Thinking Too Much

Yesterday was Christmas. It wouldn't be Christmas in our family without drama. I was driving my grandmother home after she pitched a pretty big fit about wanting to leave NOW. But she is 98 years old, so I think she has earned the right to feel down, get tired and say things she doesn't mean to say. It's just that it upsets other family members and ends what is supposed to be a joyous day with a chaotic and overwhelming bang.

It's about a 20 minute drive from my parents' house to my grandmother's assisted living residence. Down lazy and winding country roads, past farm houses and new subdivisions. There are even a few hilly areas, which seems out of place in our area. As I listened to my grandmother sob and blow her nose in an old handkerchief bordered with cross stitched apples, I became cold and callous.

She said that she only came because it was Christmas. I'm not coming at Easter; I'm staying home. I told her Easter was a long way off and we would talk about it then. She was feeling old and sorry for herself, like she was too much trouble because she wanted to leave early and everyone had to back their cars out of the driveway so I could take her home. I can't imagine living 98 years, being so terribly tired every day, every muscle and bone in my body aching. Just taking 50 steps to the car must be exhausting. Forgetting little things, not big ones. Things that matter, that make your day function as it should. Where I laid the cup, which direction the key goes, misplacing the cap of the toothpaste on the counter. Grandma is almost completely blind. She feels her way through dresser drawers, clothes on hangers, the perfect towel or nightgown for what she needs.

And as I drove closer to her home and listened to her whine and complain and feel like nobody loved her, I thought about all the heartache and grief I have given my family. The pain I set in motion by deciding to live and stay here on earth but leave my husband and children behind. The financial burden I have caused, what my children went without, and the many women who replaced me as mother in their lives. Some of our relationships have healed, but they will never be the same. I did that. By deciding to live.

And as I listened to Grandma and to my feel-sorry-for-myself thoughts, I saw a bridge in the distance. I thought to myself how easy it would be to just veer to the left, hit the bridge and go off the side. Left because I would hit first; Grandma would have a chance if it was God's will. I could take care of two "problems", two "inconveniences" in one simple motion of my hand.

But I didn't, and I am still here. We both are. For today.

~b~

What is a Trigger Warning For?

I mean, I know what a trigger is when you're posting something somewhere, something that might trigger bad feelings or bad memories and such, but I mean, what is the point of it?

I joined several FB pages a few months back. I have to admit that initially I did it for the publicity, to get my blog and You Tube Channel out there and later on my novel. But then I kind of got involved, you know, with certain people, their stories, their lives, their problems. It's interesting to read about the different types of OCD, different treatments, different medications and, in general, how other people deal with OCD in their lives.

Then I started noticing trigger warnings, not just on the OCD pages, but also on the depression and Women Helping Each Other type pages. I tried to post something and was told I couldn't post it without a trigger warning.

So I started looking more closely at the FB pages I was on. Almost every post says "Trigger Warning" and then the person writes their message in the comments. If they don't do this, they are reprimanded by other posters, "You should have put a trigger warning!"

Okay, so if that's the case, how does one know if the content is a trigger or not without reading it first? Some people are even told to put "POSSIBLE trigger warning." lol Now it's all I see, all I think about, la da da da da. It's OCD, people! It seems odd to me that in group where you're supposed to share your concerns and fears, you have to put warnings to do so. How do people think they are going to get better by avoiding the very disorder they have?

I linked one of my videos about dreaming about my funeral in a group and it was taken down because the admin said it could have "triggered thousands of followers to worry about death." Really? So I'm responsible for causing thousands of people to worry about death? Sorry, but I don't think I have that kind of power.

So I've gotten out of most of the FB groups I was in; kept a few that have trigger warnings once in awhile, but not every post.

Thanks for listening to my rant.

Namaste,

~b~

Ebola

This is hitting a little too close to home right now as we live in Texas and my partner is going to be in Arlington sometime in the next couple of weeks. I have bitten my nails down to the quick, making it painful to even type this out. Anyone else worried about this disease?


I'm angry for two reasons. 1) the patient that died and the current patients in Dallas were not/are not going to be flown away from Dallas and taken to the same hospitals where the doctors who recovered were treated in special facilities. They flew the doctors from across the ocean to the U.S. for specialized care and they each survived. 2) President Obama continues to allow people to fly into the U.S. from countries in Africa where Ebola is killing people every day.


Political correctness and money, that's all I'm going to say on the subject.

Pretty Pathetic

Last night I dreamt I invented a phone app that would show you your funeral. Sometimes I wonder what my funeral/memorial service will be like. Will I be in a coffin or will I be cremated? I haven’t even written a will yet, but I would like to be cremated; I think it’s less expensive.



I also wonder how many people or who will attend my funeral, if, in fact, there is any service at all. I’m really ambivalent about there being a service as I feel no one would attend. But even more worrisome, is that people will attend just for show, because it’s expected. I wonder about the music that will be played. Sometimes I hear a song and I find myself jotting it down to be played at my funeral. If my family is reading this, the songs can be found on the notepad in my Iphone.



But of all the things about my funeral or lack of one, the most upsetting thought is what will be said about me. I would rather nothing be said (except for scripture verses about death and the afterlife) than things that are not true. I don’t want, "She was a good partner, mother, friend, etc." I feel those are untrue. I don’t want, "She was kind, caring, loving, etc." I feel those are untrue.



Maybe I should just write my own eulogy. It would go something like this:

She was on this earth to learn and enjoyed learning as well as teaching others. She wanted her children and partner and family to be happy and live life to the fullest. She found joy in small things like picnics, walking her dogs, lunches with friends, and singing. She found joy in the big things like having children, going to college, writing a book and reuniting with the love of her life. She never really figured out what to believe as truth, but she knows it now, as we all will. She accepted everyone and finally revealed her true self at the age of 46. She was a hard worker and always tried to meet her obligations but was ready to move on to another realm.



That’s really all the truth that can be said about me from someone else’s point of view. Pretty pathetic. Have you ever thought of your own funeral?

What's Up With Me

I'm doing okay this week. My latest obsession has subsided now since Joan Rivers passed. While she was in the hospital, I was constantly checking to see if she had died. I didn't even care for her. I liked her okay in her early years when she was making fun of herself and her marriage. But she went way too far when she made the joke about Michelle Knight and the other two girls who were kidnapped and held for years and years as sex slaves.


And while I feel they are both shallow people sometimes, I saw her daughter, Melissa, on  I'm a Celebrity. Get Me Out of Here, and I was amazed at her strength of character on that island. She was very sensitive and giving to others and stood firm on her convictions. Would not put up with bullying, etc. Don't know much about her in "real life."


Below is my latest video on how my therapist helped me in CBT with a couple of rituals I had. Hope it helps someone out there.

Asymmetrical

I bought this necklace the other day for 70% off. Now I see it's not symmetrical and it's driving me nuts. No wonder it was $5. Sigh.

Obsessing About Someone Else

My latest video. It's about the first time I found myself obsessed with another person. Please feel free to comment or ask questions. Thanks.

I am now on You Tube. Check out my first video!

What the Ice Bucket Challenge Taught Me

Sometimes I wonder why the hell I'm on social media at all. Yes, it's been great to reconnect with people from my past - well, some of them, that is.  You could have knocked me over with a feather when my first ex-husband had the audacity to friend request me on Facebook.


I've been on Twitter for about a year - wow, didn't realize it has been that long already. In a year, I don't think anyone has ever retweeted or favorited a tweet of mine. I think I've gotten two responses from my tweets - both were from celebrities.


I still don't get what's so great about Twitter. I mean, just when you are about to get out what you want to say (this post will show how long-winded I am), your character counter is running down to zero, and you have to back up and delete words or phrases, replacing them w/ abvns lk ths. I basically follow celebrities on it. I have trouble figuring out who is talking to whom, and the short keys and emojis are hard for me to follow. Not to mention that quite a few celebrities, e.g.. Cher, et al. have dyslexia and their writing is extremely hard for me to understand. I mean, really, follow her on Twitter and tell me what she is saying. Have you ever followed Mara Wilson, the ex-actress from Mrs. Doubtfire and Matilda? She is the re-tweeting queen and will make your head spin. I bet she retweets 100 x per day.


Other than getting together with my roommate from college and some people from high school that I NEVER hung around with, I haven't seen any of the 199 + people from my past in person. The other 50 people or so are people I have met within the past five years or so, e.g. co-workers, softball teammates, my partners' friends, my family.


So when my brother posted a video two days ago nominating me for the ALS Ice Bucket Challenge, it confirmed what I already knew - I have no close friends. I mean, really, who am I going to nominate? My partner, yes, but where would I find two other people?


My kids and parents have already been nominated. I feel like I would be the laughing stock of FB if I nominated someone I never see. The dialogue I envision would be like this:


B.M. - why would B nominate me? I haven't seen her since high school?


A.R. - why would B nominate me? Doesn't she have any close friends?


S.A. - why would B nominate me? I only worked with her one year and I probably will never see her again.


ALL: Doesn't B have a life?


So instead of videotaping myself nominating my one person, my partner, and being embarrassed about it, I simply made a contribution to. www.alsa.org. And when it asked the question, "Ice Bucket Challenge?" - I checked the box "no."


It sucks not having a close friend. Someone who would call on Friday and say, "Hey, I'm going to IKEA tomorrow to look at kitchen gadgets. Want to join me?" Or "Are you watching the game on Sunday? Want to watch it together?"


When I was married and had kids at home, we had a pretty much open-door policy until 10:00 p.m. (We had a family that would just show up to borrow things when we were already asleep, so we had to make the 10:00 p.m. rule.) It was nice because the house was USUALLY fairly presentable. If they were really friends, that shouldn't mind a little clutter. For many years I cried and cried because I had no close friends. Just when I got one or two, I left that life.


Are close friends necessary? No, probably not. Are they important? Yes, I think so. I have some close friends in the works. I will let you know if any of them pan out.


In the meantime, go to www.alsa.org and donate, even if you dumped ice water on your head.


Peace.

Now Playing in My Mind

Alligators

Lately, I have had a fear of encountering an alligator/crocodile (can't remember the distinction at the moment, but who cares? They're both dangerous!) while on walks with the dogs.


The other night I dreamt about one, and the next morning when I woke up, there was a story on the news of a crocodile encounter when a woman went wading in a canal. I never wade in canals, but I do know these creatures have been seen wandering in cities and in suburbs.

Nosebleed

I had my first nosebleed today. I'm 52 years old. Of course, like I do for everything, I googled its causes. One cause is:  Intranasal tumors (e.g. Nasopharyngeal carcinoma or nasopharyngeal angiofibroma). Of course it is!

My brain is always moving

Long Time No See

I haven't been writing here in what seems like forever for several reasons. I've been really busy and also, my OCD has been pretty manageable for awhile. I developed psoriasis a few years ago due to stress, which also escalates my OCD. Right now my psoriasis is out of control. Before my OCD does the same, I'd like to get some things on the page that have been bothering me:


1) airplanes disappearing and/or being shot down from the sky
2) the war going on in Gaza/Israel
3) the children immigrating to this country over the Texas border, alone and afraid
4) the media and social network frenzy over above
5) the movie "Fifty Shades of Grey" trailer
6) the media and social network frenzy over #5
7) the confrontation I had with a man at the 99 cent store a few weeks ago (I was afraid he was following me home)
8) the feeling that I have bone cancer


Alright, these have now been written down. I will come back to this page and expound on each subject that stays with me. Feel free to add your current obsessions here.


Namaste,


~b~

A Walk in the City

Because our treadmill is broken, I decided to walk "around the block." Now, our block is so long, it takes me at least 45 minutes to walk; it's that big. Row after row of apartment complexes, townhomes, condos, and office buildings. Sounds fun, huh? Not for someone with OCD over horizontal lines, cracks, and shadows.

I first knew I was in trouble when the spaces between the cracks in the sidewalk did not match my walking stride. I was walking down a major street of Houston, trying dodge the lines with my feet. It worked muscles in my pelvis area I didn't know I had, so I guess that is one good thing. I passed the Methodist Church whose sign mentioned something about stress, and I thought, "Yeah, this is pretty stressful." I can't imagine what I looked like from a passing car, like a fat, walking candy cane, my head bent over to look for the next line. My neck muscles were starting to throb before I reached the next corner. I finally realized that there was no possible way I was going to be able to dodge every horizontal line without either falling over or dying of embarrassment. Just when I talked myself into the fact that it was okay to touch every third line and I had gotten my rhythm down, the spaces between the lines changed, small in size. And to make matters worse, construction crews had painted flourescent orange lines and letters on the sidewalk. I looked at my watch. I had only been walking for eight minutes.

Why do I do this to myself? I continued on around the corner, dodging cars as they came in and out of parking lots and beginning what I didn't realize would be what seemed the longest stretch of sidewalk. But at least there was a sidewalk. Read down the page to understand this comment. After I passed yet another church, I began to relax somewhat as the cracks were now farther apart and there was actually a nice breeze blowing in the 94 degree weather. I was now claiming this sidewalk as my own. It was now almost 5:45 p.m. I passed two weedeating yard men and cautiously avoided touching their lines of cut grass which were laying in the middle of "my" sidewalk.

I knew it was too good to be true. About halfway down the block, when I was finally starting to pick up some good steam and get a little bit of cardio in, I came upon a stretch of sidewalk that looked like it had been blasted with jackhammers.

Life

Incredibly boring
Increidbily lonely
Incredibly depressing

Magic Kingdom and Wicked Spoilers

Have I told you lately how much I hate OCD? Do any of you have obsessions with behind the scenes/special effects of things? A few months ago, I was obsessed with the utilidoors at Disneyworld. I feel like the last person on earth who knew the secret. When my brother started telling me about them, he said not to look into it more because it would ruin my fantasy of Disneyworld. Sure enough, he was right. If any of you are curious and don't care if you ruin your Disney experience, here is more info about the utilidors. You can even take a "tour" of the utilidors. The guy who snuck in and filmed this was kicked out of Disneyworld for life. Now I am obsessed with the musical Wicked. And not simply the musical, but a specific scene during the song "Defying Gravity", when Elphaba ascends. During the musical, I missed so much of the song because I was trying to find the secret platform that lifts Elphaba up. In this video it shows how it actually works. Now that scene will be ruined for me, too. Ugh! Hope I haven't spoiled anything for you here, but you were warned!

Monk?

Sadness

This is me today.

This post is dedicated to my grandmas

I am fortunate and blessed that I still have both of my grandmas with me, well into their 90s.

First, my maternal grandma:

What can I say? She is my best friend. When I left my husband and my girls in 2008, I stopped calling her. She wondered why, but she knew in her gut why. She refused to accept my absence from her life. She said, "No matter what, I still love you."

People don't understand why I am so close to her after everything her husband did to me. I really can't answer that. In my heart, I know that she always knew but refused to believe it. She has always stood by me in everything else. I really think that if I had come right out and said it, she would have supported me, but I was too afraid to try. I always obsess when I haven't talked to her in awhile, obsessed that I would cause her death. She's in her 90s; it's going to happen soon.

My paternal grandmother:

When I was 3 weeks old, my dad had a major accident with his eye and had to be hospitalized. She took care of me. It is an unspoken understanding that because of that, I will take care of her on her deathbed. She is petrified of death at almost 96 years of age. I feel that when she is at that place, between life and death, that I am the only one who can help her make that crossing. I was with her when her husband was at death's door. I see her every other weekend, taking her on errands, playing Rummicube with her and her friends. When she doesn't feel well, I can get it out of her, that she doesn't feel well. I truly enjoy spending time with her. I have the same obsession with her; if I don't call her, I feel that I will cause her death.

Both grandmas live in the same town. I absolutely have to see both grandmas in one trip, or I feel the one I haven't seen will die. It's a guilt I have to let go of. It's going to happen, and it's not going to be my fault.

So to both of my grandmas, I want to say I love you both. Maybe not in the same way, but you both have a special place in my heart for different reasons. I try to find comfort in the fact that I have brought some joy into their lives. I am constantly asking myself the questions,"Which one will die first?" Does it matter? It shouldn't. I can't write the future. Only God knows that outcome. All I can pray is that I did the best I could at making their lives as fulfilling as possible. I believe I have.

Under the Boardwalk

Long Time No See

I know I have been neglecting this blog, but things have actually been quite bearable in the OCD world, except for the facts that "Under the Boardwalk" has been playing in my head for a week and a half after Clay Aiken sang it on Celebrity Apprentice.

In other OCD news, I have been waiting for over a month now to receive a contract for a job which is hopefully going to start this summer. Notice I didn't say "patiently" waiting. Every time my "You've Got Mail" tone goes off on my phone, I say, "Please let it be her." But it's not. I have another position for Plan B, but this job is really my first choice.

And now, starting this week, my newest obsession is this: J and I went to Austin this weekend to see a friend of mine I just reconnected with after 30 years. We drove all the way from Houston. We didn't know anyone else there besides my friend and her husband (whom we had met once). We were very polite, talkative, had a nice visit with others, met their kids, didn't get drunk or rowdy. We did leave after 2 hrs (3-hr party), but we were not the first to leave. That evening on FB I thanked them for their hospitality, said we had a good time. I did not get a response. We play Words with Friends, so this week while we were playing I wrote, "Enjoyed the visit very much and meeting your precious kids." Still no response. Now I am obsessing that for some reason my friend is mad at me. I know it is not logical. Of course! OCD is anything but logical! But I worry and worry about it to the point that I am considering not playing the game anymore. It has taken my fun out of it and playing with others, as well. J said that she wouldn't play the game with me if we had done something to offend them.

What are your latest obsessions?

Dentist Appointment #2

A few weeks ago, I went to the dentist for the first time in five years. For two reasons. One, I haven't had dental insurance in three years; two, I am petrified of dentists. I don't like things in my mouth, for reasons I would rather not go into. Also, when I was 12 yrs old, I had a bad experience under "goofy gas." I was given way too much and I will never forget it.

So for my first visit I borrowed a Xanax from my sister-in-law. She told me to be sure to "only take half." I took one half before we left the apartment. Thirty minutes later, it wasn't kicking in, probably from nerves, so I took the other half. When I went inside and my phobia was relayed to the dentist, I was given gas for the x-rays and cleaning. Such a baby, I know. I swear, I didn't even feel the gas ever kick in, either. My gums were so angry by the end, the doctor told me I had to come back in a few weeks to have a light cleaning after the swelling went down, to make sure they hadn't missed something. My partner drove me home, wide awake. About an hour later, I fell asleep on the couch and didn't wake up for hours.

Yesterday I went back for my follow-up. I had to drive myself this time, so no Xanax and no goofy gas. It was a miserable experience but I did it! It felt good to get it over with, to know that something I had been dreading for so long was over. I am going to try my best to force myself to go back in four months so that the buildup never gets that bad again. Another good report: I have no cavities. Two teeth on the bottom front have some bone loss, so I have to work extra hard the next four months to help build them back up.

A Humble Plea to My Readers

I have started working on my novel again since I have some time off for the Thanksgiving holidays. I will be off for two weeks at Christmas, too! This is a great time of year for me to write because much of the abuse happened during the holidays. If you would be so kind, please "like" my Facebook page for Reverse Skate. I need all the encouragement I can get. Feel free to pass the link on to anyone you know who would be interested in a story regarding sexual abuse and/or OCD. My goal is to complete to book in 2012! Thanks.

GROSS

Saw these in the gift shop on our trip this weekend. Blech!