I went outside today.

After getting up around 8:30, I had already had 2 naps by 1:00.  I decided we better eat lunch and hubby and I could take little one for a walk.  She needed to get some energy out and I needed to leave the house, the longer I stay in the less I want to leave.

It hasn’t been a horrible day, though it was school getting out time when we went for our walk there was a ton of foot and car traffic and I was feeling really closed in and got really anxious. But I made it.

I went to see my PCP yesterday.  Up to 224.5 woohoo, that’s a ton of weight in just 9 months time. So tired of being fat and ugly.  I didn’t even bother taking my shoes off for the weigh in I was like screw it I don’t even care.

I went in with a list of things I wanted him to help me with. Diabetes first on the list.  I don’t want to end up like my dad, he was 39, I will be 39 in just over a month. So he ran an A1C I am waiting on the results of that. Let’s hope I am not diabetic yet.  It’s inevitable, especially since I had gestational diabetes but I would like to hold it off a little while yet.

My hip has been a problem for over a year.  The MRI showed a tear in the labrum of my left hip but despite 2 doctors and a radiologist confirming it, the only doctor in that particular practice that fixes them said he doesn’t believe in MRIs and said to live with it… but if I still hurt in a year we can start over. PCP not impressed sending me to a specialist.

And finally I have constantly numb hands, I can’t type long, knit, sew, write or do any of the things I do to make myself feel better.  So he’s sending me to a neurologist.

I feel like he heard me, he listened, he saw past the fat to the person inside that’s in pain and hurting and he was compassionate. I needed that. I am so appreciative.

I think it’s time to go lay on the couch and nap before I have to make dinner. Until later….

Did I ever mention I have OCD? 

I have OCD. My OCD involves several things one is checking and rechecking and checking and rechecking and checking and rechecking. Another is germs no one can touch my towel my phone my cup or pretty much anything of mine without it being contaminated. And that includes members of my immediate family. In public I am constantly using hand sanitizer there or other means to not actually have to touch public things. Another OCD I have is called hit-and-run OCD. I often have to retrace the places that I’ve driven because I’m convinced that I’ve hit someone always a person and don’t know it. If for some reason I’m unable to turn around and retrace my steps I have to pull over get out of my car and look around to make sure there is no hair, body parts or  blood on my car.  Crazy right? 

Germs or what we are going to focus on today. My Germa- phobic OCD extends beyond myself I’m constantly making my children wash their hands after all they touch dirty things.  Well tonight at Walmart I really had to pee. I do my best not to use public restrooms at all if I do I do the hover method, and unless it’s an utmost emergency will not do anything but pee, with anxiety induced IBS this often leads to painful incidents where I am waiting a long time to get home.  TMI?  Too bad it’s my blog.  Anyway- The lady in the stall next to me had her purse ON THE FLOOR.  THE FLOOR!  OF THE WALMART BATHROOM!  Do you even understand how gross this is?  My purse is not allowed on any surface of my home other than a stove burner (germs will be burned off) or the floor.  Next (and I don’t usually pay this much attention to people in the stall next to me however I couldn’t stop staring at this lady’s purse thinking of all the organisms crawling all over it), next she unraveled the toilet paper so much a pile of it was also ON THE FLOOR.  And then- SHE USED IT.  What on earth.  Because of this I had to wash my hands more than once, use tons of hand sanitizer and I shiver every time I think of it.  Yes, yes I’m crazy.  And if you are that lady at Walmart – cut it out that’s gross you don’t know what you are bringing home to your house!  My poor hands from too much washing/sanitizing today…

Another sad day

I REALLY hate waking up and feeling sad for no apparent reason.  I mean yes- there’s crap going on in my life, but this sad isn’t situational it’s whole body sad.  Sad that permeates every single part of your being.  Even my hair feels sad.  What a ridiculous statement. How can hair feel sad? Hair doesn’t have feelings.  I feel like I’m made of lead.  My body doesn’t want to move from wherever I am at the moment. 
My mom made me laugh this morning though… in the past couple weeks I’ve asked her some probing, difficult questions, including but not limited to “did we really run away from dad once?”, “was I a tyrant as a child “and is it POSSIBLE that someone other than my dad who raised me is my dad?” I know grasping at straws here.  Today she texted me and asked me “Whats the question of the day thats been cluttering your mind?” I appreciate that she’s willing to entertain my thoughts and obsessions.  I’m seeing a side of her that I never have, and I appreciate it.But I’m still sad today. And everything is loud.  I just want to crawl back in bed and hide under the covers….

He’s Talking to me today…

I am a Christian-tho I call myself a baby Christian because I’ve only been saved for 4 years.  

I also doubt my “goodness” as a Christian as judged by human standards based upon my commitment to my spiritual disciplines.  Upon my inability to “give it all to Him” and feel instantly better.  

I’m sure a lot of my perceived failure has to do with my relationship with my Earthly father, never being good enough for him.  And sometimes lately God has seemed far away.  I KNOW He isn’t but sometimes when going through the harshest storms you look left and right and wait for Him to pull you out of it (yeah yeah I know that’s not Biblical). 

  But today Air1 (radio station) has been speaking to me.  The first song I heard this morning was https://youtu.be/AiF09D9TIls

Then today’s verse of the day was perfect for me 

“For our present troubles are small and won’t last very long. Yet they produce for us a glory that vastly outweighs them and will last forever!”

‭‭2 Corinthians‬ ‭4:17‬ ‭NLT‬‬

Then tonight as I came down to prepare the kitchen for the morning and again that same song came on, and right after that one this one came on https://youtu.be/wjLlLPZderk followed by https://youtu.be/emgv-VRtMEU

If you listen to the lyrics it really would appear God is reminding me He’s here, with me, in this storm and He will not let me go.  I’m grabbing that life rope tonight because I feel like I’m being pulled under water and for tonight it just might keep me afloat.


I couldn’t even eat dinner with my family tonight. Every time one of my children spoke it was like someone scratching a chalkboard with their fingernails. I feel so horrible saying that but all today they’ve done nothing but talk talk talk talk talk talk talk and my Brain just is at capacity. I didn’t want to tell them this and make them feel  bad so I just quietly went away while they were eating. Does your anxiety ever get the better of you?does it make you not even want to be with those you love? And doesn’t it make you feel oh so much guiltier?

More Memories…

It might seem morbid that I am writing all these things down, or maybe that I am looking for pity, or attention.  But honestly I need to get these thoughts out of my head.   The memories have been coming fast and furiously the past couple of days, things I haven’t thought about in years. Things I wished I never had to think about again….

As a young child I was given a lot of responsibility, more than I should have at the ripe old age of 8.  I would come home from school and my mom would head off to work. I was expected to care for my 5 year old sister, do my homework, and start dinner, as well as make sure the house was spotless.  My house was always clean as a museum, dad wanted “to be able to be eat off the floor”. So when we heard my dad’s truck downshift as he came down the street we would run around the house making sure everything was perfect. If not, there was hell to pay. But usually it was. However, one day I had forgotten to let the dog in, it was the middle of winter.  Because my house was literally close to 100 degrees all the time thanks to a huge wood stove I was wearing a tee shirt and shorts.  The dog had been out for maybe 30 minutes, maybe a little more maybe a little less, I was 8 or 9, time has dulled some of the memories.  So Dad was in a rage over the “poor dog”.  Now let me take a moment and describe to you the type of treatment this “poor dog” got from Dad.  If the dog peed or pooped on the floor he was grabbed HARD, he was scruffed his nose rubbed in it and then he was punted across the floor (he was a small terrier dog). So, it seems sort of hypocritical that he would complain that I legitimately forgot the dog while I was cooking, doing homework, tidying house and taking care of my sister. So my punishment was that he dragged me, outside by the ear, barefoot, in my shorts and teeshirt, tied me to the dog run and practically kicked me down our porch stairs.  I don’t remember how long I was out there, it seemed like forever to a child, but I am sure the reason I got to come in when I did was my sister begging for my mercy. We only had each other.  We used to protect the other as much as we could.

Another memory that came to me today was when we were riding in the car somewhere.  I don’t remember what I did to make him angry, but I remember him reaching over and slapping my thigh so hard it stung and there was a handprint. He then screetched the car over to the side of the road and made me get out.  He told me to walk home and he drove away.  I remember feeling alone and abandoned.  Scared and unsure how to get home.  But I didn’t have to walk far before he came back for me.  Apparently my sister- the golden child at that time in our lives had begged and cried and persisted that he come back for me.  Thank God I had her growing up.  Without her I don’t know if I would be here today.

Now, I certainly don’t want anyone thinking that I think my dad is the cause of all the problems in my life, that it’s all his fault I have depression and anxiety. He certainly contributed, but I had many things against me growing up, and even as an adult.  Certainly much of my PTSD comes from him and the things he did to me, and I know that I say I forgive him for all these things, but I honestly don’t know if in my heart I do.

There are more memories that have been plaguing me lately, but that’s enough for today, I want to get them out, but I don’t want to think about them all day long….

He keeps it going…

Dad has called me 3 times today.  The first two times to scream at me for things out of my control and the third he was nicer and wanted to make sure I knew how to reach him.  I wanted to tell him I didn’t need to reach him because I didn’t want to talk  to him… today, tomorrow or ever again.  But the truth is I will probably answer the phone when he calls again today, because he will.  And I’ll have no answers for him for his requests because I have no way to get him what he’s asking me for.  My sister seemed irritated I called and asked her what to do. She’s on vacation with her little man, she puts in a lot of time with Dad and his issues, she deserves her time away, but I don’t know the ins and outs of his situation like she does, I have no coping skills to deal with my own life on a daily basis I certainly can’t deal with my dads.  

More memories keep flashing back to me- the time my friend’s dad brought me home late from band rehearsal because he was running late- dad was waiting at the top of the stairs as I came through the door of our raised ranch with “the look” on his face.  My stomach dropped.  I was worried the whole way home he’d be mad I was late, the dad assured me he’d understand because it wasn’t my fault.  But it didn’t matter in the end.  In the end it was my fault in dad’s eyes.  He told me dinner had been ready for a while and I was late and to get to the table.  I had tears in my eyes as he shoved me towards the table.  I sat down looked at my plate and before I could pick up my fork I felt his hand on the back of my head.  He slammed my face into my plate of dinner.  I remember the feeling of the mashed potatoes smooshing under the force of my face hitting the plate, and the peas breaking covering my eyes and going up my nose.  I remember my shoulders shaking as I cried out.  He told me to  get cleaned up and eat. Act as is nothing happened.  Let’s pretend…. pretending is what I’m good at…