I am sitting here, watching "A Beautiful Mind". I'm at the part of the movie where they are showing John Nash's life after the hospitals and how his family and friends are coping with his diagnosis of paranoid schizophrenia and behaviours that come along with it.
You can see in the movie how difficult it is for Mr. Nash to cope with everyday life and how difficult it is for his wife to cope with his behaviours and how they affect their lives together. It shows how uncomfortable his friends are with his diagnosis and are afraid to say anything that can be misconstrued as rude or inconsiderate. The movie shows how frustrating it is for them to figure out how to manage through this, with caring and compassion, while still loving their friend and husband.
This is a great example of how difficult it can be for people to live with loved ones with mental illness. It's frustrating, upsetting and hard to understand.
In our family, I am the one with the mental illness. I suffer from an anxiety disorder and there are times where it overwhelms me and I wind up in a depression. I just had a downward spiral this past week, and it made daily life very difficult. It makes me highly irritable, frustrated and upset. When I get into a depression, it's difficult to see the bright side of things, though I can manage to still do so. I'm highly aware that my life isn't as hard to live as some other's lives are. While that's not where I find the positive, I try not to make my life seem more difficult than others have it. In reality, I'm quite blessed.
That doesn't mean I should marginalize what I deal with. I struggle to explain what happens or why, and just about anything can trigger a downward spiral. Fighting it just makes it worse, but giving into it makes me feel weak. It truly is a rock and a hard place. I imagine that for some, it seems like any small thing can trigger an anxiety attack in me, but that's not particularly true. Most of the time, it's a build up of small things, or even one big thing, then a small thing can trigger it. The ADHD doesn't help it at all, because I can wind up with racing thoughts and then it's almost impossible to sort through the mess and focus on one thing or another. That makes things even harder and the frustration builds up to the point of an anxiety attack.
I don't know when these periods will happen. Most of the time, it's hindsight. I work hard to keep things calm, maintain a routine and keep things are predictable as possible, but life doesn't work that way. Sometimes, keeping up that maintenance can be the reason for the spiral.
Living with me when I'm in these spirals is, I imagine, extremely frustrating and hard. I get irritable. Snappy. I get sarcastic and sometimes mean. Which is interesting to me, because frankly, I'm not a mean person. I think the worst part is that it's my family that suffers the most. I can't imagine that it's easy living with someone who's as unpredictable as I know I can be. When I tell people how it can be, most people are quite surprised. It's not something I show in public, ever. I feel like Dr. Jekkyl and Mr. Hyde sometimes.
I get tired. I like to sleep a lot when I'm in these spirals. I don't want to eat, I just want to sleep. Obviously, with my schedule, the kids, that's not possible. If I do eat, I struggle to eat things that are good for me. I just want to lapse into bad habits and eat as much junk food as possible. It's a comfort, but only a very short lived comfort. Too much noise can make me just so frustrated. Doing housework goes beyond the normal "chore", even though housework can be very therapeutic. (Bet my dad never thought he'd ever see me say something like that!) Housework helps to distract me from the thoughts going on in my head, but while it can be helpful, I need to get up the energy to even get up to start something. The house can take a real beating for a few days while I'm down.
Last week, an interesting...well interesting to me at least...thing happened. After my anxiety attack on Monday, I really went down. I didn't want to take my medication, which seems a bad idea. And it was. I definitely experienced withdrawl; not a very enjoyable experience. I hit a bad patch and I forget to take my medication. This doesn't happen often, but they do happen. They're not fun. I don't understand why I'm feeling the way I am, and then one day, I realize, "Oh wait...I haven't taken my medication!" Within 2 - 3 days of getting back to the medications, I'm starting to normalize again and things get better. It's interesting to me because you'd think that I should be more aware of the need of the medication, and yet, I just don't follow through. I've proven time and time again to myself that I need the medication and that they definitely help.
I know this is a common thing with people who take medication on a regular basis, especially for mental illnesses. In my case, it's entirely accidental. I don't plan for it. Some people I've talked to mention taking "medication vacations". For some, it's just an experiment to see if they can go without the meds or if it's still a need. For others, it's simply they don't want to take the medications anymore and just stop entirely. I know that for myself, my medications work and help to "normalize" me. Not meaning that I am not normal, per se, but that they help to keep the symptoms of my mental illness and learning disability to a point where they are manageable. Along with therapy, they've been highly helpful for me.
I understand how the medications can affect each person differently. I had that experience myself last summer when I was put onto Concerta. At first, it was good. I felt clear, I was active and losing weight, my focus was good and I was getting things done. Then after a few months, it started to have a negative affect on me. It made me highly jittery, cranky, any manner of negative effects. When they didn't clear up for me after a month or so, I went back to my doctor and requested a change.
I'm so thankful that I did that. The new medication has been much easier to deal with. There were some side effects but overall, it's been a very positive change. With the Celexa, it's been a good experience all around. I've been on the Celexa for about five years now. Even through my pregnancy with Grady, I took the medication. When I asked my doctor how safe it was, she said that in most cases, they have found that a woman with anxiety is more likely to get morning sickness while without medication rather than on. The anxiety just gets so bad, the morning sickness worsens as well. Throughout that entire pregnancy, I had little morning sickness, where with Logan, I was sick throughout the entire time. I told my husband that after the first three weeks on the Celexa, suddenly the voices in my head stopped. He asked me if I knew how crazy that sounded and I responded "It's not like they are telling me to burn things. It's just negative things that I keep thinking to myself." Through the medication and Cognitive Behaviour Therapy, I've been able to reverse many of those negative thoughts. The medication helps to quiet things down, but the CBT helps me to replace the "tape" that goes through my mind.
I mentioned earlier that I was blessed.
I am extraordinarily blessed by friends and family who understand. Or rather, try to understand. I doubt that anyone really could understand what goes on in my head, and really, I'd rather they didn't. It might drive them a bit crazy! I have enough crazy in my life that I don't need to really add to it. I'm thankful that they can see past the mental illness and see me for who I really am. Especially Jeff. He stepped into this mess. And he's managed to get through it with grace and understanding. I know that I frustrate him sometimes and it's hard for him to see it from my perspective. I can be a whirlwind or I can be totally dead to the world, oftentimes in the same day. On his last rotation home, I threw him for a couple of loops. One minute I was in the bed, reading and just chilling, and within two minutes, I'm down the stairs telling him to get dressed warm so we can go out to the park with Grady. A few days later, I did it again, only this time, I went from nothing to obsessively cleaning the basement.
I can't imagine how difficult that can be to live with. There's no predictability. It's entirely random sometimes. I am just sitting there, relaxing, reading, watching TV, then BOOM, I get it in my head that I NEED to do something, and it NEEDS to be done NOW. I try to keep things as simple as possible, but sometimes, it just doesn't go that way. For Jeff, it is probably very random, but for me, I've already been thinking about it for a while, and it's that moment when it needs to be done.
I'm very lucky to have friends and family who understand and help me through my difficult times. I know this isn't always the case for many people who suffer from mental illness. Most people who have a mental illness need support, but don't know where to turn. They need people to be willing to listen to them, and not judge them for their "crazy" thoughts. The biggest issue is that there is such a stigma on mental illness and such a culture of shame that goes along with it. We're taught that we need to be strong, never give in. If we get depressed, just snap out of it. If we're anxious, don't worry. We look at people who live with bipolar disorder or schizophrenia with disdain and judgement. We try to avoid those people, feeling uncomfortable with their disorders. There isn't enough funding for people with severe mental illness, and they begin to self medicate. Then we judge them even more harshly.
A person with mental illness needs is support and love. It's definitely not easy to live with a person who has a mental illness. It's not easy for them to live with themselves. It can be made easier with a little compassion and understanding. It's going to be frustrating, irritating and at times, extremely difficult. However, in today's modern medicine, there is not only support for a person suffering from mental illness, but also support for the family members who have to live with that individual. It's so incredibly important to keep the lines of communication open, on both ends. A person who doesn't suffer from a mental illness needs to express themselves just as much as the person with mental illness. Understanding is one of the first steps to healing. Letting a relationship break down due to mental illness is devastating for everyone involved. Any relationship. I want my friends and family to ask me questions. Ask me why I am acting the way I am acting. Slow me down if they feel like I'm going too fast. Feel free to mention that you see something. If you do it in an understanding and compassionate manner, you won't offend me. I don't always know if I'm doing it. The worst for me is when I don't realize it until LATER that I've been like that, and while everyone noticed, they didn't say anything. I don't want to turn anyone off of being my friend. I have a lot of offer in a friendship, and I know that there are so many people out there who have much to offer me in a friendship. I understand who I am, and what I can be like. Don't feel like you're going to offend me if you say "You're going a bit fast for me. Could you slow down?" Make a joke about it. I do.
In our relationship, my husband and I communicate through humour. When I had those two times where I just erratically decided we MUST do something, he joked about it, saying "What the hell? You were JUST laying down a minute ago and now we HAVE to do this?" He laughs about it. It is quite funny in the long run. I don't feel like he's making fun of me. He's making fun of the disorder. The disorder ISN'T ME. It's a part of me. A sometimes confusing, frustrating part of me, but only a part of me. My husband calls me "Pilbo Baggins" and "Drugs Bunny" because of the number of pills I take. It's not all pharmaceuticals. I also take a few supplements that help me immensely as well. I will admit though, I don't like it. I can joke about it, mostly because I don't like it. If I focus on the negative, then it's just that much harder to do keep taking the medications. Admittedly, I enjoy the jokes. Finding the humour in a situation can often be a much better cure than continually focusing on the negative.
So, I understand that we with mental illness aren't easy to live with. With some compassion and understanding, a relationship can be so much more rewarding. We are all different, and we all see the world differently. My ADHD helps me see so much in the world and keeps me thinking and learning. It makes me fun, frustrating, smart and scattered. I see the world a bit differently and that's what makes me who I am. My dad once paid me a huge complement and told me that I see the world differently. Most people don't look at a piece of fruit and see a photograph in it. I do. My anxiety makes me more caring about how people feel. As a result, I work hard at making people happy. I know that I can worry incessantly over things I don't need to worry about, and I'm working on it. But my anxiety can also make me a good mom because I'm more aware of the dangers around the corner. It gives me perspective as well. I have to work to be rational, knowing that there isn't a danger behind every tree and rock. It's a benefit for the kids because then I can give them a bit more freedom, which while it makes me more anxious, it also helps me realize how strong I truly am and the lessons I'm teaching my kids about life.
I'm extraordinarily aware of the heredity of mental illness, as well as learning disabilities. I am worried that all of the kids will wind up with something that I pass along to them. I try not to jump at shadows, seeing things that might not be there, but I have to be careful of that as well. I need to make sure that I don't overlook an important thing that could be harming the children as well. It's all about balance.
Sunday, March 23, 2014
Thursday, March 20, 2014
I Fell Off The Train
Fell off the train is probably not the right way to describe what happened this week.
More like, steered it towards the junk food world, saw all the wonderful, greasy, sweet, tasty food and jumped head first into a huge pile of junk food.
And it was magnificent.
Of course, my stomach doesn't agree with my brain. My brain just reveled in the preservatives, grease and cheese, sending wave upon wave of endorphins surging throughout my body, leaving me with a wonderful sense of contentment.
My stomach on the other hand has rebelled. It has gotten used to home cooking. It has gotten used to fresh, home made foods. It likes the fresh veggies and fruits. It likes the home made chicken dishes.
I needed this. I needed a week of just gross food.
I'm sure there are health nuts out there who disagree with me. Those of you out there who want to point out to me all the unhealthy chemicals, fats and other terrible things that fast food and soft drinks contain.
Don't worry. I'm aware of it. I read the articles, listen to the news stories. I'm pretty smart.
Here's a statement I'm sure that most people don't expect.
I chose to do it.
I did. I love junk food. I love pizza, hamburgers, chips, pop, candy, cheesecake. Oh my God. Cheesecake. The ultimate temptation. Cheesecake smothered in cherry pie filling. I LOVE cherry cheesecake. AMAZING. Not good for me, obviously, but oh my...
The differences?
Well, I'm aware of the fact that I chose to eat this stuff. In the past, I chose to eat entire cheesecakes or pies in a sitting, instead of just a piece or two. Or I can have chips, but a bowl of them. Not an entire full sized family bag during a movie.
I will admit when it comes to the hamburgers, there my willpower sees me pushing it back forcefully. I love my double cheeseburgers at Burger King and my (gasp) triple cheeseburgers from Wendy's. Oh, and Wendy's fries. I ADORE Wendy's fries. They are just the best. I like the far better than McDonalds.
That's right people. I'm a fast food connoisseur. It's a weakness. It's tasty stuff, and probably some of the worst food I can eat, but every so often, I just really want a big greasy burger.
This just wasn't a good week. I haven't really left the house much, except to do a few things at the school, which was fun, then some errands. Grady's been very difficult, extremely pushy and tempermental. Monday's anxiety attack just sort of threw me off.
And it's okay. It truly is.
It's okay because I'm aware of it. I'm totally fully and completely aware of what happened this week. And it's okay that my house is a *bit* messy. It's okay that I haven't done what I wanted to get done around the house (primarily laundry) and it's okay that I just wanted to chill out this week.
It's okay because it was good for my mental state. It's okay because I know that had I pushed myself, I would have been in worse shape for a lot longer in the long run. That's an issue that so many of us have. We get into a funk, then we push and push and push to try to be happy, even if it's just not in the cards for that week, instead of taking time to look back and see what's causing the issues and trying to fix it.
What I did in the past when that happened was eat. And eat...and eat. I didn't fix it. I just ate.
This week, I will get back onto the train. Or the wagon...whatever analogy you need to give it to make it easier. And then I'll steer it back towards where I was going before Monday.
In the meantime, no regrets (except for the stomach stuff) and no guilt. It's a bump in the road and I'm just human.
However, there is still cheesecake in the fridge. And you can be damn sure I'm going to eat it.
Don't worry. I'm aware of it. I read the articles, listen to the news stories. I'm pretty smart.
Here's a statement I'm sure that most people don't expect.
I chose to do it.
I did. I love junk food. I love pizza, hamburgers, chips, pop, candy, cheesecake. Oh my God. Cheesecake. The ultimate temptation. Cheesecake smothered in cherry pie filling. I LOVE cherry cheesecake. AMAZING. Not good for me, obviously, but oh my...
The differences?
Well, I'm aware of the fact that I chose to eat this stuff. In the past, I chose to eat entire cheesecakes or pies in a sitting, instead of just a piece or two. Or I can have chips, but a bowl of them. Not an entire full sized family bag during a movie.
I will admit when it comes to the hamburgers, there my willpower sees me pushing it back forcefully. I love my double cheeseburgers at Burger King and my (gasp) triple cheeseburgers from Wendy's. Oh, and Wendy's fries. I ADORE Wendy's fries. They are just the best. I like the far better than McDonalds.
That's right people. I'm a fast food connoisseur. It's a weakness. It's tasty stuff, and probably some of the worst food I can eat, but every so often, I just really want a big greasy burger.
This just wasn't a good week. I haven't really left the house much, except to do a few things at the school, which was fun, then some errands. Grady's been very difficult, extremely pushy and tempermental. Monday's anxiety attack just sort of threw me off.
And it's okay. It truly is.
It's okay because I'm aware of it. I'm totally fully and completely aware of what happened this week. And it's okay that my house is a *bit* messy. It's okay that I haven't done what I wanted to get done around the house (primarily laundry) and it's okay that I just wanted to chill out this week.
It's okay because it was good for my mental state. It's okay because I know that had I pushed myself, I would have been in worse shape for a lot longer in the long run. That's an issue that so many of us have. We get into a funk, then we push and push and push to try to be happy, even if it's just not in the cards for that week, instead of taking time to look back and see what's causing the issues and trying to fix it.
What I did in the past when that happened was eat. And eat...and eat. I didn't fix it. I just ate.
This week, I will get back onto the train. Or the wagon...whatever analogy you need to give it to make it easier. And then I'll steer it back towards where I was going before Monday.
In the meantime, no regrets (except for the stomach stuff) and no guilt. It's a bump in the road and I'm just human.
However, there is still cheesecake in the fridge. And you can be damn sure I'm going to eat it.
Monday, March 17, 2014
Hello Anxiety. Haven't Seen You In A While
Today was a strange day.
It's been almost a year since I was diagnosed with having ADHD and there seems to be days where I can manage it wonderfully and others where it's just a huge challenge.
Unfortunately, today was a big challenge.
I had an anxiety attack. I haven't had one in MONTHS. And of course, they never come at a convenient time, like say, when I'm sitting on the couch and then one hits. No no...they have to come as I'm driving down 23rd Ave, going to get gas, while my three year old whines and begs to use the potty because he wants to poop. (I told him if he poops again, he will get this train set he saw at Toys R Us. Not my brightest idea.)
All of a sudden, my stomach started to ache. I know I'm hungry, so I take a bit of apple. Well, that didn't help. Just made things worse, which made the anxiety worse. Of course, Grady in the backseat, going on and on about this train set, this doesn't help. There's nowhere to pull over, so I just keep driving carefully, heading to the gas station. At least there, I can get out of the car and get some fresh air.
I got my gas, went into the gas station to get some cash, paid for the gas and some juice and started to feel a little better. I got into the car, drove home. It's just better that way. I called Jeff too. He has a way of helping me think it out, and talking to him distracts me away from the anxiety.
He asked why I was having the attack and I told him it's because of a blender. I want to buy this one particular blender, but it costs 100$ and while we're not hurting for money or anything, I just can't justify 100$ in my head. And I really want this blender. I could really USE this blender. I love my smoothies and shakes, as do the kids and Jeff. My little Magic Bullet just isn't big enough for what we need and it's starting to act up.
Is it the blender? Really? Well. No. It's not.
It's me. It's always me. It's me with a million things on my mind, worrying about things that really, I don't need to worry about. This is nothing that anyone has asked of me, any pressure that anyone has put on me, nothing to do with anyone BUT me. The blender was just the trigger.
Let me explain.
I'm on the parent council this year. I'm LOVING it. I'm working hard at making sure that I get the things I've committed to done, keeping good notes and helping as much as possible, when possible. I love the ladies I work with, I adore our volunteers and our school is wonderful. I have a ton of ideas to make some things, like coordinating volunteers, easier. I've been talking to parents all weekend about ideas for communicating with them when we need help, when the next meetings are, other information we can pass on to them. I'm getting really positive reception regarding these things and it makes me excited. So then it triggers more and more thoughts. Then I sit down, write a few things down, I even drafted a parent council newsletter we'd been discussing since the start of the year, as well as a volunteer coordinating sheet.
Sounds good right? Sounds like I'm on a good path?
I am. I'm proud of it. I know it's something that can help us. Here's the catch. I'm worried that it won't work. I'm worried that it won't make sense or that it's too much. I'm worried that I'll overdo it and seem obsessive. Which sometimes, I am. I want to do a good job so badly, and I want to please everyone so much, that sometimes it becomes a problem and I wind up spending hours on things that at that moment, aren't really all that important in that moment. This has NOTHING to do with the ladies I work with, the school or the volunteers. This is me.
This past week, we had a festival that went wonderfully. I was really happy with it. However, it seems to have overwhelmed me. I guess it stressed me out far more than I'd anticipated. I'd never done anything like that before, or at the very least, never been on the front line of an event like that. Things went well, and besides a few hiccups, which are TOTALLY normal in big events, it was wonderful. I met some new people, got the chance to talk to friends and my kids got to play and have fun with their friends.
That's what got me thinking about the volunteer stuff as well as the newsletter and other items that came to mind. NOW...a good thing DID happen in all of that. I really wanted to share this with the other members of our council, but I knew that the other ladies had worked so hard and had been busy with the festival as well as life in general. I knew perfectly well that while I was brimming with ideas and plans, they most likely wanted to just chill out and spend time with their families. I'm not so sure that in the past I'd have had the capacity to do the same thing. So...score one for me!
There are, of course, other things always swirling around in my mind. Home things, future plans, stuff I need to attend to. It's not that I don't want to do them. I literally forget, in the swirl of other things that run through my mind. Today was not a good day for managing all that was going on. I was a freaking runaway train of conversation and while I was aware of it, I just couldn't stop it. I sure tried. I wasn't the most successful today. While I'm a good communicator and I'm becoming a MUCH better listener, some days are just much harder than others.
Ahh...good old impulse control. Sometimes I wonder what it's like to have good impulse control. To be able to look at something and KNOW whether or not it's something that's good for your life. That's the issue with the blender.
So now, I have an overabundance of impulse control when it comes to the blender, but none when it came to talking today. Talk about a dichotomy. The only problem is, the overabundance triggered an anxiety attack and was a bit of a surprise. I was going to go out to look at the blender again (the people at Canadian Tire must think I'm nuts...I've been in twice to look at the stupid thing...) but after the attack and how Grady was acting, it just wasn't worth it. I probably wouldn't have gotten it anyway.
I came home, put away the groceries that needed putting away, put Grady in his room with my phone (he can watch YTV on it), a snack and a drink, then went and took a shower. I was feeling really wretched, sweaty and nasty. My hair needed attention and that was definitely one of the things that was weighing on my mind. I even tried to lay down for a bit and rest, but I really wanted, no probably NEEDED, to write this blog out, so a snooze never happened. I'm sitting in my living room, no TV on, just the hum of the dryer and cars buzzing past. I have my window open and I can hear the breeze and every once in a while a small gust blows through and it's marvelous. A bit chilly...but lovely all the same.
I know that sometimes it's not going to be easy. I know that I'm going to struggle and there are days where it's going to be just over the top. The things that were running through my mind weren't things that were bad. They are just life. I've come to realize in the past year that anxiety comes in all sorts of forms, not just the bad. I can become anxious for the good too. Nothing that happened in the past few days was bad, difficult or harmful. None was traumatizing. It was fun, exhilarating, even self esteem boosting. I was quite literally, in my element, organizing, doing paperwork, talking to people, networking. I really enjoyed myself. Today, perhaps I just hadn't dealt with some of the things I was thinking about, like housework, potty training, groceries, tax stuff, and it just became overwhelming. I'm sure I'm not the only one that can happen to, I'm just hyper aware of it when it happens.
Even almost a year into this journey and I'm still learning. I'm still figuring things out, learning how my brain works and how I can make it so that it's not so overwhelmed. Blogging has been an excellent outlet for me, and really helps me to define what I'm thinking and gives me a chance to really delve into it and see how things are changing. I always re-read what I've written and there have been times I'm surprised at how cohesive my thoughts are in that moment, even though they don't feel that way. I know that blogging helps because it gives me a focus. It helps me sort through what is swirling around in my mind and helps me to analyze it in a more organized way. One of the worst parts about ADHD is the constant switching of topics that can happen in a flash. Sometimes I even surprise myself. I KNOW I can surprise others at how fast I can switch topics. Blogging helps me to organize those thoughts and keep on one topic or another.
Well, the peace of my home has been shattered by the little bodies that came home from school. Olivia and her friend are in the basement watching some TV, Logan and his friend are outside playing. Grady. He's obsessed. With poop. He's currently trying to down as much "healthy food" as possible in the hopes of repeating yesterday's success and thus going back to Toys R Us for a train set that he's set his heart on. And my cats are currently going insane, fighting and running around like their asses are on fire.
It's my overwhelming, insane life, and I love it. Never a dull moment. Ever.
I admit though. I'm tired of talking about poop.
It's been almost a year since I was diagnosed with having ADHD and there seems to be days where I can manage it wonderfully and others where it's just a huge challenge.
Unfortunately, today was a big challenge.
I had an anxiety attack. I haven't had one in MONTHS. And of course, they never come at a convenient time, like say, when I'm sitting on the couch and then one hits. No no...they have to come as I'm driving down 23rd Ave, going to get gas, while my three year old whines and begs to use the potty because he wants to poop. (I told him if he poops again, he will get this train set he saw at Toys R Us. Not my brightest idea.)
All of a sudden, my stomach started to ache. I know I'm hungry, so I take a bit of apple. Well, that didn't help. Just made things worse, which made the anxiety worse. Of course, Grady in the backseat, going on and on about this train set, this doesn't help. There's nowhere to pull over, so I just keep driving carefully, heading to the gas station. At least there, I can get out of the car and get some fresh air.
I got my gas, went into the gas station to get some cash, paid for the gas and some juice and started to feel a little better. I got into the car, drove home. It's just better that way. I called Jeff too. He has a way of helping me think it out, and talking to him distracts me away from the anxiety.
He asked why I was having the attack and I told him it's because of a blender. I want to buy this one particular blender, but it costs 100$ and while we're not hurting for money or anything, I just can't justify 100$ in my head. And I really want this blender. I could really USE this blender. I love my smoothies and shakes, as do the kids and Jeff. My little Magic Bullet just isn't big enough for what we need and it's starting to act up.
Is it the blender? Really? Well. No. It's not.
It's me. It's always me. It's me with a million things on my mind, worrying about things that really, I don't need to worry about. This is nothing that anyone has asked of me, any pressure that anyone has put on me, nothing to do with anyone BUT me. The blender was just the trigger.
Let me explain.
I'm on the parent council this year. I'm LOVING it. I'm working hard at making sure that I get the things I've committed to done, keeping good notes and helping as much as possible, when possible. I love the ladies I work with, I adore our volunteers and our school is wonderful. I have a ton of ideas to make some things, like coordinating volunteers, easier. I've been talking to parents all weekend about ideas for communicating with them when we need help, when the next meetings are, other information we can pass on to them. I'm getting really positive reception regarding these things and it makes me excited. So then it triggers more and more thoughts. Then I sit down, write a few things down, I even drafted a parent council newsletter we'd been discussing since the start of the year, as well as a volunteer coordinating sheet.
Sounds good right? Sounds like I'm on a good path?
I am. I'm proud of it. I know it's something that can help us. Here's the catch. I'm worried that it won't work. I'm worried that it won't make sense or that it's too much. I'm worried that I'll overdo it and seem obsessive. Which sometimes, I am. I want to do a good job so badly, and I want to please everyone so much, that sometimes it becomes a problem and I wind up spending hours on things that at that moment, aren't really all that important in that moment. This has NOTHING to do with the ladies I work with, the school or the volunteers. This is me.
This past week, we had a festival that went wonderfully. I was really happy with it. However, it seems to have overwhelmed me. I guess it stressed me out far more than I'd anticipated. I'd never done anything like that before, or at the very least, never been on the front line of an event like that. Things went well, and besides a few hiccups, which are TOTALLY normal in big events, it was wonderful. I met some new people, got the chance to talk to friends and my kids got to play and have fun with their friends.
That's what got me thinking about the volunteer stuff as well as the newsletter and other items that came to mind. NOW...a good thing DID happen in all of that. I really wanted to share this with the other members of our council, but I knew that the other ladies had worked so hard and had been busy with the festival as well as life in general. I knew perfectly well that while I was brimming with ideas and plans, they most likely wanted to just chill out and spend time with their families. I'm not so sure that in the past I'd have had the capacity to do the same thing. So...score one for me!
There are, of course, other things always swirling around in my mind. Home things, future plans, stuff I need to attend to. It's not that I don't want to do them. I literally forget, in the swirl of other things that run through my mind. Today was not a good day for managing all that was going on. I was a freaking runaway train of conversation and while I was aware of it, I just couldn't stop it. I sure tried. I wasn't the most successful today. While I'm a good communicator and I'm becoming a MUCH better listener, some days are just much harder than others.
Ahh...good old impulse control. Sometimes I wonder what it's like to have good impulse control. To be able to look at something and KNOW whether or not it's something that's good for your life. That's the issue with the blender.
So now, I have an overabundance of impulse control when it comes to the blender, but none when it came to talking today. Talk about a dichotomy. The only problem is, the overabundance triggered an anxiety attack and was a bit of a surprise. I was going to go out to look at the blender again (the people at Canadian Tire must think I'm nuts...I've been in twice to look at the stupid thing...) but after the attack and how Grady was acting, it just wasn't worth it. I probably wouldn't have gotten it anyway.
I came home, put away the groceries that needed putting away, put Grady in his room with my phone (he can watch YTV on it), a snack and a drink, then went and took a shower. I was feeling really wretched, sweaty and nasty. My hair needed attention and that was definitely one of the things that was weighing on my mind. I even tried to lay down for a bit and rest, but I really wanted, no probably NEEDED, to write this blog out, so a snooze never happened. I'm sitting in my living room, no TV on, just the hum of the dryer and cars buzzing past. I have my window open and I can hear the breeze and every once in a while a small gust blows through and it's marvelous. A bit chilly...but lovely all the same.
I know that sometimes it's not going to be easy. I know that I'm going to struggle and there are days where it's going to be just over the top. The things that were running through my mind weren't things that were bad. They are just life. I've come to realize in the past year that anxiety comes in all sorts of forms, not just the bad. I can become anxious for the good too. Nothing that happened in the past few days was bad, difficult or harmful. None was traumatizing. It was fun, exhilarating, even self esteem boosting. I was quite literally, in my element, organizing, doing paperwork, talking to people, networking. I really enjoyed myself. Today, perhaps I just hadn't dealt with some of the things I was thinking about, like housework, potty training, groceries, tax stuff, and it just became overwhelming. I'm sure I'm not the only one that can happen to, I'm just hyper aware of it when it happens.
Even almost a year into this journey and I'm still learning. I'm still figuring things out, learning how my brain works and how I can make it so that it's not so overwhelmed. Blogging has been an excellent outlet for me, and really helps me to define what I'm thinking and gives me a chance to really delve into it and see how things are changing. I always re-read what I've written and there have been times I'm surprised at how cohesive my thoughts are in that moment, even though they don't feel that way. I know that blogging helps because it gives me a focus. It helps me sort through what is swirling around in my mind and helps me to analyze it in a more organized way. One of the worst parts about ADHD is the constant switching of topics that can happen in a flash. Sometimes I even surprise myself. I KNOW I can surprise others at how fast I can switch topics. Blogging helps me to organize those thoughts and keep on one topic or another.
Well, the peace of my home has been shattered by the little bodies that came home from school. Olivia and her friend are in the basement watching some TV, Logan and his friend are outside playing. Grady. He's obsessed. With poop. He's currently trying to down as much "healthy food" as possible in the hopes of repeating yesterday's success and thus going back to Toys R Us for a train set that he's set his heart on. And my cats are currently going insane, fighting and running around like their asses are on fire.
It's my overwhelming, insane life, and I love it. Never a dull moment. Ever.
I admit though. I'm tired of talking about poop.
Sunday, March 16, 2014
Adventures in Potty Training
So, I'm going to assume that the title alone will be fair warning to those who read this post. I won't go into ridiculous details, but I find that this is a subject that a lot of moms and dads talk about. So be warned. This is about potty training, but there's nothing particularly disgusting in the topic itself. It's not a "how to" manual, just my experiences in the past ten years of this fascinating and extremely difficult milestone in my kid's lives.
Today we had a massive success.
Grady pooped in the potty!
All by himself.
YES! YES YES YES YES YES YES YES!!!
As soon as we have babies, we have to be aware of the contents of our children's diapers. Color, texture, frequency, we need to be able to answer those questions when we see the doctors and nurses. We become obsessed with the topic and this doesn't end until our kids are potty trained. Being that I have a bit of an impulse control issue, sometimes I found myself discussing this topic in the wrong time and wrong situation when I first became a parent. I had to learn early on that there is a time and a place to discuss pee and poop. However, over time, it becomes less and less important, until the child turns around 18 months to three years of age. Then the topic of potty training comes up.
Now, to understand how monumental this is for me, you have to remember that my three year old is a stubborn, hard headed, highly intelligent and insane little man. It makes for a difficult combination when trying to even do the most simple of tasks.
And potty training is NOT one of those simple tasks.
It's a head splitting, frustrating, disgusting, terrifying and yet highly amusing exercise in parenting.
Potty training requires massive patience, consistency and follow through. ( I, as I have mentioned in the past, experience great difficulty in consistency and follow through.) You need to be willing to crack down occasionally on the kid in question, making sure he/she understands that there is a reason for this, it's part of life and everyone does this.
Some kids take to potty training like it's just the simplest thing to do.
Some kids, like my wonderful three year old, fight it until all you want to do is plug the kid up and hope that he doesn't explode.
When Logan potty trained, he did it right after we brought his sister home from the hospital. He just decided one day to do and VOILA it was done. During the day. Nighttime was a lot harder to deal with. Monthly I had to go to Walmart or Superstore to purchase 27 nighttime diapers for 20 bucks a pop. Sometimes, I could get a really good deal and pick up double that for about two dollars more, but it was always a pain in the ass. Jeff and I weren't sure why he wasn't figuring out the whole nighttime thing, but one day Jeff decided enough was enough and took away the nighttime diapers. Within a week, he was accident free. It was strictly a safety thing and he didn't feel like he was ready. Well...daddy fixed that.
Olivia was far easier. Same thing to start though. We brought a new baby home and that was that. She wanted to potty train. Okay...no problem. While Logan was 7 before he stopped with the nighttime diapers, Olivia was 5. She said to me one night she didn't want to wear the diaper anymore and that was it. I warned her of accidents, because Logan had taken so long, but she was confident. Accident free within a short period of time.
Olivia and Logan liked to do what we called "potty touring". This meant when we went out, they had to try out each and every bathroom in the building. Sometimes, more than once. When a kid is potty training and says "I need to pee!" There's not a chance in hell that a parent is going to say to their three year old "Oh no honey. You can hold it!" Many times, moms and dads will abandon their carts in grocery stores, gripping the hand of the small child in question, rushing to the potty. If you're lucky enough to hear a mom or dad in the bathroom, you'll hear them in the stall with their child, urging them to pee and the child happily chattering away about how awesome it is to use a public bathroom. It's always highly amusing to me to hear that. For some reason, this is a huge deal for some kids. My older two were those kids. We called it "potty touring" because there were many times we'd go to a public washroom, only to have the kid sitting on the toilet unable to pee because they'd just peed five minutes before on another toilet in the same building. It can be so frustrating, but you never say to no a kid when they need to pee...even if you think you know better. It only takes that ONE TIME where you say "no, you just went" that within five minutes, the kid is now waddling around Walmart with that same parent gripping their child's hand, looking for cheap pants and a pair of underwear to buy and get changed into.
Grady. Oh...sweet Grady. He hates the public bathrooms. He hates the loud toilets, the hand driers, the whole experience. I've had him hold it from 9 am until 8:30 pm that night because he would have had to use a public bathroom at some point. But then at home, I've had him in his underwear, near to his dear Thomas the Tank Engine toilet seat, and changed him five times that day due to accidents. He's always baffled me.
Our biggest challenge? Oh...the blessed number two. The Holy Grail of potty training. Some kids are amazing and pick it up at the same time as peeing in the potty. Others, like Grady, like to make damn sure that while you think you know what you're doing, you don't even have the slightest clue. Given Grady's personality and the fact that we weren't having any other babies after him, I knew we were going to be challenged.
For some strange reason, I kept all of Logan's old underwear from when he was Grady's age. I don't know if this is a normal thing, to pass them on, but they were cleaned and sanitary. I knew this would benefit us, because as most parents know, for some reason, those small scraps of fabric, with super heroes, ponies and the days of the week on them, are ridiculously expensive. Whenever a number two happens, I just throw them out. I don't want to wash that crap. Literally. So, in keeping Logan's old stuff, we managed to save ourselves several dollars in tossed out underwear. This is not a practice I intend on maintaining in the future. For this age, it's perfectly fine, in my opinion.
Anyway, Grady refused to do the number two in the potty. It was getting extremely frustrating. We finally go it through to him that it's "okay" to do it in his diaper. It's a lot easier to clean up. We'd speculate as to "why" he wasn't doing it. Was it a power trip? Was he afraid to "flush part of himself"? Ever tried to dissect the psyche of a three year old? Don't. You'll just wind up questioning your own sanity.
However, in order to get the point through to him that we don't want him doing it in his pants and underwear, we used the shower. Not a cold shower. A warm shower. He doesn't like showers. Never has. I don't like the idea of using it for negative reinforcement, but for some reason, my boys are some of the hardest learners I've ever met. It has to be harsh to be effective and it drives me nuts and kills me. I'm not a fan of it. Thankfully, we only had to do it three times before he got it. And really, it wasn't the shower that he didn't like. It was the hair washing that he hated the most. He hates that whether he's in the bath or in the shower. He's always hated getting his hair washed. I picture white blonde dreadlocks and flies in our future.
In case you're wondering, we had positive reinforcement as well. Each time (for the first week or two) that he peed in the potty, he got what we called a "potty pop". A lolly pop can go a long way to encourage peeing in the potty, when it comes to Grady. As he became more successful at the process, we would praise him and only give him a "potty pop" if he asks for one. Today, when he did his number two, I literally cheered with him. This was the proudest little three year old that ever existed. Then we had to call Daddy and tell him that this happened. I mean, this was a party. He got not one, but TWO chocolate chip cookies. Whenever I ask him "What did you do in the potty today?" He gets this huge grin on his face and says "Pooped!"
I know it's a strange topic to discuss in my blog, but it's a big deal. Once Logan turns ten next month, I will have changed BABY DIAPERS (so Huggies, Pampers, etc) every single day for ten years. (Except for when I went to Las Vegas...thanks everyone who had to take over the process then!) TEN YEARS! I'm done. I'm so ready for this milestone to be done. I don't want to watch the kids go to the bathroom anymore. I don't want to be sitting on the edge of the tub, encouraging a toddler to do his/her business on the toilet. I'm done. Ten years is plenty.
Once we're past this milestone, we're pretty much out of the baby/toddler stuff. It's bittersweet, because it means no more babies and such, but it's more sweet than bitter. A person can only look at crap so much before it gets tiresome!
Today we had a massive success.
Grady pooped in the potty!
All by himself.
YES! YES YES YES YES YES YES YES!!!
As soon as we have babies, we have to be aware of the contents of our children's diapers. Color, texture, frequency, we need to be able to answer those questions when we see the doctors and nurses. We become obsessed with the topic and this doesn't end until our kids are potty trained. Being that I have a bit of an impulse control issue, sometimes I found myself discussing this topic in the wrong time and wrong situation when I first became a parent. I had to learn early on that there is a time and a place to discuss pee and poop. However, over time, it becomes less and less important, until the child turns around 18 months to three years of age. Then the topic of potty training comes up.
Now, to understand how monumental this is for me, you have to remember that my three year old is a stubborn, hard headed, highly intelligent and insane little man. It makes for a difficult combination when trying to even do the most simple of tasks.
And potty training is NOT one of those simple tasks.
It's a head splitting, frustrating, disgusting, terrifying and yet highly amusing exercise in parenting.
Potty training requires massive patience, consistency and follow through. ( I, as I have mentioned in the past, experience great difficulty in consistency and follow through.) You need to be willing to crack down occasionally on the kid in question, making sure he/she understands that there is a reason for this, it's part of life and everyone does this.
Some kids take to potty training like it's just the simplest thing to do.
Some kids, like my wonderful three year old, fight it until all you want to do is plug the kid up and hope that he doesn't explode.
When Logan potty trained, he did it right after we brought his sister home from the hospital. He just decided one day to do and VOILA it was done. During the day. Nighttime was a lot harder to deal with. Monthly I had to go to Walmart or Superstore to purchase 27 nighttime diapers for 20 bucks a pop. Sometimes, I could get a really good deal and pick up double that for about two dollars more, but it was always a pain in the ass. Jeff and I weren't sure why he wasn't figuring out the whole nighttime thing, but one day Jeff decided enough was enough and took away the nighttime diapers. Within a week, he was accident free. It was strictly a safety thing and he didn't feel like he was ready. Well...daddy fixed that.
Olivia was far easier. Same thing to start though. We brought a new baby home and that was that. She wanted to potty train. Okay...no problem. While Logan was 7 before he stopped with the nighttime diapers, Olivia was 5. She said to me one night she didn't want to wear the diaper anymore and that was it. I warned her of accidents, because Logan had taken so long, but she was confident. Accident free within a short period of time.
Olivia and Logan liked to do what we called "potty touring". This meant when we went out, they had to try out each and every bathroom in the building. Sometimes, more than once. When a kid is potty training and says "I need to pee!" There's not a chance in hell that a parent is going to say to their three year old "Oh no honey. You can hold it!" Many times, moms and dads will abandon their carts in grocery stores, gripping the hand of the small child in question, rushing to the potty. If you're lucky enough to hear a mom or dad in the bathroom, you'll hear them in the stall with their child, urging them to pee and the child happily chattering away about how awesome it is to use a public bathroom. It's always highly amusing to me to hear that. For some reason, this is a huge deal for some kids. My older two were those kids. We called it "potty touring" because there were many times we'd go to a public washroom, only to have the kid sitting on the toilet unable to pee because they'd just peed five minutes before on another toilet in the same building. It can be so frustrating, but you never say to no a kid when they need to pee...even if you think you know better. It only takes that ONE TIME where you say "no, you just went" that within five minutes, the kid is now waddling around Walmart with that same parent gripping their child's hand, looking for cheap pants and a pair of underwear to buy and get changed into.
Grady. Oh...sweet Grady. He hates the public bathrooms. He hates the loud toilets, the hand driers, the whole experience. I've had him hold it from 9 am until 8:30 pm that night because he would have had to use a public bathroom at some point. But then at home, I've had him in his underwear, near to his dear Thomas the Tank Engine toilet seat, and changed him five times that day due to accidents. He's always baffled me.
Our biggest challenge? Oh...the blessed number two. The Holy Grail of potty training. Some kids are amazing and pick it up at the same time as peeing in the potty. Others, like Grady, like to make damn sure that while you think you know what you're doing, you don't even have the slightest clue. Given Grady's personality and the fact that we weren't having any other babies after him, I knew we were going to be challenged.
For some strange reason, I kept all of Logan's old underwear from when he was Grady's age. I don't know if this is a normal thing, to pass them on, but they were cleaned and sanitary. I knew this would benefit us, because as most parents know, for some reason, those small scraps of fabric, with super heroes, ponies and the days of the week on them, are ridiculously expensive. Whenever a number two happens, I just throw them out. I don't want to wash that crap. Literally. So, in keeping Logan's old stuff, we managed to save ourselves several dollars in tossed out underwear. This is not a practice I intend on maintaining in the future. For this age, it's perfectly fine, in my opinion.
Anyway, Grady refused to do the number two in the potty. It was getting extremely frustrating. We finally go it through to him that it's "okay" to do it in his diaper. It's a lot easier to clean up. We'd speculate as to "why" he wasn't doing it. Was it a power trip? Was he afraid to "flush part of himself"? Ever tried to dissect the psyche of a three year old? Don't. You'll just wind up questioning your own sanity.
However, in order to get the point through to him that we don't want him doing it in his pants and underwear, we used the shower. Not a cold shower. A warm shower. He doesn't like showers. Never has. I don't like the idea of using it for negative reinforcement, but for some reason, my boys are some of the hardest learners I've ever met. It has to be harsh to be effective and it drives me nuts and kills me. I'm not a fan of it. Thankfully, we only had to do it three times before he got it. And really, it wasn't the shower that he didn't like. It was the hair washing that he hated the most. He hates that whether he's in the bath or in the shower. He's always hated getting his hair washed. I picture white blonde dreadlocks and flies in our future.
In case you're wondering, we had positive reinforcement as well. Each time (for the first week or two) that he peed in the potty, he got what we called a "potty pop". A lolly pop can go a long way to encourage peeing in the potty, when it comes to Grady. As he became more successful at the process, we would praise him and only give him a "potty pop" if he asks for one. Today, when he did his number two, I literally cheered with him. This was the proudest little three year old that ever existed. Then we had to call Daddy and tell him that this happened. I mean, this was a party. He got not one, but TWO chocolate chip cookies. Whenever I ask him "What did you do in the potty today?" He gets this huge grin on his face and says "Pooped!"
I know it's a strange topic to discuss in my blog, but it's a big deal. Once Logan turns ten next month, I will have changed BABY DIAPERS (so Huggies, Pampers, etc) every single day for ten years. (Except for when I went to Las Vegas...thanks everyone who had to take over the process then!) TEN YEARS! I'm done. I'm so ready for this milestone to be done. I don't want to watch the kids go to the bathroom anymore. I don't want to be sitting on the edge of the tub, encouraging a toddler to do his/her business on the toilet. I'm done. Ten years is plenty.
Once we're past this milestone, we're pretty much out of the baby/toddler stuff. It's bittersweet, because it means no more babies and such, but it's more sweet than bitter. A person can only look at crap so much before it gets tiresome!
High Irritability
I really want to blog today. I have a couple ideas in mind, but as I sit down to type them out, I find myself having a great amount of difficulty doing so.
I'm highly irritable today. And not for any particular reason that I can think of. Just highly irritable.
It starts in my stomach. It gets all tight and I get a bit jittery. Kind of like when I'm having a sugar low from the diabetes. I go right to a snack first. See if that is the case. Sometimes, low blood sugars can cause me to be quite irritable and cranky.
If that doesn't work...well. Then I need to think about what could be making me feel this way.
After my stomach, it starts to sort of "climb" up my chest. Then my chest gets tight and my shoulders join into the feeling. I try breathing deeply, keeping calm.
Then something triggers it the frustration. The yelling...the anger, frustration, irritation. It can be explosive, it can be totally quiet. When I get quiet, then things are BAD. I'm a very extroverted individual. I am completely capable of expressing myself, whether in a constructive way (calmly explaining why I feel this way) or a completely deconstructive way (yelling and angry).
What are my triggers?
I hate to say this, but one of my biggest triggers is my three year old. I adore him. He's the best little kid, but he's a hurricane. A flurry of insanity. He's very demanding, stubborn and loud. (I don't know where he gets it from). He's incredibly intelligent and when he's bored, he's kind of like a border collie. Needs a job to do, and sometimes finds a job that I don't necessarily want him to do.
Some days, it feels like he knows I'm edgy. He pushes every single button he can to get me to react and it can be incredibly frustrating. Those days, it's easier to put him in his room for a bit and then go lay down and read. They don't happen often, thankfully. Most of the time, it's a matter of finding him something to do and keeping him busy. Even just feeding him can help with his attitude.
In an extremely childish manner, I get anxious, frustrated and angry when things don't go the way I planned. Last November, I broke a toe and couldn't go to the mall to do some Christmas shopping like I'd planned with the boys. I was so frustrated with my plans being shot like that, even though there wasn't anything I could do about it. I hate it with a passion when I get a plan in my head, and for whatever reason, financial or time, I can't do it, I get really pouty and silly about it. It's quite ridiculous and childish, I'm aware, but it's one my personality flaws that I'm learning to curtail. Mostly, I'm just learning to keep it to myself.
Other triggers are noises. Food noises are the biggest trigger. I get so annoyed when people eat loudly. Of course, many times, people don't mean to or even know they are annoying me. My husband is highly aware of this and he likes to make fun of it. He doesn't do anything overly annoying, mocking me or anything, but he makes fun of it and calls it "Mommy's psychosis". He's not entirely wrong. There's a psychiatric disorder called "misophonia" wherein a person gets highly anxious and irritated by certain noises. For some, even just loud breathing can be annoying. I'm not saying that I have it, but there is an explanation for it. My dad gets highly annoyed at the same thing. Jeff thinks that I developed the "psychosis" (as he calls it) because of my dad. Which is fine. He's probably right. LOL
If a day has been particularly difficult, towards the end of the day, even the TV is annoying. Which is strange to me because I've lived with the TV on pretty much my whole life. When I was a kid, it was a comfort to me to hear the TV on in the living room. My mom had left when I was six, and in my mind, the TV meant that dad was still home and I was safe. I guess I have a fear of being abandoned, but in reality, don't we all?
One of the silliest times I get annoyed and frustrated it when I'm trying to concentrate on a television show. Like this is the most important thing in the world. Of course, it's not. My kids and my husband are. However, there are so many times when I find myself distracted from something I wanted to see and I get frustrated because I was actually concentrating on the show at hand. I admit, I've gotten really upset about that a few times, and I always feel stupid afterwards. A PVR would be a good idea for me. Netflix and video on demand has saved my sanity a few times. I REALLY like good TV, especially at night when the kids are in bed. It's my escape, like my books. If there's nothing good on TV, I'll go read. But if I decide to try to watch something during the day when the kids are awake, and I really want to see it, inevitably, I find myself frustrated with them because they want my attention. It's a foolish decision and so I have to just let go and watch later on. It's really not that big of a deal. I just make it that way.
I have many ways of handling the irritations. Some days, it's not always possible, but I do my best.
I need to keep an eye on my caffeine intake. That can heighten my frustration levels. Keeping my sugars up and steady is a huge one. The lower my sugars, the higher my irritation.
I get very overwhelmed when I have multiple tasks to attend to. I need to keep my mind on the fact that even if there are many different chores to do, commitments to fulfill and other various things that need to be attended to, I can't do them all and I need to remind myself that I will get things done if I just go slow and work steadily. I still struggle daily with the "all or nothing" thinking. I'm getting there. I can tell myself that it's okay, I don't HAVE to get it done THIS INSTANT. My notebooks and daytimer are big helps on that front. Planning ahead and knowing what's to come can be the biggest mood saver of all.
Also, this time of the year is difficult for me. I can't WAIT to get outside more. Right now, the weather is highly unpredictable. One day, it can be 15 degrees above and warm and sunny. The next day, it can be 2 degrees and wet and cold. There are huge puddles under the toys at the parks, so I can't even really take the kids out there. I know that we're so close to the end of the winter, so I get so anxious to get out and recharge my batteries. I LOVE the spring and summer. Lots of hiking, biking, camping, walking, playing, you name it. I love to go to the park, a book in hand, blanket and a snack, then lay under a tree, reading while my kids play happily in the park. Many times, I call up friends in the neighbourhood and we all get together and let the kids just go wild. I get SO much wonderful conversation during times with my friends. I know some amazing women!
Obviously, expressing myself helps immensely. Putting it out there, whether on paper or on my blog, helps so much. Just to have it out, making sense, in a way for me to look at it and re-read it. It helps me to plot out the reasons I feel the way I do, and how I can deal with it. Today is just one of those days. I needed to put this down. When I started this post today, I seriously did NOT know what I was going to put down, but now that I have, I feel better. Calmer. A little more centered and grounded.
I haven't been to the gym in a week or so. I think I'm getting a bit bored in the gym right now and really want to be out walking for an hour instead of on a treadmill. Unfortunately, the weather hasn't really allowed me to do that. I did put Grady in a stroller the other day and we went out for a bit, but it was still too chilly for him and we had to come home. It was okay though. At least I got out for a while. Perhaps tomorrow is a gym day before we head out for groceries. I do a bit of yoga in the house at night before bed and that's helpful. Just moving my body around and working on breathing and strength can be so calming. I'd also like to take up jogging a bit this summer. Give it a try, see if I can go somewhere with it. I don't know why, but the urge to jog has been on my mind a lot lately.
So...for now, I'm going to go work on my laundry (we cleaned out under the stairs the other day and found tons of stuff that had gone missing...what a job that was) and tidy up around the house. I still have to figure out dinner. I might have to get creative tonight.
Before that, I have one more blog post to write. This next one will be a bit more humourous I hope. LOL
I'm highly irritable today. And not for any particular reason that I can think of. Just highly irritable.
It starts in my stomach. It gets all tight and I get a bit jittery. Kind of like when I'm having a sugar low from the diabetes. I go right to a snack first. See if that is the case. Sometimes, low blood sugars can cause me to be quite irritable and cranky.
If that doesn't work...well. Then I need to think about what could be making me feel this way.
After my stomach, it starts to sort of "climb" up my chest. Then my chest gets tight and my shoulders join into the feeling. I try breathing deeply, keeping calm.
Then something triggers it the frustration. The yelling...the anger, frustration, irritation. It can be explosive, it can be totally quiet. When I get quiet, then things are BAD. I'm a very extroverted individual. I am completely capable of expressing myself, whether in a constructive way (calmly explaining why I feel this way) or a completely deconstructive way (yelling and angry).
What are my triggers?
I hate to say this, but one of my biggest triggers is my three year old. I adore him. He's the best little kid, but he's a hurricane. A flurry of insanity. He's very demanding, stubborn and loud. (I don't know where he gets it from). He's incredibly intelligent and when he's bored, he's kind of like a border collie. Needs a job to do, and sometimes finds a job that I don't necessarily want him to do.
Some days, it feels like he knows I'm edgy. He pushes every single button he can to get me to react and it can be incredibly frustrating. Those days, it's easier to put him in his room for a bit and then go lay down and read. They don't happen often, thankfully. Most of the time, it's a matter of finding him something to do and keeping him busy. Even just feeding him can help with his attitude.
In an extremely childish manner, I get anxious, frustrated and angry when things don't go the way I planned. Last November, I broke a toe and couldn't go to the mall to do some Christmas shopping like I'd planned with the boys. I was so frustrated with my plans being shot like that, even though there wasn't anything I could do about it. I hate it with a passion when I get a plan in my head, and for whatever reason, financial or time, I can't do it, I get really pouty and silly about it. It's quite ridiculous and childish, I'm aware, but it's one my personality flaws that I'm learning to curtail. Mostly, I'm just learning to keep it to myself.
Other triggers are noises. Food noises are the biggest trigger. I get so annoyed when people eat loudly. Of course, many times, people don't mean to or even know they are annoying me. My husband is highly aware of this and he likes to make fun of it. He doesn't do anything overly annoying, mocking me or anything, but he makes fun of it and calls it "Mommy's psychosis". He's not entirely wrong. There's a psychiatric disorder called "misophonia" wherein a person gets highly anxious and irritated by certain noises. For some, even just loud breathing can be annoying. I'm not saying that I have it, but there is an explanation for it. My dad gets highly annoyed at the same thing. Jeff thinks that I developed the "psychosis" (as he calls it) because of my dad. Which is fine. He's probably right. LOL
If a day has been particularly difficult, towards the end of the day, even the TV is annoying. Which is strange to me because I've lived with the TV on pretty much my whole life. When I was a kid, it was a comfort to me to hear the TV on in the living room. My mom had left when I was six, and in my mind, the TV meant that dad was still home and I was safe. I guess I have a fear of being abandoned, but in reality, don't we all?
One of the silliest times I get annoyed and frustrated it when I'm trying to concentrate on a television show. Like this is the most important thing in the world. Of course, it's not. My kids and my husband are. However, there are so many times when I find myself distracted from something I wanted to see and I get frustrated because I was actually concentrating on the show at hand. I admit, I've gotten really upset about that a few times, and I always feel stupid afterwards. A PVR would be a good idea for me. Netflix and video on demand has saved my sanity a few times. I REALLY like good TV, especially at night when the kids are in bed. It's my escape, like my books. If there's nothing good on TV, I'll go read. But if I decide to try to watch something during the day when the kids are awake, and I really want to see it, inevitably, I find myself frustrated with them because they want my attention. It's a foolish decision and so I have to just let go and watch later on. It's really not that big of a deal. I just make it that way.
I have many ways of handling the irritations. Some days, it's not always possible, but I do my best.
I need to keep an eye on my caffeine intake. That can heighten my frustration levels. Keeping my sugars up and steady is a huge one. The lower my sugars, the higher my irritation.
I get very overwhelmed when I have multiple tasks to attend to. I need to keep my mind on the fact that even if there are many different chores to do, commitments to fulfill and other various things that need to be attended to, I can't do them all and I need to remind myself that I will get things done if I just go slow and work steadily. I still struggle daily with the "all or nothing" thinking. I'm getting there. I can tell myself that it's okay, I don't HAVE to get it done THIS INSTANT. My notebooks and daytimer are big helps on that front. Planning ahead and knowing what's to come can be the biggest mood saver of all.
Also, this time of the year is difficult for me. I can't WAIT to get outside more. Right now, the weather is highly unpredictable. One day, it can be 15 degrees above and warm and sunny. The next day, it can be 2 degrees and wet and cold. There are huge puddles under the toys at the parks, so I can't even really take the kids out there. I know that we're so close to the end of the winter, so I get so anxious to get out and recharge my batteries. I LOVE the spring and summer. Lots of hiking, biking, camping, walking, playing, you name it. I love to go to the park, a book in hand, blanket and a snack, then lay under a tree, reading while my kids play happily in the park. Many times, I call up friends in the neighbourhood and we all get together and let the kids just go wild. I get SO much wonderful conversation during times with my friends. I know some amazing women!
Obviously, expressing myself helps immensely. Putting it out there, whether on paper or on my blog, helps so much. Just to have it out, making sense, in a way for me to look at it and re-read it. It helps me to plot out the reasons I feel the way I do, and how I can deal with it. Today is just one of those days. I needed to put this down. When I started this post today, I seriously did NOT know what I was going to put down, but now that I have, I feel better. Calmer. A little more centered and grounded.
I haven't been to the gym in a week or so. I think I'm getting a bit bored in the gym right now and really want to be out walking for an hour instead of on a treadmill. Unfortunately, the weather hasn't really allowed me to do that. I did put Grady in a stroller the other day and we went out for a bit, but it was still too chilly for him and we had to come home. It was okay though. At least I got out for a while. Perhaps tomorrow is a gym day before we head out for groceries. I do a bit of yoga in the house at night before bed and that's helpful. Just moving my body around and working on breathing and strength can be so calming. I'd also like to take up jogging a bit this summer. Give it a try, see if I can go somewhere with it. I don't know why, but the urge to jog has been on my mind a lot lately.
So...for now, I'm going to go work on my laundry (we cleaned out under the stairs the other day and found tons of stuff that had gone missing...what a job that was) and tidy up around the house. I still have to figure out dinner. I might have to get creative tonight.
Before that, I have one more blog post to write. This next one will be a bit more humourous I hope. LOL
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