2018, my year in Photos

2018 was started the right way, with movement in my of my life.  I had begun walking just before the New Year had arrived.  I kept it up in order to reach a goal which was to participate in a 5K!  I not only participated, but I shared my story about getting free of pharmaceuticals as I walked the streets of Grants Pass just 4 days before my 56th birthday!  I created a shirt about my journey and wore it proudly!

Reaching goals

Walking makes me smile

Hiking the Rogue

even the rain didn’t stop me from walking

My first 5K, I finished!

 

I also was on the move with my bags packed frequently this year.  Between moving back to S. Oregon, various house sitting gigs, a trip to Little Cultus lake and then to Salem a couple times, my bags got used a LOT.

Moving back to S. Oregon

Home from a camping

Heading to Salem

 

I enjoyed a variety of local events.  Music, merry-making, activism and fun.  I am beginning to enjoy being social now and then.  This is just one of the indicators that slowly yet progressively, I am healing!

Curtis Salgado at Concerts in the Park

St Patricks day celebration in Salem

Happy Halloween

Concert at the Britt with my friend

Vida girls at Cocina 7

IWill and I on the 4th

March against ICE

The Young Marines helped with parking

Brothers Reed at Golden Jubilee Celebration

Golden Jubilee Celebration

4th of July in Williams

NO SPRAY project in Willaims

 

 

Always there are animals around.  I enjoy them all.  I seem drawn to them and they seem to enjoy me as well.  I make friends wherever I go.  Often they are 4 legged or feathered.

Cute boy that lives across from the store

A drink of water for the jay

Now that’s a fluffy kitty

Found a cutie on a Salem walk

Loved these dogs

Greyhounds are cool.

Bird fight

They come running when I call

She hugged me too

Love the llamas

Awwwww, bunnies

He may be small, but he had attitude

No more roosters on the farm

 

I was drawn to water many times.  It soothed me.

Kayaking on Little Cultus

Sitting at the pool

The lake at Pacifica is so wonderful to meditate

Little Cultus on a beautiful morning

Rogue River in October

 

Especially when I needed to escape the smoke again.  Summers are getting hard in Southern Oregon due to so many fires.

I had to wear a mask on many days

I couldn’t hardly see the sun

Nearly 2 months we had hazardous air

So smoky.

Cannabis was always part of the day.    I shared my story in order to help others know that it does work and you don’t have to be high!  Well…maybe high on life!!!

My sign for Hands Across the Bridge

Love the plant

Enjoying a puff on Easter at the Winery

I was featured in this magazine

Fourth of July puff

Thanks to my friend Suzan who drew my thoughts

Making my cannabis capsules

I had so many blessings such as being reunited with my brother, getting a couple kitties, becoming a surrogate Nana…..and of course….my lovely tiny home on wheels.

My brother and I

Kenny got a home

I have a new baby to love…X

My home sweet home

Cozy and comfy

Blackwell and Jetson

 

I enjoyed some art projects this year.  Thanks for the art supplies ladies.  You know who you are.

 

I cooked for others and myself

Not everything was always dandy.  There were a few things that were hard.  But I never let them get me down for too long.

An early funeral for a young souls passing

Lost my toenail…forever now.

Truck got put together but not fixed

We have a mouse problem

Shasta still gets so scared at thunder

Another loss to BWS

 

But at the end of the day there were so many beautiful sunsets.

 

And of course….the one constant in my life….the most amazing and wonderful #ShastaTheWonderdog.  And Lulu…who is her sidekick!

 

It has been a year of blessings and I am very grateful!  I am ready for whatever 2019 has to bring!

Cause of Death: BWS and Psychopharmacology

Cause of Death: BWS (Benzodiazepine Withdrawal Syndrome) and Psychopharmacology

When a death occurs, depending on the status of the human life at the time of death, either the attending physician or a coroner are required to list the Cause of Death. There are very specific rules for determining the cause of death. The causes are listed in order of occurrence. Nowhere on this list do you see the term “BWS and Psychopharmacology”.
Over the course of the last two weeks, two valued and loved humans have died of this cause. There may be more I am unaware of, but both of these beautiful women were active in support groups for those suffering from an iatrogenic illness caused by psychiatric pharmacology.  Rather than the true cause of death I have suggested, we likely will learn that their death certificate lists Suicide or Neuropsychiatric Disorder or maybe on a far reach, Substance Disorder.
Those three causes of death put the blame on the injured and sick human. If the doctors were honest about what really occurred, the most correct of those listed would be Poisoning. These women were poisoned by following their doctor’s orders and taking medications as prescribed for symptoms that were unable to be confirmed by any labs or imaging. These women believed and trusted their doctors that the medications would not hurt them.
The most recent loss just last Friday was a woman I met, not once but twice, while both of us were inpatient in psychiatric crisis centers. When we were reunited the second time a friendship was forged. We both were in the throes of brutal withdrawals from psychotropic medications including benzodiazepines and anti-depressants. We also had become aware prior to our hospitalizations that it was the medications themselves and the withdrawal from them that was making us so sick.
This beautiful young woman was the mother of a 5-year-old daughter. She was the beloved daughter of caring parents. She was quiet spoken, sweet as southern tea, and had a heart that held enough love for all the world. And, she was tormented by the ravages of withdrawal off medications like Zoloft and Klonopin.
Whatever the method of death, the cause was the symptoms associated with BWS and Psychiatric Pharmacology. Prior to the medications, she had been a vibrant hopeful full-of-life twenty-three-year-old and the world was open to possibilities. Shortly after beginning the medications and taking them as prescribed by her doctors she started suffering from multiple horrifying symptoms. She knew it was the medications, but no one would listen.
She was hospitalized against her will, having the most terrifying physical and mental torture imaginable, and drugged more and more and more throughout her hospitalization. She had been brought from another psychiatric unit where she had been for a couple weeks to the hospital I was in. She was like a zombie yet still beautiful, in a haunting ethereal way. She cried a lot. We both cried a lot. Over the course of a week, we shared a few conversations while coloring. She drew and colored. Her art was just like her, warm and bright and beautiful. In spite of both our horrible conditions, we saw a light in one another.
Not even two weeks later, having had yet another significant run in with suicidal ideation, I was admitted to another psychiatric crisis center. Less than a week after my arrival, here comes Marrisa. Still crying, still broken, still shaking, still breathing and still beautiful. Inside and out.
We talked a lot more in this environment as it was only women and a very small setting. We both had been struggling with chronic suicidal ideation. We both knew it was because of the medications. We both agreed we really wanted to be well and live and love our families and our lives. Yet suicidal ideation is a hallmark symptom common for those who suffer from the withdrawals from benzodiazepines and other psychotropic medications.
We shared so many stories and fears and even things we were really ashamed of because of how the medications had changed us to behave in ways that weren’t in alignment with our core values and beliefs. We talked about how the medical community treats us as if it’s our fault for being sick, yet all we had done was take medications that the doctors told us to, in spite of black box warnings for suicidality for her Zoloft and for my Effexor XR. We took the benzodiazepines for months, or in my case off and on for 3 decades, as our doctors prescribed, in spite of the warnings against use for longer than 2 weeks.
The end of this month will be two years since that first meeting. My heart is absolutely shredded to bits by the news of her passing. The reasons are all over the spectrum. My heart aches for her family who may never fully understand what really happened. My heart aches for my friends who are all reeling from this devastating news. My heart aches because it could have been any one of us. It could have easily been me. I too have been in a horrifying wave of symptoms the last month. My heart aches because it feels like no one outside our groups is listening.
This is NOT due to a psychiatric illness. This is due to an iatragenic illness. The suicidal ideation and depression and bone pain and brain pain and ruminating and intrusive thoughts and akathisia and unrelenting insomnia are all symptoms because of how those medications altered our GABA-receptors and neurotransmitters. But no one that is prescribing them is acknowledging this. They want to blame it on us, the patients.
Please, whatever the listed cause of death is for my friend and the other recent loss in our support groups, please share the truth. That this was caused by medications that we did not get the full disclosure on of how they could destroy our lives and maybe even kill us.
Please reach out to those who are trusted administrators and moderators in the groups during this time of grief.  Find a partner in pain and commit to one another through the bad times to call in and give encouragement. We cannot do this alone and those out in the world aren’t ready to face the truth that we didn’t cause this ourselves and we aren’t a psychiatric label. If it is a bad day and you are in a bad wave, do NOT be ashamed to share that pain with another! It is by sharing the pain that we learn the strength we have for one another and for ourselves.
There is no one to blame for this except for the medical community. That is the truth. RIP my friend. RIP to all our friends who have lost this battle. You will not be forgotten! You fought hard and we all watched. Memories of you will always make us smile.

I believe this photo on her page was soon after we met. I found it on her public page.

 

St. Patrick’s Day Fish Pie ~ in honor of Grandpa Jim!

St. Patrick’s day was something I grew up celebrating with the requisite corned beef, cabbage, taters and carrots, the beloved hot horseradish and Irish Soda bread, all made by my blue-eyed white-haired 5’8″ GIANT of a grandfather!  He may not have been the tallest man on the block, but to me his presence was enormous.

October 1980

November 1985

1983

January 1986

January 1986

January 20, 1987 86 years old holding my one day old baby.

Grandpa did the bulk of the cooking in my grandparents home.  It was he who taught me how to make a St. Patrick’s day feast as well as many other delectable treats over the years.  My grandmother had been a career woman working as head personnel secretary for the local Georgia Pacific office in Eugene, Oregon.  She had worked for that company for 25 years before retiring.  Lumbar was big back in those days here in Oregon and they both had worked in the industry.  My grandfather had driven log trucks, been a surveyor and worked in a few mills.

One thing you had to know about my grandfather was that he was the worlds BEST storyteller.  I loved to hear him tell about hauling a load of logs down a windy rocky ravine of a road cut out of the side of a mountain with no brakes except a Jake brake and the brake roads you drove up to slow down!!!  My brother has a couple of the old photos of him standing in front of some of those big huge trucks with logs as wide in diameter as a man is tall and more!  I was captivated by his stories and his bright blue eyes all crinkly in the corners.  There were many stories I listened to while sitting across the kitchen table from him.

All organic, wild grown, sustainably harvested…..good for you and the environment!

Another thing notable about my grandfather was that he welcomed all the neighborhood kids into his house.  They could come by to have their bike fixed, or to get some practice on a new set of stilts he had built for anyone who wanted to give  them a try.  He built a zip line in the backyard before anyone even knew what such things were!  Back then no one worried about the neighbor kids getting hurt.  All the parents in the neighborhood knew my grandfather helped kids be good kids by letting them try things and sometimes they got hurt.  No one got their panties all bunched up back then if their kid showed up with their knees and hands all skinned up from having landed hard trying a new pair of stilts! Many of these neighborhood kids also came by to  have a little “counseling” from Grandpa!  He was very wise and gave good insights into how to live good and right.

Grandpa came over from Ireland in 1913 when he was 12 years old.  The way the story goes is that they were all slated to come on The Titanic, but his grandmother got very ill and so their trip was postponed for a year.  That’s the story I hear and I am gonna share it until my dying day.  When he and his Pa and brothers relocated their

landing was in Canada.  His sister and mother came later.  It was then that his proper schooling came to an end.  At least schooling as you and I know it.  Yet that man was truly one of the best read smartest men I knew.  He read the entire Register Guard newspaper every day.  He read books on every topic imaginable.  He did cross word puzzles and played scrabble.  Not being in school did not hinder him in life at all.  He was a self-made man who cared for people with love that was authentic and without expectation except to just be your best.  He expected the best of people because he thought the best of them.  He hoped for the best for people.  Sometimes to a fault!  But that is another story.

He provided for many people throughout his life.  He worked to provide for his family of birth, then his first family, as well as other families during the depression.  Another story was that he was a rum runner between Canada and the USA during the depression in order to help feed 5 different families.  Again, that is the story I heard and I am only repeating what I was told.  He then provided for my grandmother and mother and me and my siblings.  He also helped all the members of his extended family in any way he could.

Who does the clean up in the cooking shows?

Well lookie there, my break reminder! It’s 420

I guarantee you there were no leprechauns here doing my clean up!

I see now why my grandmother was still so deeply in love with him the day she died nearly 20 years later.  If I had a husband like my grandfather I would probably feel the same!  He was just as crazy about her as well.  While they bickered back and forth and sometimes frustrated one another in big ways, they were wild about one another.  What a great thing to have as a memory.

I wasn’t feeling like having corned beef and cabbage just for me, and I had a piece of halibut I wanted to use up, so I decided to create an Irish Fish Pie in honor of my grandfather on St. Patrick’s day.  Am I glad I did.  What a delicious dish this turned out to be!  I didn’t serve it with anything as it was just me, myself, and I.  The “pie” was enough.  I made it with sweet potatoes instead of regular mashers for a boost in nutritional value.

St. Patrick’s Day Fish Pie

Start by boiling 4 or 5 medium-sized sweet potatoes.   Place in saucepan and cover with water.  Boil on medium high for about 25 minutes.  They should be soft when pierced with a fork, but not falling apart.  Drain water and allow to cool to where you can easily peel (the peels came off really easy) and return to pan.  Mash!  Set aside.

Melt 2 tablespoons butter in a large skillet.  Add 1 onion chopped and 2 stalks of celery chopped.  Cook over medium-high heat 2 or 3 minutes and then add 2 leeks sliced in 1/2″ slices.  Saute another 3-4 minutes until onions are translucent.  Add 2 bay leaves crumbled and 1 teaspoon fresh thyme to mixture.  Turn down heat to medium and let flavors combine for another 2 minutes.

I didn’t have any fish stock so I used 1 cup chicken stock and 1/4 cup of the ice from a jar of pickled herring.  If I would have had it I would have used 1 cup of fish stock.  I added that to the veggie mixture with 1 cup of coconut milk.  I brought it to a light boil over medium heat and began adding the fish!

I had about 1/2 pound of halibut fillets I cut into bite sized pieces.  I added this to the liquid and let it cook for about 2 minutes.  Then I added 3/4 cup of frozen shrimp.  I poached these in the broth/veggie mix for another 3 minutes.  Add 1 can of salmon and 2 teaspoons fresh lemon juice and stir it for another minute.

I poured all the mixture into a strainer over a bowl, collecting the broth.  I then added 2 tablespoons butter to the sauce pan and 2 tablespoons of flour and made a rue.  I cooked it for about 2 or 3 minutes adding two turns of a sea salt shaker and about 3/4 teaspoon pepper.  I then poured the reserved broth back to the pan and cooked it about 5 minutes allowing it to thicken while stirring constantly.

Pour this sauce over the fish/vegetable mixture that has been put into a buttered casserole dish.   Top with the mashed sweet potatoes.  Extend the potatoes out to the edges if you have enough.  I did not.  My 4 potatoes didn’t give me enough coverage, so you might want to use another potatoe or two.  Bake in oven at 425 degrees for 25 minutes.

Sprinkle 2 tablespoons grated parmesan cheese on top and put back in over under broiler, watching carefully for 2 or 3 minutes until top browns slightly.  Let cool.  Enjoy with a cold Guinness if you care to imbibe.  My grandfather would have, but only one!  All Irishmen do not drink themselves silly on St. Patrick’s day.  At least I never saw him do that.  Although there are stories!

Ingredients

4 or 5 medium sweet potatoes

1/2 lb. Halibut fillet or any white fish of your choosing (wild caught of course)

3/4 cup frozen or fresh shrimp (again, wild caught)

1 can flaked salmon (yep, here too)

1 onion chopped

2 stalks celery chopped

2 leeks, washed, cut in 1/2 and then sliced in 1/2″ slices

5 tablespoons butter (used in 3 steps)

1 cup fish stock (chicken stock will work in a pinch)

1 cup coconut milk

2 bay leaves crushed

2 teaspoons thyme

2 teaspoons lemon juice

2 tablespoons organic flour (I used Bob’s Red Mill)

Sea Salt and pepper to taste

2 tablespoons Parmesan cheese

All the ingredients I used were organic and as locally sourced as possible.  I hope you enjoy

18 months since I jumped: An update on healing

I am able to recognize my blessings each day and be grateful for all I have and have hope for continued blessings in my future!

Greetings from a highly improved me!   It has been eighteen months since I jumped (abruptly discontinued) from taking Ativan 1mg daily after tapering from taking Ativan 3mg daily. I tapered over the duration of two years. My severe detox and withdrawals period was exacerbated by the fact that I had jumped off Oxycodone 10mg only two months prior to stopping the Ativan.  I had tapered off a daily dose of 45mg-90mg over a 2 year period.   What had started in 2010 as a prescription for Percocet 5/325 one every 6 hours as needed for pain, grew until it became a monster in my life that ate all the goodness up. It was just one of the numerous medications that I was prescribed over two and a half decades.

From my records dating 2010 until the fall of 2017 I had 19 pharmaceuticals prescribed to take on a daily basis. Many of them for longer than the recommendations written in those little tiny informational packets you get sometimes with a bottle of pills. Many of them were also prescribed for things other than what they were originally created to treat. Off label uses.  My PCP (Primary Care Providor) also had recommended numerous over the counter medications and supplements as well.

 

This smile was for a magazine article

This smile was in preparation to celebrate RECOVERY

This smile was for a friend during a walk in the mall.

This was a smile ready to go to a meeting

This smile was for doing a walk/jog and feeling that great pain!

                                                                I can smile so much easier these days 
I had been quite aware of the perils of addiction as I have personally witnessed and experienced it in my life in many forms and throughout many experiences.  My own addiction (maladaptive coping mechanism for suffering) was gambling. I knew what it felt like to not only crave something, but would go to great lengths to have that need fulfilled.

That is NOT how the medications were for me. I was dependent upon them. I took them as prescribed. I was trying to check IN to life. I was trying to find a way around the pain (both physical and emotional) so that I could participate in life. Yet the conditions continued to mount until the amount of medications my PCP prescribed became toxic! They didn’t work anymore.  In fact, some of them created a paradoxical effect, causing the exact symptom they were meant to treat.

When I recognized that the use of all these chemicals was harming me more than they were helping, I knew it was time to make radical changes in how I was managing (or letting my PCP manage) my health. I took back the reigns and sought a different path
It wasn’t really a conscious choice, embarking on the journey through the hell I have been through.  It was simply the act of starting a forward movement towards change by doing just one thing differently. Then it grew to more things differently. Things like spending a lot more time outdoors. Activities such as interacting with animals and being creative with a camera. Making very conscious choices in what I put into my body. Eliminating as much negativity as I could. Yet, there were still struggles as I didn’t know all that I would face along this journey.

No one had warned me that there was a possibility that I could have psychotic episodes coming off these medications. No one had warned me that I could reach tolerance and have paradoxical effects like a severe case of insomnia that lasted for 20 years. Only now, after being off every single medication for 40 days, am I beginning to have occasional bouts of normal sleep. No one told me about excruciating bone pain that left me curled up and rocking and crying on my mattress. No one told me of the incessant need to move, the rocking and bouncing legs and full body restlessness that was exhausting and robbed me of any rest for my ravaged body and brain. No one prepared me for how shunned I would feel and how that would further the crippling agoraphobia and paranoia so that I could not tell who I could or could not trust. This further complicated the entire process.
No one else knew how bad this would be either. I know now that there was NO one in my life anywhere close to prepared for the wild and horrifying symptoms and behaviors this would create.  It was terrifying to go through and I can imagine it was scary as hell to watch! In fact, knowing many others who have endured the hell I have, some even worse, I know that very few people in the world have been prepared to be of any assistance for someone going through this type of severe and lengthy mental and physical anguish.
That first year was a doozy! Fraught with the loss of health and home and any stability I believed I had, pretty much everything was gone in my life! Friends, family, belongings, any sense of dignity was gone.  I was robbed of all hope by the Benzodiazepine demons that lived in my head. All I did was bounce where the winds took me, trying to protect myself from me, and from others who were ill-equipped to be of any help.

Unfortunately, sometimes due to their lack of understanding or skill, those I most hoped would help were only able to add to the pain and suffering by their responses and reactions to me.   Those that truly care would have done different if they had known how.  I believe this is true for all of us suffering from this.  Yet they are the ones who just mostly stood by and watched and felt helpless. They had nothing to offer except recognizing the pain was there.  Today I can feel bad for their experience in watching all of this hell.

This last 6 months I have turned a corner. I can feel it internally and others have commented on it externally. I have been more focused on myself and finding healing and seeking the path to wellness than ever before in my entire life.  The tools and skills and interactions and experiences I have participated in have helped me have a sense of acceptance and peace.  I truly feel more equipped to deal with whatever life may bring to me from here on forward.   More than ever before in my life I have a sense of direction and purpose.
I still have much work to do. Both of my current therapists are recommending intensive treatment for Complex PTSD (Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder) including modalities such as ACT (Acceptance and Commitment therapy), CBT (cognitive behavior therapy), and EMDR (Eye movement desensitization and reprocessing). Both of them say it is imperative for me to do this work for complete healing and the ability to get past the things that haunt me regardless how much I try to not let them.
I personally have taken it upon myself to learn life skills that I have found are helping me tremendously. I have adopted the practice of meditation. I meditate at least once daily, but usually twice a day. MY meditation is very much connected to my spiritual practice and prayer time. I also do Conscious breathing, utilizing a timer to just stop and breath once an hour. These skills have reduced my anxiety tremendously and are excellent for staying in the moment which is so necessary for those with PTSD.  I eat at least an 80/20 whole foods diet, primarily organic in nature and from sources as local as possible.

Burger on a bed of lettuce and salad, yum

Delish chicken with raspberry sauce, and veggies

Veggies over mashed cauliflower…energy to study

VeggiestuffedPortebella

Miso, raw veggies and apple

Organic and lots of colors

Green smoothie

Simple eggs over greens, avocado and apple

Snacks

Vegetable Soup

Sauteed veggies, organic eggs, blueberries and some yogurt

Since the New Year I also have been working on having the habits of movement (exercise) and drinking more water daily. I have also begun light jogging. This I am doing still with living under the fact of pain is in my life. I have nerve pain in my feet that is non-stop 24/7. I also have pretty severe back and neck pain. Yet after a 10 week-long session at a pain clinic, I have learned some wonderful new ways of looking at pain and living with it. This is why I now am more encouraged and hopeful than I have been in an extremely long time. I feel very empowered.

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Yet I still need help. I am still homeless. I still have no vehicle.  I am still awaiting a determination on my most recent filing for Social Security Disability. I still have a couple of years ahead of me doing some really difficult personal therapies. I still have limited energy and endurance.
After careful consideration, counseling with others, and making efforts to find stability and a place to live and work both where I am and where I last came from, I have decided to go back to S. Oregon.  I have more work I can do there than I have been able to find here.  I ran an ad and I have already booked 3 house-sitting gigs. I also have a couple of clients that want me to do periodic light work around their properties (gardening and housekeeping type chores). I have a friend who has offered me the use of her trailer for 11 months, and I have a couple of possibility of places to put it in exchange for helping on a person’s property either with care taking or with farm type chores.  I am willing and able to do this. It won’t be enough to get ahead, but I will have a roof over my head and some security for at least that time period.

I have been offered a trailer like this to use for about 11 months if I can get a secure place to park it! High living for a modest gal like me!

What I need more than anything right now is a vehicle and maybe the first 6 months of insurance paid.  Or even the first 3 months. Then I can get to the house sitting jobs and the clients who have other chores to do. Then I can earn a few pesos each month. My goal is $600, which is 30 hours a month. I will most likely have to do that many hours again where ever I end up parking the trailer in exchange for rent.  That works out to about fifteen hours weekly of being up and moving and doing some sort of physical activity.  15 hours a week is about all I can do without being where I can lie down and rest intermittently.
I know I will keep improving as I continue to do the habits I’ve created and use the tools I have obtained. I know my energy will increase as I continue to lower the stress of dealing with PTSD through the time invested in treatment and as my body continues to heal from the damages done by the medications I took for too long!

I served healthy snacks at the gathering I hosted recently. Beet brownies and Apples with Almond butter drizzle, Homemade hummus and veggies.

Beet brownies are amazing!

This was a smile for entertaining for the first time in a LONG TIME

I also am involved with Vocational Rehabilitation.   They are going to help me pursue the reinstatement of my nursing license. It is my short-term goal to utilize my nursing license in creating a health and wellness mentor and coaching business. I believe I have a vast amount of knowledge and experience that can be used to help many others who live with physical and emotional pain. I believe my new-found enthusiasm and gratitude for a new opportunity can encourage and inspire others to pursue their truest selves! I have been a helper and have had a healing nature throughout my life. Now that my true self (not drugged by pharmaceuticals) is re-emerging stronger than ever, I trust that God and the Universe will allow my best self to help others possibly find their way out of suffering too!

Participating in an online Health and Wellness coaching program. It is self directed and self paced. Perfect for me right now. As well as it is FREE!!!

I am so grateful I am still here on earth and alive. I am so grateful the benzodiazepine (and other pharmaceutical) demons did not completely destroy me. It felt like I was destroyed at times, yet here I am smiling and grateful and caring for myself….and others!

After such a dark and seemingly endless foray into the depths of psychological pain so deep I felt life wasn’t worth living, I now have hope!!!  I also am able to develop goals.  It is the first time in many years I have felt capable of even thinking of having a goal, let alone taking the necessary steps to get there.  One of my goals is to  jog/run in a 5K event the weekend of my 56th birthday.   My new walking habit inspired that goal.  I have never enjoyed running or jogging, even as a child.  Yet now, when pushing through the chronic pain, I find that I reach a point of some real clean current pain and it is a desirable experience.  Pushing past the pain to get going is worth it.  The daily steps I am taking are to keep me focused and to build my skill and strength level to reach that place of being able to complete the race.  After the race,  if I still feel it is something that is adding value to my health and life and wellness, I may try for a 10K.  It is a measurable success.  There are other goals as well so each day I purposefully do actions to bring me closer to the prize…..WELLNESS and HEALING!

Many losses in the last months, yet I am able to cope and manage my feelings. Progress!

Signs of spring capture my attention

I am fully present on my forays into the world

I also have a great aspiration to help others like me!!! I have a big dream of someday creating a healing place (long term inpatient facility) for those like me who have suffered in their lives with DIS-ease of any kind.   People wanting to come off pharmaceuticals that have become toxic to them, especially opiates and benzodiazepines; those who suffer the consequences of addiction; those who have emotional pain that requires that they be loved on and guided and encouraged to health! I envision a place of many woods and streams and much beauty where people can rest their tired minds and bodies and take a few deep breaths for a period of time. I see gardens and animals, some of them providing companionship, others there for their food source to provide healthy nutritious meals. It will be a place where there is patience and tolerance and gentle trauma-informed guidance. People will have a time and place to explore their suffering and learn skills for finding peace and acceptance of what is.  I dream of it being a place they will also find a sense of purpose and the ability to create goals and plans for achieving them. It is a big dream. It will require a big tribe to create it. That will be a huge focus on the next portion of my journey. Creating a healing caring loving tribe that can share this vision! 🙂
oh….btw….it feels great to be able to write a bit! That is one skill that has suffered during this time and it is another sign of my healing!

7 tips for managing symptoms while coming off mind altering pharmaceuticals

This is a list of a few positive helps I’ve noticed that seem to be helping myself and others. Observing those in the groups that are coming off various medications, including Benzodiazepines, Opiates, anti-depressants and anti-psychotic has helped me learn. These observations are not scientific in nature and I have nothing to back them up except from what I’ve observed and experienced myself.
This list is not comprehensive in nature. Each individual observed may have been doing one or many of the listed actions in helping themselves manage their symptoms through detox and withdrawal.
These are the actions that folks are taking that seem to help them MANAGE their symptoms better. WE are unable to control them and time is a big factor. This list is things you can do NOW to help yourselves.

1. Get outdoors!!! Even if it’s only to sit on your front porch and feel the sunbeams on your face or smell the fresh rain that just dropped or to shiver in the snow. Increase the duration over time. Maybe after successfully sitting on the porch for a week, you can walk to the mailbox the next week and then complete the activity by still sitting on the porch for 5 minutes. My personal experience with this was that, over time, I went further and further and felt so much better each time I got out to walk! Fresh air is crucial and this activity will also give you a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction.

2. Exercise. As noted above, it starts small. Walking back and forth to the mailbox. Then walk to the end of the block and back. Then around the block. You get the idea. Mild exercise is excellent for boosting mood and for helping break the trail of lies our mind tells us that we are too sick. Yes, we are sick, but nearly every person is capable of doing something to stretch and strengthen their body! I personally have been trying Yoga and Qi-Gong and find them very helpful for me.

3. Eat clean and stay away from sugars, gluten (I eliminated all grains), processed foods and many are sensitive to dairy. I personally eat a diet consisting of local and organicially grown meats and eggs and vegetables. When folks say they can’t afford to eat organic I remind them, I don’t do Starbucks, sodas, fast food, and I have no vices. Food is fuel for my body and it ranks high on the budget. Eat nutrient dense foods and you will feel better. Check out the book “It starts with Food”.

4. Find a support group or a supportive group of folks you can talk with and be authentic with. This is probably the hardest, as our minds tell us we aren’t worth anything and we feel so brain damaged. Yet, those who are most functional have peeps! I go to a variety of support groups and have found a family that way. I highly recommend Refuge Recovery. It is a Buddhist based recovery program for ANYONE who is suffering. While many of us do not in any way fit the description of addict, we were dependent on our medication and not having it anymore creates huge anxiety within us. These supportive groups can be a place to learn coping mechanisms and learn tools at managing emotions.

5. Don’t take supplements or OTC remedies. Each pharmaceutical that is touted to help one symptom has at least 2 if not more toxic potentials. I personally am not completely against all pharmaceuticals, but reaching for one every time something doesn’t feel good is not a healthy solution.

6. Learn coping mechanisms. Regardless the reason you were started on one of the medications I listed above, it has left you with a state of anxiety and various other symptoms. Those who are practicing meditation, working with a therapist, reading books on emotional regulation or some sort of personal responsibility for managing their emotions seem to fair better over time. While it may not eliminate the symptoms, it will alleviate them.

7. Find acceptance for the situation and have patience. The days and weeks will pass (for some months and years) but we can’t change that. Accepting it lessens the fight. There is much to be said for time. It does heal so much.

I truly hope for each that these tips are encouraging. They are things you can DO to make yourself feel better. They are things that YOU can do for YOU! We must be kind to ourselves through this process. We didn’t ask for it, but we still have to learn to maneuver it. We can’t control it either, but we can manage some of the symptoms. That is what this list is for, some management tools that I have seen helping those who are healing and moving forward.
Peace and Namaste

 

Day 6 and the worst is over I hope!

Today, I spent some time trying to piece together the last 60 days. It’s hard. There are lots of big spaces of time I don’t remember much. That scares me. It’s evident whatever happened freaked out my loved ones in a big way. I was on the phone saying so many things that were not at all what I was wanting to say but my brain just was somewhat frying. It just was what it was.

Which of course adds to my shame and guilt.  I have not had that occur since I quit gambling. Yes, I’ve lost control of my emotions before, but I have had no “out of body” experiences like I experienced this time. I sure am glad I write tho, because I can go back and somewhat piece together the build-up, the blow, the loss of time, and then I went straight into detox for the Xanax withdrawal. Not the smartest idea in the book. But hey….who said I was thinking in any congruent way during this time?

Although extraordinarily fatigued with pain increased,  I think I’m doing pretty well. I am stronger than I remember sometimes. While I was feeling so weak, I had some idea of what I wanted. I have been on a journey to get off these pills for nearly 2 years. I wanted to get my overall health and strength a little better because I knew I was getting to a place I was ready to deal with some more of my “stuff”.

I did know I was having some PTSD triggers There were some encounters with people I cared about where I felt under attack so decided to disengage from those relationships. That is not something I do lightly. Yet, in retrospect it showed I was getting stronger because I was able to say to myself, “this is not healthy for me”.

In late February or early March was one  occasions and I handled myself with composure (maybe showing a slight displeasure but that is all) and then returned the next day to discuss the situation and stated what behaviors I could handle. That is a HUGE thing for me.

As time passed and other situations occurred I knew I needed to do some digging to see why I so easily get triggered by certain personalities. To be frank, I believe it’s because of my mother and our relationship and her behaviors. There are certain behaviors in women I just cannot tolerate at all. It gets my ruff up so bad and I have to just clench my teeth. Pointing, especially if someone pokes my chest, intimidation posturing, badgering, and overly aggressive. I have a tolerance and then it just is gone. It was like I was doing okay, handling each situation the best I could while trying to be professional in my role as “property manager”, and then it was over the edge.

I had told a few folks about my encounters and how they were affecting me. I had thought I had stated I was getting very stressed and overwhelmed, but again, I believe others hear it as “whining”. It was in late March that I picked up paperwork to get back into counseling. I didn’t get it turned in until mid-April after recovering from the flu. I didn’t get back in until  about the end of June for intake. Back in late March I knew I was over-stressed and had taken on more than I could handle.

In my perception a great deal of the stress came because what I perceived as agreed conversations on what was going on with the property and tenants wasn’t happening. I also had a situation with a friend and it was just the last straw.  I was so overwhelmed trying to get this property ready for renters. I had to help pack up a house that was full of many collections. Tapes(VCR and Cassette), books and mountains of electronics. The entire second story was just storage! I also had to get ready for an Estate Sale. I had never done one before and what a TON of work that is. I also had to help Mr. Chicago’s brother find an apartment and then I had to help him figure out how to make a home for himself in his new place. January was exhausting.

Then in February I was still doing okay after taking a little break, but that is when some of the encounters with PTSD triggers really started. After the first one I was shook up and tearful for a couple days. Then I tried to rectify things in an adult manner and carried on. Then there was another encounter in March. Again, I held my tongue, waited a day or two and then tried to rectify it. I also was telling my family and loved ones about the stress this was bringing me. Yet, no one is around me to actually see what those affects looked like. Often when you have PTSD triggers in my mind I feel like I sound like I am “complaining”. But what I’m trying to convey is I am getting over-stressed and I can’t make prudent choices and I need some help.

I had my trip to Chicago in late March and then came home and landed in the hospital for 4 days with the flu and pneumonia and when I came home and got well enough I had to stretch myself again. I was interviewing potential land renters. I had to run ads and make phone calls and then talk with these people at length regarding their needs and what we could provide for them. I am not a good salesperson. It makes me very uncomfortable, so I was stressing about that. More stress. I am feeling like I am falling behind here. There is so much work to be done and I am coming home after a nearly 2 week absence and it’s time to start the gardens and I still have things to haul to the dump and things to sale and continued encounters that were less than comfortable with some people.

Then came May. I did forget to mention that I had a very serious family issue that occurred in January that was an ongoing concern and stressor until early June. Those of you who follow my FB page remember, Mr. Chicago came out for my birthday in May. It was truly the BEST surprise I’ve ever had for my birthday. The BEST.   During the time he was here I was able to show him a little of what the issues were but by that point I was definitely at a point that any more encounters with triggers was going to set me off. But to him I’m sure they seemed small, each little instance.

That is not so for someone with PTSD. I’ve only had one occasion where it was a single incident that triggered me. Even at that time, I had been under a LOT of stress. Typically when I go into a meltdown mode (post gambling…completely different scenario) I have had a number of stressors on top of a number of triggers. I can only take so much. Which, is another reason I have been trying to get disability.

Having a disability like this doesn’t mean I can’t function or that I’m not smart or capable. It means I can’t take the daily struggles like a person who doesn’t have a  disability. Over the years I’ve tried to explain so much.  I can do a little physical and deal with the pain, but then my stress will get up and so I can’t deal with people or additional stress. Or, I can be medicated and take it gentle on my body and not do a bunch of hard things and my brain works. In fighting chronic pain as well as mental health issues life gets very overwhelming at times.

After Mr. Chicago went home, I thought we kind of had things under control. But that was not the case at all. There were still unresolved issues that came up and a number of incidents that made me uneasy around the 12^th of June and that was when I started going over the edge.

After my first blow up, I had a few days where I just was telling everyone “I’m done”.   I am not able to make these decisions. I was trying so hard to take care of the area here and do a good job. I went up and down and up and down for a couple weeks and then settled down a bit. But by then, I was really struggling inside with a lot of things.

I didn’t feel safe anymore. Because I had “acted out” I was scared and embarrassed and pushed everyone away more. I didn’t want anyone to see me unhinged. The lonelier I got and the more I tried to figure out what I could have done different I just got more and more distressed.

I tried to “pull it together”, but I had forgotten that back in May I had purposefully come to the point that I wasn’t gong to refill the Oxycodone anymore.  That had been my goal and I reached it and was doing okay. I didn’t take into account how that my affect my mental health when I was already under stress. I continued to rage and then cry and then rage and then cry. I’ve said “I’m sorry” so many times in the last 2 months and then gone and done the same exact thing.

That is what happens when you have a PTSD breakdown. You feel okay for a few minutes and think you are okay to be around others and then Every Little Thing bugs the hell out of you. Drivers that are speeding and reckless caused me to be the same…trying to chase them down to tell them what crazy drivers they are. Ha ha ha….and who was the undone woman chasing them? Yes…that was me! Hence the limited driving these days.

So June ended and July rode in and yet another big stressor met me on the 5^th. Something that made me think of bad things from long ago. I tried to explain to the other my feelings but was met with resistance. This made me feel even more unworthy and increased my angst.

7/13/16 the face of withdrawal, PTSD and heartache.

7/17.16 A better perspective and clearer head.

So on 7/12 I had ran out of Xanax and decided not to go to town to pick up my prescription the next day. I had made a choice. Not wise, with my thinking at the time, but it was just me here and I was going for it. The first night I found out some information that truly just made my head burst. My head has been racing and my heart has been racing and I became obsessed with this information and it was rough that first day or two. I was not only going through Detox and PAWS, but I was in the midst of a mental health breakdown and kept getting news that left me feeling so alone and so WRONG for everything. Lots of thoughts of “why am I here?”.

That’s the mindset of a PTSD person. When I am in a PTSD head, I am in total fight/flight mode. I feel horrible. I think I am the worst person in the world. I want no one to see me. I don’t behave in ways that are typical for me. I get quite mean (to push people away) I’ve been told. I typically am NOT mean! I am a lover and a giver and a smiler. But under duress from a PTSD flare I can dish out some verbal bashing and be quite harsh.

I hate that. Which is a big reason for going back to counseling. I know I still have learning to do. I am hoping by completing my detoxification off the narcotics and benzodiazapines my head will be clearer for doing the work I have in front of me.

I know nothing about my future right now. Neither do you…if truth be told. I remember my counselor telling me that I learned early in life, it can all change overnight. In the meantime I am hunkering down and just trying to take care of myself. I deserve it. So do those who love me. I despise scaring them so. Evidently, as I was recently reminded, it’s been going on for some time.   When I get to my lowest I have very pronounced suicidal ideation. I forget about it for the most part when I’m well. I know how that feels as my mother suffered with the same. It is very hard for those around a person feeling like this.

Today has been the clearest my mind has been in a very long time. A very very long time. Even with the fatigue of not sleeping the last two nights (going on being awake for about 58 hours now) my brain is clear. I truly am grateful for being able to finally get off all that.

The cannabis is working. The dosing is not exact, yet. Just like me. I’m working on it. Thanks God for a gentler alternative that comes form the earth!

Save

REnew, REuse, Recycle…the birth of a new coop for our girls!

Sweetie peeking through the fence, wondering “what’s out there?”.

I have moved into an abandoned hoarders’ house.  My boyfriend moved here first.  I will post about some of the transformation we have accomplished later.  This post is about the new home for our girls.

Prior to moving here, I had a dozen chickens.  My boyfriend had 14.  He re-homed 8 of his and I re-homed 6 of mine and so we blended an even dozen.  No roosters! We live in the city limits. I had to get rid of my beloved Pumpkin who I had raised since he was days old.

Now, try to imagine a corner city lot with an 1800 square foot home that is completely filled with stuff!!!  The house had paths from the doors to the various rooms.  Two of the three bedrooms were filled with stuff to the doorway with one of the rooms impenetrable.  The outside was similar.  There is an extra long driveway/patio that has debris completely filling it except for a parking area near the roadway.  The backyard, and side yard were full of garbage and debris.

The makeshift coop in the back of the house under a bunch of overgrown trees and grape vines. Piles of garbage and debris on both sides! It’s only 4 feet tall.

When my guy moved here and brought his chickens he built a makeshift coop/run.  It worked.  It wasn’t easy to access for cleaning.  It was dark because it was in the over run jungle of a yard.  The girls did not seem happy.  I wasn’t happy about where they were.  I wanted a place where I could hang out with them when I wanted to.

After 3 months of working on getting the inside of the house livable, it was time to make a new spot for the girls.

Laying the foundation for the coop…well…the first boards anyhow.

The 8×8 box framed in for the coop.

He can do it…he can build anything out of our pile of junk!

We cleared out an area, shoving all the garbage and debris into a pile on the side yard.  We will get it hauled away later.  I will tell you more about debris and having things hauled away in another blog post.

Now, my guy, he can throw anything together and make it work.  So he starts piecing this 8ftx8ft square together.  He calls me out and asks me to hold a couple of boards up while he screws them in place.  I had no idea he was going to do this over Labor Day weekend until Sunday morning when he stated his intentions.  So while he is sorting through the various piles looking for pieces of lumber, I start thinking about what I want in a coop.  What do we have that can be used that we want to get out of the house?  I am always looking for ways to get rid of things that are still in here.  I remembered an entertainment center that I thought would work as a place for nesting boxes. I emptied it out (it actually had a few salvageable games like Trivia Pursuit and Monopoly in it) and cleaned it up and the guys hauled it out.

A real door on hinges! So nice for going in and out.

Dad showing son how to do it. He may not want to build things but he will know how!!! Love my gate by the way!

The guys take a break. The walls up and the entertainment center (nesting boxes) installed!

A window so we can peek in to check on the girls without disturbing them.

Walls were put up.  A window (I have a few from a 1902 house that I have moved with me two times now with hopes of building a greenhouse SOMEday) was installed.  A light was found and installed.  An old door was found and it too was installed so that we can actually walk into the coop to attend to the girls.  That is a real nice change from the makeshift coop I’ve been entering all stooped over because it’s only 4 feet tall.  I can go in and collect eggs fully upright!  I like that.

The girls have access to the coop and the run during the day with the pop door.

Princess Diana, Thelma and Heavy Henrietta (she must weight 8lbs) enjoying their new hangout!

What more could they want. A fenced area, a pop door and a white picket fence gate! It beautiful!

Peggy and Goldie are checking out the coop. Let’s follow them and check it out ourselves!

Time to move some more debris out of the way.  We fenced in an area for a run. This isn’t being built with the intention of it being a permanent structure. It is just for the year or so we intend on being here.  The guys didn’t bother to dig holes for posts, they just built the fence with scraps of lumber and added a little picket fence gate because I liked it and wanted an entrance to the yard for hanging with my girls.

I asked for some roosting bars, a ramp for them to access the nests at the top of the entertainment center and of course the pop door for the girls to get out of the coop and into the run.

They all figured out the ramp real quick. The LOVE going into the nesting boxes.

I am peeking in through the window and look down to see a couple girls getting a drink! The waterer is automatic!

They didn’t have much area for roosting in the other coop, but they sure figured it out quick tonight!

The are trying to figure out who goes where. I had to take a couple of them out of the nests and put them on the roosts.

Looking in through the window I can see the entire coop!

Our Golden Laced Wyandotte is peeking over the separation slat. Isn’t she pretty?

There are plans of rigging up a pulley system for opening and closing the pop door, but we ran out of steam and time.  The weekend is over and it was time to get some dinner ready and prepare for the work week and the young man of the house has school tomorrow!  It is his senior year.  I’m sure he would have rather spent this last weekend doing something else, but he helped his dad and learned how to build something useable out of what many would have considered junk.  I am proud of them both and grateful for the wonderful new housing our chickens have.

“Big” BLR Wyandotte showing “Baby” how to roost…kind of.

The BLR’s getting a drink

These two love digging in the dirt in the corners.

“Baby” BLR Wyandotte is about 10 weeks old.

Baby is in front and Big is behind her eating some grapes.

Oh, and we also have 2 new chickens that arrive last week.  They are Blue Laced Red Wyandottes that were brought here from Utah on Monday.  My boyfriend’s cousin raises them and we hope to become Wyandotte breeders eventually.  So these cute girls (Baby Blue and Big Blue) are our beginnings!  And this mess of a house that we are making into a home is my guys’ and my beginnings.  I think we are doing pretty good so far!  We are making a home for us, for the last kid living at home who is soon to fly the coop and for our feathered kids!  It is going to be a heck of a year in what I had called “Hoarder’s Hell”, which is quickly becoming “Our Haven”.

Peggy (Austrolop)

Miss Peggy (Speckled Sussex)

Donna (Golden Laced Polish)

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More growth!

Any time with this precious little boy is worth any discomfort to me! Grandchildren are the gift of living life and staying alive!

I am uncomfortable in my life right now. It is not the first time, nor will it be the last. One thing that I hold on to…I have much to be grateful for no matter all the circumstances of a day or even a couple of weeks.

I had many experiences during the last couple weeks. I had revelations. I had “ahaa” moments. I laughed and cried and was hugged as well as rejected. I felt loved and gratitude as well as judgement of my life today as well as for past sins. It was a heck of a couple weeks.

I was with family!!!

This pot was my Grammy’s. My daughter owns it now and her and my grandson keep it filled each spring. This year it has violets…Grammy’s favorite!

My chosen family as well as my birth family and the family I birthed myself. That is just too much family for anyone to deal with in a 10 days time at my age. Seriously!

I have so many thoughts and emotions going on after finally arriving back to my little haven, which has it’s own issues. There are 35 baby chicks in the shop under my apartment and they are 13 weeks old and stink to the high heavens. One of my own layers is being a rogue at night and not coming in to roost! I have a mouse that comes at night and steals the treats I leave on the mousetrap! The last little bit I had set aside to rely on financially was depleted by a substantial amount from this trip. More than I anticipated. I pretty much came home broke!

Welcome to my life! It’s the only one I have. It has never ever been an easy life. I believe it is because of that I find such solace in my Layers and my Littles and my quiet life in the hills and dales of Southern Oregon. Most of the time anyhow.

 

I caught this Gray Heron fishing on the Rogue River! Amazing!

I left home on Thursday April 26th to spend the night in town with my guy before leaving on my journey. I had an early departure to caravan with another vehicle of friends heading to Seaside on Friday morning at 8:30 am! I was going on retreat at the beach! It was going to be wonderful!

This was at the rest area just south of Salem. I stopped there 29 years ago on May 30th, my birthday bringing home my 2nd son from being born at Salem Hospital!

Stopped here for lunch

This cute guy seemed to be questioning me. I was drawn to him. He had two legs and wings. I miss my girls when I am gone!

The Oregon coast is so beautiful! This was just north of Tillamook, OR

My caravan headed up I-5 with a stop at a rest area, a gas station and then lunch in Forest Grove, OR. I lived there back in the 1980’s. I still have a dear friend in the nearby town of Gaston that I try to visit whenever I am passing through. We passed one another on the highway the day I was heading to the coast! 🙂 (I also stopped in and saw him for a few minutes on my way back through headed to The Dalles). I also lived in Forest Grove back in the 1980’s and gave birth to my daughter in her Great Grandparents house there!

The beach was lovely. I was tired after traveling. I really don’t travel well. It exacerbates many of my pain issues. Saturday morning I woke in blinding pain. My fibro was in full swing! The change in the barometer as well as the 8 hour ride in the truck the day before had taken a toll. But I had offered to cook breakfast for any and all that wanted it so I forced myself to get up and move!!! Thank goodness I did lots of prep the night before. I was serving O’Brien hash browns and Bacon Mushroom and Swiss Fritatta for 9am breakfast and I cooked for 15. I was working in an unfamiliar kitchen. I cried while cooking. I was embarrassed about my pain and yet I followed through and did what I said I would do. It hurt physically no matter what I did, so at least I had to sense of accomplishment when it was done.

This was my view on a Saturday morning….I found some spiritual connection here…thank you God!

A nicely appointed kitchen for a rental place!

Bacon, spinach and swiss frittata made with eggs from my girls!

I went back to bed and slept for a few hours and then was up and out to workshops. I enjoyed a nice dinner with lots of old and new friends and then was back to the lovely accomodations at the lodge and a good nights rest. After a closing prayer on the beach Sunday morning with hundreds of people hunting clams in the distance, the retreat was over and it was time to head up the Columbia Gorge to help my daughter in the first days after a shoulder surgery.

It is painful to see clearcutting. We know the results. How can this continue?

Across the creek at Camp 18 on Hwy. 25.

I am always drawn to trains! My family was involved in railroading for 3 generations of men!

I wrote a letter to the editor about Sasquatch as a teenager. Let him be!

Oregon is so beautiful in the spring. I had not been to Multnomah falls in many years. I even trekked up to the bridge!

Looking across the Columbia River from the bridge at Multnomah Falls!

Still waters of Multnomah Creek.

Seaside, OR on Sunday morning!

Let me just say right now…I love my kids to a fault! I forgive them many things in hopes of being forgiven for my past misdeeds. I need to stop doing this! Not the loving part, but doing above and beyond the usual for others at this time in my life when I am doing all I can to just take care of myself is not healthy. I have been living a good life of recovery the last 3+ years. I may not do it perfectly, but I do it much better than I have before.

It was wonderful to be with my grandson and to see my daughter and my son who lives in the same apartments. It was nice to see such a different and yet beautiful environment. It was wonderful to be of service.

My little buddy and I took a walk to the ball park. He looks so small and yet he is growing so much!!!

We were at the ballpark while they were preparing the fields for a game. My little buddy had a great view!!!

Carrying on the train tradition in my family. My bestest buddy LOVES trains!

We found this bank of Clematis on our walk..my little buddy and I!

And then there were the not so comfortable times. I choose not to divulge them all here for the world to see. I will just say that family is not always easy. Especially for people in recovery. I had an overload of family and many times reverted to old coping mechanisms! They still don’t work. I don’t tolerate many things like I did in the past tho. My self preservation kicks in and not everyone likes the new me. The me that cares about ME! The me that sees how hard I am working and doing the best I can one day at a time. I have had many hard lessons that I can’t please everyone all the time! Nor should I have to.

It was good until it wasn’t, and then it was time to come home. My place of refuge. The place I can focus on me and taking care of myself. The place where I am loved and appreciated…if only by chickens! 🙂 And yet, I know that not to be true either. I have many wonderful people who have watched me grow and love me how I am wherever I am! And today… I love myself enough to do the next right thing for myself! That truly is growth.

A view from Cherry Heights in The Dalles, OR!

This monument is less than a block away from where I lived when I graduated from HS!

This was a photo I captured on my first day back in Southern OR!. It is home now!

My journey has led me home, where I can work more on healing old hurts, finding out how to live life on lifes terms and taking it One Day at a Time trusting God to provide all I need. It is the only way I can do what I do. It isn’t always comfortable and I still have not found and easy way in life! Life is work! Recovery from a life that has marred one is really a LOT of work! I may not have a J O B…but I am working…trust me!