The Truth Hurts

..stings really.

My best friend shared something with me last night. I know she's my best friend, because she was honest, even though she knew it would probably hurt my feelings. And real love, whether it's romantical love or family love or friendly love, is always honest. Even though it hurts sometimes.

My best friend has a daughter, whom..I love almost nearly as much as I love my bet friend. Almost nearly as much as I love anyone, for that matter! When you feel sick the majority of the time, to tend to love the things (the people) that make you feel good, really hard. And not many things make my insides smile the way that little girl does. Even when she's a grumpy jerk who won't kiss me goodnight and breaks my new sunglasses, lol.

Well! I've been home alone (during the day, when my boyfriend's working) for the last week, and will be for the next week too, because my dad's in Florida with Grama and Grampa! And sometimes I like home alone. Sometimes that quiet is nice, and not being bothered while I'm siting in bed all Koenig watching the Glee kids get wasted! But sometimes, obviously, it's just lonely. And who better to kill the lonely time with, then a smirky little 2 year old?!

For a little while, moma (my best friend..try to keep up, people) kind of ignored my offers to watch her, while everyone was at work. I started to assume that it was because babes don't often take naps when they're having so much fun with their Auntie George..and then I thought that maybe my best friend was just mad because I seemed more eager to hang out with her daughter then her (not true, because 2 year olds would be no fun on stripper poles in night clubs!). But last night, my best friend was brave, and honest..and broke my heart.

She said she didn't know how to tell me, because she was worried it would sound wrong, but she didn't feel comfortable leaving her daughter alone with me. Not because I'm irresponsible, not because I'm not well educated in the area of childcare, and not because I don't love her well enough. It's because she'd worry about her daughter being left scared, or stuck in a bathroom with me, if I happened to have a panic attack all of a sudden.

I hate it, but that doesn't mean that it doesn't make sense. It's true. And it doesn't matter that it's been quite a while actually (knock on wood!), since I've had a bathroom-floor attack. I mean, what could I do? It's fine if dad happens to be home working in his office, because he'd live to play while I settle myself out on the toilet! It's fine if my boyfriend is here, or my siblings, because then someone could keep her happy while I'm freaking out. As calming as it may be for ME, a 3X2 bathroom floor is no place for a little lady to be stuck. (Believe me, I know)

I was angry when I first read my best friend's message. Then sad. Then embarrassed. Then depressed. Then back to angry. But in the end, I honestly can only feel appreciative, that she told me the truth. I KNOW that I have friends who lie to me about certain things, or exclude me from certain things, and don't have the guts to admit that it's because my panic disorder has often left me unreliable. I may be sick, but I'm still an adult, I can still handle the truth! My version of handling it may include involuntary sobbing and certain prescription drugs..but give me enough credit, and tell me the truth.

Having said that, it's still a really shitty feeling though, realizing that this situation, this illness has cost me something important yet again. It's lost me jobs, my independence, my pride on many occasions. I've worried about it pushing away the live of my life, but I never even considered that it would rob memory my alone time with my own goddaughter. I wish that a threat like that could magically cure me. I wish I could will myself all better, in light of losing so many potential, gorgeous memories.

But that's not how it works. And that's life. And sometimes it just sucks balls.

There's a Greys episode where a football player opts for a very risky surgery to fix his random seizures, because his wife is too scared to leave him alone with their new son, just in case. That would suck balls. But I could really go for a risky surgery, right about now.

Just Because Mine Isn't, Doesn't Mean We Can't Make Other Tummies Happy!

You've all seen the commercial. I know you have! The photographer is setting children up for a class picture, and as he tells kids to step forward or sit up straight, we see them wearing Tshirts reading 'IM HUNGRY'. The tag line is that, if hungry children were that obvious, it would be a lot harder for us to ignore.

By now you should know, I'm all about the tummy. Mine sucks ass, but that doesn't mean I'm any less moved to do what I can to make sure other's tummies aren't suffering too!

Did you know that up to 1 in 5 children are currently going hungry? Whatever you ate for dinner, and how good you felt afterward.. they didn't. Whatever you're looking forward to waking up and making for breakfast (mine is Rice Krispies with granola and blue berrie, strawberries, and raisins! And lots of milk!), to get you through your long morning.. they won't be.

It's been years that I, and many specialists, haven't been able to tame my tummy woes, but comforting the hungry tummies of our Ontario children is SO simple! Whenever you get to the register at your favorite grocery store (about to fill your own fridges!) just let the teller know you'd like to add $2 to your bill, and they'll scan the special Toonies for Tummies code. TA-DA! Or you can stop in and simply hand over a toonie! You can also go to tooniesfortummies.com if you'd like to make a more substantial donation.

It's easy! And if you think of me when you make your own contribution..I think all that positive TUMMY energy out there, might help make mine smile too!

In addition to over 200 Independent Stores across Ontario, the following grocery stores are taking part in the 2011 Toonies for Tummies program:

Happy (rather belated) Valentines Day

I have never been a Valentines Day grinch.

Well, maybe in grade 11, when I was single, and Brett Collins sent Jocelyn roses and a teddy bear!

It may be because I have managed to be single only one Valentines Day over the last 6 years, but I think that those who got cranky last Monday, and think that it's just a lame, girly, greeting card holiday, are those who refuse to take advantage!

And I don't mean take advantage as in, get drunk and find a bar full of equally drunk females, desperate not to be alone that night. I mean taking advantage of the more LOVEly oppertunities that this day brings each year.

I have, likely, THE most wonderful boyfriend imaginable (because how many boys out there would still love you after 3 years of panic-prone, and toilet-bound?), but for me, that's not where Valentines Day stops! OF COURSE I appreciate all the sexy and silly gifts we exchange, and the extra deep I love yous, but on this special day I like to take the chance to really spread it around.

(Pervs.)

On Valentines Day, romance with a significant other is pretty expected, because we're wonderful and madly in love. lol But the cutest little Valentines cake from my dad wasn't expected. And my dad tells me he loves me every day, but he knew that a little unexpected something would make me smile! And all my loved ones who found a little love in their mailboxes, they didn't expect that! Even though they know how much I adore them.

And I could have been a little selfish, and held their Valentines hostage until they were able to come visit me, but the whole point of a special and specific love day is to have an excuse to go above and beyond, to express how you feel. I think, anyways! I could send my girl friends flowers, or bring them secret candy any other Monday, and they could love it! They could also see it as a little excessive, lol and creepy. As could that unsuspecting girl in the cubical next to yours whom you've adored since the day she was hired. But on Valentines Day, you see, anything goes!

My one single-girl Valentines Day? I spent it with two of my best looking girl friends! Pizza Hut and a movie date, and chocolates and mushy heart cards! And I loved it! We'd been out together 50 times before that, but since it happened to be Valentines Day we chose to make that date of ours a special one. We could have JUST as easily (maybe even easier) decided to stay home with a bag of bagels and a tub of ice cream and My Best Friend's Wedding..but why not get out and celebrate the love that we had for each other instead?

It's a choice! It's a choice to celebrate Valentines Day (just like some people choose to never dress up and trickertreat on October 31st, or refuse to wear all green and get drunk on March..whatever day St. Patricks Day is), and I don;t know why anyone would choose NOT to love.

I'm sure Hallmark does cash in on February 14th (my boyfriend has proven to be a brilliant card-picker/writer!), but if we all choose to put a little EXTRA love out there..whether we're dating the love of your life, or married with kids, divorced, recently broken-up-with and cranky, or contently single..I think we'd all cash in pretty nicely too.

I mean, don't we all love at least someone? And don't they deserve an extra special expression of that, on this specific day?


<3

Romanticized Revelation

A little while ago I had a horrible day. Everything was going wrong! And I was becoming sicker and sicker. That night I showered and got all ready for work, and at 9:30pm (a half hour before I needed to leave for work!) I get stuck on the toilet with a pounding heart. 'Because a sinus infection and dizzy head wasn't enough to deal with, let's throw in diarrhea at the last minute!' (insert evil laugh here)

I text my boyfriend, because that's the first thing I do when I'm getting panicky and feeling like I'm going to be sick. Text my boyfriend, or BriBear or daddy, or my sister, or sometimes I text everyone all at once because I'm desperate for (digitally typed) company! This time though, I text my boyfriend, who was at a Birthday party for our friend, and I got this in return,

"I'm here with you, just breathe"

'Just breathe' is a common response that I get from him. By now, after all the texts I've sent him in a panic, he knows that 'Just breathe' is a comfort. But I have never gotten an 'I'm here with you' before.

For just a minute, a profound warm feeling took over all the aches and pains and shakes. And even though the symptoms returned eventually, I had a thought..

I'm always wondering, or screaming, "WHY ME?!". Why in a world full of pedophiles and serial killers, am I the one who gets a sinus infection when I've already been dealing with a GI issue and a panic disorder for the last few years?

What if I am so unlucky health-wise, because I have been SO lucky in love.

Could that be it? Does anyone else vote that maybe that's why I'm so sick? In order to balance out all the great loves in my life, I need to be sick?

Maybe that's just it. And if I had to choose between the two, well, what's the point in being healthy and normal if you have no one to share it with, and no one to send you beautiful text messages when you need them the most?

(Deep down, frankly I believe I deserve both. But anxious, infected beggars with brilliant boyfriends..can't be choosers!)





HAPPY VALENTINES DAY, Love Princess Georgia

The more I learn, the lamer I feel..

I was with a friend last night, and among many fantastic topics of conversation, came marijuana. And it got me thinking more. About smoking it. Lol

I used to smoke a lot in high school. Though, I'm pretty sure MY definition of smoking a lot is rather pathetic compared to the majority of my fellow classmates. I remember us girls bonding over the fact that our 'cycles' had aligned naturally..and then further bonding over how much getting high helped lessen the painful, bloated, nauseous side effects that are coupled with being a woman.

A little while ago my dad and I were watching a Discovery Channel mini series about drugs (do YOU know how they make cocaine?), and I started considering the positive effects that smoking again could have on my anxiety.

Its a toughie though! I don't drink because panic has lead to a severe fear of not being in control of myself, and drinking greatly enables a loss of control. And besides the fact that I don't really hang out with people who smoke weed anymore, I'm sure that I've chosen to avoid it over the last few years because as good as the high can feel, you're still losing control.

Plus, I've had my fair share of bad highs. Sometimes I'd end up staring in a stranger's bathroom mirror for what seemed like hours with my best friend, laughing hysterically and taking turns peeing because we were laughing so hard..and other times I'd wind up paranoid and hallucinating and wishing there was some kind of de-high button you could push!

You never really know how a high is going to turn out (maybe unless you're Snoop Da-double G) and panic has has destroyed my interest in any kind of unknowns. There's a good chance I could have a drink or two tonight and feel totally fine and happy..but there's also a chance I could end up shoving $50 at a cab driver and begging her to get me home before I shit my pants, and then end up throwing up. And honestly, the idea of THAT chance has my heart speeding up even now.

Still curious though, I Googled 'marijuana and anxiety', because that's what we do now when we have wonders! And every site states the same thing, whether it's some stoner's blog or a web M.D. And that is that the effects are different for anyone, and you can't predict it. Even getting a medical marijuana prescription and buying from some hippie/legal store doesn't ensure a nice, panic-reducing high. And I don't think I could survive a bad trip..no matter how many friends I had around to babysit me, or how many Ativans I had on hand. So really, why bother risking it?

Because if you don't risk it, how will you know?

Ya, ya.

This entry wasn't meant to be all about pot. My point was that Googling pot lead me to other sites about anxiety (because that's what Google does..takes you on an unexpected journey through interspace, every time!) and the new things that I learned have left me feeling a little extra useless.

Firstly, 'Agoraphobia'. This was never properly explained to me when I was first getting treatment. When people have their first (or one of their first) attack, they often form a fear of whatever they were doing when panic struck. If you were driving on the highway when you first felt the symptoms, driving could become something you're afraid of, because your brain assumes that doing it could lead to the next attack. For me, it was getting sick. I am definitely terrified of any stomach flu-related symptoms. And that's Agoraphobia, an often unnatural fear that only develops because of anxiety, and not for any other rational reasons.

I read about people not being able to be around kittens because they had their first major attack when they were in a pet store trying to pick out a new cat to bring home! And really, how pathetic does that sound? About as pathetic as it sounds to say, Im scared of going to the bathroom now.

Also! Nocturnal Anxiety Attacks are a real thing! And why hasn't one of my doctors mentioned this term before? Do you know how mental I feel, trying to explain that I can be having a perfectly fine sleep and then suddenly wake up in the middle of a level 10 attack? I'm not having scary dreams, I'm not having flashbacks of some bad guy breaking into my house in the middle of the night, I'm just waking up for no reason, pounding and sweating and trying to breathe for no reason. And yet, there are other people out there who experience the same thing. Well, there must be, because that term wasn't invented just for me.

The bottom line here, is that even after nearly a year of KNOWING that I have an actual anxiety disorder, there's still a lot that I don't know. Learning new things is supposed to make you feel better, but it actually makes me feel more desperate for help, and that makes me feel stupid. Not that needing help is stupid. But feeling my skin start to crawl when I'm sitting in my perfectly safe bedroom just reading about what a panic attack is, makes me feel extra stupid. And thinking that this panic might be something that I'm going to have to just have to deal with for the rest of my life, feels pretty lousy too.

I don't have a real conclusion here. I'm trying to think of a well-written way to end this. But this is my blog, so I'm just going to deem proper endings unnecessary for now. The end!

To those of you whose cell provider is Bell,

Thank you!

For every text you sent today, and every long distance call you made, Bell donated 5cents to Canadian mental health initiative programs!

If you're reading this today (February 9th) and it's not quite midnight, get to typing! "GOOD NIGHT" can easily be turned into two separate text messages! Add an "X" and an "O" on their own, and you're already at 20cents!

Go here for more information about Bell's LETS TALK About Mental Health 5 year program:

http://www.newswire.ca/en/releases/archive/January2011/17/c2899.html

First Lesson of 25, Learned:

Not all the world is bad.



I absolutely lost my mind Monday night.

And by mind, I mean I lost my iPhone.

I remember texting a friend from the parking lot, getting out and going into the grocery store, then realizing at the check-out that my phone wasn't in it's pocket. I rushed back to the car assuming it'd be in the cup holder where it sometimes ends up if I'm driving.

It wasn't. Huhhhhhhhhh.

I opened my door and ran around the parking lot looking for it, retraced my steps in the grocery store, then rushed home to have a VERY decent cry.

I kept calling and calling my own number and when it kept going straight to voicemail, the only logical assumption was that someone had found it, planned on keeping it and therefore turned it off. So then I started sending texts to the phone offering a reward, and leaving sniffling messages on the answering machine.

A few minutes later, mom called. And someone had called her to say they'd found my phone and had turned it into the customer service desk at the grocery store.

I don't know who found it, and why they turned it in instead of taking home a free iPhone...but they taught me that not all the world is bad. I was SO sure that it was gone for good, because life has never been all that fair to me, and why NOT add a lost and stolen phone to a still-officially-undiagnosed illness?! But I caught a break this time. A super huge one!

Whoever found a green-cased iPhone in the Food Basics parking lot on Clairfields... I hope Karma gives you a giant kiss, from me.

Night Night, Sweet Dreams

After an already craptacular morning, I'm in bed now with a garbage can next to me. I was getting ready for bed, and all of a sudden I felt so nauseous I almost fell over. It's a hot pink garbage can, but it doesn't make me feel any better!

Huhhhhhhhhh. I'll be fine.

The Gravol will kick in, I'll have a few gold fishes so I can take my sinus meds, finish some Greys, and then go back to bed. And I still believe that I could feel better, when I wake up and try all over again tomorrow.

I do! Strangely enough, I keep hoping and trying to remain optimistic. But I mean, I have to! I have to keep pushing through. I have to hold on and keep trying.

Because there WILL be a day when I'll wake up feeling...nothing worth noting, and I'll get out of bed and get ready to go out and work my semi-enjoyable full-time job. And at the end of the day I'll come home to make dinner with Nolan in our own kitchen, and we'll eat on the couch watching TV and then have some superb sex! Or maybe sex before, because I don't enjoy full-tummy sex. We will clean up the kitchen, pack our lunches for the next day, maybe have a shower, and then get into our big cozy bed where we'll laugh, and fall asleep to the TV. And nowhere a long the way, will I need to stop and take notice of how shitty I feel. I'll have a good sleep, next to the man I love, and I'll wake up feeling just fine again the next day.

I know it. I have to know it! That one day, I'll be just fine.

And until then? Huhhhhh... I'll just keep trying to push through it and keep hanging on.