Choir: Take 2?

I’ve been pretty restless most of my day and I couldn’t really pin down what the problem was.  I mean, I’m normally a very hyper person anyways and sometimes that translates out to me being restless, but today’s restlessness had that “something’s up” feel to it.

Trying to combat this feeling, I’ve kept busy much of the day.  A trip to the gym early this morning and I’ll probably add another one on tonight (yes, I’m that restless!)  Watched a bit of TV; purchased another collar for the kitten (this is her third as she’s slipped the previous two,) puttered around the house; spent some time online.

Then the call came – from the choir i had been trying to join.  I was expecting it, but it came as a surprise as the last name of the lady who called is also the same last name of a very close friend, so I thought it was her calling, not the choir.  They were calling to inquire as to my intentions with the choir and to remind me I had a tape of theirs.  No problem.

We had a bit of a discussion. She sounded awkward and stumbled on what she was trying to say and I am pretty sure I sounded the same.  I explained that I was interested in the choir, but to be honest, the idea of an audition had “freaked” me out.  The talk got interesting from there – her telling me they would hate to lose a member because they were worried about the audition while at the same time telling me they all have had to do it… then…

Then I took the plunge and told her bluntly that I have problems with panic.  There was a pause .. not a big one.. but a pause.  She went on to say that while she doesn’t get panic attacks for things like auditioning but she does have claustrophobia and could identify with the panic.  She suggested that I could continue to come to the choir to sing, just that I wouldn’t be able to perform with them in public until such time as I had done an audition or something equivalent (she didn’t have the authority to suggest any alternatives but said she would talk to the choir director.)

Well… Wow!  Big relief there.  I can continue to sing until such time as I am ready to audition.  Horay!

I have to say that it was really hard for me to tell her why I couldn’t go.  I balked at the idea but then I thought to hell with it, I’ll tell her.  I had nothing to lose and everything to gain, I suppose.  And while the agoraphobia was a problem, it certainly wasn’t as big a problem as having to audition, so I know I can do this so long as I don’t have to worry about auditioning.

It’s a weird sort of thing to be reluctant to “out” myself to people about my mental illness (whether it be Bipolar or the Agoraphobia) but I have had difficulties with it lately.  Weird only because that’s what I do for my job… everybody knows I have an illness.  I am the mental health advocate.  Geez.

No matter.  I feel renewed and invigorated.  And next week, I will start back on the road to doing something I really enjoy – singing!

Bye for now

I’m Not Always a PollyAnna

Every now and then, as I mentioned in yesterday’s blog entry, I come face to face with something that reminds me of the limitations that my disability places on my life.  Limitations is probably not the best word as it to me focuses on the “dis” in disability… consideration may be a better word, but when I’m not able to wrap my head around the positive approach, it feels as though I cannot approach it as anything but a “dis” on my ability.

It’s a tough cookie to crack – feeling badly about having a disability – about how it affects your life.  Most of the time, I have no problem at all looking past the challenges to the successes; seeing beyond the “not-so-positive” implications.  Heck!  I’m a pro at this.  I’ve had to be.  It became a method of survival and a tool for success.  It is much of what made me able to succeed at my job and allowed me to act as a role model for others – standing up and saying:

“See.  It don’t matter what your disability.  If you choose to, you can be anything and everything you want to be.  Dare to dream!  Dream to dare!  I know you can.”

Uh huh.  That’s me.  Most of the time.  Probably 95% of my time.

It’s that other 5% that’s the trouble.  It only takes one bad apple to spoil the barrel and it only takes one negative self-thought to wreak havoc on self-esteem.

As I think back on the last five or six years and evaluate all the crap that’s gone on – hubby sick with cancer, hubby’s accident, troubles with kids, me being off work twice, I should be able to view these things with a sense of victory.  I’ve survived.  We (my husband and I) have done really well.  And I tell myself this.  Regularly.  I have to because it helps me keep perspective on the whole picture.  It helps me realize I am strong.

But… something like yesterday, where it became apparent that I could not care for my grandson in a simple, straightforward, matter of fact way – that devastates me.  And it’s not even so much that I can’t care for him – it’s just the very basic nature of the task – something that other people would be able to step up to the plate and do – it’s that part that bothers me.  It’s the stuff I used to take for granted.  It’s days like yesterday, where I come face to face with my limitations and I want to scream out and feel like I could turn around and put my fist through a wall.  It’s those days where I just feel like I’m not much of anything except someone who is somehow suffering a deficit, living with a flaw, less than whole.

You know… I know this stuff isn’t true – on a logical level, but on an emotional level, for whatever stupid reason, it resonates deep within me.  Can’t explain it.  I do know when this happens, I’m usually feeling a little vulnerable and a tad stressed.  I believe the events of the past couple weeks have contributed to this state – hubby’s impending return to work, the holiday discussion, my shoulder continuing to cause me an extreme amount of discomfort, struggling with trying to go to choir, and of course, the WRAP course I have been taking.  Add into the fray, some difficulties with sleeping and it does leave me open to being triggered by things which normally don’t have this effect.

I’m going to try to rebury these doubts … negative thoughts … whatever the heck you want to call them.. I’m at a loss for a good way to describe them.  And I’ll be burying them because, to be quite frank, I’d say I’m going to banish them but I know that’s not what happens.  I’m trying to be really positive here, but I can’t – I know that what I do is walk through life in a state of oblivion or denial… defiance perhaps… I know that I have what I have… and most times I ignore… adapt? … to the ways it affects my life but the bottom line is – it (the disability) isn’t going to go away and it does affect me.  I do what I must do to have a life.  And days like today and yesterday… what’s a person to do really?  The thoughts made me feel low… really low.  I can’t change that I had them and yep, I’m human – they make me feel like a big pile of crap.  It is what it is.

Nobody can be a Pollyanna all the time.

Bye for now.

A Vacation Dilemma

Much of my early day and afternoon was occupied with considering a situation – a vacation dilemma – and funnily enough, it isn’t even my vacation that is the focus of my pondering.   The vacation in question is that of my daughter and son-in-law… a trip to Mexico.

A trip to Mexico!  Great!  Or, that’s the way it would appear at the outset except for several complicating factors.  Shoot.  I’m not even sure how to lay this out for people to understand, and more than that, so that I don’t get myself all worked up about it again.  An earlier conversation with my husband ended with me feeling the need to go for a drive.

Okay.  Where to start?

A few days ago, I was approached by hubby, with him telling me that my daughter and son-in-law were going to go on a trip this winter to Mexico and they wanted us, in conjuction with son-in-law’s parents, to look after their baby.  At that time, I tried to explain to hubby that I wasn’t happy with the situation and why I wasn’t happy with it.  I thought he would take what I had to say and think about it for a bit, but instead he apparently phoned my daughter and told her it was all a “go” because during a phone call this morning, she thanked me for agreeing to do it.

Well.  I didn’t.  Not really.  I’m an idiot for assuming that my husband would come to me for further clarification on what was going to happen.  After the phone call this morning, I went and talked to hubby again and thus ensued the big argument.

I am old fashioned, I guess.  And I’m practical.  The baby, my grandson, will only be 8 months old at the time that his parents go on vacation.  I just can’t shake the idea that I believe when you get married, especially when you have kids, that you need to modify or adapt your lifestyle accordingly.  If this means no trips to Mexico or any other place that you might find it difficult to take a baby, then that’s what you do… at least for the first couple years… you pick other places to go or you may go for a shorter period of time.

Their plans include being away for an extended period of time, and during that time, we (read I… as hubby will be back working) will be taking care of baby during the day and the other grandparents will care for babe at night (they both work.)  I see this as being very disruptive to a baby.  On top of this, despite my husband argueing with me that it will be good for the baby to be with his grandparents, I think that the only thing that will make sense to that baby is that it will realize mom and dad aren’t around.

I worry about something happening to baby and they are so far away and, the flip of that, with them being so far away, what if something happens to them.

I had a long and involved talk with some friends today about the trip and my reaction to it.  One of the things which weighs heavy on my mind is whether or not I am able to care for a baby for that number of days once I factor in my agoraphobia and panic.  Also, it is critical for me to be able to maintain the routine I have developed as it is a crucial part of me staying well.  Add onto both of these things, the knowledge that winter is one of my tougher times because of my difficulties with Seasonal Affective Disorder.  I’m having a really tough time trying to believe that any of the family members even considered these factors. It should be something they do think about… I mean, for Pete’s Sake! … I’m home during the day because I am on disability for the very reasons!!!

The whole idea of my capability of looking after baby is a whole other ball of wax that, even though I don’t want it to, evokes some strong feelings in me about who I am, what I can and can’t do.. stuff around self-esteem really.  I’m not going to get into that indepth here and leave it for a different blog entry when I finally sort out that different branch of thought.

And so, what do I do now?  Hell, if there were an easy answer, I’d jump on it.  Some may say that saying “No,” is simple, but it isn’t.   The trip has already been planned and what I decide will have an effect one way or another on that trip or at least the plans on who and how baby will be taken care of.  The bottom line here is that mom and dad should have thought about this before booking their vacation and not come and asked after the fact.  I can guarantee that won’t be happening again.

Several things will happen if I say “No.”  The kids have apparently talked about having daughter’s mom come to town to look after baby (I’m step-mom.)  This would mean that out-of-town mom would have to book time off work and yada yada yada… a real nightmare.  But a bigger consideration for me saying “No” is the battle that will ensue with me, step-mom, once again being the “bad guy” because I’ve never accepted “the kids” as my own. Gawd.  It’s an unfair assessment made by people when trying to make me feel bad for having my own opinion about things… and I know that’s where this comes from…. but I’m not into that battle right now.  Of all the things I feel capable of at this point in time, I feel far more able to look after baby than put up with another round of that emotional blackmail crap.  Sounds cowardly, I know but it really is the way I feel.

Saying “Yes” seems the far better… easier?… solution. But only with the knowledge that I will only do the childcare with

• the full support and understanding from my husband as to it’s difficulties
• my routine needs to be maintained and he (if he’s home) and kidlet (who lives at home) will have to assist in ensuring that this happens.  Ie… kidlet can make sure she’s home right after school; he can be the one here to receive baby from the other grandparents (if he’s home) so that I can go to the gym.
• the schedule will need to be worked out with the other grandparents.  I’m not into explaining to them about the things that I do to keep me healthy, but we will have to have something solid to work on.  I don’t work well with unknowns.
• arrangements for additional supports if I should have difficulties with my anxiety as well as a contingency plan should it become apparent that things aren’t going to work.
• there will not be another vacation where the child needs care for that long until such time as the child is potty trained

It was suggested that I talk to my psychiatrist and my counselor to find out what they think about the whole scenario.  I’m not so sure that my psychiatrist would have much to say, but I’m certain she would say “I see” and raise her eyebrows in that way that only she can do when I know she’s taking in information that may be of interest due to the experience of knowing how this type of event may affect me.  The counselor… she’ll be sure to ask deep probing questions to get me to consider all ramifications of what’s going on.  More than this, I know she will have a discussion with me about a topic near and dear to my heart – caregiver burnout.  *sigh*  And yes, I am worried about that – not so much how and whether I will be able to cope with looking after baby for an extended period of time – but the after effects… the come down period.  Yep.  I am.

What’s a person to do?  I’m trying to view the positive part of spending time with my grandson – a chance to bond … a chance to be with the one person who really can make me smile and feel warm and fuzzy all over when he laughs.

I really don’t know quite what to think.  My gut reaction is one of total disbelief.  I would never do what my daughter and son-in-law are proposing.  The idea is alien to me.  My husband, he thinks it’s perfectly normal and okay.  We have reached an impasse.

Now, I’m talking myself in circles, so I will stop blogging about it and return to everyday life.  I know this will be on my mind quite a bit, from now up until the time we have to look after baby… damn that’s an awfully long time.  I hope that my husband and I can come to some agreement on what I see as the foolishness of such a trip…. probably not.

Blah!  Some days it just feels like … and I’m being selfish and narrow minded here… that the weight of the world has come to rest squarely on my shoulders, and within my own little circle of what I call family, I’m the only one who looks at it and sees it for what it is.

Blah!

Bye for now

Happiness Is…

Going for a walk and as your pants are falling down, you grin, realizing that it’s because you’ve lost 25 pounds and 3 inches in your waist!