Well, Hello There Old Friend

Another big life transition. Another bout of insecurity. Another chance to grow. And maybe another chance to get back into blogging ;o)

I gave up teaching and said goodbye to my compatriots at the high school I taught at from 2020-2024 back in May. I made it to the end of the school year after going back to part-time partway through the last quarter. Part of me wonders if I could've held on longer staying part-time, but I'm not sure that's what I really wanted. I quit because of my mental health and even when I was part-time I struggled to be alright. 

It wasn't just the stress and angst of teaching, it was feeling like I wasn't doing right by it all. Imposter syndrome plagued me the entire time I think, but I also felt like I wasn't applying myself. Somehow I cared too much and too little all at once. It sucked at my soul.

I've stayed in touch with my closest teacher friends, but as the school year creeps near I wonder what it'll be like as that classroom and those people become less and less colorful in my mind. I'm starting a new gig soon and it's not something I'm terribly excited or proud of, but it's NOT teaching and I'm glad for that.

Will I be able to cope better with this job? Will I be able to find satisfaction in my work and feel like I contribute? Can I handle a commute longer than 7-1/2 minutes?! Ack! I don't know and I just have to try.

The whole transition away from teaching has stirred up big questions for me. Last November through March I did a bootcamp and earned a certificate in UX design. Now, I've lost momentum pursuing that field. It's competitive. It's a field where you have to stay hip to the jive, and let's face it, I'm a person that actually says "hip to the jive" and remains consistently behind the times. I'm just not sure it fits me as a person. I don't mind being something of a luddite and tech dunce. Give me a physical book any day and I will take notes for you with a pen and paper all day long. It appealed to my creative side and my helpful nature and I loved learning all about the process, but I am not convinced I can succeed there and be healthy there.

So where do I belong? I want to thrive and not feel like I'm barely surviving (a la the teaching life) and I'm wondering about my limitations and expectations. It feels like a re-evaluation is in order... of myself and what I want from this life.

It's a tall order... and possibly another post entirely.

Never No Change

I wouldn't say things have been "shaky" lately, but they've definitely been "squishy." Not quite walking across a rockfield on the side of a steep hill. More like squelching through a muddy riverbank riddled with those rounded river stones. Those stones that seem slightly more friendly than the sharp-cornered mountain rocks that are less forgiving when you fall on your ass.

Not convinced that I'll be falling on my ass soon. I do know that the fear of losing all traction is sitting comfortably in my mind. Whenever physical injury, sickness, or exhaustion forces me to slow down my self-judgment seems to pick up. Even if lying on the couch with a heating pad crammed under my back is the best thing that I can be doing, my mind brings up the 5+ lbs I've accumulated the last few months or the classes that I've yet to peruse for my online degree and-of course-the dishes in the sink or laundry in the hamper.

The fear is familiar. I become agitated, teary, and anxious and can't quite place the source of my discomfort at first. It's the fear. So familiar that it sneaks back into the forefront of my mind with little fanfair.

I may not have caught on, unsure of the source of my anxiety and excess tears, but the fear knows what it's doing. He goes right to work plucking those loose seams from our recent encounters. Those frays so susceptible to those classic judgments he brings with him. I've heard it said that addicts need only one hit to be sucked back into their drug addicitions. I can see how that could be when those hurtful digs start streaming through my mind with renewed gusto. It's difficult not to fall back into the darkest darkness immediately, but I've grown and fought for distance and when I saw those thoughts encroaching-I SAW THEM.

It didn't just happen. I wasn't just taken. I was sitting in bed, getting ready to retire for the night with the hubs beside me. I shoke my head, tears welling in my eyes, a quick inhale, shaky exhale with a shuddering shrug.

"It's not completely unexpected. Is it?" I looked forward, to the corner of the room between our light grey curtains and the mirrored doors of the closet. "Everything, lately. Not just throwing out my back but friends at the gym leaving, coming back from the observation schedule to so much free time. I just haven't figured things out again quite yet."

"It's another transition." His fingers fluttered over my elbow, not quite able to reach my arm for a hand hug, just a whisper of support. "We know these changes get to you. Noticing it is a big deal. It's really important. It's going to get better..."

"Gotta get back on those skills though. I'm running wild with these judgments lately." A few tears escaped and my nose began to run. "Been having those, 'Why me?' thoughts a lot. I know it's pointless. I feel so pouty and off-base."

"It's temporary. We gotta get you back into those DBT tricks and it'll get better."

I nodded. Breathed deep and let myself brush the doubt aside. Even if it were just for now, it would do. I'd done enough thinking. I just wanted to cuddle up with my husband and feel the cool spaces between the duvet slowly warm around us.

Of course, it took some anti-anxiety medication to help me meet that goal, but it worked exactly like it should. A good night's sleep is usually won in my case!

Anyways. The doubts are still stalking me. I'm worried. Unsure. But going at it slowly and trying to think less about the scary signs and more about the tools I can use and the people that need me.

And if I fall on my ass... at least their the smoother rocks and we know exactly what to do if I do.

Something Words Label Here

The days have been indecisive. I know that I've been feeling the same, it just seems like the weather has been more viciously so. My type of indecisive is a quiet desperation for direction, while the weather just likes slapping us all around.

I knew the transition from observation hours back to the old status quo would be challenging like any other change of pace. As it is, this first week feels like a month has passed. I have lost motivation with my studies, found myself wondering if I'm ever going to be able to eat better or push myself more at gym. The judgments have crept in. I feel trapped in an in-between space. I want to improve and yet I'm afraid to strive for fear of the pressure. Pressure. Not quite the possibility of failure, more the possibility of pushing myself to a breaking point, win or lose.

It is a good thing that I want to feel better... there must be a way...

... I don't know.

I do know that some of my gym friends are leaving this summer and I'm already starting to grieve. It was tough enough going to a different class time during my observation hours and now my old class isn't quite going to be my old class anymore.

I do know that the last few days have been especially rough. I've been exhausted and spending lots of time on the couch. At least I've seen the shift and am aware of the downward trajectory, maintaining some perspective on my mood and mental health. Noticing a downturn doesn't mean a bottoming out MUST happen.

It's an awkward, unique experience observing myself like that. Seeing my symptoms crop up and sensing that shift toward a more self-conscious, alienated place. People around me still reach out, chat, include me and yet I feel like I'm being pushed out. It's more of a pulling, I would say. My disease telling me I don't belong, that I'm not good enough. I don't seem to be pushing them away-I'm nice as ever-but I withdraw, pulling myself away.

Oy! 

All this thinking and I've met my quota!

Got to read around a bit today and really enjoyed it <3 Glad to see familiar pages :o)

Take care.

Hannah OUT!

"Ahh" & "Argh"

I finished my observation hours yesterday for my Master's of Arts in Teaching. Over 75 hours observing teachers in action over a month, an arrangement hastily devised on short notice due to my oddly paced schooling.

It was quite stressful for me arranging the observation hours as well as making the transition into such a busy, different schedule and maintaining that schedule/lifestyle change for the month. Lots of driving, frantic meals, messy home space, and bickering with the boys. As aware as I was that I was over-stressed and not able to effectively cope and interact with the hubs and Baby Bananaface, there was/is still some grating there.

Hubster is stressed by his commute and the challenge and effort required by a more demanding job. BB is probably stressed himself by the energy in the house and jostling between daycare and time with Grandma... he's been having some odd potty issues.

This morning, for instance, he took of his pj pants and nighttime nappy (Pull-ups) and instead of going to the toilet as he had been doing for months he grabbed some clothes out of his closet, tossed them on the floor, and pissed on them.

WHAT

THE

HELL

?

This isn't the first time either... he has been doing this "pee on the clothes" thing and even peed in his desk. With my chaos I haven't been able to focus much on it. Now that I'm wrapping up this observation project I'm shifting focus to BB.

Anyhow. You may be able to tell from these flustered words that I'm feeling a bit hair-brained. An "ahh" from finishing the observation hours, and an "argh" for the transition ahead and mothering challenges.

One thing at a time. I know this. Yet my brain keeps leaping around like some caffeine-charged parkour clown.

School. The Hubs. Baby Bananaface. CrossFit. Weight loss. Muscle gain. Better food  choices for out family. Friends. Family. Relax. Work. Treatment. Appointments. Heat. Sun. Burns. Sweat.

I know it's the right thing to take breaks, do puzzles, watch goofy TV shows and drink water... still I feel frantic. It's time for settling down. Transitioning. Trusting the calm again.

It's time to take time.

One thing at a time.



Thinking of you, Hannah :o)

Wading.

It's my second week of observing in high school English classes for my Master's in Teaching.

I started out nervous yet hopeful and I thought that I was holding up pretty well that first week. 

Then Tuesday I found myself thinking, "Is it Friday yet?"

Wednesday my body started weakening.

Thursday I didn't give a damn. I came home and did as little as possible. Puzzles and "The Golden Girls," a heating pad and some tea that evening. No dishes were being done, no niceties exchanged with the hubbo. I was spent.

Then Saturday came some redemption for the week. I participated in my first CrossFit competition. It's been less than I year since I started doing CrossFit and for whatever reason I couldn't get this competition out of my mind and I registered way back when. Way back before this most recent hospital visit. Way back before I felt truly discouraged about the nerve pain and weakness in my arms. Yet, somehow, Saturday was fun. And meaningful. I did something! I did something daring and strange and memorable!

My coach nags me about closing my eyes (Exhibit A)
It's a coping technique of mine.

He says closing my eyes is dangerous (Exhibit B)
And has scared the shit out of me unintentionally multiple times.

Sunday came the deload and wobbles anew.

Saturday was a rush-an all day frenzy of a packed schedule and friends and chatting and cheering. Sunday was so quiet and slow. All the stress of my week and the stark contrast to the day before set me off balancein a way I hadn't felt in a while. It wasn't sneaky, it was unnerving and pervasive. I couldn't decide if I had eaten something bad (nausea) or if I had exerted myself somehow (racing heart) or if I had been exposed to something sad (being on the edge of tears). 

Eventually I took some medication to try and alleviate the anxiety. The sadness I couldn't quite break. It felt like a chunk of coal in my chest and I knew that I needed to cry to break it down. When the hubster left for his man-date that evening, the wall finally collapsed. I was sobbing over spaghetti sauce. Stirring slowly as steam and heat blended with my blushed cheeks and warm tears.

That night I didn't wait up. I didn't kiss goodnight or chat until sleep came. My body was locking up and the few words I managed seemed to break the hubster's heart. I felt utterly ashamed and somehow he felt guilty.

I knew the challenges of pursuing another degree and what it could do to me. I knew that starting observation hours was going to be a big undertaking, especially with a hospitalization just a few months back. It didn't matter. I cracked. I was crumbling. I felt ashamed and didn't want to ask for help; still clinging to health enough to recognize that I needed to ask, to troubleshoot and get on top of things before it got worse.

I'm still in that troubleshotting phase. I'm trying to take it easy on myself and avert complete relapse. 

It feels like I'm wading. A slow tiptoe through a familiar yet obscured stream of events. I can't see exactly what's coming; the slippery surface below feeling new despite the many times I've crossed. The cold water and that steady, unended flow un unfriendly though calm sort of familiar.

Baby steps.

---

Many thanks and fond thoughts to those readers checking up on me! I will try and take a read-about your blogs once I get my schooling for this term wrapped up and my health on track. <3

Today is the Day

Today is the day when the hubs rescued me two years ago. The day I've been calling "my second 2nd birthday."

At the gym people often bring in treats for birthdays. Last night the hubster stood by me in the kitchen as I slowly integrated puffs of confectioner's sugar into a cream cheese icing for my gingerbread mini-cupcake. He asked, "Whose birthday is it?" and I kept quiet, staring into the whirling machine.

He doesn't like to talk about that day. It's understandable how traumatic it was for him! It did sting a little to realize that he had forgotten the anniversary though. I tried to get away with not telling him and in the end, whispered, "It's mine."

He breathed a heavy, "Ahh." Came toward me and pulled me into a hug as our eyes mutually drew tears. Distraught at the memories and then amazed to discover how long ago it felt. We are getting further and further from that day. No matter how messy the year behind went or the one ahead goes, any progress forward is a beautiful victory.

Tonight we get to have a dinner together. I've been struggling with anxiety and tears. Feeling lonely and struggling to reach out to friends that I see nearly everyday. I can speak about it all when asked. It's much more difficult to share out of the blue!


With the husbands' working situation fluctuations of late, we're in a month without insurance. A month when I really should've been in for ECT a week ago and are now having to schedule out for May. It is scary. I've been feeling "off" and weakened, hoping for ECT to help. For now, I'm trying to hang on and be satisfied with less. My schoolwork hasn't been going well.

Ahem.

Moving on. No need to rehash more of what haunts me right now.

Wish I could spend more time here, I really must make sure I eat enough and get enough water after such a work out this morning.

Hope to type again soon. <3 Gratitude, hugs, and love.

Honestly.

I had ECT this morning. Now, it's this afternoon and I'm recuperating on the couch, watching a movie called "50/50." If you haven't seen it, I'd recommend it-just, maybe not on a day when you're keenly aware of your own illness.

Not too long ago I paused the movie and lurched off the couch and creaked down the hall to the bathroom. The boys had been playing for a bit and somehow I couldn't put it together where they were... Mind you, we live in a three-bedroom apartment. 

Standing in that hallway there was an open door to our bedroom on my right, a closed door ahead of me, and an open door on my left to the bathroom. They weren't in our bedroom or the bathroom and I couldn't remember what was behind the door in front of me.

I couldn't visualize BB's room. I could hear the boys playing and I couldn't imagine where they were. I forgot where his bed was, the blue mini-trampoline by the toy box and his bookshelf. I could hear their voices and had no idea the space they inhabited, the physical plane where they existed, what they could possibly look like behind that door.

My breath caught and the tears came. I stifled sobs and ducked into the bathroom, collapsing onto the floor in the dark. My nose ran. I wiped away tears and tried to keep quiet. Sucking air as I scrambled onto BB's plastic IKEA stool, I swiped at the door until it was mostly closed and slumped against the cabinet.

I was sick. I am sick. 

It's not usual for people to forget what their son's bedroom-a room they're in everyday-looks like. It's not usual for people to be getting IV sticks more than ice cream cones. When I can't remember what I read on the gym whiteboard or any part of the Super Bowl that I watched with the hubs, my gym friend, and our sons... it's not average. It's not a personality trait. It's a side effect. 

I'm sick. I'm sick and there's no cure. I can-I have-achieved remissions. I won't always be experiencing such dramatic side effects. I'm still sick. I'm still hitting up the pharmacy more often than most people visit The Olive Garden or some shit... I mean, you should see my medicine "cabinet." Honestly, I should be upgrading my storage options, 'cuz it's a cluster, I tell ya what.

Honestly. That word. It's a tough one for me. I have a difficult time gauging what's "honest" and what's "dramatic." Maybe that's because sometimes the honest truth is dramatic. Well, I don't want to be dramatic and I want to honest, so not only am I writing this post-I'm sharing some pictures that I've only ever shown to the hubs (well, he's not even seen some of them!).

So. Here goes. Some pictures. And more about my experience of being sick-not that I'm nearly as sick as some people! I know that it could be worse. I just want to be honest about how bad it is. I think a lot of it's about admitting to myself what I'm feeling... I've been opening up to some gym friends lately and it's a little confusing being so "chill" when I'm feeling so bad some days-ANYWAYS. Here goes.

I'm just gonna do it. (might've shared some of these before, just so ya know)

Heading into ECT w/ my hair net.
We put gowns over our street clothes
& cram all our belongings into bright green bags
that they leave at the foot of our bed during treatment.
Sometimes I'm lucky and get the Bair Hugger!

I got a butterfly IV today. Really easy stick too!
Took a picture to taunt the hubby-

Guess it's all about perspective, eh?
He's not one for needles-

Annual blood work does him in.
Kind of lucky that
I'm the "sick" one in that way!

Coming out of ECT.
This seems like my uniform of late-
striped cap, green sweater, Crocs!
It looks like I've been crying, although
I'm usually just misty-eyed post-anesthesia. 

Recovering last week at my parents' w/ BB
eating "yee-gurt" and watching Olympics.

Today.
Hard to see the goop on my temple from treatment-it's there.
Watching a movie about cancer made my cap feel way more "sicky!"
Hurt pretty bad post-treatment today.
Worst in a long time.
Getting a bit better now.

Found this from last month.
I can't remember exactly-I think we went
to the ER. The hubs claimed that he called
ahead and that they "had a room." Later
he admitted that he didn't know, he just told me
so to get me to the hospital.
Smart man.

So, I'm lying on the couch with a mass pillows and extra soft couch blankets (we're "couch blankets" people around here) and posting all these pictures... I feel like I've said something and not enough. Earlier, those sobs, that pain, I really, truly, deeply felt it. Now I feel numbed again. "It's not that bad" again.

Tapped for now.

Thank you. Love and hugs and gratitude and smiles. I'm getting back to "my life" more and more, hopefully that means more blogging. Even if it doesn't quite yet, know that I think of you all!

Bonus pic:

Made it to 29!
First official (29 yrs) bracelet :o)
PS: Good game in the background!

Checkin' In

Had my third ECT treatment so far this morning and with the way things are looking-I should be out of here Wednesday.

It's been, well, what you would expect: good and bad.

It's stressful making the adjustment to being "on the unit" and it's going to be stressful adjusting to "the outside" again. I've seen others come and go. I've gotten used to the nurses-especially those that I remember from years ago. At first I was a little ashamed to see them again after all these years (as if I should've "had everything figured out" or something) and now I'm just glad that they're here. It seems like they're used to a little bit of turnaround and they probably don't remember me as clearly as I remember them.

Either way-I'm very grateful for them.

I made a few new friends while I was here and I'll be able to keep in touch on Facebook etc. There was another (newer) mother here that I had particular fun with and I think we will be trying to hook up IRL once things settle down for each of us.

Right now, I'm looking forward to time with the hubs and BB. Baking in my kitchen. Seeing the outside of a building. Drinking some decent fuckin' coffee (for serious, c'mon people, folks be dying in here and ya give them this shit coffee?). *excuse my language plz*

So. I'm glad I checked in for another visit. It hasn't been and won't be easy, although I think everything has helped get me headed down the right path again.

I'm pretty nervous about making the transition with mental habits to get in a healthier spot again as well as transitioning back to daily life with the gym and such. I won't be driving for a bit while we finish up ECT (I've got three treatments this week and then we'll see about doing 3 again next week or going down to 2 and so on).

Not sure when I'll be able to get back to the gym, although it's looking like even next week is going to be a bit of a strain. Going on week three now that I've been away? No... yeah. This is week three. I was gone a week when my sister-in-law came to stay with BB and I, last week while I was in hospital, and now I'm entering into the third week. Jeesh. Could be a month out of the gym... Oh well.

Priorities.

One day a time.


Thank you everyone <3

Still Here

Tomorrow the hubster foiled my would-be attempt by having my dad drop by the apartment unannounced. My dad took care of BB while I slept most of the afternoon (or laid in the dark contemplating new strategies) and until the hubby got home that evening.

Apparently the hubster got me into a drug trial down in Portland. Since things with ECT have slowed down because of needing that EKG and bloodwork (which seems so simple) he wanted to act more quickly.

Feeling broken. Broken and split. I can feel that my brain isn't working. Part of me feels like ending my life is the best thing for everyone involved. Part of me sees the illness and a life worth living as separate... as the hubster was having me say last night, "I'm out of my mind." That bout covers it.

One day at a time. Gonna be under supervision for foreseeable future. Can't blame them considering I was driving in the rain without my windshield wipers on going 55 in the right lane completed spaced yesterday...

Life is messy right now.


Had a few interesting dreams and stories to share-maybe later. My head hurts and food must be consumed.

Be well.

Hi Again

It's been a little over a week now since the hubster got laid off.

It's been rocky and at sometimes suspiciously smooth. A confusing mash of understanding and support jumbled up with grief and misdirected anger.

Already having been in the midst of a recovery period and trying to regain some of the balance I lost during the summer living with my family makes me feel more vulnerable. Not that unemployment at any stage of stability wouldn't be a nuke on anyone's life.

There has been some down swings along with a few upswings. The more problematic symptom has been anger. Outbursts, violence, bickering, and eventually the shame and sadness that usually follow my angry moments.

Thankfully the violence has been limited to slamming my fists on a table, flicking or throwing something (not at anyone or to break anything), and yelling. It's still embarrassing and I know that it stresses Baby Bananaface. The hubs and I aren't used to this level of... angst and expression. Being the types that don't just let things lie means that we struggle to shelve things in order to discuss them in a more appropriate way. Things just erupt wherever and whenever.

Even during these rough times, we know that we are committed to one another and strive to improve. We know things will get there. Baby steps.

The holidays are coming.

My nephew's birthday is Saturday. We haven't heard of any party or anything. Wouldn't be surprised if we weren't invited, or invited last minute with the hope of us not being able to make it sort of thing.

We are going to send him a gift and card in the mail tomorrow, just in case.

The journeys across state for Thanksgiving and Christmas are a little worrying. Expenses and potty training complicate things. Our little commuter car isn't something we like to drive over the pass-let alone put more miles on-and we hate to spend money on a rental right now. We shall see how things work out.


Off to errands and chores.

Thank you for commenting! I'm sorry that I can't respond to everyone lately or read around. I do miss everyone and look forward to catching up more thoroughly soon :o)

Hi Again

It's been awhile. Life has been whirling and I've been day-to-day, focusing on staying steady.

Feels strange to be on this screen again... familiar and yet not quite cozy. I'm going to try something a little different and we'll see what happens as I write this update!


A) AMBIGUITY - This is always a part of life and lately I've had a few scenarios in which I have had to mindfully accept ambiguity.

One has to do with CrossFit and a coach there. I have been experiencing anxiety wondering if she will be at the gym or if she will punish us before class or say something mean or look at me in that uniquely punitive and demeaning fashion.

That's my safe space and it's being threatened. I am not sure if she is simply going through a rough time (and even so I'm not sure if I can manage to empathize enough to counter balance my distress) or if this is just how she is going to be. I have considered trying other class times but fear losing connection with my new friends... we shall see.

Another case of ambiguity relates to my husband's family. There has been conflict between the siblings on-and-off for years. At the moment there seems to be a flare up regarding his brother. We had a good visit with him and his daughter and plan to maintain a neutral position while the sisters muster their forces.

There had been plans for the entire family to get together this Christmas. Now that's in the air. I don't like ambiguity with big holidays or events, so I hope it gets ironed out soon regardless of the plan-I just need to know!


B) BRIGHT EYES - I got some good news!

I have applied for grad school in order to obtain a Master's in Teaching-English. I didn't realize at the time that my individual classes would be evaluated and that my degree all by itself wasn't a golden ticket! When the enrollment counselor mentioned this I was very anxious to see if my classes would meet prerequisite requirements and whether or not I would have many courses to complete before my program classwork could commence.

Well, the evaluation came back and I was only short three requirements. I submitted course descriptions and syllabi and got two of those classes applied as well! All that remains is a public communications class because I decided to take "Interpersonal Communication" during high school instead of a 101 class...

Whatever. I am quite pleased! My hope of beginning the program before the year still glimmers... with a self-paced class I should be able to bang out that public speaking credit pretty durn quick.


C) CONFLICT - While things have simmered a bit in regards to my living situation, there has been increased tension between my folks.

It seems to be cooling a bit now. Last week it was more troublesome. My mother usually stuffs her frustrations with  my father and his consistent absence and neglect. Every once in a while she will boil over and this time that meant bickering with my dad as well as snapping at my sister and generally losing her cool.

The conflict is stressful for me even if I'm not directly involved. As far as tension with the hubs and I directly, things have been pretty quiet. We gave notice and have a moving date and I think everyone has just been biding their time. Awkward at times, but better overall.


D) DAGNABBIT - I am still navigating injuries. My shoulder and some wee tendons/muscles in my upper arm are bothering me on my right side. My right ankle is still healing up. My left shoulder/arm are still bothering me in regards to my thoracic outlet syndrome (numbness, tingling, weakness). I am also quite tense in my chest and shoulders which means icing and heating pad and stretching and... ugh. It's one thing dialing it down at gym, it's another when just LIVING is a challenge and uncomfy/painful.

Another dagnabbit... had a panic attack today. Damn box jumps. Wasn't completely awful. Couple minutes running cold water over my wrists and splashing my face, mindful breathing, and censoring judgments helped get me back to right.


Well. I have to get ready for my occupational therapy appointment now. I hope that I can make more time for blogging and not only read and comment but post more too! It's... it's good. Need to get back on this horse!

Thanks for being here readers-TTFN :o)

Catching Up

Feels like it's been too long since my last post. I have had so many different ideas for posts between then and now. I'm sure that I won't be able to post them all (I've forgotten some ideas already, I'm sure) so I'll just throw together a variety into a "Catching Up" post and call it good!



How am I doing? 

Not awful and not great. The hubs told my folks that we'll be moving out at the end of the month and I feel like the dynamic has changed a bit. Either way, I was pretty stressed spending more time with my family the last few days. We did have a pretty good time a local fair:

Anxiety levels are up. Garbled speech. Tears at CrossFit. Bickering with the hubs. Suppressed appetite combined with comfort eating. I've been able to cling to an awareness that it's my illness although I'm quite aware that I could easily slip into a dangerous space in a moment's notice. Last night I began feeling like I wanted to wander off down the street to escape stress and I was able to catch the thought and navigate out of that danger zone.



What's new?

September is National Suicide Prevention Awareness month here in the US and I wanted to do something special on my Facebook page. Instead of one special post, I'm going to post several times about suicide prevention. I haven't shared anything specific about my personal story, although I feel like I will at some point.

It's still quite taboo. My first family won't really talk about it. I can talk openly about it with the hubs and my in-laws though. I make it a point to be open with friends and acquaintances about my experiences and where I'm coming from too. I try not to overshare (even when suffering from social anxiety my mouth seems to have a tendency to just keep moving) and I also don't beat around the bush.

Going through what I went through and having felt so lonely and rejected for so many years I feel compelled to act as an advocate. I think it's a part of me that I wasn't quite aware of before, because while breastfeeding I acted as an advocate as well! Hmm... Anyways. Sharing my story has been mostly well received so far. Sometimes there are awkward moments-sure-overall I've had positive experiences.

Also, re-injured my ankle. Still nursing the thoracic outlet syndrome issues too. Frustrating.

That kinesia-whatever tape AIN'T NO JOKE!

Any plans?

I have plans to hang out with a gal from CrossFit and her son (whom BB adores) outside of gym. I'm not only excited to hang out for fun's sake, I'm excited to be practicing my social skills! We've already ventured out after CrossFit a couple times with other moms and kiddos. Even went to a happy hour with some other adults one evening with the hubs. Baby steps :o)

I've also made plans to meet up with a friend up north to go check out a glass pumpkin patch. I'm excited! I suspected that I had wanted to do this for a long time and hadn't been able to (the hubby confirmed this for me) so I'm happy to finally get around to it. I love glass art and I think it'll be a great way to break into fall.

Pending plans also regarding my schooling... I sent in transcripts and am waiting to hear back from an online college whether or not my degree includes all the pre-reqs they want in order to begin my Master's in Teaching-English.



Feel like life's a bit messy right now. Spinning a lot of plates and such. Bit hectic and confusing and feeling out of control, but I'm able to set that aside and let things roll. I'm doing what I can and I don't want to get caught up in the details. One thing at a time. Momentum will keep things going, I don't need to manage each tiny thing!


I hope.... ;o)



Happy September and I hope to do some catching up on other blogs very soon!

Identities

I'm sure I've written about this before here. It comes up rather often for me, so it may just be a recurring theme in my life! As the hubster just comforted me, "It's the BPD. You have identity issues." That's okay.

So.

This morning as the hubster, Baby Bananaface, and I were eating brekkie we overheard my sister talking to her baby daddy about their mutual birthday gift idea for my nephew. He'll be turning two this fall and they've decided to go in on a motorized miniature Humvee for him. Not our style or something we see as appropriate for a child that age (or even BB's age).

Shortly thereafter I was in the shower and found myself playing out a scene in my head. It got me wondering if my sister sees our different parenting styles in a competitive light. I hope this isn't so as much as I struggle with insecurity and competitiveness, so I understand how she might feel.

The competitive conflict triggered my identity insecurities. While the initial trigger was related to parenting styles, I found myself thinking about my labels. I have embodied a klutzy fat girl persona for so many years it seems as much a part of me as my "Eeyore" identity in my family.

These labels, these judgments, stem from comparison and either/or thinking. In my case, the teasing and criticism over the years has reinforced and amplified these issues; I believe it's a symptom of my family's insecurities...

I've been seeing it come up at my gym among other places. Living with my family has made it extremely hard to avoid backsliding into those negative cycles and cowing to their teasing. I know part of me is my humor, there are more and more times of late when it comes up as a defense mechanism. Being around my family has made me slip back into my klutzy, fat girl routine. Even if I don't finish last or lift the lightest weight, I feel like the CrossFit caboose. I play down my abilities, doubt myself, and get caught up in chronic comparisons.

The constant internal critiquing is exhausting and debilitating. I had made a lot of progress with my self-confidence the past several months before moving here. Lately, it's been hard to stay comfortable in my body and appreciate the changes since I started working out.

My family may be varsity athletes, collegiate-level athletes, and nationally ranked athletes. That doesn't mean that I can't be athletic too.

I suffer from chronic depressive episodes. That doesn't mean that I can't be a happy person.

I carry extra weight. That doesn't mean that I have to ashamed and self-conscious.

There are so many negative habits from my first family that I have to fight back. These are just some of those habits that have become tangled up in my disorders.

It can be so confusing and destabilizing! No wonder I have to write it out from time to time ;o)


Wishing everyone a happy weekend! As far as my health status of late, I've been feeling much safer although the hubs and I keenly aware of my fragile status and susceptibility right now. We've been working in more time out of the house and avoiding triggers. Our backup plan involves me moving in my in-laws for a bit if things get dangerous again.

<3

Back on the horse.

Today has been a better day and I'm not wasting much time when it comes to looking forward and making positive changes.

Recommitting to my health means a lot of work in many different realms. Mind, body, and soul-it's all connected and I need to reestablish a healthy balance. So here's some stuff I've recommitted to working on:

1.  Physical health.

I twisted my ankle over a month ago and haven't let it recuperate fully. I've also been experiencing progressive numbness and tingling in my arms, wrist pain, and difficulties grasping or pinching for several weeks now. 

My primary care provider suspected carpal tunnel and then a coach suggested that I look into thoracic outlet syndrome and wouldn't ya know it! Spot on. I saw an occupational therapist yesterday and boy howdy. Talk about some good hurt.

It's gonna take a while to heal up and I have to make long term changes, but I'm so glad to know what's going on and have a good direction to head in.

Healing injuries is one facet of my physical health. Focusing on my workout instead of letting my anxiety hijack my "treatment" time is another vital part of my physical health. Improving my diet, getting better sleep, and spending more time outside are other important items to work on. (Yes, these can be considered DBT skills)

Maintaining my physical health not only helps with mood stability, it also helps with self-esteem and resiliency. When I do have bad dips, being in better physical health means bouncing back quicker. 

BB gunning after more dates
(I think he's getting more deliberate playin' that "cute card!")

2. Mind.

I've fallen out of practice with my DBT skills. Being around my family has meant a lot of triggers and a lot of pressure toward bad habits. Moving away is the biggest, most helpful step toward regaining my mental stability. The move isn't going to happen instantaneously-though I can begin working on my DBT immediately. 

The top three things I'm going to work on first? Catching judgments, utilizing distraction and participation, and self-care. 

Catching judgments is a helpful way to veer away from black-and-white thinking. It's helped me tamp down my suicidal impulses and negative self-talk. Distraction and participation help with my anxiety as well as not getting carried away with depressive rumination. Self-care means a lot of things for different folks; for me it means mindfully pursuing healthier habits including: bathing, eating well, hydrating, doing my hair more often, putting on "real clothes" instead of PJs all day, and so on. 

DBT skills address body, mind, and soul-true-for me it falls mostly under "mind" because it takes a lot of mental work!

Hospital visit.

3. Soul.

Healing a broken heart means acknowledging the damage and while I've discussed this many times before, I am recommitting myself to creating healthy distance from my family. I found this article very helpful and am continuing to read and muster my defenses and conviction.

It's been so very difficult for me to cope with the intense feelings of (in my mind) letting my family go. I think doing some reading, writing some key points down, and actively pursuing progress will help me make some progress which should garner more stability and health and PEACE!

I also find DBT skills helpful in achieving peace and soothing my soul. 

Heh, when I was in DBT they talked about it as a lifestyle change and not a contained treament. Yep. I can vouch for that ;o)

It's a lot of work and that's okay.
"It's what I do."
(This is from "Alpha House" BTW)

So. I've written somethings out. I'm getting back on the horse. One good day at a time is great, but I'm working toward getting those weeks of remission at a time, and that means a coordinated attack. 

That said, it's all about baby steps. The dance I have to do to maintain health is complex and I've fallen out of practice. Now it's time to relearn it and get my groove back. One step at a time.

Acknowledge, Accept, Engage

Ya might think this will be a political post and it isn't. The truth is that I've been having a rough time and I haven't posted about it because I'm self-conscious about posting too often and/or posting incongruous posts. Well, that's life with mental health diagnoses. I can have glorious moments on family vacation and horrible lows all in the same week-or day.

So here goes.

The Friday before we left for our road trip I had my first full-on panic attack in months. My anxiety had been elevated for weeks and I think the pre-departure stress put me in a very vulnerable position.

The class that day was probably around triple the usual size because of an altered schedule that week. We were doing an exercise that involved many people dropping barbells almost in unison. That first round put me over. The tears came on, my body began shaking, my heart rate sky rocketed, and a flush came over me beyond my workout glow.

I grabbed my water bottle and purse, bounding into the front room to haphazardly open my emergency pill container that dangles from my wallet at all times. Between the shakes and my restrictive weightlifting wrist bands it was quite a task! After popping my pill I ran cold water over my hands and face before grabbing some frozen sponges and taking some time to walk around outside to calm myself. A friendly childcare/office lady talked with me during this time and helped me calm down as well.

Yesterday, I had to run out of a workout again.

I haven't been able to manage my anxiety the last several weeks and injuries preventing me from engaging in my workouts as I'd like have been quite upsetting. With the elevated anxiety I wasn't able to think straight and ask my coach for help scaling, instead I panicked when the workout began and subsequently walked out before a full blown panic attack struck.

I collapsed on the grass in the sun outside the gym and cried.

My coach hollered from the warehouse door to see if I was okay and I told him it was anxiety and that I'd be fine.

Later, after the workout, he asked if I wanted to talk about it. I started crying and shrugged my shoulders. He asked if the anxiety just "cropped up" and I told him that it had been a problem for a while. This time, it was more than anxiety though, the suicidal impulses have returned. I told him that I had some mental health diagnoses that involve anxiety and chronic suicidality. That these disorders require me to work out frequently at a certain intensity or things can get dangerous for me. My injuries have been gumming that up.

He thanked me for talking to him and I thanked him as well. A couple other folks inquired as to my well being and wished me well.

I love the support I've received there. It does freak me out that I'm experiencing such intense symptoms where I feel most safe. I can understand it, sure, I'm just concerned that I can't even relax at my relaxing place.



I'm very scared. The dips are persisting longer than they have in a long time. I've had suicidal episodes since moving here, they were acute though. This is a different animal. A slippier animal.

The hubs has pushed things into high gear looking for alternate housing. I've been trying to avoid my family as much as possible. I still need to pull out my DBT book and focus on really working some skills...

My brain is slow yet my thoughts are fast.

My body is weary yet I can't relax.

I have to acknowledge this isn't just a little dip. I've had a few intense episodes since the move and this isn't that. It's been a slow, sneaky descent. I find it more difficult to recognize the dark logic as my disease and I'm starting to romanticize suicidal ideations.

I feel like I'm walking a very dangerous line. I feel desperate. I am afraid. And I'm crying at the drop of hat-more and more in public and when driving (not exactly safe).

Moving here was a bad, bad idea. I came in with the best intentions, trying to tamp down the fear and focus on meeting the challenge, but I have to retreat.

Over and over I think, "my family is killing me," and it haunts me. I feel guilt. I feel anger. I don't think they mean to and yet a sense of victimization overwhelms me. It isn't fair. Why me? So many other people have it so much worse... It's so messy. It's so hurtful. They aren't safe. This can't be malicious, you can't hold them accountable for ignorance... I feel like they would be offended and confused to hear this and yet I can't deny it. I don't want to hurt them, I don't want to blame them (though it is so hard to delineate between fact and blame for me)... but a cut needs to be made. I need to excise this threat.

Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain for staying, pain for leaving.

I suppose my brain chemistry at the moment doesn't help either.



Hope this isn't too incoherent. Thanks for being here, from vacation to crisis :o)

Commercial Breaks

It would seem that this MTV special (AKA my sister's life) is ongoing and trying to script in my family.

We had a wonderful trip to visit my in-laws. Parks, visiting old friends, good food, and good talks. It was relaxing and rejuvenating. Maybe just not rejuvenating enough.

Our weekend was marred by confusing texts and snaps from my family. My sister and mom would snap happy, silly, goofy stuff that would make me feel like everything was simmering down and everyone was moving on. Then we'd get texts about "I talked to my lawyer friend..." or "I really need to know if you or [the hubster] had anything to do with this."

It's like the good times were just short commercial breaks from all the shit! Confusing and stressful!

At one point we were out to dinner with the hubby's sister and had a great, in-depth chat about the CPS system and how investigations work. She had worked at APS for a while and knows people in CPS so she was a great resource.

That chat calmed me down a bit and then more crap came down the tubes. Some more texts freaking me out and pissing the hubster off. He ended up calling my father and telling him, "this needs to stop, Hannah is not handling the stress of this well and hasn't been very good overall the last couple months and we need to make sure she stays safe."

Apparently they seemed to reach a reasonable place of understanding and the next time my sister texted us the hubby took over and told her to stop harassing his family which seemed to shut that down.

Still, I was really anxious about coming back from our mini-vacay. I expected the Ice Queen treatment from my sister, what I didn't expect was my anxiety presenting in an overly chatty, outgoing type of way that was really confusing for everyone...

The hubs kept telling me I needed to get it together and then things spiraled a bit. It was a bad night. Thankfully not suicidal although there were definitely a lot of self-harming urges. I ended up sobbing quite loudly into my pillows at one point because I was so frustrated with the whole kit-n-kaboodle: living here, my sister, my parents, my nephew, my family's well-being, the pets.... The dam broke.

The next evening my mother returned from her trip outta state. I was very anxious to see her and confused a bit by the mixed emotions I sensed during the initial "welcome back" conversation. She was giddy and sharing all her travel stories and then took a break to go do laundry or something. After she returned, the atmosphere became darker, stressful and she said something like, "Well, I know there was some action that went down here while I was gone and we're gonna be talking about that."

It felt ominous and threatening and my already heightened anxiety stepped up a few notches. Thankfully I didn't cry and was able to say something like, "I can't talk about that right now. My anxiety has been really bad the last week."

It feels like a witch hunt. I haven't felt entirely safe here anyways and now I feel like I'm constantly on guard.

I don't know how things will work out and I'm trying to avoid replaying possibilities over and over in my head. That said, I think I've come to realize that living around my family just isn't healthy for me and waiting around for them to become safe to be around isn't a safe choice. I don't know what things will look like in the future, it certainly doesn't look like we'll be living around this area for much longer.

I'm okay with that. I'm okay with distancing, I'm okay with building a life that works for the hubby, BB, and myself that might not involve my family. It will probably be tricky and emotionally rocky, I think it will be worth it though. I need to get back on that positive progress path and keep moving onward and upward. I don't want to be stalling out and backsliding and getting entrenched in childhood muck over and over...

I'm moving on. It's a big rope tying me to this baggage and I'm starting to saw away at it. Come what may.



***Whew. That felt pretty dramatic.... talking about my sister's life being an MTV special and I just felt like I was in "Pirates of the Caribbean!"

About a year ago now...

This time last year I started to go to the gym and began working up to my new gym regimen and lifestyle change.

I took a little gander at some of the posts from back then and it made me appreciate how far I've come since then. The changes are more than just muscles and weight, there are so many emotional and mental changes too!

Here's some pics:

I had come a long way from my darkest days last spring and at the same time I was still in a rough place. It was, after all, around that time I had my attempt. I think this past year has been when I've really reached a healthier, safer place---a place where I can say "remission" and truly believe I've reached a good point in recovery regarding my postpartum depression.

It's still a daily battle maintaining good health and emotional stability. I feel much more capable and skilled when it comes to wellness than I did then!

Thank you all for your continued support! Looking back helps me appreciate even more all the people that have been by my side during these tough times as well as my own hard work. Generally it ain't good for me to dwell in the past... sometimes it's good to make a little visit though ;o)

Baby steps. One day at a time. Onward and upward!

Challenge

I just wrote about the 51%-er mentality and wouldn't ya know it-it came up with force this weekend. Funny how a certain level of awareness and insight can mean baloney in the real world!



I went to my first Saturday CrossFit workout. They're different from the weekly classes because they allow anyone and everyone to attend instead of limiting the class size. It's busy and a bit confusing, at least for this newbie. The workout of the day was quite intimidating and considering how much the veterans were groaning made me feel like I had no chance at all. Not to mention the stress and anxiety of a new, challenging social environment.

I felt isolated. Alone. Delusional and highly doubtful that I had any chance of making a complete fool of myself. Before we even started talking about the workout I noticed my heart rate was heightening, my breathing shallow, my eyes tearing, and the familiar desperation of panic creeping toward my chest. I managed to pull it together-including the other opportunities during the workout when I was ready to breakdown.

Anyways.

The workout as prescribed involved such:
>1 mile run
>100 pull-ups
>200 push-ups
>300 squats
>1 mile run

I had to modify since I can't do pull-ups yet or very many full push-ups. I did jumping pull-ups and box push-ups. I also partnered up with someone so we could each do half the prescribed numbers. We did that for most of it except we got mixed up with the pull-ups and we each did 100 of those.

I did. I was slow. I was hurting. My last mile was in slow-mo and even though I was alone and trudging, I never stopped shuffling. I didn't stop and walk, I kept going. Reminded myself it was a competition. At the end my partner returned and cheered me on and encouraged me enough that I could whip up all my last energy to run faster to the end.



After it all, I was proud of myself. It hadn't been perfect. I still felt exiled from the "official CrossFit gang." Still, I tried to focus on the fact that it had been my 7th day at CrossFit and I hung in there during a notorious workout.

Getting home and sharing with my family was disappointing. They seemed dismissive and not interested in details. I felt like a failure again. I felt alone again. I showered and tried to be productive, I was just too spent from that morning's workout. Rested up a bit and then got back to chores and such.

Unfortunately, the fancy cake I was gonna try to make again blew up in my face. The fucked up sponge was enough to rankle me quite thoroughly. Then I ruined the first steps to my buttercream and gave up. I had been so agitated when I started baking. The hubs said I had said the f-word more in five minutes than I had in two weeks altogether. He was right!

My mind found every little thing to be mad at and whipped up a rage in me. That angry mixed with deep sadness left me in quite a state. After I officially bombed the cake and gave up, I took a sparkling water and wandered out to the side of the house to breath and try to let it go.


Really struggled today embracing that 51% mentality. I'm afraid of where this mood instability is going. Not convinced that I'm making any progress in trying to radically accept my family.

I think the growing pains with the CrossFit gym and navigating a new social arena (extra stress) on top of the ongoing stress of living with my family has destabilized me, I was hoping the new gym situation would help give me relief-and to a degree it does-there are also a lot of stressful facets to it.

Whew. Basically, I'm still learning. I'm still trying. Many moons ago when I started at the Y I was the nervous outsider without a clue and then I became a memorable face. I have a chance at doing the same there here, it's just gonna take some time.



Willingly took Ativan this morning. Usually its the hubster that suggests such a thing. This morning I was struggling and becoming highly agitated so quickly, I knew I couldn't manage without something drastic. On top of the Ativan I turned on Pandora on my phone and plugged my headphones in to drone out the noise around the house. It was all too much. A slammed cabinet or a dropped child's toy sent me into shakes and agitated breathing.

At one point after cutting into a bag for a baking project I got the urge to cut. Thought that just a little scratch on my wrist wouldn't be a big deal. Then I thought that any scratch was a big deal. I started shaking and closed my eyes against a flow of tears. I struggled to discard the scissors and ended up tossing them toward a counter and backing toward the freezer to put iced sponges on my face. My mom noticed and I told her to get rid of the scissors. After a few minutes I got back into my recipe and calmed down a bit. Still afraid of what could be coming if that urge was that strong.



One day at a time. One damned minute at a time.

Departure

Today has been a break from routine as was yesterday. It's a bit stressful and at the same time a wonderful departure. I've been making the long(ish) drive north back to our "home" area for a few appointments. I've been able to reconnect with friends, cruise familiar places, and have some plain ole solo adventure time.

After having a nice long chat with a DBT friend I'm feeling more aware of the hazards regarding living with my family. Another friend I met with yesterday had expressed similar concerns without the DBT language and it raised flags just didn't settle in the same way. Today, my friend and I spoke in "technical terms" and the mechanics of it all sunk in a bit more.

Honestly, I haven't been living as mindfully as I want to lately. The stress of our living situation and trying to navigate the dynamics of my family--old norms and blossoming habits--it's been occupying a lot of space in my brain. The distraction can be good, it can also be a sort of trap. "Woohoo! Hannah, look over here!" *CLANG* "Oh shit, guess there was a bear trap there...." Hopefully that makes a modicum of sense haha

So, it raises the hair on the back of my neck talking honestly about my living situation and the transitional period we're in. It also gives me a sense of calm... a sort of zen moment that may allow me to refocus and engage in a more skillful approach to my challenges in the hopes of maintaining the progress that I've made and avoiding backslides.

I already feel that I'm sliding. My affect and turn of phrase morphing back into my (enter maiden name here) role. That constant joking, sarcasm, and teasing overtaking my conversations instead of genuine, purposeful, thoughtful words that I prefer and appreciate. I think that's part of what was so relieving having that Saturday night just me and hubster. No pressure, no walls, just being us and knowing that we're loved and accepted as-is.

I'm still working on developing my "life worth living" and asserting my personal values. One of those values is being genuine and forthcoming. No hiding. No pandering. Building the belief within myself that I'm worthwhile and have a right to be here and that I'm worth something-a lot of that practice comes from using my voice and speaking my truth. Being myself. Not living in a way that reinforces shame and fear. Not exactly accepted practice around my first family...

Still very intimidated by trying to maintain this practice in this environment-I think I'd go as far to say "unhealthy" environment. I don't want to over-dramatize; my DBT friend even said, "It's one thing to practice these skills and keep yourself on the right track when in your own safe bubble-it's quite another when you're thrust back into the middle of what made you need DBT in the first place!" Amen.

There's a taste of what's goin' on with me ;o)



In other news, I'm going to see my fabulous OBGYN for my pre-op appointment in just a little bit. I took care of a call from the surgery paper pushers regarding basic health questions (very nice gals, just felt a little "shouldn't you have all this from my files already?" guess it's better to be safe.)

I'm still excited to have the surgery performed although I'm getting a little worried about the recovery period. They say I'll need about a week of down time and then I can work back up to my regular activities. Having just started with CrossFit, I'm not sure how that will go... I'm pretty good at telling what I can do and what I can't. Maybe it's just one of those "wait and see," "you'll know when you get there" types of things? I just don't want to take too much time off when my exercise is such a cornerstone of my mood management.

My mother was minimizing the procedure. Felt a little... invalidating? Insulting? I don't know, "enter negative feeling here." Anyways. Maybe it won't be that bad. That'd be great. In the meantime, I will try to be prepared for a challenge. I tend to handle pain pretty well and heal relatively quickly *knockonwood*

Hoping everyone is doing well and that my northern hemisphere friends are enjoying this shift toward summer weather. I'm a little miffed with how hot it got so abruptly! I am enjoying the sunshine ;o) Hoping that I'll cope with the heat a little better being comfortable wearing tanks and shorts this year instead of t-shirts and capris. Just a little bit of fabric makes a big difference to me!


Happy Humpday <3

*fingerscrossed*

Yesterday was a close call!

 I stuck to my routine and made it to the gym for my cycle class. Unfortunately, Baby Bananaface wasn't up to handling Playcare. They pulled me outta my class after about 15-20 minutes :o(

After that my mood started slipping. I was better enough to realize why and evaluate some options to try and fight the slide. My resolve crumbled pretty quickly though. My mom was supportive as far as encouraging me to hit another class ASAP. I just wasn't comfortable going to a noon class or one around dinner because of my obligations to BB. My family doesn't really appreciate the value of consistent schedules or nap times, so I try very hard to stick around and get those goals met.

Anyways. She saw me getting slack-faced and staring into the distance and recommended the rowing machine upstairs. I was noncommittal in my response and after a few moments she pointed toward my chest with an assertive jerk of her arm and said, "You get upstairs on that rowing machine."

I didn't appreciate the approach one bit AND I mustered up the courage to tell her so after the fact! In that moment though I was able to recognize how necessary it was for me to get a good workout ASAP and went upstairs to try the rower.

After plugging in my headphones and getting into a groove I managed to have a pretty decent workout. My mood improved pretty thereafter as well. A hot shower and some chores and a few rests (HGTV for the win) and I was getting back into the groove of things.

This morning my improvement has continued and I'm getting back into a proactive mindset. I've been emailing with the CrossFit gym the hubs looked into for me and I'm giving them a try tomorrow morning. I'm nervous and excited. I really hope it's a good fit and I'm still nervous about the level of intensity and fitness.

One day. One hour. Baby steps.

Oh! Baked some awesome bran muffins. Hope to post a picture of a luscious pie later this week ;o)

Thanks for being there for me, friends. Wishing you all a good week wherever you may be :o)