1. In almost a week exactly, I will be landing in San Diego for BlogHer11. I wasn’t going to post about it at all, however curiosity got the best of me. Who’s going? Who wants to try and meet up? It can be hard to find people in a sea of 3,000 people. It was near impossible last year to locate people and it was all in one location. This year, there are people spread out over two hotels and the convention center is in a different location. Basically, what I’m saying is, let me know now if you’d like to try and meet up. You can always DM/Email me when I’m there. I am one with my iPhone.
Last year, I only went to two events the entire weekend. The Voices of the Year and Sparklecorn. I had a teeny love affair with NYC. It was near impossible for me to be in the hotel. NYC called to me. This year, I have sessions I plan on attending as well as parties. So I will be around a lot more. (I love San Diego, but I’ve been there many times.)
My only advice that I’ll give is be you and try to step out of your comfort zone and bit and talk to new people. You never know who you will meet. Most people at BH are super nice. Really? We’re all geeks who spend way too much time online.
I will be the one in capris, t-shirts and flip-flops giving out mini-moo cards with sarcastic sayings on them. Come say hi if you see me. I’d love to meet you.
ps. I will be hosting the Serenity Suite on Saturday from 2-3pm.
2. Last night it came to my attention that I am incapable of re-reading Berenstein Bears books for the third go round. CANNOT DO IT. Reading one last night made me want to gorge my own eyeballs out. With a spork. However, my tiny son has finally grown tired of his Cars, Toy Story and dump truck books. So he started looking around at other things and found a huge stack of the bears books. Those bears have to go. I need to buy him more books though. I’d given away the girls toddler/preschooler books. Or most of them. The bears will somehow be given to my ex. Let him read that crap.
I could really use suggestions on books your kids love/loved at 2-3 years old.
3. At some point in the last month or so, I finally relented and let Morgan put Radio Disney as a preset button on my XM radio. It annoys the crap out of me. Not just the music, but the NON STOP commercials and talking. THIS IS XM RADIO PEOPLE! I pay for it, so I don’t have to listen to that crap. If I wanted to listen to constant talking, I’d listen to REAL RADIO!
It’s a mark that I’m getting more patient and nice though as I age, that I put up with it. The girls have this new thing of constantly asking me if I like an artist. It doesn’t matter which station. They want my opinion. On Radio Disney, instead of saying, hell no this is all crap and it’s making my ears bleed, I say oh she’s okay. Or, I don’t mine this song. See? Growing up. Heh.
4. I am learning something new at work. It’s a challenge to learn new things at times, but I’m sorta happy that I am. Means my brain isn’t as atrophied as I sometimes think it is.
5. One week till vacation. I am taking a week off. BlogHer first and then a few very much needed BFF days after. I truly can’t wait.
Yesterday I posted that I needed a break. That I was burned out on the Internet. It’s still in a way correct. However at some point yesterday I realized why I said it. Because of her. Because four years my happy (as I saw it then) life changed forever. Four years ago, I lost my Piper. I can lie to you and say that I knew this when I wrote that post yesterday, but I didn’t. I just knew that I had nothing to say. Turns out, I was lying to myself as well.
Losing her changed me in more ways than I can even begin to tell you. I have written about it before. At times I may continue to write about it. I may be a different person now than I was six months ago, or a year or two years ago. However I’ll never again be the woman I was before losing her. I don’t know that anyone can get back that kind of innocence once it’s lost. All I can do now is keep working on me.
I have a lot to say. Yesterday, I thought I had nothing to say. Turns out, I’m a bit afraid of my words. I’m maybe also afraid of myself right now. I’ve had a really great say week and a half and I’m afraid to change that. Isn’t that silly? A few good weeks and I’m afraid of going back to the way things were. I’m scared that one slip up, one small thing that sets me off will send me into a deep depression. Getting off of my meds made me realize that I never want to do that again. I never want to have those withdrawals again. However, I also can’t live my life avoiding all emotions because I’m scared of them.
I’m scared that sad will always equal depression for me. This may be something that I have to battle for awhile. Anyway, this is what’s really going on. I’m terrified to feel. I thought by closing off, I’d feel better. It actually made it worse. So….I guess pretend I said nothing yesterday. I’m sorry to you all that I’m like this. But I am. I act first at times and think later. Not as often as I used too, but at times it may always happen.
Piper. My baby. The baby girl I never got to see or hold, will always be in my heart. I will always love her, even though I only had her for a short period of time. 14 weeks isn’t long. Yet, it was our only time together. I try not to think about what she’d be like now. I try not to imagine a three year old bouncy little girl. If I had her, I wouldn’t have the bouncy two year old boy who has my whole heart. Doesn’t make me miss her any less though.
Today is her day. Today is the day I remember. Her name was Piper Isabelle.
I don’t know why, but I’m completely burnt out on the Internet right now. I’m tired. My summer has gotten very busy and that is a great thing for me. Maybe I just need a small break. Something about keeping up with Twitter, Email, Facebook, blogs and Google+ has gotten to be too much. I’ve got nothing to post about. I’m starting to wonder if I’m maybe done.
I doubt I am. This is not the first, nor will it be the last time I feel like it’s too much work. I’m just saying, I’m so burnt out that I’m thinking about these things. I’m really hoping that BlogHer helps me find my love for this again. I will be there. If you are there, I’d love to see you.
Either way? I know I’ll be back eventually. For now? I’m just needing a small break.
On Thursday night last week, I was starting to think getting off my anti-depressants was a horrible decision. My ears were buzzing. I’m not even sure I can explain it. It almost felt like my brain was buzzing. I’ve never had a symptom make me feel so crazy like that before. I literally wanted to stick a knife in my ear to stop the constant buzzing. I kept thinking to myself, this is CRAZY. I am CRAZY. I can almost understand how something like this would make people do something stupid. I think I went to bed at 8:30pm that night. Just to stop feeling like that. I told myself, if this is still happening in the morning, I will take a pill from the bottle still in my bathroom and I will go see my doctor.
In the morning, it was gone. It’d never happened before and it’s never happened since. I’ll tell you though…it scared me. I was so happy it was gone.
I went to my (already scheduled) endocrinologist appointment to give blood/drink the glucose of death and then went about the rest of my day.
By Friday afternoon, I was noticing something different. Even with as hectic a morning as I’d had, I, for the first time in weeks felt good. I texted my best friends: I feel like me today. I did. I felt clear headed. I wasn’t angry at anything. I didn’t want to punch a wall. I wasn’t having any side effects. The medication was officially out of my system and I felt great. I have felt good and clear headed ever since then.
Two weeks of major side effects was harsh. However, to be off medication? It was worth it. (I can say that now, since I feel better.) I do not know what will happen in the future. I can’t say that I will never need it again. I can’t even for sure tell you what my choice will be in four more weeks. How will I deal with winter? How will I deal with any major change in my life? These are unknowns for now. However, in the moment? I feel like myself. And that makes me happy.
Mama, today was my best day ever. I smiled to myself as she said this on Saturday night. I’m so glad baby.
It was her best day ever. I believe her. Breakfast at Mimi’s Cafe. Seeing Harry Potter with her sister, grandma and I. Shopping. BBQ, presents and cake with the whole family in the evening. It was a pretty great day. However, she has a lot of best days ever. Each time she says it, she absolutely means it. Because she is that kid. Her glass is always full. The sun is always shining. All dogs want to lick her. Everyone is a potential best friend. She’s the person I wish I could be more like. Funny to say that about my own daughter, but it’s true. I adore her with every single fiber of my being.
Today, my Bailey is seven years old. Seven. I don’t know how it happened. I look at her all full of humor and a zillion words a minute; graceful yet clumsy at the same time; full of love for everyone and everything. I see her now and I see her then. My surprise delivery room girl. I see the tiny squish of a newborn even now. I can close my eyes and see her then. I open them and see her now.
I wanted to tell her that she’s not seven yet. Not until 11:47pm tonight. I didn’t though, because I’m not that mean. Not this year at least. Doesn’t matter, she’d of just rolled her eyes at me anyway. Today she will tell every single person she sees that it is her birthday. She will not get embarrassed by people singing. In fact, she’d love it if everyone she comes across would sing to her. Tonight I will take her to Red Chicken (our name for Red Robin) for dinner, just because she adores their birthday song. Tonight I will tell her the story of her birth, just like I do every year. It’s her very favorite story ever.
Today is her day and she plans on enjoying every second.
She should enjoy every second. She deserves that and much, much more. She lights up my world and everyone who she comes across. She is beautiful and absolutely amazing. And today is her birthday. Today she is seven.
I remember the first time I read Harry Potter.
That early morning saw me up in the pre-dawn hours trying to locate a missing remote. Reaching into both sides of the cushion I was sitting on, I located the remote and a book. I was pregnant with Morgan and it was after September 11th. Pregnant me after September 11th stopped being capable of sleeping. Insomniac worrier me, watched a lot of very bad early morning television.
Harry Potter and the Sorcerers Stone.
I sat and looked at it for a few minutes trying to remember where it could have come from. Oh it’s probably Collin’s, I said to myself. My eleven year old cousin was famous for leaving everything he owned elsewhere. I set it aside. After ten minutes of flipping channels, I turned off the TV and picked up the book. What can it hurt, I thought to myself. Maybe it will put me to sleep.
Logan found me still reading on the couch when he got up a few hours later. I was hooked. I was also pissed that I needed to get up and go to work, before finishing the book. I’d lost myself in a world of wizards. A hero in the form of a small boy. I had trouble putting it down.
It was Fall 2001. The third book had just been published. I purchased all three the same evening, even before I’d had the chance to finish the first book. I couldn’t have cared less that they were children’s books. When done reading them, I made Logan read them. He too was hooked. After that, we reeled in our parents. Really, if you want to be able to talk about story lines non-stop, get my mother to read it. We all waited years to get our hands on the rest of the books. Each new book was purchased in bulk. We all needed our own copy. There was no waiting or sharing.
My girls saw the first few movies, before they were old enough to read the books. We are a Harry Potter family. We know all the characters. We can all spend hours discussing the books and films. We compare them. It’s fun. Family bonding or something like that.
At this point, I’ve read all of the books to both Morgan and Bailey. Morgan has also just finished reading them all herself. On Saturday my mom and my daughters and I will go see the final chapter on the big screen. We are equally excited and sad. It’s exciting to see how they finish it. We all have things we hope they don’t leave out, although we’re all realists who know it’s not ever the exact replica of the book. It’s hard to know that it’s really done now. This is it. The last piece. After that, Harry Potter as we know it, is over. We’ll have seen everything there is too see. Read everything there is to read.
It’s an end to an era in a way. Or at least until Harrison is old enough for me to start over with.
Complete darkness is all around me. (Black out blinds, best investment ever.) My bed is comfy. Soft sheets, even softer blankets. My air conditioner is set at the perfect temperature. I have no reason for being awake. I just am. I wonder to myself for the seventh time that night what time it may be. I reach for the iPhone on my side table and stop myself before I pick it up. I have a strict don’t look rule when I am like this. It’s worse to know what time it is. If I don’t know, I can tell myself it’s only midnight. If it’s midnight I have tons of time to sleep enough to feel human. I know I’m lying to myself. It’s still better than knowing that it’s 4:22am. Or 3:46am. Or whatever time it happens to literally be in the moment. When I know, I figure out how many minutes it is until my alarm goes off. That is a guaranteed way for me to not sleep. I toss and turn the rest of the night anyway.
I haven’t slept well in a week. The only night I slept all of the way through, I took two Benadryl. I’m contemplating doing that again. My kids come home tomorrow after a week on vacation with their grandparents. I need to sleep.
My head pounds all day long. It’s a pre-migraine headache. It hasn’t turned into a migraine, yet I can’t get rid of it either. No matter how much water I drink or Advil I take, it won’t leave.
I went through a few days of being slightly nauseous. Now, I’m eating everything in sight. I believe that last part is PMS, but really I’m guessing.
I am irritable. At everything. At nothing. I get on and off of Twitter. Mostly because you all breath. Literally. I’d like to give a real reason, but I don’t have any. Everything annoys me. Which is odd, because I can ignore most things online. When things annoy me, I hit that pretty red X. Yet, right now, everything annoys me. I’m finding myself grouchy non-stop.
I just yelled at my dog. Because I tripped on her bone. Yeah, she was asleep across the room. I am thankful my kids haven’t been here for a week. I’m sure pissy, yelly mom wouldn’t have been fun for them. I’m hoping I can keep myself from being like that when they come home tomorrow.
I send emails and after a week of no response I wonder what I did wrong. Sigh. This is the part I hate. The over thinking. The believing it’s always about me. It’s not me. I am sure of it. But I have trouble not jumping to that first.
I’m half the time so spacey I can’t remember why I got up and the other half the time there are so many details in my head, I can’t write them down fast enough.
I’ve been off my anti-depressant a week and a day. Awesome side effects huh?
The weird thing, is that the irritability is what bothers me the most. I hate being that person that is grouchy at everyone and everything all of the time. I hate watching every word I say, just to make sure I don’t spew my irritation at others. The rest I can handle, but this annoys me. Ha. I’m annoyed that I’m annoyed. Fun times.
It’s not as bad as I thought it would be, the side effects of withdrawal. I feared the anxiety and so far, I’ve been mostly okay. It’s not pleasant, that is for sure. Yet, so far? I can do this. I have not gotten depressed. I have not had a panic attack. I think I can deal with the rest of it. I need to keep myself in check at times. But because I’m aware of how I am, I’ve so far managed to do this. I’m being hyper vigilant right now.
Anyway, I wanted to share. Because you all have been here with me for years and you deserve real. What I posted yesterday? Total crap. I know this. It was my need to not feel like I was over burdening anyone. Yesterday was a bad day. Today will hopefully be better.
I keep telling everyone I’m okay. And I am. Not great, not bad, just okay. I’ll take it right now.
This, by the way, is my theme song right now. Not sure why, but it just seems to sit well with me. I thought I’d share.
What can I say? I’m a cheat. I’m going to go with the old stand-by when one has absolutely nothing to talk about. (Or nothing they want to share at least.) I’m going to let you all ask me anything you want. I will try to answer all questions.
Give it your best shot. Ask away.
I dream about Poland.
It’s silly actually, as I’ve never been. Yet, every now and again, I still have this dream that I’ve had for the better part of fifteen years. I’ve pieced together an entire dream in my head, from photos online, random movies and old stories my grandfather told me as a child. I dream of walking down streets I’ve never walked on. Seeing buildings that I’ve only seen in photographs. I dream of meeting family somehow who I well know doesn’t exist. It’s a pipe dream. This I know.
Yet? I still want to go. I want to see the world that my father’s family escaped from. I want to walk down the streets that my great-grandma walked on at my age. I want to search and see if there are any records of them being there. In a way, I want to know where I come from. On my mothers side, every detail is available from the one enslaved boy who came over in the time of the Mayflower. My fathers side is a big blank slate. It appears my family just came into being when they reached Ellis Island.
I’m 31 years old. I’ve had this dream for 15 years. I’ve wanted to go to Poland, even longer than that. Today is the day I start making that a reality. Heck, it may take me five years to save the money for the kids and I to go…but that’s okay. I just opened a new savings account. It’s my Poland fund. Between now and then, I have to figure out exactly where I should go. I have to find a way to know what our last name was before they changed it. I don’t know exactly how to do this yet, but I’ll get there eventually.
One day, I’ll walk the streets of Poland. One day.
It will be four years in July. July 26th to be exact. Four years since I lost my Piper and for a while, myself. I’ve been on anti-depressants for nearly as long. It was needed. I needed them. At first they helped me get out of bed. They helped me re-join the world. To see that I didn’t cause what happened. To help me see that I could make a difference in what I was currently doing.
Since then, I’ve battled depression. It never seems to fully leave. At times it lays dormant, just laying in wait for the next opportunity to pounce.
I’ve dealt with more in the past four years than I could begin to put into words. PPD twice. Childhood abuse issues. A pretty much complete distance from my dad, step-mother and her children. Separation. Child sharing. Divorce. Life after divorce. That’s just the surface words. The reality was much harsher.
I’ve lowered and upped my doses for years depending on what was in my face in the moment. I’ve battled many horrible bouts of depression in the past four years. I’ve also battled some not as bad ones. I’ve spent weeks hiding in bed. I’ve had days that I honestly believed the sun would never shine again. Depression does that. It takes over your entire world. It makes you tired. It physically hurts. It makes you doubt everything good in your life. Those commercials with the dark cloud following the cartoon person around? Those are a fairly accurate picture. When I’m depressed, I’m pretty horrible to myself. My head gets all messed up and I over think everything said to me and everything I say to the point of making myself and everyone around me crazy.
I’ve also had some amazing depression free periods. Some last days, some weeks and lately it has been months. Months in-between bouts with darkness. Even the darkness, when it comes hasn’t been as long. Days instead of weeks. An occasional week, instead of months. Life has gotten better. My life is a lot more sunshine these days. My head is a lot more mellow.
On Friday, I went to an Endocrinologist for a plethora of reasons. I plan on explaining some of what was said at a later time. For now, let’s just say, I adore the woman. One thing she said to me, was that she’d like me to think about getting off my depression medication.
I’ve thought about it for days. I have been on the lowest dose possible for the past three months. The longest time I’ve gone that low since starting it. I’ve weighed all of the options. I know what could happen. I know it could throw me into a depression. I know the physical side effects of getting off of it. I know what my head may do. How I may get. I know all of this.
Yet, I’m going to try anyway. I’d like to give it a full six weeks before I consider if I can do it for good, or if I need to return to it. Six weeks. I’ve picked a time of sunshine and warmth. I’ve made a list for myself of fun thing that are happening in the next six weeks and a second list of things to do when I start feeling bad.
I’m going to try. I want off of this. It wasn’t what I wanted when I got on it. It was what I needed. The hard truth is that I may always battle depression. That doesn’t mean I need to be medicated forever though. If needed at a later date, I will go back on it, knowing that I gave it a good shot. Whether that’s in six weeks, six months or six years. It’s okay.
I’m scared. I’m terrified that I’m making a huge mistake. I’m worried that it will set of my anxiety. I think I’m most scared that I’m deluding myself. That I really do still need the medication to function. I have to give it a shot though.
Today is day one.
Grab My Button!
I’m a joiner
