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My Trixi Sue

Trixi will be 12 years old on July 5th. We got her on October 5, 2002, when she was exactly 3 months old. Her parents were Faith Hill & Elvis Presley, we were told she’d get between 70-75 lbs; the lady lied. Jim says she’s probably 200 lbs. & we’ve always fed her healthy food- no “slop” or table scraps. She isn’t a very cute pig, but to us, that makes her cuter. To go with her “not so cute” appearance she has 1 helluva attitude & kind of a reputation in my family… but that’s okay 😉

We got a pet to help with my depression. At the time, I’d been depressed for well over 6 months & was sleeping 18-20 hours a day (which isn’t abnormal for someone depressed). I had had a pot bellied pig once before, but Tootsie was an outdoor pet, Trixi is an indoor diva! While I wanted a pet to help with my depression, she had things in mind that would actually help me, but I never imagined it.

If I didn’t stay up with Trixi (in the living room) she’d start tipping over furniture with her nose (pigs have VERY strong noses). She’d tip over our barstools, the computer chair, she’d get into things she knew she wasn’t supposed to & Moooooo – who ever knew a pig could Moo?

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We used to take her camping with us, she loved taking walks by small streams & sticking her nose in the water. At home, I could put items on the floor (hat, ball, shoe, etc) & teach her each 1 then tell her to touch a particular 1 & she’d walk over & push it with her nose- then she’d get a treat! Of course, that’s what it was all about in the 1st place. 🙂

When she got an infection a few weeks back Jim & I had a talk, that dreaded talk. We both agreed when it was her time, we wouldn’t go to extreme measures to “save” her. We’re not going to make her go thru pain or discomfort so that we still have her alive. It seems that time may be arriving sometime soon.

I hope between us, we use a lot of wisdom to know what to do and when the time is right. Trixi has a wonderful life & we want the end of her time here to be as peaceful a transition as possible.

*UPDATE: Trixi is doing much better, she’s completely back to herself- healthwise. We’ve been giving her antibiotics & they must be kicking “whatever it is’s” ass. 🙂

My beautiful Mom

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Tonight my friend Kathie, tweeted: “Tell your family & friends you love them. Pick up the phone & call them. Life can change in a heart beat.”

It’s here. The day I’ve anticipated and dreaded.  March 18, 2014,  the 1st anniversary of my mom’s death.  You can tell yourself over & over your parent is going to die, that’s completely different than realizing they are actively dying.  I always knew the day would come but didn’t accept it, even though I’d been told she was dying. At the time reality and reason did not co-exist.

Ever since March 9th I’ve been remembering what occurred each day last year, she started getting sick around the 4th & my kids & I (mostly my son) stayed at her apt. and took care of her. March 9 we took her to the ER cuz her breathing was so labored & shallow. On March 11 she was sent to a rehab hospital and on the 15th she was sent home to die.

I remember when my mom was well, sometimes I’d worry about her getting hurt or even dying. It felt as though if she were to die, there would be no air to breathe, my world would cease to exist. Here it is, 1 year later and yes, my world did cease to exist, yet somehow I am still breathing.

Until late December I couldn’t “see” my mom in my mind, I’d have to look at a picture to remember her face. One night I had a dream about her, we were walking into her apt.- we must’ve gone to a hair appt. She was wearing a familiar blouse & smiling (as always); it was 1 of those dreams you don’t want to wake up from. When I did wake up I tried going back to my dream but couldn’t, ever since that time I’ve been able to remember my mom. It’s best explained to say my memories went from 0 to 100 very fast, it was overwhelming yet I didn’t want it to stop.

Sometimes I can feel my mom with me, it’s not something I actively sought out, it just happened. It happens when I’m alone, out of nowhere I’ll see an image of something we did together, it’s more than just that though- hard to explain. Other times it is a knowing presence, I can feel her with me. One time I went to bed angry at Jim, as I lay there I suddenly had an image of my mom making a funny face (a sarcastic smile) she did when I’d tell her she looked sad, or didn’t look happy. I fought it, but eventually I couldn’t help but smile & burst out laughing. I know without a doubt that was my mom cuz she knows my temper & used to hate it when I’d get so angry… all it took for her to change my mood was a silly smile.

I’ve heard people say (not to me) when you’re older your parent’s death shouldn’t affect you as much as when you’re younger – HOGWASH! Throw that & any other judgments or expectations in the trash. Everybody’s experience is unique. Feelings don’t really make sense: there are days I want to cry but I feel numb, some days I don’t think about my mom- others I’m consumed with her- sometimes I start crying and can’t stop- absolutely no rhyme or reason to it. There is no right or wrong when it comes to grieving.

I spent a lot of time with my mom, helped her when she’d let me, laughed & cried with her. We people-watched, she’d wear sunglasses & feel invisible, sometimes it was so obvious she was staring & I’d be embarrassed, but she’d always make me laugh afterward. Our roles reversed: I’d be calling her to make sure she was home safe & hadn’t been drinking too much. She lived a full life to the very end!

My regrets have to do with my mom’s final days. I wish we’d had time alone, just the two of us. Time to hold her hand, tell her how much I loved her, thank her for everything & for being my best friend. A chance to say good-bye. I am a strong believer that everything happens for a reason, maybe my mom and I weren’t meant to say good-bye.

Time… nothing replaces the time you can spend with someone, even if it is sitting by their side, holding their hand and not saying one word.

ps… Lisa S. if you read this please let me know, I’ve lost your email.

 

Been forever

It feels like winter is here, that is winter So. Cal style- it’s 60 degrees outside. I wasn’t able to fall asleep last night until about 4am, lots of things on my mind.  Since the last time I wrote here so much has changed – drastically, but I’m not sure if I’ll ever share any of it & I strongly doubt I’ll ever share all of it- I still haven’t shared all of it with another person.

I’m not looking forward to the holidays for a number of reasons, 1 of them being if I’m invited to functions with my family I’m not going & for once I can say it’s because I just don’t want to go. Yes, I know that may seem insensitive but I don’t. I realized last night part of why I’ve been angry at my siblings & haven’t seen them is they’re going to remind me of my mom. Emotionally, even just thinking about it feels like a gut punch. When I’m home here, just Jim & I, it’s not abnormal for my mom not to be here. But seeing my siblings? I’d ALWAYS have my mom with me when I saw them. Too much pain.

I’ve done well as far as dealing with my emotions regarding my mom’s death…numbness mostly. I was VERY depressed in May & was in the hospital for 2 weeks, then attended an outpatient program for 10 – and here I are! Although I’ve been feeling numb, at times out of nowhere I break down crying; I know that’s normal. Right now it feels as if a dam’s about to burst & I’m not sure I want that to happen. I’ve been afraid of being so sad that I fall into a deep depression again; I can’t afford that.

This Friday will be 20 years since my Dad died. There’s no comparison between my parents, their deaths- so much was different. I was 35 when my Dad died, my kids were 10 & 12, I was a single mom & I still had my mom- my dad was 72. My Dad & I had a cantankerous (that may not be the right word, but I like it) relationship at times, we were both opinionated & hard-headed, but we both respected that about each other. We’d get in debates & be fine, even though it was heated, my mom would be so nervous she’d be slamming cupboards, clearly she should have spoken up! LOL 😉

With my mom, I was 54, kids 30 & 32, my mom & I were best friends. She needed me and I don’t think she realized it, but I needed her, too.

i should have known

tired. somewhat depressed. never been a people person. got a call into my therapist & waiting for the callback. didnt say i “needed” to talk. so i keep everything in my head. paranoia. nobody to talk to. nobody. only safe one would be my snoring pig. literally. tears fall and i dont know why. i shouldnt be sad. dont trust people. i know better. “friends” are fake. passive aggressive friends are the fakest. some love knowing anothers weakness. thats sick. sicker than me. sickness of the ego. mine is a sickness of the heart.

trying. always trying. to fit in. but i never have. i never will. 99% of the time i dont care if i do or not. not “one of the crowd” just not. i should have known to keep things to myself. trust nobody but myself – my mantra. how it is. always been. safest way.

Real quick

I just read a blog about a little boy that has a mental illness and I suggest you read it too. The blog is: The Anarchist Soccer Mom

Her 2nd sentence hit me like a lightening bolt: “But it’s time to talk about mental illness.” Bless her heart. The courage, and excuse my french, but the fucking balls it takes to be as raw & honest as she’s being to bring attention to the state of our mental health system, or lack thereof, as it affects her beautiful (I’m referring to his “being” even though he is beautiful) son.

I think most of you know I have a mental illness, 2 actually, but tonight (this morning…it’s 2:52am) I’m just writing to say (and to kick myself in the ass so I’ll do it) that I’m going to start writing about living with mental illness. I’m pretty sure I usually seem “normal” but if I do it’s because I get offline before I start tweeting what’s going on in my head. (I internalize my problems, so it’s sort of an inner-hell)

I started blogging in 2005 to dump all the stuff in my head & I was so shocked & pleased with how many others were in similar situations; there was also a sense of community support. Anyways, that’s kinda neither here nor there right now. If anybody reading this wants to write an anonymous post I’ll be more than happy to consider putting it on here – given that I know you, I think that’s only wise.

Okay, I’m going to bed now. good night

Shitfuck

Nice title, eh? Back in ’07 when I was on Topamax for depression (and it was supposed to help my migraines) I gradually started noticing my vocabulary was diminishing. It got to the point where I couldn’t even remember the names for basic things like appliances, names, and even cuss words – so my “go to” cuss word, the only one I could say, was Shitfuck. I started researching the side effects of all the new meds I was on & lo & behold the problem was Topamax aka “the california drug”, “the stupid drug” “the blonde drug”…all because it has the potential to make you stupid and it was. I’d been on it for 6 mos., even my fellow bloggers noticed the change it me, it was that obvious. I immediately got off of it & gradually got my memory & vocabulary back. Now, it’s kind of a joke between Dick & I when I say that, but back then, it was no joke.

Today, shitfuck is the word that best describes my life. Don’t get me wrong, I have a lot to be grateful for: on July 5th, I got my 60 chip from N.A., my son has a new job, everyone in my family is in good health – my mom is even going for walks!

But me? Inside? It’s a shitfuck. I know depression when it starts rearing its head & thats a red-flag for me because what follows is detrimental to my life. Sometimes depression is situational- which is easier to deal with. Sometimes it’s generalized- which is what this is. I can’t talk to my family about it cuz they’d flood me with advice & suggestions. I haven’t seen my therapist in 4-5 weeks which is a long time, 1 appt. was cancelled by us, 1 by my therapist, fortunately, I see him tomorrow. For today, I wish I could just sleep & hopefully I will later.

It’s hard to put into words so that people that don’t understand it, or don’t have Borderline Personality Disorder, can relate. As with depression, I can recognize the signs of BPD rising up in my life-mostly in my emotions & brain…my thinking becomes skewed. I get paranoid and other weird shit that I’m not gonna go into.

The main things though are that I don’t feel “connected” with anyone…not 1 person. I don’t think I even feel grounded with myself & the best way to describe that is a balloon with a string attached flying away-it’s not grounded…but that’s me. I’m overwhelmed with worry about things that I have absolutely no control over. “God help me accept the things I cannot change.” That is…whoever/whatever/wherever you are, God.  I don’t feel hopeless, I just wish that for today, I didn’t feel. Period. And I selfishly say that knowing someone I care about is in her last days – but still, I’m being honest & that’s how I feel.

My daughter & I have always been close & while we talk, it’s not the same. She talks about superficial things & acts like everything is fine. She’s living with her boyfriend now & he’s a really good guy, but I want my relationship with her back. Our calls are short, her visits are short, my mom hasn’t talked to her in 2 weeks (Jill normally calls my mom at least once if not twice a week) I know it’s normal for us not to talk so often, but it’s the quality of our talks, not the quantity. Aaaand another family issue with my brother that I won’t go into- its just really fucked up.

And then there’s the shit going on with social media sites… it seems more often than not, when you think you know somebody & have made a friend (especially over months) & they turn out to be so opposite of the person you thought you knew- losing that friend hurts. It doesn’t matter “who” they really are, its like mourning the loss of someone & is still painful. In this case, there’s no going back, but there is a certain empty spot of fun & laughter I shared with that person. This isn’t the 1st time it’s happened & I’m sure it won’t be the last – que sera, sera! (I’m not mentioning this for this topic to be discussed in detail, so if anybody comments, please remember this is just me dumping this stuff to get it out of me)

I’ve been doing what I’m supposed to: helping others, reading N.A. material & keeping in touch with friends there, attending meetings, praying/meditating, staying CLEAN, even exercising (but havent this week). So, what gives? Life. I read somewhere this week that we shouldn’t see obstacles as negative, but those are actually our learning opportunities to grow. Sounds good, doesn’t it? Doesn’t feel so good…it feels like shitfuck.