Tag Archives: coping

Curve Balls – Expect the Unexpected

curve_ball

Why does life throw unexpected curve balls when you’re sitting comfortably in the bleachers, minding your business, enjoying a plump hot dog – then, BOOM! The ball has too much curve and bonks you in the head.

We never expect the unexpected. Why is that? It always comes, doesn’t it? Life is not perfect. Never will be – no matter how much we change our circumstances or behaviors.

I’m feeling like pouring a half-glass of wine . . . then drinking what’s left in the bottle.

Blending families is hard. Even when the “kids” are all grown. I thought by choosing an older mate and by ensuring our children were adults and on their own would allow us to focus on our own lives and enjoy- each other. That’s not how things always work.

One day, “things” change, and in creeps resentment like a legless zombie. Behind it – anger peeks around corners. Life begins to change.

Merging families. How do people do it every day in the United States? Doesn’t it exhaust everyone involved? Especially those with young kids involved.

I wish I could remove the heaviness from my spouse’s eyes and the grief from his chest. Not everything has a “fix,” I guess.

I’m tired, disappointed, confused. I hope you, my couple hundred blog followers, have found ways to blend your families and live fulfilling lives. XO

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From Depression and Abuse To Happily Ever After

proud-of-self

I like the part that says, “you remember when you thought things were such a mess that they’d never recover.” I lived through 7 years of hopelessness after a divorce from a 25-year marriage. I saw absolutely no future for myself. One day, I had enough support and guts to lift my head from the sand and make a change in an area of my life that was a chronic problem – I broke off  an abusive relationship. It was a tough process that involved an eventual Order of Protection from the court. That made all the difference. The clouds parted, sun shone on my face, and I found purpose again. Yes, I like the sentiment above because I AM proud of myself and the person I fought to become.

It’s never too late to live happily ever after . . .

Smiley Flower Happy!

My Own Trail of Tears – A Poem

crying-eye

Why do I leave a trail of tears wherever I trod?

Innocent people, undeserving of punishment but receiving it anyway . . . because of knowing me.

I try to be sincere. I try to be kind.

But I have a way of leaving a path of pain behind me as I push forward in life.

Shall I stand stagnant and still?

Do I drop and dismantle my desires?

Or carry on, hoping the poison I emit will eventually be used up and gone?

Tonight I cry . . . my own torrent of tears.

Creeping, Sneaking

Stuff it. Hide it. Ignore it. Deny it. Hold it off. Push it away.

Like an ostrich or a child’s game – it’s not there if you pretend it isn’t.

Til one day you aren’t paying attention, and it creeps into your consciousness. Damn! Once it’s in the present, pushing it back takes time and effort and tears.

You can try to eat it away. Spinach dip, fritoes, M & Ms, salad, diet soda, meatballs – nothing really works. You’re only too-full AND still depressed, sad, alone in the world.

Depression is a bitch. She sneaks into unused spaces in your head and waits, poised, ready to strike when least expected.

Take a Tums, watch a couple of sitcoms. Nope.

Waste time on ebay, a vintage necklace is nice. No.

No energy. No drive. Worthless. Hopeless. Angry that it’s back. But, it isn’t as severe this time. Won’t last.

Didn’t last. Thank god. No more looking at old photos, letters, and greeting cards from dear loved ones. You knew better. Thought you could push the envelope and sort through an old box. Good try. Next time, don’t let there be a next time.

 

Coping ~ Herbs, Pills, What?

I am trying to live a more healthful life style. So, I’ve cleaned up my eating and spend my days unpacking, cleaning, and stretching. However, I still have mid-life issues with my female body.

Insomnia being a chief complaint. I introduced Lunesta to my world a couple of nights ago. This is night three. So far, it does the job pretty well. I hate to take sleep aids, but I have GOT to rest at night. So much for a “clean” lifestyle, because I also take an antidepressant and estrogen/progesterone.  3 pills at night and a gel. I’m an “old person” now, I suppose.

After classes start next month, I’m hoping to tire my mind and body so that I sleep on my own again! Depression? I may stay on that pill a bit longer. When PMS becomes volcanic, it helps to have something that at least takes the edge off.

When did it become the norm to throw pills at our problems? What did my grandparents do when they hit menopause or related age/coping issues?

My dad completed suicide when I was 23, and he was almost 45. Until the last few years, I couldn’t fathom how Daddy could have gotten to a state of mind that he saw NO other way out of his problems but to die. Well, I’ve been there and don’t want to go back. Scary, black place that sucks you in and won’t let go.

So, back to the coping with pills. Are they crutches? Are they a temporary help in a time of real need? What do you think? Really?!

Ch Ch Ch Changes . . .

Well, today is the first day of autumn. Another milestone of the year passing and a new holiday season approaching. La Tee fricking Da. I’m so sick of changes in my life that I want to spit toward an old person, pinch a baby too hard, or throw rare library books!

My friend, J, reminded me that most the massive changes in my life over the last 4 years have been of my own choosing. She’s correct, as usual. She’s a smart lady.

Just because I chose the changes to reach goals, doesn’t mean I like the stress, depression, anxiety, and fatigue that go along with it all.

I applied hair color about thirty minutes ago and still have about ten minutes to process, so here’s my blog for the day:

How do I deal with Stress? Don’t say exercising or meditating! Those don’t work for me. I’ve been medicating here and there, but that’s not a healthful coping skill for the long term. A good, wracking cry really does take the edge off many times. I did that last night! My boyfriend, Jerry, invited me to cry on his broad, strong shoulder. I did. Left wet spots on his gray shirt. He didn’t care. That’s love for you.

With the Major Depressive Disorder diagnosis I got from my last Psychiatrist, I’ve come to recognize symptoms of overload when they rear their ugly heads. Now is one of those times. Even “retail therapy” doesn’t work. 😉

So, if you are one of my many readers who suffer from anxiety, depression, or similar disorder, hang on tight to someone or some thing. We know this will pass. We’ve been through it before and come out the other end. Doesn’t make it hurt any less, but at least we know the answer isn’t in the barrell of a pistol or the bottom of a pill bottle.

So, I’m telling myself and my readers, “Heads up!! It’ll improve!! Always has! Will again!”

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P.S. – My blog stats show that my once many hundreds of readers has dwindled to just several hundred. Duh, it’s my fault for not blogging regularly. I had to relocate to Dallas. Keep your eyes open for more often blogging. Oh, and keep your comments coming. I love reading them and publicly posting a few. XO!!