It's all big stuff...

I've had a lot to think about, lately. The best way for me to break it down would be chronologically, I think.

First, as you may have been able to glean from my last post, I went out and got a touch blotto... for the first time in over a year. It took all of 4 drinks.

I had been invited to attend 'Girls' night out' by a couple of my co-workers and though I didn't want to go, I had already blown off several invites and thought it prudent to make an appearance, if nothing more. So, it was just us, the ladies. For the first time in over a year I was out, on my weekend, without Wolf. I had already decided I wasn't going to drink but my friend handed me her vodka/lime to sip and my thirst was on.

• Back-story: I have Irritable Bowel Syndrome. For the last year and a half of my drinking years I would get the nastiest gut pains starting about a half hour from ingesting the first sip of whatever I was imbibing. I took this as a sign that it was time for me to back off a little. It took the 1.5 years to confirm my suspicions... and to let go of my favourite vice.

I think the first thing I noticed was that my gut didn't hurt. That was definitely a pleasant surprise which, obviously, precipitated another drink. By the end of the night, I still had no pain. I did, however, have the dawning of an ugly realization. I am a self-righteous bitch. But only when I'm not looking.

Wolf has always been a drinker. He never had a problem with it. As long as I was binging, I didn't mind either. But there came a time when alcohol became an issue for me and at the point that I could no longer deny that, it began hurting me. Well, with me no longer drinking I was better able to judge his drinking. How very convenient. This very judgement was fed and nurtured within me until last Monday. Eww.

Being who I am, I analyzed this to it's smallest detail and, once home, told Wolf all about it. I apologized for my self indulgent behaviour to which I was treated to the most relieved, sweet smile from my love. It really was amazing. The whole thing was amazing. I mean, I don't have the urge to spend my weekends plastered, thank God, and my feelings have changed regarding Wolf's occasional night with the boys. I know there will likely still be work to do to prevent me from slipping back into my old habit, but I'm up for that.

Next, Wolf had his neurologist appointment. The good doctor confirmed epilepsy, probably caused by Wolf's massive head injury. The back of his skull, travelling just below 60 km/h (about 37 m/h), met a curb. The doctor said that within two weeks Wolf would be called in for a cerebral angiogram. Hopefully the test will reveal the scar tissue on his brain and that the removal of said tissue is possible. They will also look at his aneurysm to see about taking care of that, too. Cleansing breath...

The 'third' thing that I'm working on is a new life. I have always been an 'artist.' I've know what I can do with a pencil, given the time and patience, and that I would love to make it a living. I know that my potential has not really showed in the bits and pieces of art that I have put on display. For the past week or so, I've been working on a portrait of one of my co-workers. Did I say that already? Well, If so, sorry about the repetition. My point is, I've shown the incomplete drawing to several people and each of them has asked what I will charge for my service. I've never had a clue. How does one put a price on something like this? What if the price is too much, or too little. How would I correct that, after the fact, for others without being totally unfair?!

Well, I was told, based on the info I had to date (it's taken me about 6-8 hours so far, I'm about half done...) that a picture this size, with this amount of detail, I could/should be charging about $450. It throws me and I think, "Really?" I'm timid about the whole thing, looking at the possibilities and daring to wonder - no, to dream that it might be possible. Wow. Really?

I guess I'm daring to dream... Now, I just need to finish the thing and get it 'out there.'

And, finally, my most recent lesson came today. I have linked my despair directly and irrefutably to anxiety. I awoke with a headache and immediately thought about this being the last day of my weekend. My mind took me to work tomorrow morning, and I was standing behind my till. I shook it off pretty quickly but my chest was a bit tight and I was instantly antsy. I managed to 'forget' the whole thing is pretty short order but I did become quiet. Wolf kept asking me what was wrong, and nothing was wrong. I was just quiet. And not hungry. And withdrawn.

Kitten was trying to tell us about her dream and one of Wolf's favourite things to do is pester the hell out of people. Every few words that Kitten would get out, Wolf would ask a question or link her words to a quote... whatever. Well, I was trying to re-engage with my family when Kitten said, "and there were these mountains and a river was winding between them..." when I smiled at her and said, "A river runs through it, which is the name of a movie." Well, my timing was off because I guess that was her breaking point. She just looked at me, eyes widened like I was the biggest betrayer, ever. Then her lips pinched shut and she turned to her breakfast without a word. I said I was sorry, and Wolf poked a little more. Well, I was done. I screwed up (which, when I'm at my best is a hard pill to swallow. At my worst, I shouldn't be permitted the care of a goldfish, let alone a child!) and had to leave the room.

As we all know, kids are far more resilient that we often give them credit for. Within minutes, she was knocking on my door, asking if she could finish the telling of her dream. I said yes and all was well. Except me. I crashed. Hard.

I realized that I wasn't trying to engage with my family for my sake. I know that when the ocean is turbulent, I need to just ride the wave. The less I fight, the quicker I reach solid ground. I know my limitations when I'm in that place. I know damned well that to deny my feeling is dangerous. And now I know that to deny my feelings, even when I think I'm helping others, is to hurt them as well as myself.

Biggies, all. Whoo-ee. And, as usual, the universe throws stuff at me when it's most pertinent. This morning, just before the emotional shit hit the fan, I saw this picture:




Thank you...

I'm so stoned...

I was sent home from work, yesterday. It would seem that my usefulness was deemed non-existent when compared directly to my obvious discomfort. This story begins this past Friday...

*cue flashback sequence*

I was closing the paint department on my own. The last few hours of the day had been so slow with nary a customer in sight. Deciding to make myself useful, I began down-stocking some stain. Most of this down-stocking was largely unnecessary as our staining season is over but we have no overstock of the paint that people actually want right now and I was bored. I began with a gusto, moving gallons of the stuff from the enclosed storage bay above the sparsely stocked shelves. You might think gallons of paint would be more challenging to move than quarts. You might, but in this case you'd be very, very wrong.

I learned that
(a) the perfect, compact quarts of stain were kept neatly organized in boxes of six
(b) I'm short, even when on a kick-ass ladder;
(c) standing tip-toe, I still sometimes have to work above my head and
(d) these boxes are bloody heavy!

And then my back said, "um, stop. kthxbye." By the end of my quest to cure boredom, I was sore and tired and had only managed to down-stock about 8 quarts.

Oh, I also learned
(e) sleep has the magical ability to make a tweaked back hurt like hell!!!

Saturday, shortly after beginning my shift I was talking to a couple of the women in or near my department about my back tenderness. They talked me into filing with first-aid which I did before returning to the floor. I went home at lunch to dope myself up on Tylenol and Advil so I could finish out my shift in an upright position. That night I loaded up on Robaxacet and slept like a rock.

Sunday was great. I felt no pain but I was aware of the centre of my back. It was distinctly there, you know? Everything was fine until I bent to pick up a receipt. I don't know if I moved too fast or what but by the end of my day I was getting waves of pain that were making it hard to breathe. To make matters worse, I'd taken my last two Robaxacet the night before.

Monday morning I had to use my both hands to get out of bed. I spent the morning gimping around like Gollum and waiting for the next round of pain pills to kick in. They still hadn't by the time I got to work. Hence the sending home.

I went to a clinic early this afternoon and was given a prescription for Flexeril which I can't afford to get filled, and instruction to stick with light duty at work for ten days. No ladders, no lifting. But standing all freaking day is o-tay, which is good because that is my job description.

"Oh, and what do you do for a living?"

I stand...


Good news? Wolf's on meds which have stopped his seizures and passing out. They leave him dead-dog tired but on his feet which is good because he can now take care of me for a couple of days.

:D

What I want and why I (tell myself) I can't have it, followed by the reason my reason is stupid...

1. I want a more muscular physique.
a) I don't have time.
b) I wake every morning a couple of hours before my family so I can do my computer stuff without neglecting anyone.

2. I want to get a handle on my depression.
a) It is a mental disorder that I have no control over.
b) Spending hours online when I could be living makes me blue.

3. I want to be a better mom and wife.
a) I'm so tired when I get home, all I want to do is sit for a while.
b) Sitting 'for a while' doesn't constitute hours on facebook, getting annoyed when I'm interrupted. There's no reason I can't sit for a while on the couch with my daughter and husband while we talk about our discoveries of the day.

4. I want to go back to school, take a few courses.
a) I don't want to graduate from the institution with a huge debt hanging over my head.
b) Yeah, and living from paycheque to paycheque is a barrel of monkeys. Going into debt over the electric bill, with no hope of improvement is so much better than a student loan (and the potential job that will help pay it off).



Okay, I'm kind of stuck there. My shoulder hurts and I want to get ready for my day.
(can you believe it's been almost a month?!!)

Wishing you, yes you, a fantabulous day!

Pee-ess: I don't think I made a note yesterday or the day before so I will now. Wolf passed out twice on Thursday and once yesterday. it would seem to me that things are continuing to escalate. What else are you "almost positive" about, Doctor God?!

My mother gave me some stuff to think about. I'm thinking about it.


My place of employment has a no-cell-phone policy. Not only do I blatantly disregard this policy, I told my team-lead, floor manager and store manager that the policy didn't apply to me. With Wolf's health the way it is and he being a house-husband and home-schooler to our kidlet, I want Kitten to have a easy way to reach me in case of emergency. I didn't want her to have to call work and have me paged to 'line 101,' so to speak. That's too much work for a panicked almost-eleven-year-old. Generally, the only incoming calls I get are from home so my phone has become 'for emergencies only!'

I didn't realize that my phone was off until almost half way through my shift today. When I saw the blank screen, I started to shake. I turned it on, all the while wondering if there was going to be a voice-mail waiting. I envisioned all the possibilities through the eyes of terror. Being the good employee that I am, I couldn't call home until my lunch break. And everything was fine.

Wolf's doctor said he's 'almost positive' it isn't Wolf's brain that's the issue. Almost positive. I told Wolf I wanted that in writing so I could sue his ass back to the stone age in the event that his confidence is once again misplaced.

And now I'm going to get to the business at hand. I'm home for the weekend and I've a family that I've missed terribly this week.

Something's gotta give...

I overslept again. I only lost a half hour which is a good thing, and my shift didn't start until 9 am. A week of sleeplessness is beginning to take its toll and if I don't sleep tonight, I fear that I'll be totally useless tomorrow. I've a 6:30 am start time and the only happiness I can glean from this resides in the fact that tomorrow is my Friday. One more day, that's all. One more day and that day ends at 3 pm.

We need the break, all of us. Wolf hasn't had a decent night's sleep since last Sunday and his health is declining rapidly. I'm trying to avoid spending too much energy in fear but it's turning out to be harder than I can manage, right now. I am fearful by nature - anxiousness bordering on paranoid - and lack of sleep makes everything worse.

*Sigh*

I'm feeling a little bit tangled and unable to concentrate. My mother just left a message on my voice mail. I should probably return the call. It's been close to a month since we last spoke and that's not really okay.

Hopefully tomorrow will prove to be a touch easier...