Nightmares

Nightmares are nothing new to me, in fact one might say we are old friends. Or...rather...nightmares are a constant stalker that never really leave, sometimes they just hide in the bushes better.

I am more likely to have more nightmares, and have them be more vivid, when I am stressed out. This was common when I was working at the Probation Dept., making it another straw on the poor camel's back that eventually led to my downfall. Lately, due to the stress of ill and dying family, it's not surprising that the nightmares are back.

The difference this time is that I am reliving past horrors. Over and over and over. Like a broken record replaying every excruciating detail. My brain has also added a soundtrack, playing songs to accentuate the pain I am feeling.

The nightmares have gotten so bad that I have been hyperventilating in my sleep. At some point I think I have even affected the Bar Manager's sleep, which makes me feel terrible. I wake up in a cold sweat, unable to breath, clutching him, or the cat, or a pillow, for dear life. The daylight doesn't help, because during the day I feel like I am barely keeping it together. Everything makes me want to cry, and scream and lay it all out there. Every wound, every horror, let the world know why I have these nightmares and this anxiety in the first place.

Then I remember that I am not talking about it. Ever. I want to, but I don't want to lay this on anyone else. I am afraid that it will hurt them by me getting it out of my system, in addition to the myriad of other worries I have.
"Why don't you talk about it in therapy?" You ask? I have. Exhaustively. It tires me out to talk about it, and not feel like I get anywhere with it. Therapy doesn't make it go away, or make it better. It just gave me tools to cope with it, which helps a lot. Before, when I would get consumed by this, it was debilitating. I would scream, be filled with rage, fear, push everyone away. I would like to think I am handling it a little better this time around....

I just with the nightmares would go away. Or at least go back to being monsters and beasts, and not being so real. Please? Is frolicking with kittens too much to ask brain?

Crashing

Days like today remind me that I have a crazy.

I have been cruising along, doing pretty well outside. Going to a friends house to work out, going to dinner on a whim with a friend, and going out with the Bar Manager a lot has sort of helped me forget that I am agoraphobic in the first place. Well, ok, to be fair, I never forget, and there is always the hyper-vigilance and some panic involved. And all the OCD crap...BUT we are getting off topic.

Water World. Swimming, rides, and death all rolled into one.

The one thing I always forget, and feel silly about forgetting every time, is that after a while I will crash. The first analogy that comes to mind is going to an amusement park or something similar. You go to the amusement park, ride rides, walk all over the place, and it is all very exciting! New smells! New sites! Different noms! So much to see and do! Hooray! When you get home that night you are EXHAUSTED. You have never been so tired in your life! You are asleep before you even take your shoes off. Maybe that doesn't happen to you? Oh, well, ah...remember when you used to go swimming all day? Or, hiking? Fine.

That is sort of what this feels like. Like I have been burning adrenaline for too long, and now my body is mad at me. I am totally wiped out. I can barely get my eyes to focus, my brain is a complete cotton fuzz, and every movement - especially strenuous ones like blinking - make me feel like I might die.

Then there is the headache. I have been doing pretty good about not having/getting migraines in the last few months (for a while, a long while, there was not a moment when I didn't have a headache), but when I get like this, my brain sort of explodes. My left eye feels like it doesn't fit in my head, and that I should pop it out. My brain feels like it is swelling, and that my skull might crack. Or I should crack it and let some steam out. Not to fear, I am not actually going to pop my eye from it's socket (I would misplace it), and I shan't crack my skull (it's not as much fun as it sounds). I hate this headache. There is nothing anything can be done for it, either. Pills make it angry, so I just sort of ride this one out. Wheeeeeeee

I bet everyone thinks I am lame. Back to bed then...

Jerks

I also sort of crash emotionally. I would over think things, but I am too tired to, so instead I just get kind of sad. "Yup, I probably made a fool of myself dancing in the bar the other night, and now everyone hates me. *sigh* I guess I will go die in my bed" - spoken in the tone of Eeyore. I have the over-thinking and panic to look forward to, when I am not so exhausted. I try to keep myself from letting this happen, the panic and over thinking, but when I run myself raged like this it sort of sneaks up on me. Like, "oh! Now's our chance! She is vulnerable! Lets give her a lot of nightmares about all the crap she did this week, so she can worry about it when she wakes up!" - squeal the dancing demons in my head. Jerks.

There are remedies to this, for sure. Trying to recognize that this is happening is a big part of it, instead of succumbing to the sad. Also, as ironic as it feels, going out helps. Sometimes it is a distraction and the crazy is still lurking behind my eyes, but other times it snaps me out of whatever agoraphobic funk I am trying to throw myself into. The flip side to that is sometimes I go out too much, and the funk is thrown off, then it hits me like a ton of bricks later. Like today. When I am so exhausted that I can't think straight, let alone function in the real world.




So...there's that. I would write more, give you clever analogies and what not. Instead I am going to go pour myself back into my bed, and daydream of someone bringing me noms and cuddles and horror movies. (Noms, cuddles and horror movies make everything better. Everything. It's a scientific fact. If the Noms are Chinese food, and the movie has zombies in it, then things like Cancer can be cured. Ok, maybe not, but close.)

I leave you with a cat in a bowler hat

Gushing

Hi there.

I would like to tell you all about my Valentine's Day this year, so...if you are not in the mood to read a gushy sappy post...you have been warned. However there is bacon involved, so maybe you should stick around after all.

Now that we have that out of the way, I had THE BEST VALENTINE'S DAY!!

The Bar Manager and I had previously discussed a few different options, like going to a basketball game and seeing the new Die Hard movie. Those were going to be fine, I super excited to get to spend the day with him and I didn't really care what we did. We finally made plans to have dinner at his bar (which for the sake of the story, we shall call the Winchester, and is fancier than it sounds), see a movie, and come back to his bar for trivia.

I have been debating on what to get the Bar Manager for literally months. MONTHS. With Christmas, then his birthday, and then Valentines Day back to back, basically, I have been stressing and feeling woefully inadequate in the gifting arena for ages. AGES! There are so many things I want to give to him, but being as how I have $0, it is hard to get him most of what I want to. I would list there here, but there is a remote possibility that SOME DAY I will be able to afford them, and an even more remote possibility that he reads this. So, I won't spoil the hypothetical surprises here. Just know that the ideas for gifts I have are epic.

Anyhoo...I ended up getting him two pounds of thick sliced bacon, I made him chocolate chip Reese's Pieces cookies, and I made him a playlist of songs that not only expressed how I felt about him, but were hopefully songs he liked. The playlist was the "big gift" so to speak, and it was the one I was the most stressed out about. I almost ALMOST didn't give it to him. Men are a skittish creature, and scare easily, and I didn't want my heartfelt playlist to scare him away.

This is the outfit I WISH I had

Finally V-Day came! I was terrified! I wanted to look amazing, but not too fancy as we were going to the Winchester. I asked him what he was wearing, assuming it was going to be jeans and a shirt...nope. He was going with a tie. A TIE?! SHIT! So...this changed me from wearing a typical black sweater and nice jeans. Now I wanted to look nice, but not over do it, or under do it. Or wrong do it. So, like a typical OCD crazy girl, I worried about my outfit for hours. I think I tried on every nice thing I have, and have since decided I don't actually have that nice of things...I settled on a nice brown skirt I haven't worn in ages, a forest green tank top, knee high brown boots, and a sweatshirt. I fluffed my hair, as I spent too much time freaking out about the outfit and didn't have time to curl it, and STILL don't own a straightener... Did my make-up. Then re-did my make-up. THEN I changed my shoes four times. Finally I settled on shoes, outfit and make-up.


SIDE NOTE: The last time I had a big date (previous to the Bar Manager), it was a disaster. I had a brand new to me vintage 40's dress, incredible shoes, had spent six hours on my hair, had perfect make-up, and the only thing my date said was I was a bit too busty for the dress. Not a single compliment, and then later he complained about every aspect of me and the date. Not something an Agoraphobe easily forgets. So, this is one of the silly reasons for my panic and paranoia.

When the Bar Manager arrived, I actually felt a little weak. He looked amazing! His green shirt and tie really complimented his eyes. *swoon* He looked so good, I wanted to throw myself on my bed and pout, because I paled in comparison to his handsomeness and I hated my outfit. I started to get nervous all over again. He kept looking at me sweetly...and I had to ask how I looked. He seemed in shock that I would ask a stupid question, and said I looked fine. The WAY he said it was what counted, like "of course you look amazing, why would you ask?" NOW, granted, I might be reading way too much into everything, like usual, but that is how I interpreted that whole interaction.

How I felt on the inside. *sigh*

At this point I felt a little...shitty I guess. I rarely have gotten flowers, and I LOVE flowers. LOVE THEM. I am not a chocolate girl really, but something about a flower really goes a long way in my heart. They never happened in my last relationship unless I literally begged for them, which at that point I could have just gotten myself flowers, which defeats it a bit. So, when the Bar Manager arrived without flowers, I am not going to lie, I was a little bummed. "Not to worry" I told myself, I was still going on a great date with a great guy. Flowers are silly. *sigh*

While in the car, I asked if he had made reservations. The Winchester was having a special occasion dinner, and it seemed like the type of place and type of time to make reservations. He scoffed, why would he make reservations? He's one of the managers! PFFT. Ok, ok, but did they at least know we were coming? Just in case? Places having fancy dinners like to know who all is coming, right? He scoffed again.

We get there, and he was really sweet about walking with me. This is such a little thing, but he was concerned I would slip in the ice, and so he held my hand and walked slowly, or avoided it altogether when he could. It really is the little things that make a girls heart melt. Well, mine anyway. Genuine concern for my well being. *swoon*

Stick with me kids, this is where things start to get really good!

We walked into the Winchester, and at the end of the bar was the largest bouquet of flowers I had ever seen. My first thought was, "Awww, how sweet! Someone got one of the other bartenders or servers some really nice flowers!" We got closer, and the Bar Manger sat me down right in front of them! However, I am a little slow, so it took another couple seconds before I understood that they were for me! ME! *Melts* He and the lovely Lady Bar Manager (yes, they are co-managers) unwrapped them for me, and I got to stick my face in the loveliest flowers I have ever received. Ever. My Bar Manager got all cute, saying "Yup, turns out they DID know we were coming," and then all the other servers and women in the bar started to gush about how he had set this all up. He had been planning it "FOR WEEKS! Literally weeks," stated the Lady Bar Manager, while others were telling me about how sweet he was that he came in and got the place setting ready and the flowers. Apparently he hand picked the flowers! Just for me! There was such a lovely variety to the flowers, and he said that was on purpose. He figured if he got a lot of them, he was bound to get one of them right (as far as which ones were my favorite). This is one of the sweetest things ever. Ever. *Faints*

Literally breath-taking!

At this point, I decided I should share the playlist that I made. After a little technical difficulty I was able to "beam" my playlist to him, which was technologically AWESOME by the way!

Our dinner was DELICIOUS! We were treated to a three course meal, with a marvelously matched bottle of wine. First he and I had salmon cakes and stuffed artichokes. For the main course he and I had pan searched chicken, and bistro tenderloin. *drools* For dessert we shared a chocolate mousse berry napoleon. Fantastic delectable delights!

After dinner the original plan was to go see the new Die Hard movie. I was whatever whatever about it, but I was into seeing it. This is how I know the Bar Manager is a keeper; "I know we were thinking of Die Hard, but that isn't very romantic. Would you rather go see a zombie movie?" Sir, I think I love you.

SO, instead of seeing Die Hard, he took me to see Warm Bodies. Which was perfect! It was a really cute movie, a RomZomCom, or whatever the cool kids call it. Zombies. Romance. Shenanigans. Perfect! This is another movie I think I need to own. AND, another little thing, he held my hand the whole time.  *sigh*

Strawberry Beer is better than it sounds

Between the Winchester and the zombie movie and and I stopped at a place across the street to try a strawberry beer, which was quite delicious.
We then went back to the Winchester for Trivia and cocktails. We took over for another team that was leaving, and ended up coming in 2nd place overall. Not too shabby, especially since I was able to get us a couple of points with some nerd answers *brushes shoulder off.*

I think at this point this is when he started taking pictures of us. That was really cute! He said something like, "I think it's about time we got a picture of us" or something along those lines. We took silly pictures, cute pictures, kissy face pictures...it was really sweet. Then, after posting them to Facebook for the WHOLE WORLD to see *swoon* I proceeded to make one of them my profile picture. A very public declaration that the Bar Manager was my guy. He did the SAME THING! With the same picture! *melt*

Finely we were in my apartment again. I think at this point I couldn't take the anticipation anymore, and I sort of yelled at him to listen to his playlist. "Hey! You should listen to that. RIGHT NOW!" Patience and tact have never been virtues of mine, but he took it in stride, and started listening to it. He played it over the speakers of his phone. I tried to contain myself, not apologize for songs, or over explain why I had them in the order they were in, etc. Luckily this was one of the few times I could pretty much keep my mouth shut. I think he liked it? He sung along with a lot of the songs, and commented on others. SO, I think it was a success? He didn't hate it, and I am too scared to ask him what he thinks...so there's that.
He LOVED his cookies, though. He didn't know I had made Reese's Pieces choco-chip cookies, and those are one of his favorites. SCORE! He was very excited by them. He also really like the bacon, so that was a win. YAY!!! As a post Valentines Day treat, he and I had some of his bacon this morning. We made candied bacon together, which is the first time I have ever had that. It was VERY tasty. "Millionaire Bacon" was the recipe, and I WILL be making that again. It would blow your mind in a BLT. *drools*

All in all it was an amazing Valentines Day. The best one I have had in recent memory. He is so sweet! And romantic! In the perfectly awesome, steak and zombie loving kind of way! All the little things, making sure I didn't slip...holding my hand....taking pictures with me and posting them in a public forum...and the way he looked at me throughout the night, really made it special. Oh, and not to mention the INCREDIBLE flowers! I...may or may not carry them from room to room with me at home, so I can see and smell them wherever I am. In a sort of obsessive way. They are so lovely!!!










Alright, alright, I will stop gushing over the Bar Manager, and get back to writing about going outside or playing poker. I just wanted to shove my happiness in everyone's face for a moment. I .... he... ok, ok, I won't get into the sappy stuff. He is the Bee's Knees, and I will leave it at that. For now.

Boxer Bee's Knees!

Happy Valentine's Day!

Well THAT sucked

I almost threw a party at the end of January, just to say goodbye to one of the worst months in my life. Almost. Ok, not really.

My mother had been feeling ill for "a little over a month," but hadn't seen a Doctor. She said her symptoms kept changing, so she thought she had a cold, or a flu, or whatever, and didn't want to waste money on a Doctor. I can see her point, but when she started naming her symptoms, I started to get nervous, and pissy.
She had had a low grade fever for basically the entire month of December. In addition, she said it felt like her ribs might have been broken, because it was difficult for her to breath and her mid section was very sore. I found out later that her stomach had been distended/swollen and painful, also. Nothing tasted good, she was tired, everything hurt, stuff like that. After talking with her, I made her promise to go to a Doctor. This was the beginning of January.

She finally goes, and they send her from the Urgent Care to the ER. From the ER they admitted her to the hospital. She had sort of figured this was going to happen, which was another reason why she didn't want to go to the Dr. in the first place. At first she thought it was an issue with her gall bladder, like stones or something similar. She was almost right...she had gall bladder stones, but when they were doing the ultra-sound to look at her gall bladder, they started checking other things. When they asked her if she had ever had a history of scerosis, she knew things were a little more complicated. No, she did not have a history of scerosis...and why are you looking at her liver? What is up with her liver?

She was admitted to the hospital, given some pain meds and LOTS of fluids, and was under constant watch. Being admitted to the hospital is no small thing. Being kept there day after day, with no real news, is a pretty big deal, also. They don't keep healthy people in the hospital.

They ran tests. And tests. And more tests. Then they started getting into more complicated things, like biopsies.

Her Dr. didn't "officially" know what was going, but the theory was that is was cancer. In her liver. Probably in other places. He looked very grim when telling her and I his theory.
I hate theories. Especially when they are about my mother, who is lying in a hospital bed. Give me facts. FACTS! You have had her here an F'n week! And all you have are maybes? Grr.

She was going to start chemo therapy the following week. Based on a theory. Great.

Finally she was able to go home, after a week in the hospital, and even then the staff was hesitant to let her go home. I found out why when we met with her Dr a couple of days later. They had the results of her liver biopsy, and a few other tests....

The Dr. said that a picture is worth a thousand words, and that it would be easier to explain the situation while he was showing us pictures of my mother's liver. Sure, this can't be so bad, right? First mistake. That was the worst picture I have ever seen, and I had seen the pictures of the cancer in my Old Man's lungs. This was a thousand times worse for me, and for her probably. At first it didn't look too bad! There were a few spots, but they were on the surface! With each picture we went a layer deeper into her liver. Each picture was filled with spots. Spots. Bigger spots. Finally it looked like there were more spots than there was liver. I stopped looking, I got the point. But wait! It gets worse!
The Dr. started saying that this was a "Carcenoma of Unknown Origin," meaning that this was not liver cancer. The cancer has started somewhere else, and has spread to her liver. At this point I sort of stopped listening.

There are a couple of scenes in the show "Breaking Bad" in which Walt, the main character, is getting news about his cancer. The Dr's are talking, but their voices fade out and all Walt can here is a buzz noise. The lights get bright, and he can't focus. It was a lot like that. I knew words were happening, and that I needed to be the smart one and take notes, but all I could think was that I needed to get as far away from this as possible. Instead, I had to take notes. I had to listen. I had to ask questions.

Biting my cheek to keep from crying, I tried focusing on what the Dr. was saying. The cancer was throughout her liver, and it was not good. It had probably spread to a few lymph nodes in her back, which would explain the back pain she was having. The best course of action was to start chemotherapy right away, but not radiation. She was going to start on a variety of medication, and was going to do at least three sessions of chemo, one session every 21 days. However, he STILL didn't know all the answers. He didn't know if it had spread, and if so, to where. He didn't know where it came from. He didn't know if chemo would work. He didn't know if chemo was going to be helpful, or detrimental. I hate the unknown, especially in this scenario.

So, I started asking questions. A saying I have is "Never ask questions you don't want to know the answers to," I remind myself of this often when I am about to open my mouth. I was not able to filter myself in time, and asked if thought how long my mom might have. I have never seen a Dr. tear up before...until then. He asked my mom if it was ok to talk about this with me, then told me exactly what I didn't want to hear. Without treatment she had weeks, maybe. With treatment, if it was effective, and if if if blah blah blah maybe she had a little over a year.
This is where my brain sort of snapped.

I know I took notes, I saw them later. My handwriting, my little pen and paper, so I must have written them. Mostly it was what medications were going to happen, when she was going to go to her first infusion, etc. I honestly don't remember what else he said. I didn't really care.

Since then she has started chemo, and is also getting Herceptin (which is supposed to up her chances like 80%?), and has been doing pretty well. My mother has been saying things like "I feel I have learned all there is to learn in this life," and similar little bits. At first it was upsetting, but now I kind of like it. Go ahead! Tempt fate! Tell the universe you are done! Maybe the universe will let you live longer, out of spite. Sometimes I feel the universe works out of spite, I am probably wrong. 


In 2005 my grandmother, who helped raise me, passed away. In 2009 my biological father killed himself. Later that same year my Old Man, who helped raise me, was diagnosed with lung cancer. My aunt, my mother's sister, had already been battling and beating breast cancer at this point. My Old Man beat his cancer! My aunt beat her cancer! Then my Old Man passed away in January of 2011. My mother was diagnosed with breast cancer three days after my Old Man passed away. She beat it? Since then my aunt's cancer seems to have returned, and seems to have spread. My mother now has this Carcinoma of an Unknown Origin. The last few years have been very hard, and January has been especially wonderful.

Anyway, she says she is feeling better. She is able to breath a little better, her back doesn't hurt as bad, and she has started another semester of college! She is taking classes, working, AND doing treatment. My family doesn't seem to understand moderation, or taking it easy on yourself. My aunt worked full time through her treatment, my Old Man pretty much did - as well as traveled, so...
She is feeling better and she seems to be doing better. She gets tired really easily, but going to school and working could easily make anyone tired, in addition to the treatment. Besides, January is over! Now we can move on to better days! Because F you January.

Poker? I hardly know 'er!

I have a feeling I will be hearing that cheesy joke, a lot.

Why, you ask? WELL! It's because I have taken a serious interest in Texas Hold'em. Granted, my serious interest started because the Bar Manager likes it, and I wanted to be able to talk with him about it, and not look like a ninny...but it has turned into an interest all my own. I would say obsession, but I don't want anyone thinking I have a problem. Because I don't. I don't know why you would say that... *twitches a little*

As my interest grew I came to realize I know next to nothing about Hold'em. Luckily the Bar Manager was kind enough to lend me a couple of books, "Decide to Play Great Poker," and "Winners Guide to Texas Hold'em Poker," and offered to teach me a few things. Well, really, a LOT of things. He is an accomplished player, and has been doing this for over a year. He even has a blog! He updates about as much as I do...so...there's that...
SO, with my Jedi in place, I was ready to be the Poker Padawan!

I am more like the Jack of Hearts...

The Bar Manager brought over a felt table top poker thingy (yes, that's its official title), a couple of decks of cards, and some chips. I thought I would be cool just learning, not nervous at all. Right. Because THAT'S how I roll. So as the panic attack started to ramp up, I tried to remind myself that this was just a game. Literally. Just a game. Cards. Chips. Bar Manager. Nothing scary. So, I was able to funnel some of that insane panic into insane focus instead, and then tried to soak in everything he was saying. Of course I had to learn the basics first, like what the good hands were, how much the chips were worth, how the "button" moved, blinds, why you shouldn't show other people your hand to see if you have a good set of cards (OK, maybe that one I already knew). It was sort of intense!
I took notes. I focused. I was not too much of a ninny...I don't think...and I learned a lot.

He assigned some homework for me to read various chapters in the two books, and sent me to a site to practice online. Then, he took me to the CASINO! WHEE!!! He and I had been once before on a sort of reconnaissance mission (well, that's what I thought of it anyway), so I was a little bit OK being there this time. I was able to get a chair and sit right behind him at the table, and watch him play. That was really awesome of him to do, that did so much for my confidence later on... The safety of being close to someone I knew, and the absolute no pressure to perform at all. The only thing I was "supposed" to be doing was sitting, watching, and learning. That was huge! I was able to keep from panicking at all really, and just soak in all the information.

I watched how others played, how he played, how to bet, the flow of the table, the flop, the turn, the river, the button, the blinds...all the things...and it was awesome! Taking what I had seen at the table helped me to understand the information from the books a little better. After that night I tried to retain as much of that information as I could, but I was exhausted! With images of suits dancing in my head, I fell asleep and dreamed beautiful dreams of winning.

There was less booze, otherwise it was just like this

I need Season Five. I NEEDS IT MY PRECIOUS

Since then I have read the homework. A couple times. I should just read the whole books, but there have been a few...shall we say...distractions in my life that have not been helpful to focusing on poker. Some were minor, like becoming obsessed with "Breaking Bad" for a couple weeks, others were a little more intense, like my Mother's health. However, in recent weeks I have been able to get back into learning poker, and it has been wonderful. Being able to focus on something like this game has really helped me to remain calm, and to focus on something other than the happenings around me. I am not saying that poker is going to be my end all be all, but it is nice to have something that drives me a little, something fun to think about and daydream about, that might turn into something more than that...with practice, my wits, and a little bit of good luck!