I Live in Constant Fear of Losing My Mind

I’m going to confess something to you today. I live in constant fear of losing my mind. No, I don’t question my sanity. Well, at least the vast majority of the time. I’m not concerned that I’ll snap and go postal one of these days. Oh, and I’m in no danger of losing touch with reality and trying to live a fantasy. I’m much too down to earth for that.

No, there is a constant fear hiding in the back of my mind that fibromyalgia is going to take over completely and my memory will be shot. Even now, my short-term memory is holding on by a thread. I forget to lock doors at night. I forget whether or not I already took my pills. I forget appointments. I forget phone numbers. I forget that I already told people the latest news. I forget recipes that I’ve known by heart for years. I forget usernames and passwords. I forget where I put things. I even forget momentarily where I am.

The list goes on and on in life with fibro fog. Sometimes, my memory lapses only last seconds. Sometimes memories come flooding back with a certain thought, sound, or action. Sometimes, though, the info that I’m searching for is lost forever. It can be an overwhelming and scary life to lead whenever your second biggest personal fear is losing your mind!

My latest mishap that occurred because of a memory lapse happened this morning. My fiance woke me up at 4:30 to tell me that all our cats were outside because they escaped through an opened window. Of course, as soon as he mentioned that open window, I remembered immediately that I was to blame. I had only planned on keeping the two screenless windows in the house open for a short time while I was in the room. It was hot in the house and I was overheated and miserable. A couple cracked windows was enough to keep me from melting into a puddle a goo.

I honestly had every intention of closing those windows. I love my furbabies, and I worry all the time about them getting out and eventually getting hurt. Outside is a scary place for a frightened cat that can’t find a way back in the house or that has no clue how to survive. Dangers lurk everywhere. I would never intentionally put my kitties at risk.

That is why my stomach is sick still with the thought that I put them in danger. No, it wasn’t intentional, but accidents do happen and then I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself. I’m thanking God still that all my cats are back in the house safe and dry. Yet, I’m also kicking myself and worrying that something like this will happen again.

We are planning to get new screens for these two windows as soon as possible, but what are the chances that I do something else that inadvertently causes harm? The chances are pretty good with my memory’s track record. And that thought scares me!

I use Google calendar to send me reminders to my cell concerning every important thing I need to remember. That way if I forget I will still get it all finished. Well, it looks like I’ll be adding a lot more daily reminders, including checking all windows and doors. It is time consuming, but almost anything is worth it to win this war for my mind!

If Blogs Were Houseplants...

If blogs were houseplants, I would be in serious trouble!  They would surely be dead by now.  I have been neglecting my blogs lately.  They are shriveling and drying up.  They are crying out desperately for some love and attention.  And I really don’t blame them…

When I started all three of my blogs I didn’t really have a plan.  It was more of an impulse.  I had some ideas.  I live to write.  I wanted some place where I could write whatever inspired me.  And it wouldn’t hurt for me to have some extra writing practice either.  So, I jumped in headfirst, eager to test the waters.

At first, my enthusiasm carried me along.  Sometimes I would go a few days without posting, but I eagerly came running back  I never run out of ideas to write about, so I was convinced that at least three posts per blog per week would be a breeze.

Boy, was I wrong!  I never planned on my son having difficulties in school and needing much more of my attention for the 2012-2013 school year.  I had underestimated how greatly my fibromyalgia affects my concentration and my ability to sit at a desk.  I hadn’t planned on my mom getting married or the week-long vacation that followed.  Oh, and I never realized how insane it can be to plan your own wedding in only three months.

I know, excuses, excuses.  Blogs are a commitment and when we start them we make a promise our readers to keep them up and running.  Still, knowing now where I went wrong from the beginning, I can now make a new beginning and start over fresh.  From now on, I’m going to put regular posts into my schedule, and even if it is only once a week per blog until I get my true blogging legs, at least I can revel in the consistency.

Thank you for understanding and supporting my journey into blogging.  I hope you continue to check back in the coming weeks to see what new posts I have in store.  You never know what new treasures you might find amongst all this blogging dust!

Which Heals Faster: My Body or My Pride?

Accidents happen.  There’s no way to prevent all of them.  We are imperfect beings living in a chaotic universe.  So, running into the occasional mishap is simply part of life.  Still, sometimes something happens which leaves us shaking our head and red faced from the shocking stupidity that can erupt when imperfect people collide head on with an imperfect world.

Tonight I had one of those moments.  After a long day of cleaning and organizing my house, I was ready to relax and then go to bed early.  With the new school year fast approaching, I’ve been aiming to slowly shift my schedule--gradually going to bed earlier so I can be ready for much earlier mornings.  To help me unwind, I hopped in the hot tub and soaked for a while.  By the time 10:00 pm rolled around, I was de-stressed and more than ready to sleep.

However, before I drifted off to dreamland, I wanted to be nice and pack my fiance a lunch to take to work in the morning.  He works so incredibly hard for our family, so he deserves a healthy lunch waiting for him when he wakes up. Well, I busily went to work in the kitchen and gathered everything I needed to pack his lunch.

Within seconds, I had everything I needed to pack my fiance’s lunch...except a container to pack his sandwich. We store these containers on the top shelf of the corner cabinet--well out of this fun-sized individual’s reach. Too much in a hurry to get done and get to bed, I skipped leaving the room to get the step stool. Instead, I slid over one of the chairs from the kitchen table and climbed up to grab a container.

As soon as the container was in hand, the chair started to lurch.  Before I could even scream, one the legs of the chair bent and I went flying head over heels!  My hip slammed into the metal part of the chair, my entire weight surging behind it.  I continued to roll forward, and before I knew it, I flipped head first over my shoulder and landed on my knee and elbow.

Believe you me, that fall knocked the wind out of me and I literally felt like I was dying!  I hit a pressure point in my hip as I crashed into the back of the chair.  That alone would have done me in.  But oh, no.  I HAD to collide with the floor at such a velocity that it forced every last bit of air out of my lungs.

I stayed there laying in a tangled heap on the kitchen floor for what seemed like an eternity.  Saucer-sized cat eyes stared back at me in utter disbelief and fear.  Then one of my cats decided to be brave and walked across my back for a closer look.  She then plopped down and lied next to me with her little furry behind stuffed in my face.

All I could think was this is it.  This is the end, and the last thing I’ll see in this life is fuzzy feline butt! Miraculously, though, I gasped and my breath rushed back into my chest.  Of course, this little ‘near-death experience’ probably only lasted mere seconds.  But to me, it felt like I really HAD been knocking on deaths door.  I was so relieved to be alive...and able to move the hairy cat rear away from my face!

However, as I tried to stand up, the reality of my accident started to sink in.  I could feel the swelling in my hip, elbow, and knee immediately.  As I struggled against the pain to right myself, I felt blood dripping down my leg. And finally, as my children came rushing into the room to see what all the ruckus was about, the true pain of my mishap sank in--my pride was definitely more than a little bruised!

As my children asked me a zillion questions (including why my pajama shorts had partially fallen down), I began to wonder to myself which hurts worse: my body or my ego?  Suffice it to say, I am still awake 5 hours later nursing my very sore hip, my banged up knee and elbow, and my wounded dignity.

No, this whole incident wasn’t my fault.  Apparently, the chair had a faulty weld on one of the legs.  It was a hidden accident just waiting to happen and I was the “lucky” one to be at the wrong place at the wrong time.  Still, I can’t help but feel embarrassed and a bit like a clutz.  The fact is I’m a magnet for freak accidents, and this isn’t the first time I’ve found myself the hapless and blushing victim of circumstance.  I know it won’t be the last either.

Over the years, I’ve realized that my body is pretty adept at bouncing back from accidents, and I think that within a matter of days, I should be back to my old self.  But what about my pride?  Well, this one was a doozy and only time will tell if I can live down this mishap!