What an Odd Day…

I’m going to blog here to see if I can put a finger on what thoughts are running around my head and why. It may or may not help.

January came and went. Christmas Eve was relaxed, getting ready for another Christmas day with new traditions now that I don’t see my family of origin. My in-laws usually have a lazy morning, exchanging personal gifts not exchanged the night before. Lunch at a Chinese restaurant followed by a movie. We got the call early Christmas morning that my FIL was having chest pains. He’s fine but he got to stay in the hospital for a few days. The Chief was happy to help out, letting his brother spend time with his wife and her parents. But it began an almost weekly trip to the ER for COVID (their first time getting it), side-effects of his Parkinson’s meds, and at least two falls. My SIL has initiated home care–day time twice a week and one overnight a week. Our MIL is resisting it but our FIL told her “It’s a gift, take it.” The Chief feels my SIL is being a little heavy handed and could be gentler but I rebutted that “they had two years to prep for this and his doctors feel he should have been in memory care last year.” I get that the Chief is protecting his mom and he struggles with letting go of control too. I’ve asked my SIL to help the girls stand their ground with him when it comes time to accepting help and home care, either for me or him. The Chief knows it’s the right thing, especially after on the day he flew out his father got out the front door and fell down the one step onto the porch, even with his walker, before his mom knew he had gotten out the door. Thus another ER visit. And baby gates and biometric locks were promptly installed throughout the house the following weekend.

It has been sobering.

Other stressors triggered my cPTSD. I wrote in my last post that T2 and I have had our differences. I realized because healthy wasn’t modeled for me that I wasn’t able to model it for her. At least not yet. She’s in her own world right now. She’s relying on her aunt and uncle. She texts her father before me even though we have a group chat.

And the only thing I hear in my head are the narcissistic and manipulative words of my birth parents. On repeat. Over and over again. The Chief will share with me something T2 has sent him and on more than one occasion I’ve had to type back, “I wouldn’t know. She hasn’t said anything to me.” I have to resist saying anything else to him and especially not to her. And the words of my birth parents get louder and louder. And it’s exhausting. Bone weary exhaustion and sadness.

So I keep every exchange polite and short.

My period came a week early and lasted two weeks. That means out of whack mood swings, lethargy, and hot flashes. Work is good but people are unnecessarily annoying the niceness out of me. Students. Teachers. All idiots.

Several weeks of night terrors. Some because of my poor choices and the guilt and consequences of less than Christian grace. Others because of the actions of others triggering me or causing new harm.

Then one Friday night, just before my online D&D group, I got more triggering news. It brought up too much. The game session itself wasn’t too bad until the last 20 minutes. I slept poorly having another nightmare. And everything blew up online that morning. Good grief. It’s a game with practical strangers! Walk away. Why fight to hold on to it? Because I know I wasn’t myself. Because the other player has his world imploding and wasn’t himself–where is the grace if I don’t try to work things out? We’re working through things and being civil and trying to show grace. Will it save the game? I hope so, but I have also taken responsibility and have offered the leave at the DM’s discretion.

We’ve had one weekend without an ER visit and hoping this weekend is the same. T2 is using the group chat more and at least responded to questions. My hormones are better but my blood sugar is whacky. At least I am not in Fight mode anymore.

But today I feel off. The house is too quiet. I had no plans. No D&D on Friday, none in person today. It bothered me that I could actually spend the whole day sleeping. 😱 That’s not me! I live for napping. I did get a friend to go on an hour walk with me and the dogs (and her grandpuppies) so that killed 2 hours. But by 6 pm I was bored. Not bored enough to go to the movies or something else by myself (I did that last weekend) but definitely blah.

I texted the Chief that busy weekends stress me out but having no plans has me on edge. I can’t win I guess.

Repeat & Add Craziness!

Does this year really need to repeat everything about last year?

One “perfect for you” job that I didn’t get. Adopt a dog on June 11. Second “perfect for you” job that I didn’t get. Now just waiting for that third job. Stinks. But I refuse to sink. I am trusting God again.

If I had gotten the first job this year, I’d be working full-time, 12-months a year. That just wouldn’t work right now. Two days ago we found out T1 has mild to moderate hearing loss of all the middle ranges in both ears.

Normal hearing is between -10 to 20 dB. T1 hears low sounds and high sounds in those ranges. Mild hearing deficit is between 20 to 40 dB. Moderate hearing deficit is between 40 to 70 dB. All of the middle sounds for T1 fell between 40 and 70 dB.

This is a “sound banana.” (Found on Pinterest, source unknown.)

The middle sounds are between 500 and 3,000 Hz.

During the word tests, if they turned up the volume she could hear about 88% in one ear and 92% in the other.

Of course I asked if this was from earwax (a chronic problem for her)…nope, no wax to speak of. She hasn’t had an ear infection since 2012 that we know of and currently no fluid behind the ear drums. I asked if this was from earbuds and always wearing them… nope, no evidence of sound trauma from the other tests they performed. Looks like a nerve deficit.

To say that I was stunned is putting it mildly. T1 handled it great–she is relieved to know the hearing loss is real. Maybe her sister will stop picking on her and calling her deaf!

In short I contacted every family member I could, but I was desperate to hear from the Chief. I eventually called the ship on the satellite phone. Something I don’t think I’ve done in like 5 years.

The ENT is recommending either an amplifier or hearing aids but he wants to find the cause by ruling out some pretty serious genetic conditions. In case you weren’t aware, the inner ears and the kidneys form in utero at the same time. Often if one has kidney disease, one has a hearing problem and vice versa. So T1 needs a urinalysis. There are some chronic heart conditions, not “momentary” like my SVT, that also could indicate a hearing issue. So T1 needs an EKG. Need to find a pediatric cardiologist. The inner cochlear bones could be malformed. So T1 needs a CT scan. The ENT could order the CT scan but I needed to get her pediatrician to either do the other tests or order them.

And after talking to a friend who just got hearing aids, those will be a series of appointments as well… one to get a trial pair, one to see how the trial went, one to fit the ones we’ll buy, one to retest in the booth how they are working, etc.

And the Chief is at sea and due to circumstances out of his control may not get home until the end of August.

Pediatrician visit and urinalysis complete today. Her pediatrician, who had only started her private practice within the year T1 was born and had seen her less than a day old, was in as much shock as I was. We talked family medical history and about all the testing the ENT wanted. Opted to get T1 into Children’s Hospital for the cardiologist rather than just a routine clinic EKG. (“If there is a problem she’ll need a cardiologist anyway…”) Of course I couldn’t get into the closest branch until late September but by choosing a different branch she could be seen sooner and at least I don’t have to go all the way to the big city like when T2 had her first mystery illness. Cardiologist scheduled for the 7th and the CT scan will be local on the 10th. Follow-up with the ENT on the 28th.

Last night we told her private teacher for viola lessons about the hearing deficit. After his initial shock he said, “Now things make sense. She doesn’t self-correct like she should.” She has college scholarship auditions to prepare for–now we know we have additional work to accomplish.

Got a call today to see if we wanted to start the hearing aid process. I am not ready for that. Gadgets are not my thing. I know the Chief will research every model out there and have all the pros and cons and customer reviews on hand. He’ll look at cost and efficiency. He wants to know if this will be progressive. I’m going to wait until the 28th, crossing my fingers that he will be home, to start the process. I am not up to doing this alone.

On the drive home today T1 was silent so at the red light I signed, Are you okay? Of course she scowled at me. I had been jokingly signing I love you since the day before. I stopped giggling and said, “I have to joke about it because I think if I didn’t, I’d cry.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

The light turned green and I caught her out of the corner of my eye signing Are you okay?

“Maybe I have to find your old sign language books and watch YouTube to teach myself sign language. I might need it in the future.”

Like I said, she’s handling it better than I am.

Describe a Moment of Change

And how you dealt with it.

Or at least I hope that is what the question was. Now that I think back, I hope it didn’t read a Moment of Challenge. But I think my answer might still apply.

I had my first of what I hope will be two interviews for a 12-month position at the school board. This was one of the questions.

My answer?

A chuckle. Then I answered, “I go through great change every 75 days!”

I spoke about how the girls and I work as a unit, stronger together. I spoke about some times getting only 12 hours notice. About putting myself aside to help my daughters adjust to life without the Chief. For 21 years. I talked about how we as a family have discussed the ramifications of what a 12-month job would mean for us, especially while the Chief was at sea.

You have to have routine but you have the be flexible enough for the changes that pop up. Or challenges.

Next up I hope to be one of two candidates called in on Friday for a follow-up interview with the Big Man. A decision will then be made either late Friday or on Monday before the School Board Meeting. Sigh. I hate waiting. Good thing T1 is getting her wisdom teeth out and I have that and house cleaning to occupy my time.

Here I go again..

What do depression and anxiety look like? I just looked in a mirror and saw for myself.

That’s where I’ve been. I think I am very fortunate that I saw the signs. I knew something was not right.

It is so hard to explain. And I was real, I mean REAL good at hiding it from the Chief. But not so good hiding it from my daughters, my best friend, or my SIL. Even now I struggle to find the words to describe it because it is almost indescribable–it just is.

I got the house decorated for Christmas in record time. The girls and I really enjoyed that. I enjoyed Black Friday shopping. I was listening to Christmas music since Thanksgiving. I enjoyed the candlelight tour of homes with my BIL and SIL. It wasn’t the typical “has the person lost interest and enjoyment in the things they once loved to do?” No. It was an overwhelming sense of dread and confusion and inability to make a simple decision. On the days I had to sub, I could get right up and get going… but when I got home from school I’d still want to curl up in the fetal position. Actually, the first alarm bell was the day I didn’t want to go to the gym. Not because it wasn’t enjoyable but because I had a day’s worth of activities following that I panicked over and worried about and couldn’t make a decision on.

I didn’t write my year-in-review letter. I had made a Christmas card with our beautiful family pictures we had taken in October. But I didn’t see a point to the letter. If you were in my life you knew what a year it was–tonsillectomy, ruptured L4/L5, subbing, surgery, camp, personal relationships in turmoil, my dad’s cancer… who wants to read all that and have a Merry Christmas?

And I didn’t want to host New Year’s Day. I just wasn’t feeling it. I didn’t know when the Chief was going to be home and I felt the world closing in.

One night the girls were fighting. T2 was pulling a stunt her sister had at that age, wanting something and not letting it drop–some absolutely annoying thing–right after I had shelled out $60+ to take us all to the movies. I will admit that as loud as I could reasonably do so in the theater lobby I called her a spoiled rotten brat. I drove them home and let them out and then drove away. I went less than a mile away and sat in my car at the park. I texted the Chief. He called the house to check on them. I played Sudoku for 2 hours. The oldest texted and I told her to tell her sister to go to bed; her too.

Then there was an incident over text messages with the Chief. Out of respect for him I won’t air the dirty laundry–we’ve already talked about it. But I stopped functioning. I sat in my car so that I wouldn’t curl into a ball on my bedroom floor. The girls were scared. A numb fog surrounded me. For days. Even the day he came home. I was ambivalent.

I described things to the Chief in these terms: anxious, fogged, as if every nerve in my body was on fire–I couldn’t handle loud noises or touch beyond the gentlest of caresses, an inability to see beyond the next minute let alone the next hour or day and if I had to think about it the pain and anxiety came back in a vicious cycle.

I had already made the decision to ask my therapist and GP to start some kind of antidepressant. Now it was just a matter of making it through the holidays until my appointment. I didn’t host New Year’s… getting a nasty case of Strep throat and a sinus infection was the perfect excuse. I had hoped the Chief could have gone with me to my GP but he had to leave for a class. We decided to start on Cymbalta for a couple of reasons–it is used for pain management and doesn’t seem to have a weight gain side-effect.

It took about 10-14 days for me to start to feel normal again.

The Chief has honestly said he doesn’t know if it is making a difference–I was REALLY that GOOD at hiding it from him. I guess that’s a hazard of this lifestyle. But he has been so supportive and understanding once we really had a heart to heart. I haven’t had the courage to talk to the girls about it to see if they’ve noticed.

I’ve been on Cymbalta for 40 days now. The Chief has gone back to sea. I feel fortunate that I was that aware of something wrong. It was gradual … two years building up with one kick after another… but I think my dad’s cancer scare left me so raw that the misunderstanding between the Chief and I just highlighted how broken, how out of balance I was.

Do I hope I’m only on Cymbalta for a short time, like when I had post-partum depression? Sure. But I also know it may be a long-term solution.

The day I didn’t dread going to the gym was the day I knew I was turning a corner. I guess this is another corner in this journey.