Holiday Hells

I don't think we generally use the term holiday juxtaposed with the term hell but it has a certain ring to it, don't you think? I think so... today.

What are these Holiday Hells? Amazingly enough they are everywhere.

Yards filled with elf, snowman, or Santa balloons half filled with air. I passed one the other day of a toy soldier who had lost half his air. He was bent at the waist, his face near the ground, one arm raised. He looked like he was praying. What does a toy soldier, an air filled toy soldier, have to do with Christmas? Maybe he was praying, asking the same question.

Stores with long lines of people who are generally in a nasty mood because they are having to stand in a long line to buy gifts for people they don't actually like anyway. Or complaining because they can't afford it and will be miserable into June because they spent too much.

Traffic jams at already poorly planned intersections, where horns blow for no apparent reason and to no apparent effect except to annoy those of us waiting patiently for the moron at the front of the line to realize the whole world has stopped in their tracks and is waiting for them to GO ON!

Christmas songs, with few religious ones, in every store in town that play over and over and over beginning in August and that we are all heartily sick of by December 1 but still have four weeks of them left. We don't even hear the words anymore, never mind feel the spirit that they were originally written to express.

Oh Holy Hell is what you hear the stressed mother in the toy aisle singing because she's trying to shop with her children and they are kicking and screaming and throwing tantrums because she won't let them pick up every item on the shelf. She's forgotten all about the wonder of the Holy Night. And Silent Night? That won't happen until after the kids are in bed and she can pull the plug on the television that had been running for 12 hours because her husband has been glued to the sports channel.

And my own personal holiday hells?

Waking up every few hours to pain strapped around my shoulders like a yoke.

Dragging myself out of bed for church and wondering why I have to live another day with this kind of pain, without Jerry. Wishing my children would go to church with me but knowing there is no point even asking anymore.

Sitting through worship service at church, clutching a fist of tissue until it is little more than dust so I can keep some of my dignity and composure while actually wanting to crawl under the pew and scream and scream and scream.

Enduring hugs from wonderful, well-meaning friends who tell me to hang on, it gets better.

Finding the sun shining as I come out of the church and as I head toward home, thinking how nice it would be if Jerry and I could take a drive somewhere this afternoon all while realizing it will never happen again.

Watching my son do something the way his father always did it.

Happy Holidays.

Are We Having FUN Yet!

Of course we are! I'm really excited about starting my challenge tomorrow. I have a blast with NaNo and it seems as if that is the kind of craziness I thrive on writing wise. I've provided helps to keep track and now the rest is up to us.

I've got a couple of NaNo'ers joining me. But you don't have to be a NaNowrimo to participate in this challenge. Just love to write. Remember you set the total goal, divide it up and write the appropriate number of words each day that wiil get you to the big finish.

Cass, I think Nina is going to join Multiply so who knows, she may catch the late train.

I have a birthday party to go to tomorrow night. Shhhh, it is a surprise so I won't breath a word until after the festivities. She isn't on this blog but I don't know if she reads my blogs! So, quiet!

I had a busy day at work and am thoroughly tired. Sitting four hours in a chair watching the overhead and computer screen for training is a literal pain in my neck. I'm going to the shower soon and then, I plan on pulling up my old NaNo and see if it is up for rewrite. I want to work on an existing work so it will be a bit harder to count my words. I"ll have to do a bit more math. I hate math.

By the way, I've fallen apart about every day this week, usually at night around bedtime. Particularly when I turn out the lights and look at the ceiling with the tiny glowing stars we put up. How will I ever take them down to paint now?

I think I'm more or less learning that it is going to happen. I can't prevent it, stop it, or make it any better. I've managed to gather some wonderful people around me that are just tremendous at popping in with a call, email or lunch (feeding the wounded is ingrained in all of us) and they have made life tremendously easier to cope with. I'm grateful for that. The night the writers group is here are so filled with laughter that is is very difficult to be depressed afterward. Of course, I manage somehow 8-(. I seem to love a challenge.

I'm finding nights in general a real problem at the moment . . . yes, I know, again. Look I have no idea what comes next. I don't like this position I'm in. If Jerry were alive, I'd be ranting and raving at him for doing this to me. That's stupid. I wouldn't be in this position if he were. I'd throw something, I'm sure. . . . . not that I ever did that before.

It is just so frightening to be approaching this . . . this deadline. I've considered what I'd be doing on the critical days the 25th, 11th, & 29th. It defies me because I don't want to think about them. So, I don't. . . much. A little.

For now, shower. Later, plotting.....

And Tuesday Arrived Wrapped in Shimmering Gray

Yes, she did. Wet, shimmering gray. Perhaps because she fell in the pool on the way in? At any rate, what a gloomy girl.

I went to bed at 9:30 last night. I just was so tired. I didn't get up until 6:30 this morning. That's 9 hours sleep! I have not been taking the Doxepin because I just needed my head cleared for a bit. It does get me foggy after about a week but it makes me sleep better at night. Although, I still take the muscle relaxant and melatonin. Maybe I just need a regular bedtime.

I'm not good and I can't tell why. I'm very depressed. I recognize the signs. Then, there is that hollow feeling that never really leaves and looms larger some days. I don't know if you can understand this concept but have you ever stood next to an open elevator shaft that had no elevator in it? I have and that is what it feels like. This yawning hole, not really threatening, just disconcerting.

Lately, I've been on the verge of tears all the time. I manage to maintain my composure for the most part. Yesterday, at my desk I just started to cry and had to close my door. I've been hearing things in the house again, as if someone is there. One night I got up and searched the whole place. It wasn't fun. I don't actually tell that to people much. I'm not imaginative in that way. I've always been pretty down to earth. A noise is a noise. I can't say the noises frighten me. I don't frighten easily, thankfully. I just don't like hearing sounds of people walking or moving about. I've not had mice for some time and they are not shy about leaving me signs so it isn't mice. I guess I'm not used to being afraid. And I am, most of the time.

I'm seeing my counselor today. I don't anticipate a very positive session. I'm very depressed. I did take Mike to lunch with me. He's the only one who calls these days or answers his phone when I call. It is always an adventure with Mike. You never know what mood he will be in. Today he was still coughing from the cold he can't seem to shake. But I think his mood was good all the same. I think he's been getting more sleep.

I'll be glad when my aunt comes back from her cruise. She calls everyday and it is nice to hear from her. My writer's group meets tomorrow night and that crew is always entertaining and just a pleasure to see.

Let's face it. I despise this whole thing. I'm not going to "get used to it". I'm not going to "get past it". I'm not going to "adjust". Makes me sound like one of those old televisions with the "rabbit ears" (you know those two pronged antenna that you had to put foil on and have someone adjust them so you could see a picture). I don't know how I am supposed to adjust.

I'm going to go home tonight and maybe go to the Y or I may be taking Mike to the store for some items he needs. We can argue about the merits of what he wants and who's paying. LOL, adventure, remember?

It's Oooooverrrr!

There is an old song (well not too old since I remember Elvis singing it) called "It Over". Monday is, to all intents and purposes over. I hate my job today. I told my boss I considered quitting when I woke up this morning. Of course I can't do that. It isn't an option.
Unless I win the lottery.

I don't believe in the lottery and never bought tickets before. I think my husband bought one once. But my boss plays it religiously. He goes around spending his winning... which he has yet to obtain. As a joke, I' tossed a few dollars at him telling him that it is money down a black hole but if he feels luck then I'm game. He laughed. I've been right so far. But sometimes I wish God had a perverse sense of humor and would let one of those dollars win the big pot. Proving that my lack of faith in anything is incorrect. Neither I nor God are laughing at this point.

No, I do not regularly play the lottery. Never have played before now. Last time I looked stupidity wasn't a sin. Be terrible if it was since there is sooooo much of it. But I'm two dollars broker. And that is probably a bigger sin. I would have been anyway when I spent it on a coke and apple pie that are neither good for me. Do not go out and buy lottery tickets. They are a waste of money. I don't advocate it. But I told him today that when I woke up I wanted to quit my job and if I felt even the least lucky I'd buy a ticket. If I dreamed the numbers tonight I might be very tempted.

I went to the doctor. I have bursitis in my upper arm and am to go to the orthopaedic doctor. They will give me a shot of cortisone to get rid of the pain. You know, I seem to recall months ago hitting my arm up there and thinking, "that's going to hurt tomorrow." I don't remember thinking about it again. But apparently, IT didn't forget. I can't remember what I hit but I hit it rather hard. Now, I can hardly brush my hair, can't lift a coffee mug from the shelf, and can't carry some items in a certain way without terrible pain. My arm just won't comply without biting me. And my shoulder is giving me fits on top of that.

My doctor told me to TAKE caffeine. He said my migraine was a rebound headache. I don't think so.I think I was dehydrated. I had the headache when I got up. I had coffee last night so I wasn't short of it. I've stopped trying to tell him anything on this issue. There all believe caffeine cause headaches and I don't doubt it does in some people. It has never affected me that way and my own evidence tells me it helps me stay migraine free longer. When I told him they get worse in the fall and better after spring, he said, "Oh, that sounds as if you have an allergy!" I told him I had reached that conclusion some time ago but didn't know what to do. So, we are going to get a spray and he will schedule me for allergy shots. Anyone ever had those? Do they work? Forever or just until they end?

My blood sugar is excellent he said.... still. I forgot to get my vitamin D refill. I'm tied. I don't want to go to the store. I'm sick and don't want to go to the Y either.

My blog is dismal, boring, and unenlightening. I hate being this way. Look back at some of the post two years ago. I had a BRAIN at some point. I actually could think for short periods of time. I know there are some lousy posts too but there were some thought provoking ones, interesting one, funny ones. People actually WANTED to read them. Now I feel as if everyone sees the title and wonders what ails me today. "Wonder what she's whining about now?" "How long can she yammer on about that?" "When will she get a clue that we are BORED?"

Don't say you haven't thought it. I have!

I do not like being a curmudgeon. I wonder what happened to the nice southern girl with the lovely manners who never spoke her mind but allowed everyone to speak theirs? What happened to the girl who believed everyone was nice, or good, or salvageable?

Beats me. Not sure she was even real.

You know, sometimes in my mind, I can actually seem myself 30 years ago, walking along with my arm in Jerry's and we're laughing and having a great time. I don't remember a care in the world. They rested on such broad, strong shoulders. I didn't have any reason to be concerned about anything. He always fixed it. Until he got sick. And I resented that he didn't fix things anymore because I didn't know he was sick. And now, I just want someone else to carry the load because it is way too much for me. I'm really just tired. I think sometimes my shoulder hurts because of the load I'm carrying on it.

Monday is over and the bathroom is warm now.

Monday Morning Blahs

I woke to find a dusting of snow on the ground and was so stressed I didn't want to leave the house. I've been depressed all weekend and missing Jerry terribly. I can't do anything about it.

I have a mild migraine headache on top of that. I think I may take something in a bit if it isn't better.

I had to go get that lab work done that I keep forgetting. They had to stick me twice in the back of my hand and said they still did not get enough. I think I was dehydrated. I had not had anything to drink and I was sweating when I woke up. The reason for my headache most likely. My doctor will probably be annoyed. I don't care.

My sister's tenant moved out of her rental unit. She is stressed and as a result so am I. I wish she had never bought the thing. The market is bad and she can't keep anyone in it for more than a year. She asked if Mike would want to move into it but he doesn't want to move in. I did ask him and then she asked him. It is a nice apartment but people don't want to pay their bills. They want everything free.

First Dave and Becca lived in it they didn't pay their utility bills and had to go somewhere that the Landlord would pay them. Then, Becca's mom and dad moved in and they didn't pay their security deposit and complained about rent half the time. They just moved out without any notice and they still owe rent because they have the keys. Do you think they will pay it? I doubt it. Actually, the wife moved out first with a cockamamie story that they were going to live in separate places. I told Phyllis to advertise then because I didn't believe he would stay. She believed he'd stay. He calls on the 1st to say he's moving. But he hasn't paid his rent. I told her to file it in court and report it to the credit bureau. They are both on the lease and it is a record for future landlords. There will be others. There always are.

Sadly, I had suggested Dave and Becca and Becca's folks. I thought these were people who were reliable. And they did take care of the place. But you can't live and not work and pay your bills. I've learned my lessons. Mike wants to stay where he is and that is better for him. Probably for me, too.

You know, I'm done with handouts. I give everything I can and all I get is smacked. No matter how nice, no matter how much money I fork out, no matter how I bend over backward to help, I end up with a knife stuck in me. I've been praying about it and asking God if I should change my character to stop this destructive behavior or sever ties with people who behave this way. There are times when someone needs help. And if I can do that then I want to do it. But when the same people come back again and again and again and never offer to return the favor, you got to wonder where the problem lies. I'm thinking I just need to stop rescue operations and everything that resembles favors. Start saying no.

I was asked today who I wanted to give as an emergency contact. Do you know, there wasn't anyone locally? Isn't that crazy? There isn't anyone capable of handling my affairs if something happens to me and I can't act. That is scary. Oh, I give my sister as primary but things are just crazy here.

I've thought over and over about moving but I can't do it. I have my house, my job, Jerry for all that he is dead, is here. I have a church that I truly love, warts and all. I don't know where I'd go. It is a very strange position to be in where those who love you most are gone. I've never realized how hollow life is without that. It pretty much doesn't mean anything. I can see why some people stop believing in anything and become bitter and hard.

Sorry for the depressing rant. I have lots of new friends and I'm grateful for them. I have my friends here on Multiply, nearly all long time friends. I do have family that love me. It just doesn't seem like it sometimes. I looked at Michael the other night and I thought how very very blessed I am to have Michael. In the early months of this nightmare I've been living, Mike was here. He stayed around when everyone else was gone. He didn't ask me questions, try to cheer me up, ask for anything. He sat here watching television or on the computer... just in case. And when I fell apart, he did his best to keep me together and when he couldn't, he made the calls.

He has no job. He has no money. He has no prospects. He has nothing at all. But Michael loves me completely and without any reservations or expectations. He is difficult to handle at times but Michael has, all his life, made my life brighter. He was the sunshine in nearly every day of his life. And the greatest heartbreaks have been for him. But he was just a good boy and still is. Everyone should have a Michael in their pocket. He was well named.

Ten Feet of Space

My holiday is over. I can't say I am sorry. I have to go back to work tomorrow. I've sat in my pj's all day, pain virtually everywhere, with every move. I try and think of a time when I didn't hurt. And I can't remember it. Years I think. And it gets worse.

I have been writing as hard as I could because frankly, I would really not like another loss at this point. It may seem a small thing but it matters. I have a wonderful group of writer friends who have encouraged and propped me up for weeks now. I have until midnight tomorrow. I'm tired, though and I don't know if I'll get there. They all agree I've accomplished much and should be proud of myself for getting so far under the circumstances. They're such nice people. One of the girls said in an email to me that she thought it was divine intervention that had brought the five of us together. Since I believe in such things, I suspect she is right.

As I write this post, I am sitting listening to Hillsong in the dark. I had hoped it would life my spirits. It didn't. I'm depressed because today, I realized that I don't love my life much. Despite it being Thanksgiving holiday, I'm not very thankful. At least, I don't think so. I've noticed that the rain finally began a short time ago. I should be thankful since it means the pain may lessen. I guess I'm grateful for being alive but how selfish is that? I'm grateful I am able to meet my financial obligations. But thankful? I'm not certain anymore what that entails. I've tried not to think about this aspect of my circumstances. I suspect what I feel is quite common. I've tried very hard for months to come to terms with it. I found that it doesn't help. It is very difficult to say "thank you" for a black hole that was created in my life. Everything is sucked into it and not even light can escape. I don't know how to say thanks to that.

Today, I sat down, overwhelmed by some ache when I tried to get out of my chair and the words tumbled out without my even realizing I was thinking it. "I hate my life." It was mostly whispered and as soon as I said it a light went off in my head and I recognized it as the truth. I try to never lie to anyone.... even myself. So, I don't love my life or anything much about it. I looked around because I did not want Mike to hear me say it. He worries so much anyway. And after he left for church, I managed to write some more and push it all away. But eventually, cracks opened up and I lost my hold on it all.

I've fallen apart at such stupid things and tonight, it was just about pain and how there was no comfort, no relief, and no one to just hold my hand. I never realized how important that is. And I never really knew how much Jerry did that. I remember him asking me to ask the doctor for something to stop it. And I got mad with him. Because I couldn't take a pill strong enough to relieve the pain that would allow me to remain conscious to live my life. I couldn't understand why he couldn't understand that. I didn't realize how much pain he was in as well. Still he sat close by, silent, while I struggled to deal with it.

Tonight I sit in a room that is approximately 9x10. The realization came to me tonight that all that matters of all that we do or say can be found within ten feet of you. And we usually stay close to what we love. But we don't notice it. It is silent and we don't really notice. Unless at some point it disappears. A void opens up.

I suppose the answer would be to look around and see what is within ten feet of where you sit right now. Reach out and grab it. Don't let go. If you do, it will begin to drift away, beyond your reach. Until you can't reach it anymore.

Touching Base and Counting Word

I am stopping in to just catch up a bit. I am using the Panorama mode in my inbox again. It makes it very easy to read the blogs! I like going to them to see what decorations people have up but sometimes, I need to read them in a hurry and this is a good way to do it. I don't like getting a ton of digest in my email so I don't use that.

I've reached a point in my NaNo that I am probably not going to reach the target goal. I'm just below 29,000 and by Friday I should be at 45,000 if I intend to even have a hope of reaching the final word count. I'm not expecting it.

I have no plans for Thanksgiving except taking my kids out to eat at Golden Corral. We talked about Wednesday night going because my sister has to work on Thursday but I just heard she doesn't want to do that. So, not sure yet what the plan is. I'm not in a celebratory mood and really won't care if I can just have the whole day to write. I might be able to hit that target if I can do that.

I suppose I should put my tree up this weekend as I usually do but even that seems too much effort for me. The whole house needs a thorough cleaning and I need to get rid of a bunch of things. I find myself needing less and less. Or wanting less.

I'm going to get back to work. There is lots of paperwork here and it needs my attention. We got our new hire in and she's been doing some of my work until her case load is handed to her. It has been a great help to me.

I may get back in later but when I get home I am going to hit the writing hard again tonight. So, not sure what my plans will be.

Three Days in the Tomb

Yes, that's pretty much how it feels this morning. The good thing is that there is a four day weekend at the end of it.

I had a monster migraine yesterday and the pain in my neck and shoulder became unbearable. I went to church in the morning but went to bed afterward. I've had three "Imitrex" required migraines since November 2007. That is an improvement but I suspect that some days I should have taken a pill and didn't. I used to take at least nine of them in less than three months. I truly believe if I could get rid of this shoulder and arm pain, I'd feel a lot better. My shoulder and arm feels like this constant, day in and day out cramping bruise. It can trigger a headache at any moment. This morning I know that a migraine is just below the surface. I just get this feeling in my head and I know. I always feel pretty bad after a bad pain day. I know it is just the lack of rest that triggers a depressive state and I'll get through it but the ride is not fun.

I joined the Y on Saturday as I believe I already said but when I got done I was so exhausted I could hardly move. I will have to go back but it won't be tonight I suspect. I need to call and ask about getting help to use the weights so I can see if they will help with the muscle weakness.

I am only 10,000 words behind on my word count. Don't see how I can catch up unless something dramatic happens to fire off the befuddled synapses. I've just sort of given up on it but I keep writing, even a few hundred words, as I did last night.

I have to go now and finish getting ready for work. I have a ton of stuff waiting to be done and a short time to do it. I would like to go in today and have the energy just to get it done. It isn't impossible, just overwhelming. So, say prayers for me, cross fingers and toes, wish me luck, say more prayers. Whatever blessing for productivity you can throw at me, please do.

Come Along, Friday

Today was Thursday. We sat through software training all day. Lunch was brought in and we didn't leave for anything.

I have to write 7000 words tonight to even get close to the goal. I don't actually care if I reach 50,000 words anymore. I'll be happy to survive until the 30th.

I'm too tired to think about being depressed, sad, or anything else. I have been but it is just too much effort to really deal with at the moment.

Writer's meeting was nice. This is a really nice group of people. I like them all. This week was Sarah's and my week to be reviewed. We liked Sarah's story. They liked my story. We were all nearly brain dead so they may not have really liked it but thought they did.

Did I say I am tired?

Oh, yeah, I did.

Come along, Friday. Don't dawdle.

That's All I Have To Say About That

Not a good moment, not a good day, not a good week, not a good month, not a good year.

Hurt my arm last night tossing a shoe. Yes, just tossing it. Felt as if it was ripped out of my shoulder.

I overslept this morning and was nearly an hour late for work. Fires were burning when I arrived. I want to go back to bed.

I broke the 20,000 word count last night. I'm 6000 behind. I don't know if I want to write anymore.

Positives? My writing buddies are some of the brightest spots on my day at the moment, particularly my writing group. They are just so great.

I've bumped into some old friends on FB. Three in the last month. One of them, last night, a girl I was friends with about 12 years ago. I was glad to hear from her and we are going to get together for lunch as soon as I can get free of this conflagration.

That's all I have to say about that.

Being There

I wanted to share a letter I received from a older lady who has been a dear friend to me for about 11 years. I have not shared her name to protect her privacy and I hope she doesn't mind. Her husband used to play the guitar and write poetry for the church newsletter I put together. He died probably more than 6 years ago and she is not able to get to our church much anymore (she lives about 50 miles away). I should have been a better friend but she lives in another city and I never see her very much. Still, I could have called once in awhile and I hope she will forgive me for that.

Like most people, I didn't realize then how devastating the loss of a spouse can be. Her husband has been dead far longer than the 10 months since mine died. She mentions my pastor, who also lost his wife not long after my friend lost her husband.

I share her words here because people often think things like "she should be past all this now" or "surely he's better now". They don't say it to your face. They just don't understand why you should still be harping on it. Why do you get all emotional after all this time? Why can't you get over the depression? This post is for you folks.

You told me you did not recommend that I read the things you write. At least you can write which you say helps you. I cannot do that but it helps knowing that how I feel is normal because others feel the same way I do. Bro Clement told me that he would not say that it would happen to me but he said for him it hasn't gotten any better. I feel the same. In fact it gets worse. I miss G@#$%#$% and need him more now than ever. I know some people say, "Life goes on and we have to accept it and move on" I wish it were that easy.

When we need our children the most they seem to be farther away. I did not understand how my mother felt and my children do not understand how I feel; how much I need them. At least I don't have to work for which I am thankful but I have to keep busy.
Some of my children want me to sell my house and move to an apartment. I ask one of my daughters (one which wants me to move) if her husband died would she sell her home, her furniture, everything he has worked for and move. She said, "No". I told her I felt the same way.

G@#$%#$% worked hard to get things for me and I am not ready to give them up. I have a friend here in O$%@#%@%^ who has lost her husband and she says she feels like no one cares about her. Her daughter does not help her. Her sister hasn't spoken to her for years. We can always find someone who is worse off than we are. We can thank God for the years we got to spend with our husbands and all the ways He has blessed us. I told a preacher the other day that G@#$%#$% wrote poems, played music and was such a blessing to everyone and God took him and left me and I can't do anything. Maybe that is why He left me, waiting for me to do something.

I have been having pain in my chest and I know it is from stress and worry. I had prayer the other night in Madisonville at a church service and I feel much better. If our children cared a little more for us it would really help but we can't do anything about that. Someday they will understand.

I'm praying for you because I know how hard it is just to get up every morning. Before I open my eyes I feel the weight of depression. I guess that is what the Bible means when it says to bear one another's burdens. We have to pray for each other. Love you

Look around you. There are people in this place. You may think they are "better". You may think they are "over it." They may look and act just fine. They aren't. It is likely they never will be. It doesn't get "better" (how I hate that word) or bearable.

You need to look at the ten people closest to you. One or more of them is going to die, whether it be your spouse, your child, your parent, a sibling, or your significant other. One of you will be in this place that I sit, that my friend sits. You should pray now for someone to be available when that happens. You do not want to do this alone.

I have said this before and I say it now. Most of us waste more than an hour a week on stupid things. If there is someone you know who is going through this kind of loss, make a point of calling. Use some of that wasted time to go to lunch, dinner, a movie, a drive in the country. You can't imagine how much it means, how much light it brings into their sphere of existence.

I thanked a young woman in my writing group the other day for taking time to chat with me. She is very sweet. She laughed and said I was "so silly." But for that brief period of time, I wasn't focused on the darkness that hovers around the edges. She also called one evening to see how things were going with my writing. I couldn't believe how thoughtful that was! She's a mother of young children who is working on her second book. She gave me 15 minutes and I felt so much better to be in the land of the living for that 15 minutes!

This past week while I was off was a mix of busyness and depression. As long as I was doing something or talking with someone or going somewhere, I was fine. Thursday was a beautiful day, sunny and the leaves just glowed. I went to lunch alone. I rode around about half an hour trying to figure out where to go so I wouldn't have to go home for a while. I finally stopped at Captain D's. It was a place Jerry and I liked to go. Most places are places we went together. My whole afternoon was thinking that I'd have been able to have lunch with Jerry. We could have gone for a drive after lunch. Instead, I went home and cried.

No, it doesn't get better. You don't recover. You just learn to breath underwater and you survive but it feels like you're drowning.

All A Mistake

I spent a lot of time running around but even more time at home alone with my ghosts. But only had two episodes where I fell apart, well, three if you count the one in the middle of this post. I'm rather tiresome that way but they were not long in duration nor violent in nature.

I have had the worst headache today. The first in months actually. It just won't quit. Short of an imitrex, which I am always afraid to take when I am alone, I see no end in site. I'm going to bed soon and hope that sleep will cure it.

I didn't go to church this morning. I did go get stationery to make wedding invitations. And while I was out, I went to the Mid-month NaNo Party/Write-In. I had lunch with the writers there and I thought that might make the headache better since I had not eaten much. It got better briefly but came back with a vengance. I came home half an hour early and made the invitations and sent them to church with Mike for Sis. V. I am quite proud of them if I do say so. They looked really pretty. After he left, I had a brief meltdown. Altogether, not really a very good week.

I'm just so tired of all this pain. Jerry never understood it and wanted me to find a pill to help me and I couldn't. Some days he couldn't even hug me. I couldn't hold hands because my hands hurt most of the time.

Now, I am just very tired of it. It has done nothing but wreck my whole life. Everything decision I make has to be checked by what hurts. Can I do that? Will I be able to participate? Will I be able to be civil? Will that hurt me tomorrow? And usually, the answer is no, I can't. And if I ignore that, I pay a high price. I have to go to work tomorrow, no matter how badly this hurts because there is no one to take care of me.

Tonight, I just want it to all go away. I want to wake up in October 2008 and everything since not to have happened. I want Jerry to be in the next room getting ready for bed and I'm sitting here getting ready for NaNo 2008. I want to wake up and it all be a bad dream that I can put in a book that will end up a best seller and I won't ever have to work again.

Mostly, I want my life back. I want my husband back. I want time to back up one whole year and let me try and stop this nightmare from happening. I want God to say he made a mistake.

And fix it.

Ouch! Did I Say Ouch!

I did. I woke up with a pounding head, terrible pain in my left upper arm so bad I couldn't move it, joints on both hands hurting and my neck hurting. I was nearly crying it all hurt so bad. I think my bp may have been up too but I didn't even get up to check it. Pain will do that to you anyway. The head still hurts even after I took my meds. I realized my back is also hurting.

Mike called about church but I could not get up. Dave and Becca told me they were going to come here and go with me. They never showed up or I'd have let them take my car and take Mike. Mike couldn't get over here to take the car or I'd have let him go alone. I'm going to try and go tonight.

David leaves for the truck driving school today so he won't have to pretend he is going to go to church anymore. Don't know why folks don't just say, "I don't want to go to church." Save me a lot of hassle. I prefer that to excuses and lies.

There is NaNo Half-way Party today at Panera Bread at 1 p.m. I'm not halfway but I'd like to go if I can get to feeling better. I'm barely over 15,000. I"m writing here and there. I just have no real story here. At least, I haven't found the story. It is just a bunch of stuff.

I have to make some announcements for a lady in my church. I need to get those made this afternoon and get them to her tonight. Her granddaughter is getting married to one of the boys in our church and he is shipping out to Iraq Dec. 5. I think this is a hurried thing and I hope it goes well for them. He is 19 and she is 18. I hope they have a long and happy life.

Katey, sorry about no picture. I forgot! Imagine that. And your hair sounds as if it is naturally curly so I'm guessing you don't roll it. You might try some kind of hot rollers sometime as an experiment with a heat conditioner. My guess is it would tame the frizz for you. Bet is is very dry, too. I had a friend with hair like that. Try some super-duper hot oil treatments. I don't advocate perms because it damages hair but they do work for some folks, particularly if you have curly hair. Just find someone who actually knows what they are doing. Perms could damage dry hair terribly.

At any rate, I could fix hair like that in a snap! This straight as a board stuff requires tons of curlers, tons of pins, and tons of hair spray! By the time I'm done with this style I've been practicing, I'm afraid I'll set off the metal detectors in airports. Bit it is simple.

Should I do a video of how to put it up? That might be fun. I'll have to have Becca come over and do it for me.

Grammy, in my faith we don't usually cut our hair. I've always kept mine trimmed to keep the ends from becoming so ragged but it has always been about hip length. Breaks off bad if it goes longer. A few times, my husband messed up and it was shorter but not many. I am about to get a trim again. I'm having a hard time putting it up with my arms so sore and my neck bothering me. I really don't want it short but I have to take some length off so I can manage it better.

It is cold in here today and I'm going to bump the heat up. I was sweating when I woke up and that's odd. Not sure why. Maybe the blanket got too hot or I was having a hot flash. I did forget to put on my patch last night so it is possible. Oh, and the headache might be from that. Hmmm, better go get that on.

I'm closing for now. I want to get warm.

Wake Up!

I woke before the alarm went off this morning. I took one of my Doxepin last night and had a really good sleep. I'm getting ready to eat something and head out for work. I really hate working. I want to stay home and write and do things around the house.

Actually, pain is very manageable this morning. Some in the shoulder and a bit in the wrist, hands, and knees but I'd say a 2 on the scale. I hope that last throughout the day. I am going to try and take the Doxepin for a few days and see how much it helps in the long term. I know the pain is the link to the exhaustion. I'm not nearly as tired when I've had a good sleep and pain levels go down.

If it continues to be a problem, I'll be calling for another cervical block to see if I can at least get several months rest.

Writing tonight is a must. Need to get at 10,000 by the weekend. By the 15th I have to be at 15,000 to stay on target. I'd like to be over that to give me wiggle room. So pray for plot bunnies to jump out at me from all directions! LOL, ttfn, everyone.

Jerry would be so excited for me. He wouldn't say much but he'd be in his chair and keep everyone out. I seem to miss him the most in the mornings and at night.

Good-by October, Hello NaNo

I am very depressed tonight. I've had far too much chocolate for one thing. It is why I seldom bring it into the house anymore. I just eat and eat it.

NaNoWriMo starts in about three hours and I'm not sure where I'm going with this. It is as if I am walled in and can't see, hear, or feel anything. I don't like it. I have lost so much in the last ten months. Most of it I can't remember.

I said once that I felt as if I were being pulled into the grave with Jerry. There is still that sense of a weight around me that I can't shake. Always the phrase that spins round and round in my head is "I want my life back. I want my life back. I want my life back." It is the sound a train makes as it travels along, or the sound a car makes on those long concrete roads, the sound a rocking chair makes as it rocks on old floors. Eventually, you are just lulled to sleep.

When he began to get so sick, and I failed to see it at the time, I was saying the same thing. I want my life back. He was never awake, never there when it mattered. He was missing so much of our life, of the boys, of Sarah. I saw what it was doing to him but couldn't ever seem to connect it with anything that made sense. I wanted OUR life back. I wanted him to be normal again. I wanted us to be normal. I wanted him to BE him. How could I have missed it all that time? How? Guess it doesn't matter anymore.

November 1 will be here soon. I don't shatter into a million pieces anymore... well, not very often. I don't become ill. . . very often. I don't break down.... very often. There are trade offs, however. I can't think. I can't really afford to feel anything. I avoid memories that otherwise might be pleasant. I don't talk about it more than absolutely necessary. But I can walk through my day with reasonable calm and get home totally wasted from exhaustion. Maintaining a facade is a lot of work.

I believe I've said before that I've always had a knack for acting. Wanted to be an actress growing up. I used to do lots of school plays before high school and did a few church plays as an adult. I was very good at it. Now it is paying off. I pretend my life is normal. I pretend I'm just peachy. I pretend I can function as usual. Everything is copacetic. Jerry used that word a lot in the military. Very satisfactory. Actually, everything is closer to snafu. Situation normal, all fouled up. My life.

So, I will attend the NaNo kick-off party tomorrow afternoon but I do not know if I will do any writing at all. I have nothing to write about. No clue, no plan, no ideas. And tonight, before it begins, I'm just really tired. I'm going to bed soon. It will be along day. Church at 10:00 a.m., Kick-off at 1:00 p.m., church again at 7:00 p.m.. I do not know if I will make it to all of that but must try.

Now, time for bed.

Last One Standing

It isn't a good day. I started rotten and hasn't got much better. When the alarm went off at 6:30 I didn't even get out of bed. I simply rolled over and called in sick. I hurt everywhere more than anywhere else, as my Mama would have said. I did not get on the floor until after 10:00 a.m. And then, I still didn't feel well. I was so tired and achy that I couldn't face a day at work. I found it was raining. . . again.

Now, as bedtime nears, I am still tired. I despise this disease. It saps every ounce of strength. I think it is because you are so busy struggling to deal with the pain and function that you just wear yourself out.

I cleaned up the living room and did laundry between reading and doing my bank statement. The writer's group will be meeting here Thursday night.

I had a prayer meeting sometime in the middle of the day. Don't know that it helped the pain but couldn't hurt. I'm a bit depressed as well so I guess it is all just part and parcel of the same thing. Saturday night when I asked Sarah whose photo was on the shelf, she said, "That's Pawpaw. He's gone to heaven. I wish he would come back to me." I do, too.

It would be bearable if you could stop missing them. If you could just flip a switch and stop wanting desperately to see them. But then you think how disloyal that thought is. You must not love them if you want to stop missing them. You must be cold indeed if you want to forget. And the pain in your chest is just this huge bomb waiting to go off when you realize you don't want to forget or to stop missing them, or even stop hurting. If it doesn't hurt I must be insensitive. If I forget I must not have cared at all. If ... if... if

It is the power of death that you feel. The unassailable power you can't stop or deter. That can come in and sweep away an existence as if it never existed and leave not even a footprint in the sand. It can't be stopped by any one of us. There is no weapon that can halt his actions. You begin to look at every person around you and think, "They could be next!" or "I could be next!" You look at children differently, your own and others.

You realize how very important continuity is to humans, the desire to live on, not necessarily forever, but in your children, your grandchildren, and their children. You look at the last survivor of your line and you have this sense that you will truly be dead when that last one is gone.

For those of you who've done family trees, you know what I mean. You trace that tree for one purpose. To anchor you to something, to make a connection to the past and carry it through to the future is some how comforting and gives us a sense of security and belonging. It is a sense of continuity, that you will survive somewhere. That in the future, someone will be born with your eyes, your hair, your nose or your flat feet. It doesn't matter as long as your DNA goes on.

I've seen children who do not know who a one of their parents is and the sense of being an outcast or reject is so powerful to them. They can't trace one half of themselves and their children can't as well. They struggle for an identity. It is torment for them because they can't ever know. They suffer from a sense of incompleteness.

I never realized how powerful that connection to family could be until mine began to die off. With my husband's death, the sand began to race with an incomprehensible speed. Now, I see my small Sarah alone and with no connection to her past left when I am no longer here. My oldest son has no children. My youngest in all likelihood will have no more. Only if God is gracious to us, will Sarah have children of her own. And I know how she will feel at that point. She will wish we could all come back to her.

I wish they could all come back to me. Tonight, I am the last one standing. It is a terrible feeling.

Sunday Aches and Life Sucks.

I woke up this morning in pain. So, what else is new?

Everything hurts. I did not go to church. I tried to call the youngest son to see if some of them would come and drive for me but no one answered the phones. I didn't even try Mike. He never gets up and I am tired of calling and calling to ask.

So, I didn't go.

My hand, arms, shoulders, knees, feet and legs hurt. Some is caused by my carrying Sarah a bit in the mall yesterday but the cold is the greatest contributor I suspect. This time of year is a nightmare for me. My hands are cold and my feet are cold, despite thick wool socks my sister bought for me. I can only imagine how cold they would feel without those!

I sleep in sweats and I've not even got dressed all day. Shoulders hurt when I try and reach up to get anything above shoulder height. My knees hurt when I walk. They feel like they are froze, too. Everything just feels stiff and locked up. Muscles in my calf and upper arms are sore.

I'm miserable and I hate this. I can't stand living like this. I can't do anything. My brain is in a constant fog. I'm always tired. I manage to get through my work day but I'm totally wiped out by 5 pm. I can't go anywhere and do anything for long. Once I sit down, I'm done.


I want Jerry to come and just sit next to me. I just want him to come home. I'm tired of this.

Survivors

Many of my readers have repeatedly said that they didn't know what to say to someone experiencing grief. My own situation has caused me to look at this in a different way and far deeper than I ever imagined I'd want or need. As I've become able to function more normally, I've found myself fascinated by a paradox.

A vast majority of people across all cultures believe that death takes that person to a better place. This is supposed to give comfort to those left behind. Honestly, it doesn't much. But if they've gone to a better place, it does leave the survivors alone in a hell not of their making. Those not affected by it simply stand on the edges, watching the struggle. The grief-stricken are left alone to claw their way back to the land of the living. For truly, a part of you has died and left to your own devices, you may very well die, too. I can tell you, I felt as if I were being pulled into the grave with Jerry. And nine months later, there are days I still do.

If the bereaved is not to blame for the death of the person, why does the rest of the world spend so much time making them feel they've done something wrong? People won't talk to you or listen to you. They barely speak when you approach them. They don't call or come around. Yet, if you stopped them and asked them, they'd automatically put it back on you, the bereaved with "Why didn't you tell me?" or "You should have called me."

There are things you need to know about these Survivors of death. The bereaved can barely walk for months. They don't see things right in front of them. I've run numerous traffic lights in the last seven months. I've probably run three in my entire 53 years, until now. I absolutely didn't see them. Ask Mike. He's been with me twice.

The bereaved can't remember what day it is. They don't remember if they paid the light bill. They don't remember if they went to the store, despite finding the milk in the laundry room. They forget to take medications. But they are expected to remember they need solace and call for it as if they were ordering pizza?

Rest assured, they have trouble remembering their address at this point. They won't remember your phone number or even your name at times. Particularly if you never bothered much anyway. I have a basket of small notes with phone numbers on them taken from the answering machine over months. Some don't have names on them. I knew who they were when I wrote it down....

I remember nothing but bits and pieces of the the first three months after Jerry died. Most of those have to do with times I fell apart and couldn't get up out of the floor. Or they were the trips I took out of town to be with people who could look after me for a while and pick me up out of the floor. Or they could make me not think about what was happening to my life. I remember trying to get ready for work one morning and suddenly, doubling over and screaming over and over, unable stand or to breath. I was only able to sob uncontrollably.

For two months after his death I was afraid to go to sleep at night. I was afraid I'd die in my sleep. It was horrible to even lie down and think about letting go so I could sleep. As a Christian, this is a terrible feeling. We aren't supposed to fear death! I don't know if it is normal. If other people feel that way, they don't tell it.

On top of that, the darkness is the best movie screen ever designed. Every scene is played back for you in living color. If you witnessed the death, as I did, you see it again, and again, and again. You hear the sounds they made in those last minutes. You see the empty eyes. Simple sounds take on new meanings. You see that last day over and over and wonder what you could have done differently that MIGHT had altered the course. Change one thing and everything changes.

Survivors, wondering if they had steered a bit more south they'd have missed the iceberg. Survivors, just like those committees who go over wreckage with a fine toothed comb, go over every detail of our lives and the death to discover what happened and if we could have stopped, slowed, reversed, prevented it all.

Most of us are left wondering, clinging to the wreckage, holding a shirt with the scent of a memory. We are Survivors and we're left with only questions.

Small Joys

Surprises come in many places and things. Life is often filled with one sort of surprise or another and a good many are not good surprises. But it is the little things that often bring the greatest pleasure and warm our hearts.

Today was another busy day at work and one thing after another until you begin to feel like one of those ducks in the shooting gallery. Back and forth with some rube taking potshots at you. I'm so tired. And to end the day there were problems with something they need for the computer changes we are making that I can't deliver and I told the person last week what we needed and she did nothing to get that information. And she took two days off this week knowing she didn't have it. So, I gladly left it until tomorrow when she will return. I suggested that the person heading all this up, the Director of Capital Funds, a man with no personality or tact, speak with her about it. {SMILE}

I came home dragging my feet. I got my mail, unlocked my door and sat down my bags. Junk mail from the credit card industry, sale paper, and a small card..... a postcard. I like postcards. Somehow they just feel special and exotic to me. Someone picks them out specially for you and thinks about you as they pay for it and as they post it. That's special.

This one has a photo of some interesting old stone buildings... at least some of them look like old buildings but they're well cared for. It is a bright sunny day on a city plaza in some faraway place. There are tall chimneys and church spires. I flipped it over and read and smiled. And that lovely warm feeling that good surprises give you spread through my soul and the day's troubles fell away.

I have such lovely friends in far away places. Thank you, Jilly, for thinking of me.

Chili Movie Nite

Mike and I are getting ready to do our Chili Movie Nite. He's gone to buy the fix'ins since I didn't have enough in the larder. And then he'll pick up the movie while I fix the chili.

I did have lunch with my writing friend, Doug. We went to a Chinese restaurant roughly between where we both work. We batted around some places but I got the impression he likes Chinese and since I do to that was what we agreed on.

The lunch went well. It was really nice to sit and discuss writing styles, methods, and concerns. We are both looking forward to this writing group. We discussed what we thought we would gain from it and we discussed the first piece of writing we've been given to critique.

As I mentioned, we met last November and since then, we've only emailed here and there to just stay in contact until this November. One thing we both agreed on is that to really stay charged up about writing you need to be able to connect with other writers who love it as much as you do. He has a rather large family- four children and a wife. WIth a job and a family that size, writing can often get shuffled to the back burner and if you don't have a way to stay focused, it gets cold. I think the group will really benefit him.

As for me, you all know my motivation for doing this. I need my sanity. But I also need the contact with people who love writing. I enjoy talking about it and I like sharing information and ideas. I don't have the kind of distractions Doug will have but mine are far more insidious.

My husband was very supportive of me and the writing. He never said much and didn't complain about it in any way if I wrote for hours. I was so fortunate to have someone who just wanted me to be happy. How very foolish that I wasn't always happy. We are so blind to what we have. Always looking for something to get better. Never content with what we've been blessed to have. I was given a great treasure and I treated it like an old pair of shoes. Not like my special shoes I wear and take care of and am so proud of and love to show off.

I'm not going to go down that dark path right now. I have managed to keep my mood a bit lighter the last two days and I don't want to lose it. I have to work tomorrow and I don't want to go in after a bad night.

I will pop around again later if it isn't too late.