Well... I knew it's been awhile but had no idea it was SEPTEMBER that I last blogged!
I want to explain the reasons....with the caveat that I am not talking to YOU, whoever you may be. One person wasn't responsible, it was a combination of all the people who read.
First let me start with WHY I blog. It started, years ago, because sometimes I have too much to say that won't fit in a fb post so a friend suggested I blog. I really enjoyed it. It was a great way to shut up my overthinking brain by having an outlet for all of my thoughts. Then, of course, the affair happened and I really needed an outlet. But then my reason changed a bit. It was because I would go online and search for other stories (hopefully of success) of women who stayed and tried to make it work. I wanted to see if they were struggling as much as me. To see how they dealt with it. What worked, etc. I then realized it would be cathartic to tell my story as I went along in real time. For others like me. The problem became when people who have no idea what it's like decided to judge me. My blog wasn't written to be judged, it was supposed to be helpful...to me and to other victims. My favorite is when it was preceded by "I'm not judging but..." I realize that my blogs were a roller coaster. It was real time. I was ON a roller coaster. Not all of them were written when I was hopeful about our future, some shared my darkest concerns and my deepest pain. What would be the point of trying to help others if they thought my story was all roses? I didn't really care what you, the non-victim felt or thought. As with all things in life, if it doesn't pertain to you...move on. No one forced you to read it.
Support comes in may forms, but judging isn't one of them and acting like a victim of my words certainly isn't either....especially when they weren't about you. And that became the reason for my avoidance. Once again I lost my sister this time because of a blog. It was the one where I talked about how I was going to start treating others like they treat me. It wasn't about her. It wasn't about anyone. It was a general conclusion I came to. And I still stand by. She sent me a hate filled rant about why wasn't I treating my husband the way he treated me and some really below the belt insults about me, all tied to her belief that my blog was about her. She still thinks we aren't speaking because she wouldn't allow my husband in her house and has no clue it's because that rant was the LAST rant she will ever use to hurt me. That's her MO. To lash out at her "loved ones" and then IF they love her they will forgive her. I mean I forgave my husband he did much worse. What she fails to see...she has NEVER expressed regret, remorse or apologized for any of the awful tirades she has gone on. That have been deeply hurtful. And there lies the difference. I will let you hurt me but you damn well better feel bad afterwards and you better let me know you feel bad. I am tired of allowing people to hurt me without consequences...and the consequence I ask...is to take ownership of what you did. I am not asking for much.
Well this wasn't supposed to be about her. Because that isn't the only reason I stopped blogging. It was just very representative of the why.
The reason is: I don't express myself that well. With all the rambling I do, sometimes the point gets lost or like I said someone picks up on one thing I say and gets super butt hurt over it and doesn't allow me to explain what I meant and if it was even about them at all. My own mother won't read my blog for fear of getting hurt over something I say. Read my blogs...how often have I even mentioned her? Over the past year my suicidal thoughts have increased dramatically, and even with that...she would not read my blog. Not realizing that she could literally save my life by monitoring my thoughts, but she was more concerned about whether she may be hurt than whether I may be crying out for help. And her excuse...I know it well....she always has one for everything, which is the most frustrating part about her (sometimes a simple I did the best I could would be nice without a but and a explanation) anyway her excuse...well I talked to you every week....assuming what? I'd just say "Oh by the way, I'll call if I get to close to following through". That's not how it works...I have said it before and I will repeat it for those who care....suicidal thoughts can hit you out of nowhere...it is up to the loved ones to check in on people they care about...you can not expect us to reach out to you. And if you aren't checking in? When we get blindsided by a suicidal thought we will think back to when the last time you did ask us about our mental health...and if it wasn't recently it will reinforce the idea that you don't really care and that you'd be better off without us.
So I start to come here to write and then I start thinking about how someone may misinterpret my blog and how much damage control I will have to do afterwards. And it doesn't seem worth it.
Most of the blogs I have wanted to write aren't even on a controversial topic and yet I would tell myself "Someone will read this wrong and I will have to justify my words".
I lost an aunt (not really one worth having, if we are being honest) because she was reading my blogs (unbeknownst to me) and then one day used my personal pain(the affair) and and life stories (about RV) to mock me on a public fb comment because --wait for it--- I defended my father's right to post shit mocking Trump...I said "scroll on" ....that's it...and she attacked me...and you bet your ass I attacked her back....because I treat others how they treat me....
So ...what have I been up to? Well things I have wanted to blog about: I had a free psychic visit...that could fill a whole blog, I did a food sensitivity test...that changed my life, and we are still working on having the marriage I always thought we had, we also have plans to start working less...and still making the same amount of money.
I started working 4 days a week right around September...after the whole RV idea came to a halt. We still have ideas on how to make it work and also ideas of how to do it completely differently. Some ideas require waiting til our pet situation changes but others don't.
October and November was still very rough mentally...roller coaster of mostly downs and flats. I was getting very desperate to change things. Even thought about seeing a psychologist but still refuse to take antidepressants. That's when I came across the food sensitivity idea. I read about a couple people, including a doctor, who eliminated eggs and fixed their mental health. It's worthy of a whole blog but the Cliff's notes version is...I was highly sensitive to egg yolks and whites and after eliminating them I have not had any anxiety, minimal nausea and have had lots of happy days. I did have a minor setback with my last period, but I am not sure if I overreacted from unrealistic expectations thus making my mood worse. I am starting my period now and so far I am still managing well.
The past 2 months have been mostly really good...not just good. Even if eliminating eggs didn't erase the depression completely, it has made a huge difference and it has definitely erased my anxiety, that alone is worth it. I have begun introducing egg products to see what I can tolerate...mayo being one that is a little harder to live without. I haven't missed actual eggs at all. We made cookies without eggs that were delicious and pancakes that you don't even notice a difference. One possible effect I had with mayo was insomnia. But I deemed it worthy of having a little mayo every now and then.
I am very optimistic about my future, as well as the future of our marriage. We are working through another book right now. Still trying to find the why and how? We are learning how to recognize what makes marriages vulnerable to an affair. And how to fix them before they get out of hand.
I plan to come back to write those blogs I wanted to write. Now that I have gotten all of this off my chest, I feel more free to go about writing the way I write and to hell with those of you who'd rather assume I meant something negative about YOU than to just ask me what I meant. Just stop reading, it truly isn't that interesting of a blog.
And for the rest of you...thanks for reading and being supportive and knowing that I am not perfect and ramble like a fool but that I always have the best of intentions. My intent is never to hurt, just to be honest about my perceptions and my feelings. And that's all they are my opinions ...they aren't facts...but it is how I feel.
Sunday, January 26, 2020
Saturday, September 14, 2019
Thank u, next
Did I just sort of quote Ariana Grande?? ;)
I'd say this is the short answer to why RV life is on hold but I do tend to ramble so it probably won't be....
There are multiple reasons but the ultimate reason is Linus hated it. Linus is our problem child cat. He has a medical issue that causes sludge to form in his bladder, so he's on expensive prescription food. He also has epilepsy. None of this would be more than a slight inconvenience except he is also a scaredy cat....even though we fostered him from 4 weeks old, he just has trust issues. He's 4 and still runs like a maniac to hide under the bed if he thinks anyone is coming into the house. He knows all of the cues (the chime from the Ring, the sound of the lock being unlocked on the front door) and bolts at the first sound. He has adapted to the garage door but even then if we come home back to back, he runs when he hears it the second time, sure that it's someone new, not one of us.
Why does this matter?
Because of all the things we considered, we forgot this. We had visions of us sitting outside the RV, enjoying nature, the cats at our feet (they love being in the back yard with us) and just relaxing. But this will never be a reality with Linus. Each campground will be a new horror.
His reaction to us even taking him out the front door was terror. We didn't want to use the carrier because he associates that with the vet. So I carried him....and have a nice scabby scratch to prove it. He wasn't even IN the RV yet when the struggle began. Once inside and on the floor it wasn't even a second before he somehow darted through me and the screen door, bolted down the empty lot next to our house and after 2 attempts jumped a 6 foot wall to get back into our yard. I found him huddled by the back sliding door when I ran inside. Lucy's reaction was similar but she gets scared when he gets scared, she just ran to the front door. We were able to try again the next day with her and she seemed like she would adapt just fine. But we didn't want to stress him out again, since we realized it would be a long, if ever, process to get him adapted.
The whole point of the RV lifestyle was to be relaxing. I could never be relaxed with him cowering somewhere while we drove from one new place to another. I am not sure he'd ever adapt to driving, let alone new campsites.
So that's the reason that put it all on the back burner. We learned other things from renting the RV, but nothing that was a definite deal breaker. Just some things we also had envisioned a little differently.
We learned driving it wouldn't be a problem due to size, but the one we rented was old (over 80,000 miles) and it sure did rattle a lot if the road wasn't smooth. That could get pretty annoying. I am sure a newer one would probably be smoother but who knows.
The size of the one we rented was too small, but it was a Class C, so we knew it wouldn't be completely comparable. It was also 25 ft with no slide outs. Even so, sleeping didn't feel confining (which was a big concern for me)...the mattress was a concrete slab, so we only ended up spending one night in it, no sense killing our bodies when Linus already convinced us now wouldn't be the time to do this. We know we would have a better mattress, so again not a deal breaker. All of the little things were fine...doing the hookups, backing into the spot, etc.
The first park we stayed at was ok. The lot seemed small and wasn't nearly as "relaxing" as we had envisioned. It was also windy...like you could feel the RV move while you were sleeping. Not sure if a Class A would be better or worse...but again not necessarily a deal breaker.
The second park was essentially a parking lot. All concrete, it made the first place look like paradise.
This made us realize we would really need to read reviews and be picky about where we stayed. Both parks were over the budget price we had calculated for once we were on the road living full time. So we wondered how realistic our budget was (although there are memberships you can join to save lots on campground fees). But it doesn't change the fact that it wouldn't be as simple as bopping from here to there and just staying at places you come across. It would require some research and time. Not a deal breaker but again something to consider.
And finally there is me...crazy little me. I was finally finishing a 19 day long visit from Flo. I had hoped with that bitch finally gone my mood would begin to improve. Let's just say the Linus incident sent me tumbling... I was feeling despair, defeat, hopelessness and it was ugly. My mind goes to so many bad places once it starts to fall and I realized that part of my safety net is familiarity, just like Linus. Being on the road while hormonal could be unbearable. If we had a bad day, a dirty campground, an unexpected vehicle issue, any little thing could cause me to fall--and I wouldn't have anything to cling to to get through...yes I would have Dave, but sometimes my brain still screams at me that HE is the problem. What if I felt cornered, like I had nowhere to go...what would I do?
The past few weeks I have been having lots of "I wish I wasn't alive" thoughts. Not suicidal. There is a subtle, but very important difference. I don't want to "kill" myself. I just am tired of living. And I am not...I know this because, finally, I am starting to feel better. It's so hard when it lasts more than a few days. And what if that happened while on the road? I don't have an answer. So the safest thing is to stay put. And that alone is reason enough to delay this. I don't have to blame Linus, but he did help me realize how dangerous it could be for me, not just him.
So, we are looking at other options. Once this was a no go, I was still in a bad place and I hate making decisions then because they aren't "real" or true to how I feel when I am "normal". But my brain doesn't stop just because I know that. And I kept telling Dave I don't want to be here...meaning the house...when really it was anywhere..alive. So that really isn't a great time to be deciding anything. We managed to talk through all of that and come to the conclusion that we would love to sell and find something cheaper and smaller, but not if it was just to not be here. It needs to make financial sense. Smaller but still having the same monthly expenses, is just not worth the upheaval. Like with the RV life-- We were going to be able to work significantly less with that lifestyle. We'd have a stash of cash and a set monthly expense, that we could alter simply by boondocking if needed or working a holiday season. So how can we replicate that without traumatizing me or the cat?
A mobile home park. The problem being 75% of them (here) are 55 and over. But we are persevering and talking with a realtor who knows which parks aren't 55+ and looking to find a home that isn't too shabby, a little more expensive than an RV but still will allow us to work less, with an HOA that would be much less than campground fees. If she can find us something we will sell...otherwise we just stay put. With the caveat...we will be enjoying life more by tapping into our savings. We will budget a certain amount each year for day trips or concerts or whatever to live a little when we aren't working.
I have a gyn visit soon and will discuss whether a hysterectomy could help--though based on internet searches, it won't stop the hormone imbalances, so why do it? Having a period isn't the problem it's the hormones that go with it. I can't take hormones--I have a clotting disorder, and like I said I may not want to be alive but I don't want to kill myself either. And I am considering seeing a holistic doctor. As weird as it sounds, why not? I can't take antidepressants but maybe something else can help me.
I thought of the perfect analogy to explain why I won't take antidepressants again: it's like life support. Living on a machine that breathes for you, a feeding tube...but you are trapped...you aren't living, you are alive. I was only alive when I was on antidepressants. I was not living. I didn't feel happy or sad. I mostly slept. That isn't how I want to live. That would be staying alive so others can have me in their lives...but I wouldn't really be living. And I won't go back to that. It sucked.
So there you have it. Not so short. Not so simple.
A side note to any readers who may feel like my dear sweet aunt felt ---if you read my blogs and think I am a "whack a doodle" (her word, not mine) maybe you should ask yourself what you are, since you keep coming back to read them?? Every hateful, hurtful bitch that I remove from my life brings me one step closer to a day when I am surrounded by people who only wish the best for me. It never stops feeling good to remove these cancerous people from my life! You should try it. Blood is a stupid reason to keep nasty people in your life.
I'd say this is the short answer to why RV life is on hold but I do tend to ramble so it probably won't be....
There are multiple reasons but the ultimate reason is Linus hated it. Linus is our problem child cat. He has a medical issue that causes sludge to form in his bladder, so he's on expensive prescription food. He also has epilepsy. None of this would be more than a slight inconvenience except he is also a scaredy cat....even though we fostered him from 4 weeks old, he just has trust issues. He's 4 and still runs like a maniac to hide under the bed if he thinks anyone is coming into the house. He knows all of the cues (the chime from the Ring, the sound of the lock being unlocked on the front door) and bolts at the first sound. He has adapted to the garage door but even then if we come home back to back, he runs when he hears it the second time, sure that it's someone new, not one of us.
Why does this matter?
Because of all the things we considered, we forgot this. We had visions of us sitting outside the RV, enjoying nature, the cats at our feet (they love being in the back yard with us) and just relaxing. But this will never be a reality with Linus. Each campground will be a new horror.
His reaction to us even taking him out the front door was terror. We didn't want to use the carrier because he associates that with the vet. So I carried him....and have a nice scabby scratch to prove it. He wasn't even IN the RV yet when the struggle began. Once inside and on the floor it wasn't even a second before he somehow darted through me and the screen door, bolted down the empty lot next to our house and after 2 attempts jumped a 6 foot wall to get back into our yard. I found him huddled by the back sliding door when I ran inside. Lucy's reaction was similar but she gets scared when he gets scared, she just ran to the front door. We were able to try again the next day with her and she seemed like she would adapt just fine. But we didn't want to stress him out again, since we realized it would be a long, if ever, process to get him adapted.
The whole point of the RV lifestyle was to be relaxing. I could never be relaxed with him cowering somewhere while we drove from one new place to another. I am not sure he'd ever adapt to driving, let alone new campsites.
So that's the reason that put it all on the back burner. We learned other things from renting the RV, but nothing that was a definite deal breaker. Just some things we also had envisioned a little differently.
We learned driving it wouldn't be a problem due to size, but the one we rented was old (over 80,000 miles) and it sure did rattle a lot if the road wasn't smooth. That could get pretty annoying. I am sure a newer one would probably be smoother but who knows.
The size of the one we rented was too small, but it was a Class C, so we knew it wouldn't be completely comparable. It was also 25 ft with no slide outs. Even so, sleeping didn't feel confining (which was a big concern for me)...the mattress was a concrete slab, so we only ended up spending one night in it, no sense killing our bodies when Linus already convinced us now wouldn't be the time to do this. We know we would have a better mattress, so again not a deal breaker. All of the little things were fine...doing the hookups, backing into the spot, etc.
The first park we stayed at was ok. The lot seemed small and wasn't nearly as "relaxing" as we had envisioned. It was also windy...like you could feel the RV move while you were sleeping. Not sure if a Class A would be better or worse...but again not necessarily a deal breaker.
The second park was essentially a parking lot. All concrete, it made the first place look like paradise.
This made us realize we would really need to read reviews and be picky about where we stayed. Both parks were over the budget price we had calculated for once we were on the road living full time. So we wondered how realistic our budget was (although there are memberships you can join to save lots on campground fees). But it doesn't change the fact that it wouldn't be as simple as bopping from here to there and just staying at places you come across. It would require some research and time. Not a deal breaker but again something to consider.
And finally there is me...crazy little me. I was finally finishing a 19 day long visit from Flo. I had hoped with that bitch finally gone my mood would begin to improve. Let's just say the Linus incident sent me tumbling... I was feeling despair, defeat, hopelessness and it was ugly. My mind goes to so many bad places once it starts to fall and I realized that part of my safety net is familiarity, just like Linus. Being on the road while hormonal could be unbearable. If we had a bad day, a dirty campground, an unexpected vehicle issue, any little thing could cause me to fall--and I wouldn't have anything to cling to to get through...yes I would have Dave, but sometimes my brain still screams at me that HE is the problem. What if I felt cornered, like I had nowhere to go...what would I do?
The past few weeks I have been having lots of "I wish I wasn't alive" thoughts. Not suicidal. There is a subtle, but very important difference. I don't want to "kill" myself. I just am tired of living. And I am not...I know this because, finally, I am starting to feel better. It's so hard when it lasts more than a few days. And what if that happened while on the road? I don't have an answer. So the safest thing is to stay put. And that alone is reason enough to delay this. I don't have to blame Linus, but he did help me realize how dangerous it could be for me, not just him.
So, we are looking at other options. Once this was a no go, I was still in a bad place and I hate making decisions then because they aren't "real" or true to how I feel when I am "normal". But my brain doesn't stop just because I know that. And I kept telling Dave I don't want to be here...meaning the house...when really it was anywhere..alive. So that really isn't a great time to be deciding anything. We managed to talk through all of that and come to the conclusion that we would love to sell and find something cheaper and smaller, but not if it was just to not be here. It needs to make financial sense. Smaller but still having the same monthly expenses, is just not worth the upheaval. Like with the RV life-- We were going to be able to work significantly less with that lifestyle. We'd have a stash of cash and a set monthly expense, that we could alter simply by boondocking if needed or working a holiday season. So how can we replicate that without traumatizing me or the cat?
A mobile home park. The problem being 75% of them (here) are 55 and over. But we are persevering and talking with a realtor who knows which parks aren't 55+ and looking to find a home that isn't too shabby, a little more expensive than an RV but still will allow us to work less, with an HOA that would be much less than campground fees. If she can find us something we will sell...otherwise we just stay put. With the caveat...we will be enjoying life more by tapping into our savings. We will budget a certain amount each year for day trips or concerts or whatever to live a little when we aren't working.
I have a gyn visit soon and will discuss whether a hysterectomy could help--though based on internet searches, it won't stop the hormone imbalances, so why do it? Having a period isn't the problem it's the hormones that go with it. I can't take hormones--I have a clotting disorder, and like I said I may not want to be alive but I don't want to kill myself either. And I am considering seeing a holistic doctor. As weird as it sounds, why not? I can't take antidepressants but maybe something else can help me.
I thought of the perfect analogy to explain why I won't take antidepressants again: it's like life support. Living on a machine that breathes for you, a feeding tube...but you are trapped...you aren't living, you are alive. I was only alive when I was on antidepressants. I was not living. I didn't feel happy or sad. I mostly slept. That isn't how I want to live. That would be staying alive so others can have me in their lives...but I wouldn't really be living. And I won't go back to that. It sucked.
So there you have it. Not so short. Not so simple.
A side note to any readers who may feel like my dear sweet aunt felt ---if you read my blogs and think I am a "whack a doodle" (her word, not mine) maybe you should ask yourself what you are, since you keep coming back to read them?? Every hateful, hurtful bitch that I remove from my life brings me one step closer to a day when I am surrounded by people who only wish the best for me. It never stops feeling good to remove these cancerous people from my life! You should try it. Blood is a stupid reason to keep nasty people in your life.
Sunday, September 8, 2019
Full time RV'ers ..or not?
So I promised a post about the plan. Here's a quick synopsis.
The plan was to sell the house, buy an RV, live in it here for a year to see if it's too confining. We were going to keep working during this time, keep the cars and then if all went well, quit our jobs, sell the cars (this has now evolved to be keep one car until we see if we feel we need it) and hit the road.
We have been thinking about doing this for over a year. A zillow email with the estimate of our house's worth prompted us to light a fire under our ass. Our first stop was an RV lot. If they felt confining there would be no need for any more research. I had already researched what approximate cost of living would be. Factoring in everything, except healthcare, that's a necessary evil that I wasn't going to allow to stop us before we even started. But there is still a lot more research to do and I didn't want to waste time if the RV felt too small. So off to a lot we went and the RV's were much bigger than my 12 year old brain remembered from my neighbor's tiny one I played in as a kid. We were so excited to proceed with step 2.
The next step was to have a realtor come tell us how far off zillow was. He gave us really great feedback and our excitement continued to grow. However, he made it clear that if we couldn't list until November that we might as well wait until January. People don't buy that close to the holidays. So....what to do....rush or wait? With the housing market, you never know what will happen and with the moron running (I use that term loosely) our country it's more likely to be a shit show than not. So now the rush to get the necessities done by the end of the month. But...first we need to rent an RV. We need a real life experience, not just standing in one in an RV lot.
Renting an RV is to answer some simple questions.
Can I sleep in a tiny box? That's what the bedroom is like. I can be a bit claustrophobic so I need to know I can feel comfortable sleeping with walls so close, even with a slide out, the walls are still pretty close in the bedroom area.
How hard is it to drive? Will I ever want to drive it?
Will the cats be terrified driving around? I know it will take time to get used to it but their initial reactions shouldn't be too terrible or we may need to reconsider. We know the birds will be ok, they were in a cargo van road trip for 4 days and were fine.
Those are the questions renting can answer and then we can push forward with listing the house. Tomorrow is the earliest rental we could get that fit our schedules. And unfortunately renting a Class C was the economically reasonable way to go. It will be smaller on the inside, so if we can handle smaller, well obviously larger will be no problem. As for driving we are renting a 25 ft and the plan is to get 25-30 foot Class A (after much research). We are leaning towards getting the smallest we are comfortable in, because some national parks won't allow really big ones on some of the roads.
So tomorrow could signal the end of our next adventure or....the beginning.
We know 3 days isn't going to give us a true idea of what it will be like, that's why we plan to stay here for a while. I say a while because after discussing the whole year idea, Dave isn't sure he wants to summer here in an RV. So we have some options. One is for him to take an off site summer job. His current job sometimes has the need for employees to temporarily go to other locations. There is a housing stipend and a food stipend, so you actually make more money than if you stay and work your home location. It would be a good way to see what it feels like to be on the road but not quite on the road. It's usually a 2-4 month gig and we'd be making money. Or we can just start our adventure after 6 months instead of a year. The plan includes knowing that being on the road could change everything. It isn't going to be the same as living in an RV park. The expenses will be more and the whole experience will be different. If we hate it, nothing is forever...we sell the RV, buy a condo or smaller house and go back to a more "normal" way of living. Maybe we find somewhere along the way that we like as much as here but with less expensive housing options. Or maybe the housing market has crashed and we get back in while it's down. Who knows? But at least we got a year of travel out of it.
If we really enjoy it but are finding it more expensive than we anticipate, we have allowed for working either the holidays November thru December somewhere or working a summer at an amusement park (like Cedar Point!!). Or both if we have to. Working 5 months and seeing America, still beats working all year and never getting to vacation (our epileptic cat makes it extremely stressful to go away).
We have thought long and hard about this and have done every imaginable "What if?" scenario.
We know we will experience problems, but there are problems with owning a home. We don't want any regrets and we aren't getting any younger. It would be nice to do this while we can still hike the trails in the parks we will visit. The best part is: it isn't something that can't be undone. We are leaning towards buying a used RV for a few reasons. One being how quickly they lose value, the other being horrible reviews from people who bought new...it seems that new ones have a lot of kinks that need worked out, a lot of people suggest letting someone else deal with that hassle and you buying yours after they get those kinks out. Since we aren't sure we will love this life, it makes sense to start with a used one (let's not get crazy...we don't want a junker, so the plan is to get one just a couple of years old!)
Reactions have been mostly positive but we have gotten our fair share of "You are crazy!"
We are just tired of "living to work" to pay for a house that's too big and takes up most of our free time to take care of. We want to "live to live" now while we are young(ish). There is so much equity in our home right now it makes the most sense to use it to give this adventure a try. Worst case scenario...we end up buying a smaller place and going back to work for a few more years.
Stay tuned....we feel 95% sure this rental thing will go well...but you never know.
I won't let fear ever make my decisions for me....don't think I don't have moments of anxiety about the unknown road that lies ahead. But thanks to my brain...I have anxiety about nothing too, so I might as well just go for it!!
🎵🎵 On the road again...I can't wait to get on the road again... or something like that...
The plan was to sell the house, buy an RV, live in it here for a year to see if it's too confining. We were going to keep working during this time, keep the cars and then if all went well, quit our jobs, sell the cars (this has now evolved to be keep one car until we see if we feel we need it) and hit the road.
We have been thinking about doing this for over a year. A zillow email with the estimate of our house's worth prompted us to light a fire under our ass. Our first stop was an RV lot. If they felt confining there would be no need for any more research. I had already researched what approximate cost of living would be. Factoring in everything, except healthcare, that's a necessary evil that I wasn't going to allow to stop us before we even started. But there is still a lot more research to do and I didn't want to waste time if the RV felt too small. So off to a lot we went and the RV's were much bigger than my 12 year old brain remembered from my neighbor's tiny one I played in as a kid. We were so excited to proceed with step 2.
The next step was to have a realtor come tell us how far off zillow was. He gave us really great feedback and our excitement continued to grow. However, he made it clear that if we couldn't list until November that we might as well wait until January. People don't buy that close to the holidays. So....what to do....rush or wait? With the housing market, you never know what will happen and with the moron running (I use that term loosely) our country it's more likely to be a shit show than not. So now the rush to get the necessities done by the end of the month. But...first we need to rent an RV. We need a real life experience, not just standing in one in an RV lot.
Renting an RV is to answer some simple questions.
Can I sleep in a tiny box? That's what the bedroom is like. I can be a bit claustrophobic so I need to know I can feel comfortable sleeping with walls so close, even with a slide out, the walls are still pretty close in the bedroom area.
How hard is it to drive? Will I ever want to drive it?
Will the cats be terrified driving around? I know it will take time to get used to it but their initial reactions shouldn't be too terrible or we may need to reconsider. We know the birds will be ok, they were in a cargo van road trip for 4 days and were fine.
Those are the questions renting can answer and then we can push forward with listing the house. Tomorrow is the earliest rental we could get that fit our schedules. And unfortunately renting a Class C was the economically reasonable way to go. It will be smaller on the inside, so if we can handle smaller, well obviously larger will be no problem. As for driving we are renting a 25 ft and the plan is to get 25-30 foot Class A (after much research). We are leaning towards getting the smallest we are comfortable in, because some national parks won't allow really big ones on some of the roads.
So tomorrow could signal the end of our next adventure or....the beginning.
We know 3 days isn't going to give us a true idea of what it will be like, that's why we plan to stay here for a while. I say a while because after discussing the whole year idea, Dave isn't sure he wants to summer here in an RV. So we have some options. One is for him to take an off site summer job. His current job sometimes has the need for employees to temporarily go to other locations. There is a housing stipend and a food stipend, so you actually make more money than if you stay and work your home location. It would be a good way to see what it feels like to be on the road but not quite on the road. It's usually a 2-4 month gig and we'd be making money. Or we can just start our adventure after 6 months instead of a year. The plan includes knowing that being on the road could change everything. It isn't going to be the same as living in an RV park. The expenses will be more and the whole experience will be different. If we hate it, nothing is forever...we sell the RV, buy a condo or smaller house and go back to a more "normal" way of living. Maybe we find somewhere along the way that we like as much as here but with less expensive housing options. Or maybe the housing market has crashed and we get back in while it's down. Who knows? But at least we got a year of travel out of it.
If we really enjoy it but are finding it more expensive than we anticipate, we have allowed for working either the holidays November thru December somewhere or working a summer at an amusement park (like Cedar Point!!). Or both if we have to. Working 5 months and seeing America, still beats working all year and never getting to vacation (our epileptic cat makes it extremely stressful to go away).
We have thought long and hard about this and have done every imaginable "What if?" scenario.
We know we will experience problems, but there are problems with owning a home. We don't want any regrets and we aren't getting any younger. It would be nice to do this while we can still hike the trails in the parks we will visit. The best part is: it isn't something that can't be undone. We are leaning towards buying a used RV for a few reasons. One being how quickly they lose value, the other being horrible reviews from people who bought new...it seems that new ones have a lot of kinks that need worked out, a lot of people suggest letting someone else deal with that hassle and you buying yours after they get those kinks out. Since we aren't sure we will love this life, it makes sense to start with a used one (let's not get crazy...we don't want a junker, so the plan is to get one just a couple of years old!)
Reactions have been mostly positive but we have gotten our fair share of "You are crazy!"
We are just tired of "living to work" to pay for a house that's too big and takes up most of our free time to take care of. We want to "live to live" now while we are young(ish). There is so much equity in our home right now it makes the most sense to use it to give this adventure a try. Worst case scenario...we end up buying a smaller place and going back to work for a few more years.
Stay tuned....we feel 95% sure this rental thing will go well...but you never know.
I won't let fear ever make my decisions for me....don't think I don't have moments of anxiety about the unknown road that lies ahead. But thanks to my brain...I have anxiety about nothing too, so I might as well just go for it!!
🎵🎵 On the road again...I can't wait to get on the road again... or something like that...
Sunday, July 21, 2019
The Death of a Mistress: How to put an affair behind you
Thinking about writing a book with that as the title. Of course, writing books is time consuming and I barely make time for this blog, so I don't suggest holding your breath. ;)
So much to say.
I have been feeling really good for a long time (I know that's relative, so I will estimate nearly a month, yes, for me that's a long time). By feeling good I mean no sadness or anger or anxiety lasting more than a couple hours. That's amazing!
I can't decide where the credit goes. The possibilities are: Ashwaganda, new book I am reading, getting answers, meditation, hormones.
I have been taking Ashwaganda for almost 2 months now, someone at work suggested it. I researched it and thought "Why not?" I have ordered a second bottle that's how much I like feeling good. Just in case it is the reason, I will continue it. They are huge capsules that sometimes get stuck in my chest, but I can deal with it.
I had a period that lasted just about 2 weeks. It was a week late and then lingered forever. This means my hormones are all kinds of fucked up, so maybe that's why I have been spared the depression and anger.
Getting answers. This could be a blog in itself. So I will just briefly say that Dave went to see a hypnotist. The first session was a huge let down (for me, not him). Patience isn't my strong suit. The second a little more revealing, I went to the after hypnosis group meditation, more on that below. The third one revealed a bit more as well. I will always have unanswered questions but the book has made me realize that's not something I need to obsess about. The big questions got answers and with that may have finally brought the peace I needed. I will do a full blog as soon as time allows.
The book I somehow stumbled across (some online search brought me to a semi review of it) is The State of Affairs by Esther Perel. (who also wrote Mating in Captivity, which coincidentally a coworker just recommended to me, plan on reading that next). The single most important thing I got from this book is that happy people cheat. I have read so many damn books on affairs, read so much stuff online, he went to therapy for a year....and NO ONE says this. She provides real life examples of the observations she makes and it makes sense. I could also write a whole blog on this, so I will just simply leave it at that this one perspective changed our thinking. Luckily we were able to read it before his hypnosis sessions started because it aided in making his findings make sense. I felt very peaceful after reading it but it was short lived, as there was some anger episodes resulting from my disappointment with the first hypnosis session. But it definitely could have played a part in helping me move on. Even though she didn't suggest it, because of this book I came up with the idea for the funeral (more later).
Or, and I think this is the least likely, but I will throw it out there. It's the meditation. It was kind of hokey. Like you would imagine. We all closed our eyes and he counted down and lots of imagine you are going deeper stuff. Total session was an hour but not the total time "sleeping". As he took us down we were supposed to think of the one thing we would like to accomplish with the power of our mind. I chose having more control over my emotions, not letting hormones rule me. As we were coming out he kept reciting over and over that the past is the past and we should spend our energy on today yada yada....On the drive home I got a little angry at Dave for one of the revelations he shared with me from this hypnosis. And that is the last time I have gotten angry (screaming angry). I got upset going to the funeral, but it was a calmer upset. So did he "hypnotize" me into letting the past go, did I meditate my way into controlling my hormones?? Who knows.
I don't really care what the reason is, I will just be content to keep taking it day by day and hoping it lasts.
So that was a lot of writing to get to the title of the blog.
This book mentioned that some couples are able to recognize that the affair brought about good changes to their life and actually, not worship, but I can't remember the word she used...they give the mistress or what the hell do we call a guy mistress? anyway they give them a spot in their new life to thank them or appreciate them for what they did. I thought that was a little extreme but could see the importance of recognizing that this other person may have changed our relationship forever in a POSITIVE way. We both hate even saying that. But it is true. Somehow I leaped to having a a funeral for her as our way of thanking her. So we bought a doll at the dollar store, cut her hair to resemble Rachel's, colored her eyes brown, wrote an Aldi name tag for her and then incinerated that bitch...we didn't want to bury a plastic doll that would ruin the environment. We took her ashes to the overlook that they went to that day I worked and wondered if he was dead because he wasn't answering my texts and had went back to bed at 9 am because he didn't feel good. We wrote eulogies and spread her ashes.
I hadn't considered how painful the drive there would be. Me sitting in my seat...the one he let her sit in. Driving past my work like they did. And what a long fucking drive up that hill it is. How he could have drove so far and so long not thinking of what he was doing to me. I got upset. He remained calm and supportive. I collected myself once we got there and we were able to successfully have our funeral. He felt really good about it, I was still dealing with the car ride. Even back down it was hard. Such a long fucking drive, imagining them giddy after having made out and spent so much time together. The emotions lasted overnight but I was feeling much better the following night, it didn't help that my morning ride to work the fucking song came on (I want to know what love is). And that is the extent of any significant pain for the past month.
I am including some pics and our eulogies. It really was cathartic. Maybe even more than the confrontation at Aldi. I am so optimistic about our future. Everything is starting to feel right again.
His words:
Today we are here to bury Rachel Tamez (no need to protect the NOT innocent-my words)
While the memory of you will always remain, today we are ridding ourselves of the pain you caused. Your presence nearly destroyed our lives, And although I am mostly to blame, your part was equally as devastating. You made yourself available to me when I was vulnerable and I took advantage of your advances and you didn't stop me.
Through therapy, exploration, communication and dedication to self discovery, I have fought my way back from the pit of betrayal that we both shared. With the help of the only woman that has ever put me first, the only woman to ever love me unconditionally, with her help I am finally able to own my mistakes, be truly vulnerable and still love myself. Ann and I now have a foundation stronger than I ever thought possible. We will live out the rest of our lives happily and in love. So while my betrayal led to a deeper understanding of myself and set in motion a period of time in which my relationship with my wife became stronger, I give you, personally, no credit. So today we bury you and keep the lessons learned as we move on to our peaceful, happy lives.
My words.
The time has come to put Rachel Tamez to rest. She was an unwelcome addition to my life and someone Dave should have never let into his. Although her presence once brought him pleasure, it was replaced with pain. But with that pain came an understanding of what it means to be fully open with someone. Because of her he did finally learn what love is. Because of her we will have a stronger, fuller bond than we ever did. And with that will come a complete happiness, enjoyed by both of us, not just one.
Rachel may have brought the unthinkable to our relationship..infidelity. But with that she brought the ability to see what our relationship lacked. Although we believed we understood what communication meant, we didn't have as deep of an understanding as we do now. Rachel did fix Dave by allowing him to see where his faults were and do the work to grow into a better version of himself. He put in the time, with therapy and hypnosis and endless reading of difficult truths about affairs and has proven his commitment to us.
And while this ceremony will not mean an end to what we have learned from her, she will now take a quiet place in the recesses of our mind. She will be replaced in our daily life with everything we have learned because of her. The day will come when our relationship is so strong that there will never be another Rachel, not because opportunities won't arise but because we both have learned how to handle the Rachel's of tomorrow. Good bye Rachel, you are no longer needed in our daily lives. May we live in peace....and you rot in the hell you created you fucking whore cunt!
You see I had a tough time ending it politely... The underlined words reference lyrics they shared with each other.
Thanks for taking the time to read, I know it was a long one. Even rehashing it, I feel good. I hate to jinx it so I will just keep taking one day at a time. Enjoying the happiness I feel deep down to the core!!
Pics of the doll and the pyre.
So much to say.
I have been feeling really good for a long time (I know that's relative, so I will estimate nearly a month, yes, for me that's a long time). By feeling good I mean no sadness or anger or anxiety lasting more than a couple hours. That's amazing!
I can't decide where the credit goes. The possibilities are: Ashwaganda, new book I am reading, getting answers, meditation, hormones.
I have been taking Ashwaganda for almost 2 months now, someone at work suggested it. I researched it and thought "Why not?" I have ordered a second bottle that's how much I like feeling good. Just in case it is the reason, I will continue it. They are huge capsules that sometimes get stuck in my chest, but I can deal with it.
I had a period that lasted just about 2 weeks. It was a week late and then lingered forever. This means my hormones are all kinds of fucked up, so maybe that's why I have been spared the depression and anger.
Getting answers. This could be a blog in itself. So I will just briefly say that Dave went to see a hypnotist. The first session was a huge let down (for me, not him). Patience isn't my strong suit. The second a little more revealing, I went to the after hypnosis group meditation, more on that below. The third one revealed a bit more as well. I will always have unanswered questions but the book has made me realize that's not something I need to obsess about. The big questions got answers and with that may have finally brought the peace I needed. I will do a full blog as soon as time allows.
The book I somehow stumbled across (some online search brought me to a semi review of it) is The State of Affairs by Esther Perel. (who also wrote Mating in Captivity, which coincidentally a coworker just recommended to me, plan on reading that next). The single most important thing I got from this book is that happy people cheat. I have read so many damn books on affairs, read so much stuff online, he went to therapy for a year....and NO ONE says this. She provides real life examples of the observations she makes and it makes sense. I could also write a whole blog on this, so I will just simply leave it at that this one perspective changed our thinking. Luckily we were able to read it before his hypnosis sessions started because it aided in making his findings make sense. I felt very peaceful after reading it but it was short lived, as there was some anger episodes resulting from my disappointment with the first hypnosis session. But it definitely could have played a part in helping me move on. Even though she didn't suggest it, because of this book I came up with the idea for the funeral (more later).
Or, and I think this is the least likely, but I will throw it out there. It's the meditation. It was kind of hokey. Like you would imagine. We all closed our eyes and he counted down and lots of imagine you are going deeper stuff. Total session was an hour but not the total time "sleeping". As he took us down we were supposed to think of the one thing we would like to accomplish with the power of our mind. I chose having more control over my emotions, not letting hormones rule me. As we were coming out he kept reciting over and over that the past is the past and we should spend our energy on today yada yada....On the drive home I got a little angry at Dave for one of the revelations he shared with me from this hypnosis. And that is the last time I have gotten angry (screaming angry). I got upset going to the funeral, but it was a calmer upset. So did he "hypnotize" me into letting the past go, did I meditate my way into controlling my hormones?? Who knows.
I don't really care what the reason is, I will just be content to keep taking it day by day and hoping it lasts.
So that was a lot of writing to get to the title of the blog.
This book mentioned that some couples are able to recognize that the affair brought about good changes to their life and actually, not worship, but I can't remember the word she used...they give the mistress or what the hell do we call a guy mistress? anyway they give them a spot in their new life to thank them or appreciate them for what they did. I thought that was a little extreme but could see the importance of recognizing that this other person may have changed our relationship forever in a POSITIVE way. We both hate even saying that. But it is true. Somehow I leaped to having a a funeral for her as our way of thanking her. So we bought a doll at the dollar store, cut her hair to resemble Rachel's, colored her eyes brown, wrote an Aldi name tag for her and then incinerated that bitch...we didn't want to bury a plastic doll that would ruin the environment. We took her ashes to the overlook that they went to that day I worked and wondered if he was dead because he wasn't answering my texts and had went back to bed at 9 am because he didn't feel good. We wrote eulogies and spread her ashes.
I hadn't considered how painful the drive there would be. Me sitting in my seat...the one he let her sit in. Driving past my work like they did. And what a long fucking drive up that hill it is. How he could have drove so far and so long not thinking of what he was doing to me. I got upset. He remained calm and supportive. I collected myself once we got there and we were able to successfully have our funeral. He felt really good about it, I was still dealing with the car ride. Even back down it was hard. Such a long fucking drive, imagining them giddy after having made out and spent so much time together. The emotions lasted overnight but I was feeling much better the following night, it didn't help that my morning ride to work the fucking song came on (I want to know what love is). And that is the extent of any significant pain for the past month.
I am including some pics and our eulogies. It really was cathartic. Maybe even more than the confrontation at Aldi. I am so optimistic about our future. Everything is starting to feel right again.
His words:
Today we are here to bury Rachel Tamez (no need to protect the NOT innocent-my words)
While the memory of you will always remain, today we are ridding ourselves of the pain you caused. Your presence nearly destroyed our lives, And although I am mostly to blame, your part was equally as devastating. You made yourself available to me when I was vulnerable and I took advantage of your advances and you didn't stop me.
Through therapy, exploration, communication and dedication to self discovery, I have fought my way back from the pit of betrayal that we both shared. With the help of the only woman that has ever put me first, the only woman to ever love me unconditionally, with her help I am finally able to own my mistakes, be truly vulnerable and still love myself. Ann and I now have a foundation stronger than I ever thought possible. We will live out the rest of our lives happily and in love. So while my betrayal led to a deeper understanding of myself and set in motion a period of time in which my relationship with my wife became stronger, I give you, personally, no credit. So today we bury you and keep the lessons learned as we move on to our peaceful, happy lives.
My words.
The time has come to put Rachel Tamez to rest. She was an unwelcome addition to my life and someone Dave should have never let into his. Although her presence once brought him pleasure, it was replaced with pain. But with that pain came an understanding of what it means to be fully open with someone. Because of her he did finally learn what love is. Because of her we will have a stronger, fuller bond than we ever did. And with that will come a complete happiness, enjoyed by both of us, not just one.
Rachel may have brought the unthinkable to our relationship..infidelity. But with that she brought the ability to see what our relationship lacked. Although we believed we understood what communication meant, we didn't have as deep of an understanding as we do now. Rachel did fix Dave by allowing him to see where his faults were and do the work to grow into a better version of himself. He put in the time, with therapy and hypnosis and endless reading of difficult truths about affairs and has proven his commitment to us.
And while this ceremony will not mean an end to what we have learned from her, she will now take a quiet place in the recesses of our mind. She will be replaced in our daily life with everything we have learned because of her. The day will come when our relationship is so strong that there will never be another Rachel, not because opportunities won't arise but because we both have learned how to handle the Rachel's of tomorrow. Good bye Rachel, you are no longer needed in our daily lives. May we live in peace....and you rot in the hell you created you fucking whore cunt!
You see I had a tough time ending it politely... The underlined words reference lyrics they shared with each other.
Thanks for taking the time to read, I know it was a long one. Even rehashing it, I feel good. I hate to jinx it so I will just keep taking one day at a time. Enjoying the happiness I feel deep down to the core!!
Pics of the doll and the pyre.
Thursday, July 11, 2019
Super short update
I have some new positive things to share but: A) Don't want to jinx it yet and B) I don't have the time for a lengthy blog today.
So keep an eye out for a super happy positive blog about the power of hypnosis/meditation and who I am throwing a funeral for and why.....
In the meantime watch Sister of the Bride on Hallmark...you will definitely see my husband in the background of the wedding scene--right behind Michael Gross and you may catch me in a scene or two.
Peri menopause is getting on my last nerve, but at least it hasn't been affecting my mood lately...fingers crossed that continues!
So keep an eye out for a super happy positive blog about the power of hypnosis/meditation and who I am throwing a funeral for and why.....
In the meantime watch Sister of the Bride on Hallmark...you will definitely see my husband in the background of the wedding scene--right behind Michael Gross and you may catch me in a scene or two.
Peri menopause is getting on my last nerve, but at least it hasn't been affecting my mood lately...fingers crossed that continues!
Thursday, June 6, 2019
Long time no write...
I took the day off because I had a colonoscopy yesterday and was afraid of how I'd feel today...and it was a night shift and I still don't like to work night shifts (so it was really mostly that, but hey it's a good excuse)
First off...it is such an easy thing to do to give yourself peace of mind that you don't have a horrible disease lurking inside you, so just do it!!
Over the years I have heard and relayed to my patients that the worst part is drinking the prep stuff. Now I know I was giving accurate advice. OMG that shit is awful! I hate gatorade so that doesn't help...it's like the sweetest drink with a salty aftertaste. Lessons learned: no need to drink it fast, so DON'T, use a straw, follow each sip with a gulp of water. And it really is the worst part. I ate almost 2 small boxes of jello and that's it, wasn't really overly hungry. Not drinking after midnight was a bit tough, I hate having a dry mouth. Other than that no big deal...I mean my overthinking brain worried about all the ways I could die from the procedure or the anesthesia, but I survived with a clean bill of health and no need to do it again for 10 years! WOOHOOOOO
What about the rest of my life?
The usual.
Ups and downs.
Sometimes I get so tired of not having control. I've had more suicidal thoughts in the last few months then in I don't know how many years. And not because I don't want to live. But because of the frustration and realization that this is what my life is. I have depression. It's a life long condition. I have revisited the idea of antidepressants and to me that isn't living. I remember that life and it sucked. I don't define life as just being here and breathing. I want to be present. I don't want to take pills so I can take up space and just be here. I tried CBD, didn't do anything. I am now trying ashwaganda. It's from a plant. I want everyone to know I AM TRYING. I am a fighter. It's why I am still here. Sometimes I get tired of fighting and that's when the thoughts come, that the only way out is ....out. But I know I want to be here. I used to get through it by telling myself it wouldn't last forever, one day menopause would come and with it relief. I don't believe that anymore, so it's been hard dealing with that. I try to remind myself the lows don't last forever. But when you are in it, you think it is forever. I try to tell myself the good days are more frequent than the bad. But when you are in it, it doesn't feel that way.
The tattoo has helped. I have looked at and thought I don't want my body found with this and someone think "she failed". And why I think I would care what anyone thinks when I am dead is just stupid, but hey if it keeps me from doing something stupid, I'll take it. I also look at it and ask myself "Is this how I want my story to end?" Sometimes that's enough. Other times I tell myself to shut up and stop being poetic and gushy that life sucks and dig deeper into my misery.
It helped me be less anxious about dying during the colonoscopy, because I knew it would be an end to this roller coaster. I would finally be at peace.
It's not what I want. I want to live. I am more and more optimistic about my marriage than ever. What I want is just another thing I can't have and I have to accept it. I will never have a life long love not marred by infidelity (I mean being 90 and having spent 50 years of fidelity together--can't happen...I am too old to have that with someone new) and I will never be someone who doesn't suffer with depression. I actually think the first one is much easier to accept. I know I can still have many years of happiness in this marriage, without either of us failing each other. What I don't know is if I can survive every low that will come my way in the future, every completely out of my control low. Doesn't matter how I think, doesn't even matter if I took antidepressants, there will be lows. And what I don't know is if my brain will fail me and succumb to the lure of wanting to escape them forever.
I am in a good place now and can't imagine failing but it wasn't that long ago that the urges were strong and I still can feel myself fighting them and knowing how hard it was. And how unsure I was. And how they sometimes pop up at unexpected moments, hoping to catch me off guard so I won't even know I need to fight. Filling my head with weird ways to end it.
Switching gears: I learned something new about anxiety. A friend shared a post on facebook that made me look at anxiety, well really anger, in a different way. It seems quite obvious in retrospect, but sometimes I need things spelled out for me. Our relationship has been doing much better but I still have rage episodes, actually it's fair to call them extreme anger now, I think the rage is pretty much gone. I get so angry and the anger just builds and I feel helpless to stop it. I feel like I have forgiven him for most of what he did. I still haven't been able to forgive the flat out lying when I was crying and telling him how real it felt that he was cheating and him blaming my hormones. That is going to take a long time, if ever, to forgive. It is the most heartless thing he did. So I get confused as to why I can still get sooooo mad when so much time has passed and we have come so far. This post was a woman explaining anxiety to a partner. (I'll see if I can find a link and put it at the bottom). One of the things she mentioned was that anxiety is fear (duh) and that fear can be expressed as anger...hmmm...I have started paying attention. When I am yelling, it is fear. I am still so afraid. Afraid I may be wrong about him, wrong to give him yet another chance. Even though all of the evidence suggests otherwise, he's doing everything right. There is still fear. If I can stop and remind myself that I am not angry, I am scared, I think I can finally stop the yelling. The yelling hurts both of us, he has suggested it hurts me more than him and I think he's right. Physically it is so detrimental to me. I feel my heart racing, my head throbbing, nausea, I dig my nails into my palms, wanting to feel real pain instead of just emotional pain, my throat hurts, my eyes hurt. And I hate myself for feeling out of control. It is definitely not good for me. Or us. He claims he goes to a calm place, listening but somehow protecting himself. I worry he will grow tired of it, Tired of feeling bad about himself, because everything I scream at him is true. There's no denying that. But I have come to terms with it, accepted it and that's why I hate that I feel like I can't stop myself. I don't want to hurt him anymore. I am hoping if I remind myself that it's fear, I can just ask for comfort instead of feeling the need to lash out.
In a few days we will have another anniversary. 23 years together, 18 married. I try not to think about it too much because I still haven't figured out a way to celebrate that doesn't feel like a lie. I feel like an anniversary should be about celebrating the day you made promises to each other, but if those promises weren't kept, what are we celebrating? I need to find another way to look at it but I have yet to find a way around that question.
We will see how it goes. At least hormones shouldn't be an issue....last month was a doozy, but a period is just ending so I should have at least a few days of peace.
here's the link...hope I did it right!
https://www.lovewhatmatters.com/shes-not-broken-to-the-man-whose-wife-or-partner-has-anxiety/?fbclid=IwAR0Y64l09c7affzn6I8EcJ4fZGNJS7fOGntd-G7ctcZ-PVDMQ-pxASineug
First off...it is such an easy thing to do to give yourself peace of mind that you don't have a horrible disease lurking inside you, so just do it!!
Over the years I have heard and relayed to my patients that the worst part is drinking the prep stuff. Now I know I was giving accurate advice. OMG that shit is awful! I hate gatorade so that doesn't help...it's like the sweetest drink with a salty aftertaste. Lessons learned: no need to drink it fast, so DON'T, use a straw, follow each sip with a gulp of water. And it really is the worst part. I ate almost 2 small boxes of jello and that's it, wasn't really overly hungry. Not drinking after midnight was a bit tough, I hate having a dry mouth. Other than that no big deal...I mean my overthinking brain worried about all the ways I could die from the procedure or the anesthesia, but I survived with a clean bill of health and no need to do it again for 10 years! WOOHOOOOO
What about the rest of my life?
The usual.
Ups and downs.
Sometimes I get so tired of not having control. I've had more suicidal thoughts in the last few months then in I don't know how many years. And not because I don't want to live. But because of the frustration and realization that this is what my life is. I have depression. It's a life long condition. I have revisited the idea of antidepressants and to me that isn't living. I remember that life and it sucked. I don't define life as just being here and breathing. I want to be present. I don't want to take pills so I can take up space and just be here. I tried CBD, didn't do anything. I am now trying ashwaganda. It's from a plant. I want everyone to know I AM TRYING. I am a fighter. It's why I am still here. Sometimes I get tired of fighting and that's when the thoughts come, that the only way out is ....out. But I know I want to be here. I used to get through it by telling myself it wouldn't last forever, one day menopause would come and with it relief. I don't believe that anymore, so it's been hard dealing with that. I try to remind myself the lows don't last forever. But when you are in it, you think it is forever. I try to tell myself the good days are more frequent than the bad. But when you are in it, it doesn't feel that way.
The tattoo has helped. I have looked at and thought I don't want my body found with this and someone think "she failed". And why I think I would care what anyone thinks when I am dead is just stupid, but hey if it keeps me from doing something stupid, I'll take it. I also look at it and ask myself "Is this how I want my story to end?" Sometimes that's enough. Other times I tell myself to shut up and stop being poetic and gushy that life sucks and dig deeper into my misery.
It helped me be less anxious about dying during the colonoscopy, because I knew it would be an end to this roller coaster. I would finally be at peace.
It's not what I want. I want to live. I am more and more optimistic about my marriage than ever. What I want is just another thing I can't have and I have to accept it. I will never have a life long love not marred by infidelity (I mean being 90 and having spent 50 years of fidelity together--can't happen...I am too old to have that with someone new) and I will never be someone who doesn't suffer with depression. I actually think the first one is much easier to accept. I know I can still have many years of happiness in this marriage, without either of us failing each other. What I don't know is if I can survive every low that will come my way in the future, every completely out of my control low. Doesn't matter how I think, doesn't even matter if I took antidepressants, there will be lows. And what I don't know is if my brain will fail me and succumb to the lure of wanting to escape them forever.
I am in a good place now and can't imagine failing but it wasn't that long ago that the urges were strong and I still can feel myself fighting them and knowing how hard it was. And how unsure I was. And how they sometimes pop up at unexpected moments, hoping to catch me off guard so I won't even know I need to fight. Filling my head with weird ways to end it.
Switching gears: I learned something new about anxiety. A friend shared a post on facebook that made me look at anxiety, well really anger, in a different way. It seems quite obvious in retrospect, but sometimes I need things spelled out for me. Our relationship has been doing much better but I still have rage episodes, actually it's fair to call them extreme anger now, I think the rage is pretty much gone. I get so angry and the anger just builds and I feel helpless to stop it. I feel like I have forgiven him for most of what he did. I still haven't been able to forgive the flat out lying when I was crying and telling him how real it felt that he was cheating and him blaming my hormones. That is going to take a long time, if ever, to forgive. It is the most heartless thing he did. So I get confused as to why I can still get sooooo mad when so much time has passed and we have come so far. This post was a woman explaining anxiety to a partner. (I'll see if I can find a link and put it at the bottom). One of the things she mentioned was that anxiety is fear (duh) and that fear can be expressed as anger...hmmm...I have started paying attention. When I am yelling, it is fear. I am still so afraid. Afraid I may be wrong about him, wrong to give him yet another chance. Even though all of the evidence suggests otherwise, he's doing everything right. There is still fear. If I can stop and remind myself that I am not angry, I am scared, I think I can finally stop the yelling. The yelling hurts both of us, he has suggested it hurts me more than him and I think he's right. Physically it is so detrimental to me. I feel my heart racing, my head throbbing, nausea, I dig my nails into my palms, wanting to feel real pain instead of just emotional pain, my throat hurts, my eyes hurt. And I hate myself for feeling out of control. It is definitely not good for me. Or us. He claims he goes to a calm place, listening but somehow protecting himself. I worry he will grow tired of it, Tired of feeling bad about himself, because everything I scream at him is true. There's no denying that. But I have come to terms with it, accepted it and that's why I hate that I feel like I can't stop myself. I don't want to hurt him anymore. I am hoping if I remind myself that it's fear, I can just ask for comfort instead of feeling the need to lash out.
In a few days we will have another anniversary. 23 years together, 18 married. I try not to think about it too much because I still haven't figured out a way to celebrate that doesn't feel like a lie. I feel like an anniversary should be about celebrating the day you made promises to each other, but if those promises weren't kept, what are we celebrating? I need to find another way to look at it but I have yet to find a way around that question.
We will see how it goes. At least hormones shouldn't be an issue....last month was a doozy, but a period is just ending so I should have at least a few days of peace.
here's the link...hope I did it right!
https://www.lovewhatmatters.com/shes-not-broken-to-the-man-whose-wife-or-partner-has-anxiety/?fbclid=IwAR0Y64l09c7affzn6I8EcJ4fZGNJS7fOGntd-G7ctcZ-PVDMQ-pxASineug
Thursday, February 14, 2019
My First Tattoo
I took the plunge and got a tattoo. I saw it a while ago but was a little scared of the whole pain issue. The article came up again in my fb feed and I suddenly just knew I needed it. After my recent bout with depression and interaction with the clueless customer, it just felt like the right time.
You may have seen the story. It's about the meaning behind semi colon tattoos. A woman who lost her dad to suicide started Project Semicolon as a way to bring more awareness to suicide. It has grown to include anyone who wants to show support for all mental health issues. Survivors of failed suicide attempts, people who have lost loved ones to suicide, people who suffer with depression or even just have loved ones with depression, I suppose if someone is lucky enough to not fit into any of those groups, it would also apply to people who just support removing the stigma associated with mental illness.
I was just going to get the simple semi colon but a google image search showed many creative ways of incorporating the semi colon into a tattoo. When I was researching why she chose the semi colon I realized it was relevant to me in other ways. To quote Amy Bluel (the founder of the project): "A semi colon is used when an author could've chosen to end their sentence, but chose not to. The author is you, and the sentence is your life."
For me the sentence is both my life and my marriage. I have chosen not to end either. So I found an image of a heart with a semi colon as it's side (photo at bottom, not mine, it's still wrapped in the plastic bandage...I was thinking I'd be writing this in a few days when I had off work and the bandage would be gone but it's raining cats, dogs and everything else here in the Coachella Valley and I couldn't make it to work due to flooded roads, so here I am!).
I thought it was especially fitting being the day before Valentine's day. I think the past--how many months has it been? guess it's a good sign I don't count any more-- anyway the fact that I am here and still trying (both in life and my marriage) is a sign that I am committed to continuing to fight, but I am hoping in the dark times it can serve as a visual reminder--that I am not alone in my fight, that I am a fighter and that somewhere inside of me I know I don't want the sentence to end.
In the past week I came to a realization that is going to probably sound hard to believe. I am an educated person, with some psychology courses and tons of self help books and years of therapy.,
I know a lot about depression. But just this week it hit me. There is no cure for depression. Just as there's no cure for alcoholism. It is treatable but not curable. Why have I never thought of it that way? I mean I knew it...but somehow I never considered what that meant.
I first started with suicidal thoughts back in about the 5th grade. But from what I can remember, it wasn't because of depression. I don't remember feeling sad either. I just hated being alive. I had lots of faith back then. I had so many conversations with God, begging to know why there had to be so many things wrong with me. Why did he curse me with so many faults? Red hair, freckles, glasses, pimples, yellow teeth (ok that was on me) and being scrawny for my age. The only thing going for me was that I was smart. And in middle school that is not an asset. To add insult to injury, my younger sister was everything I wasn't. Boys fell all over her (yes even in the 3rd grade). In the 9th grade my confidence grew a bit when a coach "discovered" some running talent, but that was short lived when I started developing thighs. At least by that point I had a boyfriend. I don't remember being depressed in high school or college, but I wasn't happy go lucky. My self esteem took a hit when a new boyfriend constantly told me I could never do better than him (and he wasn't all that) and I ended up overlooking his infidelity and marrying him. I had a diary from those years and I would definitely say I had started suffering with depression, but didn't know it., I blamed being married to a depressed man. It was only after I left my husband that I would be diagnosed and it was kind of implied that it was a post partum thing. I was on antidepressants for years and in therapy for years. Again blaming something other than myself. Once I was finally able to leave my career I thought I was "better". I was happier and learning to be less cynical and to even be optimistic. I had bad days, but I blamed them on the perimenopause. I told myself once I was in full menopause all of that would go away. But I now realize that is highly unlikely.
I realize that all of those time frames from my younger years that I believed to be situational depression were probably chemical imbalances, out of my control. I have been denying that this is part of me. That most likely I was born this way. I can't outgrow it, I can only manage it.
It was very sobering to realize I can live 50 more years and I will never be "over depression". It will always be there, like a dormant virus, waiting to be activated. Maybe I will go months, maybe even years but it will ALWAYS be there. I use Rick Springfield as an example. He's 69 (yeah..still looks great!) and he STILL has suicidal thoughts. He is as self aware of his problems as you can be. It doesn't matter. Knowing you have the potential to fall into the pit, doesn't help you at all when you start to slip. It's so frustrating. I guess I shouldn't say it doesn't help at all. Because of how aware I am, I know to let people know I have this disease. The more people who know the less likely it will go unnoticed if I start to fall too far. That's what this disease needs. People on the outside watching out for us. For the times we can't help ourselves. We won't ask. And that's why sharing 800 numbers isn't enough. YOU...YOU need to ask those you know that suffer. Really ask. If they don't look alright, if they act a little different..and not just sad...maybe they are TOO happy. You can see the changes if you look. If it feels off, it probably IS off. The right question, the persistent question could save their life.
That's another reason I got the tattoo. I want others to know they can share with me. I am an ear, I am a shoulder. I also plan to point to it if another person dares to tell me to smile when it's all I can do to breathe. I will point and suggest they google the meaning.
As for the pain...none. Electric fences are more painful. I know I tend to have a high tolerance for pain in some situations and I guess tattoos are on that list, because it seriously was less painful than a dog collar shocker thingy (don't ask). It was quick so I am sure that helped, barely 15 minutes, if that. It's the size of a nickel and on my inner right wrist.
As always, thanks for reading!!
You may have seen the story. It's about the meaning behind semi colon tattoos. A woman who lost her dad to suicide started Project Semicolon as a way to bring more awareness to suicide. It has grown to include anyone who wants to show support for all mental health issues. Survivors of failed suicide attempts, people who have lost loved ones to suicide, people who suffer with depression or even just have loved ones with depression, I suppose if someone is lucky enough to not fit into any of those groups, it would also apply to people who just support removing the stigma associated with mental illness.
I was just going to get the simple semi colon but a google image search showed many creative ways of incorporating the semi colon into a tattoo. When I was researching why she chose the semi colon I realized it was relevant to me in other ways. To quote Amy Bluel (the founder of the project): "A semi colon is used when an author could've chosen to end their sentence, but chose not to. The author is you, and the sentence is your life."
For me the sentence is both my life and my marriage. I have chosen not to end either. So I found an image of a heart with a semi colon as it's side (photo at bottom, not mine, it's still wrapped in the plastic bandage...I was thinking I'd be writing this in a few days when I had off work and the bandage would be gone but it's raining cats, dogs and everything else here in the Coachella Valley and I couldn't make it to work due to flooded roads, so here I am!).
I thought it was especially fitting being the day before Valentine's day. I think the past--how many months has it been? guess it's a good sign I don't count any more-- anyway the fact that I am here and still trying (both in life and my marriage) is a sign that I am committed to continuing to fight, but I am hoping in the dark times it can serve as a visual reminder--that I am not alone in my fight, that I am a fighter and that somewhere inside of me I know I don't want the sentence to end.
In the past week I came to a realization that is going to probably sound hard to believe. I am an educated person, with some psychology courses and tons of self help books and years of therapy.,
I know a lot about depression. But just this week it hit me. There is no cure for depression. Just as there's no cure for alcoholism. It is treatable but not curable. Why have I never thought of it that way? I mean I knew it...but somehow I never considered what that meant.
I first started with suicidal thoughts back in about the 5th grade. But from what I can remember, it wasn't because of depression. I don't remember feeling sad either. I just hated being alive. I had lots of faith back then. I had so many conversations with God, begging to know why there had to be so many things wrong with me. Why did he curse me with so many faults? Red hair, freckles, glasses, pimples, yellow teeth (ok that was on me) and being scrawny for my age. The only thing going for me was that I was smart. And in middle school that is not an asset. To add insult to injury, my younger sister was everything I wasn't. Boys fell all over her (yes even in the 3rd grade). In the 9th grade my confidence grew a bit when a coach "discovered" some running talent, but that was short lived when I started developing thighs. At least by that point I had a boyfriend. I don't remember being depressed in high school or college, but I wasn't happy go lucky. My self esteem took a hit when a new boyfriend constantly told me I could never do better than him (and he wasn't all that) and I ended up overlooking his infidelity and marrying him. I had a diary from those years and I would definitely say I had started suffering with depression, but didn't know it., I blamed being married to a depressed man. It was only after I left my husband that I would be diagnosed and it was kind of implied that it was a post partum thing. I was on antidepressants for years and in therapy for years. Again blaming something other than myself. Once I was finally able to leave my career I thought I was "better". I was happier and learning to be less cynical and to even be optimistic. I had bad days, but I blamed them on the perimenopause. I told myself once I was in full menopause all of that would go away. But I now realize that is highly unlikely.
I realize that all of those time frames from my younger years that I believed to be situational depression were probably chemical imbalances, out of my control. I have been denying that this is part of me. That most likely I was born this way. I can't outgrow it, I can only manage it.
It was very sobering to realize I can live 50 more years and I will never be "over depression". It will always be there, like a dormant virus, waiting to be activated. Maybe I will go months, maybe even years but it will ALWAYS be there. I use Rick Springfield as an example. He's 69 (yeah..still looks great!) and he STILL has suicidal thoughts. He is as self aware of his problems as you can be. It doesn't matter. Knowing you have the potential to fall into the pit, doesn't help you at all when you start to slip. It's so frustrating. I guess I shouldn't say it doesn't help at all. Because of how aware I am, I know to let people know I have this disease. The more people who know the less likely it will go unnoticed if I start to fall too far. That's what this disease needs. People on the outside watching out for us. For the times we can't help ourselves. We won't ask. And that's why sharing 800 numbers isn't enough. YOU...YOU need to ask those you know that suffer. Really ask. If they don't look alright, if they act a little different..and not just sad...maybe they are TOO happy. You can see the changes if you look. If it feels off, it probably IS off. The right question, the persistent question could save their life.
That's another reason I got the tattoo. I want others to know they can share with me. I am an ear, I am a shoulder. I also plan to point to it if another person dares to tell me to smile when it's all I can do to breathe. I will point and suggest they google the meaning.
As for the pain...none. Electric fences are more painful. I know I tend to have a high tolerance for pain in some situations and I guess tattoos are on that list, because it seriously was less painful than a dog collar shocker thingy (don't ask). It was quick so I am sure that helped, barely 15 minutes, if that. It's the size of a nickel and on my inner right wrist.
As always, thanks for reading!!
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