would be like hibernating...
I know this post is totally disjointed and perhaps redundant. I just needed to get it out there. Maybe if I dump it all on my blog, it won't be in my GD head so much.
Nice 100th post, huh?
Showing posts with label 100 things. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 100 things. Show all posts
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Heroes and superpowers
061. Superhero ability → I'd have the power to heal – both myself and others.
I have a very real reason for choosing this super power. And it's related to my own personal superhero - my mom.
If you're reading this blog, chances are that you know me and you know about the condition that affects my mom. She has Multiple Sclerosis (MS) and was diagnosed in 1985 - I was three, she was 33...Only 6 years older than I am right now. That thought alone chokes me up.
I've tried to blog about my mom many times. And I always feel like it ends up sounding like 'Woe is me. Cry for my mommy.' But that's not how I want to portray her. I feel like I have to give some background and then before I know it, I've turned it into a pity party. Not so much for me, but for her. And frankly, I think she deserves one. If I were her, I'd cry day and night. I'd beg for someone to put me out of my misery. And maybe she has felt that way. But I've never seen it. Maybe that's why I feel like she's a hero...I find her inspirational.
She's incredibly courageous and strong - despite the fact that in terms of her health, she's been steadily declining for almost 25 years. The way that the "condition" (that's how it's defined - a condition) has affected her has been heart breaking. I've watched her lose her physical ability to do just about everything. For what seemed like a very long time, it was just her ability to walk. But it has progressed to so much more...Her ability to move herself in anyway has been completely taken away. She doesn't have the strength in her arms or hands to write or feed herself. She is lucky that she can breathe on her own. And even that gets a bit touchy.
I have a very real reason for choosing this super power. And it's related to my own personal superhero - my mom.
If you're reading this blog, chances are that you know me and you know about the condition that affects my mom. She has Multiple Sclerosis (MS) and was diagnosed in 1985 - I was three, she was 33...Only 6 years older than I am right now. That thought alone chokes me up.
I've tried to blog about my mom many times. And I always feel like it ends up sounding like 'Woe is me. Cry for my mommy.' But that's not how I want to portray her. I feel like I have to give some background and then before I know it, I've turned it into a pity party. Not so much for me, but for her. And frankly, I think she deserves one. If I were her, I'd cry day and night. I'd beg for someone to put me out of my misery. And maybe she has felt that way. But I've never seen it. Maybe that's why I feel like she's a hero...I find her inspirational.
She's incredibly courageous and strong - despite the fact that in terms of her health, she's been steadily declining for almost 25 years. The way that the "condition" (that's how it's defined - a condition) has affected her has been heart breaking. I've watched her lose her physical ability to do just about everything. For what seemed like a very long time, it was just her ability to walk. But it has progressed to so much more...Her ability to move herself in anyway has been completely taken away. She doesn't have the strength in her arms or hands to write or feed herself. She is lucky that she can breathe on her own. And even that gets a bit touchy.
MS has really taken a lot from my mom. And she really is beyond the point of help. There have been all kinds of different therapies and treatments that she's tried over the years, but nothing ever really seemed to help. It just kept on getting worse and taking more of her independence away. At this point in her life, it's all about making her as comfortable as possible.
The moral of the story is that MS fucking sucks.
Over the last 5 years or so, she has developed a symptom of MS that is called trigeminal neuralgia. I don't really know the ins and outs of it, but I do know how it affects my mother. She gets pains in her jaw/face that are completely agonizing. Like no pain that I have ever experienced. The onset of the pain is seemingly random - there's no one thing that causes it. Could be eating something, could be trying to talk, could be just sitting there. And the pain just overtakes her. She clenches up, her face starts to turn red and the tears just start flowing. And there's absolutely nothing that can be done. She has to just wait until the pain subsides (they usually last just a few seconds, but can be longer) and even then, she still has residual pain...I imagine that it's kinda like when you get an electric shock. The initial zap is quite painful, but that lingering feeling afterward is just as bad - and it lasts for quite some time.
They've tried countless painkillers and therapies...Again, to no avail. I made a post in an MS Support group on LiveJournal a few months ago and asked for any suggestions from other MS patients who may have gone through this. I passed along the suggestions to my dad, who discussed them with her doctor. One of the suggestions was gamma knife radiosurgery(GKRS). I didn't know much about it, so I googled it and found this article. The info about the GKRS is about 2/3 of the way down. It's basically concentrated radiation, which is supposed to create a lesion on the nerve, blocking its pain signals.
My mom is having this treatment done today. Maybe even as I'm typing.
I'm am PRAYING that she's lucky enough to get some relief from it. If you're the praying type, please keep her in your prayers. And if you're not, just think some good thoughts for her. The poor lady has been through SO much in her life. A little relief from this pain would be great.
This post really evolved into something that I hadn't meant it to...I wanted to talk about all of the GOOD things that have come from her being sick. And I will. But for now, let's just keep our fingers crossed that everything goes okay today.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
What a ballsy 13 year old!
I'm always trying to come up with topics to blog about. My life isn't very interesting, so I don't have day to day things to report on. And then out of the blue, it came to me...On Facebook, I'm always doing these silly time-wasting surveys...You know, 25 random things about me...Or 100 questions or whatever...And sometimes, you come up with some rather interesting questions/answers. I never want to elaborate too much, I mean, there's already 100 questions...Who really cares enough to read a whole paragraph on each one? And then I realized, what the eff is the blog for???? So, today will begin my first post about my 100 Things. (I hope that link works...Someone let me know if it doesn't...)
084. Have you ever...Ran away from home → I started to – in 7th grade. Mom & Dad had walked down the street to a birthday party for a friend. I took the car…Pulled it out of the garage, started down the street and then my nerves got the better of me. I went around the block and got the car back into the garage. I don’t think they knew.
An old friend made a comment, asking if I really did this, and noted that it was a pretty ballsy move. Yeah, I didn't think it was at the time. I was what...13? I had a "boyfriend" whom I'd met online and had never actually met in person. He lived in the city - near Midway - and I in the south suburbs. We talked on the phone for hours at a time. I had a polaroid picture of him that he'd mailed to me. And the picture that he had of me...? Was totally NOT me. I don't remember if Google existed at that time or not, but I'd somehow found a photo of a young girl who I thought sorta resembled me. But she was far skinnier, had gorgeous hair...She looked like that All-American type girl. And Derek thought that's who he was talking to.
I can't, for the life of me, remember what we talked about. I do remember that his best friend really didn't like me and swore up and down that I was not who I said I was. Smart guy. But Derek believed me. We liked the same music, and if I remember correctly, he bought and mailed me the Alanis Morisette cd that I was obsessed with. "You Oughta Know" was played over and over at very high volumes. I'm sure my parents couldn't have been happier when that phase was over.
I don't remember why I thought it was a good idea to run away. I do remember that I was having a tough time with life in 7th grade. I think I started off on the wrong foot...I befriended a couple girls who were the "cool" ones. I wanted to be a part of their group so badly that I abandoned the people that really liked me for who I was. I developed a HUGE crush on a specific guy in our class, and was willing to do what it took to be his friend. In the end, it all came crashing down around me. I was belittled and felt very ostracized. These people whom I thought were my friends really weren't. I got to the point where I was suicidal...Or I wanted to be. I used needles and even a fishing hook to try to scratch away at my wrists. I cried a lot. And then I met Derek online. And I felt like he was going to make it all better.
After we'd been "dating" for a few months, I decided that I couldn't stand being who I was. I was unhappy and I thought that running away with Derek was the answer. We planned it all out. My parents were going to a 40th bday party for a friend down the street, so they walked over there. I was alone at home, with keys to Dad's car. I packed a bag and had directions to Derek's house. We didn't really know what we were going to do or where we were going to go. I don't even think I had money. I just felt like this was what I needed to do to get happy again. I called my friend Laura and told her that I was planning to do this. And she asked me not to. She told me that she'd always be there for me and that I should reconsider. I think she played the "Friends" theme song over the phone for me and told me that she meant it.
Despite Laura's urging me not to, I got in the car (which, btw, was a fuckin BOAT! I don't know how I managed to not scratch it when I was pulling in or out of the garage). I put the keys in the ignition and started her up. I was shaking like a fuckin leaf. I thought for sure I was going to get caught. My parents would be coming back early or I was going to crash the car or something equally disastrous. But I kept going. I started to drive down the street and panicked. I ended up going around the block and going back home. I parked back in the garage and called Derek to tell him I wasn't coming.
I think we broke up shortly after that. I still think of him every once in a while, and I'd be lying if I said I haven't looked for him on Facebook. I've googled him a couple times, too. And I think I may have found him, but I can't ever find a photo, so I'm not sure if it's him or not. That "friend" that had made my life so difficult in 7th grade didn't return the next year...I was thanking my lucky stars...I felt like I had a chance to start over again. And I think I did. Eighth grade was a lot less traumatic for me, and I never really felt the urge to run away again.
Sometimes, I wish I could run away now...Just grab my purse and some clothes and a pillow and leave. I don't know where I'd go or what I'd do, but the idea of being without responsibilities and without things to hold me down...Yeah, it's kind of intriguing. But I certainly don't have the balls to do it now...And I'm far too realistic to think that I could just up and leave everything.
084. Have you ever...Ran away from home → I started to – in 7th grade. Mom & Dad had walked down the street to a birthday party for a friend. I took the car…Pulled it out of the garage, started down the street and then my nerves got the better of me. I went around the block and got the car back into the garage. I don’t think they knew.
An old friend made a comment, asking if I really did this, and noted that it was a pretty ballsy move. Yeah, I didn't think it was at the time. I was what...13? I had a "boyfriend" whom I'd met online and had never actually met in person. He lived in the city - near Midway - and I in the south suburbs. We talked on the phone for hours at a time. I had a polaroid picture of him that he'd mailed to me. And the picture that he had of me...? Was totally NOT me. I don't remember if Google existed at that time or not, but I'd somehow found a photo of a young girl who I thought sorta resembled me. But she was far skinnier, had gorgeous hair...She looked like that All-American type girl. And Derek thought that's who he was talking to.
I can't, for the life of me, remember what we talked about. I do remember that his best friend really didn't like me and swore up and down that I was not who I said I was. Smart guy. But Derek believed me. We liked the same music, and if I remember correctly, he bought and mailed me the Alanis Morisette cd that I was obsessed with. "You Oughta Know" was played over and over at very high volumes. I'm sure my parents couldn't have been happier when that phase was over.
I don't remember why I thought it was a good idea to run away. I do remember that I was having a tough time with life in 7th grade. I think I started off on the wrong foot...I befriended a couple girls who were the "cool" ones. I wanted to be a part of their group so badly that I abandoned the people that really liked me for who I was. I developed a HUGE crush on a specific guy in our class, and was willing to do what it took to be his friend. In the end, it all came crashing down around me. I was belittled and felt very ostracized. These people whom I thought were my friends really weren't. I got to the point where I was suicidal...Or I wanted to be. I used needles and even a fishing hook to try to scratch away at my wrists. I cried a lot. And then I met Derek online. And I felt like he was going to make it all better.
After we'd been "dating" for a few months, I decided that I couldn't stand being who I was. I was unhappy and I thought that running away with Derek was the answer. We planned it all out. My parents were going to a 40th bday party for a friend down the street, so they walked over there. I was alone at home, with keys to Dad's car. I packed a bag and had directions to Derek's house. We didn't really know what we were going to do or where we were going to go. I don't even think I had money. I just felt like this was what I needed to do to get happy again. I called my friend Laura and told her that I was planning to do this. And she asked me not to. She told me that she'd always be there for me and that I should reconsider. I think she played the "Friends" theme song over the phone for me and told me that she meant it.
Despite Laura's urging me not to, I got in the car (which, btw, was a fuckin BOAT! I don't know how I managed to not scratch it when I was pulling in or out of the garage). I put the keys in the ignition and started her up. I was shaking like a fuckin leaf. I thought for sure I was going to get caught. My parents would be coming back early or I was going to crash the car or something equally disastrous. But I kept going. I started to drive down the street and panicked. I ended up going around the block and going back home. I parked back in the garage and called Derek to tell him I wasn't coming.
I think we broke up shortly after that. I still think of him every once in a while, and I'd be lying if I said I haven't looked for him on Facebook. I've googled him a couple times, too. And I think I may have found him, but I can't ever find a photo, so I'm not sure if it's him or not. That "friend" that had made my life so difficult in 7th grade didn't return the next year...I was thanking my lucky stars...I felt like I had a chance to start over again. And I think I did. Eighth grade was a lot less traumatic for me, and I never really felt the urge to run away again.
Sometimes, I wish I could run away now...Just grab my purse and some clothes and a pillow and leave. I don't know where I'd go or what I'd do, but the idea of being without responsibilities and without things to hold me down...Yeah, it's kind of intriguing. But I certainly don't have the balls to do it now...And I'm far too realistic to think that I could just up and leave everything.
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