Wasted Glitter

Well shit on a shingle...and not the sandwich.

It is amazing to me how quickly time passes. How we let little moments slip away and make mountains out of mole hills.

Life is precious. A gift they say...and yet sometimes its a GAG gift and I'd like to give it back.  I'm spending my time reflecting on those little moments that I may have or may not have, at the time, thought, "remember this." But I do. A touch on the shoulder, a tight hug from a friend, a kiss on the cheek, a notecard in the snail mail, bit of laughter over something no one else will get, a smile across the room.

In one moment it can be gone.
In one moment, that took moments of negative time to add up, it can disappear.

And then you scrape, and scramble to try to get all those little seconds, together and make meaning of them. some stick. some don't. like glitter that you wipe most away and yet some always manage to get stuck on you somewhere, in your hair, on your face, in your clothes.

All that glitter. Wasted.

Lil bit of Me

One of the reasons I decided to change the focus of the blog was to try and help others in some kind of positive way.  In order to do that I should share a little bit about me. 

I am happily married to my husband of almost 14 years.  We will be celebrating our 14th wedding anniversary in March....we will have been together 15  years on March 12th, which IS also our wedding anniversary. Luck and fate should have it that our wedding day/evening was able to take place exactly ONE year from the day we met.  

We met in Phoenix through friends, and for us, it was love at first sight, although we didn't realize it until the second time we met.  LOL  We do not have people children but we do have our furry kids. With us now are Elly (age 12) and Jaxon (almost 4!), both Blue Heelers and the light of our lives.

We have lost 2 furry kids, Ginseng, the BEST shar-pei at age 9 and Tiggr, Texas Heeler (by far the best buddy EVER) at age 12.  Those losses are already 2+ years and yet there are days when it stabs at my heart that it feels like just yesterday. 

Anyhow...Brian and I moved to Denver in 2009. We had moved back and forth AZ-CO-AZ-CO and have stayed here. I am completely ready to move again, thanks to the unreal cost of living here and social isolation. Brian just finished his Bachelor's degree in Special and Elementary Education and will be looking for employment to start in the schools in the Fall 2018. He currently works Turf/Grounds Crew for the Colorado Rockies MLB team and NFL Denver Broncos.   All I can say is I'm proud of him and so happy to have our evenings back without homework from his schooling!  

I too work in Education, over 17 years as a School Psychologist. I basically love what I do and the meaning behind it. Its only some co-workers and parents that make me "hate" my job.  I just remind myself I work for the "kids" so that they can succeed in life. 

About 3 years ago I was formally diagnosed with Fibromyalgia. After 2 years of doctor's appointments related to extreme fatigue, chronic pain, lethargy and fogginess my OBGYN contacted my primary physician to make the diagnosis real.    Imagine my response....great. So now I have been diagnosed with an "invisible" chronic illness and I work and am surrounded by family and people who are incredibly concrete thinking. 

Its been a hard road, and continues to be so.  I am now at a point where I have utilized all my sick time and my illness is beginning to impact my ability to meet job deadlines, unless I work from home. Which, as you can imagine, as a Psychologist in the schools is not an easy thing to do unless its related to paperwork (which we happen to do a lot of). 

I continue to struggle with feeling like saying "I have a chronic illness" indicates a personal weakness and failure. I struggle with feeling the need to justify, to prove, to want to gain acceptance of my illness.  If I wasn't concerned with others perceptions, my stress level and anxiety would probably be a WHOLE lot LOWER.  I honestly feel like others perceptions is one of the largest confounding factors that impacts how severe my Fibro symptoms on any given day, are. 

I say "my Fibro," because...well...it is MINE.  No one can understand the severity of the pain on a good day much less a bad flare day.  Fibromyalgia has some common characteristics that those of us with it suffer from. However the severity, degree and other symptoms we have are widely varied. That's why mine is MINE.  

I have a hard time remembering how I felt before all the fatigue and pain.  I think I've been pain free once in the last 5 years and that was recently thanks to some pain meds administered in the ER. And can you imagine how frustrating, that when I do go to the doctor, and they run the same 18000 labs (okay 8-10 labs) they all come back "normal." Then, the doctor says, "it could be an impact of your fibromyalgia."  

So at this point, related to my Fibro is IBS, hot flashes, night sweats, insomnia, shortness of breath, tight muscles, fatigue, lethargy, poor vision, difficulties at times with fine and gross motor skills, balance, memory (both short and long term), and speech.  Yesterday Brian said, "my wife is brilliant and when she can't put thoughts and words together about what to eat for dinner, well...that's when I really worry."    We live in a world where my baseline pain is about a 4 on a 1-10 scale, with 10 being severe. 

I am amazed everyday at what I can still accomplish, and disappointed daily by my limitations. 

Ups, Downs and All Around

So.
I have been thinking about this blog.

What I set out to do with it.  What it has become or more accurately, NOT become. What I could use it for.
Inspiration. Not just the craft kind, because, well....that's obviously not working.

I have kept a journal since I was 7 years old and I still continue to do so. It centers me, eases my mind, provides a way for me to think things over, make decisions and reflect.

I definitely don't journal as much as I used to, and I find myself longing for it. It used to be about having the write notebook, pens, markers, time, etc. Lately (well, over the last few years) it has become more relative to the thought of "why bother?"

Who's going to care? Who's going to read my story and think,"Oh that sounds like her" or "I finally understand why she did xx xx or why she felt xxxx."

I do not  have children of my own (not by choice) or someone to pass these on to (partially by circumstances) but my life has meaning. Doesn't it? Why not share my stories? My thoughts, my gobble de goop that is caught in my mind.

Maybe it will give someone a reason to smile or laugh. Feel okay to question themselves. To be OK with Not being OK.

I read others' blogs and find myself thinking, "Oh my, she gets it," or, "I never thought about it like that."

So why not try? What do I have to lose?

Hope you join me on this journey. I am not sure what it will look like. I do not even think I know WHAT I want it to "look" like. Guess what?  That's me. A little bit of sunshine, some clouds...a bit thunderous at times. Full of beauty and wonder and curiosity. Playing it safe, but not too safe. So here I am. Maybe something will strike a chord. Maybe you will laugh because you find something is funny or humorous. Or maybe you smile because you chuckled, thinking, "what a dork." Somedays what I share may make you cry. Feel relief, or sadness, or empathy. Give you strength in a moment when you didn't realize that was what you needed. 

Here I am.  I hope you come back and visit me from time to time. That is all I can hope for. NOTHING to LOSE and maybe a little something to gain.