Time to Get it Together

After a morning text chat with a friend...you know who you are, thanks!...I've had an epiphany about my anxiety.

I've felt "weird" about the spa for several months.  (And I can't believe it's been MONTHS already.)  But I get very nervous and anxious and panicky whenever it's time to go there.  I feel like a child who just wants to shut her eyes until it's over with, because if I can't see it, it's not happening.

The spa is where I got The Phone Call.  The You-Have-Cancer phone call.  I LOVED that place before that phone call.  I would sit in there for hours doing absolutely NOTHING.  Now I feel afraid to be there.  I love my clients and miss them dearly.  And when I think back to all the work that I put into the spa, I feel terrible for neglecting it.

It's time to get it together.  It's time to make that place mine again.  It's time to get back to loving my safe place.  It's not the spa's fault I happened to be there when the call came in.  So now I've got to get back in there and make more good memories to overshadow the one crappy one.  I will not let my little slice of Heaven on Earth be ruined by one ringy dingy.

I'm thankful for everyone who's been patient with me and my sickies.  Hope to see you all soon!

<3 H

Cherry Coke Lake

As I sat in the waiting area of my new oncologist's office I watched hairless, one breasted, sickly looking women pass by me.  There were others around us, but this group is who I noticed.  Of course I felt the compassion one is supposed to feel when one sees living, breathing proof that the world is a cruel place.  I felt sad and scared for them.  I felt pity, as much as I tried not to.  I felt like hugging each and every one of them.  I didn't, instead I said a quick prayer for each of them as they passed me.  My prayers weren't for a cure.  Instead I prayed for each of them to find the inner strength to feel completely at peace with wherever they are in their cancer journeys.

(I also prayed for that wretched Taylor Swift song to end, it seemed so loud and endless...holy cow, purely selfish prayer, I know.)

I'm what I like to call a survivalist.  Not in the sense that you all know the word; living off the land and armed to the hilt.  Unless Fudge Rounds grow on a bush and there's a Cherry Coke Lake, I'm screwed.  And the only artillery I have is my gift of completely inappropriate humor and the ability to drop it like a bomb at the worst possible moment.  But mentally and emotionally, I've always been able to pull myself together and move forward in spite of any barriers I've faced.  Sometimes it takes longer and sometimes I get pretty low mentally before I can get back up, but I can make it happen.

Cancer is going to be different.  I can tell.  My body is going to overcome this bastard of a disease, but my emotions have taken a beating I'm not sure they can come back from. I've experienced anxiety before, nothing like this.  I know most of you have seen "The Shoes"...those started out as a funny cancer joke since I pulled my Cancer Card to justify buying them.  But now they've become my courage to leave the house, much like a preschooler might wear a cape to make him feel strong when he's scared.  I've regressed to the point of a cape for my feet.  Intellectually, I know I'm the one who assigned this significance to them.  Emotionally, I've realized it was necessary.  That scares me.  I'm afraid of being afraid.

While chatting with a friend today, who's been through exactly what I'm going through right now, this statement struck a nerve, "I'll tell you what, cancer is bullshit.  Even when it's gone, you never feel safe.  Every headache, pain or pinch, you wonder if it's cancer.  Cancer is emotional and mental rape."   (I won't say who, because her story isn't mine to share, but feel free to take credit for the quote, You-Know-Who.)  This is exactly how I feel.  I know there will come a day when all of this isn't so fresh and isn't in the forefront of my mind.  And I will be (and am currently) grateful that I'm physically better than I started.  And I'm grateful for all of the support I'm receiving from so many.  And I don't expect anyone to have any answers or to wave a magic wand to make my Feels Bads all better.  And there's absolutely nothing that any one of you has said or could say that is the "the wrong thing to say".  It feeds my soul to hear from all of you, cards, dinners, prayers, laughs, shared expletives...I love it all.  

Please don't feel bad for me.  I haven't suddenly become fragile.  I'm still me, hold the thyroid and add extra neurosis on the side!   I think I'm only telling this part of my story because the more I read and more people I meet with cancer, this is their story too.  It's cruel and unusual punishment.  We must find a way to learn from it.  We just have to...

<3 H

Really??

So are you all tired of hearing about this stuff yet?  I think I'm mostly writing this stuff for me to reflect on later, but I have been answering the same questions a lot, so I'll try to share it here.  (Not that I mind the communication with everyone!!!)  I hope I'm not driving anyone nuts, well more nuts that I usually do!

I had the drain tube removed today, which is good.  I got put on two weeks of bed rest, which is bad.  I have numbness in both arms.  My hands are tingly.  This really hinders my plans to go back to work, in more ways than one!  As part of my job, I should really be able to feel my hands, so let's pray this is just a temporary thing.  And...TWO WEEKS?!?!?!  For the love of peanut butter, that's a long time.

Taken Over

Some of you have already read this because I've been sharing it privately a bit over the last day or so...but I'm so overwhelmed with it, it's just bubbling over.

So many changes have happened in my life in the last couple years.  Some good.  Some bad.  I've had some difficult relationship issues with friends and family.  Some have stayed, some have left...and some have just taken up residence in my heart, others are closer to me than ever before.  I've come full circle with a career choice that I love (and thankfully a forgiving boss ;) ) and should the need arise, I can be completely self sustaining.

And now this cancer business.  I was angry for a bit, then sad, then scared...all the normal things you'd expect.  But now I've been taken over by gratitude.  I'm grateful that I've allowed myself to let go of so much of my mistrust of the world.  I don't feel constantly cynical of all things mushy.  I'm thankful that I've allowed myself to let out all the kindness that I usually feel on the inside.  This has allowed all the other things to fall into place.  I believe all the changes over the last couple years have happened for a reason.  I believe it's been a gift to me so that I might be able to manage the things happening to my family right now.  All the tumultuous garbage and things I thought I couldn't handle made me tough enough to handle the worst possible thing I could ever imagine facing.

I just believe now.  I just have faith now.  I believe, once again, that I'm going through what I'm supposed to be going through.  I don't believe I deserve the bad, but I do believe I deserve the gifts I've been given.  My self-made family, my dream of my own business, my loving husband and children, and the rest of my support system.  I deserve those things.  And because I'm thankful for them, I know they're here to stay.

There are some other fairly scary issues happening right now.  They're not my details to share, but please know that my family would appreciate and accept any and all good thoughts and prayers and magic and whatever it is you're into to get us through the next few months.

Much Love,
~H

What You Can't See

Almost every single person I know has commented about me being the strongest person he/she knows.

I *AM* a pretty tough cookie.  But there are things happening to me that no one is seeing.  I'm suddenly afraid.  Scared of the world around me.  Scared of pity.  Scared of being alone.  Scared of being sick.  Scared of being scared. When it comes time to leave the house for any reason now, I shake uncontrollably from the anxiety.  I want to be home.  ALL. THE. TIME. It's safe here.  I can keep people out or let people in.  I like it here.

But I'll continue to make myself leave the house and surround myself with my friends and people who love me because I'm no quitter.  And I've seen what pure seclusion can do to me.

I have noticed that I pay more attention to people around me now.  I wonder who has cancer or anxiety or who just lost their mother or is fighting to save a relationship...but has forced themselves to continue on with the mundane tasks of plain ol' life that we all complain about.  We all see and have relationships, no matter how fleeting, with the people around us.

I'm reminded, and now I'm reminding you:

Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle. ~Plato, Greek author and philosopher in Athens (427 BC-347 BC)

I Thought it was Gas

After talking to a friend this morning, who has a friend whose mother passed away from thyroid cancer, it occurred to me that if I had not gone to the emergency room earlier this month, I wouldn't know I have cancer.  It would still be growing and possibly spreading like it belonged there.

I've been diagnosed with depression and anxiety, so anytime I go to the doctor, many of my symptoms are passed off as psychosomatic.  September 4, 2012 was no different.  I had chest pains, bad chest pains and a lot of pressure behind my sternum.  Of course I Googled, but that can be scarier than just going to the doctor.  So I called my family doctor and spoke with the nurse.  She recommended that I go to the ER, but wanted to consult with the doc. She came back on the line and said the doc just wanted me to to come into urgent care because it was most likely my anxiety.  Of course.

I showered and hopped in the car to head to the urgent care.  But something in my gut told me to go straight to the ER.  I felt kind of stupid because it was probably just anxiety and a little gas.  (seriously, I didn't tell anyone because I thought I had to burp.) But it hurt!  When I get to the ER, they stick me straight in a trauma room for chest pain.  I heard people come and go all day on the other side of my curtains.  I was given everything they pass out for heart attack symptoms and they began running a full gamut of tests centered around my "cardiac health".  After nine hours in the ER, it was decided that I would stay because my heart rate wouldn't stay up and the pain was still there.  

During the course of my 3 day stay at Hotel Mercy Hospital, when they couldn't find anything wrong with my heart but the pain and weird heart rates and blood pressures persisted, they ran more tests.  THANK GOD they did.  THANK GOD I listened to my body.  

1780, One thousand seven hundred eighty, people are estimated to die from thyroid cancer this year.  That doesn't seem like much when compared to other cancers.  And my chance of survival is astronomical compared to other cancers.

But when my kids compare their mom to that number, it's freaky because they only have one mom, my husband only has one wife, and my mom only has one kid.  I have things left to do, so I'm not going anywhere anytime soon...but things would be different if I'd listened to my first call to my doctor.

And when you receive paperwork in the mail that actually has the words "Diagnosis: Thyroid Cancer" hand written under your name...you start to wish that you'd get paper cuts on your eye balls, because it feel much better in that moment.

All I Wanted Was a Sweet Neck Scar!

As most of you know, I had surgery last week to remove the left lobe of my thyroid.  I got the call today that I never wanted to answer and I'm making a blog about what I never thought I would.  But I feel like I need to purge this from my insides so that I can move on.

Cancer.  Like real cancer.  In me.  Gross.  Just effin gross.

I don't recall very many details of the phone call from the surgeon, but I knew as soon as I heard HIS voice and not a nurse's it was bad news.  I told him I didn't want to talk to him.  He told me..."something, something, something, 3 cancerous tumors in the piece we've taken out, something, something, the rest MUST come out in the next few weeks, something, something, good prognosis, something, call Rhonda to schedule your next surgery and we'll go from there."

No seriously, that's all I remember.  You can ask the same questions 50 more times, but I really don't know anything else.  And frankly, I'm pissed off and tired of crying about it.  So this will have to serve as the details until I learn more.

My next surgery is Wednesday, October 3rd.

But for now, please, please, please pray for my husband and my kids.  Not for me, for them.  I just want them to be okay through all of this, no matter what the outcome is going to be.

<3

You.

It used to cripple me when you didn't show up for things that were important to me.  Now I just laugh, because I saw it coming.  My success is happening despite your lack of presence.

I used to blame myself;  If I was different, if I did more to fit in, if I was better at sucking up, if I was better at being needy...but now I realize that's not my responsibility.  I don't owe you any of those things.  Your role in my life dictates the complete opposite.  YOU'RE the failure at life, not me.

I enjoy being me.  I accept me.  I will continue to grow.  And if that never has anything to do with you, I'm okay with that.

Are you?

Letting go.....(just transferring some stuff)

I'm not writing this to shame or embarrass anyone in my family, although I'm sure it will.  But I will not apologize for that.  I've carried enough shame and guilt and ugliness inside me to last 10 lifetimes.  No one apologizes to me.  Don't mistake this for bitterness, rather it's just fact.

I'm not writing this to ask for any sort of pity, that truly is the last thing I desire.  I actually hate when I tell my story and get "the looks," as if people's eyes speak to me saying, "oh, you poor thing."  There's nothing really poor or downtrodden about me.  Matter of fact, I'm one of the toughest people I know.  I can pull myself out of ANYTHING and walk tall.  Sure, I have moments of insecurity and unsuredness, but who doesn't?  I've spent the last 10 years learning about myself and human behavior.  I can finally say I think I understand what behaviors I have that are normal for the society we live in and what behaviors I carry because of my past.

I'm not writing this to shock and awe anyone.  This situation doesn't call for that.  My real goal here is to shed some light on the reality that is sexual abuse.  I want people to realize that it can happen to anyone, anytime, anywhere....and sadly, with anyone. I won't name names, but I will tell you that the familial closeness of the people who hurt me would turn most of your worlds upside down.  But that is biggest reality, people you least suspect on the outside are the biggest predators.  I will call to each of you to please pay attention.  Don't ignore your gut.  And don't let shame, guilt or fear rule who you keep your eye on.  

I'll avoid graphic details of the abuse, but the worst of the things you've heard about sexual abuse, I'm likely to have experienced.  I had a total of 5 offenders.  I can remember abuse as far back as 4(ish) years of age.  And the last experience I had with being violated, I was 16 years old.  I knew every single one of the people who hurt me.  They were close to my whole family.  I trusted them.  I actually cared about them....all of them.  They were all older than me and had a responsibility to protect me and lead me.  They failed.  They showed me an ugly world full of scary people who would never do anything but fail me.

I've relived the fear, the terror, the revulsion, the horror, the humilation, the worthlessness and the helplessness over and over and over, in every aspect of my life.  I've lived without feeling control over my body or my mind for as long as I can remember.  I've hated my body my whole life. It betrayed me.  I hated my mind because of the feelings, the constant internal battles over good and evil.  Somehow, in my young mind, I was always the evil one.  My own mind convinced me of that, and my perpetrators reinforced it.  As I've grown, I've learned that there was nothing wrong with me though.  However, there was very much something wrong with the people who hurt me, the people who knew and failed to protect me, and the people who blamed me for my bad behavior.  Of course I acted bad.  Of course I acted angry.  Of course I acted out.  I felt bad, I was angry, and I needed the release.  I needed the attention, I just didn't know how to get it...not the right way anyway.  I didn't know the words to say what was happening to me, and even after I learned the words, I felt so much guilt using them.  I was unsure in my own mind if I was making this stuff up, I was unsure if I'd be believed, I was unsure it would change anything.....but most of all I was positive I'd be seen as more of a troublemaker than I already was, so silence won.  I don't know if I'll ever really be able to put the effects of all of this into words that will properly express the magnitude of the grief and anger that I've lived with because of this.  The abuse has marked my life beyond the incidents.  Mostly it took away my self confidence and my belief that I could be a good person.  I've had several failed friendships, fantisized relentlessly about ending my life to end the chaos inside, and most definitely I've distrusted ANYONE who supposedly cared about me.  I've spent years in fear, years of being unable to speak my true feelings, and years of trying to pretend the most impactful events of my existence didn't happen because they're socially unacceptable to talk about.  I've had plenty of years of self-hating.  I've resented the years of paying the price for others' wrongness.  I'm done paying.  I AM a good person.  I AM somebody.  I didn't do this to myself. I didn't make my life hard.  However, I have survived all the difficulty others have put in my way.  I am a fighter, and I'll continue to fight until the day I die to have some kind of normalcy for myself, for my husband, for my children.

I have to believe that what I went through wasn't for nothing.  Maybe that's just for survival, or maybe there is a higher power up there making life lessons out of everything.  All I know is that if I keep the secrets, I'm perpetuating the ugly cycle of abuse.  I'm sure some of you will be thinking, why on earth is she plastering this on fb??  The answer is....I have 230 friends on facebook.  Statiscally speaking, that means about 80 of you have been sexually abused at some point in your childhood.  That's why. That's why I'll share my private business all over facebook.  I'm not ashamed anymore.  And I don't want my friends to be either.

I Never Finish Anything

....until NOW.

I haven't written in a while because I've been working (and now driving) my bum off to complete massage therapy school.  I'm almost to the bottom of the hill I climbed, with just a few hours and services left to finish up.  I've now passed my finals and am awaiting word from The State offering me dates to take my board examination.

It was iffy for a while if I was even going to be able to finish.  I was in a very unhealthy environment daily at La' James in Johnston.  Too many power struggles between instructors, administrators, and students.  We weren't learning (or being taught) at the rate we should have been.  Most times, this was because we were being yanked out of our class time to do "work" for the school.  The majority of what I learned at that location, I learned on my own.  That's NOT what I signed up or PAID for!  I was starting to lose my desire to even perform massage. There was so much I didn't understand and so many techniques that I was missing out on because I was stuck in appointments all day, every day.  I was forced to perform services that I'd never even seen, let alone been taught how to do them.  (And when I say forced....I mean, do the service or go home.  I'm charged by the hour to be there, if you're not clocked in, you're still racking up hours to pay for.)

So after some serious soul searching, some crying and complaining, a fellow classmate and I decided that it would be best to transfer locations and see if we couldn't catch up and maybe get some of our passion back.   This was a HUGE leap, because the new location is 125 miles, one way, from my home.  I attend school 4 days a week, gas is roughly $3.60-$4.00 a gallon.....you do the math.  But I had to get out of there.

BEST.  CHOICE.  EVER.  I now look forward to going to school again.  I've learned more (from an instructor) and the last 2 weeks than I did the last 2 months I attended the Johnston location.  I am now able to have the classroom time I wasn't afforded before.  Instead of 8 instructors, I've had ONE and I'm confident she's not going anywhere.  I look forward to massaging again.

I've said it before, and I'll continue to say for the rest of my life.....I'll NEVER regret listening to my gut.  It's my very best friend.

Peace, Love, and Massage

~H

We all have that emotion that we could live without, the one that gets to us more than the rest, the one we struggle with.....mine is being powerless or feeling trapped.  I just don't handle it well at all.  My fight/flight goes into overdrive and I tend to overreact. As I've "matured" (he he he) I've learned this about myself.

Facing the Fat Monster

If you jiggle and you know it....clap your hands!  *Clap, Clap*

Ok, so I have more than a jiggle.  And I'm finally facing it.  I've used my fat as a shield long enough.  I don't want to make fat jokes about myself before others do anymore.  I'm tired of just accepting that THIS is how my body was meant to be.  I refuse to blame my children anymore for being overweight.  I'm my own worst enemy, so now it's time to be my own best friend.

It's going to hurt.  I'm going to whine.  But I'll tell myself the same thing I tell my kids, "I don't care how much you whine, as long as you finish the job."  Seems to work for them, logically it'll work for me.

Last night was difficult, walking into a room of already thin people thinking, "Why the hell are THEY here?!"  But after my super sobfest, I realized two things....A) It's none of my business why they're here, and B) I'm not competing against them.  I'm competing against myself.  To do better.  To be better.  For me.  Just me.

I'll never be in a bikini (stretch marks, ew!!), but I CAN/WILL shrink, tone, get fit.  Even if this means I only fit into the clothes I already own, I'm ok with that.  As long as I eat better and have more energy, I'll have succeeded.

So I'll apologize in advance for all the posts I'm sure you'll be bombarded with in the coming weeks.  Thanks for reading and thanks for your patience and support!

I love you all!

Long Time, No Blog

Since my last blog:

• One brother called once to show his "concern," but hasn't called since.  (Pffft, I knew it.)
• The other brother deleted me from facebook. (Truth hurt a bit?)
• My mother is steadily improving!!
• A family member was picked up for a mobile meth lab.  (And everyone thought I'd be bad one...)
• I've progressed to 60% finished at school.
• I've made a trip to Chicago!
• My energy for school and a new future was re-energized in The Windy City!
• And now for the BIG announcement......

I start COSMETOLOGY SCHOOL June 27th!!

Ok, back to studying muscles.

Big Loves!

~H

Coexist

A week ago tomorrow I got another tattoo.  I've lost count now, but I don't see the tattoos stopping anytime soon......no matter how many times my parents give me "the look."

My latest tattoo......

I chose this particular marking and it's location on my body very strategically.  It's a chest piece (and it's tie dye....how kickass is that?? Thanks Rick Gray !!)  I wanted it to be close to my heart because I truly believe with everything in me that there IS a way for EVERYONE on this earth to live in harmony.  It's a matter of choice.  No one says we all have to be friends.  No one says we all have to back down from our own beliefs.  But nothing is stopping us from tranquil coexistence except our own egocentric ways.

I have many friends with whom my beliefs about life, politics, religion, etc. are polar opposite.  I make a conscious effort to understand WHY they believe the way they do and why we're so different, yet I can love them regardless.  This isn't to say that I don't get a little irritated.  I LOVE just as much as anyone to jump on my Peace-Love-Harmony-we're-all-the-same-love-your-neighbor-what's-wrong-with-your-thinking soapbox.  But at the end of the day, if I have it, I'll give it, no matter who you are or what side of the fence you fall on.  I don't care what color you are, I don't care who you love, and I don't care if you're godless or God fearing or who that god might be......

It can happen.  We can make it happen. I choose to live this way, and I've chosen to raise my kids this way.  They're good little people who will do for you because it's the right thing to do.  

<3 your hippy friend,

H

Cheesy Pointless Tearfilled Blog

It's closing in on my daughter's 16th birthday.  I'm sure this won't be my only post about her in the coming weeks.  As most of you know, her big "soiree" is coming up.....so I have plenty of reminders that my baby isn't a baby anymore.

And the tears start.....

I just caught a glimpse of my beautiful daughter as she was walking into the next room.  She's built like a woman now.  I hadn't noticed it before, scary.  But as much as I'm concerned about how her body has changed, I'm MORE concerned with how her mind is changing.  Have I done the things I'm supposed to do to prepare her for life "on the outside?"  I'm not great at this little adventure myself, so how the hell am I supposed to lead anyone else through the turmoil and trials and tribulations?!?!?

I'm pretty frank with my kids about what I've gone through in life and the challenges I have created for myself.  I'm honest when I tell them that every choice we make will have consequences...good or bad.  They see me frustrated and angry at times.  My deepest hope is that they also see me digging my way out of my struggles and fighting with everything I have IN me to BE me.  I might be a quitter of many things, but I couldn't have quit any of those things if I hadn't started them in the first place.

I pray that my children will never be backed into a corner and made to feel like their insides don't match their outsides.  I hope they forge ahead and shove past anyone and anything that tries to hold them back from doing what will make them FEEL successful.  I want them to make the world fit them, not the other way around.

All this because Savannah asked me what she should make for dinner.....