Monday, May 22, 2017


It is sad.

Everything hurts me nowadays.  I don't know if I am invisible or just not important, but it really sucks.

Even the dog is against me.

I just can't keep up with it all.  😥

I probably should go back on my meds so I don't have to have feelings anymore.  It would make things so much easier.  However, I stopped using them because they weren't helping anyway.

I don't know what to do about that.

What I do know, is that I am so so very tired.

And I can't keep up with life.

And every new obstacle just breaks my heart.

And I don't know how to fix it.  The more I try to fix, the worse of a mess it is.  



Friday, May 19, 2017

Lazy butt

I have been such a lazy butt these last two days.

Last Saturday I moved around all the furniture on the main floor.  Well, I hate it.  It has to go back to what it was.  But first we need to get rid of four pieces and find an apartment-sized sectional to replace the giant couches.  This is proving to be quite difficult.

I am so slowly chipping away at these tasks.

I am looking around the house and daydreaming about dragging everything to the dumpster and starting over.  There are three days of weekend left after today.  It could still happen.

But right now, I can hear my bed calling me for a nap before youth and connection groups start.  And I'm not one to say no to my bed.

Thursday, May 18, 2017

Yes, this

This quote says it all.  I feel every thing.  I consider every thing. It's all, hurt, pride, disappointment...I hold onto it all; it piles up, and sometimes I overflow a bit.  And then people tell me what I need to do to fix myself.  

And I don't like that.

I don't like that they think I am simply broken.  A weekend project with a quick fix.  A multiple choice test with the correct answer listed right next to the c).

There has always been so much stuff in my brain.  When that got full, stuff started filling my heart.  Then it started to fill up my digestive system, then my reproductive system.  Now it is piling up in my joints.

Aching.  Everywhere.

And goblets, nowhere.


Tuesday, May 16, 2017

Just let it go

I'm trying, I'm trying.

I have asked my family over and over for two things.

1)  Rinse your dishes.

2)  Clean up your own mess that your own self made.  Bad grammar, but I need to be specific so no one thinks I am tricking them into cleaning up after someone else.

And tonight as I stood at the sink in the kitchen washing by hand dishes that have been run through the dishwasher twice and not come clean...I was ranting. A little out loud, a lot in my head.  Two things I ask for.  Two.  No one does them.

I feel like I am the slave to a family of five.  An outcast in my own home.  Not part of the family.  

There is a show I used to watch where the matriarch realized one day that she had given all of herself away to her family, and it was time for her to do what she wanted.  So she went away, alone, on an extended art tour.  That could be me one day.  So very easily, it could be me.  

So as I scrub/rinsed the dishes and loaded them back into the dishwasher, my imagination took me on a trip, away from my house where all of me belongs to someone else and not to myself.  I smiled as I related my life to the little red hen's story, thinking about what my delicious bread will be.

And then back to reality I flew as my husband came in from symphony rehearsal. He made some noises of discomfort, mentioned that he remembered to pick up his prescription, and then left his dinner container, a sandwich bag, and all the prescription papers and bag on the kitchen counter on his way upstairs to take a bath.

After I cleaned the stuff up, I sat on the couch to watch a show with my teenager.   And why the hell not? Can't beat 'em, join 'em.

Just letting it go...letting everything it can hang with the rest of the let go stuff, wherever it all goes when it is...let go...

Edit to add:  just came upstairs at midnight to finally go to bed.  Found dog's collection of crap he gathered from everyone's rooms, including a roll of toilet paper that he so kindly shredded all over the landing.

Slave to six, is what it should read above.  Not five, six.


Sunday, May 14, 2017

Less of me

from Pinterest  

Less of me, less of me, less of me.  A popular Christian prayer.  Less of me, more of you.  You, that is.  Capital Y You.

I used to say the whole thing.  But lately, I can't make it past less of me.  Less of me is what's happening.  Less of me, more of everyone else.  More of everything else. 'Me' has become so much 'less' that it's like there is none left. 'Me' is the reason that there could be more of anything else.  

Less of me means
Less joy
Less contentment 
Less love
Less right
Less success
Less hope
Less peace


Friday, April 7, 2017

Breaking through

November 25...the last time I posted here. Here's some updating.

That illness in November was the start of a three month cough, resulting in chest and back pain. 

I saw three different doctors over that time.  The first agreed it was a flu and gave me codeine cough syrup.  The second said it was post-nasal drip and gave me nose spray.  The third said I had a throat infection and gave me antibiotics.  Then I gave up.

I lost my sponsored gym membership because I wasn't been able breathe without coughing.  No cardio, and weights hurt too much.  I also lost a lot of my singing voice and am still trying to work my lungs back up to taking full breaths.

On December 20, my doctor said I could not to take escitalopram it at the same time as codeine.  I tried to start taking it in the morning, which was not my routine.  After missing three days, I decided not to bother.  It wasn't helping anything anymore anyway.

The withdrawal was long and slow, but not too violent, since my "regular" dose was already the lowest dose one would taper to.  First I just wanted to sleep.  Then I had trouble falling asleep.  My mental and visual clarity slowly returned and I realized that taking escitalopram kept me in a fog, making me tired and pressing me down. On it, I was exhausted in the afternoon - enough to need to nap.  Off it, I wake up not groggy in the mornings.  I can see better and think better.  I don't need an afternoon nap anymore.

Life has not been easy this past while.  Our teenager is not out drinking, drugging and sexing, but he is refusing to go to school many days.  He is being disrespectful.  He is not doing projects...I'm pretty sure he hasn't handed in any school work this year. His passion is music, but he has started letting down friends and family by not fulfilling music commitments.  He loves marching band, yet when I told him he will have to pay half the registration for next year, he said he will not be doing marching band next year then.  He and I see a psych to try to work through all this.  I want him to know that he can seek help from people outside of our family if he is not comfortable speaking with us.  His last visit required his father carrying him to the van.  The psych did a 30 min session with him in our van.  This was visit 7 and the first time the psych didn't see a calm, put-together, intelligent boy with all the right answers (her words).  He didn't speak.  I don't think it's working.  I'm dreading visit 8, but have found comfort in a parenting teens group that I set up on Facebook.  I'm so thankful for friends in the same age and stage as me. 

Our home has still not recovered from not moving.  Stuff is still piled and is still too much.  Space is not enough. Angry teenagers (and preteens looking to rile them up) are everywhere.  The basement is now a bedroom, rendering it unusable gathering or escape space.  My home "office" is our desktop computer on our dining room table, so we can't even eat together without being on top of one another.  School breaks are incredibly unproductive times for me.  While we have made GREAT strides in paying down debt in the hope that we can list our house way too low and sell it that way, by the time we are able to get out of here, we will have to replace the bathroom, and all of the bedroom doors.  Which means we won't be able to afford to leave.  Stuck in this mud.

Work has been busy.  First year-end and T4 season for me, and now tax season for hubby.  I'm in the middle of a job transition.  Slowly transitioning from one to the other.  My days are way too full now, but one job seems like a job and the other doesn't, so hopefully things slow down before that changes.

We gave up our flyer route.  I couldn't handle the stress anymore.  It wasn't fun for the ONE child who stuck with it to the end to do it all on his own.  He was sad to lose the money, but glad to get back the time. The "boss" said we were amazing and anytime we want a job with him, he will gladly hire us back.  I've heard that at most (all?) jobs I've left, which is good, I guess, but a reminder that I have been searching, wandering, for so very long, and along the lines of "it's not you, it's me", my theme seems to be it is me, and it's me.

Since November, I have gained 10 lbs.  Two days ago, I bought some pants with pockets so I can carry my phone with me at new job.  Size 12.  I remember one year not too long ago searching high and low for a size ZERO that was small enough to fit me.  This weight gain depresses me.  It feels like not so long ago that I was healthy, strong, confident, content.  I wish almost constantly that I could go back.

I've been noticing lately that anything I ever say always comes back to haunt me in some way.  I've told people that to be joyful is a choice, and have learned that it's not.  I've said, if you want to exercise, you MAKE TIME to exercise.  Time is not always available to be made to do as we please.  In response to people saying, "I don't know HOW you all live in this tiny house," I've said, "It works great - there are enough rooms for each of us to go into one if we need to be apart."  It's now been proven to me that that is no longer accurate.    What I am learning is to just keep my mouth shut, and I do that a lot now.  I don't socialize at church coffee time, I don't seek out other parents at school events, I don't try to set up girls nights, despite my desperate need for a break from everything.  When the kids were small, we taught them that patience is to "sit quietly".  I'm trying my best to focus on patience.

For the past week or so, I have been plagued with nighttime anxiety.  I am absolutely panic-free until the second I lay my head on my pillow, and then my heart starts POUNDING, and my blood pressure shoots up. I can't lay down fully, and I can't take a whole breath without forcing it.  On Saturday night, I started having heartburn, which is extremely rare for me, and a loss of appetite.  Before I went on escitalopram, my digestive system would cycle through this weird state of hungry and feeling great all the way to the other extreme of no appetite, and the only thing I could consume was water, because it seemed that my digestive system completely shut down.  We are talking, anything I ate seemed to sit in my stomach and not move beyond there.  This week, I was taken right back to that time. I've noticed, since the onset of my panic attacks, that before I even know an illness is coming, my body will switch into panic attack mode.  This time around, Sunday was the worst bit of it; I was on worship team for church, ill, tired from my sleepless night, and a touch nervous to introduce a new song.  It all combined to make me nearly break down on stage, which is probably up there with my other worst nightmares.  I never want to cry in front of anyone, especially not in front of a room full of people looking at me.  I was thankful for the reclining chairs that day; during the sermon, I was able to lean back and take some pressure off my belly, which was telling me very strongly that I should be home in bed. So, all this panic and weirdness this week, with me trying to choose between going back into the fog of escitalopram or suffering through and hoping to find a non-prescription answer...and hubby starts complaining of symptoms similar to what I was experiencing.  And then teen starts complaining of the same. And I realize that I just need to listen to my body...panic means illness is on the way; be kind to yourself.  Ativan rescued me one night, and an herbal supplement another night.  Last night I was able to go to bed and fall asleep with only my hot pack as a comfort.  BUT, I also stayed up way too late last night working, which just might be the key.

This has been a very long update.  Finishing off with 10 highlights...

Having our pup has changed our lives in great ways.  I'm so thankful for him.

My parents bought us a new fridge for our anniversary.  This is the first time in 10 years that we've been able to keep veggies in our refrigerator for more than one day without them freezing!  I've started eating a lot more Greek salads.

Teen auditioned and was accepted into a performing arts program for high school.  This is a situation surrounded in prayer.

My new job is on a casual day-to-day basis, and I was able to secure a posting where I will go to the same school for an entire month.  And they welcomed me with open arms and are all so amazing there.  The whole thing is kind of a miracle to me.

Our income tax return allowed us to pay off a large chunk of our Line of Credit.

Hubby is currently on track to be done school by October, after a long 8 years of difficult coursework.

My mom traveled here and stayed with us for a few weeks during T4 season.  She caught up and kept up all of our laundry and dishes, which is one of the best gifts anyone could give me.  It was great to have an extended amount of time together.

We've set up a weekly family meeting that starts off with a game, ends with everyone picking chores and making the meal plan, and is filled with family business in the middle.  I believe it is changing our family.  Everyone is pitching in around the house, and I haven't cooked dinner (other than assisting) since we started!  I'm really liking the way it's going.

Family paint nite - I set up the first one and now everyone is excited to do another!

Spring has allowed me to wear a light coat all week long!!  :D

Until next time...

Friday, November 25, 2016


I'm failing.

I'm failing at it all.

Feeling so so very low tonight. 

Everything is a mess.

Two boys were home with influenza all this week.

My girl is fighting it now.  We are currently missing a concert after bailing on my commitment to drive some youth (including my own) to our church youth group's annual video game tournament.  I had to back us out of a luncheon with the newest member of our family that is taking place tomorrow.  A sweet baby boy, only a few days old, and his amazing mama and the rest of their clan.

I think my body is fighting the germs hard...I slather myself with Vicks every night and listen to binaural beats for full body regeneration as I fall asleep at night.  I pray for healing.  I stay on top of my Tylenol Cold and Flu meds and push through to get stuff done.  I try to take naps if I can.

But the truth's not working.

Some things are getting done, but none of it is the stuff that is important to ME.  None of it is self-care.  It is the stuff that is important to everyone else, and tonight I feel like I just have hit the bottom.  Day two of my period, which I sigh and refer to as hemorrhaging day.  It exhausts me so much to lose so much blood.  I can't get to the gym the week of my period because I get sick from pushing my body when it is so exhausted (not that I've been able to make it to the gym at all this month...).  You know, I have gotten two ultrasound requisitions to get this checked out; the first one about 1.5 years ago and the other more recently.  I still haven't gone.  The main reason:  ultrasounds cannot be booked online.  And also, other people always need my time and attention; I can't commit it to an appointment.

My home is a trash heap; junk everywhere.  I work on one place all the while stressing that I am not working on something else and turn around and there is still more.  There is not enough space for the stuff we need to live.  There is never an end to a job; never satisfaction of a clean area. Never peaceful rest.

My children are far far behind in their school assignments.  Some days they don't want to get up and go to school.  And I just don't have the energy to fight with them anymore.  Luckily their test and exam marks do not reflect their lack of discipline to get it all done.  I don't have the energy to fight with them about anything.  Not school, not homework, not video games, not bedtime, not eating, not brushing their teeth, not showering.  I remind them every day to clear their dishes from the table, which sometimes they do, but my hubby never does, and he actually is annoyed when I remind him, so I bother with that less and less too.

Our finances are a mess.  This pay period I had to transfer money from our line of credit to our chequing account THREE times.  And payday is still five days away.  And we're about to have house guests and tons of in and out of town travel.  And one boy needs dress pants that don't exist and the other two need jeans (I think) and we need groceries and it's Christmas.  And I'm not working a lot because there is so much else going on and our house is falling apart and our family needs me and I'm getting phone calls, emails, notes asking me to volunteer for stuff more than once per week.  My work needs me too; everything is an emergency in the payroll industry.  It is draining.  For awhile, I'd feel a jolt of panic everytime my phone buzzed that an email came in.  I'm not working enough. 

I'm not doing enough for anyone.

Friends have been helping with stuff in little ways here and there and while I appreciate it so so much, the truth is, I don't feel worthy of their assistance.  I feel like I should have this.  I should have all of this.  I should be helping THEM.  And I should be making it look like it's all a breeze for me.  And I can't right now.  And I can't see a time in the future that I'll be able to repay the favours either.  So, when help comes, I feel worse; more burdened.

Everything is such a mess.

So messy that even though I have doubled my Cipralex dose, I am sitting here actually crying as I type this.  With real tears.  I'm not gonna lie, it's been awhile since I've been able to cry.

I've always had all the answers. 

And now I don't.  The future of every part of my life looks dark and hard and like every step will require me to break through a brick wall just to be able to take the next step.

And I know that as I struggle and search, people are becoming impatient and frustrated with me.

And the thing is, I don't care.

And that makes me sad because I want to care.  I used to love all the people so much...

And now, I just can't.

Writing this all out has lifted it from my heart, and now I'm going to sit with my girl and watch a movie while I fold the laundry and think about nothing else.