Where I'm At

Just a little update on my life:

I turned in my first paper as a college student today! I have another one due tomorrow, which I'm currently revising.

I'm not pregnant. After sobbing pathetically Friday morning and Monday afternoon at work (can we say "humiliating"?) about things that happen to me every single day, we thought it might be a good time to check, but nope... no baby. I'm trying to take my temp every day, but can I just rant to you for a moment? The thermometer instructions say to check your temp every morning, first thing, WHEN YOU ARE HALF ASLEEP. If I am half-asleep, how am I supposed to remember to take my temp?!! *sigh* So far, this hasn't gone well. I've taken to putting my thermometer on top of my cell phone (which I use as an alarm clock) every night, so I see it when I reach to hit the snooze button.

I've failed as a vegetarian. I ate a single meatball, because I forgot I was a vegetarian. The meatball really wasn't that exciting either. How sad.

I've learned to make "Cheater's Spanakopita", using biscuit dough from a tube. You just mix together one (small) container of cottage cheese, two eggs, and some spinach (2 bunches is what it called for, but I didn't use that much). Set that aside for a moment as you take each biscuit and roll it out as then as you'd like. Lay 1/2 of the now-rolled-out-biscuits onto an ungreased cookie sheet. Spread the filling out evenly on the four biscuits on the cookie sheet, and top with the other 1/2 of the biscuits. Smoosh the edges together to make 4 spanikopita pockets. Bake 35 minutes at 400 degrees. Yum.

My husband is gone, working on his mom's car... I have no idea when or if he will be home tonight, and I really need him. Does no one think about the fact that I just had another negative prego test, and might need some support? (I know, I know, how can they know if I don't ask? But how can I ask if I don't have my phone? You see my dilemma.)

Which reminds me... my sister-in-laws surprise birthday party is now being planned for the day my father died 2 years ago. Maybe I should be stronger, or over it... but I just don't think so. I asked Aunt Martha about it, hoping maybe we could do it the week before, but was told just to come and be with friends and family, that they would understand... but who wants someone all weepy at their birthday party? But at the same time, I'd rather die than hurt that sis-in-law, so... I'm stuck. I want to be there, because I love her to death... but I don't want to be there, because I plan to spend that day honoring my dad's memory and will most likely be emotionally and physically exhausted. If it gets too bad and I just can't stop by the party, maybe I could get her a really nice card explaining how much I love her and why I wasn't able to be there. Her mom died not long after my dad, so she would understand.

I haven't shown you all any pics of my baby niece, have I? I'll have to start another post later tonight with all the baby pics in it. She is so cute!!!!!!!!!! I absolutely love her.

For right now, I'm starved... I'm going to go cook a baked potato and maybe make some cauliflower with cream sauce... (adding cheese to the sauce, of course. Mmmmm....)

Jana Life Update - The Family

So, after a fun break from blogging during a week in which I had an unexpected regression to my ADHD/emotionally unstable ways.... Many fun things happened. We'll start today with some updates from the family life sector:

• My brother-in-law has a job near my house now, and has been randomly living on our couch. The up side: I will get to see my neice and nephew more, thanks to an agreement I struck with their mama. (Transportation for the brother-in-law from work in exchange for baby time for me.) The down side: My brother-in-law has been IN. MY. HOUSE. I'm cleaning out the back bedroom so there will be a room for me to send him to when I get annoyed. LOL
• My father-in-law moved to town... for two whole days, approxmiately. Came to my house, made me unable to hate him (how can you hate anyone who is THAT pathetic? Douchebag!), told me how badly he wanted to move to Indiana and be close to his family again after being gone for NINETEEN YEARS... (Actually longer.... james is 24 and his dad walked out when he was 18 months old... 22 and a half years. Douchebag.)... and then decided to move to Texas. GOOD. FREAKING. RIDDANCE.
• My Christmas plans are proceeding decently. So far we have 4 people coming, possibly a fifth... and Kim is inviting some more friends of ours, since I'm sad that it will be so empty.
• My grandma is having renal failure... which makes me very very sad.
• Kim's grandma has been given 72 hours to live... that just makes me wanna cry. I remember the hours, waiting... sitting by the bedside, listening to every breath, wondering if it's the last... I don't envy Kim's mom at all right now.
• Jakey has been given meds for ADHD, and I am wishing I could steal some of them. The past few days my thoughts have been racing and I've been insanely hyper... talking crazy (no filter between my brain and my mouth... always a bad thing)... and without hardly any caffine! I actually cut the caffine BACK! (Yes, I plan to pay off my doctor ASAP and get some happy pills.) Jakey, however, is really benefiting from the medication, and I'm excited for him. I can't wait until he gets his first good behaviour award at school... I plan to take him out to eat, anywhere he wants to go, to celebrate.
• I am seeing my dad EVERYWHERE... all the men with white hair and beards remind me of him (except the ones dressed as Santa, cuz that's just creepy.) I miss him a lot during the holidays.
• My mother-in-law has learned how to forward e-mails. 22 deleted e-mails later... God help us all. *sigh*
• I've been feeling some holiday depression (probably due to missing my dad...) and would really like to remedy that with some good Christmas horror movies... any recommendations?

So that's what's going on in my family life. Stay tuned for the next update... The Craftz. Until then....

What's going on in YOUR family??

Finally...

I sold my wares at a craft bazaar at my aunt's church this weekend... didn't have much business, but sold a few earrings and ornaments. My mommy came by, and I ranted to her about the untimely demise of my Christmas ornaments, and my pathetic need for the mouse advent calendar. I went to her house later to pick up some things I'd left at my cousin Debby's house... and there was the calendar. I hugged it and cried for a deeply unreasonable period of time. I took it home, and the next day my hubby went out before work and stocked it up with candy and hung it up for me... prompting another good warm-fuzzy-cry. I ate today's candy, and cried a little more... and then ate chocolate from last week. *giggle*

The holiday depression has now broken, and I can face the holiday season... armed with a very huggable mousey happily living in his advent calendar. (And with it, memories of Christmases gone by, of love from my Mommy and a warm comfy home and my Dad still being alive.)

All is right in my world.

(P.S. There will be no gay marriage post tonight, I'm going to bed. )

Results

Remember how last week I committed to myself, to doing some cleaning only for my personal benefit? Would you like to see the results?

My desk has a FLOOR near it!!!!! The top of the desk is still trashed, but I spend too much time actually WORKING at my desk for it to ever actually be clean lol

The bookcase corner. Notice that the shovel and other manly tools have been moved to the back porch... no place to put the trim at though, so it's still in the corner until I figure something out.

The game corner! Yes, it's still kinda disorganized... but the games are together in piles, the wedding albums/photo frames are all together, and the pile of random crap to give & return to my inlaws next weekend is neatly together. GOOD ENOUGH FOR ME!!!!!

(Thanks Jen, for asking me to give pics... that helped motivate me SO much!!!!)

*~*~*~*~*~*

In happy news, I'm feeling better after my very-good-cry Sunday. I've known I needed a really good crying-ranting-raving for a while... but not been able to get it out and move on. Holidays are hard, I'm missing my dad like absolutely crazy and seeing him everywhere in everyone I meet, and James and I have both been working ourselves crazy... but things are better, and I feel much better now.

My period arrived yesterday, a full EIGHT days late... which is mainly annoying because 1. I'm not pregnant and 2. I had an algebraic equation figured out for calculating my period...

x + 2 = y

Where x = the amount of days in the cycle of the month before, and y = the amount of days that will be in the current cycle.

This had been faithfully true for several months (at least, I think it had.)... 1 day late, 3, 5,.... and now 8. Piece of crap periods!!!! Ruining my perfect algebraicly correct cycles. Grr.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Tomorrow I go to see an ear, nose, and throat doctor, and find out WHY I have had an ear infection since May, and not been able to get rid of it even with an antibiotic. (It's actually worse now.)

Dancing & Life

Last night was my second dance party, following a pre-party Waltz class. I struggled a lot, but I had a LOT of fun. I can now do some basic steps in: Foxtrot, ChaCha, Rumba, East Coast Swing, Merangue, and since none of us were giving requests to the DJ, we all learned a line dance.... which was surprisingly HARD physically. I was like... wow.

Talked to a lady there who teaches belly dancing on the campus I work at... she does that on Monday nights, so I may join the fun. They're free, and since this month will be my last regular dance class for a while as we save up money to pay for books for my classes in January... this might be a fun option for me.

I still don't feel like I have any control over my body... I still feel like the uncoordinated kid in the corner who people choose last for EVERY sports team. I wonder how long I have to dance before my body feels like it's mine, ya know?

I've become depressed. This new job, recurring grief over my dad, upcoming holidays, financial issues, combined with the normal crap (the house isn't clean, at all, because I've been depressed. I'm more depressed because the house is dirty. I'm depressed because I feel fat and ugly. Since I'm depressed, I overeat and just want to sleep all the time, thereby making myself gain more weight...) has just been too much. I need to talk to a doctor about happy pills, but that brings us back to the financial issues... I owe money to the doctor (stupid insurance switch at my old job, I didn't realized they weren't paying my doctor bills til it was too late.), so I can't get in to see her until I pay... and even if I did, I couldn't afford the prescription...

Basically, every area of my life is out of control... and I'm cracking. So, I'll go back to making collages, spending time with myself, letting myself heal... perhaps that will be enough to get me through.

They should put warning labels...

On movies like the Bucket List.

We watched it today, and I'm currently sobbing like a child. I didn't know it would impact me that deeply... and I think I would have been okay... had it not been for the woman giving her husband a lemon swab.

And it all came back to me... my dad in the hospital bed... the beeps of monitors all around... and me, giving my dad swabs of water because they were afraid to let him drink out of a cup.

Grief is such a wierd thing... a stabbing pain coming at the most unexpected of times.

Adding Insult To Injury

After we finally limped to the car after our hiking adventure, we decided to stop on the way back at the house where I grew up, and the cemetery where my dad was buried.

Keep in mind that by this time my back was spasming, my left hip was also hurting from the fall, and we were semi exhausted.

Sooooo... we passed over a little bridge on the way to my old house, and I began to cry as I told James how my Grandpa walked me down there so we could throw rocks in the stream. I was embarassed... I rarely let people see me cry if I can help it, and my brother in law was in the back seat. Anyway, I showed James the house, and all was well.

Then we went to the cemetery.

My family has a plot there... and as I went down our row, I was so happy to see the graves decorated! (Since this was a completely random trip, we hadn't brought any flowers with us. And the nearest place to buy more was... umm... *thinking* 45 minutes away? The cemetery is in the middle of nowhere. It's so far out, that on the way to my aunt's funeral the HEARSE GOT LOST!!!!! Seriously! It had to turn around in someone's driveway!!! )

My grandma had a pretty flower arrangement saying "mom", my grandpa had a pretty one saying "dad"... my uncle Joe had a blue arrangement, and my aunt Wanda had two pink ones....

And what did my dad have on his? NOTHING. My uncle went out there, put flowers on all the other stones, and left my dad's totally barren. I was SOOOOOOOOOOOOOO angry. I went to the pile of unloved flowers, and tried to fashion a bouquet for my dad out of flowers they'd taken off of other graves to mow. Most were faded, missing flowers, or dirty...

I had to make my dad a bouquet out of the FREAKING TRASH! THE TRASH!!!!!!! I was so mad. I sobbed, I yelled, I threw ugly flowers, and called my uncle some things I won't repeat on here. I was emotionally devestated. I ranted on the way home, and at a barbeque James's family had that night... people just looked at me like I was crazy and completely flipping over nothing. I was too angry to care at that point.

Finally, the next day I couldn't handle it anymore, and went back out there with a crapload of flowers. My dad's grave is now extremely festive, with a gnormous bouquet of blue and white flowers that I arranged myself.

His dignity is restored, and I'm at peace again.

A Little Down

I really hate birthdays. I know I rant about that every year, but they really do annoy me. I miss my dad like crazy... I miss hoping he would call... I just miss him. I plan to visit his grave sometime soon.

I have decided that every friend in my outside-the-computer-life asks for far too much help from me, and am considering going on a help-strike. No homework help, no computer help, no rides, no cleaning.... ESPECIALLY if the words "thank you" are not included in your vocabulary.

Now that I have ranted, and feel cleansed...

Not everything is bad!!!! Lots is good, in fact!

Remember when I posted here about my intimacy issues because of endometriosis?? We have learned to compensate, and that the pain kind of cycles... some days don't hurt at all! (Other days... well... we won't go there.) Intimacy rocks!!!!!!!!!!!!

I finally finished one of the two swaps I'm behind on... One was making 31 pages for an itty bitty book to swap, (that one I finished) and one is making 11 quilt blocks to swap. I LOVE LOVE LOVE how much swaps like that stretch my abilities!! I learn SO much from each swap I enter! I do not-so-much love how much pressure I feel as I swap... "Is it good enough? Will people like it? Mine seems different than everyone else's!" I need to learn that although Jana-art is very different than other people's... (less girl stuff. lots more words. less ribbons. No bows.)... it is okay. I need to look for swaps that seem to embrace that distinctiveness. I also need to READ THE FREAKING DIRECTIONS BEFORE I MAKE THE STUFF!! You know, I always got a G (G = good, S = Satisfactory, N = needs improvement) on my report card in kindergarten for "Follows directions well". Why the heck am I having such a problem as an adult?!?! Also, while I'm ranting, WHERE THE HECK IS MY SEAM RIPPER?! Okay, I feel better now that i've said that.

Okay, this post is getting really random... probably because it's six am and I'm awake... *shudder*. I have a nice warm bed waiting for me, and an awesome hubby to cuddle... so... goodnight everyone! If you've managed to read this far, and survived my completely bizarre ramblings... you deserve a cookie. Oatmeal cookie, anyone? *handing them out, one plate of with raisins and one plate without*

A Year-Old Post

I was going through my journal today, the one that I took with me to the hospital the week my dad died, to find a poem I wanted to share with you all. I FINALLY have internet access at home again, so I can talk about my dad without worrying about people thinking I'm nuts if I cry. (Like they would if I posted on my lunch at work.)

Anyway, as I was turning the pages, I found a BLOG POST I had written out for you all. I think I wrote it when my dad was first put into the hospital.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"I wonder today, about how truly wierd life is. I post on my blog about abuse, and a week later, my abuser is hospitalized. I wonder...

Do you wonder how I feel?

If so, don't worry, I asked myself the same thing. How DO I feel about my dad?

CONFLICTED!

I LOVE him so much! I long for him to love me, to be proud of me.

I FEAR him. His words have cut like knives, with no warning and no remorse.

I DISTRUST him. He lies, he fakes, and his moods change constantly.

I JEALOUSLY GUARD HIM. He is MY DADDY and no one can be loved more than I am. (This feeling wierds me out.)

I DISTANCE myself from him emotionally. I hold my real self in a protective embrace, and hide it deep inside.

I BEG FOR MORE TIME. He can't die now! We have unfinished business. I'm afraid he'll die without ever really knowing me.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It's interesting how things played out in the end. My dad DID die then... but the unfinished business was mostly finished first. While he was in the hospital after the first & second strokes, I read to him (The Bible and Hamlet), sang to him, chatted with him... and I know he heard me then. I told him some things that I hadn't told him before... chatted about memories I had... by the time I left the hospital, I felt like he knew me better than he had before. And from all the time I sat beside him... I felt closer to him too. It was very strange.

2 Days Sans Happy Pills

Yes, I went off my happy pills for a few days to mourn the anniversary of my father's death. I sometimes miss being able to feel, I mean DEEPLY feel, my emotions. So every once in a great while, I skip a day or two, to feel a special event.

So, what did I feel yesterday? I did grieve for a while... I re-read a letter sent to me by one of my ICU-waiting-room-budds when her hubby died... and everything became real again. So often, my father's death seems unreal.. just a very bad dream.

With that exception, I spent the last two days feeling exactly like I did before I started taking the Prozac. And how was that?

Paranoid. Of all of the changes in myself, this was by FAR the most noticeable (and scary.) When my dad was first hospitalized with his stroke, he was delusional and paranoid... his paranoia? He was afraid that the doctors would let him die because he was poor and had no insurance. My paranoia? "Everyone is talking about me behind my back, saying I'm crazy. Everyone thinks I'm crazy. I'm going to loose my job, because they think I'm too crazy to work here. Maybe I AM too crazy to work here. I have flyaways in my hair... I even look like a crazy person!" In fact, today at work, I even compared myself to the crazy cat lady from the Simpsons. Frightening similarities emerged. (We both like cats! Ahhhhhhhhh it's a sign!!!!! lol)

Lack of Perspective - Without my happy pills, EVERYTHING is a big deal. Little things seem just as important as big things. The tiniest remark by a friend or co-worker seems like the biggest deal EVER, when it is TOTALLY inconsequencial.

Inability to "get over it" - Without my happy pills, I can't just brush things off... AT ALL. Minor things get under my skin and just eat at me... and eat at me... until I do something about them.

Insomnia - My mind races, and sleep is next to impossible.

Physical anxiety symptoms - my heart races, breathing can be hard, I'm restless, I can't concentrate...

So now, 2 happy pills later, life is SOOOOOO good. I'm calm, I'm happy, but still clear-headed enough to face my problems.

I can't help but wonder... HOW ON EARTH DID I LIVE LIKE THAT BEFORE PROZAC?!

A Year Ago Today...

I found out that my Dad was not going to get any better. After days of sleeping at a hospital, worrying, wondering why he had two strokes when he was on blood thinners already... the doctors took us back to talk to us. They had a theory, that the Staph A and MRZA infections that Dad was battling were somehow lodged in his artificial heart valve, and sending blood clots to his brain.

I learned that as next of kin, the decisions regarding his care were up to me... less than a week before that time, my Dad had been independant, living alone, taking care of himself... now his fever was outrageous and unable to be lowered, his health was so bad that the doctors couldn't risk replacing his valve. I learned terms like Power of Attorney, chatted with a lawyer...

I had been without my Prozac since Friday... and refused to go home for it. I wanted to FEEL this... I wanted to be able to pray for my dad, talk to him, cry for him. I am SO glad I didn't take my Prozac that week.

I sat in a waiting room, chatting with two women who I will never forget. Both of their husbands were in the hospital, and both were staying in the ICU waiting rooms. One taught me how to crochet cute little hearts... one made me laugh. We worked a puzzle together... chatted a lot... they were SUCH a God-send. (Which, when a lady prayed for me at the start of Dad's ordeal, she had specifically prayed that God would send "Christian fellowship" to me as I waited. And although I don't really know the religions of everyone I met through the ordeal... the prayer was very effective. Without that, I would have cracked for sure.) We had become "hardcore" ICU waiters... handing out pillows and blankies to the "newbies", telling them where things were and how to work the phones...

I had learned how to successfully sponge-bathe in a hospital restroom. While visiting hours were done one day, I rushed to the dollar store and grabbed shower gel and a towel... and washed my hair in the bathroom sink and my body as well.

Note about Today: I'm doing surprisingly well at the moment... Friday I went on a crazy cleaning spree, and so Saturday we got to just relax and hang out here at home... playing Lego Star Wars and enjoying a visit from April the Neighbor. Yesterday we went to church and then to James's Aunt Clara's house... I got to see my NEICE!!!!! I have a NEICE!!!!!!!! She is a year old (long story about that) and absolutely adorable! She's not exactly sure how to feel about Aunt Jana, but I'm pretty sure that giving her food raised her opinion of me quite a bit lol Aunt Clara taught me how to make cavatini, I got to chat with my almost-sister-in-laws, we collaged and just hung out... altogether, I think everyone may be working to keep me busy? (And therefore distracted.)

I've talked to James about this week, and how I'll need his support... he's been great. Life now is good, and last year just seems like a horribly unreal nightmare.

Yesterday

Can you believe, yesterday was James & I's one month anniversary! We have been married only a month! It seems like we've always been together. :)

He pointed out yesterday that it was our one month anniversary... but I wasn't feeling too cheerful. Later, I realized that it was also the one-year anniversary of The Call. One week from today marks the anniversary of my father's death.

I've pretty much went into emotional shutdown in the past week or so... the pressures of work, learning to work together in marriage, money, leaky roofs,... combined with knowing that it's Febuary, and eventually I will have to deal with my father's death... It's been hard. In so many ways, I just want to lay down and hide from it all... I don't want to get up, or go to work, or go anywhere else... I just want to hide from it all. But grief is not something that you can hide from.

So for the next two weeks, I'm making a commitment on this blog to be open with what i'm feeling. My blog may not be the warm-fuzziest place for these two weeks, it may not always be cheerful and happy,... but I know I'm not alone in grieving, and maybe someone reading this will need to know that they aren't alone either.

I Miss You Dad.

You've been gone 11 months now
Almost a year.

The cold weather,
The white snow,
Rremind me of you...

The cold was bitter
Snow and ice covered the parking lot
A nurse helped me carry your things
and my things
Out to the car.

I pulled out of the lot,
Exhausted
Drained
Unable to grasp the reality

You were gone.

Grief

While I was bloghopping today, I noticed a post by Liz Elayne for Poetry Thursday. She posted a powerful poem about grief, which made me remember one I'd written a long while back and that I don't think I ever shared. I wrote this after my Grandpa and Aunt Wanda died... sometimes back then, life just seemed so overwhelming. Tiny things, like seeing a car not pull over for a funeral procession, would bring a flood of emotions over me... so strong it even hurt physically. I wrote this poem for a friend who lost her father, to explain the way the healing came (and is still coming) into my life.

Grief

A scene on the street
a sight
a sound
memories surge around me
a tidal wave of emotions
flooding
overwhelming
How will I survive?

Time passes

A scene on the street
a sight
a sound
memories flow
like tears from my eyes
surrounding
permeating
I miss you so badly!

Time passes

A scene on the street
a sight
a sound
memories pass before my eyes
scenes from a silent movie
surreal
detached
Was this all just a nightmare?

Time passes

A scene on the street
a sight
a sound
buried memories surface
green leaves after an icy winter
fresh
optimistic
I let myself remember you again.

Time passes

A scene on the street
a sight
a sound
memories unfurled
petals of spring’s first blooms
vibrant
serene
I can never forget you.

Categories: Grief, Family, Poetry, PT,