Tag Archives: Disability

Sink or Swim, I Thought Fat Floated

No surprise I am emotional today, I am every day. I have glimpses into light and peace. I did so as I studied and read the scriptures, and listened to uplifting music this morning. However, much like an egg on perfectly seasoned non-stick surface thrown into the air, so went my brief feelings of joy. Back into the abyss I sink.

I talked to my lawyer earlier this week and he said the disability judge is running fourteen months behind, so my case will not be heard until probably next December (2014). It is so frustrating. Confusing too, the emotions I feel. I am so terrified being in public right now, going to a hearing around people scares me. When I am scared and overly emotionally Little Hope seems to have the upper hand. It has been a HUGE fear getting in front of the judge and she come out. It will leave me unpresent not knowing what is going on or how to answer any questions. Not to mention if she pulls one of her fits.

Something I realized today, I beat myself up over things before they happen. I create elaborate scenarios in my head, stupid what if scenarios. Example in point. I let Daisy and Roscoe out in our fenced in backyard. While they did their business I figured I would do mine. (TMI moment coming) My stomach was bothering me and I stayed in there a few more minutes than I originally thought. I start panicking that Roscoe and Daisy have dug out of the yard. (Completely out of character for Roscoe, and Daisy too if she is not with Gage.) But it was real to me. I could not hear them in them playing outside the window. I just knew they were gone. Daisy has a chip, Roscoe does not. They are going to get hit by a car. Tracy is not home to help me find them. It is my fault that I ate the Oreos, because I know those and my Metformin mess my stomach up. I am not going to be able to live with myself. (I am trying to hurry so I can go find them, but my stomach would not cooperate.) By this point I was almost in tears and shaking. I hear the neighbors dogs barking, then my parents dogs barking. My fears are confirmed, they have escaped. Why else would all the neighborhood dogs bark. I have got to get out of this bathroom!! Why did I eat those stupid Oreos!! Those Oreos killed my dogs. Then I heard it, outside my bathroom window, inside the fence, Daisy’s beautiful bark. The same bark that annoys me at 3:00 in the morning.

My epiphany came as I walked to the door to let them in. I am always finding reason to hate me, real or imagined.

In therapy we have talked how I blame myself for all the bad things that have happened to me, part of it for me is to give any others involved a free pass. The deeper part is in most cases I feel like something I have done caused it.

I’m fat. I have heard I am fat because I would eat at my Granny’s and my home. I cry as I type that. In my mind being fat has been the root of many of my problems. For those who say lose the weight, let me say, if there is a diet, I have tried it. I have owned several exercise machines, walked, swam, danced, kickboxed, you name it. I would lose some, and breathe and gain weight again and the pounds I lost would bring family members and friends.

So again I am fat, it is my fault. I got that. It is there. I cannot shake it. Enter the teen years and puberty, I get something that “fat girls” get Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome. I’m fat. I caused it. My fault. Through the years I was told that I would have trouble getting pregnant. Lose weight they say, but PCOS makes you gain too. So being fat made me have something that makes me gain weight. Anyway, losing weight nor medication helped. Infertility=No Child because I am fat! My Fault! But wait, there’s more! I wanted a child so bad. My self-esteem so low I am easy prey. All the signs were there that the baby did not exist, but I believed her. Everyone hurt because of my dream and my gullibility. Then instead of my womb producing something beautiful, it produced something ugly, cancer. Cancer, that was my fault because I am fat. Now my heart is enlarged and thick, I have asthma, degenerative back disease, diabetes, and several other things…and why??? BECAUSE I AM FAT!!!

So why do I hate myself? I wonder?

Fat provides a cruel floating illusion, when in reality it acts as a millstone securely placed pulling you into the deepest your abyss.



Nightblind Hyundai Bulldozer Operator and the Princess

“Humor is infectious. It lightens burdens, inspires hope, connects us to others, increases our insight, keeps us grounded, focused, alert, and happy. Laughter is a universal language that stimulates both sides of the brain.” ~Happy Thoughts Travel Fast

I really like that quote. Her blog is fun and light hearted. The things I read did not have anthing off color, just good clean fun. If I missed anything naughty and I am recommending it, I apologize.

I have really been down in the dumps since I received my denial from disability. It’s not so much the actual denial as the wording. This evening I thought about it alot and I hate only sharing negativity, even if that is what I am feeling. I want to be true to what my blog is about and that is the healing journey, but only writing the negativity does not help me, or those of you that are struggling too.

Looking back on my site stats and the posts that seem to get the most hits are those that have humor in them. Today I decided that I would try to start writing a humorous memory each day. I know that it will be theraputic for me, and hopefully bring a smile to your faces too.

This memory does not start of humorous, but it is one of those moments that humor heals the soul.

Several years ago our family was going through a very difficult time. My cousin’s fiance had been killed in an automobile accident while on the way to visit her for lunch. She was beside herself in grief, as anyone would be. He was not only her fiance, but her brother’s best friend. We all loved him dearly, and he was a part of the family.

After his death she came to Utah, where I was living at the time, and where Luke would be laid to rest. She walked around like a zombie, a beautiful blonde hair blue eyed lifeless zombie. She was lost without her Luke. Her smile and laughter that would light up the darkest room was gone. it was as if she had been in the car with him, I think there were times she wished that she had been.

One evening we had gone somewhere, and I drove. Why nightblind queen drove, I am not sure, but I am glad I did. When we arrived back to her brother’s apartment complex I was basically trying to remember the turns by heart, I had just said I know there is a building up here somewhere, when everyone screamed, “Banana watchout for the building!” I slammed on brakes just in time. I was about to plow straight into it. I was inches away from pulling into someone’s livingroom.

Then we heard it. Laughter, beautiful laughter. She could not stop. I do not remember how long she laughed that night.

It has been 15-16 years since that time. That beautiful cousin met another prince, married, and they lived happily ever after. Almost everytime we talk she reminds me of the time I nearly bulldozed the apartment complex with my Hyundai Elantra, but in doing so I reminded her how to laugh for the first time since Luke’s death.

Sometimes being nightblind is a blessing I suppose.


I Once Loved Roller Coasters


This morning is some better. I am still very anxious and depressed, but not teetering. I realize how many kind and good people read my blog, and they are going through a lot right now too. “Our community” helps one another when we are down. Kind words of encouragement, the reminder of the beautiful things in life and in me, virtual hugs, and a simple “like” they let me know someone is listening and cares.

I have my amazing family. I know the are weary. It is hard having someone you love with severe emotional problems. I could charter a club, I have been on the other side. Living daily, not knowing what to say or do, fear of triggering them. Fear of the backlash. Not knowing if the will be there in the morning physically or emotionally. Holding your tongue and swallowing your emotions, sacrificing your own mental health while they work on theirs. Crying more than laughing. I hate that I put anyone through this roller coaster.

I’m Trying So Hard, But Failing Miserably

So I had this incredibly funny post this morning, after talking to the the disability board.  I have tried to stay positive today, THEN I read the letter.  I am so upset, and feel like my emotions are out of control.  Starting at step one.  

The letter said, “You may be depressed at times…”  Depressed at times.  What does that feel like?  I would love to be depressed “at times”!!  No, I do not have the privilege of being depressed at times.  It is a daily battle for me.  What was my first instinct when I read that?  Go grab my medicines and take them, all of them!!  Depressed at times!!  

I am so tired of living through all of this crap, having to fight for a moment of peace and solace.  Trying to find things that make me happy.  Trying to remember where I have been and when I have been there.  I am so sick of it.  There has to be an end to this.  

I am so so sorry for laying this out there, but I promised when I started this blog, I would share the good and the bad.  This is a really bad day for me.  I get knocked down so easily, and kicked and kicked and kicked.

Maybe my problem is because I fight suicide so hard.  I fight it with all my might.  I see it as something that hurts those I love, maybe that was wrong to tell the mental health professionals.  Does that make me not want to do it, not even?  Each time I get closer to that fine line that separates sanity and insanity, in those horrible moments that I have to fight.  I sometimes wonder if they would not be better off without me here, their pain would hurt, but they would not have to deal with me day in and day out.  I hate being crazy.

That’s okay, “I am only depressed at times.” No problem.  It is not killing my family every time I call and tell them that I have those feelings.  It does not kill them every time they see “her” come out, because it is only “at times”.  

Depression was not the only thing on the claim either: migraines, diabetes, high blood pressure, constant anemia, and asthma.  That is okay, the government caters to who they want to cater to.  They want to kill the rest of us off.  I suppose I am on that kill off list.

I am sorry for getting political, but I am extremely upset right now.  My lawyer is appealing the case.  Most cases are denied the first time, but those words hurt me so bad.  Until then, I will continue with my therapy, stay in my ball, and hope that I can make it through one moment at a time, cause one moment seems like a very long time.



The Irreverent Fart–A Girl with Low Blood Sugar, The Temple, and A Fiber Bar–Awful Combination

Daily Prompt: Ha Ha Ha
Tell us a joke! Knock-knock joke, long story with a unexpected punchline, great zinger — all jokes are welcome!

I am very grateful for this prompt today. I needed something to laugh about. I found out my disability was denied. I could go off on the joke of how the inconsistencies are in society, but I will not. I will tell a really funny story from my life.

The year 1996, I had just recovered from a nasty stomach bug, and my friends and I decided to go to the Mt. Timpanogas Temple. My good friend Trish and I decided to do participate in proxy sealings. Families can submit names and bring them to the temple and have them sealed by Priesthood authority for time and all eternity. It is a beautiful promise, blessing, and ceremony. As I knelt at the altar in proxy for a daughter I started to get shaky, the room to narrow to a black pinhole, and voices became distant. Next thing I remember was my feet propped up on the altar cushion with a washcloth on my forehead, little old white haired lady fanning me, and Trish saying, “Banana are you okay”? As she giggled with a worried look on her face.

We were able to get me to a chair and I sipped some cool water as they finished the next few sealings. I was still shaking so I excused myself, and went and sat on a couch outside the hallway. This sweet little lady came and said, “Maybe it is your blood sugar”. After I told her that I had recently gotten over the bug, she disappeared for a few minutes and came back with a chocolate brownie. She said that she had this in her purse and that it should help stablize my blood sugar. I noticed the brownie had a chalky texture and the flavor alittle off, but I thought it was because my taste buds were off from being sick. I learned quickly, how wrong I was.

I ate it and drank some more cool water and before long I was feeling a good bit better. Rather than disturbing the sealing session again, she asked if we wanted to go sit in the Celestial Room a while. The Celestial Room is beautiful, and amazing. It is very quiet and reverent. You can sit and pray and talk with your Father in Heaven in quiet reflection. No one disturbs you or your peaceful thoughts. To me it is Heaven on Earth. I often call it Heavenly Father’s living room.

This is a picture from the open house brochure of the Mt. Timpanogas Celestial Room.


So Trish and I went. We sat on the couch in the middle of the room. There were only two others in the room, one brother by the glass window and one sister standing by the door. It was perfectly quiet and peaceful. I prayed in gratitude for those that helped me earlier and for the little lady having a brownie, and then…blurp. A bubble in my stomach. I opened my eyes and peaked over at Trish to see if she had heard it. Her eyes were still closed, good.

Blurp, blurp, blurp. My goodness I thought, something is going on in my stomach. I imagined it to be like one of those science fair experiments with the vinegar and baking soda. Please stay down. Please stay down! WRONG REQUEST!

Because down it went, with turbo force. I grabbed Trish’s arm. She had heard it that time. “OH my word, stomach cramp!”. I whisper yelled. Wide eyed she giggled. I bent over in pain. RIPPPPP!

When you toot in the Celestial Room and their are only four people in there the couch does not muffle it. “BANANA!!!” She whisper yelled.

I jumped up tears from laughing and pain in my eyes. RIPPPPP!!!! The echo bounces around the room. I know I have just scourched Trish’s eye brows off. Looking forward the door and the little lady waiting beside it seem miles away. Still I have to get out of this room. There is no where to hide. I feel bad for disturbing the reverence and peace. RIPPPPP!!!

I start taking steps Toot! Toot! Toot! Toot! Each step a toot, the faster I stepped the faster they came, then another horribe cramp. I grabbed my stomach and doubled over RRRRIIIIIIIIPPPPPPPP!!!!! I am not sure, but I bet the chandlier probably rattled. I am laughing and crying, in this doubled over position I can see the brother by the window, he is smirking trying to keep his composure. Trish is still on the couch pretending to pray, but her shoulders jumping up and down, give it away that she is really just trying to compose herself.

Then I hear it, the rustle of the curtains. An endowment session is about to come in. Oh my goodness. I have got to get out of here.

I feel her little hands on my shoulder, the little old matron at the door. “Sister, are you okay”? I lifted my head and looked up sweat dripping from my noise. “I am not sure. Seems that I have an upset stomach”. I stood up. RIPPPPPP!

“Do you think you can make it to the bathroom? I’ll show you where it is.”

And together we walked Toot. Toot. Toot. Toot. Toot. Toot.

Self Doubt and Prayer

I have been plagued with alot of self doubt last night and this morning. The Therapist appointment yesterday was a mental evaluation for disability. With all going on in my mind, I do not know if I expressed and verbalized to him the extent of my anxiety and depression. That is one of the most frustrating parts of who I am today, not remembering my conversations like I once did. I remember parts of them, but I once could give you a play by play, no more.

I know what is done is done, and I cannot go back to the interview, but the anxiety is going to eat me alive wondering if I said enough of the things I needed to say for him to get an accurate picture of what I am going through.

My prayer is that with my other health problems added to his report, the reviewing committee will rule in my favor. I pray they will. That will help some of my stress, allowing me to focus more on healing or at the very least developing some coping skills so I can live with my issues. I know that most claims are usually denied the first time, but I still pray for that miracle in my behalf. If you are a faith filled person, and feel inclined, I ask that your prayers be joined with mine for this blessing.

I humbly thank you in advance, and please if you have a special prayer request, leave a comment or email me, I will add my prayers to yours. I know our prayers are heard. Even if you ask me or the other followers to pray for an unspoken request in your behalf. Heavenly Father knows that need, and we will pray for that unspoken need.

I am so very grateful for each of you that read my blog, those that comment, and those that do not. It gives me strength knowing that my voice is being heard. I know you are seeing the good, the bad, and the ugly, and I appreciate you sticking with me.