Rehab

I have so discovered that I am in the process of becoming a "Recovering Perfectionist".  Who knew? 
For those of you who knew me prior to age 23 you may be thinking "What is she talking about", yes, prior to age 23 I was a complete and total self acknowledging SLACKER.  Prior to age 23 I would go where the wind took me, looking for every party and social event.  The only energy I really put fourth was to conger up a good time.  Yes, that was then.  Around age 23 I unknowingly did a complete 360.    I didn't dawn on me that I needed to be different, it just happened.  I still had a good time but was not a slacker.  It could be because I had recently eloped with someone I knew only a couple of months while we were drunk in Las Vegas, it could be because I was soon going to be a mother... I don't know, but it happened.  In the past 12 or so years I have become the most efficient, routine, republican, scheduled person ever.  I get reports done early and with a little "extra" added to make the process better or easier for the other person, when I instruct coworkers on how to do things I contemplate every question that could be asked and I make sure to address all the different peoples personalities in the instructing, when I have to do a certificate for someone I add a few blingy rhinestones just so that person receiving the certificate feels extra special (because they should), I take on extra things because I feel they are important and should be done "well" like adopting families at Christmas, and making sure their Christmas rocks!...  At home I want the kids to eat dinner at a decent time each night, read stories and do homework.  I kept the house tidy/clean and would wash, fold and put away 4-5 loads of laundry every weekend even when we had lots of extra curricular activities going on.  Friends, peers and coworkers would call me Martha Stewart when I came up with crafty ideas.  I was the problem solver, an excellent one.  Multi-task was my middle name.
I have been cutting back.  It's been hard.  Sometimes I get a surge of energy and I really want to scrub floorboards or vacuum the curtains.  BUT, I fight to let go.  To just let go. 
I don't have to be a perfectionist.
I just have to be happy for me.   

Fibromyalgia

F - Fatigue
I - Irritability
B - Brain Fog
R - Restless Leg Syndrome
O - Others Don't Understand
M - Muscle And Joint Pain
Y - You NEVER Feel Good
A - Anxiety
L - Loss Of Control
G - Grief And Worry
I - Immune Dysfunction
A -A LIFETIME FIGHTING!!!

Found this while reading up... fitting.

Hopelessly Hopeful

I feel hopeless.  
But I am hopeful that things will work out. 
The past 6 years have been hard... My family and I have taken a lot of "hits".  We have had a ton of great times too... don't get me wrong.  I am very thankful.  But it seems that with all the "hits" we've taken it's brought me to where I am now.  6 years ago I had a really tough pregnancy, I was loosing weight because I couldn't even hold down a drop of water.  I ended up in and out of the hospital and then at home with nurses coming to my house every other day to change an IV site in my body.  I had to have medication pumping into my leg every 7 minutes to keep down all the nausea.  The medication was FedEx'd to me every couple of days on ice.  This was a hard-core pregnancy.  JC had to take care of everything, EVERYTHING.  I was SOOO sick.  Luckily, I had an easy labor and a beautiful healthy baby girl.  After that I never felt back to normal.  I would have good days and hard days, mostly fatigue and achy.  I think that pregnancy took a lot of me.  Then, in the last 3 years... I lost my Aunt.  She killed herself.  How can anyone really get over something as messed up as that, especially when you love them so much.  Then, I watched my Grandma die, I saw her take her last breath.  That moment was comforting because it was time, but the aftermath of it and going through all her belongings was mentally exhausting... but it was something I wanted to do.  We also short sold a house, bought a house, JC was laid off for several months... we have dealt with A LOT.  Working at the school there is always tragedy.  In the last 8 years I have experienced several heart breaking incidents.  Twins suffocating in a car, a child run over by a tractor, a child run over by a car, a child backed up-over by a car, a child who drowned, a disabled child who suffocated between the wall and her mattress... then all the other sad things you go through like custody battles and the woe's and storied you hear, children who are hurt or suffering but CPS feels differently... there is so much and with every episode it breaks me down a little more. It's been validated that with Fibromyalgia I am overly sensitive.  Over sensitive is a symptom.  I guess these are some of the things in the past few years that have brought me to where I am now.  Splat, on a solid brick wall, that is not budging.  I need talk therapy.  I can't find a therapist in the area who wants to listen to me talk... they all want to interrupt me and fix things.  There is nothing to fix from the past... I just want to talk about it.  Today I feel ok.  Today I feel like I'm making progress in my life with my new situation.  Still keeping things on my terms, that helps!  I am hopelessly hopeful.

Karma?

I think to myself a lot... is this karma?  I was such a rebellious teenager, then my Hollywood days were full of havoc.  If my friends thought I was a wild child in high school then they had not seen nothing till my Hollywood years... I seriously partied like a rock star, with rock stars and Hollywood  A-listers.  When I lived in LA every year there were fires and mudslides in Malibu.  I would watch the chaos and think to myself that Malibu must have a lot of bad karma living there in those giant mansions.  Hollywood is flashy and bright and shiny, it sucks you in like quicksand and it won't let you out.  I could write a book about all the good, bad and ugly experiences I had in the years I lived there. 
Was I so bad?  Am I in constant pain now because I was so rambunctious then?  I feel like this is karma.  I hurt every second of my life.  Friends and family look at me and don't see a "sick" person, they don't understand that I hurt so bad.  They think I look fine and normal so I am ok, or faking it. Do they think that because I hold a SAG card that I'm a good actress and faking that I'm sick???... little do they realize is that YES, I am such a good actress that I have hidden my pain for years, and even though I sit and talk to then like I'm a normal human being I am in constant pain.  My arms throb and are numb all day and all night.  I scream inside and smile on the outside. I am typing through the shooting pain to feel human, to feel like I'm connecting with others, to keep me from crawling under a rock and becoming a hermit.  I don't want to give up, I will do what I gotta do.
I wonder, will my friends stop calling me?, Will people talk behind my back?, will my family leave me?, Is this all karma coming back to haunt me?  I feel like this can't just happen to someone for no reason, this is HELL.

ZombieLand

I am a complete and total ZOMBIE, I'm so tired and so out of it.  I have so many appointments to make and loose ends to tie up but I am soooo out of it.  Why??? 
I just spent several minutes staring blank at this laptop screen... signing off cause I have no idea what I'm doin or what I was gonna say..... 
Happy St. Patty's day!

Ugggg

It's been a while.  I'm not even sure where I left off, but the doc has me on medical leave again.  I went back to work and I ended up right back where I started, HURTIN BAD!  It was great to see everyone at work again and nice to be back in my office with hopes of everything being good... but... my body's reaction by the end of the week back was not so happy.  By the end of the week I was such a space case, I couldn't focus or keep track of things, I was zoning out at the computer screen not knowing what the heck was going on.  The sound of the school bells made me cringe in nauseating pain.  It took everything I had in me not to cry.  Monday morning I got up and got ready for work but by the time I got the kids going and Quinn to daycare I was so wiped out I called in sick to work.  Later that day I went in to the doctors... he gave me another diagnosis... PTSD and thinks that PTSD is causing my fibro to flare.  He sent me to another counselor to confirm.  The counselor confirmed PTSD and referred me to another place that does some sort of treatment using your eyes to get through the traumatic stuff, I guess.  I still need to go to that appointment.  When the doc suggested PTSD I was completely shocked!  That came from left field... but hmmmmm, it does make sense now that I think about it.  There was a situation last Fall where I felt as though I was responsible for the lives of some people being threatened, and after all was said and done my mind went through all the "what if's" and I still felt scared that something could still happen... Even now the sound of helicopters STILL put's me into an anxiety attack fast.  I guess I didn't get the help I needed afterwords so now I need to do something about it.  Ugggg.  I feel like such a misfit.  Like I said, I didn't realize it but I guess it makes sense now that I've had a week to think about it. 
Saturday we had a garage sale.  My boys did all the heavy stuff and I sat in a chair collecting quarters and whatnot.  Then Sunday we took Quinn to "Build-a-Bear" and Red Robin with our garage sale earnings for her 5th Birthday.  By the time Monday morning came I was practically crippled in pain and have been absolutely worthless since then.  I cannot have a conversation without thinking about the words I want to say and even then I say the word wrong, like someone who's had a stroke.  ... I was really hoping that things would be back to normal as soon as I went to work.  Looks like things are not that simple.... this is me, STILL trying to figure it all out.