Journey Beyond Survival

Family really affects my ability to function. The well being of my children is a factor, but also my extended family. I grew up knit so closely with my brothers and sisters that I think we felt like the largest living organism in the world. Not that we were the biggest family, but that we were connected together underneath just as importantly as we stood alone outside. I depend on family. They depend on me. We've been shaken the past year. It's been with me heavier since this weekend. My nephew died, a month and a half later my grandmother died. In May my own personal tour of Dante's Inferno began. Chickadee began losing words like they were diamonds in sand. Then skills, and finally she ended up in a rocking hell all her own for two months. In July came the diagnosis for Rett Syndrome came. We did more tests in 2009 than I ever thought possible. But, we weren't finished. Hubbend's mother had a double mastectomy because for the third time her breast ...

Since I feel the need to post this sometime, I'll do it today. This is the anniversary. A year ago tomorrow my nephew died. He was seven months old. He had an undiagnosed heart condition. It was terrifying for my family. He was so young. It was horrifying for me. Two months before his parents thought Chickadee had the same thing as their son. She didn't, but there was no way to know for sure at the time. A year ago this week is when my Chickadee's right hand stopped working the way she wanted it to. For good. I remember because when I flew out to my nephew's funeral it was the first time I got comments about it. Why was she touching her hair over and over? Did she have a pinched nerve? Did she have headaches? I didn't mind. Much. They seemed logical questions to me. Anniversaries of tragedies are difficult. Hubbend planned a wonderful evening. He made reservations weeks in advance for a romantic dinner at our favorite expensive restaurant on Valentine...

WEIGHT: 210.6 (-4.4 since last week!) BMI: 29.4 (NO LONGER OBESE, barely ) %BODY FAT: 34.01% (-9.14%!!!!) blurb: wahoooeeee!!!! Kathyj333 posted a comment yesterday that really got me thinking. She commented on how she really related to my profile description. The part where I say that two years of life had generally revealed the person I thought I left behind. It struck me again. I try to be real here on my bloggy. But, there are a few elephants in the room. Since thinking about her comment, I've thought about several facts about myself that I am still trying to leave behind. Hide from. I have lost 30 pounds or more three times in my life. Each time I kept it off for at least two years. It comes back when something life altering occurs. Something negatively life altering. FACT: I have a label I've run away from for ten years. Two years ago a doctor put it on my permanent record. Someone close was diagnosed with bipolar I when I was 18. Close enough biologically th...

Whose body is this? Who took away all my hard work? The last time I saw this body was in 2005, when I swore I would never see it again. Who is talking like that to my kids? I took parenting classes, read books, and listened to constructive criticism. I know how to be an assertive, authoritative, excellent parent. This can’t be me, I’ve worked so hard NOT to be this. The point is that it has happened. The medication they gave me in the psych hospital had me gain from 175 pounds to 195 in two weeks. TWO WEEKS! It took me a year to get off forty pounds from June 2005 to June 2006. I kept it off, including through a pregnancy, ending my pregnancy at 217 lbs. which was less than I had started losing weight at. Post-partum I did excellent until falling off the deep end psychologically seven months later. I entered the hospital at 175 and I was lactating. Contributing stressors, such as baby regressing into a permanent disability, a husband with a furloughed income and no real prospe...

Postpartum Psychosis after 7 months of intensive breastfeeding with Chickadee who had-unbeknownst to me-pervasive low tone and an unproductive suck. I talked with 5-10 people about something possibly being wrong with Chickadee, but no one believed me. Who wants to be right about that anyway? Bipolar NOS was my diagnosis upon leaving the psychiatric hospital on April 1, 2008. Yes, that's right. April Fool's Day. The allusion was painful. A close relative-as I've talked about-has bipolar I and has also experienced psychosis. My identity will always be guarded for their sake as well as the others in my family that confide their difficulties in me. Rett Syndrome became a part of our family on July 28th, 2009. Many, many, many tests and doctors preceded that. My daughter Chickadee had many horrifying things happen to her.