So it has been a terrible month. Not wanting to scare people with my deep, all encompassing and horrible depression, I shied away from writing. My friend Vallen (fellow Paly staffer and blogger queenlythings.com) encouraged me and assured me that you all could handle it.
Here is the rundown.
I cried constantly for 2 weeks. So much so that my daughter asked “are you going to cry again today Mommy” (which of course made me cry). I couldn’t eat or sleep. I would call my husband and cry. I couldn’t understand why I didn’t feel the sense of elation that everyone said they would have if they too a year off work. I scared myself.
Finding a therapist was a challenge. The people who had open practices either didn’t take my insurance or I knew them from school or people I worked with knew them. I finally found someone and things fell into place. So for the time being I see her twice a week. It has helped. Steve and my friends now have a reprieve from my calling, crying and generally freaking out. They are now all able to answer their phones without cringing. I am forever grateful for their patience.
School started and in my ego induced state; I was sad and offended that not a single person needed anything from me. I mean seriously, no info, no forms, no…..well, nothing. It felt like 3 years of hard work down the drain and discounted. Back to the crying, back to the therapist.
I miss the structure.
I miss random and easy conversations with co-workers and friends.
I miss people needing me.
I miss the predictability.
I miss being able to tell people what I do without hedging.
I miss my confidence and trust in my abilities.
I think I am realizing that I was (and still am, I am sure) only reacting to people, things and events. I am going to try and change that. I can’t be scared of people I might see or things I my encounter.
Doesn’t mean I still don’t feel it, just means that I am going to fake it till it becomes the reality.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Monday, August 18, 2008
First day I would have been at work
Today is the first day that I would have been at work. Instead I was home cooking chili from the dried beans up (don’t be too impressed, it ended up burned, but edible). I cleaned, made job charts, a checklist for housekeeping, taught the kids what way too much laundry in the washer looks like and when he got home, sat in my husbands lap and had a bit of a sob-fest. While I normally would have been talking to my staff about the process of the school year, I was talking to my kids about the 180-degree change that their lives are about to take.
See, we are used to having someone come to our house everyday to do laundry, put it away, do dishes, straighten up, make beds, make dinner, lunches and overall declutter. I have realized that Steve, the kids and I have all become very lazy and in a word, slobs. We have not had to take care of our housework for 3 years. Granted, this was essential service that helped our family, but we grew soft. This will be very good for the kids, because they are ready to step up and increase their responsibility. I am sure it will also be good for Steve and me…. blah, blah blah.
But back to the sobbing. Since this is the first day that normally I would be at work, I am feeling a huge sense of loss and insignificant. I know I am a Mom and a Wife, and those are much more important on the life continuum. I can’t help it. As a teacher and administrator I can see the change and help I give. It is tangible and I made tons of important (at least it seemed like that at the time) decisions everyday. I had some control. Home seems to be a never-ending cycle of the same.
You will notice that I seem to be obsessed with control in my life and my lack of it. After the seizure, I realized that I couldn’t count on anything. I might drop and have a seizure at any moment, wake up unable to walk or feel my feet, forget where I am driving to or where I am, be too fatigued to get a glass of water for myself, lose my words and not even realize I am calling the refrigerator a dishwasher. What do I have control over? It used to be certain parts of work. I could count on a kid coming to my class every everyday begging for a soda or that at a football game another student would end up suspended or that a set of parents will bring food to a meeting. I liked the predictability. I appreciated the camaraderie of lunch and commiserating about stuff. Although I complained about the number of meetings I had, I loved the process of having a problem or conflict and helping kids and parents coming to a solution or resolution that worked.
What do I do now? What do I control now? How do I make it through the day when my confidence is at rock bottom with no light at this point? I know, I know. It will come; I just need to be patient. Steve says to look at this leave as I would my teaching job. So here I go, looking up homemaking sites, reading other blogs and making checklists etc. Let’s see how it all plays out. It’s just been a rough and challenging day.
See, we are used to having someone come to our house everyday to do laundry, put it away, do dishes, straighten up, make beds, make dinner, lunches and overall declutter. I have realized that Steve, the kids and I have all become very lazy and in a word, slobs. We have not had to take care of our housework for 3 years. Granted, this was essential service that helped our family, but we grew soft. This will be very good for the kids, because they are ready to step up and increase their responsibility. I am sure it will also be good for Steve and me…. blah, blah blah.
But back to the sobbing. Since this is the first day that normally I would be at work, I am feeling a huge sense of loss and insignificant. I know I am a Mom and a Wife, and those are much more important on the life continuum. I can’t help it. As a teacher and administrator I can see the change and help I give. It is tangible and I made tons of important (at least it seemed like that at the time) decisions everyday. I had some control. Home seems to be a never-ending cycle of the same.
You will notice that I seem to be obsessed with control in my life and my lack of it. After the seizure, I realized that I couldn’t count on anything. I might drop and have a seizure at any moment, wake up unable to walk or feel my feet, forget where I am driving to or where I am, be too fatigued to get a glass of water for myself, lose my words and not even realize I am calling the refrigerator a dishwasher. What do I have control over? It used to be certain parts of work. I could count on a kid coming to my class every everyday begging for a soda or that at a football game another student would end up suspended or that a set of parents will bring food to a meeting. I liked the predictability. I appreciated the camaraderie of lunch and commiserating about stuff. Although I complained about the number of meetings I had, I loved the process of having a problem or conflict and helping kids and parents coming to a solution or resolution that worked.
What do I do now? What do I control now? How do I make it through the day when my confidence is at rock bottom with no light at this point? I know, I know. It will come; I just need to be patient. Steve says to look at this leave as I would my teaching job. So here I go, looking up homemaking sites, reading other blogs and making checklists etc. Let’s see how it all plays out. It’s just been a rough and challenging day.
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Staying home without going shopping.
I don't know about you, but I am a girl who when I have extra time will sleep or shop. I used to have all kinds of things I liked to try. I once had high hopes of being very homemakery and crafty. I took classes, read Good Housekeeping and tried to buy every kitchen gadget known to Martha (Stewart that is, not Washington, she played the spinet). Sleeping was getting boring. Since I am not working and therefore poor, shopping was out.
So a home-makin' I will go, or at least Google-map it. It all started with making bread, moved on to painting fabric, more bread, scrapbooking, bread, organizing and labeling everything in sight, bread, a failed attempt to make jam. Now, the failed attempt at the jam was because I was too tired and besides, the Olympics were on.
Why the homemaking? I think it was all the working parent thing and now my job title is sans "working". My husband's mom, Deb, worked full time and was crafty. My mom, Joyce, was a stay at home mom and I remember her taking the popular 70's art classes like macrame (yep, it's spelled right, I checked), and whatever that "art" is that you have a ceramic figurine and you spray paint it (apparently the only color they had in those days were were gold and sparkly gold). Even though I was exposed to all of this culture, the only person who took to it was my sister, Kama.
Kama took sewing and macrame classes and did NOT get kicked out of ballet. Her sewing class and expertise scored her a special area in the house with her own sewing machine and pegboard filled with wondrous pointy objects hanging on it. I on the other hand, held to my feeling that sewing was stupid and who wants to make big owls with prickly string, big bead eyes and deadwood anyway. I was a tomboy. I mowed lawns for gosh-sakes. I only dressed up when threatened with giving me "something to really cry about".
Why the latent interest in crafts? If I am to get all existential, it is my need to have something to show for my time here on earth. To give something for my kids to remember about their upbringing and time with me. I don't want my kids only memories of me to be injections, unpredictable "cane days", dropping on the floor seizing, shaking and bleeding in a bookstore or the ziiiiiippppp sound of a grocery store-made Thanksgiving dinner in a box (Whole Foods has a great one, by the way) opening. My kids have gotten to the point where not much phases them as far as my health. My current craft interest, however gives them pause. They look around wondering if Rachel Ray is cooking dinner in 30 minutes.
Well, I'll show them. They will paint their shoes, lunchboxes, canvas bags and anything else I can throw their way. Garden, bake bread (I guess I should seek therapy for the carb addiction), cook with stuff from our garden, have cut flowers on the table from our garden and actually make dinner with non-processed ingredients. Then, they will scrapbook, create masterpieces with various sizes and types of stickers so they will damn well remember how crafty and homemakey their mommy was!
So a home-makin' I will go, or at least Google-map it. It all started with making bread, moved on to painting fabric, more bread, scrapbooking, bread, organizing and labeling everything in sight, bread, a failed attempt to make jam. Now, the failed attempt at the jam was because I was too tired and besides, the Olympics were on.
Why the homemaking? I think it was all the working parent thing and now my job title is sans "working". My husband's mom, Deb, worked full time and was crafty. My mom, Joyce, was a stay at home mom and I remember her taking the popular 70's art classes like macrame (yep, it's spelled right, I checked), and whatever that "art" is that you have a ceramic figurine and you spray paint it (apparently the only color they had in those days were were gold and sparkly gold). Even though I was exposed to all of this culture, the only person who took to it was my sister, Kama.
Kama took sewing and macrame classes and did NOT get kicked out of ballet. Her sewing class and expertise scored her a special area in the house with her own sewing machine and pegboard filled with wondrous pointy objects hanging on it. I on the other hand, held to my feeling that sewing was stupid and who wants to make big owls with prickly string, big bead eyes and deadwood anyway. I was a tomboy. I mowed lawns for gosh-sakes. I only dressed up when threatened with giving me "something to really cry about".
Why the latent interest in crafts? If I am to get all existential, it is my need to have something to show for my time here on earth. To give something for my kids to remember about their upbringing and time with me. I don't want my kids only memories of me to be injections, unpredictable "cane days", dropping on the floor seizing, shaking and bleeding in a bookstore or the ziiiiiippppp sound of a grocery store-made Thanksgiving dinner in a box (Whole Foods has a great one, by the way) opening. My kids have gotten to the point where not much phases them as far as my health. My current craft interest, however gives them pause. They look around wondering if Rachel Ray is cooking dinner in 30 minutes.
Well, I'll show them. They will paint their shoes, lunchboxes, canvas bags and anything else I can throw their way. Garden, bake bread (I guess I should seek therapy for the carb addiction), cook with stuff from our garden, have cut flowers on the table from our garden and actually make dinner with non-processed ingredients. Then, they will scrapbook, create masterpieces with various sizes and types of stickers so they will damn well remember how crafty and homemakey their mommy was!
As God is my witness, they better have fun doing it!
I know I am.
Are you?
:-)
I know I am.
Are you?
:-)
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
The Beginning of "The Year"
I have worked since I was 12 (I mowed lawns, so that counts, right?). I have either been in school or worked. I have worked as many as 3 jobs at a time (oh to be young). For the last 14 years I have been a special education teacher. I always worked summers.
5 years ago, I was dizzy (not in the fun kind). After a bunch of tests, I was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis. It sucks. I have 2 little kids, a great husband a job I love, friends, family and a chronic, progressive, autoimmune disease that has no predictability. Great! OK, so I am not dying, but with all the weird crap that goes along with an autoimmune disease (fatigue, depression, fatigue, dizziness, fatigue and OH the FATIGUE! but I will get into the fatigue part some other time) it was tough to deal with.
Basically, I felt awful for 4 and a half years.
Then, for 6 months I felt great. OK, not the way most people feel great, but great on the MS scale (ya know, being able to stay up past 8pm). On April 12th I was at a bookstore with my 8 year old son and I started having aura's or what I affectionately like to call them, "flashy things". Long story short, I had a grand mal seizure, right there in the bookstore, right in front of my son, right in front of the sports book section. EMS, FD, ER, EKG, EEG, MRI = TCS If you don't have a siezure from the tests of flashing lights and heavy breathing, you can get one from all the acronyms (there is a blog of acronyms, I swear!).
My brain surgeon doctors (I mean they really are brain surgeons) tell me that these are two chronic, unpredictable diseases that BOTH affect the brain, MY brain. Seriously? Oh yea, and the best part.......THEY ARE NOT RELATED! Yea, I just happen to have them BOTH. Well, aren't I the little petri dish!
Thus, the blog, 1 Year To Health. I decided to take a year off of paid work and see what it would be like to let my body rule my life rather than forcing my body to live my current life. I mean, who wouldn't want to take a year off work and try and focus on personal health and wellbeing and who wouldn't want to read about it? :-)
Thanks for reading!
Kris
5 years ago, I was dizzy (not in the fun kind). After a bunch of tests, I was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis. It sucks. I have 2 little kids, a great husband a job I love, friends, family and a chronic, progressive, autoimmune disease that has no predictability. Great! OK, so I am not dying, but with all the weird crap that goes along with an autoimmune disease (fatigue, depression, fatigue, dizziness, fatigue and OH the FATIGUE! but I will get into the fatigue part some other time) it was tough to deal with.
Basically, I felt awful for 4 and a half years.
Then, for 6 months I felt great. OK, not the way most people feel great, but great on the MS scale (ya know, being able to stay up past 8pm). On April 12th I was at a bookstore with my 8 year old son and I started having aura's or what I affectionately like to call them, "flashy things". Long story short, I had a grand mal seizure, right there in the bookstore, right in front of my son, right in front of the sports book section. EMS, FD, ER, EKG, EEG, MRI = TCS If you don't have a siezure from the tests of flashing lights and heavy breathing, you can get one from all the acronyms (there is a blog of acronyms, I swear!).
So now, if you are keeping up, I have Multiple Sclerosis & Tonic-Clonic Epilepsy.
ARE YOU KIDDING ME????
ARE YOU KIDDING ME????
My brain surgeon doctors (I mean they really are brain surgeons) tell me that these are two chronic, unpredictable diseases that BOTH affect the brain, MY brain. Seriously? Oh yea, and the best part.......THEY ARE NOT RELATED! Yea, I just happen to have them BOTH. Well, aren't I the little petri dish!
Thus, the blog, 1 Year To Health. I decided to take a year off of paid work and see what it would be like to let my body rule my life rather than forcing my body to live my current life. I mean, who wouldn't want to take a year off work and try and focus on personal health and wellbeing and who wouldn't want to read about it? :-)
Thanks for reading!
Kris
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