Feeling Guilty

I've alluded to a lot of stuff on Facebook, but not come out with the story because my loved one and I share some common friends. Those friends know nothing about my blog, so I'm comfortable in writing about it here. If you're my friend on FB, then you must be so confused!

Sometime around the 3rd week of January, my loved one had a psychotic break. This has never happened to him before and I've never been around psychosis before, so all of this is very frightening and stressful.

I didn't understand the true depth of the dilusional thinking until my birthday (01/31). He was picked up by the sheriff's office and one of his neighbors had the whole thing on speakerphone for me to hear. What I heard will be forever seared into my brain, "Happy birthday Lori, I did this all for you." over and over again in a voice that I hardly recognized.

From that point to today (and probably ongoing for quite some time), my daily life has consisted of a series of calls from a manic and/or angry loved one (angry because I wouldn't do the things he'd asked me to do, like hire an attorney to get him out of the various psych holds), his angry neighbors who have my phone numbers (home and cell), and various hospitals who have my loved one in a 72 hour hold (if that long.) My daily life has also consisted of trying to take proactive measures in getting help for my loved one.

On top of everything else (I'll backfill as time goes on, but suffice it to say that I've suffered a series of losses in the last two years that I haven't dealt with properly), I've been running my business and trying not to let ALL OF IT ruin what I've built. I have people who work for me and count on me to provide an income.

I'm taking proactive measures in self-care because I've had many very fragile moments. I can't allow myself to go down the rabbit hole, though it feels that I've been circling that hole for a while. To be honest, I started circling that hole about two years ago but have forced myself to remain afloat. Right now, self care consists of weekly therapy (today is my second session), Valium (weeeeee!), and pushing back a little. Or a lot....

The people-pleasing days are over, my friends.

I hope.

Two weekends ago, I had a seizure. All of the symptoms from the 2007 head bonking incident are present and accounted for these days. I'm walking like a drunk, falling down and am having problems forming sentences. I'm not completely back to that point In time because as you can see, I CAN write and unless I'm in an acute stress (for example right after receiving a call), I can speak intelligently. I knew after that seizure that my body/brain was overload and I needed to do something immediately to take care of myself.

How many years have I been writing in my blog that I need to learn self-care and that I KNEW the lessons would be worse and worse until I finally "got" it? I think you're witnessing the brick wall tumbling down on my head and I have no choice but to care for myself.

I keep reminding myself that if I don't take care of myself then I will be taking down many people with me who don't deserve that. I see how one person's actions can cause a catastrophic chain of events. I don't want to be that person.

I realize catastrophic is a very dramatic word, but it's the right word in this case.

Yesterday, I received a call from a hospital in NYC. My loved one was there and it was immediately clear to them that he needed help. How he got there from where he lives is anyone's guess. For the first time in six(?) weeks, I feel a teeny-tiny bit hopeful that this is where he'll get the help he needs. I've told the doctor that my loved one is extremely smart (it's in the genes!) and told her everything he'd said and done up to that point. I wanted her to have full disclosure in case he tried to act "sane". Apparently he can appear stable enough when he needs to, in order to get out of a hold.

I don't want my loved one in that scary place all by himself, so along with the disclosure comes a lot of guilt. I'm not going to share the delusions here, even though I know that this is a safe place to post, out of respect for my loved one. If I thought that he was just a happy nut, I wouldn't be so passionate about getting him treatment. Unfortunately, the situation is well beyond "oh, that's just my nutty relative."

So, my immediate job in therapy is to find a way to let go of the guilt and responsibility. Then I'll work out the other stuff.

Wow, it feels good to write honestly again.

Life lesson #4,529: There is not enough Lori to go around, no matter how far Lori tries to stretch herself. I'm happy to report a very speedy lesson. Ummm.. well.... speedy in the grand scheme of things.

My business has been wildly successful; more successful than I'd even dreamed. That's saying a lot because I'm a big dreamer.

I've known early on that my business was successful due to the unique skill set I had to offer. I can say with full confidence that I'm the only person in the U.S. with my skill set, and I'm selling my skill set when I market to new clients so farming out the work is not an option. Son#1 is coming along nicely in his training, but he's still 20 years behind me in experience so there's some catchin' up to do. I have complete faith that he'll be able to do anything that I can do eventually, but for now- the bulk relies square on my shoulders.

I was asked by "Big Fish" to up my hours from 30/week (starting January) to 40/week (starting March). I've been at 20/week since 2009. I thought that would be an awesome way to speed up to retirement. What I found was that it was a quick way to make lots of money, but in the end took a toll on my liver condition and took me away from my original goal to build my business to have a variety of customers. I was unable to offer the same customer service that my other customers were used to and so I've asked Big Fish to cut back my hours to 24. That's not as drastic as it may appear. At 24 hours I'm still making WAY more than I was making as a full time employee at my previous employer, PLUS I have other clients. Oh, and my sanity. heh.

Here's a tip from yours truly: Money isn't EVERYTHING. Money does NOT buy happiness. I already knew that, but I thought that I was responsible to make as much money as was being sent my way. I'd made my intention known that I wanted a successful business, therefore I felt that turning business away was irresponsible. What I found was that I was not taking care of myself. It was a very quick and painful lesson. One that I'm going to pay attention to.

It was a bit of a rocky road to climb out of the hole I'd made for myself, but I'm getting there.

I've learned that my neurologist was right that since the head injury my brain does NOT work right when I'm under too much stress. I forget things and become very confused. I can't even write well enough for spell-check to figure out what word I'm trying to use. Even worse, I'd become so wrapped up in working that I forgot to order my head meds (from the brain injury in 2007) refill from the mail order pharmacy and had to go cold turkey for six days. Each day became exponentially worse than the previous with the bottom completely falling out over the weekend. It was quite ugly. I called my doctor on Monday and she said that this was extremely dangerous and I should have called for a temporary refill on the drugs until the mail order drugs came in. So, I got that last night and feel much better today. Still feel like my brain is bouncing around the inside of my skull, but at least I don't hear funny sounds when I move my eyes. (weird, right?)

Underlying all of this is the frustration with my inability to walk. All of this began two years ago in May. Can you believe it? Tomorrow I go get a shot in my tendon (does NOT sound at all fun.) Not sure what the shot is, but the surgeon said it's not cortisone. She said it was an anesthetic of some kind. I'm also getting a new MRI on my ankle to see what's going on. It's official that I can no longer walk more than 10 minutes without pain shooting up to a 7 or 8. The pain level doesn't go back down for a couple of days, so I'm doing a lot of sitting on my arse. You can imagine what that does to the waist line. It's not necessarily weight-bearing that's causing the pain (though I'm sure it exacerbates the issue), it's just the movement of the ankle. Even driving a car hurts because I have to move my ankle to work the gas pedal.

My follow-up appointment with the surgeon is on Monday. I'm ready to have my ankle fused back together at this point. Or just cut the damned thing off (I kid... sort of....) I can't even begin to express the frustration this has caused me. I'm basically house-bound because walking anywhere for any length of time hurts even if I'm wearing my boot. I can't go do anything fun, not even grocery shopping. Sure, I could ride around in one of those carts, but I'm soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo done with this. As the weather becomes nicer, I become more crabby about it.

So, I guess we can all agree that it's been a very rough couple of weeks and all of it was self-induced. My brother told me this weekend (thanks for talking me down, bro!) that I really need to stop feeling responsible for everything and everyone around me and he's right. I think it's left-overs from being a single parent. It's a real mind-trip when you're responsible for EVERYTHING (keeping a household, making enough money to support my children, paying the bills, etc. etc. etc. ) for two children for most of their lives (TOTALLY WORTH IT!) It's hard to let go of that mind-set. The boys are able to support themselves and The Hubs has been able to manage living for 42 years without my assistance. Nobody is going to die if I'm unable to be the end-all and be-all for everyone and everything in my life (well, except Einstein, of course. giggle)

Yup, I know that there are awful things going on around me (Japan! Cancer! Death!) and so I feel guilty for whining about this. I think that it's the layer upon layer of stuff that has happened since 2007 that often-times feels like a never-ending mountain I've had to climb. Every time something else happens I think, "seriously? aren't we done?" And then I start climbing the mountain again and will continue to do so- perhaps not with a smile on my face but I'll climb dagnabbit.

The first step is to understand which path is worth climbing and that's what I'm working on now. I'll let you know how that turns out.

I just canceled that job interview. I can't even begin to justify a daily five hour commute five days a week. Not in a zillion years. It would be one thing if it was on the train, as was my previous job, but this would be driving the entire way to and fro.

I hope that my email to her letting her know my reasons for canceling made sense and was professional. I told her that it was an extremely hard decision on my part because the job itself sounded amazing.

I ended the brief email with:

"Thank you so very much for the opportunity to interview with you, but I know how the job market is so I know that you must be horribly busy with interviews for this position. I don’t want to add to your burden.

If you have any future contracting possibilities for any of the pieces of this position, I’d be extremely interested in talking to you."

I then gave her a link to a sample of my work if she was interested.

I feel uneasy about this, because I know this job would pay very well and there would be lots of cool places to travel. Right now I'm working with potential, nothing permanent. I've said this before and I'll say it again, I have no problem playing Russian Roulette with my own future- but now I have to think about The Hubs (and lil' Einstein!). Of course the job wasn't in the bag, so maybe I'm feeling guilty over NOTHING!

Motto for today: Build it and they will come.

Can I hear an "Amen"?

Einstein still hasn't quite acquired a taste for sleeping in the pen at night, but every night there is less and less crying. Poor baby, I feel so bad because he sounds so sad but I know that this will pass, especially if I don't give in. We are trying to keep the alone time to a minimum, so The Hubs goes to bed about 8:30 and up at 5am and I go to bed at midnight and up about 8. So, he's only alone for 5 hours at a stretch. I keep the TV on to the weather channel because it has music and some talking- plus a little light.

He's mastered fetch and sit. His treat of choice is cheese. What a coinkidink- so is mine! No worries- I'm not giving him much.

The thing that I find the most funny is that he asks to be on the couch, which is OK. We'll teach him to ask, not just assume. He loves to lay between the two of us and if he gets tired of being petted or annoyed that we're talking, he'll want down and will go get into his crate. He's all about boundaries and lets me know if I'm giving him a bit too much loving.

He's doing SO great with the potty training, which pleases me to no end. It doesn't mean he gets free reign of the house though and he's never out of my or The Hubs's sight. One day I'll trust him but he's only 7 weeks old.

Last night I started feeling guilty about having a puppy. I know without a doubt that The Hubs didn't really want a puppy; he got it because it's been a rough year and he knew how happy it would make me. I told him that I never want him to think that my happiness is more important than his. I can't believe the things I get feeling guilty about, ya know? He said that me feeling bad takes all the fun out of it for him and defeats the whole purpose. He's right. As usual.

Here's more puppy cuteness:

Today is face-bonk, day three. The swelling changes from day to day, and now it's at a point where it takes effort to keep my mouth shut (those of you that know me in person can just shut it- I know I talk a lot). I'll take a picture later, after I comb my hair.

I'm learning some good lessons in this head injury go-round. I'm learning to not judge people by what you see. I frequent a message board and posted about what happened. These people don't know me very well, so they're reacting to what they see. I'm getting lots of comments about getting help for spousal abuse "when I'm ready to deal with this". I know it's coming from a good place, and I know that there's nothing I can tell them that will convince them that I am not an abused spouse. You know how that goes- the more you protest, the guiltier you look.

If *I* saw me on the streets, I'd probably think the same thing. This makes me want to not go anywhere until I'm completely healed, but who knows how long that's going to take. Unfortunately, I'm on pain meds, so I can't go anywhere by myself- so The Hubs has to deal with "the look" whenever we're out together. He's being SUCH a good sport about this. If I were him, I'd refuse to be seen with me because I've always been too wrapped up in what people think. He's always been the one to tell me that I shouldn't care so much what people think. He's been a true example of that these past few days.

Someone from the board mentioned that they were shocked that hospital personnel didn't question me alone about this, and/or social services hasn't been out to see me. I can only guess that people that work in the hospital have a good sense about peoples' relationships when they see them together. Who knows? Maybe they did question me. I have no recollection of the hospital visit, except for snapshots of a couple of things.

I remember moving from one gurney to another to have the CT scan, but nothing more. I remember getting one shot of pain meds in my butt, but apparently I had two. It's so weird to have so much time erased from my memory. I've never experienced that before.

The Hubs will be taking me to the facial surgeon today. I want him in the office with me when we talk to the doctor because I still get a little foggy, but I don't want the doctor to think he's with me to keep me from talking.

I guess on one hand, I'm glad that people look out for each other. But on the other hand, it's too easy to make assumptions. And of course, I feel guilty for putting The Hubs through all of this, because I'm the queen of guilty feelings. He's such a good man and doesn't deserve to be judged like this. This really shows his true character though. His concern is to support me, even if he is judged for something he didn't do.

Me? I'd wait in the car if I were him. That just shows how different we are. I could learn some lessons from him about holding my head high and not worrying about what other people think.

Speaking of worrying about what other people think.... y'all know how I hate to leave the house without makeup, right? Well, I've been debating wearing makeup on my good side just so I don't look 100% horrible. It would KILL me to put makeup on my bad side because I can barely touch my face without wanting to yelp. Is that ridiculous, or what? I've convinced myself to just let it go (well, except for my hair.)