Uh Oh!

Oh yes, I’ve done it! I’ve broken the rules. I’ve become a rebel. I’ve put up the Christmas tree before Thanksgiving (gasp!), and you know something…I don’t feel bad about it. Not. One. Bit. This has been a really rough year, and I am ready to be in the Christmas spirit. While I pieced together the artificial pine and wrapped it in lights, I added my off-key vocals to the sweet sound of the Christmas classics. We may wait until after Thanksgiving to add the ornaments, and that would be okay. Just putting up the tree and staring at it’s glow in a dark room was just the mood lift I needed, and oh boy did I need it.

When I saw the neurologist last week, he and I decided that it would be a good idea to increase my antidepressant (one of them). I know that it takes a while for these things to build up in your system. If ever there was a time when I needed it to happen quickly, it’s now. I have felt myself slipping back into my darker depression days and if I’m honest, it was worrying me. Old, unhealthy coping mechanisms were just one impulse move away. I fought hard to push those thoughts and urges away, and more than once cried out to God ‘I need your help’. He heard my cries and saved me from myself like he’s done so many times before. I know that my depression is a daily battle, but I also know that I don’t have to fight it alone. I wish this was something I realized many years ago when self harm was the weapon of choice in my battle.

While I enjoy the beauty of the tree lighting up the room tonight, I will focus on the real Light in my darkness and be thankful for His love. You all are in my thoughts and prayers. If you’re in a battle right now, keep fighting; you’re not alone.

With love,

J♡

Let the Storm Come

Let the winds come

Stir up this pain

Let it dance among the leaves

Be carried away

Let the clouds roll in

Cover the hurt

Let it be shadowed

Blend with the earth

Let the thunder sound

Blend with the cries

Let it play in your orchestra

To the beat that’s inside

Let the rain pour

Collide with tears

Let them fall to the ground

Along with the fears

Let the lightning flash

Illuminate all that is good

Let it outshine the despair

Just like it should

Let the storm come

Repair this soul

Let it be renewed

Make it feel whole


Thank you for reading. Wishing you all well.

With love,

J♡

I Screwed Up Dinner and Then Some

Needless to say, November started terribly. Add that to the rest of the year and it’s a recipe for an emotional storm. If you’ve been with me a while, you know that my body does not respond well to heightened emotions. Depression, check. Fibro flare, check. Psychogenic Dystonia episodes (attacks, as I call them), check. These attacks are bound to happen; I’m not shocked when they do occur. They do however, still hold that element of surprise. Where will I be when it begins? What will I be doing? How long will it last? Which body parts will be affected? Wednesday gifted me with not one, but two episodes. Luckily, I felt them coming and got myself to a safe place. They also didn’t last very long, which I was thankful for. When my mom learned of Wednesday’s episodes, she said I had reached my limit for the week and wasn’t allowed any more. Well, I must be an overachiever because on Thursday I had another one. If this is your first time reading my blog, I have a strange sense of humor and sarcasm; just roll with it.

Cue dinnertime. My husband and I were making tacos and chimichangas. Bellies grumbling, this was going to be a delicious and satisfying meal. Everything was ready, and the oil in the pan was hot, ready to magically turn burritos into chimichangas. The picky eaters (kiddos) had already eaten. My husband had warmed up his tortilla and layered his ingredients when I heard him ask, “aren’t you going to warm your tortilla?”. I wanted to answer, but I couldn’t. I responded in my head, but could not get the words out. Our backs were to each other as I was at the counter opposite of the stove. I was midway through closing the bag of tortillas when I just froze. At that particular moment, my body said I’m done and I guess I didn’t get a say in the matter. I really feel like I should be a part of these major decisions. Once my husband had asked a couple times what was wrong and got no response, he did his best to help me. I am used to the episodes that cause my muscles to tighten and contort me however they see fit, but this one was different. I just stopped, stared off, couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. My arms may have well been cooked spaghetti noodles. I couldn’t lift them, couldn’t grab my plate, couldn’t hug my daughter back as she offered comfort. It was frustrating to say the least. Slowly I regained my words and I did manage with my husband’s help, to get my feet moving. I shuffled back and forth in the kitchen in hopes that maybe some muscle memory would kick in. Nothing. Back to the counter. I asked to have my arms lifted and rest on the counter so I could concentrate on making my hands and arms do something, anything. I attempted to lift my hand. I felt muscles tighten, but they were the wrong ones. What I got instead was a tight upper arm and an elbow that felt glued to the counter and still nothing from my hand. The more my husband tried to help and the more I tried to concentrate on getting body parts to cooperate, the more my upper body tightened. I told my husband to finish cooking his food and eat without me. Being the sweetheart he is, he insisted on waiting for me. I felt bad that his food was getting soggy the longer it sat. Everything else on the stove was cooling down. The oil in the pan was burning and needed to be turned off. Back to shuffling around the kitchen. Then, the familiar muscle tightening I’m used to. Feet together, legs straight, jaw pulling to one side, my husband had to pick me up and carry me to the couch. The whole attack lasted about an hour. I had ruined a great dinner, later evident by the not so fresh taste of the food. Other than the grumble in my belly, all I could seem to focus on during that time, were the negative thoughts swishing around in my mind. I’m a burden. I mess up good things. It’s not fair that my husband has to deal with this. What if I’m the cause of his stress? He probably wishes he had never met me. It’s only a matter of time before he leaves. Does he feel obligated to stay? He resents me. The kids shouldn’t have to take care of me or watch this. Are they going to have the same issues? Is this going to be how they remember me someday? I suppose I have anxiety and depression to thank for all the intrusive thoughts. They are the salt poured into an open wound. As I type this, I know that most of those thoughts are not things I need worry about; at least I hope that is the case. Yet, they still linger at the back of my mind, just waiting for depression and anxiety to open the gates and allow them to overwhelm me.

I know I have no right to complain, but some moments really make me question why I can’t just be normal. I know I need to trust God’s timing and purpose for me. I hope that I am not disappointing Him each time my head fills with so much negativity.

I hope all of you are doing well. Sending hugs.

With love,

J♡

The Letter I Mentioned

An open letter:

Dear _________,

I bet you never thought you would hear from me, huh? Many years ago, I’m sure this letter would look quite different. Years ago, I would have written words out of anger, disgust and hurt. Today, I am writing this letter to tell you that I forgive you. I’ll never know why you made the choices you did, and I don’t want or need to. What you did to me was wrong and yes, it caused emotional damage, not only for me, but the entire family. I was blessed to be able to rekindle the relationship with Aunt ________ that you stole. You may have caused great pain, but with God I have been able to turn that pain into an incredible strength. I have given it all to Him and no longer hold feelings of ill will. I forgive you. I will never know if those words mean anything to you, and that is okay. I pray that you have changed your ways and asked God for forgiveness. The last I heard, your health was not great. I will pray for your healing. God bless.

Nikki

Incomplete Thoughts

Good morning/afternoon/evening! While I’m still struggling to put together complete thoughts, I figured I would share some of the things bouncing around inside my noggin.

  • Some days I feel like I’ve lost my marbles. I found some among my craft things, but I’m not sure they are mine.
  • Those little captcha things you have to do when downloading something…they make you check the “I’m not a robot” box. Every time I click it, it feels like a lie. With all the screws and battery and wires from my surgeries, I think I am part bot.
  • I feel guilty that I am unable to work and contribute financially. The guilt doubles on days that I struggle to complete housework.
  • When someone cracks a joke about me not having a job, it’s not funny. It makes me feel useless.
  • I need to start making Christmas gifts, but the procrastinator in me says I’ll probably be finishing them two days before Christmas.
  • When someone asks how I am doing and I reply with, “good, thanks”, it doesn’t mean my chronic health issues have gone away. It means that at that moment, I am tolerating/hiding it better.
  • I miss driving.
  • As I was looking through the “stats” page and noticing the different countries views are coming from, it filled my heart with joy. When I started blogging, I never imagined more than a handful of people wanting to read my words. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.
  • I’m contemplating writing a letter to the man who stole a part of my childhood.
  • I do not like the way my voice sounds on the phone. I thought I was 33, not 12.
  • I had to think about how old I am. Yes, 33 is correct.
  • I’m over this covid crap, the elections, and city life. I want to move to the middle of nowhere and be neighbors with the trees and wildlife. Maybe someday.

There ya have it, you’ve rummaged through some of the junk drawer that is my brain. Be well, my friends.

With love,

J♡

Type, Erase, Repeat

Type the title. Erase it. Type a new title, erase it and start typing a paragraph; I’ll think of a title after. Erase my three sentences and close the app. Stand at stare at my craft things. Pick up a canvas and put it back. Open WordPress, repeat the actions I did earlier. Decide to try macrame; it turns out terrible. Open WordPress once again.

I’m struggling tonight to find that creative and happy side of myself. Maybe it’s not just tonight; I’ve been feeling this way for days. I don’t know if it is the increase in negativity I’m seeing among people, stress over personal issues, or my meds aren’t doing their job properly. Maybe it’s a combination. Whatever the case, I don’t like it. I am feeling very meh. I know how quickly for me meh can turn into just existing. For those that have been with me a while, you know that is not a place I wish to go. I have an appointment with the neurologist on Wednesday and I plan to ask him about increasing the dose of my antidepressants. I thought the combination I’m on was working pretty well, but maybe not so much. Perhaps now would be a good time to ask my family what they have observed?

There’s a ton of thoughts navigating through my brain and feelings that I would like to express. I just can’t seem to get them out at the moment, but I thought I should at least write something so I don’t slip back into the bad habit of not writing for weeks on end. That said, I wish you all a wonderful weekend. Hugs.

With love,

J♡

Watch Out, Gym Buffs

Oh sure people who regularly lift at the gym are impressive. They can flex their biceps, triceps and any other “eps”. But can they flex their face? I don’t just mean when they smile, frown or grimace as they really work those muscles. Can they flex their face? Well I can…apparently.

Late Sunday afternoon we were heading to my in-laws’ house. It was going to be especially nice, because our nieces and nephews would be there and we hadn’t seen them in months. Having all the family together was a “good stress”, but I was already stressing (the bad kind) about other life things. Before we left the house I was feeling that familiar build-up before a dystonic episode. I was hopeful that it would pass, but the feeling only intensified on the thirty minute drive over. I could feel the corner of my mouth pulling and my limbs beginning to tighten. Once parked in front of their house, I looked at my husband, “I think I need a minute”. My face was still pulling. My fingers had clenched around the sweater I had set beside me. My husband sent the kids inside, freed the sweater from my grasp, then proceeded to work on the rest of my muscles. While he was trying to trick my leg muscles into releasing, the muscles in my face decided it was their time to shine. The muscles around my eyes and cheekbones felt as though they were being pulled down to my chin. My jaw locked shut and I could not speak. The pain was so intense and all I could do was cry. My husband was frantically trying to figure out what was hurting the most. At first, he thought maybe he had hurt my leg while trying to relax those muscles. I was able to finally sputter out, “ma fa hur” (my face hurts). He did the best he could to massage the muscles. Once my legs were at least able to function, he helped me inside the house. It took some time for the rest of the episode to pass, but once it did we enjoyed the time spent with family. I of course, was wiped out and sore the rest of the day and the following one. My face felt as if I had spent hours at the dentist and then took a basketball to the face. It is still a bit sore now. My husband told me that my face looked strange during that episode, that he could see all the muscles pulling, like someone flexing their arms. So there you have it, I can flex my face…watch out bodybuilders, my strength game is strong.

With love,

J♡

A Small Fear

At some point roughly twelve years ago, things changed. My brain and body had a little meeting. I imagine it went something like this:

Brain: *sips coffee* I have an idea. Handling J’s stress the “normal” way is getting boring. What if we shake things up a bit?

Body: What kind of stress?

Brain: Any! Mental, physical. Shoot, even strong happy emotions! What do ya say?

Body: What do you have in mind?

Brain: We’re going to work together to make her muscles tighten up and move in ways she didn’t know was possible. We’ll call it Psychogenic Dystonia!

Body: I don’t know. What if she doesn’t like that? What if it causes problems for her?

Brain: It’ll be fine. She’ll learn to deal with it. Besides that, we’re in charge.

Body: Okay, I’m in.

*They cheers a cup of coffee*

The mind is a beautiful and powerful thing. Why mine really chose to handle stress the way it does, I do not know. I know that God is in control so I try not to let fears of uncertainty get to me, but there’s something that sits at the back of my mind. What if one day, my brain decides to switch things up again? What if it decides that a better coping mechanism would be to add other personalities, intrusive thoughts, or hallucinations? My heart goes out to all those with borderline personality disorder, schizophrenia, and all other mental health conditions. You are strong and amazing.

I’m giving this fear to God and will trust that He will be with me, no matter what kind of shenanigans my brain and body get into.

Be well, dear friends. Hugs to whoever needs one.

With love,

J♡

I Cannot Spill the Beans

Oh hello there, lovelies!  How are you?  I would love to tell you that I have some amazing excuse for my absence, but that would be a lie.  More than anything, the guilt I’ve felt about not posting had me contemplating quitting my blog altogether or starting over. I did what I seem to do best, avoid the issue and then apologize (again) for my absence.  I realize that at some point you may tire of all my “I’m sorry” posts.  So if you’re still here to share in my journey, from the bottom of my heart, thank you! I will try to do better.
There’s been many things taking an emotional toll on me lately and I’m trying so hard to stay upbeat, but you guys, I’m struggling. Because some of these things involve other people, I need to be respectful of their privacy. I don’t know if you all know this, but I’m kind of a self-proclaimed expert bottler; and so I will use my expertise to bottle up these emotions as well.  As for the issues that are not so personal…I’m sure you all have noticed how much hate and division there seems to be everywhere you look.  People are so divided about politics, the pandemic, equality and so on.  People are arguing and name calling constantly.  I try to just stay in my own little bubble and not let other people’s actions affect me, but it’s heartbreaking to see/hear.  When did we become so focused on being right that we forgot to care about and love one another?  When did we lose our ability to have civilized conversations and learn from each other?  I know we can all do better.  For now, I will concentrate on seeing the good in people and do what I can to show kindness to those I interact with.  Taking a break from social media may be a good idea as well.
On to the health stuff.  Fibromyalgia continues to be a pain in my – everything.  I’m feeling as though I must be in a flare because some days, it feels like I’ve been hit by an 18-wheeler.  Side note – that’s never happened – maybe not a fair comparison.  The pain clinic thought it would be a good idea to go back on pain killers for a bit.  Good ol’ insurance has me waiting until they receive prior authorization.  I have my muscle relaxers, but they don’t do much for me.  Unfortunately, I’m still having my attacks (Psychogenic Dystonia). Although they are less frequent, they still hit pretty hard each time.  Several of these episodes left me so sore that I was sure I had pulled a muscle or two.  Let’s talk about laughing until (or while) you cry.  Pseudo Bulbar Affect…uncontrollable laughing and or crying that is not appropriate for the circumstance.  I hate these episodes more than the dystonia.  I hyperventilate, sweat like crazy, and then sob between fits of laughter.  I feel like I’m not in control and it scares me.  I’m so thankful that these episodes don’t occur very often.  The neurologist said there is a medicine he could give me, but I really don’t want any more meds.  I think I’ll hold off as long as possible.  I really don’t leave the house much, so I’m not too concerned about the embarrassment these cause.  My kiddos understand them, but it does scare them a little.  They try to leave the room when possible to offer me some privacy and allow me to not feel like such a spectacle.  I’m sure there is more I wanted to share with you, but the thought train seems to be leaving the the station without me.
Anyway, I really hope you all are doing well and staying healthy and happy. God bless you and yours.

With love,
J♡