There is no way that I can do this post without sounding negative. However, that's not the purpose. The purpose is to remind me always of the differences right here in the U.S. It might serve as an opportunity for you to see a different perspective.
Healthcare is easily the thing I took for granted the most before we moved. In 16 years, I had 4 primary care doctors. The first, I left because he was terrible and our insurance changed giving me more options. The second two were in the same office. They both left for other positions. However, I was with them for over 10 years total. The last few years in KC, I switched to a young lady at St. Luke's and she was great.
Over the years, we both saw a handful of specialists. Dermatologist. Gynecologist/fertility. Surgeon. Orthodontist. ENT. And others. We never had to drive far. In fact, we only had a 30 minute drive to one. If we needed an ER, we had a 5 minute drive to one of the best in the city.
We had first class, top-notch care. The offices and hospitals were clean and sanitary. It was exactly what you would expect. The only complaint was an occasional longer than average wait. Even that was not super common.
I don't want anyone to think it was perfect. There were a few bumps in the road. There were some annoyances. We always knew that if one doctor didn't suit our needs, we had a long list within five miles to chose from.
We joke sometimes that we moved to a third world country. My KC friends would agree, I'm positive of it.
Last summer, we learned very quick that healthcare was not equal to what we left. After a full day of calls, I found nobody locally who took our insurance and had any openings within three months. My husband finally found a sympathetic receptionist who listened to his story about moving and need for med refills. He got an appointment within a month.
During that time, I also began searching for a gynocologists because I knew I had a problem. Nobody had any openings within six months for me. In August, I had my first ER visit.
I know I've written about this before, but as a reminder.... We were treated like scum of the earth in the ER. There was no care, compassion or privacy. They failed to do a pregnancy test. They sent me home knowing my hemoglobin was low and nothing for pain, let alone all the other problems. They were more concerned about my BP than anything. They did get me in with a gyno three days later.
That gyno didn't speak English well and was fresh off her residency. She too failed to do a pregnancy test and gave me the most painful biopsy of my life. She ordered no bloodwork and was also most concerned about my BP. Of course my BP was high, I felt like death.
The next month, I finally got a referral from my chiropractor of all people to a better gyno. He got me right in and did surgery. He also saved my life! He is an excellent doctor. However, after dealing with his office staff now for a year, I can tell you his quality of service isn't seen in the staff. They have been awful! They are incompetent and only care about filling his schedule. The entire office has a huge communication problem. I am once again in search of another gyno.
In the meantime, we had other medical issues.
My husband had to go to one specialist after another. None around here have taken new clients any sooner than two months. When we drove 90 minutes for the big problems, we got right in. His arm doctor was absolutely the only comparable office, care and doctor to our KC choices. Beacon Orthopededics was awesome! His back doctor works out of an old, smelly, dirty office in Cincinnati. He's a good doctor, but his staff obviously hate their jobs.
I had two more visits to ERs. One more at the local hospital, where I got two warfarin shots in the belly and sent home with a probable blood clot in my leg. The other time was about 30 minutes away when I was puking and doubled over in pain. Those idiots hooked me up to an IV with pain meds and then wanted me to walk all over the hospital for tests and scans. Right!!!
Since I was having issues, I did call and set up an appointment with a local doctor. New patient, two month wait. Two days before my appointment, I got a call that the doctor had left the practice. Ok. Schedule with a different doctor. Two months wait. Day before appointment, I get a call that the doctor left the practice. No more doctors in that practice who take our insurance. One of the only offices locally who take our insurance and new patients is my husbands doctor.
Ok! My issues have resolved, so it wasn't urgent. However, it's time for an annual physical. As of August 1st, my husbands doctor no longer takes our insurance.
We will have at least 45 minutes to find a new doctor now.
I spent a year on the wait list for the only psychologist who takes our insurance. Kent has been on the wait list 15 months, but mine was a bit more urgent. The day I went in for paperwork, they announced that only provider was no longer going to be in their office and there were no providers for our insurance.
We are on our second dentist since moving and are in search of our second optometrist.
Besides our chiropractor, there has been NO office or hospital who has billed my insurance correctly. We've paid multiple copays us on Kent because of incompetence in billing staff.
I've noticed that if I complain, the locals get a bit offensive. I understand. I probably would to if I'd lived here forever. I get it.
But let me be clear, the people here do not get the care they deserve. The people here deserve the kind of care and options we had in KC. They deserve to have compassionate staff and doctors who care.
I hate that the healthcare system is so broken here. It seems great to some people here because it's the best they've ever had. But they could and should have better.
I LOVE my community. If I could bring one thing here to give to this community, it would be a better healthcare system.
Again, I know this sounds so negative. I know there are exceptions to everything I've shared. I know a couple nurses who are amazing and I'm sure there are others. They do their best with what they've got to work with.
But, and it's a big BUT, there's no equality been here and KC. There's really no comparisons between here and where we grew up either. Even where we grew up has higher quality care and facilities.
It's not likely to change with the current administration.
Tuesday, August 11, 2015
Monday, August 10, 2015
State Fair
As I said before, we do want to embrace our new home and area. We are explorers by nature, so we enjoy checking out the obscure and the things considered family favorites. Yesterday, we headed to the Ohio State Fair.
It had been 26 years since I went to my first and only state fair in Minnesota. I don't remember much except the food and Viking ships. It was Minnesota after all. My husband had never been to a state fair. We had only been to the county fair back home together.
When we lived in KC, county fairs weren't popular like they are here. Here, they close schools down for the county fair week. Crazy, I know! The Missouri State Fair was a family tradition for some friends, but not anything we ever made the 45 minute drive for.
With a few things we had going on, the last day of the fair was the only one that worked with our schedule. And it was packed!!!!
We got there as it opened. It's about 90 minutes away, which is really nothing since almost everything is an hour away. It was about 75 degrees and pleasant. However, I forgot sunscreen.
Once you step in the gate, three things were clear. One, we had a multitude of choices for lunch. Two, this state loves John Deere. Three, the one thing they love more the JD is the OSU Buckeyes. The state has 2 professional football and baseball teams, a professional hockey and basketball teams and many semi pro teams. They even have some excellent universities who do well in sports. But nobody is as universally loved as the Buckeyes.
Just to be clear, except the Bengals, we haven't given up our favored teams and embraced the local ones.
We walked through a couple buildings with fair entries in crafts and food. We also walked through the Marketplace filled with blood sucking salesmen. Seriously though, Direct TV is the worst! We only went in one animal barn and that was enough. It smelled so bad! Maybe had it been cooler and earlier in the fair, we'd have spent more time looking at the animals.
Looking at all the cakes, breads, candies and cookies got us good and ready for lunch. We chose a BBQ vendor. Big surprise! He had ribs, I had chicken. I was strategic. It was easier to justify dessert with a healthier lunch. Believe me, I'd rather have eaten the tenderloin the size of my head. So, grilled chicken it was.
After lunch, we hit the dairy barn. There was the giant butter display. I'd seen a cow carved out of butter, but this was far more. It was a cow, calf, two football helmets and Brutus the Buckeye mascot. Quite impressive! It was rednecky and made us feel at home.
We made the giant loop through the fair and decided to go home after about four hours. On the way to the gate, a dessert stop was necessary. The supplements we take have eliminated sugar cravings, but we still enjoy an occasional dessert.
So, a funnel cake was a must. We didn't pick just a plain cake. Oh no! We had a cake topped with hot chocolate, marshmallow cream and graham cracker crumbles. Smores on a funnel cake. It was ooey gooey sticky goodness. Truthfully, it made me sick and was totally worth it.
We walked off some of those calories with the 1/2 mile walk to the car.
Let me tell you what happened.
It was 88 degrees when we left. We spent 4 hours in the sun. I had drank only 1 small bottle of water. Bad news for me!
I was extremely dehydrated and sunburnt. I'm fair skinned, pale and the sun is not my friend. I also dehydrate easily. My face was hot, my body was cold. I was dizzy and a little delirious. I had waves of nausea rolling over me and I was certain I was going to spew funnel cake everywhere. I downed another bottle of water, but it took a while to get hydrated.
We stopped at SAMs for some shopping and I was a mess. I barely remember most of the store, but was coherent enough to pull my mental list out. I do remember my husband asking why I was so goofy and telling him I didn't feel good. The sun doesn't effect him the same way.
We were back in the car before I started feeling a little bit better and more like myself.
Once we were home, I stayed on the couch all night except to eat dinner. I also slept 9 hours last night and feel a little puny today. Thankfully, only my face is still red and no terrible burns. It sucks to have that reaction to heat and sun. It's happened since I was a kid and only doesn't happen when I stay well hydrated and use sunscreen. Evidently it's a form of sun poisoning.
Since we are planning to stay, I think the fair is a fun, family tradition for us. It was worth it. Next time, sunscreen and lots of water.
It had been 26 years since I went to my first and only state fair in Minnesota. I don't remember much except the food and Viking ships. It was Minnesota after all. My husband had never been to a state fair. We had only been to the county fair back home together.
When we lived in KC, county fairs weren't popular like they are here. Here, they close schools down for the county fair week. Crazy, I know! The Missouri State Fair was a family tradition for some friends, but not anything we ever made the 45 minute drive for.
With a few things we had going on, the last day of the fair was the only one that worked with our schedule. And it was packed!!!!
We got there as it opened. It's about 90 minutes away, which is really nothing since almost everything is an hour away. It was about 75 degrees and pleasant. However, I forgot sunscreen.
Once you step in the gate, three things were clear. One, we had a multitude of choices for lunch. Two, this state loves John Deere. Three, the one thing they love more the JD is the OSU Buckeyes. The state has 2 professional football and baseball teams, a professional hockey and basketball teams and many semi pro teams. They even have some excellent universities who do well in sports. But nobody is as universally loved as the Buckeyes.
Just to be clear, except the Bengals, we haven't given up our favored teams and embraced the local ones.
We walked through a couple buildings with fair entries in crafts and food. We also walked through the Marketplace filled with blood sucking salesmen. Seriously though, Direct TV is the worst! We only went in one animal barn and that was enough. It smelled so bad! Maybe had it been cooler and earlier in the fair, we'd have spent more time looking at the animals.
Looking at all the cakes, breads, candies and cookies got us good and ready for lunch. We chose a BBQ vendor. Big surprise! He had ribs, I had chicken. I was strategic. It was easier to justify dessert with a healthier lunch. Believe me, I'd rather have eaten the tenderloin the size of my head. So, grilled chicken it was.
After lunch, we hit the dairy barn. There was the giant butter display. I'd seen a cow carved out of butter, but this was far more. It was a cow, calf, two football helmets and Brutus the Buckeye mascot. Quite impressive! It was rednecky and made us feel at home.
We made the giant loop through the fair and decided to go home after about four hours. On the way to the gate, a dessert stop was necessary. The supplements we take have eliminated sugar cravings, but we still enjoy an occasional dessert.
So, a funnel cake was a must. We didn't pick just a plain cake. Oh no! We had a cake topped with hot chocolate, marshmallow cream and graham cracker crumbles. Smores on a funnel cake. It was ooey gooey sticky goodness. Truthfully, it made me sick and was totally worth it.
We walked off some of those calories with the 1/2 mile walk to the car.
Let me tell you what happened.
It was 88 degrees when we left. We spent 4 hours in the sun. I had drank only 1 small bottle of water. Bad news for me!
I was extremely dehydrated and sunburnt. I'm fair skinned, pale and the sun is not my friend. I also dehydrate easily. My face was hot, my body was cold. I was dizzy and a little delirious. I had waves of nausea rolling over me and I was certain I was going to spew funnel cake everywhere. I downed another bottle of water, but it took a while to get hydrated.
We stopped at SAMs for some shopping and I was a mess. I barely remember most of the store, but was coherent enough to pull my mental list out. I do remember my husband asking why I was so goofy and telling him I didn't feel good. The sun doesn't effect him the same way.
We were back in the car before I started feeling a little bit better and more like myself.
Once we were home, I stayed on the couch all night except to eat dinner. I also slept 9 hours last night and feel a little puny today. Thankfully, only my face is still red and no terrible burns. It sucks to have that reaction to heat and sun. It's happened since I was a kid and only doesn't happen when I stay well hydrated and use sunscreen. Evidently it's a form of sun poisoning.
Since we are planning to stay, I think the fair is a fun, family tradition for us. It was worth it. Next time, sunscreen and lots of water.
Friday, August 7, 2015
Fat Shaming
Today at the store, a younger girl walked passed me with a couple friends. The girl was overweight with tight shirt and shorts. Her belly was hanging out of her shirt. She was covered in tats and her face covered in piercings.
I had on a modest tshirts that went to my hips and a pair of capris. I always dress conservative. I rarely wear earrings in my only two piercings. My only tattoo is always covered. My hair is probably the least conservative part of me and it's not outlandish.
As she walked by, she belted out "look at that ugly oinker."
Damn the stabilized hormones and emotions. That stuff used to not bother me. Now I have these things called feelings and stuff like that hurts. Prior to a few years ago, I'd flipped her the bird, called her a loser whore and went on. I didn't. I walked on by as the entire bunch laughed and the girl made pig noises.
This girl obviously has issues. She was no Barbie.
I was so sad. Not sad for me as much as the next person she decides to treat that way. It'll happen. I'm not special. I was just available.
What that girl and everyone else who makes a surface judgement about me based on how I lol or my size is that I'm trying. I'm trying harder than ever before.
I'm barely a month into this journey. And it is a journey. Nobody really knows about the journey. A couple gals I walk with and my husband. They are the only ones who actively encourage me because they are active parts of this journey.
It's a hard road. I don't want to get up and walk in the mornings. I don't want to count every calorie. I don't want to eat healthy or find ways to be active. But I do want to be healthier. This journey is about being a healthier me.
There have been times when I've felt so encouraged to keep going and there have been times when I've been so discouraged that I wanted to quit.
People who fat shame others do not make the problem better. It's not encouraging. It brings down even the strongest person who's working their hardest to change their life.
I wanted to drag her ass off to the side and show her the changes I've made in the last month. The changes I've made are paying off.
I am down 16 lbs, 2" in my hips, 4" in the waist, 3.5" in the chest, 3" around the back and shoulders, 1" in my arms and 2" off the thighs. I can tell I'm gaining muscle in the arms and thighs.
There's not one lb or inch that has been easy or come without work and dedication. I've walked with foot pain and leg cramps. I've chosen veggies over chips and popcorn over ice cream.
When the girl chose to belittle me, I had to remind myself that I've been there before. I've been made fun of thousands of times. It would be a lie to say I've not been made fun of the past month. It happens. I think it hurts a little more when I'm trying so hard.
I'm not doing this so people won't be mean to me. I'm doing this so I can breathe easier walking up stairs and so I can enjoy a long walk on the beach and have more options when shopping for clothes and not have to spend the rest of my life on medications because my weight causes health problems.
I had on a modest tshirts that went to my hips and a pair of capris. I always dress conservative. I rarely wear earrings in my only two piercings. My only tattoo is always covered. My hair is probably the least conservative part of me and it's not outlandish.
As she walked by, she belted out "look at that ugly oinker."
Damn the stabilized hormones and emotions. That stuff used to not bother me. Now I have these things called feelings and stuff like that hurts. Prior to a few years ago, I'd flipped her the bird, called her a loser whore and went on. I didn't. I walked on by as the entire bunch laughed and the girl made pig noises.
This girl obviously has issues. She was no Barbie.
I was so sad. Not sad for me as much as the next person she decides to treat that way. It'll happen. I'm not special. I was just available.
What that girl and everyone else who makes a surface judgement about me based on how I lol or my size is that I'm trying. I'm trying harder than ever before.
I'm barely a month into this journey. And it is a journey. Nobody really knows about the journey. A couple gals I walk with and my husband. They are the only ones who actively encourage me because they are active parts of this journey.
It's a hard road. I don't want to get up and walk in the mornings. I don't want to count every calorie. I don't want to eat healthy or find ways to be active. But I do want to be healthier. This journey is about being a healthier me.
There have been times when I've felt so encouraged to keep going and there have been times when I've been so discouraged that I wanted to quit.
People who fat shame others do not make the problem better. It's not encouraging. It brings down even the strongest person who's working their hardest to change their life.
I wanted to drag her ass off to the side and show her the changes I've made in the last month. The changes I've made are paying off.
I am down 16 lbs, 2" in my hips, 4" in the waist, 3.5" in the chest, 3" around the back and shoulders, 1" in my arms and 2" off the thighs. I can tell I'm gaining muscle in the arms and thighs.
There's not one lb or inch that has been easy or come without work and dedication. I've walked with foot pain and leg cramps. I've chosen veggies over chips and popcorn over ice cream.
When the girl chose to belittle me, I had to remind myself that I've been there before. I've been made fun of thousands of times. It would be a lie to say I've not been made fun of the past month. It happens. I think it hurts a little more when I'm trying so hard.
I'm not doing this so people won't be mean to me. I'm doing this so I can breathe easier walking up stairs and so I can enjoy a long walk on the beach and have more options when shopping for clothes and not have to spend the rest of my life on medications because my weight causes health problems.
Wednesday, August 5, 2015
Year 17
Last Saturday, we celebrated our 17th anniversary. This one, while not special in number, was the sweetest one of all.
After the past two years, I feel like we worked harder to get to this one. I also feel like we love each other better than ever before.
I don't have to enumerate the reasons why the past two years have been hard. I can't honestly say that either of us ever considered leaving. However, we were exasperated at times and wondered how it would ever work out. Things were so unstable and uncertain that the future was scary. We both feared what the next bad thing would do to our relationship.
We didn't have the easiest start. Our wedding and honeymoon were a disaster. We were so different. He had been a single guy living a bachelor life for well over ten years. To say we had a lot of adapting to do was an understatement.
I'll just get completely honest. My husband had no clue what he had gotten himself into. I was a mess. I had debt. I had severe mood swings we didn't understand. I was angry. I didn't like him, but didn't want to leave. At least not most of the time. Ok. I wanted to leave all the time.
It's hard to admit, but I was abusive to him both physically and verbally. I had a rage that would come over me and I would spin out of control. I had no understanding or even memory of my actions most of the time. I left him many times. Most times it was late at night and I would take off barefoot down the road spewing hate and obscenities at him.
His family hates me and I hated them. My family hated me and loved him and I hated him for that. I lied and cheated. I manipulated until I got my way, only to hate him after. I trashed him to anyone who would listen and accused him of all the terrible things I was doing.
This wasn't just the average rough start to a marriage. There was a whole lot going on with me that we didn't know and didn't understand. We didn't know I had PTSD. We didn't know about a long list of other issues and problems.
Think my husband is a saint? Me too!
This man! Let me tell you about him and I'll do it through tears. It's painful to know and absolutely amazing grace.
He never left. Never even considered it. As I yelled that I hated him and wanted a divorce, he'd repeat how much he loved me through sobbing and crying. As I lost control and took swings at him, he wrapped me up as tight as he could and held me until I calmed down. He hunted for hours when I threatened suicide and hid from him.
The list goes on. Before you hate me, please keep in mind that there was a lot more to the story that we wouldn't understand until much later in our marriage.
By no means was he perfect. He held onto a lot of anger toward me for a lot of years over my actions. He let his unforgiveness ruin a lot of the good times. He let his hardened heart keep him from seeing a desire in me to change or have a better life. He allowed his family to interfere and have input where it wasn't helpful.
To the best of his ability, he loved me through it. I've asked him over the past few years why. His answer is always the same. He took a vow in front of God to love me for better or worse. Last night, we had a similar discussion. We both agreed that nobody would have known how to correctly love someone who believed and wanted to be unlovable. He eventually had a mountain of information to take in and assimilate. I think even he admits now that the deck was stacked against him and he did the best he could at the time. We both agree that a lesser man would have given up long before.
At five years, I began to love him. At ten years, I started to understand what that love meant. Now, I'm completely in love with him. I love him beyond what I can describe. There are no words. He is a part of me. No, I don't always like him but I always love him.
It's been a long road. A lot longer than I can write here. I never thought I'd say this, but it's a love story. It's an awesome story of how God can work in lives even before they become committed to Him. It's a story of suffering and perseverance. It's painful and beautiful. It's a story of grace and mercy.
Of course I regret that it took so long to love him the way I do now. But without the suffering in the journey, I'm not sure I would love so deeply or have such an appreciation for him.
I'll end with this:
As a senior, my speech teacher said that real love is unexplainable. If you say you love someone and can list the reasons, then you're in love with the reasons. If you truly love someone, you'll not have any reasons and there will be no words.
I have no list of reasons and no words. I love this man because I do.
After the past two years, I feel like we worked harder to get to this one. I also feel like we love each other better than ever before.
I don't have to enumerate the reasons why the past two years have been hard. I can't honestly say that either of us ever considered leaving. However, we were exasperated at times and wondered how it would ever work out. Things were so unstable and uncertain that the future was scary. We both feared what the next bad thing would do to our relationship.
We didn't have the easiest start. Our wedding and honeymoon were a disaster. We were so different. He had been a single guy living a bachelor life for well over ten years. To say we had a lot of adapting to do was an understatement.
I'll just get completely honest. My husband had no clue what he had gotten himself into. I was a mess. I had debt. I had severe mood swings we didn't understand. I was angry. I didn't like him, but didn't want to leave. At least not most of the time. Ok. I wanted to leave all the time.
It's hard to admit, but I was abusive to him both physically and verbally. I had a rage that would come over me and I would spin out of control. I had no understanding or even memory of my actions most of the time. I left him many times. Most times it was late at night and I would take off barefoot down the road spewing hate and obscenities at him.
His family hates me and I hated them. My family hated me and loved him and I hated him for that. I lied and cheated. I manipulated until I got my way, only to hate him after. I trashed him to anyone who would listen and accused him of all the terrible things I was doing.
This wasn't just the average rough start to a marriage. There was a whole lot going on with me that we didn't know and didn't understand. We didn't know I had PTSD. We didn't know about a long list of other issues and problems.
Think my husband is a saint? Me too!
This man! Let me tell you about him and I'll do it through tears. It's painful to know and absolutely amazing grace.
He never left. Never even considered it. As I yelled that I hated him and wanted a divorce, he'd repeat how much he loved me through sobbing and crying. As I lost control and took swings at him, he wrapped me up as tight as he could and held me until I calmed down. He hunted for hours when I threatened suicide and hid from him.
The list goes on. Before you hate me, please keep in mind that there was a lot more to the story that we wouldn't understand until much later in our marriage.
By no means was he perfect. He held onto a lot of anger toward me for a lot of years over my actions. He let his unforgiveness ruin a lot of the good times. He let his hardened heart keep him from seeing a desire in me to change or have a better life. He allowed his family to interfere and have input where it wasn't helpful.
To the best of his ability, he loved me through it. I've asked him over the past few years why. His answer is always the same. He took a vow in front of God to love me for better or worse. Last night, we had a similar discussion. We both agreed that nobody would have known how to correctly love someone who believed and wanted to be unlovable. He eventually had a mountain of information to take in and assimilate. I think even he admits now that the deck was stacked against him and he did the best he could at the time. We both agree that a lesser man would have given up long before.
At five years, I began to love him. At ten years, I started to understand what that love meant. Now, I'm completely in love with him. I love him beyond what I can describe. There are no words. He is a part of me. No, I don't always like him but I always love him.
It's been a long road. A lot longer than I can write here. I never thought I'd say this, but it's a love story. It's an awesome story of how God can work in lives even before they become committed to Him. It's a story of suffering and perseverance. It's painful and beautiful. It's a story of grace and mercy.
Of course I regret that it took so long to love him the way I do now. But without the suffering in the journey, I'm not sure I would love so deeply or have such an appreciation for him.
I'll end with this:
As a senior, my speech teacher said that real love is unexplainable. If you say you love someone and can list the reasons, then you're in love with the reasons. If you truly love someone, you'll not have any reasons and there will be no words.
I have no list of reasons and no words. I love this man because I do.
Tuesday, August 4, 2015
Mom Dream
Most days, I don't think about my mom. I try not to. It never ends well. Ever!
But sometimes, I can't keep from it. It would be easier if my mom were deceased. Then I'd never have to wonder if she thinks of me, misses me or anything else. My heart longs for that day. It'll be a definitive moment of transition in my life.
Don't get me wrong. For the sake of my nieces and nephews, I don't want that moment to come sooner than Gods plan. I am not ready for them to feel the pain of losing a grandparent. Two of them have already experienced the loss of a young aunt and uncle.
There is no hope of reconciliation with my mom and I've accepted that. It's not something I pray for nor long for.
However, my heart still deeply longs for a mother. I can't shut that off, even though I try.
I woke up at 4 am after what seemed like a long dream.
My dad was gone and my mom was working at the local Walmart. I know, crazy. I didn't recognize her as we stood in her check out line. After I paid, she run around the counter and hugged me. She told me to go pick out whatever I wanted from the store and bring it back so she could pay. I insisted that wasn't needed, but she said she had a lot of years to make up for missing.
First of all, my mom wouldn't have hugged me. Ever! She's not an affectionate person. I've been told that even as a baby, she showed no affection with me. No hugs. No kisses. It's part of the reason it took me so long to be ok with hugs and affection. It's also the reason I struggle to initiate affection.
Second, it touched on my love language. My love language is gifts. I've written about that before. There's so good reasons for it. However, my mom doesn't know what my love language is and likely doesn't know what a love language is.
My mom operates in a sad, dark place where buying things for someone is buying their love and the only way to keep them around. Even though my love language is gifts, I know the gift is not the ultimate sign of love. I cannot be bought, but she can. It's also a sick game that her and my dad played. It was the I'm going to beat the crap out of you and then buy you something nice. It makes my skin crawl.
Third, my mom isn't that generous. She's selfish and self consumed. She's more likely to spend her last $20 on cigarettes and lottery tickets than buy milk for her grandchild. It's painful for her to give up a penny to anyone and she knows little about sacrifice.
The dream definitely touched on those things that hurt. It's hard during this time of year. It's hard during holidays and birthdays.
My relationship with my parents was severed eight years ago today. But the loss came long before that. In all my 40 years, I've never had any semblance of a mother.
While the dream wasn't awful, it wasn't real either.
But sometimes, I can't keep from it. It would be easier if my mom were deceased. Then I'd never have to wonder if she thinks of me, misses me or anything else. My heart longs for that day. It'll be a definitive moment of transition in my life.
Don't get me wrong. For the sake of my nieces and nephews, I don't want that moment to come sooner than Gods plan. I am not ready for them to feel the pain of losing a grandparent. Two of them have already experienced the loss of a young aunt and uncle.
There is no hope of reconciliation with my mom and I've accepted that. It's not something I pray for nor long for.
However, my heart still deeply longs for a mother. I can't shut that off, even though I try.
I woke up at 4 am after what seemed like a long dream.
My dad was gone and my mom was working at the local Walmart. I know, crazy. I didn't recognize her as we stood in her check out line. After I paid, she run around the counter and hugged me. She told me to go pick out whatever I wanted from the store and bring it back so she could pay. I insisted that wasn't needed, but she said she had a lot of years to make up for missing.
First of all, my mom wouldn't have hugged me. Ever! She's not an affectionate person. I've been told that even as a baby, she showed no affection with me. No hugs. No kisses. It's part of the reason it took me so long to be ok with hugs and affection. It's also the reason I struggle to initiate affection.
Second, it touched on my love language. My love language is gifts. I've written about that before. There's so good reasons for it. However, my mom doesn't know what my love language is and likely doesn't know what a love language is.
My mom operates in a sad, dark place where buying things for someone is buying their love and the only way to keep them around. Even though my love language is gifts, I know the gift is not the ultimate sign of love. I cannot be bought, but she can. It's also a sick game that her and my dad played. It was the I'm going to beat the crap out of you and then buy you something nice. It makes my skin crawl.
Third, my mom isn't that generous. She's selfish and self consumed. She's more likely to spend her last $20 on cigarettes and lottery tickets than buy milk for her grandchild. It's painful for her to give up a penny to anyone and she knows little about sacrifice.
The dream definitely touched on those things that hurt. It's hard during this time of year. It's hard during holidays and birthdays.
My relationship with my parents was severed eight years ago today. But the loss came long before that. In all my 40 years, I've never had any semblance of a mother.
While the dream wasn't awful, it wasn't real either.
Monday, August 3, 2015
Zoo Trip
We spent half our anniversary day walking through the Columbus zoo. It was a good time, because we made it so.
I've had a couple people ask me how the zoo compares to the KC zoo or others we've been to. Around here, Columbus seems to be the preferred zoo between it and Cincinnati.
It was ok. The layout was fine and it was clean. It had a couple problems. The biggest is that the staff fed the animals at 9 am on Saturday. So, we were there for an hour before we started seeing animals. It was hot and naturally, the animals were all hiding out in the shade. Maybe during cooler times of the year, it would be better. I'm not complaining, it was nice enough.
There was a huge difference between the KC zoo and Columbus. The number of animals. Nearly every zoo I've ever been to has more animals. To be fair, we did not walk through the Australian section. We also avoided all aviary areas. Other than that, we covered the entire zoo. The number of animals seemed extremely low.
This is probably my only criticism of the zoo. I love Jack Hannah. I think this zoo might put a little too much into promoting him than utilizing space for animals. Just personal opinion.
We both agreed that the Omaha zoo is by far the best we've been to. I can't think of an animal that isn't on display there in multiples. They have adequate space for the animals and its overall an awesome zoo. The aquarium in Omaha is phenomenal compared to all other zoo aquariums.
Going to the zoo, meant we walked nearly 6 miles Saturday. I still hurt. Keep in mind, a few weeks ago I couldn't have gone that far. However, I did and did it on four hours of sleep. I finally feel rested, but have minor injuries on both feet. I've aggravated a previous injury and have a pulled muscle in the other.
I'm ready to go again. Maybe to the Cincinnati zoo. It was fun to go and have energy and be out.
Maybe this fall, we will head up to the zoo again.
I've had a couple people ask me how the zoo compares to the KC zoo or others we've been to. Around here, Columbus seems to be the preferred zoo between it and Cincinnati.
It was ok. The layout was fine and it was clean. It had a couple problems. The biggest is that the staff fed the animals at 9 am on Saturday. So, we were there for an hour before we started seeing animals. It was hot and naturally, the animals were all hiding out in the shade. Maybe during cooler times of the year, it would be better. I'm not complaining, it was nice enough.
There was a huge difference between the KC zoo and Columbus. The number of animals. Nearly every zoo I've ever been to has more animals. To be fair, we did not walk through the Australian section. We also avoided all aviary areas. Other than that, we covered the entire zoo. The number of animals seemed extremely low.
This is probably my only criticism of the zoo. I love Jack Hannah. I think this zoo might put a little too much into promoting him than utilizing space for animals. Just personal opinion.
We both agreed that the Omaha zoo is by far the best we've been to. I can't think of an animal that isn't on display there in multiples. They have adequate space for the animals and its overall an awesome zoo. The aquarium in Omaha is phenomenal compared to all other zoo aquariums.
Going to the zoo, meant we walked nearly 6 miles Saturday. I still hurt. Keep in mind, a few weeks ago I couldn't have gone that far. However, I did and did it on four hours of sleep. I finally feel rested, but have minor injuries on both feet. I've aggravated a previous injury and have a pulled muscle in the other.
I'm ready to go again. Maybe to the Cincinnati zoo. It was fun to go and have energy and be out.
Maybe this fall, we will head up to the zoo again.
Sunday, August 2, 2015
Come As You Are
Have you ever heard that about church? Come as you are! Broken and bruised. Rips and tears. Come as you are.
That is how Jesus wants us to come to him. He doesn't want us prideful or pompous. He wants as we truly are. Scarred. Battered. Broken. Hurt. Angry. Emotionally. Physically. He wants us to come to him as real as we are.
Nothing else matters. Jesus already knows. We can put on a smile and pretty clothes. To the person sitting beside us, that might cover up all the mess. We can look good to everyone else, but Jesus still knows.
I have three primary churches where I've spent my Christian life. Two were very similar and one is different in many ways.
In my first two churches, I never felt it experienced that come as you are mentality. I'm not really talking about the emotional either. I'm very specifically thinking through the physical.
At both churches, most people wore their "Sunday best" to church. Women wore dresses and men wore at least business casual attire. In both churches, those serving communion often wore suit and tie.
Before I go further let me clarify. I don't think it's wrong. It seems appropriate to offer God your best. Can we honor God by dressing in our best?
Maybe.
But is it the most important thing? Is it really how he wants to be honored?
The reason it's such a big deal is because it's been a fight between my husband and I. He likes to be comfy. He will wear sweats to bible study and would to church if I didn't throw a fit.
Honestly, it wasn't that I wanted him to dress different to honor God. I wanted him to fit in and not stand out. I didn't want him to come as he is.
So here we are, sitting in rural Ohio. Our church here is completely different.
If you walked into our church today, you'd find a menagerie of people and dress. Some of the older ladies are dressed in skirts and dresses. But that's not the norm. There are no suits. The pastor is in jeans. Men serving communion are in tshirts and shorts and flip flops.
You'll find a lot of that. Tshirts. Shorts. You'd probably even find a couple stained shirts and ripped shorts. You'd find jeans and messy hair.
Please don't think I'm putting down or judging these people. I'm one of them.
This church truly gets the physical part of come as you are. The guy in the Harley shirt is absolutely equal to the older man in a tie. The young girl with her belly hanging out is treated no differently than the one in a nice dress.
As much as I love so many at both of my first two churches, I have to be honest. There would not be an equality there for these people. Their surface appearance would set them apart. I've seen it. It's painful, but I've seen it.
I've seen two godly people run off from a church because they weren't accepted. It's not that they were theologically different. It was because they ride bikes to church and chaps into the service. Sad but true. Nobody really got to know them. By actions, they were shunned. Nobody welcomed them.
Friends, that's not the way Jesus is and it's not how the church is supposed to be.
Has it been different for us and even an area where we had to adapt? Sure has!
The emotional come as you are is an even bigger animal to tackle. There's room for growth in every church for that. However, I have to give kudos to the church I'm in now. They are closer to getting this right than any we've seen.
I'm not at all bashing the churches we've come from. They are different and in different areas. There's no perfect church and each church is always growing and changing. Some churches are changing in bad ways so they can be redeemed.
The point is, it doesn't matter what we wear. Jesus still wants us to come to him. We don't need to be dressed up or perfect. He already knows what's under it all.
That is how Jesus wants us to come to him. He doesn't want us prideful or pompous. He wants as we truly are. Scarred. Battered. Broken. Hurt. Angry. Emotionally. Physically. He wants us to come to him as real as we are.
Nothing else matters. Jesus already knows. We can put on a smile and pretty clothes. To the person sitting beside us, that might cover up all the mess. We can look good to everyone else, but Jesus still knows.
I have three primary churches where I've spent my Christian life. Two were very similar and one is different in many ways.
In my first two churches, I never felt it experienced that come as you are mentality. I'm not really talking about the emotional either. I'm very specifically thinking through the physical.
At both churches, most people wore their "Sunday best" to church. Women wore dresses and men wore at least business casual attire. In both churches, those serving communion often wore suit and tie.
Before I go further let me clarify. I don't think it's wrong. It seems appropriate to offer God your best. Can we honor God by dressing in our best?
Maybe.
But is it the most important thing? Is it really how he wants to be honored?
The reason it's such a big deal is because it's been a fight between my husband and I. He likes to be comfy. He will wear sweats to bible study and would to church if I didn't throw a fit.
Honestly, it wasn't that I wanted him to dress different to honor God. I wanted him to fit in and not stand out. I didn't want him to come as he is.
So here we are, sitting in rural Ohio. Our church here is completely different.
If you walked into our church today, you'd find a menagerie of people and dress. Some of the older ladies are dressed in skirts and dresses. But that's not the norm. There are no suits. The pastor is in jeans. Men serving communion are in tshirts and shorts and flip flops.
You'll find a lot of that. Tshirts. Shorts. You'd probably even find a couple stained shirts and ripped shorts. You'd find jeans and messy hair.
Please don't think I'm putting down or judging these people. I'm one of them.
This church truly gets the physical part of come as you are. The guy in the Harley shirt is absolutely equal to the older man in a tie. The young girl with her belly hanging out is treated no differently than the one in a nice dress.
As much as I love so many at both of my first two churches, I have to be honest. There would not be an equality there for these people. Their surface appearance would set them apart. I've seen it. It's painful, but I've seen it.
I've seen two godly people run off from a church because they weren't accepted. It's not that they were theologically different. It was because they ride bikes to church and chaps into the service. Sad but true. Nobody really got to know them. By actions, they were shunned. Nobody welcomed them.
Friends, that's not the way Jesus is and it's not how the church is supposed to be.
Has it been different for us and even an area where we had to adapt? Sure has!
The emotional come as you are is an even bigger animal to tackle. There's room for growth in every church for that. However, I have to give kudos to the church I'm in now. They are closer to getting this right than any we've seen.
I'm not at all bashing the churches we've come from. They are different and in different areas. There's no perfect church and each church is always growing and changing. Some churches are changing in bad ways so they can be redeemed.
The point is, it doesn't matter what we wear. Jesus still wants us to come to him. We don't need to be dressed up or perfect. He already knows what's under it all.
Friday, July 31, 2015
Tough Road
This is the third good week in a row. I've felt encouraged and like I belong. It's not been without anxiety. I'm still waiting for something bad to happen. But I genuinely feel good physically and emotionally.
I've consistently gotten up at 5:30 am and walked. I've increased my distance a little at a time. I've added in extra exercise during the day. I've diligently watched what I've eaten and stayed mindful of fat and calories. My clothes are fitting better and I had a 12 lb weight loss the first two weeks.
But, I screwed up. I thought I'd move my weigh in and measurement day to Friday. I'd eaten and been on my feet for hours cleaning. It was afternoon and not early morning.
I was so discouraged by what I found. I sat and cried. I've worked so hard and the scale hadn't moved and my measurements were up an inch in one area and the same in another. Even though everything was different, I thought something would have changed. I've never put in a week like this one.
Obviously, I know that it's not going to be easy. The weight isn't going to melt off. I know that 12 lbs in two weeks is probably a huge jump start, but it'll slow down.
Even though I'm discouraged, I'm not giving up. I'm determined. I'm not going to bury myself in a cupcake or ice cream. I also know this is our anniversary weekend and I'm going to eat. I'm not going to skip celebrating.
So onto next week I go. A little down, but not out.
I've consistently gotten up at 5:30 am and walked. I've increased my distance a little at a time. I've added in extra exercise during the day. I've diligently watched what I've eaten and stayed mindful of fat and calories. My clothes are fitting better and I had a 12 lb weight loss the first two weeks.
But, I screwed up. I thought I'd move my weigh in and measurement day to Friday. I'd eaten and been on my feet for hours cleaning. It was afternoon and not early morning.
I was so discouraged by what I found. I sat and cried. I've worked so hard and the scale hadn't moved and my measurements were up an inch in one area and the same in another. Even though everything was different, I thought something would have changed. I've never put in a week like this one.
Obviously, I know that it's not going to be easy. The weight isn't going to melt off. I know that 12 lbs in two weeks is probably a huge jump start, but it'll slow down.
Even though I'm discouraged, I'm not giving up. I'm determined. I'm not going to bury myself in a cupcake or ice cream. I also know this is our anniversary weekend and I'm going to eat. I'm not going to skip celebrating.
So onto next week I go. A little down, but not out.
Monday, July 27, 2015
Two Weeks
Two weeks ago I started to get serious about this health thing. One thing is certain, it's hard!
My goal is to exercise five days a week. I did so so my first week and totally exceeded that my second. Primarily, I'm walking at 6 am. Getting up at 5:30 am is getting easier, but I never really want to. When I don't get up that early, I have been diligent to get some exercise in that is equivalent. Today it was raining, so I hit the stationary bike. Over the weekend, I found myself wanting to exercise. By Sunday, my lower back and hip hurt. I did twist my hip out, but I know my body was telling me it needed exercise.
I have a daily goal of staying under 1490 calories. That's not a lot! But given all the numbers, that's what it'll take to lose 2 lbs a week and stay at a healthy pace. When I exercise, I get calories added back in and is a definite motivator to meet me exercise goals. So far, I've only had one day when I surpassed my calories. Most days, I fall 60-200 below. Last week, I had one day when my app let me know I needed to eat more because I was 700 calories under my goal.
My super sweet husband is reaping the benefits of a healthier lifestyle for me. He gets fed healthier. He is on some of the same supplements I am and seeing progress. He's getting a little more exercise with my encouragement. To help with the process, he ordered me a Fitbit. We have Bowflex bands. They count steps and calories. However, I wanted something that tracked more. This Fitbit will do that and track sleep. The app will allow me to add calorie info too. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm excited for it to come.
I do feel better already. I'm not as tired all the time. I still have some fatigue because of my sleep patterns. Although, I'm starting to have more nights where I get 5 hours of decent sleep in a row. I also get a good 90 minute nap in after my exercise each day. That helps give me the extra rest I need to make it through the day. It'll be better if I can get 7-8 hours straight each night. It's what I need to not have periods of dragging during the afternoon.
I am more active. I am getting more stuff done around the house each day. Not that our house is ever dirty really. But I have more energy to do things like deep clean more often. I also don't run out of breath walking to the mailbox. I walked the long drive twice in the rain with no problems.
Of course I am tracking all the stats too. They are a motivator and an indicator. In 2 weeks, I've lost 12 lbs. Here are the rest for two weeks:
Hips -1"
Waist -2.5"
Chest -1.5"
Shoulders -3"
Thigh -1"
Arm -2"
I'm happy with that. My hips and waist are the hardest places for me to lose inches. I can also tell that I'm building muscle in my legs.
I'm definitely shaped different today, than I was 17 years ago. However, I weigh 8 lbs less today than I did at our wedding 17 years ago. Since our anniversary isn't until Saturday, I'm hoping that'll be at least 10.
Even with the progress, it's still hard. I'm not craving sweets, but my natural default is to bake brownies and snack all day long. There are times I still snack. Sometimes it's healthy and other times not. But I'm more aware of how unhealthy choices alter how I can eat for the day.
Hopefully I can give another update in two weeks with even more progress.
Friday, July 24, 2015
A Flaw in My Worship
This week has been good. I've continued my baby steps to a healthier me. I've felt encouraged and loved. I was invited to a girls night. Not to get all weird, but I was giddy!
I've stayed busy. I started the week dead tired and almost worried something was wrong. Remember, I get anxious waiting for the next bad thing to happen when things are good. But after that, I got energy back and have been busy.
Yesterday, I baked my second batch of 20+ dozen cookies for church. While I was baking away, I had The Message playing on Dish, a Sirius music channel. I sang along and worshipped as I baked.
About six pans in, I realized there was a definite flaw in how I've been feeling. Don't get me wrong, being content and happy is a good place to be. It's ok. It's meaningful and right to praise God when things are going well.
But here's the flaw. I've been happier with God the past two weeks, because I've been happier with people. As I've struggled the past year to develop relationships and haven't felt like I belong, I've had a hard time praising God.
My love of God, my worship, shouldn't be affected by my personal relationships.
In fact, I should have praised Him all along for always being there when I felt alone. It's great that it's so easy to praise and worship right now, but it always needs to be that way.
I know, it's a classic lesson in praising God in the good and bad. However, it's good and healthy for me to recognize how I correlate how I feel about people and relationships to how I feel about God. It helps me understand why it's easy to skip church when I'm unhappy or lonely. Why my bible gathers dust when loneliness brings depression. It gives me an opportunity to change what I hold onto next time this happens.
I've stayed busy. I started the week dead tired and almost worried something was wrong. Remember, I get anxious waiting for the next bad thing to happen when things are good. But after that, I got energy back and have been busy.
Yesterday, I baked my second batch of 20+ dozen cookies for church. While I was baking away, I had The Message playing on Dish, a Sirius music channel. I sang along and worshipped as I baked.
About six pans in, I realized there was a definite flaw in how I've been feeling. Don't get me wrong, being content and happy is a good place to be. It's ok. It's meaningful and right to praise God when things are going well.
But here's the flaw. I've been happier with God the past two weeks, because I've been happier with people. As I've struggled the past year to develop relationships and haven't felt like I belong, I've had a hard time praising God.
My love of God, my worship, shouldn't be affected by my personal relationships.
In fact, I should have praised Him all along for always being there when I felt alone. It's great that it's so easy to praise and worship right now, but it always needs to be that way.
I know, it's a classic lesson in praising God in the good and bad. However, it's good and healthy for me to recognize how I correlate how I feel about people and relationships to how I feel about God. It helps me understand why it's easy to skip church when I'm unhappy or lonely. Why my bible gathers dust when loneliness brings depression. It gives me an opportunity to change what I hold onto next time this happens.
Sunday, July 19, 2015
Happy Sunday
Ok, so it's not completely happy. All the things I've said before are still present. Sunday's are still hard days when the sadness peaks.
However, I have to acknowledge that this week was a better week. Several things have been different.
This is the first week in a long time that I've felt like I could stay here several years and be happy. That's a huge change and while it might be a fleeting thought, I'm happy to hang onto it for now.
This week, I found encouragement and friendship within a small, but oh so valuable and precious group of ladies.
There has been sunshine. I saw the sunrise and the sun was out more than not. We had some nasty storms, but they went away.
I spent time serving the church and the community. That's so important to me and gave me purpose. It was incredible to feel included in something.
Through social media, I've been reminded of how much better I feel this year. Last year at this time, I was in sweats and napping everyday with layers of blankets on 80 degree days. I'm happy that 85 degrees feels miserable to me this year.
While not gone, I've finally had multiple days in a row without major pain and spasms in my face, leftover from the BP.
My husband is feeling better. He believes his back is now 60-70% better. It's such a weight off our shoulders to have him starting to feel better.
I know there are people who pray for me. But this week, I have no doubt that there were people praying for me. A completely different week doesn't just happen without it. I'm thankful.
This is the first week in a long time that I'm looking forward to the week ahead. It's not that it's filled with plans. I have none. But I'm hopeful that some of the positivity from last week will carry over.
However, I have to acknowledge that this week was a better week. Several things have been different.
This is the first week in a long time that I've felt like I could stay here several years and be happy. That's a huge change and while it might be a fleeting thought, I'm happy to hang onto it for now.
This week, I found encouragement and friendship within a small, but oh so valuable and precious group of ladies.
There has been sunshine. I saw the sunrise and the sun was out more than not. We had some nasty storms, but they went away.
I spent time serving the church and the community. That's so important to me and gave me purpose. It was incredible to feel included in something.
Through social media, I've been reminded of how much better I feel this year. Last year at this time, I was in sweats and napping everyday with layers of blankets on 80 degree days. I'm happy that 85 degrees feels miserable to me this year.
While not gone, I've finally had multiple days in a row without major pain and spasms in my face, leftover from the BP.
My husband is feeling better. He believes his back is now 60-70% better. It's such a weight off our shoulders to have him starting to feel better.
I know there are people who pray for me. But this week, I have no doubt that there were people praying for me. A completely different week doesn't just happen without it. I'm thankful.
This is the first week in a long time that I'm looking forward to the week ahead. It's not that it's filled with plans. I have none. But I'm hopeful that some of the positivity from last week will carry over.
Thursday, July 16, 2015
Healthy Belly
Inadvertently, I started this journey into a healthier me a few months ago. It wasn't really planned, but a necessity.
Two years ago, I finally started to get serious about taking care of my stomach problems. I had chronic issues. I had severe heart burn, cramping after eating and terrible pain. My dairy intolerance worsened to the point of having to go dairy free. Dairy had started to do more than cause gas and bloating. It sent me to the floor writhing in pain, followed by days to weeks of trying to get my digestive system back on track and even joint pain.
I went to the doctor. They ordered tests and put me on meds. The tests found nothing. The meds weren't enough. So, the doctor increased meds. She had me on a combo of three daily double (prescription) doses of Pepcid and Nexium. Even with that, if I missed doses, I was miserable.
The meds helped the heartburn, but the stomach issues and pain continued.
Late last year, my stomach issues again peaked and sent me to the emergency room. I couldn't keep a lot down and specific foods sent me to the floor in pain. I had a textbook case of having a bad gallbladder. Again, I had every scan and ultrasound possible. The best they could tell me was that I had possibly passed gallstones, but they were no showing as stuck in any bile duct or liver.
The major pain and vomiting subsided, but the stomach pain didn't.
I'd tried probiotics on suggestion from friends. There were so many, I went through one brand and kind after another and nothing seemed to work.
A few months ago, I saw one of my Ohio friends fb post about a probiotic. She listed some of the things I had experienced. She had IBS, which was one of the things the doctors had suggested. Since they weren't sure, they suggested that, ulcer or possibly diverticulitis. At any rate, there were no answers, but the pain made me desperate.
When my friend posted, I researched the product. It was part of a product line sold in up lines. To simplify what I'm saying, it looked to be a typical pyramid scheme. While the product looked good, I was skeptical of the sales method. Leery to say the least. I'm not a product pusher and those things would never work for me. I stay clear.
With hesitation, I bought the product. After a month, I could tell that my digestive system was changing. Still lots of pain, gas and bloating, but other things were better.
I was patient and stayed on the probiotic. Here I am at thee months continuous use and I feel like a new person. Ok, maybe just a person with a new stomach.
For starters, I am now on only one single dose, OTC heartburn med. I try to take it daily, but don't have a problem with heartburn unless I go 3-4 days without it. That's huge!
I definitely have far fewer problems with gas and bloating. Probably the biggest change is pain. I can go weeks without stomach cramps or pain. When I do get pain, it's minimal and doesn't last. I can usually associate it with something I've eaten or lack of fruits and veggies.
There are times I can tolerate tiny bits of dairy. I'm not jumping back into that, but it's good to know my tolerance is better.
I know. It probably seems like this is a small thing, just like walking a half mile. But it too is huge. When you don't feel good, you aren't motivated to do anything or take care of yourself. This too is a step in the right direction.
Two years ago, I finally started to get serious about taking care of my stomach problems. I had chronic issues. I had severe heart burn, cramping after eating and terrible pain. My dairy intolerance worsened to the point of having to go dairy free. Dairy had started to do more than cause gas and bloating. It sent me to the floor writhing in pain, followed by days to weeks of trying to get my digestive system back on track and even joint pain.
I went to the doctor. They ordered tests and put me on meds. The tests found nothing. The meds weren't enough. So, the doctor increased meds. She had me on a combo of three daily double (prescription) doses of Pepcid and Nexium. Even with that, if I missed doses, I was miserable.
The meds helped the heartburn, but the stomach issues and pain continued.
Late last year, my stomach issues again peaked and sent me to the emergency room. I couldn't keep a lot down and specific foods sent me to the floor in pain. I had a textbook case of having a bad gallbladder. Again, I had every scan and ultrasound possible. The best they could tell me was that I had possibly passed gallstones, but they were no showing as stuck in any bile duct or liver.
The major pain and vomiting subsided, but the stomach pain didn't.
I'd tried probiotics on suggestion from friends. There were so many, I went through one brand and kind after another and nothing seemed to work.
A few months ago, I saw one of my Ohio friends fb post about a probiotic. She listed some of the things I had experienced. She had IBS, which was one of the things the doctors had suggested. Since they weren't sure, they suggested that, ulcer or possibly diverticulitis. At any rate, there were no answers, but the pain made me desperate.
When my friend posted, I researched the product. It was part of a product line sold in up lines. To simplify what I'm saying, it looked to be a typical pyramid scheme. While the product looked good, I was skeptical of the sales method. Leery to say the least. I'm not a product pusher and those things would never work for me. I stay clear.
With hesitation, I bought the product. After a month, I could tell that my digestive system was changing. Still lots of pain, gas and bloating, but other things were better.
I was patient and stayed on the probiotic. Here I am at thee months continuous use and I feel like a new person. Ok, maybe just a person with a new stomach.
For starters, I am now on only one single dose, OTC heartburn med. I try to take it daily, but don't have a problem with heartburn unless I go 3-4 days without it. That's huge!
I definitely have far fewer problems with gas and bloating. Probably the biggest change is pain. I can go weeks without stomach cramps or pain. When I do get pain, it's minimal and doesn't last. I can usually associate it with something I've eaten or lack of fruits and veggies.
There are times I can tolerate tiny bits of dairy. I'm not jumping back into that, but it's good to know my tolerance is better.
I know. It probably seems like this is a small thing, just like walking a half mile. But it too is huge. When you don't feel good, you aren't motivated to do anything or take care of yourself. This too is a step in the right direction.
Wednesday, July 15, 2015
Baby Steps
Today, I started a new baby step in this journey to be healthier. I got up at 5:30, drive 15 minutes and walked a half mile.
To most, that probably sounds like no big deal. Nothing to be excited about. But it is for me.
You know what I'm usually doing at 5:30 am? I'm getting ready to go back to sleep because I've been awake since 3 am. I stay awake until my husband wakes up, talk to him a few minutes and go back to sleep till 8:30.
Getting up by alarm taps into some of my anxiety. It's not terrible, but I don't sleep well. I'm awake every 30 minutes, fearful I'm going to oversleep. Then when I am trying to go back to sleep, the amount of time I have left to sleep is on my mind. A routine would help that.
It takes me all of five minutes to get ready when there's no shower, no make up and only a ponytail involved. Not that it takes me long to get ready anyway.
In the past several years, I've only been on the roads before sunrise a couple of times that weren't for travel. There's a lot of life going on at 5:45 am. There were runners, walkers, deer and other wildlife meandering about.
Besides a few words with my husband in the morning, I don't usually talk to anyone until 5 pm. It was completely different to talk to other people before the sun came up. Not just talk, but be encouraged. The ladies were there for the same reason as me, but they had such a huge part in starting my day off completely different. Positive and encouraging.
I didn't walk that far. It was .62 miles to be exact. I'm happy with that. I have to start somewhere. Not to make excuses, but I had two things working against me. One is a broken toe. It happened a month ago, but is still swollen and gets painful. The other is that I'm completely out of shape. Before I got sick last year, I was walking up to two miles a day. Once I recovered, it was winter and I went straight into Bells Palsy, which brought on periods of terrible vertigo. I'm thankful to be on the other side of most of that.
I'm hoping to double my distance tomorrow and continue to make increases.
Of course I feel like a nap is going to be necessary. Not because of the little walk, but because I barely slept 4 hours. But this day has been good. It started well and I feel good about that.
To most, that probably sounds like no big deal. Nothing to be excited about. But it is for me.
You know what I'm usually doing at 5:30 am? I'm getting ready to go back to sleep because I've been awake since 3 am. I stay awake until my husband wakes up, talk to him a few minutes and go back to sleep till 8:30.
Getting up by alarm taps into some of my anxiety. It's not terrible, but I don't sleep well. I'm awake every 30 minutes, fearful I'm going to oversleep. Then when I am trying to go back to sleep, the amount of time I have left to sleep is on my mind. A routine would help that.
It takes me all of five minutes to get ready when there's no shower, no make up and only a ponytail involved. Not that it takes me long to get ready anyway.
In the past several years, I've only been on the roads before sunrise a couple of times that weren't for travel. There's a lot of life going on at 5:45 am. There were runners, walkers, deer and other wildlife meandering about.
Besides a few words with my husband in the morning, I don't usually talk to anyone until 5 pm. It was completely different to talk to other people before the sun came up. Not just talk, but be encouraged. The ladies were there for the same reason as me, but they had such a huge part in starting my day off completely different. Positive and encouraging.
I didn't walk that far. It was .62 miles to be exact. I'm happy with that. I have to start somewhere. Not to make excuses, but I had two things working against me. One is a broken toe. It happened a month ago, but is still swollen and gets painful. The other is that I'm completely out of shape. Before I got sick last year, I was walking up to two miles a day. Once I recovered, it was winter and I went straight into Bells Palsy, which brought on periods of terrible vertigo. I'm thankful to be on the other side of most of that.
I'm hoping to double my distance tomorrow and continue to make increases.
Of course I feel like a nap is going to be necessary. Not because of the little walk, but because I barely slept 4 hours. But this day has been good. It started well and I feel good about that.
Tuesday, July 14, 2015
New Mercies Everyday
Last night, I went to bed feeling beat up both physically and emotionally. It was a culmination of several weeks in semi high emotion sitting right in my shoulders. I ached from scrubbing showers and floors. My feet and hands were still tight and sore when I woke up.
As I laid in bed, I had no desire or reason to get up. My allergies are kicking my tail and I was content to lay there stuffy and sore.
Then my phone wrang. It never rings. Nobody ever calls. Once in a while my husband calls or there is a church announcement. The young man next door needed a ride to work.
Our neighbors are great and they've helped us out so much. They've saved us so many times by helping out. Moving where you know nobody makes neighbors like this a gift. So, it was absolutely my pleasure to get up and take him. It's rare that we are able to ever repay the favors.
After the puppy and I dropped him off, I drove through the coffee shop and grabbed a latte. Score for me! Since the coffee shop is at the opposit end of town from where I usually go, I hadn't been in a long while. It was a treat indeed. A decaf banana split latte was definitely what I needed.
On the way home, I turned the radio on. For some reason the reception for KLove here has died. So, I was listening to Air1. I never listen to that station. Sadly, I rarely pay much attention to the people who call in with testimonies either.
Don't get me wrong, I love testimonies. They are just more powerful to me when the person is in front of me or someone I know.
Today must have been the exception to that.
The man was talking about how he never felt at home in his new wife's house with his step children. He felt like he didn't belong. So much so that he was planning to leave. Leave the home and walk away from his marriage. He said that God laid a message on his heart. Wherever I am and wherever you are is home.
I stopped listening at that point, but I'm sure he stayed.
My mind went to how I've been feeling lately. I've been praying God's will for our lives, but also that this would become home.
I'm not sure that the message today makes that clear. However, that was true. It doesn't matter where we live. We have God and have each other. Anyplace where we have those two things are and will always be home.
As I laid in bed, I had no desire or reason to get up. My allergies are kicking my tail and I was content to lay there stuffy and sore.
Then my phone wrang. It never rings. Nobody ever calls. Once in a while my husband calls or there is a church announcement. The young man next door needed a ride to work.
Our neighbors are great and they've helped us out so much. They've saved us so many times by helping out. Moving where you know nobody makes neighbors like this a gift. So, it was absolutely my pleasure to get up and take him. It's rare that we are able to ever repay the favors.
After the puppy and I dropped him off, I drove through the coffee shop and grabbed a latte. Score for me! Since the coffee shop is at the opposit end of town from where I usually go, I hadn't been in a long while. It was a treat indeed. A decaf banana split latte was definitely what I needed.
On the way home, I turned the radio on. For some reason the reception for KLove here has died. So, I was listening to Air1. I never listen to that station. Sadly, I rarely pay much attention to the people who call in with testimonies either.
Don't get me wrong, I love testimonies. They are just more powerful to me when the person is in front of me or someone I know.
Today must have been the exception to that.
The man was talking about how he never felt at home in his new wife's house with his step children. He felt like he didn't belong. So much so that he was planning to leave. Leave the home and walk away from his marriage. He said that God laid a message on his heart. Wherever I am and wherever you are is home.
I stopped listening at that point, but I'm sure he stayed.
My mind went to how I've been feeling lately. I've been praying God's will for our lives, but also that this would become home.
I'm not sure that the message today makes that clear. However, that was true. It doesn't matter where we live. We have God and have each other. Anyplace where we have those two things are and will always be home.
Monday, July 13, 2015
Dumpy and Frumpy
While dropping my 5 month old puppy off for his first real grooming, I burst into tears. That's not something common as of late. As down as I have gotten, tears haven't been a common part of that.
I suppose dropping him off with strangers was stressful and emotional enough for tears. Dropping any of the dogs off is hard for me. We've had such terrible experiences. One dog had her nipples shaved off. Another was cut and got a nasty infection. We've found groomers that have no business being in the trade. These dogs are an extension of our family. They are like children for us. We are protective and don't want anyone hurting them.
That's enough to make me nervous and a bit emotional, but that wasn't the core reason for tears.
I could use the excuse that it's just been a rough morning. It would be understandable. My husband had to make an emergency trip home today because the toilets went dry and the shower/bathtub had a back up. Our septic system had clogged and he had to fix it before we could use water for anything again. I was in the middle of a shower and washing bedding. Our puppy peed on the bed this morning.
Said puppy is also in the midst of the difficult stage of potty training. He wants to play and not tend to business. He also refuses to walk in wet grass. That's a problem since it's rained most of the past month.
It's fair to say that this morning was stressful. Probably not so much that it would leave me in tears.
Maybe I could blame it on being homesick and lonely or maybe a combo of all of the above. But I
still don't think that's it.
There's a reason and it's been eating at me a while.
Yesterday, I saw a profile view of myself in the mirror and it confirmed what I've been feeling. I'm hideous. I don't get much into what people think of how I look or what I wear. But it's been an issue for me and probably since I turned 40.
What I'm feeling has more to do with health than anything. I'm unhealthy. I'm obese. I don't have a lot of major health issues like you might think. My size hasn't yet pushed me into high blood pressure or diabetes or other problems. However, the reality is that my size puts me at an increased risk as I age. I know that and I'm not in denial about it.
For the longest time, I never cared how long I lived because I didn't have children to live for. Now, the older we get the more we plan for the future and talk about what we really want. I think about the fact that our older dogs still have 8-10 years left and our puppy has lots of years left. I want to be around for all of that.
Last week, I ran 20 feet and felt like I was going to die. I want to run and I'm so far from that.
When I got sick last year, I dropped a lot of weight fast. I've put back on 15 lbs of that. Not a lot, but enough to make those smaller clothes too small. Today, I weighed and took measurements of my body. It was disgusting. I obviously have a long way to go.
I don't even know where to start. It's like having a filthy house and it's so overwhelming that you have no idea where to start. I know I can't do it alone. I don't have that kind of will power and motivation. There are so many programs and products. I have no clue how to choose.
I know this is what's really bugging me and making me teary. Just thinking through this little bit brings me to tears.
There are baby steps, things I'm doing to change my life. It's slow and I'm not sure what will work and what will fail. I'm not sure if I will fail. I know that it has to start somewhere and definitely today.
Sunday, July 12, 2015
Homesick
There must be some unwritten rule that the second year in a new place is the homesick year.
Most days, I'm on the verge of being homesick and Sunday is the culmination of all those emotions.
Don't get me wrong. I love so much about here. It's beautiful. I love our home. I've learned a lot and my faith has grown. Moving was probably exactly what I needed and exactly when I needed it.
Also, don't be confused. Home is KC. I lived in southeast Kansas for 23 years and KC 16 years. My original home was a living hell and I'll always consider KC home.
Sunday is the day when I'm most reminded of how much I miss. It's the day my lack of human interaction is right in my face.
I'm not saying that the church we left was perfect, far from it. But, I knew it was where I belonged. In the six or so months we were there, there was never doubt for either of us that we belonged there.
Maybe not at first, but by the end, I was surrounded by old and new friends. My Sunday mornings were filled with meaningful conversation, handshakes from a multitude of people, and hugs that were so filled with love that they carried me through the week.
That kind of love and affection is important to me. With no family, it's important to feel that kind of deep love. That kind of love is needed.
I miss that. How could I not? A year here and I'm not the least bit close to having what I had when we left.
It's not all about church, please don't think that.
Before we left, I had lots of people active in my life. Text, calls, time spent with people. It was rare for me to go a week without seeing at least one friend and usually more. I spent time with them and that usually ended in meaningful, heart-felt hugs. In times of crisis or emotion, the hugs were even more powerful and needed.
I miss that.
There's no doubt in my mind that the Lord has made no mistake in bringing us here. But now, he's allowing my heart to constantly long for home.
We still do not have a plan and contractually have 10 months left here. We are praying for God to make it clear if we are to stay or go. As homesick as I am, I don't yet feel called to move back to KC. I don't think my husband does either.
Clearly, I know the Lord knows what I need more than I do. I know that if His plan is for my perceived social needs are to be met, then they will be.
There's absolutely no offense meant by this. I love that this community is tight knit. I love to see how they love each other and do life together. It makes this place so attractive when it doesn't have a lot more to offer. For whatever reason, we don't seem to fit. We want to, but we don't seem to.
The experience has given me so much education in moving. It's made me understand the importance of researching and spending time in the community before making a home choice. It's placed so much importance on taking the time to find the right church after a move.
If we move, I'd certainly look at a small community like this one again. Even if we were to move back to KC, I'd definitely consider a smaller town than we moved from.
I'm not sure what the future holds. But today, I hang onto fond memories and long for a place where I don't feel so alone and feel the love of friends.
Most days, I'm on the verge of being homesick and Sunday is the culmination of all those emotions.
Don't get me wrong. I love so much about here. It's beautiful. I love our home. I've learned a lot and my faith has grown. Moving was probably exactly what I needed and exactly when I needed it.
Also, don't be confused. Home is KC. I lived in southeast Kansas for 23 years and KC 16 years. My original home was a living hell and I'll always consider KC home.
Sunday is the day when I'm most reminded of how much I miss. It's the day my lack of human interaction is right in my face.
I'm not saying that the church we left was perfect, far from it. But, I knew it was where I belonged. In the six or so months we were there, there was never doubt for either of us that we belonged there.
Maybe not at first, but by the end, I was surrounded by old and new friends. My Sunday mornings were filled with meaningful conversation, handshakes from a multitude of people, and hugs that were so filled with love that they carried me through the week.
That kind of love and affection is important to me. With no family, it's important to feel that kind of deep love. That kind of love is needed.
I miss that. How could I not? A year here and I'm not the least bit close to having what I had when we left.
It's not all about church, please don't think that.
Before we left, I had lots of people active in my life. Text, calls, time spent with people. It was rare for me to go a week without seeing at least one friend and usually more. I spent time with them and that usually ended in meaningful, heart-felt hugs. In times of crisis or emotion, the hugs were even more powerful and needed.
I miss that.
There's no doubt in my mind that the Lord has made no mistake in bringing us here. But now, he's allowing my heart to constantly long for home.
We still do not have a plan and contractually have 10 months left here. We are praying for God to make it clear if we are to stay or go. As homesick as I am, I don't yet feel called to move back to KC. I don't think my husband does either.
Clearly, I know the Lord knows what I need more than I do. I know that if His plan is for my perceived social needs are to be met, then they will be.
There's absolutely no offense meant by this. I love that this community is tight knit. I love to see how they love each other and do life together. It makes this place so attractive when it doesn't have a lot more to offer. For whatever reason, we don't seem to fit. We want to, but we don't seem to.
The experience has given me so much education in moving. It's made me understand the importance of researching and spending time in the community before making a home choice. It's placed so much importance on taking the time to find the right church after a move.
If we move, I'd certainly look at a small community like this one again. Even if we were to move back to KC, I'd definitely consider a smaller town than we moved from.
I'm not sure what the future holds. But today, I hang onto fond memories and long for a place where I don't feel so alone and feel the love of friends.
Tuesday, July 7, 2015
Summer Fears
This morning I found myself cleaning out the garden. Pulling up bean plants and weeds. I'm not making room for more or easier access to tomatoes. After I was about done, I realized it was because of fear.
By this time last year, I was sick. Starting at the 4th, I was cold all the time and knew something wasn't right. I started sleeping all the time and had no energy. It probably started in June, but I had enough company that I powered through it.
There's no logical reason to believe this year will be the same. In fact, I feel great. I still have residual problems from my the Bell's palsy. Parts of my face occasionally feel like it's tingling and only on the side of the BP. Evidently it's normal long term effects because the nerve endings may have fractured and rebuild themselves. It takes a while for them to retrain. It's also a residual effect of the virus having been active in my face. Besides that, allergies are my only problems.
I think there are a few things making me fearful this year.
Things have not gone easily for us since moving. We've come to expect bad things. Just last week, we had to replace another appliance. So much good has happened and the bad has never destroyed us. But we are both a little expectant of bad things at this point. We don't trust that something bad isn't lurking around the next corner.
We've both had bizarre health issues since being here. We rarely went to the doctor before moving and were pretty healthy and physically stable. I've had a surgery and been to the ER three times. My husband has been to a handful of specialists, had multiple procedures and is having another this week. That is probably comparable to the first 15 years of marriage.
Part of my strength and security comes from my husband. But his injuries and health issues have worn him down. It's tapped into his securities about aging. That's been hard to see and has shaken me a bit.
Last year, the garden went crazy with weeds and things stopped producing way early. The house was never clean and the laundry never finished. I suppose it's ok to stay on top of all of that. My goal should be to do so out of mindset of seeing progress and not of fear.
By this time last year, I was sick. Starting at the 4th, I was cold all the time and knew something wasn't right. I started sleeping all the time and had no energy. It probably started in June, but I had enough company that I powered through it.
There's no logical reason to believe this year will be the same. In fact, I feel great. I still have residual problems from my the Bell's palsy. Parts of my face occasionally feel like it's tingling and only on the side of the BP. Evidently it's normal long term effects because the nerve endings may have fractured and rebuild themselves. It takes a while for them to retrain. It's also a residual effect of the virus having been active in my face. Besides that, allergies are my only problems.
I think there are a few things making me fearful this year.
Things have not gone easily for us since moving. We've come to expect bad things. Just last week, we had to replace another appliance. So much good has happened and the bad has never destroyed us. But we are both a little expectant of bad things at this point. We don't trust that something bad isn't lurking around the next corner.
We've both had bizarre health issues since being here. We rarely went to the doctor before moving and were pretty healthy and physically stable. I've had a surgery and been to the ER three times. My husband has been to a handful of specialists, had multiple procedures and is having another this week. That is probably comparable to the first 15 years of marriage.
Part of my strength and security comes from my husband. But his injuries and health issues have worn him down. It's tapped into his securities about aging. That's been hard to see and has shaken me a bit.
Last year, the garden went crazy with weeds and things stopped producing way early. The house was never clean and the laundry never finished. I suppose it's ok to stay on top of all of that. My goal should be to do so out of mindset of seeing progress and not of fear.
Monday, July 6, 2015
My PTSD
Last week, I saw the picture floating around social media which shows a veteran and a sign asking people to be thoughtful of them during fireworks. A local TV station posted asking viewers what they thought.
The sign doesn't make demands and is meant to give neighbors a sign that fireworks late into the night or in illegal areas may trigger those with PTSD.
My comment was that people other than veterans have PTSD and can also be triggered. A man asked me to explain. Typically, I'm happy to explain PTSD that comes out of trauma. The world has a better understanding of why soldiers come home from war with it, but few understand how those with trauma are effected.
I explained as simply as I could to answer his question. I said that those with trauma induced PTSD often come from a place of chaos and loud noises can trigger. On a personal level, unexpected loud noises are a trigger for me because I've been shot at multiple times.
That is what was said, no more and no less.
The man and two others completely attacked me. I was told that I was fishing for attention, stupid, needed to grow and deal with my problems like an adult. I was accused of wanting everyone to lose their rights because I was fucked up. Exact words.
Wow!
Not only did I hit the jackpot of ignorance, they lashed out for absolutely no reason.
My original comment was to enlighten people that there are others effected by PTSD. I never said I didn't celebrate the 4th or that I didn't enjoy fireworks.
I did respond, but later deleted the entire thread. I couldn't stand the thought that someone struggling with their PTSD seeing such hate and ignorance.
Here's the truth about the entire thread.
There are very few people who know me well enough or have seen me triggered and only those people have any right to make any comment to me about my PTSD.
Beyond that, I don't use my PTSD for attention nor a crutch. Most people wouldn't know I have it. There are times I tell people because there's a reason they will need to know. I'm open here, but try to keep it to myself. My husband knows when I'm triggered, but most people wouldn't know. PTSD is one of the reasons I don't work.
There are days when I can't function. Those are less common living here, but still happen. PTSD is the reason I am terrified to be with strangers or people I don't trust. Those things make it nearly impossible to walk into a new place for eight hours a day. The thought sends me into a panic.
Even with that being the case, I don't often share that. I just tell people that I don't work without any reason.
I absolutely love the 4th. I'd never want to hamper anyone's fun. We go to displays every year and enjoy them. But here's the thing, I know what to expect. I know there are going to be loud noises. I don't get triggered when it's not surprising.
When people shoot off fireworks or even guns near our house, I do get triggered. Fireworks done by individuals in Ohio is illegal. Even with that, I'd still expect them on the 4th. When neighbors shoot them off in June, I'm triggered. It's unexpected. I'd still never say anything. I'd deal with it and life would go on.
In case you were wondering or still holding out on believing that PTSD is real, it is. I'm kind of beside myself that adults are so insensitive and ignorant to think it's not.
Nobody, and I repeat...NOBODY wants PTSD. Many people live with it without knowing there is a name for the thing that incapacitates them. I suppose that there are people who use it as a crutch. People who desire health do not! People who want to be healthier aren't going to use it as an excuse. They are going to count their progress and be ashamed of their setbacks.
I'm sad that anyone would attack or bully someone who has already been traumatized. It makes me sick really. That does absolutely nothing to encourage people to get help or be honest about their mental health.
If you don't understand a mental issue or even have an opposing view, I encourage you to ask questions but keep negativity to yourself.
The sign doesn't make demands and is meant to give neighbors a sign that fireworks late into the night or in illegal areas may trigger those with PTSD.
My comment was that people other than veterans have PTSD and can also be triggered. A man asked me to explain. Typically, I'm happy to explain PTSD that comes out of trauma. The world has a better understanding of why soldiers come home from war with it, but few understand how those with trauma are effected.
I explained as simply as I could to answer his question. I said that those with trauma induced PTSD often come from a place of chaos and loud noises can trigger. On a personal level, unexpected loud noises are a trigger for me because I've been shot at multiple times.
That is what was said, no more and no less.
The man and two others completely attacked me. I was told that I was fishing for attention, stupid, needed to grow and deal with my problems like an adult. I was accused of wanting everyone to lose their rights because I was fucked up. Exact words.
Wow!
Not only did I hit the jackpot of ignorance, they lashed out for absolutely no reason.
My original comment was to enlighten people that there are others effected by PTSD. I never said I didn't celebrate the 4th or that I didn't enjoy fireworks.
I did respond, but later deleted the entire thread. I couldn't stand the thought that someone struggling with their PTSD seeing such hate and ignorance.
Here's the truth about the entire thread.
There are very few people who know me well enough or have seen me triggered and only those people have any right to make any comment to me about my PTSD.
Beyond that, I don't use my PTSD for attention nor a crutch. Most people wouldn't know I have it. There are times I tell people because there's a reason they will need to know. I'm open here, but try to keep it to myself. My husband knows when I'm triggered, but most people wouldn't know. PTSD is one of the reasons I don't work.
There are days when I can't function. Those are less common living here, but still happen. PTSD is the reason I am terrified to be with strangers or people I don't trust. Those things make it nearly impossible to walk into a new place for eight hours a day. The thought sends me into a panic.
Even with that being the case, I don't often share that. I just tell people that I don't work without any reason.
I absolutely love the 4th. I'd never want to hamper anyone's fun. We go to displays every year and enjoy them. But here's the thing, I know what to expect. I know there are going to be loud noises. I don't get triggered when it's not surprising.
When people shoot off fireworks or even guns near our house, I do get triggered. Fireworks done by individuals in Ohio is illegal. Even with that, I'd still expect them on the 4th. When neighbors shoot them off in June, I'm triggered. It's unexpected. I'd still never say anything. I'd deal with it and life would go on.
In case you were wondering or still holding out on believing that PTSD is real, it is. I'm kind of beside myself that adults are so insensitive and ignorant to think it's not.
Nobody, and I repeat...NOBODY wants PTSD. Many people live with it without knowing there is a name for the thing that incapacitates them. I suppose that there are people who use it as a crutch. People who desire health do not! People who want to be healthier aren't going to use it as an excuse. They are going to count their progress and be ashamed of their setbacks.
I'm sad that anyone would attack or bully someone who has already been traumatized. It makes me sick really. That does absolutely nothing to encourage people to get help or be honest about their mental health.
If you don't understand a mental issue or even have an opposing view, I encourage you to ask questions but keep negativity to yourself.
Friday, July 3, 2015
Messy Heart, Hard Truth
There are a few things I've been praying through lately concerning my own heart. I've not shared them, not everything on my mind makes for an eventful blog post. In fact, somethings are far too personal and even embarrassing to share with anyone. But, then, some times it's worth sharing as a humble reminder to myself that I don't have everything figured out and there are still very dark places of my heart.
It's hard to admit, but I've found a lot of hate within me lately that I didn't think was there. I try my best to be loving and accepting. If you truly knew the hate I came out of, you'd understand and agree that I've come a long way. In fact, I'm nothing like those who taught me to hate. But, it's not completely gone.
Over the past few years, I've been very matter of fact about my acceptance of gay friends and their desires for civil liberties. You'd never find me at a gay pride parade, but I've been loving and accepting. I felt I had to be.
Since becoming a Christian, I've been surrounded by people who outwardly show so much hatred toward homosexuals. Not just a hatred of sin, but a judgemental hatred of who they are and how they live. I never wanted my life long gay friends to see that hatred in me. I wanted them to see a love that only Jesus could be credited for.
As I lovingly confronted a gay friend yesterday, I realized that I'm truly not as loving as I thought or want to be. As much as I support them, I don't love what they stand for or their sin. In fact, I hate it. I hate it as much as my own. I don't see them as equal when they flaunt their sin with pride. Isn't that what they are doing? They dance around the streets in sequined speedos or dye their lady Mohawks in rainbow colors or wear shorts and suspenders only over their rainbow nipple pasties. They demand equality, but celebrate how they are unique. They want it all. They want everyone to compromise their beliefs and standards, but refuse to make any compromise or have any compassion for people who want to live their lives void of flamboyant sin.
I hate that!
My conversation yesterday was convicting. I was angered that my friends demand acceptance, but have none for me. The most convicting part was that when it came right down to it, I had hatred toward their actions. For me, the bottom line was that I was right and they were wrong. I loved and supported and accepted, then found they had nothing but judgement for me in return.
My hardened heart instantaneously wanted to give them a big fat finger and side with my bigoted, hate filled friends. (Keep in mind, I don't see all Christians that way.) I know that's not the right response, but it's a completely honest response. It's the response of a sinners heart who understands they don't have the capacity to completely love those who oppose them.
Believe me, this gay issue isn't the only one where I've found hatred in my heart. There's hatred toward anyone who opposes me, doesn't like me or treats me unfairly. I can say that I easily shake it off, but that's a lie. I can say my heart isn't filled with anger, but it is. Ask my husband. He'd tell you right now I'm angry at the world because we moved here.
I'm not content in any of it. I also know that I'm not hiding any of it. It's on my face, in my words and written all over my daily life. I could tell you that I have this or that plan to change it. I don't. I can't. Not alone. I know it's going to take prayer and obedience to fix it. I know it's something that won't be fixed in an instant. It's something God will continuously allow me to be burdened by and He will allow conviction.
It's hard to admit, but I've found a lot of hate within me lately that I didn't think was there. I try my best to be loving and accepting. If you truly knew the hate I came out of, you'd understand and agree that I've come a long way. In fact, I'm nothing like those who taught me to hate. But, it's not completely gone.
Over the past few years, I've been very matter of fact about my acceptance of gay friends and their desires for civil liberties. You'd never find me at a gay pride parade, but I've been loving and accepting. I felt I had to be.
Since becoming a Christian, I've been surrounded by people who outwardly show so much hatred toward homosexuals. Not just a hatred of sin, but a judgemental hatred of who they are and how they live. I never wanted my life long gay friends to see that hatred in me. I wanted them to see a love that only Jesus could be credited for.
As I lovingly confronted a gay friend yesterday, I realized that I'm truly not as loving as I thought or want to be. As much as I support them, I don't love what they stand for or their sin. In fact, I hate it. I hate it as much as my own. I don't see them as equal when they flaunt their sin with pride. Isn't that what they are doing? They dance around the streets in sequined speedos or dye their lady Mohawks in rainbow colors or wear shorts and suspenders only over their rainbow nipple pasties. They demand equality, but celebrate how they are unique. They want it all. They want everyone to compromise their beliefs and standards, but refuse to make any compromise or have any compassion for people who want to live their lives void of flamboyant sin.
I hate that!
My conversation yesterday was convicting. I was angered that my friends demand acceptance, but have none for me. The most convicting part was that when it came right down to it, I had hatred toward their actions. For me, the bottom line was that I was right and they were wrong. I loved and supported and accepted, then found they had nothing but judgement for me in return.
My hardened heart instantaneously wanted to give them a big fat finger and side with my bigoted, hate filled friends. (Keep in mind, I don't see all Christians that way.) I know that's not the right response, but it's a completely honest response. It's the response of a sinners heart who understands they don't have the capacity to completely love those who oppose them.
Believe me, this gay issue isn't the only one where I've found hatred in my heart. There's hatred toward anyone who opposes me, doesn't like me or treats me unfairly. I can say that I easily shake it off, but that's a lie. I can say my heart isn't filled with anger, but it is. Ask my husband. He'd tell you right now I'm angry at the world because we moved here.
I'm not content in any of it. I also know that I'm not hiding any of it. It's on my face, in my words and written all over my daily life. I could tell you that I have this or that plan to change it. I don't. I can't. Not alone. I know it's going to take prayer and obedience to fix it. I know it's something that won't be fixed in an instant. It's something God will continuously allow me to be burdened by and He will allow conviction.
Thursday, July 2, 2015
Political Truth
Since I was young, I've loved politics. I'm not a fanatic. You won't see me post daily about it on social media and you won't hear much public conversation from me. I don't follow much of the details in foreign affairs. But, I still love it.
Also since I was young, I've been a Republican. I couldn't wait to vote. I've voted in every election since I turned 18.
So, I'm super excited about the upcoming presidential election. I've never seen so many candidates in this early. I've never seen so many hot button issues already on the table.
This class of candidates on both sides seem to have their fair amount of baggage and some aren't afraid to say what's on their minds. That will make debates so interesting.
Some of the candidates seem to be avoiding issues, while others wiggle right into the mess of it all. The most recent is Donald Trump. I'm not a fan of his. I don't think he's savvy enough. However, I appreciate his honesty. He said what many people think, but won't say.
Ok, so he over generalized Mexicans a bit too much. But, there are a lot of problems with illegals. I could tell you so many ways he is right.
An illegal man drove drunk down the wrong side of a KC highway, killing a woman and her young daughter. One who lived near me in KC killed his roommate and set a building on fire. Another of his friends raped a woman and burned her boyfriend alive in a car. They are all sitting in prison, while we pay for them until they die.
Illegals are permeating our country and their seems to be no consequence. Our children have to have social security numbers to go to school. I have to provide ID to purchase several items and open any account. How can undocumented immigrants really live a quality life here? Why are we not doing more to make them as accountable as tax payers?
There's definitely a problem. Trump has the wrong way of tackling the issue, but we shouldn't chastise him for an opinion based on some modicum of truth.
There's so many other candidates and issues that deserve some attention, but let's let the field dwindle a bit first.
Also since I was young, I've been a Republican. I couldn't wait to vote. I've voted in every election since I turned 18.
So, I'm super excited about the upcoming presidential election. I've never seen so many candidates in this early. I've never seen so many hot button issues already on the table.
This class of candidates on both sides seem to have their fair amount of baggage and some aren't afraid to say what's on their minds. That will make debates so interesting.
Some of the candidates seem to be avoiding issues, while others wiggle right into the mess of it all. The most recent is Donald Trump. I'm not a fan of his. I don't think he's savvy enough. However, I appreciate his honesty. He said what many people think, but won't say.
Ok, so he over generalized Mexicans a bit too much. But, there are a lot of problems with illegals. I could tell you so many ways he is right.
An illegal man drove drunk down the wrong side of a KC highway, killing a woman and her young daughter. One who lived near me in KC killed his roommate and set a building on fire. Another of his friends raped a woman and burned her boyfriend alive in a car. They are all sitting in prison, while we pay for them until they die.
Illegals are permeating our country and their seems to be no consequence. Our children have to have social security numbers to go to school. I have to provide ID to purchase several items and open any account. How can undocumented immigrants really live a quality life here? Why are we not doing more to make them as accountable as tax payers?
There's definitely a problem. Trump has the wrong way of tackling the issue, but we shouldn't chastise him for an opinion based on some modicum of truth.
There's so many other candidates and issues that deserve some attention, but let's let the field dwindle a bit first.
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