When I was in prison I spent 2 birthdays and 2 Christmases behind bars. The first was only a month after my arrival, my birthday was only 3 weeks after getting there- I was not even to general population yet. 23 hour lockdown on my birthday. I was still terrified of what my future held in this place. Sad that my girls were not with me. Feeling 100% alone and sorry for myself! The anger was still there- anger for my husband (if I have to be in prison it should be for murdering him, right? not for something he did!) Angry at myself for being so blind and not recognizing what had happened to get me there. But most of what I felt was fear and self pity.
A few days after my birthday I was called to "roll up." I was being moved, my 30 days were up and I was going to the real world of prison- general population. By Christmas I was settled in to a cell, with a roomie who eventually became one of my dearest friends. The cell was almost 'homie', she had pictures on the walls, a gorgeous afghan on her top bunk... and she welcomed me with a smile. So she gave me the grand tour of our 6x10ish suite... I remember the last thing she showed me was our Christmas tree. She had created a tree by zigzagging green yard down the wall, and on the branches she had crocheted small ornaments. That made me smile, but the smile quickly broke into tears and uncontrolled sobbing! Was this what I had come to? A year ago I had the most amazing tree I had ever had in my life! With family and friends and... oh I was miserable over this! But each day, as I learned the routine of life there, and met a couple people- I was very afraid to be social! These were like killers and stuff, right? I'm better than that! Christmas came and I saw women exchanging gifts, there were cakes and treats made out of things that could be purchased thru the commissary, there was laughter and joy. I spent most of my day that day in my cell, still battling how I felt about where I was and how I was going to deal with it.
Fast forward one year... I knew when I was getting out of this place, I had friends, I had people who trusted me- I was even looked up to by many because I worked at the school teaching and was a literacy tutor. I found God by this time. I had my divorce done, I was... happy! My birthday was celebrated! Not just by me, my friends made me feel amazing! People made cards for me and I decorated my room with them (we really didn't call it a cell, it was out room, our suite- I mean, we were, after all, at Utah's finest gated community- so why not have a suite?)
Then came Christmas- our tree was even more fabulous than the previous year! We were allowed a party- they even brought in the television to have a movie night. A special dinner was prepared by the kitchen crew. I spent little time in my room that day, not when I was allowed to not be there! I had happiness to spread, people to cheer up as I had been cheered up a year before.
People wonder why I am not a big fan of the holidays anymore. Draper was a big reminder for me of what Christmas is really supposed to be about. Love, friendships, family... time. It's not about money and gifts and faking a smile to please that dysfunctional family! The best times ever are spent with people who don't judge, who have been in a similar situation, who have no expectations. Christmas isn't about a big tree or a meal that cost way too much and makes you miserable the rest of the day. It's not about opening gifts that you didn't really want in the first place.
As I have said before, you have no idea what true freedom is until you have had it taken from you. I am thankful to be another year older this week, to see another Christmas with my daughter (and husband and future son in law), but celebrating just isn't my thing. I would rather donate every dime spent on me for my birthday and Christmas to the prison library so they can get new books!
Thanx for reading my thoughts, I truly hope that at some point someone can find the help you are searching for thru my experiences and views. Love and Light.
My Love
Sunday, December 13, 2015
Tuesday, December 1, 2015
Family Closeness
Last week a member of my husbands family passed away. I had met her only a few times, but she always remembered me and asked about my health- always thought of others before her own troubles. She way so happy and full of life.
At the service yesterday it was amazing to me to see the love for this woman. Friends and family, coworkers and students- telling stories of her love and caring, funny stories and happy memories. Each of her children spoke- each cried and laughed...
Then as we left I saw her daughter completely break down. This is when I realized what a true family bond is really like. She collapsed in her dads arms- who was at his own breaking point, and cried "please don't ever leave me."
I have never had that type of relationship with my mother, that I would be in the state she was in. My family never had the bond this family has. My first thought was that I am glad I don't have that closeness- I don't want to ever feel that pain that I saw in her... But that is the way we are supposed to feel! The family bond, the relationship between a mother and her daughter- these are things that can't compare to anything, right?
My family was never really close like that. We didn't share emotions or feelings. Crying, showing love or sadness or true happiness- not things I grew up with. I have mixed feelings and opinions on that. I mean, there will be less pain when my parents do pass away, less emotions, less tears... if any. But I realize I missed out on so much!
When I was young, there were obvious differences between my mothers side of the family and my dads side. My mothers family was cold and pretty much emotionless. My dads family was once a very close and loving family, and the people in that family who I am still in contact with are still that way with their own families, but our big Smith family 'unit' is no longer.
I thought about what I would say if I spoke at each of my own parents funerals... I truly don't have any of those 'moments' with my mother. She was for the most part emotionless and cold. Not the mom most girls grow up with. My dad? well, everyone knows he was my best friend and mentor for years. I have a few of those 'moments', but still... nothing like what most people have.
If you have ever read "the dash", this reminds me of my dad. It isn't about the years you live, its about what you do during the time inbetween. My dad will be remembered by many with smiles and laughter. My mother? I don't know who will speak at her funeral. I can say it won't be me, and I won't be there to witness who does.
Back to my original thoughts... I feel I missed out as a child, as a young adult, and even know. My family is/was nothing like the family I am trying to have with my daughter. Nothing like the closeness my husband has with his family- altho he and his brother are not real close, mom holds the family close and cherishes every one of us. And I know how much my husband misses his dad.
I think I am lucky to live in a place where family is so important. Families stay close. My husband has so many aunts, uncles, cousins... and most of them stay in touch! Not directly calling and getting together, but family get togethers happen a couple times a year, and everyone keeps up on each other thru social media. I love that! I feel lucky to be a part of such an incredible family! I think every family member was at the service to show their love and support for Troys cousin and his kids, no matter what! They took the time off work, they traveled from out of state- they are FAMILY defined.
McCann clan- thank you for giving me back my faith in family.
At the service yesterday it was amazing to me to see the love for this woman. Friends and family, coworkers and students- telling stories of her love and caring, funny stories and happy memories. Each of her children spoke- each cried and laughed...
Then as we left I saw her daughter completely break down. This is when I realized what a true family bond is really like. She collapsed in her dads arms- who was at his own breaking point, and cried "please don't ever leave me."
I have never had that type of relationship with my mother, that I would be in the state she was in. My family never had the bond this family has. My first thought was that I am glad I don't have that closeness- I don't want to ever feel that pain that I saw in her... But that is the way we are supposed to feel! The family bond, the relationship between a mother and her daughter- these are things that can't compare to anything, right?
My family was never really close like that. We didn't share emotions or feelings. Crying, showing love or sadness or true happiness- not things I grew up with. I have mixed feelings and opinions on that. I mean, there will be less pain when my parents do pass away, less emotions, less tears... if any. But I realize I missed out on so much!
When I was young, there were obvious differences between my mothers side of the family and my dads side. My mothers family was cold and pretty much emotionless. My dads family was once a very close and loving family, and the people in that family who I am still in contact with are still that way with their own families, but our big Smith family 'unit' is no longer.
I thought about what I would say if I spoke at each of my own parents funerals... I truly don't have any of those 'moments' with my mother. She was for the most part emotionless and cold. Not the mom most girls grow up with. My dad? well, everyone knows he was my best friend and mentor for years. I have a few of those 'moments', but still... nothing like what most people have.
If you have ever read "the dash", this reminds me of my dad. It isn't about the years you live, its about what you do during the time inbetween. My dad will be remembered by many with smiles and laughter. My mother? I don't know who will speak at her funeral. I can say it won't be me, and I won't be there to witness who does.
Back to my original thoughts... I feel I missed out as a child, as a young adult, and even know. My family is/was nothing like the family I am trying to have with my daughter. Nothing like the closeness my husband has with his family- altho he and his brother are not real close, mom holds the family close and cherishes every one of us. And I know how much my husband misses his dad.
I think I am lucky to live in a place where family is so important. Families stay close. My husband has so many aunts, uncles, cousins... and most of them stay in touch! Not directly calling and getting together, but family get togethers happen a couple times a year, and everyone keeps up on each other thru social media. I love that! I feel lucky to be a part of such an incredible family! I think every family member was at the service to show their love and support for Troys cousin and his kids, no matter what! They took the time off work, they traveled from out of state- they are FAMILY defined.
McCann clan- thank you for giving me back my faith in family.
Wednesday, November 18, 2015
November 18... the day that broke me
Ten years ago, November 18, 2005... it was a Friday. After months of what in my mind was hell- I learned what hell truly was. I sat in the courtroom for what seemed like hours- thinking of my daughter who was in foster care, and my other daughter whose dad had taken her from my life. I was thinking about where I was going for lunch. I was thinking about all the stuff I had been thru since March that brought me to where I was that day...
I heard my name, my attorney motioned for me to join him at this little podium in front of the judge. I handed my phone and my wallet to my best friend and brother, gave my boyfriend a peck, and went to stand at my lawyers side. No big deal, I read the pre-sentence report, my lawyer explained what is going to happen... I make my plea, I say yes your honor and no sir and be really polite, then it's done, he tells me a sentence, and I go to lunch.
Nope! That judge tore me down to nothing. I honestly didn't think it was possible for me to feel any more like a failure as a parent or a person than I already did, I didn't think anyone could make me feel more guilt than I already had. I was a mess. In my head just begging him to tell me the sentence so I could leave that room, leave that court, and leave that chapter of my life behind me- moving forward to fix what I had been a part of destroying, rebuild my family with the pieces we had left- and make it stronger. I listened, with teats running down my face for what seemed to be forever... and then he was ready to announce my sentence.
First reaction- he was wrong! Didn't he see the pre sentence recommendation? I collapsed, this wasn't happening to me!!! Then this officer comes and puts handcuffs on me and takes me thru a door. What the hell was happening? How was this happening? Wait... I need my lawyer! No. But what happens now? I need my meds. I need... omg my meds! After a half hour- when I finally started to breathe and calm down a bit, the officer came to me. He could see how freaked out I was, I was not the typical female heading off to prison. He asked about my meds, then agreed to put the cuffs in front rather than behind my back. He explained I would be transported to the jail for a few days and they would make sure I got my medications, then I would be transferred to the prison a few days later.
I was so scared. So confused. So lost. I sat in a holding cell for ?? hours, freezing and trying to figure out what went so wrong. I was finally taken in a van with 3 other women to the jail. I had done a 'book and release' a few months prior when charges were originally filed, so apparently my intake process was very short. Another holding cell for a while, then I got sent to a unit, and a cell.
So much confusion and fear. All these women around me were like real criminals! Or junkies. I was terrified. I needed to talk to someone- anyone! I called my parents... "don't they have a phone you can call me from that doesn't charge me for a collect call?" Yes, that is what I got from my mother. Screw this, I'm on my own.
This first night in jail... I was terrified I wouldn't get my meds, I was so freaked out about having a seizure there! I was scared of these girls who were going thru withdrawls- I new nothing about that. I would see someone walk by and wonder why she was there. I spent most of that first night in my cell, hiding from the reality I was in.
That was the beginning of a very long 5 days in jail, followed by 15 months of prison. The most eye opening, educational experience of my life... and for that I am thankful. But that day... November 18... ten years ago... it truly broke me. Every part of the day just broke me down more and more... each new experience that day- was a new life experience. Each time I felt I couldn't be broken any more- I got shattered.
A year prior to this I was at the top of my life! I had my home, my 2 children, my pets, I was making more money than I ever imagined I could- and it was all home based so I could be a mom. And this night I laid curled in a ball crying, on an uncomfortable bed, freezing, locked in a small room with some girl I thought was dying- turns out she was coming down off heroin, but I had no idea at the time.
Life can change in an instant. Even without you knowing what happened. I do my best to live every day to its fullest, I find the best in every situation and every person I encounter. I try so hard to put the past behind me and live for today- and what I am learning- to live for tomorrow. Last year I did a little better than years past, but it has been ten years. Ten years since I lost my children, since I lost my careers, ten years since I learned who really loves me and who are the judgemental ones.
Ten years since I lost my freedom? NO! That was what I thought for a very long time, but it actually is not at all how I see it today. That, tho, is subject for another post.
Thank you, for taking time to read my thoughts and stories... it helps me so much to have a place to release these things.
I heard my name, my attorney motioned for me to join him at this little podium in front of the judge. I handed my phone and my wallet to my best friend and brother, gave my boyfriend a peck, and went to stand at my lawyers side. No big deal, I read the pre-sentence report, my lawyer explained what is going to happen... I make my plea, I say yes your honor and no sir and be really polite, then it's done, he tells me a sentence, and I go to lunch.
Nope! That judge tore me down to nothing. I honestly didn't think it was possible for me to feel any more like a failure as a parent or a person than I already did, I didn't think anyone could make me feel more guilt than I already had. I was a mess. In my head just begging him to tell me the sentence so I could leave that room, leave that court, and leave that chapter of my life behind me- moving forward to fix what I had been a part of destroying, rebuild my family with the pieces we had left- and make it stronger. I listened, with teats running down my face for what seemed to be forever... and then he was ready to announce my sentence.
First reaction- he was wrong! Didn't he see the pre sentence recommendation? I collapsed, this wasn't happening to me!!! Then this officer comes and puts handcuffs on me and takes me thru a door. What the hell was happening? How was this happening? Wait... I need my lawyer! No. But what happens now? I need my meds. I need... omg my meds! After a half hour- when I finally started to breathe and calm down a bit, the officer came to me. He could see how freaked out I was, I was not the typical female heading off to prison. He asked about my meds, then agreed to put the cuffs in front rather than behind my back. He explained I would be transported to the jail for a few days and they would make sure I got my medications, then I would be transferred to the prison a few days later.
I was so scared. So confused. So lost. I sat in a holding cell for ?? hours, freezing and trying to figure out what went so wrong. I was finally taken in a van with 3 other women to the jail. I had done a 'book and release' a few months prior when charges were originally filed, so apparently my intake process was very short. Another holding cell for a while, then I got sent to a unit, and a cell.
So much confusion and fear. All these women around me were like real criminals! Or junkies. I was terrified. I needed to talk to someone- anyone! I called my parents... "don't they have a phone you can call me from that doesn't charge me for a collect call?" Yes, that is what I got from my mother. Screw this, I'm on my own.
This first night in jail... I was terrified I wouldn't get my meds, I was so freaked out about having a seizure there! I was scared of these girls who were going thru withdrawls- I new nothing about that. I would see someone walk by and wonder why she was there. I spent most of that first night in my cell, hiding from the reality I was in.
That was the beginning of a very long 5 days in jail, followed by 15 months of prison. The most eye opening, educational experience of my life... and for that I am thankful. But that day... November 18... ten years ago... it truly broke me. Every part of the day just broke me down more and more... each new experience that day- was a new life experience. Each time I felt I couldn't be broken any more- I got shattered.
A year prior to this I was at the top of my life! I had my home, my 2 children, my pets, I was making more money than I ever imagined I could- and it was all home based so I could be a mom. And this night I laid curled in a ball crying, on an uncomfortable bed, freezing, locked in a small room with some girl I thought was dying- turns out she was coming down off heroin, but I had no idea at the time.
Life can change in an instant. Even without you knowing what happened. I do my best to live every day to its fullest, I find the best in every situation and every person I encounter. I try so hard to put the past behind me and live for today- and what I am learning- to live for tomorrow. Last year I did a little better than years past, but it has been ten years. Ten years since I lost my children, since I lost my careers, ten years since I learned who really loves me and who are the judgemental ones.
Ten years since I lost my freedom? NO! That was what I thought for a very long time, but it actually is not at all how I see it today. That, tho, is subject for another post.
Thank you, for taking time to read my thoughts and stories... it helps me so much to have a place to release these things.
Sunday, November 15, 2015
Attitude
As I watch everything going on in the world, I sit back and realize I have more important things to focus my energy on. Whether it is a Starbucks cup or a terrorist attack in France... I personally cant change it, and honestly, my problems are bigger to me than these kind of things.
I sit here watching my life as I've known it, fall apart a little bit more every day. I keep the best possible attitude I can, but behind the screen of my tablet- I am filled with sadness and fear. My positive attitude processes ideas and things I want to do to change this, but there are real things stopping me. But I know once I get past these road blocks- there will be no stopping me! I have goals, I have dreams... nothing and no one will stop that!
I believe in myself not because I matter, but because of my why... My daughter is my life. Everything I do, is with her in mind. People are selfish, but when you become a mother, and have to fight for that child to have what she needs- not what she wants, you learn what sacrifice really is. Not everyone in my life gets this. Yes, I will do whatever I have to do, to be sure my kids have a roof over their heads, and food on their plates. If a person can't or won't put their kids needs ahead of their own, they have no business being a parent.
As I have mentioned, this is a miserable depressing month for me, but I am staying positive that I can find some good. I'm playing a waiting game with doctors and facing life changing surgery... my attitude is what is getting me thru these things. I have so much I want and need to do- for myself, for my daughter... but I can't do a thing until after the waiting, after the surgery. But the outlook for my future is amazing! I am maintaining an incredible attitude because of that.
Tears every day- yes. wanting to run away from home- yes. wishing things were different- yes!
I feel so alone.
I sit here watching my life as I've known it, fall apart a little bit more every day. I keep the best possible attitude I can, but behind the screen of my tablet- I am filled with sadness and fear. My positive attitude processes ideas and things I want to do to change this, but there are real things stopping me. But I know once I get past these road blocks- there will be no stopping me! I have goals, I have dreams... nothing and no one will stop that!
I believe in myself not because I matter, but because of my why... My daughter is my life. Everything I do, is with her in mind. People are selfish, but when you become a mother, and have to fight for that child to have what she needs- not what she wants, you learn what sacrifice really is. Not everyone in my life gets this. Yes, I will do whatever I have to do, to be sure my kids have a roof over their heads, and food on their plates. If a person can't or won't put their kids needs ahead of their own, they have no business being a parent.
As I have mentioned, this is a miserable depressing month for me, but I am staying positive that I can find some good. I'm playing a waiting game with doctors and facing life changing surgery... my attitude is what is getting me thru these things. I have so much I want and need to do- for myself, for my daughter... but I can't do a thing until after the waiting, after the surgery. But the outlook for my future is amazing! I am maintaining an incredible attitude because of that.
Tears every day- yes. wanting to run away from home- yes. wishing things were different- yes!
I feel so alone.
Wednesday, November 4, 2015
Answers...
Today I saw my doctor, I recently had some tests done- tests I have had dozens of times over the past 30 years. Never any answers, never a why. So I went into today not expecting any answers. What came next was shocking... the MRI actually showed something. Then we talked about it, and so much came back. I am still trying to process everything said, and the things going thru my head today...
I remember the night so well. I was 12, it was November (yes, more reason to love this month!). I was with my parents traveling to Arizona, grandmas house for Thanksgiving. It was late, we left Salt Lake in the afternoon and had just crossed into Arizona. The weather was off and on snowing. I remember my mother complaining about the way dad was driving... too fast considering it was so dark... but we were on dry roads and we were all so tired- we just wanted to get to Grandmas where it was warm and safe. I was sleepy, I laid down in the back seat, my head on the drivers side. I don't know how long I had been asleep, but I remember what woke me. My mother screamed, the car stopped- like we hit something, then my head got slammed thru the back door. Things are a bit fuzzyas far as the time line. I remember my mother was screaming and freaking out, I saw blood on her face. Dad was trying to calm her down and get her to get out of the car... he couldn't get his door open and needed to get to me. I felt blood, or maybe rain... probably both. the window above my head was shattered, dad told me not to move but was asking me to talk to him. I remember dad starting the car and telling mom to get in... next thing I remember was waking up at grandmas. My aunt and mom were picking glass out of my hair, my back and my head hurt a lot, but Thanksgiving went on as planned. When I looked at the car, a VW Rabbit, the hood looked like someone had taken a prybar to the front to open it, and there was a tear in the metal. the entire driver side was smashed in, the mirror was gone. I remember trying to figure out what happened to me and I looked in the back seat... the door, pretty much the entire side of the car, had been smashed in more than 4 inches... I fell asleep with a jacket against the door to cushion my head- I was against that door.
So what was it? we came across a deer or elk or something, elk probably, that believed it was bigger than our car. He stood his ground to take us on~ my dads version of what he saw! We hit the animal head on, the antlers caught in the hood and his body swung around and slammed the side of the car.
I was never seen by a doctor, but I was hurt. I had a concussion, and I remember weeks of pulling bits of glass out of my head! I'm pretty sure all three of us should have gone to an emergency room, but I was raised by a mother who believed if you aren't dying- you don't need a doctor.
About 2 years after that is when my seizures started. My first neurologist asked if I had ever had a traumatic experience during the time frame of when the seizures started- but I never thought about that accident, it never came up.
So fast forward to today. My MRI shows scar tissue on my left temporal lobe. He asked if I had any head injuries. That is when it finally clicked about the accident. Asked if there was anything else... well, the abusive first marriage- but that was 5 years after the seizures started. He wrote it down in my file, that was weird.
So we discussed how this happens, the new medications, and the possibility of further treatment. Surgery. Not the VNS, but brain surgery. I'm so freaked out about that!
I walked out of the doctors office holding tight to Troys hand, staring off, confused, overwhelmed, happy, scared, tears streaming down my face. So many thoughts to process. Happy and shocked to have answers after all these years, upset that I didn't put these things together years ago, was this my dads fault? Scared about the idea of surgery, yet, excited about the possibility of never having another seizure ever again! Would it have stopped eventually if I had never married my first husband? I'm still processing.
Thank God I have friends I can turn to. My best friend got a text from me before we even left the parking lot. He is supportive and happy for me that I finally got answers, and he supports the surgery option- I trust his input on things like this. Also a friend who is an RN and a mother of a son with severe seizure disorder. I texted her with my results, and she called. She was able to explain some medical stuff in terms that I could understand. She helped me understand why the abuse is relevant, she explained how these surgeries go... she really did help put my mind at ease a bit.
I had to explain this to my daughter. I wanted to talk to one person about it all, but I had to wipe away the tears and pain on a smile... I had a wedding to go to, and my issues were not going to interfere with my friends daughters big day!
I know this is going to take a while for me to get thru. The decision to have or not to have surgery is not an easy one.
But for now... I am happy to have answers! I am thankful there is a way to treat it permanently. I am grateful for modern technology making this finally appear after years of 'normal' results. I am seeing a light that I never thought I would see! How amazing would it be if I could really go out and do some of those things on my bucket list without fear of having a seizure and killing myself!
Ya know what? LIFE IS AMAZING!
I remember the night so well. I was 12, it was November (yes, more reason to love this month!). I was with my parents traveling to Arizona, grandmas house for Thanksgiving. It was late, we left Salt Lake in the afternoon and had just crossed into Arizona. The weather was off and on snowing. I remember my mother complaining about the way dad was driving... too fast considering it was so dark... but we were on dry roads and we were all so tired- we just wanted to get to Grandmas where it was warm and safe. I was sleepy, I laid down in the back seat, my head on the drivers side. I don't know how long I had been asleep, but I remember what woke me. My mother screamed, the car stopped- like we hit something, then my head got slammed thru the back door. Things are a bit fuzzyas far as the time line. I remember my mother was screaming and freaking out, I saw blood on her face. Dad was trying to calm her down and get her to get out of the car... he couldn't get his door open and needed to get to me. I felt blood, or maybe rain... probably both. the window above my head was shattered, dad told me not to move but was asking me to talk to him. I remember dad starting the car and telling mom to get in... next thing I remember was waking up at grandmas. My aunt and mom were picking glass out of my hair, my back and my head hurt a lot, but Thanksgiving went on as planned. When I looked at the car, a VW Rabbit, the hood looked like someone had taken a prybar to the front to open it, and there was a tear in the metal. the entire driver side was smashed in, the mirror was gone. I remember trying to figure out what happened to me and I looked in the back seat... the door, pretty much the entire side of the car, had been smashed in more than 4 inches... I fell asleep with a jacket against the door to cushion my head- I was against that door.
So what was it? we came across a deer or elk or something, elk probably, that believed it was bigger than our car. He stood his ground to take us on~ my dads version of what he saw! We hit the animal head on, the antlers caught in the hood and his body swung around and slammed the side of the car.
I was never seen by a doctor, but I was hurt. I had a concussion, and I remember weeks of pulling bits of glass out of my head! I'm pretty sure all three of us should have gone to an emergency room, but I was raised by a mother who believed if you aren't dying- you don't need a doctor.
About 2 years after that is when my seizures started. My first neurologist asked if I had ever had a traumatic experience during the time frame of when the seizures started- but I never thought about that accident, it never came up.
So fast forward to today. My MRI shows scar tissue on my left temporal lobe. He asked if I had any head injuries. That is when it finally clicked about the accident. Asked if there was anything else... well, the abusive first marriage- but that was 5 years after the seizures started. He wrote it down in my file, that was weird.
So we discussed how this happens, the new medications, and the possibility of further treatment. Surgery. Not the VNS, but brain surgery. I'm so freaked out about that!
I walked out of the doctors office holding tight to Troys hand, staring off, confused, overwhelmed, happy, scared, tears streaming down my face. So many thoughts to process. Happy and shocked to have answers after all these years, upset that I didn't put these things together years ago, was this my dads fault? Scared about the idea of surgery, yet, excited about the possibility of never having another seizure ever again! Would it have stopped eventually if I had never married my first husband? I'm still processing.
Thank God I have friends I can turn to. My best friend got a text from me before we even left the parking lot. He is supportive and happy for me that I finally got answers, and he supports the surgery option- I trust his input on things like this. Also a friend who is an RN and a mother of a son with severe seizure disorder. I texted her with my results, and she called. She was able to explain some medical stuff in terms that I could understand. She helped me understand why the abuse is relevant, she explained how these surgeries go... she really did help put my mind at ease a bit.
I had to explain this to my daughter. I wanted to talk to one person about it all, but I had to wipe away the tears and pain on a smile... I had a wedding to go to, and my issues were not going to interfere with my friends daughters big day!
I know this is going to take a while for me to get thru. The decision to have or not to have surgery is not an easy one.
But for now... I am happy to have answers! I am thankful there is a way to treat it permanently. I am grateful for modern technology making this finally appear after years of 'normal' results. I am seeing a light that I never thought I would see! How amazing would it be if I could really go out and do some of those things on my bucket list without fear of having a seizure and killing myself!
Ya know what? LIFE IS AMAZING!
Tuesday, November 3, 2015
Wake Me Up When November Ends
November is so many things to me! One thing is Epilepsy Awareness month. When I was 14ish, I started having seizures. But I had no idea at the time, what was happening. It wasn't until I was 17, about to be a senior in high school, that I finally had a seizure in front of someone... a lot of someones, actually! I was in a grocery store on a Friday afternoon. I was taken to a hospital via ambulance, and was finally diagnosed. I had no idea what epilepsy was, why it was happening to me, what it meant for my future- my life! I had a lot to learn! And for years to follow, I continued to learn more about this disease. And the fact that it was such a taboo subject for the rest of society... people had no idea what it was, people made fun of others who had seizures. I was scared to tell people I suffered from it. I've come a long way since then. Today it is one of the first things I tell people about myself, I educate my friends on what to do if I have a seizure, and I help others understand what it is like to live with epilepsy and to experience a seizure. Epilepsy awareness is important to me.
November also represents a time of family loss. Not just death, but loss of what once was. November was the last time I saw my grandfather before he passed in December. It is also the last time I saw my favorite uncle before his heart attack that put him on life support, ultimately ending his life on Christmas day. (the family joked that I was no longer allowed at family gatherings at that point, because someone always dies after I visit.) That was the last year my family was truly a family. True colors started to show thru, the troubles we hid behind fake smiles- finally broke free... We all have dysfunctional families, but my family chose to all go separate ways for the most part. I have some incredible memories of Thanksgiving with family as a child, and that last year prior to my dads brother passing when my entire family was here, together. They are good but painful memories. November was the last time I saw my youngest daughter, it has been ten years since I have seen her. I hold on the fact that one day I will be reunited with her and we can build some kind of relationship, friendship... but for now her smile is in my eyes when I close them.
November- the month I was sentenced to spend time in prison, I spent 4 days in jail, and was transferred to the prison 2 days prior to Thanksgiving. I didn't eat for days! Have you seen prison food? They brought us our 'holiday meal' and I fell apart! I swore I would never eat another Thanksgiving feast again.
November is also the month a dear friend who suffered from PTSD took the life of his girlfriend and then his own life. As I mourned this loss, I heard 2 things about this incident... first- he was a drunk, abusive man who murdered a 911 operator. second- from friends, I could be the one he killed, I should be glad I got away from him. Why do I still struggle with this loss? Nobody understood him, no one recognized he suffered every day. He drank because he was fighting so many demons from HIS past. That woman he killed, no, she didn't deserve that, but no one acknowledged the fact that she was the abusive one in the relationship. He was not given a military funeral, he was treated as a murderer- not a combat hero.
So yes, I very much dislike the month of November, I dread Thanksgiving! But every year I find a way to push thru it, I fall apart multiple times a week but find the strength to lift myself up and keep pushing. I have a wonderful husband, he may not understand everything I go thru, but he is supportive and does whatever he can to help me smile and get thru it all. I have my daughter, my reason for continuing! Her smile can change my entire day, her hug can remind me that we are a family and we get thru it all together. This year I have more to be thankful for, I have my health back, and an incredible new circle of friends who are so positive and motivating and supportive. I have things to look forward to, life is changing for the better. My daughter will be married by this time next year, and that is the start of a new family for me to build new traditions around!
We all have struggles, we all have difficult periods that bring emotions flooding back... don't bury that and destroy yourself from the inside out... let those emotions flow, talk to someone, whatever helps you deal with it all! I know there are thousands of people out there with more difficult times than mine, and I pray for those people to find some peace and happiness. I do a pretty good job at putting the past in the past, but once in a while- like this time of the year, it does become overwhelming.
November also represents a time of family loss. Not just death, but loss of what once was. November was the last time I saw my grandfather before he passed in December. It is also the last time I saw my favorite uncle before his heart attack that put him on life support, ultimately ending his life on Christmas day. (the family joked that I was no longer allowed at family gatherings at that point, because someone always dies after I visit.) That was the last year my family was truly a family. True colors started to show thru, the troubles we hid behind fake smiles- finally broke free... We all have dysfunctional families, but my family chose to all go separate ways for the most part. I have some incredible memories of Thanksgiving with family as a child, and that last year prior to my dads brother passing when my entire family was here, together. They are good but painful memories. November was the last time I saw my youngest daughter, it has been ten years since I have seen her. I hold on the fact that one day I will be reunited with her and we can build some kind of relationship, friendship... but for now her smile is in my eyes when I close them.
November- the month I was sentenced to spend time in prison, I spent 4 days in jail, and was transferred to the prison 2 days prior to Thanksgiving. I didn't eat for days! Have you seen prison food? They brought us our 'holiday meal' and I fell apart! I swore I would never eat another Thanksgiving feast again.
November is also the month a dear friend who suffered from PTSD took the life of his girlfriend and then his own life. As I mourned this loss, I heard 2 things about this incident... first- he was a drunk, abusive man who murdered a 911 operator. second- from friends, I could be the one he killed, I should be glad I got away from him. Why do I still struggle with this loss? Nobody understood him, no one recognized he suffered every day. He drank because he was fighting so many demons from HIS past. That woman he killed, no, she didn't deserve that, but no one acknowledged the fact that she was the abusive one in the relationship. He was not given a military funeral, he was treated as a murderer- not a combat hero.
So yes, I very much dislike the month of November, I dread Thanksgiving! But every year I find a way to push thru it, I fall apart multiple times a week but find the strength to lift myself up and keep pushing. I have a wonderful husband, he may not understand everything I go thru, but he is supportive and does whatever he can to help me smile and get thru it all. I have my daughter, my reason for continuing! Her smile can change my entire day, her hug can remind me that we are a family and we get thru it all together. This year I have more to be thankful for, I have my health back, and an incredible new circle of friends who are so positive and motivating and supportive. I have things to look forward to, life is changing for the better. My daughter will be married by this time next year, and that is the start of a new family for me to build new traditions around!
We all have struggles, we all have difficult periods that bring emotions flooding back... don't bury that and destroy yourself from the inside out... let those emotions flow, talk to someone, whatever helps you deal with it all! I know there are thousands of people out there with more difficult times than mine, and I pray for those people to find some peace and happiness. I do a pretty good job at putting the past in the past, but once in a while- like this time of the year, it does become overwhelming.
Sunday, November 1, 2015
A Reminder of my Why
When I started blogging, it was my plan to help people thru my stories and experiences. I still do this, but it has turned into more of just a personal thoughts page, a place to clear my mind. But last night I was given a reminder.
I had posted something about my seizures on my Facebook page, a friend commented and we took it to a private chat for quite a long time. Her sister in law just this week, had her first ever seizure- in her mid 30s. She is lost and confused and scared, as is the entire family! I did what I could to give some advice for the family, as well as the sister in law.
I have lived with epilepsy for over 30 years. My family and friends have lived with it, they have had to learn what to do, how to react. My daughter has been at my side since she was born experiencing all of it with me. I have experienced various types of seizures, ranging from grand mal that put me unconscious followed by 3 day recovery time, to 10 second absence seizures that most people don't even notice I have! I have had periods of my life where I had monthly seizures, I've had periods where I have gone up to years with none! and the past couple years, I was having so many each day I lost count. I had a stroke caused by a seizure, I've had many injuries caused by falling, hitting furniture, etc.
So why don't I talk about it more? Why don't I use my experiences with this disease to help others who are trying to deal with it?
I have opened up and talked about prison and abuse and some health issues, but my epilepsy seems difficult for me to talk about. But chatting with Chelsea last night was an ah-ha moment for me! She was truly appreciative of me talking to her, and offering to talk to her brother and sister in law! I've never really felt that... need, from anyone when it came to this part of my life. I have always felt my condition, or disease, or whatever people choose to call it, was a burden on others- so who would really want to hear about it?
Really, I so often feel like I am a burden. I no longer drive, so I have to find a ride anywhere I want to go. I don't even walk places by myself, my daughter worries about me more than anyone! She hates to even leave me home alone.
I started this over a week ago, my tablet froze up, and I was unable to finish! Now I don't remember what all I was wanting to say... so I will just wrap it up with this...
I share my experiences, I reach out to others who are struggling, in hopes I can make a difference. If I am not willing to help others, what is the purpose of my struggles?
I had posted something about my seizures on my Facebook page, a friend commented and we took it to a private chat for quite a long time. Her sister in law just this week, had her first ever seizure- in her mid 30s. She is lost and confused and scared, as is the entire family! I did what I could to give some advice for the family, as well as the sister in law.
I have lived with epilepsy for over 30 years. My family and friends have lived with it, they have had to learn what to do, how to react. My daughter has been at my side since she was born experiencing all of it with me. I have experienced various types of seizures, ranging from grand mal that put me unconscious followed by 3 day recovery time, to 10 second absence seizures that most people don't even notice I have! I have had periods of my life where I had monthly seizures, I've had periods where I have gone up to years with none! and the past couple years, I was having so many each day I lost count. I had a stroke caused by a seizure, I've had many injuries caused by falling, hitting furniture, etc.
So why don't I talk about it more? Why don't I use my experiences with this disease to help others who are trying to deal with it?
I have opened up and talked about prison and abuse and some health issues, but my epilepsy seems difficult for me to talk about. But chatting with Chelsea last night was an ah-ha moment for me! She was truly appreciative of me talking to her, and offering to talk to her brother and sister in law! I've never really felt that... need, from anyone when it came to this part of my life. I have always felt my condition, or disease, or whatever people choose to call it, was a burden on others- so who would really want to hear about it?
Really, I so often feel like I am a burden. I no longer drive, so I have to find a ride anywhere I want to go. I don't even walk places by myself, my daughter worries about me more than anyone! She hates to even leave me home alone.
I started this over a week ago, my tablet froze up, and I was unable to finish! Now I don't remember what all I was wanting to say... so I will just wrap it up with this...
I share my experiences, I reach out to others who are struggling, in hopes I can make a difference. If I am not willing to help others, what is the purpose of my struggles?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)