Life With Cats: Part 1

I believe cats are perhaps more intelligent than humans. I know for certain that they are more empathetic. The more I know people, the more I love my cats. I know that many people think cats are aloof or uncaring. I surmise this is because cats love so richly, and feel so deeply, that they are guarded in initial dealings with a person/people. Their trust isn't easily earned, but is so worth the effort. 
When Julia, my daughter, was 4, we got her a lilac point Siamese. People warned us that Siamese cats were mean and we'd regret it. Last year, after 16 1/2 years of loving each other, Rosalie slipped away. Julia has had a rough time of it growing up. She's dealt with not only her issues, but ours. Ralph is developmentally disabled and I am bipolar. Julia has her own issues, both health and emotional. She was born 6 weeks early, and had RSV at 3 months. She's been asthmatic since 1 1/2 and began developing the first symptoms of Hidradenitis Suppurativa at 8. In her teens, on the heels of my bipolar diagnosis, she was diagnosed with bipolar and another disorder. We also believe she has Sensory Integration disorder that went undiagnosed. Through it all, Rosalie was her constant companion. Rosalie always knew instinctively when Julia needed her to draw closer, and when to give her space.
After Rosalie passed, Leo, a long-hair domestic rescue, broke through all the pain, and showed Julia that she could love again. Yesterday, Leo escaped outdoors, as the was wont to do. He had a wild heart that just could not be confined. He left our yard for the first time since demanding to be let in our home 3 years ago, and was struck by a vehicle. Julia discovered him by the road. He looked as if he were just asleep. We laid him to rest below my June blooming Lilac, where the catnip always grows. He was drawn to the outdoors so often by catnip. Julia's heart is broken just one year after losing Rosalie. 
The last month or so, Leo was extremely insistent on having Julia's undivided attention and love. He insisted on it. She'd even have to put down her laptop for him. It was like he knew his time with her was coming to an end, and wanted to love her as much and as intently as he could. This leads me to believe cats have more than just five senses. He needed to love her as hard as he could, so she had those times to cling to. Rosalie lingered her last day, until Julia told her it was okay to go. I think cats have an empathic sense that allows them to read people. I also believe they know when their life is coming to an end. I also believe a cat can die of a broken heart. My late brother's cat did. We took her in after he passed, but no matter what we did, she just didn't want to live without him..
I know a lot of people that don't "like" cats or think they are evil or uncaring. I think they haven't met the right cat, or are threatened unconsciously by their intellect. I am a Christian. God made cats. He didn't choose them as the form of evil in the Garden. I believe a loving God would not create a Heaven where His creations would be excluded. Any of them. If He had mentioned every good thing Heaven would include, the Bible would have been more than double the size. I believe every good gift He has ever given us here will be there. Cats (and dogs, fish, hamsters, etc) included. He uses the loyalty and love our pets give us as a reminder of His love on a daily basis. We may forget to read the Bible on a bad day, but our pets are there loving us for Him. 
Thoughts?
     

Scary Mother!

Munchausen isn't Mothering

I have been enjoying "Law & Order" on Netflix lately, the original series or as Julia puts it: the mother ship. I just watched an episode entitled "Precious". The subject was a parent that suffered "Munchausen by proxy" syndrome. I was drawn into the storyline. I found myself feeling angry. I was on board with Sam Waterston's character when he suggested sterilization as a plea bargain offer. 
I flashed back on my Julia's infancy. I remember feeling like I never achieved REM sleep the first year and a half of her life. I felt guilt over smoking during pregnancy. I worried that she would suffer crib death. I would wake up and use a flashlight to stare at her chest to see if it was moving and she was breathing. I still do. Not as often. But my guilt has never completely gone away. Julia was 4, 6, or 8 weeks premature, had  RSV at 2 1/2 months, and developed asthma by 1 1/2 years old, all likely due to my smoking during pregnancy. At least to my guilty mind. Not all of those conditions have been proven yet. I managed with the help of my mother and sister, to treat RSV at home using a warm mist humidifier, and a recliner to hold her in a slanted position 24/7 for over 3 days until her condition stabilized. In older children, and those that were not premature, RSV (respiratory syscinctial? virus) is not much more than a cold. For preemies with underdeveloped lungs, it can be and often is fatal. Today there exists a vaccine given to preemies at birth for RSV. A link between RSV and asthma has been shown to be probable. I struggled with guilt over every asthma attack, every episode of bronchitis, every time she had any breathing issue, even hyperventilation syndrome. 
I find myself baffled by someone who can kill for the rush they get from sympathy. I never wanted sympathy, I wanted a cure. I wanted to go back and never smoke. I worried sometimes that the doctors at the emergency room would think I was a sufferer of Munchausen because it felt like we were so often there. I didn't want attention. I wanted Julia to be well. I wanted her not to suffer because I was foolish enough to deny smoking could cause prematurity, etc. There was a portable crib in our bedroom and a regular crib in Julia's room. She never slept in her bedroom until she got her "big girl"  "Barney" bed. She was a year and half old. I nearly wore out the carpet after she started sleeping in there. If I got up to pee, I checked on her. If I woke up for any reason, I checked on her. Overprotective? Maybe. Guilt? Certainly. 
I cannot fathom "Munchausen by Proxy".  I think these people are missing a true maternal gene. They do not have the capacity in them to care for another person. I don't think that we necessarily sterilize them, but I think it should be offered them as a voluntary option. I think psychotherapy should be a mandate in any sentence related to the syndrome. It is stunning that there is no screening during pregnancy for this mental defect. If I had the capacity to scientificly study this, I would do so. If there were a screening, early intervention might help the sufferers cope and perhaps even play a role in raising children. Perhaps they haven't located enough victims to mandate a study. I find it terrifying that someone out there may have this, and no one knows or can help.   

Are Debtor's Prisons Making a Comeback? (when free isn't free)

Friends ~ I am an anger crier. The angrier I am, the more tears fall. Tears are streaming down my face right now. Did you know that you could be prosecuted for theft if you forget to return, misplace, or damage a library book if you can't afford to pay for it?!?!?!? I don't know where to start.
When Ali reached sexual maturity, it was a few weeks before we could get him fixed. We didn't know until well afterwards, that he had "anointed" a bag of library books. The cheesy plastic bags they use now do very little if any to deter liquids. Well, when we packed up and returned library books, they said the smell ruined books in other bags as well. I had lingered over returning the ones we found while cleaning because we found a few more that were damaged. I was already in fear of the bill for the ones already returned. Many were around $30 PLUS a $5 processing fee per book, because they charge you labor also.
Today, I got a letter in the mail from the prosecutor's office notifying me that if I don't return and/or pay for all damaged items, and appear on August 8th at 10 am, I will be prosecuted for theft and pursued accordingly.
I have a lot of problems with this for several reasons.
1. One of our founding fathers' principles was to eliminate the concept of debtor's prisons. I assumed this meant, that debts would be pursued as civil, not criminal matters.
2. I can only assume that those "storm clouds" are smoke rising from Simon J Peabody's grave. If he left any descendants, I think they should sue to have his name disassociated with the current incarnation of the library. He has to be spinning in his grave so fast he's making storm clouds of smoke. If something sounds like thunder, I would assume it to be him groans of agony of the perversion of his dream of a library for every man. So much for his dream of a FREE library.
3. If I have to pay a processing fee of $5 per item, and I assume 4 or more items processed per hour, I am DEFINITELY in the WRONG profession. (And to think I thought prostitution paid well.) This is RIDICULOUS!!
4. When did we lose the "FREE" anyway? I know it was Peabody Free Library from inception through my childhood at least. Sorry, Simon, I mourn with you.
5. Public libraries were intended to be a resource for every man, not just the wealthy. When did this change? Does the Andrew Carnegie Foundation know this changed. I certainly hope the local library doesn't receive grants from an honorable association as this!
6. The last time I checked, there was no longer any free legal aid. How are we supposed to defend ourselves? I have seen this communities public defenders, and most are a joke, revenge of the rich on poor.
7. I was always one of the library's BIGGEST proponents. Reality is a BITCH, (pardon my profanity, but reality is painful)
Well, this is a painful situation in more ways than I care to count.
I WAS a HEAVY USER of THE library, at one time holding the inter-library loan (ILL) record of 82 in one month. I used the android overdrive app to read e-books, easier on my neuropathy than holding heavy books, especially late in the day. I used the internet and the computers before I had my own and access at home. I did my online work there when I still sold Avon.
I am still grieving the loss of access to the public library. I know they made a lot of people angry when they offered free access to those whose township budgeted tax dollars for their funding and had a fee for those whose didn't. I have always lived in a township that participated. My heart aches over the loss. I cannot afford to buy books. If I could, I wouldn't need a free library. I think our community needs to take a stand against the library's new policies. It is ironic that an agent protected by the constitution under the 1st amendment umbrella wants to strip its patrons of freedom from prosecution for imprisonment for debts. It is indeed a dark day for Columbia City, home of the oppressed poor, and the Pol Pot of libraries. — at Columbia City, IN.

PS ~  The bills total over $1,100 for me and about $1,00 for Julia. We live off less than my bill for an average month!

 

We don't need 'no' stinkin' subscription TV!

Our income dropped dramatically the past month due to our girl aging out of dependent child benefits (her daddy is disabled, as am I). We are surviving off his benefits and the four hours of pay I struggle to earn each week. As a result, after having Dish Network in my home since marriage, except for the couple of years we tried cable, they cut us off.
I admit to being spoiled by using the dual dvr they offered. Where our home is situated, we were never able to get a good analog signal when it was my parent's mobile home. When Ralph & I were moving in to take care of momma, we had cable and due to rising prices, succumbed once again to the lure of the dish. In spite of being good customers for many, many years, they are driven by the almighty dollar, which we didn't have this month.
We are still considering direcTV, but I am leery seeing costs rise for my sister. I fear we would wind up with the same situation. Locked in price and contract, we would get sticker shock by hidden costs ascribed to taxes, etc.
As for missing my favorite shows, there's always the internet. Most major networks put full episodes up on their websites the day after the episode airs. This allows them to get their commercial dollars for all markets. They look just as good on my laptop as my tv, just smaller.
If I could scare up the money for a "slingbox" or blu-ray player with internet connectivity, I could get the internet content on my tv, including movies from netflix. Pretty soon, that will be the only way to get netflix, streaming to laptop or tv, anyway.
I do have to hold myself down though. I got so into this week's Hawaii Five-O that I nearly jostled my laptop off my lap!
I am more productive without the constant influx of tv intruding in my day anyway.
PS Hey Dish Network, how did my package deal that is advertised at $34.95 end up being over $76 per month? Sticker shock from hidden charges!

I Hear Voices!

It used to hold a stigma if you uttered, I hear voices. It wasn't just an awesome country song by Chris Young. The video of this song is awesome, so here's the link - I hope this works. I am not great with some of the technical aspects of blogging. Anyway, on the way home from work, this song came on the radio, and my mind immediately seized on the topic, and set off warp factor 1, Mr Sulu! (Yes, I am a "trekkie" and I came out of the nerd closet years ago!)
I got to thinking about the term "hearing voices". Like I said, it used to hold a negative connotation, that of a psychotic break, usually schizophrenic. (The plus side of growing up in a home with schizophrenics, is you are familiar with symptoms.) I remember being afraid I was either crazy of missing something, because as a hearing impaired individual, I was always listening so hard for voices.
If you have significant hearing loss, you are always on alert, lest you miss someone talking to you, especially at school, where not hearing a teacher has consequences! I struggled a lot of years because I didn't have hearing aids. I probably would have qualified for assistance and hearing aids, as well as other assistance as a child, were I not the daughter of a spousal-abusing schizophrenic that isolated his family. I never received training in lip reading, but apparently over the years a developed a fair amount of this skill.
As a teen, my mother introduced me to the world she grew up in. She was granddaughter of a locally famous, or should I say infamous, spiritualist minister. He was credited with her surviving polio, using methods that weren't yet prevalent at the time, as well as spiritualist dogma like the laying on of hands, "measuring", and spirit/psychic healing. I remember my first visit to the Spiritualist Church in Fort Wayne at the corner of Spring St and Wells St. I remember Reverend Bernice coming up to me after and saying, "You hear voices, don't you?" She put a hand on my shoulder and told me it was okay and I shouldn't be afraid. She told me that the dead can't hurt me, only the living can. It calmed my fears as she reassured me that I was NOT crazy.
Ironically enough, going to church at a Wesleyan church years later, those fears came back with a vengeance. The doctrine implies that if we hear voices, it's probably demons.
In the country song, the lyrics expound on the voices being memories of loved ones giving us words to live by. I know there are times I can just hear Momma or Daddy telling me something important, and when I recall it, I hear it in their voices. All this is leading to a point, I promise.
Anyway, I got to thinking, what if all of it is true? What if God speaks to us in voices we are familiar with, so as to get our attention? Maybe "psychic" messages warning of imminent danger are actually messages from a loving Father God who wants to protect us? What if he speaks to us to reassure us using the voices of those we love so we draw near? Who are we to define God's voice? I also think that Lucifer would use voices to entice us to sin. I think that hearing voices might not be a bad thing, if we consider what they say prayerfully. I would be reluctant not to consider this.
After all, I keep coming back to the joke of the man waiting out a flood. He keeps saying that God will save him. First he sends away someone in a rowboat, followed by a power boat and lastly a helicopter. When he drowns, he asks God why he didn't save him. God replies that He sent two boats and helicopter, what more was He supposed to do? While this makes me laugh, I wonder if I sometimes am the guy on the roof ignoring messages from God or his provisions for me. Then, I get the mental image of God smacking me on the head and saying, "What were you thinking? Didn't you hear ME?"
Maybe today, we should spend some time listening to the still small voice, whether we define it as conscience, God, spirit guides, or insanity. After all, God calls us to be STILL and know He is God. If we never have the quiet, still time, how are able to hear Him when he speaks?
So today, I hope you hear voices, and I mean that in a good way!

Embracing my Inner Helen Reddy

My daughter seems surprised that I know all the words to "I am Woman" by Helen Reddy. I just wish I had found that part of my soul that knows how to stand up for our rights earlier. I know everything in our lives happens for a reason. Sometimes it's beyond our control. Sometimes there are consequences to choices. I know that only I can give someone the power to intimidate me.
All the trauma involved in Julia & I surviving her arrival was so overwhelming, that at the time it shook my self confidence. I questioned my own abilities as mother because she was so frail after she was born. It didn't help that an in-law was there waiting to underwhelm my confidence. I foolishly assumed she knew whereof she spoke. Had I been informed that she had the same mental illness that afflicted my brother, I might have questioned more, and relied more on my own knowledge. It's like I forgot that I had a respectable intellect and for several years had raised other people's children at their behest. I provided daycare for young children, and they and their parents had faith in my abilities.
Why in God's name, did I assume these sister-in-laws knew more than me? I have always been open to learning. My IQ was just 1 point shy of mensa in 1966, when it was tested. Since then, I have tested anywhere from 140's to 170's, a decent average. I was raised by a mother that always made me feel cherished. With her as role model, I should never have doubted myself.
My in-laws are gifted at tearing down self-esteem. After all, they managed to convince Ralph he was DISABLED, and made excuses for his behaviors instead of holding him accountable for his actions. Repercussions for their ill-advised raising are being felt to this day. One of his distant relatives said he had grown up more since we were married than he had his first 29 years. We had only been married a few years then. Don't think I am unaware of Ralph's developmental limitations, but he is capable of so much more than his environment fostered.
I wonder how much more he would have gained if he had had Ken's counsel a few more years. He had such patience with Ralph. Ken was my daddy, where Paul Hile was my FATHER, very different personalities and approaches to parenting. I was so lucky growing up with two dads. I wish I had appreciated it more when they were still here.
Juli and I are still recovering from the pain inflicted by Ralph's family. By the time Juli came along as the last Carter grandchild, his mother probably thought we wouldn't be capable of parenting. She acted as if she were trying to correct Juli in our place, to the point where it damaged Juli's ability to be close like she was with my mother. Juli still loves and respects her Grandmother Carter, but too many wedges have been driven between them by the family. His sisters blame me because Juli has sought pro's against them. Her own words, "Mom, I could always tell they didn't like or respect you. "
It didn't help that when I was struggling with caring for Momma, and trying to manage two households, their idea of help was to call in welfare and to remind Juli that if she didn't put away her toys, welfare would take her away. One of them told her not to cry when she was six and my mother, the light of her life, died, or else mommy might go nutso (or equivalent thereof). Juli was so afraid, she didn't cry for a year.
I take comfort that they will have to answer for their actions someday, as will we all when we stand before the Lord. I know I am far from innocent. I have apologized to Juli for not being stronger. I still fight feelings of intimidation. I haven't forgotten Mike holding a knife at my throat during one of his psychotic breaks. I also haven't forgotten that Ralph is the only one of his Carter siblings that DOESN'T have a firearm of some type in the house. We sold or gave away all of them. We acknowledge our problems and feel wiser not owning guns. I find it questionable that someone who is schizophrenic can not only own a gun, but bluster about it to intimidate me.
I know Julia is an adult now at 18. But I still try to live by example to her. I was so worried about not marrying a violent man like my dad, I never considered checking out my husband's family and their mental status. It was difficult growing up with Dad & Mike being schizophrenic. Perhaps I should have known that at least two out of three sister-in-laws were schizophrenic? I love Ralph now, as much as when I married him, but in spite of his human failings, not because of what he does or doesn't do. He has struggled against his development in learning to be a good husband and father. It would have helped had he not been raised as the center of his universe and been taught accountability. He doesn't realize that they did this because they did not believe in him and all that he could be capable of. I realize those were different times. I still think they are accountable for his training.

"I am woman, hear me roar, in numbers too big to ignore, I know too much to go back and pretend. Because I've heard it all before and I've been down there on the floor, NO ONE'S EVER GONNA' KEEP ME DOWN AGAIN!
Oh, yes, I am wise, but it's wisdom born of pain. Oh, yes, I've paid the price, but look how much I've gained. If I have to, I can do anything. I AM STRONG. I AM INVINCIBLE, I AM WOMAN....
You can bend but never break me, 'cause it only serves to make me, more determined to achieve my final goal, I'll come back even stronger, not a novice any longer, 'cause you've deepened the conviction in my soul. Oh, yes, I am wise, but it's wisdom born of pain. Oh, yes, I've paid the price, but look how much I've gained. If I have to, I can do anything. I AM STRONG. I AM INVINCIBLE, I AM WOMAN...."

There is another verse, but you get the point. I am embracing my inner Helen Reddy!

"Sunshine Go Away Today"

Yes, I know it's a sixties protest song(actually 1971), but it fits today. The song by Jonathon Edwards can be viewed at youtube.com. I'll post the link and lyrics at the end.
I feel the need to protest my in-laws. Not all of them, just the two who think they rule the world, or at least us. I mean the roller coaster from the dark side they've had us on lately is inhuman. First, we were invited to Grandma's shindig, then we were told not to come, then we were, then the grand Command performance where we were ordered to Grandma's apartment and told we could come, wish her a Happy Birthday, eat exactly one plate of food, excuse ourselves and leave. That was bad enough. But today showed that they have not a shred of human kindness or MANNERS!
Larry Lee offered to give us a ride to the party, but with Juli due to have surgery Friday, we seriously gave thought to only having Ralph go. After agonizing over it, we decided to attend, but keep our presence limited in focus. We tried in every way not to bring unwelcome attention to our presence. Turns out, we weren't the problem. While we were eating our ONE plate of food each, the senior surviving sister, bent over to speak to Ralph, just to tell him to relay a message to Julia, that she was not to take pictures, ESPECIALLY of the kids! Juli is NOT a pedophile, or a STALKER! She merely wanted photos to remember her ONLY living Grandma by, especially since she's 90 and won't be around forever! To be singled out and treated like this was bad enough.
Juli has Hidradenitis Suppurativa, is having her third surgery for this on this coming Friday, and was just sitting quietly unobtrusively as possible. This psycho ostracized her after telling us not to cause anything! Juli will be lucky to live a full life. The longer of average recorded histories is 40-50 years, with many HS sufferers perishing younger due to vulnerability to several cancers. That is best case scenario for a disease that usually doesn't start till after puberty in late teens. Juli has suffered from this since age 8, an extraordinarily young age. She has reached stage 3 of 4 well before she turned 18 last fall. Not a promising start. (look for a link to this as well)
I just lost my only, my older brother on Good Friday. It has hit us financially as well, since I am the only survivor of our nuclear family. I have younger step-siblings, siblings-in-love, I call them. They have truly shown me what family should be, disfunctional though it may be. They are there when the chips are down.
I am at a loss on how to deal with this family. Juli plans to change her last name. Not just because she is a writer, but legally because the last name Carter has only meant pain to her, all her life long. I can't say as I blame her. When people choose pettiness, hatred and being venomous over love, some times you just have to walk away to survive. I lost my Mike for the better part of 35 years due to drugs. I think I prefer that to being sober and being treated with hatred, unadulterated, and childish tantrums.
So, Carter family, while we would never keep Ralph from you (God knows why, but he still loves you all??!), stick a fork in me, I am SO DONE.
You will never hurt my baby again, God as my witness! If anyone wants to GROW UP, and get past this, you will be welcome in our hearts and home.
Oh, and as for Julia's other aunt...the restraining orders wouldn't have been necessary if you had respected our boundaries as a family and allowed us to parent Julia. You had no right to inspect her school records and the idiots that allowed you unlimited access I hope are unemployed. You violated laws and privacy to go places you had no right. I offered to apply for the TRO, but Juli said that she was an adult, and it was her decision that you had no business throwing a tantrum at her doctor's office that upset her doctor so, that it was notated in her permanent medical record. She ended up switching doctors because she was so embarrassed and angered by this violation.
I have set the record straight. I hope that someday I can look at you without seeing my daughter's tear-streaked face, but I doubt it. I am a Mother after all. I am her mother, and you need to back off. If I had had the courage to tell you this 18 years ago, maybe Julia would be stronger. Still she is much more loving than you have ever been or ever will be. I am so proud of her.
So, as the song says, "you can't even run your own life, I'll be d@mned if you'll run mine!"

Lyrics: Sunshine Go Away
Sunshine go away today
I don't feel much like dancing
Some man's gone, he's tried to run my life
Don't know what he's asking

He tells me I'd better get in line
Can't hear what he's saying
When I grow up I'm going to make it mine
But these aren't dues I been paying

(Chorus)
How much does it cost, I'll buy it
The time is all we've lost, I'll try it
But he can't even run his own life
I'll be damned if he'll run mine, Sunshine

Sunshine go away today
I don't feel much like dancing
Some man's gone he's tried to run my life
Don't know what he's asking

Working starts to make me wonder where
The fruits of what I do are going
He says in love and war all is fair
But he's got cards he ain't showing

(Chorus)

Sunshine come on back another day
I promise you I'll be singing
This old world, she's gonna turn around
Brand new bells'll be ringing

Links: Sunshine Go Away: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_4Vu-P9qVoc
Hidradenitis Suppurativa: http://www.hs-support.uni.cc/hidradenitis-suppurativa-faq/

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They're All Just Songs About Me

Anyone who has known me for any length of time knows that I am a music addict. I'm sure there are people who listen to a wider variety of music than me, but pretty much from the time I get up til I crash, I have music on. Music is a placeholder, a book mark of a moment in time.

I have very few memories left of my Grandma Streby, as she passed when I was six. It's been almost twelve years, the memories are yellowed and faded. However, a few memories are as clear as day. One of those memories is Grandma's choice in music. Patsy Cline. Everything in Grandma's life could be summed up in a Patsy song. I remember early on listening to old school country with Grandma, Patsy's 'Walking After Midnight'. This is one of the most played songs in my iTunes because it was Grandma's song.

Afternoons, when I was in elementary school, were spent with Aunt Carla. We'd run errands, do homework, crafts, cook, and listen to Garth Brooks. I will always associate Garth Brooks with Aunt Carla. Always. Garth Brooks and 'Austin' by Blake Shelton. The songs that played on the radio when we rode around in that old F-150.

My Daddy and I have always had a really rocky relationship. There was always lots of fighting and things said and done that I'd rather forget. I do remember every time we fought when I was in middle school ended with me sobbing and singing along with Billy Currington's 'Walk A Little Straighter'.

Sugarland's 'Want To' will always take me back to 7th and 8th grade and my long lasting, horrifically mortifying crush on James Fehring. 'Hot Blooded' will always take me back to bad days freshman year, linking arms with Emily and skipping through the hallways as we belted out the eighties anthem at the top of our lungs. 'Me and Charlie Walkin' will always, always, always make me think of David.

The summer after I got my license, Tyler and I went to go see Maid Of Honor at the Rave. We were coming home at like eleven at night. The windows were down, Tyler's feet were out the window as my hand pounded on the steering wheel and we blasted AAR's "Move Along" at an ear splitting decibel.

Or starting Driver's Ed the same week Kenny Chesney's "Never Wanted Nothing More" premiered on the radio. Nights spent dancing to 'Stronger' by Britney Spears with Mallorie as our Mommas laughed. Driving to therapy and 'Bleed It Out' by Linkin Park drowning out the world.

One more memory and then I'm done. My angel girl, my cousin, Maryah and 'Everywhere' by Tim McGraw. I rewrote the lyrics to fit us and I'd walk around, holding her and singing it softly (and horribly offkey) til she fell asleep.

They're all just songs about me,
And who I am....
-Trace Adkins

That's why I am a music addict,
-Julia

Songs for an Epiphany

We all have them, those songs that make us think of our defining moments. Some of those songs may have even inspired us or spurred us on. I was driving home today listening to the radio, when Miley Cyrus' crossover hit, "The Climb", began to play, and ended just as I pulled into the driveway.
Some songs are related to our youth. I remember "Mairzy Doats" as my momma sang it to me when I was a little girl. I also adored a 45 rpm record I had of "the Smokey The Bear song". There were children's shows on Sunday morning. One involved a double decker bus that led to an underground clubhouse set somewhere in England, I am sure. I remember one of the older girls, sat in a rocking chair singing to a smaller child a song about "Granny's Rocking Chair" and how you could travel anywhere in said chair.
I remember dark cold mornings waiting for the school bus and the long ride, listening to the bus' radio. We were lucky to be among the first on, and able to choose seats beneath the speakers. I loved the songs of my teens, and sang lustily to "Little Willie" and "Bohemian Rhapsody".
I remember sad songs, such as "Sad Songs", or "Daddy Don't You Walk So Fast". I daydreamed to "Love me, Love me, Love" and "Music Box Dancer" and "Heaven on the 7th Floor".
Then, there were the songs we fell in love to. For Ralph & I, it was Donny Osmond's "Sacred Emotion". Corny, yes I know. I also got stirred up a lot listening to the reggae version of "This Magic Moment" that was used in the movie "Cocktail".
I have to devote a separate paragraph to the Beatles. Their music was so much a part of my life's memories and defining moments. I remember listening to them on Spring Break trips to Kentucky riding in the pickup camper with my older brother. I loved "Hey Jude" and "Paperback Writer". The collected works of the Beatles are so numerous that there is virtually at least one Beatles song defining moment in most of baby boomers lives. I would like to know your Beatles moment & song.
I know for many, Michael Jackson offers similar associations as the Beatles as defining their memories. For others, it may be country or Christian music. For example, my daughter's early years were spent loving Dolly Parton's "Coat of Many Colors" and she adored Mary Kate & Ashley's kids songs and Kid Songs' kid songs.
I know everyone has a story and every story has background music. I have songs that play in my head for every memory I revisit. I even have songs that evoke thought of certain people. For my late friend, Anita, the song "Stronger" by Britney Spears makes memories rush back.
I am certain that "The Climb" will define a moment for somebody. There is a place for comments, please, leave a comment with your defining moment & the song intrinsic to it.

"I'm Just In A Mood" - by Julia Carter

“I’m just in a mood…” is probably the most overused phrase in my life. I have Bipolar Disorder and it basically puts my moods all over the map. Sometimes I’m hyper and crazy and say or do things that scare the living shit out of people. Other times I’m depressed and hardly say two sentences all day (which also scares the shit out of people). Sometimes I’m normal - and that’s alright.

I’m just so SICK of justifying how I feel. I’m depressed. I didn’t chose to be depressed. I’m sorry I am and I wish I didn’t have to be. I can’t chose to stop it and I didn’t chose to start it. I’m manic. I didn’t ask for my brain to speed up and I can’t get it to slow down. You’re just gonna have to deal with it til the storm ends. If not, there’s the door. You can walk out of my life just like everyone else has.

If I’m quiet or mad or hyper. Just hang on, it’ll pass. I promise. It comes in spurts and sometimes the moods last for awhile, but I’m still me. I’m out of my mind for a moment, but I’ll be back as soon as I can.

I didn’t ask to have Bipolar Disorder, so please don’t judge me for it.

The Gift of Bipolar...

I get a more than a little irritated at the way television and other media portray bipolar disorder, aka manic depression. I know that medication makes a huge difference, but I think that there is a part of this condition that is not a curse but a gift.

I have been afflicted by this gift most of my adult life, but never thought of it as a condition until it was diagnosed as such. I had been through the depressive phases as a teen and just thought it was typical teen angst. I was told during my freshman year of college, that I needed to suck it up and my momma needed to "take me off the tit". Nice language from the assistant dean, with a degree in psychology, huh? I was always accused of being moody. I just thought I was a 'night owl' and never realized it was hypomania. In fact, I never thought there was anything wrong with me. I always thought my racing thoughts as being gifted, part of what gave me the ability to read over 1k words per minute with 100% comprehension. I just figured it was sort of like my mildly eidetic memory (not perfect, polluted by tons of ridiculous minutiae). Who knew?

I firmly aver that were I not diagnosed, I would be merrily tripping through life in blessed ignorance. I remember a time when my Avon district manager (the 1st during the ten years I sold) said she had to replay my messages several times to catch everything I said. She theorized I talked so fast, because I was trying to keep up with my mind which was going 90 miles per hour.

The way I see it, what psychology calls bipolar disorder is just a mind that does not know it is supposed to calm down and allow the body to rest. It is like a brain with no OFF switch. This alone would not be problematic, except the human body requires rest to recharge. Without this critical down time, the body weakens, tires, and the mind begins to experience errors in judgment. Exhaustion seems to be what triggers the depressive phases. The perfect metaphor is a dog 'worrying' a bone. He gnaws and gnaws at it, unable to leave it alone. Most of my depressive states occurred when I had some sort of sad experience or fnancial worry. When I would try to go to sleep, my mind would seize this worry or sadness and become so consumed with it till it overwhelmed all my waking and sleeping moments. Kind of like a record being stuck on an endless loop repeating the same phrase over and over. It was probably some one with bipolar disorder that came up with brainwashing and torture techniques by emulating what their own mind did to them.

After the crash and resulting downtime, comes the building euphoria, known as mania or hypomania, depending on extent of behavior. For me, it would be feeling too wide awake to sleep when I was younger, and 4 am shopping trips to wal-mart in more recent days. Being a little manic is such an exuberant state. It can be such a rush.

It is completely understandable why bipolars go off meds. It is difficult to find the med that best offers you the balance to have down time to rest without being depressed and the energy to enjoy life without being practically catatonic. My 1st year medicated, I basically lost that year. I was almost catatonic, to the point that I didn't care about anything or anyone. At least it seemed that way. My doctor tried steadily decreasing doses of the most popular med at that time, but even at half the lowest dose, I was still basically nonfunctional. I cringe every time I see this med being advertised on tv. My system was way too sensitive for classic meds. I ended up with a mild antidepressant that has the benefit of being thought to help my diabetic neuropathy. I am probably slightly manic much of the time, but I never was extremely manic. I can enjoy life on an intellectual basis at least. My diabetes still tends to be a drag physically.

I title this blog the gift of bipoolar because of a book I read early in my marriage because of Ralph having two types of dyslexia. It focused on what you CAN do, not what you can't. I feel this way about being bipolar.

I embrace the life I have, because, all I am, who am, is because of all I experience. This wisdom was courtesy of Star Trek, we are the sum total of our experiences. Change one experience, one obstacle, and you change your entire person.

I am at peace with who I am, and I choose to be me!

My Heart Will Go On...

(This post is dedicated to Aiden Anthony Rossi, who left this world far to early, and his mom & dad, Kasey & Brandon, our hearts go out to you...)

An Open Letter to Kasey & Brandon (& anyone who has ever lost a child born too soon)

I titled this post, "My Heart will go on..", yes, the song from Titanic. I am including the lyrics at the end of this post. When you read them, this will make sense.

Kasey, you were born on or around Father's Day. It stands out vividly in my mind because when Ralph & I went out on our second date, we took your aunt Carla over to visit you. You were beautiful right from the beginning of your life and still are. That was the day Uncle Ralph asked me to marry him (he didn't waste time). We were in love and in a hurry to get our lives together started. I got pregnant early on. Somewhere along the line, something went wrong. I figured to be close to 20 weeks when we finally saw the doctor. The test said I was definitely pregnant, but the doctor couldn't hear the heartbeat so he sent us for an ultrasound. The placenta had remained, but the fetus was no longer there. We lost the pregnancy without even being aware it was happening. I had to have a d & c, but we had no baby to say goodbye to. Well meaning relatives offered all the usual words that were supposed to comfort us. Each word felt like a knife through the heart. All I knew, was that the baby I had felt moving and had fallen in love with was gone. I grieved, and felt broken to my soul. I didn't want comfort, I wanted my baby back.
People offered tons of advice, even suggesting we maybe shouldn't have kids. (could you even dream of a world without Julia?!?!) It was a really painful time because it seemed like everyone else in the world was having babies. There was a baby boom where Uncle Ralph & I worked. I remember finding out a coworker & friend was having a baby and she was single. She wasn't even sure the father wanted to be involved. It just seemed so unfair. I was so certain I would never get over the loss. I would start to function and when I least expected it, the grief would hit me again. After only a couple of months trying, I was pregnant again, but I was so afraid. I remember sitting and looking at the test and crying and being so afraid it wouldn't last. I had so many problems carrying Julia because of my obesity and the complications of that pregnancy. I had placenta previa where the placenta attaches at or over the cervix. I nearly lost her and was put on bedrest in hopes as the placenta grew, it would grow upwards. It did, but then I was hit with gestational diabetes, and toxemia/preeclampsia. She was premature, either 4, 6, or 8 weeks depending on which doctor you asked. You obviously know she survived. Still, I remember looking at her after she was born, wondering if I was dreaming or she was really mine and here, even though she was the only girl born that week.
Her arrival, made the loss that went before bittersweet. As much as we wanted that baby, had it survived, we wouldn't have had her. I will always miss that little baby that I always thought of as a boy (Ralph & I would have named it after him). I don't know why we had to go through the pain of that loss, and I won't this side of Heaven. I just trust that God had a reason. It still hurts after all these years. I won't lie and say it doesn't. My heart has gone on, it had to for Juli's sake and my own. There are times through the years the subject of the baby that would have been comes up. I think of him as an angel that watches over Juli.
No one can tell you how you will get through the pain, but you will. Your mom is a survivor and she raised all of you to be survivors too. She can be a great comfort to you having been through the same thing. I know my mom helped me survive, because she knew, she had been there.
My heart goes out to you and Brandon. I have walked this path too. Each of us walks the path through grief in our own way. Don't let anyone diminish your grief

in any way. Ignore anyone, even if they mean well, that start a phrase with, it was probably for the best, or it wasn't meant to be. No matter how short a life is, it always matters. Aiden may have been here too briefly, but he was beautiful and had meaning and purpose. God took this precious angel home too early by our wishes. I pray His comfort over you. When we are curled up in our deepest grief, we are that little child resting in God's hand as He carries us through our grief to what lies ahead. May you find peace. Know that God loves Aiden so much, and He's holding him for you, until the time we all are together in Heaven.

I promised the lyrics to you:

(if the link doesn't show up when I publish, they are on videos on youtube, the video I used was 'myheart will go on lyrics posted by dalekGASP, beautiful, I tried 3 times to embed)

Make Lemonade (or get OFF me!)

I am sorry for whatever tragedy or disappointment has befallen you and or your family. I probably didn't know about your crisis when it happened. Heaven knows, I am left out of the loop unless I read about whatever happened online. So, if I did anything offensive, it was not intended. Life sucks, I am very aware. Now - GET OFF ME!
I have had my share of tragedies, and I have been there and felt your pain. The last thing I would ever do is purposely add the "F" to it! I had a miscarriage at 20 weeks and if I wasn't devastated enough by that, my in-laws gave me SH!T about how the fetus was probably severely disabled and how we wouldn't have wanted that. At 20 weeks, I was already in love with that baby and I grieved sorely. It hurt my husband even more, because he has developmental disabilities and was one of those babies we "wouldn't" have wanted. Talk about insensitive. Even more, the one telling us how hard it would be was mother to an autistic son, one of those babies, should I have asked her if he shouldn't have been born. Darren was precious gift. I will never forget him putting on his hat & shades and doing his best imitation of Elton John singing "Daniel" and pretending to play piano. Oh, Darren, you were like "Daniel" in that "your eyes see more than mine". I am so grateful to have known him. He was one of the few in-laws that accepted me unequivocally.
When Ralph and I married, I had undergone an evaluation at the local sheltered workshop because of physical disability, binaural hearing loss. His family ASSUMED since he knew me from there, that I was similarly disabled and they would end up taking care of me also. They never gave Ralph any credit for being a man, and being capable of being a husband and father. I am not saying our lives together were without challenges. Lord knows, there have been lots of roadblocks and oceans of tears. But there was even more sweetness and love and we had beautiful Juli. She came in the wake of the tragedy of that miscarriage.
She was hard fought for and won at a GREAT price. I had obstacle after obstacle to not only her survival, but mine as well. First was bleeding and fear of miscarriage at 10 weeks. That was first of five ultrasounds. I was put on bedrest at ten weeks because of placenta previa, which was not commonly known then, in hopes the placenta would grow up and away from th cervix as the baby grows. Well, on the heels of that came gestational diabetes, followed closely by preeclampsia. I was hospitalized at what by original calculations was just over 33 weeks, shortly after my first anniversary. Our baby shower was on that day, and on the way home, we came up on a devastating looking accident that was my stepsister's car in which she and my mother were heading home. Juli was born, according to ob/gyn/surgeon four weeks early, six weeks by my gp's calculations, and 8 weeks according to the neonatologist. She was taken c-section after the 3 tests done by amnio showed 1. her lungs WERE ready, 2. they were NOT ready, or 3 unsure. She was on oxygen first day of her life, and umbilical iv for five days, and uv lights for bilirubin for two more days. During this time my c-section staples were removed, my dad died, I went to the calling, spiked a fever and woke to a seeping open wound that my mother said looked like raw hamburger. Only a thin area of muscle had started healing enough that it kept me from being eviscerated. I was readmitted on day six of Juli's life, she went home on day seven and I finally got to join her on day eight. And I found out afterward, she suffered having her little heels stabbed every two hours to draw blood to check her glucose, calcium and bilirubin levels that whole first week of her life. I was also devastated that my most evil sister-in-law that was a former employee of the hospital was allowed to hold my daughter not only before my husband did, but before I even knew for sure she had survived. My family, out of respect for me, waited until after I had seen her and held her.
We had originally wanted three children. Upon finding out that the c-section separating would likely recur, and there was a strong possibility of mortality, we decided to be grateful for our Juli and not try for more children. So between the miscarriage and all the complications involved in Juli & I surviving her arrival, we chose to cherish the precious gift we got in her with no regrets. Apparently my reproductive capabilities were a lemon, so I made lemonade, and poured all my efforts into raising my beautiful daughter and letting her know how special she was. She said when she was only 8 that God had special plans for her.
Her life so far has been frought with obstacles. She had Respiratory Syncictial Virus (RSV) at three months, and by age one and a half was on meds for asthma. By age three, she had urinary blockage and endured scary, painful tests to resolve that. At eight, she began having juvenile migraines and we first encountered cysts that would turn out to be Hidradenitis Supprativa Acne Inversa, a very painful, little known condition with no cure.
My in-laws, when my life was in turmoil from losing a second daddy, my stepfather of 17 years, decided that when my housekeeping was out of control, to turn me in to welfare because cobwebs and clutter could be hazardous to Juli's health. The stress from fear of being taken away from her daddy and me, caused way more problems with her asthma than dust and cobwebs ever could. They did this at the time I was most overwhelmed, because not only had we lost daddy, momma was rapidly deteriorating healthwise. I had also begun living with type two diabetes at that time. The aunts that called welfare, took great delight in telling Juli that if she didn't pick up her toys, they would take her away. Nice aunts, huh?
Then when Momma went through congestive heart failure, we got a rare and precious gift of an extra year and a half to love her. She lost her left leg above the knee five months later, but we managed to bring her home again. During all of this, not only were we dealing with this, but my brother was in and out of jail for various drug related charges and his wife left him. He ended up staying with momma until his schizophrenia got the best of him and he tried to choke her and she nearly bled out from an ulcer that developed from his treatment of her. I was trying to keep her house and my own complying with welfare, handling her, Juli's, Ralph's, Michael's and my own health problems. My in-laws answer was not to offer any real help, they called welfare yet again.
May of 1998, the 6th to be exact, Momma left us. She and I had been best friends, much like Juli and I are now and I know people worried how I would cope with her loss. My wonderful sister-in-law's solution, tell six year old Juli, that just lost her beloved Grandma"Creepy" (she couldn't pronounce Streby), not to cry because Mommy might go crazy and she'd lose her too! "Isn't that just kick you in the crotch, spit down your neck fantastic?" (friends quote) Juli didn't cry for a whole year! My poor baby, to be told she had to be responsible for her mother's mental health?!
Few years later, we were finally doing fairly decent and decided to try for the first time homebuyer's program offered through the USDA. We were less than ninety days from closing when the factory where Ralph worked decided to ship their operations overseas and we had to pull out of the contract. For over a year, Ralph worked with a job placement coach trying to get another job. We had applied to ss disability for him because all his jobs had been supported employment with special accomodations to allow him to work. He was not considered to be substantially working, because he needed support to perform the jobs. He was hired for another factory job, and had a job retention coach that went above and beyond, so we applied to Habitat for Humanity. We were much of the way through the build when he again lost his job, this time despite having full support of a job coach. Even though two and a half years had passed since he applied for disability it was finally approved. Once again, we lost the opportunity for a house because our income went below the level for Habitat. I had applied for disability for myself because my ability to work was rapidly diminishing due to complications of diabetes. We were again trying for habitat, when I got the first and second denials, this time taking us out of our third attempt for a house and bringing our income down so low we dropped out of the habitat eligibility completely.
During the first habitat attempt, Ralph's health took some alarming downturns, including my in-laws "kidnapping" him and traumatizing our whole family. He had to go on insulin and thy decided that when during an argument I swatted him on the top of the head for pulling a bonehead stunt, that I was being abusive and wouldn't let us talk to him until I scheduled a psych eval for myself. Juli cried herself to sleep as did I. We got through all that. I was diagnosed as having bipolar II disorder and went on meds that basically made me catatonic because they were too strong.
While I was so out of it, my oh-so-sweet sister-in-law decided to once again throw us to the wolves and called welfare. Such love! I finally got my meds adjusted to where I was functional and I struggled on. I was now using a cane, early in the morning and late in the day, since my nerves no longer told my leg muscles consistently when I was standing. I would stand up and keep on going forward toward falling on my face. Or I would drop back. I had developed retinopathy in my eyes (leaking blood vessels and new vessel growth that can swelll retina and blur vision). I could no longer see clearly. I had been hard of hearing since age four due to nerve damage from fevers of 106 degrees. I grew up learning visually by necessity. I learned basic lipreading by osmosis. Hearing aids can help, but are limited. Losing my visual cues, caused me to isolate myself more from the world. Thankfully, the retinopathy is in remission at this time, and God willing, if I can get rigid control of the diabetes, may not recur. My neuropathies affect not only my legs, but my hands and arms all the way to the shoulder on my right (dominant) arm. The focal neuropathy causes so much pain in my hips, that I have to change positions frequently to alleviate it some. The autonomic neuropathy has caused acid reflux (gastroesophogeal reflux disease), irritable bowel/chronic constipation, and urinary incontinence. Meds help with these things, but only so much. I have no regular pain management. I ended up not being able to take typical bipolar meds, because I basically shut down on them, and instead use an anti depressant that has been found to help with neuropathic pain. I couldn't take the regulare neuropathy meds because they adversely affected my vision. I had to stop taking the only effective antidiabetic oral med because it caused my body to mimic congestive heart failure. Still I forge on.
Juli ended up bearing the brunt of responsibility for our household when I was so foggy from the bipolar meds and that breaks my heart every time I think about it. When I finally got under control, she was mentally exhausted and she was initially diagnosed as depressed. They tried her on a med, and it gave her suicidal feelings. On further evaluation, she was diagnosed as (just like her mommy) bipolar II disorder.
Ralph is fairly stable right now, just needs to get his a1c down, thank God. He is pretty much handling the household.
Juli had her second surgery for her HS and got MRSA afterwards. She had missed so much school that she had to retake junior year of high school, and is switching schools again.
I know that she too will emerge on the other side of all this as stronger, because she is after all, Martha Jessamine's granddaughter, and she too, will show 'em all!
OKAY- so life can suck, your heart can break, but like the song from Titanic, "My heart will go on". I grieve with you over your losses. If I said or did something that offended you, I am sorry and certainly didn't intend to. I've said that I am sorry.
I AM DONE! I know you hurt, but I will not EVER go back to being a victim for anyone! My mother stayed for 23 years with my father beating her on a daily basis, and even when the sheriff brought him back the shotgun he threatened her with after she snuck it out and took it to the sheriff's office, still she stayed. She woke up one day to me standing over her telling her I didn't know if she was dead or alive. She decided that day to stop being a victim. Today is my independence day. I am not responsible for your pain. I don't deserve to feel like I am. I owe no apology for a sin I did not commit. No more.
(You know who you are and I love you unequivocally. If you choose to cut off contact with me, so be it. I will miss you. We haven't spent much time together, sometimes families just don't get close. I am however not the cause of your grief. I hope when things settle, you will realize this, but if you don't, I won't come begging. I just ask that you not hurt my child. )
Life gives us LEMON situations and we have to really struggle to find our LEMONADE solutions. I, for one, am going to keep finding good in the LEMONs (they are good in Iced
Tea). This is me, moving forward. Good night!