in my brain
I think that I need to give myself a break. During the first three weeks of a my antidepressant tapers (or in this case my being off them all together) I cannot allow myself to get caught up in anything more than a simple task.
Anything that gets even the slightest bit complicated sparks a raging fury that is followed by helpless tears and I can’t control it once it starts.
I learned this last night when I had to replace my credit card number on all the places I have it stored. Netflix and Hulu were a snap but Itunes was giving me fits. I realize today that I probably need to update to the newest version…whenever it’s outdated it gives me trouble trying to get to the most simple screen.
I ended up changing it on my phone, but not before damn near overturning my desk and everything on it from sheer anger. I wasted way to much time and put myself in a crap of a mood for no good reason. I just needed to walk away.
That is not an easy thing for a person as stubborn as me to do. So I ended up going bed in an upset state, sleeping poorly and having horrible rage filled dreams.
I just need to NOT.
To give myself some time and walk away when things start to get even the slightest bit difficult. It’s not a permanent thing. In a couple of weeks everything should start evening out and I can go back to being hard on myself if I have to.
Not now. Now is the time to practice self care. Time to crawl into bed and pull the covers over my head at 6:30 in the evening if I have to. This is not forever.
This will pass and life will get back to normal again. I just need to take it easy on myself until it does.
On that note, I will probably be journaling more to get this shit off my chest. It isn’t fair to my husband for him to be my only emotional punching bag right?
He’s being amazing. So great that every time he comes back with a supportive comment when I’m a seething bitch I feel horrible and dissolve into tears.
I mean, it would be easier if he was being a dick back…I’d at least feel justified.
I totally don’t mean that by the way.
I guess I should talk about the issues that he is going through right now.
About three or four months ago he started getting these random but pretty severe pains. They would travel from his shoulder for two days to his wrist for another two days to his knee to his elbow to his fingers and so on and so forth.
At first I was convinced it was due to the injectible cholesterol meds that his doc had put him on. He had been on them for a few months but one of the side effects was muscle pain. After much nagging on my part he got permission from his cardiologist to stop them for a couple of months to see. It seemed to get better for a small amount of time and then it got much worse.
When the pain traveled to his wrists and fingers he went to his GP, we suspected carpel tunnel and it was all but confirmed by the doc. He told him to get wrist braces and sent him for blood work.
The wrist braces helped a lot but he was still in a lot of pain and it would still move from one random body part to the other.
The blood work came back and the doc told him that he needed to go see a rheumatoid arthritis specialist and gave him a referral.
It took a week to get a hold of the specialist only to be told that he would have to fill out some forms to see if he would be accepted as a patient.
I’m sorry, what??
How does that even work? If you are in the business of helping people you shouldn’t be able to pick and choose who you help. I get it if your practice is full, but that wasn’t the case.
Three weeks later he was rejected as a patient with no reason given.
It turns out that getting into this kind of specialist in our area is not an easy task. It has been almost three months and he still hasn’t been able to get in to anyone yet. The man is in agony 70% of the time but apparently that isn’t a big deal to anyone by he and I.
He is missing work and when he IS at work he is so far behind on his load because he is in too much pain to get it all done.
He is popping Advil like candy and now I’m working about his stomach lining and kidneys because of it.
The worst part of it is because he can’t get seen, there is no light at the end of the tunnel. He is just in pain all the time and knows that there is no end in sight.
It’s really putting a strain on everything. His patience is gone and I don’t blame him. He’s gotten better, but he can still be quite snappy when his pain is severe. It’s in my nature to want to try and help and it aggravates him when I keep asking if he is okay or how I can help.
It bothers me a lot to see him in pain all the time and know there is nothing I can do at all to make it go away or even alleviate it a little.
I just want to make everything better for him.
I guess that is what he wants to do for me with my withdrawals too.
Our household is a hot mess right now, but we will get through it.
We will celebrate 19 years married and 20 years together on the 26th of this month.
I love that man with everything I have.
Please see my previous entry for the background on this one.
So it turns out that the 10 mg taper has been a lot more difficult than my prior two tapers. I have been a roaring bitch for most of the last two and a half weeks. Also, crying. Weepy for no reason whatsoever out of the blue.
While this was felt to varying degrees on the previous tapers, it feels like it was mild compared to my current situation.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m fully functioning. I haven’t missed any work and I’ve even been doing a bit of evening socializing(something I rarely do), but I never know when the bitch switch is going to flip so I would prefer to just curl up in bed with a book.
Now some of this could be due to the time change and the fact that it feels like midnight when I get home from work at night. That alone makes me feel like I’m not doing anything for myself as I only have about an hour or two at night after work before I retire to bed.
The reason I even entertain that is the fact that I took myself shopping on Saturday. I let myself spend a leisurly four hours at the mall. I got some Starbucks, I got a haircut and I got a bunch of new clothes. On Sunday I did practically nothing. I laid in bed and read and played games on my phone. After the weekend, I felt recharged.
I’m still irritable and weepy and I am absolutely dreading when PMS is going to hit this weekend, but I feel better I think than I have the last two weeks.
Having said that, I give you the notes that I have made for my symptoms on this taper:
Flushing – my face has been red and warm for no real reason. (more towards the beginning of the taper) My face tends towards rosacea anyway, but this is noticable when there are no trigger factors involved.
Meh – I had two or three days where I just didn’t feel anything. No anger, no sadness, no happiness. I was basically just putting one foot in front of the other and going through the motions.
Stomach – I’ve had some random stomach issues. Some gastritis, also weird random stomach pains. Not often but a few times. Could be completely unrelated, but I was noting everything that I was feeling.
Disconnected – This kind of goes along with the Meh one. I’m not even sure how to describe it other than I just felt disconnected from things around me. I had no real interaction with things or people and when I had to I was completely faking it.
Heart palpitations – To be fair, I have had these ongoing for a while now because of the Keto diet and my magnesium deficiency, but I felt they have been elevated since I started tapering from the Celexa. Of course like a lot of these symptoms, I never associated them with the withdrawal until recently.
Dizziness – This has been rare and so slight when it happens, that I hesitate to mention it at all. However, I said I would document everything so last week I did have a couple of episodes where I felt a little dizzy upon standing.
Tired – SO TIRED. Again this could be the time change, but I’m just really tired all the time. I take the magnesium and CBD oil to get to sleep and once I’m there I get a really restful sleep, I just still feel tired the next day. It seems to be better this week, but last week was almost unbearable. Just pure physical and mental exaustion.
Emotional (Cranky and Weepy) – This has been the worst so far. It is also the very thing that kept me on the antidepressant for so long. Whenever I would accidently miss a dose I would be hit with such waves of rage and misdirected anger the day after that I just assumed the drug was clearly needed. It never occured to me that it could just be a withdrawal symptom.
I’ve been out of control cranky this taper – but I’ve been warning all my co-workers and my husband and they seem to be taking it okay. My husband has been beyond supportive of my efforts to get off the Celexa. He’s just been amazing and I can’t be thankful enough for this fact.
I get ragey mad over stupid little things like not being able to find my pen on my desk or getting my ring caught in my hair. And then I cry because I know I’m out of control and I think I will never be normal again.
I cry when my husband is supportive. I cry when my dog puts her chin on my arm. I cry when my Amazon order doesn’t come on time. I’m a hot mess.
Eating the world – I have wanted to do nothing but eat of control the last couple of weeks. I’m trying really hard to stay on my diet, but even when I do I’m over eating. Constantly grazing and snacking and eating full meals and not getting full. And then when I am full, having to physically restrain myself from eating more because I just want to stuff my damn face. So much for losing the weight the Celexa makes you gain…
Restless legs – I have never had RLS before and when I started getting it a few weeks ago, I didn’t associate it with the taper. I just figured that it was because I was so tired and well, life after 40 is full of tricky little suprises so this must just be the latest fun thing happening to me. And that could still be the truth, but here I am documenting just in case. I have been using a magnesium spray on my legs at night when I get it and it hasn’t been that bad, but it is there nonetheless.
Neck/Jaw stiffness – I have TMJ and I have for all of my adult life. It has never caused me any real pain, just an annoying click every time I open or close my jaw. It’s one of those things that I figured I would get around to correcting “sometime” but it was never a really high priority.
This is another thing that has been happening that I never associated with the withdrawal. I just figured my TMJ was starting to progress and that could be the case, but I’ve been having a some more ear pains and neck/jaw stiffness lately.
Vivid/Strange Dreams – Holy cow, have my dreams been incredibly lucid and real. Especially if I have had any amount of alcohol in my body. I had wine the other night with my friend at dinner and I woke up in a full on panic at the climax of a strange dream where I was running away from something. My heart was hammering.
My dreams without alcohol are still vivid and freaky, but haven’t seemed as anxious and hard to wake up.
The regular dreams are full of espionage and aliens taking over the planet, and they seem so REAL!!
I’m just shocked and amazed that coming off of Celexa can have this amount of withdrawal symptoms and no one ever told me. It’s a shame. People tout the wonders of going on antidepressants, but never tell you the bad stuff when coming off of them.
I guess given my last post, that it is safe to say that I have been feeling out of sorts since Rob’s heart attack. This is totally understandable…but it wasn’t to me.
I didn’t know what to feel, because this has never happened before. I felt like I had to be the strongest person on the planet and play super hero because he was the one that had a major health issue. He was the “weak” party in our partnership now and I had to therefore take over all the duties of the household…whatever that means.
Long story short – I was a hot mess. A red hot mess. I would be strong at home and pretend like everything was okay and spend my day at work having panic attacks and crying jags like they were going out of style.
I was in a constant state of panic. There was nothing else for me. I didn’t just fall into “My Crazy” this time. I held my nose and jumped right in.
It was horrible and exhausting and I knew I couldn’t keep it up.
After a little bit of research, I signed up for some online therapy. I’m not stranger to therapy, having done an 8 year stint in my late teens/early 20’s. I know that it works for me, but it’s so expensive and who has time to go into a weekly session?
The online therapy was much cheaper than in person when you took into consideration that you can write to them whenever you want and as much as you want and they would address your issues at least once a workday.
I have to say that so far it is really working for me. The first thing that my therapist asked me was what I was doing to take care of myself after Rob’s heart attack.
Wait, what? Take care of myself?? Um, I’m doing all I can just to make sure everything is going smoothly and Rob is doing okay.
She put a voice to the thought in my head that kept saying: “Everyone keeps asking how Rob is doing, but what about how I”M doing???” It felt so selfish to think that, but she told me it was totally valid and normal. What a relief!
On her suggestion, I started to research mediation and self hypnosis. I’ve been dabbling in that this week and I have to say I am feeling a lot better. It’s a combination of things actually.
I’ve cut out caffeine, which only fed my anxiety. Instead of coffee in the morning, I drink a steaming mug of Roiboos tea and I love it. It has a naturally calming effect and relaxes me. I have started lightly meditating with the help of an app on my phone, the same with some hypnotherapy session. I just started that the other day so I’m not sure how well that will go. It’s more for my specific anxiety of flying/driving, but on Thursday night I used the deep sleep session and holy cow did I wake up more refreshed than I have in weeks!
I’m taking my vitamins. The only thing I haven’t gotten around to is exercising again, but I will. I have faith.
So my initial reaction to the online counseling is a hearty thumbs up. It’s not for everyone obviously – but as a person who would rather express herself on the page instead of face to face, this is perfect for me and I see myself benefiting it from it a lot.
I never used to have anxiety. I miss those days. I can roughly pinpoint the period when it started for me and that would be back in 2003-5 when I was working a very high stress job and was not getting very much sleep. We would work well into the night and have to be back at work first thing in the morning.
It started as a fear of being on the freeway. All the cars whizzing around us at top speed suddenly made me panic. It never had before and it confused the heck out of both my husband and I when we would take our trips out to Las Vegas from where we lived at Phoenix at the time.
It progressed into agoraphobia. I remember exactly the day that happened. I was wearing heels on a smoke break at work. My friend DD and I were just chatting it up when all of a sudden I looked around and felt dizzy. I felt unsafe, like I might fall down because there was nothing around me that would secure me. That spiraled into a very long prison of anxiety that kept me from wanting to go into open spaces, like parking lots and any sort of area where I couldn’t grab onto a wall or something similar. It only abated once we quit our jobs and moved to California. While we were starting over, I was free of the long stress filled hours at a job that I hated. I began to feel half way normal again. I was still afraid of freeways and heights, but no longer felt the need to hold on to something as I was walking in open spaces.
Lately, the anxiety has been coming back. I wasn’t sure what was happening other than just random panic attacks for no apparent reason. At some points it was because I knew we would be traveling and I hate flying and freeways so either way sucked for me. I found relief in some herbal calming supplements, but it wasn’t helping the underlying issue.
Two weeks ago my husband was admitted to the hospital for an angioplasty that was needed because of the heart attack he had earlier in the week. I have pretty much thought I have been having a heart attack every day since this happened.
I can reason away part of it because of the strain my upper back has been under and how that effects my pectoral muscles in my chest, thus giving me chest pain.
What I am saying is, that I latch on to panic. I don’t know how to stop it.
Yesterday, we broke protocol and left the house. We went to the movies to see The Last Jedi. After I gathered our snacks and we settled in to watch the 80 hours of previews, I found myself looking around at anyone that had just joined us in the theater.
I kept thinking: “Is that the shooter?” “Are they going to the be the one that stands up and blows us all to pieces?”
At one point just before the lights dimmed, an older man came in wearing a red baseball cap and a backpack. In my mind he was wearing a Trump hat and his backpack was full of explosives. This was non negotiable, it was truth. I panicked and wondered if I could convince Rob to leave the theater.
I didn’t of course, but I spent the first 20 minutes of the movie eyeing the fella in the cap and wondering when the bullets were going to start flying.
These feelings are very real in my head. I know it sounds crazy, and it is amazing to me that I can keep them as in control as I do when I am actually feeling them, but they FEEL REAL. I had no doubt that the man in the red ball cap was going to kill us all. It wasn’t a question. The question was how to escape when it happened.
Afterwards I feel stupid, of course. When nothing happens, I feel like an ass for being so paranoid. I wish that I could make myself calm down, but it’s getting worse.
Driving and flying, I get. Those are two situations where you are supposed to be a bit fearful. That you cannot control the things going on around you to a point. You feel sort of helpless.
I SHOULD NOT FEEL PANIC FOR LEAVING MY HOUSE TO GO TO A MOVIE. I just shouldn’t. But I do. Yes, part of it is my own crazy, but part of it is the world we live in right now. This shit only used to happen in horror movies, now it is an almost daily occurrence. I hate it.
My fears were abating and I was feeling normal for a good while. It felt nice and I liked it. But the last couple of years, I can’t trust my fellow man. It scares the hell out of me. I don’t want to leave my house. Seriously. I DO NOT WANT TO LEAVE MY HOUSE! This is not normal or healthy and I don’t know what to do. I don’t have an answer.
But now is not the time to talk about gun control. It’s NEVER time to talk about gun control.
Pappy’s tumor has gotten quite large. What started as a little bump, slowly grew to the size of a plum and then rather rapidly to the size of a lemon. Even faster it reached the size of an avocado.
We decided to have him checked out again at that vets. We haven’t changed our minds as far as treatments go, but we wanted to get their opinion since it had gotten so large and he had been wanting to lick it lately.
They ran some blood work and the results weren’t great. His liver levels were off the charts. They were supposed to be in the 100 something range and they were at a shocking 4000 reading. I don’t understand medical mumbo jumbo, but the vet was pretty sure it has spread throughout his body.
The good news was that his heart and lungs look good. He’s still in good shape other than his arthritic butt and hind quarters – but that is just age. He still doesn’t act sick and thanks to the Prednisone, there is NO decrease in appetite. The end result is that either old age or cancer is going to get him. They don’t know which one will do it first. They told us to watch for lack of wanting to eat and rapid weight loss. They also said that we can leave the tumor alone, but if it gets bigger or starts bother him and he wants to itch it, they can do a drain on it and see if they can remove most of it. I’m not really interested in having him go under anesthesia again at his advanced age, but we’ll see. The other possibility is that it could rupture and we would need to have them do that anyway.
They also told us as a natural alternative we could look into something called Turkey Tail Mushroom. It’s supposed to help boost immune systems and has been showed to help fight cancer. We got some on Monday and started him on it. We will see how that goes.
So we are keeping him on the steroid, anti histamine and stomach pills. I have also added an all natural liver support supplement I got from work and now the Turkey Tail Mushroom.
While Pappy is doing relatively okay other than the whole cancer thing, I am not.
I have never had to deal with this sort of thing. Yes, we had to put Romie down at 16 years of age and that was the hardest decision I have EVER had to make in all of my life, but it came on suddenly. It all happened over the course of a couple of days. He just lost control of his back legs and eventually refused food and water until we had to bring him in and it was the only humane thing to do. I still hurt from that, but at least it was sudden.
The only other experience I have at losing a close loved one was when my grandparents died, and to deal with that I became bulimic. I don’t function well with grief.
I’m not good at knowing my dog is going to die soon but not knowing when. He could go on for a year and that would make me very happy, but the very real possibility is that it could happen much sooner. I am not handling the situation very well. I wake up in the middle of the night and put my hand on him just to make sure he’s still breathing.
I literally can’t even talk about this with my husband or friends because I can’t stop bawling long enough to get words out. Typing seems okay. I can cry and type at the same time. That is why I am blogging this. I need to get this out of my head.
I am not doing well. When I am not on the verge of tears, my mood can be described as salty at best. I’m lashing out at friends that don’t deserve it and inwardly seething all the time about things that shouldn’t be a big deal. Like traffic, or the fact that I can’t find a certain shirt. We’re talking FULL ON RAGE here people. I want to punch and kick and hurt things. This morning I realized I wanted to cut again. I haven’t cut in at least twenty years but this morning the urge was there just as plain as day. Cut the skin, let the blood flow, release the pain.
I didn’t and I won’t because I’ve come way to far to resort to that shit, nor will I stick my finger down my throat and throw up the feelings, but it’s a little unnerving to me that it came on like that. I just don’t know how to deal with this.
And you can tell me it’s just a fucking dog until you are blue in the face, (black and blue, because I will probably punch you if you said that to my face.) but it’s so much more than that. If you knew just one fraction of love that this dog has given me in the last ten years, you would be openly weeping right now. I know that every dog owner goes into the adoption process knowing it is only temporary. They are only with us for a little while, but the quality of that time is so amazing. If you are not an animal lover, you will never understand. This is my child.
So yeah…not doing well with this. I’m tempted to click on one of those online therapy ads I see pop up on facebook. I did a great deal of therapy in my early adult years and it did me a world of good. Maybe talking to a stranger about this would help. I don’t know.
I guess I should just be glad I realize that this is the reason I’ve been feeling so shitty, but no, that doesn’t really help.
There is no real point to this post. It’s not a cry for help. I will not cut. I will not start binging and purging. It is just a means to try and hash out these emotions and get them out of my head. I will probably write more of them as the weeks go on. Please feel free to skip over them. Life isn’t all sunshine and roses right now.
I am really sorry that the house you were living in while you were NOT fixing up your house next door, burned down. I can’t even fathom being able to afford to live in one place for so many years, while you say you are rebuilding your house. The truth is, your house got built up into a skeleton of a house. The structure was there, but there was no outside or inside construction for many years.
It sucks that the place you were staying burned down and now you have to come back here and try to finish what was started. You don’t really seem prepared for it. Living in a driveway to an empty shell of a house in an RV with three kids and a wife has got to bite big time. I get that. You would think that alone, would be enough reason to speed up the work on your house.
I’m sure that you are aware that my house is at the very end of a one way, dead end street. You would have to be, because on several nights we have had to get your attention from your RV, so that you could move the minivan that you parked smack dab in the middle of the road right before we could get to our house.
We were always very polite and laughed with you. I never once complained when I had to get out of my car and move one of your childs Big Wheels into your driveway after it was left in the middle of the road, so I could get home and park in my own driveway. Those are easy to move.
Lately, however it seems like you just plan on living in your RV, on your property and not really doing much to get yourself inside the sizable house that you own. That in and of itself doesn’t bother me.
What bothers me is that despite the fact that you have two driveways, you still manage to invade our space with one or more of your cars.
Remember when our seasonal neighbors across the street had to put up a chain across there driveway? Yeah, that was because you kept parking your POS van in their driveway while they were gone and it leaked oil all over their property.
I get that having an RV, a van and a car might be a tight fit for two driveways. Perhaps you should have thought of that before you came back? A few of our other neighbors have the same problem. They park at the top of the hill and walk down to their property like responsible human beings.
For the last couple of weeks you have been parking in the space above our gate, in front of another seasonal neighbors gate because you know that he is rarely here. What you don’t know, is when you do that, you make it impossible for my husband to leave for work in the morning without having to do a 3 point turn in our yard. Tearing up our lawn and causing much frustration.
He is too nice to say anything about it and since I have a zippy little Honda Fit that can zip in and out of most tight spaces without trouble, I never knew this was an issue until recently.
Tonight however, you finally took the cake when I got home to find your crappy van parked halfway into our drive space. I could barely get my Fit into our driveway without hitting you. If your car is still there in the morning, Rob will NOT be able to leave for work without bothering you. There is no way our Odyssey will be able to maneuver around your car. That will make him late for work because you are more than likely still sleeping at that point.
You can understand the fragility of being nice neighbors and not wanting to rock the boat. Especially in this day and age, when things can turn violent very fast. But dude! You park under a no parking sign every single night in front a property that isn’t yours! Have some common courtesy! It’s getting fucking ridiculous!
I will never send this letter, of course. I’m only a bitch to you if I know you fairly well, but I’m sick of people being stupid! And you are.
Love and Kisses,
So on Monday night, Rob said to me that we might drive together to work.
A little back story on this. Rob and I work in the same business park about a half an hour away. Recently, my office switched hours from 8:30 AM to 5:30 PM with an hour lunch break to 9:00 AM to 5:30 PM with a half an hour lunch break. It was something we all agreed on as employees to get an extra half an hour of our non work lives back. This has been going on for about a month now I think and I love it because I get to sleep an extra half hour in the mornings. So before the hours changed, Rob and I would frequently carpool. However, since he usually wakes up with the sun and I tend to sleep in, we haven’t been carpooling a lot.
So on Monday night, when Rob said that, he also added that he might not even set his alarm, in hopes that he could sleep in with me. With that in mind, I set my alarm an extra half an hour early just in case. He was sleeping when I went to bed so I didn’t clear it with him, just did it. How I usually work my alarm is to set it for a half an hour before I need to wake up and then snooze it until I can’t milk it any longer.
Tuesday morning rolled around and Rob was once again, up with the sun. My alarm went off twice and I snoozed it both times before Rob came in and said he changed his mind, he was going to head in to work and we would take separate cars. In my sleepy haze I had forgotten about setting the alarm a half an hour earlier and thought it odd that he couldn’t just wait another ten minutes for me to get in the shower and get dressed but didn’t question it. I kissed him goodbye and fell into a light doze until my alarm went off again.
When it did, I grabbed my phone and checked my email for a few minutes. This is my normal morning routine. Snooze, sleep. Snooze, sleep. Snooze, play on phone until alarm goes off again and then get up and shower.
I did this as I normally do. Got in the shower, got dressed and headed out the door to work.
I noted that the traffic was a bit different that morning, but didn’t think much about it. Got into the work parking lot, and tried to open the front door but it was locked.
My supervisor Julie came running up looking at me like I had three heads and unlocked the door. She said: “Yeah, I don’t normally unlock it until 20 minutes to 9. I looked back at her like she had five heads and said: “Am I early?” In my head I only had five minutes to clock in. She said that I was indeed quite early and pointed to the clock on the wall behind my head that read 8:25 AM.
My mind did a quick spin around and I recapped the events of the morning. I got up and played on my phone -that CLEARLY displayed the time. I got in the shower, where we have a CD player that has a clock. I checked that clock several times to see if I had time to shave my legs and NEVER NOTICED I was a half an hour earlier than I should be. We have a talking clock that goes off every hour in the kitchen that we never reset after the time change. While I was getting dressed, I heard it go off saying: “It’s nine o’clock AM” and I laughed to myself, saying out loud: “No it’s not you liar, it’s only eight.”
SO MANY instances that I should have noticed that the time was off, and yet I didn’t notice a single one.
As I relayed this to Julie, she had a good chuckle but I was truly disturbed. How in the world did I never notice?
Thankfully, she let me start early and leave at five, but I was seriously mystified at my own lack of attention to the time that morning. Is this how dementia starts? I know I am mentally disturbed, but is it going to be certifiable now?
I got home and relayed the story to Rob. He laughed for a while and then made me feel better by pointing out that I have had the same schedule for ten years before it recently changed. I was simply on auto pilot, having not remembered that I changed my alarm the night before. I guess it makes sense, but damn. I felt like a bit of a buffoon on Tuesday.
Anyhoo, have a great Holiday weekend everyone.
I haven’t really hung out with any of my theater friends since 9 to 5 wrapped.
I was having a lot of issues towards the end of that run and I was glad to bid theater ado. It wasn’t theater’s fault it was mine and I just was done dealing with people in general.
I haven’t auditioned for anything since either.
There is a play currently running that stars a bunch of my favorite people and yet I have been putting off seeing it. Twice I have made plans and then backed out on them. I even tried to tonight but my husband was having none of that. I thank him for that.
We went to the show tonight and I felt back at home. Whatever issues I was having during 9 to 5 with my personal life have been resolved and I miss my theater family. Maybe that is the reason itself that I wanted to avoid going. I am always wary of opening up and letting people in my life.
I consider the director of this show one of my closest friends and I hadn’t seen her in months. The mere minutes that we were able to hang out before the show and during intermission felt like home. At the end of the show I was able to hug and hold and talk to, no matter how briefly, the actors that I have come to love and respect and it felt good, and yet hurt at the same time.
I need to stop hiding. I need to embrace my friends again and not care that it means I will have less time to sit on my couch and disconnect with my own reality.
At my office we play the lottery twice a week. It is not mandatory and I shudder to think of the amount of money I have actually put into it over all these years (please do NOT do the math for me, I am purposely blocking it out!) but I have to play it. It’s the same reason my mom had to play it every week when I was growing up. It’s the dream of “what if?” What if I don’t play and we win this week?
My favorite game to play is “What would you do if you won the lottery?” I’ve been playing this game since I was a kid, fueled by my mother’s dreams of winning the Megabucks lotto when we lived in Maine. It is an extremely fun game to play and I am pretty sure that anyone who has ever bought an actual lottery ticket has played this game. Even if you don’t actually gamble, you can still play the game, you just won’t have that hope in the back of your mind that it could actually come true.
The first thing I would do if I won the lottery would be to keep it as secret as possible. I have heard the horror stories of all the family and “friends” that come crawling out of the woodwork when you hit it big financially. I know who my friends are and I know who I will want to help. I’m generally a good hearted person and I want to help out people when I can but if I were to give money to every sad sack story that came my way from people I said hi to once when I was 14 years old, I wouldn’t have any money left over. I don’t know how logistically it would work to keep a big financial windfall secret, especially if it came by way of something so public as the lottery, but I would sure try. On another note, I would also try my hardest not to turn into a total bitch. There is a fine line between weeding out the people that are simply out to make a quick buck of your good fortune and being an ice queen with a heart of stone. Having said that, I’m sure I would have to develop a thicker skin because the people that I might refuse help to would probably not be the nicest to me after I say no.
Wow, I can easily see how some people say that they wish they never won the lottery. There are sure a lot of these things to think about. But enough of the negative! Let’s get on to the fun part of the game!
One of my first orders of business would be to get my Mom set up in the best assisted living apartment money could buy, pay off any debt she might still have and set her up with an accountant to work with her on a living allowance.
I would buy our house from Rob’s parents and pay SOMEONE ELSE to renovate the upper and lower cabins, maybe the main house too while Rob and I stay at a luxury hotel. Hmmm…that sounds nice.
I would buy my brother and his wife a house in the location of their choice, as well as making sure Rob’s family had everything that they might need.
Now that I have helped out our families, here comes the fun stuff! I would travel. EVERYWHERE! Europe, Cruises, Road trips across the states in an RV…yes please! All of the above and more.
When I had gotten my fill of traveling I would probably have to take a volunteer or part time job because after a while sitting on the couch watching TV or crocheting would start to make me a little batty. I would love to volunteer at a no kill animal shelter, or even better start a rescue farm for dogs. I would for sure pursue my wannabe hobby of photography. I love taking pictures but camera equipment is so expensive! Not a problem when you are a millionaire!
I would buy Rob his own recording studio so he could play and record his guitar to his heart’s content.
There would of course be a personal trainer and a private chef so that I would finally get the body I’ve always wanted without having to do all the prep and cooking work.
I would probably own a ridiculous about of dogs from volunteering at the shelter and all of those dogs would only know love and luxury.
And more traveling.
*sigh* I need to start buying more lottery tickets. 🙂
I have a tendency to start new hobbies, get obsessed with them, buy up any and all possible materials to work on said hobbies and then lose interest in them after getting busy with work or life. All of the supplies then get moved into the upper house for storage and I await my next hobby/obsession.
I admit that I have probably wasted a ton of money over the years by doing this but I just can’t seem to help it.
Things I have tried and never stuck to:
Jewelry making, Rubber Stamping, Embossing, Cross Stitch, Needlepoint, Selling Avon, Collecting Dolls, Toll Painting, Knitting, and those are all just off the top of my head. I am sure there are tons I am forgetting from years gone by. (To be fair, selling Avon lasted two years but I got PAID for that. Not a lot, but enough.)
I long to be creatively talented but alas, I just can’t seem to stick to anything. I have always and will always write. I don’t see that as a hobby, more like something that is just in my blood. I can’t not do it. But I see all those fun and imaginative things people put up on Pinterest and it makes me want to be artistic like that! I really want to be…I’m just not.
Having that knowledge however has never seemed to stop me from trying. And buying. Beverly’s and Michael’s craft stores shiver with delight when they see me walk through the doors. All the sales people wish that they worked on commission when they see me walking the aisles, placing items into my already overflowing cart. I guess I figure that if I keep trying hard enough eventually something might stick. Never mind that I have been doing this since I was a teenager.
My latest endeavor is crochet. I love the idea of it! I love that you can make so many interesting and different things using just a needle and some yarn. I’m talking anything from a hair scrunchie (I actually made one of those!) to stuffed animals and everything in between. If I had all the time in the world, I would be one of those creepy old ladies that have crocheted EVERYTHING in their house. Crocheted dish towels, coasters, placemats, afghans, baby booties and I don’t even have a baby…you get the idea.
If I had the time, the time and the skill that is. Crocheting is HARD! I’m sure it gets easier, but dang! I am currently working on a beanie for my husband and my hands get ALL KINDS of cramped up.
I guess that is what it boils down to. I don’t like when something gets difficult. I know that pretty much makes me lazy but it is the truth. I want to make cute things and for that matter, be skinny and fit, but only if there is an easy way to do it. I want the body of a runner without having to actually run. I want to lose weight but I want to eat whatever I want. I want to be well educated without having to study. I think we all have a little bit of this personality trait; I just seem to have it in abundance.
Not to the point where I complain about the lack of these things that I want really. I will fully admit to you the reason I am not losing weight is because I choose bad foods to eat and I haven’t exercised in weeks. I’m not sticking my head in the sand and lamenting about how I can’t get all these things. I know perfectly well I could if I just put in the work and effort.
Maybe it’s time to stop working on getting a hobby to stick and start working on motivation to better myself. Something to think about.