Loss and Grief

My friend died. It still feels surreal. In February, before I moved out of Oregon, I had my hair done by her and she seemed fine. I say seemed because of course the cancer was already there, eating away at her health. No one knew. But in eight months she went from fine to dead. That's how fast things can change. And nothing could be done.

I think the feeling of powerlessness is a big part of the difficulty. It's like when our daughter Jeanna died. There was no indication, no predictor of what was happening. It just happened, and in all the looking back, trying to see where we could have done something different, we couldn't realistically find anything. You can always find something that you can see in hindsight, but if we all had that ability how many things would be different.

That's the whole point, so much of life is out of our control, but we don't truly feel it until something like a loss like this occurs. We go along feeling like we have power, like we have some say in what's going to happen to us, but time happens, unforeseen occurrences materialize.

And when these things befall us, we're paralyzed. Sometimes with fear, but usually with something more. We're paralyzed by our own inadequacies, and suddenly all our confidence evaporates. All our decisions are questioned, all our options are reanalyzed. Our failures are magnified, our strengths shrink.

If you believe in God, as I do, you may turn to Him for reassurance. Because if you're out there feeling lost, the first thing you want is a compass to help point you in the right direction. You want to feel like you're not alone, that someone does have control. And that the time and unforeseen occurrences can be coped with and survived.

I don't think God controlled Glenda's or Jeanna's death. I think both of them were due to our human frailties and imperfections. But I do think God has the power to help us cope with the loss without spinning out of control. And I believe with my whole heart that both of them, along with many other millions of dead, have a promise of a better future where we won't suffer these shocking losses and the pain that follows.

So speaking of the pain that follows, I lost two days because of my grief. Literally. Today is Friday, and I thought it was Wednesday. I've taken this loss very hard. And part of it is what I wrote above, and part of it is my personal ability to deal with and process grief because of my illness. I don't know how to explain it, except how Erik explained it to me last night.

What he said, which made perfect sense from him and hopefully I'll pass it on clearly, is that it's like having a weak immune system. You may not be sick all the time, but you're more likely to catch anything that comes along, and get it worse than other people, because your immune system is already compromised. My brain is already compromised because I don't have enough of something and too much of something else in my receptors (we'll pause here so you can get all the brain jokes out). So I'm more sensitive to stressors that already are causing anxiety to the normal population.

Anyway, it sounded good when he was explaining it. And the one thing he said that really hit home to me is to start accepting myself today as normal. The New Normal. Today I'm not the high-powered executive type I used to be, I'm not the A++ student I was, I'm not a lot of things I used to be. And I can fight against it and be mentally shaking the bars that lock me into my illness, or I can accept that a major loss may cause me to lose two days; then I move on with some sense of control and normalcy. Either way, I'm powerless against my illness, it's going to affect me regardless of how I respond to it.

I have the sweetest daughters and cutest little boys in the world. I have a wonderful husband who takes such good care of me, to the point of choosing to marry me knowing that I have bipolar disorder and this is me forever. I have good friends who accept me for who I am, even when I don't accept myself. I have family that loves me after everything I put them through before I knew I had bipolar disorder and just seemed crazy and unpredictable.

Control is an illusion. Power is a concept that we hold as long as we are allowed to hold it, but it can be taken away at any time. Time is not our friend, it waits for no one, it bends for nothing. Our faith can give us hope and comfort, but at this time we live in enemy territory and every step could be the one that sets off a landmine. So kiss your children, hug your loved ones, make sure everyone around you knows how important they are to you. Because you don't know where you'll be eight months from now.

Scrapbook Expo

I had such a great time at the Scrapbook Expo. It turned out so much better than last year, I definitely think I'll do it again. For one thing, I drove myself, which sounds like a dumb thing but gave me a sense of independence from the beginning, like "I can do this." I need to have that feeling more often, which having a car gives me, but my overprotective husband is going to have to realize that I need it as well.

Anyway, I arrived early enough that I got close parking, didn't have to stand in a long will-call line, and was ready for the expo to open about 30 minutes before it actually opened. I think a first for the usually running late me. It was nice because it wasn't overly crowded when I first got it, so I had a chance to walk through all the vendors' displays without feeling pressured or pushed. I knew from last year who I definitely wanted to see, so I went to those vendors first. Then I just walked around looking at what everyone was displaying and what was new. It was a nice, non-pressured way to start the day. Since so much of my stuff is in storage still, I have no idea what I need or have, so I didn't feel the need to buy a ton of stuff. I mainly wanted to see the new stuff, and to take the classes I had signed up for.

So my first class was at 10:30 and it was six two-page layouts. I didn't take pictures because we didn't finish them, but they were mainly to give us ideas of different ways to layout our 4x6 pictures, which is what the majority of us use most of the time. Honestly, I love the beautiful layouts that display a single photo, but a rarely do them. I loved getting ideas on how to use different patterned papers mixed together and still have a cohesive, pretty layout (that is, not overwhelmed by the patterns).

My next class was a Prima class, which is known for their flowers but also makes beautiful paper and chipboard cutouts. That's the class I was excited about and I wasn't let down. I love using flowers in my layouts, and we learned how to use flowers. These pictures are the layouts we did. 

 These are so three-dimensional that you almost couldn't put them in a book, you'd want to put them in a display case. But they are so beautiful that you'd want them on display. It's hard to see where the pictures would be, but I'll try to explain.

 Well, this one is the type of layout I normally don't do: the big layout for one picture. But I guess if you have one picture you really want to showcase it would make sense. I just normally don't think that way. You can see where the picture would go, though, and it would be a little covered by the leaves and flower at the top of you chose to do it that way. Otherwise you'd just use a 4x6 and let the page be as much of the display as the picture itself.

This one is made for three pictures, one at the top and two at the bottom. Or two 4x6s if that's what you want to do, I don't think three of that size would fit. Again, the layout is so beautiful and I just love it, the pictures just don't do justice to how pretty the papers and flowers really are.

The last class was "From Overwhelmed to Organized," and I got some fantastic tips in that class that I am really going to put into practice. Especially living in a small area that leaves little space for my scrapbooking items, I need to have everything well organized, and the way she explained it was so simple and logical that I think with a little effort I can have all my stuff in one place and still not feel cluttered and overwhelmed. The biggest challenge will be finding the space to actually get my stuff out and organize it.

Overall it was a great day, and I'm really glad I didn't let my fears intimidate me so I didn't go.

Oh, and I think I found a crop retreat I want to go to, so if anyone is interested let me know, it would be a blast to have someone I know go, too.

Tomorrow is the Scrapbook Expo!

So tomorrow is the local Scrapbook Expo in Sacramento. I'm going for the second time; last year was my first time attending. Last year was also the year I'd rather not remember. I was doing okay by the time of the Expo last year, but it was really hard being in crowds of people, and taking the classes was difficult because I had a hard time staying focused.

So this year will be different. I'm different. I'm doing so much better. I'm on different meds. I tolerate crowds much better than I did. I have a much easier time staying focused. So why am I so scared and nervous? I think I'm afraid of a repeat of last year's angst-filled day.

It makes sense, we all have memories of certain events, and emotions tied to those events. And reliving the events makes us relive the emotions. But I want this to be different. I want it to be more like my second wedding.

My first wedding was a stressful day. In the back of my mind all day I knew something was off, something wasn't right. Yeah, the whole thing was wrong. It's easy to see in hindsight but the day of, I just thought it was pre-wedding jitters. Turns out it was my inner warning system going off full-tilt. I didn't know enough then to recognize it, but I learned pretty quick to listen to it when it spoke to me.

So when it came to my second wedding I was terrified. I did have pre-wedding jitters. More like pre-wedding panic. Up until the moment I saw my husband standing at the alter waiting for me. Then a flood of calm came over me, and I knew all was right with my world. And twelve years later, my world is still all right.

Okay, so maybe that's a stretch for the scrapbook thing. I mean, there's no long-term commitment here. But you get the idea. I want to go and relax and have fun and have it be enjoyable. I don't want to be stressed out and unable to focus on the three classes I paid good money to attend. I want to come home and be ready to go get my scrap stuff from Klamath Falls and start working again.

I know it's been a while

It's like a line from a song I like, "If I get it all down on paper, it's no longer inside of me, threatening the life it belongs to." (Anna Nalick "Breathe (2 a.m.)"). I keep wanting to write and I keep putting it off like it will go away if I ignore the feeling. But I can't ignore it anymore, so here goes.

It's been a crazy summer. And I do mean crazy. Meds changing crazy. Almost hospital time crazy. But I managed to keep the balance tipped in my favor and I came out on top--I think. At least I didn't go to the hospital and that's a win for me. Yay me.

Sometimes for me the world seems so big and frightening that going to the hospital seems like a safe place. I'm enclosed, I'm closed off, I have no choices to make, all the decisions are made for me. A normal person--a sane person--would view that as horrible, which is how I know that I'm going out of whack. Because really, the hospital sucks. The food is awful. The beds are hard. The rooms are cold. The chairs are hard. And I really hate being there, except when I need to be there.

But like I said, I didn't get to that point this summer, although I came close. I knew I wasn't going back there if I could help it, and I didn't. We moved instead. Yeah, part of what had me crazy was living in a fifth-wheel with four other people, three of them under 10. And I can honestly say that anyone would feel crazy after a few months of that. So we put of getting a house, since that was going to take longer than we anticipated, and we got an apartment. (If I'm repeating here, I'm sorry, I didn't go back and read my last blog post.) We love it, we're happy, we fit comfortably for the most part, and we have everything taken care of--no maintenance for us. Julianne loves her school, so we know where we will be looking for a house when we are ready to move so overall it's been a great decision.

And I got a car finally. A 1997 Buick LeSabre. Big ole beast of a car that holds us all and has a trunk for additional passengers if need be. We paid $500 for it, and it was truly a steal. We are going to put in a new stereo and fix a few things that are minor and one major thing: the air conditioner. Probably when we're done we'll have put $1000 into it, still well below blue-book. And honestly, with no car payment, I'm very content to drive it for as long as it will last. There are so many things we need to save up to get and not having a car payment makes it that much easier.

So my brain is functioning relatively well, my three younger kids are doing well, our living conditions are good, there's not much for me to complain about. That's all the good in my life.

Sadly, I cannot say the same for a good friend of mine. Glenda has done my hair practically the whole time I lived in Klamath Falls, and I just adore her. We became close during a hard time in her life, an when I lost my baby we became closer. So when I found out she had stage 4 cancer I was shocked, to say the least. She was always healthy and took good care of herself, so she is the last person you'd think of getting sick. Then I got word that they downgraded it to stage 3, that she was responding well to treatment, and they gave her two years. I was relieved because I knew I'd be able to see her again, and after hearing stage 4 and thinking weeks, there were a lot of things I wanted to tell her.

Then came the news that she was bad, really bad, that she was taken to the hospital and they didn't expect her to come home. The emotional roller coaster was almost too much to handle. I am heartbroken for her husband and her mother. Her dad died a few years back, so this loss is an even greater blow for them. I am griefstricken for her son, who is barely in his 30s and shouldn't lose his mother this young.

I'm also grieving for the loss of a friend who never heard how much she meant to me. I wanted to thank her for being there for me when my baby died, for being willing to listen to me talk about her after everyone else had forgotten. I wanted to tell her how much it meant to me that she went through all my pregnancies with me, with the mood swings and the discomforts, and didn't once make me feel like I was anything but normal. I wanted her to know that she was the first person in town that I told I had bi-polar disorder, and because of her acceptance and support I was able to open up more with others. I wanted to say that she always made me feel beautiful on the inside as well as the outside, and that I love her for all those things.

One day I'll get to say these things to her, but today they are stuck in my throat and in my heart. Today the tears sit behind my eyes because I still can't believe that when I get back to Klamath Falls I won't be able to stop in at the salon and see her at her station working on someone. Today I face the reality that cancer kills people, you can't always beat it, and pinning on a ribbon or running in a race or writing your bra color on your Facebook wall doesn't change that. Today I'm reminded again that there is no guarantee of tomorrow, so do your best with your today.