Congratulations, it's a _______!

Well, we had our 20 week ultrasound a week ago today (tomorrow I'll be 21 weeks...time is actually going pretty fast). The ultrasound tech, with whom I'm on a first name basis since that was my SIXTH ultrasound in this pregnancy, was great as she usually is and she pointed out all sorts of interesting bits of anatomy; this is the upper lip, this is the femur, this is the spine, which was all quite neat really. Throughout this time though there's always part of me going 'holy moly there's a PERSON inside of me! A person with a beating heart and a full bladder apparently!' Its a very odd sensation to know that and over the past week or so the movements of the child have changed from flutterings and bubblings to a weird grinding sensation that is distinctly unpleasant but continues to reinforce that strange feeling of 'there's a person in me'. (At least I'm assuming that this sensation is the fetus moving, has anyone else had that grinding feeling?)

The ultrasound was long since she was scanning all the kid's little parts and I find it quite uncomfortable in general but Paul was holding my hand and we were so excited waiting to hear the gender. The tech showed us how the baby had its little legs neatly crossed at the ankle so there was no way to see its wee bits - the crossed legs were pretty awesome though too, it looked so cute. So she started jiggling the transducer (is that what its called? I think so) on my belly to get baby to move and baby did not want to show itself. She jiggled and jiggled and it did not feel good and she kept jiggling more. Finally she suggested that I lie on my side. This was okay except that I couldn't see the monitor so I didn't know what was happening. Paul squeezed my hand and was quiet for a second and then we had the following conversation:

Him - There it is.

Me - There what is? What?

Him - It.

Me - WHAT? WHAT WHAT WHAT!?

Ultrasound Tech - Yup, its a boy.

Me - *bursts into tears*

Him - Is that bad? Are you sad? Is that okay? Are you sad crying?

Me - No, I'm not sad crying.

Paul - That's our _______. (I'm not telling the name at least yet)

Me - *cries harder*

It was a great moment and the scan was perfect, all of his parts are in place and in good shape so far. I would like to post the ultrasound pictures but I scanned them and they are very grainy - to the point that you may not even really be able to see them. I'll try on another scanner and see what I can do. In the meantime, 19 weeks to go til we meet our son.

Tears of...

Dangit, I've cried twice at work today! We're playing Christmas songs here now and Christmas songs in general make me just woozy with nostalgia. So far I've heard two different versions of "I'll be home for Christmas" which is just really the saddest song ever, but I did manage not to cry the second time I heard it. Then they played that cursed "Feed the World" or "Do They Know Its Christmas" or whatever its called. I can't help it, I love that song, I think it evokes such a vivid picture of how much we have and how little so many others have. I get weepy right from the beginning but then when it gets to the part where Bono belts out "Well tonight thank God it's them instead of you" I nearly fall over dead. See, now I'm crying again.

I'm so excited about our trip to Canada next week but so nervous about the cost and the dogs (being boarded) and customs and all the things that still need to be done in the next week while I'm still trying to unpack boxes from our recent move that I'm just a bundle of frayed nerves waiting for an excuse to bawl again. Don't you wish you were married to me?

In which I become one of THOSE people

I've been realizing something recently; I've always been a total animal lover but I got much more so since I became part of a family filled with what, in bed at night, feels like as many as 30 or 40 dogs and their long, poky legs. I find lately that watching shows about animals and spending time with my animals or other people's is what makes me happiest and most calm.

On Oprah a week or two ago they had a report on how our food animals are treated before we kill them and eat them. There was a journalist on the show named Nicholas Kristof discussing his recent New York Times article about growing up on a farm. Here's the part of the article that really touched me:

Then there were the geese, the most admirable creatures I've ever met. We raised Chinese white geese, a common breed, and they have distinctive personalities. They mate for life and adhere to family values that would shame most of those who dine on them.

While one of our geese was sitting on her eggs, her gander would go out foraging for food—and if he found some delicacy, he would rush back to give it to his mate. Sometimes I would offer males a dish of corn to fatten them up—but it was impossible, for they would take it all home to their true loves.

Once a month or so, we would slaughter the geese. When I was 10 years old, my job was to lock the geese in the barn and then rush and grab one. Then I would take it out and hold it by its wings on the chopping block while my Dad or someone else swung the ax.

The 150 geese knew that something dreadful was happening and would cower in a far corner of the barn, and run away in terror as I approached. Then I would grab one and carry it away as it screeched and struggled in my arms.

Very often, one goose would bravely step away from the panicked flock and walk tremulously toward me. It would be the mate of the one I had caught, male or female, and it would step right up to me, protesting pitifully. It would be frightened out of its wits, but still determined to stand with and comfort its lover.

That story solidified for me what I've been feeling lately. Over and over in the past few weeks I have found that animals show us how life should be lived. They love with unrestrained fervor, they play with complete abandon and then sleep the sleep of the totally content. When God said that man should have dominion over the creatures He created He did not mean that we could torture them so our food would be cheaper or that we could shoot them purely for entertainment or that we could put them in circuses and make them perform for our amusement (and then when they go rogue because we're torturing them we shoot them and say 'how could that have happened?!'). I believe that when we die we will have to answer for our sins, each one, to God. And I believe too that God will ask us to account for the way we treat the animals that He created.

"The King will answer them, 'Most certainly I tell you, inasmuch as you did it to one of the least of these, you did it to me.'

--Matthew 25:40

Just my opinion.

Still Going

We're doing okay. Paul gets over things quickly and has tons of faith that we will be blessed again with a baby. I get over things much more slowly plus I'm still in discomfort with moments of significant pain and still bleeding so I can't even begin to emotionally get past this while I'm still physically going through it.

I miss her (I thought of the baby as female almost immediately for some reason). For a few days there I had this amazing secret, I was growing a child inside of me. When I started getting a bit of bleeding, before I became worried, I read a lot about implantation bleeding and so I talked to my little girl and told her to find a good spot and hold on tight. And when the bleeding got worse and I knew something was wrong I talked more and told her how badly we wanted her and how she should please work hard and stay with us. So now I miss her, I feel so empty and lonely and I'm so very tired.

Thanks again guys for everything. I'll continue to keep you updated and hopefully soon I'll be able to talk about something other than our loss.

Ernest Hemingway has a whole lot of wisdom I've learned. This is my current favorite:

"The world breaks everyone and afterward many are stronger at the broken places. "

Thanks guys, for the comments and a whole lot of emails. My 'internet friends' have overwhelmed me in the past while with their support. Every email or comment or phone call that I've received has raised my spirits for a moment and at this point even a moment is more than I could have hoped for.

Thank you to those of you who have reached out to Paul and I and offered your support, and thanks especially that you reached out and didn't wait for me to do it...cause I can't. I have some tremendous friends.

Gone

In the spirit of the tremendous support that I've gotten from some of my readers in past times of crisis, I'm going to share something that I never, ever wanted to have to share.

Paul and I had a wonderful six days this past week. I took a pregnancy test a week ago Sunday and it was positive. Then I took two more and they were positive too. It was the happiest day of our lives. On Saturday, though, I began to get cramps and bleed and I had to go to the ER. At the ER they told us that they had seen the gestational sac on our ultrasound and prescribed me progesterone to help me maintain the pregnancy. By the time we got home though there was a message on our answering machine that they had mixed me up with someone else and that there was no evidence of a pregnancy remaining on my ultrasound and that the prescriptions were for the other woman who still had her child. We went to the OB today and were told that the baby was probably gone and that I was in the process of miscarrying. For some this is more of a rapid process than others, for me it has been four full days of bleeding and discomfort and that may continue for another week or even more.

I never dreamed I would have to say this but we were pregnant and we lost our child. Please bear with me in the next little while as our grief is almost more than we can handle. We will continue to hope and pray and try but God feels very distant from us right now and we wish sometimes that we could understand his ways a little better. It is difficult to understand how God decides who should be blessed with a baby and when. It is difficult too, sometimes, to believe that God isn't 'angry' with me or with us when life has been so hard.

Please pray for us if you believe in that kind of thing...pray that we will be able to come to terms with this, pray that we will get pregnant again and, please, that the bleeding and pain will end soon so that if this is going to be over it will be over soon.

Whether or not I take my Zoloft is UP TO YOU! (A happiness survey)

I have lots of updating and commenting on comments that I need/want to do, but first I want to write about this since I am desperately curious to know the answer to a question.

Some background:
I've been utterly fascinated with the topic of 'happiness' lately, and it seems that other people are too. I've seen more than one 'report on happiness' on those hour long information-style shows. Its an interesting topic because its something that every single person wants and so many of us don't have. To me the most interesting aspect is what makes us happy. The 60 Minutes report that I watched discussed Denmark and how it is known to be the happiest country in the world.

"Dorset says that contentment may stem from the fact that Denmark is almost totally homogenous, has no large disparities of wealth, and has had very little national turmoil for more than a half century. "We have very little violence. We have very little murders. So people are, feel very safe," he says. He says people feel secure. "[A] knife stabbing makes the front page every time. Yeah, I don't think that happens in America very often," Dorset says."

Fascinating, no? I think that the large disparities of wealth here in America and Canada are sometimes the most difficult for us. I know they are for me. I know that in many countries around the world people are starving and homeless...but I don't see them or talk to them. I do, however, see the people on the Suze Orman show who ask her if they can afford a villa in the south of France. 'Show me the money,' she replies and they start off with 'well, our combined monthly income is $12000, we have $500000 in an IRA and another $250000 in savings...' Fuck you, seriously. As a (relatively) poor person, looking for work, filled with anxiety and depression - that kind of disparity makes me almost physically sick. And there's rarely a rhyme or reason to it, the hardest working single moms are the ones, often, who can barely afford their rent and the slackers who get their job from Daddy make enough to buy a new car every year and pay for their home outright. Um, bitter much? (And don't bitch at me for my generalizations - depression, let me tell you, gives you the amazing ability to generalize like you would NOT BELIEVE.)

The thing for us is that Paul and I would have enough money if it weren't for his debts - 75% of which is student loans. He thought that becoming an engineer would be a virtually guaranteed well paying job so the student loans would be worth it. Nope. So, next quote:

"(the Danes) have no student loans hanging over their heads. All education is free in Denmark, right on through university. And students can take as long as they like to complete their studies. "And we get paid to go to school actually. Instead of in the U.S. you pay to go to school, we get paid to go to school if we pass our exams," a student explains.

"Americans watching this particularly people your age would be bowled over by the very idea that the government pays you to go to school," Safer remarks. "Yeah," the student acknowledges. "I'm being paid right now for not going to school. I'm being paid for parenting," another male student tells Safer. "It's 100 percent paid for by the government for half a year."

Denmark also provides free health care, subsidized child care and elder care, a social safety net spread the length and breadth of the country. "I mean, we're pretty much free to do whatever we want. We're secure from the day we're born. For a Dane who lives in Denmark," a male tells Safer. "

There's the key, I think, the key to what would make me happy and content and most of you too "We're secure from the day we're born." Denmark has got it absolutely right. Absolutely.

The price the Danes pay is an approximately %50 rate of taxation. Steep, but if you got free school, free health care, paid maternity/paternity leave etc., wouldn't you be willing to pay %50? I sure as hell would. We would be better off by a huge margin right now if we made 50% less (really more like %25 when you take into account the taxes we already pay and our skyrocketing health insurance premiums) but had no health care costs and student loan debts.

Oh, and the Danes also work, on average, 37 hours a week and get, on average, 6 weeks of vacation. So, do you all want to live there now?

Basically, what this article indicates is that Danes feel 'tucked in' by their government. They feel that it is uncorrupt and that it genuinely has their best interest at heart. As well, they feel that their world is stable and predictable. I cried a lot after I watched the show because it was like someone had put into words exactly what I feel that I lack in life. Our life is absolutely unstable and unpredictable. Right now rent has not been paid and is four days late, how we will pay it is as yet unknown. We will work it out, in the end, we always do. But in the meantime - unstable, unpredictable, unfair. You name it.

I'm getting closer to the question, I swear.

A few weeks ago I called my mom, and my dad answered. He is a great dad but we don't have too much to say to each other so its usually just 'how are you' and then talk to mom. Every time I ask my dad how he is he says "Great!" With genuine enthusiasm. I asked him in this call if he was really and truly 'great' "Are you really that happy and perky every day, Dad? Are you really 'great'. He thought for a split second and then answered that he sure was. "Life is good," he said. (I asked him further if he had always felt that way and he said that it got more so as he got older, which I'm clinging to as a lifeline of hope for myself as I age.)

I thought about all of this a lot; Denmark and my Dad and the other things I had heard about happiness and then I got to talk to a checker at Walmart yesterday. I was having a truly hideous day already and then grocery shopping while trying to decide what's crucial and what has to be cut out due to lack of funds, plus reading labels and trying to find food that's low sugar, low carb, low sodium, low fat etc. You can imagine my mood. The cashier asked me how I was and you know how some days you just can't do the generic 'Fine, and you?' It was one of those days. I said 'I'm actually really shitty, how are you'. 'Life is great!' he said. I pursued that and asked him if it really was and he said 'any day I'm on God's green earth is a good day,' and I think he really meant it! This guy was middle aged, gray hair, quite overweight, thick glasses, no wedding ring, not the guy we normally assume is going to be happy. But he was!

So, I couldn't stop thinking about this. I know that I'm depressed so I'm a poor judge, but I want to know 'how happy or content are you?' On a scale of 1 to 10 on an average day. I really, truly want to know because I think it will be A) interesting and B) give me an idea of where I should be. Cause I ain't there now.

Are you happy?

Money DOES buy happiness and if you think it doesn't, it is because you have some

I'm tired. Being poor makes you tired. Exhausted. I have no jobs on the horizon yet (although I've applied for four very promising ones in the past week) and Paul's company put a halt to all overtime as of today and between Paul's new diabetes prescriptions and the prescriptions my opthalmologist gave me yesterday we now have $165 in medication cost per month. We don't have $165! We don't have anything, we can never go on dates, we need haircuts, we need clothes and we can't do any of it. Paul is on day 9 of 12 days in a row of work and yet we STILL can't make any progress. Well, that's not true, we are actively paying off four debts right now and that's great, its just overextending us FAR past what we can take.

Between our illnesses and my lack of work and Paul's too much work and constantly sick dogs and unexpected expenses and on and on we are tapped out in every sense of the word. Plus there is another factor in our lives that I cannot under any circumstances talk about but involves someone we know who is making our lives 10 times more miserable and there is nothing we can do about it. I've talked to my mom about this person and my mom, the devout Christian believes that this person is literally possessed by the devil.

I hear about how poor people have a higher rate of divorce and die sooner and things like that and I totally get that. Utterly. I can't imagine that there is anything more fatiguing than being poor. You can't work to fix any of your problems because it costs money to try and fix them and you can't go out and have fun to try and forget your problems for a bit cause you don't have money to do that. Not to mention that poor people are often fat and unhealthy because healthy food costs about 3 times more than unhealthy food so that makes we poor people die sooner too.

I've been trying to be a bit more upbeat lately and sometimes I succeed for a bit but today I can't. Maybe I can tomorrow again but today I can't. I firmly believe that for us, money would buy happiness. We are exhausted. I'm not sure how much longer I can live like this.

So much pride in my new country

Three and a half years ago I began visiting the southern US. I spent most of my time in Atlanta and was, honestly, amazed at how much of the population was black. (The city where I spent most of my adult life is around 2 or 3 % black.) I didn't mind, understand, but it was new and different for me. I would walk the dog through Paul's apartment complex and say hi to the other dog walkers (and one cat walker) and some days they were all black, except me. At first I couldn't understand every southern person, especially the young black men and women, they seemed to have a language all their own and I didn't always understand the accent or the words, much to my chagrin. I met a 60 year old black man at the body shop that Paul managed and when I said hello he ducked his head, called me 'ma'am' and backed away. I asked Paul why and he smiled sadly and said, 'he's old and he's black, he remembers what it was like to be called names that you can't imagine. He remembers segregated buses and bathrooms and, well, segregated lives.' Just a few days ago an acquaintance of Paul's referred to a black man as a 'spearchucker'. I love the South; the beauty of the terrain and the openness of the people but this racism is also part of the South that I have come to know.

Now, three years later, I pretty much understand every southerner. The other day I said 'dang' and 'y'all' in the same sentence. My only friends here in Tennessee are black. And now, so soon after I saw for the first time the racism that still exists here, a black man may well be the next president. I haven't stopped weeping tears of joy for two days. I am so proud, so very proud that finally there are enough people in this country who don't select their friends and employees and government officials by the color of the skin but by the content of their character - to quote another great black man.

I'm not an American citizen, only a resident here but Paul and I celebrated Senator Obama's presumptive nomination by printing out a voter registration for him and sending it in. Paul hasn't voted in ...well, a while, but I can assure you that I will be bawling all over again when he casts the vote for the change we so desperately need in this country.

One day I will be able to write that the next president of the United States is a woman, but for now 'may the best man win!'

Well, I guess I'll have to devote the rest of the day to crying now.

Paul says the picture below is way too sad to post on the blog but here's the thing, I like when people read this blog and I hope that they do and that they enjoy it (and click on the ads, k?) but ultimately, I'm gonna put whatever content I want on it. If I wanted to focus on something in particular, I would, but my vision for this blog is just a simple snapshot of my life and what goes on in my head.

I had a long talk with my sister Bernice the other day and I said some stuff that she thought was insane (I get that a lot from my family) and I found myself saying something to the effect that it -might- be crazy, maybe I -am- crazy, 20+ years of depression is -going- to change your brain, its chemistry and its outlook on life. And then I realized that I absolutely believe that. I don't like the fact that I have to interrupt my day 3, 5, 10 times every day to cry, but I do like the fact that I am so moved by the world and its people and its animals and its Creator. I don't want to have had a life of depression, but it has made me who I am and although I am not always fond of myself, I'm fiercely proud of the fact that I'm still alive and kicking and I'm thrilled that I have a husband who smiles at me with such love when I cry about some phone company commercial or picture on the Internet because he loves 'emotional me' too.

Life has not turned out how I expected, but on this blog you maybe get to see little pictures of what my life is like. Maybe you fnd that interesting, or maybe it helps you understand how I tick (f you're a friend or family member and WANT to understand how I tick) or maybe it bores or irritates you and that's okay too, bye!

This picture is so very, very sad and I want to help this man and dog so badly but the picture can be seen as so wonderfully happy too, in a way. This man may be homeless (and I don't think the picture was set up, my cynical husband, but even if it was, I'm sure this happens on a tragically regular basis) but he still gets unconditional love and affection from his dog and that's more than some people get from anyone in a lifetime.


see more cute dogs and puppies

If you look at the comments associated with the picture you'll find a link to a place where you can donate to homeless pets and their humans...might be more productive than just crying about it, I suppose.

Optipessimist

I had an epiphany the other day! For me it was actually a pretty profound new idea about the sadness that has been my near constant companion for decades. I always think of myself as an extreme pessimist and I assumed that that was part of my depression, but, I've now determined that a significant portion (50% or more I'd venture to say) is because of my optimism.

You heard me right, me - an optimist. In one way at least. Here's the thing, growing up I had some complaints about my parents, as we all do, but there were many, many things they did 'right' and a big one was that they followed through on their commitments and promises. If my dad says that he will do something, he will damn well do it and he will do it every time and if for some strange reason he forgets he will go out and do it the moment he remembers. My mom stressed to me every day that you shouldn't lie, that it is a sin and that if you tell someone you are going to do something for them, to them, with them, YOU WILL DO IT or you have told a LIE. I grew up believing that to be true. Its a wonderful lesson to teach your kids but sadly for me it mostly made me angry because folks - in the real world people don't follow through on their promises.

Its the little things that make me the most angry, really, especially if they are unasked for in the first place. For example, if sometime before your birthday someone says to you 'I'm going to take you out for a great lunch on your birthday', then they should do that. And if they can't, they should bring it up and apologize. If someone says 'I'm going to email you that information tomorrow', then they should email that information tomorrow, and if they can't for some reason, they should take it upon themselves to contact you and let you know why and if and when you should expect the information. To me this is the most basic of common courtesies, really as basic as saying 'excuse me' when you sneeze in public but these days people seem to feel so entitled to have what they want, when they want it, how they want it, that even these most common courtesies have fallen by the wayside. I did not ASK for a birthday lunch, but you volunteered so you have to DO IT OR EXPLAIN WHY YOU CAN'T! I did not ask for that information you told me you have, but when you told me you were going to email it tomorrow that was a promise and you have to DO IT OR EXPLAIN WHY YOU CAN'T!

The unasked for part is a huge part of this issue for me. If I asked you to do something for me you may have felt pressured to say yes even though you knew you probably couldn't. But if you bring up the subject and then don't do what you claimed you would how is that helpful? Did you just need to make yourself feel important? Did you, and this is a biggie to me too, ever have any intention of following through with your promise?

I don't know if I've been surrounded by people like this more than others or if -most- people are like this but its frustrating as hell. And what makes me depressed is that I believe them every time. Every time someone tells me something they are going to do or say I think to myself 'well, why would they bring it up if they weren't going to do it? THIS TIME they mean it!' And then I repeat that to Paul and he shakes his head sadly and says 'you're so sweet, Jenn, and I hope they do'. This leaves me in an almost constant state of 'being let down'. Every time I believe and every time I am disappointed my heart gets a little smaller and sadder.

I would love to hear your comments on this, folks. Like how you deal with this when its done to you or if you are one of these people who does this to others. How do you maintain realism in your expectations without becoming hard and bitter? But, honest to God, if anyone says 'you just have to let it roll off your back' I'll REACH THROUGH THE COMPUTER AND STRANGLE YOU!

Because the blogosphere can always use more posts about depression! Right?

Had my follow-up doctor's appointment yesterday. Treadmill test indicated no heart problems, had another blood test so we can try and figure out why my liver profile is abnormal, most of my physical symptoms remain but are somewhat lessened and without a diagnosis or even possible diagnosis I'm trying to let them just drift to the back of my mind. I did, however, walk away with a prescription (unasked for) for Zoloft.

I was foolishly trying to rely on external factors to make me happy; a job, friends, a baby, money, a husband, etc. to make me not depressed and since I only have one out of five of those things it wasn't working. I haven't filled the prescription yet, I don't want to...but I guess I'll have to. Paul really wants me to as he doesn't have much experience with depression and I think he has pretty much reached the end of his patience rope with me. And I guess I want to too...I don't know. I won't start this weekend anyway since Paul will be out of town LARP-ing. Next week though I guess I'll give it a shot.

I knew the depression was on an upswing again lately; partly because of circumstances (horrible money news again as well as the above mentioned factors) and partly because I recognize some of the symptoms that I get. For me, one of the major symptoms is that I start stripping my life down even barer than it already is. Stuff gets thrown away (even though I may kind of want it again later), the house gets cleaned and pared down ruthlessly. Even my bookmarked internet links and Facebook profile etc get absolutely torn down because I can't stand having anything extraneous around. I have done so much research on depression in my lifetime but this is not a symptom that I have read about before, its just my own experience. I wonder if its common.

So that's where I'm at. Could be worse but the depressed mind doesn't see that does it?

Shut up about 'our song' being super lame!

My Paul turned 31 today. He is a good man and he didn't get NEARLY enough affection and attention today.

Paul, I am, as always, hoping the next years of our life together get easier than they have been, since Lord knows they have been and continue to be tough...but at least we have each other. We are a team. You and me against the world.



(Darn, the original video I posted didn't have the best part in it so I had to change it to this no video video. Seriously, though, who would post the thing without the strings 3/4 of the way through? Oh Lord, the strings!)

In My Mind...

I am absolutely overwhelmed lately with a desire to change, with a craving to learn, with a need to serve a purpose in this world. It is at times wonderful and joyous as I acquire a new ability. It is at other times painful and heartwrenching as I realize I don't have the money, energy or inspiration to know where to do good. One half of me wants to change myself and then change the world, but then the other half of me wants to lie on the couch like Andy Capp (does that reference make me ancient?) and watch The Biggest Loser and eat icy wafers (bitterly ironic, no?)

For days I have tried to formulate this post in my head and I don't know where to begin...that first paragraph is, looking back at it though, a remarkably good encapsulation of my current headspace and yet I know that to most of you it will be rather vague.

Many of you, I'm sure, feel like I do; that you have so damn much potential and nowhere to put it. Or, more accurately, no knowledge of where you should be putting it. I find myself DVRing tons of shows lately, but very few sitcoms and hour dramas, and more shows from the book learnin' type channels. On the list right now, waiting for me to watch, are a show about the endangered manatees (watched a few minutes already and BAWLED), a show about where the Ark of the Covenant might be (Africa, apparently), and a show about what its like to be a Jew in America today. I suddenly want to learn and to do new things and to help the world. But good Lord, I don't know where to begin - my own life is mostly in a shambles, how can I try to help others?

I'm always seeing Dr. Phil and other TV psychologists and psychiatrists etc. saying 'the root of your problem is anger, what are you so angry about?' And I know that that is my problem too; anger at the pain and injustice and hunger and war in the world...and anger that all I have the energy to focus on is affording meals with vegetables in them, preventing my dogs from pooping on the floor and keeping myself from lying in a heap and wailing.

I've lost 30 pounds in the last 8 months or so and I'm eating so much healthier; I eat vegetables now (okay, well purees hidden in other things), I avoid most of my allergic-to foods, I drink only water (my insatiable cravings for Diet Coke are almost totally gone, the two litre bottle of it in the fridge has gone very flat). We've paid off thousands of dollars in debt in the past 3 years as well, accumulated no more (except for the doctor bills from the past few months) and raised Paul's credit score by around 50 points so far. I'm doing devotions more regularly and talking to God more. I'm actively striving to 'fix' my mental and physical health. I have my green card and Social Security number after years of work. These are just some of my accomplishments of the past few years and yet it all seems so very, very insignificant. After all that I'm still sick, in my body and my mind, we're still hideously in debt and perpetually broke etc. And, after all that, does any of that even matter when the world is going to hell in a handbasket in so many ways. Geez.

I'm not...sad (for lack of a better word) about all of this, I'm edgy, jumpy, foot-tappingly restless. How do I best serve myself, my husband, my God, my world? Should I even be thinking about the rest of the world when my own life is so chaotic? Is that exactly when I should be thinking globally? I have to DO SOMETHING, but what? Therapists are really expensive, but this blog is free so at least I can write it down.

Vacation of a Lifetime

I try not to write about this too much anymore because as my depression worsens and the chest pain business stays the same, I see/hear people begin to drift off from me again 'oh man, I canNOT DO this again' I hear them saying in their heads. And I don't blame them. But just to give you an idea of how very fucked up I am...today as my pulse climbed to 100 bpm for no reason, I figured that I better get directions to the nearest hospital in our town just in case that became a necessity. I found this
and it became my new dream destination. I don't want to go to the beaches of the Caribbean or the moors of Scotland, I want to go to the Methodist Chest Pain Center!

Stream of Consciousness

So many things to post about, brain is swimming with ideas. Tell people about:

- 2008 New Year's Resolutions

- How Andrea doesn't plan and things fall into place and I plan obsessively and NOTHING works out for me and then I get negative and people say 'you shouldn't be so negative' and then I say 'HELLO, are you familiar with the concept of clinical depression?!' and then they say 'you expect things to go badly and then they do' and then I say 'no, no, things have always gone badly so I KNOW they will continue to and then they do'.

- How there are 54 days til we have health insurance again and I will be REALLY IMPRESSED with God if He keeps me out of the ER for that long. Hear that, God? Really impressed!

- How pissy it makes me that the 'Which Sex and the City Character are you' quiz on Facebook said that I was Miranda when I'm so CLEARLY Charlotte but then when I thought about it more I realized I was Miranda, the most obnoxious character on the show (next to Big and don't even get me started about how Carrie ended up with Big and the whole show ended when all the strong, independent women found love, true love. GAH!)

- How my friends and I used to always try to decide which TV character we were most like and I always thought is was so definitely Monica from Friends (if she never lost the weight) but then I realized the other day that I am so totally and obviously a female version of Alan Harper on Two and a Half Men.

Slightly manic today, can you tell?

I need a pensieve

Hey party people. I'm alone here on New Year's Eve, Paul is working, and I'm feeling in a right pensive mood. I've eaten ice cream and played some Scrabulous and done a lot of NYE thinking. Some good happened this year, like the very best thing, getting to marry my Paul. A whole hell of a lot bad happened too and is continuing to happen. I feel these days as though my grasp on sanity is increasingly tenuous and it gets very tempting some days to let the last thread of sanity slip through my fingers so I can enjoy the calmness of C-R-A-Z-Y. So far, so good though.

For me, and for so many of you out there, 2007 was a real shithole of a year and you commiserated with me and I commiserated with you and I want to thank you for that. I learned a whole lot this year, some positive things and some negative...but the one thing that was really hammered into my rock hard head was this; the people who are supposed to love you always and care for you completely often will not, but the people from whom you least expect it will step up and give you the words of encouragement or the moment of laughter that you need when you need it most. Some of my 'internet friends' are the most meaningful people in my life because, although I may not talk to them a lot, they give me what I need and allow me to give them what I have to give. So, hey, friends who read this? So many of you rock my world on a regular basis and you'll never know how much your comments, emails and chats mean to me. I'm thinking here of at least a dozen of you, but Nancy and the other Jennifer G., you guys especially.

My fondest wish for you, my dear readers, is that your 2008 will be better than your 2007. Health, happiness, love, security and stability - these things I wish for you today and for the next 365.

Happy New Year!

And, now I'm crying again

Thanks to the miracle of DVR I have been able to watch two of my favorite Christmas movies recently. Last night was Elf, and I'm sorry, but I just think its hysterical. Will Ferrell is fantasticly cute, as always, Zooey Deschanel is charming and can sing! And any movie that has Bob Newhart dressed up as an elf is fine by me. I just think that the childlike wonder Will Ferrell brings to the part is the perfect feeling for a Christmas movie.

And then, there's Love Actually. Do not even get me STARTED on how much I love this movie. Even Keira Knightley and her frying pan face don't ruin it for me. I'm not going to rant and rave about each moment that I love, since its most of them, but I am going to end with a quote from Hugh Grant who says this as a voiceover at the beginning of the movie. This may or may not be my last post before Christmas, but regardless this is my message to you for Christmas whether you are celebrating the birth of our Savior or celebrating the fact that the holidays are for family and love and stuffing yourself full of red raspberry hard candies. Merry Christmas!

Whenever I get gloomy with the state of the world, I think about the
arrivals gate at Heathrow Airport. General opinion's starting to make
out that we live in a world of hatred and greed, but I don't see that.
It seems to me that love is everywhere. Often it's not particularly
dignified or newsworthy, but it's always there - fathers and sons,
mothers and daughters, husbands and wives, boyfriends, girlfriends, old
friends. When the planes hit the Twin Towers, as far as I know none of
the phone calls from the people on board were messages of hate or
revenge - they were all messages of love. If you look for it, I've got a
sneaking suspision love actually is all around.

Starts off sad, ends off sappy

How did we afford to move, you ask? Well, thank the Lord above that both sets of parents had already told us earlier in the year that this year's Christmas gifts were going to be cold, hard cash. And thankfully, both sets of parents agreed to send us the money early. Without them I do not know what we would have done at all.

Sadly, that means no gifts at Christmas for us. We don't really exchange gifts with our siblings (although this year they all got wedding photos) or friends and the parents have already sent their generous gifts so we will be gift free this year. Neither Paul nor I are materialistic even a little bit but we have been so 'treat-starved' over the past year that we wish we could at least buy each other some stuff. Its so hard, but I hope that next year this will all be a distant memory.

We did actually each get a CD though. Six weeks ago or so I got an unexpected small check and I used it to buy Paul a compilation CD that I knew he really wanted. At the time it was to be the first of several Christmas gifts but then the move came upon us and suddenly it was the only gift. I gave it to him a few days ago when I found it in a moving box so that he could listen on the drive to and from work.

Paul bought me a CD too because as Christmas approached I went to get out my trusty Amy Grant Christmas Album (Best Christmas CD EVER) and found the case to be empty. I'm baffled by that since I never lose anything! Of course I would lose the one thing I really, really wanted. I was so sad that my sweet Paul took $10 that we do NOT have and went to Wal-Mart to get it for me.

I've been listening to this album at Christmas for, literally, 20 years. First on tape and then on CD but it never occurred to me when we re-bought it that the first song was so appropriate:

"Another tender Tennessee christmas is the only christmas for me.
Where the love circles around us, like the gifts around our tree.
Well I know there's more snow up in Colorado than my roof will ever see.
But a tender Tennessee christmas is the only christmas for me."

(Sorry, Kim!)

***EDIT***

Okay, I'm calmer now. I wrote a tirade about Budget rent a truck, but in the end we got our truck, so I figured that I would delete my chock-full-o-swearing post. Movers are here, they are very fast.