I'm not sure what to even call this

I haven't posted in a while. In my head, I have written quite a bit...or thought about writing quite a bit. I've been in a dark place and writing would probably have been a good outlet for working through it. But, a good outlet for me may not be a good read for some.

In the last few weeks, my anxiety has manifested more than usual. Sometimes I can tell if there is a potential for an anxiety attack to arise. Other times, it's like BAM! out of nowhere. One of the recent ones happened without a trigger that I can pinpoint. During my freak-out, Jarvis was on the couch next to me. As I'm sobbing and on the verge of hyperventilating, he lifts his head, looks at me, and starts to whimper. Seeing him respond this way made me feel bad on top of everything else. Ativan was a must to bring me back to some semblance of calm.

The day after that, I almost lost it out in public. How I managed to avoid being curled-up-in-a-ball-weeping-in-a-corner is still a mystery to me. I was at the post-office to send off some paperwork. I was addressing the envelope and when I went to put my address on it, I started writing but knew it wasn't right. I forgot my address! 39 years old and couldn't remember where I lived. This scared me; I couldn't figure out what was happening to me. What was I going to do? Where was I going to find my address? Would I have to call Shawn? That wouldn't be embarrassing at all; "Hi, how's your day going? So, can you tell me what our address is?" At no point did I think to look at the paperwork I was sending off which had my address on it. I did think about my wallet, but not my driver's license. My thought about my wallet was my credit cards, but, they don't have addresses on them. FINALLY, after running all these things through my mind, I remembered that my address was on my driver's license and my license was in my wallet. I'm sure this was all a matter of seconds, but it felt like forever!!! I could feel my heart racing and the beginnings of a lump in my throat, but I kept it together enough to not make a scene. Oh, by the way, I had the numbers of my address right, just not in the right order. It was all jumbled.

I didn't have a purse at the post office and didn't have any Ativan on me. I now have Ativan in a pillbox on my person if I'm not home. My therapist and psychiatrist both made a point of telling me to make sure I have some with me because an attack can happen anywhere.

In addition to realizing I should keep Ativan with me, I also know that not taking care of my thyroid can also contribute to my recent long-stretch of darkness. Long story short, I was out of thyroid meds and should have done something to take care of the situation, but I didn't take action soon enough. I ended up without my Synthroid for a month or so. So, even with a low dose of Synthroid and a borderline hypothyroidism, it was not okay to just stop the meds. I didn't think the result would be so dramatic and now I know.

And so that's how things have been.

"What's the matter with the clothes I'm wearing?"

Not that long ago, I heard a woman talking about her little girl. She was saying that her daughter had gotten a new hat. The hat had a flower on it and the little girl put it on with the flower on the left. It seems the woman told the little girl the flower was supposed to be on the right (I guess there was a tag and a seam that indicated this). The little girl said that she knew, but she liked it better her way.

I've been thinking about this scenario. Did it really matter if the flower was on the left or right? In the world we live in, this little girl will be trying to fit someone else's idea of fashion and style soon enough. So, why not just let her have this hat?

There's a Target next door to my work and I go with a co-worker for coffee at the Starbucks that is in it. Often, mothers come in with small children. Sometimes it brings a smile to my face when I see the kids who obviously were allowed to dress themselves. I want to give a shout-out to those moms because they are letting their kids be free. Now, I'm not saying they should have an anything-goes tolerance of the outfits chosen. If the temperature dictates a need for a coat or absolutely no need for a coat, they should step in or if the important parts aren't covered. You know, still fulfilling the role of responsible parent. But, if the flower is on the wrong side; the stripes clash with the polka dots; the bath towel needs to be pinned on as a cape; let it happen.

Maybe, just maybe, these kids will grow-up stronger and more self-assured. Perhaps they will continue to be free.

Will it ever stop hurting?

This weekend marks a year since discovering our IVF treatment didn't work.  I probably wouldn't be able to forget it, but given that it happened a few days before my birthday, I can't forget.  Just like, if it would have worked, the baby would have come around Christmas.  So, the gifts I wanted for 2013 didn't come, and won't come in 2014, or 2015, or...

I never have a day during which I don't think of my infertility at least once.  This dreaded anniversary has just made it more front and center.

This morning, I took Jarvis on a walk.  Shawn and I have come to refer to each other as mommy and daddy when we talk to him.  I said something like, "Jarvis, you need to listen to mommy when I tell you to drop it."  At that moment, I realized, I will never hear the voice of a small child call me "Mommy."

I have had so many thoughts about my infertility; so many moments of heartbreak.  Today's was just a new version.

"Lovely Spaaam! Wonderful Spaaam!" *

I've been lax on blog posting, which makes me feel guilty, which gives me anxiety, which depresses me...Anyway, it's a whole messy cycle, so on to other things.

I got this in an email and it amused me, so here it is for all of you to enjoy:

!!! How To Get Your husband Back & Avoid Divorce !!!


Hello to every one out here,I am Latisha Allen,From united states of America.I will start by saying to all that have experience heart break and also cant do with out there lover should please stop here and read up my story, So as you will know how to go solving or getting your ex back from this spell caster..AND AGAIN I WILL WANT TO ALSO TELL ALL THAT THIS SPELL CASTER I WILL WANT TO TELL THE WHOLE WORLD ABOUT IS HARMLESS AND DO NOT HAVE ANY SIDE EFFECT, BUT TO RESTORE AND GIVE YOU BACK WHAT YOU DESERVE, COS WHEN I MEET WITH THIS SPELL CASTER THAT WAS INTRODUCED TO ME BY THE WIFE OF MY BOSS IN MY WORKING PLACE, HE MADE IT CLEAR THAT HE CAN CAST SPELL ON SO MANY OTHER PROBLEMS EXCEPT IN GETTING YOUR EX OR MAKING YOUR LOVER TO LOVE YOU MORE THAT WILL SUITE YOU. Last year December, My lover was cheating on me and was not also give me the attention that a man should give to a woman,And really that was troubling my mind and tearing my heart apart to the extent that i was not concentrating in the office the way i use to before the break up by my lover.And before that incident,I always see how my boss use to love his wife so much. I was binging to think that i was not doing the right thing to him that will make him love me forever,So i really gathered my courage and went to my boss wife office to ask her the secret that made her husband love her so dearly,In the first place she refused in telling me,She asked me why i am asking her such a question,That if is it not normal for every man to love his wife.I told her the reason that made me ask her about this question,That my lover started cheating on me lately,When i knelt down before her for her to see my seriousness in this issue that i went to ask her,She opened up to me by telling me that i should not tell anybody about what she want to tell me,The wife to my boss started to say to me that she used a very powerful spell on his husband to love her,And the spell that she used is harmless, But the spell is just to make him love her and never to look for any other woman except her. I QUICKLY ASK HER HOW DID SHE GET TO KNOW THIS GREAT,POWER,DURABLE AND PERFECT WORK SPELL CASTER,she said that a friend of hers also introduce her to him. Then i also ask her how i can meet with this spell caster.SHE SAID EVERYTHING TO ME,THAT THE NAME OF THIS SPELL CASTER IS Dr BRAVE.My next question to her was how can i get this wonderful spell caster,She said she is going to give me the email of the spell caster for me to contact him for my problem,Really she gave to me this spell caster email and i contacted him and explained all to him,And after every thing that needed to be done by the spell caster, In the next two days, My lover that hated me so much came to house begging for forgiveness and i was so glad that i have finally gotten my heart desire..I was so grateful to this spell caster for what he has done for my life.. So i made a promise to him that i will always continue telling the world about his wonderful work towards me and also to other that came to you before and also the people that will also get to you from my story that i narrated online now..I will want to say to the entire world that you should not cry over noting again, That there is a great man that has been helping individuals to restore there Joy and smile in there faces !! The direct email to get this man is bravespellcaster@gmail.com CONTACT HIM NOW THE BETTER FOR YOU TO GET QUICK SOLUTION TO ALL YOUR PROBLEMS...

*Thank you, Monty Python, for the perfect lyrics to use as a title for this blog post.

Lasting and laughing after 46 years!

February 24th, 1968

Forty-six years ago, my parents got married. 46 YEARS!!! I'm having a hard enough time believing I'll be 39 in a month, so 46 years of anything boggles my mind.

In an age when marriages don't last at a shocking rate, my parents have defied the odds. They made it to this anniversary that, unfortunately, many marriages never get to see. The 46 years of their marriage weren't easy. How could they be? I mean, that many years with no bumps in the road? Impossible.

Making it to their wedding day was a challenge of its own. The struggles and drama that led up to their wedding truly tested the mettle of their relationship. As heartbreaking as some of it may have been, it had to have given them the relationship skills to get to their 46th year of marriage.

Originally, they were set to get married the previous August. I believe there was even an announcement of it in the newspaper. But, it was not to be. My mother broke-up with my father; the wedding was off. It was a case of anxiety at its best (which, turns life to its worst). They went their separate ways; Mom to stay with her oldest brother's family in California; and, Dad, in his devastation, did his own travelling. These separate journeys needed to happen; lessons needed to be learned; hearts and minds needed to break and mend themselves the best they could.

They each returned to C-Town and eventually, to each other. However, it wasn't as easy as getting back together. My grandparents, my mom's parents weren't thrilled with my mom's decision. My parents weren't even certain that my grandparents would attend the wedding. My mom's oldest brother was willing to pinch-hit if needed. Another of my mom's relatives, my mom found out later in life, made a comment to others that her marriage to my dad wouldn't last.

After forty-six years, five kids, and all the joys and struggles that are part of the package, my parents are still together and get to have the last laugh.

I love you, Mom and Dad. I don't know how you did it, but I'm certainly glad you did.

Everyone's puzzle is different

This Google Doodle is beautiful to me. What a way to show support for the LGBTQ community when the Olympic Games are taking place in a country ruled by a horrifyingly, anti-LGBTQ leader. I would love to see the smug look wiped off Putin's face. AURGH!!! It is so frustrating to live in a time when there is still such hatred and discrimination.

I had such mixed feelings about these Olympic Games. On one hand, I do wish the U.S. would have chosen to boycott, to take a stand against such bigotry. But, I realize that isn't really an answer and I'm thinking any of the LGBTQ athletes would not like it. I'm guessing they would want to live the Olympic dream and give a giant STFU to Russia while doing so.

I guess I just don't understand such broad-brush hatred. I'd rather judge the assholery of an individual's character, or lack thereof than just have hatred because they fit in a specific category. I'm not claiming to be perfect at accepting everyone, but I try to be conscious of my shortcomings.

When thinking about the LGBTQ community, it helps me to put faces on those letters; to personalize it. I think about a lesbian friend who is raising a couple of really great kids. I don't dispute that, if she were straight, she could also be raising great kids. BUT, if she were straight, she wouldn't have THESE kids. One came into her life as a "step" child because he was her partner's son. She would not have been able to mold him into a fine young man and he would not have been able to mold her into a loving, patient mother if it weren't for her being in love with his mom.

Her wonderful, sensitive, beautiful, artistic daughter would not be growing to make her mark on the world in the way she is if her mother brought her about in a straight relationship because the daughter from the straight relationship would not be this specific girl. Yes, Kristen could have had an amazing daughter with a man she loved in a straight relationship, but that daughter would be different person, would have a different make-up, different talents, different ways of seeing the world. She wouldn't be J.

I'm not saying that Kristen being gay is better than a straight Kristen. I'm just saying that these particular kids and this particular mother wouldn't be who they are today because the pieces of the puzzle of their family would be taking a different shape, creating a different picture. How could anyone not want their family to be?

After all, aren't we all just trying to put our life's puzzle together a piece at a time?

There must be someway out of here

Had my monthly med check-in with my psychiatrist yesterday. It's always a good time. We were talking about some med changes. Some drugs have multiple uses, so he may say something about a drug being an anti-psychotic or mood stabilizer. It's great to hear "psychotic" when you talk to your shrink. So, out of curiosity (and paranoia) I asked him what, exactly, are the labels he has assigned me. He responded with a nice list of panic attacks with agoraphobia; chronic depression; and, OCD. Impressive, I know, and a relief that the whole psychotic thing wasn't going on there.

When I heard "agoraphobia," I was thinking, "Um, what? I leave my house." It turns out that people keep using that word and it doesn't mean what they think it means. It is actually defined by the National Library of Medicine as, "Panic disorder with agoraphobia is an anxiety disorder in which a person has attacks of intense fear and anxiety. There is also a fear of being in places where it is hard to escape, or where help might not be available." Now that makes more sense to me.

Looking at my life from the point-of-view of this definition explains many things. As a little kid, I hated having to go in elevators and was more than okay with climbing the seven flights of stairs to my Grandma's apartment. I'm still not a huge fan of elevators, but I can suffer through it, especially if Shawn or other friends or family are with me.

Crowds are another issue for me. The idea of not being able to get through to an open area easily stresses me out. Also, getting separated from those I am with adds another component to the crowd anxiety. I get anxious just thinking about a concert I went and grabbing on to my step-daughter's shirt to make our way through. It was as much for my security as for hers.

The one thing that REALLY struck me when reading this definition is when it comes to seating at certain places, like movie theaters, reception halls, and restaurants. As for the restaurant part, it is mostly places without a windows or the windows are not really open for seeing outside. So, as a little kid, when I would feel like I was going to throw-up, it was probably an anxiety attack about this.

I can remember a time when I was older, not a little kid, when I thought I would have a panic attack. I was with my parents, my aunt and uncle, and one of my cousins. It was a bar & grille type of place. I'm pretty sure an Entertainment Book coupon was involved because it wasn't a place we had ever been. Also, my uncle must have been there because I distinctly remember 1,000 Island Dressing being ordered and the place didn't have it. Anyway, I distinctly remember getting to the table and the internal struggle over the seating options left to me. For a variety of reasons, I didn't request a change, one of which was embarrassment at admitting my panic, knowing there was a level of irrationality to needing an exit strategy for a meal at a restaurant.

These are my issues (well, some of them), these are a part of me. I need to be mindful of access to my meds to get through these moments. I still survey places for exit strategies. I'm not comfortable with the inside seat of a booth, or the chair next to the wall at a table. I can handle those seats if I have to. It is easier if Shawn is the one next to me. Along with my meds, he is my comfort, my sense of safety, and my calm.