Sometimes

Sometimes it's OK to breakdown a little bit when you are going through the really hard times. Sometimes that little bit of breakdown gives you the relief that you need, lets you bleed off some of the stress and lets you be able to pick everything back up and lets you go on. It's not the breakdowns that define us. It's what you do next.

The things that matter to me today.

Today I'm going to post about things that I am really enjoying, or really upset about, etc. I have a post coming about Amtrak and my husband's adventures with them, but that will get written tomorrow. Today is about other things.

I have a family member with Down Syndrome. I have known many people with various disabilities all my life.  That's why I use people first language and I don't use the word retard, hereafter know as the R-word. The movie The Change-up has a passage where one of the characters uses the R-word and "downsy" to describe a child. This really upset me, but Rob at Fighting Monsters with Rubber Swords said it better than me.

To get more information about what you can do to end the use of the R-word as a insult, punchline or to describe something as lesser than, check out Spread the Word to End the Word

This is their PSA.

Jen from Cakewrecks and Epbot usually makes me laugh. This post that she posted about her grandfather made me cry. And if you knew how much I hate to cry you would know why that's  a big deal. Go read it. Even if you hate to cry. You will be glad that you did.


I love to read. That's why I got myself a Nook for my birthday. I love to read mysteries and books with strong female characters. The Mary Russell books, written by Laurie R. King meet both of those criteria. There is a blog and Twitter, @mary_russell, that are "written" by the character.  The premise of the series is that Mary Russell meets Sherlock Holmes when she is a girl of 15 and he is in his 50s (I think it is). He takes her in as an apprentice, and they eventually marry. The books take place in the early 1900s, from the time of WWI, and into the 20s. There's a new one coming out soon, and a Twitter tea party. Check them out.

These are a few of the things that matter to me today. There are a lot of political things, but I'm done ranting today. Feel free to continue to visit me and share some things that matter to you. If you like me, let me know. I love validation. If you don't then just lie to me.

You can follow me on Twitter if you want, I'm occasionally witty there. @tetisheri1972

Oh wow! I have had 32 hits in the past day. That's the most I have ever had in a 24 hours period. I'm guessing that it's because I've commented on some blogs and a few other things lately. Well, hello to all you people. I hope that you stay, which of course means that I need to get back into the habit of posting more than once a month or two.

I'm just going to blame it on summer break. The Boy has been home since June. School starts back again in a couple weeks. I'm just thrilled about it. I love having him home, but the last couple weeks of summer are just stressful. We all start picking at each other. I joke around that I love my son more when school in session. It's kind of a joke, and kind of night. Getting space from each other helps The Boy and me breathe for a minute or two. We are too much  alike, right down to our primary diagnoses.

In other news, we're driving down to Boston today to pick up DH at the train station. I sent him back to Indiana for a couple of weeks vacation. I am too smart to visit IN in August, and frankly I have no desire to visit his friends. Anyone I would have wanted to see doesn't live in that section of the state anyway. So, I stayed home. I got a break from him, which was nice.

I hate driving in Boston. I hate driving *to* Boston. I've managed to avoid it for 8 years up until 2 weeks ago, and here I am doing it 2x in 1 month. Sigh. Oh well. He's ready to come home, and I'm ready to see him. He had to get on the bus at 1 am. He will pull into Boston at 9 pm.

The Boy and I are going to drive down. I'll take my music, he'll use my laptop and watch movies all the way down and back. That will make the whole trip so much easier.

So, I'll work on remembering to post more often. Hopefully some of you people will stay around, and read my blog. If you like me let me know. I love validation. If you don't like me, lie. :)

Journeys Through the Interwebz

I pretty much live on the Internet. I cruise it, I work on it, I play it. I often joke with DH that if we lived in a cyberpunk world I would be a serious net junkie. I would just be jacked in all the time. I do actually get away now and again. I read books. I play video games. The Boy complains now and again about how much time I spend on the net. I think mostly because if I'm on the net he can't ask to use my computer.

I love the Internet is basically what I'm saying. I'm also a huge geek. I love Firefly, scifi, the Muppets, Star Wars (Han shot first!) and all the classic geek kind of things. There are a lot of blogs that I follow, something like 50 or so. Maybe more. I've never counted them.

Today, instead of being a negative Nellie, like I often am, I decided that I would share some of my favorite things.

I had never read Game of Thrones, although DH had, before the show came out. We watched the entire season, and I love it. Which is why I love this! Muppets Game of Thrones.

This is one of my favorite blogs ever. Well it's actually two blogs written by the same people. Jen and her husband originally started with Cake Wrecks, and then she decided to share her inner geekgirl with Epbot. If you love Steampunk and Disney and other fun geek stuff, this is the place to go.

I love the scifi convention world, even if I haven't been to a con in a while. But, you always see female warriors, or warrior wannabes, in chain mail bikinis. Yeah, that's how they are often pictured in comic books and illustrations and such. So I loved this a lot.





I think that's enough for today.

WTG New York!

New York is the latest state to allow gay marriage. 6 down, 44 to go, including my state of Maine, where it was legal for one brief shining moment, until the peoples' veto changed that. But it will be again.

Anyway, Mazel Tov!

Everything old is new again

Or: Didn't we just do this?

This is the first full week of summer break. I hate summer break. I am a strong proponent for year round school. The first couple of weeks are always tough as we try to find a routine to fall into. Meanwhile I am really happy I don't have to wake up at 6 anymore. Yay! Not a morning person, not at all. But that's not really the this we are doing again.

So Monday DH tells me that he is having an anxious day. OK, it happens. He can't settle into a book or TV. Still, whatever, it happens. Then he decided to call the crisis line at 8:45 pm. They tell him they will have someone out to evaluate him but not until 11 pm. OK. So that time comes and goes. He calls them back, oh wait they won't have anyone until 1 am at the earliest. He told them he would call back in the morning.

Tuesday morning he calls back because he isn't feeling any better. So they come and evaluate him. First they tell him that they have a bed in a crisis house about 25 miles away. That means a nice break for me. But wait! They have one here in town. That means he keeps pressuring me to visit him. I don't want to. I hate hospital visits and things like that. They only way I can manage the hospital is that they have WiFi and I have a laptop. He can watch TV and we really don't have to talk. It's all good. But at the crisis house we sit in a room where anyone can walk in and out and if other people have visitors they are there too. He sits and stares at me, which can I just say for the record how much I hate that? I have to talk to him and entertain him, or he just sits there and stares at me. I don't think I emphasized before exactly how much I hate that. So, I keep having excuses why I can't go visit him a mile away. Because I think if I tell him I just really don't want to that it will hurt him. OK, he gets a break, so I get a break.

On the plus side this little break convinced him that ECT is good and he's going to go back to taking it in August. Good.

Meanwhile he hasn't gotten a go home date from the crisis house. They are a short term facility. No more than 7 days, and 3-5 is their usual. His time will be up Tuesday. If they don't think he should go home then we are looking at another hospital stay. Then we really will be back where we were.

Fun times. Fun. Times.

Monday I am going to go see what is wrong with my left shoulder. That ought to be interesting

I hate Father's Day.

And here's why.

For many years I was single mom. So Father's Day was always traumatic for The Boy, because there were always father/son happenings. This was even harder for The Boy because his birthday is always right around Father's Day. So of course he missed those. And as a side note, there are father/son, father/daughter and mother/daughter occasions, why are there never any mother/son things? So Father's Day was a bitch for that.

Second, I really pretty much hate my dad. OK, hate may be a strong word for it, but I am estranged from him, and I like it that way. But, I hate trying to deal with Father's Day. I acknowledge Father's Day, his birthday and Christmas for him. And really that's not even for me. If I could I would completely ignore him. I do it for The Boy. My dad is very manipulative and if I didn't acknowledge his things then he wouldn't send me cards for whatever. Now, I'm fine with that, but when he started doing it to my kid I get pissed, because he did it when The Boy was old enough to remember it.

The year The Boy turned one he was really sick on Father's Day. It was the day after his birthday, poor kid, and we spent the day at the doctor's office trying to get him taken care of. He had double ear infections and tonsilitis, was puking and running a high fever. Yeah, I was a little too busy to call dad and wish him a happy Father's Day. I barely remembered to do it with my husband. I went down to visit my mom for a week right after that and dad came down to see me and The Boy and he gave me shit for it. Yeah, that's the type of jerk my dad is.

Anyway, I hated trying to send him a card because most of the Father's Day cards are all "You're the best dad in the world" type of stuff. You really can't find cards that say "You're an abusive son of a bitch and I want to make sure you don't hurt my kid so have a freaking Father's Day card". Much harder to find a card like that. Hmmm, maybe I should start a card company for people with toxic family members.

So cards were out of the picture. Then how about calling him. I do my best to try not to call him, I would call at times I knew he wouldn't be home because I didn't want to talk to him. But lately I have found the perfect way to talk to him. I text him. But I don't want to give him our cell phone number so I do it through SMS messages on Yahoo. That way I can sign out of chat when I don't want to talk to him. He can only chat with me when I am on chat. Perfect.

Now there is one reason that I kind of like Father's day, other than my husband who I mostly like most of the time. My step-father. He married my mom several years ago. When he married her he told me I was his daughter, even though I was a full grown adult at the time. He has always treated me like I was his daughter. He has done more than my bio-dad ever did. I can't wish him a specific Happy Father's Day on FB because it will hurt my bro and sis if they find out, and they will take it badly and they will tell dad. Which shouldn't bother me, but he's likely to mke it harder for mom and me to talk to my brothers. It's stupid and I hate it. But there it is.

So, that's the reason I hate Father's Day. There are great dads out there. But there are a lot of really crappy ones too. Mothers too. I have issues with Mother's Day, but those will have to wait until next Mother's Day.

Boy, there is a lot of updating to do.

Oh, I haven't written in so very, very long. Mostly because I haven't been in the mood, or I've been exhausted. I've spent the past several weeks just so mind-numbingly exhausted it's all I can do to get through the things that I have to do. 

Life has been hectic. DH has decided to forgo further ECT treatments. They were working, but he took a few months off for a surgery. Now that he's fully healed from that he's decided that going back for the treatments is just "too much work", even though I'm the one who manages all the logistics. Whatever. It kind of irks me because of all the work that we put into getting him these treatments and the fact that we are back to meds that don't work. It's going to cause problems in the future, but I don't know how yet, and I don't know what's going to happen when it does.

That brings us to The Boy. He's going to be 16 this month. I'm not ready to have a 16 year old child. If he ever gets a girlfriend he's now old enough to date. The last month of school is always a problem. It's been a big one this year. He's really not wanted to go to school at all. At this point he's going to fail about 1/2 of his classes. I don't know if he will have enough credits to become a sophomore at the end of the week. This is finals week. He blew 2 off yesterday. It was a nightmare morning trying to get him to school. Instead of going to school he spent 2 hours just wandering around. He didn't go to school. The bitch of it is that he might be fail one of the classes he was passing because he blew off the final yesterday.

It's very frustrating. His anger is nasty. We are kind of looking into maybe putting him into a residential treatment center. We looked at boot camp kind of things, but they don't accept kids with major mental illnesses. The Boy has Bipolar. Major mental illness. it's not a choice I want to make. DH is kind of ineffective, so it's up to me and I am kind of sick of being the adult in the matter.

We are minus one cat. Our big guy died a few weeks back. He had a seizure and died. It was quick and he wasn't in pain. It was under 5 minutes from the time he seized to the time he died. That's the way I want to go. Once second I'm here, the next I'm gone.

That's my life. That's the way it's been lately. I spend more of my time exhausted. Trying to take care of everyone is exhausting. DH is going on a 2 week vacation at the end of the summer. I won't be, but only worrying about The Boy will make my life that much easier.

I have to get back to my real life for a while. I need to help The Boy finish some homework from this school year. It needs to be done by tomorrow afternoon, so we have to hurry and finish it.

Ain't Mental Illness Fun?

So, I'm sure I've mentioned before, once or twice, that I'm nuts. Bipolar II to be precise, along with Borderline Personality Disorder and just for the heck of it, a little PTSD, ADHD and anxiety disorder.

So, yeah, I've talked about my mental illnesses before. So why am I mentioning them again? Well, they are a big part of me and who I am. I'm not defined by my M.I., but it is part of who I am. I spend each day fighting it to a standstill. We have come to a compromise, my M.I. and I. Mostly I can keep it under control, with paying attention and good drugs.

But, sometimes I'm not the one who wins. Sometimes my crazy beats me. The past couple of weeks have been like that. Too much stress, not enough sleep, not enough time to myself, too much caffeine and not eating right all conspired against me. Now, I have no one but myself to blame. I know better.

When that starts to happen I start getting really anxious. I can't breathe anxious, I feel like I have no skin anxious.

That's what it's been like for the past couple of weeks for me. And then I get a little manic.

DH has told me he likes me a little manic, which makes me feel guilty for trying to remain stable. I need to feel stable. I don't like how I feel when I am manic, even a little bit, because I feel out of control and I hate that. But he likes it when I am. Very frustrating.

I need to figure out what to do.

What a weekend.

I've been planning all weekend up to blog about the Royal Wedding. Yes, I am one of those people who got up and watched it. I DVRed it so I didn't get up any earlier than I normally do. I also DVRed it because I knew that The Boy wouldn't want to watch it. So watch it I did. I saw The Dress and The Kiss, or rather, Kisses.

I watched Diana and Charles get married, I had to watch their boy. I'll watch Harry too and then their kids. Yes, I am fascinated by the lives of the royals. I love Queen Elizabeth I, and I respect QEII.

But, that's no longer the big story. The big story broke late last night. Osama bin Laden is dead.

Eight years, to the day, since Bush43 declared "Mission Accomplished", the Mission is truly Accomplished. OBL should always have been the priority. Afghanistan should have always been the priority. Instead Bush43 chose to go after Iraq and Saddam Hussein, who had nothing to do with 9/11 and everything to do with the fact that Bush43 wanted to prove that he was at least as good as his daddy. Less than a year after 9/11 Osama bin Laden was deprioritized. Now don't get me wrong, I think that the world is a bit safer with Iraq democratized and Hussein gone. It's just that they had nothing to do with 9/11, and it was a pointless war in which many people on all sides died.

But last night, acting on a tip received in August 2010 and involving 8 months of research and tracking down and verification, Osama bin Laden is dead. He was killed by US Special Forces in a firefight.

I'm glad that he's dead. I'm not rejoicing in the fact that he is dead. I think the Earth is a better place without him here. I hope that his death brings some peace to the families of all his victims, all over the world.

Maybe tonight or tomorrow morning I will blog about the Royal Wedding.

Procrastination

I am the queen of procrastination. The absolute queen. In fact, I've been procrastinating about writing this post all day, and I started it while I was procrastinating about doing work this morning. It's been over an hour from typing that sentence to this. See what I mean about procrastination?

Part of it is I'm just not focused. I have ADHD. Not as bad as my son, but enough. Today is one of the days that I am really unfocused, which is really bad when I have to work on a deadline. And I do. Sometimes I find it amazing how fast I can type 350 words. Right now my record for a 350 word project stands at 11 minutes including proofreading and plagiarism check. Of course I can't do that for all my projects, but ones that have subjects that I have written about a zillion times, not a problem.

But the past couple of days it's really started to be a problem. I know why it is. I'm tired. I'm more than tired. I'm exhausted. I'm exhausted from start to finish from the time I wake up to the time I go to bed.

Not only am I physically tired, I'm emotionally tired. I'm tired of being the one who has to do everything all the time every day. I spend hours writing, and let me tell you it's not easy. Then I get asked can I walk to the library, when am I going to walk to the laundry mat and do laundry, when am I going to get groceries, what's for dinner, and oh, by the way honey can you get me this $75 dollar thing that I want? And then, there are other things that just don't happen because it's just one more job, and when I am exhausted down to the bone and I can't even work up the interest to be interested. And frankly, guilt trips don't help the matter.

So all this is goes towards explaining why I'm the queen of procrastination. That procrastination is part of why I haven't blogged in a while.

Now I'm going to finish my oatmeal and fruit and go to bed. I'm actually going to sleep in tomorrow to. Instead of waking up at 5:30 I'm going to get up at 6:30. I'm so excited about that.

Not Nearly Enough Sleep

I haven't been getting enough sleep. I know a lot of it is my own fault and I have no one to blame but myself, but there it is.

Part of the way I can tell that I'm not getting enough sleep, other than the general feeling of exhaustion, is that I am weepy at *everything*. And I do mean everything. I was watching Fantasia 2000 and every single video made me want to cry. Even the funny flamingos.

 

How in the heck this can make me cry I don't know, but it did.

It's probably that I am remembering taking my son to see it. We lived in Bloomington IN then, I was going to IU, and we were members of the zoo. I had a membership for years and we went to the zoo all the time. This is important because as part of that membership we were able to get discounts at the White River IMAX theater. That's where we saw Fantasia 2000. It was The Boy, my mom and me. It was a lot of fun. It was huge. The Boy loved it.

DH got me the Fantasia set for Christmas. I asked for it specifically. I got up early this morning, too early really, and watched it. The Boy woke up and watched the end with me. He was 5 when it came out, but even at 15 he remembers seeing it.

I have a longer post coming tonight or tomorrow talking about this past week. Aren't you excited?

One Small Change and a Little Update

You'll notice that the title of the blog has changed. We've changed from "From My Brain" to "Out of My Mind". The URL will be the same, but I like this title better. It's exactly the kind of wordplay that I like, and it amuses me greatly. The thoughts come out of my mind, but I am, on occasion, out of my mind.

Sorry I haven't updated in a while. On top of being a little out of my mind (see told you I liked it), I've got chronic pain issues. I have degenerative disc disease. I've got a full blown herniated disc at L5/S1 (lumbar vertebra 5 and sacral vertebra 1 for those who aren't familiar with spinal anatomy). It hurts most of the time, and it hurts a lot sometimes. My coccyx is also deviated back by quite a bit due to breaking it twice, plus I have arthritis in my back, as well as muscle/nerve involvement. I have arthritis in both my knees, in the right one worse than the left. I can't straighten my right knee out all the way. Plus I have fibromyalgia. Yeah, I am in general, falling apart. My old orthopedic surgeon used to tell me I was too young to be this damaged. Yeah, well obviously I'm not because here I am.

My knees have bothered me for about 25 years. For those of you playing along, yes, I'm 38. Since I was a teenager they have never not bothered me. Plus I have a lot of trauma to my knees thanks to my brother and father, and trying to learn how to ice skate. I made it through half of one class, fell and tore my anterior cruciate ligament in my right knee.

Anyway, there is all this back story to explain that I have been dealing with a lot of pain recently as well as some nasty headaches. Chronic pain is exhausting and it leaves me not really willing or wanting to do much. I also get grumpy and short-tempered. The fact that there is so much more going on with DH and The Boy, whose school problems are a post for another day, and I'm screaming from stress and anxiety and pain. Sunday I ended staying in my room for about 8 hours and didn't talk to anyone or do anything. Very refreshing.

Just to warn you, you should prepare yourself for more snow pictures. April 1 we are going to get hit with a winter storm, 6-12 inches in my area. The calendar may say spring, but I live in the Great White North. I actually saw snow the first May that I live here. And I think there has been at least one severe storm in April every winter but one. One year in March we had storms every Wednesday.

On the moving to Wordpress thing, I'm not too sure that it's going to happen soon. I have the account, but I'm feeling very frustrated with it, so I haven't spent the time that I should to figure it out. On the other hand, I have just opened a Tumblr account.... I'm quite the social media maven.

As always, prayers and thoughts go out to all the people in Japan. I hope that my reader(s) are safe and warm and with everything they need. I'm now going to add in the people of Libya.

Is it really spring?

Well sort of. It's the way spring is in Maine. My favorite weather man likes to say that March is still a winter  month in Maine. Thursday and Friday the weather was great. Warm and sunny. High 50s. Yesterday and today, still sunny, but only 30s and 40s. Tomorrow? Snow and wintery mix. Yeah. Great. Spring Equinox is today.

Of course we always get a couple of storms in March and April. I think they are worse than the ones in January. There is more moisture in the air, and the snow is very heavy. 12 inches of very heavy snow is not fun to deal with.

Tomorrow our storm is only supposed to give my area a couple of inches of snow. I'll still get up to see if school is canceled. I doubt it will be, but sometimes they surprise me.

I hope everyone got a chance to see the supermoon last night. It was beautiful. The closest perigee moon since 1993. This is what it looked like in Maine last night. This isn't my video, it's from the local NBC station. Blah. I can't get the video to link. Check it out here. Super full moon

To my Japanese reader(s). Japan still rests in my thoughts and prayers. People across the world pray and hope for your country. I hope that you are somewhere safe and warm and that you have everything you need.


On the moving front. Wordpress frustrates me. I am still trying to figure it out. I'm trying to find a way to import everything directly from here to there.

Spring

Spring is springing in my little part of the Great White North. Birds are singing, the sun is shining longer, the sugar maple sap is running and there are ice breakers on the rivers. Yup, you heard me, ice breakers on the rivers. We get cold. Cold enough that our rivers freeze. Not just a little skin of ice. Huge chunks of ice that can run 2 feet thick. This time of year when it gets nice, it's currently 50F here at 6 pm, the rivers start melting. Huge chunks of ice break off and float downriver. That isn't the problem. If the ice pieces flow all nice down the river there is no problem. But, how often do things go perfectly like that?

No, things usually don't go right. The chunks float down and pile up. They catch on each other, they catch on the bridges, they catch on the islands. Then we have ice jams. Ice jams are bad. Ice jams cause floods. All the water builds up behind them and when they let go all hell breaks loose. Last year there was an ice jam that lasted several weeks. It would move downriver some, and then get stuck again. That is a really long time for any ice jam to last. Usually they only last a matter of hours to maybe a couple of days. At least that's what the ones here do.

So every year the Coast Guard sends ice breakers up the rivers. If they start breaking up the ice before it starts flowing towards the sea, then hopefully the jams won't happen. They send 3 up my local river. One of the big ones, and then 2 smaller ones once that big one can't go any further. Every year I mean to go down to the river when the breakers are there and take The Boy to see them. We know when they are coming, it's on the news so that the ice fishing shacks get cleared off. So far, in 8 winters we haven't made it. But, that's a sure sign of spring in the Great White North.

Please keep praying for those in Japan. The news we are hearing 1/2 way around the world is terrifying. I can't even think of how scary it is for the Japanese. To my Japanese reader(s), please stay safe.

On a side note. I have started a new blog on WordPress. I am going to be migrating this one there soon, at least as soon as I can figure it out. Look for the notice in the next week or two.

In the meantime, enjoy spring.

Switching

I'm pretty sure that I'm going to be switching from this blog at Blogger over to Wordpress. After looking, I think I like it better. I'll probably self-host. So we may have some bumps in the road while I get switched around. Just hang in there with me and we will get through it all. Any suggestions are gladly welcomed.

Japan

Because I relentlessly stalk my stats I know that I have hits from Japan. To the people in Japan, you are in my thoughts and prayers. To my reader(s) from Japan, I hope that you are somewhere safe and that you, your friends and family came through in safety.

For all the rest of us who want to know what we can do to help here is a list of several places we can donate.

• Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints Humanitarian Services Yes, this is my church, so I'm putting it there first. But it's a good link because we already have resources in the area and can quickly mobilize to help. We don't just help Mormons, we help all people around the world.
• International Red Cross This site is to donate to all their services in general. This is the American Red Cross donation site.
• Text for help. If you use any of the cell carriers you can text REDCROSS to 9099 for a $10 donation.
• This article has several sites to visit to help.

This site has been set up to help people in Japan to find their loved ones and get back with them. If you have friends who are American citizens traveling in or around Japan and you haven't yet heard from them call the US State Department at 1-888-407-4747.  For American military personnel go here. I have since heard that all US military personnel are safe and are deploying to help in any way they can.

As I find more places to donate or give aid through I will post them.

Charlie Sheen

That poor man. His life is crashing in around him. It was funny, for a while. Now it's sad and tragic, and for a part of the population a very scary warning. Now, no one in his camp has outright said anything so we will never know for sure, but if the man isn't bipolar, I'll eat a tiger's blood drenched hat. As we are now stipulating, at least those of us here are, that he is bipolar, I will make a further case that he is in a massive manic or even psychotic episode.

I heard Dr. Drew Pinksy, celebrity addictions doctor, describe Sheen's state as "hypomania". Now, hypo means below, so hypomania means below mania, or a slight manic state. Frankly, Dr. Drew can kiss my lily white derriere. He's wrong. If that is hypomania I would truly hate to see a full blown manic state.  Bipolar mania can become psychotic, and from his latest webcasts he sure looks well on his way.

It doesn't appear that anyone around him is trying to get him help. And hey, mania can be fun. You turn into the life of the party, you're sex, drugs and rock and roll all rolled up into one, you spend cash and make friends. You're also self-destructive, delusional and paranoid. The people on his webcasts are playing along with him, which can hurt him more. Drugs aren't helping him. Bipolar and addictions are hugely comorbid, more, I think, than any other mental illness, but don't quote me on it.

The reason that this is a scary warning for a segment of the population is because we are bipolar. We know that what is happening to Charlie could happen to one of us just as easily. When we are stable we know that we need the meds, but then we start feeling good and think we don't need it today, and then tomorrow,and so on and so forth. When we hit a manic state we feel goooooooood. Who needs those pesky meds? Then we crash. Luckily, knock on wood, I've never had a severe manic episodes. I've only ever dealt with hypomanic states. But those were bad enough to scare me. I take my meds every night, even if I don't want to. My DH reminds me to if he sees that I am moving towards that hypomanic state. Charlie's state prompted a conversation between DH and I. If I end up a major manic episode he is to immediately 5150, or involuntarily commit, me. I told him that if he didn't I would never forgive him for not helping me when I was in that state. I told him to ignore whatever I would say, but get me the help I need. I hope there is someone in Charlie Sheen's life who can and will do that for him. Whatever the reason is, he needs help.

If you think that you have, or someone you know and loves has bipolar disorder get help. It will never hurt to see a psychiatrist and find out that your worries are wrong. Better living through chemistry is not a joke, it helps.

Writer's Block? Or Maybe Not

I love the written word. I read like it's going out of style. I have 3 bookshelves which are all double stacked with books and have more stacked on top, and even at that all my books don't fit. There are still stacks on the floor. I need at least 3 more, but I don't know where I would put them. I even like reading stuff that I've written.

I've fallen in love with writing. I've wanted to do it for years, and now I do. I even get paid for some of my writing, which is pretty cool. I even have started describing myself as a part-time free lance writer. Am I ever going to completely support myself and my family by writing? No, because of my mental illness. I do the amount I can do, and sometimes that's a push. But, I can supplement our income and actually have the money to get some extras. I'll take that.


Sometimes I have a hard time writing. I look at the article that I'm writing and can't figure out how the hell I'm going to make it work, but eventually it works. Last night though, I had a panic attack looking at the clean white page on my screen. I had to shut down all my writing stuff or risk screaming into the very cold night. So, I did. But, it put me behind schedule wise and earning goal wise. So today I have to push hard.


Was it writer's block? Who knows. It could just have been that I have been under so much stress lately that I had to just stop somewhere. Either way, it's better today and I'm writing again.

The week in review 2/28-3/5

It has been a long week. The kids were supposed to go back to school on Monday. They didn't.
                                                                       This is why.

Snow is a 4 letter word.

It snowed. I don't don't how much snow we got, but I don't think it was as much as they said. But we did get some ice on top of it. The snow pile on the right? That's from all the snow we've gotten. My landlord has shoved most of it into the backyard, but there is that pile. We got more snow during the week, and it is currently 2x that size in width and about half again as tall.

Tuesday came and went, and the boy didn't go to school. Joy. Now, he ended up home 11 days in a row. That's a long time. It's not that I don't love having my son home, because I really do. But, the past 2 months have been long, long, long. I just haven't gotten a break. I was looking forward to Josh going back to school so I could have a break for just a little while, just to breathe.

I freelance write. The website that I use primarily hadn't had a lot of work, but there is a regular customer who comes in. He came in Wednesday. I was going to sit down and spend as many hours writing for him as I could. Except, first thing in the morning we got a phone call. I'm not a great house cleaner. On any given day there is stuff on the floor, my house is cluttered and my dishes probably need washed. Early Wednesday morning, I say early meaning about 8, I had just gotten the boy off to school, the call comes in,a place to evaluate DH for physical therapy is coming in 45-60 minutes. WTF? Seriously? Now DH had made an appointment the day before for them to come, but he later called and canceled it.

So, he tells me they are going to be here, then just turns on the TV and gets comfy in bed. I went ballistic. Telling me someone is going to be here in less than an hour when the house is a mess? There isn't anything that could have made me madder at that point. Luckily he realized that and came out to help me.

Thursday and Friday were their own fun days. The boy was supposed to serve a detention on Thursday, he didn't, so he got suspended. Right now he's getting suspended at least once a week because of that. It's so not a good thing. But, since I didn't know, because I usually get a warning, I sent him to school Friday. He got to school, they turned around and sent him home. The VP sent me a letter telling me she tried to call us and tell us he was suspended, but we were home. I never got a phone call let alone a message. She left it on the very rarely turned on cell phone. This isn't working, so we have a meeting coming up with the school at the end of the month.

Friday I also had to take one of our cats to the vet. He had to get shots, and in 2 weeks he's going to get the unkindest cut of all.

 

 

 

When you give a cat some catnip.

Our cats don't leave the house. they are strictly indoor cats. I had to buy a new cat carrier to take kitteh to the vet. To get them to like it, I got some catnip spray and sprayed the crate all over, and a towel that I stuck in the carrier. Too bad I didn't get pix or movies of the cats when they were being goofy, but they stopped as soon as I pulled out the camera. Only 2 of the felines we are owned by indulged. Our middle kitteh stayed aloof. It was funny to see our big cat in the crate.

I have my towel, do you have yours?

He's a full grown Maine Coon Cat. He's big. But, he really wanted that towel. REALLY wanted it. He actually pulled it out of the crate at one point, with the little kitteh on it.

It's a long recap, but I haven't written enough lately.

Save my sanity, send chocolate

So, my husband's home, my son is home, and I am about to go nuts. I, in general, need a lot of space and quiet time. I have spent a lot of time taking care of other people lately. Which, being the wife and mom, is kind of my job, but still.

When my husband was in the hospital in late January and early February, I was at the hospital every day, in the evening, for a couple of hours. Then he was home, and we did a Fri, Mon, Wed, Fri, Mon, Wed of ECT. Now, that was several days of rushing around making sure that the boy was up for school on time, that DH was up on time, and that I was ready. After that, it was several hours of sitting at the hospital, waiting. And waiting. And waiting.

Monday I was there for 4 hours. Wednesday was even longer, partly because we were waiting for a PICC line. DH has crappy veins, and the anesthesiologist wanted to make sure he had a good vein for the surgery.

Then came Thursday, Surgery Day. I was there for over 10 hours. Now, I HATE hospitals. I hate them with a passion. My youngest brother spent a lot of time in the hospital, and I spent a lot of time visiting. They are boring, they are noisy and they smell funny.

The only nice thing about the hospital is that they have WIFI so I can access the web. And, the same day surgery/OR nurses all knew us, so they made sure I was up-to-date.

Of course, I spent every day from Thursday until Monday when DH came home at the hospital. Then I had to come home and be with the boy. The boy was upset, not that he would say anything about it. He just had to be right on top of me. All the time.

Now, my routine, when school is in session, is that I get up around 6:30 so I have some time before I have to start waking up Mr. Grumpyteen. Then, once he's off for school I have some time to myself, to play video games, watch my trashy TV shows or just generally do whatever I want. Then, around 9 or so, maybe 10, I start doing things that need to be done, cleaning or writing or whatever.

Except, this is a vacation week. So, even if I am awake before the boy is, he tends to wake up shortly after I do. So, no morning news, no trashy TV shows, no video games. No, instead I'm stuck watching whatever it is the boy wants. House rule, if you are on the computer you don't get to choose what's on TV. Except, it's my rule and I get to break it. So, even when DH wakes up and comes out here I still don't get to choose anything.

Now, DH is currently non-weight bearing on his foot. He's on a walker. He can't do a whole lot of stuff for himself. Which means everydamntime I get up, he wants me to get him something. I know it's uncharitable of me, but I just want him to stop. He's only been home for a few days. This isn't a good sign. Mostly my thought is that if you want something you can get up and get it yourself. Everyone here is capable of doing that.

I try not to make him feel like he's a burden, I hope he doesn't feel like that, but sometimes that's how I feel. Especially when I have no space, and people are talking to me all day long, and I don't even have any space when I go to bed because DH is sleeping in the middle of the bed so I am hanging my ass off the bed all night long.

So, I'm not sleeping well. My wrist, back and knees hurt. There is always someone breathing my air in my space, and I'm going nuts. I'm so glad that school is back in session on Monday. Hopefully what's left of my sanity can survive that long. Send chocolate.

Just random morning rambles

In February the New England area the schools do one interesting thing. They take the 3rd week of February off school. This is February break. Ask me how much I enjoy this. On one hand, I get to sleep in, on the other, my 15 year old son is home and wants me to entertain him. This is one of the few times I wish he had a sibling. I could lock them in a room together and let them go at it. Heh. He doesn't have that many friends in the area, and the one that he has we don't like. Let's just say that there are some choices being made there that we don't like and wouldn't make.

Anyway, he's home, it's break, and because of all the stuff going on with his dad, he's velcro-boy (TM). He is sitting almost on top of me on our tiny couch as we watch House (I have mad, mad love for Hugh Laurie). DH is still asleep in the bedroom, having come home last night, which is a story for another post, otherwise he would be in the bedroom watching TV so I could play my Animal Crossing.

Sometimes, though, break comes in handy. Like 8 years ago. We moved up here  from the Midwest in the middle of the winter of 2002-03. On a side note, there was snow on the ground, and we didn't see grass until April. Comes from living in the Great White North. That following February we got a call that my baby brother was dying. Now, by we, I mean my mom, my son and me. We got the news on Tuesday, mom flew out Wednesday, the boy and I flew out on Thursday. He was already dead by the time I flew out. All my sibs, my parents and I got together on a call, they were all there, I was here, and we discussed what to do. Baby brother was in pain and there was nothing they could do for him. There was no cure, no nothing, and they couldn't give him enough painkiller. So, we decided to pull the plug on his life support. He was awake enough to agree. I was asked if I wanted them to wait. I decided no, since he was in pain. Therefore, I was the only one who didn't get to say goodbye.

The reason that February break came in handy that year is that this happened during break. He didn't miss a lot of school. We were down there for most of a week, between viewings (2), the funeral and the burial. When we got back to the Great White North, we got asked when we were going to go back to bury him. The reason we were asked this is because in this state, it is state law that all the cemeteries are closed 10/31-5/1. Remember the snow I mentioned? Right now we have around 2 feet on the ground. That year we had more. Do you know what happens when you have that much snow on the ground? Or what it takes to have that much snow on the ground? The ground has to be frozen. Try burying someone when the ground is frozen down 5 feet. Or when the cemetery is up in the mountains and there is one curvy steep road and 2 feet of snow on the ground. So, the northern New England states don't bury people in the winter. They store them in a vault over the winter.

People were surprised when we told them he was already buried. I was surprised when I found out people don't bury their dead in the winter here. We all get used to the way things are always done where we are and it's always shocking when things are different, even the little things. Sometimes the little things are the most surprising. We expect the big things to be different. We don't expect the little ones.


As I look back over this post, it really is rambling, isn't it? But, I think I will let it stand. It's early, OK, it's really not all that early since it is almost 9 am where I am, and I've been up for a couple of hours, which really sucks since I can sleep in this week, but my brain feels like it's early, which is why the ramble. I've got things to do, like some writing that pays, and some writing that I hope will pay at some point. Check out the link on the side for an example of the latter, or the post about the week in recap a couple of days ago, if you want to see what my professional type writing looks like. I promise it doesn't ramble.

I love this blog!

Not my blog, although I love it too. This is Momepetition. Every mom in the world has run into "that mom". You know, the one whose kids are always smarter, faster, or more perfect than yours? She is Wonder Woman, Supergirl and Martha Stewart all rolled up into one? If you haven't run into "that mom", chances are you are her.

Anyway, she entered a video in a contest. Watch it, like it, and help her win. If you go to Youtube to like it make sure to vote like for her, someone is sabotaging her. Spread the word.

This week in recap

This has been a long and stressful week. This last 2 months have been long, and while this has been hell week, it's actually the week that is the turning point.

Six weeks ago my husband's depression was so crippling that he couldn't leave the house, or go to family parties. He missed Christmas with my mom and step-dad. This week was the end of 3x/week ECT. Starting Wednesday of next week he will be getting them once a week for the next couple of months. He has responded to them wonderfully. I honestly do not know what was going to happen if these didn't work. He was taking 3 different anti-depressants, plus another med that has mood stabilizing effect. And yet, he had a month that he couldn't leave the house. In the end, the depression would have torn our marriage apart. I know this from experience.

Seven years ago my husband was in a severe car accident. He had a seizure behind the wheel. He woke up in the hospital over a week later. Both of his feet and knees were all kinds of messed up. Since 1/08 he has had 3 surgeries, including one on Thursday, trying to deal with the aftermath. The first 2 were a fusion. The first fusion was done wrong, and it never healed right. October of last year his ankle broke, because of this. His heel was put back in wrong, so it finally just cracked the bone. This surgery the doctor broke the heel again and put it together right, as well as doing other stuff. He was actively in surgery for about 6 hours. All in all I spent 10 hours at the hospital on Thursday. I've been there everyday since Monday except for Tuesday.

The chairs are uncomfortable. I've got a bad back, my tail bone is all messed up and I have degenerative disc disorder. Yeah. So, I've been sitting in horrible chairs every day, for hours on end. Today I hurt. I have a lovely painkiller that I have taken, and has just kicked in. Right now I feel pretty good. I have a heating pad.

I didn't spend as much time at the hospital today as I wanted to, because of my back. We thought my husband would be able to come home yesterday, but they can't control his pain and he is very wobbly on his foot. He has to be non-weight bearing on the operated on foot, so he needs to be steady. He's still there. And I will go up and spend time with him after church tomorrow.

But, once we get through this it will be better. If nothing else, he will be in less constant pain. He will probably be more mobile. This is great.

For good news, 2 weeks ago I submitted an article that I wrote to Associated Content. I have written for another site for almost a year, but none of that is under my name. Now, this is in my name. On Monday it got approved and published. I also put it up on another site, called Hubpages. Go check them both out. Read them both, rate them put comments on them. I put a lot of work on it. I'm in the middle of writing a new one. I like this writing thing.
http://hubpages.com/hub/ECT-an-Alternative-Treatment-for-Depression
 http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/7726538/electroconvulsion_therapy_is_an_alternative.html?cat=5

So, that's been my week. Now my meds have kicked in, and I am going to go to sleep. Tomorrow comes around way too early.

Products of our childhood.

I got to thinking. I was washing dishes, a task which lets me stop and think. It's a mindless task and I can reach a Zen state. I accidentally turned the water on too hot. I realized it when I put my hand under it and yanked it out. It reminded me of when I was a kid. My dad would complain that I wasn't washing the dishes in hot enough water. It felt pretty hot to me. But, I had delicate kid hands. My dad had heavily calloused worker hands. He was an electrician and spent a lot of time working outside. He didn't feel the hot. I did. And it hurt. I complained to my mom about it, and she talked to my dad about it. But still, every time I washed dishes, and I did a lot, because dish washing was "girl" work, dad turned the hot all the way on and the cold almost all the way off.

Now, you probably have a good idea of what my dad was like. He wasn't a nice man, and still isn't. He apparently appears nice, but hey, they give good drugs now. Anti-depressants rock. He puts on a good public face. But, in private.... Yeah, he was abusive. Luckily, for me, it wasn't as bad as it could have been, but I'm still an abuse survivor. There are a lot of people who had it worse, much worse. But there are also a lot of  people who had it better.

I am a 30something woman. I have mental illnesses. Some of them are direct results of what I grew up with. I am the product of what I grew up with. I have to fight hard to deal with my temper. I have serious control and trust issues. I am much more likely to react angrily or defensively than I am to be calm about it. I know these things about myself. I work hard to not be that way. It's becoming habit for me to take a breath and wait to see what is happening and to be reasonable about it. As I get older, it gets easier. I've learned politeness and firmness works a whole lot better than raging at someone. I am much more likely to get what I want if I don't go to that place first. After all, I always can go there. I can't come back from it.

Here's the thing. I may be a product of my childhood. But I am not a prisoner of it. Yes, I have PTSD because of it, but I don't let it control me. I have a personality disorder, but it is not who I am. I am me. I am not the illnesses. I finished high school, I graduated college. I have a 15 year old son. I have lived on my own since I was 19.

I have some brothers. They are prisoners of their childhood. The oldest of them is 2 years younger than me. He didn't move out of our father's home until he was 33 or so, and then it was a forceful move, which is a story for another time. Of my two youngest brothers, one is in college and lives with dad, the other lives sort of with dad, and the last time I talked to him wasn't working. They stay with our father and take care of him. He's in poor health. He still manipulates them and controls them. They don't talk to me or our mother because we are the "enemy." They can't break free. And what's worse, they don't want to.

I wish they would break free. I wish they could break free. I wish there was something that I could do, but there isn't. They don't want my help. They don't even want to talk to me because they listen to my dad, who tells them that I am manipulated by my mother. My brothers still live in Hell. Every day I am glad that I was able to get free of that, and that I don't have to live there.

I may be the product of my childhood, but I am not the prisoner of it. I was able to break free and become more. Every day I try to be more. That's the only thing I can do.

Civility and Customer Service

The important part of this story is that my husband is home.

He came home today. His doctor wanted to send him home Monday, but snomageddon happened and we weren't sure that we would be able to get him to the hospital yesterday(more on that later). So, they kept him until today.

We don't have a car, and while I had been borrowing my parents' car, they needed it back so I gave it back Monday. This figures prominently in this story. The case manager at the hospital said they would give him a taxi voucher and send him home in a cab. Sounded good me. He's perfectly coherent, and there was nothing to stop him from being able to do it himself.

Now, there are 3 cab services in our smallish town. There is one that we use on a regular basis. We have never had any problems with them. They have had long waits sometimes, but they always warn us. We use them so often I have their number memorized. In fact, we'll be using them later today, and we already have a time call for tomorrow morning with them. That's not the company they called.

The one they called is one that we have never dealt with, mostly because they are more expensive. The nurse called them, let's call them Elite, to not protect the guilty. The original call went in at 10:45. Elite told the nurse they would be there at 11:15. DH called me at 10:57 to tell me that he would be home soon, he was just waiting for the cab. So, he stayed on the floor until close to 11:15 then he went down to wait. Now, my DH is disabled. He has a hard time walking due to some damage done by a car accident. He can't stand for very long. So, he waited outside. The temp was in the high teens, which actually is warmer than it has been.

11:15 came, and went. 11:30 came, and went. Around 11:45 he called Elite and they told him 5-10 minutes. That came, and went. He called them again, and was told 5-10 minutes. Again, that came and went. Finally, at 12:20, by the cab's clock and by the time from the dispatcher, the cab showed up.

Now, if you ask me, 10:45-12:20 is over 90 minutes. 11:15-12:20 is over an hour. Anyway you want to count it he waited for over an hour. Waiting outside, since the door he was waiting at didn't have anywhere to be inside and still see the cab.

When he got home and told me, I was pissed, especially since he had been given a time as to when they would be there. So, I called the cab company. The dispatcher yelled at me, lied to me, and hung up on me. Now, before I called her I checked my caller id. I knew exactly when DH called me. She told me that he couldn't have called be before 11 because they didn't get the call until after 11, and she told the nurse when they would be there, so there was no way he could have been waiting for 90 minutes. After saying that she hung up on me. So, she lied to me, she yelled at me, she said I was lying, and she hung up on me. I called her back, told her that she lost customers, she yelled at me that they were just a rinky dink cab company and to leave her the fuck alone. Then she, you guessed it, hung up on me.

I don't take well to being hung up on, let alone yelled at and cussed at, and lied to. So, to the Internet I turned. I posted a warning to everyone on my friends list on FB to avoid this company. Then I turned to Google. Now, there are review sites for companies all over the place. I wrote up a review listing what happened. Then I posted it on more than 5 review sites. I think the actual number was 7, but I lost track after 5. I've contacted the Better Business Bureau. Tomorrow we are going to the hospital, and I will be finding out who I have to talk to about letting them know about this company, and warn them about our treatment. I'm also debating writing a letter to the editor.

There is one thing that could have happened to avoid all this. If the dispatcher had said she was sorry, something came up, or given me a good reason, I wouldn't be writing this. Just 4 little words, I'm sorry that happened, that's all it would have taken. Instead, I'm complaining about them everywhere I can. I am going to actively encourage everyone I know who takes a cab to not use them.

I know the customer isn't always right. I've been on both sides of the counter. But, there was no need for her to yell at me, especially as I wasn't yelling at her. In fact, I was speaking in a nice conversational tone. That's the choice she made, and the consequence of her choice is that I am leaving negative reviews and talking to people I know about the poor service of the Elite Livery Taxi company.

On Loneliness and One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest.

As I write this it has been one week and one day since my husband went into a crisis support unit here in town. It was snowing the night that he got evaluated so he didn't get taken to the unit that night. They came and helped transport him the next day. This is a good thing. My husband has severe depression. Severe enough that he has several suicide attempts under his belt and several hospitalizations.

Four days after that he went into the hospital. Again, a good thing. I fought for him to get that. His psychiatrist, who I think is a smarmy bastard, hadn't even contacted the csu to find out how he was until I called and complained about it. I shouldn't have been surprised, since this is the same man who changed my husband's meds and then scheduled an appointment for 2.5 months. Seriously? Who does that?

For 18 months we have been trying to get my husband ECT. We saw this same doctor over the summer. He said that my husband wasn't a good candidate, which, in my non-medical opinion, was utter bullshit. Three separate doctors, including 2 other psychiatrists, said that he was a good candidate. The only problem with them was the fact they didn't prescribe it. Dr. McSmarmy is the only doctor in our town to do that. The next nearest are an hour away, in separate directions.

He ended up with this doctor as his psychiatrist because our previous doctor's office closed. This guy was the only person in town to take my husband's insurance.  Again, the next nearest one who had any openings was an hour away. We don't have a car, and that is just too far. We do have medical transportation, but still.

Anyhow, back to Tuesday. We went to the doctor's office, again it was snowing. We live in what I lovingly call the Great White North. I love it, but winters are long and snowy and cold. Tuesday was both. I went in loaded for elephant, and wanted to get him in the hospital for closer observation. I would have been happy for med adjustment, even though no meds work, or don't work for long. We have tried them all. Miracle of miracles, his doctor suggested the ECT.

He had his first treatment today. He will have around 10 treatments in the next 3 weeks. After than he will start going out towards a maintenance treatment. That's once every month, but we will build up to that point. This is a good thing. After 18 months, clearance from a cardiologist, which included a heart catheterization a year ago, another cold day. There were also the 2 different neurologists we saw. Hours of driving all over the state, hours of tests and procedures, only to get told no. It was frustrating. I could see my husband just collapse onto himself. And finally, finally, we have succeeded. I can't help but think about how different our lives would have been if he had this done 18 months ago. We are both hoping that this will be very successful and that our lives will be different. I have known this man for 17 years. For most of them he has been depressed, sometimes more than others.

I was at the hospital this morning after his treatment. He was coherent and no short term memory loss, which can occur. This isn't your daddy's shock treatment. There have been huge strides. He won't end up like McMurphy from One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, great movie, see it if you haven't.

That is a lot of exposition to get to the actual meat of this post, and if you have read this far I owe you cookies. That is actually loneliness. The first few days of him being gone I got some space. Our apartment is tiny. There is no space for the three of us to get away from each other. Since we have to walk to get anywhere and my husband and I both have physical limitations we don't go a lot of places in the winter. We have had entirely too much togetherness. I enjoyed the hours to myself while our 15 year old went to school. He has been a clingon while his dad was gone. But today, I realized that the house was too quiet. It's already been too quiet at nights without his CPAP machine. I didn't sleep well the first few nights, and now I've gotten somewhat used to it, but it is still too quiet at 3 am.

I realized last night that I miss having him next to me in the middle of the night. Don't get me wrong, having the entire bed to myself, well myself and the three cats who own us, is nice. But, reaching out in the middle of the night and touching him is reassuring. I miss that when he is gone.

Dr. McSmarmy is talking about sending DH home on Monday after his next treatment. DH and I talked about it after his treatment today. We would both like him to stay in the hospital for another week. Dr. McSmarmy tried to blow off DH's opinion. Oh hell to the no. That won't happen when I am around. Maybe I will start going to all his appointments with the doctor now that I have seen how DH is treated. Although he tries to condescend to me. Yeah, keep that up and I will shove Dr. McSmarmy's overly whitened teeth down his throat. Politely of course, since DH asked me to be polite.

It isn't that I don't want him to come home or that he doesn't want to come home. He's bored out of his mind. We are just worried about him and his well-being. And when he comes home, I will be happy, at least until we spend too much time with each other again.

Some thoughts on faith

The blog I published earlier has had me thinking about faith.

Faith is a funny word. It means so many different things. I went to Google and said define:faith. I got a lot of interesting definitions. One was a list of fictional nations from Gundam SEED. Another was a band in the early years of American Punk. The closest definition to what I grew up with was this one "a strong belief in a supernatural power or powers that control human destiny; "he lost his faith but not his morality"".  That's close, but not quite right. This is the one I grew up with "Faith is to hope for things which are not seen, but which are true."

So, those definitions are great and all. But, what do they really mean? The word gets used in so many different ways. I have faith in my team, my family, my friend. I'm a member of the LDS faith. I have faith in God. I have listened to Faith No More. If you are a cheating spouse you are faithless. If you are a Marine, you are Semper Fidelis, always faithful, Semper Fi.

Faith is all those things and more. And yet, we still haven't truly nailed down what faith is. Some words have a very concrete definition. If I say "cat", you know that I am speaking of a feline. A lion is always a lion, a tiger is always a tiger. But is faith always faith?

Part of what makes the definition of faith so slippery is that faith can't be pinned down. You can't quantify faith, you can't take it out and weigh it, measure it and give it percentages. You can make faith grow or shrink. Your actions can cause people to have more or less faith in you. You can do things to make your faith in God increase or decrease. But you can't say I have 3 pounds of faith today.

The reason I have been thinking of this is because good things have been happening today. A corner has been turned and I have faith (see there it is) that it will be good. I am hoping for it to be true. I was sustained by my faith in God today, which I can't see, but I know is true. I was also sustained by the faith my friends have in me. They knew that I can do it and so I can. It seems that while faith may have a lot of definitions and many contexts and uses, it isn't something that we can do without.

Is the definition of faith something that is highly subjective and personal, or is there one definition and then we all shade it by our experiences? When you hear the word faith, what do you think of?

How Do You Carry On?

Do you ever wonder what you will do when you reach the breaking point? What happens when you get to the point where one more thing, even the smallest thing, not even a straw but just a grain of sand puts you so far over the edge that you just sit and start crying? How do you get up and carry on when you feel like you are shattered into a million pieces or that you are stretched so thin that there just isn't anything at all left?

It is more realistic to keep going or just sit down and realize that there is nothing else left for you to do and give up your burdens? What happens when you realize that there is no one else who can pick them up for you, do you have to pick them back up and shoulder them and hope they get better? Do you feel like Atlas with no Hercules to trick into shouldering the world for you?

These aren't idle questions. These are the things that come to me at 3 am in the long dark teatime of my soul (apologies to Douglas Adams, read him if you haven't). The reason that these things come to my mind is because recently I've been going through a really hard time. Things in  my personal life have been in great turmoil for the past week. I was getting a handle on them, until yesterday. Yesterday was the one more thing. The straw that made the camel fall to her knees. There was too much for me to deal with.

Last night I questioned whether I could pick up and go on.  I wasn't sure that I could. I wasn't sure that I really even wanted to. I started looking around for my Hercules. And I didn't find him. I realized that there is no one who can pick up my burden and shoulder it. That means if it has to be carried I have to be the one to carry it.

I was raised thinking that God won't give me more than I can handle, and that if He wants me to do it, He will provide a way. Yesterday, when I reached the point that I was done, that I wanted to tell Heavenly Father enough already, I was reminded of the refiner's fire. We go through what we go through to make us a stronger person, to make us better. He gives us what we can handle, and maybe just a little more to make us stronger, to put us through that fire. The refiner's fire isn't there to make the metal brittle and breakable, it is there to burn away the dross, the impurities. It actually strengthens the metal. My trials actually strengthen me. Do I like them? No. Do I want them to stop? Yes, I really do. Do I see the benefit of them? Yes I do. I wouldn't be me without the struggles and trials and the one more thing. It has taken all of that to make me the person I am, a person who can fight through and find a way.

So, this morning, I pick up the world. I stand as Atlas, because I am the only one who can carry my burdens.  I am the one who needs this particular fire, and I am going to come out stronger on the other side. As Neitzsche said, what doesn't kill us makes us stronger. I am also reminded that though I have to carry my burden, my globe, because no one else can, I don't do it all alone.