A Few Things

A) Had a happy anniversary yesterday. There were certainly some "aaagh!" moments (read: potty training & toddler parenting & WTF is a potato doin' tasting like that) and overall it was a good day.

I got the chores done that I wanted to and when the hubs came home I felt like I had "made the home" for him. I had on a dress I know he likes and he walked in with a big smile and a nearly-as-big bouquet for me.

Roses-but-not-roses per my usual taste ;o)

We had special steak from the butcher and after dinner we went to Freddy's and checked Baby Bananaface into the childcare for what we hope would be nearly an hour of "us" time strolling about the store with some java.

Well. We've been potty training, as I mentioned, and BB started dropping the "potty" word. We got paged. I went through the trouble of taking him to the bathroom and stripping down his bottom half to get him on the toilet. He just ran around bare-assed, giggling and evading the pants in my hands.

Yuck-y. Washed those socks right when we got home. *facepalm*

Ended the evening wrapped in fuzzy throws on the couch watching some "Forged in Fire" and mumbling on in pleasant, exhausted conversation littered with tangents...

B)  Let the record show:

I can't remember exactly what I was "right" about.... that's not as important as the hubster's words immortalized on video! (Hoping it plays right... me/technology/ack)


C) I know we got some fellow word nerds around here and I'm wondering what the thoughts and feels are about this bit of internet discussion:

It's apart of economic bulimia, society binges on all of the latest and greatest trends, resulting in a purge into landfills. So they can consume again ostentatiously trying to manifest some artificial semblance of happiness.

Some of the word choices perked my eyebrow. I agree with the gist, there's just something about the delivery that scrunches my brow. Thoughts?

M is for Motherhood #atozchallenge

This post is part of my first year doing the A to Z Challenge and I happen to be writing under the theme Gratitude: The Things That Keep Me Alive. This is a relevant theme for me as I am struggling with postpartum depression, and also have diagnosed anxiety and bipolar II (just to let you know what's going on with me-it might be pertinent as you read the post below). Thank you for stopping by and reading my post!

M is for motherhood because I am grateful to be able to experience motherhood. I am very proud and enjoy so many moments with Baby Bananaface that are very personal and specific to being his momma. This is a complicated post for me because I'm still struggling to believe and internalize the belief that he needs me around and that he is worth living for and that I matter very much in his life (I tend to believe I'm dispensable and replaceable-one of things I'm working to change in DBT!), but I will try to stay positive.

When I think of giving birth to Baby Bananaface I am so proud and grateful. When I see him and how handsome and healthy and happy he is, I am so proud and grateful. When I experience private, joyous family moments with BB and my husband I am so proud and happy and grateful. There are so many perks to motherhood that carry such amazing glory. 

I know that after BB was born was when I really came face to face with my worst mental health problems but before he was even conceived, before I ever met the hubster, I wondered if I would ever be a mother. Not just because of my mental health but because of self worth issues and having such low self esteem that off and on throughout my life I doubted if I would ever have a family of my own. 

When you've been that low and so skeptical of ever achieving something and then you find yourself not only married to a wonderful man but experiencing motherhood, something you thought you'd never gain in your lifetime, it's an amazing feeling of deep, deep appreciation and gratitude. 

I know it sounds dramatic, but it seems to fall in the family of someone born without legs being able to walk or someone that was born blind being able to see. It's sometimes baffling, sometimes scary, sometimes overwhelming, and maybe sometimes you might not be sure you really even want it to be true but it always seems to come back to, "Wow. I am so incredibly blessed and grateful to have this opportunity and I really don't want to mess it up." At least for me. :o)

A big responsibility, a big challenge, but for grand rewards.

I is for Intimacy #atozchallenge

This post is part of my first year doing the A to Z Challenge and I happen to be writing under the theme Gratitude: The Things That Keep Me Alive. This is a relevant theme for me as I am struggling with postpartum depression, and also have diagnosed anxiety and bipolar II (just to let you know what's going on with me-it might be pertinent as you read the post below). Thank you for stopping by and reading my post!

I is for intimacy because intimacy, for me, is a vital part of a life worth living and an essential part of my recovery and maintained wellness.

Intimacy is defined in a variety of ways but for my purposes I'm referring to the  definitions that include: a close, familiar, and usually affectionate or loving personal relationship with another person or group; the quality of being comfortable, warm, or familiar; an act of expression serving as a token of familiarity, affection or the like; an amorously familiar act; sex.

What in my life fits that bill? Well, sex is pretty obvious. It is what it is (and thankfully the hubbo and I aren't having problems in that department! we have enough challenges methinks!). Those other types of intimacy take some translating, some scouting, some sussing out on occasion to really appreciate and recognize.

Take for instance the simple act of eye contact shared with my husband during an emotional, upsetting moment this weekend when I was crying and out of sorts; his hand on my thigh as we are driving down the freeway; playing catch with my sister and listening to her birth story and sharing my insights (I'm a trained birth doula); even bringing someone a cup of water without a request having been made are all examples of intimacy. 

Playing cards can be an intimate act that is validating and distracting and soothing. Hiking or going for a walk and sweating my ass butt off and getting all grody with someone is intimate (to me) as is sharing how I'm really feeling or shedding tears in front of someone and having them acknowledge my feelings or tears. 

Of course, many of my favorite intimate moments are shared with my husband (that's a big part of why he's the hubster, after all) and many of those are private and not meant to be shared BUT I will share this story with you...

It was late, say 10:30 or 11:00 at night, Baby Bananaface had been asleep for a couple hours and the hubs and I had watched our couple episodes of "Burn Notice" and hopped into bed only to realize that I hadn't taken my evening medication (big no-no for someone with BPD). With my particular medicine I need to eat about 300 calories when I take it to make sure that it absorbs properly. Well, I haven't been particularly interested in food so getting me to eat is a bit of challenge; especially after I've brushed my teeth and already been snuggled into bed ready to sleep!

As I'm consuming random bits of food after taking my pill I see the hubbo suddenly lurching around kicking as high as he can into the air followed by stifled groaning and "shaking it off" and rubbing and flexing his inner thigh/hip. I asked what he was doing and he said he was trying to do a "kick like Michael does in the show."

Next thing you know, I'm attempting a roundhouse kick and nearly launching my hubby into the pantry as I make *surprising* contact with his chest as I whirl around. He lost his balance, I wobbled around like a rhino on two legs and we ended up clonking heads, tickling each other, giggling and squealing as quietly as we could as we regained our composure. 

I had teased him just before my stunt about "obviously didn't learn how to do a roundhouse kick when you were younger" and he asked, after his attack, "Where did you learn to do a roundhouse kick?! Were you a Girl Scout?" 

I laughed heartily and replied, "A) No. I was not a Girl Scout. B) Do they even teach roundhouse kicks in Girl Scouts?" 

Guess we have a conversation starter next time we go in for some Thin Mints....

Anybody have a favorite "intimacy" story they'd like to share? A moment with a total stranger or a moment with a close loved one?

F is for F-bombs #atozchallenge

This post is part of my first year doing the A to Z Challenge and I happen to be writing under the theme Gratitude: The Things That Keep Me Alive. This is a relevant theme for me as I am struggling with postpartum depression, and also have diagnosed anxiety and bipolar II (just to let you know what's going on with me-it might be pertinent as you read the post below). Thank you for stopping by and reading my post!

F is for F-bombs because, *sigh*, I sure love dropping a F-bomb every now and again (okay, probably WAY more often than I'd admit but, hey, I'm a work in progress). It's like one-second therapy or an anti-anxiety pill that works in a snap, it's just so fuckin' nice to just say fuck sometimes. 

It's even a little more complex than I initially thought; as I was writing this post I realized that fuckin' things (verbally that is) is therapeutic for me because it helps externalize things and validate my feelings instead of me blaming myself or muting my complaints, biting my tongue, or basically telling myself I'm not worthwhile enough to have a valid complaint or feeling. 

I have a tendency to hold things in because I have low self esteem/family culture/however you wanna explain it and don't consider my feelings valid or worthwhile. Maybe it's juvenile, but "fuck" helps me work towards validating my feelings and honoring myself and my experience, and that's fuckin' important! I hope that someday I will be able to use "big girl" words to describe my experience, but at the moment, just saying fuck and acknowledging a feeling is there is a step in a good direction. 

My husband has made it clear that I need to work on my potty mouth now that we have a son and I'm trying to frick instead of fuck but it's damn hard. Shit. Well, obviously I have a ways to go as far as cursing goes, but I may very well always love my F-bombs :o)

Okay, That's Quite Enough Now...

Had ECT earlier today. The hubby dropped me off and my dad met me there and afterward we went out for lunch (we both have a thing for Port of Subs' #5 smoky cheddar, turkey, and ham sub and I have a thing for McMenamins' salted-caramel hazelnut tart and wouldn't ya know it right down the street from my condo we have both those restaurants so we were able to have exactly what we wanted for our main course and dessert! They served some killer coffee and just as I predicted, Dad really enjoyed the dessert as well-he has a thing for caramel and hazelnut.) Anyways, that's all fine and dandy, but my memory has been a bit troublesome this afternoon.

The doctors and nurses have been asking me if my memory has been giving me grief and I have been replying that it's a little rough right after treatment but I bounce back pretty quickly and it's not too bad overall. Well today, things were really rough afterward. I was more disoriented and struggled to recall memories more than ever before. Whether it was telling the recovery nurse what day it was or picking up what my dad was alluding to going on next weekend (BB's birthday) I was having a tough time. Even now, as I sit in my living room looking at BB's giant elephant stuffie I had a struggled to remember where the hell we got the thing (Ikea) and at lunch throughout our conversation I had a tough time recalling memories and stories that Dad brought up.

Basically, I'm getting more concerned and upset about my memory troubles and thinking that I'm getting to the point where I need to take a break from ECT. I'm not sure if I've quite got to the point where I've maxed out my benefit but I think I've got to the point where I need to lay off the zaps for a while. I can't remember exactly how many sessions I've had but I think I'm to the point where the docs have people take a break because they seem to getting concerned about my... noggin.

So that's going on and I'm also a little upset because I totally forgot that the hubster is in school online right now and I haven't asked how he's doing or offered any support, so I feel pretty shitty about myself as a wife at the moment.  I'm feeling better about myself as a mother since I've been playing and cuddling and changing Baby Bananaface more lately as my mood has improved with treatment (yay) and even as a pet-mom I've been more friendly as things have improved.

Oh, did I mention that I forgot to get the hubby a Valentine's Day card? More negative points in the wife category! Although we've been screwing around more so he's not totally getting the short stick lately....

Anyways. I'm feeling scared, disoriented, upset, and forgetful and although I want my mood to improve a little bit more I'm coming to accept that it's time to take a break soon.

In other news, I'm hoping to read more WEP stories soon and there is also something going on with one of my friends from inpatient; one of the guys texted me earlier letting me know that one of the girls is in another inpatient unit around our neck of the woods. I was already planning on contacting her to talk about DBT since I have an intake appointment for a DBT group next week and she's been through a DBT skills course but now I'm even more motivated to catch up with her and find out how she's doing.

So that's some of what's going on with me... and now I'm going to mix up some hummingbird sauce and get back to watching some "Brisco County Jr.". Kind of an obscure, short-lived TV show from the 90s but one of my favorites. As a little girl I had a crush on Bruce Campbell and he was also in this series called "Burn Notice" more recently that the hubby and I enjoyed watching together. He also did those... uh, what are they called... (memory struggles, give me a moment to Google) Evil Dead flicks. I'm not as into those because I'm not really into scary/creepy/ooky stuff but I understand that they are quite popular and have a cult following.

Anyways, off to do my hummingbird sauce! Hope that everyone is doing well, I can't remember if I've kept up with my blogging buddies' blogs lately or not but I'll certainly be trying to catch up when I get the time :) just know that you're on my mind even if I can't recall so!

Losing the Battle (trigger warning: downer post)

Today I visited my psychiatrist. It felt like more of the same and I answered her questions but didn't care much about "the plan." I think the plan is going up on the lamictal and seeing if that works but her questions about my well being made me so sad I didn't even bother listening. It's all written up on a sheet she prints out before I leave anyways.

I was primed to be brought down into the depths because Tuesday the hubs started "Ferberizing" Baby Bananaface behind my back while I was out at yoga (it's like cry it out). The next night he sent me out for groceries around the baby's bedtime to avoid me hearing the crying but I came back (it took over an hour for him to get to bed) and heard it.

It made me sick to my stomach. Not just the crying, the betrayal and subjugation by my husband. I was sick to my stomach and mad as hell and muted. I feel like a non-entity. What do I matter if my opinions are ignored my feelings are meaningless and my well being is conditional upon others' convenience?

So it was no surprise that today was a dark day for me. I spent most of my afternoon in bed, lying in misery with my eyes shut or dozing (bonus) and for a brief moment or two writing down specific ways I could kill myself without much hassle.

The darkness was comfortable today. I cried a little as my thoughts descended into blackness but then was relieved at the comfort of ending my struggle. I was so disappointed and mad and frustrated with my husband I no longer cared how he found my body (in what state) and I felt so distanced from Baby Bananaface I simply had to think about him getting a new, better mother and I was so relieved.

I am curious if I die before a certain time if it would count as a postpartum death or if it would be Bipolar II? Do they even mark such things? Or is it simply suicide-yadda yadda? That would seem awfully short sighted, but who knows with the government?

Been thinking about calling a hotline and just don't know what I would say. I won't talk to the hubby beyond functional words and I refused dinner.... SIGH Guess it's my meds, Cream of Wheat, and Golden Girls. Maybe I'll shake it up with King of the Hill.

Losing the battle today, we'll see about tomorrow.

A Little Big Update

What's up with the meds?
So I was running high on lithium (thus the tremors and maybe a little of why my mild state of hypothermia on the mountain was a bit more kukoo than I expected) and now I'm back down to 900 mg at bedtime. The Seroquel wasn't working and I was already backing that down but my depression was so severe last week and the last couple days that my psychiatrist is ramping up that dialing down=I take 100 mg for two more nights and then no more Seroquel. Instead I have started taking Risperidone 1 mg and will for those next two nights and then up it to 2 mg at bedtime. I'm also taking Klonapin in the morning for anxiety. I'm not sure if it does anything....

Symptoms?
I'm having those "danger is everywhere" thoughts, feeling a little paranoid and irrational. It's pretty unlikely that our downstairs neighbor (been writing passive aggressive notes to us) is going to blow up her apartment in an attempt to kill us or sneak in and turn on our stove top to try and burn us down but that's where my mind goes lately. I'm having body aches and tiredness beyond tiredness, lack of appetite but nomming junk food and chocolate when nothing else sounds good (hell, the chocolate doesn't even sound good!), I have some angry outbursts still, been struggling to cope with the baby for very long, oversleeping, and still obsessive about my sister and my mother and not feeling like I'm moving on. Self-harmed on Monday, scratched my right forearm with my left nails. I should be disappointed in myself, but I just don't care.

Side Effects?
Still waiting for tremors to go away. Wiggly worm legs and arms after evening meds is back.

Motherhood?
Nursing during the day and sometimes in the evening but he bit me several times last week and this weekend and that had made me angry and not willing to breastfeed (along with my very poor mood). It's been better lately but I have a therapist telling me to wean and a psychiatrist asking if I am still breastfeeding so I'm not sure how much longer I'm going to make it. Part of me is heartbroken and disappointed, but for the most part I just don't care about much anymore.

Wifedom?
Ugh. The hubs and I have little moments or normality but lately there has been more lapses in communication and resentment building. I feel like he doesn't help me do certain things around the house but he's busy with work and taking care of me and the kid and the dog and other things, but I can't feel appreciative, I just feel frustrated and angry. He's not a saint, don't get me wrong, but my reactions are amplified for whatever reason and unreasonable... Part of me is concerned, but, again, for the most part I just don't care. I just don't want him to bother me. I just want to be alone. No kid. No husband. The dog is okay. Usually.


Overall?
Still not good. Not good at all. Today I got up at 8:30 am and made it through breakfast but ended up back in bed for 45 minutes before I could actually start my day. The hubs worked from home Monday, Tuesday, and today. This is not sustainable. I'm not functional. This isn't fun. And at the same time... fuck it. I just don't give a rip. I'm miserable, I'm sad, and I don't give a fuck.

So, not good.

I think I'm safe, but I did self-harm Monday and have had suicidal flashes. Psychiatrist wanted me back in the hospital and I said no it would "just set me up for another fall, I don't have support (IRL) when I get out and I just slide back down." She also recommended something called TMS which I haven't had much time to look into. So, I slog on.

Now, I shall draggeth myself to the gym.

Going, Going, Going

I didn't want to get out of bed this morning but the hubs got me going and I just kept going to avoid feeling as much as I could. The feelings caught up with me at couples' therapy but for the rest of the day I just kept busy until dinner. I couldn't keep going anymore. I felt exhausted all of a sudden, angry, and in desperate need of a break. The hubs took Baby Bananaface to Costco and I got alone time.

I'm just.... I'm down. I don't want to do anything let alone taking care of a babe or keep up with appointments and gym classes, but I'm going through the motions. Going through the motions and wondering if any of the other yogis will notice that I'm tearing up or if the other sweaty pigs beside me on the treadmills will catch on to the fact that I'm miserable.

*big ole sighs*

Couples' therapy has been going well though I can't say that we are experiencing any immediate benefits. We keep up with our individual self care and this week we going to focus on asking how the other person is and listening and validating.

It is simple stuff but things are devolved to the point where we need to work on simple things and build up to the loving, supportive marriage we know that we can have. I'm quite internalized, isolated and shut down lately. I stopped replying or initiating our usual "I love you" farewells and being touched or hugged or kissed makes me feel very odd in a not so good way. The hubs is zipped up, avoiding talking about feelings or what is really going on. He's putting up a strong front trying to keep it all together while I'm ready to dissolved into a huge pile of goo and permanently adhere myself to the bed.

So. That's part of what is going on. I've also got therapy just for me going on twice a week. It's difficult with the baby along but I feel like we're doing better work than we have in a long time. It's very focused on coping strategies for right now, not dredging up the past or indulging in too may sob fests.

I feel overwhelmed and overworked but I look at my days and wonder why I complain or feel so bad. I know it's my bad mental programming putting myself down.... but it sure is hard tell myself that it's okay to feel this way and believe it.


In other news, we gave Fio a massive bone (well, for his miniature stature). At first we weren't sure if he could handle it but he's been gamely hauling the behemoth around and giving a corner of it his best shot with awkwardly angled nibbles. After he downed a smaller sized rawhide in one afternoon we knew we had to up the ante.

Also Fio related, I gave the baby a canister of stupid half-stale puffs to play with and while he wasn't interested in the puffs, Fio was! Baby Bananaface much preferred to nibble on the lid. I took this as the beginning of a long, mutually beneficial food disposing relationship!

"R & R"

The vacay went all right. Not good, not bad. There was tension and I didn't get to relax much, certainly didn't catch up on any sleep, but the hubs got to fish and golf and seemed to enjoy commiserating with my dad and I did enjoy bits and pieces.

The gingerbread cookie at a local cafe and the fabulous dinner we had in town at Andreas Keller. Those are probably two highlights-and the alone time going swimming and hot tubbin' with the hubs, though it didn't feel great leaving Baby Bananaface with my family...  

The dinner had it's own... awkwardness as we had embarked as a party of 6 (+ baby) but upon seeing the menu my sister bailed in about 5 minutes. She and the baby daddy went to get a cheese pizza instead. The hubs was pleased that instead of our plans being curtailed by sister's immaturity (it wasn't pregnancy related it was stubborn "I'm a picky eater and refuse to try anything new or grow up" type of thing) as they have been in the past we got to do what we wanted to do, my parents included though my mother remained subdued and the meal was quite chatless, despite my father trying to maintain a facade of untroubled waters.

I think that is a good synopsis of the whole venture. My parents pasting on happy faces all the while spending their vacation keeping my sister content and trying to "grow up" her baby daddy. Sure, they got to do the things they were planning to do-shopping, golfing, fishing, swimming-but it all seemed to orbit around those two.

The entire trip it felt like US and THEM. My parents taking care of "the kids" as they now call refer to my sister and the baby daddy and us taking care of our baby. I tried not to overthink but that first day I felt overwhelmed. All the emotions, the stress, it was like noxious fumes going to my head and on top of it I struggled with guilt over feeling... just feeling. I felt conflicted that I wasn't putting on a happy face, that I was-in my mind-expressing my displeasure at least to some degree. I was distant, excusing myself to my room for reading and side-lying nursies with the baby, it felt downright protesty! I'm sure it was subtle and they probably wrote it off as me being "gloomy" me... Who cares? I did what I had to do to make it through and it's over.

Captain Baby of the SS Bananaface

2nd time swimming, he's still not very impressed

After spending a few days with my sister and her baby daddy the hubs and I feel a bit more comfortable about the dude, we certainly don't like him but we feel less animosity and more pity. This kid doesn't have a clue. The hubs said that he sees him as a victim and feels sorry for him now, doesn't like him, don't get him wrong, just doesn't hate him quite as much. 

I realized something as we were driving home regarding my sister: for many years she would lash out at me and the family when there was conflict (usually when we didn't buy into her fake crying or there was some sort of breakdown or drama or fight) saying things like "you think I'm stupid" or "I'll never be good enough" or "you just expect me to do (insert bad idea here)" all the while putting the blame on us, claiming we thought all these ills of her. Sometimes I did think those things but only in anger and for the most part I genuinely believed that my sister was smart, capable, deep down a quality person that just needed to blossom and give herself a chance. 

Well this weekend I realized she has become all those things she claimed we thought of her, all those disappointing, "bad" things that she put on herself. I'm not sure if it's self punishment, self fulfilling prophecy, or some other twisty mental trickery but she's living up to all her worst labels and I'm beginning to wonder if this will be her life's work or if she will bloom someday. I don't know. I hope she'll freakin' bloom someday, but maybe she's just a black, prickly flower that saps the joy outta life. (yeah, I'm being dramatic)

Anyways. It was a little distressing seeing all the junk food and sugar intake and TV consumption. It makes me so grateful for the hubs and our way of living but also motivates me to eat even better and keep improving our lifestyle. Watching the baby daddy and my sister watch hours of TV while poring over their smart phones made me sad for my to-be-nephew. Not to mention the hordes of bad food my sister claimed she was entitled to consume as a pregnant woman. I never felt like I had a license to binge but she spent her first day on the town getting ice cream, caramel apple, soft pretzel, then eating chips and candy, drinking soda... I thought I had a big baby, but my nephew may just outweigh Baby Bananaface!

Oy. I am tired and I ache. Not physically, more like heartache. Watching my parents cater to those two was sad and distressing. I worry for them as well as my sister and her manchild and child, but their futures are theirs *letting it go-deep breaths-letting it go*

Some throwback cuteness to those early days

IN OTHER NEWS, the hubster and I were quite argumentative and snappish again and we're coming to terms with the fact that we are simply overextending ourselves and suffering the consequences. Our eating habits, exercise, and marriage are suffering and we are reapplying ourselves to working on things with more focus. That said, we are still bickering and it sucks. We definitely sync at times, which is good, but a lot more bickering. 

I can't remember the quote or the metaphor or whatever, but I remember someone talking about marriage and a garden or a farm, and how, with the right person, the work that goes into marriage can be enjoyed and in some ways seem easier much like a farmer that loves his land enjoys his work, while the farmer who his mismatched to his trade will be miserable and the work will weigh heavily upon him. 

Even in these hard times when the hubs and I are prickly with each other I still want to do the work, we still make repairs, we still come back together-so while it feels like we're spinning our wheels, I think we'll get where we want to be once we get the help we need, some rest, and put in some good work :)

... and until then, thank the Universe for take 'n bake pizza!

Donated and Update

The hubster wasn't happy about it but today I donated blood for the first time since Baby came along. My iron was just high enough!

It was a little tough having Baby with me. He wasn't allowed in the interview room or the donation area but the ladies working the center helped me out and we all made it through relatively easy. He was a big hit with the canteen volunteer too!

I scheduled next time for an afternoon so Hubbo can watch Baby while I go-thought as I think of it now, a 3:00 PM appointment is cutting it a little close but I can always reschedule or he can come home a little early... I guess I wasn't thinking too clearly right after being drained ;)

In other news, I've been feeling better lately. I'm not sure that my thyroid could be realigning this quickly but just being aware that I was out of whack is helping me cope better and my anxiety seems to have calmed down a bit-though my heart was thumping earlier like crazy! Still need time to adjust. I'm still working on eating better, getting active, and resting more so I'm not feeling hunky dory by any means....

Ugh. Okay. I'm minimizing.

I'm glad my thyroid is getting resolved and my anxiety has gotten a little better but I'm tired and getting frustrated with Baby by the end of the day, my right breast still has a clogged duct or a cyst or whatever that's bothering me and I can't seem to fix it which means I may need to get an ultrasound or at least see a lactation consultant.

My tooth was bothering me after my filling and since it had been 2 weeks I finally owned up to it and called in. Thankfully the dentist was able to make some adjustments and thinks that everything will calm down. I really hope she's right because the idea of getting a root canal is awful!

Our family baseline has been off a bit since my hormones started to settle and my sex drive bottomed out. The first couple months wasn't so bad, those first 6 weeks was like we were newly in love again, but now I'm only interested in having the bed all to myself for sleeping!

I anticipated some issues like this since I figured out the hubster and I are "3-day types." If we aren't intimate about every 3 days we start getting snarly. I tried to work on alternative intimacy activities while I was pregnant but that didn't go over so well-tough to practice alternative forms of intimacy when you still have the "best" option available! I suppose we're just going to have to adjust as we go, more cuddling and talking and less "the whole shebang."

So... It ain't all roses but it ain't so bad lately. We're planning to move this time next month, so change is on the horizon. I'm excited but nervous, I want the change to invigorate me not lurch me into an episode. The hubbo and I are certainly aware of that possibility. We'll just have to prepare as best we can and see what happens!

Feeling Bad Sucks

Yesterday was rough, lots of ups and downs and confusion. A lot of the confusion stemmed from a role reversal-the hubbo feeling like crap instead of me!

He came home from work spent and frustrated but things weren't terrible right off. We had some spaghetti, able to laugh off a terrible moment when he spilled a good portion of his plate on our couch and two pillows, we watched some TV, did laundry, and relaxed with the baby.

Later he was still feeling crappy, admitting that he wanted to her bad stuff like pizza and ice cream (exactly what we've been trying to get away from) but we resisted the easy trip to the store for the bad goodies. In a little while he decided on a different type of food therapy, going out to eat, but a crowd at the restaurant set that idea on its head. We ended up going to Trader Joe's and coming home.

I got frustrated, being hungry and having expected some hot food, backing out of the dining out option didn't go over well. So by evening time we both were chewing glass.

After some arguing and tension the hubbo ended up making waffles with strawberries (as I had offered to do earlier in the evening funnily enough) and we regained some sanity. The sanity was short lived though, and a simple act of moving his hand when I climbed into bed caused his mood to bottom out.

It was awful. He felt rejected and unloved and all his frustration at work created a sucking black hole of negativity. Being tired and a stranger to playing the sane one during an emotional storm, I could see that he was being a negative Nancy, his mind piling on bad things like a runaway snowball, but I couldn't figure out what to do. I was paralyzed.

Unfortunately, being paralyzed made it worse since all he wanted was a "there, there" and a hug and kiss. Thankfully, we've worked hard on our communication skills and he was able to say that's what he needed! It took some grinding gears and certainly felt awkward for me (I'm not a super affectionate type-notes and loving thoughts sure but expressing affection directly is tough) but we made it work. Somehow we ended up cuddled in bed and feeling somewhat better, after a long afternoon of simmering badness!

Overall the experience was uncomfortable, frustrating, and exhausting but at the same time it was a wonderful thing to see how resilient our relationship is and how we can work things out even when things get sad and ugly.  Feeling bad sucks, but not pointless!

At the lowest point of our day I remember he said something generalizing my lack of affection-not offering hugs, kisses, or expressing gratitude, affection, desire etc. Oh boy, it felt terrible. Mostly because I felt it true and saw it as a real issue in our relationship. I'm not sure if it's my terrible self-esteem or what, but I almost always feels like he has a secret resentment or disappointment in me, and hearing him say those things seemed to validate my haunting suspicions. It was the first time I thought, "Oh God, maybe we're not going to work out." I remember looking at our desktop background on the computer and thinking, all these gorgeous pictures of a perfect family will just be bitter memories, pictures with "some guy" instead of my love.

While we worked through that moment, chalking it up to a lashing out, a kernel of truth wrapped up in a lot of raw emotion, it's still something we need to work on. I need to work on... I don't want to be a cold wife. Don't want that example to be set for our children. As affectionate and sweet as I may be in my head or on paper, I can be stoic and distant in real life. I have my moments, but they are rare.... I think it's because being expressive (physically or verbally) requires that one be comfortable with oneself, and that isn't a typical day for me!

A Historical Hypothesis

The hubster and I were "fighting" earlier (it's kinda like a pout-off with spurts of commentary followed by heavy silence before a confession and some tears, growth and moving on) and as I angrily brushed my teeth in my bunker (the bathroom with the door shut) I thought, "This is why women used to go into confinement when they were pregnant, just so they didn't have to hear their husbands ask "Why are are you so cranky?" over and over and over! It's called pregnancy! Get with it!"

This pregnant lady be cranky. I don't think that's totally unwarranted or unexpected but it sure goes over his head sometimes.

Pfffffft.

Babymoon-DONE!

We've declared our babymoon a success, though I must say we took things a lot slower than we anticipated, mostly due to me coming down with a cold shortly after arriving in Canmore :/ Despite traveling with masses of tissues and phlegm we managed to see most of the things we planned for and found some fabulous dining (my taste buds weren't totally defunct).

Our favorite food spots included Trough and OEB with the Trailhead Cafe in Lake Louise a surprising lunch success. Trough and OEB were straight up, best of the best, making it on the list of our favorite food spots ever. The hubster enjoyed a brew at Grizzly Paw but we didn't eat out all that much (well, we've discovered Canadian A&W to be vastly superior to the American version). Instead we managed to eat quite a few meals at the condo and save some cash, which was nice and worked out well with my low energy/food motivation.

We really enjoyed Cave and Basin but the Banff museum was closed for renovations. The scenic drives around Tunnel Mountain and the Icefields Parkway were awesome (a low-flying eagle may have scared the bejeezus outta the hubster at one point) and the mountains blew our minds. They are beyond big up there, as are the ravens (another bird that the hubster was not enthused by-but I sure did!).

The hubster found the teddy bear he wanted for baby in Banff and I found a cute board book with adorable bear illustrations. Otherwise we sent some postcards and snagged some Kinder eggs while the getting was good but opted out of most souvenirs.

Broke in our new camera (we may still be getting the hang of it) and managed to do the Peyto Lake/Bow Summit hike (I was wheezing, I tell ya what), toodle around the Marsh Loop at Cave and Basin, and walk around Lake Louise a bit but not a full trail journey. Between the congestion and general fatigue I was experiencing things were pretty laid back. It was pretty chilly for us too so viewing sites from the warmth of the rental car was a natural alternative!

We found the golden larches I so wanted to see and learned a lot at the Ammolite Factory tour, even saw some new species for us at the zoo in Calgary. All in all, it was a lovely trip with amazing views, only a few hiccups and a lot of pleasant surprises. The hubster seems to be coming down the cold I had during our stay and I unfortunately barfed on two of our three flights but the good definitely outweighed the bodily fluids.

On a side note, we got rather wrapped up with the Canadian news of the week. Sadly our trip coincided with two horrible attacks; our anniversary involved a hit-and-run of two Canadian soldiers and then a couple days later the shooting at Ottawa. Being American we are a bit desensitized to that sort of violence but the fact that it was on Canadian soil really struck us and it was fascinating watching the news coverage and how CTV handled things as opposed to how American news handles such occurrences. I was very happy to see many of the guest speakers and hosts refrain from sensationalizing too much (it still happened but was kept pretty well in check) and focus on positives and national pride more than fear and reactionary statements. Stay classy, Canada.

In other news, I am shocked at how long my hair is! And how pregnant I'm looking.... Starting to sink in! And here is photographic evidence with a lovely grimace...

I'm not a huge fan of head colds or creepy Halloween decorations. It's a double whammy grimace.

Anniversary

This afternoon the hubster was being a little evasive and this is how it went....

"I might need to go run an errand later." He said, avoiding eye contact.

"Like what?" I asked.

"Well, I might need coffee."

"You're outta coffee in the house? What about instant?"

"I'm out."

"You're out of instant!? Did you throw the container away?" (I use instant in recipes and wanted to keep the jar)

"No, no no. It's not coffee."

"What?"

"It's-um-anniversary related." (Referring to buying an anniversary card before we leave for our pre-trip trip tomorrow)

"Oh shit, can I come?" (I had forgotten as well)

Mind you, all this took place while I was sitting on the toilet peeing and he was washing he hands in the bathroom sink beside me. We started laughing to so hard we cried. Our 2nd anniversary and it's come to this!

We leave Monday flight-wise but we are leaving home base tomorrow to spend a couple nights with my parents and to settle the pets there for the week-so anniversary errand time is running short. Adding insult to injury, I make about 40 cards for other people every year but never make my husband's anniversary card (not just wedding, any cards really). So here I am, a card mistress caught without a card!

Life's little jokes...

:)

Abuse Sticks Around Long After The Abuser Leaves!

The last few days have got me thinking about trauma, specifically the sort of trauma resulting from abusive relationships.

The statistics may seem unbelievable, but the more years that pass, the more experience I gain, the more I realize the sad truth is so many women are abused day in and day out. Reading that 1 in 4 women will experience domestic violence seems so outlandish, but I am starting to believe it.

I don't want to delve into details but readers know that I have been a victim of abuse and the last several months I have heard stories from other women in my life as well. The similarities are incredible. Not just between the victims but in the abusive patterns.

Being in recovery and not in the midst of abuse any longer, I am experiencing a new perspective while listening to others' stories. It is terribly sad to listen to these tales of abuse but at the same time there seems to be a hidden blessing, these stories have somehow alerted me to the fact that I am still suffering some long term effects.

It's terrible to think that the abuse perpetrated by one man from my past could be affecting the relationship with my husband today, but I have noticed signs.

The other night I found myself crippled with fear and doubt. I was afraid that my marriage wasn't as sound as I thought, that I was incapable of good judgment and couldn't see the truth. That I couldn't see what type of relationship I was really in, afraid that I was being abused again, that the wool was pulled over my eyes.

Thankfully I was able to communicate this to my husband and he was understanding and reassuring. Funny how my mind could fear an abuser and yet my heart could turn to the same figure for help! I suppose that is how things worked in my abusive relationship except that man would manipulate me in my time of need instead of aid and support me like my loving husband.

My hubster proves himself over and over again to be a worthy partner, loving and caring to a fault. It isn't just how he treats me that lets me know he is safe, it's how he treats others, his mother, his family and his friends. I know he's a good man yet past abuse has left doubt in my mind like a black mold! Having taken advantage of my low self-esteem, my abuser has left a legacy of mental scars including difficulty believing my own feelings.

While I continue to work on my self-esteem, I have noticed my mind slipping back into old habits. My body cowering while I punish myself for not being good enough, for instance, and the sickest part of all-I cower before my husband!

Let me be clear, he is not threatening. Any statement or hint of displeasure (whether or not I may have caused any issue) is transformed in my mind to a put down. A conditioned response from that previous relationship has cropped up in my new relationship. It is sad but thankfully does not happen often.

Other examples involve terrifying fear responses to certain physical interactions. This rarely happens but I recall a few times playing around (we like to rough house and wrestle and chase and giggle and talk from time to time) and my husband underestimated his strength or pinned me too effectively and I panicked. Another instance was more intimate but similar, the fear akin to a panic attack. Talk about killing the mood!

These are small things, inconsistent and not occurring often. Sharing my story and hearing the stories of others has simply brought my attention to these traces of that past abuse, helped me to realize that I'm still recovering. And that's okay.

I will continue to improve and recover and hope that those women struggling with their own abusers will find their ways to safety and peace.

Motherhood

Deciding when to have kids is a complex choice. That decision is further complicated when you are living with a mental illness and further complicated again when you're broadsided a biological clock type hormonal hurricane.

The hubster and I have known that we want kids for as long as we can remember. While I went through a period in my teens/early twenties when I thought that I would be a crazy cat-lady spinster, deep down I have always held close my desire to be a mother. Part of our commitment to each other and of our marriage is becoming parents and making a family together. While we were dating, we weren't just looking for husband or wife material, we were looking for co-parent material.

Of course, when we met we had no idea what the future would hold for us and had no idea what my illness would put us through. During my lowest points and ongoing recovery, my husband has been the holder of our dreams. Not putting any pressure on me and my recovery, but protecting our shared goals and keeping his eyes on the prize. His dedication to our parenthood goals has given me a new perspective of "keeping the faith."

There have been moments, during the lowest times, when I contemplated permanent birth control. Abandoning my dreams of motherhood because of my illness, afraid of what my sickness could mean for potential children. It felt like a suicide of sorts. The hubby recalls those times and remembers knowing that I was irrational but also being saddened, hearing me talking about myself as if I were "subhuman."

The realities of my disease can be grim, but I must also remember that it is a manageable illness. Some diabetics struggle to accept the realities of their disease, attempt to live life as though they are "normal" and put themselves in the hospital with diabetic shock or ketoacidosis. This is just as true for me. I have been lulled into a false sense of security and let my disease degenerate into life threatening situations. That is something I can control. 

On-going stability is something I can manage and improve, but sudden episodes may always be a threat. All the preparation in the world cannot safeguard one against the unpredictable. Just like a diabetic may be caught off-guard without insulin or in a situation where they miss meals, I can be caught off-guard by unfortunate circumstance and launched into a crisis. That is a risk that I must live with, I must accept. It is a permanent specter, a haunting fear that I must heed but not allow control over my life. Living from fear will not protect me from that which frightens me. 

I cannot let fear affect my decision to have a family. Whether it is fear of my disease, failure, or simply fear of the unknown. It is physically, mentally, and emotionally impossible for me to cower and concede to fear. My brain tells me that it's reasonable, natural, hard-wired in me to want a family. My mind tells me that living from fear is wrong, that anything pursued with an open, honest, loving heart is a worthy pursuit. My physical being yearns for motherhood, contriving with my hormones and emotions a dastardly manipulative campaign, a siege on all my senses and sense!

So what does all this mean for me and my husband right now? 

Well, since November I have been off hormonal birth control. We are using alternate birth control and not actively trying to conceive, but parenthood has come up more and more. Being planners, the hubby and I have devised financial and health goals with various benchmarks related to our parenthood plans but have found ourselves confronted with emotional challenges. 

I recently confessed to my husband that as much as I understand and accept the reasonable plans and goals we've devised,  I cannot conclusively postpone my desires. My being continuously returns to motherhood. Any logical argument or fact cannot distract me from these emotions. Trying to hide this seemingly irrational compulsion has been quiet torture. The hubby was at a loss and did some Googling after a particularly tearful discussion and discovered a helpful article online. 

It wasn't completely relevant to us, but it made him realize that planning parenthood isn't as straightforward and clean cut as a business transaction. Trying to be responsible, smart, and cautious we neglected the heart of things. We shied away from the messy emotional stuff, the irrational and intangible. That sassy article gave him a new perspective and helped us broaden our conversation. It also opened our eyes to how complex the emotions of waiting to have kids can become.

Unfortunately, that opening affect also compromised an emotional dike I had built inside and I found myself going a little bonkers! Maybe hysterical is a better word than bonkers. I've found that accepting the feelings, reassuring myself that they will pass, and not trying to ignore them helps and thankfully the hubby is more understanding. We've also realized that intimacy is a little complicated by this. After a sobbing fit post-nookie a few days ago, I realized that when I'm craving conception the "just for fun" stuff becomes an emotional land mine.

We are surviving. Coping with my "baby crazy" is uncomfortable and complicated, but in light of our past emotional accomplishments and crisis management, we feel up to the challenge. I guess this is another example of how hormonal birth control affected me more than I thought, blunting the emotional and hormonal messages in my body it made "baby fever" more manageable! 

Here We Go!

Today is the last day of 2013 and I feel as if I am slipping off the top of a slide, just off the safe plateau, and slipping down into a free fall!

Change comes whether we want it to or not, and even though I like the "idea" of change, actually falling into the process of change and working toward goals for 2014 is scaring me... I'm afraid of backsliding, I'm afraid of failing, I'm afraid of the disappointment.

I have come a long way in 2013 and I don't want to lose that ground, but at the same time I want more. It seems that reaching for more involves risking what you've already got! Life is a gamble.

And this year, 2014, I am rolling the dice!

I don't usually make New Year's resolutions-after all, I put pressure on myself all year 'round, what's so special about a resolution? But this year, the hubby and I (he's a fan of resolutions) have been talking a lot about a "year of change." So here's what we're working on this year.....

1) Health

Continuing health improvements of the mental AND physical variety. Contributing to this goal we have a newly acquired pedometer (neatly lashed to my wrist) and a pending diet to begin after the hubby's birthday Jan. 1st (come on, a man needs a fatty steak for his 28th birthday). Personally I am working on writing more and establishing a schedule to compliment my health goals. We also have a pending "Warrior Dash" on the books for July that we need to get in shape for in order to save face and have more fun.

2) Finances

We've been carrying a lot of revolving debt and this year we want to actually shoot down some credit cards and up the savings (like we've talked about and never really gotten around to before). We're also interested in saving up for a down payment on some sort of abode to stabilize our monthly housing costs and create our first permanent home.

In a somewhat direct way this all funnels toward starting a family and getting to a place where we feel healthy enough and financially stable enough to embark upon parenthood. That said, we're still in the planning stages. With my major depression issues of 2012 not so far behind us and a few major bumps in 2013 still shadowing my memory I see a lot of work to be done mothering myself before I leap toward mothering a new little being.

I guess that sums up our resolutions/goals.

It all seems pretty usual when I type it out, I'm sure lots of people share these goals, but it presents a challenge for us and for the first time in a very long time I feel like taking challenges on! And that's worth acknowledging, I do think.

So I'll raise a brew to a better year than the year before and an even better year to come, challenges and all.

Let's do this!

Happy New Year everyone! May it be a year of change and a year of wellness for all :)

Change Of Pace

Tis the season for ornament work and I am feeling the adjustment period. I can't believe it's already been a year and that I was personalizing ornaments for over ten hours straight without losing my mind last season! This year I'm more aware of the breaking in period and feeling my tolerance grow while remaining aware of my self-care.

Yes, those snowmen are making
s'mores!

That said this past week wasn't a stellar example of personal responsibility. I was able to eat breakfast most days but failed to pack a lunch all week. I remembered a snack a couple of times and have been drinking water while I work, even calling it a day when I start feeling burnt out but before I go nuclear. I know things will only get busier, especially after Black Friday and Cyber Monday, so getting into a lunch habit now will help me prepare for the extra pressure.

Goal set! Lunch everyday at least three times this next week.

Resuming a regular work schedule isn't the only change of pace, I've been adjusting to post-IUD life and tracking my waking temperature for a new type of birth control.  So far I really enjoy it. 

That's an odd thing to say about waking up around 5:00 am everyday to take your temperature, but I have a special affection for "mystery prizes" like quarter machine toys or concealed design mystery items, so having a different temperature every morning satisfies a weird gambling/surprise/mystery urge for me.

The whole "natural birth control" thing is really Fertility Awareness Method, a similar type of birth control to Natural Family Planning although unlike devout Catholics, we're allowed to use barrier methods in addition to tracking fertility. The basic gist involves tracking my waking temperature to monitor ovulation habits and my general menstrual cycle habits as well as tracking cervical fluid to calculate potential fertility and in turn likelihood of pregnancy. 

My DO didn't have a lot of positive things to say about the practice, which I can understand. Every type of birth control has its limitations. For FAM to be effective users have to utilize sympto-thermal tracking and practice discipline when planning unprotected sex. Adding condoms to the mix improves effectiveness. 

As it is, we're on a condom regimen until we've had a few successful months of tracking and gained confidence in the FAM rules and methods. We just have to wait and see if this technique will work for us and if the non-hormonal birth control really improves my mood.

So far I've felt great! I don't think that can be wholly attributed to the IUD removal, but I don't think it hurts. Time will tell.

And I don't necessarily think my crying episode after sex earlier this week was a negative thing... Just out of the ordinary. We think it was hormones. 

Yikes! It was not pretty crying either, totally out of my control and my face contorted into a half-laughing, half-sobbing look that was pretty confusing for my poor husband. Not that I had a total grasp of the situation either.

I think part of it was me feeling guilty about changing up our birth control situation and placing more responsibility on the hubby. An IUD is pretty carefree as far as birth control goes! The hubster reassured me that he was supportive and that we are working together to manage our fertility. He even mentioned some positive changes in my mood since the removal. I felt better, I felt encouraged, and hopefully next time I won't end up sobbing!

As I said, time will tell.

In other news, the battle of the flea-splosion continues and we aren't exactly happy with the effectiveness of our flea treatments so far. Topical ointment and flea baths for the animals and still flea hitchhikers are being dropped all over the apartment. Looks like a second round of baths is coming our way and I'm not looking forward to it.

My 1st Anniversary Trip

The hubster and I celebrated our first anniversary this past week with a trip to Klamath Falls, OR. We went there earlier this year and really enjoyed the area and it was even more fun this trip.

We stayed at the same resort/condo, brought along another audio book, and visited the Lava Beds National Monument again but explored new caves and visited Crater Lake. We stopped by the Woodburn Outlets and the local art gallery and Klamath Basin Brewery again, walked Main Street and tried a new restaurant, WaffleHut. This trip we copied our menu from the last visit with Chicago mix popcorn, mac 'n cheese, peppers, steak, croissants, turkey and mustard and then added some special anniversary treats like our wedding wine and a lemon creme blueberry pie from the same baker that did our wedding cake.

While we did a lot of the same things as our last trip this trip was different in some good ways. 

The hubbo helped me realize that I've come a long way and that we're doing better now than we were in February. My mood has improved quite a bit and I'm off of all anti-depressants! I did have some anxiety over the trip recalling how sour my mood was last time we traveled to Klamath Falls-yes, we had a great time, but I was so cranky!

A good trip, a good year. I"m happy with where we are heading and how far we've come! More soon :)

Framed!

Literally, we got our unity painting framed just in time for our anniversary :)