The Hardest Post Ever

Misconceptions

 

I am admitting to you something that is hard for me. So bear with me. Don't think any less of me. Don't think any more of me. This does not make me heroic. It does not make me a coward. It does not change who I am.

I heard a song today that summed up how powerful a mental illness can be. I'll admit that I have struggled with certain mental illnesses all my life. Believe it or not I am incredibly shy. I overcome this at work by being the extreme opposite. I create this person who is vivacious and chatty. I want to believe that I AM this person. But sometimes I realize I am not.

I don't like crowds or strangers. I don't like my personal space invaded. I don't like being touched. That is the hardest part because it is the thing that I want the most. I want to be touched and be loved. But my OCD kicks in and I can't have a repetitive motion on my skin.

My OCD causes me wasted time. I arrive an hour early for most appointments if I am driving myself. If I'm with another then I am a nervous wreck if we are 15 minutes early. If I'm late...I can't recover for the rest of the day. I expect all appointments to be exactly on time. Not early and definitely not late.

I have severe depression at times when left alone too long and this back injury has moved that depression level into a critical stage. I'm alone most of the day which in turn makes me want to be alone. I love my work. I want to go back. But I'm scared. I'm scared that I won't fit in. That my coworkers, who are my only friends here, will have excluded me. That I won't have friends here anymore.

Maybe you would never guess that this is what I go through. That any whisper automatically makes my mind think they are talking about me. I'm ashamed of my looks. I'm ashamed of my intelligence. It is why I'm signed up for at least 10 classes every few weeks. I feel like I'm dumb and not in contact with the real world.

What I am about to admit is incredibly hard but I know it is a first step. For those of you who will read this, not comment and then talk about it with others...enjoy yourself. You are part of the problem and not part of the solution. If you want to talk to me about it...please do because I need that contact.

For the past few weeks I've been struggling with an unimaginable pain. One that drugs don't seem to alleviate unless they knock me out. I'm alone most of the day and then my daughters come home and seem to just disappear.

I've thought of suicide many times. I haven't progressed to the plan stage which is a very good thing. But the thought is there. Dave won't understand. He will say that it will get better when I get back to work and get around others. He doesn't like personal issues like this. I would call my psych nurse but she will see me for exactly 15 minutes. Prescribe something and then perhaps have me go check myself in to a facility. That really isn't going to be helpful.

There isn't a moment of the day that I'm not isolating myself now. I'm withdrawing from Dave, which in turn hurts him and makes our marriage definitely rocky to the point of it is VERY bad. I love him but we aren't communicating.

My relationship with my daughters is suffering. How can I connect when I think about leaving them and I've justified it in my mind. Don't call me a coward. Don't tell me how much they need me because they don't. I live with them. They need a wallet with cash and a cell phone and perhaps a ride.

Maybe I'll get through this on my own. Maybe I won't and I'll need help. Maybe just posting this will be enough to give me the strength to see past the pain, know that I'll eventually stop being in agony and I'll find my place again in the world.

Facebook Syndrome

Facebook Syndrome AKA Facebook and the Ever Challenging Social Media Life

 

The past 5 days I have been without my cell phone. At first I literally had a panic attack. What will I do? What if something happens and I can't reach someone or they can't reach me? What if a random pizza delivery driver happens to swerve into an oncoming car, thus creating a fiery inferno, and I can't make that important 911 call?

 

Uh...ya. None of those imagined things came to pass and I'm glad, especially the pizza delivery driver scenario, but it did teach me a valuable lesson. I can live without my cell phone. It has become a crutch that I do love to use but it isn't the end of the world.

 

I also came to a realization about Facebook tonight when I was working on some homework for one of the many classes I take to help keep my mind sharp. It is about social media in the workplace. A decade ago you would not have even really correlated the two entities as being related but trust me...they have.

 

Facebook can break friendships, relationships and cause you to question every single thing about yourself. You see these people who lead super happy lives and then you glance around your messy house and sigh. You aren't taking fabulous vacations. You aren't out with your boyfriend/girlfriend/wife/who the fuck ever. You are at home with your cats. You aren't making those fabulous home cooked extravaganzas. You whipped out the cell phone and ordered from your favorite pizza delivery driver (the one whom did not cause a fiery inferno.)

 

These "friends" of yours are all so happy, fulfilled, raking in money and leading good lives and you are left comparing yourself to them. STOP COMPARING YOURSELF. It is mostly a lie. Of COURSE people are going to put the positive things down. Who is going to be realistic (besides me because I'll put down anything but that is just me) and talk about how their joints ache, they can't poop and their spouse is seeing the pizza delivery driver (the one who probably caused the fiery inferno.)

 

Hello, My name is Shonté and I suffer from Facebook Syndrome. Here is my definition for this very real disease.

Facebook Syndrome: someone who has let a social media site dictate their actions and their feelings. Example: Dude, she has Facebook Syndrome written all over her.

 

Now Facebook Syndrome is closely linked to Spasmodic Facebook Syndrome (SFS for short) which is when someone completely spasms because they cannot compete with their neighbor, their friend did not "Like" or "comment" on a post, or they were unfriended. (Did you know that is now a truly legitimate word? Unfriended is now in the dictionary as of this year. Eh...works for me.)

 

Now being Unfriended is a completely different ballgame than keeping up with all those shiny happy people. People who suck by the way and are completely faking it. No one is THAT happy or on uppers about life all the time. No one has a Molly Freaking Sunshine in their lives that is so insanely happy about her life that she gushes all the time and loooooooves her life and loved ones. My answer to her, or him, is STFU capped off with a two fingered salute.

* Yes this is my more edgy one and I'm perfectly fine with cursing. If you aren't then you shouldn't be reading anything by me. *

Being Unfriended can suck. Wait, it does suck. Everyone gets unfriended from time to time. It might be that you are posting too many game updates and queries. It might be that they just don't know you anymore. It may be that they don't like you. I don't know. I periodically go through and clean my list when I haven't talked to the person ever, or in the last few years. Generally I only do it when someone pisses me off though. I even unfriended my best friend once because I was having a mad fit. It's okay because she then blocked me. AND that is DEFINITELY a different topic. That is like being chained outside your favorite store on Black Friday when everything you love is 99% off. (She was off the Christmas Card list until she sent me birthday flowers and we made up. Or maybe it is because I love her.)

Now why am I bringing this up? Oh yeah. Because I recently found out a work friend? acquanintance? person I pass in the hall? someone I know? (I can't think of what really to call her. We didn't talk much but I did think she had kick ass hair.) Well she unfriended me. It was a hit to the pride. Why? What did I do?

Then I just kinda grinned and said, "Oh well." Because honestly I don't know her. We aren't friends. We were friendly to each other but it has legitimately been two months since I've been to work since my back incident. I'll be going back soon and I'm just enough of a sarcastic bitch that I'll mention it. I'm not mad at her and hopefully if she's cool she will just laugh and say something equally bitchy and sarcastic. That's the way to my heart. It's why me and Kat love each other so much.

 

So here is the thing: If I unfriend you then don't be upset because many times I get in a funk and delete people, convincing myself that I'm finally going off grid and going to get rid of Facebook. Other times i just clean out my list so I can see the people I actively talk to on a regular basis. I'm not a friend collector like my daughters.

The lesson here is don't let social media weigh you down. Don't get mad about what is posted but always feel free to write down what you are thinking and saying provided you are willing to stand up to the oncoming backlash, if there is ever one. It is a lesson you should take with you no matter where you go or what you do.

And if you see my pizza delivery driver...tell him I promise to add him to my Christmas Card list. You keep reading my blogs and you will get to be on it too! Maybe even make the cookie list. :)

Goals and Your End Game

Goals

 

The other day I met a very lovely lady on the plane ride from Atlanta to Portland. Before getting into our conversation let me preface it by stating that typically I ignore my traveling companions unless I already know them. I'm not a plane, train, bus or tram chatter. I am just that way. But for some reason I decided to ask about her line of work.

 

You see the woman beside me was an airline attendant and was on her way to Portland, her home based city, after two exhausting trips to Tokyo for her work shift. The only reason I even knew that was because the working attendant had made a passing comment regarding the lady.

 

I started with the casual conversation starter of, "How long have you been an attendant?"

"40 years," she replied, "And I feel every single one of them." She laughed and I laughed because while she was laughing about the length of time that had flown by, I was laughing about Holy Crap! There is no way in Hell I could last even a month.

We talked about her favorite runs. She loves the Asian stops and hates the UAE. But the conversations became deeper. I asked her why she had chosen that particular line of work and one thing led to another and her statement was, "You have to keep your eyes on your goal."

 

That really spoke to me because lately my eyes have become focused on my long term goal once again. I had forgotten what my End Game was going to be and what I hoped it to be. I am certainly not condeming myself for losing sight but I am a bit perturbed regarding this lack of sight. I am tired of floating through day to day. I do understand that I'm limited in what I do and how fast I do it. That was very evident by my trip home.

 

The trips back East to my childhood home were hellish. It took me at least two days to recover the going to Arkansas and it will probably take three now to recover on the return flight. I'm not going to gripe much because the pain was worth the reward of getting to spend times with some very near and dear friends as well as beloved family members. I just wish I had more time. But it always comes down to that. Time.

 

Is Time on my side with my goals? Am I clear on my goals? The older lady sitting next to me was very wise. She talked to me of being given what I can handle and how I should go about handling it. We both agreed on the Buddhist Philosophy and we both agreed in how unfair it was that two women, or two men, could not marry when it is everyone else can. Every single one of you knows my take on homosexuality and the need for equal rights. It isn't about religion. It is about laws and defending rights.

 

As I sat there waiting to de-board I really reflected on that conversation. How many of you have lost sight of your End Game and your ultimate goal? If you have then don't sweat it but do get back on track. If you haven't then get busy on the rungs of the ladder that will lead you to that goal. I know I have. Lately I have been extremely devoted to finishing my novella. It may not be published. Many of you may not like it but it is something that I must do.

Namasté

Loss of Innocence

Loss of Innocence

 

Life is funny and I am definitely one who has learned to find the humor whenever possible. Even when things are grim, the circumstances are tragic...I've always been the one to try to use humor to help lighten the situation. I guess it has always been that way. Don't get me wrong. There have been and are times in my life when I can't find the funny side. Times when I have fallen and felt like I could not get back up. But with the help of friends, family and a strong will that was genetically passed down to me (and learned) I rubbed some dirt on it and moved on.

 

One of the things, or should I say many things, is when you stop being a child. The exact moments when parts of your innocence is lost. For some people a jaded place takes root. For some it becomes a black tarnish on their soul, aura, and very being. It becomes a hated spot deep inside because the blinders come off.

The first loss of innocence, for me, when a very, very close friend was diagnosed with Leukemia as a teen. I didn't understand it and I didn't cope with it very well. I never visited him in the hospital because I could not face the fact that someone not much older was sick. He died and I still was in denial. At the funeral I sat at the back row of a very packed church. I got up and left because I STILL was in denial. There was NO way someone close to my age, that I loved as a friend and spent a great deal of time with.

I realized that people close to you die but it truly had not hit home yet. That came with the loss of my Papa. I worked at the hospital in the kitchen as my college job, and my mom was my boss. He had been admitted. We knew it was bad but I didn't realize how bad until my mom pulled me into her office and told me that the doctor had given him 6 months to live and it was a brain tumor.

I walked into the hallway, saw my big, burly, larger than life, Paul Bunyan Papa in a wheelchair. I broke down crying. One more piece of innocence lost. They took him home and that is where he remained. For about a month I avoided going to visit which was a RARE thing for me. This was the home I had spent EVERY summer, all summer and every vacation and every weekend I could. This is where I went between college classes to hang out, have lunch etc. I had even lived there for a time. I couldn't face the fact that a man I loved so very, very much was leaving me. I was angry. I was SCARED. I didn't know how to talk to someone who was going to leave and never return.

Another piece of innocence was lost.

I finally did muster the courage to face myself and my fears and I went to him. I went into the bedroom, sat down, and started crying. I apologized for leaving him. He wasn't as big. He had already given up. I hadn't deep inside. There was that spark of hope that this was a mistake on the doctor's part. He waited for me to stop bawling, pulled me close to his hospital bed and said, "I understand. I love you." He forgave me for something that to this exact day I have never forgiven myself for. I didn't miss another day with him until he died. I wasn't there when he died though. I had driven home hurriedly to shower and change. He passed while I was not there. Courtney called me and said, "Shon...get back here now." I knew what had happened.

 

Another piece was gone but this time much, much bigger because mortality hit at that exact moment.

 

If my mom had just lost her father, and later her mother, then....I was going to lose them some day. I cried even more at the funeral. I mourned my Papa leaving me. No more creek trips. No more tractor rides. No more rice hauling trips in his big red semi. No more me fixing him lunch. No more watching baseball with him. But I suddenly realized one day I would lose my parents.

That was the hardest piece of innocence I have ever lost.

 

My Granny died years later and I mourned that I hadn't spent more time with her but I lived hours away, had two kids, a husband, a household and a full time job.

 

My father passed away 11 months ago today. For some reason I did not have my phone next to my bed that night before. But I woke up around 4:00 am. I had many missed calls and tons of text messages telling me to call home. I knew what had happened. I called and Courtney said, "Come home now. Dad is gone." My response was, "No. No. No. No he is NOT gone." I crashed to my knees and Dave came running out. I screamed and I cried. I was over 2000 miles away and I had NOT been there again.  I had visited in August and we had talked but once again we had not really had "THE" conversation that hangs over anyone's head who has a terminal illness. I avoided it. I teased him and we laughed. We watched TV together. He hugged me so many times and I never wanted to let go. My larger than life dad was going to leave me but wait! I still had that spark of hope.

 

It hasn't gotten easier. In fact the last 3 weeks have gotten worse. But today the last of my innocence died. I realized that one day I would lose the woman I love the most in the entire world. The woman who I am more like than anyone else. My sister, Sasha,  inherited Dad's demeanor and ability to dazzle people. I told people at his visitation that I got dad's figure and she got his personality. Courtney is mini-Stan except quieter.

 

But me...I get mom. I understand how she works because I work like her, well except physically because that woman gets stuff done. Oh and she cooks better than anyone I've ever known. I love this woman with my entire heart. There is NOTHING I would not do for her. But eventually I will lose her. Part of me is selfish and wants to go before because then I wouldn't lose that part of my heart and soul.

But then I remember a blog I wrote a few months ago. I pray every single night that I NEVER have to bury one of the girls. I could never survive and would not want to survive if I lost them. So I find myself torn between selfishness and knowing someday my heart will break.

 

My mom will read this and probably tell me she will whip my ass for even thinking that thought.

It is a loss of innocence and a conundrum. You know as you start to grow older that your parents begin to get older as well. No one escapes time. No one. Life moves on.

Next month will be the hardest of the 8th's. It will be one year. I will grieve quietly here 2000+ miles from the rest of my family. I am going back, no matter how painful it will be, on Thursday because I have to go back. It will be hard physically. It will be hard mentally. It will be a very short visit because of doctor visits, more tests and physical therapy that I will immediately return to,  but it is something I have to do for myself.

So if you talk to me next month on the 8th...understand if my voice catches and tears come to my eyes. Just nod but don't tell me you understand. Just let me know you are there for me if I need you. Hug me. Pat me on the shoulder.

 

For those that know what I've been dealing with these past 3 weeks or so, and who actually believe me and don't think it's the medicine, I leave you with this:

"Just when the caterpillar thought her life was over...she became a butterfly."

Namasté

A Letter to Other Parents (or Potential Parents)

A Letter to Other Parents (Potential Parents)

 

I have realized, as my daughters have gotten older, that there are three types of parents. Others will argue that this is a blanket statement but they can shut it. If you disagree then prove it. Otherwise I'll stick to my guns on this one. There are three types of parent categories that a parent can unwittingly fall into.

1) The Friend

This is a DANGEROUS category of parenting. It means to know all the details of your child's life and you'll say, do, or be anything they want just to show you are the "cool" parent. You are the parent that lets your kid and her friends drink at home (because it is better to drink at home than out on the road...right?) You let them do whatever they want because you do not want them to dislike you. You're their buddy. You're the parent that attacks other kids, and often encourages it, on social media. You are your daughter's bestie for the restie.

My answer: Fuck that shit. (Excuse the language for those that do not know I cuss like a sailor on shore leave in Bankok) It's okay, to a reasonable degree, to let your child break loose at home on occasion. To let them break the boundaries and be able to tell you the important things. But you do not want to know all the details and you shouldn't. There will, hopefully, come a time when they want to be your friend and can talk to you about the important things. The reality is that no matter how close you think you are to your daughter or son...you aren't. You don't look cool hanging out with them. You look desperate. Remember that mom on "Mean Girls?" That's you. Ya...pathetic. You are a grownup. Act like one and don't try to be the best friend of your child.

2) The Absent Parent

This is the saddest parent of all. I'd much rather see a #1 than this category. This is the parent who just doesn't care what their child does. Or this is the parent that wants to punish all the time simply because they do not want to deal with the kid. They want to live their lives and forget that they have replicas living under their own roof that will someday be the same way to their children unless they are able to break that vicious cycle. This parent doesn't care if the kid drinks as long as they don't get busted because they don't want to take the time to educate the child on waiting and being responsible. This parent is out partying, living life, driving a two seat sports car because they want more for themselves than they want for those symbioses mooching off them at home. They just want them out.

3) The Parents who will get their Heart Broken but eventually have great kids.

This is the category that most, if not all, my friends and family fall into. It is the parents that love their children enough to say "No" and to mean it. These are the parents that will watch their little Tinkerbell grow up into a petulant teen that will lash out and hurt you to your very core. These are the parents that are strict enough that they will eventually hear "I hate you." Teens that will swear you know nothing about what they are going through and that you never listen, that you don't know the pressure they are under or even the slightest detail of their lives unless it is something they have done wrong. Even when the parents can silently list every single boyfriend/girlfriend, class load, friend, etc. These are the parents that will cry at night because they are afraid they aren't doing something right, can't give their children more than they had growing up or that they have lost their children. These are the parents that worry about their child's friends influencing them. They gripe about the kids that want to party because they are afraid of losing their child in an accident. These are the parents that once said, "My child is not going to be that way" and then later have to eat their words. These are the parents that get so mad and frustrated that they call their own parents and apologize for everything they did as teens and say, "You were right and I was wrong." These are the parents that start out with lofty goals of having a prodigy and teaching them the "right" way only to find out that parenting is a learned skill.  There is NOTHING in a book that will prepare you or give you the guidance you need. These parents have to be accommodating and flexible. Things never go as planned.

 

I've met parents in the 1 & 2 category and unfortunately there is nothing you can ever say to make them change their mind. That is their way. I've met some that are so over protective that the children eventually rebel as soon as they are able and become walking/talking terrors to the rest of the world.

 

The point is that there is no happy medium. #3 category is where most people fall. It hurts when your teen becomes her/his own person. It hurts to see them cry over a crush and to experience their first heartbreak but it has to happen. It hurts to see them fail but it has to happen. That is life. Life is about falling and having the will power and courage to stand right up again. "Rub some dirt on it." The greatest thing about being a parent, though, is knowing that no matter what your child does...you will always love him or her. Nothing can ever change it. You may not like them at times, and that is TOTALLY normal. You may want to lock them in a cage...just don't do it because CPS might frown on it but it is totally okay if you want to lock yourself in your bedroom to escape. Don't feel bad about wanting a vacation by yourself. Don't feel bad about needing a night out on the town every once in a while. Don't feel bad about needing that glass (ahem...bottle sometimes) of wine to combat their whine. Get a hobby and don't center your life around your kid's life. Don't limit yourself to friend's that only interact in some way currently, or in the past, with your child. Don't spend every moment of your free time with your child, unless they are a newborn (and even then get some alone time or you'll go freaking nuts eventually).

 

You are going to mess up. You are going to say the wrong thing. You may even lash out and say something you don't mean. All it takes is an apology.

Want to know my secret? I slip notes into my daughters' books for them to find at a later date. Notes that let them know I love them and that I do notice their achievements along with their failures. Notes that mention a certain boy. Notes that remind them of something funny they once did as a little kid. Or they are notes that just let them know how much I love them. Notes are my way of communicating, as evident by the fact that I am far more eloquent writing than in real life. I do my best but I'm learning as I go. And as I've said many times...I may not survive the teen years. Namasté my friends.