The Monsters in Disguise

I wonder how many of you out there realize there are monsters walking around beside you in your everyday life. These are people who are angry, irrational, rude, mean, and sometimes violent. I'm one of these monsters.

Without the aid of what I call my "Happy Pills," I am indeed a monster of great proportions. We're talking hairy face, long fangs, sharp claws...the works. Doctors call it depression with an emphasis on anger. I call it a pain in the neck. If I miss so much as one dose, I'm in danger of exploding. As long as I'm faithful, the pharmacy is faithful, the doctor's office is faithful...all goes well. But one little slip-up and I'm a freaking catastrophe.

There was one of these said slip-ups recently. If I refill my medicine too early, the insurance won't cover it. There's this small window of time during which I can refill it, have it covered, and keep everyone safe from harm. I must've gotten it refilled late last time because I had to wait until the very day I ran out to get the refill this time.

It's usually not a big deal, especially since I ran out in the middle of the week. Everyone's still working...no holidays or weekends to wait through. I just ran to the pharmacy and asked for a refill.

Well.

The doctor requires you to come in for an evaluation every year or so. On the prescription bottle, you see a little date at the bottom that explains you may have "x" number of refills until such-n-such date, at which time you will have to go in for that evaluation. Somehow, I'd let that time lapse WITHOUT the ever-loving evaluation. My doctor knows me very well and I can usually just call him and say, "I'm still mad as a hatter. Refill?" And it's all okay.

This time the pharmacy assured me it would be no problem for them to the call the doctor and have it all ready for me by the afternoon.

It wasn't.

And it still wasn't ready the next day.

Life goes on around us, with or without monster-preventing medication and that's exactly what happened this time. Life. There were things that needed attending to and these things completely took my mind off of the pharmacy for a few days. We headed into the weekend and then, my friends, all bets were off on me making it through unscathed.

I absolutely melted down. I don't exactly know why, but something made me start yelling and I'm pretty sure I didn't stop for 24 hours or so. Yelling. Crying. Yelling. Crying. Yelling some more. My poor family.

The fire coming out of the top of my head was NOT the Holy Spirit and only caused anyone close to me to burn horribly. I was a monster.

Well, I called my doctor's office and they told me NEVER to depend on the pharmacy to refill this delicate of a medication and I had that medication in my hands within a few hours. The monster is buried deep within me once again.

But I know it's there. And that's what bothers me. Without medication, I am none of the things my husband loves about me. Without medication, I am not even accessible to my children. Without medication, I forget God is here and ready to help me.

I hate the monster. I will live with it and fight it every day of my life. But I will never love it.

There are monsters walking among us. I'm one of those monsters.

Entertaining Guests

Saturday evening we had our good friends, the Toyes, over for dinner. This was a WONDERFUL time of visiting and playing and laughing. However, dinner was not what I expected at ALL!

I consider myself to be a somewhat okay cook. I enjoy cooking and often experiment on dishes. I learned long ago NOT to make an experimental dish when cooking for company. So, fighting the urge to be creative, I decided to make "Chicken Stuff" (this is our family's variation on "Poppy-seed Chicken"), rice, and mixed veggies. Simple, right? I've been making this meal for years. I could do it blindfolded, in the woods, while on medication. Perfect plan for company. It's yummy, and I don't have to worry about glitches.

There were glitches.

I was in the middle of making the chicken dish when I realized I was out of one of the ingredients! This is a staple in my pantry that I'm NEVER without! Good grief. Well, some substitution did the trick and I was back on track. Then, I accidentally mixed two kinds of rice together so that half didn't cook at all and the other half OVER-cooked!! AAAAGH! Who can't make rice?! I've been making rice for years and years!! Good! Grief!

This threw me into such a tizzy that I completely forgot to put the vegetables on at all until just a few minutes before our friends' arrival. *sigh* I put them on, but they didn't get soft enough for my liking. I was so utterly deflated that I forgot at this point to even SEASON the rice and vegetables! Gross!

I served everything anyway and everyone was gracious...it just shows I'll never be prideful about my cooking!! Never!

Stupid rice.

At least dessert was perfect. That's probably because it hadn't encountered my kitchen. Kim Toye brought it from HER kitchen. Thanks, Kim. That peach pie saved the evening! :)

Well, this is what becomes of going so long without entertaining. Mark and I love to have people over, but we haven't done it since moving to Searcy. Now, we're getting back into it! I'm so excited! Obviously, I'll need lots of practice before we're any GOOD at it...but we're not giving up!

Now...who will our next victims be?...

Catching up...

Has it really been so long since I've blogged? Shameful. It's not as if nothing's been going on. Let's see if I can recap...

In February we got a dog. She's a standard poodle; her name's Maisy (pronounced like daisy, but of course with an "m"); she's still a puppy but is bigger than most grown dogs so she's more than a handful. Why does dog pee smell SO BAD?? I've scrubbed the floor more times than I care to count. But, she's worth it. She's cute and sweet and a great addition to our family. She bites...but she's just playing. She scratches, but surely she'll grow out of that. We love her. We do!

In March, we had birthdays, surgeries, and travel!! The boys each had tubes put in their ears and their tonsils and adenoids taken out. My sister, Kat, came up and helped with their recovery during HER birthday. The boys didn't recover as quickly as we'd thought, but they are finally feeling great!

We celebrated Maggie's birthday in Tulsa this year (same as last year). Her birthday falls during Spring Break and also is simultaneous with the Tulsa Workshop...Mark always has a Harding booth at the workshop...so we all went with him. My parents and Mark's parents, as well as my sister!, joined us and we had a long weekend of fun. :) There was great food, Chuck E. Cheese, gifts, and lots of rest. Wonderful! (Did I mention that, just before the trip, I took my own trip to the E.R.? Not as fun as Tulsa.)

Since Maggie didn't get to celebrate her birthday with her friends, we had a "friends" party in April. In fact, this was just this past Friday night. A few girlfriends came over (plus one mom I couldn't have done this without! Thanks, Kim!) and we partied in true giggly-girl fashion. It was a "Pretty Pink" party. Everyone wore pink, the house was decorated in pink, the cupcakes were pink, and during the Barbie movie, as we sat eating pizza and giggling some more, I did the girls' hair one by one...bling-string and pink hairspray. The girls hounded Mark until I sprayed his hair too. We were all pinked out.

And worn out.

And now you're all caught up!

Bed of Roses

I used to say I can't help how I feel. In fact, I still say that sometimes. I wonder though if it's completely true. Lately I've struggled with memories. You know the ones I mean...the ones where I remember a very bad decision I made and wish I could go back and make the right one.

My life is so wonderful now and I don't know that going back and changing my decisions would change the outcome of where I've landed or not, but it would delete the bad memory. I do this every once in awhile. I start obsessing over why I made such bad choices. Why couldn't I have been stronger, smarter, wiser, better? Was it worth it? No. Why did I think it would be?

These bad memories start bombarding my thoughts and I begin to feel myself hunkering down behind the mental fort of funk in hopes of protection against the onslaught of memory-arrows. I shouldn't have ever gone out with that guy. I should never have accepted that drink. I don't know why I became friends with that girl. Did I really think seeing that movie was a good idea? How could I have spoken to my parents that way? Was dropping out of college ever, in any way, a good plan? Did I even know the difference between fun and stupid? When did I ever believe laws were optional?

Good grief.

Like I said, I do this every once in awhile. I get into a funk and it takes prayer and encouragement to climb back out of it. So I don't want to get into it again. Isn't that what grace is for? So I don't have to wear that burden anymore? I made horrible choices and suffered the consequences and now I am clean...forgiven...pure. Because God is able to forgive so completely as to make all these things disappear from my record, I am all good now. If I'm all good, why do I still dive into that funk?

The other day, it began. I heard from an old friend...an old partner in "crime" from my dumber days. Man, we had fun together; and it was great getting in touch again. But, with the good memories came the bad. And I found myself spending the better part of an hour reliving those stupid choices in my mind and trying to reconfigure them so that I could imagine what it would've been like if I'd made good choices.

I caught myself. Rather, God hit me on the head. This will lead to unnecessary funk!! Stop. Just stop. Smile. You're not there anymore. It's done. You have more stupid mistakes to look forward to. Why obsess over the old ones?

The funk was held at bay and I immediately felt a burst of energy. No funk. Only relief that God had pulled me out of every single idiotic spot I'd gotten myself into and placed me instead in such a beautiful bed of roses.

Now, although it's still a battle, I intend to turn every potentially funk-bringing moment into a moment of gratitude. I'm sure y'all have this figured out already. I mean, I usually am the last to catch onto things. But, I just thought I'd share that I've arrived. At least for today.

Progress Report

Hello, Bloggers! Time for an update into Project Skinny. This is the hardest time I've ever had losing weight. But then again, I ain't no spring chicken. Metabolism used to be a non-issue...and now it's my arch enemy. So how am I doing?

I'm down two more pounds! Yay, Me! It's not my ideal pace, but it's a loss and not a gain so I'll take it!

I've been working out on the elliptical. I know that's the biggest body-changer. But I've started changing my eating habits as well. THIS is the tough part for me. I like to taste good food. I love to eat yummy food whether I'm hungry or not. I could easily plan an event, vacation, party, etc around food. Food is by far the number one deal-breaker when deciding to attend a function. Will there be food? No? Think I'll stay home. I. Like. Food.

This morning I had a Weight Watchers yogurt for breakfast. Now, I'm not "doing" Weight Watchers, but I know they have a good thing going and so I thought it couldn't hurt to tip into the plan every once in awhile. I usually either skip breakfast, or have Ramen noodles. Stop it! I can feel you judging me!

For lunch, I had breaded chicken breast over Parmesan pasta. Yes, yes, I know. This is not "diet" food. However, it's miles better than the chips, Twix, and Diet Dr. Pepper I usually have. Baby steps here, People!

And, here's a tip...it really does make a difference what you're wearing when you weigh. Between the first weigh-in this morning (while wearing my heavy terry-cloth robe and a terry-cloth towel on my wet head) and my second weigh-in this morning (naked and dry) there was a six pound difference. SIX POUNDS!

So...onward, my Soon-to-be-Skinny Friends. Ounce by ounce, you and I are going to be stunning by summer!

Amidst Beauty

Sunday morning, I had the honor of attending church service at the Searcy Healthcare Center. Mark leads singing there sometimes and I wanted the children and myself to go and experience relationships with the elderly. When we entered, we had to dis-alarm the door. The residents are not prisoners, but without the door locked and alarmed they may "escape". There are those who will simply leave because there is a door open.
The room we entered was already filling up with residents and a few of their family members. Wheelchairs and folding chairs were our pews and the foyer was our sanctuary. I looked around at all the residents. Some were sitting quietly, just waiting to begin. Some were talking loudly and enjoying the social gathering as if it was a big party. Some were staring in what seemed to be a vacant not-quite-there appearance. All were dressed up. Lipstick, jewelry, bows in hair, ties, cologne, and glitter. This was obviously a time during the week that held great honor amongst the residents.
The boys fit perfectly on a loveseat near the front, but there was no seat for Maggie (my grown-up seven-year-old). She didn't look twice. There was an empty chair between two elderly ladies (one in a wheelchair) and Maggie simply went up to both the ladies and asked if she could sit there.
The ladies were ecstatic. Maggie reached over to touch the purple, velvet sleeve of the wheelchaired woman on her left (who can resist purple velvet?). The woman smiled and reached over in turn to feel Maggie's bare arm. They both nodded approvingly, as if sharing a private moment only they understood.
The woman on Maggie's right had a cold and was sniffing. Maggie too had been sneezing a bit (it's allergy season here) so when Mark handed Maggie a handful of tissue, she immediately gave one to the sniffing woman. The woman grinned and thanked her. They were kindred at once.

When Mark got up to lead singing there was a mixed response. He'd purposely picked golden oldies to lead...those with a slow enough pace so as not to leave anyone behind. Many sang with no trouble; some sang at the top of their lungs with no inhibitions, and one woman in the back (the one I'd assumed was vacant) clapped her hands the entire time Mark was singing.
You'd think this would be a distraction from worship. Quite the opposite. It was in fact a purification of the worship service. I looked at each tender, wrinkled face and noticed three things in common with each one.
First, no one used the book they'd been given. They knew the words and sang with no fumbling.
Second, there was no looking from side to side. The residents sang only to God. They cared not that the person next to them was off-key or sniffing or shaking or fidgeting.
Lastly, these precious people were all smiling. All of them. These songs must've been so beautiful to God.
I convinced myself that, if I closed my eyes, I could hear a perfect harmony among the cacophony of voices. I believe the angels couldn't help themselves from joining in.

When the sermon began, it was just as interesting as the singing had been. The residents had eyes only for the speaker and actually answered his questions. "I mean, what's the one thing we've always wanted, ever since we were little kids?" (the answer here was "approval" or "affirmation"). A strong voice from somewhere in the middle yelled, "TOYS!" :)

During the taking of the Lord's Supper, I saw the breaking of the bread as Jesus surely meant it to be. Those who shook uncontrollably were helped by their neighbors. Those who had no control over their faculties were helped by their neighbors. Those who seemingly stared vacantly at no one were helped by their neighbors. Everyone partook. And everyone partook as one unit. One body. Some became hands for others. Some became laps for others. We were complete.

After the service, it was time for the residents to return to their rooms. I caught on to the routine quickly. They needed help for multiple reasons. Some needed the physical help of traveling back. Some needed the mental help of remembering where their room was. Doors needed guarding for all the residents seem in the habit of wandering. More than once I heard someone saying, "Ooops. One's getting away. Come back, Dear!"
Before anyone had started their journey back, Luke jumped up (he's my four-year-old) and began making his rounds. He hugged as many as he could and told each of them, "I love you!" One woman said, "She's a pretty little girl." Luke didn't correct her. How he had the wherewithal is a mystery. Phoenix shook hands with them (my five-year-old little man) and instantly began helping fold the chairs back up.
Maggie and I braced a woman on each side and patiently shuffled her down the hall. She told Maggie she was a "helpful young man" and Maggie smiled and said thank you. We asked her where her room was and she replied, "I've gone and forgotten the words to it." Okay. Find the orderly.

We were so honored and blessed that morning. I WILL be returning. Sitting amidst such pure beauty is an experience that overwhelmed and fed my soul.

Hot Diggity Blog!!

Well, Bloggers, the transformation has begun! I have gained so much energy this week that I'm not only seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, but I'm starting to feel that light on my face! I cleaned our house (yeah, the whole house) in three hours the other day!!! Woo-Hoo! That's the old Kim! I even have my old attitude back regarding the house's state of appearance. "If you leave a toy on the floor unattended, I will throw it away. Don't mess with my clean house!" I went to bed early last night and the last thing I said to Mark before closing my eyes was, "Don't let the kids ruin the house while I sleep." I'm back, Baby!

Let's review:
Old Kim (pre-illness)...Spic-n-Span house, hot dinner on the table at 5:00, schedule/routine/schedule/routine, Ladies' Bible Class, volunteering, sewing, etc...

Recent Kim (mid-illness)...sleep, cry, complain, sleep, laze-about, stare at what doesn't get done, sleep, etc...

Kim this week (mid-treatment)...up early, smiling, cleaning, organizing, playing, laughing, enjoying, cleaning, organizing, cleaning, organizing, etc...

Yay!!!

Oh, and did I mention I've lost 5 pounds? Oh, yeah. I'm back.