Goings On

I have been trying to slow down this August and have been really enjoying being a bit more of a homebody.  Bobaloo has been getting the yard all spiffed up and I put up some blue twinkly lights on the back patio.  Pretty good stuff.

 

Nik helping with yard work.
 

  We went to the Rocky Mountain Folks Festival on Sunday to see one of our favorite music dudes, John Prine.  It was a pretty venue and he played one of my favorite tunes called "Lake Marie."

 

I need to start asking people to take our pic, we never have anything in the background!

A friend and I have started doing Mix Tape Mondays on Monday evenings.  We exchange mix tapes with different themes.  Next week's theme is "Roadtrip." 

What's your favorite roadtrip song?

 

Brain Stuff

I started seeing a therapist again.  He’s actually the first one who officially diagnosed me.  Ah, memories…

Things in the brain are going well.  I’ve had a couple of freak-outs in June and July but I think it’s because everything just got so busy and I’m a gal who needs some downtime and routine.  Going back to the doctor is more of a preventative thing than anything else.  The goal is to keep learning more coping mechanisms and getting in the habit of breaking them out in real life.  Isn’t it a strange thing having to “cope” with life?

But, I gotta keep that snowball from rolling downhill, don’t ya know?

Friday

Bobaloo and I both were able to leave work early on Friday so we headed to the tavern and met up with some friends to kick off the long weekend.  This evening also turned into a reminder of why I don't drink whiskey.

 

 

Saturday

I spent Saturday morning cleaning and finishing up the second bedroom project while Bobaloo volunteered at Red Rocks.  Later, we had some friends over in the afternoon for some beer, tunes, grilling, bubbles, and general tomfoolery.  Our neighbor got chickens last week and he invited me over to feed them. So cute!  It ended up being a pretty late night.

 

Bubbles, Nik the HomeDawg, and the rock band.

Sunday

See Saturday's description.  More of the same.  A lot of goofiness.  Plus I watched one of my fave flicks:

 

"I just like to smile, smilin's my favorite"
 

Monday

We checked out the annual duck races in Morrison.

 

 

 

All in all, a good weekend was had.  And I killed some brain cells.

 

 

May 16

 

The 16th day of this Blog Every Day in May challenge has arrived.  Today's topic is Something difficult about your "lot in life" and how you're working to overcome it.  Here we go.

Hmmm…

Today’s topic is a toughy.

I am not sure I really understand the topic but what the heck, I’ll give it a whirl.

I guess I don’t really believe we have a “lot” in life.  We make our own opportunities and some things happen by chance.  When life stuff happens, we can choose what kind of perspective we have surrounding our circumstances.

There was a time after we got married when Bobaloo and I were really struggling.  The job market was miserable and good any jobs were hard to come by.  We were fortunate to always be able to put a roof over our heads and food on our table, but money was always too tight for comfort and we were stressed.  It didn’t make sense; we worked so hard and didn’t deserve this.

At the time the lean years were miserable and frustrating; looking back they seem like a gift.  Out of the tough times, I learned that Bobaloo and I would do whatever we had to in order to take care of one another.  Even when that meant taking awful, awful jobs and dealing with awful, awful people.

I remember sitting on the patio with Bobaloo one night and laughing our heads off at how things couldn’t possibly get any worse.  And then they would.  This cycle repeated itself multiple times.  It was at this time when I think Bobaloo first thought up the phrase love-rich as in, “We may not have much, but baby, we’re love-rich.”  And it was true.  I am not so naïve to think that all you need is love, but love and a sense of humor can sure get you through some crappy times.

Gradually we both caught some breaks and now things are a lot better and much easier.  Some of the breaks were because of hard work and persistence and some were just dumb luck.  The good stuff has been all the more sweet because of the tough stuff.

I have been both up and down and at times felt stuck or like I couldn’t get out of my “lot in life” no matter what I did.  The important thing is, no matter where I was or whatever my situation may have been I have always found kindheartedness in the people around me.  Life has gotten easier in the last year or so, but I try to remember that others are still stuck in their “lot” and the importance of returning the thoughtfulness I was shown.



May 8

 

Eight is great!  Still plugging away at this Blog Every Day in May challenge. Ambitious I know, but there are topics posted for every day. Go check it out. Today's topic is a piece of advice you have for others.  Anything at all.  So here goes.

 

Be good and have fun (in that order).

-Bobaloo's Mom

 

 

Resolutions I

When I was going through my 2-year bout with holy heck-I am so sad-anxious-who am I?-what does this all mean?-why can’t I fit?-is my mind going?-better question where is my hair going?-is this worth the trouble?-what the heck is happening to me?*, it was so busy in my head that I stopped everything else. I was motionless and no matter what I tried, I could not move forward.

About a year ago I came back to the land of the functioning; it hasn’t been fully until recently. 

I have taken most of this last year to heal. Restore myself, reconcile to my people, and rejoin the commotion of everyday life.

I don’t have it all figured out. I am still working on it. And that’s okay.

When you panic, it’s your body telling you to slow down and resolve whatever needs resolving.

My life had to come to a complete stop for me to get the message and it turns out there were some things in my life that needed resolution. Taking a Xanax is easy, dealing with shit and holding it together is not. 

It has taken time. 

There has been a lot of gathering, sorting, recognizing, understanding, and finally, removal of shit.

Everyday chores and routines were too difficult to deal with so I just didn’t. Everything and everyone was overwhelming.

I have a few close girlfriends who are successful in their careers, have happy social lives, nice houses, and raising kids on top of that.  When I would visit them during this time I couldn’t help but think to myself, how can someone possibly have the energy for a life like theirs? How is your countertop so clean all the time? You grocery shop, cook dinner, put the mail away, and hang out with your kids? You host brunches on the weekend? You go to the mall, get your hair done, and vacuum all in the same day? How do you do this? Was there a grownup class I missed? How do you find the energy?

How do you do this?

I felt incompetent.

My girlfriends are amazing.

I had just failed to recognize that they were living life.

I was not. 

When we were getting ready to move to the new place, I prepared to move into a new head space. The steps forward have been gradual, but I am moving. That is the important part.

I go to work every day. I take care of the dog. I feed the fish. I make the bed. I do the dishes. I clean.  I pay bills. I tell Bobaloo not to fall asleep on the couch. I have even started helping with dinner on occasion. These things are very small but they make my life.

Almost a year later, I am very proud of this life.

*Sorry to get so technical.

I am learning to work harder and smarter at mental health.  Four years after diagnosis, I think I am finally getting it figured out.  It can be arduous having to self monitor all the time.  Truthfully, when I have my setbacks it is because I get so tired of having to constantly scrutinize moods and what is normal (or habitual) for me. 

It is a lot of work to compare what my moods and actions are to those around me in a particular setting.  It hurts when everyone is in slow motion and I am turning like a pinwheel.  It’s devastating when I am sad and everyone else’s life goes on.  Comparing is necessary to keep me in check, but comparing is a reminder that I am not like them.

My husband and I made the choice a couple of years ago to be open and honest about my mental illness.  Keeping a secret on top of everything just seemed like too much.  Bipolar II and General Anxiety Disorder.  Sometimes getting that reality out of my mouth is easier than others.  It depends where I am at (mentally), where I am at (physically), and who I am speaking with.

People have been overwhelmingly nice and speak about their experiences with loved ones who struggle with mental illness.  They make me okay with things; it’s been an amazing experience.  I don’t know why this was so surprising to me.

Some people don’t understand.   I have lost friends and have been disappointed by relationships I thought were more genuine than they turned out to be.  Sometimes people look at struggle as a character flaw.  I don’t know if I want people in my life who don’t struggle.

The good ones know the certainty of my heart and the strength of my character. 

You learn who your friends are.  You learn who sticks it out.  They understand if you drop out of the world for months at a time and they forgive times when you are agitated and times when you just aren’t quite yourself.

It is a strange thing to have your mind turn against your body, to have your body rebel against its own nature.  And it is difficult to explain to people.  You feel foreign, like you don’t fit anywhere.  The world gets a bit lonely.

I have recently begun to notice the more honestly I chat with people, the more connected I feel to the kindness in the world.  Chance encounters now have more depth.

It’s brave to have heart.

To have had the possibility to understand myself better through others is a gift I am very thankful for.

Showing Up

Things are good.  Well, my things are good.  Other people’s stuff is not so good.  Those other people are my people. 

My tribe.

My folks get tough when the tough gets going.  We rally.  We show up.  We hug and eat hotdish in church basements.  Just being there is highly valued.  You visit the sick and bury the dead.  Period.  End of sentence.

When shit goes down, you show up.

My life is very happy and mellow in Colorado.  I have a good job, a few good friends, and Bobaloo.  I get to be alone quite a bit.  I feel detached from the place I am from, but not the people.  I welcome the autonomy and calmness of my life.

I go back and emotions get triggered.  Being around the people I love most is overwhelming.  All of my awkwardness creeps out and to ease it, I have a few cocktails.  Traveling, too many cocktails, and not enough sleep can bring on mania or at the very least tremendous anxiety.

By the end of the trip I am in shutdown mode.  It is exhausting being on the airplane and knowing you have to pick up the pieces again once it lands.

Showing up.

Showing up means losing my shit.

Shit I’ve worked really hard on.

Is it selfish not showing up to preserve your own peace of mind?

29

It has lifted.

Fresh hell gone stale.

My life has been filled with medications that don’t work, weight stuff, questioning my thoughts, bad thoughts, a train ride to Minnesota to wean off aforementioned meds and thoughts, a lot of missed work.  A lot of missed everything.

Doctors, Shrinks, paranoia, agoraphobia, anxiety, depression, self-medication, pity, the inability to breathe easy.  Not a clear or exact thought entered my head.  I had quite factually fallen on my face and was fortunate to have someone to pick me up. Every single time.

Eight months. 

And do you know what happened?

A couple of days after my twenty-ninth birthday, it all lifted.

Just like that.

With that said, I have missed you and your blogs.

And just so we’re all caught up on things: 

Happy Halloween, Happy Turkey Day, Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Happy New Year, Happy Valentine’s Day, Happy St. Patrick’s Day, and Happy Passover, and Happy Easter.  I think that just about covers it. 

Happy, Happy, Merry, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, and Happy.

I like that sentence better.

The Ketchup Incident

I am not sure when everything changed. I was shy when I was little and kind of nervous as a teenager. I always thought my unease with the world would be something that I grew out of.

My anxiety has only gotten worse, especially in the last couple of years.

Anxiety is tricky and awkward when navigating the world and people. I have been stressed and cried at the UPS store. I have had panic attacks at work and at King Soopers. If I am in a new situation with a crowd? Forget it. Plane rides at the moment are out of the question. My heart gets agitated. I get uncomfortable and upset.

A while back, Bobaloo and I were watching the Bears game and my eyes started welling up because I couldn’t find the nerve and got flustered about the idea of having to ask the waitress for ketchup. Bobaloo got me some ketchup. We often refer to this as “the ketchup incident.” I think that was the first time I realized how bad things had really gotten.

So if I am having a bad day and let Bobaloo know that I had a ketchup incident, he’ll know exactly what I am talking about. The problem with anxiety is that without it, I like meeting new people in new situations. I like going to concerts and being a part of the crowd. I like traveling.

I am anxious but not scared.

I have tried pulling myself up by the bootstraps, pulling it together, putting myself out there, and bucking up. None of these things seem to be very effective. I have tried different medications with varying degrees of success.

How do you ease worry and tension in your life? How do you keep the ketchup incidents at bay?

Smack Talk, Shuttlecocks, and Ducks

I enjoy games. Not a whole lot will make me happier than playing Yahtzee on the patio on a summer day. I also really like Jenga.

I am by and large not a competitor as I do not have an athletic bone in my body and never really get psyched for the big game. Badminton is about as badass as I get. Plus, shuttlecock is a hilarious word.

Invite me to play a board game, cards, or trivia though? BRING IT ON.

My trash-talking, ready-for-action self is ready for the cut-throat competition. I turn into a different person. One who uses phrases such as IN YOUR FACE! and PUT THAT IN YOUR PIPE AND SMOKE IT! There are other phrases loudly expressed but I can’t really think of them when I am not under pressure during an intense game of cribbage.

My best girlfriend Jillian is similar. She’s even more competitive and also has a knack for talking smack. Our cribbage games are interesting to overhear. We almost got into fisticuffs once over a game of Trivial Pursuit. If Jillian ever reads this: I am still right. Luckily, our friendship survived and we were able to carry on with our games.

Camping and Cribbage

Bobaloo is awesome and will play Yahtzee with me. He’s not such a fan of the trash-talk so I keep it to a minimum. Cooperation, not competition.

We also have had a two-year rock-paper-scissor tournament going on. He has consistently won EVERY game for the last two years up until a couple of weeks ago. I won, and the smack talk began. It went on for a good half hour or so. Yep. He wins 100 times; I win once and won’t shut up about it. He reclaimed the title last Sunday so my victory was short-lived. He is a quiet winner. Never bragging, never rubbing it in. Dignified.

Then something happened. Something unprecedented. The 4th of July duck races.

He won the first race (well his duck did).

He cheered his duck on.

Pictures were taken of the winning duck.

We even held a ceremony for the duck: Bobaloo won a tee shirt. We celebrated the duck victory hard (with a pitcher of beer).

He was a proud champion.

He was happy as a duck in water.

A Found Memory From December 2008

Day 1

I went to the doctor’s office before work. The appointment was early, at 7:30. When I got there, there were only three cars in the parking lot. I was hoping the doors to the building would be unlocked. I hate waiting in my car for things, I always think other people think I am lurking. I went in and took the stairs to the third floor because elevators freak me out. If it got stuck who really would come right away and get me out. What if I am trapped in there with a cannibal who needs a snack or something? The door to the waiting room was locked and there was no one in the building. I walked around hoping there weren't any security cameras. I felt like I looked suspicious. I went back downstairs and called Bobaloo. When I told him that there was no one in the building he tried to calm me down and told me that a whole building isn't going to just not show up for work. I was early and maybe, just maybe, if I waited until my appointment time there would be people in the office. After I got off of the phone I was half reassured and half still panicking. My heart rate went up and I started to cry and to add to the lunacy I started breathing deeply through my nose hoping to calm myself down before the appointment. I must have looked like a tool.

At 7:25, I trudged back up the stairs and the office was open and I was out of breath. After I checked in, I sat and admired their oddly chosen wall art. The picture of the two fingers that I think is by Michelangelo and a weird Ansel Adams tree picture. The clocked ticked away and fifteen minutes went by. How can they be late if I am the first appointment? That added to the agitation. Finally I was called in by a young nurse. Little did she know about the impending morning meltdown that would arise. Immediately after the scale, she led me into the icy room with a view of the parking lot. Once the door was closed I preceded to bawl, I am talking some serious weeping. She took my vitals and tried to calm me down, then left, the poor thing. I grabbed a Kleenex off of the doctor's desk and tried doing the deep breathing again so I wouldn't appear as an emotional and outlandish person when the doctor came in.

She came in. I have seen her a couple of times before and she seemed nice enough. I don't know why, but I have always found doctors spine-chilling. She sat on a tiny black stool too close to me. I started crying again and she touched my knees and told me everything would be fine. From there, I calmed down. Good. Breathing is good.

Solitude

Thank you for all the suggestions and tips when I posted The Blog Clog. They were smart, helpful, and downright rousing. I think I have a plan for Jillie Side Up moving forward and am pretty excited about it.

How was the weekend? Bobaloo worked and I didn’t have plans so I spent a lot of time kicking it solo. Do you know what I realized lately? Kicking it solo makes me go a little crazy these days. I get a little glum and my thoughts take on a weird cycle of anxiety and trepidation. What a strange realization.

There was a time where I was content to be by myself and do my own thing. My dad used to call me his little lone wolf. I was able to listen to my tunes, read my books, do my writing, watch my television shows, and be left alone to my own devices. I would take the car for a drive by myself jamming to the radio and enjoying the sights of my travels. A walk around a lake in solitude was a great way to spend an afternoon.

Something happened somewhere down the line because now, being alone leaves me feeling well, alone. So, although it is a little late, the birthday resolution has been decided. I resolve to move forward by getting back to a place where I am content to spend some quality time with me and to do things that I enjoy without apprehension. That’s a good one, I think.

Exciting News Part Two

So here it is!

I got a new job! Hooray! Yippee!

I forgot that this might not be too exciting to you because this is the fourth new job I've had since the inception of this blog. Oh well. Don't rain on my parade.

So, the job is perfect. No nights, no weekends, no icky one-hour bus rides.

New Stuff

Some very exciting stuff is on the horizon. I just can't tell you yet!

Resolutions

Happy New Year!

I’m a little late, but so be it. Did you make any resolutions this year? I usually do not, but this year I decided to quit booze for one hundred days. Yikes!

Do you know what one hundred days looks like?

I made a paper chain and every day I cut off a link.

Wish me luck!

I wish you and yours a blissful and blooming new year, and good luck with those pesky resolutions!

Hello Again

Hello Again. Remember that Shelly Long movie? I used to watch it all the time when I was a kid. Weird. Anyway, I am glad to be back and during my little break I have been enjoying the summer blogging of others. Anyway, let me get you up to speed.

Where to start? The last couple of months have been full of a lot of great, some good, and a little bad. After the move back from California, I have been focusing my energy on getting my Colorado life back on track. It's strange, I am still unable to look at the whole "California" experience objectionably and figure out the why? of it all. I am still unsure what to think of the whole thing, but for now I am doing what a wise dude suggested and am not looking back; moving forward. Easier said than done sometimes, right?

I have never considered myself to be lucky in a good fortune kind of way, however, somehow we were able to get back here safe and sound and get our apartment back and find jobs quickly. In between getting back and my new job I was able to take a nine-day trip to visit my folks and friends in Minnesota and it was good. My parents are wholly amazing and they mended my spirit, always seeing my life from a different panorama than I do.

The job I have now is wonderful, it's exactly what I wanted from employment. I get to walk around, chat with people, fix things, break things, and make people smile. It's up in the hills where I have to drive through three mountain tunnels to get there, which makes me a little nervous, but it's beautiful.

After a couple of weeks of working there, I had a mentor-in-training say, "If you want to walk around in circles for the next three years and wait for a lightbulb to go off, you can by all means do that here." Seriously, on some days that's my job description. Holy buckets! My entire adult life I've been walking in circles waiting for a lightbulb to go off, and now I get paid to do that? Life is hilarious. And if there's a god, he/she's a regular barrel of laughs too!

Well, I'll be back to regular posts now. It's good to see you, my friends.

Just Ducky

So if you are bored this weekend and have stumbled upon Jillie Side Up, you have found me at a funky fork in my life. Do you know what I enjoy about being a grownup? That we all are in various stages of having our ducks in a row.

There is the type of grownup who from an early age had life pretty well figured out. They dreamed their dream and went and got it. Those people’s ducks are fully aligned. I have a couple of best friends who are this type of grownup and I am always amazed at their tenacity and discipline.

There is the type of grownup whose ducks are all there, kind of in formation, and for the most part swimming with some direction. They made it from point A to point B, but not by the means of a straight line but rather a curvy path. I have friends who are of this variety too. What I admire about them is their ability to get to point B while having some fun and doing cool shit on the way.

Then, there is the grownup like me. I have ducks. And they’re really awesome ducks, but kind of rebellious and can never seem to get in a row. I am eleven days late in making my birthday resolution for this year, so here it goes. This year is the year I reign in my ducks and tell them what’s what and where we are going. If all goes well, next April 13th, we will be having a duck-themed birthday party and will be celebrating how pretty my little row of ducks is.