Sunday, May 17, 2015
Friday, May 15, 2015
Hello and Happy Friday to you!
Welcome to Use Your Words. Today’s post is a writing challenge. This is how it works: participating bloggers picked 4 – 6 words or short phrases for someone else to craft into a post. All words must be used at least once and all the posts will be unique as each writer has received their own set of words. That’s the challenge, here’s a fun twist; no one who’s participating knows who got their words and in what direction the writer will take them.
At the end of this post you’ll find links to the other blogs featuring this challenge. Check them all out, see what words they got and how they used them.
My words are: paper ~ couch ~ freezer ~ Fan ~ peanut butter
They were submitted by:http://eileensperpetuallybusy.blogspot.com/
As you read this, I will be at my first therapy session. I am not sure exactly what to expect besides the cliched image of me lying on a couch while a therapist with a stone face listens and takes notes on paper.
I would much rather be sitting in my underwear eating nutella or peanut butter out of the jar and reading some trashy novel on my day off avoiding my feelings, my issues, and everything going on in this brain of mine. But I need to do this.
Am I a fan of therapists? Yes I actually am. I believe they have tools and resources to help us.
Now am I a fan of helping myself? Well...that's a little trickier.
I feel like a hypocrite-for a few reasons. If someone I know is struggling mentally, physically or spiritually I am there for them in a heartbeat. I want to see them flourish and live the healthiest life possible. When they poo-poo going to the doctor or therapist I am right there telling them to reach out-that there's nothing wrong asking or needing help. But when it comes to me...I would rather deflect attention elsewhere. I am content to reach into the freezer and pull out some icecream and avoid my feelings. I put on a happy face so I do not upset anyone. I hold in instead of letting out my emotions.
I know that is wrong.
I know that is unhealthy.
But that's me.
And part of a reason I am going today.
At least I'm taking that first step and acknowledging I need some help right?
Please don't forget to stop by these other amazing bloggers today and check out the words they got and how they creatively used them:
Spatulas On Parade
Southern Belle Charm
Sunday, May 10, 2015
There is a rumor that runs amok stating that we as humans complicate life. We abuse the simple joys and twist and deform them until they no longer hold any semblance of happiness for us and bring us nothing but torture.
It is said if we miss someone we should just call them. If we are angry we should forgive. If we are sad we should just get happy.
Basically, if it's complicated-simplifying would fix it.
Ahhh, but we are not one-dimensional soulless freaks.
Our emotions are tied with our memories.
A song can bring back a million memories in a few strums of a soulful guitar solo. A smell can make our mouth water and hunger for more than a favorite dish. A glimpse of a beautiful flower may make you ache because you'd love to give it to someone who would love and appreciate it...but who is no longer in your life.
We are made up of layers. Intricate, confusing, thick, necessary layers. They hold in our memories, protect us from our pains, insulate us from our mistakes, and shed when we are ready to embrace change and growth.
We love and miss toxic people. We want to reach out, we want them back in our life, we miss their laugh, their smile, but know they are detrimental to our souls. Keeping them in our lives would only bring us pain so we do what we can by shutting them out, distancing ourselves from them and moving on. But we miss them still. Even though we made the tough decision to choose what's healthy for us our hearts and souls yearn for what once brought them comfort and joy. Because pain and pleasure often are not separate. Those who can bring us the most joy can also destroy us the quickest.
I do not necessarily know if we complicate life. We are born a blank slate, we are empty canvases that are colored by every experience we encounter. Sometimes though the colors are thrown quickly and splattered on our stretched screen of a canvas. They become muddied and run together and make it hard to figure out what exactly our masterpiece is supposed to be. I daresay it is safe to say, life complicates us.
Complicated just means we have lived, we are living, and that we are learning how to navigate our life and this confusing world.
Happiness does not elude those of us who have convoluted, tricky relationships. For those of us who simply cannot yet forgive for the wrongs done to us, for those of us who cannot simply flip a switch and be happy, for those of us who cannot just give up our job, our kids, our life to follow our dreams, for those of us who are still becoming who we are and sorting out what it means to be you-know you are complicated.
It just means our complicated selves may need to work a little harder for our own happiness. Mainly, we need to work on being happy and doing what we want and need to do whether life is a breeze or a confusing complicated conundrum. In doing that we must throw out any generalized cliched advice to simplify that people tell us to do, even if it is with their best intentions. Our emotions and experiences are intertwined with our past, present and future and as much as we crave simple sometimes we are complicated.
And that's okay.
We are okay.
This has been a Sunday Confession on the prompt complicated. Sunday Confessions are hosted by the one not impressed by morphine, sweet Auntie, cheese loving Hot Ash from More Than Cheese And Beer. Check out her awesomeness and the other talented bloggers who dared to take on this prompt.
Friday, May 8, 2015
Sunday, April 26, 2015
Sunday, April 19, 2015
It is too nice of a day to have the house all shut up. The windows and front door are open, welcoming the whipping winds inside to help us air out the winter blahs that held us captive for too long. My mom is in the kitchen peeling, cutting, creating a dinner I am sure I will eat too much of. I would offer to help but she would just kick me out, again.
Today is a good day.
I am the ever annoying optimist. I wish I was not at times as it seems to annoy my friends and family. When I am nice to a frazzled and distracted waitress, when I lend the benefit of the doubt to someone who was supposed to have their work done two days ago, when I do not call people on their bullshit-at least not publicly-I can visibly see and hear my loved ones take the deepest of disgusted sighs.
In the past, I have been accused of being a dream pusher. I gladly accept that title and that I am a cheerleader. I sincerely believe you can do what you want to do. I believe if you put your energy, time and hard work into your goal you most likely can meet it. I will help you. I will tutor you, assist you, donate, help you raise funds, raise awareness, be your sounding board-whatever you need, whatever I can do, I will.
There are enough naysayers, bad days, dream crushers, negative attitudes and rough realities in this world that I refuse to be part of the ugly cycle. I need to offer hope and support where and when I can.
Silver linings exist. They may be hard to find, they may not expose themselves in a timely manner, they may not make sense, but they exist.
Over a month ago I was sitting at work when my husband called. He went with my mom to her appointment at the memory clinic. He was so nonchalant when he said the memory team (neurologist, social worker, neuropsychologist, my mom and hubby) had decided the best course of action to treat her dementia was to start her on Aricept.
My mouth went dry. There were too many thoughts and not enough words that were silently choking me. My eyes began to sting as the built up tears burned as I blinked them back. My husband was saying something but I had no clue what.
I had not expected that.
I really thought it was going to be her thyroid again. Over the past year she has been having issues where she was forgetting things-what she came in the room for, what we were talking about, incorrectly balancing her checkbook, retaking her medicine or forgetting it all together, forgetting that she already ate or asking the same question over and over, unable to break out of a creepy cruel trance.
A few years back, she had an issue where her thyroid levels were off-so off that they mimicked early onset Alzheimer's. She was put on medication with no resolution. Eventually, it was revealed her thyroid levels were ridiculously low, she was put on levothyroxine and BAM she was back to herself.
I had thought this time we would come to the same conclusion. She had an MRI, EEG, did multiple cognitive and spatial tests, tons of labs including her thyroid and B-12 levels checked and after meeting with her Memory clinic team they have concluded she has mild to moderate dementia. A hideous umbrella of a term that just meant that these symptoms were not going away.
My husband was still talking, I had questions but did not know what to ask or who to ask. So I asked the most pressing bothersome one that was screaming through my head, How is mom? How did she take hearing that?
I could hear his half-smile, wryly forming on his face, You know her, she said it could be much worse.
And I realized exactly where I got my annoying optimism from and why I could not let it go.
I may not be able to find the silver lining in this situation especially when this week has been a little rough, a little emotionally taxing, but it does not mean I will not find it.
Not all days are bad days. Most days are in fact wonderful. The Aricept we learned cannot reverse or stop memory loss-nothing can-but it can slow the progression. My mother is still funny and inappropriate, sassy and sweet, a wealth of knowledge and a goofball all in one.
Just some days, it's hard to find her.
Some days she will forget that she already exercised or that the mail came. Some days she will refuse to take her medicine swearing she already had. Some days she will become upset and emotional and we cannot soothe her. Some days she will ask the same question over and over until it wears on your nerves and your soul like only a grater can.
But today, today is a good day.
The wind has stopped ruffling our curtains, instead I hear the distinct slapping against the concrete and grass outside that could only mean rain.
Just as I was about to complain about the newly falling rain, my mom wondered aloud excitedly if there would be a rainbow.
Silver linings, there is no wonder who could have taught me to believe in them.
Today was a Sunday Confession with the one and only More Than Cheese And Beer. I want to say thank you everyone who has shown love and given support during this time. To my sweet readers and followers on my Facebook page-I appreciate the love and positive vibes you showered me with when I asked for it without explaining why.
Friday, April 17, 2015
Furiously needing to fly.
Flying fearlessly through the playground.
Sticking the landing, brave arms outstretched.
Greeting the day.
I combined the prompts from the NaPoWriMo website which was to create a modified haiku with a 4-9-4 rhythm instead of 5-7-5 and the Writer's Digest prompt which was to write a poem about a 'swing'.