I apologize in advance for such a sleezy joke, but I nearly peed myself when I read it...
Do you know how to tell if a man is well hung?
His face will be blue, his eyes will be bulging and his mouth won't be running!!!
Wasn't that awful ? !!!
Monday, August 20, 2007
Adultery & Regret & Stains That Won't Come Out
Less I come across as "preachy", allow me to say I am only writing from my own personal experience.
I never set out to commit adultery 8 years ago. That was never the plan in my mind. I did not wake up one morning and think, “Gee. I think I’ll begin a quest to ruin countless lives today”. Like so many people have said before me, it just happened.
When I had been in my first marriage for 24 years, somewhere in the cobwebs of my mind, I got to thinking that there was something I was missing out on. I began thinking things like; how I married so young I never had a chance to live, and how I never really dated and how I missed out on having a social life.
My children were well up in their teen years and in my mind no longer needed me. Matter of fact my oldest had already moved out. My baby was a senior. I felt used up…hollow. We had been foster-parents, I had done volunteer work, received awards for the volunteer work, PTA, taken up hobbies, etc. Nothing was filling the void I was finding inside me now though.
My marriage had not been the best of them. There had been physical abuse in the earlier years, but we had gotten past all that and were finally getting to the point where we could have time to ourselves. We had never had a time we were just a couple since our firstborn arrived 7 months after we married…I was 16…he was 20. We had all grown up together. As far as “real world” circumstances, we were about as content as a couple could hope to be I suppose. Maybe comfortable would be a better word.
I had been a housewife through most of my marriage. Actually all but about 3 years of it I had stayed home. I didn’t want to have to worry about my kids before and after school and my husband didn’t want me to work, so my being a housewife worked out well. In February of that last year though, I felt like I was either going to go to work, have another baby, or lose my mind.
The time alone every day was just destroying me. My oldest was gone. My baby came home after school just long enough to change clothes and would then leave for work. I didn’t seem to have a purpose any longer. Maybe my illness was digging in it’s heels about that time too. I honestly believe the bipolar played a part in all this. Regardless, that’s when I went back to work “outside the home” as they used to say.
Then I met “Joe” (not his real name of course). Joe was my supervisor. I worked the midnight till 8am shift. Joe, who managed several locations and didn’t have to even be out at night, began spending a lot of time with me, just hanging around and joking and talking. We had a lot in common as far as our backgrounds and he would talk about his wife and kids and I would talk about mine.
At this point it is important for you to know, that I never had much self-esteem. When I looked (look) in the mirror all I could (can) see was fat and frumpy. I had been fat since my first pregnancy. I have PCOS and one of the manifestations of that is hirsutism and I had that too. I had been a housewife for 20 of 24 years and had not been around people much other than at church for a few hours each week.
When “Joe” began showing even more interest in me, I was just amazed. He was handsome. I mean out of a magazine handsome. He was a former cop, like I was. He WANTED to hear my cop stories – my husband had NEVER wanted to hear them. Joe was your typical tall, dark and handsome. He was so tender, yet he was all man. Very masculine. He was also 4 years younger than me, yet he was interested in me. I was absolutely swept away.
I though for the longest I was imagining things. I just KNEW he couldn’t really be interested in me; it had to be my mind playing tricks on me. Then he began asking me to go places with him. He began spending more and more nights with me on my job. It was obvious things were not going well at home otherwise he wouldn’t have been free to be away so much. I guess that’s one of the things I held onto when trying to justify in my mind what I was about to be involved in…because I knew it was coming.
Just before things became more serious, we had a conversation. We both knew the other was married. We both knew that situation was not going to change. We both understood we were not looking to change our circumstances…that we would never leave our kids nor our spouses. Before we actually made love the first time, there were a couple of times that we actually began and stopped before…uh…completing the deed. Neither of us had ever been unfaithful before.
I won’t sit here and tell you it was all horrible and unpleasant and completely a negative experience. There were many pleasures. It was awesome experiencing that feeling of “newness” and freshness; of someone wanting me even though I was fat and didn’t feel very “wanted”, yearning for me, touching me. The long, long conversations. I believe we each told secrets we had not shared with others. Having married so young, this was my first time as an adult falling in love with someone.
That first kiss; the first time he told me he loved me; the first time we made love…all those were beautiful and even now, knowing how much pain was caused, those things still bring a flutter in my heart. The memory of his face, of his voice, the scent of his cologne, the way he held my hair to his face that first time we kissed.
Joe and I had breakfast together most weekdays. Lunch a lot of days. Not very many suppers. Married people cannot do supper very well. That would be too obvious.
I will never forget one day I had ridden with him on a short business trip and his wife called. Neither of us had ever experienced that before. Neither of us had ever talked to our spouse in front of each other. As soon as I realized it was her on the other side of the phone, I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up. It was the most horrible feeling in the world, or so I thought….but when the words “I love you too” passed from his lips into the phone to her ears, I almost vomited in his car.
I guess until that point and time, I had pictured her as some unfeeling, cold frigid mean woman who had “changed” after marrying him. Hearing him say “I love you too” to her forced me to believe that what we had talked about was true.
Our “affair” went on for 6 months. It ended one morning when we went to breakfast, he kissed me good-bye and said, “I’ll talk to you in a little while”, as was our usual routine. I never heard from him again. My phone didn’t ring and I never called his.
We had discussed ending it because of the misery we were caught up in when we were apart. Neither of us wanted to hurt anyone else and with every passing day we were risking that happening. I didn’t expect it to end that day though. So suddenly. So abruptly. I did by chance talk to him one time since that day. He said he knew it was coming to an end and he didn’t do “good-byes” well.
In the aftermath, although we were never “caught” during our affair, it did become known after it was all over with. My marriage was already over when it came to light, his damaged after she found out.
Maybe it is different for men, but I could never look at my husband the same once I had been with another man. Finally, I left. The pain I caused, in my own heart as well in others’ unfortunately will never leave completely. My husband of 24 years, the man I grew up with, was very hurt by my carelessness. By the decision I made the night I decided to go through with this affair. My son has had nothing to do with me since I left his daddy 8 years ago. There is no telling what effect I will never know about on down the road with my children, or Joe’s children.
Affair seems like such an innocuous little word. It seems so small and happy. Almost like a little party or get-together. ADULTERY...now that words seems to say right out loud how horrible and awful and sinful it truly is. How hurtful and demeaning.
Some of you will be very offended by this post. I don't blame you at all. There has not a day passed in 8 years that the thoughts of what I caused not rifled through my mind. There are days, many of them, that I consider the only time I will ever truly forgive myself is when I am no longer on this earth breathing. I may have written this rather light heartedly, but please know it wasn't as light hearted as it sounded.
There was a time in my life, when I was younger, I would use the term "never". There was a time I thought I was incapable of inflicting the kind of pain this caused. I've learned not to use the word "never" again.
I guess what I am stumbling around here trying to say, is that no matter how much greener that grass seems…and it may be greener, but it can leave stains that will never go away.
I never set out to commit adultery 8 years ago. That was never the plan in my mind. I did not wake up one morning and think, “Gee. I think I’ll begin a quest to ruin countless lives today”. Like so many people have said before me, it just happened.
When I had been in my first marriage for 24 years, somewhere in the cobwebs of my mind, I got to thinking that there was something I was missing out on. I began thinking things like; how I married so young I never had a chance to live, and how I never really dated and how I missed out on having a social life.
My children were well up in their teen years and in my mind no longer needed me. Matter of fact my oldest had already moved out. My baby was a senior. I felt used up…hollow. We had been foster-parents, I had done volunteer work, received awards for the volunteer work, PTA, taken up hobbies, etc. Nothing was filling the void I was finding inside me now though.
My marriage had not been the best of them. There had been physical abuse in the earlier years, but we had gotten past all that and were finally getting to the point where we could have time to ourselves. We had never had a time we were just a couple since our firstborn arrived 7 months after we married…I was 16…he was 20. We had all grown up together. As far as “real world” circumstances, we were about as content as a couple could hope to be I suppose. Maybe comfortable would be a better word.
I had been a housewife through most of my marriage. Actually all but about 3 years of it I had stayed home. I didn’t want to have to worry about my kids before and after school and my husband didn’t want me to work, so my being a housewife worked out well. In February of that last year though, I felt like I was either going to go to work, have another baby, or lose my mind.
The time alone every day was just destroying me. My oldest was gone. My baby came home after school just long enough to change clothes and would then leave for work. I didn’t seem to have a purpose any longer. Maybe my illness was digging in it’s heels about that time too. I honestly believe the bipolar played a part in all this. Regardless, that’s when I went back to work “outside the home” as they used to say.
Then I met “Joe” (not his real name of course). Joe was my supervisor. I worked the midnight till 8am shift. Joe, who managed several locations and didn’t have to even be out at night, began spending a lot of time with me, just hanging around and joking and talking. We had a lot in common as far as our backgrounds and he would talk about his wife and kids and I would talk about mine.
At this point it is important for you to know, that I never had much self-esteem. When I looked (look) in the mirror all I could (can) see was fat and frumpy. I had been fat since my first pregnancy. I have PCOS and one of the manifestations of that is hirsutism and I had that too. I had been a housewife for 20 of 24 years and had not been around people much other than at church for a few hours each week.
When “Joe” began showing even more interest in me, I was just amazed. He was handsome. I mean out of a magazine handsome. He was a former cop, like I was. He WANTED to hear my cop stories – my husband had NEVER wanted to hear them. Joe was your typical tall, dark and handsome. He was so tender, yet he was all man. Very masculine. He was also 4 years younger than me, yet he was interested in me. I was absolutely swept away.
I though for the longest I was imagining things. I just KNEW he couldn’t really be interested in me; it had to be my mind playing tricks on me. Then he began asking me to go places with him. He began spending more and more nights with me on my job. It was obvious things were not going well at home otherwise he wouldn’t have been free to be away so much. I guess that’s one of the things I held onto when trying to justify in my mind what I was about to be involved in…because I knew it was coming.
Just before things became more serious, we had a conversation. We both knew the other was married. We both knew that situation was not going to change. We both understood we were not looking to change our circumstances…that we would never leave our kids nor our spouses. Before we actually made love the first time, there were a couple of times that we actually began and stopped before…uh…completing the deed. Neither of us had ever been unfaithful before.
I won’t sit here and tell you it was all horrible and unpleasant and completely a negative experience. There were many pleasures. It was awesome experiencing that feeling of “newness” and freshness; of someone wanting me even though I was fat and didn’t feel very “wanted”, yearning for me, touching me. The long, long conversations. I believe we each told secrets we had not shared with others. Having married so young, this was my first time as an adult falling in love with someone.
That first kiss; the first time he told me he loved me; the first time we made love…all those were beautiful and even now, knowing how much pain was caused, those things still bring a flutter in my heart. The memory of his face, of his voice, the scent of his cologne, the way he held my hair to his face that first time we kissed.
Joe and I had breakfast together most weekdays. Lunch a lot of days. Not very many suppers. Married people cannot do supper very well. That would be too obvious.
I will never forget one day I had ridden with him on a short business trip and his wife called. Neither of us had ever experienced that before. Neither of us had ever talked to our spouse in front of each other. As soon as I realized it was her on the other side of the phone, I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up. It was the most horrible feeling in the world, or so I thought….but when the words “I love you too” passed from his lips into the phone to her ears, I almost vomited in his car.
I guess until that point and time, I had pictured her as some unfeeling, cold frigid mean woman who had “changed” after marrying him. Hearing him say “I love you too” to her forced me to believe that what we had talked about was true.
Our “affair” went on for 6 months. It ended one morning when we went to breakfast, he kissed me good-bye and said, “I’ll talk to you in a little while”, as was our usual routine. I never heard from him again. My phone didn’t ring and I never called his.
We had discussed ending it because of the misery we were caught up in when we were apart. Neither of us wanted to hurt anyone else and with every passing day we were risking that happening. I didn’t expect it to end that day though. So suddenly. So abruptly. I did by chance talk to him one time since that day. He said he knew it was coming to an end and he didn’t do “good-byes” well.
In the aftermath, although we were never “caught” during our affair, it did become known after it was all over with. My marriage was already over when it came to light, his damaged after she found out.
Maybe it is different for men, but I could never look at my husband the same once I had been with another man. Finally, I left. The pain I caused, in my own heart as well in others’ unfortunately will never leave completely. My husband of 24 years, the man I grew up with, was very hurt by my carelessness. By the decision I made the night I decided to go through with this affair. My son has had nothing to do with me since I left his daddy 8 years ago. There is no telling what effect I will never know about on down the road with my children, or Joe’s children.
Affair seems like such an innocuous little word. It seems so small and happy. Almost like a little party or get-together. ADULTERY...now that words seems to say right out loud how horrible and awful and sinful it truly is. How hurtful and demeaning.
Some of you will be very offended by this post. I don't blame you at all. There has not a day passed in 8 years that the thoughts of what I caused not rifled through my mind. There are days, many of them, that I consider the only time I will ever truly forgive myself is when I am no longer on this earth breathing. I may have written this rather light heartedly, but please know it wasn't as light hearted as it sounded.
There was a time in my life, when I was younger, I would use the term "never". There was a time I thought I was incapable of inflicting the kind of pain this caused. I've learned not to use the word "never" again.
I guess what I am stumbling around here trying to say, is that no matter how much greener that grass seems…and it may be greener, but it can leave stains that will never go away.
Friday, August 17, 2007
Grandsnake Mudd and Granny
My head has been temporarily removed in order to remain anonymous.
This is Mudd. Mudd is one of my grandsnakes. My dear child and her husband do snake rescue.
I had never been a snake person myself, but they are okay.
I'd not do well owning one since I would be very uncomfortable dropping a live animal in there every week knowing it would soon me someone's lunch.
Other than that, they're pretty cool.
Smoking, Sex and Menthol Cigarettes
First off, let me assure you this post will NOT be about sex. Well, maybe just a tad about sex, but mostly NOT about sex.
I have not smoked since December 31 of 2006. It has been 7 months, 17 days and 7 hours and 50 minutes. I could smoke one right now in one puff! I might choke to death, but I really want to smoke.
I am weighing my options...I am 46, smoked already for 25 years. Is the damage not already done? I have metabolic syndrome/PCOS whatever they are referring to it now as. I have had hypertension since way back when I was 34 years old and in fairly good shape. I have in the past two months been diagnosed with diabetes AND bipolar and have developed some weird allergy problems since I quit smoking.
If I am destined to die early anyway, I really don't see the point in not smoking as long as I don't inflict it on anyone else.
Oh, and as far as the sex, it's been about that long since I had any of that too! Sick husband, don't ya know?
Ahhhhhhhh...my fantasy...good hot sex with a nice menthol cigarette afterwards.....or during. Hey, I'm not picky.
sighhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
I have not smoked since December 31 of 2006. It has been 7 months, 17 days and 7 hours and 50 minutes. I could smoke one right now in one puff! I might choke to death, but I really want to smoke.
I am weighing my options...I am 46, smoked already for 25 years. Is the damage not already done? I have metabolic syndrome/PCOS whatever they are referring to it now as. I have had hypertension since way back when I was 34 years old and in fairly good shape. I have in the past two months been diagnosed with diabetes AND bipolar and have developed some weird allergy problems since I quit smoking.
If I am destined to die early anyway, I really don't see the point in not smoking as long as I don't inflict it on anyone else.
Oh, and as far as the sex, it's been about that long since I had any of that too! Sick husband, don't ya know?
Ahhhhhhhh...my fantasy...good hot sex with a nice menthol cigarette afterwards.....or during. Hey, I'm not picky.
sighhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
Living With Bipolar
I’ve been reading a new blog lately. It is The Shape of Days and the article that touched me enough to make me want to read further was For Those of You Living With Someone With Personality Disorder . I am Bipolar having just been diagnosed a couple of weeks ago. This writer was able to put into words feelings and thoughts I have had my entire life.
Several readers had asked this writer if he had advice for living with people with this disorder after he had written an article letting his readers know he had been diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder. His answers, including how his mind works and how he thinks, were eerily familiar to me.
Here is an example of what he said:
People like me live in constant fear of abandonment. We are deeply distrustful. We don’t think you love us, or care about us, or even enjoy our company on a superficial level because we know how we are. We’re aware of it. We know we’re manipulative. We know we’re selfish. We know we’re mean and rude and all those things.
That just blew my mind. I don’t think I have ever trusted anyone. I am on my second marriage at 46 and my biggest fear with both husbands is (or has been) that one day they just plain wouldn’t come home. When they do come home, I am thinking of all the reasons why they did because I KNOW it cannot be because they love me or enjoy my company, hell who could once they really know me?
When people are nice to me, I wonder whats “really” behind their actions. What is it they are wanting? What have they done behind my back that they think I am about to find out about? Anytime someone in my office is speaking low and close their office door in order to have privacy I am CONVINCED they are talking about me.
Several readers had asked this writer if he had advice for living with people with this disorder after he had written an article letting his readers know he had been diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder. His answers, including how his mind works and how he thinks, were eerily familiar to me.
Here is an example of what he said:
People like me live in constant fear of abandonment. We are deeply distrustful. We don’t think you love us, or care about us, or even enjoy our company on a superficial level because we know how we are. We’re aware of it. We know we’re manipulative. We know we’re selfish. We know we’re mean and rude and all those things.
That just blew my mind. I don’t think I have ever trusted anyone. I am on my second marriage at 46 and my biggest fear with both husbands is (or has been) that one day they just plain wouldn’t come home. When they do come home, I am thinking of all the reasons why they did because I KNOW it cannot be because they love me or enjoy my company, hell who could once they really know me?
When people are nice to me, I wonder whats “really” behind their actions. What is it they are wanting? What have they done behind my back that they think I am about to find out about? Anytime someone in my office is speaking low and close their office door in order to have privacy I am CONVINCED they are talking about me.
Another point he made was this:
We start out by becoming swiftly and overwhelmingly attached to you. Maybe romantically, maybe platonically. We entrust you with our secrets, which are legion since we have so much to be ashamed of. We want you to entrust us with your secrets. We get close, fast.
I have always been that way. Be it a new friend, a new work associate or a new lover, I think I must tell them everything, at once. All the dirt, all the past, everything. I can feel myself telling too much too soon and just have this compelling urge to forge ahead.
Maybe, at least in my case, it is to be sure this person knows the smut, knows how really stupid and bad a person I am so they can really know what they are getting into. I am much better about this now than I was a couple of years back though – it has taken a conscious effort – but I am better in this area.
I encourage you to visit this blog and read this article, especially if your someone you love has BPD or Bipolar disorder.
Peace ya'll !
COBRA, Medical Insurance and the Poor House
Well, the time is drawing nigh…after September 30th my husband will no longer have medical insurance.
He lost his insurance in March of 2006 when he was laid off at his job and has been on COBRA since then, but in our state, you can only be on COBRA for 18 months. I’m not sure why since we’re paying every dime of the premium, but that is the rule.
We have called all the “big” insurance companies and probably most of the “little” ones. We’ve had an independent agent researching for us and he basically came back and said my husband in uninsurable because of all the pre-existing conditions he has.
He is 53. He has worked a full time job since he was 15 years old, including all throughout high school and college. He didn’t work his childhood years so he could buy a car or take his dates out to fancy restaurants, he did it so he could put groceries on the table for his parents and himself and so he could pay their mortgage payments. You see, his dad had his first major heart attack at 45 and was dead by 53.
So now here he is, same age as his daddy when he died, about to lose his insurance. Whose fault is it that he will soon have no insurance? He didn’t do anything wrong to lose his job, it was a financial decision on the employers part.
He has went back to work at another company since the lay off, but despite sending out better than 60 resumes and beating the streets non-stop, he has not found a job that offers any benefits that will help in his situation.
The insurance he has been offered at his current job has a “cap” of $1000 a year on prescriptions!?! He takes more than that in a month! The cap on medical is equally ridiculous but I cannot remember the rates right off hand. Is it his fault because he has several chronic illness’ that make him uninsurable? In addition to his dad having heart problems at a young age, his only sibling, a brother, had his first stroke in his 40’s. What about his family history? Does that play a part? Who is to blame for that?
I just can’t see any reason all this is through any fault of his and that is what a lot of people would have the public believe, that the uninsured are in the position they are in because they are lazy, fat uneducated slobs. That just ain’t always so.
Are we supposed to spend all our money on “medical” until we lose our small modest home? Then who will we be a burden on???
The only answer we can come up with, and I feel horrible even saying it out loud, but if we divorce, then my income would not be counted and he may qualify for some of the drug programs out there and possibly help for his medical care. I don’t see that we have any other choice and I loathe lying and dishonesty but at what point do you leave your morals behind and do whatever it takes to survive?
It is not quite as cut and dry, nor as black and white, as some bloggers would have us believe.
He lost his insurance in March of 2006 when he was laid off at his job and has been on COBRA since then, but in our state, you can only be on COBRA for 18 months. I’m not sure why since we’re paying every dime of the premium, but that is the rule.
We have called all the “big” insurance companies and probably most of the “little” ones. We’ve had an independent agent researching for us and he basically came back and said my husband in uninsurable because of all the pre-existing conditions he has.
He is 53. He has worked a full time job since he was 15 years old, including all throughout high school and college. He didn’t work his childhood years so he could buy a car or take his dates out to fancy restaurants, he did it so he could put groceries on the table for his parents and himself and so he could pay their mortgage payments. You see, his dad had his first major heart attack at 45 and was dead by 53.
So now here he is, same age as his daddy when he died, about to lose his insurance. Whose fault is it that he will soon have no insurance? He didn’t do anything wrong to lose his job, it was a financial decision on the employers part.
He has went back to work at another company since the lay off, but despite sending out better than 60 resumes and beating the streets non-stop, he has not found a job that offers any benefits that will help in his situation.
The insurance he has been offered at his current job has a “cap” of $1000 a year on prescriptions!?! He takes more than that in a month! The cap on medical is equally ridiculous but I cannot remember the rates right off hand. Is it his fault because he has several chronic illness’ that make him uninsurable? In addition to his dad having heart problems at a young age, his only sibling, a brother, had his first stroke in his 40’s. What about his family history? Does that play a part? Who is to blame for that?
I just can’t see any reason all this is through any fault of his and that is what a lot of people would have the public believe, that the uninsured are in the position they are in because they are lazy, fat uneducated slobs. That just ain’t always so.
Are we supposed to spend all our money on “medical” until we lose our small modest home? Then who will we be a burden on???
The only answer we can come up with, and I feel horrible even saying it out loud, but if we divorce, then my income would not be counted and he may qualify for some of the drug programs out there and possibly help for his medical care. I don’t see that we have any other choice and I loathe lying and dishonesty but at what point do you leave your morals behind and do whatever it takes to survive?
It is not quite as cut and dry, nor as black and white, as some bloggers would have us believe.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Katrina & Pets
I made the mistake today of going back online and looking at some Katrina photographs. There are so many subjects within those pictures that you could write a hundred stories about a hundred different subjects. I want to write about the animals I saw in the pictures.
I know the human loss was horrible. I have cried many tears for all the families who lost someone. I go to church with a lady who moved here after her only blood relative was killed during Katrina, her only child, a son. I can remember hearing the stories about the people who would not leave because they wouldn’t leave their pets behind. I heard many nasty remarks about how “stupid” that was of them to die rather than leave a dog or a cat.
Some of those pictures I looked at were no doubt reunions between human and pet. The looks on the peoples' faces spoke volumes. Some of the pictures were people in boats holding tightly to their dogs. A few were people in waist high water carrying their pets. Most of them though were of abandoned pets, their eyes crying for help, for food and "their person".
I thought long and hard back during and right after Katrina about this. There have been times I have sit and talked with a friend about, "Well, if that happened to me, this is what I would do". Most of the time though, I don't think we're sure what we would do in certain situations unless we are put in those positions. Leaving my pets behind is not one of them. Under no circumstances would I leave my precious friends behind.
My little dog, my three cats, my rats, they are faithful and have such a pure unconditional love for me how could I ever look them in their little trusting eyes and walk away? What would I have? I would be alive. My body would be warm and my heart would be beating. I would continue breathing and going through all the motions, but my mind would never be the same knowing that I walked away and left my babies to die horribly, alone and scared.
I am a former cop. I thought a lot back then about the things I “knew” I would do if such and such happened on my job, and the things I just didn’t have a clue what I would really do unless I was put in the situation. This dilema however is one of those things people refer to as a “no brainer”.
Leaving my pets behind or staying and possibly dying with them…..?
That one is a “no brainer".
I know the human loss was horrible. I have cried many tears for all the families who lost someone. I go to church with a lady who moved here after her only blood relative was killed during Katrina, her only child, a son. I can remember hearing the stories about the people who would not leave because they wouldn’t leave their pets behind. I heard many nasty remarks about how “stupid” that was of them to die rather than leave a dog or a cat.
Some of those pictures I looked at were no doubt reunions between human and pet. The looks on the peoples' faces spoke volumes. Some of the pictures were people in boats holding tightly to their dogs. A few were people in waist high water carrying their pets. Most of them though were of abandoned pets, their eyes crying for help, for food and "their person".
I thought long and hard back during and right after Katrina about this. There have been times I have sit and talked with a friend about, "Well, if that happened to me, this is what I would do". Most of the time though, I don't think we're sure what we would do in certain situations unless we are put in those positions. Leaving my pets behind is not one of them. Under no circumstances would I leave my precious friends behind.
My little dog, my three cats, my rats, they are faithful and have such a pure unconditional love for me how could I ever look them in their little trusting eyes and walk away? What would I have? I would be alive. My body would be warm and my heart would be beating. I would continue breathing and going through all the motions, but my mind would never be the same knowing that I walked away and left my babies to die horribly, alone and scared.
I am a former cop. I thought a lot back then about the things I “knew” I would do if such and such happened on my job, and the things I just didn’t have a clue what I would really do unless I was put in the situation. This dilema however is one of those things people refer to as a “no brainer”.
Leaving my pets behind or staying and possibly dying with them…..?
That one is a “no brainer".
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Lamictal & My Shrink
I went to my shrink. I took a copy of an online bipolar test that I had taken with me. He asked some questions, discussed my uncle who hung himself in his 40's when I was nine. Doc seems to agree that I am probably bipolar and have been this entire time I have been treated for depression alone. Misdiagnosed for 15 years.
The average number of years for a person with bipolar to be treated in error for depression is 10+ years.
He put me on Lamictal and doubled my Cymbalta. I've been on the Lamictal for 2 weeks and 2 days now. Very slow titration. So far I have had a few ulcers in my mouth but no other symptoms so I haven't called him. Seems there is this rather nasty and dangerous rash 1 in 10,000 people get from Lamictal.
I have my fingers crossed that the blisters don't get worse and no other side effects present themselves. I really want this to work. I really am ready to be normal.
If you were to look back through my BLOG, bipolar sure would explain some of the dumb things I've done over my lifetime.
It also explains why sometimes I can sit down and the words just pour out of my fingers like fluid and sometimes I couldn't put two good sentences together if you held a gun to my head.
Having such a diagnosis pinned on you is still embarrassing since that stigma still exists, but it also explains just enough that I think maybe I wasn't as horrible a person as I thought I was; and that is a load off my shoulders.
The average number of years for a person with bipolar to be treated in error for depression is 10+ years.
He put me on Lamictal and doubled my Cymbalta. I've been on the Lamictal for 2 weeks and 2 days now. Very slow titration. So far I have had a few ulcers in my mouth but no other symptoms so I haven't called him. Seems there is this rather nasty and dangerous rash 1 in 10,000 people get from Lamictal.
I have my fingers crossed that the blisters don't get worse and no other side effects present themselves. I really want this to work. I really am ready to be normal.
If you were to look back through my BLOG, bipolar sure would explain some of the dumb things I've done over my lifetime.
It also explains why sometimes I can sit down and the words just pour out of my fingers like fluid and sometimes I couldn't put two good sentences together if you held a gun to my head.
Having such a diagnosis pinned on you is still embarrassing since that stigma still exists, but it also explains just enough that I think maybe I wasn't as horrible a person as I thought I was; and that is a load off my shoulders.
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
A Visit to the Shrink
I broke down today and made an appointment with my shrink.
This is not "just" depression. This has got to be bipolar. I asked him a year ago could I be. He asked if I had lost my families money on spending sprees or gone to jail for wild behavior and I said no and he said that I must not be bipolar then. From what I've read, your manias do not have to be that "high"to be considered bipolar.
I really don't care what the title or the diagnosis is...I just don't want to be taking a pill and it be the wrong one. I just don't want to have to start finding ways to convince myself every single day WHY I should continue to live, and I'd really like to have better control over these other little troublesome tid-bits that have popped up lately.
According to the articles from the journals that know...most people with bipolar are misdiagnosed for an average of 10 years. The reason is suspected to be that when a bipolar person is manic they don't go to the doctor to complain. Only when we're depressed do we "see" something is wrong. Most bipolars who are on only anti-depressants do not find relief from them. I know I've been from one to the next to the other over this period of 15 years. If they work at all, they stop after anywhere from 1-3.5 years.
I have taken 3 or 4 online tests and they all point to bipolar. Having now read what to look for, how in the world did I miss this all these years? How many times I have said to myself, "I can't believe I said that" or "I can't believe I did that". Those things weren't me...I just thought I was losing my mind. Maybe I still am, but at least now I'm pretty sure it has a name...kinds of makes it less shameful when you have a reason for going crazy hunh?
This is not "just" depression. This has got to be bipolar. I asked him a year ago could I be. He asked if I had lost my families money on spending sprees or gone to jail for wild behavior and I said no and he said that I must not be bipolar then. From what I've read, your manias do not have to be that "high"to be considered bipolar.
I really don't care what the title or the diagnosis is...I just don't want to be taking a pill and it be the wrong one. I just don't want to have to start finding ways to convince myself every single day WHY I should continue to live, and I'd really like to have better control over these other little troublesome tid-bits that have popped up lately.
According to the articles from the journals that know...most people with bipolar are misdiagnosed for an average of 10 years. The reason is suspected to be that when a bipolar person is manic they don't go to the doctor to complain. Only when we're depressed do we "see" something is wrong. Most bipolars who are on only anti-depressants do not find relief from them. I know I've been from one to the next to the other over this period of 15 years. If they work at all, they stop after anywhere from 1-3.5 years.
I have taken 3 or 4 online tests and they all point to bipolar. Having now read what to look for, how in the world did I miss this all these years? How many times I have said to myself, "I can't believe I said that" or "I can't believe I did that". Those things weren't me...I just thought I was losing my mind. Maybe I still am, but at least now I'm pretty sure it has a name...kinds of makes it less shameful when you have a reason for going crazy hunh?
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Accidents
Her mom told her at age 8 that she was an accident She and her dad really didn't want any more kids.
At 46, those words still haunt her.
AN ACCIDENT ??
It's a good thing God didn't think so.
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
How Gross Are you??
| You Are 52% Gross |
 You're more than a little gross, but probably no more gross than the average person. Maybe it's time to drop some of those disgusting habits that could eventually embarrass you! |
I kind of thought I might hit 30% or so...but 52 ??!!??!!
I guarantee its because of that doggy smooching too ! They just haven't ever seen a dog as sweet and loving as my Thomas !
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Free on Bond
I saw this while checking out newspapers on the internet recently:
COLUMBIA, S.C. -- A man is dead and a woman injured after a shooting Wednesday outside a mall in Columbia. Police said the shooting happened around 6:45 p.m. in the parking lot in front of the mall's main entrance.
Columbia Police Chief Dean Crisp said a man who was stalking a woman confronted her at the mall, then followed her into the parking lot. He said the man then shot the woman and her father. Authorities say the 49-year-old father of the young woman was shot several times and died at the scene.
The daughter was taken to the hospital, where she was able to talk to investigators. Police have not released her name.
Police identified the shooter as 21-year-old “John Doe”, who was free on bond after being arrested last week and charged with stalking the woman. Police say “Doe” was last seen driving away in a green Honda Accord.
Did you get the second to last sentence??? The one where it says he was free on bond after being arrested LAST FRIGGING WEEK for stalking this woman!?!?!
Do ya have any idea how many women die holding a restraining order in their hands?
I don't even know how to respond...there are not even words. I was stalked when I ended a 24 year marriage. My situation was not taken seriously either, fortunately, my daddy is still alive.
COLUMBIA, S.C. -- A man is dead and a woman injured after a shooting Wednesday outside a mall in Columbia. Police said the shooting happened around 6:45 p.m. in the parking lot in front of the mall's main entrance.
Columbia Police Chief Dean Crisp said a man who was stalking a woman confronted her at the mall, then followed her into the parking lot. He said the man then shot the woman and her father. Authorities say the 49-year-old father of the young woman was shot several times and died at the scene.
The daughter was taken to the hospital, where she was able to talk to investigators. Police have not released her name.
Police identified the shooter as 21-year-old “John Doe”, who was free on bond after being arrested last week and charged with stalking the woman. Police say “Doe” was last seen driving away in a green Honda Accord.
Did you get the second to last sentence??? The one where it says he was free on bond after being arrested LAST FRIGGING WEEK for stalking this woman!?!?!
Do ya have any idea how many women die holding a restraining order in their hands?
I don't even know how to respond...there are not even words. I was stalked when I ended a 24 year marriage. My situation was not taken seriously either, fortunately, my daddy is still alive.
F-ing Mad and Smashing F-ing China
I have a hard time differentiating between a “blah” day or two, and the beginnings of my medication losing its’ effectiveness.
For 4 or 5 days out of the past week or so, tears have been a constant part of my days. My anger level is at full throttle. I have always been quick to tears, but until the past few years, say 5 or 6, I NEVER had an anger problem.
When I get angry it is almost always over stupid, non-anger worthy situations. It explodes out of the blue too! There is rarely ever a warning, such as I was already having a shoddy day, or “he had already pushed my last button” or anything like that. No this anger just explodes from a place I didn’t even know existed.
I don’t hit or yell at people or throw things, but there is an absolute burning desire to cuss, especially the F word, and to break something. I have often wondered how it would feel to just intentionally smash a dish or a glass or something. I generally don’t curse and I’ve never been a thrower or a hitter, but I cannot stress how powerful this urge is when it hits.
From what I have written you might not believe me, but I am about as nice as they come. I smile at everyone whose glance meets mine... I will stop and let traffic in if it is not presenting a danger to others for me to do so... If you only have an item or two in the grocery store I will let you ahead of me in line… I take home any stray animals... I’ve paid for someone’s items if they got to the register and ran out of money…but for all that kindness, there are times I want to just SCREAM as LOUD and as long as I can the most horrible curse words there are while at the same time smashing china against a tree, or a person, depending on the circumstances.
I’ve tried twice now to tell my shrink I think I am bipolar, that it is not strictly depression I suffer from. Do I sound bipolar?
For 4 or 5 days out of the past week or so, tears have been a constant part of my days. My anger level is at full throttle. I have always been quick to tears, but until the past few years, say 5 or 6, I NEVER had an anger problem.
When I get angry it is almost always over stupid, non-anger worthy situations. It explodes out of the blue too! There is rarely ever a warning, such as I was already having a shoddy day, or “he had already pushed my last button” or anything like that. No this anger just explodes from a place I didn’t even know existed.
I don’t hit or yell at people or throw things, but there is an absolute burning desire to cuss, especially the F word, and to break something. I have often wondered how it would feel to just intentionally smash a dish or a glass or something. I generally don’t curse and I’ve never been a thrower or a hitter, but I cannot stress how powerful this urge is when it hits.
From what I have written you might not believe me, but I am about as nice as they come. I smile at everyone whose glance meets mine... I will stop and let traffic in if it is not presenting a danger to others for me to do so... If you only have an item or two in the grocery store I will let you ahead of me in line… I take home any stray animals... I’ve paid for someone’s items if they got to the register and ran out of money…but for all that kindness, there are times I want to just SCREAM as LOUD and as long as I can the most horrible curse words there are while at the same time smashing china against a tree, or a person, depending on the circumstances.
I’ve tried twice now to tell my shrink I think I am bipolar, that it is not strictly depression I suffer from. Do I sound bipolar?
Tuesday, June 05, 2007
NAMI - Opening My Eyes
I attended a 3 day facilitator training seminar recently presented by NAMI -the National Alliance for the Mentally Ill.
NAMI is the nation’s largest grassroots mental health organization dedicated to improving the lives of persons living with serious mental illness and their families. Founded in 1979, NAMI has become the nation’s voice on mental illness, a national organization including NAMI organizations in every state and in over 1100 local communities across the country who join together to meet the NAMI mission through advocacy, research, support, and education.
NAMI is the nation’s largest grassroots mental health organization dedicated to improving the lives of persons living with serious mental illness and their families. Founded in 1979, NAMI has become the nation’s voice on mental illness, a national organization including NAMI organizations in every state and in over 1100 local communities across the country who join together to meet the NAMI mission through advocacy, research, support, and education.
As you know, I have dealt with severe depression for years (since 1992). I felt 3-4 years ago God was calling me to address this illness in the church and in other faith based ministries. It is an often ignored and/or misunderstood illness and statistically speaking there are many people (one in 4 according to the National Institute of Mental Health) who, JUST LIKE I DID, sit in pews week after week afraid to ask for help because of the stigma attached.
That stigma will never go away (which means less people will seek help) unless we who have the illness are willing to speak up about it and share our experience. Who better to be able to seek support from than our brothers and sisters in Christ? They first much understand a little of what mental illness is though...and what it is not.
This weekend really opened my eyes. I have never been around other people who have, or talk about having any type of mental illness. I've never attended "group therapy" sessions and had never heard other people say the exact same things that I have thought silently for years! (I was also left wondering if my true diagnosis should not be bipolar rather than major depression, but if and/or when my meds stop working again, I’ll deal with that then.)
I contacted NAMI about 3 weeks ago because of my desire to help remove this stigma, at least among the Christian community. Shortly afterward I was invited to attend this seminar free of charge! We had National speakers and I was there from that Friday morning at 8 am until Sunday at 2:30 pm - all free of charge. I was able to take that Friday off with a minimum of "painful whining " by my boss. I just can't help but believe this has all fallen together like this because God allowed it. I believe he put this passion inside me for other people who are hurting and ashamed.
I took a spiritual gifts test recently also. My highest score was Mercy. My second was teaching. That is just further assurance that this is something I can indeed do. I have put this off all this time for several reasons, fear, the anxiety I have had in public, not being sure it was God's voice I was hearing, etc. I guess now I have just decided if I wait until I am 100 % sure, I will go to Heaven one day having never done a thing to help anyone in this area.
Just want to let you all know what is going on in my world. Those who pray, pray that I will not be afraid or let the anxiety stand in the way of helping to tear down this wall that hinders so many people from seeking help.
Friday, June 01, 2007
I am going to attempt to begin blogging again. I have been stable on meds now for about 8 weeks and if this continues, I will be happier than a pig in mud.
Geese, Goslings and Anatomy Oh My!!
Outside my office, is a huge pond. I have worked there for 7 years now and have watched every January as the same pair of geese come back and begin finding and preparing a nest. I have watched them use a huge clump of pampas grass (ouch). I have watched them use a big planter that has long ago given up the ghost for whatever plant had lived in it. Usually, wherever they make their nest, there is no "roof". By March, they are sitting and by late April or early May, there are goslings galore!
This pair of geese knows me. I personally think all animals "know" an animal person, but these two definitely know me. I am always the first person in the parking lot of our office complex. The geese recognize my car. They know it is time for breakfast when I drive in. I have often wondered if they wait expectantly for me on the weekends and if so how long before they give up and call me bad words.
This time, the pair hatched out 5 babies. That is pretty much average for these two. If you have never watched geese live out their lives, allow me to fill you in on some things I didn't know before I went to work there.
Someone, be it the Mr or the Mrs, is always sitting on those eggs. If it rains, or storms, someone is always sitting on those eggs. If it turns out like this year, and we have a really cold spell surprise us in the middle of spring, someone will be sitting on those eggs.
In case I haven't mentioned it, someone is sitting on those eggs 24-7. They take turns. The female does the majority of the sitting, but a couple of times a day she will get off the nest and get in the pond and splash around and find her something to eat and he will sit while she is gone.
Mr and Mrs are also very, very territorial. Very territorial. If another pair of geese even come flying in as if to "think" about landing on the pond, they start honking and hollering and will run the trespassing pair off. Same for any ducks that might get too close, although they will allow the ducks to live on the pond, just not near the nest. The other geese on the other hand...NO HOW NO WAY are the staying anywhere on the property. That’s just the rules.
Usually each year, they will hatch between 4 and 7 goslings. Generally I have noticed they will lose one or two, usually to the mean, humongous, gross turtles that live in the pond. I mean these monsters are probably 80 pounds. The kind I used to watch my grandfather cook. I have actually seen them be snatched and pulled under the water never to be seen again by the turtles. Horrible to see and there is absolutely nothing you can do when it happens. Mr and Mrs get all loud and scurry the remaining babies away to shallower water where the turtles are less likely to hang out, but for that one it is too late.
I have also come driving up in the mornings and see the entire family just pecking away at the white line on the 4 lane hiway we're located on. I hear the horns honking and I just wait to hear a horrible noise. When I drive up if I see the on the roads edge, I just sit on my horn. Mostly they just ignore me.
Today, I noticed there were only 3 babies with the parents. They are a little old now - if any are going to die they usually do so before they get this old, so I was surprised. Later on in the day, I saw the 4th gosling. He was honking and swimming furiously towards his family. Something was wrong though. Mr and Mrs would not let him get close. They were actually hissing at him and chasing him off, like they do the trespassers. I walked out to get a better look at him.
He was barely swimming, and he was dragging his right leg behind him. He tried and tried to get back to his family, to get back in line with the other funny looking teenagers, but again his parents ran him off hatefully (in my opinion).
I was heartbroken. I have always been a sucker for the underdog, and this was one if I had ever seen one. He was perfectly healthy just yesterday. They had come up and ate both times yesterday when I fed them.
They always eat out of my hand. They hiss at strangers, even at the two men who work in the office with me, but they eat out of my hand. If I sit down on the ground, the babies will actually crawl in my lap. I have watched the men go all the way around the long way to get to the door because the parents will stand there and hiss at them and threaten them when the babies are young but they have always been very cordial to me. They know from whence forth their vanilla wafers come!
When I got off work this afternoon, I went looking for the injured baby. I soon found him, lying by the bank, his leg laid out behind him. His family no where in sight. No way was I going to leave that baby there to be eaten or starve over the weekend, so I just grabbed him up and wrapped him in a towel I keep in the boot of my car for just such occasions.
He was obviously in pain. I hated to hurt him, but if I left him there he would just die...alone. All the way home, every time I turned a corner or put on the brake, he would honk in pain. We were both in tears by time we got home.
All the way home I was thinking what my plan of action would be. Clean the wounds - by now I was able to see something had grabbed him on the leg in two different places. One up near his hiny where his leg was attached and the webbed part of his foot, where he was missing one "toe" and another was hanging on by a thread. I decided to try to medicate him for pain before trying to clean him, so guessing (there was NOTHING on Google about medicating an injured duck) I decided to try some liquid Tylenol PM.
I drew up about 1 tsp into a syringe (again bought for just such occasions as this - and yes I do pull over and get out to help turtles cross the road) and proceeded to open his beak and insert it in the side and pushed about 1/4th in. He immediately being choking and gasping. At once I realized what I must have done. I didn't stop to think about the anatomy being different than that of other small animals I had saved. It never once occurred to me I might be pushing it into his lungs or his trachea, but obviously that is exactly what I had done. He was dead within a minute and a half. Died right there in my arms.
Would he have died had I not caused him to aspirate the medicine? Probably. Would he have suffered or starved to death? Maybe. Could I possibly feel any more like shit than I do? Definitely not.
Geese, Goslings and Anatomy Oh My!!
Outside my office, is a huge pond. I have worked there for 7 years now and have watched every January as the same pair of geese come back and begin finding and preparing a nest. I have watched them use a huge clump of pampas grass (ouch). I have watched them use a big planter that has long ago given up the ghost for whatever plant had lived in it. Usually, wherever they make their nest, there is no "roof". By March, they are sitting and by late April or early May, there are goslings galore!
This pair of geese knows me. I personally think all animals "know" an animal person, but these two definitely know me. I am always the first person in the parking lot of our office complex. The geese recognize my car. They know it is time for breakfast when I drive in. I have often wondered if they wait expectantly for me on the weekends and if so how long before they give up and call me bad words.
This time, the pair hatched out 5 babies. That is pretty much average for these two. If you have never watched geese live out their lives, allow me to fill you in on some things I didn't know before I went to work there.
Someone, be it the Mr or the Mrs, is always sitting on those eggs. If it rains, or storms, someone is always sitting on those eggs. If it turns out like this year, and we have a really cold spell surprise us in the middle of spring, someone will be sitting on those eggs.
In case I haven't mentioned it, someone is sitting on those eggs 24-7. They take turns. The female does the majority of the sitting, but a couple of times a day she will get off the nest and get in the pond and splash around and find her something to eat and he will sit while she is gone.
Mr and Mrs are also very, very territorial. Very territorial. If another pair of geese even come flying in as if to "think" about landing on the pond, they start honking and hollering and will run the trespassing pair off. Same for any ducks that might get too close, although they will allow the ducks to live on the pond, just not near the nest. The other geese on the other hand...NO HOW NO WAY are the staying anywhere on the property. That’s just the rules.
Usually each year, they will hatch between 4 and 7 goslings. Generally I have noticed they will lose one or two, usually to the mean, humongous, gross turtles that live in the pond. I mean these monsters are probably 80 pounds. The kind I used to watch my grandfather cook. I have actually seen them be snatched and pulled under the water never to be seen again by the turtles. Horrible to see and there is absolutely nothing you can do when it happens. Mr and Mrs get all loud and scurry the remaining babies away to shallower water where the turtles are less likely to hang out, but for that one it is too late.
I have also come driving up in the mornings and see the entire family just pecking away at the white line on the 4 lane hiway we're located on. I hear the horns honking and I just wait to hear a horrible noise. When I drive up if I see the on the roads edge, I just sit on my horn. Mostly they just ignore me.
Today, I noticed there were only 3 babies with the parents. They are a little old now - if any are going to die they usually do so before they get this old, so I was surprised. Later on in the day, I saw the 4th gosling. He was honking and swimming furiously towards his family. Something was wrong though. Mr and Mrs would not let him get close. They were actually hissing at him and chasing him off, like they do the trespassers. I walked out to get a better look at him.
He was barely swimming, and he was dragging his right leg behind him. He tried and tried to get back to his family, to get back in line with the other funny looking teenagers, but again his parents ran him off hatefully (in my opinion).
I was heartbroken. I have always been a sucker for the underdog, and this was one if I had ever seen one. He was perfectly healthy just yesterday. They had come up and ate both times yesterday when I fed them.
They always eat out of my hand. They hiss at strangers, even at the two men who work in the office with me, but they eat out of my hand. If I sit down on the ground, the babies will actually crawl in my lap. I have watched the men go all the way around the long way to get to the door because the parents will stand there and hiss at them and threaten them when the babies are young but they have always been very cordial to me. They know from whence forth their vanilla wafers come!
When I got off work this afternoon, I went looking for the injured baby. I soon found him, lying by the bank, his leg laid out behind him. His family no where in sight. No way was I going to leave that baby there to be eaten or starve over the weekend, so I just grabbed him up and wrapped him in a towel I keep in the boot of my car for just such occasions.
He was obviously in pain. I hated to hurt him, but if I left him there he would just die...alone. All the way home, every time I turned a corner or put on the brake, he would honk in pain. We were both in tears by time we got home.
All the way home I was thinking what my plan of action would be. Clean the wounds - by now I was able to see something had grabbed him on the leg in two different places. One up near his hiny where his leg was attached and the webbed part of his foot, where he was missing one "toe" and another was hanging on by a thread. I decided to try to medicate him for pain before trying to clean him, so guessing (there was NOTHING on Google about medicating an injured duck) I decided to try some liquid Tylenol PM.
I drew up about 1 tsp into a syringe (again bought for just such occasions as this - and yes I do pull over and get out to help turtles cross the road) and proceeded to open his beak and insert it in the side and pushed about 1/4th in. He immediately being choking and gasping. At once I realized what I must have done. I didn't stop to think about the anatomy being different than that of other small animals I had saved. It never once occurred to me I might be pushing it into his lungs or his trachea, but obviously that is exactly what I had done. He was dead within a minute and a half. Died right there in my arms.
Would he have died had I not caused him to aspirate the medicine? Probably. Would he have suffered or starved to death? Maybe. Could I possibly feel any more like shit than I do? Definitely not.
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